As the Phase Turns

Just the other day I was sitting with my oldest snuggled up with me watching the Olympics. As I felt his weight against me, I began to recall a story to him about a time not so long ago that I sat in a little upstairs apartment, the streetlights flooding through the window, eating yogurt covered raisins and pretzels - a craving I must have had - and watching the summer Olympic games. I was six months pregnant with him.

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was an exciting time in our ministry. It was an exciting time in our marriage. We'd finally 'come back home' officially from being off the road. This little boy that was growing inside me had been moving and growing and rolling around. You could finally actually see my stomach move. At the risk of sounding romantic, it was magical.

And I can remember thinking to myself one of those nights, "The next time I watch the summer Olympics, he will be almost four." I'm sure I cried.

You see, I've always known the time would fly. Maybe it is a blessing, I've tried to soak up every moment. Maybe it's a curse, I'm always distinctly aware time is fleeting. But when that sweet little boy, who is now 'almost 8', was curled up against me and concluded my story with, "The next time we watch the summer Olympics, I will be almost 12," my heart swelled into my throat, and I had to fight back the tears.

What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.

James 4:14

There have been a lot of tears lately, if I'm honest. My youngest is about to be off to kindergarten, my oldest is going into second grade, and I have never been a mom who has counted down the days until school starting. Quite the contrary... I'll need a box of Kleenex and a quiet place to sob when the first day comes around. In the last few years, the honest me would say that I miss the ages of my children several years ago. Four and two... I loved everything about that time in our lives. 

I loved playdates and homemade projects. I loved blowing bubbles and park visits. I loved afternoon naptime when I could finally 'get something done'. Then I loved realizing that my favorite thing to get done was just being 'mom.' I loved the sweet little way they mis-spoke words and holding them close when words or things hurt. 

And though I've never been a 'wish it away' type mom, it's taken these recent tears for me to realize what I have become. I've become a "wish for what was" mother. 

Lord forbid I miss today because I'm digging in my heels to slow it down. What highs will I hurt through allowing the shadow of things that once were to steal today's sunshine? In five years, if I realize how sweet this phase was, but I missed it because I was dwelling on the one that came before, I'm no better off than having wished it away to begin with. 

Will I cry on the first day of school? You betcha I will. It's a new milestone. Every moment of the last eight years was based on my being home with our babies until they both started school. Change is hard sometimes. Sometimes it's a good hard, but hard still hurts. 

Do I miss my babies being babies? Of course I do, but how thankful I am for all of the sweet memories I have and for healthy growing kiddos. 

What I will not do, however, is get so caught up in yesterday that I miss today. I will love this phase. I will love the little cackle laugh from A as you tickle her armpits. I will love B's perseverance and will to try, try, and try again. I will love the fact that they are still small enough (barely) for me to pick up and hold in my arms. I will love that Ans still tells me I look beautiful and that she loves me, for no reason at all. I will love that B still wants to have family time. I will love this place in life, our here and now, in all of what seems imperfect, that I've learned well enough to know I will at some point miss desperately. 

Sure - my heart hurts. The page turns. Life continues. But there are good pages to come... sweet pages. It's time to stop rereading the beginning of the story and continue on with the rest of the book.

The Story of Us

Your eyes saw me before I was born. 

Every day of my life was recorded in Your book.

Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.

Psalm 139:16

This is the story of us. You and me. Where we began. Where we have been. 

I have learned not to project where we are going. 

Boy met girl when I was 16. We won't comment on your age, but it was all innocent enough. It was a brief encounter in the skating rink for a sweet friend of mine to set up a tennis game with you. You were wearing a visor with a Jesus fish on it, but you didn't know of Him yet. We were in and out, and she and I were gone. 

We both went on living. 

Somehow, we'd gone seven years with you working a mile from my house, and I had never noticed you before. I hadn't even heard your name in my little small town where my dad knew everyone. Yet, after that initial meeting your name kept popping up. 

As time would continue, you and I became acquaintances. You knew so and so and so did I. Our circles started to overlap, and I got to know you more. I was privileged to consider you a friend when you wrestled with the Lord over your salvation. It is so precious to me, your love for the Lord. The way you loved Jesus in the months and years that followed would radically challenge me in my own walk with Christ. Your desire was that everyone know the love and forgiveness you knew in Him. His love oozed out of you. You were either getting my peers out of football practice to take them to church or offering a homeless man a warm meal. Selfless. Real. 

Our friendship grew. Eventually, you would become my boss. I still don't know what you were thinking hiring this person who hadn't stepped in a skating rink for that many years, but you did. Then, you would become my youth pastor. My heart, tattered during much of this time and broken in life and in my walk with Christ, needed the Jesus that oozed from you. 

I can remember the first time I uttered the words to a friend. We were on a walk. It was October. I heard myself say it out-loud. "I don't know who I'll marry, but I want it to be someone like him." And it was innocent. I never thought I'd be lucky enough for it to be you. 

In the months to follow, I'd found myself in love... in love with your love for the Lord. In love with your love for people. In love with you. My mind flooded with the 'what ifs' and the 'no, it can't bes', and I'd pray at night that God would take any feelings I had for you away. You. My employer. My youth pastor. My friend. This could never be. I pled, and I cried, and the feelings remained.

Finally, one night, I changed my prayer, "Lord, if you aren't going to take these feelings away, show me how this is going to work." And little by little, it all worked out. 

We did it all 'right', and waited it out. I didn't think World Changers would ever be over, but we made it. We finally got to start this journey of 'us'. 

The next year and a half were filled with Steak n Shake and movies, trips to Sams, Tiger Woods golf on the playstation and Pizza Hut pizza. I looked forward to Monday nights all week long. 7th Heaven and Everwood on the WB, thin crust hamburger pizza and breadsticks. Best. Nights. Ever. Who would have known years later we'd have our own "Bryt" in the house?!

We knew early on we wanted to marry. I kept guessing on when the proposal would come. In the summer of 2004 I left you for seven long weeks to work summer camps. Myself (and a large handful of others) felt for sure I'd be engaged before summer was out. In fact, the Wild Week family all had non-monetary bets that Glorietta was going to be the time. Shoot... even my real family thought that! At one point you told me you were sending me a 'package', and I felt for sure you were going to show up on that mountain somewhere. A couple days later I received some of your sweatshirts in the mail. Thankful for the warmth (and the fact that they smelled like you), I was only a little mad at you ;)

When I got home, we hit the ground running again. I was in school and working and Christmas was rounding the corner. I remember you asking me what I wanted. My list looked something like this:

- you

- a wedding

- you

- a honeymoon

- you

Well... you get the drift. And as I was always trying to deflate my hopes about Christmas, my birthday rolled along. You were fighting one terrible case of kidney stones. You'd just taken hydrocodone for the pain but were insisting that we go to Alongi's to eat. I'm pretty sure I raised my voice and refused to go and told you that you were crazy. Birthday or not, you were pitiful. 

