I used to think that I could only feel one way at a time. As I've grown into a mature (using that term loosely) adult, I know that I am capable of feeling all things at one time. For someone like me, that can be completely disastrous. I'm not much of a multitask-er. My children will be happy to tell you this. Therefore, I can only imagine that I'm not much of a multifeel-er either. (New word...just go with it.)
As I reflect on the changes that have been made in our lives over the last year, I am surprised at how many times I've been able to multi-feel. With the recent tragedy in Las Vegas, I am overwhelmed with sadness. It takes me back to September 11th, 2001. I realize these are two totally different events in our history, but they both took a toll on my emotional well being and we all know why.
On September 11th, 2001, I was scheduled to have my second sonogram with Tanner B. (our sweet middle). It was around the time of the second tower being attacked when I was called back to have my sonogram done. I was horrified by the images I saw on television and was completely rocked to the core for the remainder of my pregnancy. What kind of the world was I bringing another child into? I laid down and they began the sonogram. I remember the black and white images of this sweet child of ours and how happy it made me to see his healthy image on the screen. Ten fingers and toes, sweet cheeks and nose, and his strong, beating heart. We also found out that Tanner B. was in fact another boy. I was laying there in a time when I personally was experiencing complete joy while thousands and thousands of people were in their worst moments.
How does this happen?
How do awful things happen and at the exact same time, people are experiencing complete joy and happiness?
When we want to curl up and hide and feel completely vulnerable, life goes on in the strangest of ways. I wish I understood it better. What I do know is that our country is yet again in a state of tragedy. People lost their lives. Family members are broken and confused. Police are working day in and day out to figure out what happened and why. People we know were in Las Vegas celebrating birthdays and marriages and all of a sudden, they were in this place of complete shock and sadness.
You cannot scroll through a newsfeed, watch television, or listen to the radio without hearing about these awful events and the moments that have continued after the shooting stopped. Yet somehow, we continue moving on.
Simultaneously, people are falling in love. Children are being born. Birthdays are being had and celebrated. Children are learning at school. Adults are being successful in their every day lives. All things that are cause for celebration.
We feel sadness, vulnerability, anger, and resentment all while feeling hope, joy, and love.
What in the world.
I don't understand why this happens, but I'm actually glad it does. If we were stuck in a place of sadness, what kind of life would we lead? How would we function and go on?
I don't have answers, but I do know that sometimes we just have to have all the feels at the same time. We can be in constant prayer for those in need. We can do whatever we can to help those in the trenches, while still celebrating the moments that deserve our joy.
When we lost our Nana, we struggled with this very thing. We were sad and we wanted to be sad. We wanted to stay in bed, pull the covers up, and ignore the moments that continued to happen in the midst of our sadness.
Then I went shopping and found the neatest saying. Oddly (not at all odd if you know God and his ways) enough I found a block that read "What would Nana do?" Nana lived a life of godliness and I think she would tell us to have all the feels. Actually, she would say something far more poised and together like...
"I believe it is completely acceptable to feel two things at one time."
All the feels...same thing.
We realized that even in the moments of our sadness...happy is happening all around us and she would want us to see both.
God made our hearts big enough for all the feels. Thank goodness.
Have a blessed day!
Referee of 3
Referee of 3
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Friday, September 1, 2017
Last Time for Everything
If you can't be in an extremely vulnerable emotional state...turn back now.
The title should be enough to warn you, but consider yourself warned again.
Tonight is the first "last" event of Brett's Senior year. He's my Big. He's the baby I had when I turned 21 and thought I was a really good Mom. I had no idea what I was doing (as any new mom would tell you), but somehow we managed to get him to "almost 18".
After losing our Nana a few months ago, we decided that we had felt true sadness. We lost someone who loved our boys as much (if not more) than we do. The sadness comes and goes, but it is what we call true and real and awful sadness.
Brett going through all of his "lasts" of his Senior year isn't a sadness for me. However, I feel emotions that I can't really call anything other than sad.
Clear as mud, right?
Stay with me.
As Steve and I were helping put stickers on helmets this morning and watching the new video for the football team, we both got teary. What the heck! I am NOT sad. You read that up there, right? I'm not sad, I'm not sad, I'm not sad.
But I'm sad.
I'm so excited for him and for what is to come for our family, but change is hard. And for me...the expectation and anticipation of change is even worse! All of the "what ifs" and the "have we done it right" conversations floating through my head are enough to put all of us on the closet floor with ice cream and cookie dough.
The new song by Brad Paisley-Last Time for Everything...is...the...worst. I cannot listen to it without falling apart. Why? I'm not sad-right? So why would a song about change and the last time, and focusing on the moment be sad?
BECAUSE IT IS PEOPLE!
And I'm eating my words as I type. I'm sad. I'm scared. I want to run and hide and take my babies with me. The sweet, little, freckled face boy that used to sit on my lap and tell me stories and...and...and...is growing up and I can't stop it no matter how hard I try. Can I tie your shoes? Can I make you mac and cheese? Can I take you to practice?
Lord-have mercy.
However-I realize when we had these babies, that they would grow up. I just didn't know how hard it would be. There are a lot of things I want to ask God when I get to heaven and why there isn't a book that explicitly tells you of the pain you'll feel raising children when they are delivered is one of them. Perhaps he doesn't share that information because no one in their right mind would put themselves through the highs and the lows of parenting.
I just keep telling myself that every time I worry and cry-every time I celebrate and pray for my kids...God is too. And the he's doing it for me as I go through this time of joy/sadness/madness.
One set of footprints sister. One.
