Peace On Earth....

I have tried, like I've done so often the past few years, to walk away from the thoughts running through my head.  To walk away long enough to get the "real" to do list completed and leave the blog for another day, but, alas, this one won't leave me alone...not today...So, I ask that you LISTEN to this video...that you take in the words and the message.  Let it sink in to depths of what you believe...what you believe about God, about Faith, about humanity, about YOU.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F756Mjxxrvc


What if we each truly believed in Peace on earth?  What if we each examined our own thoughts and feelings and beliefs about each other to see if they really brought Peace?  What if we each vowed to bring Peace to our small corner of the world?  What if we each vowed that Peace would reign in our own souls, our own homes, our own neighborhoods, our own towns, until Peace reigned everywhere?

What if we truly believed that "God is not dead, nor doth he sleep."?  What if we surrendered our hatred, our need to be right and, most of all, our fear?  What IF????

A letter to my daughter

I really hemmed and hawed over the title of this blog post...there were so many things running through my mind....how God uses my children to teach ME...how God truly does care about the littlest parts of our lives...how he TRULY cares about the LITTLEST lives....how he reveals himself to the smallest among us...how prayer REALLY is the solution...or simply a letter to my daughter.

My Dearest Legare,

An amazing thing happened last night.  Since you are only 4, I'm afraid in such a short time you won't even remember what transpired, but I want you to always carry this FAITH/life lesson with you, so I'm writing to you that you may have this with you.

See, you have been having such a hard time sleeping alone in your room.  This has been going on for weeks and no matter how much your daddy and I encourage you, comfort you, and talk to you about it, you just won't stay in your bed.  At first you were coming to our room, you'd get to stay for a minute or two, then one of us would hug and take you back to your room, only for the process to repeat itself at least one more time during the night.  You would cry and talk about being scared, and we'd assure you all is well.  After a few weeks, you realized that if you go to Collin's room, he'd let you stay.  Well, "let" is a strong word, he wouldn't know you were there 'til morning, but you could be close to someone and that was enough.

This concerned daddy and me.  We couldn't understand why you wouldn't stay in your room, and, frankly, Collin was getting bothered by sharing his bed all of the time.  So, we began to encourage to stay in your room.  As you talked to us about your fears we learned that you have bad dreams every night and that's why you don't want to be alone.  Daddy suggested we pray, and, if I'm being honest, I laughed.  It seemed such a small, insignificant thing to pray about.  And despite of my unwavering faith, and a strong prayer life, I really thought it was such a silly thing to pray over and that, well, what if you had a bad dream anyway and felt like you couldn't trust God.  SHAME, SHAME on your mom.  When it felt like there was nothing else we could do (bad timing) we prayed.  As part of your night-time prayers you asked God to give you only good dreams.  I laid with you in your bed, held your hands and prayed out loud that God would be with you that night...that he would enter you thoughts and fill your mind with wonderful dreams...that he would make your room feel safe...and that he would reveal himself to you as your protector and your comforter that you would KNOW and BELIEVE HE is always with you, and always listening.

Then I asked others to pray too...petitioning God on your behalf...

And sweetheart, this morning, you were sleeping soundly in YOUR BED.  You had not stirred all night long.  When you woke you were excited to tell me that you only had good dreams.  God was with you.  God answered your prayer.  He honored, what to your mom was such a mundane, little thing, but to you was so huge and because it was important to you it was important to him.  While my intention was for this lesson to be for you, I find, once again, God using you to teach ME.

Hugs and Kisses, and all of the love in the world!
-Mom

Home

I grew up knowing “home” as most civilian children do.  It was the structure I lived in for most of my childhood.  It was the town where I went to school and church.  It was where I played, rode bikes, participated in sports and danced.   I lived in the same house, in the same town for 12 years.  To this day I know it well, and have never lived anywhere as long as I did there.  I have great nostalgia about that town, that house.  I smile each time I think of the friends and the memories.  I’ve probably even romanticized it all a bit over the years.  There’s a comfort in knowing that one place, some sort of solace in the uninterrupted monotony of it all.  And it has left me to wonder if my own children will ever know home.

