WHOSE Kids are Those?!

So my kids came bursting into my bedroom this morning at 7:30 a.m. where I was re-resting (since I'd been up much earlier) with Cienna, who had had an unusually restless and rough night (I think because we'd gone to the zoo yesterday and she was having nightmares and leftover anxiety about being so close to a real bear, etc.), and they happily shared with me their encounter with their favorite teacher as she was driving by our house this morning.

Kids: “We saw Mrs. Opitz when she was driving to school this morning!”

Me (yawning): “Oh, that’s nice.”

Kids: “She stopped and said hi to us.”

Me (raising my eyebrows a bit): “Oh, she’s so nice…were you guys outside?”

Kids (with great excitement): “Yes. We were down the street (a couple of houses away) waving to Dad at the corner as he went to work.”

Me: Speechless…because it was then that I put everything together (keeping in mind that I’m well-aware of and wanting to improve the “home-school family” stigma): Kids running down the street at 7:30 a.m (with no shoes, I'm sure, but I didn't ask)….favorite teacher of whom I have great respect…and yes, 2 out of 4 kids still in PJs, including young Allison wearing her bright pink nightgown (apparently hearing the commotion at the front door from her bed and not wanting to miss the spontaneously dramatic send-off for Dad, thus jumping up from her pillow and heading straight outside, bed-head and all).

I suddenly had that sinking feeling that most parents hope to avoid, but that we all know is inevitable and quite humbling and increases in frequency throughout the teenage years (I’ve heard). I know my children’s sincere intentions and try to be quite forgiving of their natural, impulsive decision-making (and of course I promptly and gently reminded them about getting dressed before playing outside…unless there's an emergency...like a good-bye to Dad), but I never feel good about contributing to the discomfort of the average person passing by who may make a quick judgment and spend the rest of the day feeling critical and a bit hardened.

But then I remembered: Mrs. Opitz isn’t an average passer-by.

She’s a favorite teacher not only because she’s good at teaching music, but because she understands the hearts of children and appreciates them for their innocence and zest for life. She looks past weaknesses and awkwardness and just makes people feel safe and loved for who they are. (Diggy made a card for her once and said, “I hope she likes it…(deep-in-thought pause)…I know she’ll like it because nice people like everything.”) She connects with kids (and adults) in a way that inspires them to be better people. She’s the type of teacher that kids remember for years to come…

And for me, she is also a dear friend. When I exchanged thoughts with her later today, she said she sincerely enjoyed witnessing the tender good-bye…and the PJs had made it all the more precious.

I think the world would be a different and happier place if there were more people who noticed and cherished life the way Mrs. Opitz does. We would all breath more sighs of relief (I sure did today!)…and at the same time feel more determined to walk a little taller.

Sorry, no pictures this time…thankfully.

12 Years, 24 Roses, and 890 Cinnamon Rolls

Brent and I celebrated our 12th Anniversary this past weekend.  

Brent is an incredible husband who has service at the front of his mind…it is part of who he is…it is what attracted me to him years ago…and it is what has made our marriage stronger with every passing year.

Brent is also the Scoutmaster for the teenage boys at church. And after being married for 12 years, nearly all of which he has served the teenage boys at church…in five different states, I’ve become accustomed to the time commitment it takes. Sacrificing 1-2 nights a week, vacation time for summer scout camp, extra meetings on Sundays, regular campouts, etc, etc.

I thought I’d  become mentally tough in supporting him in these worthy causes, especially after a high adventure trip many years ago turned into a group helicopter rescue while I was home pacing the floor with two young boys wondering why Daddy was so late returning home. (Don’t worry…Brent was fine…he just had to assist a couple of boys who had developed hypothermia after narrowly escaping a whirlpool in the Pacific Ocean.)

Well, a couple of weeks ago we started discussing the possibility of helping his scouts raise summer camp money by baking cinnamon rolls for Mother’s Day. Boys and Moms would have an adventure making them together at our house the day before Mother’s Day—except the day before Mother’s Day was OUR anniversary.   My heart did a flip-flop and I must admit the “What about me and MY needs while I’m 7 months pregnant and hoping to milk the weekend for all it’s worth because it’s my anniversary AND Mother’s Day?!!” thoughts circulated for at least a day and a half.

But then I thought again…what better way to celebrate our mostly blissful years than to do a service project together? I’m a big fan of symbolism. And…what a creative husband I have…we don’t have to plan something extravagant and risk high hopes that it will fulfill great celebratory measurements in comparison to past anniversaries or to the Jones’ fancy outings. 

So cinnamon rolls it was.

It was an honor (and extremely exhausting) to serve and support Brent in his charitable endeavors—something that truly makes him happy—on our special day. I’m usually the recipient of Brent’s service. It was nice, and very fulfilling, to catch up a little.

