This is what Micah says to me the other day. Each day on on our way to school we stop at the exact same intersection. And every day there is a person standing there with a sign asking for help. The people change - but we consistently see the same 3-4 men. At least once a week Micah asks what we can give them as we sit waiting for the light to turn green. Usually I answer with, "well, we don't have anything to give them. We could bring a bar next time." But of course I always forget. I came to dread this intersection because I would usually be the first person in line at the stop light, sitting right next tothem the entire time. I would smile and give a little nod, but that was it.
Then on Facebook, I saw a post by someone who works with the homeless population about needing disposable hand warmers. And of course the next time I was in Costco I walked right by a display of hand warmers. After looking at them for a few minutes, trying to decide between hand or foot warmers, I threw one in the cart. Then I added a box of individually wrapped crackers. When I picked Micah up from school that day I told him I finally had something we could hand out.
The next day before getting into the car, I made sure to have a stack of hand warmers and crackers all ready to go. As we got to the usual intersection, my stomach was a little nervous, what if they didn't want the crackers? What if they were allergic to peanuts? I really hate this! But of course all of my worry was for naught, as no one was there. Seriously, this was the first time all year no one stood on the corner.
I dropped the boys off and went a different way to preschool because I knew of another popular spot for people needing food. I was so proud of myself for figuring this out, until I got to the intersection and realized I was on the wrong side of the street. Apart from rolling down my window, yelling at the man, and the stopping traffic so he could cross to me, I didn't see how I would get the crackers and hand warmers to him. So, I just drove on.
That afternoon Micah got into the car and yelled, "watch out for the poor". What? I asked him. "You know, the poor who stand on the corner, we need to give them our stuff". And of course we did not find any on the way home that day either.
Finally, several days after buying our supplies, and being on the look out for the poor, we finally stopped at a red light next to a man with a sign. I rolled down the window and handed him several packages of crackers and hand warmers.
With a smile, the man took what I offered and said, "thank you". The boys in the back were all yelling, hi!, as we pulled away (and ran over the curb in my haste to leave). I have to say that made my day. While I pull up and nervously avoid eye contact, or timidly hold out my meager crackers, my boys are joyfully greeting this man. Instead of embarrassment or nervousness, they are excited to be helping.
It is now their favorite thing to do in the car, to look for "the poor". And then to roll down our windows and hand out our offerings. We are truly blessed.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Girl Talk
Today in the car the boys and I somehow got on the topic of baby girl names. Specifically what their names would have been if they were a girl. One fun part of not knowing the gender is that we always had 2 names for each baby. For some reason, the girl name did not carry over to the next baby, but was always a new name.
I have a friend who I wish would have a girl just because I truly believe she has the perfect girl name. And it fits with the boy names she currently has. I am a bit obsessed actually, over the fact that I believe she should have another baby and it should be a girl. Hint-hint.
When reviewing the girl names for my boys, I had to stop and laugh.
Finn Carlson would have been Carolyn Mae. Not bad, except I am not sure if you say Caro-line or Caro-lynn. It would be bad to not be able to pronounce your own child's name.
Micah Allen would have been Mae Abigail. Interesting that his initials would have been the same. Abigail is still my least favorite girl name, but it was a compromise with Brandon. Also, the boys think it is hilarious Micah would have been Mae.
But truly it is Jack's name that makes me so glad he is a boy.
Jack Oscar would have been Allyn Isabetta. Allyn after my dad, and Isabetta because we found out we were pregnant in Italy. Yeah, I am so glad I have a Jack instead.
Obviously I was not meant to have girls. My name choices are a tad odd. Which is why I just stick to naming girl dogs. Elsie Henrietta Ice-cream Lonac, um, yeah.
I have a friend who I wish would have a girl just because I truly believe she has the perfect girl name. And it fits with the boy names she currently has. I am a bit obsessed actually, over the fact that I believe she should have another baby and it should be a girl. Hint-hint.
When reviewing the girl names for my boys, I had to stop and laugh.
Finn Carlson would have been Carolyn Mae. Not bad, except I am not sure if you say Caro-line or Caro-lynn. It would be bad to not be able to pronounce your own child's name.
Micah Allen would have been Mae Abigail. Interesting that his initials would have been the same. Abigail is still my least favorite girl name, but it was a compromise with Brandon. Also, the boys think it is hilarious Micah would have been Mae.