Over a decade and 3 children into this military life, we have moved 9 times.   To date, our youngsters don’t really remember the moves.  They know we talk about a house in Jacksonville and that we haven’t always lived in the same place.  But there are moves to come that they will experience with all of the adventure a PCS holds; in addition to all of the stress and emotion.  I have to admit that there is a part of me that is pained when I think that my children may never return to a town (whether in their minds or in their travels) and instantly be transported to a place in their lives, long past, that was fully of joy and discovery and family and love.

As I wrestle with this thought I am struck by something my mother-in-law said years ago.  My mother-in-law is a military brat, specifically a Marine Corps brat, just like my own children.  She never knew home in the sense that many civilian children do.  Yet, as a mother herself, years after leaving her last base, more years in fact than she had ever lived on base, she found herself at MCB Quantico for her son’s OCS graduation.  She had never been to Quantico before.  My father-in-law joked, asking if it looked familiar.  With the same gleam in her eye, the same nostalgia, the instant transport to another time, she said, “No, it just feels like home.”

In that simple statement I have found such great comfort and truth.  My children’s sense of home may not be my own, but it is no less strong.  In the midst of an ever -changing lifestyle there are still constants for them to cling to, even if it’s an MP checking IDs, little red signs with gold lettering, old brick buildings, a salute, a uniform or Taps in the evening.

Vaccinations and the Continuing Mommy Wars

This seems an odd post for my first one in 6 months, especially considering that I haven't even introduced Miss Adley, but this one is sitting heavy on my mind and the only way to let it go is to write.  So, here are my thoughts on vaccines and the mommy wars.

Just a day after watching a new video (forget it's a commercial, and for formula, oh dear!) about how parents (moms specifically) should give each other a break and stop the warring,  

I read an article that, I think, sets the conversation back to zero.  Not because I don't understand that he's trying to stir the pot, but because he is choosing to stir the pot on such a sensitive subject.
http://healthimpactnews.com/2015/arizona-cardiologist-responds-to-critics-regarding-measles-and-vaccines/

Dr. Jack Wolfson, who has gotten a lot of attention in the past few days with his adamant stance opposing vaccines, chose to respond to his "haters" with a knee jerk, arrogant tirade tearing down everyone from food companies to doctors (not him of course) to our own parents - yes, he thinks we should be angry with our own parents for not co-sleeping and for allowing us to eat pizza.  Instead of simply making his case against vaccines, giving the facts, and asking that we stop vilifying those who choose against them he feeds the frenzy.  And why?  To what end?
The reality is that there is a reason money and research were committed to creating these vaccines, and while I'm a conspiracy theorist, I don't believe it was just for profit. They were created because the disease was considered awful enough that there was a need to eradicate it.  They are given because the risk of death/maiming from infection is higher than the risk of a reaction to the vaccine.  I would dare those who find these diseases to be benign to speak with someone who has suffered through one or someone who lost a child because of one.  Check the facts on flu deaths, because they do exist.
The biggest issue with vaccinations, different from breastfeeding or crying it out, is that it impacts everyone, not just your child.  I agree with the father in the following blog, "your child does not live in a bubble, when your child gets sick other children are exposed..."
http://www.kidnurse.org/parents-unvaccinated-child-exposed-family-measles/

The other dangerous issue at hand is a complete distrust of doctors.  Somehow google and social media has us all thinking that we know more than the people with medical degrees.  While I don't think doctors are without flaws, I do believe that as a parent you should find a pediatrician you like and you trust and you agree with.  If not, why have one?  What's the point in taking your child to a doctor you don't believe?  If you are using a pediatrician who supports your method of parenting (whatever that may be) you should trust the information you are getting and NOT blow him/her off as a close-minded quack, and then proceed to take the advice of Jenny McCarthy (who has no medical background at all) or even a cardiologist, who seems to think he is the only doctor who isn't a quack and is not your child's pediatrician.

