Friends, my mom, sister, and I want to thank all of you for making us feel like George Bailey the last 2 days! My friend Ruth, owns a wonderful store in Barrington (it's also online) and she was sponsoring a fall photo contest. My mom, myself, some friends, and some other people I don't know entered. If you know my mom, you know how much she loves her photography. She has a real talent, that I wish she would use more often. The contest ended up being one that was voted on by other people. Much to our delight, my mom was in first place on Sunday! I think she felt like a million bucks because she is not on social media so she doesn't have a huge reach.

One of my other friends who entered the contest, has a dad with 35K+ twitter followers. Naturally she asked him to tweet for her (I would've too, if my dad had twitter...and followers). So my sister and I turned to facebook and asked our friends, family, and my mom's friends to vote for her. You guys came through and she pulled ahead! Sadly for us, my friend's dad tweeted again. And you, my friends came through again! You re-posted, you shared, you voted, and some of you even brought me and my mom to tears with your sweet posts (Liza ;)). I read her your messages and shares and she couldn't believe it. Jenna's students, who obviously love her a lot voted for her. My mom pulled ahead again! But alas, my friend's dad tweeted again. We just couldn't compete with his reach. But I want you all to know that my mom asked me to thank everyone on her behalf. I love my mom so much, but one of her biggest faults is her insecurity. And over the last two days she saw how loved she is, and how loved her family is. She has zero social media presence, and yet, she gave more than 35,000 twitter followers a run for their money. For this, we are truly thankful. She may not have won, but she is the richest person around. And to quote Clarence, the angel from It's A Wonderful Life, "Remember, no man is a failure who has friends." So thank you for making my sister, me, and most of all my mom, feel loved!

Winds of Change

This fall has been all about change. If you've spent any amount of time with me ever, you know that I hate change. This is why I love Anne Shirley so much. In her words, "Why do people have to grow up, marry, and change...I don't want any of it to change. I wish I could hold on to these days forever. I have a feeling things will never be the same again, will they?" I am entering a new chapter, a chapter that I have told Bill many times, that I did not sign up for.

Back in February we found out that our school district was switching over to all day kindergarten. While many parents were super excited, I was not one of them. I thought I had one more year left with Brendan home part time. He is such a fun kid and great company. He has so many funny things to say, and will chat my ears off. All spring I lived in denial that fall was coming and he was going to be leaving me. My last baby was going to be gone all day. Much to my dismay, fall arrived and school started. I didn't sign up for babies leaving the nest. I had only planned for the part where they were home with me. Now they are at school all day, and I am wandering about, completely without purpose. I even ended up asking if I could come in additional day at work. Who does that?

One (fateful) day I was out walking and noticed a house for sale in our subdivision. It was the same model that my friend Leslie used to live in so I was very familiar with it. We only have three bedrooms, and I have imagined that as the boys become large teenagers, they may want to move out of bunk beds. To do that in their current room, would be very cozy. This house has four good sized bedrooms so I mentioned it to Bill. To my shock, he was interested in looking at it. We looked at it, and there wasn't anything wrong with it (I had been kind of hoping it would be a dump so that moving would no longer be an option for a while). We decided to hurry and get our house on the market, while deep down I was secretly hoping someone else would snatch up that house so we wouldn't be able to buy it. Shortly after looking at the house, Bill's parents decided it was time to downsize and they approached us about buying their house. It's much larger than ours and has 5 bedrooms. We talked about it and last Thursday we agreed that we would put our house on the market in the spring and hopefully buy theirs at the beginning of June (which is when they plan to move). While it's a wonderful house and we really need the space, I am incredibly sad to leave my home. We planted lilac bushes in the back yard as soon as we moved in. My parents bought me a peach tree in honor of Faith, while I was pregnant with Rori. I had my babies here. I redid my kitchen. I made my living room into my sanctuary. It's my HOME. I know that not everyone is weird like me, but I am sentimental and sappy and clearly I don't do well with change.

The day after we decided to buy their house and officially move, we had to say goodbye to one of our kitties that we had adopted the day after we got home from our honeymoon. He was the one affectionately known as "dirty cat" because he had never learned to clean himself (this is one of the benefits of cats--their being self-cleaning). It was so much harder than I had ever anticipated.

good lord he was young and they were so tiny

so that's my natural hair color

 I wasn't ready to say goodbye to him, it was all very much a devastating surprise. So by Saturday I was in a deep funk. That morning I said something along the lines of, "My babies are grown up and don't need me anymore, the cat that we got when we got home from our honeymoon died, so that means our marriage is over, and now you are ripping me from my home so you can go home, so I'm never getting out of bed because what's the point." something like that. I may have a flair for the dramatic. Fortunately Bill is used to my little bit of crazy and melodramatics, so he texted my sister and asked her family to come out to help pull me out of my funk. They did and it was helpful, but it doesn't change things. Isn't that ironic? It doesn't change the fact that things are changing. The last few weeks have been more change than I've had in a long time. I don't like it, but I am aware that I need to get on board the change train before I miss out on the future. So, I am going to keep opening the doors that God puts in front of us and pray that He keeps pushing me in the direction He wants me to go, lest I get left behind.

Today's Christian Woman

My dear friend Suzi came to visit from Croatia last summer (well they were here raising support for missions, but I will pretend it was to visit us). Suzi has always been very encouraging in my writing and she was absolutely shocked that I had never asked to write anything for publishing company (Christianity Today) that I have worked for for 13 years. She offered to write a letter to the editor asking them to let me write. It was an incredibly sweet, albeit mortifying, gesture. Word got to my friend Ashley, who knows our Croats. She was going to start working for Today's Christian Woman along with her editing job at Church Law &Tax. She told me that once she started at TCW she was going to ask me to write an article for them. I was over the moon! A month later, she quit her job to freelance (very successfully, I might add). So...crap. Since my new resolution this year was to be brave, I was going to have to put on my big girl underpants and just ask the editor myself.

