Take me out to the ballgame...

So, my hubby surprised me with tickets to the Brewers vs. Braves game last week!

Doesn't my hair look a little "woody wood peckerish"? Anyhoo, I really, really, really like watching the Brewers play at Miller Park. It is most definitely an environmental, atmospheric, aesthetic kind of experience for me as I don't know much about the team, though I could wow with you my knowledge of the sport. I like the cleanliness of the stadium, the bright scoreboards, the history of the park and there is nothing better than a $6 ballpark dog to make it a great night.

Mark took me to the game last year when we were a dating couple and was surprised at how much I knew. It was fun impressing him in this way. I hope that it becomes a staple in our lives, a getaway of sorts. I am often equally excited and appalled at the camaraderie that comes from professional sports. I mean, the sound of a crowd cheering in unison, the wave, striking up a shallow, but fun conversation with your fellow fan - who can beat it? Then, I remember that I paid a decent amount of money for the tickets and the food and the team isn't even winning, but who cares because they're still getting their gazillion dollar check no matter the scoreboard and then my stomach (and attitude) turn for the worse.

My negativity comes in that I think it's warped that we pay athletes so much, but our teachers, social workers and police officers are hurting. Never mind that, I know of NO position in the military that makes as much as professional athletes do...as a matter of fact, don't they get a check even larger than our president, the Commander in Chief? Whew! It almost makes my head hurting thinking about it.

Even with all of it, there's nothing like hearing the bat crack the ball as it soars far into outfield. There's nothing better than a double play with an extra close call (tie to the runner, thank you very much!) and believe me, the best part is your company. I absolutely adore attending the games with my hubby; he's my companion and my friend. I continue to wow him with my understanding of the game and he offers me tons of facts and history and stats. Lots and lots of stats. We enjoy ourselves greatly at the game and though I love to get dressed up and have fancy hair and nails, I really, really enjoy a day at the park. I am so glad that my husband likes to "take me out to the ballgame"...(you're singing it now aren't you?)

Great seats, hey?

Justathought...have you ever been in a crowded venue, people on their feet, shouting, whistling, whooping it up for whatever performer/entertainer they've come to see and thought or wondered how many of them will actually be going to heaven? I "go there" almost every time. Or here's another one that convicts me to the core...why am I willing to stand up and clap for this team (which has nothing to do with my salvation) but at church on Sunday, am hesitant to stand for the singers, evangelists or speakers who are worshipping and praising our God? WOW!!!!

There's nothing wrong with enjoying the pleasures of this world, just as long as they don't hurt God or our relationship with Him. And they can, if we let them. I think the realization that my support at a game vs. my support at church is an opportunity for me to consciously grow. It'll always matter that my heart in the support is truly pleasing to God; to not to just go through the motions to bring about balance or equilibrium, or because four of you actually read this post and will now be "watching me", but...instead, that it is my heart to stand and praise and encourage others as they help me in my worship to God.

This game was a lot of fun. Until the bottom of the 7th, we were losing to the Braves (my Alma mater, if you will - shout out to ATL!!!!) and then a shift in one batter turned it all around. We needed the fever to catch, the Brewers rallied and made punts and walks work to their advantage. They played until the game no longer needed to be played and maybe that's what makes folks jump to their feet and cheer for their home team. It inspires hope within them. And hope is God. I believe He'll use anything for His glory and perhaps this come-from-behind victory is an example of that.

Nevertheless, I can say that my hope is in Christ alone. I know that even if the scoreboard had been reversed, it would not have changed much of anything for me or my life. Only the Good News can do that!

Even still, "...buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks, I don't care if I never get back for it's root, root, root for the home team, for if they don't win it's a shame, for it's 1, 2, 3 strikes you're out at the old ball game!!!!"

Dylan remembers Chad

So, we returned to Monona to remember Chad.

I was definitely not the only one who felt conflicted in this visit. With me being newly married to Mark and Dylan excited about having a father in his life again, his emotions were all over the place as we visited the grave site. The usually chatty and easily excitable little boy was quiet and sullen. I tried telling the stories I've often told him about his dad (lighthearted, fun ones), but they did not evoke the reaction of joy that they used to. It was clear, without it being said, that the stories would remain where they are, that there would be no new stories to tell. Dylan is now regulated to knowing his dad through the photos, news clippings, a few journal entries during his time in Iraq and the couple dozen regurgitated stories about him and his dad together. The stillness was stifling.

When it comes to the emotions of this day, I become fiercely protective of this little boy. While we've moved on from the tragedy of Chad's death, I'm still often hurt that Dylan is having to go through life without his birth father to see him grow up. That he'll often wonder about that part of him or possibly feel, at times, incomplete. The injury and later Chad's death forced Dylan to mature in a lot of ways. What a lot to handle at 6 years old. Thankfully though, he doesn't run from his emotions and the opportunity to remember. When we left the grave site, we offered him a choice as to whether he'd go and view the memorial or not and without hesitation, but with sadness, he said "yes".















The memorial stands at 1401 Wright Street in Madison, WI. Chad's name is at the top, as he was the highest ranking Marine to lose his life on this tour from Golf Company.

When a serviceman or woman is lost in the battlefield, it has become customary to arrange their Boots, Rifle and Helmet and the surviving members of their squad will gather around and memorialize their fallen comrades. Some of the troops will pray, others might recall funny stories, but make no mistake, this is a ceremony that is taken very seriously. Every soldier knows the next ceremony might be for them. This arrangement is also known as a Battlefield Cross or a Battle Cross.

Go to: http://largeart.com/detail.aspx?ID=107 for more information on how these statues/memorials are made.

