Lost in Laundry

undeserved

2012-02-14T09:47:00.001-06:00

I was Mean Ogre Mom yesterday. She makes an appearance occasionally, and yesterday her fangs were out.

The kids and I were snowed in, work and school having both been cancelled due to the icy road conditions. I stayed annoyed with the kids most of the morning. They were too loud, too rowdy, too altogether childish. I was trying to make the best use of my unscheduled off day to get things done around the house, and frankly they were in my way. Making more messes in the wake of all my cleaning efforts.

A couple times they needed my help or my approval or my acknowledgment, but I just waved them off with a martyred sigh and instructions to please entertain themselves so I could work.

Lauryn finally busied herself in her room, and the boys bundled up to go play outside in the snow. They escaped out the door after repeated stern warnings from me to not track in mud or leave their wet clothes lying around or make any other messes. (I can't imagine why they wouldn't want to stay in the house with their loving mother.)

When Lauryn finally emerged from her room, she came bearing gifts:

Not only a sweet note, but a necklace as well. (Strung backwards because she lines up the word, then strings it on in that order. Precious.)

A gift so undeserved. It changed my attitude and behavior. It helped me remember to enjoy my children instead of barely tolerate them.

It was a good lesson for me, in a weird way, about parenting. Her sweet gesture made me stop and take a breath, re-evaluate my attitude and interactions, and wipe the grimace off my face. If she would have come to me with a scowl and told me that I was being a big meanie of a mommy and needed to shape up, our interaction would not have gone nearly so nicely, and definitely would not have resulted in an improved attitude.

I imagine the kid are much like me. They'd much rather be treasured and loved sweetly, even if undeserved, than continually scolded and shooshed and corrected, even if their behavior warrants it.

Finding the balance is why I need the Holy Spirit and His wisdom. Knowing when to lovingly correct (that key aspect of "lovingly" was missing entirely yesterday) and when to lavish unmerited grace is beyond my ability on my own.

If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God,

who gives generously to all without finding fault,

and it will be given to him. James 1:5

God Bless the South

2012-02-12T17:24:00.000-06:00

Thank you Lord that I live in a place where snow is an occasional novelty, instead of a normal part of existence. A couple days of snow gear, wet clothes, muddy footprints, snotty chapped faces... and this mama is ready for the stuff to be melted and gone!

Makes for some cute pics though....

misspent

2012-02-08T11:33:00.000-06:00

I'm writing today on passion misspent. Click here to visit my post on the Prize31 blog.

wonderfully made

2012-02-07T09:51:00.003-06:00

What has God fashioned in you, in your personality, that you are thankful for?

I had a talk with friends last week about how humans, we of the female persuasion especially, are prone to fault-finding. In others, yes, but mostly in self. Self-Improvement. Self-Awareness. Self-Discipline. The perpetual directive loudly bouncing around in our skulls: "I must work harder to correct these flaws in myself." A needed exercise no doubt. But the pendulum so easily shifts in only one direction, doesn't it? We see where we need work, but do we celebrate what God has gifted within us? Do we praise Him for the way He has crafted us with passions and abilities? Do we even believe that we are fearfully and wonderfully made?

I know there is a fine line and balance between pride and humbly praising our Maker. But I think when people operate in their God-given gifts it brings Him honor!

I thank Him that I am a loyal friend and daughter. I praise Him that I have a certain innate amount of reasoning and logic and ability to build rapport, that when nurtured, make me a great Speech Therapist. I'm grateful, along with all mothers, that I have been given an ability to hear what my children do not say and give them what they don't even know they need.

I'm also thankful that I have a degree of transparency that makes it easy to share my shortcoming and faults, of which there are many. But that is not for today. Today is for celebrating a creative God that knits each of us together with beauty.

