Boston.

Here's the thing about the running community: It's 100% a tribe... And you don't even have to be a fast, elite athlete to be in it. Heck, you don't even have to lace up or train. It can be as simple as volunteering to pass out t-shirts at registration, or waking up early to hold a sign and holler "GO FAST, MAMA!" to be in it. The running tribe is made up of runners and spectators, volunteers, spouses and offspring, parents and friends, police, medics etc. Every person counts. Every person is necessary in making it happen.  If you have a heart full of love and joy beating in your chest, you're in! It's true.

Which is why we are all hurting so bad. Which is why I can say for certain that the evil that did this today was no part of our tribe. We know how hard those runners trained and sacrificed to EVEN QUALIFY to participate. We know that, at mile 26, they were so close to a dream fulfilled. We know HOW LOUD and EXCITED and JOYFULLY those spectators and volunteers were cheering. And we are devastated that someone so cruel could rob countless racers of the dream of those coveted finishers medals, far too many people of their limbs, three families of precious loved ones. Someone could dare rob OUR TRIBE of those three important members.

Oh Boston.

Proud.

I am a proud mama.  My boys are the light of my life. They make my heart explode about a million times a day for a million different reasons. I will give a brief run-down of their personalities: Both boys are happy, smart, sweet, funny, loving and stubborn in their own ways. They are very similar in most ways but differ in a few key traits. Declan had colic and didn't sleep through the night until he was 11 months old. Aengus, on the other hand, barely made a peep and was sleeping through the night before 4 months old. Aengus is laid-back (possibly the side effect of being born second) and very cautious while Declan has no in-born sense of self-preservation and, well, he's my spicy fella. 

Declan has had a rough week. It's likely due to his staunch refusal to nap (Oh, only since he was 18 months old. We tried to force it about once every 3-6 months for a while, but usually those 20 minute power naps ended in major mischief of epic proportions. Imagine what would happen if you were to leave a billy goat/raccoon/honey badger-hybrid in a toddler's room for 20 minutes)  despite waking up earlier and earlier. So,  yeah, some major melt-downs and hot toddler tantrum action have been reported this week. He had to go to the preschool principal's office both days. :(

He's also been in full-tilt danger-tot mode. Evel Knievel's got NOTHING on this boy. I'm guessing he's averaged a concussion a day. 

He's been a hand full of dynamite this week but still... he tries so hard to be a good boy. He hugs fiercely, he smooches freely, he readily apologizes and he still makes me proud a hundred times a day for a hundred different reasons.  I will say in no uncertain terms that never before have any of those reasons ever been based on his behavior in a restaurant... until tonight. 

So, yes, I am bragging on my amazing, fearless kid despite all the time-outs and trouble! We decided to take the boys out to dinner at a restaurant we've never been to as a family. It was a yummy Thai restaurant. Declan sat down, spoke politely to the server, didn't wander all over the establishment or make a big scene. He didn't yell or get mad. When the food was brought, he ate EVERY bite we put on his plate. He tried everything (and we didn't play it safe, folks) and even asked for seconds. 

He. Was. Awesome! 

I am so proud of my little foodie and I am thrilled we were able to end a bumpy week on such a positive note! 

Three cheers for Declan!

 Hip! Hip! HOORAY!

Failing at Lent.

You guys... It's just not going to happen. Forgive me. We had a few really great first few days of Lenten photos, but it really was too ambitious.

L.P.D.C. "Settle"

L.P.D.C.

The prompt today is "Settle"

The boys were restless little souls today. 

It took forever for them to wind down and rest their little bones this evening. 

I initially thought I would end up taking a photo of our little funny pug, Stella, nestled in Aengus' chair. She's the queen of "Settle" as she could find a nest anywhere. 

That's not what happened. 

This is what I found with my camera and my flash about 20 minutes after the bedtime wailing and gnashing of teeth subsided. 

So. Much. Drama. 

Sometimes, it's two sides of the coin. Nothing profound tonight. Sleep tight!

