I was going to post my fair-well message to all my readers as I have failed miserably since the baby was born to keep up with my blog.  I had decided that my time is spread too thin to maintain the blog anymore, so therefore, I needed to let it go and say goodbye forever.

HOWEVER, I have made the decision, for the time being, to just re-run a few of my first posts, when perhaps many of you were not readers yet, and give myself just a little more time before deciding whether or not to let this go for good.  Perhaps, with a few re-run, early addition posts, and some extra time under my belt, I will get better at managing the 6 children and may find some free time to get back to the writing that I so enjoy!

In the mean time, please excuse a post here and there that you may have already read, and wish me luck on finding this thing that everyone keeps talking about…..I think it’s called “Balance”!  Have any of you ever heard of it…and if so, how do I get some???

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It is officially summer vacation in our home and I cannot even begin to articulate how elated I am about that declaration!  My children have emptied their desks and brought home every single nub of eraser and inch long pencil they have accumulated at school over the past year.  All the artwork that has adorned the walls at school are now scattered across my kitchen just awaiting their placement on either the fridge, cupboards, or the ever-esteemed patio doors.

I went grocery shopping yesterday so I am well prepared (for at least the first 3 days) for all the elaborate breakfasts we will make together that we don’t have time for during the school year.  The refrigerator is stocked up with all the essentials for our backyard cookouts.  The cupboards are brimming with all the treats and goodies needed for the million snack breaks my children will have to take “or we are just going to die of starvation if we have to wait for dinner, mom!”  And the freezer is full of those wonderful and most essential parts of summer…the freezy pops!  I just cannot wait to start picking up those empty plastic sleeves all over the yard and the snipped off ends lying randomly all over the kitchen counters!

Summer is truly my favorite season and it has little to do with the weather.  I can’t even tell you how nice it is to be “off” for the summer!   As a stay-at-home mom, it’s like reliving your summer vacations as a child growing up.  And I’m not insinuating that having the kids home all day, every day is easy.  I’m sure I will need to go back and read this post roughly two weeks into summer to remind myself about how much I have been eagerly awaiting this time.  When I have heard my millionth “I’m board!” and my whistle is broken already from playing referee, I know I will need to practice my deep breathing and remember how I long for this time with my children.  Aside from the normal chaos with having 6 children under the same roof 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for approximately 3 months, our lives are truly much more enjoyable and relaxing during summer break.

The biggest plans we make are going to softball and soccer games, having campfires, and taking long walks through the nature center.  Going swimming at the local pool, hitting up every zoo in the area, and exploring the wide range of state parks are our biggest missions during these special and limited summer months.  Staying up late at night to roast marshmallows and count the stars, lying in the grass trying to identify cloud formations, and slathering on the sunscreen before heading to a new beach we’ve never explored before are moments that simply cannot be matched by any other time of year.

There are no tests to study for…no homework to eat up our evenings together.  I don’t have to share my children with their teachers.  I don’t have to spread myself so thin trying to volunteer for everything the school needs help with.  No running ragged to practices and extracurricular events.  It’s just us….and we have all the time in the world to do whatever we want to do.

Not only do I get the much-needed time with my children without the hustle and bustle of the outside world, but they get the time with each other.  They get reacquainted with their siblings and have the time to reinforce the bond that can only be formed between brothers and sisters working together to build the best sand castle on the beach or making tent forts in the living room, on a rainy day, with couch cushions and blankets.

We create the best memories during this time of year, and I’m so blessed to be home with my babies for these few precious but fleeting months of summer!

Tornado warnings and children are always an exciting combo in our home!  This past week we had some seasonably normal weather….70 degrees one day and then a swift 20 degree drop in temperature to end the day with 50 degrees and sudden severe weather.

We were at the park enjoying my daughter’s last week of softball games when the dark clouds started rolling in.  Now, many people in my extended family are not fond of a good thunderstorm…tornado sirens or not, they head to the basement just in case.  I, on the other hand, LOVE a good thunderstorm as long as I am safe and sound, nestled at home with my family by my side; however, being at the ball diamond as the storm moved in rather abruptly was less than ideal.  As soon as Kylie’s game was over, I quickly gathered her and my other little ducklings who were playing on the playground nearby, and we scampered home like little mice.

All the way home the children were murmuring about the black clouds that appeared to be following us. They were giving me a hard time about how excited I must be for the ensuing weather and asking me how in the world I could love a storm. I was explaining to them that it’s because my mom always loved thunderstorms when I was growing up so instead of making them scary for me, she developed within me a sincere appreciation for all of God’s weather….even the thunderstorms.