The bottom line is, as Papa Bear in the aforementioned blog post said, "I assume you love your child(ren) just like I love mine.  I assume that you are trying to make good choices regarding their care."  But when it comes to vaccines your choices impact others.
As far as your decisions (or mine) regarding breastfeeding or formula, co-sleep or cry it out, free-range or helicopter we are all simply doing the best we can for our children.  To judge what another is doing is not only to assume your way is the only way, but is to imply that somehow you must love your child(ren) more, and that, I take issue with.  Even Papa Bear assumes you love your children and are just doing the best you can.

What I Should Have Said...

I am an emotional person, who does NOT like to be emotional.  This is particularly the case when something, whether happy or sad, is going to make me cry.  So, I typically avoid it at all costs by either ignoring it, running away from it or covering it in sarcasm.  Apparently, this also applied to my sister's wedding.  I subconsciously covered every emotional moment in sarcasm or just flat pretended it wasn't happening.  In the end, I realized that I cheated her out of hearing what I really wanted to say when it came time for my toast.  So, for her and Marshall, and everyone else, here is what I should have said (and yes, I'm going to cry as I type)...

Kelly was blessed, or cursed, with having two mothers.  There is her mom, who actually gave birth to her and then there's me, the older sister, who has always felt an almost maternal need to protect her, watch over her and push her to be her best.  As her other mother, I'm not sure I ever really believed we'd see this day; not because Kelly has a fear of commitment (though there was a point we weren't sure), not because she didn't want it more than anything, but more because I didn't think anyone would ever be good enough and because I am selfish and didn't want to lose my time with her.
Over the years the guys have come and gone, some more serious than others, but, inevitably, they'd always be gone.  And, if I'm being honest, that's how I liked it.  But then, there was Marshall.  The first guy Kelly didn't try to push away, and the first guy who wouldn't run if she did.  There was all measure of critiquing from me, some of which Marshall heard first-hand and he still didn't run.  Then there's actually meeting the family and realizing that this family can often be a little more than you bargain for, and he still didn't run.  Of course there's Kelly's crazy side too.  Yes, even that, Marshall saw and was still hanging around.  I'm not sure when it dawned on me, but I remember it hitting me like a ton of bricks...this man loves her.  This man loves her like my dad loves my mom.  This man loves her like Robert loves me.  Most importantly, this man loves her the way SHE needs to be loved...what more could I ask for for her.  In return, she loves him...she loves him like my mom loves my dad, like I love Robert and I hope and pray that it's the way Marshall needs to be loved.
My marriage is one of God's greatest gifts to me and I hope, today and years from now, that Kelly and Marshall can say the same thing.
So, here's to the bride, my sister, my confidante and friend.  Here's to the new couple and a lifetime of faith, love, devotion, selfless giving and happiness. Here's to a new family, one I am excited and blessed to be a part of.  Here's to the new Mr and Mrs Connor.

Slumber Party!

I never feel like it happens often, but every now and then I have a great idea that leads to a "good mom" moment.  Whenever Robert is gone I try desperately to make the time pass quickly (and keep everyone distracted) by keeping us very busy doing things that aren't necessarily normal.  I'm learning that these things are as beneficial for me as they are for the kiddos.  So, in the week he's been out of town we've had two dinner dates, an evening with a babysitter (yes, I left the house), a play date and...a slumber party. 
I couldn't have imagined the excitement of a slumber party that takes place in your own home, with your sibling and mom.  When I initially suggested it, I expected a disappointed reaction from Collin who would be hoping to have a friend over for the night or hoping to go to someone else's house.  Instead, they both started squealing and making plans for our slumber party.  It couldn't have been better.  All of a sudden our leftover dinner and bath time were the best, just because it was part of the slumber party.  Even going to bed was fun!  So, with ice cream in hand we headed to my room for dessert, games and some basketball.

