The Day Is Almost Over...

...and I have yet to celebrate it!

On this day, exactly six years ago, I married my youth minister. :D

That's what he was when I first met him, anyway!

Technically, we spent most of the day apart--Chris and Luke were camping with our church's children's ministry and I had the other two kids on layover at Grandma's house. Once we were finally all home, we were all home and that meant unpacking, playing Lego's with Luke, watching Sissy and Adam jump on the bed, and generally being exhausted. So there was not much anniversaring going on today. Even now that the kids are in bed, Chris has fallen asleep on the couch (almost an hour ago now) and I'm...well, I'm blogging or you wouldn't have anything to read!

Six years ago, Chris and I were silly in love...probably to the point that we made people sick. He was sweet and he was funny and our worlds revolved around each other. Since then, I've grown up a lot (I think...) and I have learned over and over again that neither love nor marriage will survive based solely on our feelings for each other. My husband is Godly, he is responsible, he is loving, he makes time for us, he is involved with our children, he lets me be all weird like I know I am, and he is even still goofy...a lot goofy. Because I know each of these things--and so many more--to be true, I choose this day and all the rest of my days to uphold the promise engraved on Chris's wedding band:

"...where you go, I will go, where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus may the Lord do to me, and worse, if anything but death parts you and me." Ruth 1:16-17

Today at Grey Stone was particularly special for me simply because of a song. On the exact day of our anniversary in the sanctuary where we were married, the church choir sang "You Are" as their anthem. Why does this song matter? Because at our wedding, two dear friends of ours sang the exact same thing...and it was beautiful. Chris and I would also sing it to each other ALL the time, which was slightly less beautiful but still just as meaningful. And if I remember correctly, we stood there on the platform mouthing the words to each other as Bev and Henry serenaded our guests. The song was written as a song of devotion to the Lord, but is also rather appropriate for a couple in love, so it becomes an excellent description for the Christian couple beginning a life of dedication to each other and to God. The words are rather simple:

You are the love of my life
You are the hope that I cling to
You mean more than this world to me
I wouldn't trade you for silver or gold
I wouldn't trade you for riches untold
You are...you are my everything

Until the world stops turning
Until the clouds fade from the sky
Until the sun stops rising
I'll need you in my life
And here's the reason why

You are the love of my life...

There are times in our life now when we forget what it once meant to us to just be in the same room. And we have so many more things to distract us from the love and beauty we saw in each other from the beginning. But this song is still a central truth to our marriage--Chris is everything God intended for me to have in a husband; there is nothing in the world I would trade for him; and because God has knit us together there will never be a day that I live when I will not need my husband.

He is, after all, my favorite sp'ub.

Things I Love About Durham

1. The 'rents.
2. Grey Stone.
3. The man who does story time at the Northern Durham Library. I think he's a little crazy, but my kids have a BLAST!
4. TWO Harris Teeters. Oh my.
5. Southpoint Mall. And the "inside park", which is just about the only part of the mall I get to see with the kids around. Well, that and the food court. :)
6. The fact that I don't hold the responsibility for keeping this house clean. I clean up, yes, but I don't have to worry about dusting or cleaning bathrooms...ahhh.
7. Knowing I am so much closer to the places where I really grew up. Oh, the days when I was free and could be lazy without feeling so guilty about it!
8. Driving by our old house and thinking, That poor man just can not keep up with his yard the way Chris could!
9. Dunkin' Donuts. I know there's one in Fayetteville, but I don't think I could find it to save my life!
10. The proximity of #9 to #5. :D
    
11. Being home.
    

I am such a nerd...

Big Deal #1: Today being Memorial Day, Grandma had the day off. The whole day.

Big Deal #2: Crabtree Valley Mall is the new home of a brand-spanking-new Lego store.

These two things combined determined our morning outing: Raleigh!

Now, you must understand--I am 26 years old. And I was not a huge Lego fan as a kid. But I am apparently just enough of a nerd to fall in love with all things orderly, all things predictable, and all things that come with explicit instructions. I think I was more excited to see all the pre-built models in the store than my kids were...except for the 8-foot Captain Rex (from Star Wars: The Clone Wars) made entirely from little plastic bricks. That one they loved! I dragged Luke around like a little puppy saying, "Look! Isn't that cool?!?!" and making sure he saw every 2-foot by 2-foot box that held more than 700 pieces. He would usually just say, "Yeah" and try to walk off. Poor kid.

