Enjoyment

We're in smack in the heart of summer vacation, and I couldn't be happier.  Many events lately have really reminded me that I have such a short time to hang out with my precious boy, and that I need to take advantage of every minute we have together. (There's soon going to be another blog about this!)

Although we haven't had weeks and weeks off together, we've filled our days completely up and are making new memories every day.  I cherish this time we have together, just hanging out,blowing bubbles, talking, playing with play-doh, going on walks, riding bikes, and watching TV.  I know that this time is precious, and he's only going to be little for a short, short while.

The other day, Dave, Reilly and I were running some errands when we happened upon a park in Elkhart.  Yep, it was steaming hot.  Yep, we were tired.  Yep, we wanted to be in the air-conditioning.  But Reilly saw a park.  And he wanted to stop.  So we did.  I have come to love these unexpected stops.  And I'm so thankful we had the camera with us.

After all, he's only going to be little once.  This is enjoyment in the purest form.

 It's important to search for the most "perfect" rock to throw...

 "Really?  I can throw it and no one will get mad?"

 And it's off...

 "Watch me, dad!"

 He was so excited he was able to put his hands in the water!

 "We've got to find the perfect one!"

All that throwing made Rei tired...daddy to the rescue!

I Shouldn't Be Suprised...He Is My Kid Afterall.

I wake up every morning to this amazing, sweet little voice, saying over and over, "Mom, I wake now.  Mom, I wake now.  Mom, where you at?  I wake now."  It's far better than the sound of any other kind of alarm clock.  And before I ever rush out of bed, I take a few seconds to thank God that the little voice is calling me.  It's calling me, and no one else.

If being a mommy has taught me anything, it's that I never, ever, never, I mean NEVER EVER know what is going to happen 5 minutes from now when my little man is with me.  I can have something in mind.  I can have a plan.  It rarely plays out in real life how I've pictured it in my head.  I have learned to expect the unexpected.  And I wouldn't change a thing!  Not a single thing.

So it's time to start this potty training business.  We've been talking about it for a while now with my very "I like to do things my very own way and will let you know when I'm ready" child.  We've been exploring the potty.  We've been flushing the potty.  We even practice opening and closing the lid and standing on it to brush our teeth.  We're pretty much potty experts.  Except when it comes to sitting on the potty and making things happen.

 Up until Monday, every time we tried sitting on it, it was a horrific, neighbors calling, people showing up at the door to find out why my poor child was screaming kind of experience.  Purely joyful, really.  The stuff memories are made of.

But Monday was different.  We were sitting in the living room and he grabbed my hand and said "Go potty, Mommy."  I hesitantly looked at him.  We've done it before.  We get close and the panic sets in.  I wasn't sure if this was going to be the same, or different.  It proved to be different.  He stood still while we de-pants and sat down like a champ.  We even got results.

Elated was not the right word.  We were dancing, singing, high-fiving, celebrating and having a grand ol' time.  We told him he could have a treat--he chose skittles (not a surprise!) and we were about to be big boy potty pros.

Ok...turns out big boy potty pros is a really strong title.  After all, it had only been one time.  Turns out, we're right back to the "avoid the big boy potty at all costs" frame of mind. 

Until...

Just today, we sat on the potty again, with little fear and anxiety.  He seemed to be okay with it.  We had the skittles ready and we were good to go.  We sat and sang songs, chatted, read a book and nothing.  Not even a dribble.  But, we felt it was a pretty good effort, so we were still going to let him have a treat.  I got his skittles ready, and he says, "No thanks, Mom.  I have boccli (broccoli.)"  Um...

Turns out we don't have any broccoli.  FAN-flippin-TASTIC!

Really, broccoli?  You may remember another broccoli story...we've had a complete 180 since then, and it turns out my son will pretty much do anything for broccoli.  Including sitting on the potty.  For a long time.

So...it turns out, that for today, (and maybe just for today only), broccoli seems to be the secret weapon to becoming a big boy potty pro.  Reilly will sit on the potty with no worries forever, as long as he can eat broccoli while he's there.

Now...I'm going to scour the sale ads for a produce sale...

A Winning Weekend!

I love weekends.  I love weekends with prizes even more.

