Merry Christmas, 2014!

From our family to yours, we hope that your Christmas is full of warm embraces, happy homes and stuffed bellies! This season is all about celebrating love and life and family, and we're definitely thankful for all of the above...Merry Christmas!!

Spring Photos '14

After a few weekends of bad weather and then busy last-minute plans, we finally got ourselves together and got our photos taken! Stephanie, our resident family photographer, came down and chased us around our yard and little church next door, and we got some decent shots. 

I say "decent" because my two of my children, who need not be named as evidenced below, are so not into having their picture taken. To capture a smile from them on camera is akin to capturing photos of bigfoot -- it doesn't happen, and when it does, it's probably a conspiracy behind camera. 

But nevertheless, this is our family, our six pack, as we live and breathe and in total 100% honesty, flaws and all. At least we have some photos to look back on, and laugh about, for years to come. 

'Til next time! 

And my favorite family photo of the day, even though RJ has her eyes half-closed and Jaxon looks mad as hell and poor Toby isn't even aware of what's going on. 

Still my favorite, my family in a nutshell!

And from last spring to this spring -- Justin hates doing these "walk away" corny shots, but I love them, especially now that I have two to compare side-by-side. 

Some < Others

Some nights, I "fail"* at being a good mother.

Some nights my kids eat cereal. Some nights homework doesn't get done. Some nights they go to bed with dirty faces wearing the day's dirty clothes.

Some nights the house is left in a worse mess than the night before. 

Some nights the laundry is piled four feet deep. Some nights the dirty dishes don't even make it to the sink.

Some nights there are fights. There are stories that don't get read to babies. There are kisses that go unkissed. There is anger and hurt and tears.

Some nights there is nothing to do but hide and cry in the bedroom. Don't let them see your tears of frustration and anger.

Some nights there are tired bodies bumping into each other in crowded hallways. There are words spit with venom. There are "I hate yous" and "I really hate yous". 

Some nights are, for lack of a better word, complete and total shit.

But, for every one of those "some nights", there are other nights.

Other nights dinner is done and done right and done on time. There are full bellies and warm bodies.

Other nights homework is finished and books are read. There are clean jammies and freshly washed faces. 

Other nights the laundry gets (mostly) caught up and the dishwasher is loaded. The house gets straightened.

Other nights there is kissing and hugging and loving. There are moments hidden from little eyes and extra "I love yous" and moments for momma and poppa.

Other nights, in fact most nights, are divine in their simplicity and imperfection. Other nights are the norm and the good and the reason we can make it through some nights that are hard.

Tonight, I am my grateful for the nights when I don't "fail"* at motherhood. I live through the some nights so I can love the others.

*None of us really fail at this motherhood thing; we're all bumbling fools just doing our best to keep our little humans alive!*

4

Four peas in a pod.

Four unique beings tied by the strings of my heart. I created these little humans (with a little help from my husband, if I must give credit where credit is due!) - I grew them within me. I felt them move for the first time, felt their hiccups. I labored with them, delivered them safely into this great big world with all the wishes and hopes and dreams a momma can have for her babies. 

Four times over I was lucky enough to create life, to deliver life, to nourish a dream into reality. 

My four. The final four. 

"...and I am young,  yes, but what I have learned is that love, the beauty of it, the joy of it, and yes, even the pain of it, is the most incredible gift to give and to receive as a human being. And we deserve to experience love fully, equally, without shame and without compromise.
There are too many kids out there suffering from bullying, rejection, or simply being mistreated for who they are.
Too many dropouts.
Too much abuse.
Too many homeless and
Too many suicides.
You can change that..."

Tonight, for the first time, I looked down at you and felt that lump rise into my throat. I felt the tears sting at my eyes, and I recognized in an instant that old familiar feeling - love.

Tonight, I fell in love with you. 

Just an ordinary night, sitting on the couch, holding you while you slept on my chest. And yet, there it was. There it happened again. Once more, my heart grew and you fell into the place waiting for you. 

