Redneck Pool Party

It's summertime! And with that, of course, returns a favorite Georgia pastime - the redneck pool party. Just because we live in a neighborhood that is blessed with a wonderful pool for the kids doesn't mean we moms don't occasionally get lazy and opt for the easier solution to our little one's desires for water. Thankfully, a plastic baby pool from Walmart can certainly fill a need when you're in a pinch.

So, here are some pictures of this momentous event: our first redneck pool party of 2009. Some of our fun neighbors - Carter, Kelsey, and Eva - even joined us (afterall, who could pass this up??). Colby and Carter decided to go all out in true redneck fashion by wearing just a diaper and underroos for the occasion. And Kelsey opted for going topless. Everyone really got into the theme. Thanks for making it so special, guys!

Bike, Daddy, Bike

Colby has a new phrase - and it's almost the only thing he says these days. It's "Bike, Daddy, bike!".
It began when he would watch Paisley ride her bike. He can't reach the pedals yet so Curtis decided to let him ride on his handlebars while Curtis rode SLOWLY along side Paisley. This progressed into Colby's obsession with bikes and riding along with Daddy.

He wakes up in the morning... "Bike, Daddy, bike!"
He sees Curtis pull into the driveway after work... "Bike, Daddy, bike!"
He sees the bike loaded on the back of Curtis's car... "Bike, Daddy, bike!"
He sees a bike on ANYONE else's car... "Bike, Daddy, bike!"
He sees the kids in the neighborhood riding their bikes... "Bike, Daddy, bike!"
He sees a biker riding past us as we walk up Kennesaw Mountain Road together... "Bike, Daddy, bike!"
He hears Curtis's voice on the phone... "Bike, Daddy, bike!"
He sees a red car that looks like Curtis's... "Bike, Daddy, bike!"

You get the picture, right?
It's ALL he thinks about. Well, that and his scooter (which he loves) and balls of any size, shape or kind. Occasionally, he'll get excited about his other toys too - but really he's obsessed with the bike.
Curtis loves it.
One day, the 2 of them will be biking fools together.
But for now... I'm hanging onto his sweet enthusiasm and delight in just riding along with Curtis.
"Bike, Daddy, bike!"

Happy 2nd Birthday, Colby!

Well, it's hard to believe that this time 2 years ago I was STILL in labor and delivery - probably between 9 to 10 centimeters for what seemed like several, long hours (yes, during both of my labors my body decided to take a "pause" between 9 and 9.5 cm for hours - inevitably delaying my arrival at the euphoric 10 cm when I finally got to push the baby out). Despite the immense pain Colby put me through during labor and delivery, the wonderful thing about giving birth is that you are still willing to do it all over again no matter how bad the pain gets. Either that or I'm just crazy - because I'm obviously willing to go through this again (baby #3 is due in October). It would be really nice if I thought my next baby would be kind to me and come easily and on time... but chances are not in my favor for that, considering the last two.

Anyway, onto more important things: Happy Birthday, Colby! The past 2 years have filled me with so much joy and happiness. I love your spirit of adventure and your cautious curiosity towards trying anything that interests you. You are always happy! You love life! Very few things make you fuss or cry. You make everyone who knows you smile - and people actually beg me to babysit you or keep you in the church nursery. Now that is every mother's dream!

At 2 years old, here is what excites you:
You love balls - any size, color or type. You love sports of any kind: basketball, baseball, lacrosse, football, soccer, tennis, golf, biking, etc. If it involves hitting or throwing a ball, then it will be a big hit with you too. You also love your scooter and ride it every day - several times if I'll let you. I can see that there is a little "rule follower" in you though - you always remember to wear your helmet and remind others to wear theirs as well. You are a champ at gymnastics and your coach cannot believe how strong you are in your upper body and core strength. You also have great balance too. Swimming is not your best sport - you love the water but don't like to be on your own in it. (Daddy will work on that with you this summer.) Speaking of Daddy, you love riding on the handlebars of his bike and ask to do it all the time. Just the sight of a bike makes you ask for him. And I can tell how much it saddens you that your legs are not long enough to reach the pedals of Paisley's bike... one day you will reach, little man, and it will be that day, I'm afraid, that will sadden me. You are growing up too quick!

You are a people pleaser. You want to make others happy. Of course, you're only 2... but I see in you a little bit of my uncle Jim. Everyone loves Jim and always has - he always had many friends and was fun to be around. I think you may take after him in that. We'll see... you certainly are an easy child to love and discipline (unless the terrible two's proves me wrong on this point). So far you have been, at least! And you are a quick learner too - you know most of your colors and I can tell you listen to me and Daddy as we teach Paisley so you probably know a lot more than we even realize at this point. You love books - and never hesitate to ask for "more, more" each night before you go to bed. It's hard for me to say no because I know how good they are for you and how much you love them so.

