And the livin' is easy

It's here, and oh my goodness gracious gosh almighty I could not be more excited. I can literally feel the job stress melting away and the joy of summer filling every crevice of my body- from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Granted, I'm only five feet tall, but it's all I've got to offer here people, and summer is consuming every inch. Although we've been exceptionally busy the past week, we've also gotten a lot taken care of and have even more to look forward to in the weeks to come.

First things first, we had some very special visitors this past week. Some of my old students came to town and got to see Hollyn. To say I love these kids is quite the understatement. In fact, love doesn't even feel like a strong enough word.

 Regardless, we giggled and visited, and life is good.

Oh, and my hubby, being the wonderful man that he is, got me an early anniversary present. It's here, and I LOVE IT! I am pleased to announce that I am now the owner of a Silhouette cutter, and here's a looksie at my first project.

Don't get too excited- I didn't make the water bottle. However, see that cute name in vinyl on the side? Yeah, that was all me. I'm sure you'll be hearing a lot more about this in the future, and I'm also sure I'll spend hours upon hours playing with my new toy this summer.

Mentioning more to come, I can also pretty much guarantee that you'll be hearing more about this in the near future as well......

That's right, folks. I've signed Libby up for tennis lessons.

 Look out Venus and Serena; here comes the Libster.

In addition to tennis lessons and Silhouette cutting, here are a few other things that have landed on my "Things I really hope to get done this summer" list:

- teach Libby to ride her bike: no training wheels allowed

-sip lemonade on the porch with the girlfriends and laugh until my stomach hurts and I start to cry (happy tears only, of course)

-read, read, and read some more! Now that there are no more school books to read and I'll no longer be spending eight hours a day talking about reading, I can read the way I like to the most: just for fun. And I plan to do LOTS of this starting very, very soon.

-survive Libby's first dance recital (three more weeks until the big day)

- catch up on my old time letter writing habit

- spend some quality time on the phone with my college friends

- teach Libby how to catch fireflies

- teach Hollyn how to nap. Ok,ok, ok;  these are supposed to realistic goals, so I'll settle for teaching her how to eat from a spoon.

And that's just the start of it. There are so many things I want to enjoy this summer. I have a feeling it's going to be monumental. Seeing as how I was pregnant last summer and we moved the summer before that, I feel like it's been ages since I've had a true 'do nothing but yet do so many things' kind of summer, and it could not have come at a more perfect time.

But, at the very tip top of my list of things to do this summer is seeing this little girl love her daddy. She truly believes he hung the moon. Can't say I blame her; I'm pretty fond of him myself.

Ugh- her little puffy cheeks and the way she smells like baby lotion all day, every day.

I could just eat her up!

And getting to spend every day this summer with the ones I love best,

what can be better than that?

Summer- can we just make this whole thing permanent? We'll convert the guestroom. Consider it done. Agreed?

Rockstar by morning

I’ve almost made it. The finish line is in sight, and my engine is rearing to go. Only ONE more day of school, and then the stay-at-home-momness begins.

Although nothing sounds more appealing right now than spending every waking moment with this little face (and I DO MEAN EVERY waking moment, considering ‘nap’ is not a word she is choosing to understand), there are several things I’m truly going to miss once the day job is done.

Other than the smiling teenage faces, fresh pot of coffee made by someone else, and enticing literary discussions I have everyday with a class full of students who are excited about reading book talks, one thing I will miss the most is my ride to school.

I confess. I have a dirty little secret. Once I drop the girls off at “school”, as the Libster likes to call it, I spend the next thirty minutes in a state of total bliss.

I’ve mentioned before that I love music. However, what I meant to say is I ‘absolutely freaking adore cannot possibly live without would shave my head before going musicless’ love music. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. My i-pod contains 436 days worth of music. Yes, I'm completely serious.  Me and music- we’re pretty much BFF 365. So, my morning commute is spent with the radio blaring and one of my 2567 cds (all of which spend their days living in every nook and cranny in my car) blasting from my speakers. I like my music loud. I can’t help it. Something about music played loudly just makes it sound better. It’s my escape. It’s my transition from mommy mode to teacher mode. It’s my “today is gonna be a great day, and you’re off to a great start” breakfast.