I don't know if it's me or if other mommas experience these kinds of moments, too - but I know enough about myself as a mother to recognize the difference between loving your child unconditionally from day one versus falling in love with your children over and over again as they grow. 

I have loved you, my boy, from the moment I found out I was pregnant.

But tonight, I fell in love with you for the first time. Tonight, you made your way to me - from an unexpected, unplanned miracle to a fuzzy, warm babe in my arms. You found me, and I found you. And I didn't think I could love another boy the way I do your father and brother, yet you've proven me wrong already.

 Little Toby, I love you. Thank you for being the best surprise of my life.

Just a Friendly Reminder

Human is human.
Equal is equal.
Love is love.

The sooner we put aside all of the things we use to "define" ourselves into separate groups, the sooner we can come together as human beings and just exist in this world.

Why can't we have love for our fellow men and women, without labels or judgment or damnation?

Why can't we all have our own opinions, different as they will be, and still just get along. I don't agree you with. I don't believe as you do.

That's okay, the world still keeps spinning.

Why do we insist on spending so much time fighting each other all in the name of defending our opinions or beliefs? It's exhausting - to me, it'd be so much easier just to love one another. Or at the very least, to respect one another enough to not stand in judgment of one another.

Love is love is love.

And who could stand to deny another person of love?

Not me.

{via}

RE: THIS

S'MORE

Ten years ago today, on a chilly night after a football game, I kissed that boy of mine in the backseat of my grand-parent's handicapped van. I kissed him and I meant it. And I've meant every kiss from that night 'til now. 

It's that day of the year -- the day I wax poetic about the love I have for my husband and how he's the best of the best and there'll never be another man for me. 

And all that's true, for sure. 

And lord knows I love to ramble on and on about the lovey dovey things in life. 

But I'm not going to -- not today. Not too much, at least. 

Today, four years ago, I stood in front family and friends and vowed to be married to my husband for better or worse. And I meant it. And he meant it, too. So here we are, four years later, keeping the vows we promised to each other and to our loved ones. And through it all -- the best of the better and the worst of the worse -- we have loved each other. From last year's anniversary to today's, there have been quite a few uphill/downhill moments for us. But I know now, more than I ever knew before, that I am so loved. I am safe in my marriage. I am undeservingly blessed with a husband who loves me, and I honestly don't think I could rid myself of him if I tried. Not that I'd ever want to -- Justin is as much a part of me as my hand or heart. He's not an extension of me but rather the completing piece. It's that simple and that complicated. 

And I said I wasn't going to ramble, so I'm stopping. Right now. Promise. 

Happy anniversary, babe. Thank you for this life you've created with me. 

Here's to all that we kissed, And all that we missed To the biggest mistakes, That we just wouldn't trade To us breaking up, Without us breaking down To whatever's comin' our way - here's to us :)

Two Girls, One Heart

For sisters that don't really look anything alike, these two have turned out to be the best of friends ... watching their relationship blossom has been one of the biggest rewards of parenting for me. 

I've watched them transition from a nervous, but gentle, big sister watching lovingly over her newborn sister -- to a roaming baby who insisted on following her big sister everywhere, crawling while she tucked that one leg up underneath her, just like her big sister used to do -- to a nosy toddler who wants all the toys her big sister has in her hands at the exact moment she picks them up -- to two little girls who are learning to play together and really look out for one another. 

It's been just amazing. Of course, they have their moments. There is yelling and crying and hair-pulling. But in all honesty, they are few and far between. 

If Rhealen gets hurt or gets in trouble, she will crawl into Sidney's arms, Sidney will hold her chest-to-chest, and rub her back. She whispers to her and doesn't move until Rhealen is ready to get back up. It's the most achingly tender thing I've ever witnessed. 

They really do love each other -- I don't know why I find that so surprising -- and it just makes me so happy for them. This sisterly bond is such a blessing to watch unfold, I feel like the luckiest momma in the world. 

Two very different looks. Two distinct personalities. Two little girls. 

One heart between the two of them. 

[Take Care]

The moments I really feel something hit me hard in the face and heart and knock me over with such force, there's no possible way to ignore them. 

