Yes, not only is February the month of looooove, but it is also the month of my Hunka Hunka Burning Love’s birthday! Happy Birthday to Rickey, my sweet husband who is absolutely more than I could have ever hoped for in a best friend, husband and father.
We recently discovered Flying Wild Alaska on Netflix. Basically it is a reality show about his first flying job… just the names have been changed. We have watched it for a couple nights in a row now, with several episodes still calling our names. Rickey is (I was about to say “having a sleep over”) overnighting away from home tonight which is extremely rare for him in his current pilot job. So we won’t be watching FWA tonight. Anyway, the show brought back MULTIPLE memories of our time spent in the North when he was flying for Little Red Air Service. Seriously, the flight crew that spent the same three years up in Fort Vermilion would have at least two seasons of episodes simply from the stories I know about. And as all good pilot’s wives know, there are many stories that we are glad we still don’t know about.
Those were exhilarating years we spent up in the freezing tundra, but I must say that our last 16 years in the desert have been my favorite! We have traveled more, laughed more, forgiven more, cried more, spent more, prayed more and have definitely loved more in the last 16 years. Thanks, Rickey, for making my life so thrilling by living out the calling on your life to be a man of integrity and passion. I love you! XOXO
That was my fingers crossed, in case you were wondering about the X. You remember from The Price is Right…. at the end of every show when Bob looks into the camera and says….
Well, we took Bob’s advice… against Ringo’s wishes. There will be no baby wiener dogs sired from this house anymore. I made the appointment for a Saturday morning… when I was out of town. (See? I’m the nice mom AND the smart mom!) I left detailed instructions and came home to Mr. Weeney wearing the cone of shame. He was a little whiny, but not bad. Pain medicine in peanut butter was a slam dunk of a hit! Come to find out, he also had baby teeth that were four months late in falling out so those were pulled too. Rough day in doggy land. Both ends.
Ringo is very loving… but not so bright. Today was day #6 with the cone of shame and he is still running to the doggy door only to be stopped dead in his tracks by the cone that doesn’t fit through the door. And to make matters worse, yesterday was his first birthday. Nora asked if she could make him a puppy cake. So sweet, but no. She did pick out a chewy, noise-making stuffed raccoon for Ringo. But it terrified the dog! Made us all laugh. Our other dog, Trixie, loved the raccoon and claimed the birthday gift as her own.
(Side note: never in my first 35 years did I ever imagine that I would be a dog owner…. or blog the words “our OTHER dog”. Inconceivable!)
And so, Ringo continues to slam the backs of our legs for four more days of doggy cone duty. Never a dull moment in this house.
Sixteen years and two days ago, I went to the hospital to have a baby. But the baby, despite his gargantuan size, was feeling quite cozy and decided not to come out yet. So, with the IV still in my hand, I was sent home for a “good night’s sleep”…. whatever. I felt like I had swallowed a watermelon… I was measuring 43 cm across the giant mound. It was TIME! It was actually nine days PAST the due date, but my four children NEVER paid attention to due dates.
Ironically, it was the Canada Cup hockey game that night….. and it was playing on the TV in the hospital. And my husband was enthralled in watching the grown men on thin blades of steel, balancing on slippery ice, using weapons to hit a rubber puck at the net. Thankfully, my friend Barbie had come to visit me on the supposed night of my birthing… and gave me a ride home…. with the IV still in my hand…. for my “good night’s sleep.”
We went back to the hospital on September 13th, in hopes of delivering a child. We never found out the sex of our children until we could see proof with our own eyeballs. So, we were unaware that it was our first SON…. and unaware that he had the largest head ever to travel through a birthing canal. The memory still makes me wince and sit delicately on my chair. After much pushing and pulling and prodding and probing, Austin was born at the stroke of midnight. The doctor asked us if we wanted his birthday to be Friday the 13th, or Sept. 14th…. that is how I heard it anyway… and we chose the 14th. For 16 years, September 13th has held a special place in my heart as the day I almost had a son.
