Remembering 9/11 - Repost - 8 Years

Eight years today. And I still remember it as if it were yesterday. If anything, this year has taught me more than ever, that life is short and things can change in a minute. Nothing stays the same. Love the people that matter in your life today. It's all we really have. Remember the people who lost their lives and the families who lost their loved ones. The heroes who died helping others.

I wrote this post two years ago on 9/11. It is a day that I will never forget. What I wrote then, remains the same now, so I bumped the post to remind myself of what this day elicits in me emotionally. Mostly I keep the people who lost loved ones in my prayers and pray for the country as a whole, that it may be a safe place to bring up my children.

9/11. That date will never leave my mind or heart. The date when I realised that the world did not feel safe anymore, especially here in the USA. Suddenly, my protective instincts as a mother became clear - what kind of world was I bringing my children into?

I had returned from Ireland the Friday before with Micaela who was three and a half and about four months pregnant with Brian. That was the first blessing. That I got to return safe and sound from the land of my birth to my adopted one.

That day will never leave me, as I am sure it will never leave anyone who experienced it, either from this country or another. Patrick and myself had taken Micaela for a bagel and I had headed for the gym. Another beautiful September morning. Blue skies and anticipation for a new beginning - Micaela in pre-school and another life on it's way to us.

I was at the gym, around 9 o'clock - when people suddenly started gathering in groups and watching the news. I glanced up to see an aeroplane hurtling into a building - one that looked very much like the Twin Towers in New York. I really thought it was all about a new movie, some amazing stunt that they had managed to make look like the real thing.

The absolute silence is what I remember next. A total hush came over the gym and someone turned the music off and the TV's up. Everything suddenly seemed to be in slow motion. Everything stopped, as we watched in horror as the reality unfolded in front of us. This was real. This was not a movie. This was right here at home. Happening in front of us. Then, the Pentagon was hit. The Pentagon. Not thirty miles from here. Patrick used to be there all the time. I knew that we had met for breakfast only half an hour before, so I thanked God that I knew he must be safe.

It felt like a bad dream. Gathering Micaela and heading home, calling Patrick. The eerie hush on the roads - it was indescribable. I finally understood the meaning of being in shock. People everywhere were simply stunned and shocked.

This was our world that was being attacked. This, the place where my children were born. Somehow, you tend to think you're infallible. I think Americans certainly believed they were.

Getting home and the relief that Patrick was already there. Calling family and friends and reassuring them that we were fine. Trying to keep normal for Micaela. Trying not to watch the television. It was really hard not to, but I had to be a mother first.

Ironically, we had an appointment for me to have an amniocentisis later that day. I knew that whatever the results of any test, this baby was ours forever. However, the doctors had recommended that I have it done anyway. The dates were imperative. I could not cancel the appointment.

So, with heavy hearts and feeling numb, we went to the appointment. Sat in a normally busy obstetrician's office that was eerily quiet and empty. Went through the motions of having the test. Then, the miracle amidst the shock and fear we felt. Seeing that tiny baby moving around, perfect in every sense of the word. A beautiful new life to celebrate, despite the loss for many people that day. The loss of American innocence. The miracle of a new life. Juxtaposed. Despite everything, we rejoiced. We also found out that we were having a boy. A son. In the midst of everything around us, God had sent us a sign. Life would go on.

It was a bittersweet day. I was having a healthy baby and I had a healthy beautiful little girl. I had a husband who loved me. I had my family and they were safe. The world did not feel that way though.

I look back on that day, with a heaviness in my heart. At the same time I feel gratitude for my life and my family. For their protection that awful day. My heart still goes out to those who lost lives needlessly and it prompts me to take nothing for granted, especially my freedoms.

Every night now, when I pray with the children, I pray for the leaders of this world. That they may become enlightened. That they may work toward peace and love in the world, instead of trying so hard to be the most powerful. That somehow, some way in my children's lives - the opportunity to see people reaching out to each other will be realised. It sounds idealistic and I know it may be. But, without idealists, the world would never have made it this far.

So, I remember 9/11 with a solemn gratitude and a hopeful heart. That somewhere, somehow out of a very needless tragedy, lessons will be learnt and hope will come to the young citizens of this country and of the world.

Grieving

I have so many posts waiting to be published, sitting in corners of my blog, waiting. I haven't been able to write much since that last post. Something about writing it, and putting the truth out there was both cathartic and scary for me. Scary, because, I know I'm really coming to terms with the fact that my life as I know it/knew it has changed and there is no going back.