(as a side note) I cannot thank my mom enough to this day for her love of storms and instilling that same love within me. She always taught us to take the weather seriously and not look into the eye of a storm with anything less than respect for the damage it can bring. But with that, she also taught us to appreciate its strength and even the beauty of the lighting, the sounds of the thunder, and the smell of the falling rain.

Since having children of my own, I have tried to instill that same kind of appreciation for the weather in them. So to witness them on this stormy night getting “excited” for it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Let’s just say that the warm and fuzzy feeling was short lived!

As we pulled into the garage and the rain started coming down, I went to close the door and my husband kindly reminded me he was just dropping us off and headed back out for his haircut appointment. To be honest, I was a little annoyed that he was leaving because it was 7pm already and the kids all needed to eat dinner yet, get homework and baths done, the baby needed to be fed, etc. etc. But I do understand that he needed to get his hair cut, so “be off with you” I said, and headed in the house to get things rolling.

So….Corey is gone

My cell phone is dead and my home phone is dead as well

The kids are in the midst of eating the first frozen pizza I made, and the second one was in the oven

Their homework was strewn across the table

I had whipped up batter for some homemade strawberry shortcake and was just waiting to toss that in the oven as soon as the next pizza was done when the baby started wailing because in that moment, he just couldn’t bare to wait another second before eating.

And….the tornado sirens went off! This is the part where my evening went from hectic to completely hysterical to any outsider looking in at the circus act I was running.

I start ushering everyone down to the basement with their plates of pizza in hand (hey, we were already behind schedule, and I couldn’t afford to waste any more time so eating downstairs was now the only option). I was a bit concerned that I didn’t have a working phone and that my husband was getting his hair cut in the midst of a tornado, but there really was nothing I could do about those tid-bits so we headed for “shelter” and hoped for the best.

As I sat downstairs trying to nurse the baby so he would settle down, I was a quiet observer to the rest of my children.

I’m watching my 8-year-old scurry around the house to gather every single candle we own just in case the power goes out (smart thinking on his part).

I see Natalie climb onto her brother’s bed (which is located downstairs) with pizza sauce all over her face and hands, and I realize that perhaps bringing the pizza downstairs to finish dinner was not the best idea I’ve ever had.

My oldest son is watching the news report and tracking the tornado’s path while my 10-year-old son is mumbling under his breath, worrying himself to death, because I won’t let him bring down every item in the pantry just in case we are marooned downstairs for any length of time.

And my 13 year old is frantically receiving and sending texts to all 200 hundred of her closest friends that reads, “If we don’t make it out of this tornado alive, please know that I love you. Forward this onto to the friends you love!”

(Yes, I know…..so much for me instilling a sense of reverence and tranquility regarding storms in my children)!

When all was said and done….

Corey strolls in the house after the tornado warning has been lifted for our area. The pizza that was in the oven is charred and the shortcake batter has been sitting on the counter way too long. No homework or baths have been completed and it’s now bedtime. My son’s sheets need to be changed as to avoid the pizza sauce wiped all over his bed. And my daughter is feeling rather “loved” by all the friends who cared enough to send her a message in their final minutes of life!

Some days you have to look around you and just laugh out loud! Nobody ever said life with 6 children was going to be dull :o)

I do believe this post will be my most difficult to pen in quite awhile. I have been trying to create the first draft in my mind since the day of my son, Emery, was born, but I always get overwhelmed with emotion and end up deciding to put it on hold for the moment. Well, I realized today that it’s now been nearly 3 weeks since his birth and it is time to try and find the right words to adequately describe his birth day.

Friday, March 26, 2010 our lives were forever changed. With the birth of my 6^th child, my heart has been irrevocably altered. Just when I believed I could not possibly love any more than I already did, God helped Emery come into this world and in that instant; I could actually feel my heart expanding. The best part of having children is that God never puts a limit on how much love our hearts can hold. He just helps the heart expand so you can hold even more love than you ever thought possible.

My older 4 children had spent Thursday night at their dad’s home. When I said my goodbyes to them that evening, I held them a little longer…..squeezed them a little tighter. When they finally pulled away from my embrace, they each looked at me like I was nuts because after all, they go to their dad’s house all the time so why was I being so “weird” about it this time. They knew I was having the baby the next day, but what they didn’t know…what they could never realize at their young ages…is how deeply I love them or what they mean to me!