He looked like a hockey player who had recently lost a fight at the blue line, due to some of the prodding and probing… but we loved him anyway. Looking back, this was the first of four or five times the skin would be missing on his face. It should have been a red flag for me as his mother, but no.
Tomorrow Austin turns 16…. but it could have been today. Oh, the power in the hands of a mother on the birthing table.
Happy Birthday, son. You have shown yourself worthy of being a fighter to overcome insurmountable odds… from the very beginning. I’m so proud of the man you are becoming. My buttons are bursting, almost as badly as September 13th, sixteen years ago!
Our Colombiana princessa turned nine this week. Here she is with her new Mermaid beach towel.
Several weeks ago, Nora and I were eating lunch and I mentioned that she should make a list of ideas for birthday gifts that she may like to receive. At first she replied, “I can’t really think of anything,” but I got a pad of paper and a pen and sat ready to transcribe her hopes for her upcoming ninth birthday. I knew the family members would ask what she would like… and the kids always seem to come up with gift ideas that I never would dream of… so I sat…. ready. It seems with a bit of prodding and suggesting, she actually DID have some ideas that I found amusing and HIGHLY particular. Here is a short list from the long list:
Pink girl Lego’s
The DVD of Parent Trap
Dive sticks for the swimming pool FOR GIRLS
Purple piggy bank
Sleeping bag for a girl
Liquid paint: gold, light green, light pink, lavender, turquoise and black
Ruffly socks for her dolly
Turquoise church dress with sparkles that is tight on the top and goes big on the bottom, size 7
Mermaid beach towel
White high heels with 1 flower or 1 bow on each shoe, size 1
“N” necklace with blue sparkles
See?!? She knows what she likes! So cute! And my sister-in-law FOUND the exact dress that Nora explained from her visions of beautifulness!
A few jots and tittles that I have pondered lately are worthy of blog space here and now.
The term “Know-It-All” is a falsehood. If a Know-It-All truly knew it ALL then they would be aware of all that they do not know. They usually need to know social graces, How to Win Friends and Influence People, and the fine art of sitting at someone’s feet where learning is had…. but then they would have to admit that they don’t really know it all in the first place. See?
Women usually can’t have 99 babies. I was asked about this today by my 8-year-old, who is turning 9 tomorrow. I did some quick calculations of years of possible childbirth x multiple births = not usually more than 99 babies. But it could be possible. But not usually. 99 is a lot.
We are all shades of brown. It’s true. Shades are made by adding white or black to a color. You can pretty well mix any skin tone with brown and white or black. Except newborn babies… they are red (and sometimes look like monkeys…. like my little sister did.)
Skinny jeans almost always make you look skinny if you were skinny to start with. If you are not skinny to start with, skinny jeans do not make you appear skinny. That’s the gospel truth, right there.
No people were killed in the making of the movie Gladiator. Just wanted to throw that out there. I hope it’s true.
If you’re so smart, then why are you still _____________(late, fat, at that job, mean, getting angry, making excuses, etc.) Fill in the blank with whatever inadequacy you are facing in life. We can all learn in some area where improvements can be made. Find something about yourself to improve each day. Start with smiling more. Smiling is my favorite.
You WILL make time for what is most important to you in your life. Wow! Reality check time!
My birthday was shared with Jesus’ resurrection day this year. Awesome! Another year of my life has come to an end, but I certainly do feel wiser in the health department after my 45th year. I have figured out a few things (that’s the wiser part) that should contribute to living another 46 years (at least!) Hey, I obeyed my parents and the Bible promises a long life for obedience. :o) That’s what I keep telling my kids anyway! Six small meals a day really does keep the doctor away. I know I switched that up a bit from the original prose, but it works for me.
Allow me to share the joy in a photo essay…. then and now. This coming Sunday I will have been eating six small meals per day for A YEAR! A whole stinkin’ year! I can’t hardly believe it either! Here is my 45th birthday picture….. please refrain from snorting coffee through your nose when you behold my loveliness seventy-seven pounds ago. At least I was sporting a cool jacket and coordinating jewelry.