I have general feelings constantly. I generally feel happy. I generally feel loved. I generally feel anxious. But to truly feel an emotion, in the heat of a moment without warning or delay, is blinding. 

I love my kids, love them all day, every day and will continue to love them 'til the day I die. But there are moments when I look at them and love them so hard, it psychically pains me. In those moments, I'm reminded of a million reasons why I love being a mother, why being a mother has made me a better human, and why I'd shrivel up and fade away without these three in my life. 

Sure, I could have taken a different path in life -- a path that led me to never being a mother. That life sometimes beckons to me -- a carefree, reckless spirit that taunts me, tries to tell me I've missed out on so much living by being a young mother. I get jealous of the part of the me that never even existed, and I begin to resent my surroundings. I daydream of a life without all these responsibilities and demands, without sleepless nights and screaming babies. I dream of, for lack of a better word, freedom. 

And then I see my children, these three innocent beings that took the best parts of me and my husband, and magically came to in a world of hope and love. I see them laugh and smile and play and hold each other. I see them whispering and touching noses, sharing inside jokes and creating a world around them made only for three. They love each other, so fiercely, and take care of each other, a sentiment I've been preaching to them lately. 

Some day, your daddy and I won't be here -- you have to take care of each other, always. 

I see my children and I love them, and it hits me like a wave, these emotions come over me -- I feel guilty for ever feeling anything but contentment and joy. I resent myself for resenting myself. I stop and thank every star in the sky, because I am so lucky -- there are so many mothers out there with empty arms, and here my home and heart are full three times over.

I take joy in falling in love with my children, over and over again. In between the routine and the pitfalls and the everyday grind, I am blessed to feel deeply for them at the most spontaneous and unexpected moments. I know there will come a day when I take them for granted again, when I pine for a life that I wasn't meant to live. But deep down, I know -- I will always love my life. I will always love my children. And I will always love the feeling that comes over me when I fall in love with them again. And again and again and again...

Rhealen Jo 1.9

My sweet, sweet, sassy little Rhealen Jo - this child right here. You know that old saying about how your own kids are payback for the way you treated your parents? I am raising Justin's punishment, let me tell you right now. She is spitfire and spunk, all packaged into the most adorable blonde-haired, blue-eyed, petite little body! Girl child has no fears: except meeting new people. She's not much of a social butterfly, but she's growing into her own more and more each day. 

She knows dozens of words but often prefers to grunt like a caveman or babble incoherently - Justin and I have a running joke calling her "Lassie" as she'll often run into the room and start jibbering away excitedly, then turn and run out. All it took was Justin saying, "What is it, girl? Little Timmy's in the well?" and there you have it. Lassie. 

I was so nervous when we first brought Jaxon home that she'd be a rambunctious ball of jealous nerves and take all her anger out on him, but she's never once shown any ill will towards that boy. She loves him, dubbed him "Jaxie" and has learned to greet him with a sweet little, "Hi! Buddy!", which comes out sounding like a line from Encino Man. 

I know there was a time when I felt a little lost holding my RJ - I couldn't catch my emotions, and I felt so guilty not being able to love her the way I wanted to. Those moments, that fear feels so far away now. My heart is so full of this little girl, it physically aches. She can be rotten and mean and completely irrational as toddlers are wont to be, but that doesn't stop the light from shining out of her. Even in those moments when she is screaming bloody murder, down on the floor kicking and thrashing, she still has something endearing about her - maybe it's impossible to be mad at something so little being so alive. Her personality definitely doesn't match up with her body, but it just adds to the elements of surprise that make her so special. 

Sometimes I wonder what it's going to be like for her being the second girl and middle child - both are stereotypes that will certainly be forced upon her, willingly or not. I can only hope she feels equal in my love, safe in my arms, and at home with her place in this little family of ours. 

