SAHM

Most know the acronym SAHM to stand for "Stay At Home Mom".  I wish I could say that's true for me.  I'm more like a "Sometimes At Home Mom".  You see, I can't stand to stay home all day.  I just HAVE to get out to do something...anything...please!  Even if it means I get out to only buy a bag of M&M's I WILL get out of the house.  And my oldest has inherited the same need. 

Some days I notice he's getting very short tempered and squirmy.  All it takes to fix it, is a quick trip to QuikTrip.  Just a change in scenery.  He's always been that way.  Even as a baby, he would get fussy and all he really needed was to take a stroll down to the other room.

I'm that way in my spiritual walk too.  I get stuck in a rut and just need some new scenery.  Some new revelation from the Lord about His character, or mine.  That's why I'm so thankful that the Word of the Lord is breathed by Him and is never changing but always Alive and Active. 

So thankful that God has created so much in our world to catch our attention.  To keep us from getting stagnant or...worse...short tempered and squirmy.  He's created beautiful things in our world and in His Word.

Boys To Men

I just want to take some liberty here to brag a bit on this phenomenal husband of mine.  You see, he's not your ordinary run-of-the-mill husband.  He wears shorts and free tshirts to work, he does the dishes, neither he (nor I) could probably tell you the last sport he purposely watched on television, he doesn't hunt or fish (I didn't say he CAN'T, I said he DOESN'T) and he says "I Love You" at the end of every phone conversation he has with me.  I know what you're thinking, 'my husband does all that too'.  Maybe you're right!  But, there's just something about my man that makes me so proud to honor him.

I know God knows what He's doing when he puts us together.

Casey LOVES to build things.  Probably even more, he loves to take things apart and then put them back together.  You see, he's very intuitive and learns by doing all sorts of research and then jumping into a project.  I love that about him!  Because of that trait, he built a house for us!  With his very own hands.  His and the hands of some of our very dear friends.  He repairs our broken vehicles.  He mends things around the house. Fixes "broken" appliances and electronics.  I can't tell you how many dollars he's saved by researching and fixing things others would have thrown away.  He baked some sort of computer part in the oven to buy us some more time with a laptop!  IT WORKED!!!  He's brilliant.

I love, most of all, that he's teaching our boys to try anything and to not give up.  He's teaching them that it's okay to experiment and try something they think is impossible.

He remembers being taught that lesson by his parents.  And he tells me of nails he and his twin brother drove into the window ledge with hammers as young boys.  He tells me they are still there today.  And all because his mother realized what was more important in life.

I hope I can be that kind of mother.  The kind that sees the big picture and does what it takes to encourage my boys to be men.  To take on tasks that may seem too big or too risky so they can experience what it's like to succeed.

This is my prayer.  That my boys would grow up to be just like my man.

Superhero Down!

We went to Walmart with grandma tonight.  And, you know what that means...brand spankin' new superhero capes and masks all around!  Well, I didn't get one.  I'm trying not to be too bitter about it though.

With our oldest having a new obsession with Spiderman, this was the perfect addition to his wardrobe.  He wore it very proudly the moment we made it to the car after checking out at the store.  He was thrilled and nearly overcome with pride when he found the cape to flap furiously in the wind while he rode his bike.  I giggled as I watched him.  He was so cute.  He would say..."MOM!  It's wind-ing!"  Meaning, it's blowing in the wind.  I don't' have the heart to correct him.  It's like my sister would say when my parents would be driving a bit faster than they should..."Dad...are you speeding the limits?"  I still ask myself that question from time to time.

As we loaded the car to head him from grandma's, it was only a matter of minutes before the superhero's mask was broken. Turns out, it does't make a good slingshot. But, somethings you just don't know 'til you try it.  My little superhero was so heartbroken.  He was nearly in tears and begging me to fix it.  I promised him that I would have it fixed good as new before he awoke the next morning.

When we got home, he put it where I couldn't forget about it and went to bed.  I'm sure he's dreaming of chasing down bad guys and leaping from one building to the next in a single bound.

I'm so in love with this phase of his life.  He's so fearless.  He's learning his limits too.  And I can't tell you how many times a day I'm "stuck in a web" because Spiderman saw fit that I would be.  Then, he comes along with "magic scissors" and frees me.  And the pride on his face when he saves the day is just priceless.

I love that little superhero, and his baby brother.  They've both stolen my heart and I know they'd rescue me from a tall tall building any day.

