Monday, June 7, 2010

Introducing....


Baby Bean 4.0


Today was our first midwife appointment. (Yes, I know, it seems really late for a first appointment)

We saw our bundle of joy dancing around...(s)he even waved once or twice. We also saw and heard the heartbeat.

Excitement is finally starting to settle in here in Neverland.

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In other news. The house has been very quiet the last couple of days.

Our two oldest are spending the week with their Nana and Papa. After 7:30, Micheal is asleep and Mr. Darling and I stare at each other and wonder why there is no pitter-patter of little feet, no hushed calls for more water, no sounds of imaginary ninja fights in the place off sleepy, heavy breathing.

The mornings are much calmer. Micheal and I sit down to have breakfast at our leisure. No demands for cereal, or more cereal, or juice, or milk. Just the two of us sharing a bowl of cereal. (I finally got Wendy to stop insisting on having every other bite of my breakfast... and not two months later, Micheal has started... ah well.) It's no so bad when you know you have to share... you just fix an extra big bowl. :)

I do have to say, though, the rest of the day is almost more stressful. Michael does not know how to be an only child. The kid is Bored. To. Death. He does not know how to play by himself. And here I thought I would get so much done around the house with only one child at home. NOT SO! I have to entertain him constantly. I was unaware of how much my older two actually played with their baby brother. SWEETNESS!

I miss my babies. (And not just because I need help on the entertainment front.)

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Mission Accomplished

We finally did it.

Micheal plus ear tubes (bright and early this morning) equals a much happier toddler...hopefully. I let you know if a few days. Mommy was a bit nervous, but Micheal didn't really seem bothered at all. (Which is nice.)

He was a bit fussy on the ride home, but I'm pretty sure that was because his brother and sister weren't there to entertain him.

In all honesty, the most difficult part of today was deciding whether or not the 30 minutes he was asleep due to anesthesia counted for his morning nap.

(And if that was the worst part.... thank God for that!)

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Catastrophe Avoided.... This Time.

As we get out of the car this evening, Wendy looks at me with these terrified eyes. I asked her what was wrong and she whispers ever so quietly,

"I choked my quarter!"

You choked on a quarter? What quarter? I looked at my husband curiously. Apparently he had given her a quarter size medal that had come in some junk mail.

"Where is the quarter now?" I question.

She points to her mouth.... "In my belly"

"Did you swallow it?"

She nods and whispers a terrified yes, fearing she is going to be in trouble.... and I admit I shrugged it off. She wasn't choking, she was talking, she seemed fine. So I was about to go on my merry way.... until I noticed that, apparently, I should have been more concerned. My husband is looking all over the car to make sure she didn't just drop it. By the time I get inside the house he is on the phone with his brother (the doctor) who thinks, yes, we should call her pediatrician. A penny or nickle, meh; but a quarter is pretty big for a two year old. So we call the answering service, get prepared to go to the ER and wait for her doctor to call us back.

Thankfully, the pediatrician calms Mr. Darling down and tells him that if we are really concerned, we can bring her in in the morning... as long as she is breathing fine, there is no need to be overly concerned.

So, we sit down for dinner. Mr. Darling still seems a bit concerned, maybe feeling a tiny bit guilty, but everything seems fine.

After dinner, Wendy and John take off chasing after each other... and then I hear it. Clink... clink, clink!!!

"What was that!" I jump up and run around the corner, and there she is....

Smiling up at me holding a shiny piece of medal.

"I'm not choking my quarter no more!"

Either that girl's intestines are extremely efficient or that stupid coin was lost somewhere down her dress. Either way... everyone will be sleeping better tonight.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

I Think he Knows....

This morning, John walks in on me as I am finishing up in the bathroom. (Not an unusual occurrence.) His first reaction...

"Momma, let me see your belly again... lift up your shirt!"

I slowly do as I am told, eying him suspiciously.

"Mom, " he says in all seriousness, "Your belly looks really big and round... I think you have a baby in there, I'm not kidding. I think there is a baby in your belly. I just think you need to know that!"

I kinda laugh at him and change the subject. (We haven't gotten around to telling the kids because, we haven't told any of the family...and little ones tend to have big mouths.)

Later this afternoon, again he orders me to lift my shirt.

"Momma, I'm telling you, there is a baby in your belly! Yep, there sure is... I just thought you should know!"

I think he's on to us....

I guess we should probably tell our parents before our four year old does.

Monday, May 24, 2010

We're so Selfish....

Last night we invited a Priest friend of my husband over to watch Lost with us. John, who is four, is fascinated with Priests. He can also talk more than any other child I know, so we prepared him a little before hand.

My husband told him that Daddy was having a friend over and was coming to talk with Daddy, not to play with John. We told John that he could show the Priest his room and hang out with us quietly for a bit before bed, but other than that he needed to remember that this was Daddy's friend and he had come to spend time with Daddy.

Once the Priest arrived, we set John up in the computer room and let him watch a DVD on the computer, while we all plopped down in from of the TV to watch all the pre-"stuff" that came on prior to the last episode of Lost.

Literally within seconds, and every five minutes thereafter, John came in the room to ask the Priest a very pressing question or to show him something critically important. It was extremely cute and endearing, but since John can talk and talk and talk (and talk and talk), we let him know that he needed to go back and finish watching his show and stop coming in.

Finally bed time arrived. As I am tucking him in he looks up at me with these sad, pitiful eyes and says, "You and daddy are so selfish. You've been playing with Father all night long and I haven't gotten to play with him at all. You guys are being so selfish!"

Point taken kiddo.

So we let him stay up an extra 10 minutes and "play" with his new friend. Thankfully, the Good Father was willing to play along! (Of course, the fact that we had a DVR was also a big help.)

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

To Tube or not to Tube

Friday, Micheal had his first Birthday. Today, we finally decided he needs tubes in his ears. Happy birthday, kiddo!

We've been putting it off for months now, but I think it is time. The poor child has been on antibiotics almost constantly for the last four months (and I am not a huge fan of antibiotics in abundance). We hoped that once the warmer weather arrived the ear infections would disappear. No such luck!

I have to say I am a bit nervous. We made it to the two year mark with the first two kids and the infections all but disappeared. So this is our first go with tubes. While we've already made the appointment, I'm still not sure I want to go through with it.

Any advice out there in the blogosphere?