I look at this picture of our little boy and I hope that the hardest parts of his life are in the past. I know there are no guarantees, but is a sincere hope of mine. He wants to make his deceased father proud and tries with all of his efforts to enjoy his new dad (as he came to the conclusion to call Mark, all on his own). This picture shows me a boy that is well beyond his almost 9 years and it makes me sad. I am eager to embrace the 5 year old in him that comes out when he feels safe. It warms my heart that he still wants to be a little boy...even in a wife beater shirt (he does have more clothes).

Dylan, to you - your Chad dad couldn't help but be proud of you. You're a wonderful, lovable person. He was around long enough to instill boyishness in you and leave you with some of the best parts of himself. Remember his sacrifice for many and remember his love for you.

It is painful to live through death. My first husband was not resurrected and in a way, I expected him to be, but his injuries were so bad that he never spoke to any of us again. I don't know what his last thoughts were, Dylan never got to hear his voice again or be hugged by him or wrestle with his dad. He faded away. One of the biggest things that continues to pull me through is knowing that God knows how I feel. He knows what it feels to lose something, He chose to lose Christ for each of us. God knew that it'd be painful for us to be alone here and blessed our broken road leading us straight to Mark, Taylor, Sabrina and Veronica. It is wonderful in a lot of ways, hard too, but I trust that the pain will not be wasted as we continue on in the journey called "life".

It is hard to move forward without knowing where you're headed and I believe that to an extent, you need to know where you've been. We will continue to remember Chad and the graciousness of Jesus our Savior and the ultimate sacrifice for our souls.

We will remember...

The JOYS of Memorial Day Weekend

So, Memorial Day Weekend is kind of tricky for our family.

It is a time for remembering and memorializing those who've given and sacrificed their lives for our country's freedoms. They protected and gave and ultimately died. In our case, it was my first husband, SSgt. Chad Simon (USMC), who died from injuries sustained after being hit by an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) in the Iraq war. Due to the longevity of the attempts at recovery and many of the struggles surrounding the ordeal, it is unlikely we will ever be able to regulate our memories to just one long weekend. On the contrary, for the rest of our lives, we'll be reminded of up close impacts of the ultimate cost of war.

Despite the reality of how uncomfortable this weekend could be, the past and the present melding together even more permanently...we worked hard to find the joys in this emotional weekend by surrounding ourselves with people who understood (as much as possible) the challenges we'd been through and who had experienced loss and pain in it themselves. While a cloud of grief and pain permeated the weekend's activities, there was still a lot to smile about.


To the (top) left; Brian, Mark and Greg let me take a quick photo of them sitting & talking around the fire. The sun is going down and it is a beautiful evening, perfect for drawing close to our friends. There was Upside down Rhubarb Cake, Taco Dip & S'mores...yummy!!!! We also enjoyed some beer and wine, but most of all, just the sounds of nature, ease of conversation and our friends' love made this evening really wonderful for us.

Above, we went on a walk with Vicky, Bill and Desi (the dog). Even though it was a quick walk, it brought us back to the simplicity of life and the greatness of nature. Beautiful. We get why they love living out there and how it gives you an opportunity to slow down and remember the good things.


Vicky is walking in front of me (I don't think she knows I've snapped this picture)...she and Bill are such great hosts. We jokingly refer to their home as our own private B&B. The food is phenomenal, the conversation is encouraging and open, the comfort of their home is a great safe haven, a wonderful place to recharge and re-energize. They are also a blended family and have a lot of wisdom and experience for us to draw from. Vicky is a dear friend. Attentive to details and perceptive, but also warm and real. We're grateful to have found real friendships in them...no matter that it came through tragedy.

Below is Lyle & Judy Harbort. I am so grateful for their continued love. They could have withdrawn from us so many times along the way, but they chose to love us, even though I'm not married to their nephew anymore. They spoil both Dylan and I, and now Mark too. We watched the Monona Memorial Day Parade with them and then they had us back to their house for a small cookout and just chill time. The boys tried to get in the pool, but it was too cold. They just make us feel so loved and welcome. One of the many joys that has come through the pain.

Top center; Keith is sitting with Dylan at the parade. They have been friends for a long time. (His dad is in the first picture at the top, far left) Keith had some tough choices to make about being with us on this day. The day before, Keith's family was hosting a cookout. When we came to get Dylan, Keith had to choose between coming with us at that time and leaving a large, fun group of friends playing at his house/with his stuff or waiting to meet up with us in the morning for Memorial Day. He chose to come with us in that moment and our day of helping Dylan remember his Chad dad, would not have been the same had he not joined us. Keith, at 8 years old, has a deep compassion for what Dylan has been through. He wanted to visit the grave site with us and wanted to be included in the prayers and memories. He even drew a picture (of R2D2) and left it at the site. It fills my heart with joy that Dylan has a friend to relate to him on his level and at his age.

My biggest joy is that I'm married to Mark Erickson. I mean seriously, he stepped into our world before him and he embraced and supported Dylan and me through the entire thing. His feelings were hurt at different times in the weekend (as anyone might be), but he opened his Bible and at times, opened his heart (thanks for checking on him Brian) and he chose to love, to deny himself and to give beyond how challenged his heart was. That is love and I am joyful to see it as so...

The Bible says to "be joyful always" (1 Thessalonians 5:16). Our friends were sure we'd be able to pull joy out of the things we've been through and they were right. Here we are...embracing a bit of joy even in some of the hardest memories of our lives so far.

Thank you God for the blessings of these relationships and the joy that we have received from Your gifts.

My baby is shaving

So, my son apparently passed quite a few stages in life and is now shaving. Yes, my baby is shaving.

Here's what happened...

After a week with four kids, our Friday nights really consist of the three of us (Mark, myself and Dylan) recharging our batteries, sometimes together, but mostly in front of a TV, dozing and just being in one another's company. Mark and I were fortunate to cuddle a few extra minutes together as Dylan went to take a bath. Nothing out of the ordinary...yet.
Dylan emerges from his bath within a normal time frame and is working his way back into the groove of what is now "E3" (3 Ericksons vs. 6 Ericksons - aka E6) and I notice that his eye looks funny. "What did you do?" I shout! "Mirror, now!" I stomp behind him to emphasize anger and to cover the fact that I'm scared and nervous about what my son has just done to his eyebrow.

