This girl saved me.

This girl saved me. She helped me with my kids when they were very little and I will be forever grateful.

She came into our lives when Justin was a newborn. I can remember one of my first Sundays back at church after having him and she asked if she could hold him. She was only 12 at the time. I let her and the rest is history.

She has babysat, changed diapers, done laundry, done yardwork, washed cars, gone grocery shopping, painted, sanded, rearranged, cleaned my house more times than I can count and just generally saved my butt on several occasions. She was like a clone of me. I could give her a list of things to do and she would do every single one of them and do them well.

I never worried when she was watching my kids. I knew they would be watched and cared for and they loved having her here. She was here when we went to find out if our third baby was a boy or a girl. She had a gift ready for both and I know she was so happy to give me the girl present. She was here when I wanted to nest and get the house ready for Breanna. She was here when I came home from the hospital and I let her pick out Breanna's outfit. She was here for me all those days when I was so exhausted from being up all night nursing. She was here to help me, to support me and give me a break. She was here when I was at the end of my rope with the kids and all of my responsibilities. She let me find my happy place.

And now, she is having a baby herself. I can't wait to hold her little girl and spoil her and foof her up. I know she's going to be a great mommy and I have full confidence that her baby girl will be just as girly as mine.

She is 7 today.

This girl turned seven today. I can still remember when they placed her in my arms and then gently asked for her back. The nurses took a long time looking at her and fussing with her. They were talking quietly to each other and after a while it bothered me. I wanted my baby, my princess that I had waited for my entire life, the girl who would fulfill all my dreams of bows, and shoes, and dresses and tights and dolls and tea and so much more.

They finally did give her back and left the room only to return shortly after. The room was filled with family and friends who were lovingly passing her back and forth, snapping photos and then she started crying. She wanted her mommy. Once she was back in my arms the doctor, who was the pediatrician on call that day, said they needed to speak with us alone.

A sudden hush filled the room and slowly everyone left the room except Bryan and I. She said she would never forgive herself if she didn't say something. She thought Breanna had Down Syndrome. Everything after that I failed to hear. What? How could this be? Why wasn't this found on the Level 2 ultrasound done at five months? I didn't understand and then I started to shut down. I went numb. People slowly came back to the room, only those who were very close to us and asked what the doctor had said. We explained what they said knowing it was ridiculous but it still rocked my world.

Suddenly I didn't want to hold my baby. It was just Kelly and I sitting in the room. I don't know why it was just the two of us but it is so clear in my mind, that time with her. She declared health over my baby and then told me to hold my baby. I did and then Kelly said the funniest thing I have ever heard. She said, "That doctor just doesn't like hobbits!" Breanna had splayed toes (one of the symptoms of DS). Several people in Bryan's family have splayed toes. Lord of the Rings had just come out. Hobbit were big at the time and very popular. It made me laugh and that was important at that moment.

No matter what, she was my little girl. I went deep within myself and asked God if she had Down Syndrome. He said to trust Him. I did. Even though I had that reassurance I still doubted. They came in and took blood from my precious girl to send to the lab for tests. This test takes a full week to get the results. That meant we had to wait for a week to know. I knew, but I constantly dealt with fear. I also knew that if for some reason that test came back a certain way, she would be the cutest Down Syndrome Baby you had ever seen. I would love her no matter what.

Well, of course we got the results and she did not have DS. It was a long five days but five days I will never forget. I learned a lot about myself, about God and those around me. We have an incredible support system in place. They are there for the good, the bad and the ugly.

This little girl has blessed me beyond what I could ever ask for or imagine. She is everything I had hoped for and so much more. She completes me, she completes our family and my world is filled with so much pink that I overflow with love and joy and pride for this little girl.

I cannot think of her birth day without those very difficult moments and hours when we thought we might have a special needs child. I am thankful for them. It gave me clarity. It was a gift. She is a gift.

Honor

It was beautiful. It was full. It was feminine and sweet and sparkly and glittery. Everywhere you looked there was something to delight the eyes. A feast for the eyes. Such beauty and grace and charm. The room was filled to the brim with particles of joy and the expectation of what was to come was almost too much.

Lovely music in the background. Crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Artistic paintings hanging on every wall. Pastels and antiques in every corner. Handmade creations packaged in clear cellophane. Silver teacups and saucers nestled between heirloom silverware at each place setting. As each guest arrived she was greeted with such joy and love as if everything was just for that one.