Except sales were so successful (89 orders with very little marketing efforts) that a friend volunteered to help with 1/2 the orders. So, my title is deceiving…we really only had to do 9 batches of dough to make 45 pans with 10 rolls per pan, which = 450 cinnamon rolls, plus the other 450-ish rolls, which = more $$ than they were hoping for originally, lots of happy mothers (and fathers who don’t have to worry about burnt toast), and no more fund raisers for another year. Yippee!

We had lots of help from the kids, too!

And because Brent is extra in tune to my emotional state, he brought home 24 roses the day before the big event—12 for our anniversary and 12 for Mother’s Day. I’m not normally much of a flower lover (I like practical gifts like new rags or my annual pair of cheap flip flops), but this time flowers made the tears come…

The girls thought the flowers were very romantic.

And guess what we had for breakfast on Mother’s Day??

Easter Excitement

So much to catch up on and so much to share...
and so little time (and energy) to devote to the blogging world.

But here's my favorite (and only) family picture on Easter:

As we rushed to find car keys right before church, they were finally discovered in the ignition--the windows had been safely rolled up the night before...(which has great meaning because the van's interior was still recovering from an unpleasant stench left by an all-night rainstorm pounding through the open sunroof a week earlier)...and the battery was fully dead in the morning.


But with a husband who handles stress with a sense of adventure, all five kids piled out of the van in their Easter garb and learned how to jump-start a car.


The excitement in the air reminded me that Easter is a good time to take a family photo.

It’s A…???

The BIG debate in the Smith house for the last several weeks has been: Will the Boys even the score? Or will we be closer to officially being able to act out the Von Trapp Family (they have 2 boys and 5 girls for all who aren’t Sound of Music savvy)? Everyone agreed we’d be happy with either.

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And the answer is (drum roll please): It’s a GIRL!!

I must admit, I’ve been stumped…again. I thought Cienna was a boy, and assumed even more (though just a guess) that this one was a boy. (Apparently pregnancy experience doesn’t improve chances of guessing right.) 

But alas, another sweet angel girl will join our clan of 3 VERY excited older sisters (and it will be nice to have an even number there…they already spend significant time bonding in the bathroom together; now they can more easily use the buddy system). And she will undoubtedly adore her 2 proud older brothers, who admitted they were slightly hoping for a younger brother to wrestle with and have follow in their footsteps (not to mention to get added support for the natural competitive sibling rivalry).  But I noticed both boys walking a little taller when we discussed their increased importance. They will have 4 younger sisters to watch over and protect. Not very many people in the world can say that (strategically boosting their 8 and 9-year-old competitive spirits…wink,wink).  

When I think of having another girl, I remember finding out that Diggy was a boy (and I confess to feeling slightly disappointed at the time) and wondering if I would ever have a girl (especially as an only girl with 3 brothers). Now I have 4, and I’m even more grateful my two boys have each other. They are truly best friends and great older brothers.

I imagine how much more experienced I’ll become at managing phrases like, “Stop, Mom! You’re pulling on my hair too much!” or “That doesn’t look right on me,” or “She’s wearing my skirt” five minutes before it’s time to jump in the car before church. And I truly hope my mother will still be up to LOTS of formal-dress sewing/altering in about 10-18 years.

But when I really stop to ponder the thought of another one of God’s precious daughters coming into my care, I am humbled at His trust in me. I’m grateful for the chance to intimately influence another future wife and mother. I know she’ll be watching my every move.  Her anticipated arrival motivates me (all over again) to improve myself in prep for her delicate personality and impressionable brain.

And Brent’s thoughts: 4 princesses, 4 teenage girls, 4 brides. What could be more exciting and expensive and dramatic and tender and lovely than that? (And maybe we need another bathroom…and we will definitely need a bigger van…but that’s a touchy subject.)

Our next BIG question = What will her name be? The highest vote so far goes to Mary Chris…so we can say Mary Chris Smith all year round. Luckily, we still have a few months to discuss that one…but whatever her name, it’ll feel like Christmas around the 4th of July! :)

Daddy-Daughter Dream Dance

Since Valentine’s Day last year, the girls have been planning and anticipating the Daddy-Daughter Princes Ball 2011 (a local high school fundraiser, which has become a HUGE memory maker for our budding queens…this was Kirsten’s 4th annual dance. Allison has gone twice now, and Cienna almost went for the first time).

The girls have been staring at the their new red Valentine’s Day dresses, with matching doll dresses, since Christmas (special thanks to Grandma and Grandpa) and trying not to wear them except to practice proper dance moves occasionally.

They counted down days, planned hairstyles, picked out fingernail polish, made corsages, and whispered excitedly to each other (especially during the final week of waiting) in prep for the big night. 

And last weekend…the BIG date finally arrived.