Today, I started to pack up our house. Alone and quiet, no children underfoot, the experience was surreal. This, our first real home, now going to be part of someone else's beginning. An ending and a beginning for us, our newly defined little family. The end of one dream, yet an opportunity for another one to be built and seen to fruition.

The two opposing emotions of faith and fear swirling me around from one end of the spectrum to the other the past few months. One cannot co-exist with the other. So they've been taking turns inside my heart. It's exhausting. It's exciting. It's painful. It's really, really scary. Mostly, it's the unknown. The unknown and I are not exactly the best of friends. We never have been. I've never been the one to take a risk without a huge amount of pessimism getting in the way of my vision. I don't even like adventure too much. I like to know what's coming. And come to think about it, who doesn't?

Today I did some grieving. Grieving over the little pieces of art that I found, made by my very young children. Pictures of their chubby baby selves staring at me from baby books. Grieving over how little they were and how not so long ago that was. They are still little, but they seem so independent, compared to those days when their every need was met by me.

I grieved the little symbols of my married life which were scattered in every corner of my house. Wedding photos, letters, cards, things we bought together. I grieved the good times we've had and I grieved the terrible times.

I grieved the life that I'd built around family and the fact that it is not going to be what I once wished for it. I grieved the faith and optimism of a younger me, the hope and faith that I had in my marriage. I grieved what might have been, and hoped for what might now become a possibility. I grieved the girl in me, and embraced the woman I've become. I embraced my new found strength. I cried at the challenges ahead, and embraced them, all at once.

I have needed to cry for quite some time and this experience today unleashed the waterfall of emotions that have been sitting on my heart. I had no idea how much I had been holding on, until I let go a little. I could cry without fear of my children hearing me, without fear of having to protect them from my own vulnerability. I cried for all the things I will never have and cried for the ones I might. I cried for my children and their losses and I cried for myself and mine.

I stopped being a mother for just a couple of hours and let myself be a person who was mourning. My guard didn't have to be up, I didn't have to be anything for anyone. I allowed myself to feel what needed to be felt and let go what needed to be let go. For the first time in a long time, I understood what it really means to move on. How impossible that is to do, without the grieving process that precedes it.

A quiet peace has settled on me now. The boxes that surround me are not causing me pain any more. They are giving me hope. Hope, as we move onto the next part of the journey. Strength, in that I know that everything that I will take with me has some significance and meaning to me. The things that get left behind, are no longer needed. That alone, has lightened my burden immensely.

Taking the Road Less Travelled

My journey these past two years now, has taken a completely new direction. An unexpected direction for sure, but one that I am finally learning to embrace. Learning to accept. A huge part of it has meant letting go of things that I have clung to fervently, in the hope that I would wake up one day and realise that it was all just a bad dream, and the life I had always envisioned for myself would still be there.

How little we really know about ourselves, until something comes along that totally steers us off course and heads us into storms we are not sure we can weather. But we do. Somehow, we emerge at the other end, not a different person, but a person changed irreparably by the very nature of our trials. We emerge, not broken, but more whole. I am finally understanding.

It has taken much time and many, many trials to get to this point. I am grateful to be here. I am grateful to know which road I will walk for the next part of my journey. It's as if though our fragility gives us more strength. The juxtaposition of two very different energies. Holding us up, willing us on, forcing us to look deep inside for the wisdom that is always ours. If we would only look for it.

I am learning that what you most resist, is always a lesson disguised as quietly as a pearl hidden deep inside the oyster. Resistance holds back the realisation that there is a purpose in this pain. That God has a plan that is not yours to decide. Being human, that's a whole lot to swallow sometimes. But the yielding, the softening, the releasing brings it's own rewards and a deep peace that goes with it.

Two years ago, I really believed that I was happy. Or, maybe I wanted to believe I was happy. While I was working hard at bolstering that belief, a small part of the true me, the real Tricia, was dying inside. My self-esteem was being chipped away at, my heart was heavy and I knew that something was very, very wrong. Looking at it closely proved to be too painful. I chose to carry on my life, as if though everything was just fine. And so it was. On the outside at least. I had two beautiful children, a husband that loved me (or so I believed at the time and for the purpose of not becoming bitter, I will continue to believe that). I lived in a beautiful home, I had friends, I had everything. From the outside.