As she approaches her second birthday, RJ is still pretty dependent on her blanket and her paci. I don't have the heart (or want) to take them away from her, because they're only little for a short time, and I'm not one to   deny my babies the simple little pleasures in life. There'll be time for that later on. (So, yes, I still even give her a bottle! I promise to quit by her second birthday!) Her favorite cartoon is still Spongebob, she loves sweet tea with a passion, dogs and cows are her favorite animals, and there's nothing better in the world than bathtime with her big sister. 

Short, sweet, and simple - that's our Rhealen Jo.

Photos by: Pam Burke Photography

Sidney Morgan 5.6

Five (and one-half!) years old! I honestly can't believe it. We've been talking about birthdays a lot lately -Justin will have his at the end of the month- and she knows precisely how old everyone is going to be this year.

How old will Daddy be? 26.

How old will Mommy be? 25.

How old will you be? 6.

How old will Rhealen be? 2. 

How old will Jaxon be? 1, but not 'til next year. 

She's so smart, so incredibly smart it boggles my mind sometimes. She's ranked #2 in the Accelerated Reader program out of the entire kindergarten class. My kid?! Totally my kid (of course my kid, look who we're talking about here, I was always the kindergartner on the beanbag reading instead of going outside to play!) She's such a lover of learning and of school; even on the days she whines about getting up in the mornings, I know once she's at school, she's home. This is a girl who enjoys rules and rewards, and seeing as how she's been in a school-building pretty much from day one, I don't think I'll ever have a problem getting her excited about learning. 

She still has a mess of hair, thick as molasses and untameable as the sea. I do my best to keep a comb running through it and to keep it out of her eyes. Other than that, I'm lost. She insists on keeping it long (and growing it even longer) even though she hates having it brushed and will still act as if you're pulling her bald with every brushstroke. 

She's lost both of her bottom front teeth since my last update (back in November, funny enough she's wearing the same shirt!) and is so glad that one of her big-girl teeth is starting to grow back in - she says it's hard to bite an apple with her teeth missing! She has big plans for summer: swimming at the lake and the pool, going to the beach, driving the boat, having sleepovers, and staying up as late as she wants to just because she can! 

There are a million and one funny, little moments with her - like the way she calls the movie "Once Upon a Forest"/"Way Back in the Club"! Who knows where she gets these things?! As tiring as she can be, as whiny as she can be, as stubborn as she can be -she's also so much more. More thoughtful, more fun, more loving.

She has been, and will always be, my first baby. The first great love of my life, who opened my heart and taught me what it really means to love unconditionally. There was a time when it was just me and her, and I had hours upon hours to soak up each moment and reflect on every aspect of every feeling I had for her. Now, with three kids demanding my time, my emotions can get a little lost on the way to the surface. But they're always there, and I do my damnedest to let her know I love her so much. I am so grateful for her, and so lucky that she came into my life nearly six years ago. She made me a mother and continues to make me a better mother every day. Sure, I stumble and fall, but she picks me up. She reminds me of just how far I've come already...and helps me see there are still great distances we can go together.

Photos by: Pam Burke Photography

When It Hits You, Then It Hits You

I could complain about how he drives me crazy, how his nagging and nit-picking push me to the brink of sanity. I could whine that he's unfair sometimes, inflexible. He doesn't know how to roll with the changes or fall into a new routine easily. He's so different from me sometimes, we're like two opposite puzzle pieces trying to make it work together.

I could say he's grumpy and moody. He has a way of crawling under my skin like no one else. He can push every button I've got and make me cry in two minutes. He can annoy me. Hurt my feelings. Make me want to tear my hair out.

But I love him. And he's here with me.

It shouldn't take someone else's loss to remind me that what I have is precious. And fleeting. And it can all disappear at any given second.

A girl I went to school with lost her husband yesterday. She is pregnant with their first child, a daughter.

My heart breaks for those deeply affected by this loss. I am but a distant member of this community, and it has rocked me to my core.

Today, and hopefully every day hereafter, I promise to love him a little more. My wonderful husband, who for all his faults, is a good man. My best friend and the absolute love of my life. Today, I'm going to squeeze all of my loved ones a little tighter. 

what it takes

Admitting our flaws as parents is one of the hardest things to do, especially when we admit them in front of other parents - specifically, mothers. Since becoming a "Mom" over four years ago, I have witnessed the cruelty and quick-slip tongues of mothers jumping at the chance to rip on other mothers for their habits, their choices, and their lifestyles.