Mark, knowing how hysterical I'm about to get, follows us into the bathroom without an invitation and proceeds to "Wimbeldon" view the conversation. In an instant, I'm sure my son is trying to grow up on me and decided to express himself by shaving one of his eyebrows AND that he's lying to me about it as well. He reiterates that he has no idea how his eye got like that. And I seriously mean this when I say, thank you Jesus for Mark being a boy...

I choose to excuse myself and Mark takes over the conversation on the tail end of another loud walking episode and a big "WOW" on my part (exit stage left) and as if to punish them for not seeing it my way, I go off and start cleaning another room (that'll teach 'em). As I'm cleaning, I begin to pray and breathe more deeply and allow the Spirit to calm me, realizing that whatever he did with the razor, God protected him by not having him be bleeding or shaving his eyeball out. I head back into the bathroom where both boys are talking in solid, quiet tones and I listen as the real deal is unveiled.

Turns out, Dylan has decided to shave his face like he's seen his dad do. He has grabbed my women's razor and lathered up his face and shaved his chin and neck area. The mishap came in when he went to rub soap out of his eyes and shaved off the upper part of his left eyebrow (look closely, can't you see the difference?, get closer, lean in...it's there!). He really did not have a clue that he'd done this and so escaped a big night of discipline as the explanation of how only women pluck, wax and upkeep their eyebrows was shared and that Taylor (who has 3.5 years on him) isn't even shaving yet and that he'd have his opportunity at the right time to shave for the rest of his life. We all chalked it up to a close call and prayerfully, a lesson learned.

As we walked out of the bathroom, I had to force my shoulders into a relaxed state, I was so stressed out about how bad it COULD have been. I truly believe that God gave me (moms see everything right?) enough of a signal to bring it to the carpet, so that we could lovingly teach and direct him beyond making the same choice again. Not only was it hard to swallow that two more inches down could have changed Dylan permanently, but that my son, my baby is growing up. He will be a man someday, right before my eyes he's heading in that direction and I need to get more ready than I thought I was.

Thankfully, there is a conscious effort to encourage his love for God and help him trust in God's love for him. I was reminded in an instant that this life, this time with my precious baby boy is temporary and that someday he'll choose for himself a college (if he chooses that at all), a wife and ultimately he'll choose (or not choose) God. I pray that his choices are swamped in scriptures and examples of godly men.

I pray that when he finally does begin to shave real hairs off of his face, that he'll be shaving as a young man who is in Christ.

(sigh) My baby's not a baby anymore.

Who's on first?

So, it takes a lot of creativity and support to pickup our four children from their respective schools.

Here's how it works.

The girls, Sabrina, 8 and Veronica, 5 are at the same elementary school and need to be picked up first. Depending upon how they feel about the adult picking them up, the pick up can go smoothly and quickly or require a lot of waiting, patience and correction. The teachers know me and are helpful with the transition, but this can sometimes be a stressful moment in and of itself because I'm never sure what type of greeting I'll get. It matters to me and can have an affect on the rest of our evening, so I try to pray and have no expectations when I arrive.

Then, we're off to pick up Taylor, the oldest. He's in middle school. And whether he has track or not determines whether he's a part of the group pick up or not. He's gotten so much better at doing his part to make the pickup easier, by leaving his friends to wait across the street from all of the "afterschool action" so that we're not waiting on him. I have to prepare my heart and my mouth for these interactions...some days he's willing and ready to talk and share about all of the endeavors of his day. It's astonishing to me that he'll actually tell me about girls and school if I'll keep quiet and ask one or two open ended questions. My heart is beating the entire time because as much as he's a kid and I have plenty of great friends of my own, I want this kid to like me. So, I have to fight being cool (or tying to be) and just be...

Finally, we stop off at the Dregers who are holding onto Dylan. What a great deal! He gets to hang with one of his best buds at school, recess and then on the weeks that we are at 6, he gets to go home and continue the hang time with Trey & Cael. While Dylan is incredibly resilient and could likely have fun at anyone's house, it's the greatest setup ever as he's getting some time with people who've known him from the get go. I swing by to grab him and get to see my friends too.

With so many lives to account for, I can say that I am most days earnestly living the "Who's on first?" skit. Our lives with 6 can be confusing and is definitely (at times) funny. It is incredibly important for me to slow down and dissect a little bit of God's word to remember what's important, where we're headed and how to hopefully get there with Him as the leader. I take a couple of breaths to let that sink in and...

Then we're off! We're off to creating a family, establishing routines and creating our own traditions. It's not normal(whatever that is) how we get everyone from point A to point Q, but with communication and faithfulness we're blessed to have it work - most of the time. It's home for dinner, chores, homework, devotionals, midweeks, company, trips to the park or for times of conversation and discipline. Whatever it is, it's our family.

I believe that God has allowed many things to happen in my life that allow me to practice "letting go" and one of the biggest ways that I'm attempting to do that is to focus on our family and what it is really like, rather than trying to fit it into what it "should" be like. We will be experiencing and creating our family over a lifetime and in that time watching how God works things out. He blesses us when we pray about working on our schedules and the details required to get everyone where they need to be. For Taylor, it's track, the creative arts ministry, sometimes it's to a school dance/event. For Dylan, it's soccer, Cub Scouts, Trey's house, back to Madison to visit or just to friends' homes here as he builds new relationships. For both girls, we're working on introducing them into more of a social life in the next few months...perhaps dance or gymnastics for Sabrina and theatre or theatre for Veronica, but it's only going to add another level of "go, go, go" to our group.

