Let Them Learn

9 weeks ago, when our “safe at home” measures were put into place, we made it the kids’ job to work together to clean up the kitchen after dinner. Literally, I walk my plate to the sink and leave. So. Stinking. Hard at first because I just knew they were going to do it all wrong. And if I just stood there and told them what to do then it would all be good. But that would defeat the purpose of allowing them to be problem solvers and figure things out. And they did figure it out. Eventually they knew where to find storage containers and dish soap and the things they hand-washed actually looked clean, and they got much better at eyeballing which storage dish they’d need for leftovers. And they didn’t complain about having to take on the responsibility. And it’s been 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 glorious. But the one thing they haven’t mastered is the dishwasher. It is taking all of my willpower to not rearrange this right now. It’s completely wrong. Nothing is arranged efficiently and if I took care of it, I could fit 5 more things in there. But then, what would be the point of having them do it? I know that as much as this is a lesson for them, it’s a lesson for me too. Let. Them. Learn. The way I think something must be done isn’t the same as someone else. They’ll figure it out eventually and they won’t remember how their mom used to nag them about it. They’ll remember that I nagged them about other things, to be sure. But the more I can let go and let them figure it out, the better. They’ll gain valuable tools for their problem-solving tool belt, so that when they’re big kids with big problems, and adults with adult problems, they’ll be equipped to figure it out, rather than crumble and give up. Is that dishwasher the epitome of misused space? Yes. But will those dishes still get clean? Yes. And will I have had to do it? Nope. When they need to learn from me, I will be right beside them. Like this week, the twins learned to multiply fractions with my hands-on help. I’d never leave them to fend for themselves when it really matters. 

The trick to all of it is identifying when it really matters. 

Does anyone know how to do that, definitively?

Be a light

OK...gotta be honest...Hear my heart...I’m seeing a lot of social media posts to the effect of “I went to the store and I can’t believe how many people were there! The roads were busy! Stay home!”...Ummm...you’re there too. And those people are thinking the exact same thing...about you...

What if: That lady just got off her shift at the hospital and had to pick up a few things. And that man is doing his once-weekly trip out for groceries. And that young mom just needs one friggin hour of time to herself so she can still love her children when this is all over. And that guy lives by himself and is so depressed from sitting alone in his apartment, that he just needed to be around people for 10 minutes. And that woman’s abusive husband is now working from home and her only escape is the grocery run. And that dad doesn’t own a second fridge, so he has to run to the store several times a week for milk for his toddler. 

Traffic and people in stores doesn’t mean people are ignoring the guidelines. Those doctors and nurses and EMTs and firemen and postal/delivery people and grocery store workers and InstaCart delivery people and restaurant workers/delivery people and mission-essential active duty military members and all the other people who are not able to work from home still have to get to work. 

Bottom line: Lets all show some grace and assume everyone is doing their best. True, they might be idiots who aren’t doing their best! BUT I’ve found that it sure makes life a whole lot easier and a whole lot more joyful if we approach it from the standpoint of “everyone is a work in progress, doing the best they can under these circumstances.” 

Be a light. 

I might be doing something important in your life...

It feels like it's time to tell you a story. A story still in-the-making.

Has God ever made a promise to you?

In November, 2015, we were living in Arlington, Virginia. Alan was stationed at the Pentagon. We were expecting any day to hear news of a new assignment the following summer. There was a short list of places we might move to, and we had submitted our "preferences" several months prior. (Which is such a haze, by the way, because I don't even think anyone reads those. Or they save them for when they need a good laugh.) A couple of the options were in the Washington, D.C., area, and we were hoping for one of those so that we wouldn't have to move because the new assignment would only be for one year. We discussed the possibility of living apart for that one year, but ultimately decided that wasn't what we wanted. I had decided that if we had to move somewhere new for just a year, then we needed a house with an extra bedroom because I would just keep everything boxes and store them in there. I wouldn't even hang pictures on the walls. Why bother? One year, in and out. Why even bother doing all the things? I was not on board with moving and quite frankly, I was making myself sick worrying about it. And we didn't even know if we would move yet! You know how women are: we have 1001 problems, and most of them are made up in our heads.

The worry over where we would move was stressing me out, so I turned to specific prayer. I asked God to give me peace, and to release me from this yoke. It didn't take long before I could feel God stirring in my heart, and I was listening. He was telling me that this, too, He had His hand in. I was able to release that worry and just give it to God, trusting Him to choose the right place for us. The news came almost immediately. Literally the day after I said, "OK, God, I'm giving this to you. I know you'll put us exactly where we need to be to serve others and glorify you," we got the news that we would be moving to Montgomery, Alabama. See what God did there? There is no coincidence. God reassured me that I could trust Him and prepared my heart for a move just before He gave us the news of the move. I'm not going to lie, my heart did sink a tiny bit. Why didn't He give us what we really wanted? Why couldn't what we wanted and what He wanted be the same? 

We rented a house in Alabama based on photos we saw online. Signed a contract, put down a deposit, gave our current landlord notice, announced it on social media and in the Christmas card...all the things...

At the time I was also reading the daily devotions in Sarah Young's Jesus Calling. On January 20, a portion of the message seemed to jump off the page at me. It was almost like the rest of the message disappeared and one particular sentence just got bigger and bolder, and I knew it was a message God had for me. So I paid attention. I can still recite that sentence from memory: "I may be doing something important in your life, something quite different from what you expected." Whoa. I was very excited! I immediately thought about my Mary Kay business, and wondered if it could have to do with that?! I couldn't wait to find out!

