I'm BACK!!

     I haven't blogged in 3 months!  Instead, I have been finishing up my teaching degree and trying to keep my head above water with everything else.  There have been many times I've begged to blog...but being a 'teacher' causes you to be a lot more reserved in your thoughts, words and social networking!  I'm terrified nearly everything I say or post could be twisted and warped into a lawsuit.  Sad, isn't it?  Either way, I'm excited that next week is my last week of student teaching and I am officially a COLLEGE GRADUATE! Who cares that it took 10 years, a marriage, 3 children and a bundle full of life lessons to complete the degree?  I'm almost FINISHED! 
   
     There are several blogs I have in my head, so more to come later, but what's on my mind now is the transition back into being a full-time SAHM.  I'm so excited to be able to be home again. I'm thrilled that we won't have to pay for someone else to care for our children any more, that I'll be able to make it to the class parties, field trips, stay on top of THEIR homework, have dinner ready ( I hope) and do the company paperwork to help Sean.  I'm relieved that if a child gets sick I will be there for them and not stress about who is going to pick them up, stay home, and if they'll care for them in the way they need. 

     My fears?  I'm going to lose that sacred adult interaction.  My teaching experience could not have been with a greater bunch in a more perfect school.  It is the ideal experience to any student and my cooperating teacher has become a dear friend to me.  What will I do without that constant adult feedback?  Who will I vent to when I'm stressed and exhausted?  What am I going to do with my son 3 days a week for 3 hours a day while his sister is in preschool and the other in kindergarten all day?  Ha ha.  Seriously though, this kids destroys EVERYTHING!

And...I'm torn. I love being home with my kids, I WANT to be home...but I've discovered that I also love teaching.  When I started this semester in August, it was for the sole intention of finishing something I started long ago.  I had lost that desire to teach and heard so many horror stories, I was certain teaching wasn't for me anymore.  However, when I started teaching I fell in love again.  These kids are spectacular.  All of them!  From preschool to 8th grade, this school and it's students are amazing.  I want to watch them get excited about discovering new things...about trying new things, or working harder to perfect their struggles.  I'm going to miss the hugs and smiles and "Mrs. Farrell, can you...?"  I'm bawling even now just thinking about leaving them.  I feel like I'm losing my children to be with my other children.  I will inevitably make every excuse possible to come back and visit, but I know I'm also going to miss out on their daily lives.  I'll miss seeing the progress they've made, the teeth they've lost, and the excitement they've had in school.  Their real teacher is incredible and inspiring.  Their lucky to have such a great leader and I envy her so much.  I'm not sure what God has in store for my future, but if teaching our future is in the plans....I'll consider it a true blessing. 

What I'm really gonna miss

     Any mother of young children has heard this far too many times, or maybe not enough; "You're gonna miss this."  My only thought when I'm told this is, "Am I? Really?" because let's be honest, the temper tantrums, accidents in the middle of Wal-Mart and pure exhaustion aren't exactly things I look forward to every day.  We have great times together, of course.  Going to the zoo is way better with preschoolers and toddlers when you're able to see the wonder of creation through their eyes, and they offer a great excuse to jump in the moon bounce 'for support' or climb to the top of the jungle gym 'just in case', or buy those delicious kid snacks.  I wouldn't trade this life for anything, but it doesn't mean I'm going to miss most of it either.  Here's what I will miss, and the things I'm so desperately trying to hang on to while I can:

1. I'm going to miss their little arms wrapping around my neck for a hug.

• I'm NOT going to miss those same arms death gripped around the swing as you tell them it's time to go.

2.  I'm going to miss Carter running through the house naked after a bath, looking like batman with his towel on his head.

• I'm not going to miss Carter taking off his diaper and peeing all over the floor because I didn't get pants on him quick enough.

3.  I'm going to miss Kaylea saying "Mommy, will you play tea party with me?"

• Not going to miss Kaylea saying "Mommy, Mommy, Mom, Mommy, Mamma, Mom, MOMMY". In fact, I'm thinking of changing my name and NOT telling her ;) 

4. I will miss Natalie's sweet voice and mispronounced words as she says "Shweetie" or "I begot" (forgot) and 'we did that last year' when speaking of yesterday.

• Not going to miss Natalie stomping her feet or huffing every 2 sec. in time-out so I don't forget she's still there. (Then again, she may never stop doing this.)

5.  I'm going to miss the peace at night when they're all tucked in, looking like perfection, having survived another day and they know without doubt we love them and God loves them. 