When we got home with nearly $100 worth of Legos (thanks, Grandma!) I was nearly as excited to put them together as the kids were. Adam got a Duplo set (the bigger ones, since he's still a little guy) that makes a little fire truck. It comes with a firefighter and a nearly-scary plastic hatchet and orange flame. Sara Beth chose one of the 3 girly things in the store--a set from a collection called Belville that has a horse and rider and bricks to build an awards stand and something for the horse to jump over. And Luke got one of the 3-in-1 sets that makes a racing bike, a chopper-style motorcycle, and a drag racer. They also got a set of magnetic 4x4 bricks in 10 different colors, so they can build cool things on them and then put that on the fridge. THEN the kids filled a Pick-a-Brick cup to boot! They had to promise Grandma that this was their last big treat for the whole week...and I will be very impressed if that actually happens! :D


I love these things! I love the way everything goes together just so; I love the fact that the Lego people have created so many cool things to fulfill a specific purpose; and I love that my 4-year old pays enough attention to them that he learns to use the instructions and do them all by himself. And of course, they must be perfect for him, or they just won't do.

Again, that's my boy.

The End of an Era

Today is Luke's last day of preschool! This morning he copied a message for his teachers in a card for them and then he left with his normal happy little smile. I wonder if he knows that he may never be in school with his little classmates again. Cumberland County has such an expansive school district there are elementary schools around every corner, so everyone is split up really well...although somehow there are still 700 students in the school Luke will attend next year. I can not imagine being 5 years old and going to school with 700 people. My elementary school served Pre-K through 8th grade and we had 350 students. Of course, I lived in the backwoods so that may have something to do with it!

I have been so impressed with his preschool as a whole, particularly his classroom teachers and how he feels so close to them even though he's one of 18 kids in the class. He has learned so many of the things I'd hoped he would--not letters and numbers and colors, necessarily, because he already knew so many of those things. He's learned how to be part of a group, how to eat lunch in a lunch room, how to sit still (I think) and listen to a teacher's instructions, and how to handle classroom assignments. And even though he's only 4 (for exactly 4 more weeks!), I can already see that struggle to belong that comes with being in school. There are a couple of little boys who really seem to be excited about being with Luke and are happy to listen to him share his expansive knowledge of the world. And then there are other times when he is seeking certain boys and he is honestly more like the third wheel in a tight friendship that has formed without him. But he still tries, which I think is amazing.

His whole take on getting out of school became evident last night when he was kissing me goodnight:

Me: Tommorow is your last day of preschool.
Him: Yeah.
Me: Are you sad?
Him: No. I'm excited! 'Cause after preschool we go...
Me: You get to go where? (I thought he would say Kindergarten)
Him: To...VACATION!

That's my boy. :)

He Draws, I Move

It's been a bit of a dry spell here in the blog...

time to do something about that, I reckon.

First off, as I'm sitting on the loveseat and therefore looking right at this particular subject, I would like to celebrate the fact that I finally had pictures printed to fill the openings in our DVD cabinet. We've only had the thing since Christmas!

I think I would like to expand on some thoughts I've been considering lately. If you've read this post you know some of the challenges and darkness of my life over the past couple of years. Several months ago, I was literally flipping through my oldest Bible. I love this Bible, even though it was designed for a stage of life in which I no longer reside. It's a Student Bible, New International Version, complete with the original wave graphic on the front. All of the protective covering has peeled off the outside and the entire book of Matthew falls out when I open it up. It was the first one I actually owned, purchased at the Wal-Mart in Elkin, NC with my own money. I was 15.

One of our reading assignments my senior year of high school involved several different portions of the Bible: the first few chapters of Genesis, some of Matthew, and the entire book of Job. I read these out of my treasured Student Bible instead of the copied packets my teacher gave us, so those sections are replete with yellow highlighting that covers things that were important to me at the time. Every once in a while, I flip through the Bible and look at the things I've highlighted over the past 11 years. My life, of course, has changed a great deal since I was a nerdy little high school student living in my dorm room (it was a residential high school) and breaking in-room curfew sitting on my hall advisor's couch. More and more I am being drawn to those things I did not highlight the first time around, like this:

"He is wooing you from the jaws of distress to a spacious place free from restriction, to the comfort of your table laden with choice food."--Job 36:16

Here is the picture painted in my mind by this verse. It comes with a little artistic liberty as well, but hey, it's my blog. I see myself standing in an open field. Actually, it's the outfield of the baseball field at the elementary school I attended, but that's randomness for another discussion. Behind me, there is darkness. It's not spooky, scary, demons-are-creeping-up-on-me kind of darkness--the trees are bare, the sky boils with charcoal-colored clouds, and the ground becomes dense and muddy. In front of me the picture is different, with full trees and an open sky. I see (actually, I sense more than see) the presence of God beyond the tree line. He is using his hand (which is HUGE...'cause He's God, right?) to draw me toward him, like a Jedi would use "the force". I am not walking. I am not deciding whether to go or not. He draws, I move...as though He was pulling a rope tied around my waist. You know, the Bible says God's mercies are new every morning and I think I may finally be in a place to see that as truth instead of some empty promise.