L.P.D.C. "injustice"

Lenten Photo of the Day Challenge

The prompt for the day is "Injustice"

Of course I should be out on the street looking for injustice , but one could turn on any news channel and see hundreds of examples of injustice in the world at large. As much as it pains me to admit, there are examples of injustice in my very own home. 

This is my beautiful first born, Declan. 

He is an amazing kid!

 He is full of energy and strong as an ox.

HE NEVER SITS STILL. EVER.

 He is curious and incredibly kind. 

He is strong-willed and stubborn. 

As a mother who has struggled with Attention Deficit issues my entire life, I recognize too many of these traits that my genetic code has passed on to him. 

I feel like I have failed him simply by passing these difficulties on to him. 

I fear that I don't have what it takes to mother him the way he needs to be mothered. 

Children with A.D.H.D. need consistent boundaries. They need gentle discipline. 

I feel like all I ever do is put him in time out. 

I feel like I scold too much or too harshly. 

I pray daily for patience it takes to repeat myself over and over again without getting testy. I pray for the wisdom in finding the ability to strike the right balance between giving him the discipline he needs and the celebration of his unique and wonderful gifts of spirit. 

I don't ever want him to feel like a bad kid, because he's not a bad kid. He's an awesome kid. 

I don't want him to lose his glorious smile

But for all the prayers, I still feel completely inadequate when it comes to being his mother. 

He was born first to a mom who has no idea what she's doing.

He was born on the cusp of August and September so he can either be the youngest kid in class or the oldest.

He was an only child for such a brief moment. 

The world is not fair but we have to do our best to be as fair as possible. 

Please pray with me that I can be the kind of mom he needs. 

L.P.D.C. "See"

Lenten Photo of the day challenge

The prompt today was "See"

**Spoiler alert**

 My family is my whole wide world so pretty much all of the pictures I post are going to be of them. If you do not enjoy pictures of the world's greatest dogs, impossibly beautiful children and a breathtakingly handsome husband/father then you better lurk someone else's blog. 

This is Aengus. He's my youngest heartthrob. Here he was playing in a blackout tent and peeked out to say "Faprise!" 

I see a bright light in a dark place when I look at this picture. 

This is my Aengus.

L.P.D.C. "Return"

http://rethinkchurch.org/article/lenten-photo-day-challenge

Today's photo prompt was "Return"

I have two photos from today and they are both of the same subject.

Both I find to be visually interesting images as well as fitting. 

Is there any coincidence that "Dog" is "GOD" spelled backwards?

What if we remembered that a dog's faithful love is the way God loves us broken down into small enough pieces for our feeble human minds to understand? 

Faithful.

Devoted.

Forgiving.

Unconditional. 

(even when we skip a walk or are too slow filling up the water)

So incredibly happy to see us return. 

L.P.D.C. "Who am I?"

http://rethinkchurch.org/article/lenten-photo-day-challenge

My dear friend, Erica, encouraged me on facebook to participate in a photo-of-the-day Lenten challenge. I decided to go for it. The link above will explain. So I thought I'd post them here with just a few words. If this is too introspective, please forgive me. I try not to do too much navel-gazing or philosophize too much here but Lent is a time of renewal... so I'm doing it.

The first day's prompt is "Who am I?"

"Who am I?"

I was known in my family/circle/pool-that-i-lifeguarded-at for always having my toes done. It's my thing. The pedi has always got to be fresh. I've had a foot obsession all of my life (as my parents will attest). Currently my toes are painted in a sandy textured purple glitter polish. No one in my current/recent life knows this about me unless they've seen me in sandals.

Maybe it's because I'm a mom or maybe it's because I'm a wife. Maybe it's because I no longer work  for a paycheck. Maybe it's because I am recovering from a bout with the flu and household stress has been weighing pretty heavy on me... or maybe it's because I've washed and folded and put away what feels like a dozen loads of laundry over the past 2 days... but some days I feel like I've lost myself. Like "Katy: The individual" is taking a backseat to a mountain of laundry. 

I initially took a photo of two little backpacks. 

