You're Looking Pretty Good Carol Jones

I don't know why, maybe because I knew I had to leave my house today, or maybe because it's my birthday and that warranted a little bit of extra time looking in the mirror; but no matter the reason, I stood in my bathroom this morning, staring at the woman looking back at me.

photo credit: Tim Barosh

My attention initially fell to the curves I seem to have acquired as I have aged, but I wasn't put off by those curves as I often am.

Nope.

Today I looked at myself and said, "You know, Carol Jones, you don't look too bad for a woman of 53 years. You've got a few wrinkles and some junk in the trunk, and let's get real, a boob job wouldn't hurt you, but generally speaking, you're one hot mama."

(yep, my actual conversation with myself)

I don't know, something about staring at myself in the mirror and talking to myself out loud made me giggle.

Hearing the noise in the background of our home, the girls laughing, iTunes playing,  I smiled, thinking how different my life *is* versus how I imagined it *would be* at this point.

I think somehow I pictured that I'd be in Paris or on some remote sandy beach sipping fruity drinks adorned with pink paper umbrellas. Trust me when I tell you, in no way did I ever imagine I'd be starting all. over. again.

Don't get me wrong, I love being a mom.  In fact, I think it's been my very best work.  I just didn't see myself here, at this stage again, at this point in my life.

But in the best and most fulfilling of ways, I'm glad I'm here.

And I'm thankful for every single thing God has allowed in my life, because each of those things, from the greatest of joys to the deepest of sorrows, has shaped and molded me into the woman I have become - every curve, wrinkle and flaw included.


All that to say, "Happy Birthday Carol Jones. You're looking pretty good, girl."

No One Ever Believes You When You're 29

I have been blogging for Zack's birthday since 2008, so that means this is his 6th Happy Birthday Post.

• In that time I have shared with you the story of his birth (and how he was 5 weeks late arriving, weighing in at 9 lbs. 11oz.)

• I've shared with you Zack's great qualities (like how gentle and kind he is with people the world tends to overlook or push into the margins).  

• I've shared with you what a great Big Brother Zack is (and how he once put the fear of God into someone who was bullying his little brother and how I FEAR for any boy whom ever wants to date his sisters!)

• I shared my feelings on Zack's last birthday as a single man (get out the tissues, sheesh).

• And I've shared with you some funny secrets about Zack (like how he slept with a stuffed dog named Dylan until he was in 7th grade, and how he can dance like Michael Jackson . . . for real).

So what else is there to say about this man?

That sounds crazy in my own ears . . . this man.

First, I'll say this, you're a good son, Zack Jones.  You're a good brother, a good friend, a good husband (but Christina will have to vouch for that one), and some day you're going to be a great father.

You are tenacious, dedicated, fiercely protective, incredibly loyal, brilliant, talented, hysterically funny, sometimes a pain in the buttocks, helpful, generous, and a lover of Jesus.

When I think about the moments in your life that have been the most incredible to me, they are the moments I have witnessed you loving others.  Not so much with words, though you are good at that, but with your actions, showing the smallest kindnesses to people who needed them most. And if I erased every word I have ever written about you and left just this one paragraph, it would be saying a lot about you as a man.

These boys always have fun!

He brings out the best in her. No one else can make her smile this way!

One of our sweet babies.  Man he loved this guy!

Sometimes he's just so crazy!  And yet, his dad can remain straight faced!

One of the best decisions he ever made!

One of my favorite casual pics of us! This was a lot of years ago.

Always willing to have fun with his sisters.

Zack gave this homeless man shoes once and then years later ran into him again!
Very cool.

All that to say, Happy Birthday to you, Zack Jones.  For the next year, no one will believe you when you tell them your age.  You enjoy that.  :)

In Honor of My Birthday

If we aren't very careful, I think it is very easy to live a topsy-turvey, life-upside-down kind of life, spending time on pursuits that don't matter at the sake of the things in our lives that do.

Perhaps I am just being philosophical because it is my birthday, but I have come to realize that the ability to waste your life is something that comes far too easily for most of us, while LIVING your life, the full, abundant life we are called to live, takes incredible effort.

I made  a list of the things that have wasted my life (and discarded it ceremoniously).  

