Mother's Day...A Rerun

Happy Mother's Day!

It is here once again.  This holiday stirs up so many emotions in me, and I decided that I wanted to go back and read the post I wrote last year.  I really put my heart on paper (or a screen, I guess) then and I wanted to experience it again as I think, celebrate, and pray this year.

Then it occurred to me that maybe my readers would like to experience it again too.  Or maybe experience it for the first time if you're new.  

So, without further delay, a Mother's Day rerun post from 2011...  

 (originally posted May 8, 2011)
To my beautiful children, Bella Kathryn and Hayes Ryan,

It's Mother's Day, and I am sure you (with Daddy's help) have something planned for me. I wanted to take time to write you a letter.  This letter is going to have a couple of lists (love them) and it's going to start with a strange one.  Keep reading until the end.  Obey your mother.

Being a mom changes your life.  A lot.  That leads to list one:

Things I don't have since I have children:
- a clean car
- a clean kitchen floor (Which isn't really fair to blame on you.  It's white tile and it's impossible.)
- a fishing boat (That one's for your dad.)
- the ability to stay out late and sleep late the next morning
- a toy free living room
- peaceful time to shower without someone coming in to talk to me or play in the toilet (Ahem...Hayes)
-rockin' abs

But oh, my babies, you have brought me so many other things.  Some of them things I didn't even know I was missing.

Things I have since I have children:
- more patience
- the ability to multitask at an Olympic level
- the knowledge that you can trade in the toy at Chick-fil-a for ice cream.  Score.
- a pantry door that is covered in artwork
- the excuse to go shopping for clothes every season because you've outgrown the ones from last year
- a reason to use my camera everyday
- the opportunity to look at the world in a different way, as you ask questions and discover things for the first time
- a moment daily, where you rest your head on my shoulder, and I am so happy I forget to breathe
- a paper that says "Mama" taped to my mirror, because it's the first time you ever wrote my name and I want to look at it every day for the rest of my life
- a better understanding of who God, my Father, is and how much he loves me
- a scar, that I love, because it reminds me of where you both used to be

You see, the two of you have brought so much into my life.  Most of all, you have brought me joy, a heart that is overflowing with love.  I have tears in my eyes as I type this because I can't find words that are good enough to explain how much I love you.

When I rock you late at night, I look at the cross that says, "For this child I have prayed."  You both have them in your rooms.  It's a reminder for me.  It's a reminder for you.  You were prayed for.  You were so very wanted.  And God answered my prayer.

I am so very grateful.

"Worthy are you, O God, to receive honor and glory, for you created all things." Revelation 4:11

"The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy." Psalm 126:3

Love,
Mommy

And I cannot close this post on Mother's Day, without one more letter...


Dear beautiful woman who is longing to be a mother,

You are not forgotten.

There was a time, just a few years ago, when I could not write the letter above.  I had been trying, and failing, for two years to have a baby.  I was in pain.
 
I had a doctor, fantastic as he was (and still is), who couldn't give me answers.  Pregnant women followed me around Wal-Mart.  I cringed when I had to listen to other women complain about their pregnancies.  I was the girl at the baby shower with nothing to talk about. 

And I hated Mother's Day.  It was a celebration of everything I was not.

I would avoid church on that day, because bursting into tears when they ask all of the mothers to stand isn't really a socially acceptable response.  

I remember.  You are not forgotten.

If you are waiting to be a mother, I am thinking of you and praying for you.

And you should know that I will still cry in church today.  For me.  For you.  For a God who can do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.

Love,
Shene'

And...I'm Back!

So, I haven’t blogged in awhile.

This lack of blogging started to keep me from blogging.  I don’t know if that makes sense.  I’ll explain.  I started to feel bad that it had been so long.  I didn’t know how to start up again.  Do I mention it?  Do I make an excuse?  Is my public (all three of you) expecting something great?  Since I didn’t know what to do, I just didn’t blog.  Then that made it all worse.  It’s a vicious cycle at its finest. 

I have no good reason.  I just got busy, then lazy, and then felt that I was in this weird place as explained above. 

I also sometimes feel that I have to write something phenomenal.  Something that will change the world…or at least make people laugh and/or cry.  

This post is not that.  I thought I would warn you, my public, before you invest more time in this. 