But that was rather selfish of me, assuming it was all about me just because I was the one that received the message.

Fast-forward to February, 2016. Alan called me from work to say that he had received word that we might not move, after all. He was being invited to be part of a Fellowship program with a think tank in Washington, D.C. He could choose - school in Alabama or fellowship in D.C. We had a choice?! That almost never happens in the military! So we kind of didn't know what to do with that...we kind of panicked. They told him he had about two days to decide, so he called every mentor he had and started collecting as much data as he could so we could make an educated decision. I started praying. All of his mentors were telling him he was crazy to even consider not taking the fellowship. My Mentor wasn't telling me anything. One day passed. The morning of the second day, I was praying in the shower. I'm not the only one who does that, right? And I heard it. God spoke that same message from January 20th, into my heart. I don't know how you hear God, but that's the best way I can describe hearing Him. It's like my heart has ears and He speaks to that...I just suddenly know something came from Him. That morning, he said "I may be doing something important in your life, something quite different from what you expected." This! This was it!! Quite honestly, as time had passed, I had forgotten all about that promise because nothing had happened yet. But God did not forget. Also, I had assumed that the "something different" would be all about me (selfish), but I had failed to factor in that Alan, at the time, didn't think he could hear God. He just hadn't figured out how to distinguish God's voice yet. So OF COURSE God would speak to me! I quickly finished the shower and called Alan, who was driving to the Pentagon. He answered. I said "We're supposed to stay and do the Fellowship. God just told me. He gave me the message from January again, and that different thing is this! It's so unexpected - it's so different from what we thought we would be doing! We're supposed to stay here." And what he said next still brings tears to my eyes. He said, "Honey, now I also know we are supposed to stay. I was just-this-second praying, asking God for an answer of what we should do, telling Him I just wanted to be able to hear Him, then the phone rang. I literally thought Jesus might be calling me, and it was you with this message." (Bless his heart.) He was going to tell them we will take the Fellowship. Thankfully, we were able to undo the things we had done before, and we canceled the lease in Montgomery, renewed our lease in Arlington, and just continued life as usual.

Why would God do that? Why would He prepare my heart for the news of a move, only to have this other opportunity come along that means we won't move, after all? Did that mean I didn't hear what I thought I heard? Or that it wasn't God, after all? Or that this was not the fulfillment of that promise? I was full of self-doubt, but could hear Him say "Be still..."

In preparation for the move (when we were still moving) I had scheduled some follow-up medical appointments for myself. If you're new here, I'm a breast cancer survivor. I was diagnosed in 2007, when my oldest son was seven months old.

I'm going to take a minute here to tell you how God had a hand in that, too. I had felt a lump that I assumed was a clogged milk duct, because I was still breastfeeding. I figured it would go away with some warm compress. But I was watching Grey's Anatomy one night and one story was about a new mom who ignored a lump she thought was a clogged milk duct. But it was cancer. She waited too long to see a doctor, and she didn't survive. I called my doctor first thing in the morning. They did an ultrasound and didn't think it was anything serious, but wanted to get a better look. They asked if I would be comfortable weaning my baby so they could get a more clear image. I agreed and did a follow-up two weeks later. The spot was totally gone. It was a clogged milk duct. But about two weeks later, in the shower, I felt another one and I knew immediately that this one was different. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The rest of the story doesn't really matter here. I had surgery, got treatment, and moved on. What's important is the way God spoke to me then. He presented me with a situation He knew would prompt me to act. Even if that was thru a silly TV show.

Back to 2016. I was still seeing an oncologist annually to keep an eye on things, and was supposed to see a breast surgeon annually, but had a bad experience with the first one I saw at Walter Reed so I just dropped the ball on that. Long story short, I saw a surgeon immediately upon moving to D.C. from Okinawa, and expressed my desire to have a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy. She told me I was being radical and she wouldn't do it. When we found out we were moving, though, I knew I better see all my doctors one more time before the chaos set in. Plus, remember, I wasn't going to bother with all the things if we were only going to live somewhere for a year. And, anyway, how good could the doctors possibly be in Montgomery? I'd rather see them at Walter Reed. I seriously thought that. My first appointment was on May 12th, with my medical oncologist, who reviewed my bloodwork (all good), said I was a couple of months past-due for my mammogram, and asked why she didn't see any visits to my breast surgeon in the past year. I told her what had happened with my first visit to the breast surgeon and that I hadn't been back because I didn't feel like she listened to me. She was upset about my experience and quickly assured me she could get me matched with someone she was sure would be supportive of my desires, even if she had to refer me to someone outside the military. She referred me to the Chief of Surgical Oncology at Walter Reed. If anyone could approve anything, it was him. We also scheduled my overdue mammogram, which was the following week, on May 17th.

After my mammo, they did as they always do: they asked me to sit tight, so they could review the images before I get changed, in case they need to take any additional ones. But what happened next was different. The nurse came back and brought the radiologist in with her. They displayed my images side-by-side with my last images, taken about 15 months prior. There wasn't one new spot. There were at least a dozen. It looked like someone splattered paint on the image. The spots were small, so that was good, but they were all over the image of my right breast. This was definitely not good. The next step would be a biopsy, so we scheduled that for June 9th. Afterwards, they once again asked me to wait before dressing, then escorted me to a private room to speak with the radiologist about the results. The good news was it wasn't cancer. The bad news was it wasn't cancer yet, and it needed to be removed. Since my medical oncologist had already been working my referral to a more suitable breast surgeon, I already had an appointment with him scheduled for Jul 6th.

