Monday, September 5, 2011


I hate my cell phone. Or I hate cell phone problems. Maybe both. A few months ago my phone stopped taking a charge. It was the first phone I bought "new" in probably 6 years. It was a year old or so, ancient in cell phone years. They go faster than Dog years. I usually just wait for a hand me down from my sisters' or someone. I spent a long time searching on E bay for a phone that would work for my plan, was NOT a smart phone because I don't/won't pay for data on my phone and was inexpensive cause I am cheap like that. I polled friends (well...April) to see if she thought it was a good one and finally decided to purchase my new-used phone.

I liked it! Bright red! Easy to work-I learned my way around it pretty easily. It was the first phone I have had that had a full keyboard. It took me a bit to get used to it but I was really pleased with my new-used phone!

Cayde really liked it too! One day he pretended it was a boat and set it out to sea in the toilet. (For the love of all things HOLY!!!!!) It was about a month old. (Several cell-phone-years old!) *Sigh*

So I went back to square one, searching ebay and sorting though the lame dealers who post tons of phones on ebay from a store to get you to sign up for a contract. We already have a contract! So I found another phone. I hate it. I have had it a couple of months now. It's a smart phone. (Or a really stupid phone.) Everyone else who looks at it agrees. I got a lot of 'Oh just let me look at it's" at first which turned to furrow brow looks and the smart/dumb phone was quickly returned to me.

I am really not the picky about phones. I am always happy with whatever hand me down phone I get. lol. This one has all sorts of weird/quirky/lame (choose your own adventure) features. So....I don't like it. (I also don't like that my mother leaves me mass quantities of voice mails.)

Tonight I was talking to my sister Terah:

Terah: Is something wrong with your phone?
Me: voice mail is full.....? So, yeah if you consider that as something wrong, there is.
Terah: Yeah, you're gonna need to fix that.
Me: Oh, yeah I don't plan to listen to them.
Terah: What? *laughing*
Me: Just text me.
Terah: Well I did just upgrade to unlimited texts.
Me: Excellent!! Problem solved!

Then at her house tonight:
Me: Can I use your phone to call Wayne? (I called and he did not pick up)

Terah: Call Jacob...see if he answers. he didn't answer me earlier when I called him after I called you.
Me: hmm. All of our phones were dead. Oh. Wait. Didn't I talk to you?
Terah: Yeah. you called me back...which is a rare occurrence.

Snarky I tell you! LOL

Anyway, I guess I am rebelling against the cell phone.

Also, Cayde is so lucky he is a beautiful child. Cause boy is he a trouble maker!

Friday, March 11, 2011


Porter just hopped down from the table where he and Cayde have been enjoying their well prepared snack of fruit cocktail and pronounces quite calmly, "I do not like childrens."

My eyebrows raised just a touch. I couldn't help it. "You don't like children?"

Porter clarified,"Well I don't like one children."

I tried really hard not to chuckle! "What one children do you not like?"

Stabbing his finger repeatedly in Cayde's direction, "I do not like the children, Cayde."

"Oh you don't?"

"He throws things."

He then pronounced he was no longer his friend. We chatted about how of course they were still friends and I was pretty sure he sill liked and loved him. But boy...I can relate.

I don't like childrens (hehe) who make messes.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Days of Daycare.

This lady just walked up and looked right into our big living room window. We made eye contact and she got freaked out. The town home next to us is empty and i figured she was looking, or trying to look at IT.

I chuckled a bit and went out to talk to her and her friend. I invited them in to see the layout. They saw our MASSIVE pile of girls scout cookies and asked to buy some. Yeah!

Porter was down stairs with me and I called Allori down to sell her cookies. She is home sick...again....poor girl. The nice ladies asked if I ran a daycare. Boy does it feel like it! Hahaha. funny, right?

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Scavenger Hunt

On Wednesdays we are building a little tradition that I L-O-V-E, love! My lovely husband loads up the car with all three little kids and Jacob and heads to boyscouts. Wayne and the little kids play ball or walk around the church or some such activity while Jacob is in his scout meeting. Meanwhile, mom enjoys the quite of the house.