• Not going to miss the sleepless nights, endless teething, early mornings, and overwhelming needs/demands that come with small children.   

6. I'll probably miss the looks Sean and I share in between the chaos. The ones that say without words, We're crazy for ever thinking we could do this.  Are we doing this right? We're in this together. Carry on warrior. and  I love you.

•  Not going to miss the stress that parenting young children puts on your marriage (although I'm sure new stresses will emerge in its place).  And I definitely won't miss the interruptions in alone time. :)  

There is without doubt many things I WILL miss from this stage of life, even though it's sometimes impossible to see them while we're in it.  It's becoming more real now that our firstborn is growing out of the childish stage and our baby is now a toddler.  There are no more newborn stages left for us.  What's happening now is it, and if I'm not careful I'm going to miss them in the here and now.  I might miss them later, but Lord, don't let me miss them now. 

This crazy life.

If ever there were a day to blog about, today might be it.  I often have requests for more of these type blogs, as if peaking into this life is so chaotic, so crazy and humorous, it couldn't possibly be true. Oh but it is.  The plus side?  It's pretty typical of most mothers so I don't feel quite as alone in this mess. Right?!?  ;)

Our family is in a huge transition right now. Kaylea started kindergarten, Natalie began preschool, I start school Monday to finally finish my degree, and that puts Carter in daycare.  Sean must now push his work schedule behind to take kids to school, which inevitably means later nights.  Between the tears of guilt, exhaustion and frustration, I've been trying to organize our house and life in a way that allows me to quickly get things done and keep things in order.  (Too little too late, I'm afraid.)   My only goal today...finish laundry and clean house.  Now insert Carter, Kaylea and Natalie :)

It's one of those days where you're pretty serious about hunting down that easy button in the commercials.  Everything I touched fell, emptied, or blew up in my face. Our dishwasher AND microwave both quit this week. (how did people LIVE before those?!?)   My sweet, responsible Kaylea has decided to go haywire since starting kindergarten.  I know that she's exhausted, but she's also been sassy, demanding, emotional and now sick. Natalie has decided she's not talking about anything and instead she will be stomping her feet and huffing around the house.  They are still 5 and 3 right? Did I miss the years before they hit teenager status? And Carter caught on pretty quick to the fact that he was the only child in the house during the day, which is why he's taken the liberty of destroying twice as much, talking WAY more, and making sure I'm never left alone with his constant tackles, pushes and hold-me tantrums.  Ahhh, sweet bliss.  How could it get any better than this?

I'll tell you how.  I finally finish all the laundry and leave it on the table nicely folded to go get a basket and carry it upstairs.  Carter climbs on the table while I'm away for 1.3 seconds and wipes the table clean for me.  I come back with my jaw to the floor and he's sitting there laughing like he's just done something completely cute and rewarding.  Carter now goes in the pack 'n play.  While refolding all the laundry I hear Natalie's sweet stomps upstairs as she's yelling at Kaylea to stop talking to her.  Kaylea then responds with a lovely ear-piercing scream and drama rolls through the hall. Carter is taking off every magnet on the chore charts and eating them. I set him free.  While cleaning bathrooms Natalie empties half the bottle and all of the paper towels on one mirror, Carter drips toilet water from the brush all over the carpet and Kaylea's still crying.  Lunch time rolls around and Carter climbs the table again, knocking off the clothes I didn't get put away.  Kaylea starts talking again and Natalie plugs her ears.  Sweet nap time is just around the corner, but first a phone call-warning me to check my kids for lice, and another needing an invoice made.  Nap time finally comes, the clothes finally get put away and the floor gets swept and mopped. Before I know it they're all awake again and we must get ready for a birthday party.  More tears fall over outfits and hair bows, but we're all clean, ready to go and only 20 minutes late.  Except Carter gets outside undetected and finds a mud puddle.  After we chase him down and change his clothes, Kaylea gets sick.  I get her cleaned and changed and we FINALLY take off.  We stop to pick up a present at Wal-mart, but Kaylea gets sick again.  Clean her up, get the gift, get out....she gets sick again. Clean her up, get in the car, go home.

I walk in and crunch a handful of cereal balls on the floor with my foot. Didn't I JUST sweep and mop?  Did I exchange my life for a zoo?  Suddenly it makes perfect sense to me why mothers get such a bad rap for being crazy.  It's completely and totally because of their children!  And you can bet that the first time Kaylea calls me crazy, I'm going to sit her down, pull up these blogs, and tell her abstinence is the only way to stay sane. ;)       

In this world, you will have trouble...