And I’m not scared to admit it. I flaunt it shamelessly.

I sing loudly badly to myself, head bobbing included on most days.

I perform what I like to refer to as seat belt dancing like I’m getting paid for it.

I spend my entire way to work singing and changing songs as the mood strikes, which some mornings, I confess, can be labeled as nothing more than musical ADD until I find the exact tune I’m craving.

And to confess even further: in the mornings, I usually crave things that remind me of high school and that I won’t let me daughter listen to for fear of her singing them on the playground. This morning it was Brass Monkey. Yesterday it was The Black Eyed Peas. And at least once a week, it’s something by Pink. I can’t help it. Music is my morning drug of choice.

And last week, I got busted. Normally I do a very good job of returning back to reality and assuming my role as a responsible adult as I pull into the parking lot. However, on that particular day I seem to have forgotten that my car isn’t sound-proof or see proof. People can actually see me strutting my stuff to my morning’s drug of choice. And I am supposed to be the responsible teacher-like kid, but some days it just ain’t happen’ folks.

I was reminded of this when a fellow teacher said, “McCall, I don’t know what you listen to in the mornings, but it must be good because you sure are rocking in your car.” Yeah, that’s me. Teacher by day; rockstar by morning.

But it makes me happy. It puts me in a good mood. And the way I see it is, if all it takes for me to de-stress and prepare myself to mold the youth of America for the next eight hours is some good, loud music, what’s wrong with that? In fact, I’d even go as far as to say I’m one blessed little girl grown, responsible adult. I mean, we can't all wake up feeling like this everyday without a little help.......

can we?

Pseudo Sisters- Part One

Yesterday was National Cherry Cobbler Day. Scout’s honor. Check it out. And in honor of such a sweet treat, I want to talk about what I believe to be two of the sweetest treats this life has to offer: my two pseudo sisters.

I don’t have sister. At least not a ‘for real’ sister. I used to stay awake at night when I was little and beg and plead to God for a sister of my very own. Although He didn’t answer my prayers in the exact way I’d had in mind, He did give me the best pseudo sisters I could ever have imagined.

Meet pseudo sister numero uno: the amazing Kara Leigh

I do believe dear ole' Pam Brown (whomever she might be) was talking about us when she said this:

Sisters don't need words. They have perfected a language of snarls and smiles and frowns and winks - expressions of shocked surprise and incredulity and disbelief. Sniffs and snorts and gasps and sighs - that can undermine any tale you're telling.

Kara and I met in college (which we both believe is way too late in life- I hate thinking we missed out on roughly twenty years of possible friendship. However, I also hate thinking of all the trouble we most certainly would have gotten into had we been friends during high school, so I suppose it was for our own good). Although I adored her from the first meet and greet, it took her a little longer to warm up to me. Can’t say I blame her; I’m fully aware of the fact that I live life at a ten, full volume, dial turned all the way up, speakers ready to bust. While Kara, like most people, resides at a happy level four.

Anyway, it didn’t take long before we were of the inseparable sort. And we’ve been all but glued at the hip ever since.

However, I think we are different in more ways than we’re alike.

She’s a peanut butter and jelly kid; I’m a turkey on wheat kind of gal.

She’s great at math; I have trouble balancing my checkbook.

She always looks great; I always look like I just rolled out of bed.

She majored in elementary education; I heart older kids.

We don’t always agree on what looks best, tastes best, smells best, or IS the best. She’s also one of the few people in my life who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m being rude or to point out that I’m wrong (which, believe it or not, is quite often). She isn’t afraid to argue with me or tell me when she doesn’t agree. She’s not a “uh-huh that sounds great” kind of friend; she’s the friend in my life who challenges me the most. And I could not possibly be more thankful for her.