Life is full though as we come together and allow God to show us the blessings through all of the transition. It doesn't always feel good or go smoothly, but I still really love it, even if I have no clue who's on first and sometimes where first really is.

Whoa is knee

So, Mark does NOT need surgery on his right knee after all. He's been experiencing some sharp pains in it over the past couple of weeks so we went to the doctor and had it looked at. The doctor was quite understanding (he didn't give us the "are you sure it's not all in your head" vibe) as he experiences the same kinds of pain himself. It comes and goes, the doctor says. Usually around the time when there's more activity than normal...spring opportunities after a long and closed off winter. Pardon my attempt at medical information relaying, but here goes: There is some white stuff underneath the knee cap that separates the cap from the stuff (cartilage, maybe?) and that white stuff (and it's probably not even white inside our body, but it was on the poster) is wearing down in Mark's right knee, causing it to rub in places in his leg that aren't meant to be rubbed against. OUCH!!! The doctor recommended some soccer kicking and leg lifting and sent us on our merry way.

My husband is a bit of a ham, but when it comes to getting medical attention...he's all about it. Not me, I'm gonna sit on some good old drug help and let it get really bad before I go see a doctor (no offense Tina). I hope I'll learn from him how to be more grateful for medications and not always wait and hope it gets better in fear of hearing bad news or getting a shot. (I strongly dislike shots.) With a family of 6 and a co-pay of $10 per visit (except dental), I'm thinking we oughta start our own walk-a-thon or something.

We've been incredibly blessed not to have been hit with the storm of illnesses around us, but when it does, it'll be unlike anything I can ever recall experiencing before. What an opportunity to trust. I realize how much I like "my time" at home during the day. I can be incredibly productive and get a lot of the behind-the-scene things completed from my to do list, but can be incredibly overwhelmed when things (like illness or life) interfere with that. The thought of 4 kids being sick 2 or 3 weeks at a time at that overlapping with one another, let the praying begin!

God has blessed us again with health through Mark's knee check up, but I do know that He's not doing it just so that I can protect my schedule. Reading Isaiah 28:16 helps me to remember my quest to trust God more deeply and the promise that He attaches to that trust; in a doctor's visit, dropping our children off at school, the foods we prepare for them, the friends they play with, our insecurities about our relationships, our fears about history repeating itself...oh, the list just goes on and on and the opportunities to trust grow and grow.

I'm grateful for Mark's proactive heart toward seeking medical help and clarifying problems early on. I hope to imitate him in this area of trust. The how for me isn't as clear, just yet. Especially when I've got a white layer (like the knee) that is worn around my heart, not functioning as well due to a lot of damage, wear and tear. I know I need to exercise the heart and work that layer of protection into God's hands and let Him deal with it. I've got to see Him as my healer and allow Him to attend to me in my still pain-filled heart. I don't exactly know HOW, but I do know that I'm seeing the Doctor and that it'll take time. I get to trust as He does His thing and restores my heart to the way it was always intended. I can't wait to watch Mark play softball on a fully healed knee after he's worked and exercised to restore it as the doctor suggested and am even more excited to see what life will be like as God continues to work and exercise my own heart for Him.

So while I wait on the Lord, I'll keep asking myself: to knee or not to knee, that is the question...

(oh my goodness, I'm seriously considering trying out for next season's "Last Comic Standing")

Catwoman

So, I think I may be a cat.

This chair is in our sunroom at the back of the house. And while I realize it would have been a better shot with me IN the chair, I wanted to get my blog post done for the night before it got too late. Anyway, this chair faces our backyard that I'm able to see through a large window that allows the sun to seep through it, bathing me in its comfort and warmth. Often times, I'll just sit and look outside, listening to the birds chirping or the neighbors talking or sometimes the construction crews down the street working. Other times, I'll sit with my journal and Bible(s) open studying God's word. Today, I felt like a cat in my chair.

I had already had some quality time of prayer and reading with God today...1 Peter 2:16 & 17 was convicting to my heart. I cleaned and folded some laundry. I was also keeping an ear out for a sick kidlet. (Dylan had a bellyache) When I could finally rest, I plopped into my special chair, I closed my eyes and squished myself into a curled ball, much like a cat slumbering in the sun and I zonked out for about an hour. I was drooling (can't be seen in the photo); it was a much needed sleep. When we bought this house, I didn't even realize how special this room/this place would become for me. It has been a place for deep talks with friends and for daily connection conversations with my husband, but it's biggest draw for me is as my meeting place with God.

Now don't get me wrong, God is everywhere and when I'm unified with Him, He's within me (and other places in our home are quite nice). But, it is nice to have a special place for the two of us right inside our home. It has become a place where I can retreat and settle quickly into being prepared to be transformed, disciplined, renewed, comforted and encouraged. It is just me and God, but since it's also the family's most used entryway into our home, there are often visible reminders of how full my life is (tennis shoes, cleats, flip flops, backpacks, toys, briefcases) and it can be incredibly helpful for me for me to consider the people that fit into those things. Cats don't think like that, do they?

I am grateful to be where I am in my life (even though it doesn't always feel like this chair) and have a place like this to take the time to ponder more about what that means and what it looks like from God's heart and perfect love and from my own. It reminds me that I have time to slow down and let the developing take place. And what a cushy place to do that even though I'm not always a fan of the conclusions I come to about where I am. Even still, day after day, most likely with a cup of coffee, I'll be returning to this spot for some precious time to revere my God and let Him grow me....yawwnnnn, stretch, hissss...through it all.

24

So, the last 24 hours has been a bit of a level orange chaos (whatever the second highest level of danger is). Consider yourself officially security checked to read this post.

