What do you do when you are different from your kids?  How do you raise them when they are completely the opposite from you...and they're all different from each other?  Let me go back a little...
     Our first son Christian, is smart.  I mean...he's like smarter than I am smart...and he's nine.  It freaks me out a little when I think about how to handle it.  My husband has this brain-teaser game that he's kept since he was young.  It's a series of numbers from one through twenty that you have to work through a maze to get into chronological order.  Adam kept it all these years because he's been able to get every number in order...except for two.  (He's a United States Air Force Academy grad and he flew the F15 E Strike Eagle.)  He has tried for decades to get those last two numbers.  
     Our son Christian found Adam's old game and thought that it looked "cool" so he sat down with it and within no time, had the whole thing done.  My hand to God it seemed like "fun" to him.  Adam almost fell over where he stood. 
    I would have thrown it in the drive-way and backed over it a few times, but Christian loved it.  Translate that into school work, thought processes and social skills...and you have my exact opposite in the form of a nine year old boy.
    It goes on down the line.  Our younger three couldn't be more different from Christian, or each other.  Our second son Ethan loves sports and can literally school me on all things football, basketball, etc.  At the age of seven, his March bracket thingy for basketball is like a foreign language to me.  It amazes him that I literally have no idea what he's talking about as he gets so excited about "his teams". 
     Our younger two are only five and four but they too - are just as different. 
     I saw an interesting post the other day regarding the differences of people who are more "right brained" verses "left brained". It stated this:
    “I am the left brain. I am a scientist. A mathematician. I love the familiar. I categorize. I am accurate. Linear. Analytical. Strategic. I am practical. Always in control. A master of words and language. Realistic. I calculate equations and play with numbers. I am order. I am logic. I know exactly who I am.”
     “I am the right brain. I am creativity. A free spirit. I am passion. Yearning. Sensuality. I am the sound of roaring laughter. I am taste. The feeling of sand beneath bare feet. I am movement. Vivid colors. I am the urge to paint on an empty canvas. I am boundless imagination. Art. Poetry. I sense. I feel. I am everything I wanted to be.”
     I couldn't be more "right brained" if you smacked that definition on my forehead.  My husband (you guessed it) could have had that description of the "left brain" written on his birth announcement. 
      I guess that's what came through to our kids.  A crazy combination of the two of us.  Who knows.  
      Maybe these differences will continue to grow as the kids get older. I can't begin to imagine what that would be like during their Jr. High and High School years and I only hope we'll be able to keep up.  
      One thing's for sure...it's amazing to see how unique their minds, personalities and nature are.  Even though they're opposite and individual from each other and from us, I couldn't dream of it any other way.  (I am a dreamer you know.)      

     "Baby?"
     "Yes."
     "You need to go and play."
     "No."
     "Baby Girl!  Go play with your team."
     "Ugh - Uh.  I don't want to."
     This has been the constant "back and forth" with Lauren Elizabeth during her t-ball practice.  She just turned four years old a couple of weeks ago and it's the first sport she's ever played.  The trouble is, she hasn't played for a minute.  She spends the whole time wrapped around my leg with a death-like grip.
     Between her three big brothers and their practices for baseball and soccer, Adam and I have yet to make it to a practice together.  We're trying to divide and conquer while getting the kids to each of their practices and games.   
     It actually hasn't been too bad since Lauren and Preston are on the same t-ball team.  We thought she would love it...especially since she's with him.  The only thing she seems to love though, is to hang onto my leg and whimper for me to pick her up.  Preston runs around having a blast while she watches him and shakes her head 'no'. 
     Tomorrow there's a soccer game and T-ball practice at the same time.  When talking to Adam about who will go where, I said, "I'll take Lauren and Pret so you won't have to hold her the whole time."
     Looking confused, he said, "Hold her?  What do you mean - hold her?"
     (You've GOT to be kidding me.)
     Slowly turning to see Lauren's reaction, she had a little grin and shrugged her shoulders. 
     Turning back towards Adam, I asked, "When you take them to T-ball, you have to hold her the whole time...don't you?"
     Trying to keep from laughing, he shook his head no.  "When I take them, I can barely keep up with her.  She runs around like a crazy person and it's hard to even get her to leave."
     Here's to hoping that she will be able to play the game as well as she can play her Mama.  Guess who's taking her to practice tomorrow?  
       (These are the pictures that Adam just showed me from his phone.  It felt like looking at pictures of a Yeti...I couldn't believe it existed.) 