What did you learn today?

2+2=4...In the year of 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue...A fun way to remember to spell Halloween (I still remember a very catchy song I learned in 1st grade)  Or, the ever popular..."nuthin'"

You want to know what I learned today?  Here we go...

I learned I can survive running errands without my cell phone!  Yes, that rascal didn't make it's way into my purse this morning and I left without it.  I was apart from it for a solid 3 hours and no one died!  It can be done!

Patience is a virtue and it always pays off.

The Word of the Lord is alive and active!  Today I heard a take on the story of David and Goliath that I'd never heard before.  It was beautiful. Wish I could recite it for you but I'm pretty sure I'd butcher it.

I learned that it is possible...hard, but possible...to visit Hobby Lobby and leave for less than $20!

No matter how hard I try, I cannot undo free will.  And it's hard when it comes to my children.  I'd love to be a puppet master and program them to only do what I tell them to.  But, it doesn't work like that.  And I have to learn to not let their behavior seem a reflection on me.  And I have to give other people that grace too.  That's a hard lesson I'm afraid I'm not finished learning.

Babies are easier to care for when they're not my own!!  I've started babysitting a precious angel baby girl.  She's AMAZING and I'm so blessed to care for her.  And I can tell you, she's a piece of cake!  Although, it probably helps that I don't have her overnight.  I'm getting a solid 8 hours before taking care of her.  That'll make most anyone seem like an angel. : )

I learned I can simply not go one day without ice cream.  I can't!  And I'm okay with that.

And, just an hour ago, I witnessed a vocal group practice that became a time of worshiping our Savior through song and it made my heart melt.  I love that I'm part of the body of Christ!  And I'm glad that I'm serving at a church and with people who are so in love with Jesus that it oozes out of every part of their lives.  I learned that I can be honest with them about my life.  It's so freeing to be real with folks!

I'm sure I learned much more today.  But, I think I'll stop there.

What did you learn?

With Hard Rocks

There's just not much in the world better, to me, than rocking a baby.  And no one I know can rock one better than my daddy.  And when he rocks a baby...he rocks "with hard rocks".  He says that's the only way.  You have to rock with intensity and whack 'em on the bootie until they konk out. Either because the hard rocks actually worked or they just get tired of being whacked in the rear that they close their eyes in an attempt to make it stop. Either way...he's the best!

I've yet to produce an offspring of my own who enjoys a good cuddle/rocking session.  Probably because I started very early allowing them to self-soothe to sleep.  They'd  much rather be put in bed in a dark room and go to sleep on their own.

However, there are rare occasions when my youngest asks to rock before bedtime.  I love and savor those moments.  And tonight was one.

I sat down in the chair with his trusty blankie and puppy and rocked gently back and forth for a good 10 minutes.  He just laid there on my chest sucking his thumb and snuggling his blankie.  And ever so often he'd reach up and stroke my chin with his fingers.

I heard a song by Nicole C. Mullen once that she sings to her children at bedtime.  I have vamped it a bit and when I get an opportunity to have some rocking time with my boys, I sing to them.  And the words are these:

My Denver (Tanner)
You are my precious baby boy
My sweet Denver (Tanner)
You always bring me so much joy

I'm so glad God gave you to me
Sleepy angel, face of peace
I'm so glad God gave you to me
My baby love
Goodnight

I don't know how many times I sang that song tonight.  Over and over and over again.  Determined to not stop until he made me.  (sometimes he looks up at me with those precious brown eyes and says "momma...stop singing!")  Not tonight!  He let me sing him to sleep.  And as I was making the move from the chair to the bed, he awoke.  Just long enough to say "I love you momma".

Ugh!  Melt my heart!  It took everything in me to not sit back down in that chair and stay there all night.  But...I had to pee.

Feathers, Hotwheels and Army Men

I began a new bible study at my church this morning.  It was the first time we met for the new fall semester.  Women of all ages, shapes and sizes piled into a room. We all munched around on yummy breakfast foods and coffee before we split up to go our separate ways for our studies.  While I was sitting there enjoying my cinnamon roll...and pastry...and muffin...and fruit (ahhh..yes, the fruit! The only redeeming factor to my plate of carbs), I noticed the lady standing in front of me.  She was chatting it up with someone, whom I assume, she'd been missing for awhile. They were having a good ol' time.  Then I noticed something... sticking up from the top of the back pocket of her jeans was a feather. A feather!  Not any kind of spectacular feather.  Just an ordinary run-of-the-mill grey bird feather.  I pondered for about a half a second and then it hit me...she's a mom!  She's a mom who, on her way out the door with her arm-load of kiddos, stopped for a moment to gush over a feather with her youngster who was stopped dead in his tracks by the wonder of it.