My husband made the decision for me. He told me he was leaving. We had problems in our marriage,they were very obvious. It was no secret to either of us. Yet, I was not willing to believe that we could not fix ourselves, fix each other. For those of you who know me, I have the loyalty and commitment of a pit-bull when it comes to protecting my own. I will fight to the bitter end for those I love. I took my wedding vows very seriously and would never have envisioned that I would have to give up my deep belief that I was in this for the long haul.

My question now is, at what price? Is there a price for feeling as if though your spirit is suffocating, but going on despite it? Pushing ahead, because, as women, that's what we do best. We protect, we fight for, we defend. We are warriors for our own causes. Can that price, simply, sometimes, be too high a price to pay?

I had been numbing myself for some time - tuning out, walking through life in a vacuum of emptiness. Hoping that by changing him, things would be fixable. I know now, that you can't always fix what's broken, especially if it's breaking you. It's just not worth that sacrifice. In retrospect. Hindsight is twenty-twenty of course.

The ensuing months of struggle, pain, self-esteem crashing, and looking to find in myself, how I had somehow failed. It's a deep blow to the ego. It's a deep blow as a mother, to think that I had failed my children, by failing to keep their family together, the unit that I wanted it to be.

Time and the ensuing wisdom, has taught me that it is not failing to put three hundred percent into something that was just simply not going to work. That although I had obviously contributed to the end of the relationship in many ways, it was not all about me. Many choices that were made were nothing to do with me. That pouring my heart and soul into my marriage of thirteen years, could not be considered a failure in the big scheme of things. Perhaps trying to cling to it, however, could be how I was failing, mostly myself.

Yes, hindsight is always more comfortable. While you're at the bottom of the pit, enmeshed in the pain and anger, it is hard to see further than those emotions. They define you. They tear you up and destroy you. What's important now, is that I have learnt, that this is not the road I want to be walking for the rest of my time here.

I have two beautiful little people that look up to me for guidance. My way of moving through this painful process and rising above it, is what will guide them in the future, when they encounter their own struggles. Mostly, I owe them the knowledge that being able to breathe in your life, being free to be who you are, and being loved unconditionally anyway, cherished for that, is something that we deserve in a relationship with another. That it is attainable, often with much love and sacrifice thrown in.

Life has changed for the better lately. I have fought a tough battle and I have emerged, not unscathed, but ready to move on. Like the warrior pose in yoga, my lessons have empowered me, as opposed to giving me, power. The difference is subtle but so much more preferable.

Many friends have left my life because of my situation, but they have been replaced by new ones, who have breathed fresh air into my journey. I have connected with many people in the blogging world, who are writing down their own journals of growth, pain and emergence. It's uplifting to realise that I am truly not alone.

The hurts will never be forgotten, the wounds will probably always be a part of me. Especially the hurt caused to my children. It is something that I am working on forgiving myself for. It is something that I am striving not to have define me. It will hopefully teach them that their mother does believe in herself enough to know that she actually deserves to be happy and fulfilled, despite that all that has happened these past two years. That she's not giving up on them. Ever. That life is beginning again, with a different title. That we are still a family. That things have changed, but the love we have for each other hasn't.

Mostly, I am quietly listening to God and waiting more patiently for the next part of the story to unfold.

Colouring outside of the lines ....

I have one of those dual personalities. There is a huge part of me that loves structure and rules and feels safe following them. There is another part of my personality that craves beating to my own drum and being different. It is a difficult challenge for me. The strong pull between the two sides of me, makes it difficult to keep my balance sometimes.

I am the one that you'll find waiting for the green man at the crosswalk, even if there are no cars coming. (I know, it drives me crazy too, but I just can't step in the road if the man is red...)The one who will follow the rules, like not talking in Church, never taking a pen from the doctor's office, or feeling the need to tell the truth at all times. I have a really hard time not doing the right thing and it can get a little boring at times.

That said, boring, I'm not. I think, over these years of staying home with my children, I have lost a little piece of the more carefree Tricia. I have lost touch with the side of me that was quietly always up for a challenge. My competitive nature is well hidden underneath the "do the right thing" side of me.