     I remember the days when going to the spa was a luxury.  You know what I consider a luxury to be now?  Going to the grocery store by myself. 
     If you've never had to run an errand with a child before, I guess the best way to describe it - is to take a bag full of cats with you, walk into any store, open the bag to let the cats go...aaaaand THEN try to get your shopping done.
     Never mind the meltdowns or begging and pleading for something that they just HAVE to have...it's the whole experience.  When we go into any store with our four, five, seven and nine year olds...at times it takes an act of God for all of us to come back out alive.
      Here are some things that have saved us through the years that might come in handy for you too.  
      Let's begin at the beginning...preparation.  I once had a college professor that used to say, "Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance."  If your kids are hungry before you go shopping...good luck.  And if you're hungry when you're going grocery shopping...forget about it.  I think it might actually be a form of torture in some countries to take a young child up and down each aisle of goodies and snacks when they're starving.  It's enough to drive anyone mad.  Make sure that everyone has something in them before you go.  It doesn't hurt at times to even pack a snack for the kids to eat when you're shopping if need be. 
      To go along with the theme of preparation - it's also a good idea to make a list.  It seems like when I make a fast dash into the grocery store with the kids to get some milk, we end up dragging ourselves back out of the store with a full cart and a $195.00 gallon of milk.  Not so good.  Try (to whatever degree) to plan out what you need.  Write your list on paper, on your phone or at least make a mental note in your head.  If you know what you're going in for...chances are, you'll come back out with a much better result.
     Parking.  Common sense will tell you to park as close to the store as possible.  You can even find "New Mommy" designated spots right in front of the store at times.  This is a rookie mistake.  For years I would all but beg for the first closest parking spot and actually wait forever just to have people pull out of their space so I could get it.  Then I had kids.  There's nothing more frustrating in a parking lot than to have a car full of bouncing little ones while you're trying to unload a shopping cart.  Just for fun...let's make it a rainy day too.  The kids finally get in their seats, the shopping cart is unloaded...but...now what?  You don't want to get everybody back out so you can return the cart - (plus, it's raining)  You can't leave the kids in the car alone while you push the empty cart where it needs to go either.  What do you do?  A neat trick that I've learned is to skip the coveted parking spots closest to the store altogether and go for the areas right beside the grocery cart drop-off section instead.  It may be strange to park halfway back in the parking lot in the beginning, but when your shopping is done, the kids are loaded in the car and the bags are all packed in the back...it's so much easier (and safer) to push the empty cart into it's place when it's right next to your car. 
     Everything in between the planning and the parking lot is where the fun begins.  Hopefully the kids will cooperate and make it a good experience so you can get your errands done.  Sometimes it's good to help things along by giving them an item that they have to look for or have them be in charge of checking things off of the shopping list.  It also helps at times to give the little ones a small toy or game to play with when they're in their stroller or grocery cart. 
      There are things you can do that help make a shopping experience with your kids tolerable...and dare I say it...enjoyable.    
      I'll have to say, I try to remind myself (usually around the produce section) that the kids WILL get older and hopefully it will be easier to run around and do errands in the future.  
      Until then, we do what we have to do - to get in and get out as quickly as possible.  Herding kids (and cats...and monkeys) certainly can make for one exhausting job.               

      "I can't see."
      "Don't worry...just hold on and I'll take you where we're going."
      "I will, but I think I'm going to fall.  Are we at the airport?"
      "You're not going to fall...and I don't know if we're at the airport.  You'll see in a minute...we're almost there."
      