But somehow you got me there... and my parents... and your parents... and some time before our food came I looked over and you were on one knee. And the place erupted in clapter. Or something like that. Our story was being written. Hydrocodone and all. (Bet you wish you would have considered that Glorietta thing on the mountain, huh? :) )

Eight months later I had the privilege of watching you watch me walk down the aisle. It's one of those moments that I'm so very thankful that God included in our story. After all, it's what makes it 'our' story. I don't know that I've ever smiled so much in my life. I smile now just thinking about it... our little life in our little house on Park Street. Our newlywed home. 

Since then... we've had quite the journey. 10 months after our wedding day we were packing our life away to go on the road. Countless salvations, miles and hotel rooms, lots of learning to be married in a confined space with only your spouse, and many, many, many awesome experiences and adventures later, we were ready to 'settle' back down. Somehow, we still haven't done much of that settling... 15 months on the road then gave way to 8 years, 9 addresses, 2 children, who knows how many car exchanges and a countless number of highs and lows. 

It's been eleven years now. 11. Sometimes, when I don't think about the journey between, it feels like only yesterday we were dating. I can still remember the smell of your apartment, the view of your profile from the passenger seat of the Matrix, and I can hear the sound of your voice on the phone before I went to bed at night. 

If only I knew then how much I'd love you now... 

To see you love our kids... 

To see you love your friends... 

To see your love for His church... 

To see your love for strangers... 

All has deepened this love for you that began when I was just a teenager. This love for the Lord that you have maintained all of these years, continues to draw my heart to you all these years later... deeper, more intimately.

We've been through it... some of the most exciting times, some of the most excruciating times, but that's the glory of life lived together... WE live it. Side by side. For the glory of God. 

And you know what, after all of these years, all of these experiences... all of the exciting and the excruciating, I choose you more. I choose you more than I chose you 11 years ago. I say "I DO" more affectionately and more absolutely than I did in the white dress on the pink alter on that hot day in August. I am so thankful that when the Lord was orchestrating our pages, long before either of us were born, He was writing our pages together... this story that He is writing is my favorite. 

Here's to many, many, many more. I'm excited to see how our story continues...

The Here and Now

I do not dare to convey that we've walked through the worst of times. We have not. In fact, most of my days have been easy. I was twenty-six when I lost the first person I was close to, a grandparent. Granted, I would lose two more over the course of a couple years, but that isn't the intention of this story.

You see, I wasn't naive. You can only be a Christian so long - well - you can only be a human being, really, to know that life isn't always easy. We are all on this ride together and inevitably pain, hardship, and unfavorable circumstances will greet us all, often unexpectedly. I was keenly aware of this fact. I often had lie awake at night wondering if this would be the last 'normal' night of our lives.

"Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you." - 1 Peter 4:12

Maybe I am a pessimist and a worrier, and maybe I am just a realist, but when our current trial came I was in no way expecting it to look, feel, or effect us as it did. By the grace of God, my family is intact, we have our health, and we have seen true friends that have stood alongside us, but the level of surprise, hurt and anger felt over the past many months have been exhausting. Literally, a good portion of our days, most waking moments, are lived in some way dealing with the aftermath of it all. I understand now when people say an experience is 'all consuming'. It is not only in thought, but in deed. 

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." - Matthew 11:28

I have not blogged much in the last four years. I haven't neglected the blog due to lack of desire... rather, lack of inspiration. The Lord has been so good and so faithful in our lives over the last four years. In many ways, these have been some of the sweetest moments of our lives. The husband had been more satisfied in work and ministry than ever, our sweet babies were growing through what I believe may always be the most precious moments of life (not that they don't have many more to come), and we have made incredible friends, many whom feel like family. My relationship with the Lord was real and vibrant, and the Lord showed me things about Himself each and every day, but the desperate need that I'd once felt for Him was not as prevalent amongst  the roses. 

"If you want God's grace, all you need is need..." - Timothy Keller

"When the righteous call out for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all of their troubles.  The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:17-18

And then the bottom fell out. The storm rolled in. The rock gave way. The fire came. And so did pain. And so did anger. And so did doubt. And so did Jesus. Jesus came. 

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." - John 10:10

Abundance. It doesn't always look how we expect it to appear. Abundance for me right now has come in many ways. It has come in the music and talk radio to and from school each day. It has come in the church service we choose to visit each week. It has come through the words of friends and family. It has come through scripture posted, well, just about everywhere. It has come in the devotional books of my children, and it has come through the most unexpected sources... and though we have great need... we have an abundance with Jesus. 

For two weeks I've felt the Lord impressing on me that at this moment He may be less concerned with our upcoming destination and more concerned with our journey getting there. Maybe God's intention with this season in our lives is not to see us in a particular place, but to see us grow in a particular way. For we are not there yet... we are here, and it is in this present moment that He desires to meet with us, to grow us, to firmly foot us deep into the foundation of this faith He has birthed within us. Today, today I was led into this scripture at church:

"But God led the people around by the way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea. And the people of Israel went up out of the land of Egypt equipped for battle.  Moses took the bones of Joseph with him, for Joseph had made the sons of Israel solemnly swear, saying, “God will surely visit you, and you shall carry up my bones with you from here.”  And they moved on from Succoth and encamped at Etham, on the edge of the wilderness.  And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them along the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, that they might travel by day and by night. The pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night did not depart from before the people." - Exodus 13:18-22

It is the culmination of the Lord's whisperings in a big, loud yell. He isn't only walking with us through this wilderness, He is orchestrating it. Every nook, every cranny, every extra step and restep. Sure, it'd be shorter to go from here to there, but the long way leads us nearer to Jesus. The wilderness may be the most uncomfortable, but Jesus is near to the broken-hearted. He is near and He is protecting us. 

Lauren Chandler says, "sometimes He wrings the worship from our hearts." 

I believe this is such a time. The unbridled, unkempt, raw worship being wrung from within us to the very throne of God. It isn't fancied up. It isn't rehearsed or planned out... it's brought forth in tears and praise in the same raspy breath, "Jesus." 

So though I would have never chosen this path for our family, though I would have never wanted these trials, I am so very thankful for Jesus... the one with us in the roses and the trenches, the one with us on the mountain and in the valley, the one with us even in the wilderness. 

He Works Together All Things

Approximately 25 years ago I sat in a church pew most Sundays with my grandma Peggy. I was a little girl who liked twirly skirts and shoes that tapped when I walked. (Surprising now, I know.) Sundays were the perfect time to feel cute and to sit with grandma doing something I knew made her happy.

One Sunday I heard the Pastor preach from Matthew. His message was on being a sheep or a goat. The sermon was simple, sheep go to be with Jesus, goats do not. I wanted to be a sheep. That was my first real encounter with the gospel, and I've carried those verses as part of my testimony ever since. 

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In 2004 - when I was 19 - I worked as staff for a Christian summer camp for students. I was introduced to a young evangelist who was in charge of all of the evangelism efforts at the camp. I was his right hand 'woman'. I watched him and sat beside him on countless nights, at countless camps, with countless students as he introduced them to Jesus and led them through scripture as their eyes were opened and their hearts became receptive. 

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In August of 2005 Aaron and I married. We lived in our old hometown. God moved us around here and there. Then we went back 'home', had a couple of kids, and ultimately felt God was moving us onward. The year was 2011, and the next thing we knew, God had brought us to a church being pastored by that same evangelist I'd worked alongside 7 years ago. 

