Seinfeld, anyone?

Usually my life is pretty ordinary, and I try fairly hard to make it funny...until this past weekend.

After we opened presents on Christmas morning, we headed over to Kirk and Amanda's for a leisurely day of Wii playing and eating. Amanda fixed a "real" Christmas meal...you know, the kind grown-ups make. It was delicious. If I've said it once, I've said it a million times, but when you don't have family nearby, your friends really do become your family. They are ours, and we love them.

We loaded up on Friday and made a quick trip to Searcy for Christmas with my family. I always joke that when we all get together (18 in total) it's the equivalent of me X 1,000 (super scary, right?) It's SO loud. Sometimes I seriously leave there with a sore throat because I have to scream for anyone to hear me. My poor mother.

Sunday was a crazy day. I sang at both services at church and then headed north to Bella Vista to sing at a wedding. The bride, Candice, is the little sister of my lifelong friend, Julie. I've known Candice since she was a toddler. (Wow, that makes me sound WAY old.)

It was really just family, plus a few other guests. Most everyone there was either in the wedding party or had some sort of job. I was no exception; not only was I singing, but I was also running the sound system. I must say that it was the first time I've ever pressed play, grabbed a mic, adjusted the mic volume, changed the CD volume, and sang ALL at the same time. WHEW! BTW, that glass chapel has amazing acoustics. I'll sing there again any day.

Perhaps the funniest part of the entire event was the fact that they were already married. The person that married them couldn't come to the ceremony on Sunday, so he married them on Saturday. They got a stand-in for Sunday, an actor if you will.

He was actually a friend of Julie's, who did an amazing job. I was just about ready to start confessing my sins to him before I realized that he was just an attorney. He wore a nice suit, spoke with a soft voice, and carried around this official looking black folder. SO funny. He turned out to be the city attorney of Elm Springs, so instead of seeking spiritual counseling, Ken unloaded all of his city complaints with this unsuspecting guy before he knew what hit him. I couldn't help but laugh. It was all so much like a Seinfeld episode.

Ken lucked out of the groomsmen/usher/greeter/door opener job and settled to be the videographer. He was more than thrilled. :)

Candice looked beautiful, and her husband seems like a great guy.



The boys and me...

My sweet husband who didn't complain once that I was dragging to a wedding of someone he really didn't know. What a guy.

After the wedding, we headed to the reception at Julie's house in East Fayetteville. While we were there, Julie gave both Levi and Benjamin blue jay Webkinz for Christmas. Levi named his blue jay "Peckers." I've never seen Ken laugh so hard.

Oh yes, and on the way home, Levi threw-up on the side of the road.

And the saga continues...

I need a Silent Night

Amy Grant stole my idea...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KRSSsNbF29I

Anyway, that's exactly how I feel. Good job, Amy.

What a crazy weekend. Benjamin had his Christmas Play with his preschool on Friday night. As always with Mr. Benj, I was worried that he would even wear the clothes and the special hat they had made for everyone. It's the unknown that is hard for him, so we've been talking about it for weeks...about how we were going to get dressed in our special clothes, go on stage with everyone, and sing our songs.

Doesn't he look handsome?


He did super. I was so proud of him. Every time we have a victory like this, I'm reminded of how far we've come in a year and a half of HARD work. He's worth every bit of it, and I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat if I had to.

The Cub Scout party was at our house on Saturday afternoon. We had 32 people in here, so it was a bit crowded, but overall went really well. Levi still loves Cub Scouts.

Yesterday was the Christmas pageant at church. Levi sang a song with his friend Gretchen that seriously made me cry for 45 minutes straight. I don't think I've ever been so proud of him. For two 8-year-olds, those kids can downright SING!


My grandfather, whom we called Daddy Bill, used to lead music at his little Methodist church (the one without the indoor bathroom I've talked about before.) I couldn't help but think how proud he would have been of Levi last night. He loved to sing. He sang, whistled, or hummed all the time, kinda like I do. He died when I was in the 6th grade, but I could feel his presence with me last night. I still miss him.

Tonight is the Tyson Christmas party at my house. Am I the party hosting fool this year or what? Tonight we should have 30+ people, and I must admit even Ken is freaking out a bit. It's so funny watching him make a grocery list and plan for something like this. He's doing a good job.

This afternoon is Benjamin's wellness check-up and to make sure he still needs speech therapy. Well, he obviously does, but we have to go anyway. We've been talking about that for at least two weeks, so I think it will go smoothly.

This is likely my last post before Christmas, so MERRY CHRISTMAS to you!

Ah, Christmas Memories

I've been saying for years now that instead of shopping nonstop for weeks, pulling an all night gift wrapping session, and stressing out until I make myself vomit, that I would really, REALLY, like to take a trip...a mini vacation, if you will. I don't care where I go, and I really don't care who goes with me. If you want to go, come on...let's go.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Christmas. I really do. I love to stay up late on Christmas Eve, and I absolutely love to see the kids' faces as they wake up the next morning. It really is one of my favorite parts of being a parent. It takes me back to 1981...

So, bam. I'm 6. We lived in a REALLY small, 2-bedroom house (OK, single-wide trailer) and there were 6 of us total. It was cozy, as we all say now in our era of HGTV. I shared a twin bunk bed with my little brother. For Ken's sake, let me stop here and reinforce that I was SIX, not 21. This story grosses him out beyond belief.

Anyway (stay with me, Ken) it's Christmas Eve. I would be so anxious for Santa to come that I'd kick Dustin out of bed numerous times throughout the night to go "check" to see if Santa had come yet. He'd come back every time and sleepily say, "Heather, he hasn't come yet." Great, I'd think to myself. This is gonna take a while.

I would, of course, and to Dustin's relief, eventually go to sleep only to wake up the next morning to a Christmas wonderland. I'm still not sure how my mom did it. We obviously didn't have a lot of money but she somehow transformed our field-cut evergreen from a barren pile of cedar sticks into a colorful, present filled oasis with a magical glowing presence. I would just stand there, awe struck for a few minutes, and soak it all in. How in the world did Santa manage to get all of these beautifully wrapped boxes under our tree without me hearing anything? After all, we didn't even have a chimney.

Those truly are some of my favorite childhood memories. And not a Christmas Eve goes by that I don't call my brother on Christmas Eve and ask him to "check" on Santa. I'm sure he hates it now that he's 29, but he's not getting rid of me any time soon. Ah, Christmas memories.

But now that I'm older it's not near as much fun. We buy for A LOT of people...cousins, brothers, sisters, moms, dads, aunts, uncles...good gosh it's just exhausting. I love them all, but we are ALL hard pressed to know what to buy. So, for me, when I ask someone to email me direct links to specific things their kids want, or when Ken makes me a bullet pointed list of all the pros and cons of the latest and greatest GPS systems, it just takes something away from the overall Christmas experience.

So, let's take a trip I say. Come and go with me. Or better yet, let's just give all the money that we would have spent on the trip on the 9 foster kids that I've been shopping for the last couple of weeks. That's what I really want to do. REALLY. I mean, I would have adopted one of these kids already if Ken would let me. Her name is Heather...she's 13, loves the movie "Bring It On" and wants a hair straightener as one of her gifts. Is this child the spawn of me or what? Her name is HEATHER, for crying out loud.

But for now, I'll keep shopping, I'll press on with the gift wrapping, and I'll try to control my need to be sick. I won't take a trip this year, as I would obviously be going alone at this point. But if anyone changes their mind for next year, you know where to find me :)

What about the chicken sandwich?

Ah, the infamous chicken sandwich. Wait, let me be more specific...the TYSON chicken sandwich. It's been overlooked in recent years, but it's gaining huge popularity in our house. It's easy to fix, it tastes great, and it's reasonably priced at the Tyson Employee Store. And after a day like today, it made a phenomenal supper.

Today was the 50th Wedding Anniversary party I've been planning the past few weeks. There was lots to do, but I think it turned out to be a smashing success, if I do say so myself. When you put blanket invitations in the newspaper and throughout the entire church, it's hard to know exactly how many people to plan for. And even though we ran out of punch, plates, and just about ran out of cake, it was overall a great and hopefully memorable day for my friends. Besides, Jeanette promises to help at my 50th wedding anniversary party. She'll be a mere 108 years old in 2047.