Where do you see God's workmanship in yourself? If you are so brave as to name it, then please share! At least name it as an act of worship in your heart, if not in a comment. I praise my God when I see the different ways He has gifted my friends and family. That is where I tend to see His creativity most on display.

necklace available on etsy

GUEST POST: forgiveness that transforms

2012-02-01T09:29:00.001-06:00

Note from Starr: I met Julian Gonzales and his wife Minerva nearly a decade ago at The Pathway of Life church in Dallas, TX. I respect his authenticity, his love and passion for his family, and the work he does to minister to "the least of these." I asked him to share this story on my blog, because I was challenged and humbled by it. Forgiveness matters.

I can't remember the last time someone smiled at me without having the feeling that something bad was about to happen. Usually when a stranger smiled in my barrio, it meant several things and all of those things were bad. Nevertheless, he was smiling and walking towards me. I didn't do the normal procedure; watching the whereabouts of where his hands were on his person. I didn't visually blitz his clothes, trying to discover a bulge or slight impression of a gun, knife, or tire iron for that matter. I didn't even look for an escape route, nor did I reach into my pocket and make ready my recently acquired .380 pistol that I bought from the local heroin addict. I knew he wasn't "Five-Oh", because he was calm. He didn't swallow hard, his breathing was consistent; neither shallow, deep, nor hard, but just right. He was now close enough to me to be a problem if he wanted to, but I didn't feel threatened by him. I did however feel uncomfortable at the pace he was approaching me, so I said to him in the best poker face I could muster, "Whatcha looking at ese'?" Immediately spitting out my gum, and where it landed became the symbolic demarcation point. He stopped about 1 millimeter away from where the wad of gum landed so close that the front of his British Knights tennis shoes would bump it occasionally. He never stopped smiling.

I was 16 years old when this happened, and I was standing near the Lambrano St. bridge, by Elmendorf St. in the Mechaca Courts section of San Antonio. My uncles, who were alcoholics, recently started going to church, and for me it was scary because I didn't know who these guys where anymore. They talked about how great church was on Sunday morning and then again on Sunday night, they were even going to church on Wednesdays too. Then one day about four o clock in the morning when one of my uncles began singing, "I will dance like David" I said, "What the hell is going on here?" It only got worse when Grandma busted out her tambourine and played it so hard that Tina Turner would have envied her. God was moving in our home, and I didn't understand it one single bit. I was living my life just a half step in front of death; I was selling drugs and getting paid to beat people. I was involved with the San Antonio Kings at the time we where a known as a "wolf pack" for a bigger, more violent and established prison gang.

Two days later on a Friday night I found myself at church. You see, that young man who walked up to me in my barrio just graduated from Latin American Bible Institute, and he was the youth pastor and worship leader for East Central Assemblies of God Church in San Antonio, Texas. He was no older than 20 years old and grew up in the church; I guess that's the reason why he thought he could sneak up on me and "jokingly" apply a choke hold. I was talking to several people at the time, and I noticed their eyes would flare off of me. A true sign that someone was behind you, but I ignored the massive urge to turn around. That is when I felt someone apply pressure around my neck. From then, I really don't remember what happened, other than when it was finished this pastor of about 50 youth lay on the floor of the church gym, bleeding from his mouth holding his arm with a dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist. I stood over him and someone pushed me away. I went into failsafe mode; I was ready to fight everyone if I needed to. He saw what was going on, so he got onto his feet and placed himself in between I and the others even though he could barely stand the pain. He said something to the youth, and for the love of God I don't remember what he said, but whatever he said calmed everyone down. In the mean time I was sizing up the guys that had begun to charge me before the pastor interceded.
I remember that night I felt like I was going to hell, because I just beat up a pastor. He called me later after he got out of the hospital and apologized for doing what he did. I remember saying to myself, "He is apologizing to me for kicking his ass?" I didn't know how to act, but he showed up at my door and made sure that I would go to church. It was a new experience for me. He, by example, taught me how forgiveness should work. I in turn taught him how to apply a correct choke hold. I made a lot of friends at that church, and gradually left the street life. I will never forget how Pastor D, a youth pastor, took the time, got beat up, and extended forgiveness, for me to have a relationship with the Lord. I now have been married for 18 years have two wonderful children and I still go to church happily. I reflect at times what would have become of me if that youth pastor would not have listened, and taken the time to share Christ's love with me? What would have become of me, if he did not stand up for me on that Friday night that I broke his wrist and dislocated his shoulder? I don't know, but I thank God that he did.