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Yesterday Was Plain Awful

My life is not going in the direction I had hoped... at least, not this week. Simply put, this has been a bad week.

I have been a bad mother, a bad wife, and pretty much a bad person in general. (At least that is how I see it... my husband disagrees, but that is because he has too.... a form of self preservation or something.)

I yelled at my kids...and then felt guilty, I hid from my screaming baby because no matter what I tried, I couldn't get him to stop crying...and then I felt guilty. I listened to my four year old yell at my two year old, and heard my voice in his...and then I felt guilty. (What am I teaching my kids?)

I fled to my closet, with the baby standing outside the door crying...and then I cried too.

I opened the door, gathered my cherub in my arms and we cried together.

It wasn't just tears streaming down my face, it was gigantic, horrific sobs. Sobs I hoped my older kid couldn't hear in fear it would terrify them.

Then I did it. I finally asked God what I have been thinking for the last two months.

"What are you doing Lord?"
"Don't you see I'm a terrible mother?"
"Why would you think I could handle another."
"I've already ruined the ones you've given me, why let me scar another?"

You see, we're going to have another baby. He isn't a baby we planned for; however, he is a baby we've always said we would welcome with open arms if he ever showed up. I'm just having trouble understanding why God would think now is the right time for this baby to show up?

...And now, I feel guilty.

Because there are woman out there, couples out there, that yearn beyond belief for what I have. There are moms and dads who have waited year after year after year for a baby to hold in their arms. They are the ones who have the right to hide in closets and crying tears of anguish. But me? I've been given a blessing...four of them. What right do I have to wallow? Seriously?!!

...And still, I feel guilty.

Because I haven't felt that excitement yet. I haven't experience that joy. The excitement and joy I felt with the first three.

...And because of that, I'm scared.

Because, what if I don't deserve this baby... what if he's taken away? Even though I'm not overly excited about this child...yet, I would be devastated if I lost him.

--------------------------------

So as you can see, I've pretty much lost my mind. If you read this far, thanks for letting me vent. I have a feeling, tomorrow will be a better.

UPDATE:

Today, I laughed with my kids... and felt joy
Today, I read to my kids... and felt happiness
Today, I sang with my kids... and felt delight.
Today, we discussed names for our precious little one... and I felt a tiny twinge of excitement.

Progress!

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Feeling Very Blessed this Week...

We just got back from a trip to Branson MO.

We rented a big house and had my dad and all his siblings drive up to celebrate my dad turning the big 6 - 0.

We had a wonderful time just hanging out with our family... cooked a load of food, fooled around with the Wii and played a bit of poker. (My devoutly Baptist mother would like me to clarify that no money exchanged hands during the poker playing.) All in all, we had tons of fun.

We didn't have a lot planned because we had spent the majority of our vacation fund on a house big enough to hold all of our extended family.

We did know we were going to go to Silver Dollar City and after that, we would just play it by ear.

We also knew Silver Dollar City was going to cost our family a little over $150, plus food... but then our first small blessing happened.

A couple walked up to us and said they had guest passes that were about to expire, they were looking for a big family who they knew would have to pay big money to get in and they spotted us. We were quite taken aback, but graciously accepted.

We all got into Silver Dollar City for 30 dollars!!!

Later, my aunt and uncle wanted to thank us for renting the house. So they took us out for dinner and a show. (Yet another blessing we hadn't planned on, but for which we were exceedingly thankful.)

There were other small blessing all throughout the week. But the biggest, of course, was just getting to celebrate with my dad.

I've always been blessed with the best dad a girl could ever want.

He never missed a game, never forgot to say I love you and never withheld the discipline when it was truly needed. He was and is an amazing father... and now, he is an even more amazing grandfather. My kids are so blessed!

LOVE YA DADDY!


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And if all that wasn't enough. Today a good friend calls to ask me if I have an iPod. I briefly tell her that I did at one time, but it has been misplaced... possibly flushed down the toilet by our resident toilet fanatic.

She then proceeds to tell me that she bought an Ipod about a month ago, but just last week splurged on a iPhone and now has no use for it.

I will be receiving my new Ipod Touch in the mail in the very near future.

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Minus the "best father in the world" spiel, most of this is purely materialistic stuff that doesn't matter in the least.... but never-the-less, I am feeling blessed this week.

God is good!

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Why do I bother?

I've decided that it might not be worth it to sweep and mop the floor.

Last week I cleaned the kitchen floor and not 10 minutes later the kids dumped an entire box of Cheerios all over it.

Yesterday, I cleaned the floor again and, I kid you not, 2 minutes after putting away the mop, John spilled an entire glass of orange juice onto it.

Come on kids... Help a mom out!


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In other news, my kids are awesome! They make me laugh constantly.

Example one: Four year old John jumps out of the car and trips a little on the way down. He looks up at me in utmost seriousness, "If I had fallen I would have broke my cranium!" (Well, we certainly don't want to hurt that little brain of yours.)

Example two: Two year old Wendy is in love with princesses. She always has to wear a princess dress or wear her princess shoes. Yesterday, she is sitting in my lap, looks up and proclaims, "I'm a pretty pretty princess. I love my face so much... and my nose." (At least we haven't developed any self esteem problems yet.)

My kids constantly bring joy to my life... even with the messy floors!

Saturday, April 24, 2010

One of my favorite stories to tell...

How I met my husband... Part IV

(Part I)
(Part II)
(Part III)

I arrived in Hawaii ready to meet the man I'd been falling in love with over the past two weeks. My friend, Amy, picked me up at the airport with some bad news. Mr. Darling had duty that night, which meant he will be spending the night on his submarine. But on the positive side, He had invited me to have dinner with him on the sub. Officers have 3 to 4 course meals served everyday in the wardroom, and he wanted me to join him.

Amy knew where she was going so she walked me to the sub. As we walked down the pier, I was holding the new baby. Once we got closer, Amy offered to take the baby so I could have my arms empty. I refused to hand over the child. I needed a barrier... just in case.

But as we rounded the corner... I saw him. He was standing there in his blue poopysuit (cover-alls) holding a single red rose. As soon as I saw him, I tossed the baby over, gave a shy smile, and then a tiny little hug.

(I was nervous about the rules. I knew there was certain things he could not do while in uniform, but I had no idea what those certain things were. So, the biggest thing I remember about our first (second) meeting was being horribly worried about getting him in trouble.)