The fact that we don’t always share the same brain is what I think makes us the most like real-life sisters. She isn’t afraid to hurt my feelings, and I appreciate that more than she knows. No, I’m not a gluten for punishment—I just think that too often we tell each what we WANT to hear rather than what we NEED to hear, and occasionally hearing that I messed up or could have done differently from someone whom I love and respect has done me a world of good.

 And despite the sometimes bumps in our road, there is no one on this planet who ‘gets me’ like Kara. She laughs at my jokes because she truly thinks that I’m funny (I happen to agree ;) ). When she tells me how talented she thinks I am, it’s because she means it and NOT because she feels obligated.

We’re like an old married couple on so many levels. She knows when I need to be comforted, understands when I’m just in a ‘fuss about it’ kind of mood, and makes me laugh like no one else can. When I’ve had an especially bad day, the one thing I crave more than anything else is a Sonic run with Kara Leigh. THAT is a guaranteed fix-all, at least momentarily.

Her daughter is my daughter’s life-long best friend.

Note: They truly do love each other. However, it’s a darn good thing, because Libby and Lily loving each other and playing well was really non-optional. They had to or else all that time they spend together sure will be miserable for everyone involved.

I haven’t seen her smiling face for several months now, and I’m about to go insane and need to spend some time in the ‘wack shack’ to be treated for Kara withdrawals. But, if all goes as planned, Kara and Lily will be here in twenty-three days and counting. There are fun times to be had, bloggers.

This trip is sure to include: late nights filled with stuffing our faces and Grey’s reruns, adventures with the water hose, talk of the beach and how we wish we were there, the baking of sweet treats, a beloved Sonic run, a snow cone adventure, and laughing until we almost wet our pants.

Now if only she didn’t live so darn far away, my world would truly be a better place.

*** Sit tight, friends. Pseudo Sisters- Part Two is coming soon.***

The Dirty Dishrag

When I think about Libby, I think about two things:

1. How am I ever gonna raise this wonderful, amazing, super-smart kid in a way that will do her justice?

and

2. Lovie

Lib and her Lovie are a two-for-one kind of deal. They’ve been together since Libby was only about one month old and have spent a grand total of one night apart in all of Lib’s five years and eight months.

Lovie (Yes, at our house, ‘Lovie’ is a proper noun.) is as much a part of my daughter as anything possibly can be. I associate it with her just as much as I associate her own name with who she is. She’s been there for all of Libby’s major milestones, special firsts, and day-in, day-out moments. She’s kissed her boo boo’s, soothed her to sleep, and comforted her in a way that only she can.

To put it short, Lovie is Libby’s security.

Sleep without Mom or Dad or even better still MOM AND DAD? No problem.

Sleep without Lovie? Not gonna happen.

*I’d like to take this moment to apologize for the 1,765th time to my mother, the brave soul who had to attempt to comfort Libby the night we accidentally forgot to pack Lovie for a trip to Mimi’s house. The fact that you didn’t write me out of your will that night is a true testament to your love for me.*

We love Lovie. All of us, and she’s here to stay. However, we have a wee bit of problem. What’s this you say? Well, Libby sleeps with Lovie. And when Libby sleeps with Lovie, she sucks her thumb. She’s almost six.

The thumb sucking’s gotta go.

So, the problem is, how can she keep Lovie and not suck her thumb? It’s kind of her ‘thang’, if you know what I’m sayin’. How does one go about breaking a habit that is approximately 2035 days old?

To say I’m desperate just doesn’t do it justice.

 I’ve tried nasty thumb sucking medicine.

I’ve bribed her.

I’ve pleaded and begged her.

I’ve even (shamefully) fussed at her about it, all of which are to no prevail.

Taking her Lovie away, I believe, will be the cruelest, worst thing that will have happened to her in her entire, albeit little, life. It will rock her world in the worst possible way……and I refuse. We’ll go to the dentist this summer, and if he wants to fight the thumb sucking battle via some sort of metal mouth piece, more power to him. I, however, am choosing to believe that security in this life is hard to come by sometimes, and I refuse to be the one who takes hers away, even if it does smell like morning breath and come dressed as a dirty dishrag.