To be honest, I miss it. Very much. I sometimes take myself way too seriously, especially as a parent. It's the one role in life that gives you permission to have fun sometimes. I hold on too tight on the reins that bond me to my children. I forget that sometimes a laid-back, go with the flow mama would inject a joie de vivre into parenting. Probably make my children happier. I sense that I am on the verge of a breakthrough in this what sometimes feels mundane chapter in my life. I know I will get out in the world again and find my passion and niche. Something tells me my children will like that too.

Sometimes I forget the things I did BEFORE I became a parent. I accomplished many things in my life. I left home after a year of teaching, with about $300,00 in my pocket and made my own life in London. I became a tour guide and traveled extensively. I survived on fresh air sometimes. I took risks, chances and made many, many friends. At the end of my adventuring, I started teaching again and became settled. I had a great apartment, a job teaching that I loved and a wonderful social life. I had the benefit of living in London and being so close to Europe where I could spend my summer holidays. My life was good.

In a heartbeat, I chose to leave all of that behind for the man that I loved. He lived in the USA and I never hesitated to give it all up, so I could be with him. It meant I couldn't work for six months, it meant that I was no longer financially independent, it meant that I gave up all of my friends and moved to a new culture. But, the part of me that loved the challenge was up for it. I did it willingly. I will never be sorry for that decision, despite my current circumstances. Taking that chance, led to me having these two beautiful children.

I have reminded myself of these things lately, when I have been feeling that I haven't achieved much in my life these past ten years. Because I have. Maybe in the quiet, unassuming way that is often the life of a parent who stays home. But, there is not really a moment of it that I would trade in. I'm making a difference in the lives of two children. I am their compass. Their teacher. Their dictator at times (ha)! but mostly their guide through the pitfalls and challenges of life.

So, when I feel like I've lost my passion and as I stand at the crossing waiting for the green man, I know my time will come. I will one of these fine days, throw caution to the wind and step out there. Again. Watch out world, because I'm coming with my crayons and will soon be painting outside those lines again! My inner rebel is coming out to play ...

Mother's Day

Being a mother, has for me, been the single most amazing thing that this life has given me. Outside of my wedding day and other important events in my life, the day that your child is born, changes you irreparably. Your life is no longer about you. Your world broadens and the experience it brings is immeasurable. You are now responsible for this beautiful, helpless little life.

Being a mother has not always been an easy journey for me. I waited to have children a little later in my life. It was a big adjustment. Most of my insecurity stemmed from the fact that I didn't believe I could or would be a good mother. I was terrified of making mistakes, which inevitably I did and still do. I suffered post-partum depression after both of my children and that made the journey very difficult at times.

The rest of it, pure joy and unconditional love. I see my intense, passionate little girl, so much like her mother and so much not like her. I see her wonderful potential and her love of life and it makes my heart hurt with the love I feel. I see my second child, my little boy, and wonder how I could ever have felt that I would never love him as much as his sister. A friend told me that my heart would just grow bigger. How right she was. It simply expands to fit each child. I wouldn't change one minute of it. I am blessed. Completely blessed. My only wish is that I can have a big part in influencing my children for the good. That one day, they will look back and remember the good things and not so much the harder ones. That they can know that their mother always tried her best.

Speaking of mothers, I would not be a mother, or indeed, breathing air, if it hadn't been for my own mother. The mother of five children, who are all as individual as night is day. I know she and I have had our difficulties over the years, but being a mother has put some of those into perspective. Especially understanding how tough this job can sometimes be. Our relationship has matured over the years, and I see her loving my children, so deeply, and it gives me great joy.

The things that my children wrote on the homemade cards that they made, are the things that I will always treasure. I cried, but they were happy tears. Their love and sincerity is precious and innocent and I want to hold onto these days and keep them little for ever. For now, just loving them day by day will have to do.



Happy Mother's Day to my sisters, friends and blog friends who are all wonderful mothers and people. Hug your children tight today. Motherhood is the ultimate gift. And I especially salute all those single mothers out there. It's a difficult road to travel, but the results will be worth it.

Fifty Years!

On April 4th, my parents celebrated fifty years of marriage. Yes, 50! That is no small accomplishment. I love them both so much and am so lucky to have had their example in my life. Their marriage has been through all the ups and downs that come with many years and five children to raise. I am proud of their ability to stand by each other through thick and thin, especially this year, with my Dad's illness. They have stood the test of time and they are both amazing people.

Despite my many ups and downs with you both Mom and Dad, you know that I love you. You are great parents and wonderful, wonderful grandparents. The love that our children have for their Nana and Grandpa says it all. Here's to the next five centuries! We truly wish we could be together for this celebration - maybe later this year?