..."but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."  -John 16:33
 
    My 'troubles' are petty compared to the rest of this world.  A bad day at home is listening to three cranky children while trying to accomplish the impossible task of laundry and dishes.  A bad day in another mom's home is wondering where the food will come from to feed her babies who are crying from hunger.  A bad day in my world is finding out I'll have to add more classes if I ever want to graduate on time, even though I plan on staying at home after graduation.  A bad day in another mom's home is learning her hours have been cut from her two jobs and she can't afford the rent this month.  A bad day in our life is paying all the bills but not being able to do the extra things or take a weekend trip because it's 'tight' this month.  In another mom's home, it's living with abuse because she can't afford to leave. 
    I'm being reminded these last few weeks that, although my God cares for me and wants the best for me, the 'lack' is not the worst.  While I struggle with a sick child, a broken dishwasher and a tight budget, a friend of mine is struggling with a baby diagnosed with cancer, and his road to recovery as she prepares to welcome another baby in a few short weeks.  Though my tears are pouring down for the stress and uncertainty in my life, even more are pouring out for the mother's around me and far away, with far more on their hearts and minds than I could ever imagine. 
  My God is great, and greatly to be praised, no matter the circumstances of this life.  So 'be of good cheer' and press on.  It doesn't last forever. :)

I hereby establish a "NO TV" day...

    I read a blog last week from a mother who decided enough was enough.  Her kids were fighting over what shows to watch on t.v. and bargaining for more time.  She had had enough and bravely (or stupidly) unplugged the t.v.  She sat her kids down and created a list of 100 things to do besides watch television.  She blogged how well it went and that the family even decided to make it last for 2 weeks, they were having so much fun!  I wittingly (or stupidly) decided I could do the same.


 How I pictured it:

  I imagined lots of smiles and laughter from my girls as they sat at the table working on crafts and puzzles.  I imagined dance parties, tea parties, playing dolls and dress-up all while the laundry was magically finished, the house stayed clean and the kids stayed happy.  I pictured Carter off to the side playing nicely or sitting in my lap, happy to be a part of such a wonderful moment.  I imagined coming out of this experience refreshed, enthused and grateful that I had come across such an encouraging blog and wishing I had done it sooner.

 How it really went:

 I shut the t.v. off and told the girls we were going to make a list about all the things we wanted to do INSTEAD of watching t.v. Kaylea jumped right in with ideas like shopping, going out to eat, the bounce house, etc.  All things that cost money.  Natalie crossed her arms and growled at me.  I persuaded Kaylea to think of things to do at home; things that didn't require us to spend money.  We came up with a list of 20. Not bad, they're 3 and 5.  I warned them next week would be no t.v. They just stared at me like I was crazy (or stupid).
  
   When the week begins they're awake when I get home from exercising.  Their dad has the t.v. on.  "that's ok," I tell myself, "he didn't know".  So I tell them they can watch one show and the t.v. goes off.  Long story short...it didn't go so well and by 10 a.m. I was exhausted and stressed.   Maybe a whole week was a little ambitious.  I'll just start with one day and go from there.  I declared Wednesday a NO TV day.  Again I failed and they were watching shows as soon as they woke up.  Maybe this is more like a diet.  You cheat a little, but get right back on the wagon.  I shut the t.v. off and explained all the fun things we were going to do today.
     I brought down all the laundry and started a load, but then Carter woke up and needed changed and fed.  The girls brought down the tea set for breakfast. Every. Single. Piece. After that I brought up all the bins of clothes so they could try them on and see what we needed to buy for the upcoming school year.  I told them it would be like a dress-up party.  We crank up the music and get half-way through the tubs when they come across last years slipper p.j.'s.  It's 103 outside and the refuse to take them off.  Party over and Carter has dumped 2 bins out on the floor.
   Ok, fine.  How about a 'count-down until school' chain?  They're excited to do that, so we get out the paper, scissors and glue.  I'm secretly counting down the days as well as they cut paper, ask for help a million times and Natalie doesn't quite understand the concept of "dot, dot, not a lot".  Carter is climbing up and down chairs, reaching for scissors and screaming at me each time I pull him off the table. Natalie asks 3 times what we're making and if she can watch Calliou.
   Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.  We build a fort, play little-people, do stickers and play toys upstairs.  Every activity is interrupted with short attention spans, diaper changes and  frustration.  It's only 10 a.m. I scream out of frustration and exhaustion...and tell them to forget it...Dora's coming on t.v.