I had just filled them. "Who am I? I'm a mom, I guess. " I thought.

Up to the point where I picked up my camera to take this shot last minute, I had just spent every second of  today being "Mama". I took one potty, carried the other downstairs, made little breakfasts, changed a diaper, put little shirts and pants and socks on little bodies, smooched little faces, wiped little noses, folded and hung up more little clothes than you could shake a stick at,broke up a fight then it was time  to make lunch...I could go on but I won't because I think you probably get the idea.  I didn't have time to drink water.  I was non-stop moving.

"So maybe I should take a picture of the backpacks I just filled" I thought.

And then I looked down...

I saw my purple glitter toes looking up at me from the kitchen floor I've walked across hundreds of times today alone... Kissing "bonked noggs", giving lots of hugs, making little tiny peace treaties with my little tiny humans that God blessed me with. 

This is my life.

But there they were. 

Staring back at me. The last vestige of my individual self.

In the picture they look far away and distant... You can't tell that they have glitter. You can't really even distinguish if they're even purple at all. 

That's Ok. 

I've always loved "making the ouchies go away" and cooking nourishing food for people that I love and hugging little tiny humans... The nature to nuture has always been a part of me, this wife-mama aspect. But Wife-Mama took a backseat while Purple Sparkly Toes did her thing. Now it's Purple Sparkly Toes turn to sit back. This is not her time to shine. 

This is Wife-Mama's season. (Purple Sparkly Toes is still there, though.)

Romans 12:15

Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep. 

There is not a single parent or teacher in this country unable to feel the same aching pit of grief deep in the gut that I've had since hearing the news on Friday. Most of us have no connection to anyone in Newtown, Ct but it doesn't matter. Those twenty little faces may have just as well been in our scout troop or on our swim team or running past us in the church hall. Those teachers are the same teachers we bravely (but confidently) trust our most precious treasures to at the beginning of every school year (and rightfully so. They EACH gave their life attempting to protect their little students).

This feels local.

And it should. 

It should feel personal. 

Because it could happen anywhere. Be it in an Amish school house or at the local elementary school two blocks away. 

Right now 26 families are planning funerals.

20 families are trying to decide what to do with the Christmas gifts that their 6 and 7 year olds will never open. 

With the beds that didn't get made friday morning.

 With a laundry basket full of size 6x play clothes. 

How to remind the baby of the big brother she'll barely remember in 3 years time but won't stop asking for now. 

Some people have said that it's because we kicked God out of schools. As if God would EVER abandon these little ones. As if GOD caused or willed this evil act to happen. 

Not MY God.

 My God is a loving God. 

He instilled the bravery in these courageous teachers. He erased the fear these children surely must have felt. He HOLDS THESE FAMILIES CLOSE.
He lost a Son as well. 

It's personal for God too. 

Please join me in continuing to pray for our teachers, our students, our schools, our Country and our law makers. Please pray that Mental Health Care becomes more easily accessible than the weapon used to ruin 26 families. Please pray for safety in our schools.
Please pray for these forever changed families that they find peace.

This boy...

Turned 3 last week.

My sweet, beautiful Declan has grown up so much this last year. He LOVES rocket ships, bubbles, books, firetrucks and "playing guys"(This is like playing cars or trucks but with good guys/bad guys action figures but in Declan world they all are friends and practice manners ... "Oh NO, Pider man, are You ok?" "Yeah, Gween Gwobin, I OK!")  and he LOVES being a big brother. He listens and minds his mama 95% of the time and he's such a loving guy! He is quick with a laugh and a universe-brightening smile!

Benjamin Declan England, you are such a brilliant ball of joy! You make me so incredibly proud to be your mama EVERY SINGLE DAY! I hope you never lose your exuberant belly laugh, your intense curiosity and that beautifully kind heart (just like your daddy!). You make up for a hundred bad guys, Declan England, and the world is so much better as long as your little feet are walking on it!

Hot, Cranky and Annoyed.

It has been hot here. I mean really hot. We just moved into our new house and within days, the AC went out and then temperatures soared into the high 90's and low 100's. What. The. CRAP! 