After much whining and asking for encouragement from family and Ashley, I typed up an article idea and sent it to the editor along with some links to my blog. Then I curled up in the fetal position and rocked. And checked my email every five minutes. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, she works remotely so I couldn't walk past her office several times a day so that she wouldn't forget me. Being the super nice and professional person that she is, she responded pretty quickly that she was swamped but promised to get back to me. And she did! And she liked my article idea! I didn't tell many people, for fear that the article would get cut (the anxiety meds help with day to day stuff, but I still have my fear of rejection ;) ). But yesterday, my article went live, and 99% of the feedback has been very positive. I am prepared for some people to disagree with my choice, but I have developed a thicker skin in the last year--and not just from my thyroid weight, so I should be able to handle it. I am so thankful for all my friends and family that have been so supportive and encouraging and I can't tell you all how much your kind words have meant to me! Here's the link to my article if you haven't read it yet http://bit.ly/1S7ovpY

Where I've been

So, do you remember how at the beginning of the year I said I would blog once a week? Yeah, so that didn't happen. I have been MIA for a little while for a few reasons. The first reason is this guy.

He's kind of hilarious. Every day this kid makes me laugh--he gets his energy from making people laugh. I found out that our school district is switching to full-day kindergarten in the Fall, so this is the last of my one on one time with him. tear. sniff. time, you can stop now, mkay? So we've been hanging out and playing and making the most of our time together. 

The other reason is that I have been just plain exhausted. The thought of opening up my computer and typing words, coherent words, sounded like a nightmarish chore. So now comes my PSA (Public Service Announcement). You have to advocate for yourself (or your kids) because noone else will. Since last fall, I have been tired A LOT, and I also gained about 13 pounds that I could not get off for the life of me. If you know me, you know that I enjoy exercise and I have no problem doing a lot of it. I also don't eat horribly. So, getting the weight off shouldn't be too hard. Well, after working out religiously and counting calories, the weight wasn't budging. All it was doing was making me more tired. I regularly went to bed at 9:00--and often wanted to just go to bed when we put Rori and Liam to bed, but Bill usually talked me into watching one show in bed (which sometimes I didn't make it through). Bill assumed it was from the new early rising hour for Brendan's school, but I knew I just didn't feel right. I wanted to take a nap at 10:00 in the morning, and I can't tell you how many times I laid down at 2:00 and had to set the alarm on my phone in case I fell asleep and forgot to pick Rori and Liam up from school. Brendan would want to play, and I would literally have to force myself to do it with self-guilt-talk. I completely understand the term bone-tired. I was so tired, it almost hurt.

I pressed my normal doctor to check my thyroid levels since my dad has been hypothyroid since his mid thirties. The doctor said my levels were normal, but when I googled it (I love Dr. Google) it said many doctors don't use the new ranges, they still use the old ones. With the new ones, I clearly had hypothyroidism. This was about 9 months ago. When I complained about it, I felt like everyone just assumed I was getting old and lazy. But I knew that it wasn't normal to feel like this. Everything was an effort. I didn't want to play with Brendan, I certainly didn't want to clean the house. At work, I wanted to put my head on my desk. Often I forgot things, or thought I had completed something that I hadn't. It was really affecting my life. I brought it up to my doctor again about a month ago. He said "Are you sleeping ok?" and pretty much left it at that. He told me my thyroid had been ok when he checked it in the fall, but we could check it again in 6 months. He basically implied that I'm getting older and have 3 kids, of course I'm going to get fat and be tired. So I fired him (well, not to his face. I am much too polite, or too big of a wimp for that). 

A friend who has had thyroid cancer suggested seeing a more holistic type doctor that specializes in thyroids. I did a google search of thyroid doctors and found one only 10 minutes away; it's a general practitioner that focuses on thyroids and other hormones. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get in for months, but they were able to see me within a week. I brought along my old lab work and she immediately said I should be on thyroid hormones. She gave me a low dose to start on until she got my new blood work. My new blood work showed that my ranges were now in what even my previous doctor would have considered hypothyroid as well, but he didn't want to test me again for 6 more months. I would've been even more hypo by then. 

So we are now in the stages of balancing out my hormones and gradually increasing the thyroid medicine. Some days I feel good, and some days I still want to nap. Apparently it can take months to get everything regulated, but I am so happy that I found a doctor who listened to me, and is willing to help me get back to being me. Bill has noticed an improvement--some nights I can stay up until 11:00 now, but then others can be bad and I want to go to bed at 8:30. This has really taught me that a lot of doctors just go through an assembly line and don't want to get to the root of your problem. You have to fight for yourself, or nobody else will. So, all that being said, hopefully I will have energy back soon, and be able to pick up my blogging again! I have missed it!

The day Cary Elwes said "As You Wish" to me

My love of all things Princess Bride is well known and well documented. It's my all time favorite movie and book. So, when Bill and I found out that it was going to be playing in a theater in Chicago on Valentine's Day, it was a no brainer. My friend, Ruth, owns an amazing shop in Barrington (check it out here ), and there is a particular line of jewelry that I love, called Lenny & Eva. They have beads and sentiments that you can mix and match. She was getting some new sentiments and was going to get one that said "As You Wish" just in time for Valentine's Day. I told her I NEEDED it or I WOULD DIE. I am pretty sure that was my exact text. She put one aside for Bill. He gave it to me a day early so that I could wear it to Rori's school party.