For the past couple of years, my amazing sisters and sister's mother in law have organized a bus trip to Ohio to visit the Longaberger Homestead.  All three of them are consultants for the company, so if you're in the market for a basket, I can get that handled.  (Yep, all those puns were intended!)  They have been conscious of when the Homestead does their "Spring Fling" weekends, which is sort of like their grand opening for the season, so that we can enjoy more winning opportunities!  This year was no different!

On Friday morning at 6:00 am, 17 ladies and a bus driver named Paul loaded up the Cardinal, hunkered down for the trip and hit the road.  Let the winning begin!

Not far into the trip, the games began.  Kim, Keely and Bonnie do an outstanding job at planning and executing such a great trip, you don't even realize that you're riding around in a diesel smelling, back and forth rocking, sick in the stomach causing big ol' bus.  The 5.5 hours fly by because you're so busy playing games and visiting with friends.

On the bus ride there, we were able to play two rounds of Memory--you got to keep what you uncovered in the memory game. Everything on the board was a product from Longaberger.  Hello!!!!  Hooray!  It turns out my memory is really just as bad as I thought it was, so I wasn't the first to make a match.  Or the second.  Or the third.  Or even the fourth.  I think I was more like the 15th or so.  But I still won.  TWICE, even.

Prize 1:  A wallet, cell phone case and make up bag all in the Timeless Fabric.(A new favorite!)

Prize 2: A magazine basket, complete with a liner.  Yep, you read that right.  A MAGAZINE basket.

Next game...BINGO!  Turns out, all my practice at the stinky BINGO hall didn't prove to help me.  AT ALL.  Again...I have no bragging rights about getting the first BINGO, or the second, or the fourth.  More like the 15th.  Again.  But, I still won. 

Prize 3: An 8 x 8 chocolate baker  (later traded for a sage color!)  Hooray for making a casserole!

Moving on down the road, another hour, another game!  Yes!!!  The next game we played was the stealing game.  Everyone got an envelope that was numbered.  The person with #1 had to open their envelope and read the slip of paper on the inside.  Then #2 could choose to steal that item, or open their own envelope.  #3 got to see what #'s 1 & 2 had, steal one of those, or open their envelope, etc.  After a bit of stealing, begging not be stolen from and negotiations, everyone got another prize.  Longaberger, of course!

Prize #4: An ivory handled baker.  

The bus was just about to the Homestead by then, and my bag was filled with papers or prizes to be redeemed at the hotel!  Bring on the games sponsored by the company!  I was just getting into the groove of winning and I wasn't about to be done!

There were a couple of things going on that we had to do right when we got off the bus.  We had to go to the Welcome Center to put our names in for an hourly door prize drawing, and pick up a sheet for the scavenger hunt that was taking place all around the grounds.  Prizes would be drawn at 4:00.

We had arrived in time to participate in the first "Great Homestead Race" which was an opportunity to run around the "At Home" building (the biggest shopping building the company has) and solve clues to find specific items.  Unfortunately, no one from our bus had any of the four winning tickets they called.  Rats!  We stayed to be cheerleaders and watch people huff and puff after they were done running the race.

We were able to go outside and play basketball and the pottery toss for another chance to win prizes.  Turns out, I'm not so good at either of those either.  I did win some extra tickets for the door prize drawing, but no instant prizes.

Next up, time for "Dash for Baskets."  Oh yes, we were ready to dash.  The Longaberger employees set up 4 tables around a gazebo, each with a sidewalk sticking straight out from it.  Four lucky people are picked (well, their tickets had to match the winning number!) to start out at the end of the sidewalk and run up to the table and grab as many baskets as they could in 45 seconds, and get them successfully back across the sidewalk line. You can take as many trips as needed, but only those across the line at the end of the 45 seconds were yours to keep.  Let the praying begin!  We wanted to win.

First round of this game, first number...none of ours matched.  Second number, same.  Third number....WE HAVE A WINNER.  Our step mom's sister from Canada, who didn't previously own any baskets, had the winning ticket.  We were so excited.  After some coaching and stacking advice, she was ready to dash!  She ran like a cheetah and cleared her table!  0-32 baskets in 45 seconds.  YES!   We're on a roll!

Fortunately for us, not everyone was cheetah like as our very own Janice, and some participants didn't clear their tables.  With all of the leftover baskets, they began calling additional numbers.  If your number was called, you got to go pick from the leftovers.   They called my ticket.  Oh yes they did!  They called others from our bus, too!

