Last night in the dark of the master bedroom way past midnight I apologized to my sweet husband for not doing anything for his 49th birthday. The special day when he entered our world is Feb. 3rd, but he was in Kansas City learning how to use the new glass cockpit on the King Air 250. Flight training trumps birthdays, obviously. And truthfully, I don’t think I could have come up with something to beat his enjoyment level of time in the flight simulator.
The nice people at Flight Safety realized it was Rick’s birthday when they copied his passport for identification. They gave him a Flight Safety polo shirt, a mug and a basket of goodies! See? He wasn’t entirely forgotten. Sheesh.
We couldn’t celebrate early because I was visiting my sister for 13 days, then Rick and I saw each other for two hours before he left for five days in KC. I have no excuse that I can remember for when he got home, but I know we were really busy. REALLY busy.
As our son, Austin, knows from experience, if you travel and are gone on your birthday it is forgotten. Period. He did ask me two months later if I would buy him a new Bible for his two-months-ago special day. I did. I’m the nice mom, remember?
After my apology, Rick replied, “Don’t worry about it, Honey. It’s okay.” My response surprised him as I said, “Okay. Thank you. … … … Don’t EVER forget my birthday!”
We shared a belly laugh and he summarized the comments, “And THAT is the difference between us!”
Frontier Airlines was having a screaming deal on plane tickets from Phoenix to San Francisco as 2015 approached. A friend of mine alerted me to the $20.15 tickets and I immediately checked the dates they were available. Then I checked the Edmonton Oilers schedule and the stars aligned for my die-hard-Oiler-fan husband. The cheap ticket and the Oilers playing the Sharks in San Jose all landed the day before his 48th birthday! (Yes, the return ticket was a bit more, but STILL!)
Rick was swimming in a sea of turquoise in the Shark tank for sure! But, seeing it was Rickey’s birthday and he flew in to watch his team, the Oilers pulled out a win in a shootout…. just for Rick. It was picture perfect. (In case you are not familiar with the Edmonton Oilers, they are a come back team. Rick has told me this for years. We are still waiting for them to come back. How many first round draft picks will they get before they come back? We don’t know. Jesus may come back first.)
Lasagna and black forest cake were awaiting Rick’s return on his actual birthday. He told me this was the best birthday gift I have ever given him……. (to send him away from me for his birthday)…. hmmmmm. I think there is oil in his blood.
Yesterday we celebrated with much color and fanfare our Colombian princess’ third birthday with her forever family. Hard to believe she has been here 2 1/2 years already! It seems like last month we were enjoying the sights and sounds of her homeland and loving every minute of it!
Nora’s list this year was L O N G, as usual. But there were several items on there that gave me pause… like Healeys (those tennis shoes with wheels in the heels). They don’t even make those anymore. She’s so yesterday. She also told me that she wanted vases to paint like her big sister Larisa. I couldn’t figure out what vases Larisa had painted, but oh well. Later she saw a picture that Larisa had painted on a canvas and exclaimed, “See, mom. There is a vase that she painted.” The painting was of a girl…. no vase. I finally figured out she meant canvas.
Nora hears of activities that her friends do and then she wants to do them too. Currently she wants to play soccer, do dive, gymnastics, swimming lessons, dance and basketball. Our family “rule” is one activity per kid. She is in the throws of piano lessons, which I wouldn’t say she loves. She is learning how to play, albeit slowly. But all Crosbys take lessons for at least two years. I read somewhere that it helps with language development…. and if there’s one thing she needs is language development. All that to say, there was an auction supporting youth in arts and lo and behold, there was a basket with a beach towel, swim goggles, a kick board and swimming lessons. And we won! So our little fish will finally learn some strokes with names. She can swim quite well, but it’s all survival swimming and doggie paddling.
The other tidbit that made my heart glad was when she was naming the girls she wanted to come to her party. There were 21 on the list! She has 21 friends! That is HUGE! Thank God her birthday is in the summer and 16 of them couldn’t come. :o) For a social little butterfly like herself, friends are not only a gift from God, but a godsend for mamas like me who have little social butterflies! What a blessing!
Happy 10th birthday to our little latina beauty! What a gift from God she is to our family!
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.)
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
My Sister's Jar 