Mr. Darling escorted me onto the sub where they announced over the speaker, "There will be lady visitors on board until further notice." (Why, thank you! Now the men will be on their very best behavior... you know, since a female is present and all.)

The first thing we did was sit down for dinner. I remember the chairs being super heavy. It took me forever to scoot my chair up. (Maybe, he should have done that for me.) Why do I remember that, you ask? Oh, because I freaking pop a finger nail off trying to move the dang thing. I spent big money on those suckers and lost one in the first five minutes. I spent the rest of the night trying to hide that particular finger. (I wonder if the cleaning crew ever figured out what that thing was when they found it, if they found it...I looked all over and never found the stupid thing.)

Dinner was amazing. Then on to the tour. I saw the torpedo room and the periscope. I got to see where Mr. Darling stands to "drive the boat." Of course, I was not welcome to see any of the real cool stuff, but that's okay, because I did get to see how they flush the toilets and that was just crazy!

I saw his rack in his stateroom, that was shared with three other officers. And we may or may not have shared our first kiss in that same stateroom. I cannot say for sure. No, in fact, it couldn't have been there, because that would have gotten him in BIG trouble!

Finally, we spent the rest of the evening watching a movie in the wardroom, Punch Drunk Love with Adam Sandler. Cool little tidbit about the Navy: They get access to movies before the rest of the world. They're just in a weird format. This lets the men and women in the military get to watch recently released movies without having to go to the theater. Pretty helpful if you are in the middle of an ocean somewhere.

So our first date was dinner and a movie aboard the USS [edit] (Mr. Darling says that is too much information. ) Redo: So our first date was dinner and a movie aboard Mr. Darling's submarine.

The next few days were spent seeing Oahu. We went snorkling at Hanauma bay, enoyed the Honolulu zoo, visited one of those amazing Hawaii waterfalls (that, had it not been so crowded, we could have gone swimming underneath.) And then he took me to to Kaneohe, (because that is where he lived) I find out later, he has been carrying around my engagement ring the entire time... and when I say carrying, I mean it was TIED TO HIS BOARD SHORTS! Sweetheart, I love you, but seriously, it was tied to your board shorts??? His reasoning, "I'm in the navy, I know how to tie knots!" Nevertheless, it was an amazing few days.

Apparently, he had also been conversing with Amy. Everyday, he would ask her if I would say yes if he proposed.

She would say, "Not yet, She's not ready yet!"

Then New Year's Eve rolled around. Mr. Darling planned a romantic night up on a hill that overlooks three different bays. Each bay was going to have its own fireworks show. So, we could see them all from up on this hill. Little to my knowledge, Mr. Darling was going rogue. It was do or die, he was going to pop the question, if I said no, or that I wasn't ready, he was done. Everything was set to go until about 15 minutes before we left, then Amy gets a call... she is crying as she hangs up. James's tour had been extended and her husband would not be coming home for another 4 months. Well, I couldn't just leave her there crying, so I invited her to come along. (Poor Mr. Darling...It's not like three's a crowd on the night you are going to propose, right?)

We bring a blanket and sit down to watch the fireworks. Mr. Darling pulls me off for some privacy and we kiss a bit under all the flashing lights. He starts to say something, but at just that moment, I look over and see Amy sitting there so sad. So I drag him back over the blanket to put my arm around her. (He frustratingly follows... I mean, there is nothing like trying to propose when the dang girl won't stay in one place long enough to get the question out.) Now, we are sitting there, Mr. Darling and I holding hand, watching the fireworks and then I remember something I needed to tell Amy. I go into this long diatribe when suddenly she puts her hand up, stops me and then slowly points to Ryan. I turn to look wondering what in the world could warrant such an action... And THERE HE IS... underneath a gazillion fireworks, on one knee, holding a tiny little box. To this day, I have no idea what he said... All I remember was time stood still as I tried desperately to figure out what my answer should be. This was a life changing moment. I didn't want to say Yes, just to change my mind later. I didn't want to say no, because I seriously loved this guy. But SERIOUSLY, we had only talked to two weeks. You can't get engaged after two weeks. This is CRAZY! Then, he is there staring at me, waiting, needing an answer. I can barely squeak out, "o'tay." That's right I said o'tay, not yes, not even okay. I had resorted to baby talk. I was scared to death.

And then it was over. It made perfect sense. It was exactly what I wanted.

I loved him, I wanted to be with him, it was perfect!

So two months later, over my spring break, I flew back out and we were married at the Justice of the Peace. (Our little secret!) Mr. Darling was set to deploy and we wanted to be married before he left. We would eventually have a church wedding almost exactly one year later. His deployment gave us even more opportunity to communicate. All we had was email and an occasional phone call.* We learned so much about each other that year. I often wonder if our marriage would be different if we hadn't had that year. We don't fight much, but we had one or two little squabbles early on, when we did, we would resort to letters to resolve our issues. He would type something on the computer and leave it for me to find. I would do the same. It worked for us. We're weird I know.

But we have an amazing marriage... 7 years and 3 kids later and we are still going strong.

*I did try and actually see him once while he was deployed. I flew half way across the world to a little island in the middle of the Indian ocean. The sub was suppose to pull into Seychelles, and I, never having left the US before, went to meet him there. But, he stood me up and never showed... that, however, is another story.


(I do have one final chapter to our story, but it is more religious oriented. The God behind the story...coming soon.)

Friday, April 23, 2010

One of my favorite stories to tell...

How I met my husband... Part III

(Part I )
(Part II)

Now Mr. Darling is having random thoughts of marrying me. I'm hearing voices saying I should marry him. However, at that moment we were each still thinking the other was pretty much a loser.

But by this point, my curiously has gotten to me. I start asking Amy questions.

ME: "So...what's he like? What's he looking for in a woman?" (He, apparently, also started asking her about me.)

HER: "He wants an educated woman who would rather stay at home and raise his children."

ME: "Sweet! I have my Masters Degree and have zero desire to use it!"

(All I've ever really wanted was a family. That's convenient, no?)

Three days later, Amy calls and says, "Mr. Darling thinks the two of you should get married." I half-joking say ok and I continue my barrage of half-joking questions.

The next day she calls back.

HER: "He's serious about the marriage thing, are you?"

