You Are Special Today

Have you ever come across a friends tradition you thought was really cool and really wanted to steal?
For example, the Greek. They have some seriously cool traditions! Incredible party people "Opa!"

Or some people go boating every summer. Or Disneyland is another.

One of the coolest families I ever got the privilege to grow up with, the Lockharts, held a ton of traditions.
One thing you need to know about the Lockharts. They're grounded on tradition and family and most of all, God.
Now I grew up with a lot less tradition, but we had some, nonetheless.


But when we received this plate as a wedding gift from the Lockhart's grandparents we got an entire inherited history that they passed on to us.
To be honest, I didn't know what the plate was or what it meant when I opened the gift. I obviously knew there was something there, but what... I had no idea. When I mentioned it to any one of the Lockharts (and trust me, there are a quite a few) they spoke with reverence and said "IT'S TRADITION!!!!"

Every birthday from here on was not meant for restaurants, but meant for having a close intimate dinner with brothers and sisters and mom and dad and the meal you thought was the best you had all year. But that wasn't the best part... you got to have the plate. The red plate that only comes out on someones birthday. The plate that reminds you... YOU ARE SPECIAL TODAY.

I must admit, the Lockharts, Del and Nina, gave us one of my favorite things. A wool blanket that saves me every year when the temperature drops below 0. The Lockharts parents {(Pop and Gram) that used to bring huge brown bags of popcorn filled with surprise candy bars for each one of us kids} ....gave us tradition.

I'm Home

I just recently had a conversation with a friend about love. And we spoke about that feeling you get when you're so comfortable with someone it just feels like... you're home.
I know you know. And I just felt like bringing it up again.

For those of us who have truly, deeply, purely loved... there's no word quiet like... home.

"I may have loved, and I may have lust, but there's no one who has ever brought me home until I met you." Poetic, right?

I remember meeting Luke and okay, I'll admit. I didn't remember his name. How horrible am I?! But on our first encounter, we were pretty smitten. And I say that with twenty twenty hindsight. I don't know if this is how he remembers it, but I spent the evening fully aware of where he was and what proximity I was to him. I spent most of my time watching him (which I'm fairly certain he still doesn't know) and the rest giving my tokens to him *we were at a funplex* because I'm not a game person and have never been.
We pretty much hit it off and when he asked for my phone number I was floored. (I was not allowed to call any member of the opposite sex...my parents are old school)
I had to wait for him to call....Yep, it sucks!
But my point is not our first date, or the first thing he ever bought me, or our first kiss (which by the way has it's own story)... the point is that... he was the one and only one I could ever really be myself. I spill my guts. I let him know me inside and out and he still loved me. He loves me when I'm unlovable. And that .. to me... is Home.
So back to twilight... Christina Perri just released an amazing song called "A Thousand Years" and its on the new Breaking Dawn track list.
The new song?... um look down



Well, maybe I'm just feeling a little romantic... but whatever the reason... I do confess, I am a fan of Twilight. Yes, I agree, they're not for an intellectual read. But, it's an interesting love story.

Christina Perri - A Thousand Years (Official Lyric Video)

Jack

The Diary of Fred and Ginger

I don't know when or why I started calling Anna-Claire, Fred. It's not like she needs anymore nicknames. A C, ACE, A C KAT, Anna-Claire, Hey YOU, Monkey, and Fred. Well, she's never been that keen on it, until I told her she could either call me Ginger or Wilma (I don't need to explain this, do I?). And now that the kids are all in school, it's just her and I all morning. Until she goes to school at 12:30.
To be honest, one on one time in a house of five kids is practically impossible. So today was like a breath of fresh air. (For both of us)
We dropped the kids off, left the car at school, and walked to Main Street. We had bagels with cream cheese, Fred threw a penny in every fountain, checked out Culinary Corner, antique stores, and all the pink things we could find. You know, cause pink is (according to Fred) the best color. And when Main Street no longer held our attention, we walked (rather, Ginger walked, Fred hitched a ride on Ginger's back) to Lincoln Park.
Okay, so we did indulge and hit the McDonalds for a happy meal and said hello to our friends at Johnson's House of Flowers before it was time for school. But this was one of the best days I've ever had with my little Fred.

Quotes of the Day...

"Can we do this ever day?"

After hearing a motorcycle behind her "I did NOT fart!"

"Come on, Ginger!" "Let's go, Fred"

Hold's up an antique pink dress "I'm totally into this."

"LETS GO TO SCHOOL!"

No Throwing Rocks!!!

Cody is my middle child. He's the one that makes me pray for patience or calgon (whichever comes first). And he's typically in trouble eighty-five percent of his life.