Apparently the thought of 50 years married to the same person is hard for a lot of people (not just me, I guess) to grasp. I learned today that some of my friends have been married 3 and even 4 times. One of them even accused me of being a "vengeful wife" if scorned. Wow. Can't say that didn't hurt. I hate it when someone I've only known a few weeks has such a good grasp of my bitchy side and has the guts to say it to my face. But I learned a long time ago that if I'm gonna dish it out, I gotta be able to take it in as well. So, touché; you get a point for that one.

So, a martini and a chicken sandwich later, and I'm done.

Oh yes, and on Tuesday night I'm be attending an "appreciation dinner" at Noodles with all the Tyson folk. A night out with a group of accountants isn't exactly at the top of my list, but at least I won't have to cook, or talk much for that matter. At the last function I went to, I tried to make small talk with the guy sitting next to me. Hmmm, I thought. Everyone watches TV, right? WRONG. Apparently this guy only watches National Geographic and Animal Planet. Great. What about Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives...House Hunters...Washington County Drug Court....ANYTHING? Needless to say, I didn't have much else to say to him the rest of the night. It's not like I can make idol chit chat about whole numbers or the periodic table. I mean, come on, work with me here :)

11 years and counting...

As I write this, I've been married for exactly 11 years, 4 months, 20 days, 4 hours, and a handful of minutes (but who's counting, right honey?)

Enter my friend, Jeanette, and her husband Paul.

This week I've been recruited to help their children plan their 50th wedding anniversary reception. That's right, 50...the one after 49 and before 51. The big 5-0. The only parties I've ever planned were my own kids' birthday parties and maybe a couple of other scattered events, so I obviously have no clue what I'm doing.

I mean, I did attend my own grandparents' 50th anniversary when I was like 6. Of course, what I remember the most was the disgusting fact that their church didn't have an indoor bathroom. My mom was pregnant with my little sister, it was sweltering hot in the middle of August, and there wasn't a flushing toilet. Good gosh. It's a good thing blogging didn't exist back in 1981 because that one afternoon alone would have given me years of bitching material.

Anyway, oh yes, back to the reception.

I first met Jeanette about 4 years ago during a praise team practice at church, and I've been singing with her ever since. Her husband Paul is probably one of the rowdiest people I've ever come across...ever. He tells inappropriate jokes, which I usually don't understand at all. I suppose that either means I'm too mature or simply too naive to understand his humor. Unfortunately for me, it probably means the latter. And I learned a long time ago NEVER again to ask him, "What's Up?" He'll seriously tell you.

Jeanette is right the opposite. She is soft-spoken, mild-mannered, and her shoes and purse always match. She has great skin, and her fingernails are always painted to match her matching shoes and purse. I seriously want to be like her when I grow up, but something tells me I'll be more like Paul instead.

They are the cutest couple, and I'm glad to help, but all week long I've been trying to wrap my little brain around the concept of 50 years. That's 17 years longer than I've even been alive. They make it look easy.

So, (raising my glass) here's to disagreements about why the mayonnaise DOESN'T have to go in the exact same spot in the refrigerator every time you use it, and discussions about why yes, we DO have to wash washcloths more than once a week. Ken, if my math is right, we only have 39 years, 6 months, 10 days, 20 hours and a few minutes left until our golden anniversary, and I can't think of anyone else I'd rather spend it with (but if I was FORCED to choose, it would be a toss-up between Brad Pitt, McSteamy, or that new painter guy on Desperate Housewives.)

Just kidding, honey :) See you in 2047.

Counting my Blessings

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this blog are the sole responsibility of the writer and are 100% accurate. While this writer doesn't write or express her feelings in this manner often, she has always believed and thanked God for these things every day of her life. Writings such as these don't happen often, so as her friend Ginny would say, "sit down, shut-up and listen."

I read a blog by an old friend I went to middle school with that writes about how amazing her life is. While some of the things she writes make me want to vomit in my mouth, other things she writes really do inspire me. They make me realize how little I tell people how appreciative I am of them and how blessed I truly am. So here goes, in no particular order, my top ten list of blessings.

1) I am thankful that I live in a country where I am free to do as I please. No one tells me who to vote for, who to worship, or what my opinions are. I dig that about America.

2) I am thankful for my amazing husband who loves me even when I'm witchy. And even though I complain incessantly about all those long hours he works, I am thankful I get to stay at home with my growing babies.

3) I am thankful I don't have to cry every month when our mortgage and other bills are due, like I painfully remember my mom doing when I was growing up. Financial literacy and stability is something I never have and never will take for granted.

4) I am thankful that I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not. What you see is what you get with me. So what if I say "oil" or "twice" different from the way everyone else says it. I could enunciate my words to appear more proper and less-hickish, but quite frankly my way is WAY MORE fun.

5) I am thankful that God sent Jesus to die on the cross for ME, even though I screw up all the time and don't come close to deserving it. While I readily admit that I don't pray every, single day, I haven't read my Bible cover to cover, and (while I'm at it) I don't have a lot of biblical knowledge, I still rest peacefully knowing that I am a child of God.

6) I am thankful for our church family, those we met 9 years ago and those we more recently found in 2004. They love me even when I'm unlovable, even when I open my big mouth and say things I shouldn't, and even when I use sarcasm when it's not all that appropriate. They mean more to me that I could ever express.

7) I am thankful for the amazing progress Benjamin has made over the last 18 months. I am thankful for his therapists, whom he loves and talks about all the time, and for the time and encouragement they give both of us. I am glad my little guy has rejoined the world and can now tell us how he feels and more importantly what he needs. It truly is one of my greatest joys that at one time I thought I might never see.

8) I am thankful for our friends. When you don't have family close-by, your friends really do become your family. We would be awfully lonely if it weren't for them.

9) I am thankful that I have 3 siblings that call me to scream, cry, and harass me all in one phone call. They each represent the longest relationships I'll ever have, and I'm glad to have them by my side.

10) I am so thankful that we are healthy and can live in a place where we get to breathe clean air and feel safe driving with our windows down.

And now for my bonus...my selfish blessings that make my life a little easier: Cable TV, TiVo, my cell phone, my car, microwave ovens, tampons, and oh yes, who could forget the Internet.

So there it is...my list. This is as contemplative as I can possible get in one blog, so "seriousness over," as Ginny would say. I don't say, or even think, these things near as often as I should.

The Great Walnut Brigade

We feel so blessed to live in a place where we have an abundance of beautiful, massive, old trees. It was really what drew us to this land in the first place. Every fall, the walnut trees drop literally thousands of walnuts in our valley. So, this year, Levi has decided to collect these little suckers and sell them at the feed store in Elm Springs.

I decided to let Levi go at this on his own. It was his business, and he got to make all the decisions. I thought it would be interesting to see how he went about it.

Deciding to maximize his income potential, he decided to ask two of our neighbors if he could pick up their walnuts as well. They happily agreed, as walnuts don't usually agree with mowers. Next he picked his employees. Benjamin agreed to help and I signed on as well. At first he offered me a dime a day, but I negotiated my rate up to $1.00 for every day I pick up. He also gave our neighbors, ages 5 and 3, jobs as well. Now, as long as the child labor officials don't hunt him down and prosecute, he was ready to get to work.

After a few hours, hurting legs, and stained hands, we were done for the day. I kept my complaining to a minimum (shocking, I know) and was content with the fact that I was helping him reach his goal. It was a great way to enjoy the beautiful weather, spend some time together, and let Levi become an entrepreneur in his own right.

Speaking of such, just last week I caught him charging Benjamin a quarter to wash his John Deere Pedal Tractor. He's learning young. There's nothing like conning your little brother and making a quick buck in your own driveway all at the same time. Watch out world. He's 18 in ten short years.

Sarah Palin is my Gynecologist

I'm not a political person. Oh sure, I vote and all, but I'm not a button-wearing, sign-posting, email-forwarding advocate on either political side. But here's what I do know. Sarah Palin looks exactly like my OB/GYN. Freaky, I know, but that just might get her and Senator McCain my vote.

I must admit that in the past, if I didn't know any of the candidates, I would just vote for the person that had the most clever name. Hmmm, Claude Smithpeters...check. That name reminds me of my high school band director, so he gets my vote. It's so wrong I know, but hey it's America, and I can eeny, meany, miney, mo it if I want to. What a great country.