Julian and his awesome family

When I have angry, mean-spirited, hurt kids at church who are hard to love, I think about this story and the man that Julian has become. Help me be quick to forgive offenses and extravagant with my love for those kids Lord! Thank you Lord for "Pastor D" and his willingness for forgive.

blue eyed cutie-pie

2012-01-29T15:52:00.002-06:00

Do yourself a favor: Get your daily fix of too-cute-to-believe, and click here to admire my nephew, the world's most adorable 1 year old. (And follow my sister-in-law's blog while you're at it!)

Whenever Jonathan and I see a new picture of this guy, we go on and on and on about how stinkin' adorable he is. Sometimes the kids will hear our gushing and have to clarify, "But Dad, you thought I was a cute baby too, right?" "Geesh Mom! Did you think we were as cute as him?!?" And the answer of course is "Yes!" Just like my other niece and nephew are the world's cutest as well!

God made one-year-olds in a way that just captures hearts. He probably made them so cute because they're so much work.

Be quiet. No you be quiet. No you.

2012-01-25T17:07:00.001-06:00

Does this you-be-quiet ongoing sibling quarrel really have to happen right outside my bathroom door? So. Annoying.

"BOTH OF YOU!!! BE QUIET!!! AND LET ME GO TO THE BATHROOM!!!"

I'm not so precious that I require silence to use the bathroom. In that situation I just happen to be a trapped party who can't help but listen to the squabbling nonsense and it drives me bonkers.

The quarreling between brother(s) and sister has definitely gone up a notch around here lately. "Both of you, to your rooms" is a common phrase.

It's tiresome. I makes me tired. I tire of it. I am tired, you see!

That is all. Goodnight.

It's only 5:05. I haven't fed anyone dinner. We haven't finished homework. No one has had a bath.

So it's not really goodnight. But I wish it was.

people change.

2012-01-23T21:09:00.004-06:00

people change.

It's inevitable. We all change. Hopefully in good ways but probably in some bad ones too.

Jonathan just shakes his head in silent wonder when I craft or sew or read internet tutorials on how to bring a dirty cookie sheet back to it's original shiny glory...because that is NOT the woman he married. Indeed, 10 years ago I counted Martha Stewart as one of the most ridiculous people on the planet; now I admit to having watched a tutorial or seventy on her website.

I think those are good changes.

I have changed in ways that might be bad too. I'm bolder, and quicker to speak my mind. (Good and bad.) I'm more likely to hold grudges. (Am I getting crankier as I age? Working on that!) I have accepted that some things about me will never change, that probably should change. Acceptance can be good; acceptance of faults that need to change, that's maybe not so good. (My bed is currently piled halfway to the ceiling with laundry.) (We have 10 foot ceilings and I was being literal.) (I'm kinda nonchalant about the pile of laundry.) (I'm pretty much okay with it actually. It's our normal.)

He's changed too. ~~For the sake of marital bliss, I'll stick with the good ways.~~ I can really only think of good ways:

He's slower to judge people. He's quicker to say Thank You and I love you; to everyone, not just me. He never says a word when he's forced to sift through the dryer for clean socks; manages to do it pleasantly in fact. He sees some things in gray and not always in black and white; I think that's a good thing. He speaks his mind but it's with less abruptness and more gentleness. He's quick to offer a sincere apology. He's an even better speaker and preacher, and he's always been my very favorite.