So when my daughter came in and said Cody had thrown a rock at some kid. I did what I always do. I took a deep breath and screamed "CODY!!!!"

Now, to his defense, he did tell the truth and fessed up in throwing the rock. But he tacked on what the other girls had not. The child to which he had thrown a rock at had done a bit of name calling and thrown a rock at him first... and with apparently accurate aim.
Now, no... Cody wasn't off the hook. He got his punishment in full force. But to the child who was, according to Cody, much taller and rode an orange bike, I felt the need to enforce the same lesson.
No, I don't want revenge and I don't think Cody was justified in what he did. But if there is some little prick running around name calling and throwing rocks, I fully intend to take him home to his mother and allow her to install the same set of manners that should've already been taught. Yes, I realize that if some strange woman came to my door with my child accusing them of something they had done, I would be mortified. But I do think that at some point, you need to know that your child is terrorizing the neighborhood and that it's not appreciated.

No, I didn't find the little squirt due to a terenchal downpour. But if I see him... make no mistake, I have no qualms taking him directly home.

Okay.... I'll climb off my soapbox now.

Child's Prayer

Tonight, Luke and I and our five kids were chlllin' on our back patio when we heard sirens.

Anna-Claire came running up to me very upset. "Mom, did you hear that? What should we do?"

My response "You pray for them."

She bowed her head and looked at me...and with my help... she said this prayer

"Dear Jesus,

Please be with the person who might be hurt. Help the ambulance workers too. Be with the policemen who might be chasing a bad guy. And Jesus, be with the firefighters who might be putting out a fire.
Amen"

Anna-Claire gave me the biggest smile...cause she knew.... there really was something she could do...

A 5 year old's prayer :)

The 3 M's

Sometimes, you just gotta let it all go.

Last night I did exactly that.
I've recently had to process a lot of information that I just don't know what to do with. (More to come on that later... but not now) So, rather than continue to teeter back and forth about what to do, I decided to cook.
Since my favorite place on earth is Maui,and I'm not going there anytime soon, I chose the next best thing. A Maui inspired dinner.
The Menu -

(1) Macadamia Nut Mahi Mahi - An A list item. I give it 5 stars.

(2) Mai Tai's - God bless the inventor of those!

(3) Michael Buble' Not exactly Maui material, but I love him... so he fits.

There is quite possibly nothing better than an exceptional dinner followed by an evening dance in the kitchen.
Yep, that was fun. Tonight -pineapple pork chops.

Grenade

I'd catch a grenade for you
Throw my hand on a blade for you
I'd jump in front of a train for you
You know I'd do anything for you
I would go through all this pain
take a bullet straight through my brain
Yes I would die for you, baby

But you won't do the same

After hearing this song a couple times, my husband announced this was so true about me. And I had to think for a second, cause being accused of this sort of sounds like being called a heartless shrew.
Now granted, the verses in the song definitely depict a heartless, should be hospitalized for some serious mental problem, crazy chic. And that was NOT what my husband meant.

He was basically pointing out that I probably wouldn't run to jump in front of a flying bullet for him if I saw one in time to catch it. He was right!

But when I told him he was right, he got seriously offended.
It took me some time to think it through though. Why on earth would I, given the opportunity, not try to save my husband?

There must be an answer to this question.
Looking for clues, I thought of the Titanic. "Women and children on the boats first." Okay, so there's that. But that's not what I would consider a good excuse.

So I went with the big guns.
"Luke, tell me we where in the Bible does it say that a wife has to die for her husband?"

Luke "Ummmm..."

Me "Exactly! It doesn't. In fact the opposite. It says a husband is to love his wife the way Christ loved the church. And what did Christ do for the church? He DIED! So this means that YOU have to DIE for ME! Case in point - that song is very accurate!"

Luke "Okay, fine. Actually, it would be pretty messed up if you saved me instead of me saving you."

And now "Grenade" by Bruno Mars is my husband's ringtone on my phone.

My Guy!

Where to begin....

Almost 2 years ago, Justin had a seizure. A bad one. It was one of the single most scary things I've ever witnessed. (And I've seen this child with a fishing lure dangling from his eyeball)
My child didn't know who I was, didn't know his name, didn't know where his room was, and couldn't even figure out how to put on his own clothes. He vomited several times before going and getting under a pile of laundry. When I took him to the ER they ruled it a seizure, and after several tests... which he doesn't remember... we scheduled an EEG (electroencephalography).
We met with a neurologist that basically told us we get a freebie, but if it happens again... meds!

