Last night, I started going through the pictures from Key West.  I love them all.  They bring back such great memories.  First off, it was me and Lance away for 6 days without our children.  That’s not really something I go for normally, but this trip was special.  It was for our ten year anniversary.  He wanted it, I was dragging, then Paul and Brian took over and reservations were made.

We had a blast.  Once I got past the damn plane.  When we made reservations, nobody mentioned the small/tiny plane I would be required to board to get to Key West.  The conversations prior to the flight and during the flights were tense.  But I made it there, completely and utterly drugged up, but I made it.  And let’s be real, it wasn’t my first round with Xanax so I was good to go once we landed.  I vaguely remember telling everyone we needed matching tattoos around 2 am.  (There is nothing to show, the guys all refused.)

Sure, it was hot.  Very hot,  And humid.  But honestly, I was with my favorite people in the world so I was fine.  Plus, we had a pool at our cottage.  We would just run home and take a swim.

The week was wonderful: we ate a lot, drank a lot, swam in our pool, stayed up late talking, walked all over, went snorkeling, took a sunset cruise, had someone take the four of us out on a boat to fish and snorkel, saw dolphins.  We really enjoyed our time.

We stayed on Love Lane.  How fitting for an anniversary trip.

My honey, who makes everything amazing.

Two of my favorite people share the same birthday: Goose and my brother.  Kind of cool, right?!  My brother is a great guy.  Although we’re five years apart in age, we’ve always been close.  When cell phones used to be expensive, he was a huge part of my bill.  He’s always been there for me, and I really admire him.  It’s fitting that Goose shares a birthday with him.  Happy Birthday to the best brother in the world.  I hope my boys and girl are just like you and me and remain close to each other throughout their lives.  Age really doesn’t matter, just love.

Squirt has aspirations to be in the UFC.  I am so not kidding.

Goose aspires to be a doctor, much to Paul’s dismay.

Snax…when he is 20, he is going to be a dragon.

Lance said, “you can be a clown or a priest, which one?”  Snax replied with some frustration as he thought this was clear, “I’m going to be a dragon.”  Lance wanted to know “what are you going to do afterwards”.  Snax-“fly”.  WTF did you think was running through his mind.  I am positive of that.

Happy Birthday, Snax!  You are now four years old.

Kid, you are hilarious.  You are cuddly.  You are sweet.  You love your sister so much.  You have the cutest voice ever.  You ask me if I’m happy.  You fully live life.  Every second of the day.

You light up a room when you come running in…your lopsided run with the huge arms.  You talk nonstop.  And you won’t stop talking until you are acknowledged.  You have truly taught me how to be present to your children.

Last night we asked if you wanted to sleep with us or your brothers.  You chose your brothers.  Really, anything your brothers want, you want.  And while it’s sweet, it makes me feel as if you’ve missed being three years old.  You are too young to want Pokemon cards, but you want them because BH and Goose have them.  And that’s my only complaint about you.  I want you to just be you, the 3 year old, well 4 year old.  You have all the time in the world to be older.

You also copy the boys, if they have a tummy ache, you have a tummy ache.  Sometimes copying works for you, and sometimes it works against you.  Remember the time we were in Target and you wanted some toy insects?  Baby Hulk decided he didn’t like them so you didn’t either.  Except you really did like them!  And now we have to check the dollar spot for big plastic bugs every time we go to Target.

Seriously kid, you crack me up.  You make everyone laugh.  The amount of time you spend thinking about your tummy is a bit much.  In the middle of breakfast, you ask about dinner.  “What’s for dinner, mom?”  And if it’s chicken, you immediately fall to the ground and wail, “chicken, not chicken.”  Before you fall asleep at night, you tell me exactly what you want for breakfast.  It’s pretty obnoxious, but it’s you.  Cute and sweet.

Sometimes it’s as if your tummy has a mind of it’s own.  Not only does your tummy want a snack, it also wants to watch a funny show, not learning shows.

Your nickname has really taken off this past year.  It’s not just a family nickname.  People who don’t know you call you Snax.  It’s all over Twitter.  Because of dad, people feel like they know you.  They want to hear stories about you.

At three you developed a love of Star Wars.  You have an unusual amount of Star Wars t-shirts, but the ones you love the most are the ones with Darth Vadar.  You are in love with the Dark Side.  Which hopefully, means you are sneaky.  It would make me so proud.

Snax, you are so sweet.  You love Baby Z so much.  You share your food with her, give her toys and try and carry her.  Thankfully, you have learned how to carry her without choking her.  You love all of your grandparents.  You say grandpa so adorably, and distinguish between the two by calling one the big grandpa and the other the little grandpa.  You’re smart like that.  You love on me daily and it makes my heart melt.