Prize #5: Wastebasket--Longaberger, of course!

It was almost time for another "Great Homestead Race."  We made our way into the building and were relaxing in the "purchased air" waiting for our winning numbers to be called again.  First number...not us.  Second number...Marilyn, who was Janice's (see previous Dash for Baskets winner) friend had the winning ticket.  In a moment of panic, she throws her ticket at me and says, "You do it."  Clearly, she wasn't of sound mind.  Do I look like I am a racer?  A runner? A fast walker, even?  She really should have chosen Keely.  She would have had a chance.  However, in my excitement of having another winner from our bus, I jump up like it's my job and go sign the waiver.  I had to sign a waiver.  That should have been my first clue.  A waiver.  As in, "I won't sue if I finish this race and I can't walk, breathe, feel my legs or vomit."  One of those kinds of waivers.  But I signed it.

Another person from our bus got called too.  We had this.  Two of us versus two strangers.  We had this.  Except.  We didn't.  Not even really close.  Staying for the previous race came in handy because I already knew what four prizes I had to collect.  I didn't even need to read the clues.  They shout go, we leap off the starting line like a kangaroo and we're off.  We (each of us had a Longaberger employee that "fast walked" with us...we promised not to run on the waiver!) flew up the stairs (and by flew, I mean, huffed and puffed up all 412 steps--OK...it wasn't that many...but really...it's an absurd amount!) to our first stop.  A t-shirt.  Check!  I knew that we also needed a book written by Tami Longaberger that was upstairs, so I told Tony (my handy helper) we'd go there next.  WRONG.  Evidently, I failed to read the small print that said we had to go upstairs and get a prize, then downstairs and get a prize, then repeat the process.  Are you kidding me?  So down we went.  I got distracted by the cheering, headed the wrong way, had to go all the way around the building, accidentally knocked a lady's purse right off her shoulder, tried to stop to say I'm sorry, Tony pushed me forward and told me to keep going until we got to the next prize destination.  Dash bowls.  Check.  And back upstairs we go.  At this point, I'm silently cursing the "You can't sue because you signed the waiver" rule and about to die.  As we were running, someone quick installed about 798 more steps to go up to get back to the book.About this time, I hear the announcer say that the first person had arrived back..turns out he was a marathon runner.  Seriously.  I quickly told Tony there was no need to hurry since we didn't win, but he wasn't having it.  We had to keep going.  Back up the 4,963 steps.  Accomplished...with the help of the railing...book.  Check.  Back down for the last prize...salsa.  Check.  Across the finish line.  We came in second.  We got to keep everything we raced for.  Since I was running for Marilyn, we fought over who got to keep the prizes.  I finally wore her down.  She took the book, salsa and dash bowls.  

Prize # 6: A red Longaberger T-shirt.

Let the huffing, puffing, lungs burning, coughing, sputtering, lay down and pretend to die on the cool tile begin.

I didn't have time to pass out for long though...it was almost time for another round of "Dash for Baskets."  Okay...new plan, I'll just go pass out in the grass.

We headed back out after catching my breath and sat under the tree, waiting for our number to be called to go collect some baskets.  First number...not ours.  Second number...sounds familiar...it's KIM!  As in my sister KIM!  Hooray!  She's been involved in Longaberger for forever and never gotten to win a Dash for Baskets opportunity.  She made it to the gazebo in about 4 hops and was assigned her table.  She had to sign a waiver too.  We went over to cheer her on...and with her cheetah like skills, she too, cleared her table with time to spare.  I really enjoyed the last little hop she made over the finish line for the final time.  It was sort of a "I did it. I don't have any leftovers on my table, so take that" kinda hop!  She made me proud.  We packed her 31 baskets up and headed for dinner.  All in all, the first day I think we had something like 10 winners, out of 17 people.  Oh yea, it was a winning kinda day!  Did I forget to mention that Janice (see the first "Dash for Baskets" winner also won a door prize.  I needed her to rub my head.