Anyway, since my last post, Christmas happened.  It was nice, we saw family, and I spent a week organizing all of my kids new stuff.  I won’t post pictures or explain more, because no one really needs a Christmas post in the last few days of February. 

Oh wait, I lied about the picture thing.  I did get an awesome camera for Christmas, and I LOVE IT.  It makes my children look even better, if that’s at all possible.  See below:

 Super clear pictures of some beautiful faces, right?  This camera is so snazzy I even had to watch a DVD to learn how to use it.  See how in the last picture my boy is all in focus and my girl is not?  I KNOW.  Impressive. 

The December organizing of toys followed me into January, where I felt like I needed everything to be, well, organized.  I get these feelings inside of me sometimes that make me feel like my whole house is a GIANT MESS.  Then I have to stop and organize it RIGHT THEN or and CANNOT GO ON WITH MY LIFE.  

It’s crazy, I know.  

Sometimes I wait it out and let it pass, like when I felt that way about the paid bills that are stacked on top of our filing cabinet.  I just ignored the nagging in my head and left them that way, because bills are not fun before or after.  The rest of the house, though, experienced my crazy wrath.

We also had 87 doctor’s appointments for Bella in December and January, followed up with 1 chest x-ray and 43 prescriptions.  Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but it felt that way.  We finally have an asthma plan that is working, and I am so grateful.  Being sick (or watching your kid be sick) stinks big time. 

February is now here (and almost over) and it was busy.  We had the usual Valentine’s Day fun, where I lost my fight to do crafty Valentines for Bella’s school to a popular blond:

We had a super busy weekend after the 14^th where we went to Waco for my parents to be honored with an Alumni by Choice award from Baylor.  (I feel like I should say here that this award was found by the fabulous Matt Benton, who then forwarded the info to us.  The nomination letter was written by the fabulous Andy Benton.  I really just was along for the ride.)  

It was very special ceremony with a yummy brunch.  I was so proud of my parents, who deserve this award for their great love of Baylor and their support (both emotional and financial) of my Baylor Education.  Sic 'em.

 (Yes, Hayes was not looking and has a wet spot on his pants.  Sigh.)

That same weekend, we drove back into town, unpacked, had church the next day, and then Andy and I attended a Missions Banquet that night.  

There are no pictures of that, but you should know that I was super proud of my brave fashion.  I wore a black dress and purple patterned tights with black short boots.  I know.  I’m cool.  

Really, I just had to do something because I don’t like my tall black boots anymore.  Don’t get me wrong, they are still really nice boots.  The toe and heel are just...not in.  I am keeping them though, because I know in ten years, they will be desirable again.  Everything comes back around.

Take colored jeans, for example.  They were here, gone, and now they are back.  I have seen them in stores and read about them on other blogs.  I will have you know that I wore cream-colored jeans on my first day of high school.  (Yes, I remember vividly what I was wearing. Many major memories for me are linked to outfits.  I’m not sure if that makes me have amazing attention to detail or if it just makes me a little pathetic.)

 

Another thing that came back around was the BEST DAY EVER, also known as my birthday.  I got lots of nice gifts throughout the day from Andy and the kids, and I loved that he had planned it all out like that.  We had a nice dinner with family and friends, where I had shrimp and cheesecake.  Only the best foods on the best day.   

 I also had very nice eye makeup at my dinner thanks to a YouTube video.  I also learned an eyeliner trick that has changed me.  All of those wasted years, doing to it the hard way.  (I told you this was not a blog that would change the world.)

Now, I am 31 years old.  I’m calling it my Baskin Robbins year…you know, like 31 flavors? 

It is alarming to me that my first trip to Target after turning 31 resulted in this coming with my receipt:

What are you trying to say, Target?

I also did an email worship survey for church the other day and, prepare yourselves…I had to check the 31-40 age bracket at the end.  It was like the 5^th bracket on the list.  

Don’t get me wrong, I realize living is such a privilege.   I hope to have many, many more birthdays.  It is just weird to have to read down the list to find your age for the first time. 

And clearly, what Target and the church survey people don’t know is that I still feel 20 in my heart, and that’s what matters.

They also don’t know that I can totally rock patterned tights and cream-colored jeans.

(Do not question if those jeans would even still fit me now.  That is not to be discussed on the internet.)

My Baby is Brilliant!

She's a reader!!! (with a Kool-Aid moustache)

I'm so proud!

The Poor

Poor people make me uncomfortable.

Or scared.