Steaming hot water filled each gorgeous silver teacup. The overstuffed chair slowly filled up with creatively wrapped gifts for the special birthday girl. Each gift hand chosen to mark a special occasion in her life. The guests took their places.

And then she took out a box. A tin box with the name Hamilton on it. Her last name. I got a glimpse of what might be in that box a few days back when I dropped off a boy of mine at her house and stopped to chat for a few minutes. Oh, the box held so much love it in. Love that she painstakingly put into each beautiful, individual gift for each guest.

Slowly and purposefully she pulled out each necklace. As she saw each name she would give a little gasp. "This lovely lady...." And each one was described with significance and meaning. Each one was made to feel as if they were the most special person ever. That they filled a spot in her life that no other could in that way. And then she would present her guest with their necklace and hug them like they were the only person in the room.

And then there was the food. The food. Each little bite held with it a mouthful of surprise and delight. Each one was disguised as an everyday morsel but it was not so. They were anything but everyday. They were scrumptious morsels that awoke the tastebuds. Just when we thought it was over, more would come out on beautiful trays delivered by handsome children. How sweet to have your children serve your guests. It makes a mother's heart proud.

From the very start to the very end each detail was acknowledged and appreciated. It was special and I felt honored to be a part of it.

Focusing on the Good

There is good and I will find it.

She taught me how to bake cookies, how to make an apple pie, how to make a cheesecake.

She taught me to clean my house, scrub the floor on my hands and knees, dust like you mean it, move things. She taught me to get rid of things, to clean out, to keep only what is necessary.

She taught me how to use a sewing maching and how to sew by hand.

She always decorated for Christmas even if it was only a few meaningful decorations. We always had a Christmas tree and we always had presents. We always had a stocking with an orange, okay sometimes it was an apple but there was fruit in our stocking.

She taught me to work hard and to be on time. She taught me responsibility. I had to be responsible for myself and self-sufficient. She taught me to be resourceful. I had to use what we had. Make it work.

She taught me to love gardening. She taught me to love animals.

She taught me to look for a good husband. One who will provide and care for his family. One that makes healthy life choices and doesn't leave his family.

She taught me to spend time with my kids. Kids don't like to be left alone for long periods of time. They get into trouble. They see and do things they shouldn't do.

She taught me to be a good wife. Be attentive to your husband. Don't be selfish. Don't make choices that cause your family pain.

She taught me to make sure my kids helped around the house, not because of laziness but because instilling a work ethic in your kids does start at home.

She taught me to take pictures of my kids. Save their schoolwork, their artwork, their creations. Save their special toys. They may want them someday. She taught me to save their baby clothes and blankets. They are special and one day when they have kids they will want them. They mean something. They are a reminder of a simpler, more innocent time.

She taught me to take care of myself. Take time for me. Make sure I have enough so I can continue to give. There is balance and a mom needs balance.

All of these lessons she taught by doing them. Some she did right and most she did wrong. I choose to look at them as life lessons. I am all these things because of her. She was a model for me just as I am a model for my kids. I hope my kids will not have to take the model and do the exact opposite like I had to do.

She taught me so many things and I am thankful. Thankful for grace and mercy and the ability to find the good.

Boundaries

Boundaries are good. They keep us safe, they guide us, they lead us, they show others that there is a line that cannot be crossed. Lines need to be drawn sometimes.

Sometimes they're big, solid, double yellow lines that are painted right across the road to define direction. It's dangerous to cross over these and there is a price to pay. Sometimes we think it's silly and we cross over them anyway. When we willingly cross these lines we're hoping no one is watching, especially someone with authority. We don't agree with why they are put there. We think it should be a dotted yellow line so we can cross with caution but we didn't put the lines there, someone else did and we need to respect those lines. Those lines are for safety, our safety and the safety of others.

Sometimes the lines need to be repainted and sometimes, rarely, but sometimes they have to be moved or changed.

When there are no lines it's confusing and we actually look for the lines, the faded line that once was there but has been worn away by being driven over. We think to ourselves, someone needs to repaint these lines and soon because this can be dangerous.

I've had to repaint my boundary lines lately and I've questioned them several times this month. December. The month of being with family, coming together and sharing meals, being in each others houses, creating memories with each other. All those things are impossible to do in a healthy way with unhealthy people.

I work hard to create a healthy family life and I daily question what I'm doing. I'm always thinking of ways to do it better, to improve it. I have to apologize, explain, discuss, share, stop being selfish, and sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm the parent, I'm the adult, I'm the Christian. I'm going to be the better person. Being the better person isn't always fun and people don't usually appreciate it.