These are the things that are worth living for:

My deep faith that challenges me, rescues me, protects me and sustains me;

My husband and children, who are the best part of me;

My family that loves me unconditionally, and 

My treasured friends (they know who they are, I don't have to name them) who have weathered life's storms alongside me and still call me friend.

In honor of my birthday, I say to you

LIVE YOUR LIFE TO THE FULLEST.  

All that to say, that is all.  Carry on.  

Happy 27th to You, Jacob Jones

As my kids get older, it becomes increasingly more difficult to write something about them for their birthday.  It's not that I don't have a million things I could say, it's just that at some point, I'm just repeating myself, and I may as well just post the links to all the other birthday posts.  Here they all are! (In case you have some free time.)

• Happy Birthday Cub
• Tenacious J
• Carpe-Diem-Jacob

So, I have now decided to take the opportunity each year to tell a story about them that is a sweet memory I have. I'm their mom.  It's my blog.  I can do what I want.

Jacob was an easy baby, as far as babies, go.  He weighed 7 lbs. 13oz. and entered the world at 7:31 a.m. on Friday, March 7th, 1986.  From a very young age, he had the most infectious laugh and the most tender heart.  Outside of the 5 months (YES! 5 FREAKING MONTHS) of colic that he had, most of his early years were spent making us all laugh.  He was just such a happy little baby.


I think one of the things I remember most about Jacob as a young child (and something that is still true today) is how sensitive he was to people's feelings.  I'm not saying he was always particularly "gentle" with their feelings (I mean, he was a teenager at one point, you know!) but he's always been intuitive about the feelings of others.

One of my most precious memories I have of Jacob happened the year his big brother went off to kindergarten.  We had just dropped Zack off at his classroom and were walking hand in hand through the parking lot of the school when Jacob looked up at me and said, "Mama?  Are you sad?" With tears in my eyes,  I said, "Yes, Jacob I am a little sad.  But I'll be okay."  And he said, "Mama, I'm sad too.  Is it okay if I cry with you?"

So we sat down on the curb and had ourselves a good cry.  Then we got up and drove to Taco Bell and consoled ourselves with some tacos and burritos.

And this sensitivity wasn't just to real life people.  He felt the same way about TV characters.  One time he was watching the Wizard of Oz (yes, I was a terrible Mom and let my very little kids watch it . . .what was I thinking?)  Anyway, he was watching the Wizard of Oz and it was the scene where Toto jumped out of the hot air balloon and Dorothy started floating up without Toto.  Jacob freaked out and started crying hysterically, "Mama! Mama!  You have to help them.  Dorothy can't leave without Toto!"

Like I said, sensitive. :)  I think he gets that from his dad, the man who cries at McDonald's commercials.

Seriously, if you cried, Jacob cried harder.  If you laughed, Jacob laughed more.  If you were mad, he was madder.  Just typing those words makes me laugh at some of the crazy moments of life with Jacob Jones.

Jacob, you have spent a lifetime giving us so much rich laughter, teaching us all to embrace life a little tighter, and to feel things a little deeper.  I love being your mom.

All that to say, Happy Birthday Jacob.  Twenty-seven years have flown by.  I can still smell the sweet scent of you and the warmth of your cheek against mine on the day you were born.  I can also still smell the scent of your stinky bedroom too, but that's another memory! :)

All That to Say: An Oldie But a Goodie

Mike's birthday was Saturday, and we celebrated in the usual Jones family way.  We had dinner together (minus Jacob who is still away at school . . . OMgosh I wish he would graduate and come home!) and then we celebrated with cupcakes and candles and singing. 

 

 

 

I thought long and hard about what to write about Mike.  In fact, I was really struggling with what to write.  Me.  A Writer.  And I couldn't decide what to say about this incredible man I married.

I wrote about how funny he is.  I mean really funny.  So funny that when he does something funny, he laughs at himself, hard, and then says, "That was a good one babe, wasn't it?"  But that didn't seem like just the right thing to say, so I erased it.

And then I wrote about how he hates celebrating his birthday.  But that didn't seem like the right story, so I erased it.

Then today we got a phone call; a call asking us if we would take in a 4 month old little boy who needed a home for a few days. And without wavering he said yes. (Well, I think technically he said, "Let me check with my wife.")

