Easter Runaway

Easter 2011

We had one little one that didn't really want his picture taken.

(Ok, well, all of them didn't really want their picture taken, but he was the only one who dared cross this mother.)

The bow tie sewing experience turned out to be a lot less painful, and time consuming than the last time I made them. I don't know why sewing gives me anxiety. Might have something to do with this internal guilt I carry from 8th grade sewing class where I didn't finish my final skirt project because of my countless failed attempts at putting in a zipper. I can still see that purple material in one hand and that purple zipper in another.

I hate the word zipper.

I love the word velcro.

Yes, I did it again.

Yes, I did.

I started something I promised myself I would "NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER" do again.

(Apparently, I'm not very good at keeping promises.)

Here's a little sneak peek.

If I survive without killing myself or someone else, I will post pictures.

Promise.

(Although, I may not be very good at keeping promises.)

Mmmmm

My main man was out west last week helping his mom while she went through some surgery. I was here living it up with the boys during spring break in Cleveland. Yes, it snowed. Yes, I was jealous that I couldn't be out west visiting family too.

BUT

The jealousy didn't last long when he brought home a big bag of these.

Chocolate Covered Cinnamon Bears

They may or may not have lasted less than 48hrs.

Crazy Woman Here

My life these days feels an awful lot like this picture. Swamped by the daily grind.

This winter got to me. I feel like I say that every year. This year, I really mean it. Feeling a lack of motivation coupled with three little boys full of cabin fever is not a great combination.

It's a good thing these boys have such a great dad. He understands them in ways I never will. One day we were driving in the car and the boys were in the back making boy noises, you know, super hero noises, car noises, ninja noises, etc. It's so foreign to me. I have nothing from my own youth to relate to this. My husband just smiled and understood them.

First time filling out brackets with the boys. They were SO sad when their team lost. There were even some tears shed.

We found the disneyland jar thief. We are trying to save up to get the boys to disneyland before they are teenagers. :)

We have one little one not quite as committed to the cause.

I found handfuls of change in each of his side pockets. Should I be concerned?

And Now, A Love Story

When I was little I would fantasize about my knight in shining armor. He would be PERFECT. He would only think about my needs....always. He would know my thoughts, (ahem- know how to read my mind). He would bring me flowers at all the hallmark holidays, and all the "just because" times too.

I definitely didn't want to grow old and be boring fuddy duddies like my parents, who, from my perspective didn't really love each other that much, because they didn't kiss and hold hands all the time, like people in love should do.

Then I grew up.

Then reality set in.

Then I saw life from a different set of eyes.

Adult eyes.

I remembered my parents. My juvenile judgment about what true love really was, caused me shame. For, in the years since I met my own prince charming (Who, by the way, isn't perfect, does not ONLY think about my needs 24/7, and doesn't read minds.), I have come to know the meaning of true love.

True love is caring for others more than self.

True love is about learning how to be selfless.

I watched this in my parents marriage. I watched my dad put aside his own desires, wants, and needs, to help my sick mother. He came home from work each day and got right to work at home making her burden lighter. (True love, that my teenage eyes didn't know.)

I woke up early Saturday morning, with a strong pain in my lower back and was terribly sick all weekend long. A kidney infection that left me with chills and sweats, a loss of appetite, and my body prone on the couch. Knocked on my can, I was. My husband spent the weekend caring for my needs, and the needs of our 3 crazy boys. He did the dishes, cleaned the house, fixed meals for the boys, got them ready and took them to church, picked up my medicine, got some movies for me--just because, drew me a bath, went to the store, practiced piano with the boys, and much more. Without me asking.

You see, Friday night he told me he needed to go to work on Saturday because he had so much stuff due this coming week. Not going to work on Saturday for him surely means a stressful Monday.

My husband gave me the best Valentine gift ever. Not roses, not fancy stuff.

Just himself.

Happy Valentines Day

I Was Right

Nine days

and

Three doctors

later......

It turns out that I was right all along. I KNEW something was wrong. I KNEW he had a broken bone. I just needed someone to believe me.

Why did I allow myself to question my gut instinct? Poor guy was in unnecessary pain for WAY too long.

Now that ALL three boys have had at least one (or two) broken bones, I'm hoping that I've reached my mom quota and won't have to deal with this again. :)

Well, one can always hope, right?

Cleveland in February

Want to know how I feel about life when it's February in Cleveland?

Yep. That's about right.

It's snowing right now and I have cabin fever.

Thinking thoughts of sunny summer days at the pool.....