Hot Curls

I was a cheerleader in high school.


We practiced in the early mornings before school started.


Therefore, I got ready for school at school.


My first hour was band.
(Yes, I was actually in the band!  "They" said it was good to have 4 years of band on your resume and I believe "them".  Not that it mattered one iota when I applied to KU!)


My unfortunate habit of running late is not new.  


It has been with me for many years.


And so every singe day of high school, for 4 years, I sat through my first hour with...


HOT CURLERS in my hair!


I only wish I were kidding!  It is the God's honest truth!
(If any of my high school friends might happen to be reading this, they can attest that although this is an audacious statement, it is 100% true!)


All in the name of vanity!


Hot curlers... oh, how they remind me of my youthful days of big and  bouncing hair!


And guess who's wearing them now?

And, like the days of my youth, her hair now bounces too!  

I love those hot curls!

The Birds, The Bees & Church Bells

Noah is a very inquisitive child.  He is eager to learn, takes in everything around him, remembers everything, and ponders what I would consider questions that are well beyond his years.


So it wasn't a surprise to me when he questioned how Molly got inside of my tummy when I was pregnant.


My response to him was that Jesus did it... it was a miracle. 


His childlike faith accepted my simple explanation.


We haven't talked about that particular "birds & bees" kind of miracle in quite some time.


*****


Catholics believe in what is called the Eucharist.  It is different than what most other Christian faiths refer to as Communion or the Lord's Supper.  


The Eucharist is not merely a symbol.  We believe that, through the power of the Holy Spirt, the bread becomes the actual body of Christ.  Every time we approach the altar, we approach Christ Himself.  Not figuratively.  Not symbolically.  But Physically!  He is physically present in the form of bread.  


The way I have always attempted to explain it to Noah is this:  


It looks like bread.
It tastes like bread.
But it's not really bread.
It's Jesus.
It's a miracle.


At the moment of consecration, when the bread becomes body, bells ring to signify this great mystery of faith.  And in my efforts to engage my children in the celebration of the Mass, I've always encouraged Noah to "listen for the miracle."   And that he does!  His eyes light up when he hears the bells, often reminding me that the miracle is happening at that very moment.


It is impossible to wrap my human mind around the Eucharist.  It is, like many matters of faith (how about the Trinity!), impossible for me to understand with human reason.  That's why it is called a mystery of faith.


If my mature mind can't comprehend it, imagine how difficult such a concept might be for a toddler.


Or is it?


*****


A few nights ago, we were watching Yo Gabba Gabba (which I despise, but that's beside the point!).  A little girl named Catherine came on to showcase her dance moves.


For some reason, Catherine and her dancing prompted the following conversation: 


Noah:  Mom, if we had another baby, we could name her Catherine.


Me:  That is a pretty name.  Would you like to have another brother or sister?


Noah:  Yes.  I'd really like to have a brother though because I already have two sisters.


Pause


Mom, you know when Jesus put Molly in your tummy...


Pause


Did He do that during church?  


Pause


You know, when the bells ring?


*****


What a wonderful reminder a child's faith is to me!  


Noah needs no further explanation.  He  just simply believes.


To him, a miracle is a miracle.


Whether He's putting a baby inside my tummy or making Himself physically present in the Eucharist, it is clear to Noah...


Jesus can do anything!


Especially when the bells are ringing!

Truly, truly I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life within you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.  For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.  He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.

~ John 6:53-56

The Little Things...

In the spirit of this blog, here are few "little things" that have me smiling today.  Remembering that it's the ordinary things that are what make my life extraordinary!

Toddler Imagination!
Apparently, Caroline (pronounced Ter-Tine by her "mother") 

has suffered a massive head injury!

Hand Me Downs!  And LOTS of cute ones...

Apparently, I went a tad bid overboard on jeans for Emmie that year!

Sweet Sleep!
Just.Plain.Adorable!

My Little "Fancy Nancy"...

with a "fancy" attitude to match!

Savoring the last bit of summer with Sno-Cones!