Now for the record, I'm redefining the word "chaos" or I should say that being married to a boy and living with two other boys is helping me to redefine and possibly exchange the word "chaos" for fun, excitement and adventure. It's a whole new world inside their heads and hearts and it is one I have to buckle my belt to enter. The hardwiring of a boy is so intriguing to me...did I say that, I meant frustrating because it makes little sense to me. When one of our kids was without their regular entertainment, two of them pulled together to make their own "sculpture" (see below). They were so excited, they wanted photos taken and this is it. While I'll admit it is pretty creative, that's all of the fun I see in it. I just know that it can't be touched and that they spent A LOT of time working on it. I love that both of our boys have a great imagination, Mark and I have really contemplated investing in nice sketchbooks for them. Taylor is even a part of the Creative Arts Ministry at our church (I'll share more work with the artist's permission).

We actually arrived in Madison much earlier than anticipated, yes...I said EARLIER. So, we had an opportunity to treat ourselves to one of our favorite restaurants. Oh, so yummy! And since we went to Jamaica for our honeymoon, YEA MON, we couldn't wait to enjoy this treat as a newly married couple. We waited in anticipation for our food as Bob (oh come on, you know Bob) sang to us. It was just for us, this moment was ours. In slow motion the waitress brought our food, Mark's Jerk Chicken and my Curry Chicken. We prayed with smiles on our faces and our stomachs leaping onto the table with excitement for what was to come. It was a quick meal, delicious and wonderful. It is such good food, did I convey that? And since there isn't one in Milwaukee (starting another petition...) we get to enjoy it even that much more. 10 stars for David's!!!!We had to get going...we had purpose beyond David's for driving into Madison. Gas prices, ouch!!!! These two people here are dear, dear friends of ours. Meet CaSondra and Ben. In 68 days (if I have the countdown right) they'll be Mr. & Mrs. Shim. A "Jack & Jill Shower" was hosted in their honor. It was such a privilege to make the toast with Mark for them. Mark and I also helped one of his lifelong dreams come true...to be a game show host. We had questions for them to answer about one another in the fashion of the "Newlywed Game Show" and it was a blast to watch them get into the game, encourage one another, laugh and really show their knowledge and love for one another. A classy, wine & cheese party (V, Mark said the artichoke dip was good...gotta get the recipe) and great music, lots of laughter and smiles. A warm night well worth driving in to be a part of. Congratulations again you two! Fortunately for us one of the bridesmaids and groomsmen from our wedding are married and have a spare bedroom that we could stay in, so we crashed at their home (thank you Bowlings!) and headed back to Milwaukee behind schedule...yes, I said late.

Dylan and I had a birthday party to get to. Eric Williams, Jr. was having his 7th birthday party at the Uiehlein Soccer Park. 13 boys had an entire indoor soccer field to themselves. Oh, so much fun to watch boys be boys. (Monica was there, are you following me? he, he) It's obvious we as moms are somewhat stumped about how best to manage them...when do we let go, when do we hold them back, what decisions do we make for them, which mistakes do we watch them fall into? We watched them be boys and there was a silent gratitude in the air for them helping us understand a little more about the grown boys in our lives. Interesting how watching them together made some of the "boystuff" seem more normal to me. Anyway, add running, tackling and scoring to pizza, cake and soda and you have a great afternoon of fun. Mom (me Mom) is wiped out by this point, we helped clean up and headed for home...Once home from the birthday party, I realized that my expectations to relax were not going to happen...why would I think that would be the case, we have all four kids and they're not in bed asleep yet.

We were gone overnight and we returned back home and it was time to crack the whip, as they say...though we don't have a whip, but we were gonna crack it. In working really hard to build some parenting unity, we decide to tackle the chaos and dysfunction with some of the things not so right in and around the house. So, we start asking questions like, why is this in the backyard? Why is this mug here? Who took that outside? Was there a fire that you needed to leave those juice boxes right in the middle of the grass (hey where did you get those juice boxes anyway, we didn't buy those)? We got to the bottom of it all - because we cracked that whip - only to find that "I didn't do it" had done it all. [Funny, I don't recall giving birth to that child, nevermind he/she's here all of the time.] Dylan runs out to get the water bottle that he's sure he didn't put out there (though it's his water bottle that he was using yesterday when we left) and comes back shrieking and laughing about there being a dead mouse in the backyard. Mark says we ought to be thankful that it wasn't Sabrina who would've likely picked it up with her bare hands and brought it into the house...yikes! So, they - all of them went out to get a closer look only to find it wasn't a tiny mouse at all, but almost the length of Taylor's foot. Uwckk. I got this close (zoom included) standing on a patio chair, then ran back into the house screaming. It was an interesting 24 hours (and these are only the highlights). I think it was as exciting as an episode of the highly rated television show. Did I mention there was a heated discussion about parenting on the way back from Madison to Milwaukee? Or that we had four or five "working it out/talking it through" conversations with all of our kids; so that when it came to asking who had a rough night 3 of the 4 had to agree that they'd been talked to, disciplined, redirected and flat out spanked since the the time we walked in the door. Or all of the other hundreds of things that you ought or need to do because if you don't do them they won't get done?

In all of that, I can still praise God (Psalm 147:1). Even with the confusion of boys, being late, dead animals, disobedience, chaos, lack of respect and regular life all piled on top of one another, there is still much to be grateful to God for. For God's mercy & grace...He forgives me everytime and redirects my path. For Mark; he is a smart and loving man. He is optimistic and faithful. He really loves and cares for me and is a great dad. For our children who in true kid form, were much better behaved with the sitter than with us. For great friends who help us out (Lorie Pukenis & Brian and Vanessa Bowling) so that we can help and encourage others.

Oh, the list could go on and, but I'd better get some rest to gear up for the next 24 hours.

Ahh, the carnival...

So, who says $20 at the carnival can't buy happy kids?