I relax. I listen to the quiet. I smile a lot. I rejuvenate.

Then my brood comes home and I give kisses, one of them (it was Porter tonight) crawls into bed with me and we cuddle and laugh at the crazy American Idol contestants, and tear up at the ones with a story who want it so badly.

The few perfect moments with Porter tonight will carry me through the hard days this week. He has these moments of perfect serenity. They are few and far between but each one is so precious. I know I was born to be his mother.

I asked Wayne to please go to Wal Mart while Jacob was in his meeting. If I only need an item or two, it really is better for Wayne to go. He (generally) will get the items I need and nothing more. Me? I go into the store for 4 items and load the basket half full. The printer is out of ink and I have some copies to make for girl scouts.

Also, Porter who at one time, not so long ago had a drawer full of undies (no exaggeration, he had over 30 pairs) now seems to struggle to find a pair each day. We do not let laundry pile up so they are not in teh dirty clothes. So odd! I know the sock gobbler gets the socks, but who the heck has thieved 25 pairs of undies? Hmm? Tell me that!

So after Wayne pronounces that he will go to Wal Mart for ONE item, I add undies to the list and socks in both boys' sizes. Four items. I contemplated adding two more items but thgouth 4 was really all I could expect. The man WAS taking all three hooligans into Wal Mart all by his lonesome.

He comes home with 2 items. A package of socks and a package of underwear. He shows me that the socks say 18 months to 3T so technically they should work for both boys. Hmm. OK. No printer ink. Darn it!

This was not a fun game to see if you could do it or a scavenger hunt, where you had the option to stop hunting. Seriously. I needed those things. Second, if the store did not have the item, you might call me and ask a question or two. I realize this violates the I-ask-nothing-cause-I-TARZAN-er-am-a-man rule that you have so committed your life to, and committed to it you ARE! but please...please....

However, the blissful quiet of the evening...somehow makes it all ok! (Thank you husband!)*

Porter immediately asks me to open the undies. It is bedtime so i ask why he would like the open.

"To play with them!"

Of course...I do not know why I even asked. lol

*Not that he will ever read that. But i did thank him in person also. lol

Friday, January 7, 2011

Smart Tart

Today Allori and I went to the cookie kick off for girl scouts. i picked up two of the girls and the others met us there. Now, I am not really a "kid" person. But can I tell you, I just love these girls. They are smart and funny and every single one is cute as a button.

On our way there, Allori was explaining the three ways to spell too (to, two) to the other girls. They were playing a spelling game. So funny! They are five and six. Smart kids I tell ya.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

People are being killed.

So this story is super funny. Well it was to me. I am finally getting to, or taking the time to blog about it-you know since my sabbatical is over. LOL

Virginia Beach is a serious military town. We have an exuberant number of military families here. I would wage a guess that AT LEAST 50% of Virginia Beach families have an active duty member of the military in them. Isn't that amazing?

Anyway keep that in mind as I tell my story.

We walk into church a few months ago and sit down. This is an ordeal in itself with 3 children under six. We are getting ourselves settled and were saying hello to a lovely couple behind us when a girl of about 8 walks up to them with a little collection box and says, "I am collecting money for Afghanistan. People are being killed there."

Now, the four adults who heard, all paused-none of us spoke for a moment. the man in the couple behind us reached into his pocket for change and gave her some. She walked away. All of us still looking a little confused....until the wife behind us, who is so lovely and soft spoken says, "Yeah, honey...people in Afghanistan are DYING. If YOU GUYS would stop KILLING them she would not need to collect money for them."

It broke the ice, we all chuckled and made some silly jokes...

It seemed really out of place to have someone collect money for people being hurt in the war FROM people engaged in the war. It struck me as really ironic and a bit crazy honestly.

No one wishes them hurt of course and now that I have had more time to think about it, I am less stunned and can see more the good deed she was trying to accomplish.

Saturday, December 18, 2010


Mothering is an incredible and amazing job. It is an honor.

I have had the fortunate experience of mothering many children.