 

 

It was a great night, and one I'm sure they'll ask to repeat often.  I'm just glad that, for now, the best sleep over ever is at home with family.



My Sister Ate My Homework

Yes, as only our family can do we have topped the old adage of my dog ate my homework, and swapped it out for "my sister ate my project."

I don't always share these stories, well, because they happen daily, usually infuriate me and blogging just doesn't ever seem to make it to the top of the priority list.  However, this one made me laugh outloud and rendered me completely unable to discipline my child.  Those two things made it worth noting.

For those of you who know us well you know that we have children with personalities as different as night and day.  For those of you who are also parents, you know this means throwing out everything (well, almost everything) that worked for the first and bringing in a whole new world order with the second.  So, there we are...a new world order...learning to be 2 completely different moms...and trying to stay ahead of 2 very intelligent little people.  Today, I apparently was not so successful.

Before Collin left the house this morning for school he removed a pretty neat object from his bookbag.  It was a 3-D figure he had created with marshmallows and toothpicks.  He was excited showing it off and said he wanted to keep it.  He set it on the steps and we left to take him to school.
Upon our return Legare found the very interesting object and noted that it was made of marshmallows.  She politely asked if she could have one.  Obviously, I said, "No, that is Collin's school project and you may not eat it.  You need to put it back and leave it alone."
Fast forward about an hour or so...I was working on the computer and Legare was playing quietly in the playroom (yes, I realize that should have been my first warning).  She came walking into the dining room and announced, "I ate one of Collin's marshmallows.  That wasn't being a very nice girl."  I asked her to bring me the rest of his project and one by one she brought each EMPTY toothpick.  She hadn't eat ONE of Colllin's marshmallows, she had eaten them ALL.  When she brought me the last toothpick with the ziploc baggy, she told me, "I need to tell Collin sorry."
By this point I was rolling on the floor laughing.  That little girl knew EXACTLY what she was doing the whole time and then even had the nerve to let me know that it was wrong and she needed to apologize.  Good grief!!  If only I could imagine what will happen next.

Why I'm Leaving Facebook

Ok, so I'm not completely "logging off," but I am going to begin to treat Facebook like I do all other forms of media, being a little more careful and selective with my intake.

For years I have been very picky about the music I choose to listen to.  It started when I was in high school and had an hour drive to school each day.  I just hated listening to crass morning shows and obnoxious, loud, foul music.  It just didn't put me in a good mood.  I decided I only wanted to listen to things that were uplifting, and I've refined my definition of uplifting as I've gotten older.

After that I began to think the same way about much of my media intake.  I'll only watch so much news before I change the channel, there are only certain types of television shows I'll watch and if one of my regulars gets to be too much, I just don't watch that episode.  I'm selective with movies and even selective with reading, particularly online articles.  I NEVER read the comments after an article, bottom line, I've formed my opinion from reading and don't care to become angered as I read, what I find to be, the ridiculousness that people are willing to spew on public internet forums.

So, what does this have to do with Facebook?  I have realized in the past few days that, while Facebook is a great tool for me to keep up with friends who I otherwise may not stay as close to, it is also a great detriment.  Too often articles are posted, comments are made and statuses published that will have a negative impact on me.  Some anger, some hurt, some make me question decisions I make, some (whether true or not) I feel are targeting me and then I spend entirely too much time and energy analyzing it trying to decide how to respond.  I mean really, it's just ridiculous.  Yes, I understand I can unfriend people, block people, unfollow people, the bottom line is that I just don't want the site to be such a big part of my life.

I check facebook on my phone like I check the time on my watch.  It's craziness.  Why?  For what?  What on earth could be so interesting?  Why do I read those stupid articles that I know are only going to infuriate me?  Why do I read the comments that only make it worse?