Underwood Elementary School (Brina, 2nd grade and Roni, SR-K) was hosting their Spring Carnival and I will say, it was quite the event. 7 or 8 of those bouncy thingys, dunk tank with the principal in it, face and hair painting, food, soda, live band. It was very small town America family fun feel night. I like the feeling of those nights...

Within minutes of arriving, our three youngest had "lost" their shoes and took to doing it all as quickly as possible. They were so excited that within two minutes of me taking my post at the registration table as a volunteer, Dad approached me with the announcement that he'd "lost" Sabrina. Lost shoes, lost child. Hello Ripleys!!! We weren't worried, with all of those brightly colored bouncy thingys and no drivers license, how far would she (or the others) really get. Ohhh...the fun of the carnival.

Veronica and Sabrina posed for this and many other pictures. They were having a delightful time. I was impressed at how independent they were at the various activities, how skilled they were at having fun...just like all of the other kids. Sabrina tried her hand at the basketball toss and got one in, big hoop, teeny tiny ball...she conquered it!

The oldest is certainly at an age where he's seeking to determine who he is. His carnival experience from the outside looking in seemed to be sugar, sugar and girls. Whenever I looked up, there he was with candy or gum in hand or mouth and either two or three girls by his side or following him. Whew, am I ready for this? Were we like this? Really, we were like this?

Anyhoo, I imagine the school raised a lot of money. It was a nice, light atmosphere and after a stressful day, I found myself soaking in the sounds of carnival, childhood and strange as it may seem, a feel of America...I had let down my guard. I was there in the midst of a world that at times can seem so harmless, not worth getting up in arms about. We went to have fun with our kids, but I couldn't help but consider the spiritual battle going on around us EVERYWHERE. It was in what the kids were wearing, what they weren't wearing to what they were saying to their parents and what their parents were saying to each other. God is so good though. He reminds me of His steadfastness even when walking with Him isn't always "a boisterious merrymaking" (Merriam-Webster's definition of carnival).

In this life, we surely need nights out like this to help lift our spirits, but even at the carnival, even on the "upswings" of life, we need to remember to pray.

The People of Myanmar

So, I'm struggling to grasp the magnitude of support needed for the Myanmar people. I have to be honest and share that I didn't even think cyclones were real things and knew less of a country called Myanmar (my geography skills are shameful - I am not smarter than a 5th grader). Even when I attempted to understand how a storm of this magnitude could form, I could only shake my head and be grateful that those types of storms are near unheard of here in Wisconsin or where my parents live in Georgia.Myanmar, also known as Burma, is in the southern continent of Asia. It borders the Indian Ocean and has been devastated by the cyclone that hit only two days ago. While Myanmar is mostly a Buddhist country, there are a variation of other religions, including Christianity and I believe that God is working His plan in this situation and this country while never taking His eyes and heart off of each of us, even in this country's current crisis. Amazing...
I look at this photo of the damage beneath the house and the two kids peeking outside of its window and I consider how resilient God has made us as people. I don't see the children's faces up close, but I believe that as their basic needs are met and they are surrounded in love, they'll still be children. I don't understand the exact how of it all, but by faith (and a little experience of our own), I believe that the people who've survived and are given aid, will be strengthened.
The caption on the website stated that these people were sitting by the road waiting for supplies to be delivered. I pray that they will not have to wait long for the water purification systems to be put into place, for the rice and other foods that are being delivered and for everyday items like clothes, blankets and money. I pray that the peace of God would rest over this country and that His glory would be done. Here others wait for supplies, for how long - I wonder. Is there even enough for everyone or will they again wait later in the day or repeat the process the following morning? It appears to be mostly women and children waiting. I wonder if the men are alive and repairing their homes or if they are among the large death toll. I'm curious as to whether the communities are pulling together in support of one another as they wait for relief or if they're pulled apart and strained beyond to consider others outside of their immediate loved ones. The photos make this only a little more real for me. It is somewhat embarrassing to admit because I feel so desensitized to what is likely happening beyond the snapshots here. I walked away more shaken by "I am Legend" than the footage I've seen about Myanmar. It is shameful that I have been so numbed to others pain, their life's upheavel. It seems like a land so far away from my life, my culture, my world. I wonder if they thought this of us as the twin towers were attacked in 2001. Tragedies are happening everyday and I believe that God has a plan and purpose behind the big ones like Myanmar, like Hurricane Katrina (2005), the earthquakes in China this week and even the little tragedies that happen in our own individual lives. I trust that He is in control, especially now. And it it is into His hands that I put the people of Myanmar.

I am a writer, I'm not gon give up...

So, I'm taking this writing course. It is my second writing session and I'm actually producing written pieces - they're rough, but they're written. I am digging into the writing process, developing characters, having my work critiqued by other writers inside the process and loving it!

I came to this experience when I first moved to Wauwatosa last summer. I wanted something to help hone the talents that people kept telling me I had. I wanted to see if it was really there. God directed my paths...I put "writing classes" into the Google Search Engine, with "Milwaukee" in the location box and "Redbird Studios" [http://www.redbirdstudio.com/] was the only option that presented itself in the results box. There is so much potential for me to use this resource to actually publish my work while learning to appreciate the process that goes into making my favorite pastime (reading) possible. Thanks to the ever persistent encouragement of my friend Vanessa (thank you V for pushing me uphill), I'm out on the open page and not allowing my fear of creative blockage, failure or the red pen suffocate my attempts to write.