Things began to happen very quickly now.  My surgeon was completely supportive of a bilateral mastectomy, and felt it needed to happen pretty quickly, within three months. If that many spots had developed in just a little over a year, he was concerned it was going to progress and spread further if we waited too long. He referred me to a plastic surgeon to discuss the reconstructive portion. He referred me to the genetic counselor to re-evaluate any genetic predisposition I might have that they could determine since the last time I had this testing done. I attended both of those appointments five days later. The two surgeons coordinated their schedules and my surgery was planned for September 30, 2016.

Let me pause here to ponder something. Do you suppose I would have been in such a hurry to schedule my appointment with my oncologist if we hadn't gotten word we were moving? Nope. I mean, I would have done it eventually. In the fall, most likely, because as a preschool teacher spring was the busiest time of the year. Then, summer would have hit and there was no way I was scheduling any appointment I would have to drag the kids with me to, or pay a sitter for. I would have waited until they were back in school. Thankfully, God presented me with a situation He knew would prompt me to act, which He knew I needed to do to potentially save my life.

It's fine to fast-forward through some of the medical stuff now. In short, over the course of the next nine months I had three surgeries to remove and reconstruct my breasts. After my mastectomy, when I met with my surgical oncologist for the follow up, he told me we had made the right decision. By the time they removed the tissue, my left breast also showed lesions, which had not been present in the mammogram just four months prior. Confirmation was nice. Today, I shudder to think what might have happened had we not been given the news of the move. The process that started in May would have slipped forward at least four months, and who knows what would have grown by the time we got around to the surgery...

During this same timeframe, we also went thru a "selection" cycle. We were hopeful that Alan would be selected to a senior leadership position somewhere. But the cycle came and went and he wasn't matched. We just couldn't understand why. He had checkmarks in all the right boxes. And being selected for this Fellowship was another strong "check".  This was something we had prayed for, hoped for, worked for...why would God not provide? All we could be sure of was that there was a reason...that did make it a little easier to not see his name on that list, but there was still a little sting.

Knowing we would be facing a move after the Fellowship ended in the summer of 2017, we started to look at some options. With Alan not being matched for leadership, we figured this would be our final assignment. Where would we want to go to finish with a bang? We filled each of the five preference spots with overseas assignments, and also applied for a special program that could place us in a number of overseas locations. Out of left field, we were sent to Langley AFB, Virginia. That wasn't even on the radar - we weren't expecting it at all.We had been preparing the kids by telling them Grandma might have to keep the dog and the bird when we moved so far away...they didn't even have to pack a snack to make this move. It was a total letdown. It felt like such a blow. Not only did Alan not get a leadership position, he also didn't get any of the dozen jobs he requested. What was going on? But we had to trust, once again, that God had this because so far, he hasn't NOT had anything. It's always worked out for the best. So in late June, 2017, we packed up and moved three hours south, to Yorktown, Virginia.

The time between listing preferences, getting an assignment, and actually moving is sometimes long - seven months, in this case. So you don't always know what life is going to look like when you get around to the actual move. As it turned out, the three surgeries I had undergone had not yet completed my reconstruction, so I would require additional procedures. Of course, it is plainly obvious to me now, that God moved us this tiny distance so that I could remain with my known and trusted surgeon. This may have been quite different from what we expected, but it was important for us to not go too far. Still, a year and a half later, He remembered that promise and He was in control. Again, I had forgotten. I had surgery number 4 in October, 2017. We knew afterwards that I would require one more, but decided to take a break for a little while. Give my body a chance to rest and recover.

Rumblings of deployments had begun almost immediately upon moving to Langley. I expected any day to hear Alan tell me he was deploying. There were several close calls. Another "selection cycle" came and Alan's chances of being matched to another leadership position looked good. We covered the possibility in prayer. But he wasn't matched, and we once again decided God had something else, and we would be fine. But there was definite disappointment. We're human. So we talked about what to do next. We could go ahead and retire. But that wouldn't be a good long-term decision, financially. We could apply for some other special programs. But our middle schooler politely requested we didn't ask for a move. I relayed that I felt strongly that God had something else in store for us - this was not our last assignment. I just felt Him telling me this wasn't it. We ultimately decided to just sit tight and see what happens, but we knew that not being on that match list left Alan a sitting duck for a deployment.

We made it almost a year. Around Halloween, 2018, Alan checked his email late one night and there it was: he would have to go for six months, leaving in early January, 2019. He could decline. Get out. We could just retire and not have to endure that. Surely this wasn't what God had in store for us. But declining would have been an emotional decision - not the right one, and we knew that. Alan hadn't deployed in over 10 years. It was his turn, and he was actually happy to serve in that way. In prayer, I still found God telling me He had something more for us, but I wasn't sure what that was.