When Brent came to the front door in his handsome suit to call on his dates, he had six young ladies to court (including Baby Betsy, Sarah (Allison’s doll), and Kirsten (Kirsti’s AG doll, whom she sometimes calls Brigette after her new aunt who also has a Kirsten doll)).  Kirsten adores the whole routine…from Dad “sneaking out” to come ring the doorbell, to the corsages, to seeing all of the other girls dressed up, to dancing with Dad, to the treats they serve, to just feeling like a princess in her Daddy’s arms.

Hearing Allison’s sweet little voice discuss the Daddy-Daughter dance for the last few weeks has been priceless. As a second-year veteran, she embraced all of the evening’s events, loving her Daddy’s special attention, devouring the treats, and courageously joining the princess mosh pit like a pro.

Cienna faithfully followed in her sisters’ footsteps in preparing for her first big princess ball. Anytime the dance was discussed or practiced, she happily joined the festivities and kept saying, “I’m going to the princess dance, too!” She loved getting dressed up to match her sisters.

But…then it was a little weird to have Dad ringing the doorbell, and no one told her that wearing a flower on her wrist was part of the routine…and the 2-year-old tears came. And as wise parents, we foresaw that 1000 other dancing dads and daughters  wouldn’t improve the uneasiness (which is why the wise organizers have an age recommendation of 3-11…she’ll go next year).

So, Cienna felt completely included after a few pictures and a special dance with Dad at home…just for her. Then she happily chose to stay home for movie night with Mom and the boys and eat popcorn.

Three beautiful daughters and a husband who treats them like the princesses they are…I, too, feel like a very lucky lady! 

Modern-day Farm

When Diggy’s teacher at church asked the class yesterday if anyone had done something fun during the last week, Diggy said, “I smashed my hammer through the wall in my parents’ bathroom.”

This is actually Kenny…with Brent in the background. 

When we picked our house a few years back, we looked for one that needed a bit of work…because Brent enjoys tearing holes in walls and he’s quite talented at patiently inspiring the kids to work alongside him. The Perfect Modern-day Farm.

The kids were ages 6 down to 6 weeks at the time (minus Cienna). Their attention spans were quite short and needy and the projects were quite long and tedious. I remember wiping away the gritty grout residue on our new entryway tile until midnight one night, grumbling about the whole modern-day farm idea…knowing the kids would be up around 6 a.m. with lots of energy and the work not yet done.

So, after necessary roofing, flooring, painting, and some kitchen work, it’s been awhile since we’ve embarked on a major project. We’re perfectly happy with our old bathrooms…I thought.

But on Friday night, Brent started talking about the specifics of our master bath. He wants to do a major re-hall. I’d been hesitant, but finally agreed to his plans. I thought we were still months away from starting, but then again, have I ever shared how quick of a mover Brent is? Engaged after dating two months?? (Best decision I ever made!) Well, hammers went flying Saturday at noon…and THIS time, the Modern-day Farm is working at full capacity.

Brent had all 5 kids at his side for several hours on Saturday while I was out to lunch with a friend . They were all very excited to show-off their hard work when I returned…partially because I didn’t know they were going to start yet.  

Kirsten, now the age of Kenny when we’d moved here, enjoyed several hours of getting down and dusty (both on Saturday and Monday)…hammering down walls and prying up floors.

Allison chopped away like a cute three-year-old would, making up stories as she went and enjoying the mess. Apparently she was making a bird’s nest in the “sand.” After getting in PJS, she bid a sweet farewell to the little tiles she’d enjoyed all day…knowing they were getting replaced…Good-byes can be hard. 

Cienna primarily enjoyed the masks…which came in handy because her other favorite part was trying to sneak “rocks” into her mouth. Cement chips and dirt inside the house…it was a dream come true!

   But the BIG farm story comes from our two strapping boys who never tired of  hammering, chipping away tile, and hauling debris out to the garage all day Saturday, saying things like, “We’ve really used this Saturday well” and not even wincing when their hands received the scrapes and blisters from hardy work.

And after a day of rest, they voluntarily (and with great excitement and anticipation…and we didn’t bribe them or offer any form of reward or payment) went to bed early so they could join Brent at the break of dawn (on MLK Jr. holiday)…at 5:30 a.m…the approximate time that I believe they would’ve milked cows back in the day…and they proudly worked for more than 12 hours…SUCCESS!! 

(I keep saying “they” because as a pregnant mother of young children who still fall in the short-attention span range, there’s not much I can do to help…so the girls and I had another pink-nightgown sleepover in the girls’ room in order to preserve our beauty sleep amidst all the noisy hammering…another success. ;)

I’ll try to remember to post pictures of the finished project…in a few months…because tomorrow we all have to go back to our day-jobs.

Thank You Aunt Pam (and Associates)!!