Lastly, you are a big fan of trucks, airplanes, and trains. It helps that we have a train track behind our house and two airports nearby so you get your fill regularly. You love animals too - but for some reason you are afraid of dogs (not our chocolate lab, Ranger, but every other dog seems to fill you with fear). I hope you grow out of that - because your mama loves animals too.

I tell you all of this because I want you to be able to look back one day and know what was important to you at this age. I wish there were enough words to express the joy that having you has given me. I never knew how much I could love my second child, but there really IS enough love in the world for more than one. You are a special little boy - and I'm so glad you're mine. God has richly blessed me with my beautiful children and you, my son, are a true gift from heaven. If this baby I'm carrying is another boy I'll be so happy for you that you have a brother. I know you'll be so good to him and show him the ropes. But if this baby is a girl, I'll be happy too... because that means you'll be my only little boy and you will always be special to me for that reason (and many more!).

I love you, Colby Reese!

I wish I had learned this young...

The sport of skiing. It's fun. It's fast. It's exhilarating.

And, yes it can (at times) be dangerous.

Often a day of skiing leaves you sore, bruised and broke. Yep, that's right - let's not forget what an pricey sport this is as well. (I mean seriously people - have you checked into the cost of lift tickets recently? It's outrageous!) Yet, many people love this sport and insist upon at least one ski vacation a year.

My husband is one of them.

He grew up in the North (y'all will have to forgive this poor southern girl for marrying a "damn yankee") and his parents first placed him on skis when he was only 3 years old. Considering I am an average skier at best - I grew up in Tennessee learning to ski at Ober Gatlinburg (to say this little resort needs snow machines to even exist is an understatement) - I can tell you that my husband is an extraordinary skier. He flies down the mountain with all of the skill and ease that you might see watching a cheetah cross the savannah. He heads off double black diamond slopes with no fear. And he masters any course of his choosing as if he were simply taking a leisurely stroll. It's impressive to watch!

Not me. I am a more conservative skier. Having only learned when I was 12 and being blessed with a considerably more cautious personality - I have never embraced the sport with the same passion he has. Oh, I like it a lot. It's great fun! And I am constantly challenging myself to improve. I love seeing the mountains draped in a veil of snow one moment and then relaxing by a toasty fire the next. So, it wasn't hard for Curtis to convince me to take a ski vacation every year - and seeing as I always wished I was as comfortable on skis as he is, I am absolutely in favor of our kids growing up on skis.

Which brings me to the point of this blog post. Paisley was first on skis when she was 1.5 years old. She didn't do much but go down the bunny slope between her daddy's legs, but hey we got some great photos and video and she can tell everyone she was on skis when she was still a toddler. We put her on skis a year later and she was more confident but still not ready for ski school. But this year... at 3.5 years old she went to ski school every day for a week. It is amazing how quickly they pick this sport up when they are little and unafraid. I can see that she will grow up loving to ski just like her daddy - and she is absolutely the cutest skier that I have ever seen.

I am posting a video of her skiing down the mountain below. Curtis had a harness on her with a leash so he could catch her if she went astray and guide her around sharp turns, etc. The slope we are traversing in the video was a green (which for those of you who don't ski is the easiest slope they have besides the bunny slope), but it did require taking the gondola up to reach it (which means it was pretty high up) and going down it lasted about 45 minutes. Paisley did it with us several times over the course of the week. She sang songs as she went down the mountain and even carried her stuffed puppy dog with her. She skied with more confidence and less fear than many adults we passed on the way down.

Before we had kids, it was always a dream of mine when I saw the little kids skiing down the mountain (usually better than me) that one day I would watch with pride as my kids ski down the slopes too - looking adorable and having great fun. So, this video is literally a dream come true for me (as corny as that sounds). It gave me and Curtis the biggest smile to see her doing so well and having so much fun. Curtis has skied all over the US and Canada, on all level of hills and with tons of friends and family over the course of 34 years... and he said skiing that green level slope with Paisley was the best ski run he's ever had in his whole life.

Note: just so Colby doesn't get left out of this story - he got on skis for the first time at 1.5 years old this year and did great. There is video of him here too. I guess it's inevitable, before too long my kids will be skiing better than I do!

Easter to a 4 year old

Happy Easter, friends. He is risen! I'm so blessed and grateful for my King! Isn't this just a wonderful day! It has always been one of my favorites.