Well, he never passed out again. Thank God... cause that was terrifying! But he just progressively got ... how to say it... not right. The thing is... looking back is so 20/20 hindsight. It's been so gradual that I didn't notice right away. But when I realized that he couldn't figure stuff out anymore, I really thought he was just being a twit. Holding a conversation became SO one sided and single tracked it was irritating. There were times that he would do everything so slowly it was like he was either a zombie, or on dope. (he's not) But it really felt that way. Other times he's really cool. He cracks good jokes, he helps out around the house, he's in all other ways a pretty normal kid. Until he has an episode. He just... isn't there anymore. Doesn't get it.

Since we began Messiah Lutheran (awesome school, amazing teachers and staff) he's been so stressed out about being with kids his own age, tests, grades, not being home... that his weird behavior became serious. So I scheduled an appointment with a pediatrician.
Yeah.... umm... one doctor is not just as good as the next.

She basically said she thought he was still having seizures and referred us back to the initial neurologist (brain doc). I HATE when they do that! "I've got no clue.... you're google is as good as mine... go see someone else!"

And so we did.
He goes... "Well, two years ago, when he had the EEG there was a lot of seizure activity..."

STOP!!!!!!!!!!

What the hell did he just say?! This is the first I've heard of it AFTER TWO YEARS..... and don't worry, I was so pissed off I called my mom and screamed at her, and then I called Luke and screamed at him until my voice was hoarse.

No wonder we've been going freaking backwards!!!!!!

My child... the one that I didn't have to worry about. My child... the one that understood everything. My child.... the genius that was reading 4th grade books at age 6. My child.... has been fading away and no one could tell me why.

Someone referred me to Dr Patrice Whistler.

We had to book this appointment in way advance (clue #1)

When we arrived, we waited for 50 minutes to see the doctor (clue #2)

When she walked in.... I handed her a printed sheet of things that I'd been noticing about Justin for a while. She took it, asked to keep it, started writing notes all over it.... and as we talked she rummaged through her computer to find his EEG report (to which she read to me)... something I'd never heard. My stomach dropped when I heard it. It was like a punch to the gut when I heard the diagnosis "epilepsy" . This had been sitting in some back archive file for two years and I'd never heard this.

All I can think is... how long has his brain been re-routing and cross firing and playing Pearl Harbor and Beaches of Normandy? It's been WWII inside there for how long?

Dr. Whistler was so awesome... she laid out a huge plan and a series of test, new sleep EEG, psych education, PTOT assessment, labs and a pediatric neurologist referral .... the works.
It finally feels good to be heading in the right direction with someone who KNOWS what they're doing.

4AM

Luke "Kimberly, I need help."

Me "Okay, what did you do?"

Luke "It was stupid. Don't ask."

Me "This needs stitches. Did you pass out?"

Luke "Only a couple times."

Me "The next time Cody does something stupid for no good reason, I'm going to remind you of this."

Don't worry. I patched him up with butterfly stitches and superglue. Unfortunately, I'm not the most gracious nurse at four in the morning so some jeering was involved. Needless to say, Luke's sworn off playing with knives in the middle of the night.

In Pieces

I think I should just admit it. I feel like a failure as a parent. I've homeschooled my kids for several years. Which sort of feels like confessions of civil war.
Now that all five of my kids are going to private school, I've been able to see the areas that I seriously let them down. I'm not the sharpest pencil in the box, and I have my blond moments, but I thought I was holding my own. And perhaps against the public school system I was, but not this school.
Justin is having stress seizures without blacking out. It's kinda like he's coherent one minute and the next, if you ask him what color his shirt is, he'll say " 7!"

Bethany has dyslexia. Which, to anyone who has a child like this, is one of the most frustrating things imaginable. (Spell the word "four"..... fore, for, fuor, fr, fer, orf, erof, four.

Dulcey has a smashed finger, thanks to Cody. Which looks horrific, and may need more treatment than just a bandaid. (we'll see)

Anna-Claire has a finger that is so bad, she's lost most the flesh off of the tip and half of the nail. I've made her soak it twice a day (crocodile tears), and neosporin and it still looks gruesome.

As for me, I've been in the ER, I'm in pain, and now I'm pretending it's all been just a bad dream. I'm cranky, and irritable, and I've spent half of the grocery bill on gas just to trek across town several miles to pick up and drop off one child or three or two, or whoever is suppose to be getting in my car.
I feel like a new mother again. You know that moment when you bring your first child home from the hospital and it's like 11pm and you're exhausted and the kid looks at you and you look at it and think "Well.... what now?"

I just want to cry.

PUSH IT!

