Personal Advertisement: Evy's Tree Giveaway

Oh yes, it's another giveaway. So in spite of my LOOOONG absence from the blogosphere, I am once again here and typing away. Leave it to my friend Amy to find a way to get me blogging again. But it's for an awesome reason!

Evy's Tree is doing a giveaway. These are gorgeous, addictive, comfortable, and useful embellished hoodies. Those of you who know that I live in Hawaii may think to yourself; really? Is the weather in Hawaii cool enough for a hoodie? That's what I wondered myself...and then when I got my first one I found that yes, many nights it gets cool enough to wear a hoodie! And now that we are in our winter season, sometimes our days/nights are rainy and chilly and these hoodies are PERFECT. The way she designs them, they can be dressed up (with an accompanying gorgeous handmade brooch) or down (without the brooch, add a denim skirt!). As a nursing mommy, I find them ridiculously convenient and it makes me not want to wear anything else because these make nursing so easy. The high-quality hoodies are comfortable and they last well, even through the multiple washings I put them through after they get baby pee, spit-up, and poo on them!

Here is one of the original Evy's Tree hoodies, the Whimsey, showing my little baby bump at Ala Moana Center in Honolulu, Hawaii.

And here is the baby bump herself! This hoodie was sooooo comfy to wear in the hospital; looking decent for pictures, being easy for nursing, and getting compliments from the nurses!

The Army Green Simple (minus the brooch) on a cool day in Hawaii. Emma tucked her toes into the pockets!

The Army Green Simple with the Mrs. Darcy brooch. Sorry for the horrendous lighting; it was at a dark & romantic Italian dinner with my handsome hubby!

Do yourself a favor. Save your money and buy one. They are MUCH better quality and style than anything even similar that you will find in your local mall, and in the meantime you'll be supporting a hardworking mom who is trying to stay home with her kids. And until you save enough to buy one, enter her giveaway and maybe you'll win one!

Here is the link for the giveaway:

Evy's Tree Giveaway

And by the way, the headwraps seen in two of the pics (black and purple) are two of the wonderful creations from another awesome person, my cousin Charity Morgan of Dainty Button. The purple one is one of my favorites; it's the Carol of Courage Domestic Violence headwrap. Purple is the color of Domestic Violence Awareness and a portion of the proceeds from this wrap (and its matching headband) actually benefit a domestic violence survivor.

Missing My Dad...

Does anyone remember the significance of August 1997? Most people won't remember that this is the month that Princess Diana died in a dark Paris tunnel, until they see the little sidebar on an internet website. I can't ever forget, because the day she died was the day of my dad's funeral.

My dad entered eternity on August 27, 1997. I was 21. I hadn't had enough time with my dad, but I refuse to dwell on the sadness, because I HAD a dad...a great one...and he taught me many things during those two decades. And even in his passing, he taught me some incredible lessons with eternal significance.

So here it is, 13 years since his death...and this blog is dedicated to his memory. To my dad, Oscar Allen Foster.

Dad was born in 1927, the youngest of three. His parents were poor and he grew up on a farm in Diggins, Missouri. In his veins flowed brave Cherokee blood, and his mother was one of my family's legendary 'Foster Women'; those women in our ancestry with amazing strength and resilience. We look back at these women and shake our heads in awe as we strive to demonstrate thier strength. It's not that the Foster men are weak...I don't mean that at all...but the Foster women are just incredibly strong survivors! But I digress....

After high school graduation my dad, still a fresh faced teenager, joined the United States Navy at 17 while the world was embroiled in a long and bitter war. His military career has always been shrouded in mystery for us, because he refused to talk about it much. Most of what we know, we found out after he died and we were finally able to gain access to his military records. He'd been awarded medals that we never saw. He was on a ship in the Pacific Arena during the war, and one of our pictures of him during this time shows a rakishly handsome sailor casually smoking a cigarette and baring his chest in what must have been tropical temperatures based on the trees in the background. Now that I live in Hawaii and am aware of the huge military presence here, I like to imagine that perhaps he was here on this island!

Dad is the second from the right.

We believe that Dad's ship was one of the first US ships to land in Hiroshima, Japan after the detonation of the bomb that helped to bring the war to an end. We don't know what it was that Dad saw and experienced there, but it must have been horrendous. The few things he did mention over the years reflected his experience there, including his hatred of racism. When we would later move from Missouri to Louisiana, we found ourselves living among a much larger black population and I remember not really knowing how to adjust or adapt. Dad adamantly insisted that I resist any racist attitudes; it was one of the few times I was impressed at his 'righteous anger'! He vehemently told me that "men of any race or color are capable of horrible evil" and that NO ONE should be judged by their skin or culture. "Get to know someone past their race or color", he insisted, "then you can know whether you should be their friend or not." His eyes would look unseeing past me as he remembered his past..."you can't imagine how terrible people can be to other humans until you've seen some of the things I've seen." I didn't want to know...then. But now I wished I'd asked.

Handsome Navy sailor!

I wish I had more pictures of my dad, but unfortunately they are packed away at my mom's house with everything else from my childhood that's in storage! Oh well...at least I have a few. One of the ones that is my favorite shows us standing by the pond on our property, fishing. During my pre-teen years that was one of my favorite activities with him.

After the war, Dad married a childhood friend and they had 2 children; Sharon and then Larry. Things didn't work out, however, and Dad found himself a single father with custody of two young kids. Thankfully his mother stepped in and helped him raise the kids for about 10 years as my dad worked hard to support his family. Also thankfully during this time, he returned to his spiritual roots. When he was in his early 30's, he met my mom, a 21-year old blonde with Irish blood in her veins, who had been helping at a church camp where Sharon was attending. On a bright June day they were married.