I've given up Facebook the past 2 years for Lent, thinking it would somehow curb my usage.  It does, for 40 days and that's about it.  I need to unplug.  I need to stop caring how other people think children SHOULD be raised and focus on raising the two I have the way Robert and I think they should be raised, doing what is right for us and our family.  I need to stop caring what other people think about all things political, and remember WHO I am and allow that to define me and guide my opinions.  I need to stop thinking I "know" someone because we are Facebook friends.  I need to pick up the phone and have a conversation with them, or at the very least, send a personal email to touch base.

So, with that I'm guarding myself against Facebook like I have all other forms of media.  I'm even going to delete the app on my phone :)  It's time to UNPLUG a little!

Sunshine!

As I sit here, with more than plenty of housework to do, I realize just how long it's been since I've written a blog post.  It definitely is always on the bottom of the "to do" list inspite of the fact that there are always posts swirling wildly in my head; posts about my mom, my children, my thoughts on politics and theology, perspective on life, reflections on the holidays, Collin's 6 years with us, and other ramblings.  But for today, in an effort to get back at it, I am just going to talk about sunshine.

I love seasons.  I have always loved seasons.  Yet, I've learned something during my first winter in Maryland (Robert keeps reminding me that this is an unusual winter here and everywhere), I love MILD seasons.  I enjoy the change from winter to spring to summer to fall.  I embrace all that is to be enjoyed with each season, but I like winter temperatures that hit below freezing ONLY for a few days out of the ENTIRE season, not days on end for , what seems like, weeks on end.  I enjoy snow, for a day, maybe two.  I do not enjoy snow for days on end.  I've learned that there are two main reasons for this: 1 - when it is bitter cold, it's too cold to be outside...meaning too cold to so much as walk out of the house to the car, from the car to the store.  It's too cold to do anything.  2 - there is very little sunshine and I have historically greatly underestimated the power of sunshine.  There must really be something to that whole Vitamin D thing.  

So, when I woke up yesterday morning and saw the sun shining brightly, with not a single cloud to obstruct its rays all I could think of was soaking it in.  Inspite of the below freezing temperatures our family bundled up to soak up some rays.

It was cook out time at the park with Mr. John.  We grilled hotdogs.

Roasted marshmallows for s'mores.

Played some croquet (Collin came in second).

And enjoyed the playground.

It was freezing, literally, but we had a wonderful time being outside, in the sun, spending time with each other and a good friend (Elan we missed you).  It was just what we needed to be able to smile when we saw the snow on the ground this morning.

So, here's to sun (and all of the wonderful analogies you can make with this) and what promises to be a gorgeous spring here in Southern Maryland.

Ninja Mom

This is my new favorite term.  I first heard it in a blog I posted on facebook, so I can't take credit (http://themattwalshblog.com/2013/09/15/dear-parents-you-need-to-control-your-kids-sincerely-non-parents/).
Matt Walsh uses it to refer to a mom who, inspite of her toddler's complete meltdown in the middle of the grocery store, who, inspite of glaring eyes and disapproving comments from those around, who, inspite of her embarassment, chose to instruct and discipline her child when it would have been easiest to give in to the demands.  With that explanation I have to let you know that I have some friends who are ninja moms.  While I hope the following post does not embarass one of them, I feel like I should share.  She showed the rest of us a great example of the difficulty, self sacrifice and necessity of being a good parent.