Reality Check:

   I'm not as successful as the super-mom blogger and I secretly want to punch her.  She must have a maid...and a nanny.  Whatever.  Lesson learned.  I'll make a bigger effort to do more and watch less, but t.v. isn't going away in this house.  I have 3 kids under 5 and there must be some sanity time or I will inevitably lose my mind. Judge if you must....or better yet, come entertain my kiddos ;)   


 

  

   
   

The Walmart 5K

     I previously posted that I love to exercise. I hate to run.  With a passion...hate it.  However, there seems to be a 5k kick going around lately.  Many of my friends are posting pictures on Facebook of these "fun" runs, "colorful" runs, "benefit" runs. You name it, there's a 5k for it.  I've even dabbled a bit in this epidemic myself. I started the 'Couch to 5k' three times already and even made it to week 4 one time. AND I've walked in two 5ks this year and participate in the March of Dimes walk every year! Not too shabby, really.  But then I see all these pictures on Facebook of my very fit and trim friends finishing these races with a smile on their face and a medal around their neck. There's even a t.v. show on ABC right now called Extreme Makeover and people who are overweight are running and finishing these races, smiling as they finish.  I started thinking, maybe I could r..u...n.. a 5k.  Maybe I could even get together with some friends and start training to r...u...n.. Ugh. It makes me sick for a bit so I stop thinking about it, but overtime the idea comes back to me.  And then I get to go grocery shopping.
     I start at 6 in the morning. I wake up to eat a healthy breakfast of cappuccino and am quickly interrupted by 2 little girls streaming down the stairs. I must climb the stairs to get the baby.  After changing diapers, feeding and getting three children ready for the day it's 9 a.m. and I've forgotten to eat the rest of my breakfast.  Out the door we go to run all of our errands before the puppet show at the library at 10 a.m. We made it on time, phase 1 complete. :)  I ease into the race at a steady pace until the last 15 minutes of the show and my toddler decides he's bored. The chasing and keeping things out of his mouth phase has begun.  After the show it's a quick run to Walmart. This is where my endurance must kick in.  I have my list in hand and put the children in the limo cart, except my toddler has fallen asleep in the car and I am forced to carry the 32 pounds of dead weight in one hand while I push the 70 pounds of wiggle weight with my other hand.  I maneuver the limo up and down the aisles while making frequent stops to squat the baby weight as I grab items off the shelf (always on the bottom it seems).  The girls and I have sung 6 different versions of Wheels on the Bus and a few rounds of Old McDonald before I've successfully made it to the check-out line (enter mental stamina).  My toddler wakes up, well rested and ready to run. Phase 3 begins.  After all groceries and children are safely in the car it's time to stop for lunch.  We make a 'quick' stop for potty breaks and food, and it goes surprisingly well, but the race is only half over.  Then we're off to the second grocery store.  They don't have limo carts so the girls go at a faster pace than me, helping reach items we don't need but they want.  Again I maneuver the cart up and down, though easier than the previous store.  I make it to the check-out line and struggle to keep all three contained and near me, then head out the door. Again, all kids and groceries are placed in the car.  Almost done, right? Wrong.  I'm out of gas.
     It's another quick stop and then head home. I can see it now, I'm in the home stretch.  The finish line is so close I can taste it, but then the hardest phase begins.  The final stage; unload the car of kids and food, put food away and kids down for naps.  I've done well up to this point. No major melt-downs, no tantrums, no 'pee the pants' accidents, but the true test comes when the I pull into the drive.  Here it comes. One by one I must carry the children in because suddenly their legs don't work anymore. Tears start rolling and fights break out as I leave them in the house and bring in bags of groceries.  As soon as I get all the bags in, one by one I take them potty and change diapers. I climb the stairs to put the baby to bed, then go fetch another and climb again, fetch another and climb again. Aaaaahhhhhh, all in bed, all asleep, FINISH.  
      I feel like I just ran a marathon. My legs hurt, my arms are about to fall off and my head is pounding.  That was a 5k,  right? Maybe longer? Yes. I tell myself that was the equivalent of a marathon and instead of a medal around my  neck, my reward is a calming glass of wine.  Success.  I win. 
   