My mom impresses me; at such a young age she became the step-mother to a 13-year old girl and a 10-year old boy! I don't think I could have done this, but she did...and she did it so well that they considered her Mom. My dad worked as an electrician for the city of Springfield, Missouri and my parents bought a house. Over the years they had my sister Janet, my brother David, my sister Michelle, and then me. I was born when mom was 35 and dad was nearly 50. I'm sure he often wondered what in the world he was doing still up at night with a newborn while his oldest daughter was already married! Sure enough, Sharon made him a grandfather before I entered Kindergarten.

Dad worked hard, but I remember so many gentle and fun memories. He loved taking us camping or to Indian pow-wows so we'd learn to embrace our Indian heritage. I thought it was so cool when he'd drive his work truck home with the big 'basket' in the back that would be lifted up on a crane when he worked on the city lights. Michelle and I would sneak up into that basket and play although I'm sure we weren't supposed to! Dad was so soft-hearted; once one of our cats got up there and had a litter of kittens overnight, which he discovered after he drove the truck to work the next day. He took time out of his schedule to drive the little feline family all the way back home so they would be safe with us!

In his early 60's Dad retired and my parents decided to move us all to the warmer climate of Louisiana. I was 9 and was proud and excited to make the drive all the way there sitting in the cab of the moving truck with Dad. Not long after we'd moved to a town so small that everyone knew everything about everyone, my mom told dad that he needed to relax, now that he was retired, and that meant wearing jeans. Gasp! My dad had never worn a pair of blue jeans in his entire life! I made the drive with him to Wal-Mart, several small towns over, and remember laughing as he cluelessly picked out various brands and styles of jeans, trying them on and asking me how he looked. As if I knew any better than he, what jeans looked good on a 60-ish retiree man (although he still had his natural black hair, thank you Indian blood!).

I love my memories during those years; fishing with Dad on the Sabine River (I could bait and fish but hated removing the captured prize so thankfully he helped with that!), helping him burn off the dead grass on our property or mow on our super-fun red riding mower. I loved riding with him in his red Silverado truck as he bounced around our land or made trips to town. Even when I got older and no longer wanted to ride in dusty trucks or sit with him in his workshop inhaling sawdust as he tinkered around, I spent time with him as he spoiled me (my older siblings made sure I knew I was a SPOILED Daddy's girl). He took me to get my drivers license when I turned 15 while Mom was visiting my sister in Georgia. He knew I hated riding the school bus during high school so every day, he'd get up and drive me to school and pick me up when school was done (my sister is still bitter about this since SHE'D always had to ride the bus up until she graduated).

Excuse the RIDICULOUS Southern Belle outfit....Dad escorting me at one of our church's infamous pageant fundraisers.

Dad was SO PROUD about each of his kids and all of our accomplishments. When my brother, who was in the Air Force, was deployed during the Gulf War, it wasn't enough to tie a yellow ribbon around the big tree by our driveway entrance; Dad pounded a huge American flag "Support Our Troops" sign into the shade of the tree. Since I'm the youngest I can't tell you how proud he is of all of my older siblings and their various accomplishments, but I do know how proud he was when my sister Michelle graduated from college. And when I graduated with my A.A. in Bible and Theology at my college in California, he was there to witness it, beaming from his wheelchair since strokes had already begun to claim his health. The last time I ever saw him alive, he urgently made me promise that no matter what, I would continue on in college and finish with my B.A. He was adamant and I promised.

It took 5 years and quite a detour across the United States....long story for another time...for me to fulfill that promise but I never felt complete until I did; sadly he was not there to witness it.

One of the last times I saw my dad; there were tears in my eyes because I couldn't stand knowing how fragile he'd become. And yet his love for me was so obvious and real.

My dad was a prayer warrior; many times throughout my life I heard him praying through the night, loudly travailing for his kids and other family or friends. Let me tell you...this is effective! As a teen there were times I was tempted to do things I shouldn't but could hear his voice ringing in my head, praying for me, and that stopped me! Or if I did do something I wasn't supposed to, it seemed that the next few nights were particularly intense prayer sessions by my dad and I KNEW God has revealed to him all of my sins...those nights saw me lying in bed with tears running down my face as I repented.

And even after Dad died, he taught me an invaluable lesson. You see, I'd never really seen God as a FATHER, as in....how he could be a DADDY to His sons and daughters. But after Dad passed away, I so desperately missed having a dad that I turned to God in anguish and really, anger that He'd taken my dad when I was still young. I began to see that yes, God IS our Father but much more than that; He wants to be a DADDY to us...those of us with good earthly dads and those of us without. He wants us to come to Him with our sorrows and joys, fears and boo-boos, desires and goals....just like we would our earthly dads. Thankfully, my relationship with God blossomed into a fuller one even after the loss...or because of the loss...of my Dad.

Dad buried in a military section of the graveyard in Louisiana.

But even into my marriage, I found myself complaining about not having my Dad around, etc. Until my husband, who has never known his father and only had countless not-so-awesome step-fathers, gently reminded me that at least I'd been blessed to HAVE a Dad around, and a good, Christian one, at that. He's right, of course. And the funny thing is, in many ways he reminds me of my dad...whom he never met. Certain gestures, sayings, or just his gentle and patient way with the kids (plus the fact that he spoils the kids!)....he is so much like my dad.

Which may be God's way of returning my dad to me, in a way, for the rest of my life here on earth.

I miss you Daddy, and I can't wait to see you again someday. Thank you for everything you were here on Earth.

