Overly Blessed

Sometimes I do not know if I do the "right" things in life...I usually do what I think is best but is that right?  Life does not come with a book of paths to follow, although the Bible is a good reference tool.  So, today on Thanksgiving, I am looking around my brother-in-laws home at all of my family and extended family members.  I feel very blessed.  Although lately, I have felt overly blessed. 

After I was done with work for the day, I returned home and showered.  I am thankful that I have a great job with job security.  I changed into a brand new sweater (that I had bought to wear at Thanksgiving,) pulled on my make-my-butt-look-smaller jeans, switched my purses and changed into my expensive shoes.  I grabbed my $4 a loaf bread and my car keys.

 Then the guilt set in... I shook it off and ran out the door with my husband on my arm. 

We arrived at Caleb's, my brother-in-laws, and most of the family was already settled.  The tables were crowded with many dishes of foods, several different kinds of beverages, and lots of chit chatting about who did what.  The meal was by far one of the best meals that I have eaten.  But, I started to feel a little guilty, again---all of this over abundance of food. 

We ate on fancy dishes, spilling on brand new tables cloths that were purchased just for this occasion, and passed around beautiful serving dishes with shiny silver spoons.  The tables were decorated with crystal votives and fall colored candles.  Would the evening have been just as special with out all of the worldly goods?  If we had only bread and water, eating out of a trough...would we have all been as happy? 

Laughter filled the room, children playing cars on the floor, a little white dog sniffing all of the guests.  The entire evening I felt guilty because I feel overly blessed.  How would I feel if I lost all of our possessions?  These worldly goods are not going to get me any closer to heaven, then why have them.  Why not vow to live more simply, without fancy cars, expensive cloths, and a nice house?  Is there a difference between having possessions and being possessed by your possessions?

The questions that I have about being overly blessed come from a movie that I watched called The Book of Eli.  It is about the aftermath of the end of the world.  It was violent, very violent, and I do not like violent movies.  But, this movie struck a cord because the people had nothing.  NOTHING.  Water was the most valuable commodity.  They would kill over shampoo.  And, the most precious valuable on earth...the Bible. 

Jesus and his disciples were simple people, carpenters and tradesmen, living life on the bare minimum.  Buddha was a simple and ordinary person, just trying to teach and help people.  Most religions put emphasis on being humble, having humility, maintaining virtue, and so on.  No religion or belief system emphasizes having piles of money or expensive belongings, at least no religion that I feel is worth following.  So, this holiday season I am trying to figure out how to live life more simply.  Not just to live simply, but to give to those who are less fortunate or just need help. I do not want to live in a hut and stare at my belly button all day, but I do think that our family needs some sort of simplicity intervention (this coming on the heels of buying an expensive new camera...I will start living more simply tomorrow.) 

So, instead of giving the boys big fancy presents, I have decided to donate to children who have daily struggles for things that we take for granted.  (They will still get a little something to open up, but I am going to try to keep it minimal.)  I am also going to encourage any of our family members who read this blog to do the same thing.

“Three Rules of Work: Out of clutter find simplicity; From discord find harmony; In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.” --Albert Einstein

23 And Jesus looked round about, and saith unto his disciples, How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God! 24 And the disciples were astonished at his words. But Jesus answereth again, and saith unto them, Children, how hard is it for them that trust in riches to enter into the kingdom of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.---Matthew 10:23-25

Insanity

I temporarily went insane and decided that since I worked a stretch of shifts at the hospital, I would save our laundry until I had a day off.  Typically, when I work a stretch of shifts, I make an attempt to keep up the laundry.  But, this time I had two little voices inside my head (a tall blonde and a slender brunette---you know who you are) saying something like this--- "I only do laundry one day a week...Just do it on Monday."  It sounded so simple.

The laundry was not touched (besides throwing the dirty clothes in the hampers and spot cleaning some items of clothing of the boys') from Thursday until Monday.  This is not even counted as an entire week.  On Monday, I spent the ENTIRE day doing laundry.  Many, Many loads of laundry.  I am not going to tell you how many loads but it was in the double digits. Mountains of laundry.  Sheets, blankets, towels, greasy work clothes, stained jeans, dress clothes from Thanksgiving, scrubs, scrubs, and more scrubs...never ending.