There is a last time for everything. It's true. The best advice I can give right now is to be in the moment. You never know when it will be the last time for what you are doing. The hug, the conversation, the football game, the trips for coffee with friends, etc., etc., etc. Just embrace the times you have in every way.
Tonight-we will go to the last "first" football game for Big and another year of football for Middle and Little. We will all survive and the change will be good. Change means we are alive. Change doesn't mean we have to immediately accept it or pretend we are fine. It means that in the moments when we aren't fine, those who love us will show us grace and let us eat whatever we want on the closet floor knowing we'll recover.
Because that is what we do.
We are parents.
Punch in parents who are in a completely chaotic emotional and mental state because you have a change in your life that you cannot control and want to pretend you are fine. Boom.
Happy Friday!
Referee of 3
Thursday, August 17, 2017
In Case You See Me With Two Cheesecakes on a Stick...
If you are a teacher, or anyone who works in education, you will fully understand when I say I'm tired. Not new mom tired-(new moms win that award every time)-but extremely tired. With being a woman, tired means emotional. Whenever I get this way, I write something on my blog and feel a sense of relief when I'm finished.
School started on Monday for Mr. Nelson, Little, and myself. Big and Middle started the next day and since then, I've hardly seen my family. The big boys started football practice and Mr. is coaching so the three of them are a figment of my imagination during this time of year. Little has friends, football, and of course, his technology to keep him busy. I have a lot to keep me busy as well, but my mind continuously wanders when I have quiet time to myself.
Reflection-it's a blessing and a curse. I am and always have been a reflective individual. No matter what decisions I make, I always sit and think on whether that was the right choice, did I handle it well, what could I do differently or what can I celebrate in doing right?
I've been reflecting lately on life as a whole. As we start this year, we are missing something very important. Our Nana. Since she left us to be with Jesus, nothing has been the same. It is almost as if it didn't happen, until we feel the breathlessness that is the reality of her not being here to take a first day of school picture or buy the supplies. She took an active role in ALL of our lives and it just isn't the same without her. She was usually as excited for Steve and I to start school as we were. She loved taking on the volunteer role in my classroom and no one did it quite like her. She was referred to as the "Original" Mrs. Nelson (student nickname) and I known as "the other one". I'm sad that I won't have her with me this year in the room, but I KNOW she'll be there regardless.
The truth-we miss her more than we can even put into words.
But I'm so thankful for all the wonderful memories we have with her. I'm also thankful for the friendship my Mom had with her. My mom always knows when we need to talk and just what to say. She suffered the loss along side us and I'm forever grateful to have her when I feel myself falling apart.
As we start this year, we are also sending our oldest into his LAST year in school here in Mulvane. I'm trying to keep this in perspective as we roll through the first of all the lasts and it is tough. Again-tired...emotional...struggling. I look back at all of his pictures and wonder just when he grew up? I'm using that term loosely of course...because he's still a teenage boy you know. I hope and pray that we've done all we can to help him prepare for life outside of our little town. I look at his freckles and remember the first time we took him to a practice for sports. I remember when I dropped him off for kindergarten like it was no big deal and then hyperventilating when I got to the car. I remember taking him to the grade school, middle school, and high school orientation like it was yesterday. And here we are. He's almost an adult and I'm conflicted in the strongest way. I'm excited for all that is coming up, but can't help feel scared for what life will look like for him when he leaves me.
I have to remind myself daily that he was God's before he was mine and that according to Nana's favorite verse, God has a plan for his life.
The truth-I'm just not sure how to do this part of parenting.
Teaching-as I start this year of school, I am reminded again why I love what I do. In four days time, I have gotten to know my students and some of their families. I am SUPER excited for what this year has to bring and am looking forward to getting to know them all more. I had amazing students and families last year as well. Without them, I wouldn't have made it through the end of the year the way that I did. I'm sure that Nana had a say in the class selection for this year as I know they will be there to make me smile on days when I don't feel like smiling. They already warm my heart in ways I didn't think possible. God knew I needed these kids in my life...right now.
The truth-I love what I do and am so thankful for the opportunity to help them as they help me.
Old Settlers is coming up tomorrow. I usually love this time of year, but of course, it also comes with memories of Nana and the glaringly obvious truth that my babies who used to ride airplane rides are not babies anymore.
The truth-I'm going to eat fried cheesecake on a stick this weekend. Maybe even two.
IN CASE YOU SEE ME WITH TWO CHEESECAKES ON A STICK...you have two choices. Look away and let me deal, or come grab one and hang with me. :)
Change is hard.
Life is hard.
Loving change and loving life are worth it.
Cheesecake on a stick is worth it.
Have a good one-
Referee of 3
School started on Monday for Mr. Nelson, Little, and myself. Big and Middle started the next day and since then, I've hardly seen my family. The big boys started football practice and Mr. is coaching so the three of them are a figment of my imagination during this time of year. Little has friends, football, and of course, his technology to keep him busy. I have a lot to keep me busy as well, but my mind continuously wanders when I have quiet time to myself.
Reflection-it's a blessing and a curse. I am and always have been a reflective individual. No matter what decisions I make, I always sit and think on whether that was the right choice, did I handle it well, what could I do differently or what can I celebrate in doing right?
I've been reflecting lately on life as a whole. As we start this year, we are missing something very important. Our Nana. Since she left us to be with Jesus, nothing has been the same. It is almost as if it didn't happen, until we feel the breathlessness that is the reality of her not being here to take a first day of school picture or buy the supplies. She took an active role in ALL of our lives and it just isn't the same without her. She was usually as excited for Steve and I to start school as we were. She loved taking on the volunteer role in my classroom and no one did it quite like her. She was referred to as the "Original" Mrs. Nelson (student nickname) and I known as "the other one". I'm sad that I won't have her with me this year in the room, but I KNOW she'll be there regardless.