Lib's got a little somethin' to tell you

So, do you remember when I told you about Lib's ABC Bible verse book that I made her for Easter? Well, thanks to that and her school's graduation program, she  now has something she'd like to share with you.
Enjoy....and don't ever underestimate the power of a kid who is on a mission.


Enjoy? Please leave Libby a comment....it will make her day. :) Thanks, and God bless!

Today's happy thought

Those dang guerillas....

My house has been ambushed with the desire to lie...as in the desire to not tell the truth, whether it's based on fear of getting in trouble or simply to better reality. Either way, it's war.

And I hate it.

The Libster is really struggling with this lately, and I find myself really struggling with how to handle it. How do I instill in her not only a desire to do right and be Godly but also that lying to your parents (or anyone else for that matter) can be dangerous stuff? I want to impress upon her that it's wrong to lie without belittling her. While I would never, ever intentionally cut her down, sometimes the sarcasm in me can be a bit overwhelming to the wee one, and I have to make a conscious effort to speak to her in a way that will show her how much I love and adore her while still showing her that I am truly, to the depths of my core disappointed in her for not telling the truth.

We've struggled with this before...in fact we dealt with this very same issue just last week with the haircut incident....and twice this weekend...and again this morning.

I don't have an answer. There is no easy-button for parenting (although I do believe that would be the TOP SELLING invention of the twenty-first century, hands down, and I'd be willing to fork out big bucks for one). The hubby and I are simply left to shoot in the dark and hope we strike gold and find what will 'work' for Libby. She's that kind of kid. Simply telling her no does not suffice; she has to see and understand for herself why this is or is not a good idea. We discovered this when attempting to potty train her almost three years ago.

She got it, she could do it, she simply wasn't the least bit interested....untilI  thought to point out to her that she was the boss of the potty and could use that potty anytime she so pleased. Done. Potty-trained that very moment.

Speaking her language is key, and usually I do a pretty good job of explaining things to her in a way that she will quickly understand, that will make sense to her, and that will leave a lasting impression. Unfortuantely, with this whole lying business, I got nothin'. I'm choosing to blame it on the lack of sleep I've been struggling with lately due to this one....

...but regardless, it's just not coming to me. I've stressed about it, worried about it, cried about it, prayed about it, talked about it, and thought about it so much that I am truy S.I.C.K. of this issue. I've dug my thinking cap out from the bottom of my closet, dusted it off, and readjusted the darn thing until I'm blue in the face. However, those of you who know me know I'm not a girl who gives up easily.

So guerillas, bring it.

 I'm up for the challenge. But be warned- when I fight, I fight hard, and you're goin' down.

 It's just a matter of time and that one bright idea that will surely come....if I can only be patient enough until then...

Give a little; get a little

It's the weekend. Oh weekends, how I love thee. You're like my very own version of a weekly Christmas. I know it won't be this way for long, because next year it will seem more weekend-like on a daily basis when there's no more day job, but for the next few weeks, I'll continue to covet every minute of our time together, miss you when you're gone, and smile, smile, smile when you finally come back into my life. And this weekend is special. It's Mother's Day....a whole day just for me to spend doing whatever I so choose (yeah, right).

Earlier this week, I e-mailed my hubby from work and asked him to add a movie to our Netflix account (you can see where my priorities were that day), and he responded with, "Yes, dear. Anything for you." Anything? You mean it? So, I quickly responded and said that in that case I'd like a beach vacation and a drink with an umbrella. My hubby, being the smart, never sarcastic man that he is, wrote back and simply told me to be excited because every day is a vacation from the beach, there's an umbrella in the closet, and to help myself to all the water I desire. Nice try, babe.

