Mother's Day Retrospective

Mother's Day was delightful because...

• I enjoyed homemade blueberry pancakes -- made by my wonderful husband -- with him and the kids.


• We went to church and heard a really great message about being a mom.


• We returned home and worked on a few projects (that I wanted to do, as opposed to having to do) with Jeff.


• I went for a much-needed run with Bobby in the stroller.


• We picked out flowers for the pots on the front porch.


• I was treated to grilled steaks for dinner, as well as having the company of Jenny, James, Ethan and Chloe.


• Jeff made ice cream sundaes for dessert. Yes, even a cherry on top.


• I got to speak with my mom and wish her a Happy Mother's Day.


• I took time to acknowledge and appreciate the honor I have to be a mom to Tyler, Kate, Jack, Charlie, Sam and Bobby.

Loving it

Ever since he was a little tyke, Sam (9) has never been able to keep a secret, maintain a surprise or wait to give a gift. He is much like me, when it comes to gift-giving: I want to give it immediately because I want to make that person happy immediately. This character trait of his always makes his older brothers roll their eyes and complain that “Sam can’t keep a surprise.”
Each year, when kids work hard on handmade gift projects in school, it never fails that Sam can’t wait for the holiday or celebration itself (be it Christmas, Valentine’s Day or Mother’s day) to give the gift he made. So, it came as no surprise when, yesterday, upon getting home from work I saw Sam leap up and rummage through his school bag. He handed me a small card reading, “To: Mom, From: Sam” on the front. Inside he wrote something about “Butler Blue II” (the Butler Bulldog mascot). Then he pulled out a crumpled, white paper bag and gave me this:

Needless to say, I love it.
In case you can’t see everything written on the porcelain tile, it reads (from top left) “Go Butler,” “Happy Mother’s Day Mom,” “I love you,” “Butler alumnie” and “Joe.” I think it’s all pretty self-explanatory – except for “Joe.” He simply explained that it stands for “coffee.”

“You know, like a ‘cuppa joe,’” he said, smiling from ear to ear.

Again, I love it. I love it because he made it with his own two hands. I love it because he obviously put a lot of thought into putting what he knows about me onto that tile. I love the colors he chose. I love it because I know the time will soon come when he isn’t all about hand-making me a Mother’s Day gift (or hand-making any gift for that matter). I love it because it’s so Sam – it’s the perfect gift from him to me. I love it because after he handed it to me, it was followed by a huge hug and a kiss. I love it because of the extreme look of happiness on his adorable face when I told him, “I love it.”

To all my family members and friends who are moms or who will be celebrating with their moms this weekend… Happy Mother’s Day! I hope your weekend is filled with many moments that make you say, “I love it.”

Pieces...

You would have to be living under a rock somewhere to NOT know it's NCAA March Madness time. And, amazingly so, the Butler Bulldogs have stunned naysayers who chalked up last year's performance of a lifetime to just that -- a once in a lifetime thing. A fluke. Yet here they are again, with their dancin' shoes on in the oh, so Sweet 16. I recently read Butler's Big Dance, written by Butler Professor Susan Neville (whom I may or may not have had as an instructor at school). It is an amazing account of the entire phenomenon that gripped my alma mater, our state, the sport and the nation, as the "unknown" Bulldogs came out of nowhere... and proceeded to fight their way to the top of the heap. When Gordon Hayward's shot missed by three inches (yes,... three inches) the team lost the honor of a national championship. But in the process of losing that, they gained the love and loyalty of, well, everyone, it seems. Duke may have added another trophy to their case, they got the hats and shirts and the confetti rained down on them from high above the court in Lucas Oil Stadium -- but it was Butler that people were talking about. And it's Butler they are still talking about. Who knows what Thursday's game will bring. As much as I'd love for them to post another win, really, making it back to the Sweet 16 is an incredible accomplishment in itself. I love my school, I admire the team and Coach Stevens -- they are a classy bunch of gentlemen -- and I love that they are showing everyone, once again, what down-to-earth, hard-working, academically accomplished students they are.

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This year, students in grades 3, 4 and 5 at the boys' school were required to create books for the Young Author's Conference. I, for one was thrilled. Jack, Charlie and Sam? Meh... not so much. They were enthusiastic about the stories they wanted to write, but when it came down to the writing, well... the weather was getting warmer, the basketball hoop was put up and they suddenly had much more important things to do. However, a requirement is a requirement, and three boys dictated three stories which I typed verbatim. (Which, at times, nearly killed the OCD grammarian in me.) In the end, the boys created some pretty good stories, and they were presented well. Today, Sam told me he was chosen as a representative for the 3rd grade to attend the conference in a few weeks. I was thrilled! I had won the Young Author's Conference at my school in 5th and 6th grades. (You know, back when 6th grade was still in an elementary school and we scratched our lessons onto stone tablets with dinosaur bones.) I clearly remember the grumpy mumbling of classmates when I was chosen the second year in a row. "But sheee went laaaast year!" I simply shrugged. I certainly had nothing to do with the selection process -- I just liked to write stories. I read through the paperwork for the conference today, and felt a little jolt of excitement when I saw that parents are welcome to attend the workshop with their child. Trying my best to sound nonchalant, I said, "Hey, Sam... do you want me to go to the Young Author's Conference with you?" He answered yes, and I proceeded to do a little happy dance in my head.

