The Imp

Our youngest earned herself a new nickname. Of our three kids, she is most certainly the most mischievous, most likely to make up wild stories and giggles constantly. She is four and younger than most of her friends. She doesn't turn five until August and since she has been wanting to be FIVE since she was THREE, all these five year old birthdays that she is attending are making her all the more eager for her own. She told me that she absolutely, completely was totally sure that she wants a Minnie Mouse birthday party.

This weekend as we watched her flit to and fro during a church BBQ my husband turned to me and said, "We can officially consider this one an imp, couldn't we?" As soon as he said it we both laughed; a truer description does not exist! Yesterday, before school, she asked me to give her two "piggie tay-ws" and when she saw that they stuck straight up, she giggled and bounced up and down gleefully.

She has been looking and acting rather grown up lately, so much so that even the older two kids remarked that Charlotte isn't a baby anymore(!) as if they were surprised at the realization. These pwitty piggies and chubby cheeks and baby hands help me to slow time just a teeeeensy bit.

Yup, she's the Imp alright!

Charlotte, the Ballerina Princess

For months Charlotte has been asking for ballet lessons. She is one of those children who skip/dances everywhere. It comes far more naturally to her than walking. Whenever she hears a beat she starts to shake her hips to the music. She can't help it.

Every morning I ask Charlotte what she dreamed about. Nearly every morning she gives me a sleepy grin and says "I was ballewina pwincess." Several times a week she wants to watch ballet themed movies on netflix and at least once a week she insists on wearing her ballet outfit all day. Leotard, tights, shoes, the whole nine yards.

This little girl has been dancing, talking about dancing, dreaming about dancing for months.

Yesterday, after I asked Charlotte about her ballerina princess dreams, I informed her that she was to have her first dance lesson later in the afternoon. She gasped, threw her hands to cheeks and said "Oh my goodness!" her new go-to excitement phrase.

Before I could even answer "yes!" she was down the hall in her room digging out her ballet outfit. It was nine in the morning; her lesson started at four, but that didn't matter, she was going to wear that outfit all day.

All day Charlotte followed me around asking "Is it time yet, is it time yet?" until finally it was time. We arrived to the ballet school, met her teacher and my girl giddily bounced on one foot, then the other while she waited for the other two students to line up. She stood next to her teacher and grinned at me while they began their first steps.

She admired herself in the mirror and added extra "Charlotte" flair to all the moves, undoubtedly to make them prettier in her eyes. She did everything her teacher asked of her and we smiled at her from the parents area. Slowly, though, her enthusiasm began to wane.

After about ten minutes of excited participation, Charlotte began to lose her bounce. Another minute and she stopped smiling, a few minutes more and her sashay lost it's sass. Twenty minutes into the class and it was clear my girl was not having fun. She looked at me with pitiful eyes and said "Momma, I'm shy!" as she bolted to where I was sitting.

I stared at her wide eyed and speechless. This was a side to my girl I have never seen. No one has! I am pretty sure anyone who reads this and knows Charlotte isn't going to believe me. I can't believe it myself.

She refused to participate, even though at one point it looked like it was killing her not to be dancing. Halfway through the class we packed up her things and went to the car.

When Lily was her age she really didn't want to do ballet, but tried it anyway. We frequently had issues with her not participating and finally her school (a different one) suggested that she not return for the remainder of her session, or sign up for another one. She participated in one recital, which she screamed so loudly through that the school had to re-dub the recital recording for her class' number.

I can't help but fear that history is repeating itself.

Since this is so unlike Charlotte to be "shy" we will try again next week, but in the meantime Lily was so excited about the class that she is begging me to let her sign up tomorrow. Who knew that, at the end of the day, it would end up being Lily who wants to be our ballerina princess?

Forgive, forgive, and then forgive some more.

"I know it's hard, honey, but you have to forgive them and move on."

I have uttered these words half a dozen times to my son in the last few weeks, every time he comes home with a new tale of playground antics. He has been so frustrated with this process. Pain, forgive, move on, new pain occurs, forgive, move on, new pain, forgive...

It is frustrating for me see because I can't tell him that the forgiving becomes easier with time or that the pain lessens or that the people who hurt us learn from their mistakes and stop hurting us. They don't, and behind every hurt, real or perceived, new hurts, real and perceived, lie in wait, ready to knock us down all over again.