 Well, it may not be a beach vacation, but this weekend I will enjoy in the grandest of ways. In my family, we love to give. In fact, I come from a long line of givers. My mother has got to be the most generous person I've ever met. I do believe that she has spent every spare, and even some not-so-spare, penny on me since I was born. She gives to me even when she can't give to herself. As a single parent for most of my childhood, I never went without anything, needed, wanted, or a combination of the two. Sometimes I even feel as though I can't relate to friends who also grew in homes with a single mom, because unlike so many of them, I never did without. My mom scrimped and saved and did without so that I could have. Although I'm now a big girl with my own job, my mom continues to give. And I must say, it is wonderful, especially since now I find myself, in the spirit of tradition, doing without so that I may give, give, give to my daughters. So, what a better way for me to celebrate my life as a mom than to do one of my very favorite things? Give. There may not be many things I do well, but I'd like to believe that giving is one of them. I remember birthdays, I send snail mail, and I hunt, hunt, hunt for what I consider to be the perfect gift. I am the queen of "happies", and I mean it when I say that one of my greatest joys comes from giving to those I love. And I love my Libby. So, I'll be giving my Mother's Day to her, in a sense.

In case you haven't been reading regularly, she's been having a case of the nitty gritties lately. It's hard being a big sister. It's seemingly even harder to be five. In an attempt to make this tough time of tranisition a little easier for her, we are having a weekend devoted to the first born....and the best part is, she had no idea what was coming her way.
Libby's weekend began Friday night,when my friend Adrianna, whom I am quickly coming to adore, and I took Lib and her daughter, Cassie, to our local high school for some entertainment. Oh, the nightlife of a mother. Before the show we went out to eat.

As you can see, nutrition was a priority.  

The show was QUITE the hit with the little ones. There's no denying that Lib enjoyed herself.

I even got her some new 'bling' for the occassion.

However, the best part was definitely yet to come. The next morning, my mom and I plotted and had Libby convinced that she was doomed to a day of yardwork with her parentals. She was quite surprised when her Mimi rang the doorbell at just after eight that morning. And, according to the Libster it was time to "get this party started!". 

Where did she want to go first? To Sonic. For a rootbeer float. At 8:30 in the a.m. Oh, she's a girl after my own heart.

Once we got out of town, we headed to the place where dreams come true. The place where you can find whatever it is your little heart desires. The place my checkbook loves and my hubby dreads.....Target.

Lib is quite the fan.

After lunch, Lib decided she wanted to try to repair the damage from this week's self-proclaimed haircut. So, off to the salon we went.

And then, of all the places she could have chosen, we ended up at the park that used to be just outside of our old neighborhood. It's a place she has played so many times and where she truly feels comfortable. What could be better than that?

And don't worry, folks, I made the most of my time at the park as well.

Lib swang......and swang.....and swang.....and then swang some more after that.

Thankfully, she had the world's greatest pusher there with her.

My mom absolutely adores this child, and I think this picture proves that to be true.

She had a great day. It was a day just for the firstborn. A day that didn't know hold on's, just a mintue's, I'll be right there's, or let me just get this one thing for Hollyn's.

It was a great day. It wasn't perfect, but no day truly ever is. It was, however, the perfect way for me to celebrate being her mom and a chance for me to give her the time she's been cravin'. And for that, I am so thankful.

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there who have ever loved a little one so much it hurts.

5 thanks- May

So, after re-reading yesterday's post, I realize I've been bitten by the negativity bug. We'll call him Neg. for short. You know ole' Neg., don'tcha? He's the one that makes the cup look half empty when it's really half full. Well, in an attempt to undermine him, I've decided to make an honest effort at being more positive.
I found another quote today that inspired me, "If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "Thank you," that would suffice"-- Meister Eckhart. Not so sure who Mr./ Meister/whatever Eckhart is, but I definitely agree.
So, in an attempt to be more positive (we'll refer to this as Neg. repellent, so to speak), once a month I'll be posting about five things I'm thankful for at the moment.

So, without further adieu, here are the five things I'm thankful for: May edition.

1. TARGET DIAPERS

Oh, how I love thee, Target brand diapers. You keep my baby #2 dry long enough for her to sleep from nine to five. You fit her oh-so-well and have polka dots. Seriously people, who doesn't love a cute polka dot tooshie? I know I do. And, you're super cheap. Sometimes being cheap is such a great thing, like when it comes to something that your kid will use (literally) once and then throw away.