After the party, my friend Liza and I decided to go to Ruth's store because my mom had given me a gift certificate and I wanted new beads for my new sentiment, and Liza had never been there and had some birthday money to spend. We chatted with the manager and she asked what our plans were for Valentine's Day. I told her we were going to see the Princess Bride and how much I loved it. She told me that she thought she had just read that Cary Elwes was coming for a book signing (He wrote a book about the making of The Princess Bride--of course I already owned it, but I would be happy to get a second, if it was signed). I made a mental note to look up when and where. By the time I got home, I had forgotten.

The next morning (Valentine's Day), Bill and I were enjoying a lazy Saturday waiting for our hot date--dinner at 4:00 (don't ask, that's what happens when you wait to get reservations) and then the movie at 7:30. I remembered that Cary Elwes was going to be in town and I wanted to see when, so I googled. I discovered he was going to be 40 minutes away at 2:00 THAT DAY!  I took a chance and called the bookstore and they said there would still be tickets at the door and the doors opened at 1:15. It was 11:45. Bill had to go get Rori from AWANA practice at noon, so while he did that, I hopped in the shower and planned to talk him into trying to go to the signing instead of downtown. THIS WOULD BE MY DREAM! By the time I got out of the shower and dressed, I had talked myself out of it. I figured there was no way we would get there in time, and if we got there, there wouldn't be tickets left. However, my dear husband came home with Rori and said, "Let's go!" This was not like us at all. We are way more practical and not this adventurous.

We dropped the kids at Bill's parents house, and he drove as fast as he could to Naperville. The closer we got, the more sure I was that we weren't going to be able to get tickets. Bill said he could see my half full glass slowly leaking the whole drive. He knows me well. We got there at about 1:30 and Bill dropped me at the door, I ran in and was able to get a book (which came with a ticket to see the Q&A and have it signed). I was beside myself! We got amazing seats for the Q&A portion. I was bouncing in my seat and I told Bill it was the best day ever (minus our wedding day and birth of my children). I could not believe we had pulled it off. Cary was charming, funny, and humble. After the Q&A, he went out to the lobby to begin the book signing, and they played the movie for us in the theater while we waited for our number to be called. I may have stalked him in the lobby a few times, while waiting for our turn. The movie played 2 full times before we were able to get in line. The poor man had been signing for over 3 hours.

I was trying not to be the creepy stalker that couldn't wait her turn, but I am certain I have no dignity left

Before the signing, they had announced that there would be no staged pictures--everyone would have to stand in front of the table and Cary would be behind, for efficiency. I saw him come out from behind the table a handful of times--usually to take pictures with people who had babies with them. I looked for a baby to borrow, but noone would oblige. There weren't any puppies around either. I had all kind of clever things to say to him when our turn would come. However, when it was our turn, I could hardly breathe, I was still shocked about the whole thing. I told him I was going to cry and he got up from behind the table and gave me a hug and whispered, "As you wish." in my ear. I DIED! I told him I'd loved him since I was a little girl. He thanked me, and said other things, but I can't remember because he said AS YOU WISH to me--WHISPERED IN MY EAR!

His leather jacket was so soft ;) 

Then Bill asked him if Pierre Desperaux was a good or bad guy (his ambiguous character from Psych). He asked Bill if he liked that character and Bill said he loved him. Cary asked Bill if he could record him saying that for the producers. Cary pulled out his phone and Bill happily obliged. Cary is a true class act, to treat everyone as though they were the first ones to come through the line, not the 400th.

I think the reason I was so overcome was because of the crazy way this all came together. I had no time to process that I was going to get to see "Westley" in real life. It was such a gift. It's a story that I will be telling my children about forever. Rori said I've already told her a billion times, so if any of you want to hear it again, I will happily share it.

IF:Gathering 2015

I had been looking forward to this Friday and Saturday for a year. It was the IF:Gathering. Last year was the first year of the IF:Gathering, and noone really knew what it was about; I was curious and watched it on my computer. There were several Godly women teaching and sharing their stories. Leslie and I were both really excited about it. I suggested we get some women together and watch it the next year. She is an even bigger dreamer and arranged for a hundred women to watch it together at Willow Creek church. Leslie is awesome ;)

Anyway, on Tuesday, Brendan came down with the vomits. On Wednesday it hit Rori, and Thursday it hit Liam. I could NOT miss IF!!! I prayed, I Lysoled, and I refused to kiss Bill because he could be a carrier. I told him that I could kiss him all he wanted on Saturday night, but not until then. God, in His mercy, spared me (for now) and I was able to go. 

Oh my goodness, what an amazing, incredible, energizing, exhausting, uplifting experience. I played hookey from church today to decompress. I am an introvert, so spending the last two days as an extrovert took all of my energy. The thought of being around more people--even if they are wonderful Godly people, just makes me want to hide in my bed or rock in the corner. So Bill took the kids to church and I was able to sit and re-watch some of the speakers from the weekend. 

I came away with some amazing thoughts. I still have no idea where God wants me to be, but I know that it's ok to figure out my interests, pursue them, and see if I am good at them. What is important is that I take steps and move forward. I have always been very vocal that I am happy with the status quo. I don't like change. It terrifies me. But, what terrifies me more, is the thought of going to Heaven and God showing me a slide show of what I missed because I didn't take that first step out in faith--that I was scared and stayed in the past and refused to move into new seasons of life. 

I think the reason that I enjoy the past is because I am scared of the future, scared that my gifts aren't big enough. That they don't do enough for the Kingdom. Angie Smith taught me that it's ok if my talents aren't the same as my mom, Jenna, Leslie, Laura, Liza, Ruth, Yvonne, Sonja, or any of the other amazing women with a heart for Jesus that I know. It's ok if I am not the leader, the visionary, the dreamer. I can be just a cheerleader. I can be just an encourager. And that is enough. 