The truth-we miss her more than we can even put into words.
But I'm so thankful for all the wonderful memories we have with her. I'm also thankful for the friendship my Mom had with her. My mom always knows when we need to talk and just what to say. She suffered the loss along side us and I'm forever grateful to have her when I feel myself falling apart.
As we start this year, we are also sending our oldest into his LAST year in school here in Mulvane. I'm trying to keep this in perspective as we roll through the first of all the lasts and it is tough. Again-tired...emotional...struggling. I look back at all of his pictures and wonder just when he grew up? I'm using that term loosely of course...because he's still a teenage boy you know. I hope and pray that we've done all we can to help him prepare for life outside of our little town. I look at his freckles and remember the first time we took him to a practice for sports. I remember when I dropped him off for kindergarten like it was no big deal and then hyperventilating when I got to the car. I remember taking him to the grade school, middle school, and high school orientation like it was yesterday. And here we are. He's almost an adult and I'm conflicted in the strongest way. I'm excited for all that is coming up, but can't help feel scared for what life will look like for him when he leaves me.
I have to remind myself daily that he was God's before he was mine and that according to Nana's favorite verse, God has a plan for his life.
The truth-I'm just not sure how to do this part of parenting.
Teaching-as I start this year of school, I am reminded again why I love what I do. In four days time, I have gotten to know my students and some of their families. I am SUPER excited for what this year has to bring and am looking forward to getting to know them all more. I had amazing students and families last year as well. Without them, I wouldn't have made it through the end of the year the way that I did. I'm sure that Nana had a say in the class selection for this year as I know they will be there to make me smile on days when I don't feel like smiling. They already warm my heart in ways I didn't think possible. God knew I needed these kids in my life...right now.
The truth-I love what I do and am so thankful for the opportunity to help them as they help me.
Old Settlers is coming up tomorrow. I usually love this time of year, but of course, it also comes with memories of Nana and the glaringly obvious truth that my babies who used to ride airplane rides are not babies anymore.
The truth-I'm going to eat fried cheesecake on a stick this weekend. Maybe even two.
IN CASE YOU SEE ME WITH TWO CHEESECAKES ON A STICK...you have two choices. Look away and let me deal, or come grab one and hang with me. :)
Change is hard.
Life is hard.
Loving change and loving life are worth it.
Cheesecake on a stick is worth it.
Have a good one-
Referee of 3
Saturday, July 1, 2017
The Truth
After we lost Nana, I spent a LOT of time with my own Mom. I felt it necessary to soak up time with her while dealing with the loss of both our special person and her friend. We drank a lot of coffee, cried a lot of tears, and talked through our pain. I know she has never seen herself the way I see her, but she is beautiful inside and out. She is and always has been a blessing. Our times together help me so much. I noticed at our house that everyone kind of did their own thing. The boys were finishing their school year, Steve was finishing baseball season and the end of the year, and I was trying to get 21 4th graders out the door onto their next adventure, and I just wanted my Mom. We had no choice, but to immediately move forward.
In the months that followed Sue's diagnosis, we all coped in different ways. I think anyone who has ever read this blog knows that eating (cookie dough NOT excluded) is part of how I cope. I slept a lot. I ate when I felt upset. I stopped attending any workout classes and really didn't care. I decided that in the fight of Nana's life, I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to do. I can remember thinking...what does it matter anyway?
After losing her and laying her to rest, I realized what it mattered. As I looked back over the past five months, I knew how my careless lifestyle was affecting my ability to deal with life as it continued to come. I won't criticize any of us for the way we dealt with or are still dealing with our loss. If food brought me comfort in those dark moments, then so be it. What is a struggle for me now is trying to get myself back into a physical shape that feels healthy. No one ever gets to tell you how to handle the curves life throws at you. And one of the hardest parts of being a parent is that you feel every curve life throws at your children. This is the same thing with being a spouse. When you love someone the way God intends us to do, you feel their pain. Not just in a sympathetic way either. You truly feel it. I felt the loss of Nana times five. My parents felt the loss times six. But-it is in those people who feel the loss in a greater way, that we eventually find our peace. Our "people" help us carry that load until we are strong enough to carry it alone.
In the past week, I've been doing a cleanse. It's a diet-who am I kidding? No-it's called a challenge. Why am I telling you this? Hold on-I'll get there.
I've been eating very little food, drinking shakes, and taking supplements to help boost my metabolism. Every time I get on the scale, I want to scream at it. Do you know what I've been dealing with? Do you know how hungry I am? Why won't you go down?
Diet-cleanse-challenging is SO EXHAUSTING. I just want cream in my coffee and a plate of sugar cookies. Why can't I have that and the scale go DOWN instead of up? The truth is that I found peace in eating and in moments of quiet when nothing else in my life was calm.
Two days ago, I took my middle to eat lunch while his stereo was being installed. We sat down to lunch at one of our favorite places and I was searching the menu for a low carb, low calorie, low taste option. I settled on a taco and six chips. Yep-you read that right. SIX CHIPS. As I sat there listening to what he had to say about life, it occurred to me that meal time is somewhere that we connect. I stopped worrying about the carbs and calories and started soaking up the moments of our conversation. The food wasn't where I found my comfort. It was in the moments of being together with him. I ate more chips.