      Birds were somewhere to our right and I suddenly realized that it felt like we were in the woods.  The sun was shining on a perfect March afternoon but Adam had my face covered with a scarf.  I couldn't see a thing.  Holding onto his arm, I tried to feel with each step as he guided me.  
      "SURPRISE!" A combined cheer had me reach to pull down the scarf.  A group of friends were gathered and smiling wide in front of us.  My head quickly tried to process where we were and how I could have been so clueless. 
      I thought we were going to the airport.  I get sick when we have to go to the airport.  It was my 40th Birthday and for whatever reason, I was convinced that Adam was taking me somewhere for a surprise.  He knows how much I hate to fly though.  
      During my Senior year in high school, our Spanish class took a trip to Mexico.  As we sat on our flight home, the plane suddenly dropped straight down while something along the lines of, "Lo siento, no tenemos gasoline" was repeated throughout the plane.  Hanging onto my best friend, we screamed as we realized that the pilot was saying that we were running out of fuel.  The plane was dropping fast and we didn't know how much longer it would be until we met the ground. 
      He eventually pulled the plane back up and made an emergency landing in Chicago.  Staying the night, we had to get on another flight the next morning to go home to Ohio.  Needless to say...I really haven't been happy to get on a flight ever since.
      That's what I thought the blindfold was for.  Adam knew that if I couldn't tell we were headed for the airport, I wouldn't be nervous.  It wasn't until we had gotten out of the car and heard the quiet and the birds that I became curious as to where we could have been though.  It was definitely too quiet to be the airport. 
      Realizing that it was a party, I Hugged Adam.  I had the greatest mixture of happiness, surprise and disbelief as I looked around at the faces of family and friends throughout.  We were in a driveway and a whole get together had been formed with food and fun. 
      Hugging some friends, I happened to look towards the left and there they were...my best friends from home.  My childhood and lifelong girlfriends from my hometown in Ohio, were standing there in North Carolina.  I couldn't begin to believe it.  Jumping up and down and screaming like a crazy person, I tackled each one of them. 
     The day was filled with food and fun.  Family and friends came together to make it the biggest surprise in all of my forty years.  
      The greatest part was to have some of the best people from different parts of life, be in one place. 
      The friendships both new and old that have seen both highs and lows (even on airplanes) are truly the most wonderful gifts on Earth. 
      Thank You to the friends and family that made the day so special.  There are not enough words to tell you how much it meant.  Thank You as well - Marti, Stacy, Julie, Amy, Tricia, Sissy, Mom and Dad...and especially, Adam.  I'll fly with you anywhere.  I Love You - XO

     I've always heard of the expression, "Life begins at 40", but soon - I'll get to see what it really means.  This is the last day that I'll be in my thirties because yes, tomorrow, I'm turning the big 4 - 0.
     I'm writing this for my children to read someday.  God willing, I'll be lucky enough to have the next forty years on this Earth with them, but for now, I've been thinking about quite a bit - and I'm ready for the new decade to arrive. 
     What have I learned in forty years?  If I believed that I had it all figured out...I would either be naive or delusional...maybe a little of both. 
     What I DO know though, is that life is what you make of it.  There are always going to be good days and bad.  Sometimes just when you think you can't take anymore, you'll get hit with something else.  That's when your attitude makes the difference...whether it's positive or negative...that will be what counts.  
     You know that I work as a therapist.  I've seen patients with very little wrong, complain endlessly about every single thing.  I've also seen people on their death beds - smile with a peace and contentment, knowing that they've lived a good life.
     What is a good life?  Knowing who you are and what you're made of.  Having Faith, doing what you know is right.  Being good to others and making sure that you don't put yourself above all else.  
     Love your brothers and sister.  Cherish them as well as your friends.  Surround yourself with good people and really know the difference.  Sometimes you will come across a "Mean Girl" or a "Bully" but don't let them get you down.  Your siblings and your true friends will always want the best for you...as you should want for them.  Be good to them and know that they are more valuable than all the world. 
    If or when you get married, love with all that you have.  You may have the best and worst of times together...but stay strong and hold onto each other.  Marry someone that you couldn't live a day without and who you miss, even before they're gone.
     If you are blessed with children as we have been with you, be present in their lives.  Teach them to love through more than just words.  Show them by example.  They will give you many sleepless nights for several different reasons...but always let them know how much they mean to you.  There is nothing else in this world that will compare to the love you have for your child. 
      Forty years will go by in a flash.  You won't believe it, but it's true.  Be thankful for each and everyday - and truly appreciate what you have.  
      Always know that you have made our lives happier than you could ever imagine.  For your Dad and for me, you will always be the greatest gifts of all.