As I'm watching my son learn his first lessons in heartbreak and forgiveness via the playground I'm having examine my own issues with forgiveness. I say "issues" because, frankly, forgiveness and me, we aren't always buds, man. Sometimes I want to hold on to my hurt so hard it...um, hurts. Physically, mentally, and most especially, spiritually.

The times when I cannot forgive my bible feels like it's a million pounds. It's too heavy to open, it's too heavy to turn the pages, it's too heavy to even hold. I won't allow myself to find comfort in the only place that can give me comfort because being the victim is way too comfortable. I would hear people say "God forgave us our sins and he forgave those who sin against us, so surely we can forgive as well?" or "There is so much freedom in forgiveness!"

When I am hurting, when I am sad, when I am  feeling alone, all I can think of is, "Great. God can do all the forgiving for both of us, because I'm certainly not going to." Lucky for me he does. He did. He forgave, he forgives, he moves on. Sometimes knowing that angers me. I always think to myself, "Woohoo, bully for you, God that you forgive when I am the one wronged here. Easy for you to be all forgiving and stuff. Freedom in forgiveness? Ha. Cliche much?"

Then I remember what it's like as a parent to watch my hurting child try to forgive. It isn't easy on anyone. Not my son, not me, not God. My perspective begins to shift and I realize what the heart of the matter is.

The root of most my problems with forgiveness is pride. I forget that anyone else has ever been hurt besides me. I forget that I hurt people, too. I forget that there is freedom in forgiving and life and community and love beyond the hurt feelings, sometimes even with those who hurt me. All I see, all I can focus on is my pain, my feelings, my suffering, me, me, ME.

I have noticed that when I harbor bitterness, pain, and disappointment it feels like everyone around me flees. It is hard to be in fellowship when I'm holding onto stuff. I begin to withdraw from people and they withdraw from me. It's a vicious cycle which can only be broken by forgiveness. I have been stuck in this cycle for years before. Years, people. It isn't pretty.

I have had to forgive daily, hourly, every ten minutes, but I have to do it, and keep doing it until the grace brought by true forgiveness takes root and stays there. When it finally does the freedom I get really is as amazing as everyone had told me all along.

Kids. They sure do have a way of showing me my baggage.

Faith Like a Child (and how sometimes it's a bummer)

It's been a rough week for Tyler. He came home from school last week sharing some of the playground antics he and the other boys have been participating in. Last year recess was all about spy club, ninja warrior club, and Lego Nijago club. Yes, lots of clubs. This year they "just hang out and mess around." Nice and vague.
There appears to be a kid  who used to be a friend (not last year's frenemy), but now declares to everyone within hearing distance that Tyler is weird. I've been reminding him that, like it or not, we are all a little weird. When I asked him what he thought normal was, he admitted that he couldn't tell me because, "What is normal to us, might not be to other people." Ok, somehow that lesson sunk in.

One afternoon last year I asked Tyler if he was making sure that anyone who wants to join their club could. "You aren't excluding anyone, right?" He assured me that no one was being excluded; that once the club members prayed to "have Jesus live in their hearts" they were free to join any and all clubs.

Imagine my wide-eyed surprise, mouth gaping open. While it is sweet that he was such an evangelist (questionable theology, aside), my mind immediately went to what are those kids' parents going to think? Then, just as quickly, do I need to be worrying about this? Then, I don't want him to ever be ashamed of his faith, how do I encourage healthy (not to mention Biblically accurate) sharing? Followed by "!!!!!!!!!!" I won't lie, part of me wonders if this new label stems from his beliefs. We have discussed a few things about this recently.

First, I am trying to make sure Tyler understands that you cannot compel someone to believe in Jesus, especially to gain entrance into a club. That would be a cult. (Oh, great my kid was running a playground cult!) We have been trying to make sure that Tyler knows the difference between sharing his faith and ramming it down people's throats. He is struggling with the concept, only because right now in his little boy mind, Christianity makes more sense than it doesn't. He genuinely does not understand why someone wouldn't just jump at the chance to follow Jesus. As he gets older, and doubt creeps in, he will have more understanding of the unique gift belief is. But for now he has the faith of a child. Beautiful stuff.

Second, it is really important to Aaron and I that our kids understand biblical tolerance; the idea that we must tolerate, respect and love people with different views, even while we may not agree with or respect the view itself, and certainly even if they may not tolerate or respect ours. This is a hard one, because people have already been telling him what he believes is wrong. That is ok with us, becuase we get to talk about what we believe, why we believe it, and then our kids get to decide for themselves, each step of the way, if they will continue this walk. It isn't easy, but oh so necessary.