But truly it is Jack's name that makes me so glad he is a boy.
Jack Oscar would have been Allyn Isabetta. Allyn after my dad, and Isabetta because we found out we were pregnant in Italy. Yeah, I am so glad I have a Jack instead.
Obviously I was not meant to have girls. My name choices are a tad odd. Which is why I just stick to naming girl dogs. Elsie Henrietta Ice-cream Lonac, um, yeah.
Monday, December 3, 2012
My Monday
How Finn spent his Monday:
How I spent my Monday:
All in order to move my parents into their new Hobbit House.
How I spent my Monday:
All in order to move my parents into their new Hobbit House.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Hitting a Wall
You know that feeling when you have a massive To-Do list that seems to go for days, and when you finally get to your first day where you have nothing scheduled you just crash? That is me today. It seems since last Tuesday I have had an agenda for every day. Cleaning, prepping for Thanksgiving, hosting Thanksgiving, cleaning up post-thanksgiving mess, tree hunting, tree decorating, helping my mom pack, taking care of a so-so sick Jack, Bible study, zoo lights, Christmas craft night, etc...
Today I have things to do, don't get me wrong, but no place I have to be except picking up the kids after school. I am still working on putting away Christmas decorations, cleaning up a massive fort the boys built, and laundry - a mountain of laundry. But waking up today, knowing I didn't have to be anywhere or do anything, I crashed. My body literally said, you are done.
So, instead of rushing home, taking the dogs on a walk in the rain, folding clothes, cleaning, I am sitting at my favorite coffee shop, enjoying a latte and a crepe. The best part was it wasn't even my idea. Brandon suggested it, and then firmly reminded me as I was leaving, to take a break. Take some time to breathe. I am sure all the boys in my family will be grateful for a calmer, more relaxed mom/wife.
My To-Do list is still long, my house is still chaos, but I am taking a moment to myself.
Today I have things to do, don't get me wrong, but no place I have to be except picking up the kids after school. I am still working on putting away Christmas decorations, cleaning up a massive fort the boys built, and laundry - a mountain of laundry. But waking up today, knowing I didn't have to be anywhere or do anything, I crashed. My body literally said, you are done.
So, instead of rushing home, taking the dogs on a walk in the rain, folding clothes, cleaning, I am sitting at my favorite coffee shop, enjoying a latte and a crepe. The best part was it wasn't even my idea. Brandon suggested it, and then firmly reminded me as I was leaving, to take a break. Take some time to breathe. I am sure all the boys in my family will be grateful for a calmer, more relaxed mom/wife.
My To-Do list is still long, my house is still chaos, but I am taking a moment to myself.
Monday, November 19, 2012
One of Those Days
We had one of those days today. Where everything seems to be just a little bit harder, take a little bit longer, and in general not go the way it should. It of course started with Brandon and I waking up at 7:30. Yes, 7:30. This wouldn't be so stressful, except we leave at 7:45 to get to school on time. Things pretty much stayed at that same level of frantic energy all day.
But nothing prepared me for what waited for me at the end of the day. In the chaos of the morning, Micah showed us his hand. We had been watching a little bump on his hand for some time. We assumed that it was from a previous injury he had 3 years ago and that it was just flaring up. But today it officially looked infected. We knew we had to go the doctor.
After two failed trips to drop off our Operation Shoeboxes, a much longer then anticipated Ikea trip, and relentless rain, I showed up at the doctor's with Micah. He was not too keen on having a doctor look at his hand, and tried to convince me that it was doing better. I wasn't too worried. Again, I assumed, that the doctor would poke it with something sharp, a lot of puss would come out, and we would be good to go. Of course, I was wrong.
Turns out a piece of rock would not stay in the hand for three years only to suddenly push it's way out. And, that red mark encircling the bump, that's not good. But what to do? That was the question the doctor kept saying as she poked Micah's hand. Finally, she got a little piece up and realized what was inside his hand.
A piece of glass. How long had it been there, um, maybe 3 months. This of course began what will forever be known as the worst doctor's visit ever (although, I probably just jinxed myself). Three adults, including myself, had to hold Micah down. His screams could be heard through the entire office and caused another doctor to finally come in and ask if they could help. We tried numbing cream, but that only worked on the surface. Then the doctor said we would have to do a shot. At that point, Micah became unglued. I never knew how strong he was, and loud to be honest, until tonight. At one point he was shouting, "LET GO OF MY LEG, I'M SWEATING!!" and the doctor replied, "I think we are all sweating". Finally after nearly an hour the doctor pulled out this little (and yet large) pyramid shaped piece of glass. A cheer went up from all of us.