A week later, on November 6th, I underwent surgery number 5 - the finale! This season was finally behind us. This was probably the toughest of all five surgeries, as far as my mobility went, so we stayed with friends locally on the night of my surgery and made the three hour trek home the following day. We got home around noon and I went to bed. A couple of hours later, Alan woke me up to tell me that he had just gotten the call. He had been selected to be the Mission Support Group Commander at Offutt (AFB in Omaha). WHAT?!? I still feel terrible to this day because I know I was unable to give that news the reaction it deserved, due to pain and drugs and sleepiness...but I was flabbergasted! I immediately recognized that this was not a coincidence. The very next day after my surgical journey was complete, we receive this news. God had been in control all along. I had once again forgotten, but God had never forgotten. He was still keeping his promise. God was always going to give us the desire of our heart, but he was going to take us there on a quite different path because that was what we needed.

We are looking forward to our move to Omaha for many reasons. The opportunity is the fulfillment of a career-long dream and goal. We have friends that live there. It's one day closer to Texas. Even though he won't be flying, it's still the "home base" for Alan's jet. The winters are lovely. But really, we are looking forward to this move because we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it is where God intends us to be. It's the plan he had for us.

I don't know if this is the end of the story or not. I'll keep you posted. But in the meantime, I'm working very hard to remember the promises God makes to me each and every day. Because how beautiful is it to watch them be fulfilled? He's a promise-keeper.

High Five for #5

Here’s the thing about breast cancer. It doesn’t sleep. It doesn’t give up. It doesn’t discriminate. It steals those we love without even thinking twice. 

Be your own advocate because NOBODY knows YOU better than YOU. 12+years ago I beat it, but 2 years ago it attempted a comeback, but we were watching. Waiting. Guarding. So we caught it before it could even become a six-letter-word. I wasn’t having any of it. Today, over two years later, I finished what should be the final reconstructive surgery. Surgery #5. I feel so blessed to be facing all of this healthy- not in conjunction with any sort of treatment. And over a glass of wine, I will be happy to tell you all about God’s hand in this journey. I’m so grateful to Him for the doors he closed so that others might be opened to allow this. Because it wasn’t without its obstacles. But I knew it was what I NEEDED to do. It’s been a challenging two years on a lot of fronts. But it’s been such a relief to wake up without the worry I had before. Plus, my reconstruction came with some perks! I’m happy to talk about those over a second glass of wine 😉

All I can say is do what you need to do when you need to do it. So you will be around to do the things you want to do when you want to do them. 

Don't wait.

I love these pictures. Adam walked the entire Race for the Cure in Omaha eight years ago, while I was pregnant with the twins.

Ten years ago, a self-check revealed a lump that was diagnosed as breast cancer. Two surgeries, chemo, radiation, years of medications and scans and blood tests and on and on...The possibility of never having any more children was real and hurtful. Being curled up on the couch, in pain from what the chemo was doing to my body. Attending my 10 year high school reunion in a wig, and flying home early the very next day to receive a chemo treatment. Serving as a bridesmaid in my best friend's wedding wearing that awful wig. Having a plane full of people look at you strangely because you're wearing a germ mask. They're wondering what's wrong with you, what you might be passing on to them, totally ignorant of the fact that you're worried about what they might be passing on to your worn-down immune system. Cancer treatment is no walk in the park. I did everything I could then to fight it so that I could look myself in the eyes in the mirror and declare I had done all I could, should it ever show itself again. 

But deep down, I knew...I always told those closest to me that somehow I knew that wasn't the end of that disease for me. I just felt like we would meet again...it was inevitable.

Life took us to Japan, where we were blessed doubly with Anaya and Audie. Anaya's name is actually of Hebrew origin, meaning "God answered." He surely did by giving us the gift of more babies after my treatment. After they were born, I inquired about having some permanent surgeries done to put a nail in the cancer coffin. Being where we were geographically, it would have been a logistical nightmare, so they offered to watch me very closely, and they recommended I request surgery upon our return to the U.S. When we arrived in the D.C. area, and I was referred to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, I was optimistic about reaching a more permanent solution. However, I was met with resistance from my assigned surgeon (a female), who felt I was being "drastic."  She didn't know what I knew about our inevitable meeting that would happen again...But I allowed her to shut my intention down. I continued getting my mammograms and bloodwork, but stopped pursuing what I knew I needed to pursue. Don't do that. Advocate for yourself. 

Sixteen months ago, my annual mammogram looked like it had paint splattered across it. Not just one questionable spot had appeared since the prior year's - a dozen had. Those spots were later determined to be well on their way to cancer, but I didn’t let them get that far. This ugly scan gave me the leverage I needed to demand a different surgeon and plead my case. I elected to have a bilateral mastectomy because I was completely not interested in having cancer in my house again. Side note: in the 2.5 months between the biopsy and surgery, the lesions has already grown significantly. The surgeon actually said I was "a ticking time bomb."  The past year has been a tough one, with the mastectomy and three additional surgeries to reconstruct safer alternatives 😉, repurposing my fat in the most creative ways. It has left me tired, sore, uncomfortable, sometimes unreliable, absent, and often in need of help. But it's left me LIFE. 

There have been plenty of days I have cursed cancer and pain and drugs, and counted and recounted my 37 scars...but there hasn’t been a single day I haven’t been thankful for modern medicine, and its ability to see what we cannot see. I thank God for  guiding me in this journey, for providing the assurance I needed when making this decision, for blessing mankind with a brain so marvelous that it can INVENT. I thank scientists who have dedicated their lives to finding a cure, and doctors who have dedicated theirs to pursuing the treatments that might get us closer. It's no doubt these days, cancer is everywhere. It is an ugly beast and if you let it, it can take a lot from you. But armed with knowledge, preventative measures, and a kick-ass spirit, you can put up a heck of a fight and you can protect yourself.  I beg each and every one of you women: Do not wait until tomorrow to do that which you can do today. It could literally kill you. 