I can't tell you how many times this has happened to me.  Why, just today, my son was so proud over his discovery of a locust!  He brought it in the house to show me.  Placed it ever so gently on the carpet and proceeded to smash it.  You see..some choose to marvel over it and some absolutely must demolish it.

I know that at any given moment my purse/pocket/bag will consist of an assortment of items that I will not need EVER but absolutely MUST go with us!  The yellow car (not just any yellow car...it must be the one that has the doors that open and has the blue lightning bolt on the side), the army man, the bubble wand or the wrapper from a Reese's cup (they're shiny and, therefore, cannot be thrown away).  All these things make it in the "carry on" because it's just easier to say "okay!  Just put it here and we'll take it with us" than it is to try and reason with the child.

And when I stumble across these items while I'm fumbling around looking for my keys, I think of my babies.  I remember when I put it in there.  By the time I've found it, my son has already forgotten that he had given it to me.  And I suppose it's really just there to make me smile.

So, the next time you're reaching under the carseat chasing after that runaway quarter that slipped through your fingers and you come upon a marble or a water gun, take a moment to think about the reason it's there.  Or, better yet, take a moment to pray for the one you think of the moment you find it.

Labor Day

I was inspired by a friend of mine who's a seasoned blogger!  Today she, and some of her other friends, have chosen to blog about their Labor Days.  (birthing baby days)  So...I thought I'd join in!

There's something about a labor and delivery story that gets all mommies excited.  I don't care how long it's been since you've counted..breathed..pushed...screamed your way through it, you still enjoy sharing your stories and hearing others.

Early December 2007 my doctor gave me the "any day now" speech and got me all excited.  May I just say, that's just plain mean!  Due dates are stupid!  Just enjoy every day of it and know that the baby will come when they're good and ready!  Tanner was still not here by his due date (Jan 10, 2008) so doc said I could be induced whenever I'd like.  There was no medical reason for it...just misery and swollen feet.  I said..."let's do it!" and we did.

On January 10th, 2008 I was induced.  My entire family was there!  They were there before the induction even began.  Sweet saints they are.  I progressed quite quickly once the induction started.  Once I dilated to a 3, I believe it was like 3am, I was tired and ready for some sleep. They then gave me my epidural.  (or, as I call it, sweet gift from God!)  Tanner wasn't born for another 12 hours!  Talk about slowing things down.  This being my first delivery, I didn't know exactly what I was supposed to be feeling like.  We had taken childbirth classes but nothing can totally prepare you for it. So, I was a little clueless.  I kept asking them to "check" me (which, by the way, is a magical thing...sense the sarcasm) every time the nurse would come in.  After one such checking, the nurse pronounced me 6cm and began to waltz out the door.  I stopped her and asked when she'd check me again.  She said she'd check whenever I wanted her to.  Casey, deciding that from 6 - 10 he'd have enough time to scarf down a sandwich, went downstairs to have a late lunch.  While he was gone, I felt the urge to push.  I called the nurse in and she checked.  She said "yep...you've made some progress!  You're at a 9. We'll call the doc and have a baby".  I called Casey...he came back up (not sure if he ever did get to eat)...and then the doc showed up.

I loved my doctor.  Robert Aikman.  An AMAZING man!  He walked in...and just plopped down on the bed.  I loved his easy going demeanor.  He kept me cool.  He looked at the monitor and said.."alright, on the next contraction, let's push".  And I did!  And out came Tanner Selph only 4 pushes later.  7 lbs 14 oz 21 in  Perfect!

Side note:: Upon hospital check-in I signed my name "Kayla Epidural Selph" (not really) and had a great medicated labor and delivery.  My pain was controlled but I was not completely absent of feeling; I could move my legs, turn-over, walk around immediately after birth, feel when it was time to push, etc.  My baby made his arrival active, alert, and nursing well!   I say, if you want to have a natural delivery, do it!  But if you want to have pain medication, do it!  Don't let anyone make you feel like less of a woman or less of a mama for the choice you make.  Having a baby is beautiful work. Period.