Easter Sunday

Easter Sunday was a beautiful, if chilly day this year. I love the feast of Easter. It brings so much hope, especially at a time of so much insecurity and difficulty in this country and many others. It is the centre of our faith. We went to the children's service at our little local church, which was beautiful. Then, my dearest friend Heather and her husband Rich invited us over for an Easter lunch. Heather's friendship and love for me have meant so much to both myself and the children over these past two years. I feel that they are almost family. Not to mention that she has two boys of 7 and 4 that Brian adores. She also has a beautiful baby girl who has just turned one.


Being there was like being at home. We have such a comfortable friendship and Heather and myself relate on so many levels, including the fact that we are both extremely emotional people. I treasure their friendship in my life. It was a wonderful day overall.

The children, of course, looked forward to their Easter baskets from the Bunny himself and hunted for eggs in the garden. I hid more eggs in the basement at Heather's house and that kept them all very busy for at least 45 minutes. Plenty of chocolate being eaten, coupled with three little boys, meant that there was plenty of energy being expended! I really missed my own family today, but am so glad to have such great friends.

Hope for Spring

Spring is in the air. It is trying so hard to get here. We've had those cold mornings, turning into warm days. We've had wind, lots of wind and plenty of rainy days. But, the past two days, things have sprung into life. The trees are in full blossom and it was the Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington DC yesterday. The daffodils are out with their cheery yellow colour. The grass is starting to get green. Sports have begun for the season. Best of all, we are finally getting to spend some time OUTSIDE again. The windows are open, blowing heavenly fresh air into the house. My heart is hopeful. Easter is coming. A new season is upon us. A new beginning. I am grateful for all these blessings today.

My Micaela

Trustworthy,
Humorous,
Loving,

Wishes to be an artist some day.

Dreams of meeting the Jonas Brothers.

Wants to visit Italy.

Who wonders how they built the Great Wall of China.

Who fears spiders.

Who is afraid of death.

Who likes panda bears.

Who believes in God.

Who loves ice-cream and Oreos.
Who loves to play soccer.
Who loves school, especially Social Studies.
Who loves to sing.

Who plans to be an artist.
Who plans to be a mother.
Who plans to say no to drugs and nicotine.

By Micaela Moran

Poignant....
*My own little idealist. And poet. I'm so proud of her.*

Random Picture Challenge!

Hop over to my blogger friend Brittany's blog and join in the Random Picture Challenge for the week.



3rd folder
1st picture with the color BROWN


This picture was taken in Fall 2006 in our back garden. My little outdoor lover was helping rake up the leaves and got distracted playing with them. Only picture I could find with brown - the leaves count right?

It's in the Soul ....

There's something about Ireland that gets into the soul. It's in mine, that's for sure. Not only because it's the country of my birth, but because it has a way of getting into your very psyche. There's just 'something' about Ireland.

It's really hard to put into words. Modern day Ireland has many problems, just like the rest of the world. But, when you go into the country, take in the stunning scenery, experience the wildness of the landscape, or are welcomed by the locals, it has a way of staying with you forever.

It's bloody history has resulted in a passionate land, full of passionate people. The scenery almost hurts your heart, it's so spectacular. It's music, food and culture could teach us a thing or two about living life to the fullest.

I spent a year as a tour guide in Ireland. It was something that came easily, my own passion shining through, as I regaled of battles fought and history made. It's not hard to get addicted.

Now, I see my own children inheriting the passion for their heritage. Although they've only been exposed to it on several occasions, their love of this land shines through them. They talk about going there with sparkling eyes and obvious pride. They put on Irish music and dance around like banshees immersing themselves in a culture they've inherited from me. And it makes me proud. Proud that they are Irish. American Irish. But, they've got it already. That Irish thing. Ireland is in their souls, and it's there to stay.


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Happy St Patrick's Day 2009

Happy St Patrick's Day to all - far and wide. We've had flu in the house, so have not been doing too much this week. And yes, I know, I need to blog soon. I'm just chasing my own tail most days and haven't got to doing it lately. Hope you all enjoy celebrating Ireland and the Irish with your green, white and gold today!

Make a Smilebox greeting

My Sweet Boy - how do I love you?

How does this mama love you? Let me count the ways....

