Tiny Pockets of Time

There are many instances when I'm able to quiet the voice(s) in my head and truly appreciate little moments as they happen. The endless list of things I need to do, get done, plan ahead for - disappear - because a moment like this occurs and I realize I've actually taken a deep breath and am so thankful for my life, for my children, for my hubby, for friends and family.

It can be the unexpected, most amazing hug from my son that lets me know that, in fact, my little boy still IS inside the continually hungry and getting taller every day body.

It is hubby telling me he thinks I am a strong and amazing "wife". (I'll explain the quotation marks in another post!)

It is the toddler telling us very seriously that she is going to buy her ding-dong house at Walmart with her monies. (Definition: Ding-dong house refers to the overpriced Fisher Price plastic playhouse made for kids. It comes with a working doorbell. We are currently searching out a large cardboard box and will stick a wireless doorbell to it...et voila! A ding-dong house that didn't just cost a couple of months' worth of truck payments! It's called innovating.)

It is a moment like this I was able to capture when baby fell asleep in her swing. Here comes that deep breathing again...

My Daddy

This is my father, relaxing at our cottage, smiling at his grandchildren.

My son thinks it's pretty funny that I still call him "Daddy" at my age. Hang on a sec while I grab my cane...

As a little girl, my father was always pretty high up on the pedestal - and even though now as an adult the pedestal isn't quite so high because I understand that he is not just a dad, but a husband, grandfather and man, it doesn't take much for me to see the halo around his head.

Quelle Surprise...

This has been a very unexpected development in our lives, and I will write more soon about the highs and lows of what I've been going through with this knock-me-on-my-ass-what-the-FUCK situation.

In the meantime, pass the damn hot sauce already...Mummy's got a craving!

It Ain't Over Till the Fat Lady Sings

Christmas is over for another year.

Santa Claus came to our house and the kids were beside themselves with happiness over the haul they received. Amazing how much great stuff one can find when you agree that spending $150 on each child is MORE THAN ENOUGH. Sticking to a set budget forces you to actually take a moment and think through the items normally being tossed willy-nilly into the Walmart shopping cart.

I truly don't understand parents who spend thousands of dollars on their kids, when they should be spending that money on themselves....I mean, seriously, get your priorities straight! Depending on the age, give a kid a cardboard box and tell them it's a house or a baby crib, and you've got hours of entertainment right there and you haven't spent a dime.

We've had loads of family and friends over for visits, for eating, for drinking, for laughing, for sharing. If you do the math, there was one dog in this house last night, 6 adults, NINE children (and that isn't counting my brother & sis-in-law's two kids) and it's easy to figure out why Auntie Helley (that's my nick-name with a few of my nieces and nephews) was hoarsely screeching to please keep it down, because she's got a massive headache from combination nasty head-cold (shout-out to Nanny Lee who is on her vacation from working in Kandahar, Afghanistan and brought it with her!), sugar overload (cinnamon buns, fudge, and sister Bebe's lemon squares, OH MY), and alcohol poisoning (just how much vodka really is too much?).

It's been a blast, but I'm tired-er than I ever thought possible. And now I'm about to go make chili for this afternoon's get-together with the fire department and families.

"Dear Santa,
Next year for Christmas, could you please bring me a King-Kong size container of Advil Liqui-Gels? It would be ever so much appreciated if you'd include that with the large bottle of Grey Goose vodka..."

Oh, and did I mention the PMS over the last few days? Ahh....good times.

Joy

This is my little sister at her recent wedding.

This is my new brother-in-law.

They are very happy together.

And don't they look fantastic all gussied up like that? You'd never know from looking at the picture but it was freezing out there. Almost minus-20-degree weather kind of cold.

Personally, I never cry at weddings. I'm cold like the weather that way, I guess. I've attended many through the years and I'd see other women with tears in their eyes or openly bawling and think, "Come ON. Get a grip. It's only a freakin' wedding. I mean, seriously, what's the big DEAL?"

And then I watched as my niece and nephews walked their mommy down the aisle towards her husband-to-be, who stood waiting, tall and proud, with his two children at the front of the chapel. I saw the look of complete happiness and joy on their faces and finally got it. I cried. Actually cried the kind of cry that brings a huge lump to your throat, the sort of emotional lump you think you might actually choke on. When the service was finished the room was filled with absolute joy and love and peace and rightness that these two found one another.

And this little moment right here? This is what happiness looks like, all wrapped up with a beautiful white bow.