Fun & Easy! Do It Yourself Flash Cards

I love finding fun (and inexpensive) ways to help my kids learn at home, and these flashcards are one way I save money AND stimulate my kids' minds. I've scoured the stores and all the flashcards I've found are either basic Alphabet letters (I already have two different sets of these), math skills, or boring pre-reading pictures. I was bored just looking at them! My son already knows the alphabet and I wanted cards that would help him sound out the letters and learn the word.

So.....here's all you need to make these fun & easy flashcards that serve a variety of purposes (more on that later).

MAGAZINES: Save your old magazines or better yet, visit your local library and ask for the 'give-away' magazine stacks. My local libraries have boxes of them for anyone to take so I can look through some I would never actually buy. There is a great variety; photography, family life, etc. Flip through looking for great pictures of basic things that your kid will recognize (or should be learning). The pictures need to be fairly small. You'll learn which are the best magazines. People magazine is entertaining to read but doesn't have the great pictures I can find in Martha Stewarts' Living or the Good Housekeeping magazines...ha....

TAPE: small and large clear varieties.

SCISSORS

SHARPIE MARKER

INDEX CARDS: I found the kind that are blank on both sides but regular ones with one blank side work fine.

Looking through the magazines, rip out any pictures that you want to use. Cut them to fit on the card and carefully tape into position using the small tape. I use just enough to secure the picture in one tiny area, where I won't be writing. Make sure you leave room on the card to write the word.

Use the marker to neatly write the word on the card.

Now using the large clear tape, carefully cover the entire picture. At this point it's fine if some tape covers the word. The tape acts as a 'laminate' for the picture and extends the life of your flashcards.

It's so fun to see what pictures and words you can use to make flashcards!

AGES 0 - 3; the child can review the pictures and learn what they are. I am always amazed at how many things Olivia (almost 2) actually correctly identifies!

AGES 3 - 5; as the child learns the alphabet you can start covering the picture at first and letting them practice sounding out the word. I love seeing how many words Samuel (almost 4) knows by either sight or sounding them out.

To switch it up for a pre-schooler, have them sort the cards by subject; "Which cards are food? Which ones are animals? Which ones are something you'd wear?"

A bonus for parents; take the cards with you and whip them out in those times when you need to entertain your child in a semi-quiet way (church, doctor's office, etc). My kids love looking at them during church and usually, I find nearby toddlers sneaking under the seat to join my kids and they all love looking through the cards!

I actually keep a record of which words I have on flashcards on the computer so I don't repeat the same word. This also helps me keep track of how many Olivia knows (about 25!) Currently I have 75 cards but that's because I've been doing this over a couple of months. I grab magazines here and there and do about 3-5 cards a week.

So have fun being creative and expanding your child's mind!

One last picture...this has nothing to do with the flashcards....here is Olivia with her 'laptop' set up by our computer, her bottle of water on the side...maybe she's updating her own blog? I love her!

Jesus Loves Those Cowboys, Knights, and Princesses.

It was a crowded arcade in a restaurant by the beach; the neon lights flashed and tinned music loudly competed for the attention of the kids playing the games. My attention was not on the games, however, but on the little girl. Enthralled, I just stood and watched her for awhile. Was she a Princess? A Fairy? A Bride? This fascinating girl of about 6 or 7 was dressed in what had obviously been a Flower Girl gown; you could see that it was not a ‘cheap’ costume or thrift store outfit. But the dress had probably served its purpose, and why let it go to waste or just give it away…? Ha….I could see that her mother, who was bemusedly watching her daughter play, just loved seeing her little girl have fun. Besides the beautiful dress, the little girl wore a plastic crown over her shoulder-length brown curls, and she proudly sported fancy plastic dress-up heels. With an abandon that only comes with childhood, this child was lost in her imagination as she scampered and played all over the carousel of horses and the benches lining the room. Of course her dress was getting dirty and her hair was messy. Some people may have clucked their tongues and commented over ‘wasting’ such a pretty dress, or how the girl wasn’t ‘behaving’ properly at the restaurant. I was years away from having my own kids, but my heart danced along with this sprite and I silently applauded her mother for allowing her to enjoy her freedom and creativity. That, I decided, would one day be me and my daughter, regardless of tongue clucking or disparaging comments from the less-imaginative folks.

I love the idea of imagination and creativity! Perhaps it comes from being the Youngest Child or from endless hours spent reading Anne of Green Gables (reknown for her over-active imagination!). But I realize I’ve always had my own active imagination and luckily….so very luckily…I had a mother who allowed it to grow. She understood that sometimes your room gets incredibly messy when the circus has come to town and all of your dolls/stuffed animals are busy performing. She knew that a Barbie scenario sometimes stretched over several days, meaning that once Ken and the girls were decked out in their finest and positioned all over the couch and coffee table, they shouldn’t be rushed away until the Ball was over in a few days. My parents fully embraced the idea that sometimes the living room should be arranged to accommodate a huge tent of quilts and blankets spread out over the various chairs and furniture. In fact, my dad would walk around the tent and chuckle when he got off work, and my mom would bring us dinner to eat in our tent.

Crazy? Maybe. Wonderful? Absolutely!

Of course I have friends with similar ideas. If you don’t read my friend Amy’s blog (The Adventures of the Miraflor Family), you should: her son Jake has a crazy imagination and always brings a smile to my face by his constant antics and creativity.

Sir Knight Jake and his trusty steed.

And then there is my friends Cheyenne and Robert (another great blog: Our Lovely Mess); they take their daughter to Fairy parks in Chicago and participate in searching for the elusive fairies. Robert even recently made these great toadstool stools for their yard…can you imagine the wonderful hours of imaginative play their kids will have with such great imaginative props?