And now, some very upbeat, exciting music as you continue on your day...

I am not Forgotten

Glorious

Bedtime Conversations and Deep Sleep

Tonight, shortly before 11:00, Sara Beth called me to take her to the bathroom. Inside, I was freaking out about the fact that she was up so late, but I calmly sent her to the bathroom. When I took her back into her room, she climbed into bed and curled up with her stuffed doggie, Suzie Doozie (not sure quite how to spell that) and told me the following things:

Suzie Doozie really likes my princess lamp. I told her there aren't doggies on it, but she is a princess too. Mama, will you hug and kiss her too?

Cuteness.

So later, I'm sitting downstairs and I hear this really loud crash from Luke's room. I assumed he had fallen out of the bed, but he never made any noise so I went upstairs to see what was going on. And I was right--Luke had fallen out of his bed. From the way he was laying he probably even bonked his head on the little plastic stool beside his bed. But he hadn't made any noise because the boy was STILL ASLEEP. Man, I wish I could sleep like that!

A Thought about Mothers

Tomorrow (as in, starts in 58 minutes) is Mother's Day. This holiday has always brought up a complicated array of feelings for me. Being the mother of very small children, I feel generally underappreciated in my efforts because so many things I do are simply necessary--who's going to feed the baby his breakfast; who's going to run upstairs and bring Sara Beth more toilet paper; and who's going to cut peanut butter & cinnamon sugar sandwiches into hearts and stars for lunch? Yes, Daddy can do these things...but Daddy must also work so that we have breakfast, toilet paper, and the stuff to make sandwiches! I'm pretty sure every mother I know feels this way at some point, and I'm not completely convinced that it gets any better until, perhaps, the children are grown and have little breakfast-eaters of their own to make them realize how much work this mothering thing really is.

Then there's my own mother who was, shall we say, overwhelmed by life itself. She was young, undereducated, poor, abandoned, and constantly seeking love from the wrong places. And I was, well, I think I was a little much for her. I was very intelligent, highly motivated, and I was constantly striving for more than what I had been born into. So mostly I spent my life being left alone to do my own thing. And I'm not even sure that I identify the woman who raised me as my mother because, despite all the worry and trouble she must have gone to in order to raise me, I never felt an emotional connection with her at all.

Looking back on my life, there are several women I would celebrate as my "mothers". They were ladies who spoke to me about life and the way it works. They listened to me at times when I could not find words to speak about what I had done or what was going on around me. And each of them offered me a small way out of the unfortunate circumstances I had grown up in. Cathy, my 8th grade language arts teacher, opened up my vision of the future when she told me quite sternly that I needed to go to college...and graduate with a degree. At the time I said, "Okay," but I really had no idea how utterly different doing that very thing would make my life and how evident God's hand would be in getting me to that point. Cynthia, who was technically my boss, listened to me as though I were one of her daughters (even though she already had two) and opened her home to me when I felt unwelcome in mine. Pammie was the youth director at the first church I attended. She was the first to show me God's view of my life and the one who showed me where His plan was leading. She taught me objectivity in a time when I was incredibly emotional about everything. She pushed me to move beyond the default settings for my life and seek out the best future instead of simply a good one.

As I (literally) moved on from each of these wonderful ladies, God drew me to a place where He would unfold His plan for my life--and show me a mother's love like I have never known. Women will give you a range of emotions when describing their mothers-in-law (yes, that's the correct way to say it), and these feelings range from plain oddness to downright hatred. My mother-in-law, which is a term I only use to define her socially, is the one who enters my mind as "mother" and since I actually call her Mama, it makes things very awkward if we are ever in the same room as my actual mother. Her name is Margie, which I also feel odd saying in the same way I feel odd about my own children calling me Stephanie...something about it just isn't right. People have assumed we were mother and daughter for years now--some have even said we look alike--and we often have those "great minds" moments where we end up thinking or saying exactly the same thing. I find in her a comfort, a peace, and literally my best friend. There was a time just before Chris and I were married when we thought she might be sick--really sick--and it caused me physical pain to actually look at her with the thought of losing her to some unweilding disease. There are things she has done for me that I could not bring myself to ask my own mother to do because we simply do not have that type of relationship and I can not imagine being at this place in my life without her. And so, on Mother's Day, amid the children clamoring for Grandma's attention and the hours spent at church, I celebrate my Mama and praise God that He would create a woman with a heart big enough to take in many "children" who are not physically her own.