I asked Paisley this afternoon if she remembered what was special about today - of course, we went to church this morning then opened the basket of goodies left by the Easter Bunny (and Nana) afterwards, and she has been learning about it in school for weeks, so there has been plenty of mention of what today is... but I wanted to see how she'd answer me.

She guessed correctly that today was Easter. I asked her what was special about Easter. And this is how she answered.
"Jesus gives us spring bunnies... (pause) and He gave us life too."
Simplistic. Yes.
True. Yes.
Were there some major omissions in her definition? Yes... but in light of what today is really about, I know He understands.

In loving memory...

Sadness lingers in my heart today. My first baby - or at least it felt that way until I actually gave birth to a real baby almost 4 years ago - died this morning. His name was O'Malley and I was blessed to find him just 13 short years ago. I met him at an adoption center at Petsmart and he literally chose me - but it was mutual love at first sight. He was just a teeny thing then - only 6 weeks old. White and grey and the cutest thing I had ever seen. The entire litter was abandoned by their mother and the foster parents had given them musical names. His was Fugue... which we quickly changed to O'Malley (after the Disney flick - the Aristocats) once he was officially mine.

I know many of you reading this probably hate cats. A large number of people I know do - but let me tell you this cat was loving and kind from day one. He was my best bud in many ways - sleeping at the foot of my bed with me (sometimes on the top of my pillow), letting me cry into his fur during sad times and greeting me with happiness after I had been gone. And nothing made him happier than curling up on my lap on the couch late at night while I watched TV.

I feel guilt in many ways... because my marriage interfered with my relationship with O'Malley quite a bit. He and Curtis immediately took a disliking to each other and Curtis forbid him to sleep in bed with us or to get on the couch with me. Looking back, I wish I had fought for his rights a little more but I wanted to keep peace in the house so I assumed it didn't matter that much. Looking back, I am filled with regret about that. Then when my kids came along it became even more difficult for me. There is only so much love a person can give and my husband and kids came first - what was left was for O'Malley... but that wasn't always very much. He stayed in the basement a lot - his choice - but if I had seen him more, I think I would have remembered to love him more. Regrets, regrets... it's hard to look back and see things differently once it's too late.

I know he's just a cat but he was part of my family. He was part of me. I will always cherish the happy memories he brought to my life. I only hope I brought him half as much in return...

Are we strong or just spoiled?

This is the question Beth Moore posed in her "Esther: It's Tough To Be A Woman" study last night and I cannot get it out of my head. She's referring to our faith in God and how it would hold up under tougher circumstances. I am blessed to live in a country where I have freedom of religion and no one is going to persecute me or look down on my for loving Jesus. Oh sure, there are some that will criticize if I come across TOO religious or TOO bible-loving. But overall being a christian in America is a wonderful thing and most will lovingly accept my faith. My girlfriend, Leigh Ann, just returned from a mission trip in India. She met people there who have been ostracized from their family and friends for their faith in Jesus; people whose only "church" to worship in is the shade of a tree out in a field (in 75+ degree weather) but they cherish their time of worship. I know people who won't drive to church in a heated, well-furnished building because it's raining outside that day. Man, we take things for granted in this country, don't we?

How about the story of Job? Satan challenged God that Job was only devoted to Him because God had blessed him (Job) so much. He questioned God: "if you take away what matters to him most, will he still love and worship you or will he curse you instead?" Well, certainly Job showed Satan that his faith was strong and not just spoiled!! God took away everything that mattered to him - his wife, his children, his property and his health... one by one. Yet, Job's faith did not waver. He was devoted and loving to God throughout. How I wished I knew for sure that I was that strong? Of course no one would ever wish to go through any of the following tragedies personally but how I wish I knew if my faith would withstand them. I wish I could be 100% sure that if a gun was put to my head and I was told to deny my faith in God, that I would refuse and instead sing "The Lord's Prayer" as they pulled the trigger - as some of the children did at Columbine. Wouldn't I love to know without a shadow of a doubt that I would stand by God if I lost my entire family tomorrow? I don't even know how you begin to get up off your knees and go on in that situation, but I believe that God would lift me up and hold me until I am strong enough to support myself. And I pray that I would trust in Him to get me through it... I don't know any other option? I feel extremely heartbroken for someone who loses a child... but even more heartbroken for someone in the same position that doesn't know God. Where do they turn? Who carries them when they cannot walk themselves? Who shows them love when they cannot even find all of the pieces of their heart to begin putting it back together? Who heals them - when medicine and worldly cures only make them feel worse inside?