A Shout Out to Mothers of Sons

I have only been a mother of a son for a little over one year now and I'm not sure I'll survive.  Don't get me wrong, I love him dearly. He is precious in more ways than I can count.  But he's also rough, adventurous, and fearless.  I'm more comfortable with my girls...the ones who were delicate at birth, easy to relate to, calm (for the most part).  Kaylea came nearly 4 weeks early and was so sweet and precious.

  Being the first we were cautious with her, held her all the time, and gazed at her for hours on end.  She is still the dainty little princess we imagined, a smart, beautiful, careful little 5 year old we love so much. 

Then there came Natalie.  A second girl to play with her sister. She gave us fits for awhile, but still a tiny little princess to care for and love.  She immediately fit into our family perfectly and I connected with her just as quickly as I did with Kaylea. 

Now Natalie is a vibrant, beautiful, funny little 3 year old princess we love so much. Though we often butt heads because there are 3 girls in the house, I know how they're thinking, what they're feeling and how to make it better. They are completely opposite in nearly every way, but I get it.  I know them, I know girls. They light up our lives :) 

We didn't find out with any of our children what we were having before they were born. I suggest this to anyone who asks me. It was fun and incredible to find out boy or girl the moment they came.  And we never wanted others to be disappointed .  Especially after having two girls back to back, everyone I came in contact with would ask me if I was hoping for a boy and if we'd keep trying till we got one.  I hated this.  Of course it would be nice to have a son, but if God intended for us to have 3 girls then that's what we'd have. My concern was not their sex, but their health.  And so God gave us a healthy 8 lb. 10 oz baby boy for child #3. 

Carter did not come in to this world like his dainty little sisters.  The girls gave me time, I had epidurals, I was smiling through their births.  This boy came in as fast, as loud and as BIG as he possibly could!  I swore up and down I'd never have a child naturally, I wasn't cut out for it. So as most "I'll never" statements in parenthood often end up, that's exactly what happened.  Either way, we were blessed with a HEALTHY little boy to love. 
I have to admit I was a bit terrified to learn I had a son. What the heck was I going to do with him?  Would he love me like my girls do?  What exactly is "normal" for a boy, anyway?  Questions and worries streamed through my mind but I figured I could handle it. He is a baby after all, and I love babies :) 

But then it hit me...what if he's like his dad?!? What if he gets excited about speed and dirt and thinks AFTER he leaps?  What if he does stupid stuff for the fun of it and how much insurance do we need to cover  him when he does?  My mind started racing again until I decided I could keep that stuff at bay.  I stay at home with him every day so I would be his primary influence.  Surely after so many tea parties with his sisters and days of drawing flowers and rainbows on the sidewalk he would be somewhat reserved. 

One year later I have realized this isn't possible. The boy is in him, the Farrell part of him cannot be held back.  He climbs on EVERYTHING, he eats EVERYTHING, he goes as fast as he can and gets hurt on EVERYTHING!! By the end of the day I am exhausted, frustrated and in disbelief at his new accomplishments.  I prided myself on the fact I didn't have to completely baby proof our house because if you told the girls no, they listened. Now I'm stocking up on cabinet locks, outlet covers, and contemplating toilet locks!  This is crazy!  I'm going mad chasing one boy up and down stairs, pulling him off the oven door, yanking him away from the toilet lid.  How do mothers of more than ONE son do it???  Where does your energy come from, where do you find your sanity?  Are they all like this? 

I love him to pieces, and the love between a mommy and her son is unlike any other, for sure, but I often find myself holding out for those days when I don't have to pull him off of a pile of sharp rocks or scoop out dirt from his mouth.  I realize these days will come and then I'll have two teenage girls to deal with. I'll be wishing for this time again, but at least then Carter won't be eating dirt and climbing rocks.  Or maybe he will...either way he'll be stable enough to climb on his own and old enough to remove the dirt himself  ;) 

Lessons Learned from Exercise

Since having Carter and knowing he was our last birth child, I have been on a mission to get my body back.  Although I've been pregnant since I was 21, I am STILL in my 20's and would like to at least look close ;)  So after Carter began sleeping through the night around 5-6 months, I have been doing my best to wake up at 4:30 and make it to the gym by 5 a.m., then come home by 6:30 so Sean can leave for work. I haven't been consistent until the last few months, but I have lost weight, gained energy, and picked up a few lessons along the way...