I will teach my children boundaries and that they are healthy and need to be respected. We all need them. Time to get out the paint again.

Oh, There Is Love and Lots of It.

This is where it happens. Lodi, California.

We all shop, wrap, create, make, bake and prepare for these two days. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Hours, days, weeks of planning go into this event and its all for love. We love each other. We love being together. We love when we have more to love. Be careful, we'll adopt you if you stick around for a while.

It starts with the preparing of the sit down formal meal for 20-30 people depending on the year complete with china, silver, linen and yummy, yummy food prepared by many hands in many houses. There is talking, planning, munching, laughing, screaming, giggling, picture snapping, guests who drop in througout the day, basketball playing, tattle telling, gentle correction, and it repeats as we build up to the time when we will all sit down together to share a meal.

Then it happens. The tables are set and arranged, the guests find their seats. The Christmas story is handed out on numbered cards. We take turns reading parts of the story of Jesus and His birth. Then we pray, then we eat, oh do we eat. As soon as the last morsel is finished we start the clean up. It's funny, the whole day is in preparation for the meal but as soon as the meal is finished we clean it up. It's like a tide's ebb and flow. We just move with it and enjoy it and come together to clean, renew and refresh and prepare for the next wave of fun and enjoyment because we know there is more to come and we can't stop it, it will happen.

There are always family pictures and the picture drill sargeant (me) insists that people will get in family groups and take cute family photos and they will smile, there will be no bunny ears behind heads or silly faces (Randal).

We've added a new tradition in the last few years, the Christmas Quiz. Bryan creates it, we take it and complain the whole time even after ground rules have been set. Then the grading begins, the third, second and first place winners are announced and all are happy for the winner.

The White Elephant game must happen and we've instructed the people to get better gifts. Make it more interesting. It's better and we all love it but I think the kids enjoy it more than the adults at this point. We do it because we love tradition in this family and if it's traditon we do it.

Gifts for those we won't see on Christmas. We always think it will be just a few gifts but it always turns into a madhouse and we love it. We love the paper flying, the people moving about, the chaos. If you watch you'll see that everyone is smiling and thanking and hugging. And then there is an an attempt to clean up a bit.

Slowly but surely, one by one, people will start appearing in their jammies, usually matching, especially if you're a kid but this year, this year we got a treat. The adults got matching jammies. So comfy, so cute. Those in jammies are the lucky ones. The ones who get to stay overnight and have Christmas morning together.

People who are not staying overnight start heading home and we all gets snuggled in for the night. Letters are written, cookies are put out, children are snuggled in their beds, presents are arranged and put together. You can feel the warmth and excitement in the air. Its a strange combination of sleepy coziness and excited busy-ness but it feels so right. Those we love gathered together making memories and special moments happen for others.

This is where it happens and its so good and I am so thankful to be a part of it.

Some of My Dearest

These are some of my dearest friends. We share a bond and that bond is homeschooling. We've all been homeschooling since our children's education began and we all understand it significance and importance in our lives and especially in our children's lives.

We're like trees in a forest. We all came from different root systems and had different struggles but we all have the same goal in mind, to grow and let others grow with us, to shade and protect those who are more fragile and new, to give a breath of fresh air to those who feel like they're stifled and lost, but most of all, we want to grow together and we know we need each other to do that.

I have been so blessed by each one of these women and I admire something different and yet so similar in all of them. One of them is a wealth of knowledge, a caring voice, gentle guiding and encouraging words that go back and forth between us. She's like the soil, full of life giving qualities built over time, sustaining and rich. One of them is so creative and talented and has a quiet gentle spirit. She is beauty and softness and feminity and gentleness mixed with strength, endurance, stamina, and a pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps kind of drive. She's like the sun, always bringing light where it is needed to encourage growth and life. One of them is an offshoot of me, full of energy, love, devotion, laughter and realness. She's like the water, life sustaining, refreshing, renewing. And one of them, oh this one, she's special. She doesn't know it but she's got a special place in my heart. She's the fire that comes and burns away the chaf, the old is gone and new things can only grow out of this place of devastation. She runs deep, she challenges me, makes me want to be a better person in areas I hadn't even really considered.

They are all gifts, each one. I love gifts, it's my love language. You really love me and this I know. I only hope I can be as much of a gift to them as they are to me.