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Last night, as we were going through our normal bedtime routine, I sat down with the kids to read the Bible. The topic of the night was sheep and the Shepherd. I explained the sheep were people - us - and that the Shepherd was Jesus - that those of us who are sheep hear Jesus' voice, recognize it and follow Him. Memories of my grandma Peggy and my sitting in that pew really hearing the gospel for the first time flooded back, and, in passing, I mentioned to B that God saved me with scripture much like this, about being a sheep or a goat. 

Last night, God led my baby boy to Himself using similar scripture that He called me with. He used the faithfulness of my ( now deceased ) grandmother who faithfully took her grandbaby to church. (I can't imagine the party that ensued...) Lesson 1: The legacy you leave reaches much further than what you can see, and chances are, if you're a Christian, God had been preparing a way for you to get to Him LONG before you were even born.

And today - today I sat in the Pastor's office, hearing him talk to MY little boy just as he had those students 11 years ago. Had I known then... I could not have fathomed. So many times in life we wonder 'why' and 'what was that all about' and 'how does this fit in with God's plan' -- and that brings me to Lesson 2: God always has a plan. He's always working it together for good for those who love Him. Sometimes we can't see it, sometimes we can't understand it, and sometimes we'll never see it, but sometimes, yes, sometimes we get to see a small piece of years worth of God's orchestrating out our lives come to a hard, beautiful collision, and it's awesome and overwhelming and an incredible blessing. 

His love for us is beyond anything I can understand. 

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, 9not a result of works, so that no one may boast. 10For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

Ephesians 2:8-10

God is so good. We are so blessed. 

Ramblings Regarding Influence

In what seems like a previous life I had the privilege of walking with my husband in the realm of student ministry. I started a newly-wed, and finished a young mother. My oldest turned three just weeks after my husband accepted the call into full time worship ministry.

All that said to say --- I don't think I ever really 'got it' until now.

By 'it' I mean that I didn't get the weightiness of the trust it took for parents to allow me to be an influencer in their child's lives. Don't misunderstand me. I knew the call itself was weighty. There wasn't a decision made or advice given to a student without a load of prayer involved, but I never thought much about what it required of that parent to allow me the privilege to give that advice.

And this year, my oldest started Kindergarten. You know, it's one of those milestones that few parents, mothers especially, escape from unscathed. There are tears, sometimes many. There is sadness, sometimes great. And there is emptiness, often heavy. I think all parents feel that.

I knew I would be different though. From the moment he started his last year of preschool I knew I would struggle. I've never understood those who pump fists and shout for freedom at the start of a school day. What I don't understand most is passing my child over to a person I've probably never met, for the greatest portion of their best awake hours, to become, in theory, one of the largest influencers in their lives.

I have a problem with that. Just sayin'. (And I'll totally say it outloud... or... well, type it bluntly, I'm totally considering homeschool.)

Please don't judge me. I know a lot of teachers. (I used to work in an elementary school.) I would choose a great many of those teachers to be a providing influencer in the life of my child. I don't know that I would choose many of those to be the primary influencer in the life of my child, and that is not a hit to the teacher at all. For me, it is the weightiness of the responsibility that God gave to me the responsibility of training my baby up in the way of the Lord, and unless I can get to know them for, say, a few years, and then have them endure an in-depth interview process, I think giving that responsibility away from 8-3 every day is preposterous. (Honest, not judging those who feel 100% okay in public school at all, either. I've been one of those for a long time, and I firmly believe God calls us to different things, at different times, for different reasons. AND - we are still in the public school system right now!)

Before I go any further, allow me to mention that this post isn't about public school (or private school, or homeschool, or unschool, or any other kind of school, for that matter). No, this blog isn't even about shielding my children from the world or other ideas that could have been assumed. This blog is actually about the fact that I know, without a doubt, that my child needs us - their parents - primarily in their lives, but they also vitally need other influencers in their lives.

I'm setting us all up here. I'm so thankful for the parents who allowed their student to hang out and talk to me at our house, when I now know that they so badly wanted to be the one talking to them. I'm so thankful they trusted me to be an ally, an advocate for their child, to be their voice. Because, lets face it, at some point, our kids need adults who aren't us.

And here's what this post is about: what am I looking for in an influencer?

My kiddos are still young. I still have a chance to formulate relationships with men and women who can watch my kids as they grow and speak into their lives when the extent of the guidance is the correct way to swing the bat in baseball or how to treat a teammate who just struck out and lost the game for the team. Those relationships will soon be the ones who may get the privilege of talking to my children about the party they've considered sneaking off to, or about the bullying they've endured at school. We are so lucky to have awesome church friends, other parents, ministry leaders, and coaches speaking into the lives of our kids, and, trust me, we've seen our fair share of, well, not good influencers.

Men in the church abandoning their families.
Coaches in little league yelling at kids who aren't their own.
Worse, dads yelling at their own kids and ripping apart their performance.

And it's made us diligent. It's made us ask tough questions. And it all leads me to this (deep breath and drum roll, after that novel):

5 Traits of a Great Influencer:

1. No cowards. For real, be real. Life gets hard. This one is huge. My kid comes to you and wants to sneak out to that party, a great influencer needs to tell them they've lost their ever loving minds and their parents will not deny wrath for such an offense. Feel free to share your own "I tried this and you really shouldn't go down that path" stories. Then, they need to relay the message. Secrets and safety do not mix. Scale the scenario down a notch, and if you happen to be my kids coach or tutor or be teaching them some skill, if my kid's not performing his / her best (hear me, I'm not talking perfection here, their best, which implies that the influencer knows my child well enough to know their 'best performance'), they need to have the grace and the courage to drive them to do their best. And one more biggie on not being cowardly: a great influencer knows when and how to apologize. We are all human, and in relationship, we all make mistakes. I don't care if you're 40 and the time comes to apologize to my 4 year old. Do it. I do. All the time. Is it humbling? Miserably. But we all need that from time to time. Bonus points if you teach my kid the proper times for him / her to apologize, too.

2. Established relationships. This stuff is messy. There's nothing more frustrating to me than someone who doesn't really know me from anyone and wants to start spouting off advice or tell me things I need to change. Nope. Chances are you'll make me mad and I'll do the opposite. Some of the hardest things I've had to hear are from people who love me the most. That established relationship is the only thing that allowed me to really hear and consider what they had to say, and it's also the only thing that kept me in the relationship after the hard thing was heard. Don't think you can choose where you have an influence and where you don't. One thing I learned in student ministry, nothing was 'out of bounds'. Ask any coach, teacher, mentor, etc. You'd be surprised the things that kids / students confide in them.

3.) We have to be on the same page. We live in Texas, and we are Cardinal fans. Chances are, we aren't going to find many friends around here pushing the Cardinals for us to our kids. But- great influencers are going to know our faith, and even if they spiritually don't have all the answers for our kids, they are going to know that our answer is always going to be one that aligns with our faith, and a great influencer will echo that.