I know that most of you reading this are probably jumping on the McCain/Palin bandwagon, and I'll probably sway that way myself. I promise I'll educate myself on the presidential candidates sometime before November, but those local candidates always get me. I should totally run for city council of Elm Springs. Of course I'll have to come up with a creative surname just in case someone else uses my candidate selection process :)

Anyway, enough advanced political chit-chat and on to more important things. Benjamin started preschool a couple of weeks ago, and it seems to be going very well. The class size is only 11 kids, so I'm hoping it's less stressful for the both of us. Today when I picked him up the teacher told me his favorite color was pink and his favorite activity in the classroom was playing with baby dolls. Terrific.

Levi has been busy selling his popcorn for Boy Scouts. He's selling to anyone with a checkbook, so if he hasn't gotten to you yet, watch out. It's just a matter of time before he finds you.

Where the heck am I?

I just returned from my baby sister's house. She is doing much, much better, so thanks to everyone who has been praying for her and to everyone who has asked me about her. It was about a 6-hour trip one way, and what a trip it was.

The drive, was...well...atrocious. Ken convinced me to try his "shortcut" that he promised would save me at least 20 minutes. I don't think I'll be going that way again, as I didn't see another human being for miles and miles. I didn't have any cell phone service either, so it was just me and the CD player. I memorized every word to every song on every single CD I brought along. I've been singing to Ken non-stop ever since I got home, so he is, of course, thoroughly impressed with my memorization skills :)

I think I was able to help out a little. Luckily for me, Mindy was drugged up on some super serious painkillers, but I'm sure she'll either confirm or negate that statement when she comes down off of her high. Anywho, she can't lift over 5 pounds, so it was either me or the mother-in-law. Guess I won. I did stock up on her leftover feminine products, though, so I guess I can't complain too much.

The town where she lives is about 3,000 people (OK, Matt, 3,267 people...sorry). They have a McDonald's, a grocery store, and the world's smallest Divison 1 Wal-Mart I've ever seen. A tour of the town took about 7 minutes. We did manage to go to Jonesboro one day, which was about an hour away, but as my luck would have it, we had a flat tire on the way home.

Now I know we all have our talents and gifts, but let's just say that changing tires is NOT one of mine. Mindy was pretty much helpless, so I knew I was either going to have to show some major cleavage or figure this thing out on my own. Fortunately for everyone, I didn't have to do either as a nice, older gentleman stopped very quickly to help us. Seriously, though, I was very grateful for him. I'm sure it would have taken me light years to figure it out on my own.

On a lighter note, I had a great 33rd birthday yesterday. The kids gave me my presents yesterday morning, and Kirk and Amanda came over last night bearing Guitar Hero Aerosmith for the Wii. SHUT-UP! It is so much fun and gets me as close to a rock star as I'll EVER be. Great birthday...even if I'm getting way old.

Uterus for Rent

My little sister Mindy has one amazing little boy. His name is Noah, and as it turns out, he is probably her miracle baby. Yesterday, after enduring years of pain with endometriosis, she had a hysterectomy at the ripe ole' age of 26.

She's had a tough year; she lost 3 babies in about 13 months. But this is a welcomed surgery for her. No uterus means no cramps. No cramps means no more taking 30+ Advil everyday. So, after the recovery, she will feel much better, hopefully much better than she's felt in years.

So, on Sunday afternoon, Benjamin and I will be going to Corning in Northeast Arkansas to help out a bit. We'll come back on Thursday morning. It's about a 6-hour trip one way. I don't anticipate it being much of a fun trip...just a necessary one. Ken will be dropping Levi off and picking him up after school.

They had, of course, hoped for another baby ever since sweet Noah was born, but now, obviously, adoption seems their only option. That's where I come in.

I have a perfectly fine uterus. It's just sitting in there somewhere...I'm not even using it. I have told her for years that since I'm done having my babies, she's more than welcome to rent it for 9-10 months.

OK, I know I joke around a lot, but I'm being totally serious now. I now what it feels like to want another baby more than anything else in the world. And for a long time, I thought Levi would be my only one. I know there are thousands of babies around the world that need good homes, but if she wants another biological child, let's face it, I'm her best bet. I don't see anyone else volunteering.

My oldest sister Shelly can't do it. She eats everything in sight when she's pregnant and gains like 60 pounds. She was easily the largest pregnant woman I've seen to date. Well, I guess Kate with the sextuplets was bigger, but she also had 5 more babies in there. Anyway, that puts her out of the equation.

If you ask me, being pregnant is the easy part. It's the next 18+ years that pose most, if not all, of the challenges. I'm not minimizing the fact that giving the baby up after carrying it for 9 months would be easy. I can't even imagine how hard that would be, but I'm willing to do it for her. Seriously, Mindy, it's up for rent, and you know that. Just let me know when you're ready.

First Day Jitters

There is no doubt that about 99.9% of you have seen me cry. It's no secret; I cry all the time for all kinds of reasons. I couldn't hide it if I tried. And if you've ever told me a story and cried in front of me, chances are I cried right along with you. And to those of you that have been to funerals with me, I'm sorry...really, really sorry.

I wish I could watch just ONE American win a gold medal and NOT cry while our national anthem is played. I wish I could watch a baby being born on Baby Story and not lose it. I wish I could hear Benjamin say something new and NOT tear up. I wish I could, but I just can't. I swear it's just the way I'm made. It has to be genetic (those of you that know my mother know what I'm talking about.)

That said, Levi started 3rd grade this morning. And, unfortunately, he is the male version of me. I'm sure he's fine now, but he was quite nervous this morning.



This weekend I was forced to face the cold, hard truth that he's getting to be such a little man. That's right...I had to buy him a jock strap and cup. There's something I never wanted to do...ever. I actually put it off for as long as I could, but I seriously got in trouble last week in karate by the sensei himself because Levi couldn't do the "secret knock."

It's times like these that I'm so glad I'm married. This thing looked like a cross between a slingshot and a pair of really uncomfortable thong underwear. Needless to say, I hadn't a clue how to assemble this contraption, much less how to actually put it on. Does the cup go inside the thong thingie? Do the legs go here? Do you wear underwear with this thing? I must admit that I'm still not quite sure.

It would have taken me hours to figure it out, but as luck would have it, Ken knew the ins and outs of cup wearing. This one is ALL him. I just hope this thing doesn't fall off during a front kick or upblock or something. Wish us luck.

Hello, Mr. Alarm Clock

No more staying up late and sleeping in; this is our last official week of summer break. Yep, school starts up again next week, and I must admit that I'm not quite ready. We are physically ready, I guess, with our school supplies and new lunch box, but I'm just not quite there emotionally. This summer seems to have been the fastest yet. From San Antonio to boy scout camp, we were pretty busy these past few weeks. Goodbye sleeping in...hello Mr. Alarm Clock.

Benjamin started soccer last week. I, as always, was apprehensive about something new, but I wanted him to have something that he did without Levi, so I signed him up. He walked right up with the group, told the coach his name, and talked and played with some of the other players. He did really well, and, you guessed it, I was the only mom there that teared up during practice. He doesn't have a clue how to actually play soccer, but I'm sure he'll figure it out along the way.

Speaking of sports, I'm super excited about the Olympics. I am always amazed to watch people do things that are totally unimaginable for me. I'm HORRIBLE at just about every sport I've ever tried. I mean, I can barely swim for crying out loud and don't even get me started on roller skating. Whoever came up with the idea of shoes with wheels anyway? It just doesn't make any sense.

I played softball for one summer when I was 12, and what a season it was. I sat on the bench whenever possible, but when they were forced to let me play, I was the position where they thought I would do the least damage...the hard-working, yet unappreciated back catcher. Of course, I couldn't actually catch the ball, so the umpire would reach out and grab most of the balls for me and then hand them to me so I could throw them back to the pitcher. I wasn't the worst player on the team, though. That honor goes to my sister, Shelly, who can barely even run. That poor, poor coach. She probably still has nightmares about that season :)

Why my Neighbors Hate Me

As I look at my 8-year-old, 65-pound son sitting in our 11-inch plastic pool in the front yard, I just can't help but laugh out loud. I think I now know why my neighbors hate me.

Some of my neighbors have nice, in-ground, $30,000 pools with the works...lights, landscaping, volleyball nets...the whole sha-bang. But not me.