So people change. I think young love birds would do well to know that the person they marry will not be the person they are living with some 15 years later. But the fun part is that you get to be a big part of shaping that change, you get to see prayers answers (just keep praying), and you get to enjoy watching a person become who they were created to be.

Cliff: Lubbock Branch

2012-01-16T06:00:00.023-06:00

The Cliff Family.

Lubbock, TX branch.

Fun together time - just us - is required. We all notice when we haven't had enough.

We laugh and squabble and laugh again within seconds.

We watch a lot of movies. Not enough princess movies to make it fair.

We pray together but not before every single meal.

Goodnight kisses and special handshakes happen every night. Sometimes the parents rush through it.

We recognize each others strengths. We encourage.

We tease. Sometimes too hard. So we apologize.

We love Jesus and trust God. The kids sometimes have questions the adults can't answer.

All five of us scramble to clean the house before guests arrive.

We have grace with each other. And then we don't.

The kids learn from observing. Then the kids act like the parents. Good and not good.

All of us dote on the baby Cliff. She's six and not a baby.

Card games end in hysterical laughter and high fives. Other times in sore-loser tears.

None of us like green vegetables that much. The mom tries to pretend.

We all know we have it good. Very good.

We open our home to kids who need a temporary family. We love it. It's hard and sometimes we complain.

We love Texas, but the five of us could live anywhere. Together.

photos by Andy West

letters from flickr set

Bird Nest Necklace

2012-01-13T06:00:00.012-06:00

How cute is this "Mama Bird" nest necklace, with three little eggs for my three little birdies?!?

And, of course, I saw the tutorial for making this precious pendant on Pinterest. (I have never made jewelry unless you count braided friendship bracelets in sixth grade, but this was a quick, easy project.)

I made a necklace for my friend Danielle too. I'm quite sure when I give it to her the first thing she'll say is, "Oh! I saw this on Pinterest!" Pinterest, making it impossible to pretend as though you're creative all on your own without the aid of the internet!

I adore it.

graphic chicken carcass image ahead

2012-01-12T06:00:00.002-06:00

Admittedly, I am no culinary genius. But I have recently made a startling discovery. Did you know that you can LIFT UP the skin of a chicken, and rub the seasonings directly on the meat?!? (Told you. Not a culinary genius. I'm pulling a good C average in all things culinary, aiming to increase my GPA this year.) I was always annoyed at creating rubs out of various spices to rub on the chicken, that would then just get discarded as none of my family eats the skin.

So, there you go. My fact-o-the-day for anyone out there who was not previously enlightened about the lifting-of-the-chicken-skin. If there, uh, are any of you.

Sorry good chicken, for exposing you in this way and then photographing it.

Click here for my favorite recipe for roasting a whole chicken in the crock pot. So easy! So good! And then, as seen on the recipe link, just go right ahead and make some homemade broth! You'll feel so good you did. You will feel your culinary GPA elevating with every container you fill with your homemade broth. Or maybe that's just me.

not just for spoons and forks

2012-01-11T16:00:00.001-06:00

I saw this idea for toothbrush/toothpaste/misc. storage on a friend's Pinterest page, and had to go that same day - yay, that very hour- to buy a flatware utensil organizer. Is this brilliant or what?!? Fits perfectly in the top drawer in the bathroom. Ahh the joy that simple solutions bring to my home management heart.

I already keep my earrings in ice cube trays and was excited enough about that for a blog post too. This whole concept could be becoming a thing with me.

thinking about small moments

2012-01-10T08:19:00.002-06:00

I'd love for you to check out my post today on Prize31: small moments and spilled syrup

Join the conversation this month as all the Prize31 authors talk about purpose!

(That always feels like a word with a lot of weight to me, like it should be typed as PURPOSE. and imagined in your head with a resounding echo. If that word makes you cringe a little because you're not sure you've even figured it out, let alone are living it out, click on over and enjoy the posts this month! You are not alone.)

it was a sneak attack!