I went in at 7:30am on Friday morning and was actually a few minutes late because we stayed at home a little too long trying to explain to Grandma, who was staying at the house to care for Miss Natalie while we were in the hospital, every last detail of how Natalie’s life typically runs. And as most parents tend to do, we completely forgot that she had raised my husband and he managed to come through childhood with flying colors, so the odds were in Natalie’s favor that Gram could hold down the fort for 2 days. So after all the explaining was through (complete with a 2 page, typed reference guide just in case she forgot anything I had just told her)….I kissed my baby girl goodbye knowing that our lives….her life…was about to change forever.

We got to the hospital and checked in. Things started kind of rough and to be quite honest, it was one of the most difficult labors I have ever experienced. It was the little things that seemed to go wrong. My doctor came in to break my water. The hope was that with me already being 3 cm dilated and 70% effaced, all it would take is my water to break to bring on the contractions and kick off my labor. But it wouldn’t break. That’s correct…you read that right. He couldn’t get my water to break! Have you ever heard of such a thing? I know I hadn’t. He went up there with his rather large crochet needle and after scraping around in there like he was carving a pumpkin, he said he couldn’t get it to break because the baby’s head was right there and he didn’t want to poke around too much and risk hitting the baby’s head!

So, we went with option #2, which was to start an IV and administer Pitocin. Another relatively easy task; however, it took 2 nurses and 4 very painful prods with needles to even get my IV started. What normally would have taken 5 minutes turned into nearly an hour long production and I had bruises on my arms that made me look like a heroin addict!

The IV was finally in place, the Pitocin was flowing by 9am, and I just wanted to walk the halls with Corey as we had done with Natalie’s labor. Another normal event for labor…walking the halls to get the contractions rolling, but instead, I ended up taking 3 laps around the floor and then the nurses had to put me in bed for the rest of the labor. The monitors I was hooked up to would not track the baby’s heart rate like they were supposed to if I moved AT ALL! So walking became out of the question and even sitting up or changing positions in bed ended up being off limits. Once they got the monitor in place enough to pick up his heart beat, I had to sit as still as possible in order not to lose it again. And as many of you mothers out there know, sitting in one position for an extended period of time when in labor, makes for a much more uncomfortable and painful labor indeed!

After several hours, I decided to go ahead with an epidural to relieve the pain. Without being able to move much and with the Pitocin being increased every 15 minutes or so, I had decided I wanted some pain relief so the anesthesiologist was called to my room. Now, I had a problem with my epidural during Natalie’s birth so I was very nervous about this to begin with. I asked the nurses before the doctor arrived about how good he was, and I was told by several nurses that this particular anesthesiologist was the best of the best! I sighed a huge sigh of relief and confirmed my decision for the epidural.

And this is where the fun really began. For some unknown reason to me, the nurses, or the doctor, he could not get the catheter that is inserted into the spine positioned properly. He went through an entire tray of needles and supplies. I had to make him stop after numerous attempts because I could not stand the pain any longer…the pain from the needles he was sticking in my back, not the contractions I was having. We decided to check my cervix to see how dilated I was. If I was far enough along, we were going to stop trying to administer the epidural and just do the birth the old fashioned way. Unfortunately, I was only at 5 cm and I was so panicked that I wouldn’t be able to make it through the rest of the labor without pain relief, that I actually let this maniac try one more time to get the job done. Looking back, I wish I would have had more faith in my ability to handle the pain on my own, but fear drove me to let the lunatic hit me again with another needle. It finally worked this time, but when all was said and done, it had taken him SEVEN attempts with large needles going into my spine…SEVEN different attempts to get the catheter in the right spot. You know it was a rough day when the doctor himself looks at you and says,

“I have only had one patient, other than you, in 25 years where this has happened. I don’t smoke, but I think I need a cigarette after that one!”

Well, if he thought he needed a cigarette, just imagine what I needed at about that time!

And then things went from painful to excruciating because the epidural only “took” on the left side of my body!!! I couldn’t feel my left side at all, I was completely numb, but I could feel every single contraction on my right side. So after all the pain I went through trying to get the epidural administered, I was still going to have to go through this labor naturally anyway…at least on the right side of my body.

Looking back, I am actually glad it only worked on one side because I can finally say I know what labor and delivery feels like from start to finish. It was truly the most pain I have ever experienced in my life….more pain than any other birth….but I would endure that kind of pain a thousand times over to end up with such an amazing gift at the end of it all.

At 3:10pm on Friday, March 26, 2010 Mr. Emery Lee Sass came into this world weighing 9lbs 4oz and 19inches long. That’s correct….NINE POUNDS, FOUR OUNCES!!!