And that's why I love this man.  He is the most incredibly generous man, willing to give and do whatever it takes to help others.  He has always been this way.  If you need it, and he has it to give, it's yours.  That includes his money, and his home, and his time, and his love.

And I don't think there is anything better I could say about Mike Jones.

All that to say, "Happy Birthday Mike.  You're a good man.  An old man.  But a good one." :)

All That to Say: Happy Birthday Zack Jones

A long time ago, when I first started blogging, I asked Zack for permission to write about him for his birthday.   He hesitantly allowed me to write about him, but only as long as I agreed not to tell stupid stories about him.  But that was years ago, and well, he's quite used to me telling stupid stories, sappy stories, sad stories, whatever kind of stories I want to tell, so I don't ask anymore. 

Truth is, I think if I didn't write a birthday post about him, he'd be upset. 

Well, as I was trying to decide what to write, I went back through and reread all the birthday posts I've written about him.

And once THAT cryfest was over, I sat deep in thought for a while and decided I'd make a list of some secret facts about Zack that the world should know.

20 AMAZING THINGS ABOUT ZACK JONES

1.  Zack can dance.  I mean, really, really well.  He tries to pretend like he can't, but he can.  Like Michael Jackson well.  I've seen it.  A few others have as well.  I'd like to say he got it from me, but he didn't.  I have rhythm, but THAT rhythm did not come from me.  (And it most ASSUREDLY did not come from his father.)

2.  Zack has pretty much always been know for his "hair flair" but it was epic when he was in 5th grade.  Other 5th grade boys' moms would call and ask me who did his hair.  This was not the case when he had a mohawk.  Other boys' moms called me then too.  Different reason.

3.  Zack once sang, "Who's in the House" by Carmen at his birthday party.  I have it on video.  I can be bought.

4.  You cannot suddenly awaken Zack Jones.  Bad things will happen.  You will most likely end up either punched or laughing hysterically at Zack's expense.  I have a million famous quotes that Zack has made upon being awakened suddenly.  Perhaps my favorite is, "Say your name!  Say your name!"  That won't be funny to you, but trust me, two people in this world are wetting their pants right now from laughing!

5. Zack can build the most incredible tents out of chairs and blankets and lamps and other pieces of furniture.  I have already used the word "epic" in this post, but seriously, they are epic.

6. You can throw up on Zack, and it pretty much won't phase him.  I saw his little sister throw up on him once.  Nothing.  He didn't even flinch.  Just cleaned her up, talking soothing words to her the whole time.  Maybe it's a super power.

7. Zack is incredibly smart.  Like genius level smart.  Technically people probably do know this about him.  When you're smart, it just oozes out of you.  He would like to use this gift on Cash Cab.

8. Zack once ribbon danced at school.  With a ribbon.  That he twirled.  I have a picture.

9. He played lacrosse.  (I felt the need to mention that after #8).  He also played baseball and soccer and ran cross country.

10.  He knows as much about the Bible as he does movie quotes.  That's probably more to do with Vicki York (his7th grade Bible Teacher) than me.  But I wanted to say something that made me sound like an awesome parent.

11.  He had a stuffed puppy named Dylan that he slept with until he was in jr. school.

12.  He played lacrosse. (I felt the need to mention that again.)

13.  Zack broke his back once jumping off a cliff.

14.  He hates it when people say "Creatives" instead of "Creative people."  I don't care.  I say "Creatives" whenever I want.

15.  He is left-handed but plays every sport right handed and evens plays the guitar right handed.

16.  He is an incredible writer. 

17. He was 5 weeks post-mature.  He likes to do things his way.  Always has.  He weighed 9.11 at birth but was sick and was placed in an incubator next to a baby that weighed 15 oz.  That was interesting.

18. He is incredibly well-read.  A true fan of classic literature.

19.  I gave him his first guitar lesson.  That's more about me than him.  But it should be mentioned.

20.  He has a birthmark. It is not easily viewed. I'll leave you guessing.

I could go on.  But I'm starting to think of things he'd absolutely KILL me for writing, so I will leave it at that.  But you feel free to add your thoughts about Zack in the comments section!