Third, I have been talking about what it meas to be "unequally yoked" (2 Cor 6:14).

¹⁴ Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness?

This verse is traditionally applied to speak to marriages where one partner is a believer while the other is not. Really the passage could be about any close relationship. "Partnership" and "fellowship" implies intimacy, not necessarily just in marriage. I have been telling Tyler that he needs to be mindful of who he trusts, who he considers his best friend and who he chooses to seek advice from. Non-believers can certainly be trustworthy, best-friend material and wise, but I want him to consider why he might place his trust in someone who does not hold the Jesus he loves in as high a place in their heart as he does. I think no matter what you believe, we can agree it is harder to maintain a close, intimate, deep relationship with someone who does not believe that what you hold most dear (whatever it may be) to be truth.

He's coming home less and less bothered by the playground antics and hopefully more and more sure of the treasure we think he is and we know God thinks he is.

Doctors and Needles and Tattoos and Such

Last week, when I told Charlotte she had a doctors appointment, she immediately said. "Nope, no shots." Oh I know the feeling, kid. I didn't know for sure if she needed shots, so I couldn't assuage her fears. But I could bribe. Wholeheartedly and shamelessly.

"If you have to have shots," I told her, "we will get a new princess doll at the store."

She's no dummy and immediately started to negotiate the giant seven-pack of princess dolls that Target just started carrying for the holidays. Go big, or go home. I can appreciate that.

"One doll and maybe a treat."

She sighed and made a face. She never mentioned the dolls again, but continued to remind me whenever the doctor came up, "NO shots!"

She was a trooper, but I can see that she takes after her dear old mom in this category. Where brother and sister can muster up the courage to sit still, take their shots, wail a bit and move on, little Charlotte fusses and worries, flails and thrashes, screams and hollers. She earned her doll (and the nurse and I earned a stiff drink).

Oh, I feel ya sister. I have a real and true needle phobia. I actually fought with all my nurses over having an IV during my deliveries. No lie, I'd rather have no drugs for labor than have an IV put in. It's a miracle I have my ears pierced. My mother should appreciate it; if I didn't I'd have tattoos and at least a nose piercing. Likely my tongue and belly button, too. Hey, I turned eighteen in 1997, that's what we grunge era kids did. All my friends celebrated their eighteenth to mid-twenties birthdays with extra holes and ink.

I probably would have chosen an awful tribal tattoo or some symbol of the sorority I joined and then quit two years later. I could not have chosen a permanent tattoo well at twenty. It's debatable I could choose well at thirty-three. And yes, I do regularly think about the tattoos I would get if I wasn't a chicken. My sisters-in-law have offered to pay to get me a tattoo, if we all decided on the same one, but that hasn't happened yet. Two things some people are shaking their heads over right now: I'm preoccupied with tattoos and I was once in a sorority. I know.

It looks like Charlotte won't be wanting extra holes and ink, but Lily is already asking for her ears pierced, has been for two years. I was ready to let her this summer, but Daddy said he wasn't ready yet. It seemed like such a grown up thing to do, he said. It does. I think I'm rather glad he didn't want her to.That one is already too self-sufficient.

What would you get if you got a tattoo?

Happy Birthday Charlotte!

My baby is four. I can officially say that she is a preschooler. I'm not sure how I feel about that.All day long she has been telling anyone who would listen, "Today is my birfday! I'm fouw now!" Then awkwardly hold up three fingers, look at them for a second, add the fourth digit and then grin ear to ear.

We spent the day at my grandparents house making decorations and whatnots for the upcoming brithday party. I love that not only do we I have my grandparents still, my kids are going to all remember fun times with them. It was super cute how into the crafting my Granny is. That is to say, very.

it's the little things

A few of the "little things" that have blessed and encouraged me this week:
A sweet message from my dear friend, Nikki, in response to my posts about body image. Nikki and her husband, Jordan, are missionaries in Manila and are expecting their first baby in a few months, which is SO EXCITING! I love her and wish that she lived close by. I don't have a picture of her, but please do visit her blog and say hello.

Proud boy! With a mouth full of ice cream.

 Good grades!! Both my kids got fantastic grades this year and earned themselves a free ice cream at a local parlor. I am especially proud of my boy, who had a great year. Repeating first grade was the best thing we ever did for him. I am so proud of his improvement. This kid reads for fun now.

SUMMER! We had our first full day of summer yesterday. It was amazing. Farmers market, playdate, afternoon at the river. It does not get any  better. Also, I am tired.