4.) They meet our kids where they are. I noticed something during our son's little league baseball game the other day. (May I mention, for the record, we have amazing coaches.) He is in coach pitch now and the coach has tailored a specific style of pitch for every kid. He knows where they like them. He knows where they hit the best. He knows what speed the ball needs to come in, and he knows where it needs to cross the plate. Does he try to stretch them? Yes. But when push comes to shove in a game, if a kid typically hits the one that's fast and a little outside, that is the pitch he's going to throw them. This also aligns with number 2... knowing my kid, but it fits just as well here. My son isn't much of a talker at first. He's a little quiet and gets nervous easy, and the only way to bring him out of that is to talk to him, often, and it's sometimes awkward, but that is meeting him where he is. Eventually, he'll talk back. My little girl, well, she'll talk your ear off. You want to meet her where she's at, you gotta be able to listen. Fast forward 10 years and meeting them where they are may look much different, but a great influencer is going to not only meet them there, chances are they aren't going to leave them there either.

5.) This one goes without really mentioning, but I feel compelled to mention it. Be a good influence. Yeah, I said it. Want to be a great influencer? Set an example for my child to follow. Ultimately, I want them to follow Christ, but they learn what that looks like in a visual way by watching men / women who are already do it. Display attributes they want to mirror. Don't throw your hat and yell at an ump. And if you do, apologize --- to the ump, preferably in front of my kid, and then to my kid (and all the others). Hear me, hear me, I'm just as guilty as the next one. We had a little league game last night and I was off the bench and fuming mad as my little man hit an in the air to center field double then got called out for 'throwing his bat' (he in NO WAY threw his bat, and a boy from the other team had all but taken out the third baseman EVERY time he had batted with no thrown bat call... did I mention this is a U7 league?!). I watched my "young for the league" kiddo CRY in the dugout and my mom claws came out. I had to focus and think about what he was seeing in me at that moment. I aired my frustration in a private way to those around me and didn't end up needing to apologize, but I could have. It happens. It does. But let's think real hard about the behaviors that our kids will come to mimic.

So there it is. Be a great influencer. Be one that is true, present, on our side, flexible and worth mimicking. You are treasured more than you know, as you are being trusted with our most. prized. possessions. We are handing you a bit of the reigns of the responsibility and weightiness that we've been given by God, and trust me, that is not a decision we have taken lightly. And we are ever thankful for those who have allowed us or are allowing us the same investment into theirs. Thanks for traveling this journey with us... it really takes a village. I just prefer to choose mine ;)

What other things do you all look for in a great influencer?

To B & A

In the thick stands a tree
firm and deep rooted,
His leaves the deep thoughts
budding tight in the wind.
Err the wind blows,
the leaves, they don't falter
but dance in the current and hold firm to the end.
Solid and sure his branches jet outward
his roots reach down inward,
his gaze, it transcends.
Absorbing the drink of knowledge and knowing
His words may be few
but his thoughts never end.
Yet near that tree flitting,
dancing and singing
the bird she is flying but doesn't descend.
Rather she rests upon strong reaching branches
While breaking from joyfully riding the wind.
Unlike the tree she moves without thinking
and risks all worth risking and yet does not bend.
Her chirp, quite the giggle, her joy not lacking
all while shamelessly deeming the tree her best friend.
The tree, he is steady, a tree in his being,
Always a branch from him there to lend,
She nests and she rests in all of his glory,
Chirping him love songs again and again.
The tree, in his quiet, he shades and protects her,
lifts her, is with her from now to the end,
And she tickles the bark with innocent nonsense
And she brings forth his laughter, hidden deeply within.
So very different, yet here for each other
the tree and the bird, through thick and through thin
Thoughtful and true meets joyful surrender
Each their own being, yet better as friends.

When God Waits On Me

I've spent much of my life contemplating what I wanted to do when I grew up. Think about it. I'm 30. Generally, somewhere around toddler-hood people start filling your brain with the 'you can do whatever you want to do when you grow up' jargon, by somewhere around 1st grade every school-going lad wants to be a teacher when they grow up (me included), and by 6th grade they are handing you a skills assessment and revealing to you your destiny. To say I've contemplated 'the rest of my life' since I was a kid is an understatement.

How that affects us - much to my dismay - when I not only graduate high school, but also college, wondering what in the world God wants from me! Worse... how much of a disappointment I must be to God, who certainly has directed me and made painfully clear what He has planned, and I've missed it. Sure, they say you can be anything you want to be (which I have theological issues with, anyway, but that's another blog for another time), but what if you have no idea what that is?

For people who are type A, as I am, it's torture. It feels like failure. It feels like disappointment.

I've prayed many, many, many times in my life for God to write it on the wall in the middle of the night, for Him to speak to me in a dream, I've physically yelled, "HERE I AM, LORD, SEND ME!" and here I've sat.

But ---

I now know... I wasn't ready.

In days of late, I feel closer than I've ever been. I feel like I may be onto something here. I feel like He may finally be removing the scales from my eyes. Loose ends abound. Questions still remain, "Is this my dream or is it God's will? And my prayer pleads, "Your will be done, Lord, not mine." But that means I have to aspire towards it. It means I have to make action steps, because maybe this dream of mine was born when I was. Maybe when the Lord knit me together, He knit me together for such a time as this.

And my 20 year old self, yes, well, she wouldn't have entertained this idea. In fact, the thought would have never occurred to her.

My 25 year old self, she would have laughed and waved it off. She would have been Jonah and run completely the opposite direction.

I don't even think my 29 year old self was prepared for this.

And the moral of the story is this: if you are 5, 15, 25 or 105 and don't really know where life is heading, push into Him. He'll either tell you or He'll be silent, and if He's silent, it's because you aren't ready for it yet and He's prepping you every. step. of. the. way.

I'm 30. For the first time I have a real dream with an end goal. It's my 30 year old dream, not to be confused with what He'll do in my life for my 40, 50 or 60 year old dream, but I thank God for His faithfulness and wisdom in holding out on me, for my own good.

Prayerfully pushing forward and praying God's provision in opening doors -

-A

My Girl

Some know this and some do not, but I knew... the Lord had impressed upon me long before A was knit together in the womb, that she would be part of our family. We had two names picked out for B, a boy name and a girl name, and when we found out B would be a B, well, Ansley's name felt void, empty... and I knew she'd come, I just knew it.

Fast forward to my pregnancy with her, and before I knew she was a 'her', we had two names picked out, a boys name and a girls name. The boys name was for traditional purposes only. I knew we wouldn't need it. I'd already bought girl clothes. I was not surprised to see the 'hamburger' on the ultrasound. Not in the least.

She's special like that. Until God states otherwise, she has completed our family. God knew I'd need to laugh a bit more... He knew B would need a fierce friend and companion... He knew daddy needed a little girl, with a personality precisely like his... and I'm so grateful He knew.

And now my sweet girl is on the cuffs of 4... of FOUR, I tell you! Four years of laughs and fun. Four years of sweet embrace. Four wonderful years. So here's a brief look back... it's all felt as if it's flown by anyway...

It's a special bond that's formed with your ob. Seriously, they become the best of friends. Here is our last picture as a family of three. We were dropping B off with Gaga and Papa on our way to the hospital for A's eviction notice (read: induction). Praise Jesus for an OB who thought the growth ultrasound a day prior seemed "off some" (ahem, almost 2 full pounds), and pulled every. string. she. could. to get the induction 9 days prior to my due date.