All that to say, Happy Birthday Zack Jones.  You're diverse and special and awesome.  And those aren't code words that only a mother uses.  I heart you.  You are incredible in so many ways, and I hope you always know that. 

Day 19: Watching Miracles Unfold

Sometimes it is incredibly difficult to know just exactly how the messages I am sending are being received in our daughters' brains.  I'm sure the parent of any toddler would probably say the same thing!  I often have to remind myself that EVERYTHING my girls say and do cannot and should not be connected to their abuse prior to coming to our home.  Some of the things they say and do are perfectly normal in the realm of toddlerdom.

That said, I also know that their little brains got miswired along the way and now they don't always process the things we say in the right way.  And sometimes, when they cannot act, think, say, or do what they want to, they meltdown.  And once they are melting down, they cannot self-regulate.  They cannot get themselves back to a normal state without a lot of help.

This process of self-regulation is a big goal for them. It involves both their ability to NOT meltdown in the first place, as well as their ability to get back to neutral once they have melted down. Anyway, one of the things we do to teach them this process is something that is known quite simply as a "redo." 

Once they are calm, we re-enact the crime (if you will) and this time they act appropriately, speak politely, don't freak out, don't melt down, don't punch anyone.  You know.  They self-regulate.  Supposedly, this helps their brain remember how to act in the future.

We are always, and I mean ALWAYS the initiators of the "redo."  But tonight, a miracle happened.  Shortstack was having a meltdown because she wanted to go bye-bye with her daddy, but she wouldn't get off the bike and go in the house, so we told her she couldn't go with him.  MELTDOWN.  But then, without warning, she stood up, walked over to me, calmed herself and said, "Can I have a redo?"

WHAT?!! YES!!!  Omgosh!!! 

I know this doesn't seem really monumental to most people, but to us, this was a MAJOR step toward her own self-regulation.  She stopped her own meltdown.  Suggested her own redo.  She regulated!  And that helps us see that her brain is healing.  Her brain is FREAKING HEALING!!!!

I'm seriously beside myself and just couldn't wait to share it with you all.

All that to say, the beautiful little girl she was created to be is slowly finding its way out.  I love watching miracles unfold.

Day 13: Carpe Diem Jacob

Today is a noted and celebrated event in our family, yet a day that seemed somewhat empty.  Perhaps it is because the person of honor was not here to be noted or celebrated that made the day seem that way.  Perhaps because it came with a realization that your children grow up and move away and as a mom there just isn't a damn thing you can do about that, so you have to accept it and go with it, doing the best you can do to celebrate small things like their birthdays, even in their absence. (do not even think about judging my run on sentence!)

But I will celebrate nonetheless.  Yes.  I will celebrate the noted arrival of my last born son; the baby of my womb.  My sweet little towhead turned ginger turned brunette of a son, Jacob.  Oh how I love that boy. . . er  . . . man.  Just the thought of him makes me smile. 

So in honor of his birthday, and at his request (though I would have done it otherwise) here is his birthday post.

Mike and I had the perfect family plan in place.  We'd get married, wait three years, have a baby, which would be a boy, and then exactly three years later we would have another baby, and it would be a girl, and our family would be complete.

But God had other plans.  Better plans.

We got married, waited three years, had a baby boy, and then exactly 16 months later, had another baby, another boy.

I wish I could put into words exactly how my heart feels about Jacob.  There is a deep attachment I have to him, perhaps because he is the last baby that will ever grow inside my body.  Perhaps it is a deep attachment born of watching him wrestle with some incredibly hard things in life.  Or perhaps it is just because he makes me laugh, living life to the fullest and making me wish I had the guts to do the same (sometimes).

Jacob doesn't do anything small.   He doesn't just carpe' diem.  He carpe's every second of every diem.  Sometimes to his detriment, but often to his benefit, and to the benefit of others.

And he doesn't do anything halfway.  If he loves you, he really loves you.  If he's mad at you, he's really mad at you.  If he laughs, he laughs hard.  And if he cries (yes, he cries) he cries just as hard.

I love that about him.  His ability to feel what he feels.  To be authentic and real. 