You’re pretty smart too.  In a much different way than your older brothers.  You are what they call street smart.  You are somewhat of a challenge for me as far as teaching goes, but that’s fine.  I know just what to do with you and that’s to have as much fun learning as possible.

Snax, you’re sitting in my arms right now.  Napping after a nasty spill.  I love that you run to me, snuggle me and talk in that adorable voice.  I have a chocolate cake with white frosting, sprinkles and strawberries, plus ice cream.  It’s quite a cake you asked for, but anything for you on your special day.

Happy Birthday, my boy.  I look forward to next year, but hope I never forget one minute of this last year.  I love you!  God bless you.  Even if you don’t like the long church!

Here we are again.  Dear boy, this year has passed by so very fast.  Too fast, but we have enjoyed it.  I am not regretting a thing right now.  I am enjoying the gift that you are.

And you are a gift.  A real gift to me and our family.

I watched you in mass yesterday and just marveled.  You are one of the sweetest boys with little kids.  The family of five that sat in front of us~  You were playing with the 2 year old in the pews.  (You don’t even know this family by name.)  And the love you have for your sister.  I know, she’s one of your favorite people.  And you treat her as such.  Your love for little children makes me so proud.

It’s been quite a year for you, my boy.  A good year.  You have excelled this year and have been so happy.

When I think of the past year, your First Communion immediately comes to mind.  Even now, you can tell me just how many times you’ve received Christ in the Eucharist.    Five times.  Your ease with Confession is inspiring to me.  I hope you always keep that love for Christ in your heart.

You also had a wonderful school year.  Straight A’s, kid.  You set a goal and made it come true.  Remember the time you couldn’t understand why you had a certain grade on an assignment?  The grade was pretty low, and you knew it could affect your straight A’s.  I told you to deal with it, and you did.  You went straight to your teacher and asked her why points had been removed.  You took control of your grades.  This one act says so much about what kind of person you are.  I hope you always set goals, take charge and make your dreams come true.

You’ve always been my speller.  And this year you were selected to represent your class in the spelling bee.  Actually you weren’t selected, you earned your way into the school bee.  I predict this won’t be your only school spelling bee.

You still read all the time.  You take a flashlight to bed, you take books in the car and still like to cuddle and read with me.  You love sports.  And you’re pretty good at basketball and baseball.  I never thought I would like watching little league, but I love it.  Seeing you on the basketball court gives me such pride.  And to see you and Baby Hulk on a team together is even better.  I watch the two of you together, and you are the best of buddies.  I hope you always have your brother’s back like he does with you.

At eight years old, you’re a pretty well rounded kid.  Just like your dad.  Generally, I think of you as being just like me, and you most definitely are when it comes to your personality, but I love how much I see your dad in you.  You are now the encyclopedia when it comes to football.  You watch shortcuts of NFL games and knew all the bowl games this year.  Your dad is proud of you for many reasons, but he has the biggest twinkle in his eye when you want to stay up to watch a sporting event.

You’ve grown so much this year, but you are still a little boy.  I catch you skipping, and it makes my heart swell.  It’s my favorite move.  You love Snoopy more than anything, possibly even me and Baby Z.  When I asked what you wanted for your birthday, you said you wanted some Snoopy figures.  I searched everywhere to make sure you got your birthday wish.  With help from dad, there were three on your cake today.  I will do that for you.  Anything to keep you young.  Because while I say I’ve embraced this year, I can admit just how fast it’s gone.  And I don’t like it.  I want time to stop.  I want things to stand still.

But they won’t, I know it.  I will continue to watch you grow.  I know how blessed I am to be your mom.  I thank God for you every day.  I remember every detail from the day you were born and so many other details from your life.  You are such a sweet little boy, a bit bossy, as smart as I always knew you were and you love your family.

One of my favorite memories of you this year was your disgust upon reading about a kid who didn’t want another sibling.  You just didn’t get that kind of thinking.  In fact, you expect to have another siblings in a year.  For me, that says we’re doing something right.  Even though you kind of expect to be top dog a lot of the time, you love family.  Whether it’s listening to music with your big brother, watching silly videos or playing soccer out back, you love them.

Next year, you start third grade.  I wonder if you will still want me to walk you into school.  I hope so, but realize that you might not and that’s okay.  I can watch you grow because you make me so proud.  I love who you are and who you are becoming.

Happy Birthday, my sweet boy.  I love you dearly.  This past year was remarkable, and I know next year will be even better.  May God bless you always, and Mary and the Saints continue to pray for you.