These pictures may be never before seen. I'll never forget Aaron posting on facebook that she was here and we were fine but there'd be no pictures. This was why... her poor, sad, bruised head, and that left arm, we thought it'd never be mobile again. It was an easy labor with a scary five minute ending. A weighed in at a whopping 10 lbs 1.1 ounces. (Slightly above the 8 lbs 3 oz they'd claim the day prior) Again, the ob and I, yeah, we are tight.

But all the bruising didn't kill the enthusiasm of a certain Big Bro ;) Look at that cheese!

And a week to heal the bruising and this sweet girl is perfect, and has ginormo feet :)

And here at 1 - there's that personality coming out...

 And at 2-- the year of hair...

And at 3--- little girl, now, more than baby...

 And nearing 4 ---- What a sweet, funny, precious gift she is :)

Fear Not

 "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. "

-Isaiah 41:10

A couple weeks ago I sat curled up with my sweet boy in his bed. We'd read his Bible, talked about the day to come, and prayed together. As I was getting up to leave, he asked me what the weather was expected to be the next day. My heart sunk. 

The weather. 

Who would have thought it'd be a topic of contention? I mean, people talk about the weather all the time. It's the favorite topic of generations of men for as long as we can all remember. In our house, though, it's been a conversation riddled with fear. Deep. Dark. Fear.

It all started many months ago. Near the church we attend a home in an affluent community was struck by lightning. Much of the house burned. We drove by the house many times a week, and it was referred to by both of our kids as 'the house that was burned'. 

Since then, the house has been rebuilt. It stands firm. The people are well. The temporary replaced. It has long left our conversation. Until now. 

Somewhere between August and September our oldest has developed this unhealthy, irrational fear of fire, and somewhere in that ever thinking, overly-analytical mind of his, he's connected the dots. 

With rain comes lightning. With lightning comes fire. With fire comes fear. Lots and lots of fear. 

And there we sat in his bed, his innocent question bidding me to reassure him, begging me to protect him... his little, precious heart wondering, "Do I need to fear tomorrow, mommy?" 

And my heart breaks. He is mine. I was him. From the earliest age I can remember, I worried. Fear laced my days. Irrational fears. Rational fears. Worry. Anxiety. It was paralyzing. It kept me up at night. It keeps me up at night. It is paralyzing. And it hits me  - nothing - not a thing - my parents said or did could fix it. It plagued my heart, it seeped into every empty corner of my mind and consumed me. 

And I wasted empty breath as I explained to my sweet innocent boy, "The Lord is good. He wants what is best for us. It's highly unlikely our house will catch on fire, but God is always good." Knowing that no words could heal his heart or ease his mind. Knowing that when I shut the door behind me after twenty minutes of reassurance that he would listen for raindrops. He'd watch the sky. He'd ask, yet again, about the weather. 

And I prayed, "Lord, don't let him be like me." I begged, "DELIVER him from this! Let his life NOT be spent in fear." And I spouted my grievances, "It doesn't even make sense! There's - like - almost NO chance our house will catch fire! Why can't he believe us? Why can't he trust us?"

And ever quietly God answered...

"Why can't you believe me? Why can't you trust me?"

Because I've been lying awake at night. I've been petitioning my father with questions about the weather in my own life. I've been begging for reassurance. I've been wrestling. 

My fears are different. But are they really? Because with a loving Father who promises that God works together ALL things for good for those who love Him, what shall I fear? WHOM shall I fear? 

Every scripture I'd relayed to my sweet 6 year old came pouring through my own mind, God using my words to reinforce His. The desperation I felt for him to just trust me is the same God feels for me to just trust Him. And, is HE not the one who is trustworthy? Can HE not protect my son and I better than I ever could? Could HE not provide for us better than I? Could HE not deliver us from our fears, our anxieties, our pains, our SIN, not just this time - but forever? Is HE not the one who is able?

30 years. 30 years I've feared and worried. 30 years my own mother has pleaded with me not to worry, and it's come to this; seeing my sweet boy walk my own footsteps to see how my Lord has seen my fears and worries this entire time, pleading me to trust Him... really trust Him. 

And my prayer is that He'd deliver us from the worry. That we would FEAR NOT, because our God is FOR us, WITH us, and LOVES us, and that God's salvation would come quickly in the life of my kids. That a holy boldness would replace the empty fear... that the hearts and minds consumed with fear would be replaced with overflowing springs of praise and adoration for a loving Savior who is faithful to deliver. 

May we not forget His goodness. May we not forget to whom we belong. May we not forget how this all turns out.  

"For it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you."

Deuteronomy 31:6

A Magical Trip of a Lifetime - Day 8

My heart sank that morning.

Really? Another headache?

It sank for all of about 30 seconds, because it only took me about 30 seconds to remember one of the worst headaches I'd had in my own life.

I was in San Francisco with a friend having my first 'adult' vacation. We had spent 6 weeks previously putting on summer camps for teenagers, and we had just come from Glorietta, New Mexico. My first 'adult' vacation was accompanied by an "I'm dying" phone call to my mommy. Worst headache ever. Major tummy upset. Dying.

In anxiousness my mom mentioned my condition to a nurse friend who promptly told her to have the friend staying with me walk the streets of San Fran on her own and get me some Gatorade, and to pray that I wasn't so far dehydrated that I'd need to be hospitalized.

Within hours I was walking those streets with her. Amazing the power of Gatorade. (Any time B has a stomach bug he asks for powerade or gatorade because we push it so heavily to keep him hydrated. I really believe he thinks it's a medicine, and I really believe it has a placebo effect for him!)

Why hadn't I thought of it sooner? Could she really just be dehydrated? Now that I thought of it, it'd been a long time since her last potty break. I grabbed our refillable mugs and headed for the resort restaurant.

An hour later we had a completely different kid.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some major mom guilt. The poor kid had gone about 16 hours with symptoms of dehydration, and of course she didn't know to tell me. Then - to add insult to injury - and to enhance the mom guilt - to know she could have enjoyed the previous night...

I'm still carrying it.

We had toyed with the idea of going back to Magic Kingdom several times. Saturday's plans were supposed to be to relax, enjoy the pool (which we hadn't done yet), and have a special dinner. After feeling shorted on MK time, we'd actually decided we'd spend the $40 or so and go back Saturday. (The more park days you purchase, the cheaper and cheaper they get.)

But rain was, once again, in the forecast.

We still hadn't finished up Downtown Disney.

It was our last day there and Monday was coming, as was routine.

Dinner was at 4:00. (And it was going to take some time to get there.)

And frankly - I was afraid of pushing any more.

So we packed everyone up and traveled by bus to Downtown Disney. Again.

This time, it actually wasn't raining yet, so we were able to score just a few pictures outside with the kids. We bought a few souvenirs and gifts for a few friends. We had an early lunch at Wolfgang Puck Express. It was fantastic. No pictures, but it was by far one of the best quick service meals we had. Ansley couldn't figure out why there were leaves on my pizza (bay leaves), but that didn't stop us :)

And we made one last stop at Goofy's Candy Cauldron to redeem some of the 14 snack credits we had left. Many of the items we bought are in our pantry as we speak. Chewy Sprees. Jelly Beans. Snack mixes. But a few of the things we bought came handmade. This is a horrible picture, but frankly, no picture would do it justice.