I am a little taken aback. "Maybe I'm serious???"

So now things are a bit more earnest. For the next several days, our phone conversations are something like this, "Ask him what he thinks about this," and, "Ask him how he feels about that." Then it's her turn: "He wants to know what you think about this," and "He wants to know how you feel about that."

Finally she decides that we should quit being twelve and she should just put him on the phone. As I am yelling, "No NO NO, I don't want to talk to him," she hands the phone over and we end up talking for the next three hours.

The next morning Amy calls to tell me Mr. Darling wants me to fly out and see him. I figure: Why not? Maybe over the summer. No, that was not good enough. He wanted me to come for New Year's Eve, and he was paying. She was just calling to verify out of which airport I wanted to fly. I, again, am a little unnerved, but I figure, "Hey, it's a freaking free trip to Hawaii and if things go terribly bad, I'll hang out with my best friend. It's a win win."

(Did I mention New Year's is 2 weeks away?)

Over the next two weeks. Mr. Darling and I talk every night for two to four hours, depending on how long the poor guy can hold the phone up to his ear. We talked about everything, we asked questions, we got to know one another extremely well, we laughed, we were, without even realizing it, falling in love. We wondered if it was possible to miss someone you had never really been around? And the best part was, we didn't have that awkward dating period where you had to be on your best behavior and stressed out about what you should or shouldn't do. There were no weird physical moments. Should I kiss him, should we hold hand? It just wasn't an option. We learned everything we needed to know about each other without any awkward situations. (Of course to this day, we both claim, had we ever actually dated, it would have never worked out. It would have been the little things that seriously do not matter in the big scheme of things, but would have annoyed the crap out of each of us had we been dating.)

By the time I got to Hawaii I was head over heels for this guy. And he had already bought the ring!

(Can I just say, he went ring shopping with my very best friend and she totally threw me under the bus. He was going to buy me a Tiffany's ring and she told him I "wasn't that kind of girl." UH, EXCUSE ME? Hello? Help a girl out. It was TIFFANY'S!!! Apparently because I never had any brand name or designer anything, she always thought I simply didn't want it. Okay... just because I couldn't afford it does not mean I wouldn't have liked it! But anyway, after convincing him I would never in a million years want a Tiffany ring, he went and had a ring made especially for me, and it is beautiful... even if it isn't Tiffany's...)

Man, I am long winded... Stay tuned for Part IV - My arrival in Hawaii and our first date... on his Submarine!

Thursday, April 22, 2010

One of my favorite stories to tell...

How I met my husband... Part II

(Part I)

Where did I leave off? Oh yes! The future Mr. and Mrs. Darling loathed one another.

Fast forward another 3 months and it is time for my friend Amy to delivery her baby boy. Being the naturalist that she is, the plan was for her to labor in the Aquadoula (a giant inflatable bathtub) until time to deliver; then Mr. Darling would load her up and zoom over to the hospital just in time for the midwife to catch the baby.

Mr. Darling was game. He had gone to the Bradley birthing classes and, hey, they were watching Lord of the Rings II, so what could be more fun? I called every couple of hours to check on her and I figure it was getting close, so I called once more.

This time, Mr. Darling answered. The conversation, I mean monologue, went something like this...

"Hi, um, she can't talk, uh, like before, I think, um, she's gonna have the baby. Uh, I think she's fine. I think... I have to go... I need to call the midwife.... stammer stammer stammer..." CLICK!

Of course, I hang up the phone and start laughing hysterically at the poor guy. I mean, it isn't his wife, or his baby for that matter.... and he was FREAKING OUT!

HYSTERICAL!

(Okay, and just for about half a second, I actually had a nice thought about the guy... then I remembered he was a jerk... so I laughed at him some more.)

They arrived at the hospital in time, delivered a healthy baby boy, and life continued on.

Let's fast forward once again, but just a month this time. It's mid December, Amy and the kids are doing fine. Mr. Darling is still coming over regularly to do some honey-do stuff, make sure everyone is okay and (more than likely) get a home cooked meal. Me, I am back on the mainland going about my life. (And, of course, calling Amy every night to make sure she's okay.)

(Okay, here comes the weird part... please don't think I'm crazy.)

One night out of the blue, I end my nightly call with Amy, lie down, just about asleep, and I hear a voice. I am not sure if it was actually audible, but it was very clear, "He's the one" I immediately sit up and laugh out loud. Why I assumed the "He" was Mr. Darling, I don't know. But it was...and he was a jerk...so there was no way that "He" was the one.

The very next night, it happened again. "He's the one!" Now, I'm kinda getting freaked out. I'm hearing voices for goodness sake.

So, the next night I confide to Amy, "You wanna hear the stupidest thing in the entire world?" I proceed to tell her about the voice. She gets really quiet and doesn't say much... then changes the subject entirely. Odd. We finished our conversation, say good bye and hang up. But just a few minutes later she calls back, "I need to tell you something." Apparently the night before, Mr. Darling came over for dinner and out of the blue says, "Wouldn't it be weird if Mrs. Darling and I ending up married?"

Silence

Why on God's green Earth would two people who absolutely abhor each other randomly decide they are suppose to be married?

CREEPY!

(Apparently, you will now have to wait until Part III for the falling in love part. Coming Soon!)

I had no idea this story was so long. :)

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

One of my favorite stories to tell...

How I met my husband...

The first time Mr. Darling and I met was at my best friend's wedding.... and he was the biggest JERK I had ever met!

There is a lot to that part of the story that we won't get into... lets just say we were fresh out of college, possibly had a little too much to drink that weekend, and, okay I"ll admit it, a little immature.

Oh, and there was that whole, we were suppose to be "set up" misunderstanding that started it all, but that is beside the point.

Okay fine, I'll tell you... basically I had never been "set up" before and I thought there was suppose to be some kind of formal statement on the matter. Since there wasn't, I assumed he wasn't interested - that he had given the secret signal - and the whole thing had been called off. Since we were at a little party anyway, I went on my way and started flirting with some one else. Apparently, that made me the biggest WITCH he had ever met. It was just a simple misunderstanding.

The weekend went downhill from there. He was hitting on my engaged friend who was too drunk to remember she was engaged. I however, did remember and made it very clear he should leave her alone, but she she didn't seem to mind, and since he was getting nowhere with me, he had no desire to stop. I said some horrible things, he said some horrible things... Let's just say, it was bad. (Oh, and there may or may not have been skinny dipping that night. I don't know. It's all kind of fuzzy.)