See...I told you they were cute.

Target diapers, thanks for all you do.

2. This baby gift:



In case you can't tell, it's a blanket for Hollyn, and I LLLLOOOOVVVVEEEE it. It's so soft, matches her room perfectly, is monogrammed, and is something she can use forever. Best of all, it's from a former student. How sweet is that???!!! Peyton- you have great taste. :)

Isn't it adorable?

Personally, I think it's even cuter when paired with these baby blues:




#3- My fix-all DAVE BARNES VIDEO

Bloggers, meet Dave Barnes; Dave- the bloggers. Seriously, if you don't know about Dave Barnes and his uh-may-zing music, you are truly missing out. I simply cannot get enough of him. Not only do I love his music, but if I weren't single, I'd be stalking him. I don't only think he's super cute, but he is MY KIND O'FUNNY, and if you know me, you know that funny is right up there on my list of necessities in life.

Ok, so when I'm having a bad day (like yesterday) and Ole' Neg. is trying to sink his teeth into me, I simply need to watch THIS VIDEO, and I magically feel better. It's honest-to-goodness Neg. repellent for me. It may even be the waterproof kind, because that's how well it works.

Thanks, Dave.

#4-Prison Break

Have I told you that Lee and I have Netflix? Well we do, and we love it. Here lately we've been watching Prison Break. If you like clever, you'll like this show. I love watching a television series via Netflix because it's much easier to fit an episode into my schedule and still make it into bed on time than it is to fit an entire movie.

Although the show can be a little rough around the edges, the prison life part fascinates me because it is obviously (and thankfully) so different than the life I know. And the characters are great-- really believable, both those I truly like and those I think should stay in that prison for years to come. It's my "break" from reality that I have so desperately craved this month in the midst of sleeping nights, state tests, and a crazed five-year-old.

Thanks, Netflix.

And last but not least,

#5
Please excuse the quality of this picture; as you can tell, my planner is a wee bit camera shy.

What I'm thankful for here is the fact that after today I have a mere twelve (my favorite number) days left of the day job. After that, I'll begin my newest adventure as a stay-at-home mom, part two. No more bell every fifty minutes, no more red pens, no more Channel 1, and no more packed lunches for the mom. Of course this also means no more talking about books all day and getting paid for it, no more funny teenaged jokes, no more lunches with some of my favorite people, and no more daily drive to and from work where I can have ME time. There are things I will miss....however, I tend to believe that spending the day with Hollynation and being here to pick up the Libster from her first day of kindergarten will make it all worthwhile.

So, there you have it. Ahhhh, I feel better already. No more Mr. Neg. today.

But, I do wonder-- what are YOU thankful for at the moment?

I'd like one large do-over with a side of cookies, please

Ok, so I'd like to start today's post with a quote I stumbled upon this morning:

"Working mothers are guinea pigs in a scientific experiment to show that sleep is not necessary to human life."~ Author Unknown

So, today was one of those days-- the kind of day that starts at 4:45 with a baby who thinks she's literally about to starve-- the kind of day where I think pulling my hair out one piece at a time would be more fun than what's actually going on in my life at the moment-- the kind of day where I feel the need to eat my weight in chocolate chip cookies in order to make it all better-- the kind of day where I seriously question if I'm cut out for this whole mom thing. I tell myself that all moms have days like today. If I'm wrong, please don't feel the need to correct me; this is my dream world, and thinking like this gives me comfort-- don't dare ruin it for me.

What happened, you ask?
Well, that's just it-- it wasn't one big thing. I should truly be thankful. No one is hurt, we don't need a doctor, all of our needs are met, etc., etc., etc. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean that today is a day I'd especially like to relive. Re-do? Definitely. Re-live? Not so much.
Today is one of those days where I wonder what exactly possessed my precious five-year-old to go from this:

And morph into this:

I adore her. She is my comforter and care-taker and joy-giver..... most days. Today is just not one of them.