Last week Lance and I went out of town for our anniversary.

We left the kids at home.

My mom stayed with the kids.

She offered.  When the subject of a trip came up in conversation, it was a given that she would watch the kids.  Not to me!  To her.  It’s what she does, she takes care of us.  Whenever we need her help, she’s here for us.

I am forever grateful.

This isn’t the first time Lance and I have left town without the kids.  I imagine it won’t be the last.  And next time, she will come again to watch our crew.

I know just how lucky I am to have a mom that will come and watch my kids so that Lance and I can enjoy ourselves.  My dad comes to help each day, but she is stuck with the grunt work.  Getting them into bed at a reasonable time, getting them fed for breakfast~ no easy task since they all eat different things and keeping the house in order.  She never complains.  She even takes them places, something I really appreciate.

This week they went and played at the YAC, saw a movie with my dad, went to a snake show with both my parents, my dad treated them to Pappasito’s and the week ended with their basketball game.  They had a great time.  And while they were very happy to see me/us, they didn’t want Mimi to leave either.  

A big thank you to my parents for watching our kids.  Lance and I had a wonderful trip, and it was easy to enjoy knowing that my parents were here for the kids.  Thanks to my mom for moving in for the week and watching over them.  Thanks to my dad for the moral support and encouraging text updates!

I don’t really trust the kids with many people.  I tend to worry nonstop when they aren’t with me.  Knowing my parents are watching them makes all the difference.

Less than twenty-four hours of being home, and I’ve received calls from each of them about how much they miss the kids.

Thanks Mom and Dad for loving our kids so much that you take time away from your own life and obligations just so Lance and I can have time to ourselves.  We love you and don’t take you for granted.

We’re back!  Lance and I took a trip for our anniversary to Key West.  We had a great time, but it was time to return home to our babies.  I have tons of pictures to share, but for now, I’ll share these.

And then there is this little girl…

One more kid to go, and I’ll be happy.

It seems like just yesterday we met.  BW3’s, a wing joint.  I don’t even eat wings.  Ever.  But I will always be grateful for that establishment.  Was it chance?  Yes and No.  I went to meet you: the host of the talk show I listened to every morning.  But no, I didn’t think I was meeting my future.

I was immediately taken in by you.  So much so that I went home and wrote an email and still have the email you sent back.  I read it to my mother the next morning on our drive to Austin.  I told my favorite cousin all about you.  I was a goner, and we hadn’t even talked more than fifteen minutes.

Ten years later, you still take my breath away.

Literally.

You are everything I ever dreamed of and then some.  Everything that is good about my life comes from you.  (Okay, not everything, my parents and friends, but  you get the point!)  You make getting up worthwhile, sleeping in on a Saturday worthwhile and everything in between.

As I think back on the last ten years, I can say with certainty that they were pretty amazing.  I think of that first year, the excitement of living with my husband.    Learning how to live with someone who wasn’t just a roommate.  To live with someone for the rest of my life.  It was a pretty amazing year.  Our first home, our first Christmas~ hosting a huge gathering, our trips…it was incredible.

You gave me Squirt, and I learned to mother.  Then came the positive pregnancy test.  And the little boy that followed.  And then the sadness of those that didn’t follow.  I will always be grateful for you, you were grieving when I really couldn’t, when I had to avoid it.  And then came the Baby Hulk and the NICU.  And one more child in heaven, and Snax.  Then the year that sucked.  And another heartache until at last Baby Z arrived.  I hate to admit, but this past year has been kind of crappy.  Not because of us, but because sometimes luck just stinks.  I think that is an accurate description of this past year.  But we have lived it together and there is nothing better than that.  It didn’t drive us apart.

Here we are.  You and me and our five children.  It’s a great life.  It’s not always easy, but to be honest, it’s not as hard as I thought it would be.  Maybe that makes me naive.  But I think when you are with the person you are supposed to be with, it’s not so hard. You like being together.

And I like being with you.  Yes, I love having the kids around.  Maybe more than a lot of people.  But to me, they are extensions of you.  You have given me this amazing life I didn’t even know to hope for the day I said yes to your proposal.

Indeed, you are my life.  I have no fears that once the kids leave home, many, many, years from now, that you and I won’t know what to do with ourselves.  We were made for each other.

Happy Anniversary, my love.  You have my heart.  Always.  I cherish each year we have spent together and am excited for the years to come.

I can’t wait for next week.

Best decision ever…getting myself to BW3’s.