Saturday morning dawned bright and early and we were back at the shopping thing by 9:00 am! As we loaded up the bus, we had a basket surprise on our seats.  Everyone was given a basket that fits my 8 x 8 baker just perfectly!  We went downtown Dresden first and spent most of the day down there.  We were back at the Homestead for more games by 2:00 though.  We made it in time to play more basketball and pottery toss.  Turns out the second day didn't improve my skills at all.  More tickets, no instant prizes.  Hmm...some skills to improve is what that tells me.

First round of "Dash for Baskets" was about to begin, so we grabbed our tickets and assumed our position with the hundreds of other people under the shade trees.  First winner...not us.  Second number...called...paused...Kim looks up from her phone, says "Wait. What?  Wait? What?" all while her arms are flailing about.  SHE WON AGAIN.  THE SAME KIM.  FOR THE SECOND TIME.  She got a double dash.  Two in one weekend.  Seriously?  Our entire party went to cheer her on again...but heck, at this point, she was an experienced dasher, and we were simply background noise.  She knew what she was doing.  She had a plan.  She cleared her table.  AGAIN.  No leftovers.  Nothing.  We were proud.  So proud.

Mr. Paul was not thrilled with the amount of boxes that needed to be stored in the underside of the bus.  We just smiled and nodded.  There was still another round of this fun game, and we were hoping to win again!  

Eventually we moved back in for the last "Great Homestead Race" where we were lucky enough to have another winning member from our bus.  We cheered Kim (a different one this time) to a second place finish, and I took a little pride in seeing her breathe heavy, lung pain and drain a water bottle in record time so I wasn't the only one who looked crazy after running the race.

One final "Dash for Baskets" before we left, and our luck had been used up.  Sadly, it was the first game since we had arrived that we didn't have representative in.  A sad note to leave on, but we certainly couldn't complain about the amount of "donations" Longaberger had made the ladies on our bus.

Two more games after we left.  One where we had to write down how much we spent the entire weekend individually, and then guess what we think everyone on the bus spent combined.  I was close, but not close enough.  No prize for me.

The last game wasn't really a game, but more of a gift exchange.  If you wanted to participate, you purchased a $5.00 gift sometime during the shopping extravaganza and wrapped it up.  We played a "Right and Left" game where you passed your prize around and whatever you ended up with at the end of the game was what you got to keep.

Prize # 7: A very cool dish towel with a saying on it.  I sure do wish I could remember the saying.

What an amazing, winning weekend.  That may have been the best $185 I've ever spent!

 

Missing My Mom

Mom--I miss you so very much.  I love you and am so very grateful that you're there to listen each time I want to talk,  you're my protection wherever I am, you're the keeper of Reilly's safety and the angel that keeps us healthy.  I am guessing that Mother's Day in Heaven is one special party...you deserve the best.  Thank you for being my angel.  Thank you for being my role model. Thank you for being my ear to listen.  Thank you for being you.  I miss you more than you'll ever know.  My heart is filled with love for you.

The Very Best Gift Of All

I had an amazing mother.  One that doesn't walk next to me anymore here on Earth, but protects me from above and has me under her wing at all times.  I have so many fond memories of my mom.  If I sit perfectly still and quiet, I can still hear her laughter, still hear her tone when I was in trouble, still picture her perfect face.  I see so much of her in both of my sisters...her facial expressions, her kindness, her gratitude, her "sneaky-party-planning" ways, her joy, her love.  My mom was and will always be the very best role model in my life.

2  1/2 years ago, I was given the greatest gift of all when my little man was placed into my arms for the very first time.  Being a mom is a job like no other.  Payment in hugs and kisses, giggles and "toots" are things I wouldn't exchange for the world.

I'm so very grateful that God entrusted me to be Reilly's mommy.  There is not a day that I forget to be thankful.  There are so many reasons that I have to thank Him every opportunity I get for that little pitter pat of feet that run down the hall to yell "Boo" at me.  To be thankful for the times that I'm in another room, and I hear "Mom, Mom, MOM..." and when I finally answer, I hear, "Oh, Nevmind."  (Never mind) with a silly little smiles on his face.  I'm thankful for the times that I'm trying to sneak in a quick potty visit, and the door flys open and he yells "Ta-da!" I'm thankful for the stalling he does at bed time, asking for more "snugs" (snuggles) because he knows I fall for it every time.  I'm just thankful.  So very thankful for the greatest gift of all.

Teaching...It's My Heart.