Lynn Hybels shared that what is important is that Rori sees me doing what God put in my heart. That I find out what is mine to do for the Kingdom, not what belongs to someone else. I need to give her permission to find what is hers and encourage her to walk her path. And frankly, I think it's important for me to show my boys as well. They will be able to encourage their wives to follow God's path for their lives as well.  

If you have time today (they are only going to be posted through today), I encourage you to check out some of the speakers--I highly recommend Jen Hatmaker, Christine Caine, Angie Smith, and Lynn Hybels. Be encouraged, 

Joshua 1:9  Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

My secret flaw

I am getting this post in under the wire for my one post a week resolution. I believe that I did give a disclaimer that I stink at resolutions, but one would hope I could make it until at least February before I fail. Last year I joined a book club...well sort of...I have only read 3 of the books and there's one each month. So...par for the course for me. In this book club, I have learned that I am alone in something that I do. I thought everyone does this. But I was wrong.

I am here to confess...I read the end of books. I read the end of books shortly after reading the beginning, and before I have read the middle. Apparently everyone else reads the beginning, middle, and then the end. I HAVE to find out what happens, I CAN'T wait. It could be DAYS before I finish and who can wait that long to find out who dunnit, or who dies, or if they get together? I have ALWAYS been like this, and it's not just books. I do it with movies and television shows. I don't think I told Bill this, but the series finale of Burn Notice was on while he was playing basketball. We agreed we would watch it together when he got home. However, I heard that a main character was going to die. There was no way that I could sit through the whole finale and be worried about my beloved characters. I wouldn't be able to enjoy it. I would be stressed out the whole time. So, I fast-forwarded through the episode until I found out who died. Then I was able to relax and enjoy watching it with Bill. I also just did this with the series finale of White Collar. We have like 6 episodes on the DVR, but the finale was on TV the other day...just the end...and I watched it...I had to know and it was RIGHT THERE in front of me. Sometimes, when there is a movie out, that looks to be particularly suspenseful, I google the ending so that I can be prepared. Phew. This feels good to get off my chest.

The first book we read for book club, I was able to get on my Kindle. I distinctly remember telling Bill that reading on a Kindle made it much harder to skip to the end. He said he was glad because he hates that I have no willpower. I resolved to read the book in the order the author intended. A day later, I explained to him that while it's harder to skip to the end, it turns out, it's not impossible. sigh. fail. The girls in my Book Club were horrified. Fortunately they like me anyway and did not kick me out. So we can still be friends, right?

Stepping Out in Faith

When I started this blog, 6 years ago, I wanted to deal with the stillbirth of our daughter. I had just started reading Angie Smith's blog about the loss of her baby, and Steven Curtis Chapman's daughter, Maria, had just died. I saw how healing writing out your feelings can be. My blog has been a blessing to me as I have worked out these feelings, and I am thankful for it. However, it has morphed into much more--stories about my family, stories about our friends, and stories about my joys and struggles with mommy-hood. Today, our Faith would be 11 years old. So, in honor of her birthday, I am unrolling a new look for my blog, as well as a new title "Stepping Out in Faith". It will still have the same URL www.morethanihopedfor.com because for now, that's just easier, and I like easier.

I stink at making New Year's resolutions--just ask me about the one where I was going to learn to start saying "no" to stuff...avoidance and hiding have been better, albeit less healthy, techniques I have implemented. However, this year is about being brave. I love to write, but I have been held back by fear. I am terrified of failure. I have feared that I have nothing to say, nobody will understand what I am saying, and noone will read it. But, this year, I have learned that I have a lot to say, friends have been incredibly encouraging, and the people that I love read it, so that's enough for me...for now. So, as long as God gives me words, I am going to write them. And I am going to set the a goal of writing one post per week. I know, a WHOLE post EVERY week. I am sure you're thinking, "can she really do that?" I assure you, I will fail at it. But I figured if I set the bar pretty low, I will succeed more than I will fail, so, there you go. .

So, here is to a New Year filled with Bravery (15 days late, but that's how I ALWAYS roll)!

My Samantha Doll

There are some things in my life that I feel are sacred and so I don't write about them. I don't want to put them out there, lest they be trampled or just not understood in the way that I want. I worry that I won't do it justice. My dad's awful heart surgery a few years ago was one of those things. My American Girl doll is also one of those things. I wanted to keep it to myself--within my immediate family, who gets it, who gets how special it was. But, I have decided I am going to try.

I have written about how I wanted a Samantha doll since I was 7 or 8 years old. I would pour over the catalogs and read about all of the extra things you could get to go with your doll. I had all of the dolls, their stories, and their accessories memorized. When I had Rori, I hoped that someday she would want an American Girl doll and maybe I would get her a Samantha one. But then...they discontinued Samantha!!! I assumed that was it for me and my Samantha dream. A year ago, I got wind that she was coming back!! I was nerdily excited! I came home and told everyone--strangely, nobody's excitement level matched mine. She finally arrived in stores this October. I really wanted to get one, but Rori had enough American Girl dolls, so I knew it would be silly to get her one just because I had wanted Samantha.

On Christmas, I had one gift from my parents. I opened it and it was a doll outfit from the Target version of American Girl. My mom played it off as though she accidentally wrapped Rori's present with my name. She had my dad run out to the car to get my gift. I had a feeling...when my dad came in carrying a bag with a long wrapped box in it, I started to cry. Then, my mom, through tears of her own, said "I am sorry it's so late" and then the ugly cry started (not hers, mine). My heart was so full, I thought it would burst as I tore through the paper and saw my very own Samantha doll. My mom is not a frivolous person, she doesn't go throwing money around willy nilly, so I know how much it meant for her to be able to give me my doll, and it meant the world to me.