Here is this year’s birthday picture…. and “the difference?” you ask. I ate the cake last year… I didn’t this year. My mom made a darling peeps cake that was reported to be delicious. I didn’t feel deprived. It was a major victory in the weight-loss journey I’m traveling. Next year, I’ll taste the cake, but for right now I didn’t need to. My new mantra is “Everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial.” So true.
So as my next year begins, my plans include finishing writing a book of our adoption journey, getting into a regular fitness routine and daily praying diligently and intentionally for each of my children. Not that I haven’t prayed for them up until now, but I got the book The Power of a Praying Parent and realized that I needed to up the ante. Fighting in the heavenlies is where the action is. I’m all over it! Feel free to join me!
Remember back in April when I spent all my birthday money at Goodwill on 50% off day with visions of a shabby chic backyard? Well, it is slowly materializing! Finally! I found this top from a girl’s bedroom set… maybe from the bed or a desk hutch… and I could envision a garden shelf dealie to stack my pots and hang my tools.
Then I looked for MONTHS for a bottom piece to store my dirt and fertilizer and turtle kneeling pad. I think it was in August or September that I happened on this gem at Goodwill… on another 50% off day! Sweet mother of baby Jesus! It was perfect. The guy at the store told me that it came in from a monastery full of religious books all in Chinese. So half of the finished product was in the ministry. :o)
After much painting and sanding and hammering 1×4′s on the back so it doesn’t fall and kill a small child or dog… it is finished! My husband took one look at the finished product and asked, “So you had all that junk?” Nice, eh? Yes, I did… and one man’s junk is his wife’s treasure. I actually will use the junk, well, most of it. The ceramic butterfly in the center was handmade by my six-year-old self in Renton, Washington in a ceramics class at a neighbor’s house. The rest is truly junk. Not the butterfly.
We did have a near catastrophe whilst waiting for the 1×4′s to be nailed on the back. I had it set up in the middle of our back porch… clearly capable of falling and killing a small child or dog. The wind whipped up a gale to behold and knocked the top right off. It fell backwards, hit the NEW, glass patio table, got a big bash-in on the back piece and fell to the ground. Shoot. I put the big tin plate on the top shelf in front of the bash-in evidence. All is well now. Why would anyone need this in their yard, you ask? Because now my gardening gloves won’t get chewed and buried by the dogs. That’s really what this was all about…. me having to repeatedly replace my flimsy gardening gloves from the dollar store. See, all is well now. (I have since planted those violas in those six pots in the little green stand on the right. They are darling.)
Today, my baby boy turned 13, and despite all the warnings…. I wasn’t quite ready. He’s my baby boy for goodness sake. He is our only child, out of four, who was born in the USA. (We have two Canadians and one Colombian.) I felt the need to display the American flag picture for all to see. He was so darling…. and the sole child with an American photo shoot.
We also tried to take a NICE family photo during his birthday party… but I guess I didn’t stress the word NICE loudly enough. Believe it or not, THIS is the best one we got…… (sigh)
Yes, the birthday boy has his eyes crossed. Typical. Why am I surprised??? I don’t know. He does bring lots of laughter and joy to our home, for which I’m thankful. Keeve was our easy child. From birth, every time anyone looked at him he couldn’t help but smile. See? Darling.
I tried to liven up the party and did a little jig for Keeve…. he picked up one of the birthday cards he had just opened and held it up to me. It said, “WOW!”… then he turned it over so it said, “MOM” Hahahahaha. Then I stopped dancing. If every kid was as mild-mannered and sweet as Keeve, this world would be a better place… albeit moving at a MUCH slower pace.
Happy Birthday, to my little sunshine huggy buns. (Oops, did I type that out loud?)