1. I love your smile. You are the world's happiest child. Minus the twelve weeks you had colic, you are just one happy little being. It lifts my heart every day.

2. You are charming - oh yes, definitely my little charmer. You could melt the heart of the hardest person - just by looking and smiling at them - and you know it! Your teachers and friends know it too - you are so hard to resist.

3. You are so curious. You have asked questions since the day you could talk, you are truly interested in the world around you and you show it. I love that about you because it reminds me of me!

4. You are one kindhearted little boy. You are just not the grabber, or pusher, or taker. Sometimes it worries me a little in that you are always the one to put someone else first and I worry that you will be taken advantage of. But, I know it's a great quality and will serve you well in life.

5. You are creative beyond belief. You can "create" a fort out of a few things. You can use a cardboard box for any number of things. You can create a restaurant in our living room in five minutes - including menus, tablecloth and candles for ambiance. You are always getting into things that are not yours and "borrowing" them for one of your projects. I know it drives me crazy at times, but deep down I am very happy that you are so full of great ideas.

6. You are a deep carer, again like your mama and your big sister. You worry about the trees being cut down to make room for a building, you cry with me when you see a deer on the side of the road. You love your pets with a passion and even though you've pulled many a tail in your day, your compassion for living things shines through you.

7. You now share our family's passion for books and reading. You have learned to read with such expression and observation and I am so proud of you. I love to see you with your face in a book after school, just like your sister.

8. You are a major manipulator. You do not take no for an answer, but you do it in the most charming way and even for someone like your mama who is pretty black and white with the rules, you do break me down on occasion.

9. You have a connection with the angels just like your sister. You talk about people that we have lost with that spiritual knowledge that you know that they are looking out for you. You know God with the innocence of a child.

10. You are simply put, the best little boy. Your hugs and kisses, your kind nature and your winning smile, just melt my heart every day. Happy Birthday my big seven year old. I love you the most. (Your favourite saying). I hope you will one day read this and know how much joy you bring to my life.

Love, Your Mommy xoxox

Make a Smilebox slideshow

The Different Faces Of Love

I am not a fan of Valentine's Day, but I am a fan of love. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I am a huge romantic at heart and am an idealistic dreamer. I love the idea of true love and all that. That doesn't mean it happens in real life though. As I've got older, I've realised that love is not an ideal, it is an action. It is something you do, as opposed to something you feel. And that's a really great realisation for me.





Even more importantly, it's not the big moments, the big days and events - it's the small little moments that are really about true love. Not the romantic kind, the lasting kind that connects us all on a soul level. (OK, I warned you that I was a romantic!)





Love for me is my little family. These two beautiful children who are gifts from God and really only on loan to me. I love to enjoy the little moments with them and love who they are. They are the best example of unconditional love I've ever experienced in life, because they are just that. Unconditional. I, as their mother, am not so good at that unconditional thing. Growing up has a way of doing that to you. But, the love that we all share, even in the grumpy moments, the yelling moments, the stressful daily life moments, only serve to remind me of how sweet the beautiful ones are. The experience of true love, is to be found in the imperfect, sometimes more so than the perfect.



My idea of love has shifted so much these past two years. I know that you can't really look for love. You have to give it in order to receive it. And I am learning that, ever so slowly, and not so patiently. Love is an action. And I need all the practice I can get.



I've attached a few pictures of the children at their Valentine Parties' at school. I've also attached a little slideshow that I made to illustrate the many faces of love in our family.

Love can be a feeling, but it needs to be an action. And we don't need a Valentine's Day to remember.

That said, I'll never turn down flowers or chocolate, or come to think of it candlelight and romance.... ;)

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Random Picture Challenge 6.0

Hop on over to my blogger buddy Brittany's great blog and participate in the Random Picture Challenge! My photo was taken in January 2007, when Brian decided to show me his best downward dog yoga pose. As a yoga teacher, I was obviously delighted at his talents! *smile*... ;)

Snow, Sleet, Sledding, Slipping and Sliding

Winter is here for sure. We got some snow finally and the children had two days off school. They had a great time. They are definitely outdoor children. They would have slept out there if I had let them. Brian, bless his heart, helps me shovel the driveway and is really a hard worker. The girls helped a little too, but preferred to drink hot chocolate and chat. (hmmm, who does this remind me of?) Benji is in seventh heaven in the snow - what is it with dogs and snow - he is crazy for it! Enjoy my little slideshow and I PROMISE blog posts will be forthcoming very soon!