As you all know, Luke and I embarked on a dash that took us through an obstacle course, blood infested mud, fire and all three miles of it at a breath sucking elevation of roughly 10,000 ft elevation.
Okay, so the beginning wasn't so bad... the junkyard (jumping over cars) was kind of a joke but still fun. The hay bales weren't the hay bales I had in my head- super easy. Hell's hills were exactly that... and wow, there was just no real way to run it the entire stretch (since you can't freaking breathe!!!!) But once I hit the downhill, it was actually easy. Like skiing downhill, I just let gravity take me and coasted the whole way down. The "6ft wall" I had been so nervous about was actually a series of 3 3ft walls. (To which I slung my foot over and saddled).
Now, I'm not saying it was easy. But it very well could've been done by anyone. I could've princess pranced the whole freaking thing. There were old ladies with "titanic survivor" t-shirts that could walk this sucker. Yeah, the mud is gonna make you get down and dirty, and the walk the plank is no freakin joke (you fall, you're gonna break something- hopefully not vital), but I really thought it was gonna be more of a challenge.
Now, don't get me wrong. I was definitely sore the next couple of days. Ironically in the one and only place I don't like to workout. I like my calves. They're not firm, they're tiny, and they have a perfect curve. That said... they're completely useless. And they were screaming at me all week.

So, this week. As I've completely recovered from warrior dash, a good friend of mine. The one and only, Kathy, who convinced me to do the warrior dash in the first place.... gives me this website.
A website that makes the warrior dash, the medal I earned, the t-shirt I bought, and the photos I took, look like a freaking theme park ride as Disneyland!!!!!!!
So... of course, I'm doing the warrior dash again next August.... but....


I'm doing the TOUGH MUDDER in July! (average finish time 2.5 hrs)http://toughmudder.com/info/


The thing about it is..... it benefits wounded soldiers. Like I said in my Monday motto.... "do it even though it's hard, cause there's always someone who wishes they could" Yeah, it's gonna hurt, and take a lot of energy and I'm gonna wanna quit at some point, but I'm going to finish this... because I know I can and I've been blessed enough to have the ability.

Time to step up that 3.5 mile run, 50 burpees a day, thank you bodypump training 10 hour days, BRING ON THE PAIN!!!!!

Being Neighbors in Crime

So here's the deal. For the last five years, I've gone down to the local fireworks tent. Bought over forty dollars worth of cheap sparklers, fountains, whistlers, and ground blooms.
And for the last five years, our neighbors have brought out every assorted bottle rocket, and flying whatevers that put the city park's display to shame. They've practically blown the paint off of nearby trucks and scared the *you know what* out of small children (including my own). All for a lot less dough than my lousy attempt at patriotic pride.
So this 4th of July, we're doing our neighborly duty and getting *out of state* fireworks. At this point, its practically tradition to break the law on the day the Declaration of Independence was signed. Makes perfect sense to me. And it's a whole lot cooler!

Not to worry, we keep a five gallon bucket of water and a hose ready at all times.

It's Not So Bad

I've recently stepped up my workout routine. Crazy? I used to think so.
With dirty looks and cursing those who did this, I went running. Not the first time ever, but the first time with an actual goal. The first day was two miles of complete torture. I think I walked half of it. I cried half and I swore people who did this in the name of "fun" were insane.
Yet, I did it again. And again. And again. And again. Now, I find that I can't get enough.
Not only am I finally able to eat that french fry that I haven't in three years, I'm finally dropping those last ten vanity pounds without losing muscle and hair.
I know ... it sounds like total ridiculous torture to someone who doesn't run... but I swear, I never thought I could do this. Trust me, it gets easier so much faster that I thought it could.

On an important note... good running shoes, athletic insoles, and finding someone who can watch you and correct your running form is a major deal. Shin splints are no fun at all!

Now... my goal is to kick freakin arse at the warrior dash in august. Yeah... I know. I guess I've got a competitive streak that runs deep, but only seeps out when called to.

EXPOSED

I'm sick of saying I'm a writer with nothing to show for it. I've currently written a 381 page novel with a sequel to come. I would lie if I didn't say I didn't love my characters more than anything else. Writers are weird like that I suppose. Well here's my query. A query, btw, is a one page report on the entire story. The most difficult thing about a book. The Pitch. The Line. The BS between whether its works or doesn't.
So here I am.
Exposed.


Genevieve Marshall, Evy, is just trying to make it through life without going crazy. She’s tormented by wild memories with strangers and major migraines that no one can seem to explain. She’s grasping at straws until one day she finds Adam, the stranger from her memories. (not to mention, the living pain killer) She follows him (well, who wouldn’t) and demands answers to once and for all put to rest these visions.