Fast forward three years. My best friend Amy and her husband James move to Hawaii at the request of the Navy. Did I mention that Mr. Darling was roommates with James in college? (Which is why he was in the wedding three years before.) When Amy and James arrived in Hawaii she was 6 months pregnant, and James would be shipping out to the Gulf for what we end up being 10 months. It just so happened that Mr. Darling, also in the Navy, was already stationed in Hawaii. As he was the only person they knew, James recruited him to look after his wife and 16 month old daughter. (He would eventually be Amy's birth partner for the birth of James and Amy's son, 3 months later.)

When Amy told me Mr. Darling would be hanging around, the first thing out of my mouth was, "I cannot believe you are going to let that boy around your daughter!" She claimed since she had no other options, I needed to be supportive. So I tried not to say anything too negative about the jerk.

One day I called to check on her and he was there. I half-jokingly said, "Well, you can tell him that I certainly do NOT say hi!" She generously relayed the message without the half-jokingly tone and he immediately responding with, "Tell her to kiss my ass!" My immediate reactions, "See, I told you he was a jerk... he's still a JERK!

Obviously, our feeling for each other had not changed much... after three years there was still a profound hatred between us.

Can you believe we would be married less than 6 months later...?

Stayed tuned for Part II. (How we went from the aforementioned hatred, to head over heels in love... in less than 2 week.)

Monday, April 19, 2010

A Query...

On the way home from a birthday party yesterday, I asked John what kind of birthday cake he would like for his birthday. (Which is still a few months away.)

His answer:

"I want a blackberry cake. I want it to look like a blackberry, taste like a blackberry and have blackberries all over it."

I have to say, I am at a lost. Should I just put a candle in a giant bowl of blackberries?

Help me out here.... Any ideas?

Saturday, April 17, 2010

The Apocalypse (my week in random)

The last couple of weeks have been CRAZY!!!

We have had had double ear infections, three cases of pink eye and some kind of horrible ear thing for poor Mr. Darling. About a year ago, in a moment of possible insanity, I went and bought my very on otoscope (the ear light thingy that doctors use) so that I don't have to take the kids to the doctor every time I suspect an ear infection. I can just take a peak and "mostly" know. Hubby asked if I wanted to take a look in his ear.

OH MY LORD!!! NASTY!!!! I have no idea what I was even looking at... all I know is that it was not in ANY WAY normal. (I would describe it, but I don't want anyone to throw up in their mouths just a little bit.)

And, of course, since he is a man, he will not go to the doctor. So here is to hoping my husband can still hear in a couple of days.

So after a week of eye drops and antibiotics and husbands (well, one husband) working past 10:00 PM three of the last five nights, I am exhausted.

Did I mention, we've been shopping for mini-vans all week? I hate car salesmen. Seriously, people... I am well aware of how much money I have and what I can afford. It doesn't matter how cool the options are in that vehicle.... and yes, I would LOVE to have it and YES, I do WANT it... but again... since it is 15 grand more than I can possibly spend (which I've told you at least 8 times in the last 4 minutes), please stop trying to convince me I want it. I have THREE KIDS UNDER 5 with me at a car dealership! Try selling me something I can legitimately, actually buy! [/End Rant]

In conclusion, I've had a hectic week. Thank God for the weekend. (Oh, and Carmax, which has no haggle pricing and every vehicle listed on their website... Woohoo! Car shopping from the comfort of my couch!)

Now, I must go watch Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, because it's my favorite show ever and it makes me happy. Have a nice night!

Friday, April 2, 2010

The Mind of a Four-year Old

Me: John, would you like to try some chocolate Mousse?

John: (with a bit of excitement in his voice) Is it made out of moose?

Me: No, it's kind of like pudding.

John: (annoyed) Well, then why in the world would they call it moose?


Overheard at the pet store:

Don't worry little ferret. I'll come back for you someday. But first my cat has to die, but before that, my dogs have to die. I can't have a cat until my dogs die. Then, I'll get a cat and when he dies, then I will come back for you. Okay?

(I'm hoping the ferret doesn't hold his breathe waiting on us...)

Is it terrible that my son wants a cat so bad that he is praying our dogs die soon, so he can get his cat? Is it even more terrible that we told him that his dogs will actually DIE just to get him to stop asking about cats? (A lot of good it did us.)

He once tried to get me to take them to the library so we could exchange them for a cat. Apparently, since you can trade in books for new ones, it just makes since that you can do the same with pets.

That being said... Anyone want to trade. I'll give you two gigantic horse-dogs for one sweet little kitty. Anyone? Anyone?

Monday, March 29, 2010

I love shopping

So, I went to the store today... with ALL THREE KIDS.


I typically try to avoid activities such as this because it is just so darn stressful! However, I decided to go for it. So, I made an executive decision and we ventured forth to the store where the carts have trucks attached to the front.


Two kids sitting in the front truck - Check!

One kid belted in the normal child sitting area of the cart - Check!


We make it through about half of our shopping trip with no major events.


Request for cookies - Denied!
Request for candy - Denied!

Multiple request for balloons - Denied!

(Thank you, btw Mr. Store Manager, I think it's super awesome that you put giant mylar balloons with long strings hanging down just out of reach of my children all the way down an aisle that I have no choice but to go down. So, thanks for that.)

Then things start to unravel.

The kids would now rather hang out the windows of the truck... one from each side so that instead of taking up half the aisle, both kids can now reach their side of the aisle and touch everything we pass (with just one finger...'cause that is the rule). After a short conversation, said problem - Resolved!

The baby has decided to stand up and turn around so he can see what all the commotion is about. After multiple attempts of re-sitting the baby in a proper sitting position, re-tightening the belt to its tightest setting, I finally opt to hold the baby for the rest of the trip, thus allowing aforementioned problem - Resolved!

Finally, we get to the last item on the list... children's vitamins. It occurs to me I have never bought vitamins at this store, so we begin our search. After pushing the giganso cart with a giant truck attached to it up and down the pharmacy aisles with only one hand, (because I am still holding the baby who can't understand why flipping over the edge of the cart would not be beneficial to him). I finally spot the elusive vitamins. They are, that's right, directly underneath the pharmacy window which has at least three people waiting in line. So in my most pleasant voice I whisper excuse me and try to stretch underneath a lady's bag in order to obtain my stupid vitamins. (Do the kids really need vitamins, anyway?) - Success.