The first half of laundry.

My husband already thinks that I am insane for insisting on washing all of the bed linens once a week.  I have taken Microbiology, I know what lives in our beds.  Not to mention, two boys who sweat and drool all over their pillows and sheets. 

Monday evening when my husband was driving home from work he called me, "What did you do today?"

"Laundry," I responded.

"What else did you do?"

Sigh..."Just laundry."

So, now that I am back in my right mind, I will continue with my daily laundry routine. 

This quote is for you Monday launderers:

“I believe you should live each day as if it is your last, which is why I don't have any clean laundry, because, come on, who wants to wash clothes on the last day of their life?”- Author Unknown

"Marriage is the most expensive way for the average man to get his laundry done"-  Burt Reynolds

Mostly Boys

My entire world revolves around boy "things."  Hunting, four-wheeling, muscle cars, and so on.  Early on, I realized that I needed to Tom-boy-up or I was going to get left behind.  So, in light of this revelation, I began trying my hardest to enjoy boyish hobbies.

For our family vacation this year we went four-wheeling in northern Minnesota.  There was no shopping or doing girly things what-so-ever.  I never bothered bringing it up because I would be out voted 3 to 1.  So, each day we packed lunches and snacks and then set off on an adventure deep into national parks.  It was amazing.  We were greeted with multiple deer and birds---but much to our boys disappointment, no bears. 

Aaron waiting patiently on the 4-wheeler

Noah feeding ducks at Long Lake in Northern MN



Abram ready to go ridin'!

Even when my friends and I get together for "play dates" there is an over abundance of testosterone.  There usually are around 10 children playing together and only one of the children is a girl, little Ava.  So, with that much testosterone in a small space (and at least three over-achieving mothers) there is lots of energy, some bickering over toys, and an occasional child that gets bitten (I never thought my youngest child would turn out to be a biter---luckily that issue is resolved!)

Momma Kelly helping Carsen make a turkey out of his hand.

The girls are grossly outnumbered.

Carsen and Jack playing with cars and other boy toys.
Unfortunately, we have no girl toys.

Our cat, Snoopy Socks, had a terrible headache after all of the children left (I kid you not, when all was quiet she jumped up into "her chair" and layed down with her paws over her eyes.)

This is the epitome of boys and girls. 

 

To put the world in order, we must first put the nation in order; to put the nation in order, we must put the family in order; to put the family in order, we must cultivate our personal life; and to cultivate our personal life, we must first set our hearts right. - Isaiah (Ch. WWWVIII V.1)

Family Photo Shoot

I am not a model and have never claimed to be.  Just because I have the height of a run way model does not mean that I am graceful or elegant.  Walking in high heel shoes makes me look like I am some sort of a circus freak (but I continue purchasing high heels with the hopes of being able to walk in them; then I am sadly disappointed when I have to find different homes for the shoes because they are on the brink of causing my demise.)  In addition to being a klutz, I have a pelvis that could birth triplets.  So, all of that added up = not being photogenic.  

One of my goals every year is to get a immediate family picture.  This is something that I hope to accomplish for the rest of my life.  Someday, hopefully, our family picture will include daughter-in-laws and grandchildren.

Our family is lucky enough to have a friend who dabbles in photography.  And, she is patient enough to deal with our wild boys.  Her name is Cassie and she is a miracle worker.

So, on a bitterly cold day we bundled up in our jackets, hats, mittens and set out in an attempt to capture our family in a photo (if that is possible.)  We loaded up in a white Suburban and were off on an adventure armed with suckers (thanks to our friend) and a camera.  The wind was wicked but we were determined to get an outdoor photo on an abandoned gravel road and at my husband's family farm. 

Miraculously, Cassie was talented enough to get many wonderful photos.  When I was flipping threw over 180 pics, I had a difficult time choosing.  How do you choose?  Each photo was unique in its own way.  None of our family was ever looking in the same direction or smiling at the same time or positioned correctly.  We, including myself, were not very compliant.  Abram would not sit still and Noah had an attack of the giggles.  Eventually, I was able to narrow 188 pics down to 30 pics and then 20. 

