AAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!

We've heard the dreaded news all parents hope they won't hear...

Your daughter needs B R A C E S.

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Yup, I innocently took Abby and Emma to the dentist on Monday for cleanings. The good news is that neither of them has any cavities.

BUT

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Abby is a CLASS 2. That, I found out, means she's a slightly more complicated braces fix than a class 1. Her molars don't line up; apparently that's a problem. I was in a daze as we were whisked from the cavity-free good news dentist chair into the ORTHODONTICS CONFERENCE ROOM.

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All I was thinking was, "Do you know how much those things cost!!??" Yes, actually they do and they presented me with payment plan options.

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Now we have a wonderful dentist, and he is offering us a very gracious discount; the problem is they still cost more than our first family vehicle.

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All of you seasoned parents are chuckling right now thinking to yourselves, "Just wait, Kelly. This is only the beginning. College... it's right around the corner. Maybe, just maybe the braces will be paid off by then."

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The comic relief of the experience was Grace responding every time the word "braces" was said. She genuinely thought everyone was saying her name. "How come I have to be with Abby's teeth?" The best quote (this was all going on during what should have been her nap, so she was a little tired), was said at some point during the description of what the braces do. "What is me is, Mommy?"

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I'm still trying to come to grips with the fact that ALL of Abby's baby teeth are gone. Every one, I mean EVERY LAST ONE of her teeth are adult teeth. When did this happen? How did we get here?

updates

Grace started riding her new big girl bike today. She loved it; it's definitely more efficient travel than her trike. Here is the song she sang today while she rode her bike (make up your own tune that sounds catchy; Grace is always creating unique tunes of her own design for her songs):

I have a new bike;

Daddy put on training wheels.

I ride in the street with somebody else.

I ride all by myself in the street.

I hurt my knee...

Right here.

She actually did NOT ride all by herself in the street, but it certainly makes for a more dramatic line in the song.

Emma has started crocheting a sweater for herself. We bought all the yarn last night, and this is how far she has gotten today. It will be BEAUTIFUL!

Abby has found a new sport - volleyball. She is really enjoying it and doing quite well for having just begun to learn. Although she is left-handed, she has realized (thanks to Miss Brandey, the former volleyball coach who is also left-handed) that she can really launch her overhand serve right-handed. I didn't get a picture of that today, so I'll have to post one later. For anyone who may be wondering, No - Abby did not apparently get her volleyball skills from me!

Conquering the world in Corduroys

Do you ever wake up in the morning and put on a pair of pants that makes you feel powerful? That's what happened this morning. It's finally feeling like apple-pie-craving autumn around here, so I put on a favorite pair of corduroys this morning.

I love these pants.

They fit just exactly right. They're not too short (which can be a challenge for me), they're not too tight anywhere, they're not too baggy either. The color is just right - kind of a stone shade. They are EXTREMELY COMFORTABLE. They make me feel like it is more than okay to be me.

I bought these pants at a re-sale shop (which makes them all the more precious), they are Banana Republic (which means I'm somebody), and they have a tiny hole right in the rump where Rosie, the bad dog whom I love, sunk her teeth into them as a puppy last winter. So far the hole hasn't posed a problem, but it can only grow. The days of appropriateness for these pants are numbered.

The thing about these great pants is that they make me feel like I can conquer the world. All day I've pondered my dreams, wondered what great things I should pursue. Now at the end of this day, I feel like I'm in kindergarten. The reason for this is because my list of what I should consider pursuing includes: going to school part-time to work toward my master's in speech pathology, working on my sign language skills to work toward becoming a certified ASL interpreter, writing, making little wire and ribbon angels through this work-at-home company that pays $2.50 for every finished angel (okay, that's not a dream, just money), teaching beginning knitting classes (once I've improved my own skills), becoming an ebay seller extraordinaire, learning guitar and becoming an acoustic rock star...

There's this problem with trying to figure out who I am, who I think I am, who I want to be, who I actually could be. I know I love being a wife, a mom, a child of my Heavenly Father, and beyond that I'm stumped. What if I pursue something that I'm not actually cut out for?

These dumb pants have me all confused.

Friday

Fridays make me happy.

Last night I was babysitting for another couple who we swap babysitting with for date nights. I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies and gave one to each kiddo before getting them off to bed. Coleson is in kindergarten, and halfway through his cookie he stopped, looked at me with a deeply thoughtful expression, and said,

"This cookie is making me eat it too fast... (deep sigh)."

I thought that statement was excellently put; I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before. It's NOT ME who is to blame; it's THE COOKIE.

These are pictures from our perrennial garden (which we are enjoying immensely) and a quote from my Smith & Hawken calendar which I also enjoy. I'm about to speak at a women's retreat in Iowa in a couple of weeks. This quote is quite in line with where my thoughts have been lately...