On the left? Yeah, that's a rice krispy treat. Let me be more clear. That's a Rice Krispy treat covered in chocolate. And not a little chocolate, a lot of chocolate. Then it's doused in reeses pieces. It was delectable and was shared by all four of us. (We all felt we had PLENTY.)

On the right. That's three, count them, three chocolate covered marshmallows. Simple, but heavenly.

We wrapped it up at Downtown fairly early in the afternoon. Dinner was scheduled for 4:00, and we were supposed to be there for check-in 15 minutes early.

Add to those factors that when the front desk gave us directions to the location they told us to allow a full 1.5 hours to get there. That's one and a half, folks.

The directions went something like this:

- Ride the Magic Kingdom bus to the Magic Kingdom.
- Get off and find the water taxi that goes to Fort Wilderness. It should have a green flag.
- If that particular taxi doesn't seem to be running, wait for a bus to Fort Wilderness. They should run every twenty minutes.
- Once you finally get to Fort Wilderness, wait for an internal bus to take you back to the restaurant. This can take several minutes because there are several stops.

My mouth was literally hanging as she wrote the directions down. It wasn't until we'd got to Downtown Disney that it had occurred to me, "Hey, we have a car here. I wonder if it's shorter to drive."

Turns out it is, and we arrived at the Hoop Dee Doo Review almost 45 minutes early for check in.

Yes. You heard me. The Hoop Dee Doo Review. Believe it or not, that dinner was our 'splurge' dinner of the week and required two dining credits per person. (A side note: the two dining credits - totally worth it. All your food is included, plus it's a show, plus drinks - including some alcoholic selections for those interested. It also includes gratuity. Without the dining plan, the cost for all four of us would have been around $180. Because we were on the dining plan, it was free :) )

Admittedly, this is not a restaurant I would have sought out myself. I take zero credit. A sweet friend who is a previous Disney Cast Member made the suggestion when I reached out to her about things not to miss. She prefaced that, "I went with a bad attitude and thought I'd hate it, then I loved it," and encouraged us to make a go of it if we could swing the cost or found it worthy of two credits on the dining plan.

I'm not a dumb woman. When someone knows a lot more about something than I do, I take their advice. (She also suggested going in the fall for free dining! She's worthy of listening to!)

So I booked it as our last night, one last sit down, enjoyable meal as a family.

Let me first say - Fort Wilderness is that, wilderness. Not like tents wilderness. But RV's wilderness. With horses, and a lake, and a couple of cabins scattered about. And that internal bus she told us about, yeah, it really did make many stops before our stop.

But - while we were waiting our 45 minutes to check in, I got to prove I still have the mad hula hoop skills I've always had. Oh yea.

And it got to rain again.

And I got to take this cute pic of Ans with the new purse she'd bought that day. She's such a girl :)

Sweet.

And finally we were checked in.

Now, I've made it through like 8 blogs with not one complaint, so I'm not going to start now. I'll just offer a word of advice. Hoop Dee Doo Review tickets come in tiers. You can get Tier 1, Tier 2 or Tier 3 seating. I called around 4 months in advance and Tier 3 was all that was remaining. If you have the option, go with Tier 1 or 2. Your view of the stage - and your family, for that matter - is much better. Again, not a complaint, just an observation.  (Another suggestion, if you don't want to be made part of the show - because a lot of people don't - stick with Tier 2 for the best chance of that happening and still having better seats.)

So let's move on to the food. Fantabulous!

When you sit, you've got a big ole loaf of cornbread. And not just any cornbread. SWEET cornbread. There's also salad. Both are great. Soon comes fried chicken, BBQ ribs, corn, BBQ beans, and mashed potatoes. Real southern cookin', at it's finest, and it's all you can eat.

The show is fantastic. It's funny, cute, and somewhat interactive. It kept the attention of my three year old, and the hubs and I laughed at many things that we know went way over the heads of the kids. The kids got to sing at the top of their lungs, swing their napkins in the air, and play a washboard by the time it was all over. Who am I kidding?! I did all of those things, too!

It was all out fun, and with all of the things to do at Disney, I would not have passed this up. It was relaxing and enjoyable. We enjoyed it as a last night activity, but several there were using it as their arrival dinner. Also a great idea!

And the finale? The finale was this yummo Strawberry Shortcake! Props to Momma in the kitchen for whipping this up for the whole restaurant ;)

The turn around time here is unreal. Our reservation opened at 4:00. We were seated very shortly after. It's my understanding the next group comes in at 6:00. We left at 5:55. That's Disney perfection at it's finest.

And so the trip was coming to an end. I don't do the end of vacations well. I never have. It's sad and depressing, and really starts to set in sometime when I hit the midway point.

When we returned back to our hotel, I still hadn't packed, but I wanted the kids to be able to swim. So we donned our swim attire and headed down to the 'heated' pool.

Turns out a heated pool doesn't do you much good if you can't bear to get in it. The kids had a great time, but I shivered in the '70 degrees with a breeze' night air.

They swam until pruny, and we sat at the edge and enjoyed their enjoyment.

That really was the theme of the trip. I've been to Disney before and loved it. I'm really a kid at heart.

I could go back without kids some day and enjoy it, but frankly, I wouldn't want to.

This trip, I saw Disney through a whole new set of eyes. I saw it through the eyes of my children.

I saw their wonder seeing Mickey Mouse the first time. I listened to Ans' hilarious giggle / scream on every fast ride we rode. I saw fireworks light up in their eyes. I heard "zip-a-dee-doo-dah" be sang over and over and over again, unprompted, in the shower, and I saw B break multiple troubling habits he had picked up in the last couple months as he was able to relax with a family who was relaxing and focusing on him.

In sharing stories when we returned, I was told that B would probably remember the trip, but Ans probably wouldn't. And I don't doubt that. I don't doubt that most of the moments of that trip will be forever lost somewhere in Ans' three year old mind.

But.

(There's always a 'but.')

But my six year old Ans who 'may have' remembered wouldn't have reacted like my three year old Ans did. And I will never, ever forget her eyes lighting up when she met Ariel and she pulled out her dinglehopper to show her. I will never forget that shrill of enjoyment that rang from her lungs riding the Barnstormer for the first time. I won't forget her sweet little face when she declared that Space Mountain was her favorite ride, even though she really only rode the People Mover through it. And I won't miss that little sleepy face that graced my bed every night.

Sure. She will have pictures.

But.

But I - yes, I - will have the memories.  And those memories, well, they were worth every penny.

A Magical Trip of a Lifetime - Day 7

Day 7 - Well, day 7 was the day I'd been looking forward to all week. Ans' antibiotic was sought out because of day 7. A short park day was planned on day 6 because of day 7. Day 7 was a biggie. Day 7 was Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party. It was another day in the Magic Kingdom and a special event at that.

Bring on the fun.

To start the day, though. We slept in. Now, it must be noted that 'sleeping in' with a 5 and 3 year old means you top 7:00 a.m. Since it was vacation, and all, I think we may have hit 7:30 a.m. I'm not naive enough to have believed we'd get a super late morning in, so I planned a special 'late' breakfast for us that morning.