I've always known that I wanted to be a teacher.  I knew it from an early age.  There is not a day that I am not thankful that I've chosen this profession.  I love what I do.  L.O.V.E. the lives I get to touch, the families I get to meet, and the memories I get to make.  However, there's also not a day that goes by that my stress level isn't high, my self-doubt isn't present and my energy level isn't drained by 4:30 pm.


In my teaching journey, I've read lots of comments, heard many critics say things about how easy being a teacher is.  Things like,  "Teaching is so easy. You're done by 3:00 each afternoon.  Teachers get 3 months off during the year.  How many other jobs get that luxury?"  Or things like, "All you do is play with kids all day, how hard can that be???"  For those of you that share the same feelings, I invite you to walk a day with me, be my shadow, come experience my days.  It might just change your mind.


I am truly blessed to work at a school that has amazing families, students, co-workers and support teams.  This week of Teacher Appreciation has been wonderful.  Gifts, treats, hugs, emails, so much gratitude.  As much as I love what I do, it's always nice to hear how appreciated you are, and how your work is positively affecting children's lives.


I got this poem from a parent in my email this morning.  I'm not sure I've seen teaching summed up better.

To all of my teacher friends...no matter where you teach, what you do, or what you may hear...you touch children's lives.  I'm honored to work along side of you.



THE CREATION OF THE TEACHER
Author Unknown
The Good Lord was creating teachers. It was His sixth day of 'overtime' and He knew that this was a tremendous responsibility for teachers would touch the lives of so many impressionable young children. An angel appeared to Him and said, "You are taking a long time to figure this one out."
"Yes," said the Lord, " but have you read the specs on this order?"
TEACHER:
…must stand above all students, yet be on their level
... must be able to do 180 things not connected with the subject being taught
... must run on coffee and leftovers,
... must communicate vital knowledge to all students daily and be right most of the time
... must have more time for others than for herself/himself
... must have a smile that can endure through pay cuts, problematic children, and worried parents
... must go on teaching when parents question every move and others are not supportive
... must have 6 pair of hands.
"Six pair of hands, " said the angel, "that's impossible"
"Well, " said the Lord, " it is not the hands that are the problem.  It is the three pairs of eyes that are presenting the most difficulty!"
The angel looked incredulous, " Three pairs of eyes...on a standard model?"
The Lord nodded His head, " One pair can see a student for what he is and not what others have labeled him as. Another pair of eyes is in the back of the teacher's head to see what should not be seen, but what must be known. The eyes in the front are only to look at the child as he/she 'acts out' in order to reflect, " I understand and I still believe in you", without so much as saying a word to the child."
"Lord, " said the angel, " this is a very large project and I think you should work on it tomorrow".
"I can't," said the Lord, " for I have come very close to creating something much like Myself. I have one that comes to work when he/she is sick.....teaches a class of children that do not want to learn....has a special place in his/her heart for children who are not his/her own.....understands the struggles of those who have difficulty....never takes the students for granted..."
The angel looked closely at the model the Lord was creating.
"It is too soft-hearted, " said the angel.
"Yes," said the Lord, " but also tough, You can not imagine what this teacher can endure or do, if necessary".
"Can this teacher think?" asked the angel.
"Not only think," said the Lord,. "but reason and compromise."
The angel came closer to have a better look at the model and ran his finger  over the teacher's cheek.
"Well, Lord, " said the angel, your job looks fine but there is a leak. I told you that you were putting too much into this model.  You can not imagine the stress that will be placed upon the teacher."
The Lord moved in closer and lifted the drop of moisture from the teacher's cheek.  It shone and glistened in the light.
"It is not a leak," He said, "It is a tear."
"A tear? What is that?" asked the angel, "What is a tear for?"
The Lord replied with great thought, " It is for the joy and pride of seeing a child accomplish even the smallest task. It is for the loneliness of children who have a hard time to fit in and it is for compassion for the feelings of their parents. It comes from the pain of not being able to reach some children and the disappointment those children feel in themselves. It comes often when a teacher has been with a class for a year and must say good-bye to those students and get ready to welcome a new class."
"My, " said the angel, " The tear thing is a great idea...You are a genius!!"
The Lord looked somber, "I didn't put it there."