Silver and Gold

There is an old scout song that starts out "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, the other is gold."  Like most women, I need good friends. The kind you can laugh with, cry with, eat chocolate with, drink wine with...the kind who know a lot about you and love you, anyway. And I need some of those friends to be where I am, physically. I have platinum-level friends that have known me practically my whole life, and I know I can call on them when I need to. But having a circle of friends - a tribe - that can actually come over or go to dinner or just pass by on a daily basis. That's what I require. 

A common exclamation around this time of year is "I don't know how you do it! It's so hard to move!" And I always remark that I'm a collector of friends. It's not easy to move, sure. It's hard to leave people that I've built relationships with. However, it makes my heart glad to know that I can travel practically anywhere in the United States, and in a lot of overseas locations, and I have a friend there. It's pretty cool to think about it that way! 

When we moved here to Arlington about 3.5 years ago, I remember being really optimistic about meeting new people. But after about six months, I just didn't feel like I was developing any real relationships at all. I was disappointed. Even a year in, I felt like I had some friendships, but they were rather superficial. But somewhere along the way, those seeds took root and grew in to oaks, and it is once-again hard to leave. At the start of this school year, I invited a few neighborhood moms/friends to come have coffee at my house on Friday mornings after we dropped the kids at school. It was the highlight of my week. Sometimes we prayed, sometimes we cried, sometimes we celebrated a birthday, sometimes we grieved a loss, most often times we laughed, and every time we loved. We watched a baby grow thru her first year. It was never anything fancy, and it was never forced. Come if you can, come as you are, and just be with people who love you. It was such a joy to have my dining room full of women I love every Friday morning. 

Today is the last day of school. Ranger and I walked the kids to Ashlawn one last time. When I got home, I was suddenly overcome with sadness, and I couldn't quite put my finger on why. It's been an emotional week of goodbyes and "lasts". Then it hit me. It was Friday morning, and my tribe wasn't here. My table was gone. My dining room was empty. My house was quiet. It wasn't the way I loved it at all. And it made me sad. But then I remembered how I felt that first year - as though I just wasn't going to be able to make any friends here. And reflecting on that now, as I hold these new friendships close, brings me hope and joy. Sometimes friendships, like wine, just have to age a little before they're really good. And now, as we leave here and head to a new area, I'll take these now "gold" friendships with me. And I'll look for some "silver" ones to add to my collection.

Thanks for the memories, Arlington, VA.

Last Day of School

After AJ's 5th Grade Promotion

A Day at the Park

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope everyone takes the time to make a list - mentally or written - of everything you have to be thankful for. I'm willing to bet it's a long list. Don't forget that!

(This is me not addressing the fact that I haven't blogged in SEVEN months)

Y'all know we got a dog, right? Ranger. He's a Texas Blue Lacey, 10 months old, and completely a turd. But we love him. We are thankful for him, even. He is comic relief every day, and a gentle reminder of my Dad. When Mom took Dad's dog, Pearl, to the breeder, she wanted nothing to do with the stud he paired her with. Instead, she showed interest in another dog - named Buster. If you're new to my life, I'll fill you in: My Dad's nickname was Buster. So, yeah, we had to have an offspring. Enter Ranger. There are lots of puppy stories between then and now, but I'll just share one from yesterday.

Our home in Arlington has zero yard. It's tough on kids and dogs. Luckily, we live just two blocks from a great park, with a great fenced-in soccer field. We have been taking Ranger to the soccer field since we can let him off the leash to be a dog and run wild for a little while. So yesterday, we bundled  up and walked down with a tennis ball for him and a football for the kids. After a few minutes of playing, the kids got warm and took their jackets off, throwing them in a pile on the ground. We continued to play, and eventually the whole family was tied up in a game of touch football. I use the term "game" very loosely. For a few minutes, Ranger was playing along. But he got bored, as puppies do, and he went to smell the rest of the field. Including the spot where the jackets were piled. Just about then, we were in between plays in our game, and I hear AJ say "I'm pretty sure Ranger just peed on our jackets", followed by Alan confirming "Yep, I think he did."  Nice.

So we made the kids jog home to stay warm.

A day in the life...Just living the dream!

Overheard...

Adam telling Grandma "I'm probably going to be an Artist when I grow up, not a professional tennis player."  Perfect.  I'll clean out the basement and keep it ready.

Anaya telling Dad at breakfast "Daddy, im going to be a cheetah when I grow up."  When Daddy explained that a cheetah was a cat, she was totally appalled at his apparent disbelief in her.  "I CAN be a cheetah when I grow up if I want to!"  Dad replies (because sometimes we can't help but argue with them) "Cheetahs are big cats.  You are a human.  You are going to be a lady like Mommy".  She replied "No, cheetahs are really fast humans"...this went on a couple of minutes and she finally just resolved to pouting because she just really wants to be a cheetah when she grows up and her dad has crushed her dream.  It's like he forgot about that cat lady in the Hunger Games.

That's all!

Dude, where's my car?