Yesterday, we all went to lunch together. This doesn't happen very often because everyone has a busy summer agenda. Two of the three are teenagers so we rarely get them to ourselves. Again, we ate. We ate and I enjoyed every minute of the boys and their conversations.
I was fine until Big and I went swimsuit shopping. Man-if you've ever had a body you don't love and sat in a dressing room chastising yourself for your poor food choices after trying on 75 different suits and end up with no suit, but a new cover up and a large pair of earrings...punch in. Swimsuit shopping is the worst. Followed closely by jeans shopping. Why does it have to be so hard?
Anyway-we went shopping. He offered to help me and I had no idea how much help he'd be. He came with me and gave me a new perspective on this frustrating body of mine. I'm not where I'd like to be on the scale. But he doesn't see me that way at all. He sees my imperfections...I mean, they are pretty obvious in a swimsuit. AND...I was quick to remind him that ultimately, the body was his fault because I had him first and there wasn't any going back from that pregnancy. BUT...I came out in swimsuit after swimsuit waiting for him to react and he never did. He was honest. He was sweet. He said things I never would have thought about because I see myself so differently. What we picked out in the end was something I could live with and he liked because of the "color scheme". No kidding...he totally said that. I've never left swimsuit shopping feeling better about myself. I didn't feel sad or totally defeated. I felt confident that I'm too hard on myself and that my children see me in a completely different light. Suddenly I felt okay with who I am at this very moment. I realized that we aren't promised another minute of this life and that I'm so blessed to be here in this very body.
I'll still try to watch my eating. I'm working out in a way that I love. I am trying to be healthy because that is when I feel better about myself. But I will not skip meals with my kids. I will not miss opportunities to be with them because of my insecurities.
It occurred to me in our moments of deep conversations, that they need me like I need my Mom. Never have I ever sat in conversation with my Mom and thought...man, she needs to work out more. Or-I wish she'd not eat so much. She's absolutely beautiful-inside and out. The boys don't see me like that either. They love me for exactly who I am. Unconditionally. Not because I can rock a swimsuit or a sweet pair of blinged out jeans, but because of who I am.
The truth is-I wish I had a pre-baby bikini body. Some people are lucky enough to get to keep those their whole lives and should rock that bikini that didn't quite work out for me yesterday. Some of us don't have that body, but realize in the strangest moments that they wouldn't trade what they have for anything in the world. Without this body, I wouldn't have my kids. I wouldn't have the life I have. I wouldn't have the peace I'm finding after loss. I guess the shorts and tank top suit will do just fine.
Thank you Jesus-for the perspective, for my life, and for your love.
Have a Blessed Day-
Referee of 3
In the months that followed Sue's diagnosis, we all coped in different ways. I think anyone who has ever read this blog knows that eating (cookie dough NOT excluded) is part of how I cope. I slept a lot. I ate when I felt upset. I stopped attending any workout classes and really didn't care. I decided that in the fight of Nana's life, I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to do. I can remember thinking...what does it matter anyway?
After losing her and laying her to rest, I realized what it mattered. As I looked back over the past five months, I knew how my careless lifestyle was affecting my ability to deal with life as it continued to come. I won't criticize any of us for the way we dealt with or are still dealing with our loss. If food brought me comfort in those dark moments, then so be it. What is a struggle for me now is trying to get myself back into a physical shape that feels healthy. No one ever gets to tell you how to handle the curves life throws at you. And one of the hardest parts of being a parent is that you feel every curve life throws at your children. This is the same thing with being a spouse. When you love someone the way God intends us to do, you feel their pain. Not just in a sympathetic way either. You truly feel it. I felt the loss of Nana times five. My parents felt the loss times six. But-it is in those people who feel the loss in a greater way, that we eventually find our peace. Our "people" help us carry that load until we are strong enough to carry it alone.
In the past week, I've been doing a cleanse. It's a diet-who am I kidding? No-it's called a challenge. Why am I telling you this? Hold on-I'll get there.
I've been eating very little food, drinking shakes, and taking supplements to help boost my metabolism. Every time I get on the scale, I want to scream at it. Do you know what I've been dealing with? Do you know how hungry I am? Why won't you go down?
Diet-cleanse-challenging is SO EXHAUSTING. I just want cream in my coffee and a plate of sugar cookies. Why can't I have that and the scale go DOWN instead of up? The truth is that I found peace in eating and in moments of quiet when nothing else in my life was calm.
Two days ago, I took my middle to eat lunch while his stereo was being installed. We sat down to lunch at one of our favorite places and I was searching the menu for a low carb, low calorie, low taste option. I settled on a taco and six chips. Yep-you read that right. SIX CHIPS. As I sat there listening to what he had to say about life, it occurred to me that meal time is somewhere that we connect. I stopped worrying about the carbs and calories and started soaking up the moments of our conversation. The food wasn't where I found my comfort. It was in the moments of being together with him. I ate more chips.
Yesterday, we all went to lunch together. This doesn't happen very often because everyone has a busy summer agenda. Two of the three are teenagers so we rarely get them to ourselves. Again, we ate. We ate and I enjoyed every minute of the boys and their conversations.
I was fine until Big and I went swimsuit shopping. Man-if you've ever had a body you don't love and sat in a dressing room chastising yourself for your poor food choices after trying on 75 different suits and end up with no suit, but a new cover up and a large pair of earrings...punch in. Swimsuit shopping is the worst. Followed closely by jeans shopping. Why does it have to be so hard?