As many of you know, we didn’t know what we were having, so the moment he was out, I heard my husband yell, “It’s a boy! It’s a boy!” And I was flooded with emotion…joy, excitement, and relief that my baby boy was finally here. He was here and he was healthy. He was perfect in every single way.

I will never forget the moment the doctor placed him on my chest and feeling his warm skin against mine or hearing my husband’s declaration of gender. I will never erase the image of watching Corey hold his son for the very first time. It literally moved me to tears to be part of such an amazing moment in time.

God had somehow loved me enough to grant me yet another miracle. I know I don’t deserve him….I don’t deserve such an amazing gift, but he’s here and I will forever be grateful for God’s good grace.

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I have now written this several times over….deleted it…rewritten it….edited it to death….and have come to the overwhelming conclusion that I am utterly hopeless in my attempt to describe something there are no words for. I simply cannot put down on paper what this kind of love feels like. I am incapable of describing to you the vastness of the experience or the immense grasp this little boy now has on my heart.

I am unable to articulate my amazement every time I look at his tiny little fingers and toes….

My joy when he opens his eyes and I can see that he knows I’m his mama….

The awe I feel whenever I witness my older children interact with him as if he has been in our lives forever….

My intense gratefulness I have for God’s grace in giving me yet another perfect being to love and care for…..

As I said, where the words I’ve written here today have failed me…I pray that the love I feel will speak volumes to my son and while I may not be able to articulate my feelings with words…
Emery will somehow know what I am unable to say.

The big day is nearly here.  We are less than 30 hours away from my scheduled induction and I am just reeling with emotion.

A TINY bit of disappointment:

As many of you know, I have been induced with my 5 previous pregnancies, so the birth of my children has never been a surprise for me.   With my first couple of children, it really didn’t matter much to me.  I was so excited to meet them, that being induced at 38 weeks (with both of them due to asthma complications), seemed great to me.

But as children 3, 4, & 5 joined us, I became increasingly more distraught over the induction idea.  I just wanted that spontaneous moment so badly.  I had played the scenario over and over again in my head thousands of times with each pregnancy.

It’s the middle of the night….I wake up in a puddle….shake my hubby vigorously to wake him up and tell him “it’s time”!

Or, I’m making dinner and I have a noticeable contraction….and then another….and then another. I soon realize that these contractions, unlike the ones I was feeling prior to this moment, are meeting all the criteria for real labor. They are time- able, they are growing increasingly more intense, and the reality sets in that “it’s time”!

However, I have never had the opportunity for these or any of my other labor fantasies to play out. With child 3, I was induced at 37 weeks because of my asthma. With baby 4, I had preeclampsia so I was induced at 36 weeks. With child 5, I was induced at 39 weeks, again due to my asthma.

I guess I’ve always resented the predictability of it all. I always found out the sex of the baby so that was no surprise. We always had the name chosen well in advance so that was no surprise. I was always induced so the birth date was no surprise. And after the first couple of children, each labor progressed exactly the same way so even my labors were no surprise.

I certainly know there are worse tragedies out there than knowing the day you are going to have your baby. It does come with the benefits of being able to be fully prepared, have sitters lined up, making sure every last detail in my home is in order, etc. So I do try and focus on the positives that being induced offers, but I still just wanted this last baby….my last chance to do it on my own…..to come on his or her own. However, due to my asthma (again) and probably equally due to my OB’s fondness of having it scheduled, I will be induced at 7:30am on Friday, March 26^th.

And while I may know when the baby will be born, this time around….for the first time ever….I have no idea if we are having a boy or girl so we will have the biggest surprise of all on Friday!

A bit of fear mixed with a touch of sadness:

I’m sure the fear needs no explanation. I don’t fear the labor….just that the baby comes out healthy. I cannot even imagine what I would do if something went wrong with labor and there was a problem with the baby, so that fear and anxiety, I believe, is normal for any mother about to give birth.

The sadness….well…..I always feel a twinge of sadness and have to choke back a whole lot tears when I tuck my babies into bed the night before our lives will change forever. I love my life so much. I adore the dynamics of our family so much that knowing things are going to change and never be the same once we wake up in the morning, I can’t help but feel sad for what I have to say goodbye to.

But most of all….more than any other emotion….I feel so much joy, excitement, anticipation, and love in my heart! I am so excited to walk the halls of the hospital with Corey through my labor….stopping along the way to breathe through the contractions and feeling his strong hand holding my hand with each step…..listening to his soft-spoken, but firm words of encouragement when I’m struggling several hours into the process. I am already overwhelmed with the mere thought of Corey holding his baby girl or boy for the very first time. Just thinking about witnessing such a tender moment brings me to tears.