Unbeknownst to me, my mom had bought the doll back in October, but didn't know what she was going to do with it. She didn't know if it would be appropriate to give to me, or if I would think it was silly since I am slightly out of the American Girl target demographic. She thought about giving her to Rori, but it wouldn't have the same meaning. Then she read my blog post about my dad and I going to American Girl, and she knew she should give her to me. And this was the second greatest gift I have ever received (you know, behind Jesus ;) ).

My dad

I try not to brag about what I have, but please indulge me this one time. I have the greatest dad on earth. Growing up, we didn't have a lot of money--we weren't wanting for anything, but we didn't have a lot of indulgences. I didn't have "Guess" jeans, Cable tv, and I never got an American Girl Doll. When I was little, there were only three choices--Samantha, Kirsten, and Molly. I wanted Samantha. I never complained about not getting one, I understood they were very expensive. I joke now, that I was scarred by it, but I really wasn't. It was ok. You know why not having those things was ok? Because of my parents. My mom is awesome too, but I'll write about her later (poor moms, we always get shafted--do our work in the shadows).

My dad is awesome. I have many incredible memories of him, but something that I can really say, is that his love and time spent with me stayed a constant over time. Even though he worked full time, I think I can count on one hand how many of my tennis matches he missed during my four years of high school. He was always there, cheering me on, coaching me, encouraging me.

In college, my dad traded territories with another co-worker so that he could have Grand Rapids. He would come and visit me. He would take me to dinner, we'd go grocery shopping, turn in our aluminum cans (you get 10 cents a can in GR--paid for my books in college!), and then we'd go hang out at his hotel room and I got to watch Nick at Nite--we had very few channels on our college tvs, so this was a luxury. My roommates would often comment on how lucky I was to have a dad like that. But, it's all I had ever known.

Today, my dad was going to drive me to the American Girl store in Chicago so that I could pick up some things that my mom, sister, and I were going to get our girls for Christmas. He was going to take a day off of work just to drive Brendan and me to the city, and while I shopped at American Girl, he was going to entertain Brendan at the Lego store. We ended up not needing to go (the lady on the phone at AG was so helpful that I was able to just order what we needed), but honestly, I am a little bummed. I joked that I was going to pretend I was 8 and my dad was taking me to American Girl since we couldn't do that when I was 8 (and actually I'm not certain the store was in Chicago back then--good Lord, I'm getting old).

He chose the theme from the Princess Bride for our dance

It wasn't until I was an adult that I've really learned that not all dads are like mine. I know why it's so easy for me to love and trust my Heavenly Father. It's because He has given me such a wonderful earthly father. And for that I am so blessed--more than if I had a hundred Samantha dolls.

And I became a hot mess

Tour of my living room

This year I have grown up, in many ways. I am not going to go into the deep and meaningful ways right now--I'll save that for another time :) When Bill and I got married, we were blessed with a lot of hand me downs. We were really young, finances were tight, so these gifts were much appreciated. However, as time went on, I learned that my taste was different and I kind of hated the colors of my living room. It was pure laziness and obnoxious frugality that had prevented me from changing it over the years. This spring, I painted over our forest green walls with a gorgeous grey color.

This is the best picture I could find. Note the lamps--egad! and the color of the chair and the coffee table wasn't my style either.

We weren't sure what to do with the mauve/rose colored chairs. They are really good quality chairs, so we got them re-upholstered in a neutral taupe color. Then I got to pick my accent colors. I am obsessed with aqua! Bill and his dad built me a bench for our entry way that opens up and has 5 cubbies for the kids' backpacks and I painted it a happy shade of aqua. 

I don't know why I waited so long to be a grown up, but I am so glad I did. I love to sit in the living room and drink my coffee in the quiet of the morning. 

I'm not done with the wreath--I didn't have enough berries, but shocker, Brendan isn't up for going to JoAnn's until after he has lunch.

I love my woodland animals--Bill made fun of me for bringing the reindeer home, the next day he came home w/ the polar bear and fox

Love the picture from my mom of the kids acting out the nativity scene. 

So there you have it! I just have to get new curtains for the dining room, re-cover the dining room chairs and then I'll post pictures of it. I did get the most lovely light fixture that I'm excited to post!

Fear and Grace

My whole life I have struggled with fear. As a child, and honestly through most of my adulthood, I have been afraid of not fitting in, of being made fun of, of people not liking me. I care what people think.

Ever since losing our baby, Faith, my fear has turned into a sometimes crippling anxiety. I know that things don't always turn out the way we want. I know bad things happen in an instant. I know that life is incredibly fragile. Worst of all, I know that I have no control over any of it. Recently, I feel as if this burden of anxiety has lessened. The weight on my shoulders has been lifted.

I'm going to be honest. I think there are a couple of things that have led to my current state of being slightly less neurotic. I saw the doctor a month or so ago. He gave me a prescription to help my anxiety. I initially felt funny about taking it--but the fact that the anxiety was causing me to be "stress paralyzed" (please watch Moms' Night Out--you will loooove it) on a regular basis, I decided to give it a shot.

The other, and more powerful contributor to my ability to make it through the day without wanting to curl up in a ball in the corner and rock, is the gift of time. Time with Him. Jesus, The Lover of my soul. Brendan is in the Early Childhood program and they built a new building over the summer. Due to this new building, Brendan gets on the bus at 7:00 am. This was BEYOND traumatic for me. But, as always, God knew what he was doing, even if I was kicking and screaming. Now, every morning I put Brendan on the bus, and then while the other two kids are still sleeping, I have my quiet time and read my Bible. I sit in the living room, where for now the sun pours in (winter is a-comin') and start my day seeking Him. I haven't had this kind of quality time in so long, I didn't realize how much my soul was craving it. I am filled with peace, and it spills over into the rest of my day. I am much more pleasant to Rori and Liam when they get up in the morning (most days--I'm not perfect, and neither are they ;)  ). I am less stressed about things I have no control over. And honestly, I believe I no longer have a heart of fear. I am becoming comfortable in my own skin (granted I wish there was a little less of it ;) ).