I have a turquoise blue, plastic pool that currently holds about 8 inches of water. I mean sure, it has some mildew stains and an old, orange towel that we got from Ken's grandmother's estate plugging the water in, but it's not THAT bad. I got it at a garage sale back in 2001 for $3.00. I'm pretty sure it was a dog pool before I lucked into it. No worries, though. After a complete bleach overhaul, it's decently clean and ready to go again for another season at the McCreary house.

I thought it was a great find until I see my neighbors drive by and shake their heads in disbelief. Yep, it's official. They hate me.

In my defense, however, I never really had neighbors until I got married, so I'm learning as I go. I actually give those lucky people that happen to live next to me quite a few things to hate me about.

Number one...I planted my garden way too close together this year, so instead of looking neat and orderly, it looks more like a tomato jungle. It's not pretty. Scary, really.

Number two...we open our windows in the spring and fall to save money. This way everyone up and down the street can hear me yell at the kids and whistle at them when dinner is ready. Oh, yes, and I also sing at the top of my lungs without even knowing it. Good stuff.

Number three...my dryer went out a few months back, so I was forced to dry my clothes on the back deck until we got a new dryer. OK, I even think that's white trash, so I'll give 'em that one.

I could go on and on, but I'll spare you all the messy details. Maybe we should just move and start over with a new set of unsuspecting strangers, but quite frankly this is much more entertaining :)

Soaking in the Silence

If you were sitting in my dining room with me right now you would undoubtedly be able to hear some noises I don't often get to hear: my coffee pot clicking, the humming of the air conditioner (thank God) and a couple of my neighbors zooming off to work. It's quiet in here. Really, really quiet.

Ken's mom called on Thursday and said she wanted the kids for the weekend. After giving myself 0.25 seconds to think it over, I gladly agreed to the unexpected visit.

The boys LOVE going to Gran Gran and Paw Paw's house. They get to do fun stuff that they can't do here...swim in the creek, feed the cows and horses, and just be boys. Ken's dad is even teaching Levi to drive the Ranger.

I never really liked going to my grandparents house when I was a kid. Of course, my grandmother tried to make us sit still and watch Donahue, The Price is Right, and The Young and Restless, in that exact order. I'm pretty sure it was the equivalent of kiddie prison.

It seems like my parents and Ken's alike stop their lives and try to have a good time with their grandkids. Ken had similar experiences visiting his grandparents when he was a kid, even though they lived more than 5 hours away. He tells the coolest stories of the things they did, the places they went, and the themed birthday cakes his grandmother would make to celebrate his or one of his siblings birthdays. His grandfather would even tie wagons together and pull the kids around the yard with the riding lawn mower. They called it the "Paw Paw express." My grandfather, on the other hand, would sit in his easy chair and yell out, "LISTEN" every time sports or the news would come on. I mean I know I'm loud but what kid wants to "listen" to the news? I just never got that.

So, needless to say, we have had a quiet weekend. We had a couple of dinners out and even went to a movie last night. I like the silence and the break, but I also can't wait to see them this afternoon. I really can't imagine my life without them.

Vacation Bible School was last week at church. The kids had so much fun and invited some of their friends to join them throughout the week. When I asked Benjamin what he had learned he says, "God." I asked him what else and he said, "Jesus." I said what about Jesus and he said, "Jesus died on the cross." OMG, I mean shut-up because I just about lost it. That's a pretty big deal for him. I know I say this all the time, but I am really proud of him.

My job was teaching Bible to preschoolers. I thought that would be a low-key, easy job as preschoolers don't seem to have many expectations. I liked it, but if anyone has any ideas on how to teach Pentecost to preschoolers, I'm all ears.

I had quite a few girls in the different classes, and I always think it's funny observing how different boys and girls act even when they're little. One of the all-girl classes decided to draw numbers to see who was going to be the line leader. That ended up with 2 of the girls crying and one of the girls absolutely refusing to be at the end. Boys would have just shoved each other out of the way and been done with it.

Compared to the rest of the summer, we have a relatively slow week planned. We only have 4 weeks until school starts, so we'll try to enjoy what we have left.

Back in the summer of '83

Ever since Levi started school, it seems like he now has to plan out his days to the minute. "It's 11:00, time for my snack." And somehow, along the way, I have to become an entertainment seeker and scheduler, writing down dates on the magnetic calender on the fridge.

It's funny because I'm pretty sure my mom didn't do that for me and my sisters and brother when we were growing up. Our summers consisted of watching our 3 (sometimes 4 depending on the weather) channels on T.V., riding our bikes up and down the gravel/dirt roads, and going to the lake twice during the entire summer. I lived in the country, so no one ever came over. We even had a party line phone that we shared with 2 other neighbors, so I couldn't even really talk to anyone with one of the old, tell-you-what-I-think neighbors picking up the phone and telling me to hang up because she had "an important call to make."

OK, so I admittedly didn't walk to school in the snow, uphill both ways, but it was a lot different for me when I was Levi's age back in the summer of 1983. And now thanks to that thought, I'll have to fight the urge to continuously sing "Summer of 69" by Bryan Adams for the rest of the day. I'm really not complaining, but it was a lot different for me when I was little.

On to real life...Benjamin got his yearly eval last week in speech. He scored in the 3-year-old range on both his expressive language (what he can say) and his receptive language (what he understands). But on his articulation (how much we understand of what he says) he scored much lower. That really didn't surprise us or his speech therapist. She still isn't ruling out speech apraxia for him, but the speech therapy for that is apparently the same as what we've been doing. He has made so much progress this past year, and I'm so proud at how far he has come.

This has been a great summer for him and probably the easiest so far for me. This is the first complete summer he's been potty trained (does anyone else hear the angels singing in the background?) He'll let us go new places and do different things without the fit throwing and constant screaming. He's doing so much better with his transitions. I can even take him to Wal-Mart now for an hour or so or take the boys out to a restaurant by myself and he does great. And I'm quite sure I was the only parent that almost cried when she saw her child walk away with an instructor either of us had ever laid eyes on before for swimming lessons last month. That might seem like a little thing to most people, but it's huge for us.

Rock on, Mr. Benjamin.

Our week in San Antonio

We're back home from a week in San Antonio. We did everything from the Riverwalk to Sea World to Schlitterbahn Water Park. It was quite a drive, but we had a great time.

One of my favorite things we did was visit a cave in nearby Boerne, Texas. I had in my mind a Blanchard Springs Caverns like day. I pictured an elevator lowering you down into the cave and then a paved walkway throughout the cave with impressive lighting, an informative tour guide, and a nice gift shop at the end with picture postcards and the like.

We didn't know exactly where it was, so we stopped by the local H.E.B grocery store to ask for directions. I simply asked the cashier, "Do you know where the caves are located?" She says, "The caves...I've never heard of that. Is it like a hang out or bar or something?"
That should have been my first clue.

We pulled into the gravel driveway and saw one of those picture taking stations where they have funny bodies with big circles in the top for you to stick your head and snap a pic. We paid our 30 or so dollars and then met our 16 1/2 year old tour guide who all but text his girlfriend throughout the tour. I usually ask questions throughout tours like these, but I figured he really didn't know or otherwise care, so I kept my big mouth shut.

So this cave obviously didn't have an elevator or paved walkway, but they did have a few lights. I must admit that I kept thinking that Scooby-Doo, Shaggy and the gang were going to jump out and solve the mystery of the lost spelunker or something, but it was a fun tour.

We got home on Saturday afternoon, unpacked, and I couldn't wait to give Ken his Father's Day present. We got a Wii for Christmas, so I got him the infamous Guitar Hero that is supposed to be so much fun. We played it most of the day yesterday. It has great rock songs on it from the last few decades. It's just too bad that Levi has been going around singing Talk Dirty to Me by Poison ever since we got it out. Ooops.

Day One

It's day one of summer break, and I've already dug out the rocket sprinkler, filled up the water guns, and created some water balloon masterpieces that feel like boulders when they hit you and don't explode immediately. We may be in for a long summer.

Baseball is OVER, and I think we're all excited about that. It's pretty safe to say that we won't see Levi in another baseball uniform for quite some time, if ever again.

Mom and Dad came up this weekend for Benjamin's 4th birthday party at the gymnastics center. Dad walked on the balance beam, Mom tried to stand on her head, and they both jumped on the trampolines. As I was picking myself up off the bouncy, gymnastic floor from utter amazement, I began wondering if they were smoking the "sweet weed" as one of my friends calls it. I probably should have patted them down before they left because it was the strangest thing I've seen from them in quite some time.