Then it was time to photo edit them.  I touched up the green buggers, strands of snot, and fly away hairs.  Carefully, I looked at the lighting and coloring and attempted to sharpen Abram's images that were a little blurry from all of his movement.  Finally, a couple of hours later....they were complete.  Our family photos were complete.  Yes!  Press Save...Click....

Oh crap...I pressed the wrong button... Not Delete.... Oh no.

My computer would not let me retrieve them.  Why, oh why, would my computer not let me retrieve them.  I dropped my head down on the desk next to the darn computer.  Time to start over. 

I went through all of the photos again.  Photo edited again.  Took all of the buggers, strands of snot, and fly away hairs out, again. Adjusted some of the lighting and coloring, again.  Sharpened Abram's images, again.

Finally, they were complete.  It was totally worth all of the work---and extra work.  We are blessed enough to have beautiful family pics that will last us for the rest of our lives.  These pics are completely priceless to me, and they only cost me giving Cassie one of the high heeled pairs of shoes that almost killed me.

"Families are like fudge, mostly sweet with a few nuts"- Author Unknown.

Abrams Journey

Someone requested that I write a little post about my youngest son, Abram, and his journey.  I have been having a hard time with his "problems" lately. So, I agreed to do it because I think that it could help my mental health as well as meet this persons request.  So, here is a little peek into Abram's journey....

Oh, where do I begin?  Abram was born at 36 weeks in a small town hospital.  He had a few breathing issues and was then transferred to the NICU at a hospital that could better manage his breathing.  He spent 9 days at this hospital and then we transferred him to an Intensive Care Nursery that was a little closer to home.  He was diagnosed with Ehlers Donlos Syndrome shortly after his birth (but our insurance company would not pay for that diagnosis---so generically he is diagnosed with hypotonia.)  We were blessed enough to bring him home, which I will be forever thankful for.  He had a regimen of tube feedings and medications and doctor appts.  He has been through physical therapy and occupational therapy.  Within the first two years of his life he had two surgeries and was in five different hospitals (I have the grey hair to prove it.)



Abram in an Intensive Care Nursery a couple of weeks after he was born.
When he saw this pic a couple of weeks ago, he asked, "Am I dead in this picture?"




Abram at six months old, he had no muscle tone.  He was floppy like a rag doll.


He has always progressed well, very rarely regressing.  But, he will always have physical issues.  For instance, he has scoliosis (which in my opinion is due to having hypotonia) and has to where a back brace.

Abram's back brace is called a TLSO.  Lately, it is his arch nemesis.


He can run with the boys, but has a hard time keeping up, getting tired easily.  Those who are closest to him, know what he is capable of.  Our family has kept him very close, never really going to daycare or being with strangers.  So, when he started preschool he had a difficult time---emotionally as well as physically.  That was my fault, I admit it.  I should have better prepared him for this huge transition. 

First day of preschool, it was a grim day.

Parent-teacher conferences rolled around, and his teacher tip-toed around the issue of his disability.  She is an amazing teacher, and I could tell she was very nervous.  "Don't be nervous.  Just tell us what you think he needs and we will do our best to meet in the middle," I told her, my husband by my side rolling his eyes. I could tell he was thinking "Oh crap, here she goes..." He gets embarrassed when I get a little bucky with people, but I am Abram's advocate and I will do what is best for my son.  It does not matter what the neurologist thought (whom I fired) or what the geneticist thought (I also fired her) because my son is not, nor will I ever allow him to be, a science experiment.  Sitting in numerous doctors offices, having complete strangers examine and oogle over my little boy has taught me that.

Surprisingly, I really valued what the teacher thought.  The look in her eyes told me she really cares about my son.  He is not a statistic to her.  He is her preschooler and she is advocating for him.  Abram will have struggles for the rest of his life.  But, he is very fortunate to be able to do the things that he can.  He has worked very hard for his accomplishments, nothing has been handed to him.

It is easy to make a quick judgement or an unintentionally rude comment about someone who is "different."  I have learned that people do not think before speaking (example:  someone who I love dearly, told me that my son looked "retarded" when he was little---she clearly did not think prior to speaking.)  Please think of little Abram and his journey to reach four years if unkind thoughts drift into your head or out your lips about someone who is different.  Then, say a quick prayer for them, because they need all of the help that they can get. 