Anyway-we went shopping. He offered to help me and I had no idea how much help he'd be. He came with me and gave me a new perspective on this frustrating body of mine. I'm not where I'd like to be on the scale. But he doesn't see me that way at all. He sees my imperfections...I mean, they are pretty obvious in a swimsuit. AND...I was quick to remind him that ultimately, the body was his fault because I had him first and there wasn't any going back from that pregnancy. BUT...I came out in swimsuit after swimsuit waiting for him to react and he never did. He was honest. He was sweet. He said things I never would have thought about because I see myself so differently. What we picked out in the end was something I could live with and he liked because of the "color scheme". No kidding...he totally said that. I've never left swimsuit shopping feeling better about myself. I didn't feel sad or totally defeated. I felt confident that I'm too hard on myself and that my children see me in a completely different light. Suddenly I felt okay with who I am at this very moment. I realized that we aren't promised another minute of this life and that I'm so blessed to be here in this very body.
I'll still try to watch my eating. I'm working out in a way that I love. I am trying to be healthy because that is when I feel better about myself. But I will not skip meals with my kids. I will not miss opportunities to be with them because of my insecurities.
It occurred to me in our moments of deep conversations, that they need me like I need my Mom. Never have I ever sat in conversation with my Mom and thought...man, she needs to work out more. Or-I wish she'd not eat so much. She's absolutely beautiful-inside and out. The boys don't see me like that either. They love me for exactly who I am. Unconditionally. Not because I can rock a swimsuit or a sweet pair of blinged out jeans, but because of who I am.
The truth is-I wish I had a pre-baby bikini body. Some people are lucky enough to get to keep those their whole lives and should rock that bikini that didn't quite work out for me yesterday. Some of us don't have that body, but realize in the strangest moments that they wouldn't trade what they have for anything in the world. Without this body, I wouldn't have my kids. I wouldn't have the life I have. I wouldn't have the peace I'm finding after loss. I guess the shorts and tank top suit will do just fine.
Thank you Jesus-for the perspective, for my life, and for your love.
Have a Blessed Day-
Referee of 3
Monday, May 8, 2017
Nana
When we first got married, Steve adopted a dog for our little family. We named her Haley and she was an amazing first family dog. She died 11 years later of cancer. She lived through our firsts together. Our first house, first child, first move, first stitches, etc. you get it. She was a member of our family. When she passed, I was heartbroken.
I packed her things and took them to my sweet friend across the street. I gave away almost everything that reminded me of her because my heart couldn't take the sadness it brought me. I swore we'd never have another dog because I couldn't lose another one. My heart just couldn't take it.
If you've ever felt this way about something, then you know what I'm talking about. I've sworn off of about a million things in my 39 years of life and anyone who knows me-knows I'm a quitter at quitting. Basically when I quit or give up-it's temporary. Sometimes momentary depending on what I'm done with at the time.
Since January, we've been going through a family crisis. Our beloved Nana (my MIL) was diagnosed with bile duct cancer. She was given a treatment option to prolong her life with us and she took it. The treatments were eventually stopped and hospice was started. This woman has been a part of every event that has happened since the moment we were engaged until now. She hasn't missed a birth, barely missed a game, made everything having to do with our boys a priority and we aren't quite sure how to continue life without her. Our hearts are broken.
This loss seems doubly unfair as Steve and his brother lost their Dad to MS when they were younger.
One of Nana's favorite children's books is called Love You Forever. She currently has it sitting out on a table. As I've watched over the past month, I've been able to see this book played out in real life. The boys have switched roles with the woman who took care of them all of their lives and now they are taking the best care of her. It's a blessing to see-for sure. I've watched as everyone has said "I Love You"-I've seen the tears and exhaustion. This is by far the worst thing I've ever experienced. And I want to quit.
I want to quit the sadness and the hurt. I want to quit the tears and the exhaustion. I want to quit on God because I am so mad that he won't just fix her. If I quit loving him, then I won't have to hurt this way again. No more dogs. No more God. No more.
And then I remember her faith. This woman has the most amazing faith I've ever witnessed. She gets it. She's been where we are sitting. She's been the one left behind more than once. Yet she still talks about her Savior. She holds onto him with a grip that I can't understand, but desperately want to.
I know quitting isn't the answer. I've always known that. And I think god knows me well enough to know that I'll quit at quitting this too. I've been listening to the Mercy Me song "Even If" for about a month. I know he sends me songs to keep me hanging on. Even when I don't want to.
There are a few things I'm grateful for in this experience. I'm so thankful for the ability to see Steve in a different light. After almost 19 years of marriage, we've seen a lot. But there is a strength that goes along with this you don't know you have until you have to. I've seen that in him. He's a blessing and he is my husband and the father of my children. For that I'm grateful.
I'm thankful for the relationships I've seen with Nana. I've had the opportunity to watch the people who love her and who she loves come and share with her their most intimate thoughts and feelings proving to us what we already know-she's an amazing soul and loved so dearly.
I'm thankful for the new perspective on what people have and will continue to go through. God doesn't open our eyes to things until he knows we are ready to see. I think about all the people I know who've done this. Who've been here. How we just continue about our busy lives-feeling sad for them, but not really getting it. You just never know what someone is going through. I've said it a million times, but now I get it. Life goes on in the middle of tragedy and we have to be able to get in the trenches with people while that happens. Not just say it-mean it.
I'm thankful for our family and friends who hold us up. You are doing a great job and we are forever grateful for all that you have done.
I told myself I'd never have a dog again because the pain was so great after the loss.
We have two dogs now. And I love them with all of my heart.
There is love after loss if you don't quit.
God-I'm counting on you to show all of us that this is true. My hope is in you alone.