The kids have their 6-month dental appointments on Wednesday. This will be the first time for Benjamin to go to the dentist, so I'm praying he doesn't pull a Cujo and make the hygienist run away crying while soaking up her own blood in one of those scary little masks they have to wear now. It's a pediatric dentist so surely they've seen kids with sensory issues before. If not, then they will have by this Wednesday afternoon :)

I've Become One of THOSE People

It's no secret to anyone who has known me longer than 30 seconds that I'm loud. I admittedly talk way too much, everyone always knows my opinions whether they want to or not, and I can whistle like a 400-pound man. When you put all of those things together, it's a recipe for disaster at the baseball fields.

I'm been SO PROUD of Levi lately with his baseball. He's much more of a willing participant these days, and here lately he's really been trying his best. He got a couple of singles, a double and got to run home several times this morning at his games. And even though I complain incessantly about his practices, they are really helping him. He has improved so much since we started back in March. So, kudos to the super serious coaches for that.

That said, today he got a good hit down the 3rd base line, ran to first, touched the plate and ran right past it like you can do on first base. I'm still in the process of jumping up and down and screaming when I look over to see the ump make the out sign with his arm. I, of course, wasn't using my self-editor at this point, so in the middle of everything, I stop cheering and scream out in my loud, carrying voice, "WHAT? He was clearly safe!"

Oh, no. I've done it. I've become one of those people. The kind of people that get all caught up in a kids game and scream at the one helpless ump making $7.50 an hour. What has become of me? Even I was embarrassed that I had succumb to the pressures of competitive play, but before I crawled under the bleachers to hide until the humiliation blew over, I pulled myself together and went to congratulate Levi on his great hit. I've got to get ahold of myself before our next game.

Also today we learned about the "competitive tournament" that will be in late June. Any player from the league can sign up to play in this extra $30, 4-day tournament. There don't promise any playing time, which in Heather language translates to the best players will play and the others, well they won't. I dare someone to ask me if we'll be signing up for that one :)

Our Weekend

OK, so, I'm 32, and I'm a hair-coloring virgin. I've never colored my hair, so on Friday I have this big idea to get highlights. Wow. That was interesting. It turned out a bit blonder than I anticipated, but it was fun. I like it, but it is taking some getting used to.

I must admit that I had one of the nicest Mother's Day in a while. Levi picked me some flowers on the way home from the bus on Friday. I got the roots and everything. Too cute.

Levi made me a jewelry box at school, and Benjamin made me a bowl in OT. I don't know how much longer I will get little handmade gifts or handpicked "flowers" from our neighbors yards, so they meant a lot to me.

I told Levi that I always wanted him to make me things and when he was old like Daddy he just mail them to me. He said, "Why would I have to mail them when I'll be living here?" I just about cried. Then he said that when he grew up that he didn't want to get a job; he just wanted to play video games all day long. But I guess that's a entirely different blog in and of itself. I hope that idea fades quickly, as I don't see that being very appealing to the ladies when he's 30 or so.

On Saturday afternoon, Benjamin had his Jitterbugs performance. Jitterbugs is a dance or "creative movement" class he takes at school once a week. He loves music so much, so I thought he would like taking it. Every semester they have a performance which involves wearing costumes and dancing to different songs. OK, wait. I thought initially there was NO WAY Benjamin would let anyone put costumes on him, let alone get him to stand on a stage in front of everyone and dance. That is why we skipped the January performance; I just didn't think he could handle it.

I decided to go ahead and give it a whirl for the May performance, and to our amazement, he did great. He wore costumes, including hats, and got on stage and kinda danced. Every once and a while he would throw his hands up or do a high kick like the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders. I was just happy he wasn't screaming. OK, who am I kidding? I was thrilled.

The kids made me pancakes for breakfast on Sunday morning, and then it was off to church. I was fortunate enough to find and sing a song for both services about the unconditional love of Mothers. It was so sad, and I would have cried like a baby if my Mom would have been there.

That afternoon, Ken and Levi went to pick up his fish from the taxidermist. It quite a bit bigger than we remembered it. Levi wanted to take it to school today, but Ken quickly shot down that idea.

Oh, and Ken got me a new digital camera. Can you tell? Hope everyone had a great Mother's Day!

To Quit or Not to Quit...

That seems to be the $100,00 question at our house this week. Should we let Levi quit baseball or will that make him a "quitter?"

I say call it quits. Throw in the towel. Be done with it already. Who cares anyway?

Ken says letting him quit will "make him a quitter, and he's not teaching him to be that way."

So, we are at odds about it. This week we only have 1 practice and 1 game. Not too busy this week, but Levi is already complaining about it. Did I mention that he erased all the scheduled games and times from my dry erase calender on the fridge. Is that a cry for help or what?

Ken is apparently winning because we're still going. And I'm sure his team will make the play-offs so we will probably be playing well into June.

His coaches are as serious as sin about this game. One of the coaches gave a speech before the last game about how "we needed to win this game because winning is what it's all about...that's what we're here for." I wanted to raise my hand and say, "Umm, excuse me, but I thought we were here to have fun?" I totally should have, but I was fearful that the guy would have literally tackled me to the ground and pulled my fingers backwards until I screamed uncle or something. He doesn't have time to mess around with slackers like me :)

Our Week

I feel like screaming it from the mountaintops, so excuse me while I climb up on my dining room chair, cup my hands around my big mouth, and yell out in my loudest Heather voice, "BENJAMIN HAS TESTED OUT OF OT! WOO HOO!" Our initial goal was to get him at age level by May of 2009, and here we are an entire year early.

That said, we have decided to keep sending him for now. I know some of you may think that's asinine, but we feel it is important. He is right now at the oldest level for his age group (42-47 months). He'll be 4 on June 9, then he'll have to fall into an entirely different age level (48-59 months) with a whole new set of objectives. The main reason we want him to keep going is that he LOVES it. When I ask him where he wants to go, he always says, "to A-Wissa's" (Melissa's). Now we just have to pay the difference of what our insurance doesn't pay. Even Ken was on board with that (shocking, I know), so we will continue to go for a while longer.

Levi had another baseball game last night and did really well. He got a good base hit and stole 2 bases. He and 3 or 4 other kids take turns sitting on the bench, so after the game I asked him if he liked doing that. He replied, "I really do because I get to sit and talk to everyone. I mean there's no T.V. in there or anything, but I like it." So apparently he'd rather sit and socialize than play any position on the field. Wonder where he gets that from?

At the end of the game, the coach hands out awards to the kid who makes the best play or works the hardest, and Levi got one of the awards (a little bag of M&Ms) for "making his play." We're sure it didn't have anything to do with the fact that Ken called the coach the day before to ask him for advice because Levi has been wanting to quit. I'm sure that's purely coincidental :)

We, of course, didn't tell Levi that, and it really did seem to boost his eagerness. I was really proud of the coach because I'm sure he wanted to give the M&M's to one of those kids that can bolt the ball from 3rd to 1st like he's not even trying or on of those kids that can stretch out like Elasti-girl to catch a ball and still stay on base for the out. I hate it when 7-year-olds are better at sports than I am.

The Not-So-Great Outdoors

"I survived Cub Scout Camp, 2008." That's what the t-shirt would read if I was asked to design one.

It started off really well. Ken and Levi went down on Friday night, and Benjamin and I joined them the following morning at 10:00. We were the first ones to get there out of our den, so I was feeling really proud of myself. The weather was beautiful, and everything was great...so far.

We did some games with the other dens and then broke for lunch. After lunch, we all decided to go on a hike. It was only 1 1/2 miles, so Benjamin and I decided to give it a try. That was fun. I had done that hike once in college, so it had been a while for me. This trail had caves and waterfalls. Ken had to carry Benjamin a few times so he wouldn't plummet to his untimely death.

Levi and his Cub Scout friends on the hike.

Ken and Benjamin on the trail. How cute is this?

After the hike, we started preparing for dinner. They were having a dutch oven dessert contest between the dens, and for some strange reason I volunteered to make something. We came up with ice cream...in a dutch oven...except in a bucket of ice...lots and lots of ice and lots and lots of stirring. The flavor was great, but it was about the consistency of soup or a milkshake at best. We didn't win, and everyone made fun of it. Lots of fun.

