A Day to Remember

This post deserves a picture. When I tried to take one the batteries had been removed from the camera and we were already running late. This was our first
"real" day in our new lives here in New Mexico. The move went smoothly and was a lot of really hard work. Last week was spent unpacking and getting settled. Today was my husband's first day at his new assignment and Peanut's first day of pre-school. Big day.

Let me back up. When we visited here in November a good friend of mine told me about a newly opened Catholic school that has a pre-K class for three year olds. I had been wanting to put Peanut in a mother's day out program in Oklahoma but was refused because he is not fully vaccinated. Surely the Catholics would understand me not using vaccines with aborted fetal cell tissue. So we looked into it, visited the classroom and fell in love with it all. Our intention is still to home school when our children get older, but this seemed like a good way for Peanut to socialize and learn how to behave in a structured environment. A bonus is that we love his teacher.

So anyways, today was his first day. He was so cute with his little backpack all ready to go. The only problem was Miss Belle thought she was going with him. This entire week, every time the word "school" is mentioned she yells, "ME!!!!" and points to her chest. This morning she got her back pack all ready, because anything Peanut does, she follows. When we dropped him off at school he exclaimed, "I want to stay here at school!" so Miss Belle and I said our goodbyes and ventured back to the car. She was not happy at all. She must have really thought all the "ME!!!"s were going to land her a place in pre-school next to her brother. She cried the whole way home. It was really the first time my children have done something apart from each other that I can remember.

I haven't heard an update on my how my husband's first day is going, but I assume it's going well. Life is starting to feel "normal" here as we settle into a routine. Thank you to everyone who prayed for a safe move and smooth transition.

Oklahoma: The Things I Don't Want to Forget

I will admit first hand that for many of you this post will be boring and possibly not worth reading. It is mostly for myself as I come closer and closer to leaving this place I call home.


The Bad:

Lawn Mowing Mondays: Pretty self explanatory. While it's great that other people mow our front lawn for us every week, it ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS happens right at nap time. Change naps time you say? Tried that. It doesn't matter when I put them down for naps. Whether it's twelve or two, the mow men come to our yard at that time. And in case you don't know, for a three year old boy, riding lawn mowers are about the most exciting thing ever. Riding lawn mowers can also make the worst come out of mommy when they come at nap time. I would be embarrassed to tell you the many horrid things I have thought of doing to those mowers when they wake my sleeping children...

The Obesity: This is good and bad. Never in my life have I seen so many obese people as I have in Oklahoma. About a year after living here I figured out why there seems to be an obesity epidemic here...it's because they have awesome fried chicken and the weather always sucks so bad you can't go outside to exercise. The upside is, I'm ten pounds overweight and I look like an anorexic compared to most around here.

The Weather: Sometimes exciting, but mostly sucky. Nothing like locking yourself in a closet while tornado sirens sound and the creepy computer weather voice keeps telling you to take shelter. By the way, a closet does not make you feel safe in the midst of a tornado. It's ridiculously hot and humid in the summer (and I'm from the desert, so I know hot) and the winter is filled with a strong wind so cold it literally takes your breath away. Ice storms knock out power for days, and as mentioned before, the spring brings tornadoes. When speaking of the weather in Oklahoma, my husband always says, "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes and it will change".

The Good:

The Drive to The Farm: About once every two weeks the kids and I take a drive out to a local farm and buy fresh milk straight from the cow. No pasteurization or homogenization, just real whole milk. This milk was my life saver about a year ago, when Peanut was still showing signs of a dairy intolerance and wasn't gaining weight. After almost two years of worrying about his size and calorie intake, this farm came into our lives and relieved so much stress. It's a drive I always look forward to, knowing that I am going to get my children real, healthy and nutritious food from people who work very hard at what they do. A bonus blessing is that the drive itself is beautiful. Tree lined country paved roads all the way, with friendly people who always wave. It's the kind of lifestyle you see in movies but didn't think existed anymore; it does in Oklahoma. This is probably the number one thing I will miss about Oklahoma (besides the people).

The Grounding Tree: There is tree in my backyard, just beyond the fence. It is large and gorgeous and changes with the seasons. When looking out my dining room window, my eyes are automatically drawn to this tree. I can't tell you exactly why, but no matter how bad of a day I am having, looking at this tree always makes it better. It grounds me in a way. I guess in some way it reminds me that life is a long process and it takes many hard years to grow such beautiful branches with fruitful leaves. The flowers are fleeting and die with a simple freeze, but this tree always stands firm.

Living on an Air Force base: As much as I hated the idea almost four years ago, I have come to absolutely love the security and fellowship that comes with living on a military base.

The 5 O'Clock National Anthem: Not many people know this, but every day and 5pm on every military base across the U.S., the National Anthem is played. For the few minutes it is playing, life stops on base. Runners stop running, kids stop playing at the park and cars stop at green lights. Military men and women stand at an attentive salutes and civilians are found with their hands patriotically placed on their hearts. The sight can still bring tears to my eyes. It's a sight that reminds you that maybe their is hope for this country, and maybe there are people out their who love the land of the free and the home of the brave.