Since becoming a parent, I’ve gotten into the habit of taking my kids to the local playgrounds. Unfortunately, this means I’ve discovered the Playground Nazis. These parents are NO JOKE and you will run into them eventually. They have strict ideas about how their kids should play on the play structures. You don’t run UP the slides, ever. You don’t touch the play structure with anything other than your feet. And God forbid their kids ever try to play on the OUTSIDE of the structure, like little monkeys! These Nazi Parents circle the structure like buzzards with their eyes never leaving their kids. They yell and gesture broadly when their kid dares disobey the Rules. I can’t ever decide if I should glare at them, laugh at them, or pity them. Don’t they understand that sometimes the play structure is a fort….sometimes a pirate ship…who knows? I can’t believe they are trying to restrict their kids’ play so much. As long as basic rules are followed, let the kids play! My kids know MY rules: let others take their turns. No pushing, shoving, or other inappropriate physical contact. Invite the quieter and shyer kids to play because you never know who might be a good friend. Have fun and don’t put up a fuss when we have to leave.

Please ignore the mess! Samuel and Olivia being crazy Saturday night.

Speaking of appropriate behavior, I hope people don’t think my husband and I are allowing our kids to grow up without any guidelines just because we want to foster their imagination! Oh no…trust me….these kids get their share of discipline. We try hard to teach them correct behavior…manners…etc. How to behave in church, how to be nice and polite, and what is expected of them. They have chores from the time they can walk; they know to put trash away, dishes in the sink, dirty clothes in the hamper, and toys in the toybox.

Samuel and Olivia safely in their boat with their toys that they just barely managed to 'rescue from the water'.

But we also don’t stress out when Samuel wants to wear his cowboy boots with his church clothes, like he did yesterday (he was very serious!):

I loved it when my friend allowed her young daughter to wear her Minnie Mouse dress to church.

Why not? I don’t think God would mind at all if we let our kids come sometimes in mismatched costumes and outfits. In fact, Jesus loved and spoke about the minds of innocent children. He told US to be more like THEM, with their pure hearts! Perhaps if we stressed LESS about what our children chose to wear (within modest reason!) and MORE about their little hearts learning to love Jesus, they might grow up loving Him with more abandon and sincerity.

Just a thought.

And you know what? People get paid BIG MONEY to be creative in the grown-up world, in certain jobs! Having brilliant and creative ideas for ads, photography, etc. pays off in some careers. If those people hadn't been allowed to grow an imagination, how dull our world would be.

For now, let me just warn you. You never know how my kids will look when they leave our house. But I will not notice or pay attention to any tongue-clucking or head-shaking so don't bother with either. Life happens soon enough, with all of the heartache and seriousness and responsibility. My kids will face betrayal and sadness before I am ready for them too...so for now, let them be Princesses or dragons or whatever they choose to pretend to be. Let their imaginations soar. Let them be innocent, carefree kids.

Like all of us wish we could be...once again.

Snakes & Snails & Puppy Dog Tails...

...that's what little boys are made of!

Oh, how many times does that little nursery rhyme echo in my head! I totally agree with it, too.

Well, luckily we don't have any actual snakes here in Hawaii...except in the Zoo. But of course, Samuel loves looking at all the pictures of snakes in his books. He recently had a book with full-page color pictures of snakes eating huge eggs with that scary mouth-stretching digestion-whatever action that they do. It was so disgusting to me I couldn't even look at it. He, of course, loved it.

And puppy dog tails...well, we got rid of our poor little doggie for several reasons; one being that Samuel wasn't as gentle with her as he should have been. So her and her little tail are safely in Maui now with a nice non-little boy family.

But the snails...oh my. Here in Hawaii we have huge snails and they love coming out at night when the grass is damp. And Samuel LOVES to go out looking at all the snails. So far he just likes to poke at them with a stick, making their slimy little bodies hastily retreat into the shells. Then he pushes them down hills and across the sidewalk. Poor things. At least they aren't getting smashed or otherwise killed. He hasn't thought of that yet, I'm sure.

Poking a snail on our snail hunt last night.

He insisted on getting pictures of ALL the snails he saw last night. For your sake I won't upload them all :)

Telling me about the "Daddy and baby snail"

As my kids get older, it is becoming more and more obvious how different they are as a boy VS. a girl. I sort of thought it was a bit cliche to say this, but they really are THAT different!

A look into a 3-almost-4 year old boy's head:

Samuel hears loud noises and runs toward them excitedly. Olivia runs to me and hides her face.

Samuel sees a bug and happily smashes it with his BARE FOOT, then rubs it off his foot while taunting it; "Ha ha bug, I got you with my foot!" Olivia wrinkles her nose and points to him with a disgusted "Ewwww!"

Samuel climbs everything in sight and usually jumps from it, no matter how high.

Every toy is not a toy. It is either a missile or weapon disguised as a toy. And if possible, it should be dismembered as much as possible to see how it works.

My 2-yr old enjoying some Cholula hot sauce. Real men drink it straight from the bottle.

Birds should be chased. Comments should be shouted. Sisters can be bitten. Dirt looks best thrown into the air and allowed to settle in your hair. Scars are cool. Burps should be done in public as loudly as possible and repeated if no one reacts right away. Permanent black markers make great pictures on your body...and on your little sister's face.

Now he has chest hair and Olivia has....?? Whiskers?

The list could go on an on....

So many times, I thank God for my little girl. She's a tough one; she has to be in order to survive! But she's very much a little girl who protests if Daddy or Samuel burps, or if she sees a bug, or if Samuel makes a mess. She's my little balance in life to all of Samuel's boy-ish-ness.

I never had a little brother so I have been a little overwhelmed at his actions, to tell the truth. Many times I've gotten frustrated. But THANKFULLY I bought the book by Dr. Dobson "Bringing Up Boys". Oh man, that book has helped me so much! It explains all the differences between the sexes and WHY boys act they way that they do. They aren't being disobedient or willfully bad ALL the time. It's their energy levels...testosterone, etc.