It's become second-nature to judge others, to highlight the wrong-doings of those around us - we rarely take the time to put all that attention and negative focus on ourselves. I have no problem shouting my flaws from the roof for the world to hear. They are what make me human, and without acknowledging that I am one heavily flawed individual, I can never grow, never learn and never move past this person I am, here in this moment.

I've yelled at my children, my six month old included. I have locked my daughter out of the bathroom while she fell into a pile of tears on the floor outside because I just needed a minute. I have lost my temper in public, threatened to spank my child all over a parking lot. I have wished for more time away from them, felt resentment towards them when I didn't get to do something I wanted to do. I have done just about everything wrong in the Parenting 101 handbook (that doesn't really exist, no matter how long you spend searching for it), and I have been Bad Mom of the Year several times over.

I am, at times, a bad parent. I openly and gladly accept and admit it.

Because accepting it and admitting to myself makes me a better parent. For as many bad and dark moments I have as a mother, I have a hundred more wonderful and good moments.

I love my children, tell them both daily over and over again just how much. I kiss them, hold their hands and run my fingers through their hair. I play games, roll around in the floor and hide under blankets 'til I'm out of breath and blue in the face. I kiss skinned knees, mop up puke in the middle of the night, rescue lost toys and give in more times than I refuse. I encourage imaginations and dreams, play pretend on a whim, listen to the same song in the car a hundred times over, teach recipes, explain a million questions and give so much more than I take.

I am, at times, a great parent.

Having dark moments does not define us as bad parents - the memories of bad parenting moments will haunt us forever, I'm sure. I still cringe recalling my bad moments, the feeling is just under the surface always ready to make me feel less than human. But the love that boils just underneath those bad feelings surpasses any fear or doubt I have about myself as a mother. I am a good mother - no one can take that away from me, regardless what they might say. I love my girls, and I know they know it.

I don't mind taking a good long look in the mirror sometimes - for them, it makes me a better person. For me, it makes me love them even more.

the perfect words.

"Sometimes we love people so much that we have to be numb to it. Because if we actually felt how much we love them, it would kill us. That doesn't make you a bad person. It just means your heart's too big." -- Riding in Cars With Boys

I like to think that pretty much sums up how I've been feeling for nearly the last six months. I'm so grateful for the ability to look back on the past, even the recent past, and see how far I've come. It gives me hope to imagine how much farther I can go yet. 

heavy on my heart today

This guy is on my heart and mind today, all day long.

{ED: Just heard from my Dad and Uncle Mike - Papaw made it through surgery perfectly. The surgeon was very pleased, only had to do four bypasses instead of the original five he had planned on. The next 24 hours are critical, but after that he can begin the process of recovery. Thank you, for all your kind thoughts and words! I am blessed!}

{my papaw}

2007

I just found out that my Papaw Sid will have to have bypass surgery next week -- I can't imagine this man weak or in pain. I can't imagine him slowing down or taking it easy. He's a rock to me, and I've seen our relationship blossom into something beyond words over the last few years. He means the world to me...so much, obviously, that I named my firstborn for him.

I love this man, and even though I'm not usually one for the power of prayer, I ask that you pray for him. Send him love or a good thought. Whatever you feel comfortable with -- just surround him in peace and light and hopefully this'll be a distant bad memory soon enough.

I wish I could be there with him and my Mamaw. I want so bad to be there holding their hands and helping them through this. All I can do, for now, is send them my love and ask you to do the same. 

lovey

I don't think my girls could love each other any more than they already do -- and I know I couldn't be more proud. What did I do to deserve such beauty in my life? 

{bloglove}

I've said it before on here, but it bears repeating again: I love the power of connection the world wide web has provided us with.