I had some friends (and their children) over for a playdate.  It was, obviously, chaotic, but it was fun.  The children had a wonderful time playing together and the moms got some much needed adult conversation.  As is with most playdates there is no ending time because nap time will beckon for each child and her mom will take her home.  Sometimes this happens in a subtle whine and rubbing of the eyes, and sometimes it happens in a hysterical meltdown.  The latter was the case with my friend's 3 year old.
I'm uncertain how it started, what triggered her devastation, but when the floodgates opened there was no closing them, not even a little.  She was crying and screaming at the top of her lungs.  It was so loud my friend had her daughter sit outside until she could gather their things.  Even outside we (and the rest of the neighborhood) could hear her quite clearly.  My friend remained remarkably calm.  She gathered their things (and her other child), apologized (none needed in the present company), and calmly took her daughter's hand and insisted they were leaving because her behavior was unacceptable.
About 10 minutes later, there was a knock on my door, my friend and her daughter had returned.  While the child was still visibly upset she had calmed.  My friend asked everyone to please pay attention because her daughter had something to say.  At this point the little girl (with some coaxing) apologized to everyone for her behavior.  WOW!!  NINJA MOM!!  Not only did she remain calm through this whole process, but she put forth the effort, the inconvenient, slightly embarassing (again, no need in the present company) effort to not only calm her daughter and speak to her at home, but to teach her that apologizing is important and necessary.  She came back, with 2 children, to bring the lesson full circle, to drive home her point.  Even though every mom in the room could have, would have, excused the daughter from the apology, given her the "out" because she was tired, because she is 3, we all knew the importance of what was happening.  We all knew this was important.  So, we all paid attention, waited for the apology and then hugged my friend's daughter.  Instead of telling her "it's ok" we thanked her for her apology and told her we'd love to have a playdate with her again soon.  And we were telling the truth!
I have been thinking about this a few days now, wondering if I'd be able to stay that calm.  Wondering if I would put forth the extra effort to return.  Wondering if I could be a Ninja Mom.  Then, this morning I read an article about parents in a town whose children broke into a vacant home, threw a party during which the home was destroyed and are now angry with the homeowner, the victim, for trying to help the children instead of calling the police.  THAT is what happens when we refuse to be Ninja parents.  THAT is what happens when we are so busy being friends, or so busy trying to make sure our children never know the disappointment of a consequence.  THAT is what happens when we excuse every misbehavior starting at 18 months.  THAT is what happens when we refuse to be parents.  Then we wonder why our children are so out of control in their teen years.  As a parent you should NEVER be judged by what your children DO, but you should be by how you respond, and my friend did it right!!
I still won't say her name, but she knows who she is.  Way to go friend, I'm taking notes!

The Punctuation Mark

At my age I have watched the slow aging, and ultimate decline of a handful of people in my life.  People, who inspite of their present state, are forever trapped in my mind's eye as the young, capable, caregiving people they were when I was young.  This, I have learned, is the most difficult part of growing up.  Yes, there are more responsibilities, bills to pay, jobs to attend, worry beyond anything a child can imagine; but in the end the aging and illness of those who took care of us, the changing of roles, ultimately the death is so much more difficult to me than anything else.  The responsibilities we're prepared for, we know those are coming.  I'm not sure any of us realize the difficulty of watching those who raised us, those who loved us, those who took care of us, now needing the care.  It's such a painful turn sometimes.
Most recently I have watched this happen to my grandmother.  As I see this steel magnolia, always so stubborn, defiant and resilient in the face of trial, suffering and pain; a woman of faith that surpasses understanding; a woman of independence far ahead of her time; a woman of grace and class and modesty, in a nursing home with little ability to carry on a conversation, take care of herself or even enjoy her final years I am heartbroken. What I failed to appreciate about her as a child, I so respect and love about her as an adult. To watch a life full of exclamation points coming to an end with a mere period absolutely infuriates me.
How does this happen?  Why does this happen?  Why is it that we can spend a lifetime living, loving, enjoying, building, taking whatever comes our way and thriving inspite or because of it, yet, end life in the care of strangers with no modesty, no home and no ability to care for ourselves?  How do we spend a lifetime chasing the exclamation points to end with a simple period?  Where is the humanity in this?  More importantly, what is the lesson in this?  Is the lesson for the children or grandchildren?  Is it to live every moment because you never know how it's going to end?  Is the purpose to do everything we can to keep our own parents from such a fate?  Is it to remind us of the humanity of the elderly?  Is it to remind us that even though they are weakened, they are frail and seem ignorant, they were once the greatest generation, they were once the young people out to conquer the world.  They were once the caregivers, the parents, the intelligent, the fit and the strong.   And maybe, just maybe in their showing us grace and acceptance in aging and all that comes with it, they can end their lives as they lived them, full exclamation points.
For our steel magnolia...we will always and only remember the exclamation points.