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Prayers Please

Please pray for this little girl who has cancer and is probably not going to make it. She is only two years old. It makes my heart break, but I know that prayer will help her family through to the end. Thank you.

Yes We Can! Presidential Inauguration 2009

I have heard many rumblings from friends recently that I have not been blogging in a while. I ask for patience. There are plenty of posts that have been started. We are just getting ready to put our house on the market and that has been occupying most of the time that I am not teaching or with the children. But, I promise there will be updates about the events of our lives very soon.

Today, however, I simply could not pass up. History was made in the USA, as we saw a new president elected, and what I believe, is the beginning of a new era of hope for this country. I also believe that the American people elected this man because they desperately wanted change, and they believed he would be the one to bring change about. He has a long, difficult road ahead, especially in the present political and economic climate. But, I was proud to watch him take the presidential oath today and feel that he does indeed symbolise a new hope for a weary nation.

I was also proud of how interested my children were in the whole event. We watched it on TV and they showed great respect and interest, as they soaked up all the ceremony and excitement. I did think of taking them into Washington DC on the train, but with the weather as cold as it was, we were wise to stay home and watch from here.

Let's hope we an all look forward now. I really wanted to record this historical event on my blog, in the hopes that one day my children will look back and remember this day. History was definitely made. Let's hope we can now continue making it and see the USA becoming a country of leadership, example and integrity once more.

You're Beautiful Birthday Girl!

Our precious Micaela turned eleven years old on the 27th December and it's so hard to believe. It seems like yesterday that God blessed us with a beautiful dark haired little girl, who has blessed our lives with all the love we could ever wish for. Micaela, we love you - Happy, Happy Birthday!

Make a Smilebox scrapbook

The Little Things

For those of you that are wondering, I did not fall off the planet or something! Life has been filled with the many activities of the season. We've had plenty going on. Christmas has come and gone, although it is a season, not a day. We are now looking forward with hope to a New Year and a new beginning.

In the meanwhile, I've been reflecting the past few weeks, as we were busy doing things for Christmas and preparing for the season, how much it's the little things that are sometimes barely remembered that are the ones that make me the happiest. It's not the big, dramatic moments, it's the little events and things that my children do or say, that makes life so much more worthwhile.

Such as :

* The little person who visits me first thing every morning, climbs in beside me and gives me the biggest hugs. I am the first that he tell just how much he loves me. No matter how early it is, or how I pretend to be annoyed at being awoken sometimes, I treasure those quiet cuddles and enjoy his beautiful little spirit.

* The innocence of both my children. The joy with which they approach Christmas and the season, their excitement and faith, is completely contagious.

* The love that my little boy has for 'Nick' and 'Dave', his newly acquired tiny frogs, even though I was opposed to getting them in the first place. He loves them as if though they were people and treats them like royalty.

* Little arms slipping around me while I cook, or clean or am doing something otherwise mundane. Little "I love you's", heard at regular intervals during the day, even when I'm the world's worst mother at that moment.

* Reading to Brian or with Micaela every night - this is our favourite time of the day and I don't want it to ever go away. No matter how tired I am, there is a connection and peace in reading a book, followed by prayers, which calms us all down.

* The way that my children care for others - they raised over twenty eight dollars for St Jude's Hospital again this year. It makes me proud to know that they are aware of how lucky they are. (well, sometimes... hah!)

* Going in to both my children at the end of a long day and kissing their sleeping heads. Their sweetness and innocence while they are sleeping is irreplaceable.

* Seeing them learn lessons, even if it is the hard way. It lets me know that I'm doing something right.

* Hearing their laughter, that deep, belly laughter that comes so easily to children. It is music to my ears.

* Knowing that no matter how hard a day has been, how many hurtful words might have been spoken, how many fights were broken up, rules broken, we usually always manage to make it right before we go to bed. They are incredibly forgiving of their less than perfect mother.

* These little tiny things make everything worth it, no matter how hard the journey that day, week or month might be. I am grateful. So, grateful.

Christmas Cheer!

In case anyone's wondering where I've been, I'm back! My computer crashed totally and had to go to the shop to get all my data retrieved. I'll catch up eventually, but in the meanwhile, a little slide-show of all the activities will have to suffice! :)

Getting Into The Spirit

Make a Smilebox slideshow