I know that I am not cured of my anxiety, it is probably going to be the thorn in my side that rears its ugly head now and then, but I am thankful for this respite, no matter how long it lasts.

Matthew 11:28-30 "Come to Me all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

The Great Time Bandit

I hate change. I am pretty sure that anyone who knows me is not surprised by this statement. I feel like Anne of Green Gables when she asks, "Why does everyone have to grow up, marry, and change?" The other day I was going through my old Facebook pages, from when Brendan was born. It felt like a lifetime ago. I saw messages from our old small group--bringing us meals and loving on us, I saw my nephew Noah calling Liam "Baby Bill", I saw Jenna and I experiencing babies together, I saw posts about blow out diapers, kids needing naps, me needing naps, and so many other things that are no longer a part of my daily routine.

So many things have changed since 2009. None of the people who made up our old small group still attend our church. It was a hard adjustment, but we have developed other friendships at church. However, the time with that group is one that I look back on fondly. I don't know if I could've survived the baby stage without those friends--we walked through those trenches together.

I no longer have any kids in diapers! This is not necessarily something I miss, but I miss many of the other things that went with that stage--the snuggles, the tiny fingers and toes, the firsts, the baby laughs, I could go on and on, but Bill would prefer I didn't get my uterus all worked up...

One of my greatest blessings--my friend Leslie, just moved. She moved about 8 minutes away, but she was 2 minutes away, so it causes some change as far as just dropping by. I hate change. People are moving, growing, changing, having big life events.

And now, my friends, the world is continuing to spin. My babies are going back to school tomorrow. My sweet Rori Rose is starting 4th grade. She's in the upper grades of her school. Her body is changing--her face is older, I want it to stop. My Liam James is starting 2nd grade. He is going in with much more confidence than he did first grade. He is changing too--he's all arms and legs and feet. Big feet. And then there's Brendan Rhys. He's starting a new school. He will be riding the bus to school every day because with the other two, I can't take him to school. I hate change.

My life is full. God has blessed us with wonderful friends and family. He has given me grace and a little bit of maturity to deal with all of the change. I miss my babies, but I am immensely proud of the people they are becoming. I just wish it didn't happen so fast. So I will beg the time bandit one more time, please slow down.

Happy 7th Birthday Liam James!

My sweet boy turns 7 today! My firstborn son, the first boy to really capture my heart (Papa was a man when I met him ;) ). It has been quite a year! You started first grade, and God gave you the best teacher for your personality, Miss Stanley. She helped make the transition to all day school much easier. You love to be home and would rather have stayed in half day school :)

You have turned into an excellent reader--you don't enjoy the writing log portion of the reading, but as long as we can find Star Wars or Ninjago books, you are a happy camper. You have also turned into quite the photographer. 80% of the photos of myself that I post on facebook, were taken by you! Somehow, you make me look skinny, pretty, and young. You should start charging for that :)

You started playing soccer, with Papa as your coach. I can't describe how excited I was, watching your first game, thinking of how much you had grown up. It was bittersweet.

You did a mud run this year and I couldn't believe what a difference a year made. Last year, you were tired from running. This year, you took off and left everyone in the dust. I had to sprint to keep up with you and take pictures!

This is when I realized I was going to have to work to keep up with you!

Most of all, I have watched you grow in so many of the qualities that are natural for you. You are a sensitive boy who cares about others. I am often amazed at your generosity--it comes naturally for you. When I say that I would like something--a bite of your cookie, or to play with one of your favorite toys, you are always willing to share. You are a good friend and you make wise choices about who to hang out with. You stand up for what is right. You saw a boy being punched on the playground and you told him to stop, even though it ended up with you being punched. I am so proud of you that my heart feels like it will burst. I wish time would stand still, but fortunately you have promised me that you will live with me forever, I am going to hold you to that!

My Beautiful Mess

This last year I had a bit of a mid-life crisis. I want to write about it because someday Rori may feel the same way and I want her to know that I felt this way at one time and it's ok. Mark Twain said, "Comparison is the death of joy." I know this. I KNOW this, but I can't help it.

One day, I called my mom crying. I felt like my adulthood has been a disappointment to her. I have friends that have beautiful homes, successful careers, or serving the Church in wonderful ways. I feel like I am not enough. I can't keep up with the house work, I went to college and don't use my degree in any way that makes money, I am constantly exhausted, I go from varying stages of out of shape to in shape back to out of shape again, and as far as this raising three kids thing--I don't have a clue what I am doing!

I felt so lost and broken, so not enough, so much a disappointment, and so alone in these thoughts. In so many ways, my life is exactly what I wished for. I wanted to be a mom, I wanted to get to stay home with my babies and raise them. However, I felt like I was failing at that. Things like Facebook and Pinterest show me how all the mommies have their stuff together. Smiling faces, perfect pictures, beautiful homes, and people who are good at doing stuff, people who have talents and are using them in their every day lives. They are all so confident and I felt like they were all rubbing my nose in it. I told myself, "look how organized they are, look how well they are doing this mom thing, look how creative they are, look how talented, how gifted, etc." "Look at yourself, your house is disorganized, you are never going to be able to afford to move, you haven't showered in two days (it actually may be three days), you start things and never finish them, your kids don't like reading, they don't appreciate you, your job doesn't matter, you need some new clothes, and oh yeah, your love handles are getting a little squishy." Most pictures of me, taken during the winter, have me in my winter uniform. That's an Old Navy hoodie with a superhero t-shirt under it. I actually own two Old Navy hoodies. They are exactly the same, except I wrote a number 1 and a number 2 inside of them so that I remember which one needs to be washed. My fashion status has plummeted.