My second baby was born via C-section because of complications with the pregnancy.  (Placenta Previa, to be exact)  So, his delivery was quite different.  He was born after two months of strict bed rest.  One of those two, being in the hospital.  While in the operating room, my heart was nearly pounding out of my chest.  He was being born 4 weeks early so we didn't know what to expect. We had met with the NICU specialist to discuss the possibility that he'd need to spend some time there.  I was prepared for them to whisk him away and to not get to see him until I could walk again.  


Having your insides cut open and pushed around on, even while numb, is an incredible feeling.  Incredibly...weird!  And, while this is happening, my doctor is discussing with one of the other surgeons their costumes for halloween.  My doc was going as Cher.  She was mid-sentence when she said..."okay, you're going to feel a LOT of pressure now."  She was right!  It felt like someone was trying to pull my lungs out of my toenails.  And then...MAGIC!  The most precious sound.  My Denver Wade crying.  She held him up for us to see.  I soaked in every inch of him.  Preparing to not see him again for awhile.  He was beautiful!  Long, skinny and dark.  Casey disappeared to go watch them clean him up and weigh and measure him.  Not long after, he returned to tell me that Denver was a perfectly healthy 6 lbs 6 oz 19 in and would be going to the regular nursery.  He then brought back my baby burrito for me to gaze at some more.

There's not a word in the world to describe the feeling of laying eyes on your baby for the first time.  Just pure magic.  True love.



So, those are my stories!  

The Ultimate

Today we celebrated the life of my grandmother.  The mother of my mother.  And what an amazing legacy she left.

Even though she never bore a son, I don't doubt that she would know the exact things to say to me in every situation in my child-raising days.  The woman was ALWAYS right!

She had three daughters. And, no more after that.  I think I'd stop at one!  One girl holds enough drama to last me a looooong time.  But, she had three and never batted an eye.  Never once did I think.."gosh..she's gonna come unglued!"  But, her girls were all grown by the time I came to know her. Although, I know grown women who probably make their momma's blush.

This lady was a saint. And now, she's reaping the benefits of it.

I was privileged to read a poem at her graveside.  One that was found buried deep in her bible.  A poem entitled "Immortality".  Basically it's gist is that she should like to be remembered in the little things that make us think of her.  For me, those little things are...sleeping bags, bells, coo coo clocks, windbreakers, donuts, garage sales, Fruity Pebbles and red onions.

My grandma was the ultimate grandma!  She was the ultimate mother. She was the ultimate wife. She set the bar so high, I'm not sure my legs will ever be long enough to jump it. And, my legs are long!

I can honestly say, I'm not sure I ever heard my grandmother say a single thing that did not honor or uplift her husband!  Not ONE thing!  I don't remember ever seeing an eye rolling aimed at him.  Or even a shot of sarcasm.  She personified honor and submission toward her husband.  I admire that.

She was forever understanding of her grandkids.  I don't ever remember feeling at all like I was inferior or less than best around her.  She was an amazing baton twirler in school.  And I wanted to be just like her.  However, I was given the gracefulness of a camel.  And I soon learned that baton twirling was not my thing. But she still encouraged me and even let me use her "real" baton!  I may as well have been handed the olympic torch when she let me hold it.

She was an encourager.  And a prayer warrior.

I love her dearly and hope to some day be the kind of woman that my children and grandchildren will look up to and "call her blessed".  I've got a long way to go.

When it rains...

Some weeks and even months are all about racing Hotwheels, eating cookies, playing with friends and practicing our "please and thank you"s.  Some days are filled up with hugs and kisses, high fives and giggles.  Some Sundays are about worshipping out of the abundance of goodness that's been poured into our lives.  Some Fridays are about picking out the funniest movie we can think of and cozying on the couch to watch it and stuff ourselves with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.  

However, some weeks are all about racing thoughts, eating our words, praying with friends and practicing our patience and endurance. Some days are filled up with hugs and tears, high emotions and sobs.  Some Sundays are about worshipping out of the spirit of sacrifice.  Some Fridays are about sitting quietly on the couch waiting for the Lord to answer our cries for help. 

And when it rains...it pours.  

This last week has been one that falls into the latter category.  For starters, I was diagnosed with a disorder called Allergic Broncho-Pulmonary Aspergillosis.  Basically it's a disorder that causes my immune system to attack my airways destroying my lung tissue.  Left untreated, it could kill me...and fast.  This week has been consumed (almost) with thoughts about treatments and procedures. 