 

The Perfect Day

We are some of the lucky few who get to experience fall and all it was meant to be.  The weather here is gorgeous right now.  The temperature is slowly dropping, the sun is warm and skies are clear.  The air is crisp and everyone leaves the windows open.  Saturday is football, but this year we get to watch Collin play as well.  He had his first game this past weekend.

He did really well, and was so excited to play.  He had been counting down to this all week.  Mouthguard in place, flags tied and he's ready to go.

What he doesn't understand is that if he plays for the Redskins, why is his game at a different time than the one on TV...yeah, we're working on that one.

Legare is not so impressed with Collin's performance, or that of the other players.

She found hopping, running and jumping on the sidewalk much more interesting.

Of course, after expending that kind of energy she had to have a snack (facing the opposite direction of the field).  Apparently if the Gamecocks aren't playing it's just not that cool.

Collin's team lost the game, but played well.  In the end, he had a great time and is practicing in the yard to be better next week.  As long as he's happy with himself we think he did well.

After the game it was off to the airport to meet Dusty.  Yes, Dusty, as in the star of the Disney movie planes.  

The amazing thing about living where we do and having a spouse/parent who works in the aviation industry is our access to some really cool stuff.  One of the guys who works at Test Pilot School owns a crop duster, just like Dusty.  Since the base movie theatre was showing Planes this past Saturday, Mr. Lowry allowed the children to come out and meet Dusty.

 




After a tour of the plane and watching some others take off, it was home for college football and a cook out with friends.  Inspite of a dirty kitchen, when all was said and done we had a wonderfully perfect day!

Quick Trip

We used to do a lot more of those than we seem to be able to do now, but we were able to break away for the weekend and get home to see Robert's parents.  The excuse was the annual start to dove season (which we missed because it fell on the Monday of the labor day weekend, so we were there this past weekend for the hunt).  I think the hunt may actually have been more like a picnic, but the guys had some much needed time together outside.  In the meantime chaos reigned inside, outside and all around.

We (Brian, Erika, Robert and myself) laugh often because for years Robert's parents were begging for grandchildren.  In less than 5 years they got 5.  While we love being together, it's always crazy with 5 children, 5 and under running around.

They do love each other so much and enjoy their time together.  Stella even planned a suprise party for Collin, just because.  She set up games, crafts and snacks for their party on the porch.  As the kiddos get older we encourage more and more time outside, keeps the house a little more calm and is GREAT for them.  There is plenty of space for them to run and play and enjoy the outdoors.

Nana even joins them most of the time.

Collin is always up for a game of croquet with whoever will play, or just by himself.

Then, of course, there was Carolina football!  

Inspite of our house full of gameday gear we couldn't push the Gamecocks to victory.  It was disappointing, but fun to watch the game with a house full of family.

Mr. Wicker loves the presence of his family at church, particularly when it's time for the children's sermon.  He even doesn't mind when Legare claps and yells, "yay!" as he finishes the prayer.

We had a wonderful lunch at the Belmont Inn in Abbeville.  The food was delicious, the children behaved and wonderfully and it was a beautiful place.

After lunch Legare enjoyed helping emerson learn to walk.

Nana had some time with her kiddos,

and there was even a game of hide n go seek.

 and some family pictures

It was definitely a quick trip, but it was a wonderful visit.

What I Want My Son to Know...

When Collin was born I was overwhelmed with a sense of responsibility; not just responsibility for his care, but responsibility for the man he would one day become.  I knew much of that would be taken care of by Robert, but I also knew, that as his mom, time with me would be important, and our relationship would be the foundation for any to come.  I knew I would have a much different perspective on raising a man than Robert, and that would make us a great team.  So, here is what I want my son to know...