I take a glace back at the cart, the kids are behaving surprisingly well (playing "I got your nose" at somewhere between an inside voice and a too loud for the store voice). Not bad considering. The baby is making goo goo eyes at everyone in line. I'm excited because all we have left is checkout and everyone is still alive and sane. Then the man in the back of the line looks at me and says, "Man, you've got a lot of them." I smile and nod and hurry my little brood away, but I can't stop thinking about it. They weren't really behaving badly, why would he say that. I have three. Just three. The average is two; we only have one more. One more than the average. Is that really "a lot"?

I wonder what he would have said if my friend Courtney and her 7 kids had been there???

Thursday, March 25, 2010

A Teaching Moment

Today while John and Wendy were playing Diego, John was hanging off the trampoline screaming, "Help! Help me! Ayudame!" I assume, Wendy was suppose to somehow fly to his rescue and save him. Unfortunately the screams (minus the random Spanish) seemed quite real. So John and I had a little talk about how he shouldn't play like he really needs help because one day he might actually need help and Mommy might think he is just playing. It would be best if he didn't call for help like that when he is just playing.

As my little speach ended, and I was feeling oh so proud of myself for being a responsible parent, John rolled his eyes, let out a big sigh and smirked, "MOM, if I really needed help I would add SERIOUSLY. I'M SERIOUS!"

Yes, I have no doubt that while hanging upside down by his big toe from the rope swing, he will remember to add SERIOUSLY at the end of his calls for help. Silly me!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Introducing...

The Hounds of Neverland

(Since I couldn't figure out how to introduce myself, I decided to just skip that part and introduce our pets instead.)


They started out like this....



A short time later, they looked something like this....


Fast forward a few years and you get this...


And this...



Six years later, Dante and Sheba have stopped growing, but our family is just getting started. Thankfully, when the pups first joined our family we knew our human babies would be following sometime soon. So we yanked on their ears a bit, we pulled their tails here and there, we grabbed handfuls of their food while they were eating.... anything we thought a toddler would do, we did it.... and I have to say, these dogs are amazing. While we have also taught our kids they have to be kind to all animals, Dante and Sheba have lived up to their reputation as gentle giants. We couldn't ask for better dogs. (Not to mention, we aren't that scared of someone coming into our house...or at least staying very long.)

For our next pet we've decided to go a bit smaller....

We've prepared their home....

Now we're just awaiting their arrival.

(Okay, I'll admit it, we went to the store for a new nightlight and come home with this... but boy does John love his new nightlight!)

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Change of Plans

Today, I was planning on blogging about my amazingly restful vacation, but that's just not going to happen. You see, I just spent the last part of my Spring Break driving back from Texas in a snow storm. Does anyone see anything wrong with that sentence? Let's review some key words: Spring Break, Texas, SNOW STORM! Seriously? A snow storm in Texas in March....What the heck?

Let's now review some other key issue.

Drive time: 7 hours
# of adults in the car: 1
# of kids 4 and under: 3

# of times I will be making that drive at any point in the near future: ZERO!!!

Not to mention that the actual "amazingly restful" part of the vacation didn't entirely happen as previously described.

But on a positive note, while I was gone, AnyMommy commented on my blog. MY Blog!!! I'm flattered, really! BTW, if you haven't journeyed over to Is There Any Mommy Out There? then you are totally missing out. It rocks! (...and YES, AnyMommy, I love them!)

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Where to Lay her Pretty Head?

Wendy has been sleeping in this bed for the last year and a half. It really is very comfy, and I know, because I slept in it up through college. It has a little bookshelf for your water and your Tinkerbelle night light. What kid wouldn't LOVE it. (You know, if it had some pillows and maybe a blanket.)


That would be, my kid. After coming in her room three night in row and finding her and all her bedding on the floor... this is where she now sleeps.




To each their own, I guess.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Decisions Decisions....

I'm still trying to figure out where this blog is going. I would like to tell a bit about my life as Neverland Mommy so you can relate to my posts a bit more. But I can't really tell you about myself until I figure out what you need to know.

If Escaping Neverland is just about everyday things, well then I would tell you about my everyday self.

But, maybe I want to randomly include how God is a part of my everyday life. Well, then I would need to tell you about how God has always been a part of my every day self. (Given my last few posts, this seems to be where we might be heading.)

Or, I could make this a blog about what it is like to be a non-Catholic mommy helping to raise a devoutly Catholic family. That would make my Neverland Mommy story completely different.

Mostly, I just want to tell you about my everyday happenings: some funny, some sappy, some ordinary, some extremely sad.

But I can't tell you about how my four year old thinks giving up cookies for lent means we have to give cookies out to everyone we see, if you don't know that my family is Catholic.

And, I can't tell you about how my mom's heart breaks because I hesitate on sending her grand kids to the Baptist VBS, unless you understand that growing up my family was devoutly Baptist, yet (again) my husband is devoutly Catholic.

I could just leave out those stories and stick to the ones involving our Great Danes that our children have always mistaken for horses. Or the ones giving the play by play of our latest shopping trip (which, let's admit, with three kids is almost always entertaining).

So many decisions... so little time. Hey wait, this is Neverland... I've got all the time in the world.

What Escaping Neverland stories would you like to hear?

Thursday, March 11, 2010

My Exceedingly Odd Phobia

I HATE talking on the phone to people I don't know. But more so, I fear it. I don't know why, but it is one of the most anxiety producing things in my life (and I have three kids 4 and under).

Seriously, if I have to call someone on the phone that I don't know, I spend at least an hour preparing for the conversation, stressing over it, trying to pump myself up and finally trying to find away around it.

I know, I'm pathetic! I admit it... it's just the way I have always been.

My parents tried for a while to cure me. When I was about 15 they decided that if I wanted to order pizza, I had to call them myself. We didn't have take-out again until I got my license and could drive to the place and order in person. (And, yes, then sit there until it was ready.)

On a positive, I now have no problem calling people that I do business with: customer service, tech support, places of business if I need directions. (Yes, I have successfully ordered myself pizza for the last 15 years or so.)

But to talk to someone I have never met for any other reason. Heart Attack... I kid you not.