1.  Getting up at 4:30 a.m. sucks

2.  Once I get out of bed, the rest is a piece of cake.

3.  You really DO have more energy if you exercise.  Though my day starts early, I'm not rolling out of bed when my 3 kids are in my face whining, "I'm hungry, I want milk, Can I watch a movie?" and the baby's crying.  An hour of peace and no demands is vital to my soul....and sanity. 

4.  It works.  As a senior in high school I was a size 2, and that's AFTER I got hips.  My husband and I both agree looking back that size 2 was way too small, sickening almost.  After Carter, I was a size 11.  Kid. You. Not.  I only tell you the sizes so that you can see how much I gained.  Size 11 on a frame that can be size 2 (although not pretty) is craziness. But after 9 months of eating like a mad-man, walking as little as possible and wearing those glorious, stretchy maternity clothes multiplied by 3, it happened.  The size I am now doesn't matter. It's a number, but it's not 2 and it's not 11. I'm comfortable, confident and almost secure ;) 

5.  My determination has increased in health and in habit.  I'm motivated to go work-out because I can see those abs coming to the surface and I WILL see them again, even if it kills me.
    I use to leave the dishes in the sink, laundry unfolded on the table and floors unswept.  I still do...a lot...but I have moments where I push myself a little harder, a little longer, and finish those dishes, sweep the floor, and at least put the clothes in a basket so it doesn't look so overwhelming.  I said my determination has increased, not reached it's peak.

6.  My kids are picking up on it.  When they wake up they see me in my exercise clothes, they ask me if I had a good work-out (because they hear Daddy ask) and eventually they "wake up" and want to do the same.  They're seeing their mom make health a priority and they're following by lead. This makes the early alarm, sleepy drive, and burning thighs worth it.

7.  I'm happier, more focused and less stressed.  It doesn't happen every day, but it's becoming more and more common, and I'm loving the results.

Now off to bed, 4:30 a.m. comes pretty early!  
 

Back to a time....

 In celebration of our oldest, Kaylea, graduating from Safety Town today, I took her and her friend to their choice restaurant...McDonald's.  I realize this instantly provides a wide variety of parents/children.  There are those who show up at 12 p.m. in their p.j.'s ready to feed their children a delightful breakfast of chicken nuggets and fries, those who need to burn off some energy before nap time, and those who were begged from kids on hands and knees to go "just this once, pretty please!"  We began the normal routine, "eat before you play, I'll open the toy AFTER you finish your lunch, go UP the stairs, DOWN the slide..."  but there was one precious girl who ruled the house. Not even 3 yet, she immediately came up to our table and told me to move, she was sitting there. With a smile on my face I pointed to a table across the room and said she may go sit in THAT empty chair.  Her mom grabbed her hand and drug her over there as she plotted to terrorize the next victim, only that victim was me, again.  The girls left their toys sitting on the table and as this precious angel shoved a whole nugget in her mouth she snatched that toy and blurted out "mine" and walked away. I kindly told her that was not hers and to please return it to me.  Her mom looked up from her phone and demanded she give it back, then looked back to her phone. This story continues for 10 minutes as the girl continues shoving food in her mouth and stomping her way to the top of the playground.  Twice she sat at the end of the slide not allowing anyone to pass through. She had 7 kids bigger than her hijacked in the slide, yelling for her to move! I looked around at every parent in that room and EVERY SINGLE ONE was playing on his/her phone, unaware that their children were yelling for help.  I removed the little girl twice by talking to her and the third time broke the camel's back. In fear of having police come after me for touching a child who wasn't mine, I picked that girl up out of the slide and told her that she wasn't playing nice and she needed to go somewhere else. I literally had an argument with this child for 5 minutes before her mother looked up from her phone and came to get her!

  I'll be the first to admit I'm on my phone entirely way too much.  And maybe that was just what this was...a reminder to focus on my children rather than the events of 452 friends on facebook.  Either way I couldn't help but wish it were a time where phones weren't so functional.  A time when we actually focused on the day, praying we wouldn't forget, rather than yanking out the camera phone; stopping our children in their tracks to get a picture that probably won't turn out.  My children take notice of when they are doing something exceptional and tell me to take a picture. How embarrassing :(  I am notorious for always having my camera and taking lots of pictures to get that perfect shot, but for my children to tell me they're being cute so I better take a pic, ugh. I've failed.  Such a hard reminder today to put the technology away and "be" with my kids.
  Speaking of, they've been on my lap and at my feet for the last 2 paragraphs...I better go "be".  :)