My sisters are twins and they were premature. One of them came home from the hospital after a week long stay. I can picture the 70's brown rough feeling couch that I was sitting on and I can see the layout of the room, where the small tv sat on a little table. I remember it was a bright sunshiney day when my parents placed that beautiful baby in my tiny four year old arms. As they placed this miniature baby, our new miracle, into my arms, they reminded me that my other sister would be coming home soon. I remember the gigantic smile that filled my face as I held that baby and looking at my parents and said, "One for you and one for me." I felt such a bond with my sisters right from the very beginning.

As life worked out for us, I was very much their caregiver right from the beginning. I still feel, 30 years later that they were my first babies. I feel so proud when they accomplish things and so protective of them. I ache for them when they hurt and I celebrate with them when they accomplish things, birth their babies, and the like much like a mother does.

I have not always been a perfect sister but I have always loved them with a perfect love.

Six years ago, I birthed my first child. That moment changed my everything, as becoming a mother changes every woman. I would forever be a mother from that moment. One can never explain to someone else just how it feels to birth a baby, to know that God created life through you, that your body is so very powerful.

When Allori was a year and a half or so, Wayne and I felt it was a good opportunity to start doing foster care. We had talked at length about it and timing was good. After many hours of training, heaps of paperwork and references from everyone we had ever known and background checks in every state we had ever lived in (I do not exaggerate) we welcomed our first two foster children into our home.

When foster children are delivered to your home, you are generally given very little information and no supplies. These sisters came in the middle of the night. Juliana, the older sister had on a too large pair of sweat pants. Nothing else. Jena had on a diaper and a too large-very filthy t-shirt. It was the middle of the night. They had just been scared out of their wits. Somehow they fell asleep in the police car and I carried them to bed. They woke up in a strangers home. No one told us they spoke Spanish, but not English. The first word that Juliana said to me was, "Bano." (Banyo) She said it several times over the course of a half hour or so. I finally called Wayne and asked what it meant. "TAKE HER TO THE BATHROOM!" LOL

They had a great father. Well. He became great. We knew they would be going home at some point. He worked very hard to learn to be a good father. He became a part of our family. But I tell you, when we packed them up and loaded their belongings into their father's truck, I wept like a baby. After a year, I was their mother. I was the only mother they remembered. The mother they loved. The mother who loved them. I wept. I was sad but I was grateful to have been their mother for a while. And I was grateful that they were going home to a safe place.

Twelve foster children later the knock at the door brought the cutest little curly haired boy ever! We fell in love with him. We never intended to adopt although we were open to it. That was not our goal in doing foster care. We wanted to provide a safe home to children while their parents learned to be better parents for them. We knew with this little boy's history that he very well may be adoptable at some point. He is now a part of my forever family.

Eighteen months ago I birthed my third child. This boy, who I "knew" was going to be a girl has surprised and delighted us (and driven us mad!) every step of the way. After he got home from his four month hospital stay I told him that he had given me my first silver hair and he had scared and worried me enough to last his whole life through and that I expected his toddler and teenage years to be a breeze - that I had already put in more than his share of worry and prayers and such. Fourteen months later I have discovered/remembered that our trials simply prepare us for what is to come. This little tyke will be providing many more silver hairs and promises to give me a run for my money/energy/patience, etc. etc. etc.

A few months ago my sister, Terah had her first baby. My sweet little Porter called Terah's belly by the babies name for months. He would gently hold her tummy and talk to "Madison." When Madi was born I was explaining to him that the baby had come out of her tummy and asked if he remembered when mama had a baby in her tummy?


"Who was in mama's tummy?"


It was Cayde of course that I was referring to. I absolutely love that Porter thinkt he grew in my tummy. I am sure at some point we will have to address that but for now I love it. I have worried about making sure that he feels as loved as our other children, that he feel just as much a part of this family as every other member. Looks like we are doing ok so far.

I feel so very grateful to be a be Porter's mother and also to be a mother to these precious babies and to have had the opportunity to mother so many children. It is the most challenging job I have ever had. The pay is terrible but the benefits are to die for.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for all these babies you have blessed me with.