I cannot wait to hold my newest blessing from God myself. I want to count all his or her fingers and toes and see if he/she has blonde hair or brown hair. I am overwhelmed with love for this child already, but I know that the moment that baby is placed on my tummy, my heart will swell even larger than I could have imagined.

So as I tuck my babies into bed tonight….as I pack my bag in anticipation for the big day….I pray that all will go well.

I pray that God will help our family transition from a family of 7 to a family of 8.

I pray my children will adjust well to the newest addition.

I pray that our latest miracle will be healthy as can be.

I pray….I pray….and I pray some more.

Ahhh…..where to begin.

It has been a long couple of weeks and I have so much to blog about I don’t know where to start.  It’s been a couple of trying weeks in our household, and I am a firm believer in the cliché, “What doesn’t kill me, will make me stronger”.

I also know that in the wise words of Mother Theresa, “God won’t give us anything we cannot handle.  I just wish He didn’t trust me so much!”

That statement is tried and true for my life lately.   My baby girl, Natalie, came down with croup that then turned into pneumonia.  She has never been so sick and the high fevers that kept her and I awake, all night long, for 5 straight days was enough to drive any mother insane with worry!  We couldn’t get the meds in her to bring her fever down….we couldn’t get the meds in her to fight off the pneumonia….it was just a mess all the way around.   By the sheer grace of God, she is on the mend, but it wasn’t before she graciously shared her illness with me.

Within 2 days of her fever breaking and turning the corner from extremely ill to just mildly sick, I had come down with a full blown case of….well, it was either bronchitis or pneumonia….which landed me in the ER at 1:30am this past Friday morning, struggling to breathe.  The doctor was unable to confirm which one it was for sure.  With being so pregnant (38 weeks), it didn’t make sense to do an x-ray to confirm which it was because the treatment for me was going to be the same either way.   A high dose of antibiotics and lots of breathing treatments to get me over the hump. It took several days of treatment before I felt semi-human again, but alas.….I’m doing much better than I was a mere 4 days ago.

And while this may seem hard to believe coming from an exhausted, sick, very pregnant, asthmatic who was still recovering from her baby girl being sicker than ever before….the worst of our week was still lying ahead for us. On that same Friday that I returned home from my ER visit, my husband was let go from his job. The company that he had been working for over the past 4 years could not stay afloat with these tough economic times and had to close their doors. He was let go effective immediately.

So….again….allow me to recap:

Very sick toddler

Very sick mommy

Husband lost his job

Baby #6 due in less than 2 weeks

Yep…I guess that about covers everything!

To say we lead boring lives would be a lie. There is truly never a dull moment in our household, and I guess if we want the good, we must also weather the bad. Life wouldn’t be nearly as miraculous or precious if it was always good times. I realize that we all deserve our time to struggle and the up’s and down’s on our journey just bring us closer together and allow us to really cherish the blessings. The bad times are really just more blessings in disguise.

While this has been and will continue to be a trying time in our lives as my husband tries to find a new job, I refuse to let it damper the immense blessing we are about to experience with the pending birth of our child. My induction date has been set for March 26^th at 7:30am if I am unable to go into labor on my own prior to that time. No matter how I slice it, I will not be pregnant for any longer than 10 more days!

And just the thought of getting to meet our latest blessing and newest miracle from God is enough to overcome any hardship we face right now, and thank God that He does trust me so much!

As I get older, I have come to appreciate so much more than I ever did before. I’m not sure if it’s my age or not, but something has woke me up to all the blessings I was missing for so many years. I believe, perhaps, it is a combination of both growing older, but growing wiser as well.

I have found that the one thing I do better as I get older is step back and look at my life. I now have the ability to see just how truly blessed I am. When I was younger, I struggled to see past the day-to-day madness to really appreciate all that God had given me. The financial, marital, and parenting struggles were all consuming for me. I was rarely able to step back and realize that even despite the negative, I was still a very blessed woman.

Please don’t mistake what I’m saying. Not a day has gone by since my first child was conceived that I haven’t thanked God for my children and realized what a blessing and joy they are to me. I just had a hard time seeing past the bills I couldn’t pay, the tension with my spouse, and the constant state of chaos that comes with having 4 children within 6 years to be able to rest assured that tomorrow would bring much of the same madness….and yet was still such a gift from God!