Now we're off to the campfire and it's about 40 degrees by now. Apparently at every Cub Scout campfire they always retire a US flag. Maybe I'm just an uninformed American, but I had no idea that you had to cut each stripe of the flag individually and then throw it into the fire and bury it later. Guess that's what I get for quitting Girl Scouts too soon. I had never seen that done, so it was cool. Frigidly cold, but still neat.

At last, it's time for bed. Everyone was exhausted, so we retire to our bed of gravel and hunker down for a cold, cold night. Ken did give me the below freezing sleeping bag, which I was entirely grateful for. My electric blanket would have been great, but under the circumstances, I guess it could have been much worse.

So, I'm done. I survived. And, this may shock you, but I didn't complain the whole time I was there. I really wanted Levi to have a good time, so I kept my big mouth shut and went along with everything.

Oh, yes, and the SPF 15 that was on my face didn't apparently hold up very well for me. I now look like a cross between Raggedy Ann and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Can't wait 'til the fall camp out.

A Great Day for Mr. Benjamin

Some of you already know this story, but for those who don't, here's a recap...

It was a year ago this month that we took Benjamin to the doctor to address so many issues we were having with him. Not only was speech a major concern, but also his behavior was very odd. He would spin around in circles continuously, walk on his tip-toes, and have temper tantrums over the tags in his shirts, not giving him the same fork every single meal, and the list goes on and on.

I didn't understand it at all. I knew that Levi had never had any of these issues, so I figured I must be doing something wrong, even though I had no idea what that could be.

I also thought that maybe his tongue was what they call "attached" and maybe that was why he wasn't speaking. Actually, I was praying this would be the reason for his delays. As I am explaining his symptoms to her, Benjamin is running up and down the halls refusing to come into the exam room. When we did finally did get him in there, he wouldn't let anyone touch him and just sat in the floor making strange, random noises.

The doctor goes on to tell me that very little research has been done on kids with SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder), and she couldn't tell me for certain whether or not he would be able to live on his own as an adult. I just thought he was being a hard to handle two-year-old, and now she's telling me he might be dependent on me for the rest of his life? Poor Ken just sat there and didn't say a word the whole time we were there. The doctor never even looked at Benjamin's tongue, which was good in a way because I was seriously afraid he would bite her. We were referred to our Occupational Therapist to begin our initial evaluation and eventually therapy.

That was last year.

To be eligible for TEFRA, the state requires a new test every year to see how much progress has been made and to determine if therapy is still needed. Benjamin began his testing today. This test doesn't test for speech or sensory issues, but for things like copying and cutting circles, stacking and copying block patterns, unbuttoning buttons, washing hands...basically age appropriate life skills that can be really hard for some children to master. We began with a 14-month delay, and the last time he tested in February he had a 16 month delay. So, I was obviously nervous when I dropped him off this morning.

When she showed me the results, I could barely believe what I was seeing (and yes, I almost cried). He had advanced 3 entire categories (which is several months time) in just 3 months! This is big for us. The test isn't over yet, and he will probably still qualify, but we celebrate all of these accomplishments. She also reminded me that last summer we were excited that he was saying the first sound of words (mmm for markers and ssss for swing). For those of you that haven't seen him in a while, he is talking so much more now. I couldn't be more proud of him and all the hard work he's doing.

And for those of you that don't know about TEFRA, it is an amazing program offered in the state of Arkansas that allows special needs children to receive therapies, medications, basically all types of medical care. It is need based, not income based. We pay a monthly premium based on our taxable income. I can't say enough about it. Only about 20 states offer it, so we are SO fortunate to live in one that does. We can say thanks to Mike Huckabee for supporting and continuing funding for TEFRA in our state.

So, after a lot of crying and praying and more than 200 therapy sessions, we are well on our way. Again, thanks to everyone for all the encouraging words and prayers I know you are saying for our little guy.

What a difference a year makes. Can I hear an AMEN or what?

Will you take 50 cents for this?

Everyone knows I love garage sales; I go to at least one a weekend. But this weekend it was my turn to clear the clutter, so Amanda and I began hosting our annual garage sale at my house.

There's the ad to place, the signs to stake, and, of course, the items to price. That's always fun to do with kids as they find "new" toys they forgot ever existed. I would bring stuff out, and the kids would take it right back in. Good times.

I'm exhausted, but all the work is worth it in the end. We always have a blast singing with the radio, dancing around the garage, and chatting with so many different people. Even my neighbor that always ignores me came over for a minute. Sure he wanted me to sell his lawn mower, but it's a step in the right direction for us.

I'm always amazed at the interesting people we meet. People just seem to tell us their life stories, and being the nosey person that I am, I just soak it all in. Ken took the day off work to help us out. He, of course, could care less about the life stories, but he'll stand there and listen patiently if people are waving money in his face. It's like Christmas morning for him :)

On my Honor I will TRY...

It was the fall of 1983, and I was a skinny, freckle-faced, 8-year-old in the 3rd grade at McRae Elementary School in Searcy, AR. Girl Scouts was BIG at my school, and I had just convinced my mom to let me join our local brownie troop, Troop 420. I was ecstatic.

It was my favorite day of the week because I didn't have to journey home on the bus for 45 minutes. Immediately after school, my best friend Julie and I got to play on the playground for a few minutes and then we would run to Temple Baptist Church, right in front of our school, for our weekly troop meeting.

And to top it all off, we all wore our Brownie uniforms to school on the day of the meeting. I longed for the official Girl Scout wardrobe ensemble...the jumper, the beanie, and who could forgot those incredible knee high socks with the little tassels. I mean, come on, those were SO cool. I'm sure we couldn't afford all of those extras, so I settled for the shirt, vest, and sash. I was officially a Brownie.

The meetings at the beginning of the year started off well. We sang songs with hand motions, which was probably my favorite part. I remember visiting a police station once and attending a Brownie Play Day on a Saturday. I got several badges throughout the year, which my mom proudly sewed onto my sash. But somewhere along the way, I started growing tired of all of the hand holding, smiling, and acting like these strange people were my sisters. I wanted out.

I tried everything I could think of to convince my mom to let me quit...my stomach hurt, the troop leaders were mean to me, I was afraid of global warming, ANYTHING, but nothing worked. I was in it for the rest of the school year. I cried profusely every week for months. Finally the 3rd grade came to a close, and I was done with my Girl Scout career. I hung up my little brown and white striped shirt forever, and I never looked back.

Fast forward to 2008, and here I am again. This time, of course, I'm on the other side of it. Now I'm the one coordinating the hand holding and smiling...and with boys in Cub Scouts. I was, to say the least, apprehensive about this scouting adventure. My experiences weren't exactly enjoyable after all, but Ken insisted, so we signed Levi up and off we went.

We had a deal. I would take Levi to karate and Ken would do Cub Scouts...meetings, camping, Pinewood Derby, the whole thing. That was a good plan in theory, but it didn't exactly pan out for me. The other Cub Scout moms just won't let me do that. Apparently the $40+ I spent on Boy Scout popcorn that tastes just like Jiffy Pop isn't going to cut it.

Now I'm attending all the meetings, learning how to get a belt loop, and even hosting planning meetings at my house with the other moms. And these moms are SERIOUS. They somehow magically know everything about Scouting. If there was a badge for Parental Excitability they would have earned it a long time ago.

I swear I'm TRYING, though. I'm even going camping at the end of this month. So, for now I'm trying to suppress my memories in the event I have nightmare flashbacks. Wish me luck.

Storms

We went to Levi's baseball game tonight, but it only lasted about 5 minutes. It started lightning, and they called the game rather quickly. So, we came home and started watching the weather to see if the storms were coming our way.

Ever since a tornado hit mom and dad's house in January of 1999, I have been terrified of storms. Thank God they all made it to the storm cellar because everything was completely destroyed. We all saw first hand what a tornado can do.

So, I've been busy tonight preparing our safe room with flashlights, candles, snacks, water, etc. I'm ready. All I need is a weather radio. My friend Amanda just came over with her kids because her husband is out of town. We're going to brave it out together.