In the past few months the kids have become avid fans of the movie Lilo & Stitch.  It just so happens that I ran across a 10:45 a.m. character breakfast with Lilo and Stitch at the Polynesian's Ohana just weeks prior to our trip. I snagged it.

I can't even believe I'm typing this, as I felt for sure I could have named 10 other characters that would have taken the title of the kids' favorites at Disney World, but Lilo and Stitch took the cake, and not just by a little bit, by a landslide. They were so excited.

We arrived to the Polynesian really early so we rode the monorail around twice before finally just showing up at 10:15. They sat us around 10:30. As we were walking in the kids were immediately given maracas and asked to join in a character parade around the restaurant. They loved it.

Now - I'm a foodie, so I have to immediately comment on the food. This was by far one of the best of the trip, and it was breakfast food. It doesn't sound like anything incredible: sausage, eggs, breakfast potatoes, breakfast breads, bacon and fruit... normal breakfast fare.  But the sausage? Awesome! Aaron and I both swear it had an Hawaiian flare. The breakfast potatoes, unlike anywhere else. The breakfast breads were an iced cinnamon raisin bread - outstanding - and a pineapple bread, Yum! The hubs said the pineapple was the best pineapple he'd ever had. (And it wasn't just Disney - we'd had pineapple other places all week... this pineapple was GOOD.)

Here's a little glimpse:

The hot food came in this huge skillet. Like I said... GOOD. And it was all you can eat. (But we only asked for more of that fresh pineapple.) May I also mention - breakfast is served with this incredible juice. I believe our server said it was a combo of mango, pineapple and guava juice. For those of you who know me, the guava juice made this drink a hit in my book!

It took the characters awhile to get back around to our table, but the anticipation was worth it when we saw these faces:

Seriously - ask B who his favorite character was and he probably won't even have to think. Stitch.

The breakfast would have topped the charts for our trip anyway, but what happened next was a memory for the memory books. We were waiting for our last character to come through (Stitch, we were not leaving without that one), when it came time to do the maraca parade again. The kids were given maracas and away they went. When the song was over, the kids finished the parade on the other side of the restaurant. I immediately went into that 'mom concern' mode for Ans who is only three and isn't the most direction savvy kid anyway. I could not see she nor B from our table.

I tried to relax and decided to wait and give them the opportunity to make it back. Within just a few seconds I saw Ans' skipping towards us. Crisis averted. But then a minute went by... and another minute. And I was starting to work into a mini-panic over the competent, direction savvy offspring that I have. The hubs was just raising up out of his chair to go looking when B started running around the corner. It'd easily been 3 minutes or so since the song ended.

Of course, he sits down and we immediately start grilling him, "Where were you," "What took so long," and lecturing him, "We were worried, you always come right back," when we were interrupted by one of the servers, "Sorry it took him so long to get back! He offered to collect the maracas from the kids for me. He was a great helper, was very patient, and offered to do it himself!" In just moments a few more servers came by doting on him.

We apologized and praised him for doing something nice without being asked.

Just minutes later, this happened:

In recognition for his act of kindness, he was given a signed Maraca (by all four characters) and a cupcake for he and his sister. (And yes, it was a pineapple cupcake.) His day - and ours - was made. So great to hear positive things about your kiddos, and we explained to him that you don't always get something when you do the right thing or help someone, but we agreed that his maraca was pretty cool.

From there - we made a short trip to Downtown Disney. B had been saving a gift card he had for the Lego Store from the beginning of the trip, and we wanted him to have the opportunity to spend it. Granted, this was a short trip because it immediately started pouring on us again. We did accomplish the lego store and a couple Christmas tree decorations, but we decided that we'd be heading back a different day because we didn't accomplish much else.

Then - back to the hotel to get ready for our big night.

Now. Here's where it all gets interesting, as if the trip hadn't been interesting previously. I'm going to clue you all in now, being that it took me a long time -- too long -- to get clued in, feel privileged. Mom of the year, right here.

Little did I realize at this point that we had gone, gone, gone much of the day. We ate a later breakfast and had reservations to eat an earlier dinner (5:00), so we skipped lunch. Ans hadn't been asking to go to the bathroom at all the inopportune times, like normal, but I didn't really notice. Plus, we were in the hotel room for an hour or so in the afternoon, and I didn't really pay attention to bathroom habits then.

I got us all ready - and off to the Magic Kingdom we went with Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween tickets in hand.

We got into the park just fine, with just some mild sprinkling (though - not mild for my hair and Ans', which I'd dolled up prior to leaving the hotel), and two happy kids. Here is B riding the ferry to the MK in his pirate costume:

And us stopping for a photopass photographer, all dolled up in costumes for the evening:

Look at those smiles. This was going to be a good night.

I had also scored (and by scored I do mean 'scored', this one was not easy to come by) a 5:05 reservation to the Magic Kingdom's hottest new restaurant, Be Our Guest. Located in Fantasyland, at night it's a sit - down experience in the Beast's Castle.

As was the theme for our trip - we got in a few minutes early, but not after getting a couple good shots outside:

Before long, they called our name and we were heading in.

The restaurant is gorgeous. The ballroom, well, it really looks like the ballroom in the movie. We were lucky enough to dine there. It's snowing out the back windows. It's beautiful.

The ambiance was perfect for a sweet family dinner, and check out that rose, it's my napkin.

They encourage you to go visit the other rooms in the castle, two other rooms in which one can dine. After taking our drink order - I gave Ans a special treat and ordered her a Sprite - I immediately asked Ansley if she'd like to go look around with me. She declined, and in recent minutes had started being pretty whiny. I declared she needed to change her attitude and I asked B if he'd like to go. He did, so off we went.

So the rose, from the movie? Yeah, it's pretty incredible. In the same room, the Beast's picture transforms at the thunder sound.

The other room's centerpiece was this beautiful 'music box' made by Belle's dad for the two's wedding gift. You can see it just over B's head.

Upon returning to our table, Aaron had convinced Ans to visit the other rooms with him. This would be the last we'd really see of her for the night.

When she returned to the table bread had been delivered, as well as her Sprite. She declared that she didn't want her Sprite and she wasn't hungry for bread, nor did she want any other food, including a cupcake I tried to bribe her with. For the first time since Wednesday, her eyes looked sick, and for the first time in her life, she complained of a headache.

I know, I know. I should have known immediately. I've been dehydrated twice before in my life, and my number one symptom was one of the most horrible headaches I'd ever had. BUT - having had migraine headaches my entire life - I've spent most of my 'mom' life praying over my babies that God would deliver them from this highly probably genetic thorn in their side. Dr's agreed that if either showed symptoms, it'd probably be Ans (female) and mine started when I was about her age, so when she said headache, my first fear was "migraine".

And of course, she'd not needed tylenol for a few days at this point, so I had none.

When she mentioned a headache the second time, I offered for her to lay her head in my lap. She immediately laid down and was asleep within moments.

I proceeded to eat my strip steak, french fries and green beans (I'm a foodie, remember, I couldn't continue through the dinner story and not tell you of the awesome food. Aaron had shrimp and scallops and was happy as a clam. Hardy har har.), plus my dessert - the grey stuff (and BOY was it delicious, no need to ask the dishes) with a sleeping child in my lap.