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I am still on JoyQuest2011. Some days I kind of forget that I need to be "finding the joy," because someone has positioned his or herself in my path, making it imposssssssible to find my sanity, let alone any joy. But I am still trying. Every day, even when I slip and quietly cuss someone out for driving like a maniac, or politely turn away to roll my eyes privately at a person's actions, or even mumble under my breath some choice words to make me "feel better" about the present situation, I'm stopping myself. I immediately say a quick little prayer for forgiveness, then -- you guessed it -- find the joy in the situation. I feel like I'm still deep in training mode, but there are still plenty of days and weeks left to get the hang of it. Breathe deeply... find the joy.

A while back, Lindy had a conversation with her parish priest, in which she said she was “praying for patience” (the topic was kids,… go figure) and the priest told her to stop praying for patience, since the root of that word is Latin for “suffer.” (According to Dictionary.com, Latin, patientia, endurance, from pati “to suffer.”) Instead, he said, she should pray for joy. I loved that idea: Take a seemingly bad situation and try to find the proverbial “silver lining.” Find the joy, indeed.

I think my Lenten journey has been officially renamed, “JoyQuest 2011.” I am going to find the damn joy… even if it kills me. (And you know, the irony has not escaped my notice that here I am bellyaching about kids, worrying about finances and bitching that I have no coffeemaker and people in this world (Japan) have lost their kids, homes and all worldly possessions… including coffeemakers.)

So, with keeping the people in the world who are facing devastation and tragedy in prayer, I am also praying for joy. Praying that each day, when something goes "wrong," or not according to my plan... I take a moment to find the joy and remind myself "my" plan isn't the one that matters. When one of the kids decides to work my last nerve, I need to find joy in that I have kids to work that lone nerve. When someone cuts me off in traffic, I need to find joy in the fact that they didn't hit me doing it. When I struggle to get out of bed in the morning to go to work, I need to find joy in the fact that I have a job. When life gets in the way, keeping me from something on my ever-present, ever-growing "list," I need to find joy in the fact that I did my best today, and (God willing) I will have another day to check something else off the list. When I am faced with a challenge or struggle, I will find joy in the fact that I can close my eyes, say a prayer asking for strength/guidance and I know my prayer will be heard -- and answered in time.

Find the joy.

Do we all remember this little guy? He's the reason for the title of this blog -- his arrival brought me and his daddy right back to square one, as far as kids are concerned. "Five kids are plenty," we agreed. Little did we know, God had another plan in mind. So, on March 1, 2009, we welcomed Robert Edward Cameron into our family. Bobby. On that whirlwind day, I don't think any one of us could even come close to comprehending just how special this child was... and is today. This precious little nugget of a person cemented a union -- a union that brought two families together into one. His family.

March 1, 2009

April 16, 2009

Today, just two days past his second birthday, Bobby continues to brighten every day with his personality, charm and oh-so-cuteness. You've heard people refer to someone as a "joy" or "delight?" I now know exactly what they mean. Bobby brings so much love, such pure joy to his parents and siblings. He is funny and loves to laugh. His vocabulary is amazing, and it grows leaps and bounds every day. He is the love of our lives right now, adding to the love that brought us all together.

March 1, 2010 Having lunch and a sundae with Daddy and Mommy.

March 1, 2010

Happy 2nd Birthday, Precious Boy. You are loved more than you will ever know, Bobby, and you make our family complete. We love you!

Changes

"Nothing fits."

This was what I heard as I stood toe-to-toe with Jack and Charlie last night, as they picked out clothes for the next morning.

"Nothing?" I asked, sure they were just exaggerating.
"No. Nothing," they replied.
Still very sure they were stretching the truth, I told them we would fully address the issue tomorrow... which is now today. I can now say, without a doubt, they were telling the truth. We spent the better part of two hours this evening, camped out in their bedroom going through the dresser and closet. We now have several stacks of clothes to donate. This purge leaves them with a pair of khaki cargo pants each and an array of shirts. (Sam, on the other hand, the sole recipient of the hand-me-downs, has most of what he needs, wardrobe-wise, but managed to outgrow all his jeans, too.) So, this weekend? It's a jeans-buying bonanza for the boys.

I discovered today that I -- somewhere in the past few weeks -- gained a few extra pounds. This? I am thoroughly unhappy about. Yep... nothing like getting ready for work in the morning, feeling like a wrapped ham in your clothing. The difference between myself and the boys is that my only option is to get my ass back to the gym and have three miles on the treadmill for lunch every day, rather than go out and have myself a shopping spree. And, yes, I started today.