Yes, this is seriously a post about towels.  My anniversary is coming up this Friday, and I’ve been thinking about my wedding.  Truly one of the best days of my life.  Anyway, I was thinking of the big day: the ceremony, the reception~ remarkable and the gifts.  My favorites were the wooden spoon, hanging in my kitchen, and the silverware from my friend’s mom.

You always hear married couples, really women, talk about the gifts that have proven useless.  Usually it’s the china.  You only use it once, maybe twice a year, and after a while it seems like such a waste of a gift, especially in this day of Crate and Barrel and Pottery Barn registries where you can register for really fun gifts.  Personally, I love my china.  And while I rarely use it, I love it as much as I did the day Lance and I chose our pattern.  I love seeing it on Christmas day, Thanksgiving and special date night dinners.  So no, China isn’t my wasted gift.

The gift I have yet to take advantage of fully are the towels.  Yes, towels.  I must have registered for eight sets of towels, body and hand, in two different colors for each bathroom.  Great, right?  We use towels every day, usually twice a day.

Great except I use the exact same towel.  Every. Single. Day.

So do my children.

I wash them every other day and hang them right back on the rack for use.  We never use new towels.  The first five years of our marriage, I rotated towels, literally folding each towel and putting them at the bottom of the never ending stack of towels.  That OCD move has stopped.

I have literally never had a dirty towel in my laundry basket.  It just didn’t make sense to me to throw a damp towel in the laundry.

Which leads me to another random fact about me.  I have used the same pink towel to wrap my hair since I went to college my freshman year.  I remember going to Macy’s and picking out my towels for the dorm room.  I went with my dad, and he bought a huge bunch of towels for me, pale pink and pale green.  (Thinking back, the same thing happened with the towels when I was 18.)

My favorite hair wrapping towel ripped.  I am devastated.  I’m at a loss of what to do.  The obvious solution is to use one of the many towels in my cabinets, but this towel was special.  It was perfectly worn, just perfect for my thick hair.

When I told Lance about the towel ripping, he had no clue that I have been using the exact same towel for years.  He now thinks I am crazy.  He wanted to know how I survive when we’re out of town.  I do, I’m not disabled by my towel use, but I can admit that it totally bothers me to use a different towel those days I am out of town.  I think I’m going to try and cut the towel and see if it still works before tossing it.  He might think I’m even crazier after that move.

“St. Francis de Sales, that great saint, would leave off writing with the letter of a word half-formed in order to reply to an interruption.”

I love, love, love this quote about St. Francis de Sales.  I read it in a devotional that talks about the virtue of gentleness.  It goes on to say that he stopped everything MID-LETTER for more than likely adults.  People who knew how to wait.  How often do we view our children as interruptions in our lives?  Just because they ask for a cup of water, for you to read a book or play with them?

As a parent, it’s so easy to fall into the trap of thinking “I do everything.”  To think that nobody appreciates your hard work and to wonder why you even bother.  I have a friend who constantly talks about “all she does for her kids.”

I can pretty much say the same thing.  I do all the cleaning around the house with the exception of the hall bathroom.  (Squirt’s job.) And yes, I do pretty much everything with the kids, mostly by myself.  But isn’t that my vocation?

I’m not a big fan of people, children or adults, that act like they’ve done something grand when they are just being a member of the family.  I’m sure they feel the same way when I grumble about doing all the work at home.

Yes, I do a lot, but so does my husband.  He’s the one who makes it possible for me to stay with these kids.  Which is exactly what I want to do.  I never felt validated outside the home.  If there was ever a calling for me it was to stay home with my kids.  And I’m grateful that Lance is willing to sacrifice so that I can stay home.

Once I dared to ask Lance if he knew what it felt like to be responsible for this house full of kids.  He looked me straight on and said yes.  Then left.  I got his point immediately and felt like an ass.  He is responsible in ways that I am not.

Since I’m mainly responsible for the day to day of our lives at home, it does fall on me more than him to answer those calls from each child.  Some days it’s hard to see these kids as gentle reminders of my vocation in life.  I tell my kids they are striving to be Saints.  I guess that means I am too.  And there are plenty of days I feel like I am really “working” on it.  I have a child that asks “what’s for dinner” before he is done with breakfast.  He will tell you what he wants for each meal at least five times and starts whining if his toast is broken.  Yes, he’s bratty, but it’s my job to steer him in the right direction and not tell him that’s he’s a pain or an interruption.

I have to remember that I have five people that depend on me for everything.  Sure, some of them are independent, but overall, I am their world.  I want them to have my full attention, not my eyes checking the cell phone, half listening while they are trying to show me a new treasure from the yard.  My kids are indeed a call to service.  I need to be grateful more often and not fall into that ugly habit of thinking about just how much I do.  I need to do it.  With love.