I look at my life now and it’s still just as crazy as it was back then. There are many differences of course….new husband….more children. But there are also many similarities. We still have bills that cannot be paid on time. My husband and I have a wonderful relationship, but it certainly does not come without effort. And my life with my children is crazier than ever.

The biggest difference now is that I am able to push away all the worries, fear, and anxiety over tomorrow….and just take in the blessings of today.

This weekend was like so many weekends have been for us over the past several months…. Work…work…and more work to be done on our house. We are in full swing of remodeling the entire upstairs while adding a bedroom, bathroom, and laundry room downstairs….all the while racing the clock trying to get everything finished before the baby arrives.

The older kids were with their dad this weekend, which is always a difficult time for me. After this many years, you would think I would be used to it by now. But just because there is familiarity in the routine, doesn’t mean it will ever “sit well” in the pit of my stomach.

But even with the constant work…..

Even with the absence of my older children….

Even with the checkbook I struggle to balance each month….

Even with some of the pettiness that eats up time and energy in my marriage….

I realize that I have so much to be grateful for….that God’s blessings have always been right under my nose!

So whether or not being older has made the shift in my perspective, I guess it doesn’t really matter what caused it. What I do know is that I feel much wiser to the gifts in my life today. I am seeing clearer today, than I ever did in the past.

And aside from thanking God for the obvious….I want to thank Him for the wisdom to finally see it….to finally see that I am blessed beyond measure in the form of the craziness I call “my life”.

I enjoyed such a laugh the other day with another mom whom I pass each morning bringing our kids to school.   We are both running just a few minutes late, on most mornings, so we always drop our children off at the front doors instead of the back doors.

The back doors are reserved for those children who get to school BEFORE the first bell rings….clearly not a door we see very often.  My kids are rarely tardy, as we seem to make it to school sometime between that first and second bell, but we struggle to beat that first bell.  I always wonder why they even have the first bell if the kids are not really late until after the second bell. I can only assume it’s for mothers like me! I also wonder why it is that we can never seem to leave the house just 5 minutes earlier each day to make it to those back doors. I guess just another mystery that will need to go unsolved for today.

Anyway, I often feel an unspoken comradery with this other mom whom I see running in the same “just 5 minutes late” circle as I travel in.  It almost makes me feel better to know that I’m not the only mother on the planet who just can’t get out the door in time each day.

So the other day when I saw her (at the school’s front doors) helping her son out of the car with a rather large box….she was wearing cropped pants, hunting socks, and clogs….I just smiled to myself and realized that the morning “outfit” is just another thing we seem to have in common. As I have mentioned before, I adore my sleep and I’m also a night owl….so early mornings and I do not see eye to eye. I wake up just in time to get my children up, ready, fed, and out the door leaving no time for me to primp and prime myself for the day. I usually drive them to school in my PJ’s (sweat pants and a t-shirt); my hair pulled back in a ponytail or a baseball hat, and some sort of footwear….typically whatever slippers are sitting by the back door. I take care of getting ready for the day once I arrive back home and they are dropped off at school. So, seeing my friend out of her car….dressed as I do each morning….I couldn’t help but laugh and empathize with her situation.

You see, when you drive your children to school in such disarray each morning, the most dreaded thing you can hear out of your child’s mouth in that moment when you pull up to the school doors is, “Mom, aren’t you going to help me carry in my Science project?”..….or book project….or any kind of project that requires you to exit the car and expose your attire to the rest of the world. In those moments, you want to shoot yourself for not getting up early enough to at least throw on a bra or put on a pair of real pants. You want to lovingly strangle your child for not mentioning to you before you left the house that he or she would need help into the school with the project. And you also vow to never leave the house again without being completely ready for the day…which lasts for about a week.

You basically just want to sink deeper into your seat and pretend as though you did not hear the pleas from the back of the car. But thanks to the persistence of your child:

you make your way out of the car

fly around to the other side of the vehicle

grab the damn poster

start praying out loud to God that nobody pulls up while you dash the 15 feet into the school

you drop the poster inside the front doors

and then make a mad dash back to your car.

And I believe it was at some point during the audible prayer to God that I wheeled up and caught my dear friend standing by her vehicle, holding the box for her son, and eagerly encouraging him to hustle up out of the back seat so they could run for cover.

I just smiled and waved at her….fully knowing how she was feeling at that moment, and then didn’t think twice about it until I received a message from her later that day via FaceBook. She mentioned to me that she wasn’t trying to start a new trend in the fashion industry with her cropped pants and husband’s hunting socks….that she was just taken by surprise when her son asked for her help in carrying in his project. I laughed so hard when I read that message because so many of us moms…especially stay-at-home moms…have been where she stood that morning!