2012-01-09T16:28:00.000-06:00

I was doing feeding therapy with a precious 8 week old premature baby boy this week. Mom was holding the baby, giving him a bottle, and I was leaned in close beside them on the couch. I was deep in therapist mode, noting the strength of his lip seal, his breathing coordination, etc. Deep in thought, mind you. Focused completely on this baby, you see.

Out of nowhere his 2 year old big sister approaches in a sneak attack and wallops the heck out of my forehead with a plastic rain stick.

Make no mistake. This thing looks innocent enough, but when wielded like a baseball bat it can pack a punch.

I let out a loud, compulsory "OUCH!", and was grateful I didn't say anything more colorful. (Not that I get a whole lot more colorful, but still...I was glad I didn't teach the 2 year old a new word-o-the-day.) I grabbed my head, sure there would be major blood loss, but alas there was just a small cut and moderate size knot. The knot was a decent size when it initially happened, but when I finally got home to try and get sympathy from anyone it had shrunk significantly. I knew I should have taken a picture.

I have never been in a fight, nor played a contact sport...so at the age of 33 a two-year old managed to give me the hardest hit I've ever experienced to date. That's....kinda sad. Ha!

Somewhere there are thousands of bobby pins.

2012-01-07T13:31:00.001-06:00

I buy bobby pins in packs of 100. Within a few months, I can't find a single one. Where do those suckers end up? What do I do with them?

A friend and I were discussing this phenomenon of the missing bobby pins, and we both laughed at how our Grandmothers have managed to use the same 4 bobby pins since 1958.

Our generation should be ashamed. :)

always a mixed bag

2012-01-04T15:06:00.001-06:00

A mixed bag of emotions, that is, when the kids go back to school after a break! My friend Tina just posted about it here, from the perspective of sending her oldest back to Kinder while her two littles are still at home. How well I remember!

Mostly these breaks make me so grateful that my kids are blessed with a great school and loving teachers. Each of them have said they're excited to get back, and my sweet Lauryn has been writing her teacher notes over the break, stuffing them away in her backpack to give her tomorrow when they go back to school.

Don't you love the yes/no checkboxes? I'm glad this note is to a teacher and not some boy!

Kindergarten teachers are so fun. For their Christmas Party, Lauryn's class had a Wacky Waffle Party with crazy, unlimited toppings. How fun, and yet how brave! I'm pretty good at wrangling a room full of kids...but I would hesitate to undertake that endeavor with a room of 17 five and six year olds! And it's still wild to me that Lauryn entered Kindergarten with a rudimentary knowledge of letters and the sounds they make...and after four months, learning under a teacher she adores, she's reading. Like, really reading. So cool. Thank you teachers!

Happy Birthday

2012-01-03T06:00:00.001-06:00

I started Lost in Laundry five years ago today!

Thanks to all my readers who have been there from the beginning. (Hi, Mom.)

It's changed a lot since the beginning, this documenting of life. Things that used to merit a blog post now get a quick Facebook update instead. Pictures that used to post here, now usually go on Instagram. It changes quick, this here technology.

As I realized the fifth anniversary was approaching, I spent a lot of time looking back thru old posts. And I don't feel a bit bad about it. Time well spent. After all, the whole reason for starting this blog was to help me remember the small moments that mattered enough at the time for me to write about them!

And I do love nostalgia.

Reading back thru my old posts, I remember what a challenge it was to raise toddlers, and I'm grateful for how far we've come! (A two year old Lauyrn once cried 25 minutes and said I wasn't her friend because I asked her to drink her milk at the table? I once tried to pay a stranger at the park for a diaper? I had blocked that stuff out until I read about it!)

Here are a few of my favorite posts thru the years.

I obviously expect no one except maybe my mother to click every link:

A four year Ryan and three year old Dylan making Brownies (oh the cuteness)

The 23rd Psalm Has Never Sounded So Cute (uh..I never had my other two never memorize it.)