Please be in prayer for all of us as we spend time with her. Pray for Scott and Steve as they say goodbye to their Momma. Pray for Brett, Tanner, and Brady to see what a blessing she was in their lives for 17, 15, and 10 Years and how much she loves Jesus. Pray for all of those who have had the opportunity to know and love her the way God intended us to do.
Thank you-
Have a Blessed Day-
Referee of 3
I packed her things and took them to my sweet friend across the street. I gave away almost everything that reminded me of her because my heart couldn't take the sadness it brought me. I swore we'd never have another dog because I couldn't lose another one. My heart just couldn't take it.
If you've ever felt this way about something, then you know what I'm talking about. I've sworn off of about a million things in my 39 years of life and anyone who knows me-knows I'm a quitter at quitting. Basically when I quit or give up-it's temporary. Sometimes momentary depending on what I'm done with at the time.
Since January, we've been going through a family crisis. Our beloved Nana (my MIL) was diagnosed with bile duct cancer. She was given a treatment option to prolong her life with us and she took it. The treatments were eventually stopped and hospice was started. This woman has been a part of every event that has happened since the moment we were engaged until now. She hasn't missed a birth, barely missed a game, made everything having to do with our boys a priority and we aren't quite sure how to continue life without her. Our hearts are broken.
This loss seems doubly unfair as Steve and his brother lost their Dad to MS when they were younger.
One of Nana's favorite children's books is called Love You Forever. She currently has it sitting out on a table. As I've watched over the past month, I've been able to see this book played out in real life. The boys have switched roles with the woman who took care of them all of their lives and now they are taking the best care of her. It's a blessing to see-for sure. I've watched as everyone has said "I Love You"-I've seen the tears and exhaustion. This is by far the worst thing I've ever experienced. And I want to quit.
I want to quit the sadness and the hurt. I want to quit the tears and the exhaustion. I want to quit on God because I am so mad that he won't just fix her. If I quit loving him, then I won't have to hurt this way again. No more dogs. No more God. No more.
And then I remember her faith. This woman has the most amazing faith I've ever witnessed. She gets it. She's been where we are sitting. She's been the one left behind more than once. Yet she still talks about her Savior. She holds onto him with a grip that I can't understand, but desperately want to.
I know quitting isn't the answer. I've always known that. And I think god knows me well enough to know that I'll quit at quitting this too. I've been listening to the Mercy Me song "Even If" for about a month. I know he sends me songs to keep me hanging on. Even when I don't want to.
There are a few things I'm grateful for in this experience. I'm so thankful for the ability to see Steve in a different light. After almost 19 years of marriage, we've seen a lot. But there is a strength that goes along with this you don't know you have until you have to. I've seen that in him. He's a blessing and he is my husband and the father of my children. For that I'm grateful.
I'm thankful for the relationships I've seen with Nana. I've had the opportunity to watch the people who love her and who she loves come and share with her their most intimate thoughts and feelings proving to us what we already know-she's an amazing soul and loved so dearly.
I'm thankful for the new perspective on what people have and will continue to go through. God doesn't open our eyes to things until he knows we are ready to see. I think about all the people I know who've done this. Who've been here. How we just continue about our busy lives-feeling sad for them, but not really getting it. You just never know what someone is going through. I've said it a million times, but now I get it. Life goes on in the middle of tragedy and we have to be able to get in the trenches with people while that happens. Not just say it-mean it.
I'm thankful for our family and friends who hold us up. You are doing a great job and we are forever grateful for all that you have done.
I told myself I'd never have a dog again because the pain was so great after the loss.
We have two dogs now. And I love them with all of my heart.
There is love after loss if you don't quit.
God-I'm counting on you to show all of us that this is true. My hope is in you alone.
Please be in prayer for all of us as we spend time with her. Pray for Scott and Steve as they say goodbye to their Momma. Pray for Brett, Tanner, and Brady to see what a blessing she was in their lives for 17, 15, and 10 Years and how much she loves Jesus. Pray for all of those who have had the opportunity to know and love her the way God intended us to do.
Thank you-
Have a Blessed Day-
Referee of 3
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
He knows...
Warning-
Sappy Mom Post.
If you aren't interested in joining me for a good cry, turn back now.
This year seems strange. Good, but in a strange way. In the past, I've been extremely excited about the Holidays. I was grateful for an amazing Thanksgiving with my family. It was a great day with family and fantastic foods to be had. I usually spend the later half of the day gearing up for Black Friday (that has now turned into Thanksgiving evening), but for some reason, I just couldn't get going. I noticed the same for the friends that I shop with. We wandered around aimlessly and were happier on the way home than we were on the way out.
Weird.
Anyway, on Thanksgiving weekend, I always set up for Christmas. This year, I realized that I had gotten rid of our tree last year and we hadn't replaced it yet. No big deal...we just put off decorating for a week or so. However, it seems so strange without anything Christmas up yet.
Again, weird.
Finally, for the past two nights, our family has sat down to watch Christmas movies. Not something we've ever done in the past until just before Christmas. I think I wanted to get in the spirit without having to drag out all of the boxes and fight the Lab puppy for every ornament and strand of light, but honestly...who knows.
As we were watching Elf last night, Little turns to me and says..."Mom, I know."
I stared at him in a blind panic. "Know what?", I casually asked?
"I know...about...you know."
(This was during the part when Buddy is talking to Papa Elf about why people don't believe and what they could think was happening instead of the Big Guy bringing their presents.)
I laughed nervously as he grilled me for information and he just kept saying...I know.
I started with asking who told him.