One of my fondest memories of Jacob comes from a time period in his life when he was very, very sick.  We had just left a doctor's office where we  (he and I) were told that he most likely had a very rare form of muscular dystrophy.  We rode in silence for just a few minutes and then suddenly he looked over at me and he said, "You know what we need to do Mom?  We need to dance it out."  Then he turned up the radio and we danced (well, I drove), in the midst of incredible heartache, we danced.  And we laughed.  And we lived.  We carpe'd the hell out of the diem. 

All that to say, I love you Jacob Jones.  You make me happy.  Now please graduate from college and get a job where you can support me in my old age.  :)

Day 12: Forever

Today was an incredibly big day in the life of our family, and more specifically in the life of our two little girls.  And for the sake of the birth mother's privacy, I will not divulge the details of the day's events.  But because I saw that over 100 people have viewed my blog already today, I kinda sorta knew that people were looking for some information.

In April of 2010, two little twin girls came to live in our home, where they found safety, and security, and stability, and deep love.  Their lives prior to that time were lives of turmoil.  If you let your minds wander to very difficult and dark places, you would most likely encounter a piece of their past.

After 11 weeks with us, they left our home because we were by name a "rescue" family.  Which simply means that their stay with us was designed to be temporary until a more permanent home could be found for them.  Through a series of events they ended up back in the home of their birth mom who called me one day to come back and get them.  We have had them ever since.

I cannot recall the exact moment that I knew that God was calling us to adopt them, but both Mike and I knew that when they came back to our home the second time, they were supposed to be ours forever.  This was confirmed through so many people and so many prayers.  So, after almost a year of them living in our home, we filed for permanent legal custody.

Since that day, we have had to keep our eyes focused on our Creator because everything else was just too much to handle.  "One day at a time," He would say over and over to me in my quiet times alone with Him.  "I've got this," He would say when I felt the need to control things.  "Just trust me, Carol," He would say when I doubted.

So yesterday was an incredible day.  A day that legally paved the way for them to be forever ours. 

But I cannot forget that while yesterday was a beautifully joyful day for us, it was an incredibly difficult day for a young mom who made a very difficult and selfless decision for these two girls.  I know that her heart must be heavy this morning.  And while people are telling us, "Congratulations!" and "What a miracle!" there is no one in her life telling her the things she needs to hear.  So please pray for her today.  Just pray for Mama K and ask God to comfort her heart and to always tell her what a great thing she did today.

All that to say, Forever.  It's a big word, and one I doubted I might ever hear in the context of our daughters.  Thank you God that you are a God that works miracles.

Day 8: That's My Jesus Oil

We had a healing service tonight at our church.  For those of you who might not understand this, it means that we gathered together, worshipped Jesus, and asked God to heal our afflictions, whether emotional, physical or spiritual.

We took the girls with us for a couple of reasons.  One, because they love to sing.  And Wednesdays are a good night for little children to be in the service.  It's a lot less formal.  And two, because they still struggle with some things in their past (emotionally struggle) and we wanted to ask God to heal their precious little hearts and minds.

As we waited for the portion of the service where they would invite people forward for prayer, Shortstack noticed all of the musicians on the stage.  She said, "Mama, is he playing his piano for Jesus?"  And I said, "Yes."

"Is that one playing his drums for Jesus?"

"Yes."  (in my head I thought, "There is a keyboard player, a pianist, a drummer, 3 guitar players and a vocalist on stage, I wonder if she is going to ask me if every SINGLE one of them is playing for Jesus.") . . . she did.

"Is he playing his guitar for Jesus?  Is he playing his guitar for Jesus?  Is he playing his guitar for Jesus?  Is she singing for Jesus?"  YES, YES Oh my gosh YES!

She sat quietly for a minute and then she said, "Mama, Jesus is so so happy right now."

smile.

Then, at the portion of the service where we were invited to come forward for healing, we went.  And the elder who prayed over us annointed each of our foreheads with oil.  Shortstack was in awe.  Nitro wanted to touch everyone's oil. :)

As we walked out of the worship center at the end of the prayer time, Shortstack ever so lightly touched her forehead and said, "That's my Jesus oil.  It's from Jesus."

smile.

All that to say, I love the sweet and innocent way little children talk about Jesus.  They're just in such awe of everything about Him.  Maybe that's why He tells us to be like a little child.

Day 6: Justice

I was reading my Bible this morning and I read these verses in Psalm 36.