Today, she thought it would be a great idea to give herself a haircut. You heard me correctly. I said: GIVE. HERSELF. A. HAIRCUT. And then, just in case that wasn't bad enough, she decided to ice the disaster cake with a big, bold-faced lie.

I said, " Libby- your hair looks shorter in the front. It's almost like you have bangs. Did you cut your hair?"

She said, "No."

I said, "Ok, so did someone else cut your hair?"
Again, she said, "No."

I said, "You're not lying to me, are you? You would tell me if someone or you cut your hair, right?"

She said, " Yes, ma'm."

All was well with the world......until I came home and found the hair she'd cut lying innocently on the counter.

I'm not upset that she cut her hair- in all honesty, she did a pretty good job, and it could MOST DEFINETLY be much, much worse. I am, however, upset that she lied. She didn't even look guilty.

I've heard the horror stories about the terrible two's or maybe even the horrible three's......but why has no one mentioned the not-so-good five's? I'm not sure if it's just a case of the new-big-sister blues or what, but five has been the most trying age for us yet. Personally, I believe it comes from being in that awkward place that lives between child and big kid. She's not a baby but she's not in school yet. She knows all the things she wants to do one day, but she's just not big enough to do them all yet. It's awkward and sometimes ugly and taking its toll on our family.

While I adore my five-year-old more than words, I'm hoping we'll find solace in the magic number six......and that I'll surive to tell you all about it.

My prayers tonight will focus on the desire to discipline and guide in her in a way that is just enough-- not too harsh and not too soft. I want her to know the danger in lying without scaring her and want her to know she can confide in me without thinking I'm a push-over. This whole mom thing should come with a big, fat guide book, a compass, tent, and cantene. Oh, and some super stylish hiking boots.....'cause it's the roughest, toughest trek I've attempted thus far.

Hats off to the grad.

Lib' s big weekend came and went. Pictures were taken; songs were song; Bible verses were receited-- flawlessly, I might add. Lib's verse was, "Thou God seest me" Genesis 16:13. How appropriate. God does see you, little one. He sees you when you listen and when mommy has to ask you fifteen times to pick up your beads. He sees you when you secretly pinch your sister when I leave the room and when you then say, "she hit herself" when I ask what happened. He sees when you promise you brushed your teeth and when you instead ran the water for five minutes while brushing your hair instead.
However, He also sees you learning to read new words every day. He sees how you would gladly give Hollyn anything you own. He sees how you are truly a comforter and friend to everyone you meet. He sees how eager you are to learn and help and how much you love your friends and your family. He does see you, baby girl.
If you've never been part of a pre-school graduation, you are missing out, dear friends. I can count on one hand the number of times when I've seen this little girl with her "I am so proud of myself" look on her little face.



You're missing out on seeing little girls morph into pre-teenagers overnight who suddenly say things like, "Mom, you've gotta take a picture of me and my girl friends".



You're missing out on seeing the miraculous site that is twenty-two five-year-olds all standing relatively still and attempting to do the same thing for a whole hour.



We were all so proud of Libby Saturday, even our newest addition.




And as I near the end of my sixth year of teaching, I am thankful and inspired by teachers like Ms. Michelle. She's the kind of woman who has infinite patience, an abundance of smiles and encouraging words, and a way of telling you no that makes you feel good about yourself and want to do better. God gifts us all gifts, and I realize we should be happy with our own gifts and not waste time wishing we had the gifts of another, but sometimes I can't help myself. She has several gifts I'd secretly like to steal....heck, some days I'd settle for just borrowing them for a while with the promise to return soon.




I am so proud of my little one that I could just spit. Ok, not really; no one likes a spitter, and that's a silly expression. How about smile? That seems much more appropriate at a time such as this.

p.s.) Lib has decided after this weather eventful weekend that she wants to be a weather girl when she grows up because she wants to be famous. I'm not so sure I like this idea. Oh, the weather part is fine, but if she's famous that will mean I'll have to share her with the rest of the world......and I'm not so sure I want her to be for anyone but me.