Then I tried to lie to him again.
Then I blamed his Father. (just kidding)
Then...it happened. I couldn't even control it. I started crying...ugly crying...in front of the child who just confessed to me that he is a MUCH BIGGER KID now.
He sat and held my hand. He apologized a million times.
Yes. He apologized to me for my lying to him for ten years about the magic of Christmas.
I have to tell you people...this one hurt. I remember when Big confessed that he knew. I also remembering having a very serious conversation with Middle. But this...this is the real deal. He's my baby. He's my Little. He's the one who was supposed to never grow up...never stop believing...and never leave.
My heart.
I can't breathe.
I know, I'm being dramatic. It's my thing.
When I finally got it together, we finished watching our movie and then we talked. As I went to bed last night, I laid there thinking about how this all went down. And it hit me.
I need to share with him the magic of Christmas and teach him what we've all learned about sharing our enthusiasm about the Elf and Santa with the birth of Jesus. The magic of Christmas for me (since I found out so long ago) is the time I spend with the ones I love. The looks on their faces when they open a gift that I put time and effort into picking out just for them. The warm feeling. The music. The thought of the unconditional love that God has for us that he sent his son to us on this "magical" day we call Christmas. I pray that my children have the magic of Christmas in their hearts because of what they've learned from us about the TRUE meaning of Christmas. My parents taught my sister and I well. We KNOW and love the feeling of Christmas. And we know it has nothing to do with Ol' St. Nick. Even though I immensely enjoyed the act my parents put on for so long.
I know being sad about this is a thing. I called my Mom last night and I could hear the sadness in her voice as well.
Oh man...having kids is so hard.
Being a parent is so hard.
Thank goodness for Grace, Love, and good cookie dough.
If you've ever felt this way, punch in. I'm with you on the sadness. But, I'm also so thankful for the true magic of Christmas. Life moves on whether we are ready for it or not. So...like it or not, I'm moving too.
Have a blessed day!
Referee of 3...Big Boys
Sappy Mom Post.
If you aren't interested in joining me for a good cry, turn back now.
This year seems strange. Good, but in a strange way. In the past, I've been extremely excited about the Holidays. I was grateful for an amazing Thanksgiving with my family. It was a great day with family and fantastic foods to be had. I usually spend the later half of the day gearing up for Black Friday (that has now turned into Thanksgiving evening), but for some reason, I just couldn't get going. I noticed the same for the friends that I shop with. We wandered around aimlessly and were happier on the way home than we were on the way out.
Weird.
Anyway, on Thanksgiving weekend, I always set up for Christmas. This year, I realized that I had gotten rid of our tree last year and we hadn't replaced it yet. No big deal...we just put off decorating for a week or so. However, it seems so strange without anything Christmas up yet.
Again, weird.
Finally, for the past two nights, our family has sat down to watch Christmas movies. Not something we've ever done in the past until just before Christmas. I think I wanted to get in the spirit without having to drag out all of the boxes and fight the Lab puppy for every ornament and strand of light, but honestly...who knows.
As we were watching Elf last night, Little turns to me and says..."Mom, I know."
I stared at him in a blind panic. "Know what?", I casually asked?
"I know...about...you know."
(This was during the part when Buddy is talking to Papa Elf about why people don't believe and what they could think was happening instead of the Big Guy bringing their presents.)
I laughed nervously as he grilled me for information and he just kept saying...I know.
I started with asking who told him.
Then I tried to lie to him again.
Then I blamed his Father. (just kidding)
Then...it happened. I couldn't even control it. I started crying...ugly crying...in front of the child who just confessed to me that he is a MUCH BIGGER KID now.
He sat and held my hand. He apologized a million times.
Yes. He apologized to me for my lying to him for ten years about the magic of Christmas.
I have to tell you people...this one hurt. I remember when Big confessed that he knew. I also remembering having a very serious conversation with Middle. But this...this is the real deal. He's my baby. He's my Little. He's the one who was supposed to never grow up...never stop believing...and never leave.
My heart.
I can't breathe.
I know, I'm being dramatic. It's my thing.
When I finally got it together, we finished watching our movie and then we talked. As I went to bed last night, I laid there thinking about how this all went down. And it hit me.
I need to share with him the magic of Christmas and teach him what we've all learned about sharing our enthusiasm about the Elf and Santa with the birth of Jesus. The magic of Christmas for me (since I found out so long ago) is the time I spend with the ones I love. The looks on their faces when they open a gift that I put time and effort into picking out just for them. The warm feeling. The music. The thought of the unconditional love that God has for us that he sent his son to us on this "magical" day we call Christmas. I pray that my children have the magic of Christmas in their hearts because of what they've learned from us about the TRUE meaning of Christmas. My parents taught my sister and I well. We KNOW and love the feeling of Christmas. And we know it has nothing to do with Ol' St. Nick. Even though I immensely enjoyed the act my parents put on for so long.
I know being sad about this is a thing. I called my Mom last night and I could hear the sadness in her voice as well.
Oh man...having kids is so hard.
Being a parent is so hard.
Thank goodness for Grace, Love, and good cookie dough.
If you've ever felt this way, punch in. I'm with you on the sadness. But, I'm also so thankful for the true magic of Christmas. Life moves on whether we are ready for it or not. So...like it or not, I'm moving too.
Have a blessed day!
Referee of 3...Big Boys
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Life
Right now-we are in a season of life that brings constant confusion and chaos.
I want you to know as I am writing, I am thinking to myself that I wouldn't have it any other way. I actually feel like I if we didn't have constant chaos, something would be wrong.