This morning, as I do every morning, I sent the kids out the door ahead of me so they could load their backpacks into the trunk while I put the dogs (we got another dog - that's for another post) in their appropriate spaces for the day.  A few minutes later, Adam returned to me asking where my car was.  See, I usually park it on the street in front of our house, but someone else was parked in my spot for a couple of days, so I parked in our driveway.  That blocked Alan, who was parked in the garage.  So he had to move my car before he could leave this morning.  I assumed he moved it to the street because that's what he would normally do.  But today my car was nowhere to be found in the street.  I headed out to have a look and, sure enough, my car was nowhere!  I was about to panic and call police when I heard a little God whisper: "Check the garage."  There she was, safe and sound.

Just another day in the life of me. Lots of people think I have my act together, but the reality is that on most days, I can't even find my car.

Top 5 Jedi

A post by A.J., our nine-year-old, who is a genuine Star Wars fan...

I have been thinking about Star Wars and I thought about the strongest Jedi.  I saw on the internet nobody agreed with me, so here's my opinion:

1.  Yoda
I think the top Jedi is Yoda because he trained thousands of Jedi and he is a master Jedi so that's why I think Yoda is the top Jedi.

2.  Obi-Wan Kenobi
I think the 2nd top Jedi is Obi-Wan because he killed General Grievous and defeated Anakin Skywalker.

 

3.  Mace Windu

I think the 3rd top Jedi is Mace Windu because he almost  killed Darth Sidious and he defeated Boba Fett. 

 

4.  Anakin Skywalker

I think the 4th top Jedi is Anakin Skywalker because he killed Count Dooku.

 

5.  Luke Skywalker

I think the 5th top Jedi is Luke Skywalker because he still needs to learn a lot.  But he can control his feelings so he won't go over to the sith.

 



Best Year Yet!

As we say "farewell" to 2015, I just wanted to document how great of a year it was.  I can say with complete honesty that this year was different than any other in how I viewed it.  Y'all know I am a "Mary Kay girl," but what you probably don't realize is how many valuable life lessons and faith lessons I have learned through that business.  It is not all face wash and lipstick, peeps. 

Last December, I sprinted full-out toward a big goal of becoming a Sales Director in Mary Kay.  While I was doing the work necessary to reach that goal, I often felt a little "mommy guilt" creeping in.  It would cause me to question my decision to leave the house in the evening or on the weekend to go hold a party or appointment.  Was I doing the right thing?  Was this "sacrifice" going to be worth it?  Were my priorities out of line, putting my business first?  I kept thinking about a story my Senior National Sales Director had told about one of her kids, which wrapped up with the lesson that sometimes (just sometimes) putting your business first is putting your family first.  So I wrapped up last December counting on it to be one of those cases.  Operating in faith.

As I sit here today and reflect, I am so incredibly glad I made the decision I made last year.  I'm so glad I pushed that guilt aside because without a doubt, putting my business first then did turn out to be a decision that allowed me to put my family first every single moment of this year.  My business not only provided a significant income source for our family every month, allowing multiple vacations and "treats" we otherwise wouldn't have been able to afford, not to mention a FREE CAR, but it has also greatly strengthened my faith, my resolve, my confidence, and my joy, which has allowed me to be a better person - a better mom, wife, and friend.  It has taught me to trust God for the big stuff, as well as the small stuff.  It has taught me to listen for His whispers and to obey them.  It has taught me that scripture applies to everything all the time, no matter what you're going through.  It has helped me to recognize every single blessing bestowed upon me - big or small.  And it has helped me to recognize when God is using me to do something so much bigger in someone else.  To me, this is so much more than a skincare company - it's a ministry.  It's my way of sharing love and making other women realize how strong and beautiful they are - how valuable they are.  It's my way of showing others how God is at work in my life and in theirs.  We can't all be in ministry careers, but we can all figure out how the career we are in can be a ministry and that is an important lesson I learned this year.  It's an important lesson I have been able to teach my kids.  And it all stemmed from that difficult decision I made last year to put my business first for just a short time.  So sometimes, putting your business first is putting your family first.

I know 2016 will be even better and will allow me to continue to share this blessing with others.  I love my life!

Have those yoga pants ever been to yoga?

This has been on my mind for a while, so I feel like it's time for a PSA.  Since we returned from living overseas, I have noticed a disturbing trend.  People (women in particular) are wearing workout clothes ALL THE TIME.  Like, when they are obviously not on their way to or from the gym.  Like with jewelry and fixed hair and makeup on.  I get the occasional day when you don't feel well or you woke up late before having to drop the kids at school, or you've spent the entire day cleaning your house, or whatever.  I'm not talking to you.  It's the others - the ones who wear workout clothes shopping, to lunch with girlfriends, traveling, to the zoo...Unless you are Jillian Michaels, please put the leggings away.  The place I've noticed it most is airports.  I get it - you like to be "comfy" when you travel, but please.  I've literally traveled around the world without having to wear workout clothes - I think you can make it from Washington D.C. to Omaha.  Jeans or a maxi dress are just as comfy and look way more put together.  Leggings are not pants, ladies!  Do yourself a favor and put something else on.  Especially if wearing those workout clothes to travel in is the only time you ever wear them. 

 

Come on!  You can do better than that! 

 

It has just rightthissecond occurred to me that the recent trend of wearing these Fitbits might lead people to think they are always working out, therefore it's OK to always wear workout clothes?  Well, you aren't and it's not.  You are literally just living life looking like a gym rat, except not really, because of the whole way gym rats look (since they actually do spend all their free time in a gym working out).  So head on over to Old Navy and buy yourself some real clothes, people!  Get your class back!

