Photogenic is the word I believe you're looking for here.

Wordless Wednesday

Lucky Number 13

And to think on this day, I thought I was the happiest I could ever be. You've spent the last 13 years proving me wrong.

Happy Anniversary my Love, my Best Friend, my Rock, my Soft Place to Land, my Dreamboat, my Laughter, my Partner, my Sounding Board, my Support System, my Therapist, my Safe Place, my Hunka-Hunka Burnin' Love!
PS - To my bridesmaids I offer my deepest apologies. You did nothing to deserve that! Ahoy Maties!

Time Flies ...

Tonight we just happened to be clear on the other side of town and due to construction work had to drive past this building.



On a Friday, thirteen years ago tonight, I was here, decorating the sanctuary in fake white roses and navy blue ribbon. Unfortunately it looked more nautical than I had anticipated.

I Coulda Been A Contender

Watching the Olympic track & field competitions this week, has reminded me of my own track & field dreams, and how they were shattered with a traumatic turn of events. Well, like, totally traumatic, to like a fifteen year old girl.

In the spring of my freshman year of high school, I made the absurd choice to join the track team. I think that absurd reasoning might have had something to do with my best friend Leah and how teenage girls always have to do things together. It was either run track or go home and do homework in the afternoon. Whatever the reason, it was so out of character that my dad had made the comment that he knew I'd quit after a couple of weeks. That was all the motivation I needed to ensure that I finished the season. But when you learn to hide behind the bleachers after only a week of practice, it's pretty obvious that it's not the sport for you.

After a couple of weeks they pulled us all together to determine how well we could high skip. Apparently I did ok, because they asked me to run hurdles.

Um, does it mean less running? Sign me up.

I don't remember getting very much training. It was sorta here's how you do it ... now practice. So I did. Even now, 20 years later, I can remember just a little bit of the feeling of kicking my right leg up over each hurdle and the jarring thud as I hit the ground running. I practiced for quite awhile and thought I had it down pretty good.

My only issue was that due to my stubby little legs, I was forced to take an extra couple of steps in between just to get my right leg up over the next hurdle. So a few days before our first meet, some genius on the coaching staff watched my form and suggested I alternate legs. In theory, this makes total sense. The little stutter steps I was taking right before each hurdle was hurting my time. Alternating right, left, right, left provided a smoother run in between each jump. So the night before my first meet, I was up at the school trying desperately to throw my left leg over every other hurdle. As dusk settled over the field, I thought I had it figured out and finally went home.

The next day, I worried all day long about the afternoons meet. Finally 2:30 came and we loaded onto the bus. As the time came for my event, I felt sick to my stomach. I got in my start position and waited for the horn. As soon as it sounded, I took off. The first hurdle I made with my right leg. I sailed flung over it with little problem. 5 strides later, I awkwardly kicked up with my left leg, slammed into the hurdle and landed on my knees. Oh my, was I embarrassed, but determined to go on. The next hurdle was with my right leg, so I once again made it over, but inwardly groaned as I knew I was going to have to throw that left leg up once again. Not surprisingly, I hit the hurdle again. This time hearing laughter from some jerk in the stands. I picked myself up and made eye contact with my heckler. By this time the race was nearly over, but there was no way I was walking off that field. I decided then to do what I should have done from the beginning and finish the race leading with my right leg.

I did make it to the end, and then sat silent as a stone through the rest of the meet. That trip home was the longest bus ride known to man.

I don't need to tell you that I never jumped a hurdle again after that. But I have noticed myself during these Olympics, counting steps and watching which leg the sprinters lead with. And I always cheer for the short girls. (OK so I think there's only like one short girl, and she's probably nowhere near as short as me. whatever.)

First Day

Yesterday

And today

How in the world did that happen?!

Not too long ago, you were not able to go to sleep until you were snuggled into the crook of my arm, your thumb firmly in your mouth. And now you've taken your first steps into a much wider world, completely separate from me.

When you were born, I was pretty darn sure that you were going to be my baby forever. I was quite content with the two beautiful girls I had ... what more did I need? But before you had even turned two, that plan had changed and I'm so glad that it did. Not just because I adore your baby sister, but because I've loved seeing you in the role of big sister.

You are such a little helper around the house. You love working with me in the kitchen and will often decide go clean up your room or the playroom on your own. I can guarantee you did not get these tendencies from me. You should have seen the sweet little look on your face yesterday when your teacher said you were to be the first 'Happy Helper' on Monday. Oh, the joy! You'll make a great one baby! You were a born happy helper.

I love how big you make your eyes when you are excited, the way you love a good joke, and your happy laugh. It's going to be awfully quiet around here in the mornings. Your baby sister might just be completely lost without you. You are a bright little light in our home and your daddy and I are so proud of you.

Have fun baby ... you're going to be amazing!

She's Poshalicious!

In honor of her beginning steps into the wider world of primary education, I give you two of my favorite "Poshy-the-cheerleader" moments.





What can I say? The kid is 35 pounds of pure exuberant motivation!
Happy Kindergarten day tomorrow. I'll be back with loads of pictures and buckets of sap.

Hello. Goodbye.

Hello Beautiful,

Today is your first day of third grade. I don't think I'm old enough to have a third grader, I mean I'm only 26 years old, right? No, I guess not. That's how old I was when you were born. The time has just seemed to fly right by since the first moment I held your pink squishy softness in my arms.