We went to a birthday party yesterday and we were early. This (for anyone who knows me) is not something that happens often. We were fifteen minutes early AND we had our gift and card ready to go. As we sat in the parking lot, I asked Little how he felt. He said it felt good to be early. In fact, he said, "So this is what it feels like to be on time!"
He's so cute...when he isn't insulting me.
I get it. I understand how I'm the parent and they depend on me to be routined, organized, and on time. However, I wish sometimes our kids understood the workings of our inner minds. I like to refer to my brain as a file cabinet. Most people have nice, organized, neatly labeled files. Mine, is a cabinet that got tipped over and all the files are scattered on the floor.
Somehow-by the grace of God...we get most of the important stuff done. However, we slip up sometimes and things become stressful.
Last week, I felt like I was at an all time high for chaos. With my family, my job, my cheer team, and our up and coming fall conferences, I felt like I was going to lose something in the shuffle. I kept thinking to myself...there has to be more to this life than all this chaos.
When I was in high school, I was a waitress at Pizza Hut. I liked talking to people and enjoyed working with my friends. One time, I had a big party of guests who all ordered large drinks. I filled the drink order and walked carefully to the table. As I leaned down to set down one of the cups, I knocked one over and they all fell. From there, it seemed like life was moving in slow motion. Waves of water and soft drinks came splashing onto the table and all of the guests were soaked. I wanted to cry and remember waiting for the severe tongue lashing that would no doubt come from my customers, followed by my boss.
However-those words never came. I'm sure they were upset and frustrated that I tried to carry too many cups, but they never made me feel bad. Everyone was very understanding of the accident that happened. When we got them dried off and directed to a new table, I went back to the counter and filled their drinks again. This time, I took two trips. I made the adjustments necessary to be successful in that moment.
I think this happens a lot in life. We think we can do more than we actually can, so we load up our tray with anything that will "fit". Then, in the moment of delivery, something falls and the whole tray goes down.
I felt that way last week with our crazy, chaotic life. I couldn't figure out what was missing. And then it hit me.
I had filled my tray with so much, that I didn't leave room for God. When I realized what was missing, I knew I had to figure out how to make two trips. In just a few days time, I was able to add my devotion time back into my life, I spent time in prayer, and immediately had peace.
Sometimes when we are overwhelmed, we think we need to cut things out of our life. And this might be true at a point. However, sometimes you don't have to get rid of anything. You just have to prioritize what you have, make adjustments, and include God in those moments.
You would think at 38, I wouldn't have to keep re-learning these lessons.
I guess that is why we are life long learners. I'm so thankful for customers, bosses, family, and friends that understand when the tray of drinks comes crashing down.
Just food for thought.
Have a blessed day!
Referee of 3
I want you to know as I am writing, I am thinking to myself that I wouldn't have it any other way. I actually feel like I if we didn't have constant chaos, something would be wrong.
We went to a birthday party yesterday and we were early. This (for anyone who knows me) is not something that happens often. We were fifteen minutes early AND we had our gift and card ready to go. As we sat in the parking lot, I asked Little how he felt. He said it felt good to be early. In fact, he said, "So this is what it feels like to be on time!"
He's so cute...when he isn't insulting me.
I get it. I understand how I'm the parent and they depend on me to be routined, organized, and on time. However, I wish sometimes our kids understood the workings of our inner minds. I like to refer to my brain as a file cabinet. Most people have nice, organized, neatly labeled files. Mine, is a cabinet that got tipped over and all the files are scattered on the floor.
Somehow-by the grace of God...we get most of the important stuff done. However, we slip up sometimes and things become stressful.
Last week, I felt like I was at an all time high for chaos. With my family, my job, my cheer team, and our up and coming fall conferences, I felt like I was going to lose something in the shuffle. I kept thinking to myself...there has to be more to this life than all this chaos.
When I was in high school, I was a waitress at Pizza Hut. I liked talking to people and enjoyed working with my friends. One time, I had a big party of guests who all ordered large drinks. I filled the drink order and walked carefully to the table. As I leaned down to set down one of the cups, I knocked one over and they all fell. From there, it seemed like life was moving in slow motion. Waves of water and soft drinks came splashing onto the table and all of the guests were soaked. I wanted to cry and remember waiting for the severe tongue lashing that would no doubt come from my customers, followed by my boss.
However-those words never came. I'm sure they were upset and frustrated that I tried to carry too many cups, but they never made me feel bad. Everyone was very understanding of the accident that happened. When we got them dried off and directed to a new table, I went back to the counter and filled their drinks again. This time, I took two trips. I made the adjustments necessary to be successful in that moment.
I think this happens a lot in life. We think we can do more than we actually can, so we load up our tray with anything that will "fit". Then, in the moment of delivery, something falls and the whole tray goes down.
I felt that way last week with our crazy, chaotic life. I couldn't figure out what was missing. And then it hit me.
I had filled my tray with so much, that I didn't leave room for God. When I realized what was missing, I knew I had to figure out how to make two trips. In just a few days time, I was able to add my devotion time back into my life, I spent time in prayer, and immediately had peace.
Sometimes when we are overwhelmed, we think we need to cut things out of our life. And this might be true at a point. However, sometimes you don't have to get rid of anything. You just have to prioritize what you have, make adjustments, and include God in those moments.
You would think at 38, I wouldn't have to keep re-learning these lessons.
I guess that is why we are life long learners. I'm so thankful for customers, bosses, family, and friends that understand when the tray of drinks comes crashing down.
Just food for thought.
Have a blessed day!
Referee of 3
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