That little pop in your ears when you swallow, that tiny scratch in the back of your throat.  When your eyes begin to water and so does your nose...  
     The words, "I will not get sick.  I will not get sick..." have been playing like a broken record in my head.  The truth is, I don't have TIME to get sick.  Who does?
      Getting through the day at work yesterday,  Adam and I got the kids fed and in bed last night.  Thank God for him because I crawled under our blankets at a ridiculously early hour, then passed out cold.
     (I will not get sick though.)  
     It never fails.  That "Back to School" petri dish of germs and fun little runny noses always seem to invade this time of the year.  That, with the weather changes can make for a fun few weeks.  
    It's okay though because I will not get sick. 
    *cough, sneeze*  Please excuse me while I go lie back down with toilet paper stuck up my nose.  
    I'm not sick though.  ugh.  
    Thank You for Voting!  You are the BEST!!!  We're still moving up because of YOU!  Thank You!  Thank You!!!  XO       

     A sense of direction.  Some people are born with it, some can develop it...and then...well, there are those of us who are the "chosen ones". 
     You know who we are. 
     We aimlessly walk around a mall trying to figure out which way we came in or better yet...we wander through the dreaded mall parking lot.  Ugh...the parking lot.  What did people do before that button on their keys that honked the horn to find their car in a crowded lot?  I shudder to think.
     I remember being fifteen years old when my Dad decided to teach me how to drive.  He had a beast of an old green Ford truck that for whatever reason, he decided would be good for me to learn with.  Going to the parking lot of my high school, Dad tried to show me how to go from the clutch to the gas, while shifting gears in between. 
    When I took the wheel, I quickly began an intricate dance of nothing short than bouts of whiplash, until Dad decided it was time to take a break.  He sat quietly and rubbed the back of his neck.  Not wanting to discourage me, he decided to talk about something else.
    "You know, another important aspect of driving is being able to read a map.  You need to learn to know where you're going."
     My ability to read a map was going to be about as good as my finesse in driving a standard.  
     "Dad.  I'm never going to figure any of this out and the LAST thing I'm worried about is learning how to read a map.  Besides.  One day, someone will invent a cool thingy that will be in your car and it'll tell you exactly where to go anyway.  It will be totally awesome."
    (Did I forget to mention it was 1988?)
    Dad began to laugh and pointed back to the ignition for me to try again.  "Honey, there's no such thing as something that 'tells you how to get somewhere' and I doubt there ever will be.  Learn how to read a map."
    That was 25 years ago and I still tease him about that conversation.  Needless to say, I don't drive a standard anymore and I still hate to read a map. 
     I was reminded of my horrible sense of direction yesterday when I got lost.  Very, very lost.  Even worse...it was in the city lost.  So lost that my trusty GPS (that I had so brilliantly predicted years ago) couldn't even point me in the right way.  
    Aaaaah yes.  A sense of direction.  Some people are born with it, some can develop it...and then...well, there are
those of us who are the "chosen ones" - the ones who could actually end up being the life of the party...if only we could figure out where the party was.    
    You're the BEST for VOTING!!!  We're moving UP! 
                    THANK YOU!!! 

    Mornings are crazy.  From the time the alarm clock screams at us to wake up, to the point when we're all flying through the door...there's pretty much a level of insanity that would rival the "Running of the Bulls".
    That morning pace seems to affect the rest of the day.  At times it seems to be impossible to catch up. 
     A couple of months ago, Adam and I started something new.  Between work, school, homework, sports, etc...there was rarely a minute to have quiet time...alone.  No matter how much we love our kids, we know it's important to have time to catch up with each other without the distractions of a thousand screaming monkeys. 
     Adam decided to set his alarm ten minutes early.  At first, I wanted to kill him...but now...it's one of my favorite times of the day.  It's ten simple minutes that starts everything off on a different foot.  The house is quiet and we can actually have a conversation with big words and complete sentences.  It was shocking at first, but now it's awesome.
    My favorite thing that he did was what we now call, "Pick a Song".  He or I will scroll through his phone to choose a song without the other one seeing, then play it.  Many times it will be something that takes us back to our dating days.  The other morning he played a song from our wedding.  http://en.musicplayon.com/play?v=179678
    The coolest part about it is that the song will be in my head all day and it makes me smile.  It's something so simple, but it means so much.    
    So, if your days feel like you're running around like a mad person and you never have a minute to spare, try this ten minute trick.  You can use it to do whatever you choose...devotions, catching up, quiet time (Quiet time?  What's quiet time?)  It's important to shut the world off if only for a moment, especially the way things are these days.   
    It's a little ten minute trick that can make such a big difference.  Here, I'll post a fun little 80's song to get you started.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oc-P8oDuS0Q  (Try not to dance.)
   Have a FANTASTIC weekend and take a little time to stop and smell the roses.  XO
        THANK YOU FOR VOTING!!!  You are AWESOME!!! 

