for sale

The contents of our home have been purged (thank you mom and dad for all of your help), the exterior shined up a bit and the sign is hanging by the mailbox at the driveway entrance. It's official! We're beginning the journey to Colorado.

Today I was faced with an unexplainable emotional outburst that I struggled to explain to my boys. Prior to picking them up from school I got the call that someone wanted to see the house within the hour. I frantically rushed around picking lint out of the corners of the rooms and threw things into hiding in the washer, dryer and oven. After picking the boys up from school, I instructed them of their every move for the next 30 minutes when we reached home. They executed their moves beautifully and we (I) sat and waited the final 10 minutes in fitful anticipation of the "lookers" arrival.

The car pulled in and we immediately headed to our stations in the car. Myself dragging annoying barking dog on her leash to her coveted spot in the front passenger seat. Our eyes met...they seemed the perfect candidates...young, pregnant, country (this is a politically correct description of someone wearing camouflage as regular dress). I climbed into the car and started down the driveway chanting, "They'd be perfect!" "They'd be perfect!" ... when suddenly I burst into tears!

Both boys immediately wanted to know why I was crying? Why was I crying? It felt an enormous jumble of emotions...anxiety, happiness, fear, PMS...lots of PMS today...and anticipation. I tried to calm their worries. I tried to explain. Finally, I asked, "Have you ever felt like you have many different emotions happening all at once?"

To which J replied, "No, it's a girl thing." Guess I have my work cut out.

My own take on things. This is and will be a bittersweet process. One girlfriend mentioned that it tends to be hard to leave the home where your children were born. We did put some sweat and tears into this place. Today, I guess I realized that occasionally you have to take a few steps back in order to move forward. Here's to that dance!

bad guys and fancy houses

As usual the boys and I were having a deep philosophical conversation in the car today. (Try as I may to sit on the couch, cuddle in bed or discuss these things around the dinner table...they never bite! For some reason riding in the car stirs up the great recesses of their minds...) Anyhow....J started asking about life cycles and would the world be around as we know it in the future. I began the delicate conversation about heaven and hell.

Suddenly, B asked if daddy had any real guns. "Why?", I asked. "For the bad guys", replied B, "So he could get any that might come to our house". "Oh no," quipped J, "bad guys only go to fancy houses, they won't come to our house, there's no stuff for them to get there..."

Well, I know I'll sure be sleeping better tonight...knowing the bad guys are passing me by for the 'fancy houses'.

dear bitter retired person,

I'm sorry that life has left you sad and bitter. Especially toward children. Initially, I was highly irritated at your disguisted looks toward my children pushing the cart at the grocery store. My dander was raised when you rolled your eyes toward my darlings as they stood paralyzed at the wonders of an entire aisle of fruity, sugar filled cereal...eager to put at least a half dozen boxes in our cart. I never allow them to run amok. They never run through the store screaming. As much as they would like, they are not allowed to practice their latest and greatest wrestling moves in the middle of produce; because you see...they are learning!

The truth is I am desperately trying to educate them in respectful, proper behavior at heavily traffiked shopping establishments. I could keep them away, always shopping alone, until they were at a most respectful age of say...21. However, what would they learn? How will they learn to negotiate ankle biting grocery carts, canes, and the ubiquitous motorized cart? How will I be able to train them to always keep their eyes open, analyzing how to negotiate the guantlet of each and every aisle? How will I be able to train them to be respectful of all human beings unless I am out and about amongst the masses?

I don't pretend to know the hardships that life has tossed you; and I know there can and have been many difficulties. But please, can you for one brief moment, reflect back to those times when your children were young? or perhaps even to your own youth? The excitement, enthusiasm...the energy. The world is such an incredible place for a child. There is so much to see, to experience. Can you catch a glimpse of the innocence in their faces? Catch the whimsy in the lilt of their laughter? Listen. Embrace it. Don't bar yourself against it. They are not here to create discord in your life. Instead, they are here to show us all the simple joy of life.

Life is short. You know that all too well. Please don't leave this earth having wasted energy being bitter toward a young mother and her children. They could be such a gift in what might be such a bleak and difficult day. Stop. Be patient. Admire the life...enjoy.

P.S. If you still find children annoying might I suggest you do your shopping at 10:00 am....most children are at school and therefore not available to make your life miserable!

new word

B is always coming up with new twists on old words. It makes me smile every time I hear him use these "new" words passionately!

B tends to be our dramatic one...I know...we can only figure out where he inherited the drama from. His favorite line to use when ever I ask him to clean up his toys is "I had a really hard day". This is delivered with the full downcast body language and sadness in his voice. Early in the game I had, of course, comforted him and asked him specifically about his day. Bingo! He now knew how to distract me...but it didn't last for long. My current response is, "I'm sorry, I know, I had a hard day too! Pick up your toys!"

Recently he has decided to try a new approach. When asked to do something A and I heard, rather emphatically, "Everyone wants to make me their SLAVE-IOR!" Yes, slave-ior...slave and savior. A and I busted up.

To be honest I feel like my family's slave-ior on a daily basis. It does however, tend to make me stop and think everytime I'm feeling overwhelmed with the day to day drudgery of running a house. Yes, at times I feel like a slave...but in truth at what point in my serving my family am I truly showing my Savior's love for my family. It can in fact change the posture of my heart when I'm feeling "slave-ish".

So to all the "slave-iors" out there keep up the good work. You may feel your work goes unnoticed...but us fellow "slave-iors" silently raise our hand to honor you!

P.S. I'm trying to come up with a good definition to submit to Webster's Dictionary for consideration of a new word. We'll see how far I get.