Lord, your love reaches to the heavens, your loyalty to the skies.
Your goodness is as high as the mountains.
Your justice is as deep as the great ocean.

For some reason, I felt the greatest sense of peace wash over me as I read those words.  I read them again.

Lord, your love reaches to the heavens, your loyalty to the skies.

Your goodness is as high as the mountains.
Your justice is as deep as the great ocean.

My eyes became fixed upon that last line.

Your justice is as deep as the great ocean.

Justice is a word I think about a lot lately because of the girls.  We truly do not know what will happen with them because there is a justice system involved, one that by its own admission is blind.

But the justice of the Lord is not blind. His justice sees all.  His justice bears out an eternal perspective.   I can trust it.  Because it is as deep as the great ocean.  And because He is good.  His goodness is as high as the mountains.

And though trusting His goodness and His justice does not mean that things will absolutely turn out the way I think they should, I can trust that they will turn out the way that He has chosen.  And because I know that He is good and just and righteous and holy and infinitely loving, I trust His decisions for me. And for my family.

All that to say, I'm so grateful for a justice that runs as deep as the great ocean.  I don't know exactly how deep that is, but it sounds pretty vast.  And if God is for us, who can be against us?

Day 103: I'n a Power Girl

We've been talking a lot about weddings in our house lately, due to the fact that the "wedding season" is now in high gear in our household (and probably Christina's household as well!)  The shower gifts have taken over our spare bedroom.  There is much talk of dresses and alterations and hostess gifts and receptions and guest lists.

So it is no small wonder that Shortstack has clued in to the fact that "something" is going on. 

Last week, I went to Bed Bath and Beyond to purchase a gift for the engaged couple, and I took both girls with me.  Shortstack's favorite question is always, "What happened, Mama?"  So as we waited our turn to talk to the registry lady, she kept asking over and over and over, "What happened, Mama?" Which really translates to "Why are we here?"

In my most patient mother of toddlers voice I tried to explain that Zack and Christina are getting married and that we were there to buy them a present. 

"They have a party?" she asked.  "Well, yes, sort of," I said. 

So then I explained what a wedding was, and how she was going to go and that she would even get to be a flower girl and throw flowers and everything.

I could tell she didn't quite get it when she started telling all the passersby that she was getting married.  Oh well.  It was cute. :)

A few days ago we started practicing being flower girls.  It was a sight to behold.  Nitro didn't really get it at all.  I have a feeling she's going to be a hoot at the wedding.  On her first try she dropped a few flowers on the floor, then took a few steps forward.  Then at my command to "drop a few more flowers" she turned around, went back to her original pile of flowers and dropped some more flowers into that pile. . . . hmmmm.

Then on her second try, she walked backwards.

Then last night, she did a good job walking slowly and dropping flowers as she went.  But when she got to the very end of the pretend aisle, she looked down into her bucket, realized she still had rose petals, and she threw them all up in the air (confetti style) and shouted "Woohoo!"  Like I said, Nitro's going to be a hoot!

But Shortstack has got it down.  She is all about the walking and dropping flowers and being a princess.  The only thing we need to work on is her desire to eat the flowers.  She may or may not have tasted a couple during practice.

This morning, when I was dressing her she said, "Mama, I'n a power girl."  (Translated, "I'm a flower girl.")  No, "Good morning."  No sleepy yawns.  Just a pronouncement.  "I'm a power girl."

All that to say, toddlerville is hard work, but you laugh a LOT!  Wouldn't it be awesome if laughter burned calories?

Day 102: Don't Mess with Texas? Don't Mess with Mommies!

Mike and I were having a conversation the other day in the car about being adoptive parents and how we wondered if there was a moment in the life of an adoptive parent when you know beyond the shadow of a doubt that your adopted kids are REALLY yours.  What moment cements that into your heart?

I believe I had that moment yesterday.

I always say that I have pretty thick skin unless you say something bad about my kids.  And that is incredibly, incredibly true.  It's not that I am unaware of my children's shortcomings.  I know they aren't perfect.  I'm okay with being told they weren't nice to their peers today, or they aren't making good grades, or anything else along those lines.  There's just a line, and when it's crossed, it's not pretty.