     Have you ever known anyone that had the heart of a lion?  Someone who had a unique mix of fearlessness and a relentless fight deep inside? 
     In July of 2007, our third son Preston was born and taken to the neonatal unit.  He was a few weeks early and weighed only five pounds.  Since our first two boys were both almost ten pounds at birth, Preston's tiny little body shook me to the core when I saw him.  We weren't allowed to pick him up at first, but we were able to place our hands over his tiny stomach and chest to talk and sing to him.  
    I'll never forget about one or two days into the nightmare, one of the NICU nurses watched as I sat over him crying.  She came to put her hand on my shoulder and gently said, "Mama, don't you worry a thing about this little one.  He came out fighting and he's going to keep on fighting like you won't believe.  He's already full of piss and vinegar and you're not going to believe the things he'll do someday." 
    It made me smile as I hoped for the best.  There was nothing life threatening wrong with him.  He was just born too early and he didn't want to breathe on his own yet.  When he decided to start though...holy moly.  
    It seemed like almost overnight, he became a completely different child.  We were able to hold him, feed him and love him in our arms.  When we finally took him home it was one of the happiest and most grateful days of our lives.  
    That was six years ago and I regret not knowing the name of the nurse from the NICU.  I wish I could tell her that she was right...and that he's still full of piss and vinegar.  He is the strongest and bravest little thing one could ever imagine and he's never stopped fighting since.
    This weekend he had a flag football game and was put opposite a boy that seemed to be twice his size.  Preston waited for the signal to go and when it finally came, he charged his opponent with all that he had.  It actually surprised the bigger kid at how serious Preston was.  Pret would stop at nothing until the whistle blew.    

    When the game was over, I rustled through his hair and smiled. 
   "That was a pretty big dude out there today buddy!"
   "Yeah."
   "What'd you think about it?"
   "Not much.  He was big, but I was strong."
    It stopped me in my tracks.  There I was, thinking that our job was to teach him everything about life - and as often is the case, the student became the teacher.  
    When things seem to be too much to take and challenges are almost impossible to manage...never give up.  Preston reminded me that what's more important than our doubts or fears, is to stay strong.  
    It's been six years and I continue to stand in awe of a boy that seems so small.  He surprises me to this day with his fearlessness and relentless fight inside - but above all else, I am in love with his little heart of a lion. 
Thank You again SO Much for Voting below!  We're still moving up
                  Because You're Awesome!!! 

     I don't ask for much.  Food, water, mostly happy husband and kids...I don't waste my time on delusions of a spotless home or that one day...we'll be able to come home and throw the mail on the counter without it sticking to something unidentified. 
    My limitations of acceptance are pretty high.  Except for...the toilet.  
    Living in a house full of boys, I'd have to say that I yearn...dare I say it...DREAM of the day that I can simply walk into the bathroom and mindlessly sit down.  A dry, clean toilet seat doesn't seem like much one would think...but when the days become months and the months become years...it can start to take its toll.
    The hard part is, you never really know who to blame it on.  It's been so long since we've potty trained them or followed them into the bathroom and it's hard to explain what happens when three young boys get ready for school or for bed.  At times it's nothing short of utter chaos. 
    You can hear the culpable behavior behind closed doors, between bursts of giggling..."I'll get you Luke Skywalker!  Pwshew, Pwshew!"  "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"  "You're next Darth Vader!"  (enter...the breathing)
    Last night around 2:00 am, our six year son old shuffled down the hall saying that he had "to go" and that he needed a drink of water.  This is pretty common, so shifting into autopilot, I pulled myself out of bed to help him.  Instead of going to the kitchen however, I went to the bathroom with him. 
    There it was. 
    He was standing in the dark, about two feet away from the toilet...just going to town.  I swear that his eyes were still closed and I doubt he even looked to see if the lid was open or closed.    
    "Preston!"
    "What Mommy?"  He whispered half asleep as he turned to face me.  
    Spraying everything, he got the wall, the floor...
    "No, No!  Turn back around!  Buddy, you have to get it in the toilet!"
    "Okay.  I'm done though.  G'night mommy."  I stood in what could now pass as a truck stop, while his little bare feet carried him back to bed.  
    No, I don't ask for much.  Food, water...mostly happy husband and kids...and the hope that one day, in a galaxy far, far away...our bathroom will be Springtime fresh, clean and dry.  
   One can dream...
   THANK YOU for VOTING!  We're MOVING UP because of 
                       YOU!!!