I love learning how to understand my little boy. He's really a sweetie and I would do anything for him. I don't want him to be a "Momma's Boy" but I DO want to have a lifetime closeness with him. He's precious and brings such joy to my heart in so many ways...flashing the "I Love You" in sign language to me during church...wanting to hold my hand when he falls asleep for his nap in the afternoon...coming up and buttoning the VERY top button of my shirt and kindly telling me, "I've got this, Mommy. Here....all done now." The funniest is when I help him with a task and he cheers; "Yay! Good job, buddy!"

Samuel, I hope I am always your buddy. I would be honored.

Thank goodness for people who have 'been there, done that' with boys, because I find their advice and insight invaluable. And I'm so thankful for my other friends raising little boys, because we can compare notes and I realize I'm not going insane.

Or if I am, at least I'm not alone!

THANK HEAVEN for little boys :)

My Selfish Confession for the Day

Last year at this time, I was crying and moaning about my baby boy going off to his first day of school. Well, in my defense, he was only TWO and it was to a preschool at a REGULAR public elementary school! With a birthday in August, he's one of those late fall babies that are always a little younger than the other classmates. He turned three a few weeks after school started.

Fast forward to this year; first day of school once more...and I am certainly not crying and moaning about anything...haha! Yes he's still three (turns four soon) and it's the same preschool at the same public school, but things are much different this year.

He's been asking about school ALL SUMMER LONG and this, to put it mildly, has been an annoying echo in my ears. Every single day and usually several times a day. SHEESH!

But on a serious note, he thrives so well at school. He has a speech delay and receives speech therapy at school, and this has really, really helped him by leaps and bounds. Just comparing his speech from now to one year ago is astounding. Public education (and Hawaii's system in particular) may have downfalls in some areas but I give his teachers and speech therapist a standing ovation. They have done wonders with him and certainly deserve the appreciation.

Totally ecstatic to return to the classroom this morning.

Also, from a purely selfish parent stand-point, I've noticed that he behaves better when school is in session! All those hours of following instructions and copying his peers...during the school year he listens and obeys so much better than in the summer time. Am I alone in noticing this...is it just my kid?!?

And then there's the pickiness about food...heavens; I do not know how he survives in the summer because he eats so very, very little. It's a nightmare and we've tried everything. But during the school year....yeah...he eats so much better! Something about eating the cafeteria food (blech) with all his buddies transforms him into a lot less pickier eater at home.

And one more selfish parent thing; the house is quieter in the morning, I get a whole lot more done, I get to have some nice one-on-one time with Olivia, and I can even lie down with her when she takes a nap and if I'm lucky, I get a short nap too! Whoo-hoo! I know, totally selfish. But awesome.

Last year she was just crawling; this year she walked with him to school.

So no tears for me this year! I know that in the future, I may want to follow my original plans and homeschool Samuel, but for now, he is in the best possible situation for his needs. He is getting so much help and positive enrichment and I would be selfish to remove him from that environment at this time.

And today I got the floor picked up & vacuumed, the dishes done, and ALL of my laundry done before noon! Wowsers! AND I get to sit here in the quiet while Olivia is napping, and update my blog! Thank you, return of the school year :)

I love you Samuel, but have a great day at school!

Crazy Ninja Laundry Skills and...Baptism??

I've had more people asking about the source of my Laundry Ninja Powers, so I decided to write a little blog about it. But in the course of taking some pictures for this blog, I was reminded of a story that my Pastor always tells that demonstrates the necessity of baptism. So here you go, people...a devotional along with a valuable laundry tip!

Why is baptism so important? The symbolic washing away of our sins by getting dunked in water... is it really that important to God that we go through this routine?

As Pastor relates...he has three girls, and his wife loves to dress them up in pretty dresses and get them all nice for church. He caution them to NOT go out and play in the mud puddles that were so tempting outside. The youngest, in particular, loves to play in mud puddles. Invariably, she couldn't resist the temptation and soon was coming to her parents, sobbing in dismay and fear, because her beautiful church dress was soiled.

Like this exquisite white dress that my sister bought for Olivia at a boutique in the Ozarks. It is lovely; with delicate hand-made designs on the silky over-lay. I love this dress and love to see my daughter in it. But I didn't love when she spilled a drink all over it while eating after church one day.

Ugh! What a mess! Just like our lives...when they are stained with sin.

As a loving father, he takes his daughter into the house and his wife washes the little girl off, and they give her a clean dress to wear. All clean! Just like what baptism does.

But why is this so important?

Because of two simple truths. Our Father wants to see us washed and cleansed from all of our sins because otherwise, every time He is looked at us, He would be reminded of how we were disobedient to Him. How we sinned and were stained in filth. On the contrary, He wants to see us washed, clean, and made whole; He casts our sins into the sea of forgetfulness and wants to NEVER remember them again!

Secondly, every time WE would look at OURSELVES, we'd be reminded of our disobedience. Our failures. The mistakes we'd made. The grime and slime of our choices.

But baptism not only makes us clean for our Father, it makes us clean for ourselves; we don't have to keep remembering our sin and shame.

It's all washed away. We are clean! Pure!

What a miracle!

In the case of my daughter, my miracle is this soap: Fels-Naptha!

A good friend of mine cares for elderly patients in her home as a private business. She deals with tons of stains and depends on this soap every day. It's simple; you just get the garment wet in the stained area, and rub this soap on it. Vigorously scrub by hand, sometimes repeating. You may start to see the stain disappear but not always. Then wash the garment with your other laundry and check it after the washing cycle is done. 9 and 1/2 times out of 10, it's spotless!