The cove we played at yesterday. We have been awake 3 hours and the whole time my son has been begging to go back.

Forever Friends. Forever friends are hard to come by. I am so thankful that God has blessed us with more forever friends than anyone has any right to have. Aaron and my very first forever friend was a wonderful man named Jason. We have loved him like a brother for the last ten years. Two years ago Jason introduced us to Carolyn who would, a year later, become his wife. Within minutes of meeting her I knew that she would also become a forever friend. She and I have probably the most honest and real friendship I have ever had. We laugh together and cry together and pray for each other. I love Carolyn. Oh, and Jason, too.

Aaron and Jason

Beautiful Carolyn and me

Jason and Carolyn are leaving Sacramento to start a new adventure in Nashville while Jason pursues his PHD and Vanderbilt University. I couldn't be more proud of what he is doing while also being miserable that he is taking his sweet wife away from me.There are two consolations to this: 1) both their entire families live here, so they have to come back to visit and 2) I am adding "visit Nashville" to the Life List.

These are a few of our forever friends. There are no less than eight beautiful people missing from this photo.

A blog that I really enjoy, Hello Hue, encourages her readers to remember and be thankful for the little blessings in life. Each week, on Fridays, she lists all those who have participated in "it's the little things" that way we can all read about, and hopefully be encouraged by, each others blessings.

I ♥ Sacramento {Squeeze Inn}

Squeeze Inn, Sacramento

5301 Power Inn Road  Sacramento, California

(916) 386-8599

Monday Thru. Friday-  10 a.m. – 7 p.m.
Saturday - 10 a.m. – 6 p.m.
Sunday Closed

According to Google maps I live 1.6 miles or 5 minutes away from the Squeeze Inn. Their old location was about 3 minutes from my house. And yet, until my sister's 13th Birthday Extravaganza last week, I had never been. This is probably a good thing, because for someone who hates to eat meat as much as I do I still have a soft spot in my stomach for a good hamburger. And bacon. Now that I have finally had a Squeeze With Cheese I can't wait to get another one, and that can't be good for my waistline.

We got there right at 12, which was clearly the lunch rush. Even so, we only had to wait a few minutes before the one and only booth was available. It gave us time to look around at all the crazy wall decor that every hole-in-the-wall place holds so dear. This one mostly boasted a lot of family photos (someone's in the military!) and pictures of customers around the world in their Squeeze Inn t-shirts.

There is also a well deserved wall of fame, note the bright blue "Access" paper. The old location was the scene of a lawsuit  (which was later dropped) for not being handicapped accessible, so surely they are most proud of their new accessible location, no?

 The menu dosen't stop at Squeezeburgers, which was a surprise to me, because there was not one single person sitting down to lunch that didn't have a SWC and a basket of fries. I noticed you could get a veggie burger with cheese, but I think a part of my soul would die if I ate a veggie burger at a place like Squeeze Inn. 

The Famous Squeeze With Cheese. Half was more than enough!

I am really happy that the burger didn't disapoint. It was delicious and cheesy and just greasy enough to be enjoyable, but not so greasy I felt dirty after eating it. The four of us shared a large basket of fries on the waitresses recommendation (I'm a sucker for the up-sell) but I should have follwed my gut and gotten the small. The real star of the show is the burger; we just weren't all that into the fries.

Upon coming home and telling my husband about our day he looked wounded and said "You went to Squeeze Inn? Without me?" I know. Very sad.

Our booth was actually the original entryway!

Thumbs up! Can you tell my sister is over it and just wants to eat lunch?

I wish I could say that I planned the whole "pinkies out" thing for the picture. But no. I am that fake-pretentious enough that I eat like this unwittingly on a regular basis. According to my mother I held my bottles pinkies out as a baby.

School isn't totally lame

You might remember that our son was in first grade last year and at the end of the year we decided to retain him for a "bonus" year of first grade. You might not, because, really, who keeps track of other people's kids and their schooling issues? Anyway, retain him we did, not without a little trepidation.

While Tyler has struggled a bit in academics, he has always been ahead of his peers emotionally and socially. He makes friends easily, is kind and compassionate beyond his years (but occasionally mean and obnoxious beyond his years), which led us to worry about what retention would mean for him. Our team of first grade teachers assured me that the bonus year usually doesn't register in the kids minds, they just make new friends, have a new teacher and call it a day.

Which, naturally, wasn't the case for our boy.