Naked Sam

Tea Time

Joys of Photo Editing

Holding On

It's the Little Things that Make me Love Him

It's Mo. With an M. (a fan favorite)

Sinking

Ryan Laughing Uncontrollably

And the Monkey's Name is Lauryn

Scent and Memory and Mouthwash: Listerine

Two of My Favorite People (love this picture)

Self, you are convincing. But don't believe you.

Falling in Love

Wherein I look like Ramona

Girls: Cooties, or not?

If life is a classroom then I've repeated a few grades.

Queen of Hearts

It's a Girl Thing

On Being a Foster Mom

Well...here's to the next five years! I expect many adventures, and know my God will be faithful through all of it. The next time I sit down to peruse the last five years of my memories, my kids will be 14, 13, and 11. And that time will be here in a blink.

tis the season of gift-giving

2011-12-20T06:00:00.003-06:00

If you like to give homemade treats and gifts at Christmastime, but struggle to control your own calorie intake when making all those many delicious baked goods (as I raise my own hand high in the sky and wave it madly), then here's another hand made gift option for ya! I sewed up a bunch of these rice-filled, lavender-scented hold/cold packs this year:

I started out making sectioned ones as seen on Pinterest here, then realized I was running out of time for this project (and I was growing tired of the constant yet lovely smell of lavender permeating our house) so I switched to the much quicker square version. (Can I also just admit here, to my horror, that I misspelled lavender on EVERY SINGLE GIFT TAG? Oh the shame. It's hard for me to even post the photographic proof of that guffaw.)

It's not too late to make up a few of these if you're still on the hunt for last minute gifts!

The kids and I did bake up a few treats for the immediate neighbors...and as feared I lost all self control and joined the kids in continually sampling our work. So much that it makes me a little sick to even look at these treats - I can go a long, long time without eating another MandM cookie. When will I learn?!?

Fourth Annual Coffee-Girl Dinner

2011-12-19T06:00:00.001-06:00

A group of friends and I meet (sporadically - we are all moms ya know) on Thursday's nights for coffee and conversation. And laughs. Lots and lots of laughs.

We've made it a tradition to get together for a Christmas Dinner every year, where we each bring different ingredients and prepare a meal together. I blogged about our first dinner here, the second year of green-chile enchiladas somehow went unblogged (travesty!), our omelette lesson from last year is documented here, and this current post marks our fourth year. It seems at once unbelievable that I've known these ladies that long, and unbelievable that I haven't known them longer. Know what I mean?

This year, my friend Terisa brought her raclette grill and we cooked at the table as we ate. I had never seen or heard of a raclette until Terisa introduced it to us, but it's super fun. Different cooking oils, veggies, seasoning, and meats are all in serving dishes around the table and you throw on the raclette whatever combo you want. Smoked sausage, black beans and corn in your pile, cooking alongside your friends shrimp, squash and mushroom in her pile. Then you decide that her pile looked pretty good, so you replicate it the next go round! So good.

There were a couple times at dinner when I had to resist the urge to break into a heartfelt soliloquy about what these ladies and their friendship means to me. I hadn't prepared notes or anything, and didn't feel quite confident enough to bust into poetry off the cuff. What a fun night and great tradition. Looking forward to next year ladies, and what new stories we'll have to share.

"Thank you Lord, for these women as well as other women in Lubbock and elsewhere, that encourage me and help me see Your nature and heart! I see Your creativity, passion, love, and grace represented in the lives of these beautifully imperfect, forgiven, amazing women."

the rectangle

2011-12-18T15:50:00.001-06:00

A few Sundays ago, I did an activity with my small group (I hang out with the 3rd grade boys before and after Trinity Kidsplace large group service) that has stayed on my mind and heart these last few weeks.

I put a different name tag on each of the boys:

"Hello, my name is__________" tags, that we then labeled with all the things the boys' said that they loved to do. Hello, my name is Wii. Hello, my name is skateboarding. Hello, my name is... Reading Books. Art. Play Station. Television. Bike-riding. Playing with friends. Football. Swimming. XBox. Each boy got a label representing an activity.