Funny how the kids outgrowing some clothing can make you stop and think... they're growing up. Sure, it's happening every day, but we all get busy and don't see it. Lately I've been noticing small changes in the boys' behavior -- small steps toward a bit more maturity, a smidge more compassion here and there, and I realize that Sam at 9 and Jack & Charlie coming up on 12 are really growing up. Don't get me wrong -- I still get to hear all the petty bickering and arguing. (Oh, how I love the bickering and arguing!) But to realize there are no more fist-fights between them, or chasing each other down, only to catch and begin the pummelling... well, that's just an awesome feeling. I remember fully being in the midst of that behavior several years ago, wondering just when the hell all the fighting would end, and if I'd make it through to that point. "It has to stop sometime," I'd think, weary from playing referee and, literally, pulling them off each other. And now we've made it. I also noticed lately that those boys are really funny. Yes, once in a while they do manage to take a break from the typical "bathroom humor" that boys their age find absolutely hysterical, and say something witty or sarcastic. It still catches me off guard, but it never ceases to make me laugh. Really laugh. Especially Sam.

Change abounds in our house. Bobby just turned two yesterday. Two years old! And talk about a kid who has personality and a sense of humor? I guess that's what happens when your family is as big as an audience, and you are growing up feeling comfortable "performing." Things will change later this year for Tyler and Kate, as well. Tyler will begin his sophomore year of college on Purdue's main campus; something he is desperately happy to have happen. Kate will begin her senior year of high school at the end of the summer -- and so begins all the "last times" of her high school career. At the same time, as she begins preparing for college admissions (another for Purdue!) it marks all the "firsts" as a college student. Such wonderful times, full of excitement.

My hope is that with all the hustle and bustle of life, amidst all the changes, growth spurts and outgrown jeans... Jeff and I manage to stop and take notice. I don't want a single minute of this crazy life of ours to pass us by without pausing... letting the events sink in and giving us wonderful memories. We may periodically find ourselves in a place where "nothing fits," but with a little rearrangement and a little adjustment, we'll once again find ourselves comfortable.

I'd like to say I have a good reason for not posting for over two months... but, really, blaming the holidays and the post-holiday slump is so played out. And it isn't like I haven't had some really great material for blog posts, and plenty of photos to accompany them. It's just that when the idea hits, it's nowhere near a good time to post. And by the end of most evenings at my house, the last thing I find myself wanting is to sit at the computer and thrill all eight followers with the funny things that happened that day. (And I'm sure calling out eight followers is strectching things at this point.)

Here's the nutshell version of the past 8-10 weeks:

Ahem. Thanksgiving came and went without much drama or fanfare... I think. We prepped for Christmas and had loads of fun at James & Jenny's one evening, where the kids got their Betty Crocker on, decorating cookies and making Christmas "trees" out of inverted sugar cones, green frosting and a variety of candies.

Closer to the Big Day, we embarked on our annual trek to Pokagon State Park for an evening of toboganning. The weather couldn't have cooperated more, and we had a great time hurtling down an ice-covered run at speeds in the 30mph range. Two days later, we once again packed up the family cars (since we don't all fit in the van), and headed north to Michigan -- Boyne Mtn., to be exact, for a few days of skiing and snowboarding. We even had passes to the on-site waterpark, which we visited Tuesday night. This is when Jack found himself with an early Christmas present, after whacking his head on a cross-bar as he entered a water slide -- six tidy stitches in the middle of his forehead, courtesy of the Northern Michigan Regional Hospital.

I think I may have clinched the Mother of the Year award on our final night, when I took Jack, Charlie and Sam to return their snowboards and boots -- realizing I had forgotten to bring their regular snow boots. The boys had to walk across the resort, to the parking lot in... socks. This? They found HI-LARIOUS. Of course, we had to stop for a hot cocoa at Kilwin's candy shop, just to ensure the maximum number of people fell witness to my awesome forgetfulness.

Christmas was a lovely time, and we had a blast watching Bobby open gifts. Or, rather, open a gift and enjoy playing for a while, before we all but insisted he open another. In the time since the holidays, we have been dumped on with snow and ice, passed a pesky fever virus around to each other and froze ourselves silly with sub-zero temperatures. Good times, my friends. Good. Times. Oh, and also? I managed to get out of Girl Scout cookie selling season, keeping my total number of boxes under double-digits. Quite a feat, when you have a good friend who is not only the mom of an adorable, eight-year-old Brownie, but a master "enabler."

I also recently learned to knit. Currently working on a scarf (which Sam has already claimed for his own) that is, admittedly, full of flaws -- but also brimming with love. I have always wanted to learn to knit, and I am so excited to actually be making something. And it's recognizable.

I think that covers most of the high points of the recent weeks. I still have a boat-load of photos to share, so I will work on a "Photo Album" of sorts to share a few more tidbits of our crazy life.