Sick days need to be counted

When I was a child my mother had to force me to stay home from school on those days that I was pale as a ghost and couldn't walk straight because I was so sick.  In Europe I had to have three rounds of antibiotics for bronchitis because I waited over a month to go see the doctor.  That time my husband told me either I could take myself to the doctors or he would call an ambulance in to take me, but either way I was going to see the doctor...

I hate being sick, but when I woke up this morning feeling off and then as I got my clothes together for work and had to make a run to the bathroom.  As I sat next to the toilet gagging trying to keep what little there was left of my breakfast down I thanked God for text messaging as I "called" out of work.  Still I assured my boss I would try and get some computer work down.  Not because she asked or even hinted because she didn't, but because I hate to be sick.  But it's now after 5 and all I can say I did today was log into my work email account staring at it long enough that it timed out, which is when I realized today I wasn't going to be good for anything.

Even so today is worth counting...
~ Sick days with furry cats sleeping on my feet
~ Coworkers to fill in for me.
~ Husbands to take care of me.
~ 6 year old boys to worry about me when I get out of bed to make myself a cup of soup.  Offering over and over to make me chicken nuggets so I don't have to move, because that's all he can make in the microwave.
~ Laughter who climbs into bed with his favorite trucks so we can play together because he doesn't want me to be alone.  I play along because I don't have the heart to tell him all I really want is to be alone.
~ A camera next to my bed so I can remember my joys.
~ A big bed we can all snuggle in as we watch Charlotte's web the movie, as we just finished the book last week for school.
~ A warm cozy house.
~ Rainy days make perfect sick days.
~ "I'm all done's" being whispered just after I fall asleep a signal that a certain little boy needs help wiping his bum...These days are almost gone.
~ My favorite pianist softly playing in the back ground as Strong man takes the boys out to eat so I can have some quiet.
~ This blog to keep track of my counting, so I don't forget that God is good, and all of life is a gift.
...#234 - 245

The love of an older brother

It was almost tomorrow and I had just gotten home from work when his curls shock with trembling, and big slow tears ran down his face as he tried to keep calm, "Daddy.  Laughter's missing.  I got up to go pee and checked on him and he's missing.  There's just his head nothing else left."

While Strong man promised to check on Little Brother, this sweet boy climbed into my lap burying his face in my neck as I rubbed his back as I assured him all was well.  Myself holding back tears as I shared his pain, while fighting back the laughter of joy I had in his deep love of his brother.

Sweet boy of six years old,  I am proud to be your mother, I am proud of the man you are so quickly becoming.  keep on loving like you do.

231.  A love that runs deep, something only brothers know.
232.  Sitting with my boy curled in my lap, being able to bring comfort to his soul just as I did when he was small.  A fleeting gift.
233.  Healthy boys.

May he never change

Sweet Laughter, was named just that on purpose.  As he was growing in my belly, I had lost all of my joy.  I had heard that babies are very aware of there mother's emotions and often have a personality to match that of the pregnancy.  I have no idea if this is true or not, but I wanted a boy who found joy in all of life.  I begged and pleaded that he be full of laughter, and named him accordingly.  My pleadings were heard, he breathes laughter.

Laughter: Momma, look at this big scratch!
Me: Oh how did you do that Bud?
Laughter: I fell off my bike.
Me: Oh well that happened a lot to me.
Laughter:  Never in my LIFE has it ever happened to me before.

A little while later, when it was time to start school...
Laughter: I will write with this hand today, because this one hurts.  Do you know why I practice writing with both hands every day?  (Which he really can write with both hands.)
Me: No why?
Laughter:  So when I hurt one hand I can still write with the other.

Dear Self,

I didn't write this at 13 with the hopes that you would read this in 20 years, I'm writing this as a full grown women, wife, & mother knowing you need to see this today.  Now more then ever you need to slow and see.  You are a Momma of 2 blue eyed boys, and are married to a man that surpasses your dreams, and you are an RGM (something you have hoped for since high school, I might add.)