We had in interesting drive home from AZ last week…

THURSDAY, DEC. 30:

9:00 a.m. ~ The kids vote to take the drive to IL straight through (without stopping at hotels) so we can stay as long as possible at Nana and Papa’s. We decide to leave late afternoon instead of now to arrive home by Friday late evening.

2:30 p.m. ~ The UPS truck stops at Nana’s house. The package sits in the foyer unopened…it was probably another gift for Rex and Emily (the newlyweds).

3:00 p.m ~ Weather.com shows a storm finishing it’s way through the Northern AZ mountains. We hear rumors that some roads are closed, but efforts to receive confirmations or info on re-openings failed.

3:30 p.m ~ My fearless husband decides to see for himself if roads are closed…hoping that because the storm had mostly passed, the roads would be open by the time we reach them before dark. We jump in the van.

3:32 p.m. ~ Nana rushes out to the van after realizing the newly arrived package had come from Aunt Pam…the maker of the Matching Family Nightgowns that EVERY girl in her extended family covets. Pam had called on Christmas Day (I think) to get the Smith girls’ measurements and not only worked endless holiday hours, but also overnighted (I assume) the finished projects to us, hoping they would arrive before we left…and they did!

4:30 p.m. ~ Driving through the first mountainous ranges in Northern AZ, the sun is shining and the roads are clear (but noticeably empty).

5:00 p.m. ~ We make it easily to Payson, AZ…where the road closures had been reported.

5:05 p.m. ~ The road heading out of Payson is closed. We wait in a long line of cars…until we hear that police are only allowing  cars with chains or 4WD through..possibly for another day or two. Our trusty van has neither.

5:25 p.m. ~ We turn around. We make a few comments about how AZ could use a more timely snow plowing system because the skies are clear, but the roads in this town are a mess…causing unnecessary delays.

5:27 p.m. ~ Going about 30 mph, we hit a patch of black ice, we swerve to the left and to the right, Brent says, “Hold On” and our swerving turns into a full 360. The unplowed slush in the middle of the 4-lane road stops us. Thankfully no other cars were near at the moment. We all breathe a sigh of relief…and I think a prayer of gratitude that AZ is not as snow-plow savvy as IL (the black ice would’ve been there without the heavy slush in the middle) and that wise police officers don’t let vehicles like ours commence traveling on dangerous roads.

5:30 p.m. ~ Allison says, “That circle gave me a headache!” But, the kids are excited that their hope of staying longer at Nana and Papa’s will come true after all…or maybe not.

5:40 p.m. ~ We discover why the roads coming in to Payson looked so empty…the road going back south is closed as well.

6:00 p.m. ~ We check into a hotel…all wishing we were still at Nana’s.

6:15 p.m. ~ The girls all quickly slip into their new cotton-candy-pink nightgowns…and the Princess Party begins (the boys watched football or something)!

10:00 p.m. ~ Kirsti says, “Mom, you’re the queen and we’re the three princesses,” as me and my three girls snuggle up close and turn out the lights. I lay in bed wondering if Aunt Pam (and her elf helpers…you know who you are) had any idea how useful their handiwork would be for us on the very first night. Their extreme effort and thoughtfulness turned our extreme situation into a memorable miracle. We can’t thank you enough for your generosity and timeliness!!

FRIDAY, DEC. 31

10:00 a.m. ~ Brent takes the van for an alignment check (after our swirling adventure) and returns to the hotel with chains for our tires.

11:00 a.m. ~ Brent drives a homeless couple to the grocery store and buys them food for a few days.  

12:00 p.m. ~ The drive home continues. I admire the smile on Brent’s face as he puts the chains on our tires. He truly loves adventure…and the unknown.

 

2:00 p.m. ~ The roads through the mountains of AZ are horrible…very unplowed and unsafe for the average vehicle.  But with chains, we make it through without a single slip. My brother calls and thinks we have taken a detour to Disneyland because the chains sound like multiple ascending roller coasters. I tell him the chains’ vibrations make us feel like we’re on a roller coaster.

This is Allison a few minutes before my brother called…she agreed with the roller coaster theory and enjoyed the ride…notice the anti-carsickness bands on her wrists…Thanks GG!!

3:00 p.m. ~ Once we hit New Mexico, the roads were clear and we didn’t see a single drop of rain or snow the rest of the trip. We think it’s ironic that our worst driving weather in both directions was only in AZ. Something my parents  (in the good ol’ Midwest) will be reminding us for years to come, I’m sure.

SATURDAY, JAN. 1

12:00 a.m. ~ We count down to midnight with those who are awake in the car. But in reality, we had technically missed a true countdown because we happened to cross time zones at 11:30 p.m., thus changing our clocks to 12:30 a.m. in a time zone that had already welcomed the New Year.  Thanks for the memories Oklahoma!

3:00 p.m. ~ Home Sweet Home!