 

**End of PSA**

 

Here's a recent picture of my kiddos, for those of you who come here for that :-)  They have 19 more days of school and are super-excited to spend a big chunk of summer at Grandma's house.  Bring on summer!

 

 

 

Team Up For Women!

Eight years ago today, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.   My doctor handed me some information she had obviously printed from Google 10 mins prior, and sent me on my way with the proper referrals.  I would have never guessed on that horrible day all the blessings that would come out of that fight.  I've dedicated a lot of effort since then to raising funds to fight and raise awareness for breast cancer.  This year, I'm teaming up for women with The Mary Kay Foundation, which funds research for cancers affecting women and helps prevent domestic violence while raising awareness on these issues.  I will personally donate 35% of all orders placed with me between now and May 12th to the MKF.  I appreciate any support you can give and know it will help women who need it!  Place your order today to help fight cancer!  I can't wait to see what we can do when we work together!  The bonus is you also get your fabulous skincare and color products while helping other women simultaneously!  Shop here: www.marykay.com/avdayton.   You can also read about the Mary Kay Foundation here: www.marykayfoundation.org.

We Are Here

Today, as I was pushing a double-wide shopping cart around BJ's, I started to feel a little bit...I don't know...confused.  I knew what I was putting in the cart, but I couldn't believe it.  I wasn't expecting it to happen this soon.  I mean, when did we arrive here:

?

 

That's 48 rolls of toilet paper, folks.  48.  And 12 rolls of paper towels.  Because somewhere along the way, this happened:

 

 

My babies grew up a little.  A lot, actually.  And it turns out, as kids get bigger, they use more toilet paper.  I really didn't think about that before.  I thought about having to buy more food and needing a wholesale warehouse to keep my cereal and bread and milk stocked.  But not for buying 48 rolls of toilet paper.  Turns out it happens that way. 

 

Happy Monday!  If you run out of TP, I'm your gal.  Or, if you want to throw some around somebody's bushes and trees, I'll help then, too. 

 

  

 

In The (Pink) Tunnel

Have I really not written anything since September??  Sorry about that...I have a great excuse!  Remember at the end of my last post, when I announced that I was being promoted in my Mary Kay business?  I was choosing to promote myself, that is, because that's the way the wonderful world of Mary Kay works!  Well, that's why I haven't written lately!  I have spent the past nearly-4 months in a pink tunnel, working my Mary Kay business as much as I can, fitting it in to my schedule wherever I can, and allowing it to bless me beyond belief.  I am not kidding.  When I say "bless" I am not talking about financially, either.  Although it has definitely done that.  I am talking about blessing my heart and soul.  This Mary Kay business has been the reason that I have met some of the most amazing women and have gotten to know better some of the amazing women already in my life.  Furthermore, I have witnessed this business enrich their lives in many different ways.  Whether it's self-confidence, financial freedom, quality girlfriend time, or a number of other reasons, it is so fun for me to watch them grow and blossom in so many ways.  It really does remind me of why I got into this business in the beginning.  It is about so much more than selling lipstick.  So that's where I've been lately - in the pink tunnel.  If it hasn't had something to do with my family or Mary Kay, then it's been skipped.  It's been so much fun and so totally worth every minute!  By the end of the year, I will be a Mary Kay Sales Director!  I will have the honor and pleasure of training other new Beauty Consultants!  Then, by the end of February, I will have earned my first Mary Kay career car!  SERIOUSLY!!  What rewards they give for sharing this business!  And I am ginormously indebted to my husband and family for their support and faith in this journey.  It is not even close to being over - there is still much work to be done - but they have believed in me and taken on many extra duties to support me in achieving this.  I am so grateful to them. 

I will continue on in the pink tunnel until the initial phase of this promotion ends on December 31st.  Until then, I am looking for about 5-7 more team members.  Women who are looking to start something new before 2015.  Women who want to add just a little extra something to their life.  Women who keep their word and are excited to take advantage of a fabulous opportunity.  $100 might change your life - isn't it worth it to listen to the opportunity and see how it might fit into your life?  Please email me at avdayton@marykay.com if you have even the tiniest hint of interest.  You just might be surprised to hear the whole story and see the whole picture.  Why not gift yourself this Christmas with a new you, a wonderful opportunity, a life-changing gift?  You deserve it!

Merry Christmas! 

Clicking My Heels...

First, school started back on Tuesday.  Third grade and Pre-K.

Second, I STARTED A J.O.B. ON TUESDAY.  What?!?  I know!!  Working as the Asst. Director at the twins' preschool.  Being a Mary Kay Beauty Consultant is still a huge priority and I'm focusing on it more and more (see below), but the preschool job was an amazing opportunity to serve God thru my awesome church, educating children and sharing God's love with them.

Third, Adam has gotten the pick-up situation at school wrong 2 out of 3 days.  It's not generally this confusing, so hopefully we can figure that out.

Fourth, it has been in the 90s all week and my air conditioner stopped working yesterday morning.  And I couldn't get anyone to repair it until my landlord gave permission, which didn't happen until after he got off work yesterday.  So no one came to fix it until the least convenient time, right before I completely melted, which was about an hour ago.

Fifth, we received another speeding ticket from Germany in the mail yesterday.  That makes 2 so far.

Sixth, our dentist sent us a bill for $315 because they submitted the wrong date of birth for Audie and Tricare rejected the claim because Alan isn't covered (both officially "William").  Apparently neither place could figure out on their own that the one with the PEDIATRIC date of birth should be the one claiming services at the PEDIATRIC DENTIST. 