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

Pictures and a Story

Thought I'd share a few favorite vacation and conference pictures. I won't share much else seeing as how it is 12:16 a.m. after closing at Lincoln Perk tonight, and my normally fairly fuzzy brain is feeling exceptionally fuzzier.

And, I do have to share one of the short stories that Sheila Walsh shared at the conference in her beautiful Scottish accent. She talked about how her son is always bringing home wounded animals to take care of until they are healthy enough to make it on their own. He has a very tender heart. One such animal was a tiny sparrow that Sheila ended up having to feed every hour around the clock (even setting her alarm every hour of the night) just to keep it alive. Once it was a little stronger, she and her son drove about an hour to a bird sanctuary where this sparrow could be safe and grow stronger.

Sheila said she walked in to the most amazing and hilarious sight. There standing on the floor behind the desk was a duck with one foot, an owl with a broken beak, and another bird (can't exactly remember the details) with a broken wing. They were stumbling and hopping about together as great friends from long ago might. Sheila commented to the woman at the desk, "Well, I didn't know that owls and ducks got along so well."

"O, they don't," replied the woman, "only broken ones do."

If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete be being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. -Philippians 2:1-4

I've got a bit to learn from a broken duck.

Naptime Wars

Naptime is going very badly at our house lately. My sweet Grace who just turned 4 on Sept. 16 has decided to stop sleeping ever, at all, during the day. It doesn't matter what has gone on that day, how worn out she is, or how late she stayed up the night before. She refuses to give in.


Don't get me wrong. We still have naptime every afternoon. It is simply peppered with a squeaky door opening and a loud 4 year-old voice calling, "Is naptime over now?" every 5 minutes. This puts a real damper on my history and literature reading to Abby and Emma (which I save for during Gracie's nap, so we can focus). It puts an even bigger damper on my occasional nap (I never gave them up), and leaves me emotionally challenged.


The child can't actually function very well without her naps. She's grouchy and emotional and loopy - all at once. Her eyelids are heavy, even while she's asking if naptime is over. Last night was the dinner we hosted for our elders and their wives; Grace went to bed very late. The night before was small group; Grace went to be very late. She refused to sleep during naptime yesterday, and this is how I found her at the end of naptime today...


Yes, that's a chair in her bed.

She also rises plenty early saying, "Mommy, I can get up now. See, it's morning now. Look at the sun."

"But Grace, we don't get up with the sun in this family." She doesn't care.

I'm losing ground. This war is not going in my favor.

Blah

I'm tired. I've been in a blah mood mostly all day, and I hate it when that happens. I kept telling myself to snap out of it, kept reminding myself of all the reasons I have for joyfulness, even just plain happiness, for gratitude... didn't help, just made me feel a little more like a failure for failing to snap out of it! Today would have been a good day for a happy pill, just one little dose of smile, maybe even laugh, happiness.

We hosted a new church small group at our house last night. I really like having people in our home. I love to provide a comfortable place for people to relax and be real, a safe haven. The problem with this week was that on Monday we changed from Abby and Emma sharing a room to Abby and Emma each having their own room. This is a good and wonderful thing all except that it means a large amount of stuff is now homeless, and the basement and upstairs hallway were serving as temporary homeless shelters. Yesterday, we HAD TO DEAL WITH THE STUFF. There were about to be people in our home. I stood there looking at the basement as tears began to form, paralyzed and confused.

The decision to make the laundry room/storage room the new homeless shelter happened. Now I have to stay out of that room, or I will cry.

Tonight we hosted an elders and wives dinner. A miracle happened between 5:30 and 6:00 p.m. We had Tex-Mex night out on the back patio. I made chicken enchiladas with poblano cream sauce, homemade refried beans, and salsa rice. It was a busy day, and at 5:30 I dashed to the bathroom to get a shower. Greg and I ran this morning, so I've been mostly gross all day. I thought it would be really silly to take a shower before I rolled 4 pans of enchiladas (with all that softening of tortillas in oil). The problem was that I didn't get that done until 5:30, people were supposed to arrive at 6:00. There was still much to be done, I was in a slight panic, so I prayed. "Lord, I need a miracle. I don't know how it will be possible, but could You allow us to be ready to receive these guests graciously when they arrive? Help us somehow get it all done."

Not one of the deeper prayers, I know. But here's the real truth. I stood in my kitchen, make-up on, hair dried, enchiladas hot, beans mashed, tables set, beverages made, rice ready, trying to frantically think of something to do at 5:55. When our guests arrived, I had nothing else to do but visit with them. It was a miracle, and I don't know how it happened (I owe a lot to a need-sensing hubby).

I'm thankful that He blessed the prayer of a grumpy Martha really wanting to transform into a Mary. We had a great time tonight. I'm thinking I'll sleep well.