Two days ago my first born son turned 15-years-old. He is taller than me. I’m not sure if I could take him anymore. He has more muscles than Jack LaLanne. ……..Ok, no he doesn’t. I just looked up Jack on google. But my son has the potential of turning into the juicing giant. Wasn’t it just a few months ago when my chubby, blonde little boy was yelling every word and stuttering because he was so excited about life??? Wasn’t he telling me, just weeks ago, that “Daddy take good care for you, Mom.” Where have the years gone?
Sadly, said son’s birthday happened to be on the busiest day of our week…. really, the ONLY day we all leave the house together. I did make cupcakes and take them to co-op… like all good homeschooling moms. He asked for vanilla cupcakes with vanilla icing. WOW! Go crazy! I called him from Walmart to make sure I got the right kind. Then I asked what kind of cupcake papers he wanted…. Dora… Mickey Mouse… Cars… Cinderella. He said he didn’t care as long as the cake and icing were vanilla. I bought purple.
And what gift did my 15-year-old ask for on his birthday? Money to go on a missions trip to build houses in Mexico in October. What kind of kid asks for missions trip money for his birthday? Maybe the kind of kid who asks every Friday night if he can go downtown and feed homeless people. Or the kind of kid who spent his summer vacation feeding men on skid row in Los Angeles. He recently told his Dad that he didn’t think he was doing enough for others. To which my wise husband replied, “You are doing WAY more than the average kid your age.” My brilliant son retorted, “I’m not an average kid.” SO TRUE! I couldn’t be more proud of my 15-year-old son.
However, (that always means the next words are important and contradictory in nature) this is my one in four children whom I have probably mentioned in more prayers than all the others. Okay, that’s not true because my 17-year-old daughter went to Africa for three weeks this summer…. they might be tied. His leadership ability has been obvious to me for many years…. I hoped and prayed it wouldn’t be for the dark side. And his drive is unbelievable. Even when he was nine, he would get up early and do all his chores and as much school work as he could…. before I stumbled out of my room to whip us some breakfast. (For those who know me well, they are thinking “That’s nothing… she sleeps in.” It’s true. But still!)
We had a family gift opening for Aus… with little girls invited. :o) But he simply wanted $$ for missions, so no grand party was had. Weird, I know.
It was another round of firsts for our little Colombian princess… first birthday party… first birthday cake… first birthday gifts… first birthday decorations… ALL for her! It was surprising to me that her birth was not celebrated in the foster home because Colombians celebrate EVERYTHING! She said they did sing Happy Birthday, but that was it… for everyone in the house. Strange.
Nora has been counting down the days to her 8th birthday for over a month… without understanding the numbers above 14.. well, at least not in English. She did have an idea of what to expect because we’ve celebrated six big events since she’s been home, but none of them were for kids. I wonder if she thought we only had parties for ages 16 and up?? When I questioned her for birthday requests, her only one was, “Can I have a cake with my name on it?” SURE YOU CAN! We went right down to the local bakery and ordered a Tinkerbell cake with N O R A written across the top! The last time any of my kids got a store-bought cake with their name on it was when they turned one and we got free first birthday cakes from Safeway!
We had a family party on her actual birthday with cupcakes. She was darling. She smiled so big, I thought she might pop as we sang happy birthday! Of course we make it really exciting by yelling WOOOO in between each line. This coming Sunday is her party (with her cake that says NORA) for her friends… we’ve been waiting for some of them to get back from vacation. I’ll post more pictures then.
We are so blessed to have Nora in our family! So blessed to share God’s love with her! So blessed to have her lighting up our home and lives!
Welcome to My Sister's Jar. The story behind the blog lies in the original post on Feb. 2, 2008. Type "giddy moments" into the search box to find it.
I'm a homeschool mom who loves to speak and write, encouraging moms to press-on in motherhood. Two of my books are available NOW! Laughing in the Midst of Mothering and Laughing in the Midst of Marriage. See them at www.LindaCrosby.com or www.cbd.com.
I have four children, one of whom is adopted from Colombia, so there are LOTS of adoption tidbits here.
~~~~~~ Linda Ann Crosby