Matching Dresses!

Fears Overcome!

Noah learned to love swimming (after nearly 3 years of private lessons!) and savored every last second of our neighborhood pool!

Learning...

Great Big Bows!

New Beginnings...
Emily started "school" (which is really a Mom's Day Out, but she thinks it is school!)

A fun new idea for keeping up with Noah's many school papers!

First Tastes!
Sweet Potatoes

Count them...
1
2
3
MADE beds!

And I saved the very best for last...


Big Baby Smiles!

A Reminder

Emily is tough. 


She is two and she exhausts me.


Honestly, I wasn't prepared for her "terrible two's".  


Noah's first three years of behavior were nothing short of delightful.  He was eager to please, very obedient, and to the best of my memory, never threw anything close to temper tantrum.  


But Emily, she is, without a doubt, a "terrible two"!  She has the determination of a bull, is stubborn as all get out, and over-the-top dramatic!  And her temper tantrums.... they are the real deal!  I'm talking about the kind where she throws her entire body on the floor, face first, kicking her feet, and pounding the floor!  


And the tears...


She sheds a lot of them!  Most of them are in connection with some level of tantrum which is almost always the result of something not going her way.  You know, things like not getting to eat a cookie for breakfast.  Or having to comb her wet, tangled hair after her bath when she thinks it is fine.  Or not getting to pour her own drink into a cup with no lid.  Or having to eat lunch.  Or Dinner.  Period.


Those are the kind of things that result in tearful temper tantrums!


And then there are the tears that fall and morph into her famous crying mantra of "I want you hold me."...


Like when her flip flop falls off of her foot while I'm driving and I tell her I can't pick it up until the car is stopped.  Or her blanket is crooked and she can't get it straight.  Or I put the baby doll on the wrong side of her bed.  Or I bring the wrong sunglasses to the car.  Or I tell her that she can't wear her swimming suit to church.


Those are the kind of things that make her cry her "I want you hold me" mantra, over and over and over and over and over...


And then there are the tears that fall and morph into screaming.  Cold blooded screaming, I tell you!  Most of this behavior occurs in her room (where she has been taken for punishment) and is typically accompanied by loud door banging too.


Like when I ask her to come upstairs for nap and she responds sixteen times by saying "I coming", but never moves a muscle, and I am forced to go and physically take her to her nap.  Or when I tell her that it is not acceptable behavior to throw food on the floor and she responds by spitting it on the floor which results in another trip to her room.  


She is strong-willed.
She is a bit defiant.
She is ornery.
She is stubborn.
She is dramatic.
She is a temper tantrum thrower.
She is a cryer.
She is tough.
She is, I think, a normal two year old.


Yesterday, she completely wore me down.  I found myself daydreaming about the time when she will no longer be in this "terrible two" stage of life.  Wanting it to pass because I felt like I couldn't emotionally handle it anymore.


And then, today, just when I needed it most, I got a little reminder.


That reminder... well, it came in the form of clothes!  


I have been working to transition the clothes from summer to fall and so I had taken the bin of 6-12 month girl clothes and washed them all in hopes that Molly would be able to wear them this Fall.  


After washing them, I decided to iron them.  I don't always iron my kids' clothes, but I love it when I have the time to do it. 


Anyway, as I was ironing these clothes... the ones that used to be Emily's clothes... I was struck by how tiny they were.  It didn't seem possible that my feisty two year old could have worn those little clothes.  But she did.


For much too brief of a moment, she did.  


And I remembered how sad I was when I packed up those clothes.  I actually cried.  I remember it vividly.  I was sad because they were baby clothes and they didn't fit her anymore.  She was growing.  Too fast.  And I wanted her to stay little longer.  Her baby stage... it had passed in the blink of an eye.  And I wanted to hold onto it for a little longer.


So as I gazed down at this sweet little shirt, I remembered her wearing it.  I remembered her as a baby during those Fall days that passed much to quickly. 

It was my reminder.