A New Kind Of Perfect

Strong.  Courageous.  Brave.  Loving.  Giving.  Understanding.  Doubtful.  Questioning.  Graceful.  Passionate.  Wonder-filled. 

These are all words that pop into my mind when I think of one of my best friends these days.  That list could go on, and on, and on, and on, and on...

I remember the phone call.  I remember the voice saying, "Hey, guess where I was referred too?  Houser Norberg."  I remember the feeling of excitement take over my body because it was something I knew that she wanted more than anything.  I knew that she wanted to be a mommy.  I knew that she was meant to be a mommy.  I knew she was going to be an awesome mommy.  Her dream was coming true, and I was so very excited for her.

When I was pregnant, I remember thinking 9 months was an incredibly long time to wait to meet the miracle that I was growing inside of me.  However, I'm pretty sure waiting for someone so close to you to become a mom for the first time is an even longer 9 month period.  It seemed like a really long time from that first phone call, to the one that woke me up around 10:30, on Easter night.

I feel like I traveled the pregnancy journey with her pretty closely.  I would call and get updates, we shopped for maternity clothes,  I would answer questions about whether people were deliberately trying to tick her off, of if it was just crazy-out-of-whack hormones...we celebrated the upcoming arrival with a baby shower, we (I'm sure she more than me...but just barely) couldn't wait to meet her new perfect addition to the family.

On April 8th, I got a phone call that said Sophia had been born.  Through my immediate tears of joy, I heard a crack in the voice on the other end, and the next phrase was, "Kori, she has Down Syndrome."  Unexpected--Yep.  Un-do-able--Nope.  My next immediate thought, "Ok, they've got a new kind of perfect."  As a matter of fact, that's how I told Dave about Sophia.  He knew right away that I had gotten the call I had been waiting for.  He knew that a precious gift had been delivered.  When he asked, I said, "She's here.  And she's a new kind of perfect."

That following Monday, I watched my amazing friend run 17 roller coaster rides of emotion.  As soon as I walked into her hospital room I saw the exhaustion, both physical (she'd only been in labor for over 48 hours!), and emotional exhaustion.  It didn't last long though.  I was blessed enough to travel down the hallway with her and see Sophia who was in Nicu (there were some  other complications along the way).  I will never, ever, never, ever, not ever forget watching my dear friend's face change from sadness to love.  From exhaustion to energy.  From doubt to pride. From empty to love filled. She had the look of a mom as soon as she set eyes on that little bundle wrapped in pink.  I watched as she grabbed that little wiggly girl and beam from head to toe.

The roller coaster didn't end for many days afterward.  I was there that same day when I had to watch my friend who had given labor not 24 hours before, kiss her baby goodbye, through tubes and wires, wrapped securely in a carriage that she would travel via helicopter to Riley Children's Hospital in.  I watched as she had to say goodbye to her husband, who would make the journey with Sophia.  I watched her strength.  Strength that I know I wouldn't have had in that moment.  I watched her make the decision that she was going to do everything she needed to do to get to Indianapolis just as soon as she could to hold her daughter close and be with her husband.

I remember hearing her say that day we were at the hospital after Sophia left..."As soon as we can take care of the physical crap, we've got the rest of this."  And boy do they ever.  I know that never in a million dreams did she figure that she was going so be spending 2 weeks in a Ronald McDonald House inside a Children's Hospital 300 miles from home.  Never did she imagine she would be praying her daughter would have a successful surgery when she was just 5 days old.  Never did she imagine she would have to learn how to deal with feeding tubes, incisions and extra chromosomes.  But they've got this.  They've got a new kind of perfect.

Lisa and Jeremy,

I look at the two of you and the journey you're on together with Sophia with all of the admiration in the world.  God gave you a very special gift when he brought Sophia into your lives, one that he knew you would both embrace, love, cherish and treasure.  I have watched, listened and learned from you both over the past 3 weeks more than you'll ever know.

I am so very blessed to call you my friends.    I can't wait to get her together with Reilly for play dates...(is it too soon to talk girlfriend?) I am looking forward to the time you'll call us and ask us to keep Sophia so you can go on a date.

You two are rocks.  Your love for one another is what has gotten you through these hard times.  Keep relying on one another, and please don't be afraid to call...to ask...to borrow anything from us.  We're here for you.  We're traveling this road with you.  We love you and your precious gift!

Love,

Kori