Today was the first of four roundtables (1 each month over the summer). The roundtables are critique groups designed to support writers as they work on projects and continue developing the craft. Groups are small. Leaders are committed to helping participants reach their individual writing goals - big project or small, fiction, nonfiction or plays. As a member of the group, you read your work, receive feedback, share ideas and build a network of writing friends. Redbird roundtable groups are appropriate for dedicated writers who have attended the Shut Up and Write! seminar. When there is a waiting list for roundtables - which is often the case - returnees get first dibs, followed by those who recently attended Shut Up and Write! - Yes I did shut up and write gurlfriend, das how I got to da the roundtabul. (cracking me up)

I am roundtabling it. I'm all up in it; sharing my thoughts about others' pieces and really heeding the wisdom, encouragements and critiques shared about my own. Though I've been working on a piece now for over 6 months, I can't let it go. It's called "Casualties of War". I shared only the first two paragraphs today at roundtables, though I'd shared it before and even entered it into a contest (didn't win, didn't place, didn't even get a rejection letter...yikes!), it keeps coming back to me as a story that is demanding to be told. I'm sharing it here now with you just as I shared it in class and then below, I'll share the comments of some of my fellow circlefolk.

(Throat clearing sound entered here)
**************
Livy leaned in as the pale, disheveled woman next to her finished her sentence, blew her nose into the already crumpled Kleenex, and continued to share her pain. Livy nodded absently and smiled bleakly, it was her best effort at empathy. Livy was new to the group, she was trying to pay attention and connect. It seemed that everyone in the room understood what Sue was sharing. She could relate to Sue's loss. 34 years old and surrounded by other grieving, sad souls. Lost women searching for their lost souls. War killed off their families, their lives, their loves. The stories were different, but with one common thread. They were all desperate to at least find acceptable paths, if not peaceful ones to repair the life changing damages of war.

As the sharing continued, Livy's heart went out to Sue and the others. She knew she had enough in common with these women to be here, but as Sue broke down, convulsing with pain, taking control of her body, her breathing, Livy checked out. The persistent hum of the fluorescent lighting raised up and drowned out her grim surroundings and air lifted her out of the room firing her into their past with the power behind a bullet.
****************
There were 10 of us around the table and it was quickly evident that my piece, short as it was, would need a lot of revision. The facilitator/owner (Judy Bridges) took me back to the basics...she wanted to "see and hear" more of what was happening in the scene rather than be told about it. Others felt that I'd built their interest and they definitely wanted to read more, but felt that it was a bit passive. One RT (Roundtabler) wrote, "very poetic writing, the structure is a little loose". Another wrote, "Beautiful writing, Regina. I want to read more." One RT encouraged me greatly when they wrote, "Great perspective - you hear so much of the heroes lost, but not of the victims left behind". That's exactly what this piece will be about...I believe I'm headed in the right direction.

I'm writing. I'm writing! I am writing. I am a writer! And again, I'm blessed by God with what I need. He knew that I'd be more successful with some structure and accountability, and has given me my current format in roundtables. It is an exciting format for this stage of my writing to get me out there (in writing land), stepping out of my comfort zone, so that I can show my talents.

God has many imitative abilities - I am delighted that WRITER is one of them.

Ugh...

So, I'm having one of THOSE days...you know the ones I mean. Nothing devastating has actually happened...my child hasn't stolen the new car and taken it for a spin into a nearby tree, there were no house fires set (intentionally or unintentionally) and we're all relatively healthy, sane and "with it", so, where does the funk come from; especially after having had an incredibly wonderful day less than 24 hours before? I can't explain it, but it's where I'm at today. Maybe I'm missing having the entire posse together - (Mark's kids are with their mom this week). Or maybe it's just the lull between sure to come dramas or maybe it's the Asian Bird Flu (I am a bit of a hypochondriac). Even as I ponder those, none of them give me that "BINGO!" feeling.

Perhaps it's the permeating weight that there are many more things to accomplish than there are hours to check them off in or that one of those little things that doesn't seem like a big deal happens - though unintentionally - but it hits to the core of your heart, your insecurities and weaknesses. Yep, that's it! Ugh...

I got hurt today when I felt I wasn't considered. Within our daily lives, it can be difficult to connect communication wise. Between Mark's high stress job as a Juvenile Intake Specialist (JIS) for the Children's Court Center, our four kids and their needs - seriously, do I need to list any of those, you've got kids? you know what I mean - me trying to manage a home of 6 rather than 2, still seeking and saving the lost, loving our families and friends, sleep, bathroom breaks and an occasional viewing of "The Office", we hardly seem to have enough time to fit it all in. So, naturally details get overlooked and I can easily feel left out. I know in my head that none of this was done intentionally - he doesn't have time nor the heart to intentionally create situations that are designed to hurt my heart. Nonetheless, I still feel "ughish".

While I'm fighting not to give into it, I do realize that sharing my weaknesses and bringing them out into the light can stifle the craziness that leads me into sin. It's an opportunity for me to trust my God and those around me while He pulls me back to center. Today, I got to share some of my God time with Monica (baptized - Easter of 2008). We talked a lot about our vulnerabilities and weaknesses and were comforted with 2 Corinthians 12: 9&10 and the permission, rather the charge to be secure in what God can do.

Despite how I feel or what is going on, what is being shared or not; God is good, all of the time, even in the middle of my ughiest days.

Happy Marker Day

So, today marks some milestones for me. See my cute hubby over there? We've been married for ONE MONTH TODAY! Happy Anniversary honey...


It's also Mother's Day today! This marks noticeable areas of growth for me. This Mother's Day, I saw growth in asking for what I want and having faith that I would receive it. It is truly amazing what God can do with mercy and time. I was reading 1 Peter 2:10 this morning and it spoke to me about how God transforms us. Before Him, my life was marked with a craving to fit in, to belong. Because of my insatiable desire to belong, I looked to many places in and outside of myself...most of which were not good. After Him, it's taken time to see things differently - a lifetime of growth opportunities, but once the choice was made to follow Him, I was enveloped with His mercy. It's totally changed me...even when I did not realize that His mercy was there waiting on me to receive it. This did happen not overnight but over time, through disappointments, from mistakes, after 2nd, 3rd & 4th chances, ended relationships, and even more mistakes - I've survived my to-date growth spurts. All of my experiences have marked opportunities for growth and today I can see how I've grabbed hold tight and am happier with who I am. I've been a mom for almost 9 years and I am a different mom than I was when I first ventured out of the parking lot of St. Mary's Hospital (in Madison) back then. [By the way, I still think it's crazy that they put you in a car on the road with other drivers - after having given birth...BIRTH, two days before - who don't really know you have a new, new life in the car and send you home to "figure it out". I've already put in my vote for bringing back the "Baby on Board" window signs.] That mom was incredibly tired, selfish and controlling. Wait, bad example, I still struggle with those things. But, I have changed. Today, I can see this change being marked in asking for what I want knowing that what I've already received from God in His mercy & grace is plenty, but that I can ask and be faithful and trusting that the people in my life truly want to be a part of my blessings.