My reminder that the stages of her little life... both the good ones and the tough ones... will pass much too quickly.  They will last for just a brief moment.  And before I know it, she will be all grown up.  


And her tears, they won't fall because of fallen flip flops or misplaced baby dolls.  Instead they will fall because of hurt feelings and broken hearts.


And her bedroom door, it won't be closed because she is being punished.  Instead it will be closed because she prefers to be alone and doesn't want me to come in.


And her crying mantra of "I want you hold me", it will be a distant memory.  Instead, I will wish that she would ask me to hold her.  In fact, I will probably give anything to have her want me to to hold her and  lay her sweet head on my shoulder... tears and all... just one more time.


It was a reminder I needed.


So, as terrible as her outbursts can be, today I am reminded of the good things this two year old stage has to offer...


She is sweet.
She is funny.
She has funny speech.
She has a cute space between her two front teeth.
She giggles.  A lot.
She loves to dress up.
She carries a purse and wears lots of jewelry.
She adores her big brother.
She loves to sing.
She has an ornery grin.
She dances.
She is tiny.
She changes her clothes.  A lot.
She takes her babies with her everywhere.
She loves to help me.
She likes to do puzzles.
She loves BandAids.
She eats like a bird.
She likes to wear chapstick.
She likes to read about Fancy Nancy.
She has beautiful eyelashes.
She is a girly girl.
She is precious.
She is wonderful.
She is mine.


Every now and then, I just need to be reminded of these things.  


For along with the tears and temper tantrums, these other little gems of two-year-old-hood will last for too brief of a moment.  

Oh, How I Hope

That these two girls will grow up to be the best of friends!

My Work

***  Note:  This post was actually written several days ago, but I've been so busy "working" that I forgot to post it!  ***


Yesterday was Labor Day.

And yesterday, I thanked Jesus for my husband's good job.  The one that provides for our family and affords me the opportunity to stay at home raising my children.  I realize that I am extremely fortunate to be able "work" on raising children while he "works" to make that possible.

So yesterday, my mind was focused on that blessing and my past jobs were far from my mind.  

Today... well today is a different story!

After listening to my 2 year old scream "I want you hold me" (which translates to 'I'm tired and want out of my car seat') no less than 16,000 times on the drive across town to the eye doctor, whom I was visiting for the umpteenth time, I cowered in embarrassment as my 2 and 5 year olds fell on the ground after an all out tug-of-war ensued over whose turn it was to "play Mommy's phone".  If that wasn't enough to make me think about the allure of my past "jobs", then Noah purposely pushing the eye table onto the man who was graciously (and by gracious I mean, "free of charge") attempting to adjust his glasses while glaring at me with a look of contempt as he said "if he fixes them, I'm just going to keep pushing them down on my nose so they don't fit again" all while Molly was screaming bloody murder (because she, too, hates her car seat) and Emily's chorus of "I want you hold me" carried on at full blast.... that, my friends, was more than enough to make me think about my "labors" of the past.


And so I reminisced...

In October of 1995 (in a day and age where digital cameras didn't exist and the majority of my pictures came from a man affectionately referred to as the "Party Pic Man"), I met my future husband.

We were both Seniors at the University of Kansas.  We were mere months away from being released into the "real world" and well, let's just say that one of us was more ready for that than the other!

By the time I was a Senior, I had already completed two internships (one at what would become Vance's future employer), had plans to study abroad and complete my Master's degree, had a job as a Teaching Assistant to pay for my Graduate School, and had plans to take the CPA Exam. 

I had a good resume, had been through the interview process many times, and had pretty much mapped out my future years and career.  I was even the President of the Accounting Club (yes, I was a nerd!).

And Vance...

Well, he was busy too.  

Doing a lot of this...

He played on the college golf team and for as long as he could walk, he spent almost all of his free time on the golf course!  And his college summers were no different.  By the time Vance was a Senior in college, he had not had a job other than one at the golf course!  I remember him telling me that "playing golf" was his job!