Frugality...

I once read an entire blog post about the difference between being cheap and being frugal. The writer defined being cheap as basically buying the lowest quality stuff you could find in order to spend the least amount of money. Being frugal, she said, was finding a way to pay the least amount of money for the highest quality items or for an excellent quantity/combination of items. And I have come to agree with this lady with all my heart. Let me give you an example:

Think about how much it costs to buy milk. Milk in my area is 2.99 per gallon and we have a 2% food tax, so three gallons of milk cost $9.15. Keeping that number in your mind, look at this list of things I bought from Harris Teeter yesterday using a combination of rain checks and their triple coupon event.

4 1-lb bags of Mahatma white rice
2 boxes Quaker 100-calorie granola bars
2 6-packs White Houseapplesauce
8 1-lb packages of Land-o-Lakes butter quarters
2 bottles Kraft bbq sauce
6 64-count containers Huggies wipes
4 boxes frozen Eggo waffles
2 donuts (for a Mommy/Sissy snack) and yes,
3 gallons of milk

And for this haul, I paid a grand total of $8.98.

Couponing for me is honestly a bit like a game and sometimes I go a little overboard (yesterday was the 5th trip I'd made to Harris Teeter in a week), but if you think about the amount of money one can normally spend just on a "quick trip" to the grocery store (or Wal-Mart, which is a black hole for my money!) I really feel like this helps me do my part to be a good steward of my husband's income. I don't work, so I will gladly spend my time on a "hobby" that allows us to have the best quality of just about anything for next to nothing. And the fever is spreading--I have ladies at church who ask me often when I plan to teach a coupon class because I've shared with them some of the deals I've gotten; and there's an e-mail in my inbox right now asking for my secrets. If this post sounds like a brag, it probably is because I like to do things well...but I am happiest about the fact that I do not have to spend all of my life settling for below-average groceries and generic products simply because we're a single-income family. :D

In Celebration of Luke

I think Friday officially marked the end of babyhood for Luke. We took him to Kindergarten registration at Baldwin Elementary, which is a grand total of 1.5 minutes' drive from our house--and that's only because there's a stoplight. It's a year-round school, which Chris and I both think is a good way to do school. We talked about it with him for days before we went--we told him he would go off with the other kids and do "Kindergarten" things while we sat in a room and learned about sending him to school. Having worked in registration before, I told him about some of the questions they would ask him, like his colors, his name, and how high he could count. Being the humble child he is, he thought to ask, "Are they gonna ask me if I'm smart?" :)

And oh, he is smart. He amazes me, even though I see him do new things every day. Thursday afternoon I handed him a library book he'd never seen before as we got into the car at preschool and he began reading it as we drove home. Friday at the school we visited their Book Fair, where he opened a book about bugs and just began reading us whole sentences like we'd read him the book from birth. He also got a new Lego set for spending almost the entire month of April on green at school (think of a stoplight: green=good behavior, red=much-less-than-good). The set has 193 pieces that combine to make one of three different critters and is designed for children 6-12 years old. After about 24 hours, he could use the instructions to put together the spider, the wasp, and the snake on his own.

When I look at him now, I see a little boy. I can no longer say he looks baby-ish in any way. He has long, skinny, muscular legs. With his shirt off, his little back looks like a miniature man's back--bony, smooth, and skinny. He buttons his daddy's suitcoats for him at church. He feeds his baby brother spoonfuls of carrot-raisin salad. He tells us he wants to learn how to tie his shoes (what child says that???) and that he only wants us to tell him how, not show him. He laughs in a loud and wacky way, the way you picture little boys doing, and makes up jokes that may or may not make any sense. And when he knows he's done something absolutely adorable and I'm about to laugh at it, he flashes this sweet little grin and looks so incredibly cute!

Now, don't even get me started on how the other two are bigger than they ought to be. We'll talk about that when they start Kindergarten!