This last year has been a big one for you. For us both really. For one, I seem to have gotten my little girl back a little bit. Not that I lost you at all, but I always say that around 18 months old, my kids quit being my babies and turn into Daddy's little girls. And really who can blame you when the three of you have the best daddy in the world. I love it in fact. Watching how much you all adore him, and love to be with him is one of the most beautiful things my eyes will EVER see. But over the last year, I've noticed you snuggle a little closer to me on the couch, hug me out of the blue and request shopping trips of just you and I. With each snuggle and hug I try to breathe in deeply ... hoping to permanently affix that moment in time.

This year also brought about a change in your heart. I wanted to write about it at the time ... I tried to write about it at the time. In fact, I still have the draft sitting in my blog account. But somehow, I just couldn't find the words to fully encompass my joy for you. In you. Last spring, in early April, just before bed, you knelt with your daddy (your sisters at your side), and tenderly asked Jesus to be your Lord and Savior. It was a moment that your dad and I had watched evolve in your head since you were very young. (At the age of four you asked me "Mommy, why does sometimes my heart want to do good, but my head says 'no'?" It blew my mind how at such a young age, you could understand such a seemingly complicated biblical principle.) I've treasured watching the Lord work in your life since that time. And I will treasure each moment that is yet to come.

I love you so much baby, and I'm more proud of you than you could ever comprehend. Enjoy your third grade year, and all of the new independence that may bring.

All My Love,
Your Mama

(I know this isn't a photo of you and I, but I think you know by now that your mom is never going to be photo ready this early in the morning. If only we took AFTER the first day of school pictures .....)

Suburban Sprawl

Wordless Wednesday

Let The Countdown Begin

Their backpacks were hung by the doorway with care ....




The Pros:

• No more fighting.
• A slightly cleaner home.
• Someone far more qualified than I is learning them.
• I can think for all the blessed quiet.

The Cons:

• They make you take them really, REALLY EARLY.
• Like practically 8 o'clock!
• Someone far less qualified than me is guiding them.
• I miss them terribly. (well not for like the first couple of weeks!)

Goodbye summer. You were really good to us this year.

She Has Been Fined For Several Rubber Ducky's Rights Violations

I think most parents would agree that one of our main jobs in parenting is to create self-sufficient people out of those cute little balls of wrinkled skin they place in our arms at the hospital. And if we can just get them to clean-up after their own mistakes, we consider ourselves a huge success.

People, let me just show you what success looks like: (WARNING: this photo is not for the faint at heart. But if it does bother you, try to let it just roll off you. Like water off a duck's back.)

Success, it ain't always pretty!

She was trying to clean-up after she had another 'accident'. The clean-up after her "clean-up" took a VERY long time. And I'm not sure all the anti-bacterial soap and scalding hot water in the world would make me or the ducks feel completely clean. (Is it safe to bathe in Clorox?)



And don't be fooled by those sweet little fuchsia smiles. They are crying on the inside. And somewhere out there, a big, pink, momma ducky is grieving for her babies.

iListen

Wordless Wednesday

(PS, she's most likely listening to Toby Mac ... or rather Tru Dog ... I think she has a bit of a crush.)

(PPS, what about this picture makes you smile more, the iPod in the ears, or the Don King hair? Personally, it's a toss up for me.)

(PPPS, I'm not very Wordless on this Wednesday, am I?)

Daddy's Little Girl

Monday's at 3:30 ... Guitar Lesson's

What I Did On My Summer Vacation (An Essay)

What I Did On My Summer Vacation
By Addie
8/2/08

On my Summer vacation I spent many, MANY hours watching each and every episode of the tv show Lost from seasons One through Four.

The End.

While it makes for an exceedingly short essay, I think we can all agree that it was a very productive summer. To redeem myself (and my time) somewhat, let me clarify that all of those episodes were watched on my laptop. Which means that due to the laptop's portable nature, approximately 3 episodes were enjoyed while folding laundry and four were watched in the kitchen while cleaning up after the kids went to bed. So I really only sat on my toockus for 76 of the remaining episodes. Productive summer indeed. And I think I can safely say that 315 minutes of that time was Uber productive. (7 epsidoes x 45 minutes each = 315 total minutes. See kids, you will use all of those math lessons later on in life!)

Alright, I'll admit that besides becoming a Lostie, I've done I've accomplished I'm desperately hoping to finish one other project this summer.

Potty Training.

If you've been through this disgusting soul shredding unique process you fully understand. If not, there is very little I can tell you to prepare you for what lies ahead. The one positive I can say, after having experienced this great joy three times now, is that you can learn a lot of Life lessons while mucking (and I do mean mucking) through it.

So in order to bring some beauty out of my ashes, I'd like to share with you a few of the lessons I've learned that are not only true with potty training, but are also true in life:

1. Success comes from failure. (At least that's what I keep telling myself. And as it stands now, we're about due from some HUGE success!)
2. You're hands have to get dirty if you want to get anything done.
3. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. (As in go ahead and leave the house in underwear, but bring along plenty of extra's.)
   
4. Take Mary Poppins advice: "A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down." In other words take time to have a little fun in the process.
5. Don't take what seems to be the easy way, it's almost always the longer more difficult route. (I helped pay the salaries of the Hugg!es Pu11-up$ department for almost an entire year my first time around six years ago. Let's just say a year is a really long time to be potty training!)
6. Smile and the world smiles with you. Strike a 'Vogue' pose and they are forced take your picture.
7. Sometimes sitting in your own mess is the best lesson of all.
8. A Good covering is the best investment. (I like these for potty training and this for life.)
9. If the road gets rough, don't underestimate the rejuvinating power of a nap.


10. Keep a lot of anti-bacterial soap stocked around the house ... you're gonna need it. (This one is not so much a life lesson, but I felt the need for a well rounded list of 10.)