Shortly after these feelings were swirling in my head, my dear friend Leslie, whom God has already used in my life more times than I can count, took me to an early screening of Mom's Night Out. I felt like it should've been called "Mom's Night Out, a movie about Jaime" I imagine very few people would see it with that title though. Basically, the main character says that she is feeling exactly the way I told my mom that I was feeling. An ex-con tattoo artist ends up asking her who she's not enough for. It turns out, she feels she's not enough for herself. He tells her that God made her to just be. To be who He made her to be and not someone else. She learns that while she is a mess, she's a beautiful mess, His masterpiece. 

And this is true. I may be flailing about though this motherhood thing, though this wife thing, through this whole grown-up thing. But I am who I am. I am who God made me to be. I am the wife to Bill, mom to Rori, Liam, and Brendan and that is enough. It's who God wants me to be right now. I wouldn't change that for a bigger house, a wildly successful career, a housekeeper, THREE Old Navy hoodies, or anything else imaginable. 

So, my dear Rori, if you ever feel this way as a Mama, know that you are exactly who God made you to be. Don't miss out on the beautiful moments of today because you are focusing on the messy ones. Being a mom is hard and messy and scary and challenging, it's also beautiful, and amazing, and so very very worth it. I am enough, you are enough, and until you realize that, you can't experience the great JOY that is in the life God has given you. 

Old Sweatpants

I decided to not blog during our Advent activities this year. It was part of my attempt at keeping things simple, sacred, and sane. I feel pretty confident that I did as well as I could this year, and will strive to do even better next year. I may do a wrap up post at some point because I took pictures and I will need to remember what we did so I can do it all again next year :)

I also chose not to do at tenth birthday post for Faith. I have been wanting to take pressure off of myself this year. I feel under almost constant pressure to make everyone happy, do the right thing, be strong, etc. It got to the point that a few times last year I was experiencing heart palpitations. So, I decided that if a post didn't come to mind, I wasn't going to force it and pressure myself into something deep and meaningful. That's not to say that I didn't think of her. Honestly, I think of her all the time. And ten years is a big birthday. I hate that our world is broken, that DNA is broken, that humans are broken and that I have not had her with me for the last ten years. But God is good. He is good yesterday, today, and tomorrow. That is the hope that I will cling to for the rest of my days.

Anywhoo--this is becoming much longer than I had planned and I haven't even gotten started :) Bill and I watch the show "Men at Work." It's on TBS and we think it's hysterical. It's probably totally inappropriate, but whatever. Anyway, last week, one of the characters told another character that her relationship with her boyfriend was like an old pair of sweatpants. He meant that they go together well and are really comfortable. She took this as a bad thing and when her boyfriend proposed, she broke up with him.

This winter has been rough--and it's not even February yet. It's been the winter of vomits--in my case I felt that my insides were now on my outside, and that I may have to die to get better. I was so exhausted and dehydrated that when I got an ice cube and dropped it on the carpet, I almost ignored the cat hair, dog hair, carpet fuzz and Captain America sticker stuck to it instead of going all the way back to the kitchen to get another. Almost. To say that it's been cold is an understatement. I'm pretty sure that my kids will be going to school until Fall. I have fed my children 14 times today and was interrupted at least 5 times, for emergencies, during my shower today. There were all kinds of emergencies--"can I have a popsicle?" "Can you open my popsicle?" "Can you find my DVD?" etc. Let's say I am ready for Spring.

Sunday night Bill came home from basketball. We watched some shows, talked for a while and he rubbed my feet. He could tell I was getting drowsy and ready to go up to bed. He said to me "I am starving, but I'm scared if I get up you will go to bed." For some reason that sentence meant the world to me. He enjoyed my company (drowsy as it was) so much that he was willing to skip his after basketball snack. There is really nothing like an old pair of sweatpants. I can do the vomits, the interruptions, the whining, the cold, as long as I have my old pair of sweatpants, and there is nothing boring about that!

Day 2 Soldiers!

Today I got to accomplish both of my Advent goals! Our activity was very simple, but it was also very sweet. It needed to be a relativly quick activity because I wasn't going to be home--I am taking an exercise class at the Park District (hence avoiding the dreaded holiday weight gain!) and it is in the evening. So we thought it would be a great opportunity for the kids to make cards for soldiers. Here is the website where I got the address to mail the cards. It worked out perfectly--the cards should make it to Maryland just in time for the deadline. We did this last year--and I love it because it teaches our kids about the men and women that make sacrifices daily for our country.

When I got home from my class the kids were very excited to show me their cards and Bill forgot to take pictures during, so I took some when I got home. You will never be able to tell which child of mine is the biggest ham...

Anyway, yay for simple and sane activities! (and burning some calories!)

So It Begins...Advent Day 1

My goals for this Advent Season are twofold. I want to keep our activities simple and sane so we can focus on the sacred. And I want to not gain any weight. Let's see which one ends up being more difficult :) This year I made the mistake of suggesting to Bill that we not do Advent activities because they tend to lead me to exhaustion and someone ends up crying and then I end up yelling something along the lines of, "WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FOCUSING ON JESUS AND BE LOVING AND KIND TO EACH OTHER!" Truly sacred, ay? Somehow Bill and the kids don't remember the Advent Activities in the same way that I do and I was met with cries of "we have to do it! We love it! We won't whine, I promise!" And those were just from Bill :)  So I agreed, but I told Bill I wanted to try and make it more simple so that we could keep the focus on waiting for Jesus. And so I didn't lose my mind--I have very few airplane xanax left!