Seventh, one child pooped their pants today at the same time as the A/C repairman was here because apparently playing the Wii is just that exciting.  Then, in an effort to clean it up themselves (bless their heart, really), they ended up piling toilet paper into the toilet so that it was eventually completely filled.  Just completely awesome, really.  No, really.  Have more kids because it's awesome.

It isn't Friday yet.  Unless you're in Okinawa.  Which is about where I wish I was.  I'd love to close my eyes and slip on Dorothy's slippers right about now.


In other (better) news...I have decided to take the next step (quantum leap, really) in my Mary Kay business!  So, if you have it in you to buy a lip gloss or cleanser, I could use your support!  Even better - if you are a smart, busy woman looking to be your own boss, then I can get you there!  Or maybe it isn't you - maybe you know someone who would be great at this!  Maybe you know someone who could use a pampering facial or a special gift!  Let me know - even if they aren't in my area, I can work out a way to make them feel beautiful!  www.marykay.com/avdayton for shopping and contact info!!

Just In Case I Thought I Was A "Professional"

photo credit

 

In case you somehow didn't know, I am a Mary Kay Independent Beauty Consultant (SHOP HERE!).  I have been one for over 10 years - in fact, I'll celebrate my 11th anniversary this August.  But I haven't always worked the business very consistently.  I love that about my Mary Kay business - I can work it when I want and put it on the shelf when I'm overwhelmed with other aspects of my life, or just focusing on other things.  Then, when I'm ready, it's there again!  It's fantastic and flexible.  Anyway, I'm choosing to work it more consistently than ever right now and it's been very beneficial for our family.  I started to consider myself a "professional" again.  I get dressed every day, instead of always wearing workout gear.  I always put on makeup so that no one would get all judgy if I approached them in public claiming to sell makeup, while looking like a mother of three who hadn't slept well in eight years (yep, Mary Kay covers that up).  I am going way out of my comfort zone, approaching strangers in the Target cosmetic aisles about my business.  I have been sharing the Mary Kay opportunity with anyone who will listen, in an attempt to both grow my team and enrich the lives of other women.  In those attempts, my team has tripled over the course of the past two months.  Awesome, right?  I almost sound like a professional, right?  Well, one of those new team members, we'll call her Jamie because I don't have her permission to use her real name, was ready to place her first order yesterday so I stopped by her house on the way home from the pool with the kids.  I was dressed nicely, even though we'd just left the pool, and still had on makeup.  Totally looked the part - not that I had to - Jamie is my pastor's wife and she is a mom who totally gets that sometimes we have on workout gear and look like moms who haven't slept well in ages.  But I try my best when I'm "working" to be professional.  So I helped her with her order while my kids played with her kids, and just as we were about to wrap up Anaya started yelling for me.  I responded that I couldn't come right now, but she insisted that she "needed" me, so I followed her voice to the bathroom.  Where I was immediately knocked down by the unmistakable smell of poop.  As I took in the situation, she told me "I didn't know I had to go potty," and pointed to her underwear.  Which were full of poop.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  Luckily, Jamie was able to finish her order without me while I cleaned up the mess and, with much embarrassment, asked to borrow a pair of shorts for my daughter.  I know without a doubt that Jamie didn't judge me, but that doesn't change the fact that I was mortified.  As we drove the couple of blocks home, I realized the irony of the situation.  Sometimes you think you're a professional...and then your kid shits their pants and makes you remember that no matter how professional you become, you still have to clean up crap.

 

 



Gone...er...Fishing?

A few weeks ago, Alan decided it would be fun to take the kids fishing.  He tends to have fantastically optimistic visions of our children's behavior.  It's cute.  So, we're going fishing.

Step 1: We're going to need a few new fishing rods.  So we head to the nearest Walmart (which, thank God, is about 25 minutes away).  I had read that a new one opened nearby so we headed over there.  It looked like this:

 

I call it the "Big City Walmart".  It's in a multi-level building, next to a 24-hr fitness and a larger office building.  When we pulled up, the parking lot had a gate and Alan was all, "Oh, hell no!  We better not have to pay to park at Walmart!"  We did not have to pay, but we were the only pickup truck in the parking lot and we had to take up two spots.  I'm pretty sure they're breaking some sort of "Walmart Law" that says all their parking lots must easily accommodate pickup trucks.  Walmart is Walmart, after all.  Can't put lipstick on that pig.  Anyway, we chose some adequately-priced-for-kids fishing rods and headed out. 

 

Step 2: We are going to need some worms.  A few weeks prior, we had planted some seeds in a flower bed and noticed tons of nice, fat worms, so we head home and put the kids to work digging up worms:

 

 

Step 3: Go to Dick's to buy worms:

 

Step 4: Find the perfect spot:

 

 

Step 5: Find a different perfect spot than the one we had in mind:

 

Step 6: Bait the hooks and cast!

 

 

Step 7: Fix the cheap-ass reel from the stupid big-city Walmart and re-cast:

 



 

Step 8: Wait for the fish to bite:

 

 

 

Step 9: Cut the hook out of the tree:

 

Step 10: Give the kids a break and a snack.  They've been fishing a whole 1/6 hour.

 

Step 11: Cut the hook out of the tree:

 

Step 12: Do the hokey pokey:

 

 

 

Step 13: Call it a day:

 

 

No fish were harmed in this outing.  But plenty were fed.