To: Mom

My mom is a beautiful woman. She is smart, first off. She is a counselor, and she dedicates her life to others. Need I say more?

Yes, I do.

I remember a lot of things about my mom from when I was young. I remember her cooking in the little matchbox of a kitchen we had in Waterloo. I remember peonies and walks. I remember being read to and tucked in.

Later, I remember her typewriter that was in her office in Traer. She was a music teacher, and I don't know why they had a typewriter in that office, but they did. I have typed on a typewriter in my life. My kids should know that.

I remember watching her in awe as she played trumpet in the symphony. I remember sitting up in the top row of the auditorium and listening to her part. I remember she had to wear black for that. A black, long dress.

My mom made lists for us with chores we could choose from, and she left notes on our table if she left early in the morning. She made beautiful dinners and created fabulous Christmases for us. I remember the year that all I wanted was a black leather jacket in high school. I never dreamed they would buy it for me, but it was there. I still have that jacket, and I love it. (For the love language people out there, I'm a gifts/acts of service type of person). :)

I have warm memories of my mom. One where she is laying out behind our white privacy fence in Traer, with Skin-so-Soft slathered on her body and cotton balls over her eyes. Our strawberry patch and our pantry. The routine she created for me and my pogo ball for the talent show. What's a pogo ball kids? I don't know that I can adequately explain that. Google it. 


I remember once when I was so, so sad. Life was unfair. I was a teenager. I was sobbing uncontrollably in my bed. I had never been so sad, or felt so alone ever before. I remember she came upstairs and sat next to me while I cried. She said nothing at all. No lecture, no life lessons. She was just there.

Over the years, this way that she has of just being there, has continued to change my life. She has been there for each birth of my children. She has been there, holding my hand each time through the pain and tears and joy. She has seen each baby's first breath.

She has come when I've been sick. She has come when I have been overwhelmed by the world and the mess around me. She has come to celebrate. She wouldn't miss a birthday for the world. She has come to plant gardens and flowers and trees and to beautify land that was dead before. Not for her, but for me.

My mom has taught me the kind of mom I want to be. She has taught me the kind of person I hope to be.

I want you to know that I love you Mom! Thank you for all that you have done for me, for us, for everyone. Thank you for always being there.

Everyday I'm shuffling

I realize my last post was extremely boring and mostly for me. It's possible that most of them probably are come to think of it. So if you haven't completely written off reading this blog, I'm shocked.

I drove Sophie to the ortho this morning to cast her broken arm. Yep, a broken arm. This is a mothering first for me, which is surprising considering I have three (=1,000,000) kids, none of whom have a care in the world for their own safety or well-being. So we ventured out together on this new adventure, only to find out Sophie doesn't need a cast, just a brace and that she can....wait for it....SWIM with this brace on and even play soccer again! We stepped outside the clinic after this news and placement of the brace and she began to dance in the parking lot. At first, I was confused by this because this was Soph, not Olivia. I shrugged as we started to skip and dance to the van and I said, "What are we doing?!" And Soph said without missing a beat, "I'm shuffling!"

Everyday I'm shuffling.

She was happy. Joy. 

There were many reasons to shuffle today. The cool Iowa morning. The beautiful sun with big billowy clouds. The blooming flowers and the smell of freshly cut grass. The perfect HOMEmade iced caramel latte that I consumed, made with love for me by me with my brand new espresso machine.

You see, life is good.

There are moments in my life when things look so dark, and I'm overwhelmed by the disaster I've become. My life, too busy. My priorities, not right. My weight...sigh. And it's funny what a difference a few days can make, a weekend, a Sunday, a renewing of spirit. Where my reverse anorexia is back and I'm mentally extremely good looking and skinny. Please don't shatter my reality with a picture or anything. Thanks. Things seem to eventually get sorted out once the shake up is over and my vision is cleared. And then...whoa. The world just seems right. The days and the nights, so beautiful. The gifts in my life, overwhelmingly generous. The problems I was so consumed with worry over, small and out of my hands.

It is always hard for me to remember that God isn't surprised by my shortcomings. He doesn't slap his hand over his mouth aghast at my mothering failures or my flaws. He knows me, inside and out. And he loves me. Yep, I don't get it either. It seems that it takes me a while to remember these things, and during the process, it's dark in here. But then the shake up is over and the dust settles and I can see the truth.

My good friend's grandpa had a bad disease as he grew older, and it changed his memory and the personality he was once known for. I remember, and always will remember, the song she told me reminded her of him and where he was now. "I can see clearly now the rain is gone. I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It's gonna be a bright, bright, bright, bright sunshiny day." When he died, his clouds were gone and he could see again. And I think that maybe I'm like that too sometimes, in a different way.

Even though it isn't always easy to do, as life is sometimes, very dark....I think God wants us to see joy, to think about things that bring joy, to bask in the light he has so graciously provided. To shuffle, if you will.

And we will.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Philippians 4:8