I drew a rectangle on the ground with painter's tape, and explained that the rectangle represented the 24 hours each of us have in a day. Then I started putting boys in the rectangle. Wii went in. Skateboarding went in. Television. Books. Friends. It was getting crowded, but I kept shoving them in the rectangle. Bike-riding, playstation. This was getting messy. Not much room left in the rectangle now. With some effort, the boys squeezed together to cram in Football, and that was it. No room left.

Then I introduced a boy who had been given a tag that said "Hello, my name is Jesus." Except...he wouldn't fit in the rectangle. There was no way, with all the other stuff happening in that rectangle, that there was room for Jesus.

I had all the boys exit the rectangle and sit down, and we put Jesus in the rectangle first. Then Jesus got to decide who else could join him. We had a good talk about how we must make Jesus - praying to Him, and reading his Word - take first priority, and then let Him control the hours we're given. Some of the kids acted surprised that Jesus asked Wii and Skateboarding to join him in the rectangle, so we had a good talk about having fun while honoring God, and how every good gift comes from Him. (These unexpected conversations about the character and nature of God are my favorite!)

I've thought a lot since that Sunday about my rectangle and the things that crowd out Jesus. "Hello, my name is...." Housework. Television. Books. Cooking. Friends. Vanity. Time spent cleaning the kitchen counter for the 15th time, watching a mindless sitcom, texting a friend a random story, spending too much time blow drying my hair and carefully applying make-up, and just like that the routine of a normal day can leave no room for Jesus. He gets squeezed out of my rectangle more often that I'd like to admit.

What I've learned by experience but haven't fully embraced in practice, is that when I make Jesus priority - when He is the first thing allowed in my rectangle - then supernaturally the rectangle this is my day seems to expand, making room for everything else that must be done. Except that it's not a place of chaos, with all the demands pushing and shoving to make room, it's a place of peace with plenty of time and space for all that He asks of me.

Thanks 3rd grade boys, for helping me learn a lesson, and thanks 252basics for great curriculum that teaches the teacher!

it's true

2011-12-12T06:00:00.000-06:00

favorite ornaments

2011-12-09T06:00:00.000-06:00

Any ornament that marks the kids growth will always be a bittersweet favorite for me! I love seeing how they're growing, but hate how fast it's happening. And all the moms said Amen.

Remember when Ryan's handprint ornament shattered? Here's a similar version of Dylan's hand:

Love these handmade gems!

The time. It does fly.

2011-12-08T06:00:00.003-06:00

I've been thinking a lot about this texting conversation I had with my mom. Trying to enjoy each moment, even in this busy season. Apparently, the passage of time flies by even quicker when we become grandparents!

Here's to planning more Starbucks dates with the Cliff Crew, and enjoying the chaotic days in between and along the way.

electronic Christmas greetings

2011-12-07T17:18:00.000-06:00

Favorite Ornaments

2011-12-02T06:00:00.000-06:00

I bought this ornament in the campus bookstore, right before I graduated Northeastern State University in December of 1999. We moved to TX soon after.

NSU was a great place to go to college, and a wonderful time of my life. I met some of my lifelong friends at Northeastern and had incredible experiences there. Gotta make plans to take the kids to Tahlequah next summer. It's time they see beautiful Seminary Hall, and be forced to pretend to listen and politely nod as me and Jonathan endlessly reminisce.

When I hang this ornament, I think of camping out along the Illinois River...worshipping and singing while good friends played the guitar...growing up, and falling in more in love with Jesus...fun times with roommates in the dorms...planning a wedding and getting married...the good stuff.

Hey NSU alumni - did you know you can enroll your kids in the Legacy Program if you are a member of the Alumni Association? We enrolled the kids, and at different times they get correspondence and fun stuff in the mail with the NSU logo. Kinda cool.