I looked and Micah and said, whatever you want to eat, you've got it. And of course Micah said, without taking a beat, "Blue C Sushi". And of course we went.
On the way there, Jack said, "if I ever have something cut out of my hand, I'm choosing Mexican." Good plan, because a margarita sounds pretty good right about now. Hopefully, we won't need to have anything cut out of anyone's hand for some time.
But nothing prepared me for what waited for me at the end of the day. In the chaos of the morning, Micah showed us his hand. We had been watching a little bump on his hand for some time. We assumed that it was from a previous injury he had 3 years ago and that it was just flaring up. But today it officially looked infected. We knew we had to go the doctor.
After two failed trips to drop off our Operation Shoeboxes, a much longer then anticipated Ikea trip, and relentless rain, I showed up at the doctor's with Micah. He was not too keen on having a doctor look at his hand, and tried to convince me that it was doing better. I wasn't too worried. Again, I assumed, that the doctor would poke it with something sharp, a lot of puss would come out, and we would be good to go. Of course, I was wrong.
Turns out a piece of rock would not stay in the hand for three years only to suddenly push it's way out. And, that red mark encircling the bump, that's not good. But what to do? That was the question the doctor kept saying as she poked Micah's hand. Finally, she got a little piece up and realized what was inside his hand.
A piece of glass. How long had it been there, um, maybe 3 months. This of course began what will forever be known as the worst doctor's visit ever (although, I probably just jinxed myself). Three adults, including myself, had to hold Micah down. His screams could be heard through the entire office and caused another doctor to finally come in and ask if they could help. We tried numbing cream, but that only worked on the surface. Then the doctor said we would have to do a shot. At that point, Micah became unglued. I never knew how strong he was, and loud to be honest, until tonight. At one point he was shouting, "LET GO OF MY LEG, I'M SWEATING!!" and the doctor replied, "I think we are all sweating". Finally after nearly an hour the doctor pulled out this little (and yet large) pyramid shaped piece of glass. A cheer went up from all of us.
I looked and Micah and said, whatever you want to eat, you've got it. And of course Micah said, without taking a beat, "Blue C Sushi". And of course we went.
On the way there, Jack said, "if I ever have something cut out of my hand, I'm choosing Mexican." Good plan, because a margarita sounds pretty good right about now. Hopefully, we won't need to have anything cut out of anyone's hand for some time.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
No Words
A friend recently emailed and said, "I haven't seen any new blog posts in a while, so you must be busy." Life is busy, I've decided it will always be busy, but that isn't the reason that this blog has been quiet. It's simple, I haven't had the words.
Last week a mom within my social circle experienced the thing we moms fear the most. Her seven year old son died. It was sudden, it was shocking, it was devastating. For many of you who read this blog, you also have been on this journey. Writing about the latest shenanigans of my boys' seemed wrong. My life continued on as normal, my friend's will never be the same.
This past weekend I had the honor to help serve this family. And in doing so, I also had the opportunity to listen to the mom share. I listened as she recounted the last days of her son's life. The last words he spoke. The moment she knew it would be a 'when' not an 'if' situation. How she was thankful for the week she had to prepare for saying good-bye to her son. I listened, nodded, and tried not to cry.
This weekend we will go and say a final good-bye to this little boy. My friend has said this is not a day for mourning, but a day to celebrate his life.
Until then, my stories will have to wait.
Last week a mom within my social circle experienced the thing we moms fear the most. Her seven year old son died. It was sudden, it was shocking, it was devastating. For many of you who read this blog, you also have been on this journey. Writing about the latest shenanigans of my boys' seemed wrong. My life continued on as normal, my friend's will never be the same.
This past weekend I had the honor to help serve this family. And in doing so, I also had the opportunity to listen to the mom share. I listened as she recounted the last days of her son's life. The last words he spoke. The moment she knew it would be a 'when' not an 'if' situation. How she was thankful for the week she had to prepare for saying good-bye to her son. I listened, nodded, and tried not to cry.
This weekend we will go and say a final good-bye to this little boy. My friend has said this is not a day for mourning, but a day to celebrate his life.