And, today, I was faced with the news that my grandmother has not much longer to live.  Maybe only a day or two.  She's been fighting a long battle with Alzheimer's and is on the last leg of it. She's no longer eating or drinking.  We are now waiting for her body to cease function.  

And it's these weeks/days/months when the boys sense my stress and begin to act out.  I suppose it's an attempt to gain some sort of attention!  Since mine has been stretched out over so many other things that seem more important at the time.

So this is our "as of late".

I know that God has promised to never leave us or forsake us.  He has promised to make everything work out for my good.  He has promised to make all things beautiful in it's time.  

These are the things I hang on to. And I remember how faithful He's always been.  

And I try to remember that playing cars and coloring outside the lines has proven therapeutic for me.  I should do it more often.

What Goes Up...

On days like today, when it's a million and ten degrees outside, we like to visit our favorite Chic-fil-A.  Or, as some like to call it...Christian Chicken!  We choose this place because they have an indoor play area.  And my boys LOVE it!

Until recently, Denver could not master the art of climbing up the tower to get to the fancy tunnels and slide. So, he would stick to playing in the toddler area with the tiny treehouse.  Which, may I say, is super cute!  But, today, he figured out how to swing his chubby little legs just right so he could ascend to the fancy pants part of the jungle gym.  And boy was he proud of himself! That is, until he discovered what Galileo discovered so long ago; What goes up must come down. And it's the coming down that Denver was not so sure about.

What I also enjoy about this establishment is that parents, who are brave enough, can sit in the dining area and watch their children through plexiglass.  They can enjoy their food in a place that doesn't smell like stinky socks.  And that's just what we did. We watched Denver climb up the tower and we cheered for him when he reached the top. All the while not realizing that the plexiglass I mentioned is also soundproof. So, all the accolades were really only heard by patrons of the restaurant trying to enjoy their lunch in peace.  Also, thanks to the sound proof plastic, we were unable to hear Denver's cries for help.  His sad, sad, sad tears.  Once our attention was drawn to him (thanks to a parent who WAS paying attention) we decided that one of us should try to coax him down.

Denver loves slides.  LOVES slides!  But the slide at the end of this toy is one of those corkscrew ones that you can't see the end of until you're there!  And, we discovered later, they are NOT intended for adults!  Turns out, the "you must be under this height to play" sign, was very aptly sized.  Anyway...we could not talk him into going down the slide. He sat there and watched kid after kid after sweaty kid go down and climb back up but he wouldn't do it.  I suppose, he was unsure where it lead.  So...

After some deliberation, Casey decided to climb the tower to rescue our sad baby.  What a man, what a man.  And what a flexible man!  This tower requires you to be very limber...if you're not a 2yr old.  But he maneuvered his way up and brought down the kid.  Once at the bottom, Denver was encouraged to "STAY DOWN!"  But, curiosity, and probably tiny people peer pressure, got he best of him and he climbed back up TWICE!  And, was rescued TWICE more by his ever-lovin' momma.

As much fun as it was (I say this with all due sarcasm), I decided that twice was enough and we "shut the party down" as my dad would say.  Put back on the stinky shoes and went home.

I'm sure that the folks enjoying their chicken sandwiches this afternoon were very entertained by the circus that is our family.  And we were happy to oblige!

ahhh...the life!

"Hey Mom!!"

I remember having our first baby.  I remember, like it was yesterday, looking in his eyes and wondering who he'd be and what he'd be like.  In fact, I still often do that.  I mean...he's only 3!  And I remember, as he grew older, wondering what his first word would be!  And, like every mom, I tried my darnedest to get him to say "momma" loud and clear!  But, as every baby does (it seems), the first word he uttered was "dada".  Now, I was quick to chalk that up to muscle development and experimenting with consonants. But, as every father does, his declared the baby's first word to be "dada". And, so it stuck.

With our firstborn, I had to wait a grueling year before hearing him say my name.  I'm sure it was trumped by "puppy", "ace" (airplane), and the ever popular "deet deet" (his response to my attempt to get him to say "more please").  It took f.o.r.e.v.e.r. for him to say momma.  But I was patient and I acted like I was happy for his daddy.  But, inside, I was anything but!

As he's grown, I've wondered when the "hey mom" phase would hit.  You know..."hey mom...watch this", "hey mom...did you see that?", "hey mom...the baby's peeing on the carpet!".  Yeah, those "hey moms".  And they came!  Boy did they ever!