I am not a fan of using harsh, toxic bleach on my clothes, although it certainly gets used in other areas of my home. I've used Fels-Naptha successfully on stains of blood, mud, throw-up, deodorant stains, food of all kinds, poop, grass,

and even the red dirt stains that are Hawaii is notorious for,

with its' dirt left over from flowing lava.

My favorite story is how I was selling a vintage Coca-Cola sweater on eBay that actually had been stored with some bottles of Coke that had leaked all over the sweater for 15 years as they sat in storage. I detailed the stains in my eBay listing so the buyer would know what they were getting, and a man in Ireland bought the sweater 'as is'. However, before shipping it, I wondered what it would hurt if I tried washing it with Fels-Naptha soap? To my amazement, the stains from over a decade ago completely came out! I shipped it to the buyer in Ireland and told him what I'd done; needless to say he was very pleased to be getting a totally stain-free sweater!

I looked up this soap online and found that it's actually been around for over 100 years! Something like that has got to be a quality product. You can order it online (www.felsnaptha.com) or get it at most drug stores in the laundry soap aisle; I get mine at our local Long's drugstore.

So there you have it; two simple reasons why baptism is important and the secret to my amazingly stain-free clothes, in spite of my having two small kids!

The Toys Are Alive!

I love the Toy Story Trilogy! Well, as the mom of two small kids, I have to love it or I'd go insane since they love to watch it every day...and every toy section of every store is currently bursting with the latest TS3 characters in addition to the old favorites.

But I do actually love the movie for myself...my grown-up, supposedly mature self. I mentioned this on a Facebook status recently and it's a true confession from my heart; I also believe that toys are alive when humans are not around.

I was always a BIG lover of stuffed animals and baby dolls, including paper dolls and Barbies. These were the main source of my conviction about the alive toys belief. I would carefully line them up on my bed in the morning and when I returned from school, I could tell that they had all moved around during the day and were pretending to be put back into the exact places where I'd left them. I'd look deep into their eyes and whisper secrets and I KNEW they were listening.

So by watching Toy Story, it's like confirming my long-held beliefs. The little girl hidden away in my heart whispers; "See, I knew it!"

And as a grown-up parent, it thrills me to see my kids watching these movies because during and afterwards, they want to play with their own toys in a way that is excellent for little imaginations. I can tell that their little brains are hard at work creating exciting adventures with their trains or stuffed animals.

Here's Samuel and Olivia last night, playing "Toy Story" as Samuel calls it. You can see that some key characters are missing, but are being played by excellent stand-ins that Samuel has chosen...

If you are familiar with the third Toy Story, you'll understand the Care Bear substitute; Samuel told us that he was "the mean bear".

Woody is riding a zebra and Evil Dr. Porkchop is Samuel's piggy bank; he made absolutely sure that there are actually coins in it that he can shake out when being forced to by Mr. Potato Head.

A twist to the usual plot is that Samuel has Slinky actually 'eat' the train and all the train pieces end up inside Slinky's coils. And the Rex stand-in tried to eat Olivia's Polly Pocket dolly but I think Buzz saved her later in the evening, so all is well.

Just look at those toys! You know they love being played with. And sometimes when I get up at night and have to come in for a drink of water, I glance around the living room and see some of them scattered on the floor. I get the distinct feeling I've just interrupted something and am always quick to assure them to feel free to carry on as soon as I've returned to bed.

I know they can hear me.

9 Years Milestone

I love Norman Rockwell paintings, and this one always brings a smile to my face:

And I actually have alot in common with the sailor, if you made him a girl and instead of the tattoos being of women's names, make them places I've lived.

I was thinking about it the other day when I realized, much to my honest amazement, that I've lived in Hawaii almost 9 years! You see, 9 years is the maximum I've ever lived in a state. To briefly recap:

Born in Missouri, moved from there to Louisiana when I was 9 yrs old.

Lived in Louisiana until high school graduation, moved to California when I was 18.

Lived in Stockton CA until age 21, moved to North Carolina.

Lived in North Carolina for about 2 yrs, moved to Texas.

Lived in Texas for about 6 months, moved back to California.

Lived in California for 3 more years, moved to Hawaii.

I won't even go into how many times I moved WITHIN each state; to/from various towns or homes.

WHY all the moving, one may (legitimately) ask. No, we weren't on the run from the law or a military family (my dad got out of the Navy before he married my mom). There were always good reasons. My dad's retirement. Moving to a town with better schools and opportunities. Moving to help a family member. Moving for college. It was always something and my parents often joked that we had Gypsy blood, or that we were really hippies at heart. And the funny thing was, we liked moving so much. It's addicting to start over in a new place, although sad to say good-bye to friends. Thankfully Facebook has allowed me to reconnect with friends I made all over the country!

We are expert packers. We can pack up at house and move in 2 weeks (yes I've done that!). We know how to get settled and make new friends without constantly comparing the new place to the old place. We got used to moving to the point that one summer, I got back from youth camp and exhausted, slept in late the next day. When I woke up and stumbled into the living room, the first thing I saw was a new collection of boxes and after a big yawn, the first thing out of my mouth was; "Ooo, where are we moving to now?" My parents laughed about that reaction for awhile.

So anyway, the thing about all this moving around is that sometimes, we get restless. Very restless. The house starts to close in and smell funny....well, maybe the smell part is my imagination. But we get tired of the same old routines. The best way I can describe it is to remember this scene from the movie Chocolate, where the heroine goes out to the river and is just standing there, contemplating. Suddenly the North Wind starts to blow and you see her lift her head and take a deep breath while a strange light begins to burn in her eyes. In her soul, she answers the North Wind and knows....it's time to move on.