     When you're a little girl with three big brothers, you get kind of used to being surrounded by their "stuff".  Lauren Elizabeth has played with more trucks, footballs and action figures than one could imagine. 
     Tomorrow is her birthday.
     I can't begin to tell you how much fun it was to walk up and down the aisles searching for presents.  Baby dolls, Strawberry Shortcake, My Little Pony...the rows went on and on of pink and fluffy happiness. 
     When we turned down the next aisle, the toys stopped and suddenly, the bikes began. 
     There it was. 
     The most beautiful pink and white little bicycle and helmet ever made.  There was even a seat attached to the back to put one of her dolls in.  No longer would she have to cruise around on her older brother's Lightning McQueen ride.  She wouldn't need to wear his helmet with the cool checkered flag stickers anymore.  She would finally have her very own bike, for the first time ever.
     I smiled all the way to the check out line and it's been hard trying to hide it from her ever since.  I know that tomorrow is the big day but I can hardly wait just to see her face.
     It's impossible to believe that it's been four years since we went to the hospital for her arrival.  She has turned out to be the most amazing combination of "All girl" with a tomboy spirit.  Not only can she keep up with all three of her brothers...I have a sneaky suspicion that by this time tomorrow, they'll be trying to keep up with her...with her favorite doll flying in the back seat and all.
      Happy Birthday Baby Girl!  We Love You!

     I've mentioned it before, but my hometown in Ohio pretty much believes in God, family and football...sometimes not necessarily in that order. 
     Where I'm from, you're born with a string of Buckeyes around your neck and the confection of choice is a "drop you to your knees" concoction of peanut butter and chocolate - representing the world's greatest nut. 
      "O -H!" Can often be heard at any given time, from any given place, which acts as a rally cry (sometimes even a mating call) for the desired party to yell back, "I - O!"
      Yes, I was raised with the game of football, sprinkled in with basketball, wrestling and baseball.  Having three boys right in a row, I could all but envision them in their huddles together, playing for their home team. 
      Then it happened.  The game of soccer.  
      Regardless of my upbringing...I actually should LIKE soccer.  My Dad spent years growing up in Europe where it was the game of choice.  By the time he came back to the States, he was pretty good and even played through college. 
      I on the other hand, had never even SEEN a soccer game until I went to college.  I'll never forget it...I stood there watching with a confused stare as everyone ran around with no helmets or pads.  It looked unbelievably exhausting and seemed to be impossible to follow.
      Fast forward to the present day.  Our second son Ethan, (you guessed it) loves the game of soccer.  He begs to play at any chance and can't wait for the new season to begin.  He constantly asks how many days, weeks, even months are left until he can play again.   
    This Spring when the time came for sports sign ups, we put our oldest son back on his baseball team, our youngest son and little girl were signed up to be on the same T-ball team...but Ethan wouldn't budge.  We tried everything - from trying to convince him of how cool it would be to play ball with his brothers and sister, to how much fun he would have on opening game day.  There's always a parade where the kids get to ride on floats or in the back of trucks and throw tons of candy. 
    Nothing mattered.  All he wanted to do was to play soccer.  
    His first game was on Saturday.  The five of us watched as he took the field with the biggest smile.  The whistle blew and the game was on.  He couldn't have been happier.  He ran and kicked, went this way and that, as all of the kids on each team were focused on the same thing...the goal.
    Last season, I found myself getting more "into" the game than I ever had before.  Not that I understand most of it, but when I tried, it became pretty obvious what the objective was.  In the simplest of terms...you want your kid's team to get the ball in the goal to make a point...and when YOUR kid actually gets the ball...forget about it. 
    Me...the most (what seems to be) un-soccer mom in America, can't stop myself from screaming and jumping up and down.  I'm THAT mom who is yelling, "GO BABY!!!  RUN!!!  RUN!!!  RUUUUUUUUN!!!  KICK IT IN!!!  THAT'S my BOY!!!" 
      I can act like I don't like the sport as much as I want to...but at the end of the day...I'm the biggest fan on Earth. 
      Ethan's team lost on Saturday (by a LOT) but it was one of the best games ever.  
     My favorite part was when he kicked the ball and missed the goal, then looked our way to find our reaction.  Adam yelled, "It's okay Buddy, keep going!" then gave him a thumbs up.  He nodded and quickly returned the gesture as he ran back up the field. 
      My football, basketball, wrestling and baseball heart grew a hundred times over as I leaned against Adam's side.  
     I shook my head and grinned saying, "That's our boy...
the soccer player." 
     Go Baby, Go!  XO