My Thoughts Today

What a great day. The weather is amazing today, so I'm sitting on the deck with my computer :) We dedicated our new church building this morning in a great service and had a yummy lunch afterwards. We had a baseball game this afternoon, but stayed a bit too long at church to get us there in time. Oops. We really were going to go, but we didn't want to be so rushed around eating, coming home and changing, etc. Levi did go to his first game yesterday. He did get a good hit, but unfortunately it went right down the first base line, and he was out. I was still proud of him. I'm 32 and couldn't hit off of a pitching machine right now if I tried.

Anyway, there are a few things weighing on my heart today, so I thought I would share with you.

Our friend, Ron Hardin, was in a car accident on Friday and suffered some head trauma. They are waiting to talk to the neurologist today but hope to be able to come home this afternoon. We met Ron and Carrie at our small church in Lowell about 7 years ago and still go to church with them today in Elm Springs. Please pray for Ron to have a speedy recovery. He is a man of few words, but he has a great, big heart.

Also on my heart today is a baby named Ethan Powell. Ethan was diagnosed with Leukemia at only 2 months old and was taken directly to St. Jude's Hospital in Memphis. My sister knows his parents and told me his story, and I have reading updates on his website, ethanpowell.com ever since. His parents were so diligent about keeping the website updated with pictures, videos, and most importantly the treatment of their little guy. He has had 2 bone marrow transplants and all kinds of other medical procedures that I'm sure most of us have never even heard of.

He died yesterday at only 16 months old. And even though I never knew him, I for some reason feel like I did. He was only given a 15% chance of survival, but his parents never gave up. Now they must somehow go on without him. It just puts so many things in perspective for me.

On a lighter note, I want to thank my friend, Amanda, for an amazing concert at our church last night. It meant so much to me to have her there. She did so much work preparing her songs, slides, and getting everything organized. It was phenomonal. We can't wait to have you back.!

The Great Preschool Search

The preschool search has started in the McCreary house.

Even though Benjamin could start school next fall, we have decided to hold him back a year. This will give him one more year of outside therapy (assuming he still qualifies) and another year to build more confidence in his speech before he starts school. He is a June birthday, so he will probably be the oldest kid in his class. We feel very strongly that this is the best option for him.

He currently attends a Kid's Day Out for 2 days a week from 9-2. After some horrible separation anxiety at the beginning of the year, he really likes it now. He can name off most of his friends in his class, and he prays for his teachers all the time. There are, however, 18 kids in his class with 2 teachers. Next year, for the Pre-K class there will probably be have 14-16 kids. This is option #1.

Option #2 is a place called Creative School at FUMC in Springdale. It is only from 8:30-11:15, 3 days a week. We went to visit on Monday, and I really liked it. The class was only 11 kids. It was very organized and structured, and the kids seemed calm and well mannered. This is a biggie for Benjamin. If everyone is running around in chaos, he tends to get very overwhelmed and have meltdowns more frequently because he can't seem to process all the noises and the other disturbances at the same time.

So, after much debate, we have decided to go with option #2. He will be able to stay at the Creative School for the next 2 years. He will start in the fall in the 3-year-old class.

My biggest concern is the transition between schools. Transitions are really hard from him. When he was 2, he would scream and throw a total fit with the transition from the house to the car and vice-versa. You can imagine what a new school could potentially be like.

He is doing so much better with transitions now. We will talk about it all summer. I'll get special permission to visit the classroom and teacher before school actually starts. Maybe we'll even visit the playground to get him more excited about his big boy school. After all of that, I'm still nervous.

Watch out preschool...here we come.

Take me out to the Ball Game...today, tomorrow, and the next day after that

So, I know that baseball is the All-American sport or whatever, but I just can't get into it.

Levi started baseball a few weeks ago, and all I have done is complain. Practice is where? I have to stay there for how long? I mean he's only 7. They practice 3 times a week for an hour and a half each time. By the time we get home, get bath, and dig around for dinner, it's time for bed. Don't even get me started on homework.

Well, I quit. Tonight I'm letting him skip. Not really because HE wants too, but because I don't want to go. I'm so inspirational. Hopefully I'll get more psyched before the games start on Thursday. I think I need some coffee.

We went and bought all the new gear last Friday...baseball bat, batting helmet, baseball organizational bag...you name it, we bought it. He does look pretty cute with all the stuff, though. And for all of you that don't know, it's a UNIFORM, not an outfit. Girls wear outfits, but apparently boys wear uniforms. Gotta remember that one.

For the love of Mud

I don't know what it is about mud that makes the kids go crazy. They love it. We've had lots of rain this weekend, so there was plenty to pick from.


So, today (on Ken's watch), the boys jumped, stomped, splashed, and just plain dove in head first into several mud puddles down in our valley. Here are some pictures early in the mad making process. They looked so much worse right before Ken hosed them down.

Boys are so much fun.

After a much needed bath, Ken decided to cut Benjamin's hair. For the first time ever, he didn't scream, cry or try to gauge my eyeballs out. This is huge, huge, huge...HUGE for him.

Most kids with sensory issues like his, have aversions to personal grooming activities such having their fingernails trimmed or having their hair cut. For Benj, it was a combination of the noise of the clippers and the hair touching him as it was cut. Our OT, Melissa, said she has clients that actually cut their kids hair while they sleep because their kids freak out beyond control.

So for him to remain as calm as he did was such a step for all of us. I recorded it on my video camera, but it is from 2000 so of course there's no way to actually put it on my computer.

Good job, Mr. Benjamin.

One of my greatest life lessons

Brace yourselves...I'm putting on my serious hat for this blog.

Ken and I both come from large families. I have 3 siblings, and he has 4. We always knew we wanted to have more than one child. When we decided to start our family initially, I was only 24 years old, a mere baby IMHO. My pregnancy with our little Levi went really well, and 2 1/2 years later, we were thinking about having another baby. Little did I know that I was in for one of my greatest life lessons.

Most of you know that it would be a year before we could get pregnant again. During that time, it seemed like everyone I knew was getting pregnant with really no effort at all and almost making jokes about it. "That was easy" or "he just looked at me and I was pregnant." AAAAHHHHHHH! To this day, I can't stand it when I hear those words.

And the advice that people would give me...where do I start with that? My all time favorite has got to be, "If you just relax, I bet you'll get pregnant." SERIOUSLY? Anyone that says that has obviously never struggled with infertility. Relaxing is the last thing you can do. I think people are really trying to help, but come on people. Whoever said "sticks and stones...words will never hurt me" is quite mistaken.

It was quite frankly one of the hardest times of my life. I wanted another baby more than anything, and I couldn't figure out why it wasn't happening to me like it was to everyone else. It just didn't seem right, and I couldn't explain why.

It is so hard for me to watch people that I love go through something similar. And even though I, of course, don't have a cure or an explanation, please know that I am here to listen. That pain is still very real to me, and I will cry along with you every single time.

I believe everything happens for a reason, and even though the reason(s) may not be immediately apparent, I still believe that to be true. I will probably never know completely why we struggled, but I think I am beginning to see a tiny glimpse as to why.

Target, anyone?

I have issues.

I know I have addictions: coffee, the internet, Washington/Madison County Drug Court on channel 16, and the list could go on and on. But by far the greatest addiction in my life is shopping at Target.

I'm sure at some point that each of you has either deliberately been at Target with me, has happened to see me there while you were shopping , or at the very least has talked to me on the phone while I was there (right, Mindy?)

I don't know what the attraction is with the place. Is it the bright lights? The clearance deals? The way the merchandise is displayed? Whatever the draw, I just can't stay away. I know every square inch of that store. I even know their markdown schedule. And I of course have my favorite cashiers.

Case in point, I was checking out the other day when this piece of paper printed out after my receipt. She started explaining to me this promotion they were doing and how I could win a big screen TV, but before she could finish she looked up at me and said, "Wait a second, you know about this already don't you?"

I have to go there at least once a week, sometimes twice. I read online chats from people all over the country about deals they have found in their local Targets. It really is a sickness. I was going to give it up for Lent this year, but I seem to be the only person who totally missed the beginning of Lent. I'd like to say it's because Easter came so early this year, but I never seem to pay attention. I was probably shopping when Lent started, lol.

And poor Ken, God bless him. I think he's secretly praying we don't get a SuperTarget. There's a good possibility he might never see me again :)

Our Easter Sunday

Easter is officially over, and I couldn't be happier.

It truly is one of my favorite holidays, but it totally stresses me out. After coordinating Easter outfits, buying presents from the infamous Easter Bunny, cooking a big meal, and singing until my voice literally hurt, I'm just worn out.