My friend, Shannon, has a close friend who lost a child in her 39th week of pregnancy. The baby was fine one day and then wasn't moving the next. She went in for tests and everything looked alright so they sent her home. They didn't do an ultrasound which might have shown a problem. The next day, no movement again and she went back. There was no heartbeat. Imagine, after years of infertility and miscarriages, carrying a baby 39 weeks inside of you, opting not to induce because you wanted to let the baby come in it's own time, and doing everything right to protect your child... and one mistake by your Dr. that could absolutely have been prevented, and you end up burying your baby before you even get the chance to know who he was! No one should feel that pain. But the woman this happened to did not turn from God. No, she turned TOWARDS God. She prayed more, she believed more, she trusted more and she loved God more. She even asked her friends, and their friends, and their friends, etc. to pray with her... and for her... and most importantly to praise God for His goodness and grace. In your time of sorrow and loneliness, can you say that you would do the same? I don't know if I could. Well, happily her faith has been rewarded and she is due to have a baby in September. She has been rewarded for her faith and love... just as God rewarded Job.

I personally am going to pray for more strength and more devotion. That no matter what comes my way, my faith will stay strong. I cannot imagine losing my health, my husband, or my children - but I know that without God... I have nothing and I must keep that relationship strong so that when this world lets me down, I can lean on His love and His grace to carry me through.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. "(Deuteronomy 31:6)

God - the most handsomest prince of all!

Paisley just came up to me and asked if she could tell me a story. "Of course" was my reply. I asked her what the story was about?
She said "Heaven."
This got my complete attention. I was curious what she would say about heaven so I listened carefully.
The story began this way, "I went to Heaven this morning. And when I got there, I saw a big beautiful mirror. And God asked me to look into the mirror and tell Him what I saw. So I looked and I saw God in the mirror."
I said "Wow, you saw God? What did He look like?"
Paisley took my face in her hands and looked me dead in the eyes as she said "Mama, He is the most handsomest prince of all!"
This made my heart smile.
"So what happened next?" I asked.
Paisley continued, "Then God looked in the mirror. He looked very carefully and He smiled, and then everything was beautiful just like Him... (pause) (big smile - for both of us) and we ALL lived happily ever after!"

I don't mean to insert too much meaning in my child's sweet story but I sure do like that God is her "most handsomest prince of all" and that she "lived happily ever after" in heaven with Him. Since the day she was born, my greatest two hopes for her would be that she'd love the Lord with all of her heart and that she'd find a wonderful man to grow old with one day. I don't know what qualities she'll look for in a man when she grows up - but if she holds onto this standard, I know she'll be just fine!

Stories (of all kinds)

Paisley loves stories. We always read 10-20 minutes of books to her before bedtime every night. After that, she'll ask whoever puts her to bed to tell her (at least) one story. She usually dictates who the major characters are and sometimes what they are doing... but she always wants you to create the main plot of the story line. One night as I was listening as Curtis put her to bed, she asked him to tell her a story about how we met. He told her our story and did a really great job in doing so (considering we met in a bar - which is NOT how either of us wanted to meet our soul mate - he smoothed over that part of the story very nicely). I was teary eyed listening to him. It's one of those "Hallmark commercial" moments... and I loved it.

The other day her babysitter, Raz, was putting her to bed. She read her several different books and told her several stories, and after some time she finally told Paisley it was time to go to sleep. Paisley said to Raz "Please Ms. Raz - just one more." Raz thought for a moment and replied "Alright, just one more." She picked up a book and began to read to her.

Paisley quickly interrupted her.
"No, Ms. Raz... not like that.... I want you to read me a book from your mouth."
:-)

The many costumes of Colby (remember he DOES have an older sister!!)

Colby loves to dress up like Paisley and Mama. He spends 75% of his time with women so keep that in mind as you look over these pictures. At least we know he's in touch with his more feminine side... I'm hoping this will make him a more sensitive husband one day. :-)

It has to end one day... but boy do I cherish it now.

These are just a few of the things we hear Paisley and Colby tell us and others each day. I love hearing such sweet things from their little mouths but I know one day it will all come to a screeching halt (for a period of time, at least). I try to remember to cherish it now and hold onto these memories through those trying, adolescent years. :-) I wish they could stay sweet like this forever.

Paisley:
"You make my heart sing!"
"I love you always and forever."
"I love you more than all of the moon and stars in the sky."
"I love you most of all."
"You're my favorite, bestest friend in the whole world."
"You make my heart smile when I think of you."
"I love you more and more each day."

