Really

"Maybe she's smoking and watching TV," the baby said, about her oldest living great aunt, when I informed her that she and her Irish twin might go over there today while Mommy went out.

Is that really how she sees Aunt Carol?  Granted when we go over there in the evenings, to drop something off, she is winding down with some black and white show and a cigarette, but still.  What about the singing Aunt Carol we see all dolled up at church?  Nope.  Maybe we need to go over there more during the daylight hours so she can get new images of Aunt Carold

We love you, Will!

http://ktlane.ws/1cLwPEc

TTT's swim coach was murdered on Friday night. I can't stop crying. What a great man. He loved God, loved his wife, daughter, step-son. He was a hardworking man.

Today, I was annoyed with him, I'd been leaving him messages and he hadn't called returned them. I thought maybe he hadn't paid his cell bill, so I called his wife to get a hold of him and instead the news that greeted me was this.

Pray for his wife, his parents, his children.

When I was crying in the car, Jory said to me, "Don't cry, Mommy. You'll see him in heaven." Out of the mouth of babes.

I'm sad, but rejoice in knowing that I will see him again. And I feel very blessed that for the last five years he was a part of my family's lives.

I talked to his widow again tonight and she warned me that she was going to break down when she saw the kids, because Will really loved them and bragged about them to everyone. They were his kids. He loved them and was so proud of them. I feel bad that the baby and Rowan might not remember him as the years pass. But I'll do what I can to keep the memories alive.

God is good all the time. All the time God is good. While I cry for our loss, Will is having the best Christmas ever spending it with the birthday boy who was born in Bethlehem.

Happy Birthday to Me!

It's nearly 6AM, which in my world means I slept in on my birthday.  Yippee!  I am thankful God has allowed me so graciously to see another birthday.  And not just see another birthday, but to see one with two of the world's worst sleepers next to me who are forever kicking off the covers.  To know that down the hallway is my big girl sleeping away in the room with her Oma.  That on the side of my bed is Jack's cradle waiting for him to come home, but is currently filled with Christmas sweaters and Christmas receipts my baby put in their last night when she was helping me clean the disaster my room had become.  I am blessed we've started a new family tradition where Vandy and Aunt Brenda stay with us for the week of Christmas.

I go to an awesome church in another world that is filled with sound Biblical teaching, good music, and loving, caring congregations.  I have the best friends and family on the planet.  A great job with good bosses and good co-workers.  I am truly blessed.  And there are no episodes of the Sing-Off I get to watch, maybe even tonight.  The Sing-Off rocks.  Maybe TTT needs to become an acapella group.  That would be hot!

Happy Birthday to me!  And thank you to everyone whose prayers, love, encouragement, truth, chats have helped shape me into the person I am today. 

It would take hours and days at a time
For me to sit down and write down all the things He's done
But let me say this
It's nothing I've done
It's the grace He gives freely to everyone

God's been good to me
Oh my God has been good
He is good
He was good
He will be good
He's always good
All the time He is good

Are you kidding me?!

“Mommy, what is the President of the United States doing?” Rowan asked, as I was getting dressed.

“What?” I questioned, turning around to see Tony “I killed Patrick Swayze” Goldwyn on the screen.  Are you kidding me?  Rowan had seen enough scenes of Scandal that she recognizes Tony as the POTUS.  I was speechless and thankful I didn't watch any scandalous tv shows or I'd be in real trouble.

A Hard sleeper

I woke up when I felt something pressing against my stomach.  What was it?  I opened my eyes, looked down, and saw my dark haired beauty using my stomach as a pillow.  How did she get in here?  How did I not hear her come in?

This wouldn’t be the first early morning or the last where I would look over in the morning and see my baby.  Or feel a foot, arm in my stomach or feel a heavy weight on my back.

I guess I really am a hard sleeper.  I only wake for crying babies and continuous coughing.

The fun with spelling sentences

"Maybe.  M-A-Y-B-E," I said, going over Jory's spelling words for the week.

"Maybe.  M-A-Y-B-E," he repeated.

"Use maybe in a sentence."

"Here's my number, call me maybe," he answered.

Is my son quoting Carly Rae Jepsen at me?  Yep, he was.  And was that really a sentence or a song lyric?  I was so surprised and tickled, I let the sentence stand.  He did use the word correctly, so thanks Carly Rae.

Growing girls

“Rowan, don’t forget to pick up your shirts off the floor,” I reminded my big girl.

“Mommy, I have an idea.  I'll bring my shirts in here and you fold them and I'll put them up,” she suggested, matter of factly.

“Uh no,” I responded back succinctly.

Oh the inner workings of a six-year-old.

Jory and the new baby

My friend Emily called me to tell me she and her hubby were having a girl.  I asked what they were going to name her and she said, they really liked the name Chloe, but they had no idea for a middle name.  So I shared with her Jory’s favorite girl names, the ones he wanted to name Auntie Heather’s baby.  And on March 3, when Baby Girl Wineman made her entrance into the world, she became Chloe Ava.  Ava and Rachel were Jory’s two favorite girl names. 

Jory namer of babies.  And he doesn’t come up with crazy names, my future daughter is one lucky chick.

Welcome to the world, Chloe Ava!  May God bless you and keep you!

Cray Cray?

I was talking to someone and I looked out towards the playground to see where TTT where.  I saw Jory playing with Jonathan.  I saw Rowan with her beloved Sarah.  And then I thought I saw Layla.  But that couldn’t be my baby.  Because the little girl I saw on the playground seemed to be shoeless and sockless.  So I knew that couldn’t be my daughter.

“Layla,” I yelled.

This little girl came running to me with no shoes or socks on.

“Little girl, if you don’t go put your socks and shoes on…,” I commanded, the threat left hanging in the air.

What was wrong with her?  Has she gone cray cray?  It wasn’t even hot and she was running around bare foot.