Is it just me or does the idea of the Easter Bunny freak anyone else out but me? I mean, come one, one gigantic white bunny actually hopping to every one's house and leaving presents and hiding eggs? If I ever met that big, bouncing bunny I would run the other way screaming. I don't care if he is wearing a nice, little pastel outfit and holding a basket of freshly dyed Easter eggs. It's just plain creepy.

Funny thing is Levi (and of course Benjamin) totally still think he's real. We even left him carrots and lettuce and, after much discussion as to what the Easter Bunny actually drinks, a tall glass of milk (we were fresh out of carrot juice :)

We had a great day, though. Our best friends, Kirk and Amanda, came to a great worship service with us and stayed for the big Easter Egg hunt in our new fellowship hall. I even cooked a "grown up meal" for us like my MeMaw would have done for lunch: a big 'ole ham, broccoli casserole, mac and cheese and even homemade rolls. OK, maybe MeMaw would have had like 10 more things to eat than that, but it was delicious, if I do say so myself. Ken's mom came up after lunch with treats for the kids, and we had a nice visit with her.

I am a loser, though, because I didn't take one single picture. Oh well, maybe next year.

Great day overall. Ken went back to work this morning after a couple of much needed days off. Levi is out of school again today for teacher in-service, but by tomorrow we should be back on our normal schedule. Good times...good times.

Levi's Big Catch

Brace yourselves...2 posts in one day...I'm making up for lost time.

Levi is absolutely beside himself today. During his fishing trip this morning, he caught a
5+ pound bass. He had some help reeling it in, but he caught it on his pole. Ken is getting it mounted for him tomorrow (a present from his Paw Paw.)

It died a slow, frigid death as the taxidermist told us to freeze it in a wet towel. Yikes. I about cried. I asked Ken if we should say a few words, but for some reason, he just looked at me and laughed.





He's already called anyone he thought would care and is searching his brain for some more people to inform. Ask him about it next time you see him, and he'll talk your ear off (which he of course gets from Ken...lol).

I'm just glad he and his Daddy can spend time together and make such happy memories with something they both enjoy.

Ah, spring break

Okay, so everyone can stop harassing me because I'm a loser blogger. I'm finally updating.

Levi is on Spring Break this week, which apparently poses a bit of challenge for me. He thinks he has to be entertained 24/7. All I hear is "take me to Fun City" or "I wanna have a friend over" or my alltime favorite of "Let's go to Vegas." I mean, seriously? My siblings and I were lucky to get to go to town during the week to go grocery shopping and maybe get an ice cream cone or something afterwards. I guess I'm officially just really old.

Ken did take yesterday and today off work to spend some time with Levi. They went fishing this morning at Lake Elmdale. They had to sneak off this morning and tell Benjamin they were going to work and school. He wanted to go so bad, but I just didn't think Ken could unload the boat, park the truck, keep, put life jackets on, and keep everyone away from child molesters at the same time. I'm the first to say that he's a great dad, but one person can only do so much.

He traveled to Tennessee for work for 3 nights last week, and I thought the kids were going to explode. They miss him so much when he's not around.

Last week was our first worship service in our brand new church building, and we couldn't have been happier to be there. Even Ken got there 30 minutes early. The entire service went really well---quite frankly better than I expected. Great job, Carl.

We are busy this week getting ready for Easter. I invited my mom and dad but they always have an excuse as to why they can't seem to come. I think that they think I live in China or something because 3 1/2 hours (or 5 hours if you drive as slow as my dad and refuse to drive on the interstate) is just too far. Whatever. I'm still a bit bitter.

Instead we are planning on spending Easter day with our friends, Kirk and Amanda, our next door neighbors when we lived in Lowell. We love spending time with them and our kids get along so well. They really have grown up together.

Day 3

It's Day 3 of the flu for Levi. I took him in on Wednesday, and he got the incredibly long nose swab that came back positive.

Is it just me or didn't having the flu used to mean throwing up all over the place? I never really heard of having the flu without throwing up, but apparently that's what's going around. He's just had a fever, so I think we've been lucky.

So, for now we're just hanging tight, praying that the rest of us don't get it. Levi is enjoying his little break from school. I'm keeping him doped up on his Tamiflu and hoping he'll be able to go back on Monday.

It was picture day for Benjamin today which always poses a new set of challenges to our morning. I somehow managed to get his nice pair of jeans on him and a semi-decent shirt. I used to stress out about what he wore, but let's face it. Now I'm older, a bit smarter, and quite a bit more tired. As long as it doesn't smell, it's a viable wardrobe possibility in our house.

Off to Lysol...

We have Snow

It's officially a snow day, or at least it was.

Springdale schools, like all the other schools in the area, were closed today. Levi was estatic. We got all our gear on, but by the time we got outside, all the snow was pretty much gone.

So, we're reduced to sitting inside and looking at each other. They are actually playing together quite well today so I have some time to catch up on my little blog.

Levi got his 2nd stripe on his yellow belt in karate last week and, as always, was absolutely beside himself. We started martial arts last September and just signed up for 6 more months. He has learned so much about balance, coordination, and learning when not to talk (self-control is a BIGGIE in karate). I have been learning the moves and combinations first and then teaching them to him. I am pleased to say that I should be earning my mental orange belt in the next few weeks :) It has been challenging for him, but he should be able to kick each of you in the privates now. You have been forewarned.

Benjamin had some friends over on Monday morning and did really well with each of them. I always get excited to see him acting socially appropriate, so it was a really good day for us. He even hugged everyone before they left, which is a pretty big deal for him (and me as I cried watching him do it.)

No one wants to hear that their child is behind, and I was, to say the least, absolutely devasted when I heard the words "developmental delay." It has been a hard year or so for us, but he really is making some tremendous progress. Thanks to everyone for encouraging us along the way. I have learned and grown so much and couldn't have done it without the constant support of my friends and family...okay, scratch the family part, maybe just my friends.

I have somehow managed to freak out every member of my family to think their kid has some sort of genetic predisposition to a rare mutant gene and is going to need major psychological therapy until they are at least 40.

I think Benjamin sums up my thoughts exactly with his latest new expression "holy crap." We are such a fun group.

When the Teacher Cries

I'll admit it. I've had better weeks.

Benj attends a Kids Day Out program twice a week. When I picked him up last Friday, I asked his teacher how her day was. She usually doesn't have much to report, so I'm waiting for the standard "good" or "he had a great day." But instead of those positive reinforcements that I can't wait to hear, she just starts crying. Great. I've seen this before, and I know what it means. It can't be good.

I'm the first to admit that my kids aren't the easiest kids in the world to watch. Let's admit it, they are quite loud (which they obviously get from Ken...wink). Just imagine 15 Benjamins in one room. Yikes. It's enough to make me cry just thinking about it.

After begging her not to quit, I quickly gathered his things and made him apologize for whatever he did. And apparently he wasn't even the worst behaved that day. Is it wrong that I somehow find comfort in that?

So we get home, and I check the mail only to see this in my mailbox peering back at me...

Seriously? Now I'm really scared.

What the ....?

Most of you know that Benjamin has been going to speech therapy for about a year now. While it didn't seem to help much at first, he has made a lot of progress over the last couple of months with the help of his new therapist, Wendy.

That's right. He can now say what the? (in a question, like he's going to say what the !?#@), stupid, and shut-up. That's just terrific. Funny thing is I don't know if I should be embarrased that he's saying such harsh words for a 3-year-old or if I should be excited that he's expanding his vocabulary. But I've learned through our journey to be excited about every new thing he says. So, I quickly correct him but secretly do a happy dance in my head.

We're back to therapy this morning where I can't wait to see what comes out of his mouth today. Gotta love that.

So I'm a blogger...

Wow, I can't believe I actually created a blog. Even more shocking to me is that you're actually reading it.

Today is a nasty, rainy day. It's cold, and the kids are bouncing off the walls. So, I thought I would give this blog thing a try. And to think that just two months ago, my cell phone still had an antenna. Guess I'm really moving along.

Now I just have to explain to my mother what a blog is. She's the only person I know that doesn't own a computer, doesn't have a clue how to use one, and is still quite unsure of what email REALLY is. This should be fun.

Anyway, I'll probably post every few days or so until the new wears off. Let me know what you think.