Or uncomfortable and scared.

We all have things that make us uncomfortable.  Like, being in the backseat of a car when the two people in the front seat are arguing.  Or trying to find the right words to say to a friend who has just had someone they love die.  Or public speaking.

Well, poor people make me feel that way at times.

Poor people, you say?  Really, Shene'?  Who are you?

Well I'll tell you what I'm not...I'm not poor.  And chances are, neither are you.

Don't believe me?  Calculate it here:  http://www.globalrichlist.com/

Statistics don't lie.  I am richer than 99% of the world.  Yes.  NINETY-NINE percent.

I think we like to conveniently forget this sometimes.  I know I like to have pity parties every now and then and make a mental list of all of the things I am "sacrificing".  I mean, the jeans I have on are from Target and now that we live on one income, I get my haircut at Supercuts.  

And then I look around me and I look at images from around the world and I get so sick of my "iPhone, 35 pairs of shoes, full pantry" self I can barely stand it.

But then, if I am so sick of myself and my "first world problems", why do I still feel the way I do about the poor?

Well, I think we are all uncomfortable and scared of what we don't understand.  And there is a lot about poverty I don't understand.  I don't know what it is like to truly live in those circumstances.  I don't understand the underlying mindsets and behaviors of the poor.  I don't know the "rules" there. (Just like I don't know the "rules" at a celebrity "A List" party.)  Poor people are different from me.  Just read some Dr. Ruby Payne if you need some proof. 

I am scared for my kids to be around poverty.  What will they hear?  What will they see?  What will they, gasp, learn? We are zoned to an elementary school that is not one of the "nicest".  We live three streets south of a major road.  Apparently, this major road is a natural dividing line between the desirable and undesirable schools around here.   We didn't know this at first.  It certainly wasn't on the real estate listing when we bought our house. 

I am uncomfortable with how poverty makes me feel about my life too.  I feel guilty at times.  Why was I born into a loving, middle class, two parent family?  Why did I get tons of toys at Christmas?  Why did I have the opportunity to get a good education and then attend a private university?  Why me and not them?

Tonight, I felt that scared, uncomfortableness in my belly as I drove to serve Thanksgiving dinner to low-income families in another part of town.  I hate admitting that.  I mean, these people are the reason for my husband's JOB.  You know, the one that pays him the money that keeps me in the 99%. 

And then I got there, and everything I just typed flew out the door.

People can be different, and very much the same.  I passed out dessert.  Everyone likes dessert.  That was my ticket in.  I just started talking to the guests.  I talked with a mama about her six month old baby.  I complimented her pigtails, and we discussed the fact that no matter how many bows you put on a baby girl's head, someone is going to call her a boy.  I talked with another mama about the huge leftover box she was taking home, and how her son was going to eat it all in a day.  We agreed that teenage boys will eat you out of house and home.  I talked with teenagers about school, and college, and being a teacher.

People, ALL people, like to be complimented, like to talk about their kids, and like to dream of a better future. 

People like to be loved. 

I saw my daughter play with children who are from a different world than her, and she didn't have a fat clue.  She just played.   She just laughed.  And I prayed that God would give me the strength to let her go, to let my school worries go.  She is not too good to go to school with kids that don't wear Gymboree and have themed birthday parties. 

People like to be accepted. 

The majority of my teaching career has been spent in low-income schools.  Andy works for a non-profit that serves low-income families.

Remember how poor people make me uncomfortable?

Thank you God, for your sense of humor.

Thank you for giving us your best, instead of what we thought was better.  May I not be haughty and associate with the lowly. (Romans 12:16)

May I love, because You first loved me.

I know it's not Wednesday...

Ok, so here's a "What's on my Phone? Wednesday" post. 

I know it's Friday.  I am a slacker.  But I still wanted to look at what our life has been like these past two weeks, according to Iris the iPhone...

We went to a birthday party for Bella's sweet friend, Maya.  It was at Chick-fil-a.  Isn't that princess cow so fun?

Do not, I repeat, do NOT use your hand to push down the trash when you have just made taco soup and there are lots of cans in there with sharp lids.  I cut my finger and it hurt!  I really thought I might have to get stitches, but didn't.  Now I just have a scar, and a fear of the trash can. 

I caught these two playing horse farm together one morning.  I love it when they are sweet like this. 

At Whataburger, because I am teaching my children to love the finer things in life. 