Holy Redheaded-baby- in-the-Shade, Batman. 

We tried hard to find ways to keep the boys entertained AND ALSO beat the heat. Our biggest wins were the water table...

and the sprinkler...

I should also mention that the boys have recently decided to take their brotherly-loving relationship to the next level...

With noogies...

Choke holds, wailing...

Eye pokes...

and whining to try and deflect the trouble and make one's self look totally innocent. 

Good times. 

It's completely not given me a headache in the least bit... 

Oh wait, No, it has.

And if one more person tells me that I have my "Hands full" I may actually cry. 

(I hear that phrase at least 5 times an hour if I have both the boys together )

I don't think people realize how insulting it is when they say that to a mother brave enough to take her two wild, but very loved and treasured babies out to target (or the grocery store or to just run errands because how else are these things going to get done???). 

I really feel good about myself and capable (and maybe even a little bit like I can actually handle it) when I've got Aengus on my hip and Declan by the hand... 

but then some well-meaning member of the peanut gallery shatters that with a thoughtless figure of speech and I am crushed.

All I can think is "What a mess I must look like..."

 It's never from people who know what it's like to have babies back to back (or even multiples). 

Those people are the ones that end up making my day with their comments of 

"It will get better, Dear."

 and

 "Do your best to enjoy it because it goes by much too fast"

or

 "You are doing SUCH a great job." 

In order to avoid ending this blog on a grumpy note, I'm going to post pictures from Father's day weekend of some of my favorite, heart-exploding images of AWESOMENESS...

Baby Cousin Automotive repair...

"I'm just gonna poke this dot right here, Britton, let's see if that does the trick..."
"That's smart thinking, Aengus. It'll probably work..."

"Success!!!"

Awesome, slightly older boy cousins who know how to have a great time on a leaf-covered trampoline

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery...

My whole wide world on a picnic table bench...

Happy July!

Dear Aengus...

Dear Sweet Aengus,

          June 1st was your due date. Can you imagine how incredibly large you would have been had you baked another 3 weeks? Holy smokes. I'm still stunned. I know I should have written this post to/for/about you when you turned one on May 11th. Please know that I was really just waiting on the family party so that I could post pictures of you with your big boy cupcake. It had nothing to do with putting in an offer on a house on your actual birthday. I swear. It also had nothing to do with procrastinating due to the fact that I just can't bear to wrap my mind around how it's already been over an entire year since you looked like this:

I can't swear to that one, though. 

I really cannot believe it's only been a year since you were born. Reflecting on the experience of when you and I shared a body and then when you were born, what sticks out in my mind the most about that time is how palpable the feeling of falling in love with you was. And how immediate. 

Maybe it's because you had been through so much with me already by the time you were born. You were the promise of light during a very dark time in my life. I was so miserable and depressed in Lynchburg but then there was you. The promise of you reached a place inside of me that even your darling brother and your amazing father couldn't touch. You were on your way through the entire time and the hope of meeting you was what pulled me through.

 And then, suddenly, there you were, Precious Boy, and I couldn't smell your perfect scent or let any part of my body graze your perfect skin without instantly falling asleep in a dizzying, oxytocin-induced haze. You made it all better, Aengus. You lifted my depression and made my whole world bright again.

And all it took was your smile. 

I cannot believe how seamlessly you fit into our family. How lucky we are that we got yet another happy baby (Two in a row?!? WOW!!!) and how much you've changed in just a year's time. You've gone from a roly-poly punkin' head...

To a lanky, leggy wild boy in the blink of an eye. 

All the while, doling out the sunshine wherever you go.

Aengus, I am so incredibly proud of how you talk and play and climb. How you roll with the punches...

But take every bit of it in stride...

You do everything your own way and in your own time...

And your smile brightens our world, beautiful boy!

Thank you for giving me a year that was so amazing that I wish I could rewind and live it all over again. 

Happy First Birthday, Aengus!

May you have a hundred more!

A.D.H.D. melt-down.