Today, something happened at church related to the girls.  (I'm not going to go into the details, because that ISN'T the point of this blog today)  Someone said a few things to me, about them, that absolutely crushed me.  Though their words were well-intentioned, they shot like arrows deep into the softest places in my heart.  The place where a mother's love is.

To say I cried a little or got my feelings hurt for them would be a grand understatement.  I burst into tears.  I cried buckets in the hallway of church. I cried so hard I had to leave church, which happens to be my job, by the way. I cried all the way home.  I'm talking UGLY crying here people.  Swollen face, red eyes, snot flowing, ugly crying.  And I cried off and on all day long.  Because my mother's heart hurt for my babies.  Every time I thought about it again, I cried.

And I realized last night, that yesterday was my  moment.  The moment that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that those girls are mine (well, ours). It's cemented into my heart.

All that to say, people might think I'm a pretty tough cookie.  And though I might crumble at first, I'm even tougher when it comes to my kids, any of the four of them.  Don't mess with Texas?  Don't mess with Mommies!

Day 97: Happy Birthday Zack

Has it really been 27 years since I gave birth to you?  My how the time has flown.  I sit here typing thinking, "How is it possible that you have lived that many years already?"  I barely feel 27 myself!

I'm so grateful you are my son.  You have blessed me in more ways than I know how to write. 

Though the past few birthday blogs will show that I do have much to say about you!
As Far As Big Brothers
Twenty Five
Don't Tell Stupid Stories About Me

I feel like you are on the edge of the rest of your life.  That probably sounds silly, because I guess technically every day is the edge of the rest of our life. 

But here you are.  Your last birthday as a single man.  And I cannot help but feel like it is the last birthday I will have with you where you are just mine.   After this year, you won't be just "my son" you'll be someone's husband.  It reminds me of the verse in the Bible that says, " . . . a man shall leave his father and his mother and be forever connected to his wife." 

And THAT makes this birthday very, very special.  It's technically the last birthday of your childhood. 27 years ago, they placed your warm little face next to mine, and I remember that day like it was yesterday.  It is a memory forever branded into my brain. I would relive that day a million times over.  

But it's the days to come that I am the most excited to watch unfold.   

All that to say, Happy Birthday my sweet little boy.

Day 58: Half

Today I am freaking FIFTY years old. FIFTY! That's a half a century! You'd think I'd feel older. In my head, I'm like 32. (I used to be in my twenties in my head, so I guess I really am aging!) But, I'm actually neither in my twenties, nor am I 32. I am Fifty. The big 5-0. Halfway to a hundred. Heck, I practically have one foot in the grave.

So why in the world don't I feel that old?

I've always wanted to be someone who was "timeless." (notice I didn't say ageless? I'm not blind! I can see in the mirror!)

Anyway, Timeless. You know. Someone who seemed to progress with the times, and not be passed by it.

I mean, I blog. I'm on facebook. I wear TOMS.

I know NOT to say "bomb diggity."

I have good good friends in their twenties, thirties, fourties, fifties, sixties, seventies.

I'm timeless. Right?

I think the only real brush with the reality of my age came two days ago when I was shopping, and I realized I simply could not wear all those cute tops that are gathered, cinched or banded at the bottom, but instead I found myself relegated to the old lady sweater department. I felt old then. And I felt a little old when the Walmart Guy asked me if the pool I was buying was for my grandkids. I felt old then.

But, I guess I'm okay with being 50. As a general rule, I like myself. I wish I had a healthier body, but I don't want one so badly that I'm willing to forego cake in order to have it. And I'm okay with my wrinkles because I've earned them. And they show that I've lived life. And I'm okay with not being okay about gray hair. I do wish I could see better though. That is SERIOUSLY frustrating me!

I know that I love Jesus more than I ever have.

I know that I have a great marriage. Not a perfect one. But a great one.

I know that I have parented well and that I love my kids. I haven't parented perfectly, but I have loved my kids perfectly. :) Just ask them.

I know that I could change many things about my life, but the things I would change would also change where I am in my life right now, and I wouldn't change that.

And I know that I have NO FREAKING IDEA what tomorrow holds. But today, today better hold some awesome presents and an Italian Cream cake or someone is going to be in big trouble! HA!

All that to say, Happy Birthday to me, old lady.