Now, a while back, I decided to get involved in our church a bit more. So I signed up for the food ministry. You know, if someone needs a meal because they are sick or just had a baby, you put together a meal and get it to them. Our church calls it the Mary and Martha ministry. There are multiple teams of five people and each person on the team has a job... dessert, salad, bread, etc. Well, I figured I can make some food, no problem.... until the director calls me. She is desperate for someone to be the "Mary" of our team. I will have to call the person to see is they need anything and then call again a week later to check up on them. I immediately seized up and stalled. I told her about my phone anxiety, trying to convince her I was not the right person for the job. She assured me it would be fine. They have a packet that tells you exactly what to say. I finally agreed, cautiously. I thought, God is asking me to do this. I can do this... It is only a phone call!

Today, I got the dreaded call. I need to call someone who is having surgery tomorrow. Can I just tell you. NO PACKET. I never got any packet. She PROMISED me a PACKET! I have no idea what I am suppose to say to this woman. After and hour or two of stress and almost backing out, I finally called. She sounded like she didn't understand why I was calling. (That was fun!) I finally asked if she would like me to put her name on the prayer list. She sounded very upbeat about that. (Success!) I called the office at church to ask if I could put her name on the list and the secretary, sounding very annoyed, informed me it was already there. (Shame!)

I am NOT a "Mary." I cannot do this job. And now I have an entire week to stress about the follow-up call.

Seriously God, this is not funny. My parents tried this strategy when I was 15, it didn't work. And while I know you are a much better teacher than my parents, I am so not happy with your technique at the moment. Just saying....

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Apparently, I'm Not the Only One...

... trying to escape Neverland!



Micheal has discovered the doggy door. Now if he can just figure out how to avoid that whole high-centered thing.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Lessons from Layla

There are times that I have bad days... I mean really bad days. Days when I constantly yell at my children for getting into things. Days I just want them to go play so I can get the cleaning done. Days when I finally get one room clean and, as soon as I move on, the kids have ransacked what I spent the last 15 minutes doing. I get frustrated... I know it, and worse, they know it. If they would just give me 30 more minutes then I could give them my undivided attention. They whine. They want to help, but that will just make it take longer. I get in a mood. My oldest asks, "Mom, can you not be grumpy anymore?" I'm ashamed of those days.

On those nights, I lay in my bed and the mommy guilt sets in. (Okay, let's be honest, it set in long ago but now I have time to ponder on it.) I cry. I vow to do better next time. I pray that I will be a better mommy tomorrow. And then I pray,"Please Lord, don't take them from me tonight or any night. Don't let me regret the way I acted today. Give me another day to be better."

The sad thing is, I pray this a lot. I mean it sincerely, but that fact that I keep repeating my failures is unsettling. Is it that my worst fear (the death of my children) just doesn't happen in real life? It doesn't happen to people I know. Is it that I don't truly believe God would do that to me? I love Him, He loves me, He wouldn't hurt me like that. Or is it that I just don't want to believe it could happen?

But the thing is... It does happen. The growing popularity of blogs and twitter make is so much more real. Moms and dads start blogs to distract themselves, to update family and friends, to vent. And we read and learn and know that sometimes God takes your babies away. These Moms and Dads are almost always strong, faith-filled people, and I can't imagine myself in there place. So I cry. I cry for them, I cry for their pain, I cry for their strength, I cry because I still have my kids, and I cry because I still have a chance to be a better mom.

I had one of "those" days a short time ago. So, I went through my routine of regret and prayer and then I clicked on a link posted on Facebook... And I cried.

I read about Layla Grace. Layla is two and dying of cancer. Her parents think she has days, maybe hours left. They are in the middle of living out my worst fear. So I cried for her, for her mom and dad, for her sisters... And then I prayed for them.

However, when I read this piece, I cried for myself and my failures.

Layla's mom confesses:
Layla now spends most of her days sleeping. 30-45 minutes after she wakes up, she is ready to lay down and sleep again. Is this God’s way of preparing me for all the quiet time that is coming soon? The house is quiet. I am able to go through the motions of laundry, dishes, cooking and picking up without interruptions. But I WANT interruptions. I WANT Layla to be under my feet asking for cookies. I WANT to hear her playing with her toys. I WANT to take 45 minutes to unload the dishwasher because she keeps trying to help. For every time I uttered the words “I just can’t get anything done with these kids under my feet all day” I am eternally regretful. The days that I looked forward to naptime so I could get a grocery list made, or finally fold all the piles of laundry…I regret those days too. If I could do it all again, I’d enjoy EVERY SINGLE WAKING MOMENT I had with her. I would never wish for her to sit still or take a nap or go to bed early. I would never look forward to the days when she could sit through an entire episode of Dora silently. I would treasure every second with her.
Layla's mom puts into words my worst fears, the things I have told myself I never want to have to say. Regrets I never want to have. For some reason, out of all the stories I have heard or blogs I have read, this one, Layla Grace's story, is the one that finally got me. It happens, people outlive their children. Sometimes these children are so very very young. The fact is, there are times when parents have to watch their babies die.

If God decides it is his plan to take one of my children, I don't want these regrets so I need to do better. Getting the dishes done is just not that important. If John or Wendy want to help load the dishwasher, why not? They just want to be loved, be included; goodness, they just want to be WITH me. What was I thinking? So what if it's faster to do it myself? These are my babies. They will only be with me for so long. God willing I will lose my babies by watching them grow to adults, but no matter, I need to cherish them, not for the worst fear - just in case scenario, but because they are my children and I love them.

So pray for me that I can be a better mom, that I can remember Layla's Mom's words and that I can always put my children first...

...but even more so, pray for Layla and her family. Pray that God will take away her pain, that God will comfort her parents during this time of heartache, and that they can continue turning to God during their coming time of tremendous grief.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Infestation!

I love my shower! My shower may very well be my favorite place in the entire world. When I get in my shower, I cannot get out of my shower. I can't help it... it just pulls me in, it's like a magnet.



Lately, however, my showering has been a bit annoying. I am currently dealing with that after-child-birth hair loss thingy. You know, that thing where all the lush, thick hair you get from the prego hormones all start to fall out once the hormones go away. So now half my shower time is spent pulling my long red hair out of my fingers and rolling it up into icky little red hair balls so that I can throw them into the trash once I get out of the shower.