If you've ever felt it, you understand. If you haven't, you never can.

It's a joke in my family; we'll call someone up and in the course of the conversation, tell the other person that we feel the North Wind. They always understand and sometimes, agree. If my sister tells me she feels the North Wind, we are so connected that I feel it in my soul too.

So I said all of this to just say....nine years is a long time.

I love Hawaii and could live here for the rest of my life, but this little house is closing in on me.

It's starting to smell, and if I close my eyes and open my heart,

I feel the North Wind on my face.

The Scatterbrain-ed-ness of Pregnancy Thoughts

Our computer is in the shop...somewhere on the mainland....BOO HOO! It's hard to live without it! Thankfully I have my nifty handheld device with which I can access FB, email, online news, etc. And when my husband steps away from the house (like now), I can jump on his work laptop.

Anyway, although I can't blog as often as I originally imagined I would, I still have amazing thoughts all day, believe me. Sometimes I mentally write out huge awesome blogs that would be interesting and life-changing...ha...but I never get the chance to sit down and put those thoughts onto paper. Well, not paper, but onto Blogger.

Here's a glimpse into my thoughts yesterday, maybe something will make you laugh or inspire you!

I've discovered that I can get the housework done SUPER FAST if I wait until my husband is off work. He entertains the kids! Fills their sippy cups! Starts a movie for them! Makes them pick up toys! While they are busy with him, I can clean the bathroom, start a load of laundry, sweep and mop all the floors, vacuum, and start dinner. To do this during the day would take triple the time because of course, I have to stop a billion times to tend to the kids. PLUS it's much cooler in the evening so I'm not dripping with sweat the whole time. Nice to make this discovery.

It's the middle of the year and I feel like I'm at the top of a hill, headed down to the end of the year. And actually I'm trying to find ways to make the ride downhill go faster! It's like this when I'm pregnant. Pregnancy is just so long and after awhile it's like....are we done yet?!? Ha...so here's my mental schedule for the rest of the year:

July is our church 10th Anniversary service and I'm busy organizing a Coffee Bar for the celebrations. Then we are having a huge family BBQ at the horse ranch later this month. I promise not to ride this time; last time I WAS sore in the abdomen afterwards and a bit concerned about the pregnancy.

August is Samuel's 4th birthday and we want to plan a little party since there are a million kids at church for him to have fun with....plus his second year of preschool starts. I'm already buying school supplies...yikes!

September has nothing planned. Please, someone give me ideas...

October is Olivia's 2nd birthday and I have no idea what to do for her. My mom is coming around the end of the month and she'll help me complete my famous TO DO lists that HAVE to be done before the Baby comes.

November is BABY TIME and luckily, that throws me right into Thanksgiving. And since I'll be recently post-partum the family doesn't expect me to cook ANYTHING. Yay! I get to stuff my face and remain seated the whole time.

December is CHRISTMAS, with all the decorating, parties, and shopping. AND my mom will still be here to help me with everything! Fun!

Other random thoughts in my head....I am thankful for my family's health. A good friend recently went through a huge cancer scare and is OK but painfully recovering at home after spinal cord surgery. Seriously, nothing like THAT to make you look around and take stock in your own life and BE THANKFUL.

I wonder if the recession really does cause more marriages to break up? I have a bunch of friends going through divorce right now. My prayin' knees are NOT getting lazy, that's for sure.

Having a friend like Amy who sews tremendously and makes money doing so makes me feel like I shouldn't even bother sewing anything....ha...she'll kill me for saying this. But I remind myself that I sew for FUN and that's all that matters. She's amazing though and I totally cheer for her business.

Olivia says about 40-50 words now, including a dozen 2 or 3-word phrases. I can't believe it. Elton and I constantly shake our heads in amazement at her vocabulary. She'll hear a word and repeat it several times, working hard to say it right and memorize it. I went through Samuel's flash cards with her and she knows at least 18-20 of the words, even some I had NO idea she even knew what they were! She gets those cards down and sorts through them, quietly repeating the words she knows and trying to say new ones. I keep reminding myself though....not to get too proud....she is probably considered totally normal for a girl her age. It's Samuel who is speech delayed and we were accustomed to his delay, which makes her speech abilities seem incredible.

WHEW long blog! But fun to sift through my thoughts and get them all out there. Now to log off and get this FRIDAY started :)

I Don't Know What To Call This Blog Post

This is a ranting blog of pure disbelief; are you ready?

Yesterday I was at a 7-11 with Samuel, and there were several people ahead of us in the two lines. I heard a woman buying $80 worth of something and for a second, I assumed it was for gas or some of the liquor or cigarettes stored behind the counter since she wasn't holding anything in her hand to purchase. But then I realized she was buying one of those pre-paid Farmville Cash cards! $80 in cash to play with fake money on a virtual game!

I couldn't even begin to assimilate all the swirling thoughts in my disbelieving brain....about a minute passed and the line moved forward slightly. And then I saw another woman paying $60 cash and pointing to the selection of Zynga virtual game cash cards, as well! "Umm, that one....oh wait, no, THAT one right there," she directed the store clerk. I'm certain this was one of those rare moments in my life time when I was truly speechless.

I fumed all the way home.

I've been known to play Farmville. There, I admit it. It used to be a fun way to enjoy my morning coffee and sort of click around, gathering my thoughts for the day. Once the coffee was done, that was it. DISCLAIMER: I never, ever, ever, once used a credit card or any other means to purchase 'cash' or 'coins' to use in the game. Also, the game got too complicated and began taking up more time than it took for me to finish my morning coffee. I simply quit playing it. Done.