I tried to negate her worries by sharing a similar story of my own because just the day prior to that event, I had lost track of time and realized I was going to be late picking the kids up from school. In my haste, I threw on my husband’s pair of size ELEVEN slippers and darted out the door. Unfortunately, I had forgotten about the several errands that I had to run immediately after picking the kids up that day. So there I was…darting in and out of 2 grocery stores, 1 gas station, and the local Chamber of Commerce office in my husband’s SLIPPERS! And the worse part for me was that it was 3:30pm in the afternoon….I had all day to get myself ready and still managed to run out the door only prepared to be seen from the waist up!

So, to my favorite “front door” mom….I thank you sincerely for brightening my day with such a blog worthy story.

And rest assured that many of us are right there with you each morning…..presentable from the waist up and running just 5 minutes late!

Today I would like to write about my oldest son, Bailey.  We celebrated his 12th birthday just a couple of weeks ago and I have yet to take the time to pay homage to his birth.  Therefore, without further ado…I want to take a moment to reminisce about his birthday and the young man he is becoming.

My first child, Kylie, came into this world kicking and screaming after TWENTY hours of labor and an hour and half of pushing. So when the doctor told me that she was going to induce me with Bailey, I went into sheer panic mode.

I will never forget the night before his birth. I was sitting in the glider rocker placed in a corner of our small apartment living room, and I was sobbing. I don’t think up to that point, I had ever felt more scared of anything in my life. For me, the transition from having no children to one child was not nearly as difficult as the transition from one child to two. I was about to be outnumbered and I was terrified that I would not be able to handle it. There is only 17 months between my oldest two children so I really couldn’t wrap my brain around how I was going to manage a toddler and a newborn at the same time. I mean, what was going to happen when I need to go to the bathroom and they were both in need of my care????!!!! Seriously, these were the kinds of things I was fretting about while I rocked and cried hysterically all night in that chair. Looking back, I can laugh at my silly fears, but at the time…they were very real…and truly terrifying.

There was also the fear of labor and delivery that loomed in my heart that night. Being induced comes with the convenience of being completely “prepared” for the arrival of your new baby, but it also comes with the pesky knowledge that you are indeed going to push a child the size of a large watermelon out of a very small part of your body….and that moment will begin precisely at 6am tomorrow morning!

For me, ignorance is bliss! With my first pregnancy, I was induced as well, but I had no idea what I was in for. But this time around….no….this time I knew just how ugly labor and delivery could be, and I was paralyzed with fear over knowing how intense and painful the next day was going to be for me! So I sat rocking and crying and praying that God would just find a way to keep this child inside me indefinitely…or at least until Kylie was 10 years old when I wasn’t going to feel so outnumbered ( or so I thought).

But fortunately, God knew better than I did, and I was induced the next day. And I cannot even put into words what a different experience his birth was compared to my first go ‘round with labor and delivery. My labor went from 20 hours to 11 hours. My pushing went from an hour and a half to 15 minutes! My epidural was administered after 8 hours of labor with Bailey instead of 12 hours with Kylie. I specifically remember hearing the nurse say, “Look at you…you are so happy and smiling like you are not even in labor.”

She was right. I was smiling because what I did not know going into my son’s birth was that each labor and delivery is very unique even if that child is coming out of the same body. So just because my daughter needed to make her entrance into the world kicking and screaming….my son didn’t feel any need to put up a fight. He joined us at 7:54pm weighing in at 7lbs 13 oz and 21 inches long (my largest baby to date)!

So as I reflect on his birth, I see clearly that my baby boy is no longer such a baby. He is nearly a teenager and adds so much joy to our lives. It’s amazing to watch him slowly developing into a man, but what really moves me is how many personality traits he has possessed since day one showing me that in Bailey’s case…nature vs. nurture has done a fine job all on its own.

He always had a love for sports. From the moment he could grasp something in his tiny little hands, he wanted to hold onto a ball. From the moment he was steady enough to stand on his own two feet, he was dunking his basketball into a Little Tykes hoop. From the moment he could run, he was racing everyone and anyone down the street and back.

He has always had a love for all things sports related; he has always been as quick as lighting; he has always been the epitome of perpetual motion. Bailey has always been the child that after an entire weekend in a gym, playing several games of basketball asks, “What’s next, mom?” Just one more thing I have come to know, expect, and love about my son. Because as exhausting as his constant energy can be, it also comes with a zest for life that can only be seen through Bailey’s eyes.

