More than...

An exchange between Levi (L) and I (M for Mom) this afternoon:

M: Levi, I love you more than cake.

L: I love you more than frosting.

M: I love you more than yogurt.

L: I love you more than french fries.

That's a lot of love. <3  The boy does love frosting and french fries!  LOL

But not even close to the love the Father showed to me as He endured His only Son dying on the cross for my sins...

Can you even imagine having that much love for anyone?  I can't.

My other sister

We became friends through grief and loss.  We became sisters through marriage.

We have fought at times, but you've always had my back.  We don't do everything the same, but it all works out in the end.  I think our disagreements were just sisters having to make up for not growing up together.

I never have to explain the ornery man I love to you...you grew up with him and know him well.  You know his heart is good, even when he does stupid crap.  I can gripe and whine to you and know that it won't change your love for him. 

I had babies while you begged God for your own, and then YOU had babies while I did the same.  We were never pregnant together, which was probably a good thing.  Someone had to have stable hormones!

We lost babies.  We cried for and with each other.  We always knew the other understood. 

Thirteen years.  Well, twelve and a half, but I'm rounding up.  All of my adult life, you've been in it.  We grew up together, grew into real adults together.

And now you're leaving tomorrow.  While it's not another planet, it seems like it might as well be.  No more "Hey, Val, can you watch the kids?"  No more last minute dinners together.  No more cousin overnights.  Just like that, over a couple weeks...

Seeing you hug my kids tonight, I know you didn't want to let them go.  They only have one Valoo, and they love you almost as much as you love them.

I'm not mad at you for leaving.  I know you have to go.  I just wish we could all go.  Transplant everyone and everything we love, drag it all down south with us.  But we can't.  And so, everything changes. 

Everything but our hearts.  Part of mine will go with you, and part of yours will stay here.  Sisters are like that, you know.  One minute, they're fighting, the next they're wishing they had more time to just play.

I love you, Val.  Here's to the next chapter of life...so far it sucks.  It must get better?  Either way, I've got your back and I know you've got mine.

Four more weeks

Dear fellow college students,
            There are four more weeks of classes.  For some (ME!), that is exciting!  It means I only have to keep up this break-neck pace of school-work-home for 28 more days!  It means my hard work is about to earn me some As to add to my transcript (poor use of grammar, I know...).
            But for some, this is do or die time.  You've slept in too often, skipped classes because it just didn't seem to matter, not even bothered to do your homework or reading.  And now, with 4 weeks left, it finally occurs to you that you are probably about to fail.  Before you start to blame the professor for grading so harshly, please stop and think about your own actions and the consequences of them.  I know, it's a hard thing to do.  But it will greatly benefit you in the future, even if this semester has gone to crap and it's too late to bring it back. 
            It's not too late to use this as a learning tool, the school of hard knocks, when you are taking the same classes again next semester.  Take this opportunity to better yourself, to learn that most of the good things in life are directly proportional to the WORK you put into them. 
            Please, for the love of pizza and wings, do not let me hear you whining about how it's everyone else's fault.  I'm just ornery enough in these last 4 weeks that I might call you out on that.

 Most sincerely,
 The grown woman who sits in class and listens to the whiners.
 Who has sacrificed and worked *hard* for good grades (they aren't free!).

Tears

Nick.  Over 5 months since he's been home with us.

Brian's dad.  Very sick.  Way down in Mississippi.  Brian needs to go.  Holy crap.  One of our parents might die.

A person who used to be a friend.  Spreading vicious lies.

Levi.  Evaluations.  Wondering...waiting.

Family court.  Support court.  Accident stuff.

The floodgates have opened, and I don't know if I will be able to close them again.  I hate crying.

Not a day

"Momma, when can he come home?"

"Oooh, Nick would love this book!"

"How come his mom gets to decide he can't see us?"

"Does this mean he's not our brother now?"

"Why doesn't he tell his mom he wants to come here?"

"Does he miss us?"

"Does he care that we miss him?"

"I'm gonna pray and God will send him home."

Oh, my Nicolas...not a day goes by that we are not missing you, grieving your loss, and yet trying to live still.  You're not even gone, just gone for us.  And yet only over a couple hills, around a few bends, just a handful of miles away. 

Not a single day.  We have not forgotten you.  We will not forget you.  We love you, kiddo.

A letter for my children (and dogs)

Dear children,

Spring has sprung.  You have been itching to play outside for months now.  You will now be outside during all awake, non-school hours.  I will ring the (imaginary) dinner bell and serve your dinner on the porch.  You may come in at bed time, after being hosed off. 

Since the dogs share your affinity for mess and mud, they will be joining you outside.  They will also be hosed off before coming in for bed.

Now that my house will remain clean, since you will not be in it, I will have much more energy for other things, such as napping in the sun.

I am also sure that all of this fresh air will result in delightful, always obedient children who are absolutely enchanted with eating whatever wonderful, vegetable filled entree the mother you adore has made for you.

Oh, I love spring!  It has been such a long winter...

Thankful or...

We always have a choice to make.  No matter what life brings, we can choose thankfulness.  I can choose thankfulness.  You can choose thankfulness.

Or we can not.  I can wallow in self pity.  I can make sure everyone I talk with knows how terrible life is treating me.

I.  I.  I.  Me.  Me. Me.

It's not all about me.  In fact, I'm becoming convinced that very little of it is about me at all.

And I have a pretty darn good life, in spite of, and sometimes even because of the hurdles.  But it's all in how you look at things...

I don't have a perfect house, but it serves its purpose and protects my family from the elements.

I don't have perfect children, but God has blessed me with just the kids He wanted me to have.

I don't have a perfect husband, but he loves Jesus, he loves his kids, and he loves me.

I don't have a perfect body, but it does (most of) what I ask it to do.

I have a husband who is broken and in pain, but he is here and determined to live life.

I have a child with special needs, but no one can make me laugh the way he does.

I don't have enough time in the day for what I need to do, but God is my strength.

I choose thankfulness.  I choose to live life to the fullest.

(And least anyone think...wow, she's amazing, I assure you I am anything but.  I have been as guilty as anyone of taking my blessings for granted lately.  No.  More.)