The General Conservative Mindset: Never in my life have I seen so many pro-life generally conservative bumper stickers as in Oklahoma. In New Mexico your car is sure to get egged once or twice if you place a conservative bumper sticker on your car. It is so refreshing to see people united in keeping America from becoming socialist and knowing that these people genuinely love this nation. Plus, it keeps mommies road rage waaaay down when I don't have to get angry about a ridiculous Obama "change" bumper sticker in front of me. Oklahoma may seriously be "the reddest state on the map" as they claim.

When we first learned we were moving to Oklahoma neither of us were thrilled. It was not on our "wish list". But, through the months and years we have come to love this place and will genuinely miss it when we leave. I'm sure there is much more I will miss but there is packing to do and no more time to write.

Stopping to Smell The Flowers

I had to go to Wal-Mart tonight. I hate Wal-Mart. So does my husband. One of the many reasons I love him. Five minutes in that store can leave me exhausted and over-stimulated. But I must admit, they often have things I can't find anywhere else which is why I "had" to go this evening.

Peanut loves Wal-Mart. Maybe it's the insane amount of stuff there is to look at, or the 10 percent chance that he will come out with a balloon, but every time we pass one, he asks to go in. I knew today would be no different. As we pulled up, he begged to run in with me and I easily obliged. It's rare I get to take him somewhere alone, even if it's for a five minute walk in a store. So we walked, hand in hand towards that entrance to American consumerism at it's finest.

As I hurriedly walked around, knowing exactly what I needed and grabbing it as fast as I could, we made a pit stop to the party isle to prove to Peanut that, yes, they really were out of Spider-Man balloons. We had one more stop to the cleaning isle then we were out. After grabbing my bottle of bleach and nearly jogging to the checkout I noticed that Peanut wasn't right by my side. As I glanced back to find him, I didn't see him right away. Then I heard his tiny voice, "Mmmmm! Dese mell weally good!" (these smell really good).

There he was in the midst of the chaos that is Wal-Mart. In the midst of food and toys and balloons and everything eye appealing, he stopped to smell the flowers. My first reaction was to grab his little arm, and tell him we needed to hurry (why? I don't know). But as I pulled myself back for a second I thought, "how neat is that?". Out of all the stuff there was in that store, he found God's creation and stopped to appreciate it. To look and smell and feel the flowers. How often do we do that? When do we lose our child sight?

We stood there for a minute smelling the flowers together. "Mommy, I want to buy these flowers for you", he said. Knowing full well that he had no money in his piggy bank and that I would actually be buying flowers for myself, I eagerly agreed, "Yes! I would love if you bought me flowers, son".

We walked hand in hand out of that chaotic store with a special moment to share and a half dozen red roses to smell and admire for days to come. And I walked out the door knowing that God was teaching me to stop and smell the flowers even in the midst of chaos.

The Things They Say (6)

Me: Please stop flipping the light on and off.
Peanut: Why Mommy?
Me: Because it hurts and bugs my eyes
Peanut: Oh...A bug flies in your eye and hurts it mommy?

It's funny how literally kids take things. :)

Peanut was laying in bed drinking his cup of milk before nap time when he matter of factly told me:
"Mommy, I can't drink too much milk or I will puke"
Me: "Do you not want your milk then?"
Peanut: "NO, NO! The point is, mommy, I can't have too much."

Neither my husband nor I know where he learned the phrase "the point is", but apparently one of us says it.

Peanut came up to me this morning with diaper rash cream covering his entire face. When I asked him why he did that he responded, "Mommy, I needed it so I could look so so handsome!"

A Forgotten Mother

I am a cradle Catholic. Throughout the years, I have had many people ask questions about my faith, often times accusing me of believing something that I really do not. I have been forced by this questioning to find theological reasoning behind what the Church teaches, to wrestle with different viewpoints and to finally come to know that the faith I was raised in is truly my own. Throughout the years, the most common accusation I hear is, "Catholic's worship Mary", or something right along those lines. Now, there are many many theologins out there to argue the Catholic case for Mary, but I am not hear to do that today.

Today, I am here as a mother, just like she was. Today I am here wondering why so many protestants have forgotten how special a calling it must have been to be the mother of Jesus; the mother of God. So often I have asked protestants, "what if, at the annunciation, Mary said no?" to which they generally respond that God would have chosen someone else to be the mother of Christ. This logic, to me, speaks of a selfish God who merely uses the body of a woman to bring forth His divine plan. Not of a loving God who chose Mary specifically before all time to be HIS mother (imagine, creating your own mother...I bet she would be pretty perfect, huh?). God didn't just go around saying, eny meenyminey mo, ok she'll do. He created Mary for the specific purpose of being Christ mother. Just like He created you and I for a specific vocation. And just like Mary, we can say no to Christ. He gives us that free will. And if we do say no, he can't just give our vocation to someone else, because it is ours. The whole world's salvation waited on the "yes" of Mary that day. 