Until then, my stories will have to wait.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
The Year I Caved
Usually on Halloween I pull out my mad costume making skills and try to create whatever costume the boys want. To clarify, my sewing arsenal includes: a glue gun, one needle, white thread, and felt. I have a friend, and this won't surprise my small group, who believes I can sew. Really sew, as in, can make a quilt and possibly my own clothes. This is not true. I can barely hem a curtain using my sewing machine. But that is not the point.
My older sister has made reference to some slight competition between us. When I decided to do a daily blog post so did she - except she continued long past the 30 days. I wore a few skirts one summer, she decided to wear skirts daily - rain or shine! I had three kids - she has three dogs. So, when she made her kids costumes every single year, I decided I could too. She made Dorothy, a scorpion, Annie, Laura Ingalls Wilder, etc. I have made a bat, a parrot, a rat, a vampire, and batman. The only reason batman came to be was because my mom took over. My only contribution was hot gluing the batman logo onto a black t-shirt.
My favorite part of Halloween is hunting the thrift store for clothes that I can turn into costumes for the boys. But this year the costumes the boys wanted to be was a bit too much for my sad pitiful sewing skills. Jack and Micah were very clear that they wanted to be ninjas. Finn, well, he said he was going to be a Wampa Beast, complete with fur and claws. Taking a cue from my sister, I decided to just go ahead and buy the ninja costumes. The only year I remember her children wearing store bought costumes was when her daughter wanted to be a ninja. So, off to the thrift store I went. I know, I can't get away from thrift stores. I love them, and they do still have costumes - both new and used!
I found a ninja costume for Micah, a very tiny ninja costume for Finn, but nothing for Jack. Well, that is not true, I found one but he said it was too scratchy. And Finn, well, once he saw what his brothers were wearing, he was done with being a Wampa Beast. I was going to continue my search for Jack's costume when a friend asked if I wanted old costumes her boys were too big for. Free costumes? Of course!
Which is how I ended up with: A Tiny Ninja, A Black Ninja, and A Transformer.
I did cave and go buy Finn a costume that actually fit him. The 2T $.99 cent Ninja suit, was not going to cut it. This year will go down as the year my boys actually wore costumes that people knew what they were. No explaining at each door - I'm Linus or Earl from My Name is Earl, or A Pirate, but I'm not actually wearing any of my pirate gear.
This was the year I caved.
My older sister has made reference to some slight competition between us. When I decided to do a daily blog post so did she - except she continued long past the 30 days. I wore a few skirts one summer, she decided to wear skirts daily - rain or shine! I had three kids - she has three dogs. So, when she made her kids costumes every single year, I decided I could too. She made Dorothy, a scorpion, Annie, Laura Ingalls Wilder, etc. I have made a bat, a parrot, a rat, a vampire, and batman. The only reason batman came to be was because my mom took over. My only contribution was hot gluing the batman logo onto a black t-shirt.
My favorite part of Halloween is hunting the thrift store for clothes that I can turn into costumes for the boys. But this year the costumes the boys wanted to be was a bit too much for my sad pitiful sewing skills. Jack and Micah were very clear that they wanted to be ninjas. Finn, well, he said he was going to be a Wampa Beast, complete with fur and claws. Taking a cue from my sister, I decided to just go ahead and buy the ninja costumes. The only year I remember her children wearing store bought costumes was when her daughter wanted to be a ninja. So, off to the thrift store I went. I know, I can't get away from thrift stores. I love them, and they do still have costumes - both new and used!
I found a ninja costume for Micah, a very tiny ninja costume for Finn, but nothing for Jack. Well, that is not true, I found one but he said it was too scratchy. And Finn, well, once he saw what his brothers were wearing, he was done with being a Wampa Beast. I was going to continue my search for Jack's costume when a friend asked if I wanted old costumes her boys were too big for. Free costumes? Of course!
Which is how I ended up with: A Tiny Ninja, A Black Ninja, and A Transformer.
I did cave and go buy Finn a costume that actually fit him. The 2T $.99 cent Ninja suit, was not going to cut it. This year will go down as the year my boys actually wore costumes that people knew what they were. No explaining at each door - I'm Linus or Earl from My Name is Earl, or A Pirate, but I'm not actually wearing any of my pirate gear.
This was the year I caved.
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