Then...



To add insult to injury, I'm informed my beloved shower is infested. Just the other day, John and Wendy, who apparently had been playing in the shower, come running into the living room with terrified looks on their faces. "Mommy, mommy there's a spider in the shower!" "Come see, It's GIGANTIC" I don't do spiders, so I am trying to convince them to wait until daddy gets home. But then I hear the rest of their squeals. "Mommy, you have to come see. It's a HUGE spider! I HUGE, RED spider!"

Friday, March 5, 2010

I Had Forgotten...

... about music and how much I love it.

The other day we went over to a friends house for dinner and they had music playing in the background. I mentioned how nice it was to hear the music and she asked me what kind of music I listened to.

I was stumped. I had no idea. It has been so long since I have listened to anything besides Laurie Berkner or VeggieTales, that I could not even come up with a song that I liked.

I think it was a combination of things... we moved when our first son was 2 weeks old and just never got around to hooking up the receiver. I didn't have a portable radio so music just wasn't an option at first. Then the IPOD craze happened, and it took me awhile to jump on that bandwagon... I didn't want to have to mess with the earphones. I finally got some speakers for my IPOD, but then every song on it ended up being a kid's song. (Those speakers are now at my husband's office so he can listen to music while he works.) So almost five years later, I've forgotten about music.

It's shocking really. I love music. I love the emotions it brings out. I love the way it can change your mood. That it can make you FEEL.

So the other day, Mr. Darling hooked me up with Pandora via the TV.

My Life has Changed Forever! There are no words...all I know is that I have rediscovered music and it is amazing!

(And my kids don't get to watch near as much TV, because I won't let them turn off the Pandora. Hey, It's a win win!)

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Is the Postman Trying to Tell Us Something?

Today, I got the most interesting package in the mail. I'm not much for signs or anything, but at this moment in time, I am hoping beyond hope that this is, in fact, not a sign. (At least not for another year or so.)

Yes, so I go to the mailbox and discover...

Ready?

A box of sample baby formula and all those neat little book that tell you how to prepare for the arrival of your new baby.

Please God NO!!! I am so not ready yet! (Just give me one more year and then I will take as many free samples as you want to send.)

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Overheard in Neverland

...as two year old Wendy comes into the room crying.

Daddy: "What's wrong sweetheart."

Wendy: "I bonked my pretty head!"

(We eventually stifled our laughter long enough to give kisses and console the bearer of that precious little noggin.)

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Outgrowing Neverland.

What does one do when Peter Pan outgrows his clothes... and by clothes, I mean his Peter Pan costume. You see, we have little Peter Pans and Tinkerbelles running around this house at least twice a week, usually more. And now, while he can squeeze into the costume, the poor boy just cannot wiggle his way out of it. His arms get all caught up, his face smooshed and and his head somehow stuck between two layers of green and brown cloth. With a cute yet muffled voice I can hear him yelling, "Help me, I need help!"

So, now I have a choice to make.

Do I pack away the costume and say a final good-bye to my little Peter Pan?

or

Do I break down and by him a new costume, one size bigger so I can keep my little Peter Pan for at least one more year?

Yet another option,

I can be selfish and keep my little Peter Pan just the way in his, with his almost too small costume, so that he has no other choice but to keep needing his mommy forever. (Unless, of course, he wants to have his head stuck in his costume for the rest of his life.)

I'm thinking of going with number three.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Honesty is a Good Quality

They other day things were bit hectic, so I thought I would make things easier and grab some Son.ic for dinner. In my rush, I forgot my four year old has decided he no longer likes ketchup. As we sit down to the table, John immediately reminds me of his new hatred of condiments.

I realized my mistake and immediately apologized. "I'm sorry buddy, Mommy has just not done a very good job today." In his most chipper and helpful voice, he answers, " That's okay Mommy, we're use to it!"

Thanks kid. I love you too!

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Neverland has been Invaded by Microraptors

We've hit a new stage here in Neverland. My four year old has decided he is a microraptor. (It has occurred to me that he doesn't exactly know what a microraptor is, other than some kind of dinosaur.) But his microraptor is massive and has three claws. So, my son now tries to eat with three fingers, color with three fingers and insists on communicating with a series of grunts and gestures. I have also been forced to hunt every stuffed animal in the house in order to quell the hunger of said microraptor. (Except for Yurtle the Turtle... apparently the shell is too much for my little microraptor.)


I'm constantly reminding myself to cherish these days of make-believe. I'm not sure I am going to like the stage when all the Peter Pans and dinosaurs disappears.


But before I can delve too deep into that scenario, I really need to decide whether I should tell my giant, vicious microraptor of a son that according to Wikipedia the "microraptor was among the smallest known dinosaurs." And looked a little something like this...
...yes, I think I will keep that one to myself, for just a little bit longer.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Is quiet overrated?

Do you ever just yearn for quiet. My house is always loud. The car is always loud. Even the restroom is loud. (Mommy, what are you doing? Mommy, why is the door shut? LET ME IN!!!) I find myself turning off the radio, in the rare instance when I am alone in the car, just so I can have complete silence. It is my chance to think and to be selfish... and it is so very fleeting. I often wonder how long I can sit out in the car while parked in the garage. How long will it take my husband to notice that I have not yet made it into the house?


Never fear, soon I am back in my Neverland with flying Peter Pans and Wendys, following the leader at the top of their lungs, with the baby screeching even louder so as not to be forgotten. And every once in awhile there will be a sudden silence and I freeze. Not because I've once again gotten my silence that I s0 crave, but because now it is too quiet. Every mother knows it...What is it that has silenced my brood? The house is too quiet. And so I stop what I am doing to find the reason why the roucus has suspended.

And you know what, since I'm there I might has well join in the fun.... so I scoop up the baby, grab the hand of the two year old and call out to oldest as we skip through the house singing, I won't grow up, I won't grow up.....



(It is in these moments that I remember, one day the house will be nothing but quiet and I will pray for this noise and laughter and joy. But they, the makers of our noisy life, will be gone, living in their own homes, raising their own spririted children, searching for their fleeting moments of silence.)


So since we are singing, I figure we might as well be doing it at the top of our lungs! (while we still have the chance.) ....I DON'T WANT TO WEAR A TIE, I DON'T WANT TO WEAR A TIE...