- He is loved, treasured and wanted
- WHO he is, and WHOSE he is
- Gentleness, peacefulness and kindness are not unmanly, and are much needed in our society
- Reach for the stars in all that you do
- Your Dad and I are ALWAYS on your side, we are your biggest fans
- You can ALWAYS come home, no matter what
- There is a consequence, good or bad, for every decision, so each decision should be made wisely.
- There really is life after high school, as a matter of fact, I would argue life starts after high school.
- Remember to treat each girl you date like you want the guy who is dating your future wife to treat her
- Take a lesson of what NOT to do from our pop culture icons.
- Just because a girl makes herself available, fawns over you for attention and acts inappropirately doesn't mean you should take advantage of the situation.
- Girls are manipulative, WATCH OUT
- ALWAYS be a gentleman, chivalry is not dead
- Treat everyone you encounter with respect
- Expect others to treat you with respect, including women.  It is just as important for a woman to respect a man as it is for a man to respect a woman.
- DREAM, and dream BIG, Then go chase them, chase those dreams wherever they lead you, whether you catch them or not you'll be happy with where you land and have had one heck of a journey.
- You can do anything you set your mind to
- Be happy, but not at the expense of someone else
- Respect your elders, not just because they have earned it (which they have), but because there are elders you love, and you hope when people your age encounter your grandparents that they treat them respectfully.
- Be grateful, grateful for what you have you never have to look far to find someone who has it worse.  Be grateful for what others do for you it is out of love, respect, admiration for you that it is done.
- Live with dignity in the way you act, the way you dress, the way you speak.
- Stand up for yourself, you are worth it
- Stand up for others, they are worth it too
- Learn how to cook
- Learn how to do laundry
- Respect people in authority, this will serve you well in many arenas of life.  This is not to say you never question, but question with respect and continue to respect them even when you disagree.
- Travel, see the world, see the United States, learn about other cultures and people.
- Do not isolate yourself from people in need, YOU may be just who they need.
-Know God, Love God, follow his guidance and direction for your life and you'll never go wrong.

                                               

Our First Visitors

Just as we finished settling into our 2nd home in Maryland we had company.  It's always great for family to visit, but it's even more fun when we're showing them around a new place.  Robert's parents and grandmother came to visit for his birthday in July.  We had a wonderful time...

Touring DC...Collin and Nana were planning out our day,

 which included a stop for hot dogs outside of the museum.

 Then we were in.  Collin was fascinated by all of the rockets and planes.

 He enjoyed looking through the telescope and learning about the stars and planets.

After a tour of the solar system, and the history of aviation we headed across the mall to the Museum of Natural History.  

 Collin couldn't wait to see the dinosaurs.  The look on his face when he saw the skeletons was priceless.

 He thought they were HUGE, and quite impressive

 Legare really liked them too.

 Though she did not particularly care for the drive home.  So, Grandma Mary Lou held her hand and sang lullabies the entire way home.

Robert was able to give everyone a tour of his new office/school spaces.  This is really neat because there is so much history in that building.  So many of our country's greatest have been through this school, but what fascinates the children the most isn't the names on the wall or the collection of airplanes in the cases, but the airplane they can "ride" that's in the lunch room.

Another neat part of our tour of TPS were the items from the space program.  Robert's grandfather was the maintenance officer for the squadron that was responsible for picking up the Mercury capsules when they returned from space.  Robert's mom was able to show Collin the patches and plaques from when his great-grandfather worked with the Mercury program.

After all of this the fun wasn't over yet.  Robert and Collin made breakfast for everyone.

Then it was off to the pool so the kiddos could show off their new-found water prowess

Legare and Collin were able to end the week playing some board games with Grandma Mary Lou.  I think she loves to play as much as they do.

It's great time that they have together.

We had a wonderful visit and can't wait for a new round of adventures the next time they come to visit.