Life is good.  So, Self, slow down and breathe it in.  Breathe as if you're standing on a mountain top looking out over creation, taking in the beauty of the world.  Isn't that really what life is all about anyway; taking in the beauty of it, rejoicing in creation, and thanking the Creator for every good thing.  You need to hear that again; Self, slow and see.

Soon your boys will be men, husbands, and not long after Daddy's.  In the words of Laughter, "God didn't design us to stay small forever."  You only have so much time to be "their girl", enjoy it, and hold it close.  They adore you.  Soak it in, breathe deep and count the joys of each breath.

You're job; you love to this kind of work, organizing, teaching, constantly learning yourself, making things more efficient, and trying to save money all the while striving for excellence.  So when food gets stuck in the oven burning 8 orders, causing the cooks to scramble to get caught up, and the waitress are ready to strangle you because the guest are impatient, and only you can see the big picture, that's when you should breathe deep and see all of the joy.  And when you set aside a day to get some "fall cleaning" done and the machine breaks and 50 gallons of water ends up on on your floor, slow and see, breathing it all in.

Count those joys, hold your husband's hand taking in all that beauty as you walk life together.

207 ~ 230
~ A life full of dreams coming true.
~ Laughing at spilled water that takes three women 45 minutes to clean.
~ A boss who laughs with you.
~ A kitchen team rolling with the bumps of life.
~ A strong wait staff when mishaps happen.
~ 4 year old boys using words like, design, and compromise.
~ Managers willing to come in early.
~ Lots of grace as transition happens.
~ Guests leaving satisfied, even when every single one of use feels frazzled.
~ Staff staying hours late with good attitudes.
~ A boss who still answers the phone when I call on her day off.
~ Man of the woods learning to ride his bike without training wheels.
~ Getting to see him do it the very same day he learns.
~ Still getting to be apart of the boys schooling even though I work so much.
~ Lazy days off when I get to sleep in.
~ The smile on Man of the woods face every single time I wear the the footie pj's he gave me for Christmas a year earlier.
~ A husband who waits up for me every single night I close.
~ Saturday morning family breakfast.
~ Freckle faced boys.
~ A husband who will run errands for my store because we're so busy I can't leave.
~ Two boys who will sit and color while he is out and we're all busy at the store.
~ Two boys that always make my coworkers smile when they come in, even in all of the crazy.
~ The understanding and grace my men give me as we all transition into my new job.
~ More experienced coworkers who let me pick there brain as I try to learn this job.

Apple saucing 2014

This year has been so busy with switching jobs, and mourning the loss of my Grandmother, and then switching jobs again, I haven't had the time to can.  I didn't make any jams, or lemonades, or pickles, or sauces, and I probably won't have time to do anything with cranberries.  I decided that apple sauce was a must, even if it meant I had to do it at 3 am.

This is a family joy.  Man of the woods loves the apple picking part...

...While Laughter just likes to be around, this year his focus was how the wagon worked.

I love the smell, the squeals of joy the boys have in the orchard,

and watching summer turn to fall.

Look, Mom, I'm a moose eating apples.

We all love the fun of pealing, eating, playing and enjoying our time in the kitchen together.

Making apple sauce together is always a mile marker, each year showing how much the boys have grown.  Now, man of the woods is able to help boil the apples down.

Little Laughter's almost 2 year old toes from the first time he "helped" make the applesauce.

While it completely tired me out, and I only made 6 pints that I never even taste tested, and I went into work the next day saying it wasn't fun at all, I would do it again and I do look forward to next year.

Gifts over and over again...

~ Gazing at the beauty of apple trees.

~ Working at the counter with my three favorite men.

~ Having little hands involved in the process of making apple sauce.

~ Turning all of life into math practice.

~ The smell of hot apples and spice.

~ Even though this year I was to busy to listen for the "pop" of lids sealing seeing the end result sitting on my counter.