Our dog, Beatrice, has been attempting to escape.  Don't let her old-lady name fool you...she's a beast.

Since it's kinda fallish outside (below 90), we've been hanging out in the yard a lot more. 

While we were out on the wagon ride above, Bea got upset that she was left at home.  That 2x4 that was screwed into the fence was no match for her. 

Our pediatrician orders standard blood work at 12 months.  Yes, Hayes is 18 months and I just now remembered to do it.  Not only am I late with this "Wednesday" post, I am late with medical lab work too.  Winning.  (He did great, by the way.  He's a brave boy.)

And last, but not least...SIC 'EM BEARS!  Beat the Aggies tomorrow.  Tell them, "(SE)C you later!"

Fall Fashionista

Big news. 

I am on the verge of being sucked into the fantasticness that is Pinterest.

I realize I am quite possibly the only person left in America that is not doing this yet.  But, I have been putting off for a good reason.  I know that Pinterest is going to be like a pint of ice cream or Mad Men for me...once I start I won't be able to stop.  And my family probably likes clean clothes and cooked meals and such.  They are demanding like that.

Anyway, the invite to join Pinterest (so exclusive...oohlala) is sitting in my inbox.  I haven't quite taken the plunge.  I would also like to share that I have half a pint of ice cream in my freezer that has been there since Saturday.  That is THREE days.  I am a model of self-control.

I have, however, been browsing a bit at what other people have pinned.  I have really been looking at lots of cute fall fashions.  Good news:  The cardigan and chunky jewelry are in, and these things are like my BFF's.  Bad news:  It seems as if it will never be cool enough for me to wear fall clothes.  I am wearing a tank top and skirt as I type this.  Geez.

So my point is, fall weather needs to hurry.  I am ready. 

I also know of a certain five year old fashionista that is ready.  Bella got tons of cute fall/winter clothes for her birthday last month.  I wanted her to try them all on before I took off the tags, so rather than bribing her with candy corn (not that I would ever do that), I made it fun.  We had our own fashion show!

First, we put this little brother down for a nap.

I

 Oh, I love that face.  Anyway...

Then,we put on some bumpin' music, thanks to the wonder of cable music stations.

Next, we sat up our runway and audience:

Beatrice even attended.  No one knows fashion like our Beatrice. 

And then we modeled all of the hottest new looks:

As for this pose...oh my.  Interesting how sass doesn't have to be taught. 

The best part was that Bella kept calling our fashion show "Project Wrong Way". 

But I know this, if that much cuteness is wrong, I don't want to be right. 

Five

See this precious, brand new baby girl?

She looks like this now:

 

She is five.  FIVE. 

How did it go so fast?  How did I get so lucky?

This girl, she is brilliant.  She counted to 100 this morning, knows all her letters and sounds, and can write basic words.   She remembers things from YEARS ago in great detail.  She says, "Well, actually..." when she has every day conversations.  

She is loving.  She hugs her brother multiple times a day.  She ran to get her nurse's kit (that she made at church) when he fell down.  She snuggles in the mornings.  Her lovie duck, Ming Ming, is starting to look like the Velveteen Rabbit.

She is creative.  She sings often, and raises her hands to worship songs in the car.  She gives all of her Barbies different names and remembers who is who without fail. She draws or colors every day.  She is using a trash can and markers for her drum set as I type this. 

She knows what she likes.  She loves green beans and hates corn.  She would eat spaghetti or Chick-fil-a at every meal.  Strawberries are her favorite fruit.  She loves to watch musicals.  She prefers dress pajamas over ones with pants.  She loves to have her toenails painted, but hates getting them cut.  She will choose girly stuff at every opportunity, and spent thirty minutes being "Miss Hairstyler" with me earlier today.

She is five and fantastic.  I'm going to keep her.

Bella Kathryn,

When you were born and I heard your first cry, my heart felt like it was going to burst with love.  It was a moment I had waited and waited for.  I prayed, begged really, for God to give me a baby.  I told him I would take any baby...a girl baby, a boy baby, a green baby.  I didn't care.  Well, you see, God wasn't just going to give me any baby.  He is so much wiser than that.  He is never early.  He is never late.  He waited until September 15, 2006 at 5:09 pm to give you to your Daddy and me.  He was right on time.  And five years later I know that I really didn't want any baby.  What I wanted was you.

Grateful and so in love with you,
Mama