Mind you, at this point the Beast - one character Ans had been intrigued to meet - had come through our dining room not once, but twice. At the time of our leaving, he was available to meet and have pictures with. Ans wouldn't wake up to meet the master of the castle, so I took B while daddy carried her to the stroller.

They insisted I get in the picture as "the Beast had never met Snow before". The cast does a great job at staying in character, but when you are 'in character' they do a great job keeping you in character as well. I can't tell you how many times I was referred to as "Snow" that night, many of which took me several moments to realize they were talking to me or about me.

Anyway. B and I made our meeting and exited to find Ans asleep in the stroller. Golden. Good start to our evening.

We then proceeded to take the next five minutes to replan our evening. What was this headache she was experiencing? Was it her ears flaring back up? Exhaustion? She hadn't napped all week... seems probable. That must be it, she must be exhausted. We were going to search out Tylenol, let her sleep for an hour or so and she'd be rejuvenated and ready to tackle the night... and it was all going to work out, it was supposed to be a long night anyway... so we thought.

So, Aaron had taken B on Space Mountain previously in the week and B had asked several times since to ride it with me. For that reason, Aaron headed to First Aid (they are fantastic by the way) to get Ansley some tylenol, and I headed with B to Space Mountain being that Lines (an awesome app worth every penny, and far surpassed even the My Disney Experience App on wait times) showed a ten minute wait time.

So - the camera for space mountain is immediately upon entering the ride. I was still waiting for the ride to 'start' when we jerked. I was trying to fix my event bracelet, and the look on my face shows my surprise at the ride starting. Classic.

When the ride was over (and the line really was ten minutes) we walked out to see Aaron and Ans. She was sitting up in the stroller, but looking pretty miserable. I quipped that she'd need a half hour or so for the meds to take effect, and we decided to walk over to the Monster's Inc Laugh Factory to sit in the AC in a show to give her some time to recover.

So you know how I mentioned previously that our kids - B especially - kept getting chosen out of audiences over and over? Get ready.

For those of you who haven't sat in Monster's Inc Laugh Factory, let me give you the general rundown. The idea is that since figuring out that laughs create more energy than screams, Mike hosts a 'laugh factory' comedy show to collect laughs and thus provide energy for Monstropolis. As you walk into the attraction you sit in a 'stadium' or theater style seating. I'm bad at guessing, but this is probably another attraction that holds around 150-200 people. Again, I'm a bad guesser, but that's what I have to offer.

We were about 3/4 full that night.

Animated characters then appear on the main screen and interact with different people in the audience. Those people from the audience are shown on another large screen. We'd made it almost through the show when Mike's nephew came on to tell jokes and to meet a kid (it'd been mostly adults being chosen... maybe 3 or 4 of them, up until this point.)

Let me tell you our current situation at this time. B had walked in first in our group and was on the other side of Aaron. I was sitting next to Aaron and Ans was on the other side of me, once again, laying with her head in my lap. By the time I figured out that the spotlight that had entered our part of the theater was on B, he was already answering the animated character and telling him his name.

As much as I was trying to enjoy the moment and soak it all in, I kept thinking, "he was chosen AGAIN! How does that happen?"

The animated character proceeded to ask him, "Hey Bryton - you want to hear a joke?" B, sometimes shy, but tonight 'on' in all respects, answered, "Yeah!"

At this point, I became extremely nervous. My children's definitely of a joke is this:
"Knock knock. Who's there? Banana. Banana who? Banana sitting in a bathtub eating an ice cream cone." To which the both laugh hysterically. And this is not exaggeration. This IS their favorite 'joke'.

I was nervous to say the least.

The animated character continued, "Why was 6 afraid of 7?"

Before I could lean forward to look over at B he answered and shocked us, "Because 7 ate (8) 9!"

My mouth hit the floor. I'd sure never taught him that joke. Nor was he the type of 'joke' kid to think it up. Especially not that fast. Even the animated character was caught a bit off guard.

Their conversation continued, with literally the only other thing I caught being the character asking him what he'd like to be when he grew up, to which he replied, "A pilot," and the character commenting that he had high expectations. All I could think of was 'how did he know the answer to that joke," and "I sure wish I could get Ans off my camera to get a picture of him on the screen." (Which I never got.)

When it was all over both Aaron and I immediately asked B, "how did you know the answer to that joke?!" To which he replied, "I learned it in school last week from my teacher!"

We love school in this house, and I thoroughly enjoyed sending that email to his teacher when we got home.

Classic.

Ans hadn't perked up much at this point, and I could feel my hopes for the night diminishing. We decided since we were right there we'd ride the People Mover and give Ans some more time before hitting the park hard. She loved the ride, as it goes through Space Mountain, a ride she'd wanted to ride all week but isn't tall enough for, so she felt she had actually rode Space Mountain. Ask her favorite ride and she'll probably answer "Space Mountain". What she means is the People Mover, because she thought it was in fact Space Mountain.

B and daddy rode the teacups after that, and then we proceeded to the Winnie the Pooh ride. By the time we'd ridden in the honey jar, Ans looked done, so back in the stroller she went.

From there, we decided she'd stay in there and we'd take turns riding with B. The night was fading before my eyes.

When we hit our first candy line (oh yes, they do trick or treating, and they do it well! In the few hours we were there, we probably left with ten pounds of candy. I kid you not.) I thought she'd for sure perk up. We made her get out of the stroller to get the candy, but she crawled back in and declined the offer to try a piece. Now I knew we had a problem.

The conversation then ensued, "do we stay or do we go? No, you stay with him, we'll take Disney transportation back. No, you stay. We don't want him to miss out. It's only $40 to come back tomorrow, maybe we should just come back tomorrow. But we won't have this experience tomorrow..."

It was confusing and frustrating.

By this point we'd made it over near the Haunted Mansion, and the decision was made to hit the candy stops we found on the way out, the rides that pertained to B, but to head out and be done for the night. I was so disappointed, and also really concerned for Ans.

We accomplished more than I expected on the way out. Ans slept in the stroller through everything from this point. B and I rode Pirates. Aaron and B rode Aladdin's carpets. We hit three or four more candy stops. I and B had a Dole Whip from Aloha Aisle (which I would have paid the $40 to come back for the next day, had I missed it), and we just happened to hit the Castle light show and fireworks on Main Street. How's that for perfect timing? Ans slept through every bit of it. (And the fireworks were not quiet.)

We bought the kids both balloons on the way out, being that they had asked for them since Tuesday. (Who would have known they'd stay inflated forever?  The good news is we were able to gift them to other kids in our resort lobby before we left to come home.) After that we loaded the car and headed back.

We are - once again - horrible parents, and having thought that Ans was just exhausted, we assumed she should be more than rested after basically sleeping away five hours of our evening, and we made her walk back to our room. We joked that she'd probably caught her second wind and would be up all night.

I dosed her with ibuprofen when we got in 'just to make sure', and laid us all to bed. Much to my surprise, she passed right back out. I laid my hands on her and prayed over her that night, that God would heal her body and make her feel better.

Much to my absolute surprise, the first words out of her mouth on Saturday morning was, "My head still hurts."