Going to school was a bundle of nerves for him, he knew he would be the oldest in his grade and thought that the entire school was laughing at him (no really, for about two weeks he would come home saying that kids laughed in the halls when he walked by or kids at the next table were laughing at lunch, any laughter in his earshot that he could be positive wasn't about him, in his mind, was about him). No amount of assuring him that all 600 kids in his could not possibly a) know who he was b) know who he was and CARE or c) know who he was, care and be bothered with what grade he was in.

I'm not sure what changed, but eventually it did change. I think he realized his friends from last year are still his friends, he made new friends and his amazing teacher established him as a leader in the classroom (every kid's dream). If anything needs to go to the office or a kid needs to go to a part of the school they are unfamiliar with, the old pro gets to take them.

We went from whining about how boring school is and how dumb homework is to "Well, school is totally boring and homework will always be dumb, but it's not all lame."

And this week someone has discovered that he likes reading. We have Junie B Jones, Stink (Judy Moody's little brother) and the Magic Treehouse to thank for that.

First Day

Our first day of school. The morning went perfectly with our veteran and newbie. The alarm went off at 6:30am (!) and we all trudged out of bed bleary-eyed, but ready to go. The day didn't go without it's hitches, but by the end of it they toppled into bed excited for tomorrow.

Our little kindergartener! She was a little nervous, but did great. By the time it was time for parents to leave she was practically pushing us out the door.

Always Magical

Disney certainly gives cynics plenty to be cynical about: market over-saturation, mediocre movies, high prices, large crowds, crappy pay and benefits for those who work there, etc, etc. Regardless, I still find it magical, even though I probably shouldn't. No place on earth can make our kids speechless and grin till it hurts quite like Disney. Charlotte has never been to the parks and even though we couldn't do a full Disney trip the character breakfast was perfect for her to get her first taste of the crazy delight that is Disney.

The obligatory family picture that they then tried to sell to us for $30. Insert cynical statement here _____. This is the crappy one from my camera. Naturally we all looked tan and gorgeous and thin in their version.

 

Pluto hugs

Can you tell Charlotte was a bit freaked by Captain Hook?

Kisses for Chip (or Dale)

Baloo. Lily enjoyed this more than anyone. She grinned the whole time and I don't think she actually ate anything!

My favorite picture of Lily. Best smile ever.

For weeks leading up to this Tyler declared he was waaaay too old and that we had to tell the characters NOT to speak to him. You can see how that turned out.

This is the part that I think overwhelmed Charlotte. Actually she was probably less overwhelmed and more confused as to why strangers were singing to her.

The cupcake makes up for the singing awkwardness.

The highlight for my daughters. Lily was adorable. Charlotte was happy to see Cinderella but maybe a little over it at this point.

Hi 5'in Mickey Michael Jordan style.

Can you totally tell my husband was humoring me at this point?

Let's Go Fly A Kite

Great, now I have that song stuck in my head!

I forgot to post about Tyler's kite flying at school, so I am doing it now. It's mostly driven by the fact that he is spending the week with friends out of town and it's nice to see his sweet face even if only on the blog. He has gleefully informed us that he "doesn't miss us at all' and we should let him stay a whole extra week. It's only day 3 of 7 though I don't think he'll be missing us terribly after 7 days either.

 You see, our friends have 4 BOYS. He is in pure Lego, Hot Wheel, Nerf gun, video game, wrestling heaven right now. It's truly no wonder he's in no hurry back to us. I know as his mother I should be heart broken that he doesn't miss us and the only tears he's shed are over the fact that I won't promise he can stay another week, but frankly I'm thrilled he's getting the boy time he needs. Sisters just aren't the same.
 

I ♥ Sacramento {Circus Imagination}

When we were at the County Fair we had the joy of watching the delightful Circus Imagination in action. We liked it so much that we came back for the second showing in hopes that the kids could participate. Tyler made sure he waited front and center in hopes of getting picked.

Pick me, pick me!

He was the last one picked!

Circus Imagination is family owned locally (somewhat, they are in the foothills) and they travel to schools, fairs and community events showing kids how to put on their own imaginary circus. It is so fun and so easy! We are hoping to try it out with our kids and some of their friends one day. We had originally thought we might try it for our daughter's upcoming third birthday, but we think maybe we'll give a go when she (and her friends) are a smidge older.

Being the butterfly catching clown is an extremely important job.

There was an impressive "sharpshooter", Dead-eye McBang

The Butterflies running from the clown!

The menacing menagerie

Tina the Tightrope Walker

Trust me when I say it was darned adorable.