…for the ‘grateful’ posts that were plentiful last week but I’m doing it anyway because I am struck with a grateful heart for this man:

I’m grateful that he has been flexible and understanding and ever-so-patient with my crazy schedule as of late.  He has picked up duties while I ran back and forth from the hospital for 3 weeks.  He has smiled while visiting my mom in the hospital even when I knew he was dog tired and not feeling well himself.  He willingly accompanied me in 30 degree weather last night to decorate her apartment for Christmas and this morning, when we brought her home, he patiently sat in a chair while I unpacked her, made sure she was completely comfortable being alone and made a grocery list with her.  He has been a gem.  He hasn’t, not one time, made me feel like the extra duties were a burden and has kept me calm and happy and laughing when I easily could have been stressed and crying.  So a late Thanksgiving post or just a happy heart for having chosen well when I chose my partner in life?  I’ll let you decide.

…Kati’s ponies.  They’re back.  I enjoyed the evolution of her hair this past year but I must say, I missed the ponies and now they’re back and they’re oh-so-sweet.  Remember this:

She used to love it when I would take the time to curl all her hair so I was very surprised when she actually went through with cutting it all to donate to Locks of Love.  It was adorable short though and we’ve really enjoyed the change of pace this past year.

But I’ve got to admit, as cute as it has been and as much as I love it on her, the ponies are way too cute and stopped Tim in his tracks when he came home from work that night.

…of Thanksgiving this year.  Kaitlynn and I spent an afternoon late in August cutting out triangles, punching leaves and stringing things.  It was to make this lovely garland that is hanging in our family room.

There is a triangle for every day in the month of November leading up to Thanksgiving.  It looks pretty plain, right?  Not anymore, right now, it’s half-way filled:

Yep, the third triangle from the right just got added to last night.  Every night at dinner we discuss what we are grateful for.  It can be about the day, life, anything you feel grateful for.  Then we vote on what to write on a slightly smaller triangle that will be added to the garland.  Sometimes someone feels very strongly about something and we don’t vote, they just get to put their thing up, like the time Alden didn’t wait for dinner and he went and wrote “My Mom” on a triangle.  I wasn’t going to argue with that.   I also didn’t argue when yesterday’s was written by my husband, “Every minute of every day of the last 15 years.”  It was our anniversary.  Some have been less meaningful though.  Like the day Tim caulked our master bathroom after several requests to do so.

It’s been a good thing for our family and I highly recommend it to anyone who is wanting to slow down, look at the half full glass and enjoy what they’ve been given.

…tree in the world. It isn’t big.  It isn’t old.  But it’s the best tree in the world.  It is in my front yard.  We have the same type in the backyard too and while it’s beautiful as well, this is the best tree in the world.  It is seen from my scrapbook room and when you’re in Powell’s room all  you see is the puff of white, green or red depending on the time of year.  It’s a dogwood tree.  It’s the type of tree they say Jesus was hung on.  What makes it so amazing is that it changes so vibrantly.  Here it is in the Spring when it is first coming to life after a long, cold winter:

From buds to blooms…

I’m not so sure this picture does it justice as to how white it becomes.  It is a literal puff of white.  Here is the row of trees right when you round our corner heading to my dad’s house:

It’s just beautiful.  When you look closely at the white leaves they have a small red cross on them.  They spend most of the summer as green as the grass.  It’s hard to believe something so white can turn into something so green.  But then, in the fall, you can’t believe it can turn so RED.  I should have taken the picture about a week ago but I kept walking by it and not following through (something about so much to do lately that I can’t keep a thought in my head longer than 30 seconds).

What else do you know of that changes with such ease and such grace on a yearly basis?  It makes me think that as people we should strive for the same; not that we want to change everything about ourselves on a yearly basis but that we can embrace the change with grace and ease.  That we don’t fight what is inevitable and we don’t press against whatever it is God is wanting to do in our lives.  That is why I think it’s the best tree in the world.

….this is a predicion of the future (yes, I know she isn’t centered in the photo but when I cropped it for some reason I just couldn’t bring myself to crop Kodiak out..somehow, it’s part of the story):

And let’s hope this is not a prediction of the future (even though he’s still so darn cute I can hardly stand it):

(I am not ignoring my oldest child by omitting a photo of him.  He was not home this weekend.  He was in Missouri camping for 4 days and I missed the snot out of him but since his pneumonia had cleared I had no good reason to tell him he couldn’t go.)

….not so much:

Here’s a bit of advice.  When you’re sitting down for a coveted few moments of quiet, you’re settled in comfortably under a soft blanket, the lighting is just right and you’re getting ready to start some hand sewing and your daughter comes in and asks for a project, DON’T BELIEVE THE PACKAGE.