I love that I am able to relate to so many people in so many cities, states and countries around the world. I've found such a humbling peace to see mirrors of myself in other women (and men) out there. I have this undeniable sense that I'm not alone, that the things I'm going through are unique to me, yes, but not unique to the problems so many of us face. I am reminded daily that I'm one of billions, and yet I couldn't feel more at peace with the knowledge.

So many people out there have blogs or are starting blogs these days; it's such a popular thing to do, I think some people look at is as a "passing fad" and brush it off as useless or a waste of time. To me, blogging feels incredibly natural. Sometimes I find myself running out of material - when that happens, I turn to my heart and my head. What am I feeling today? What am I thinking about? It can be very deep and emotional things or pure fluff. And that's the beauty of it.

I'm grateful for my blog. It keeps me sane and helps to remind me of all the little moments I forget about from time to time. We're constantly told as children to write our own stories, be the master of our own destinies. What better way to document our journey than with a blog? It offers an open platform to reach the masses, the opportunity to connect with corners of the world never reachable before, and it allows us to self-reflect and grow.

Blogs may seem like pure egotistical nonsense, but they are so much more than that. They are windows to the world. They give a voice to every face in the crowd. They are instant memory-keepers and online diaries. Who could ever put down such a powerful thing?

Be proud of your blog. Be proud of what you say and how you share yourself. Don't let the masses bring you down. Instead, reach out to them and open your hearts to the millions of stories being shared online every day. Don't get in a rut of only visiting the same blogs over and over again; get out there and explore this massive online universe.

And don't be afraid to tell your story. No one will ever know the thoughts in your head, the emotions you feel if you don't share them. Love your blog, protect and support yourself, and keep your chin up. We're all in this together, as evidenced by all the millions of blogs out there. I, for one, applaud all of you for being so bold. I hope to share with you in your journey for years to come.

You can rest assured, I'll be right here at home, sharing mine.

{I pledge allegiance to this blog...}

{Dear Sidney}

Dear Sidney,

You were so excited the day you became a big sister. In actuality, you became excited the moment you found out you were going to be a big sister. On the very day we told you, you came home with an "It's a Boy!" balloon from the store, before you ever even knew what was going on. You weren't right about having a little brother, but I think you're more than okay with that. You adore your little sister, beyond words. I could never begin to sum up the way your eyes shine when she smiles at you. The very sight of the two of you together melts me completely.

About one week after we came home from the hospital, I sat in the recliner looking at my girls - you asleep on the couch and your sister asleep in her bouncy chair. Van Morrison's "These Are the Days" was playing through the laptop and your Daddy was getting the house ready for bed. I looked over at you both and felt this explosion of love. Nine months of uneasy emotions and nervous thoughts flew from my soul, and there we all were - home, happy and healthy, together. That memory is so soft in my mind, yet it holds such strong feelings. I'm so lucky to be here among you girls, so blessed to witness your love for one another. I never had a sister, so I'm only guessing at the feelings you share. From where I sit, the view is beautiful and the love palpable.

I was worried about you before, nervous as to how you'd do adjusting to sharing the limelight. You were the only grandchild for so long, I didn't know how you'd feel about giving that title up. Now, I see all my worry was for nothing. You've embraced sisterhood with glory and grace. There's not a day that goes by that I don't look at you and think, "you're amazing" my child. You are amazing.

I want to thank you for being such a wonderful sister. Thank you for loving me and loving Rhealen and keeping this family intact and wholesome. You are pure joy, bottled up with blue eyes and curly brown hair. You were a surprise to us, just like Rhealen was, but we couldn't have asked for better girls. As you get older, you and your sister may fight. You may forget about the bonds you have and the simple, sweet love you share right now. There may come a time when you tell each other, "I hate you."

But please don't forget this moment in your life. Don't forget what it was like to do everything in your power to make your sister smile. Don't forget all the cuddles you shared in the mornings before school. Don't forget that moment when you first saw her, and your smile was so wide it barely fit in the room. Promise me, you won't forget.

And know I'll never forget a second of the day you became a big sister, and I became the luckiest lady in the whole world.

I love you, my dear Sidney Morgan.

Momma