I distinctly remember being more than shocked when he told me he did not have a resume and had not even registered with the Career Services Office!  I knew the night I met him that there was a very good chance he would end up being my husband, so admittedly this news was a little unsettling to me!

While I was the more career minded of the two of us, he was the smarter.  In fact, he was very smart, carrying an almost 4.0 GPA with a Business degree!  So regardless of the fact that he had never had a job, I knew he had good potential!

Given his brains and my knowledge of the Career Services Office, we quickly whipped him into shape!  We got him registered for the interview process, put together his resume, and started down the path of getting him his first job.

"We" were successful and we both graduated and "walked the hill" together.

I vividly remember shopping with Vance and helping him pick out his very first suit... the one he wore on his first day of his first real job with Koch Industries.  

And me?

Well, I went off to Italy for a summer, then went back to KU to finish my Master's Degree in Tax Accounting.  I was very dedicated to my studies and took my career plans very seriously.  I distinctly remember the very spot I was standing when I opened up the envelope that held my grades from my two hardest Tax classes.  In fact, I still feel a rush of energy race through my body when I look at this piece of paper...

And this one...

Meanwhile, my sweet fiance (as we eventually became engaged) was doing well in his job and was quickly promoted.  His promotion came with a transfer... to the Twin Cities to work in a Sulfuric Acid Plant.  Yep... that's what I thought too when I heard the news :)

So Vance moved to Minnesota and started his new career while I went on to take the CPA exam, interviewed for jobs in Minneapolis, and graduated from Graduate School just a few months before our wedding.  

We got married and I moved to Minnesota to start my first official job as a Tax Consultant with PricewaterhouseCoopers.  We were traditional "DINK's"... Double Income, No Kids.  

After I adjusted to the outrageous traffic, I really enjoyed working in downtown Minneapolis.  It was fast paced and full of new experiences.  I worked in what I would describe as a somewhat "cut-throat" environment where "mandatory 60 hour" work weeks were the norm.  

But I wanted to succeed and so I spent many, many hours laboring in my little cubicle on the 15th floor of the rounded bank building in the middle of the Minneapolis metropolis.  


I lunched out with my colleague friends, dressed up daily, and carried a briefcase.  I had important conversations and was given big responsibilities... at least I thought they were big!  I sort of thrived in this little environment and enjoyed the professionalism of it all.

But Vance... his plans were beginning to change.  He started to aspire for something different, something more.  He started to get the itch to push his career in a different direction.  Given that I had always been the more career minded of the two of us, I was secretly excited to see him aspire for bigger and better things.

One evening, we opened up an envelope that pushed our lives in yet another direction.

Vance had been accepted to the University of Texas and made the decision to pursue a Master's Degree in Business.  

So after two short years, I said goodbye to my little cubicle and downtown Minneapolis.

And Vance said good riddance to his office at the Acid Plant (AND the baby blue Ford Taurus that came with it)!

And we headed south to Austin, Texas so that Vance could begin Graduate School. 

Vance attended UT full time and for the next two years, he spent lots of hours working here...

And I got a new cubicle with PricewaterhouseCoopers in a new bank building on the corner of the famed 6th & Congress in Austin, Texas.  I loved working in downtown Austin. 
   

But as much as I loved my life at the time, I distinctly remember seeing what I thought were stay-at-home mom's out lunching with their friends after their yoga class at the gym. I secretly thought their life looked to be much more enjoyable than mine.  After all, I had to finish my lunch and return to my little cubicle world while those toned and tan stay-home-mom's got to go on walks and shop in the fun downtown boutiques.  I thought I would one day like to be a stay-home mom like them!  But for the moment, I was a working woman supporting my husband.

Vance and I maintained our "DINK's" status and continued to focus on our careers.  I felt a sense of pride in being able to support us financially while Vance was in school.  And I did my best to excel in my career.  I became involved in training and recruiting... I did just about anything and everything there was to do in my local PwC office.  I worked.  


A Lot.  

I was (am still am) so proud of Vance when he graduated with his MBA in May of 2002.  