Noah has always helped to guide his little brother.  He is a vital part of Abram's life.

"Kindness is the language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see"---Mark Twain

Sometimes, It's the Little Things

Tuesday....well....Tuesday is typically a hectic day.  Last Tuesday was exceptionally hectic.  Between a quick trip to St.Cloud with my sister-in-law and her two-year-old, piano lessons, dinner at my moms, parent-teacher conferences, homework, bathtime, and bedtime, I was exhausted by eight o'clock. 

After my boys were snuggled in bed together (yes, they still sleep in a twin bed together---it is completely their decision) I decided to take a quick shower and then hit the hay myself.  The shower was just what I needed to relax and unwind.  I wrapped myself in my fluffy robe, towel dried my hair, and proceeded to go upstairs when something stopped me. 

Hmmm.... a peculiar light was coming from outside of our dining room window.  A light that I had never seen before.  Could it be...???

Then I knew and I was filled with excitement.  You see, for as long as I can remember, I have wanted Christmas lights on our house.  My father said that we "could not afford the lights and the extra electricity," so I admired the neighbors Christmas lights.  We used to drive around our small town and admire everyone elses Christmas lights.

When Aaron and I first moved into our house, I wanted Christmas lights.  My husband said the same thing that my father said and threw in some B.S. about "loving mother earth" (so says my die-hard Republican husband.) 

So, on Tuesday, when I saw the light shining in our dining room window my heart filled with excitement.  "Christmas lights," I whispered to myself and ran out to the porch.  I found my husband quietly hanging the simple, white lights on our porch with care, hoping to surprise me.

Notice the butt cleavage---Yes this is the man I fell madly in love with

Sometimes, it is the little things that matter.  The simple "I love you" from my children.  The "Thank you" from family and friends.  My husband holding my hand when we are going somewhere.  Individually wrapped snacks that make life a little easier.  Toilet paper, what would we do without toilet paper, need I say more?  And, of course, a surprise from my husband that fulfilled one of my life's dreams.

"It is always the simple things that change our lives.  And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen.  Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so.  You feel like running, but life is on a stroll.  This is how God does things."--Donald Miller



Noah's Secret

(This was taken off of my blog by accident, so I am re-adding it:)

As I am busy around the house doing all sorts of mommy things, I feel a presence by my side.  It is Noah.  My dear sweet child.  Right away, I notice that he has a certain glimmer in his eye.  I can't quite put my finger on it, but it is definitely there.  Something has changed with him. 

"We need to practice piano," I say as I am trying to figure out what is different about him.

"Ok," and we head off to the family room. 

Sitting on the couch listening to him play piano is one of my favorite things to do.  Nothing tops that, nothing.  It is like the angels are singing from heaven above.  He has accomplished so much in the last year and grown so much as a person, it is truly amazing. 

After he finishes playing his last song on the piano, he plops down next to me on the couch.  Fidgeting his fingers he hesitantly says, "Mom, can I tell you a secret?" 

"Of course, what is it?"

"Well, you can't tell anyone.  But.... I am in love.  Really in love.  Like...boyfriend-girlfriend in love..."

OMG, what do I say?  What do I do?  In a way I am excited for him, that he can experience love.  That he cares so much for this girl (who is in his class---he has loved her since preschool) that he can say he loves her.  A first love is always exciting, right?  But, on the other hand, he is ONLY EIGHT YEARS OLD!  He is not allowed to date until he is at least thirty.  What does a mom do?

So, do we try to guide him through this or do we squash it like a hairy spider?  Well, I decided to try to help guide him through this.  We have not been through the birds and bees yet, and I do not want to go there today (that is a whole different blog.)  Lucky for me, the phone rang and it was my mother-in-law.  She loves to talk on the phone, so we talked for about a half an hour.  By the time I hung up the phone, Noah had lost interest in our previous conversation. 

I have never brought up the "I am in love subject" again, but I know that it will surface sooner or later. 

A picture Noah drew of himself and his first love.

In addition, he swore me to secrecy.  We pinky swore that I would not tell anyone.  Hopefully he will not find out about my blog until he gets older- so if anyone reads this, pretty please do not say anything to Noah.