Colby:
"I (long pause) LOVE (long pause) YOU!!" (as he points and grins)
"Mam" (he's trying to say 'Yes Mam" but it's so cute the way he just says "mam"
"Yea!!" (his excitement at seeing me when I walk in his room to get him)

Happy 65th Birthday, Pop!!

Happy Birthday, Pop!
We all love you very much.
Wish we could be there in person to celebrate with you!
But we did do this little video for you - check out mom's facebook page to see the outtakes as well.

The Dentist

Paisley just brought me a whole tray of pretend food - most of which she informed me was ice cream and cupcakes. (We're going to a birthday party in a few hours so I'm sensing that she has sweets on the brain.) Then she quickly informs me that the tray of food is not for me, but rather it's for her dentist. Her dentist? Really?? Since she has only been to Dr. Mike once and it was a year ago, I am astonished that she is thinking about him all of the sudden today. Of course, he's a friend and neighbor but I still am surprised she has brought him up out of the blue.

So I ask her, "This is for Dr. Mike?" To which she quickly replies, "No."
Ok, now I am really curious. My best friend is also married to a dentist and Curtis has been having some work done on his teeth recently so I'm now thinking maybe she's talking about Chuck.

So next I say to her, "Oh, this is for Uncle Chuck then?" Again, she says, "No!" without hesitation, and I might add sounding a little annoyed with me at this point.

I decide that it's best that I stop guessing and just ask her to tell me who will be the recipient of her yummy food. She tells me it's for O'Malley.
I smile.
O'Malley is our cat.

I then ask, "O'Malley is a dentist?" and she says "Yes..."
(pause)
"O'Malley is the dentist of the Lord."

My cat should be so honored.

I CAN imagine - and that is the problem!

I have been shaken to the core this morning by a story I heard on the news. I cannot stop crying. Sadly, this is just one of many tragic stories in the news each day, but for some reason this one hit me worse than the others. A 4 year old little girl climbed into her family's front-loader washing machine and her toddler brother managed to turn it on with her in there and she died. I am so devastated for this family.

Maybe it's because I have 2 children who are nearly the same ages are the children in the story. Maybe it's because I own a front-loader washing machine on which my toddler son is fascinated with pressing the buttons to see what happens. Maybe it's because I cannot imagine the pain this family must now endure... the guilt the mother will feel for taking her eyes off of her children for even 5 minutes (which is how quickly this happened)... the pain this little boy will grow up with knowing he (albeit accidentally) killed his older sister... the sorrow they all will feel year after year as they live their life without her in it. Nothing will ever be the same for any of them. Their lives, in just 5 short minutes, were forever changed in the worst way!

It's unreasonable I know... but I am now obsessed with teaching Paisley to never climb in a front-loader washing machine or dryer no matter what the circumstance!! The scariest thing is I can potentially see this happening to me one day. Paisley and Colby are playing together happily in the playroom. I go to quickly check my email or change clothes (something all mom's do from time to time without a second thought). The kids begin to chase each other around the main floor - ending up in the laundry room where Paisley thinks it's funny to climb in the front-loader to see if she fits. Colby closes the door on her and begins to press the buttons (thinking this too is funny). The machine starts and he can neither stop it nor open the door (because once it starts, you can't open it unless you have pressed the button, not once but twice, to stop the machine).

This whole scenario has just been added to my list of unbearable nightmares that I forever live with as a mother. The vulnerability of imagining a life without one of my precious children... especially due to a tragedy that could have been prevented. I worry about these nightmares daily. I obsess with how to prevent them all. But I cannot live that way. I cannot live in fear. I cannot let the Devil control my thoughts. I must place these fears and worries in God's hands and trust in Him. It is the only way to live my life. I know that - but it's not always that easy. This is a battle I fight every day. Worrying vs. laying my fears at His feet and trusting that He will never give me more than I can handle. Even though the imperfect part of me wants to remind Him of what I think I can and cannot handle - just in case He doesn't know. The irony, of course, is that He knows all of this better than I do.

I sincerely pray that this family knows the Lord. I hope they can place their devastation, unbearable pain and absolute sorrow at His feet and let Him carry them through this. There is no other way (that I can see) to survive such heartache.
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18

Play on words

Paisley began to complain the other day that her feet were hurting. I assumed she had outgrown her shoes. The conversation went something like this:

Paisley: "Help, my feet are hurting. My feet are really hurting!!"

Me: "Oh no, sweet girl - let me see. Are your shoes hurting your feet?"

Paisley: (highly annoyed) "No, Mama! My shoes are NOT hurting my feet. My feet are hurting inside of my shoes!"