That month and year combination probably doesn't mean much to anyone except the MBA graduates who graduated in that year... especially those that just got an MBA in Energy Finance!

A little something called the "collapse of Enron" changed our career plans once again.  Vance and I both experienced some career set backs at that time and I ultimately ended up pursing another career ambition of mine... starting my own professional speaking career.  I attended the Protocol School of Washington and became trained and certified as an Etiquette Consultant.  You see, over the years, I watched the "older gals" in my office have babies and try to continue in their public accounting careers.  It didn't seem to work very well, given the demanding hours that are inherently necessary as a Tax CPA.  And so I had been investigating career ideas that would allow me to have a more flexible work life for the time that Vance and I had a family.  


And so I began my Etiquette Consulting business and it was very successful.  I am part of a very rare breed of people... I actually love public speaking.  And I found great personal reward in helping business people and college students acquire a skill set that would enable them to further their own professional careers.  And I still got to dress up and carry a brief case!  I was even often on the news touting my advice about business and children's etiquette!

Eventually, Vance found his way back to Koch after having been gone for 4 years.  We were blessed to end up back in Wichita and by that time, we had been blessed with the birth of Noah.  


Staying home with him quickly became my desire.  All of the professionalism and career plans that I had worked toward for so many years quickly became meaningless to me.  I wanted only to be with him, to raise him, to teach him, to stay at home with him.  I remembered what those stay-home mom's looked like in Austin.... the ones who lunched after their yoga classes!  And that was the life I now wanted too!


I consider it a tremendous blessing to be able to continue to be a stay-home-mom.  Vance is a hard worker and provides well for our family.  I often tease him by reminding him that if he had not met me, he might still be playing golf for a living!


Both Vance and my careers look very different from what we both might have imagined back in 1995, sitting in the "Computer Center" at the Business School scouring through the different job opportunities.   It took a lot of schooling, a lot of years of working in the fast paced career world, and a lot of sacrifices on the part of both Vance and me to get here, but I feel like I have finally achieved my ultimate career goal.


And it's not in a downtown metropolis or in a cubicle.


I now "work" here....

and here...

and here...

and here...

and here...

My CPA is not current, I don't carry a brief case and on most days, I don't even put on make up, let alone dress up!  I lunch with little people and in my 5 year career as a stay-home-mom, I have never, ever, lunched with a friend after a relaxing yoga class!  In fact, I've never even taken a yoga class!  Beting a "stay-home-mom" is ,in actuality, much different, much harder than how I fantasized it would be while looking at those ladies (who suspiciously never had children with them!) in Austin.  Nevertheless, I love my "job" and feel that it is the "work" that I am currently called to do.  


There are days though, like today, when my mind wanders back to those days when I had what I considered to be important conversations and I walked the streets of the big city over my lunch hour... and I can't help but wander what it would be like to do it again.  And maybe someday I will?


But for now, my work is here.  At home.


I carry a diaper bag instead of a brief case...
My public speaking is on the topic of how to treat your sibling with respect instead of on how to properly introduce yourself...
My lunch conversations are with toddlers instead of with colleagues...
My wardrobe consists of sweatpants instead of suits...
My office resides within in my home instead of a fancy bank building...
My important conversations are about obedience and Jesus' love instead of tax planning strategies for corporations...

And my big responsibilities.... well they are much, much bigger now than any I've had in the past! 


This is my job now.  It didn't take an internship, a graduate degree, or a certification to get it.  Yet is is the hardest, most desirable, and without a doubt, the most important one I've ever had!


Vance and I... we've been a team over the many years, working our way to where we are today.  Thank you, Vance, for being such a hard worker so that I can continue my "work" here with our children!  I love you for encouraging me even on days like today when I feel like throwing in the towel and going back to the city streets, the suits, and the cubicles!


Oh, and in case you were worried, Vance still gets plenty of time on the golf course!  Turns out that having a good golf game is a pretty desireable skill in the business world! 

(Vance wins the Koch Minerals summer golf league this summer)