The past 2 and a half weeks have looked like this:

My Mama (Or "Gramma" as she's known around these parts) had a non-life-threatening medical emergency that required emergency surgery and a brief medical suspension of driving privileges.

My Daddy (A.K.A. "Grandaddy") then followed that up with a non-life-threatening medical emergency and a brief medical suspension of driving privileges of his own.

Got my hair did. And dyed some of it pink. It's cute and I don't have a boss to dictate inappropriate so party on, Wayne. 

Easter (Holy Salvation, Batman...And too much candy.)

A plane ride to Buffalo by myself. Oh wait... Did I just say "By Myself"? I had both children with me. (Ben stayed home because he had to work)

 Neither child has hit the ripe old age of 3 yet.

Full flights. Most definitely not alone. 

Seven nights of sharing a bedroom with both of my sons.

And of not playing footsie with my sweet husband. 

Return flight back to Tennessee with both boys in tow.
(I threatened to leave the big one a time or two) 

567 images uploaded from camera onto computer.

CRAAAAP! 

Now I have to delete and edit.

**Overwhelmed and shuts down**

In case you've ever wondered...

Here's what I look like. 

I think it's very telling that I'm out of focus in this photo.

Have a nice day. 

The illusion of perfect mothering...

Someone called me "such a good mother" today.... I KNOW, Right? Obviously, she missed the blog about Aengus rolling off the changing table. I looked behind me to see if there was another, more put-together woman with a well-behaved child standing behind me in line because MY SON (the one in the dirty t-shirt and the animal-cracker-crumb fu manchu ) had just butt-shoved the lady in front of us in line. He then proceeded to roll around on the floor of T.J. Maxx(which he calls "Mama Mac!"because... gosh, I dunno. Maybe he thinks she'd like it.)  in an attempt to lather up his total rage and frustration at HAVING LIFE SO INCREDIBLY EASY into a full-tilt, multi-octave tantrum. She could not have possibly meant me. But she did.

I apologized to her friend and then I stopped the tantrum by encouraging him to sing a theme song to a TV show (one of many) he watches ALL THE TIME. It worked... and then he got a book as a treat.

And then I had to muscle him back into his carseat while he bucked and hollered.

And I potty trained him using candy and toys and bribery.

And sometimes we eat lunch in front of the t.v.

Also, my son knows a lyric to "I'm sexy and I know it..." (blame his uncles and his father for that one).

My point is this... I'm not perfect. I'm ridiculous. I'm not even that great of a mother. I'm doing the best I can. Sometimes I cuss. Frequently, I loose my patience with the boys and yell about 100% more than I need to out of sheer frustration. I'm trying every day to improve but the truth is that I was a waaaaay better parent before I had actual human children.

I want to be a great mom.

 A mom with well-behaved children.

A mom who doesn't raise her voice.

 A mom that has it all together.

I I know my blog is typically happy and my pictures are bright and vivid but I've got a very long way to go. Don't believe me? Look closer...

This baby is FILTHY! 

(and happy. Good enough. )

Aunt Susan.

"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body."~C.S. Lewis.

Our Aunt Susan* is dying. Our sweet, beautiful, humble, generous, amazing, epitome-of-a-servant's-heart Aunt Susan is dying. While this is not unexpected as her body has been fighting a very long and very hard battle for years, it is a most devastating loss. Not devastating because her great suffering is almost over but for the simple reason that  Sweet Susan's battle is so incredibly, heartbreakingly unfair.

 Susan has devoted her ENTIRE life to her family. She birthed and raised four of the finest, most brilliantly kind, compassionate and loving human beings to ever walk on this planet. Her marriage to her equally wonderful and equally devoted husband, Don, has been a shining example of what a loving marriage looks like. She never misses an opportunity to tell the ones she loves how much she loves them and still... she has suffered so much more than any one person should ever have to.