And our little smarty pants will not accept direct eye contact as a response to his beckoning.  The response must be "Yes, Tanner".  So, this phrase echoes in the house, car, grocery store, bathroom, back yard and anywhere else he finds a question or statement necessary (which is..everywhere!)

And today I caught myself rolling my eyes as I answered him!  All this time I waited for him to make some sort of communication with me and now I'm rolling my eyes at him?  sheesh...

Makes me wonder what my heavenly Father thinks when I've been beckoning Him for the same thing over and over and over again.  I'm certain that He doesn't roll his eyes at me.  I know that He is patient with me!  I am comforted to know that He is not bothered by my calling His name.  And it makes me want to offer the same comfort to my son(s).

You see, I believe that we set an example for our children of what they should expect from God.  I believe that they will model their view of their heavenly Father after what they see in us.  As humbling and daunting as that task is, I believe it's true.  And I would hate for him to conclude that God is bothered by his questions and wonderings and excitement.

So, as hard as it is some days, when the "hey moms" seem never-ending, I will yield to the Spirit in me and continue to answer with a kind, gentle, excited and expectant "Yes, Son?"  Because I know that's how He answers me when I come to Him with a "hey, God?".

Days Like These

It's days like these that are preceded with much hype about getting it ALL done!  You see, on days like today, my boys are in the care of some fabulous people at our church.  A couple days a week they are there and I am here...at home...soaking in the quiet.  And I'm supposed to be doing all the things I can't do when there's a 3 year old in the front bathroom who's "doooooooone!"  Or when the baby is hanging on my leg whining "I hold you...I hold you".  You see, on days like these I should be the most productive.

Some of my quiet days I am busy as a bee.  I can accomplish sooo much and I stand in my living room when I'm all finished and pose like I've conquered Mt. Everest.  Somebody...quick...take a picture!  Then I bring home the youngsters and it's all undone in a matter of moments.  I once heard that cleaning a house while you have toddlers is like shoveling snow in in a blizzard.  I feel that way sometimes. Alas, the toilet still must be scrubbed and, for heaven's sake, someone's GOT to vacuum the dog hair and grass clippings off that rug before I go crazy!

I wouldn't trade these days, or those, for anything though.  I'm content.  I think about the scripture in Colossians 3:23-24 that says "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord and not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.  It is the Lord Christ you are serving."  So, I'm working at this with ALL my heart!  Whether the "work" be scrubbing the toilet, spraying the kitchen for ants (that seem to really enjoy the baby's leftovers), vacuuming for the umpteenth time this week or just working at being peaceful and still on the couch with my eyes shut.  That IS work!  I am doing all I can to do these things as though I were doing them for the Lord.  I'm not sure that His kingdom has dirty toilets or rummaging ants but...you get the picture.  I can have joy in doing the work when I know that my reward comes from Him.

So, whistle while you work today!  I did!  And the lines I mowed in the front yard are almost straight!  Because I did it as though I were mowing the Savior's lawn. Because, let's face it...if it were up to me...we'd just live in a jungle!

Okay! I'll blog!

So, many of my friends have commented that I should blog.  Honestly, I can't imagine that anyone would give two seconds of their day to read anything I have to say. But...these friends promise me they will!  You know who you are and you can guarantee I will be testing you on the contents of my most recent post the next time I see you.

I am a mother of two beautiful (don't tell them I said that) boys.  Tanner is 3 and Denver is creeping up on 2.  I am very blessed to be able to stay home and raise them.  Although, we look forward with great anticipation to the moment around 5:30 when daddy comes home!

Most of my days consist of feeding, changing and breaking up spats between the two of them. Somedays I don't get a shower 'til noon and somedays I'm still in my pjs when Casey gets home.  But, I do the best I can.

I don't claim to be a cook or a seamstress.  In fact, I had to use my spellcheck to decide how to spell seamstress.  I can cook and I can sew but only for those I love the most. And those who I know will not give a rip if it tastes like applesauce and beans or if it tears the first time they wear it.  And those dear people are my boys.

Being a mother to boys has it's challenges.  But, most days, it's more joy than challenge. Sure, someday I'd love to have a baby girl to call my own.  But, that day may not come.  So, for now, I'll be very content to corral rowdy dirty boys and make sure no toad frogs end up in bed with them.  Although, no reptiles have managed to sneak their way into our house yet!  **knock on wood**

So, this is my blog.  I don't even know what I'm doing so...no one may even read this!  Ha!

Enjoy.