Anyway, so the movie Frozen came out recently and Grandma Casey asked if she could take the kids to see it. We suggested making it the first Advent activity. I had an internal war with myself--I really wanted to see the movie too but I didn't want to infringe on Grandma's time, but she was very gracious and said that we could come too! It was really cute and we all really enjoyed it, although Rori was starting to get really angry about the ridiculous number of previews beforehand. She is the opposite of Bill in this manner!

Anyway, it was a very lovely time and a great start to the Advent Season! Thank you Grandma Casey for a great day!

Please don't judge the quality of the photo. I am just happy my phone has a camera with a flash...Blame the movie theater--they should've put Olaf in the crazy well lit lobby.

He is coming!

It's the week before Thanksgiving. Christmas is right around the corner, and it's time for me to begin planning our family's Advent season. This morning, before school, I was telling Liam how many days of school are left before Thanksgiving break. Then I told him it will be Advent! He asked "what is Advent?" This gave me pause. He's six, so he hasn't heard the word thrown around by itself--only with the terms Advent Calendar and Advent Activities. So, I explained, Advent is us waiting. We are waiting for Jesus to be born. Waiting for Him to come to save the world. He looked at me and smiled and scampered off.

"I don't want a Christmas you can buy. I don't want a Christmas you can make. What I want is a Christmas you can hold. A Christmas that holds me, makes me, revives me. I want a Christmas that whispers, Jesus" Ann Voskamp

Yes. This. This is what I want for our Advent season. I want our actions to whisper His name, to get us excited that He is coming. Bill and I talked about buying a Wii U for the boys and for Bill for Christmas this year. For our family, that kind of gift is considered fairly extravagant. We figured out a way to get the extra money without it causing a burden to our budget. Yet, I felt unease. Please don't misunderstand me, I think it's fine to buy extravagant gifts at Christmas. Last year, my goal was to blow Bill's mind with presents because gifts are his love language. However, I don't think Christmas needs to focus on outdoing the previous year. We decided now is not the time to give them this present. Instead, now is the time to teach my munchkins the joy of giving--the character building of waiting for something, saving for it, wanting it. I want to teach them about the opportunity to be counter-cultural. More than anything, I want them to be waiting for Jesus.

Stay tuned for the beginning of Advent!

Brendan and the Knee

Ever since I have known Bill, he has suffered from arthritis. He told me that he had Juvenile Arthritis as a child. Every spring and fall I watch him quietly dealing with the pain in his knees, ankles, and hands. He tosses and turns at night while he tries to "steal my heat" to bring warmth to his aching joints.

Almost two weeks ago, Brendan complained about his knee aching. We looked at it and it was swollen. We assumed he had hurt it somehow, and gave him some ibuprofen and iced it. He managed to trick or treat on Thursday, but I ended up carrying him for the second half of it but that's not unusual. He loves to be carried and since he's my baby, I will oblige until I cannot any longer. There's a good chance I'm going to end up with a bicep  on my right arm to rival Arnold Schwarzenegger and scoliosis from him sitting on my hip, but it's worth it.

His knee stayed swollen but he didn't complain about it. Monday, Bill's mom noticed he grimaced as he got up and called Bill to tell him it was really swollen (we were both at work). Bill got him a doctor's appointment and I visited Dr. Google. The very first thing to come up was Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. My heart sank. I think God was preparing me for what the pediatrician had to say. After looking him over, she was confident it was juvenile arthritis and referred us to a pediatric rheumatologist at the Children's hospital.

I called and made an appointment. They couldn't get us in until the middle of January. Our pediatrician called and got us in within 2 days. My heart cried out to Jesus, our Great Physician, that he would heal my baby boy. I asked my friends and family to do the same. I didn't want to watch my baby suffer the way his Papa has. The day before his appointment I had to carry him around much of the day. His knee hurt and he even said to me at one point, "I hate this day." My heart hurt and my worry increased.

We went to the rheumatologist and she looked him over and said it was too early to diagnose him with arthritis--he needed to be swollen for 6 weeks. She requested a million blood tests (which he was A CHAMP for) and X-rays, and also insisted that we see an ophthalmologist because it shows up in the eyes as well. They told us we might not get the results back for 1-3 weeks. Normally this would have made my anxiety level skyrocket. However, I truly believe that God gave me peace during the waiting. The only sign of stress was an increase in eating my feelings--I may have had a few pieces of Halloween candy, the best cupcake known to man, and a giant plate of pulled pork nachos. What can I say?...Trust me, it could've been much much worse. We continued to pray and I knew there was a possibility that God would choose not to heal him. But, I knew that no matter what happened, God was good and He was the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. We went to the ophthamologist and everything looked good. His leg, however, stayed swollen.

Yesterday I got a call from the nurse. He told me that Brendan's blood tested positive for a bacterial organism that causes infectious arthritis. A round of strong antibiotics should knock it out. It may take a few weeks for the swelling to go down, but it should completely clear up. I am so incredibly thankful that it's not Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. I can see God's hand in all of this--from getting us in to see the doctor so quickly (we found out while we were there that a conference the rheumatologist was going to was cancelled, so she decided to have office hours--thus us getting in so quickly), to them testing for the right bacteria, to the results coming back quickly and being treatable. I am thankful that God chose to heal him. And more than anything, I am thankful that God has given me friends who love Him, that I can go to and ask to meet me at His Throne.

Is that not the cutest face you've ever seen?