Undead, Adam Fischer, is trying to hide from the one thing he can’t, love. Love stinks at all angles! It’s only created misery and heartache. But a guy can never catch a break. He finds himself not only drawn to Evy, like a moth to a torch, but journeying through their tragic and ugly past together, yet again. The one thing he told himself he wouldn’t do, of course.

As they revisit his historic journals, Evy learns that Adam hasn’t died for over two hundred years and that she’s been coming back to him throughout the past. But she also gets the doozy of finding out that someone’s been stalking them both throughout time as well. From their first encounter with death in Germany, 1786, to a present day high speed chase through the canyons of Colorado, they find themselves racing to prevent another one of life’s delay’s, DEATH!

This novel is the perfect example of how the phrase “Death cannot stop true love, but only delay it for while” is no fun at all.

Currently, a sequel is in the works.

If It Were You...

You know that "I know I'm forgetting something important" feeling?
I got home and went through everyone's schedules today. Now I know that Friday night is a disaster area and the rest of the weekend just took a steep dive.

Okay... so how do I do this?
Thursday 6pm - 8pm (Adult classes)
Thursday 7pm (leave for Delta orchestra practice... stay for who knows how long, get home late)

Friday 8am-5pm (work at JHOF)
Friday 4:30am-7:30pm (Luke's overtime)
Friday 5:30pm (leave for Delta Spring Concert, get home who knows when... be driven nuts in the car with several children)
Friday 6pm (leave for Denver)
Friday 7pm (game night)

Saturday (Denver trip to the zoo... come home )
Saturday (install a well needed patio)

Sunday 10:30-12:00 (church)
Sunday 1pm (leave for Montrose concert)

Next Friday is shaping up to be worse with a concert in Ouray.

The Denver trip is obviously out of the question. Game Night cancelled. Ditching adult classes (kinda important).
I understand the responsibility of being part of a group performance and the problems it causes when someone can't make it. I honestly wish we could get the flu so bowing out would be excusable. That sounds horrible I realize, but what can I say? I'm so not happy about any of this.

What would you do if it were your child?

Verizon

Me "Luke, my phone just randomly shuts off. The battery isn't dead. It just shuts off the power."

Luke "Maybe there's a recall."

After hanging out with me for two hours and watching it do it twice Luke goes, "That ain't right."

So I go looking online. I can't find a recall or anything about it.

Luke says "Go to the nice verizon store. The eastgate one."

I go "Actually, if I dress up and look hot, they're really nice to me at the snobby store."

Luke goes "Well, use your booty. As long as it works for you, right?"


DROPS MOUTH OPEN WITH A POP!

TP Time

On the phone at walmart. Friends will testify, this is not a good idea for me. I'm too blonde to shop and talk on the phone at the same time.
But it was Luke, so I answered it.
"I'm at walmart. Do you need anything?" Currently imagining the security camera personnel watching me walk in circles through the store like a pacman ghost.
Luke "No. Do we need toilet paper?"
Me "I really don't know. Where are the coloring books?"
Luke "The toy section. Maybe you should get some anyways. When in doubt..."
Me "The toy section!!! Okay. Anything else?"
Luke "Nope."

Arriving home, the kids run out to the car. As we unload the car Justin asks "Mom, why did you get more toilet paper?"
Me "Um, we could always use more."
Justin "But, there's nowhere to put it all!"
I walk in to inspect the situation in the downstairs bathroom. And wouldn't you know it, he was right. There's a ton of toilet paper stuffed under the sink. I shrug and think, "Oh well, better than running out."

Tonight I sit down in my own bathroom and lo and behold, whose out of toilet paper?

For Once In My Life...

It's not every day that I get to go to a concert. Heck, I can't even remember the last concert I went to. And to be honest, if I wanted to listen to the music, the album recording is a LOT better. But I couldn't help myself last December when I found out that Michael Buble' would be in Denver.
I got online and fought for those tickets relentlessly. (followed by dancing around the kitchen when I finally got them)

As the months passed, our schedule got tighter and tighter. It began looking almost impossible to make. I was seriously contemplating giving them away or selling them on ebay. But my more childish selfish side won and we came up with an air-tight plan to get to Denver, go to the concert, and get home. (By saying air-tight, I mean could've fallen through at any second.)

After hours of running, packing, and traveling we made it. Michael Buble' was fantastic. Of course, this may all be in prejudice that I, in fact, haven't been to a concert in so long I wouldn't know a good one from a bad one. Or the fact that it was Michael freakin Buble'! Either way, I had a blast!

This kinda thing should be a "to do" on every couples list. Make plans and pull absolutely every possible string to finally follow through.

Oh, and P.S. I got a t-shirt. (Luke didn't want one.)