I hate cancer. HATE. I hate that it can strike someone barely months old. How it can force a mother to watch helplessly as the sweet, happy baby she grew in her very own womb can be snatched from her loving arms and robbed of a future. How it took away the opportunity to dance with my grandaddy at my wedding. How it can grow silently for years and then,by the time it is discovered, it is often too late. How it can take away someone who puts so much more than her fair share of goodness into this world and someone who is so incredibly loved. Someone that radiates such amazing, unadulterated joy into this universe.

It. Isn't. Fair.

Here's what I know, though. I KNOW there is a loving God. A God who watched His Son suffer miserably and unfairly and watched, helplessly as His VERY OWN SON died. A God who understands the pain our family is reeling from much better than anyone could ever begin to express. A God that has a perfect plan. A God that will welcome His humble servant, Susan, into His kingdom with open arms. It's just her body that is dying. Her soul will never, ever, ever die. We WILL see her again.

Thank You, God, for giving us Susan.

*I should point out here that I'm calling my mother-in-law's sister, OUR aunt even though she's only technically been MY aunt for about 4 years. Still. She told me every chance she could how much she loved me. And guess what? I LOVE HER. Seriously. Like she's actually my honest-to-God-blood-related-AUNT. Its probably exactly how anyone who has ever met that woman feels about her, though.

Monkey Business

This week has been a hum...

DINGER!

Allow me to begin with the ER trip on Monday. Ye Olde 10 month old took a tumble and "bonked uh nog!" as the toddler fella would say and had some brief neuro changes. It was all my fault (*beats breast, shouts "Mea CULPA!") . I normally keep one hand on him at all times when he's on the changing table but was trying to shove a particularly bulky diaper into the pail and took my hand off for a brief second when he crashed. Oh, the guilt! Long and expensive story made short, no skull fracture, no bleeds. To quote the ER Doc, "He just got his bell rung pretty good". Ugh. I want to throw up just thinking about it. 

Now, fast forward to Friday night... I am most exhausted from the wild week(where everybody under 3 cried in unison for no discernible reason ALL WEEK LONG) but Ben and I swear to each other that come hell or high water, we WILL do our p90x workout. We feed, bathe and put the wild boys to bed. Aengus wakes up and I nurse him a little longer while Ben runs downstairs to set up the dvd. I put Aengus to bed and then run downstairs to workout. Ben stops 

me at the foot of the stairs and says "Katy, we've got a BIG problem." and all I can think of was "Oh CRAP! Did Declan throw a weight through the tv again?!?"  

Shame on Mama. He wouldn't dare!

... And then I smelled it. 

Apparently there was a blockage somewhere in the plumbing and raw sewage backed up into the downstairs bathroom... and bedroom... and into the drywall. You see where this is going? It's bad. Thankfully, we are renting so our landlords are handling it. Sadly, we are friends with our landlords so we feel extra terrible that this happened while we were living here. It ruined an old mattress of ours but that mattress needed replacing anyway. This house is having to have carpet, baseboards, drywall and a vanity removed. 

This whole mess has made Ben extra nervous about buying a house sometime in the not so distant future. He's rented his entire adult life except the first 2 years of our marriage when we paid a mortgage on the house I bought before I met him. I HATE renting, though. It makes me all hive-y and itchy. All I can hear is my dad's voice saying "You're throwing money down the drain when you rent!" every time I write the rent check. I miss being a homeowner and feeling invested in where I live. I miss having a garden and planting perennials (which get bigger and better every year!). I miss diy home improvement and painting a  back bedroom just the right shade of green to make someone I love feel content and welcome when they're in it. But mostly, it's the garden. 

I am my father's daughter and it is NEVER more apparent than during Lent when I peruse greenhouses and seed catalogs daydreaming of summer's vivid bounty. I scoop up seedlings and packets of zinnias and get all fired up about Good Friday (That's the day you're supposed to put out your garden, don't you know!). I stick my nose in a potted rose bush and wonder about whether or not the blooms were fragrant enough to waft into the house if I planted her beneath an open window. 

Last year we lived in a town home with no outdoor greenspace so in terms of Spring planting, it was a bust. This year we have a deck and a big yard and I'm getting the boys in on the action...

I think it's a winner.