I just do NOT understand how some people can spend REAL cash on ludicrous things like this! I mean seriously people....you don't get ANYTHING in return! You are paying for a pixelated image that exists in cyberspace! I am not an advocate for the lottery, which is another waste of time, but AT LEAST with a lottery ticket you could possibly win SOMETHING, right? I don't play the lottery but from what I understand, besides the huge jackpot there are smaller prizes; you can play scratch-off something-or-other and win anything from a couple of dollars to maybe a few thousand. At least in this case you are likely to win real legal tender....unlike the virtual world where you are buying...what?!? Faster growing crops? More horses to go into your virtual barn?

This is the thing that really gets to me: Hawaii is suffering greatly in this recession. It has already impacted me because as a way to save money, our brilliant leaders decided to shorten our school years and introduced "Furlough Fridays". Kids stay home and go untaught except for the efforts of parents like me, who are fortunate to stay home and try to homeschool our kids. State workers have been furloughed, meaning that on those Fridays, state offices such as the DMV, etc. are closed. Many of my friends are state employees and these unpaid days are hurting them. And then recently, they announced that Police officers would now have rotating furlough days, as well! So we are sacrificing not only our educational system, but now our protective and security forces.

I know about the crime and all the other negative aspects of allowing legal gambling in a state, and so far Hawaii has voted down allowing everything from the lottery to casinos. I have agreed and will continue to hope that we keep that element out of our state. However for the sake of honesty, I will admit that the thought crossed my mind: if dumb heads are willing to throw their money away for computer-generated avatars that only benefit a company like Zynga, wouldn't it be better to have a way for those people to throw their money away in a way that will at least benefit our own state economy?

Bottom line: we are struggling, people. So many of my friends are scraping by, depending on hand-outs from our church food bank supply or public welfare programs. There are people even in my church without a home; they live in a tented-off area of a family members' carport. The whole state is deeply in debt.

And yet, here I find myself trying to understand how there can be IDIOTS out there who spend so much money on....nothing.

OK, end of rant. Sorry for the negative and raging blog post but I seriously needed to get this out of my system!

No Longer A Surprise

It's been so long, but I have to offer up the excuse that life has been CRAZY in the last month or so. Friends going through amazingly difficult trials; marital problems, the death of loved ones, financial disasters, life-threatening illnesses...that old saying about life being a roller-coaster has been painfully relevant. The truth is; I'm sick to my stomach from this roller-coaster ride and it's only by the grace of God that I am still sane.

LUCKILY in my own little personal life there are no major dramas. My husband still has his job. We have a roof over our heads. My husband and I, and the kids, are in good health. The one good thing that comes from this roller-coaster ride is that I am daily aware of, and immensely grateful for, the simple blessings in my own life. Well, one more thing; my prayer life is vibrantly alive and my trust in Him constant!

Anyway, the whole point of this blog is just this rambling notification to those who might care; Elton and I have decided that we want to find out the sex of this baby, after all. We had originally thought we'd like to wait until it's born in November, but we've been having mixed feelings about it and today had a talk.

There are several reasons. We feel like we'll bond better with the baby if we know what "it" is ahead of time. This week I've been organizing and packing away the kids' outgrown clothing and as I did so, I pulled out all the 'generic' sex (green, white, yellow) newborn items to store separately. I feel strangely disconnected as I did so; as if I were just putting clothes together for a friends' baby instead of my own. Later I thought about how excited I was before Samuel was born, seeing all the tiny blue clothes...and how thrilling it was before Olivia was born to fondle all the pink girlie things in giddy anticipation. It's hard to feel excited or giddy over green, yellow, or white baby things, let me tell you!

Plus, there is always an element of disappointment when you find out what the baby is NOT. Well, for us there is anyway. We thought Samuel might be a girl (the needle test said it was!) and when we found out he wasn't, we were thrilled, but it took a couple of days to mentally give up the idea of a sweet girl. Of course we were profoundly happy to have our firstborn son! With Olivia we were excited beyond measure to know we were having our sweet girl but admittedly, slightly sad that Samuel wouldn't have a brother....yet. Maybe we're just sentimental weirdos but I'm just being honest.

We REALLY want a boy this time so Samuel will have a brother, Elton especially so. But we REALLY want a girl to make sure that Olivia has a sister, and I have such a close relationship with my sisters that I would be fine, too, if all the rest of my children were girls! So see....when we find out what "it" is there will still be slight feelings of disappointment one way or another. And I'd MUCH rather deal with that now, months before the baby arrives, so that when we are in the delivery room we'll be 100% ready and excited!

Last reason, and this one is more personal; I've been holding in feelings of excitement about this baby because of my fear of losing it. I guess having had a miscarriage will do this to you. I feel like if I find out what "it" is, I'll be able to relax some more and allow myself to bond even more with this one. I'm almost 20 weeks; halfway, and surely by now I can let myself revel in this blessing a bit more.

AND SO....next week is our ultrasound and it will be a fun family event; the four of us peering at the grainy, fuzzy black and white ultrasound images, anxiously trying to see what "it" is that we expecting!

Ending on a funny note; Samuel is totally into the "I got your nose" game, except that he's taken it one step further by pretending to grab your nose, pop it into his mouth, chew and swallow it with a very exaggerated gulp that produces a burp. Well yesterday the kids were watching me dress and Olivia did her sweet smile and wave with a "Hi baby!", and Samuel put his hands on either side to gently squeeze while he kissed my tummy. Then he hesitated, and quickly grabbed at my belly and held up his hand; "Mommy, I got the baby's nose!" he squealed, and then of course "ate" it.

Poor "it"; not even born yet and already missing "it's" nose. Just a small sign of the years to come with an older brother and sister....