And still, if the protestants believe what I have said above, they seem to think that Christ was done with Mary the day He was born. That her job was finished in Bethlehem. But any mother knows this is surely not the case. Have we forgotten that Jesus spent 30 years in her home before beginning his ministry? Mary didn't just birth Jesus, feed him some food to grow and then send him on his way. She mothered him. She watched him smile for the first time, fed him milk from her breast, and held his tiny fingers as he learned to walk. She picked him up when he fell, kissed his owies and taught him how to hold his hands when he prayed to his Father. She nurtured him, cuddled him and kept him warm on cold winter nights.

All of these things seem like small, normal things all of us mothers do, and they are. But we must remember that Jesus wasn't just any child. He was the son of God. Mary taught and nurtured the Son of God! Tell me that isn't incredible! She felt the greatest love for her child than any woman has ever felt or will ever feel. And 33 years after his birth she walked behind Him to Calvary and stood silently as they crucified her child she kissed on the forehead all those nights.

We may not agree that Mary was sinless or that Jesus was her only son, but surely with a little reflection on her life and the 30 years Jesus spent in the home of the holy family, we can agree that she is a very very special mother and a woman deserving our honor.

"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaide. For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed; for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name." Luke 1:46-49 (emphasis mine)

The House That Became a Home

It's getting closer. Four weeks until my family ventures on to our next Air Force assignment. Two months ago I was anxiously excited to move and have a bigger house (we are living in 1150 sq. ft now with no garage). Now that I am actually starting to pack our things and clean things out, I am more nostalgic than anything. I'm sad to be leaving such great friends, sad to be leaving our first home and sad to be leaving this house that I complain so much about. And while I have complained about being cramped, the smallness of this house has taught me what we can live without and forced me to stay somewhat organized. I will always be thankful for that.

I always forget I don't like change. I'm that girl who sees the giant roller coaster and says, "Yeah let's ride!" and then when I get to the top say, "What was I thinking?!?!" Of course I get on, because who wants to walk all the way back down, but until the last big drop off is finished, I'm questioning why I ever got on.

As stated, our house is small. And old. Very old. There is a sixty year old layer of filth covering it that no amount of elbow grease can scrub clean. In the winter, the windows feel like they are open when they are surely closed. Our furniture doesn't go against the wall because the house is settling so bad that the wall is slanted in. There are huge cracks in the walls and in the living room you can actually see the roof starting to sink in. It's never where I pictured myself living, but over the years, this house has become our home. As much as I have complained about it's problems, it has done so much good for us.

This house is where we learned to be our own family. Where we argued and laughed our way through the first years of marriage. It's where I brought both my little children home for the first time and it's the only home they have known in their short little lives. It's where I cried from being home sick and rejoiced in the fact that we were our own. It's where my children took their first steps, where they learned to be siblings and where they said "mama" for the first time. It's where, on countless nights, my husband and I woke up to sick children and had to laugh at each other or else we would cry. It's where I learned to be a wife and a mother. It has kept us warm in the winter, cool in the summer and the merciless weather of Oklahoma off of our heads. It has been a good home.

This is one of the harder things about being in the military. Making new homes only to leave them a few years later. Always having the thought in the back of your mind that "this is not permanent". That you will have to repaint those walls and take down those pictures in a few short years. Never getting too attached to one place because you know you have to leave. And while I believe that a home can be made anywhere, there is something about the house that makes the home.  And the house is always changing. I guess this is also one of the arts of being a military wife; learning to create a new home in new places over and over again for many many years. Making your children feel that, although they aren't walking in the same door, they are coming home. They are coming home because that's where their family lives.

Four weeks and all boxes will be packed. Four weeks and we will say goodbye to the only home this family has known. Four weeks until we begin this new chapter in our lives.

What Really Bugs Me

In general, I'm a pretty laid back person, but like anybody, I have certain things that really bug me. One of these annoyances seems to be happening quite often to me and it's driving me nuts. It happens when I take my kids out grocery shopping or to Target and someone (who I know or don't know) starts chatting with me. The scenario goes something like this:

Person X: "Hey! I haven't seen you in forever! How are you?"
Me: "Really great! Just busy trying to get shopping done with the kids. You?"

At this point I expect a "Yeah we are great too, see you later" response, but that's not always what happens. Sometimes what happens is Person X decides to tell me their whole life story for the past ten years which involves two divorces, a pet dying and an unexpected pregnancy. Whenever this happens, Person X seems to be COMPLETELY oblivious to my children, who are in fact, sick of waiting in a basket while mommy talks and going crazy. It's as if they think I don't have children with me and I can just talk all day. It happens with strangers and acquaintances alike.

After about three minutes of chit-chat my kids are in full blown impatient mode, or worse yet, self entertainment mode. Miss Belle is usually trying to actually join the conversation and Peanut is usually trying to push Miss Belle out of the cart in some way. All the while, I am not able to really listen to what the person is saying but am instead thinking, "Can you hear them? They are yelling and poking me. My son just fed my daughter a cockroach off the floor. My daughter just did that flip thing she does to get from one part of the cart to the other. She almost cracked her head open. Do you not see this? How is this conversation enjoyable to you?"

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy friendly conversation and my kids are actually pretty well behaved in stores (as long as they are not left in one place for too long), but trying to have a drawn out adult conversations for an extended period of time in the grocery store just isn't going to happen at this point.