This year for Mother's Day (the best ever!), I asked for some girlie/alone time at the mall, flowers, a nap and for a spa like bath in our never before used upstairs bathtub (yuck, it hadn't been cleaned out once since we moved in)...I got all of it.


The waiter dressed up and wore his nametag, "Waiter Dylan". He helped his Dad serve me wine and cake.




Wine, cake, candles...they also brought up the stereo and played one of my current faves ("She's Royal") on repeat. It was so cute to hear their whispers as they got into their plans to make it extra special.




I won't complain about our tub anymore, they transformed it into something extremely magical.


With all of their efforts, I experienced a joyous gratitude for the men in my life. I laughed and teared up while enjoying this spa night. The grin was plastered on as I felt God embrace me with His love, I clapped like a giddy little girl. I received joyfully and that marks it as a special day of growth for me...it just happens to be Mother's Day.

Kingfish Rule!

So, I'm a soccer mom. The one on the left belongs to me. His name is Dylan and he'll turn 9 in little less than a month. It's a strange place to be; Soccer Mom Land. There are uniforms, cleats, shin guards, fees, snacks, schedules, nets, water bottles, balls, practices, games, makeup games, positions, coaches and competition. I know virtually nothing beyond the basics about the sport, but have daydream-esque hopes of him being great at it (like "Pele great" at it), sticking to it through college and possibly even traveling to Europe as a family on an all expense, first class trip to watch him play in THE "football" game of all time, paid for BY him to show us his undying love for all of the sacrifice and support we've offered him over the years. I mean...why else do we do it, right? It's definitely not for the practices that come two times a week or the games on a Saturday morning/afternoon, in this league sometimes a Sunday afternoon, nor the gas money it costs to transport to and from (and these days, that's nothing to sneeze at), nor is it because of the time that cuts into homework, chores and family time. Why am I a loud cheering, no clue about the rules having, soccer mom? Here's why! A peace came to me today while watching my precious boy play soccer. It wasn't because I wanted Dylan to have more play time and he got it. And it certainly wasn't because I wanted him to be have a cool nickname and he earned it just as everyone was watching. It's definitely not because the coaches feel like they couldn't possibly survive a game without him (he spends his fair share of time on the sidelines). Sure, he made great gains from last week: he went from kicking the ball out of bounds everytime he came in contact with it, to consistently kicking to teammates IN BOUNDS (I sense a nickname coming on here...). But even that improvement in my son's performance did not determine the peace in my heart. The peace came in knowing that my son, with God can do anything, and I do believe and mean anything he puts his mind & heart to. Right now, his mind is on having a bit of an afro - influenced by his older stepbrother's current hairdo; and sometimes it's being a solid, patient defender for his soccer team "The Kingfish", and less times than that, it's being a good listener (did I seriously tell him four times in five minutes to pick up those socks????), but when he puts his mind, heart and soul into something that is rooted in God out of joy and a confidence that can only come from our Maker, I see our Lord and King in him and that brings me peace. I can sit in the 40 degree rainy weather with blankets and umbrellas, sipping tea to warm my insides and smile and cheer for this little boy because I know his greatest accomplishments will be connected with love for/from God. Thankfully "Wheels" (pictured above) is a friend whose parents share the same convictions. So though Dylan isn't the star of his soccer team, I have peace as I glimpse what his life has the potential to look like with our King as the coach or the goalie, or whatever the best analogy is for God being the key element!?! So, yes, I'm in the Soccer Mom Club and I have true peace that no matter Dylan's performance on this team that in life, with God as his King, the best is yet to come. Goooo KINGfish!

Relief Day

So, we're back down to one child. There isn't much time to re-acclimate before more requests and life fight to claim the freedom that comes when you don't have even one child. We did it...we made it through the week without hurting one of them or each other - at least not physically. It's a challenge, one that will either bring us closer together or tear us apart. Here it is, "relief day", when I realize that I get a lot more quiet time and I'm rushing to figure out how to make my blog page pretty (suited best to me), get all of the laundry clean, the rooms tidied, the dishes all washed and put away, books read, phone calls of encouragement made and mothers day presents purchased and in one case out in the mail so that it makes to Georgia by tomorrow (did I mention that I haven't yet brushed my teeth or put on "real world" clothes). I have spent quality time with my God though. In 1 Peter 2:9, He reminds me of who I am and more importantly who HE is. As a member of a chosen, royal and holy family, lead and directed by His perfect love, I can do all I need to by being confident in this truth. "Relief day" began as it should have, all others - husband off to work and kids out the door to their respective schools (3) with backpacks in tow and then me; me and God talking and sipping coffee connecting as if nothing else mattered. Nevermind I've been building up a surprise date for my husband for a month or two and that I haven't even secured tickets to the venue (it's TONIGHT!) or that I don't know what our mothers would most be encouraged by from the mall right down the road - the only stop I'm making today in search of their presents...it's RELIEF day! I'm relieved because I can see that the ride of life that I'm on will mostly take sudden turns and jerks and sometimes veer completely off of the anticipated road but, it will come to a calm every now again. And for me, that's relief.