It’s a marketing ploy people, I tell you, a marketing ploy thought up by power business people who don’t spend any time with 6 year olds.  The manufacturers concoct these little kits and we buy them thinking our children will have so much fun.  We look at the age recommendation and notice our child is a good 3 years older than the package indicates and decide it’s a good purchase.  Then the moment arrives.  The moment when it’s opened and you’re dying for it to be as simple as it’s proported to be.  Nope.  You then spend the coveted time reading directions, threading yarn and explaining each step in detail (of course this is after you’ve already completed step one because it’s entirely too difficult for any 9 year old let alone a 6 year old).   So there it is.  My two cents for the day.  Don’t believe the packaging.

In all fairness though, now that the project is complete and hanging from her bedpost it does look quite cute and she is quite proud and it was something we did together….that is the upside of deceptive marketing.

…of mothers everywhere.

Last Monday was Crazy Hair Day at A and K’s school.  I didn’t think much of it.  Just tried to do something silly with her hair (Alden’s hair is buzzed so there isn’t much to do there), get it to stay and then get to school on time.  But when I dropped them off I was amazed.  There were simple ‘dos, complicated ‘dos and ‘dos that made you take a second look.  I instantly thought of all the mothers who woke up extra early, made it a priority to do their child’s hair and did the best they could.  I was proud to be a mother in that moment.  Proud that we work so hard to engage our children in silly things like Crazy Hair Day.  Really, it’s not about the crazy hair.  It’s about giving them a piece of ourselves, giving them our attention and letting them know that if it’s important to them, it’s important to us.  Maybe it sounds silly but looking around that parking lot, I was really touched.  

…pneumonia.  I wish I could say it was nice to see you again but alas, it is not.  I hate the way you make people feel.  I hate that you cause persistent fevers and dry hacks and drain every ounce of energy a body has.  When you visited me for an extended stay oh so many years ago I could deal with you, I was a young adult and I knew how to swallow pills.  But this time you haven’t played fair.  You’ve taken up residence in the chest of my boy…my boy who hasn’t swallowed a pill thus far in his life.  I really do hate you.

Hello friends… I had a lovely post forming in my head of scrapping this weekend (first time in 4 months), homemade chicken noodle soup, rock climbing, boiled peanuts and such.  I had pictures.  But now I sit here feeling not at all creative and have only one thing on my heart to say: please pray for my boy.  My sweet, 13-year old Powell who has been in bed for 6 days with a fever.  A trip to the doctor, two shots and a Z-pack later we are home and nursing what has been confirmed as pneumonia.  I know he’ll be fine but he is feeling awfully pueney and hates swallowing the pills.

Hello self…don’t forget to breathe.  Don’t let this set you back as you’ve made strides in organization and relaxation recently.  Remember to be creative, slow down and enjoy.  All work and no play make one frustrated girl.  Your boy will feel better, the holidays are on their way and the very cold air outside means warm drinks in the morning and cozy blankets at night; something to look forward to for sure.

Yours sincerly,

Jill

….still here.  I think about blogging, I do it in my head, I just don’t sit and actually do it.  I think it’s something about typing for a living that makes me want to bolt from the chair and keyboard as soon as I can. 

But alas, here I am.  I had to document this.  I had to say somehow, we were there, we were at yet another Light the Night walk and yet again I was moved, I was grateful and I was in awe.  I think it’s the biggest one we’ve ever attended.  It went through the streets of downtown Nashville.  It started at LP field, went over the bridge, along the river, past Hard Rock Cafe, past BB King’s and back into LP Field.  At several points I turned around and looked and as far as the eye could see was a sea of lit balloons.  With my poor photography skills I couldn’t quite capture it but I tried….

It was a literal sea of balloons and people.  I heard 2000-2500 attended.  WOW.  That’s a lot of money raised for a great cause.  As we walked, I was so grateful that I was carrying a red balloon as a supporter and not a gold balloon in memory of.  I was grateful each time I saw a gold balloon and I squeezed Tim’s hand a little tighter.  Here is our family, represented Light the Night style:

And here is my Superman.  I can’t believe all he has endured.  But I think the look on his face says it all: he’s happy to be here.

During the walk you can’t help but think back on everything, the details that your mind doesn’t go to very often because you move on, you heal in more ways than one and life shifts into other things that take up your mental energy.  But at one point, Powell came up and slipped his hand in mine.  He’s 13 now and I think he is starting to piece it all together.  He said, “Mom, we did it.  We helped Dad.  It was just the 3 of us when we found out he was sick.”  And so it was.  It was me, my sweet husband and my 9 month old baby.  I think that 9 month old baby is what made Tim and I fight so hard to keep it all together.

On a lighter note, K had a good time too.  The Titans Cheerleaders were there.  (Really, her brothers wanted to be IN the picture, not taking the picture, but they had to play it cool.)

And finally a little something when I looked up at the night sky.  I just thought it was cool.  X marks the spot.

…heart hurt. 

They look at me and I realize they haven’t changed a bit since the day he was born.  Their long lashes framing his entire eye, their droopy little sides that make them slightly puppy-ish, the way they sparkle.  They just make my heart hurt with love for this boy.