Without exaggeration, he always has a smile on his face, a song in his heart, and a compassion for others that is to be admired and mimicked. I remember several times when he was young seeing other children using Bailey or treating him like a doormat. He would never understand my concern over these types of so-called “friends”. I would try and explain to him how he shouldn’t let people treat him poorly or let other kids walk all over him, and he would just look at me and say, “But he’s my friend”. My fear was that his tender heart and innocent way of looking at the world would hurt him in so many ways. And while I’m sure Bailey will have his share of heartbreak due to his trusting and loving nature, he has taught me that going through life on the defense is no way to live either.

So I have let go. I have let Bailey love the world and all that it has to offer him with reckless abandon. I have stepped back and stopped trying to change his outlook. I no longer want him to look at life through suspicious eyes, but rather love unconditionally as he does. Watching him love so willingly has taught me more about the way God wants us to live than I could ever teach him about life.

So with tears in my eyes and a love I have no words for…I would like to wish my son a very Happy Birthday! Bailey, you will forever make me proud to your mama!

Do you know that sinking feeling you get in the pit of your stomach sometimes or that lump in your throat when you need to cry but you are fighting back the tears??? That’s how I felt after reading a dear friend’s blog earlier this evening.

I call Ethel Mae Potter a dear friend and yet I’ve never even met her.  I know her purely by sharing a love of her writing with many, many other fans of hers.  Her writing style has such finesse and when she tells a story, it’s as vivid with details as a Thomas Kinkade portrait. I stumbled upon her blog after she posted a comment to one of my first posts, and we have been blogging “buddies” ever since.

Anyway, I read her most recent post and she is truly going through some rough times right now.  Financial worries for her aging parents, family members with addiction issues, and her own health is in question now over some seizures she has been experiencing for no apparent reason.  I sat for quite a while after reading her description of life as she knows it these days, and I wanted to weep for all that she is going through.  I can’t pretend to know what she’s feeling, as I have never battled cancer or had sudden seizures creep up on me.   I think all of us on some level can relate to worrying over our parents or financial struggles….and I definitely know what’s it’s like to live with a family member’s addiction, but to even try to claim I know how she feels would be a blatant lie.

So….for the first time in quite a while…..words failed me.  I wanted to post a comment on her site.  I wanted to offer her words of encouragement or say something that might lift her spirits.  But instead, I just sat there staring at my computer screen with tears welling up in my eyes.  I  just sat there praying to God that she is going to be ok because when I count my blessings each night, I thank God for this woman and the inspiration she has brought to my life with her words…with her honesty….with her beautiful, colorful,  rich stories.

In just the short time I have gotten to know her….as much as you can come to know a complete stranger who bares her soul for all the world to read….I pray that she will be well again soon.

I am firm believer in the old adage that all people come to us for a reason, a season, or for a lifetime.  And with Ethel Mae Potter….this world needs her for a lifetime!

It’s nearly Christmas and I always appreciate how this time of year seems to make all of us just a bit more cognizant of our blessings.  I love to look back over the year and reflect on all we have achieved and experienced over the past 365 days.  I relish the rewards of our hard work, thank God for the struggles that only brought our family closer together and made us stronger than before, and I always pause in awe of all the blessings I have to be grateful for.

I’ve always been the type who never feels worthy enough of such gifts from God.  Every year my life seems to get better and better….and I have to ask God, “Why me?”  I just don’t understand what I have ever done to deserve such immeasurable good fortune.

Anytime something goes wrong in my life…anytime we hit a rough patch in the road or things feel like they are falling apart….those are the times I seem to understand the most.  I never question “why me” during the difficult times.  It always seems crystal clear as to why I need to struggle….what I’ve done wrong to deserve such strife.

But the good times….the gifts like my amazing husband, wonderful children, loving parents, and true friends….those are the blessings that I just can’t wrap my brain around. Why do I get to experience such overwhelming joy?

Why am I so blessed to have found my soul mate when there are so many other lonely people in this world?

Why do I get to watch my children grow into amazing young men and women when there are parents every day that have to watch their children suffer and die from illness?

Why am I given the gift of good health when so many other much more deserving people out there do not have the same blessings?

So as I ponder the last year of my life….as I reflect upon my numerous blessings….I am brought to my knees in gracious thanksgiving for all that God has brought to my world….both the good and the bad!

I pray as well that this holiday season finds you all happy, healthy, and full of God’s grace.

Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year to all!