   When the phone rings in middle of the day and it's your child's school calling, it usually means only one of two things...your kid did something wrong, or something bad happened TO your kid.  They're usually not just calling to say "hi". 
     When our phone rang yesterday, a pleasant voice calmly said, "Hi, this is the school nurse." 
      oh no. 
      "I have your son here and he's complaining of an upset stomach."
      I felt a pit grow wondering which of our two boys could be sitting in the school nurses office, doubled over.
      "Is it Christian or Ethan?"
      "Christian."  
      "Did he throw up?"
      "No, no.  He didn't throw up, but since he's in the third grade and I've never seen him before, I thought it was worth the call - seeing how he's not often sick.  Oh, he wants to talk to you..."
       "Mommy?"  Christian's voice was little and weak.
       "Yes baby."
       "I don't feel good."
       "Alright - I'll be right there little man.  Hang on okay?"
       "Kay.  I'll just go up to class and wait then."
       "No, NO Christian...WAIT!"
       He had already handed the phone back to the nurse.  Just before she hung it up, I heard her try to coax him to stay.  This was Christian though.  The child who wouldn't miss a minute of class for anything. 
      Grabbing our two younger kids, I jumped in the car to rush to the school.  Haunting images of Christian throwing up all over his classroom began to flash through my mind.  The stage was set for disaster.  
      My chest pounded as memories came back to my days in school.  I kept telling my teacher that I didn't feel well and she kept making me go back to my desk.  On the last attempt, I begged her to let me go to the bathroom, but right in the middle of her refusal, I threw up all over her.  I covered my teacher, her desk, the floor and everywhere else.  I can still hear her screaming to this day - not to mention how embarrassed I was in front of my class. 
     (Come on...come on...we're almost there...)  I swear that we hit every red light.  When I was about three minutes away, my cell phone rang.  Looking at the caller ID, I knew.  
     "Is he okay?"
     "Well...are you almost here?"
     "Yes...in like...three minutes...Is he alright?"
     "He's fine.  I tried to get him to stay here with me, but he really wanted to go back to class.  He's on his way back though because I guess he just threw up everywhere."
     "Was he in the hall?"
     "No...he made it back to his room and got sick all over his desk."
      Ohhhhh no.
      "I'm almost there now...I'll be one sec."
      Pulling the kids out of their car seats, we raced into the school.  I waited up front and wondered where he was.  Our second son Ethan was already there waiting with his backpack.  
      "MOM!  Christian threw up EVERYWHERE!" 
      Ethan is in the second grade...a whole year below Christian.  Word travels fast. 
       Finally, he came out with the kind and pleasant nurse.  She had her arm around our teary eyed, pasty faced, puke covered, son.  He smelled like a frat house.  He LOOKED like a frat house.
      I peeled his wet sweater off trying not to let any residual vomit drop to the floor and I pulled him towards me, just wanting to get him home.
      Handing a bag to us for our journey back, the nurse gave Christian a warm look and we were off.  
      "Are you okay Buddy?"  
      "yeah."
      "Do you feel better, worse, or the same?"
      "I don't know...the same I guess."
      "Mom?"
      "Yes Baby."
      "I puked everywhere."
      The younger three kids started to giggle.
      "I know baby.  I'm sorry."
      "Yeah.  The teacher jumped up and made all of the kids run out of the room really fast."
       Childhood memories flooding back again...it broke my heart to know what he was feeling now too.
       Shutting his eyes and leaning his head back, he put his hands up to his face.  I wanted to hold him and tell him how everything would be alright...everybody gets sick...these things happen.
       "Mom?"
       "Yes baby."
       "It was kind of cool."

       I guess in all of it, the biggest thing that I forgot to remember was that he was...in fact...a boy.  Get well soon little man.    

   So it begins.  Christian officially had his appointment with the orthodontist and his molds/impressions were taken.  I still have a hard time believing that a NINE year old is going to an orthodontist.
   As we sat in the waiting room, a cute girl named Sarah called him back and Christian tried to hide his smile.  Looking towards me, he motioned that he would be okay on his own as he followed her to the other room.  I stayed and waited with the three younger ones, wondering how everything would go.  
   A little over a half an hour later, I was called back.  
  "Mom!  It was COOL!  They squished this stuff up in my teeth and I got to pick which flavor it would be.  I chose cotton candy.  It was Awesome!" 
    He seemed to be pretty unaffected by the whole thing...excited actually...at the thought of going down this road. 
    The orthodontist explained that they were only fitting him for a retainer at this point, but he would have to wear it constantly day and night.  
    Thoughts of keeping up with the retainer and a nine year old flashed through my mind.  I was instantly revisited with the gut wrenching memory of going through countless bags of garbage in the high school cafeteria in search of the one I accidentally dumped with my lunch tray.
     Yes, in three weeks time, we'll get called back in for Christian's shiny new retainer.  I don't know how many months he'll have to wear it, but I hope it will be a painless experience all the way around.