Dec 13, 2013

The Best Kind of Fairy Tale.

There are a lot of challenges to being a divorce attorney. I meet some of the best people at the worst times in their lives. Emotions run high on both sides and I often remind my clients that my job is to not be the emotional one, but to bring calm to where I can. I am entering into my tenth year of practice. I am impressed I've been able to do anything for ten years, especially in such a highly emotionally charged field.
Also, in just a few days, The Hero and I will celebrate nine years of marriage. Being married and surrounded by so much divorce sometimes has its advantages. I think it has given me a good barometer of what is worth fighting about and what is better to just let go. The Hero and I also are a great balance for one another's personalities.

My father use to be fond of saying that when most of the struggle is gone out of a marriage, most of the fun is as well. That resonates for me. The first real fight The Hero and I had, he was terrified that I would call it quits. After the situation had mellowed and we had asked for one another's forgiveness, we acknowledged that if we were going to get gray together, another disagreement was bound to occur. And we were worth fighting for, as long as we were respectful and didn't mistake passion for being personal. If the last nine years had been sunshine and roses and The Hero rode home from work on a white horse, I would still love him. But it has been watching him and struggling through the hard times with him that have deepened my respect and love for him. We know so much more about one another because there have been hard times and we are more confident than ever that we are worth fighting for.

While the world throws so much temptation our way and is consistently reminding us that I will never look like a supermodel and The Hero and I are exhausted from work, kids and bills at the end of every day. Sometimes we take the bait. We debate about buying something we don't need, just because it's cool or we believe for an instant that we "need" it. I struggle with my self-esteem on days when I remember I'm not the size I was nine years ago. We grumble as we hit the couch after an entire day of not seeing each other and barely touching. But when we steal kisses and our kids gag, when he brews my favorite pot of coffee or when I hear a client describe a horribly abusive marriage, I am reminded that we are living a fairy tale. I don't think Cinderella had a mortgage on her castle, but for us a house with a mortgage means we are blessed to be working and two kids at soccer means they are healthy enough for sports. And curling up together at the end of a long day is a reminder that after nine years, it isn't always bliss, but it is most definitely a fairy tale. 

Nov 11, 2013

This Mama's Boy

I wonder if all parents have ridiculous expectations of their children.
I know I did. 
Most days, I still do. 
Adopting The Angel and The Dinosaur was The Hero & I's first foray into the world of parenting.
I had amazing hopes and dreams.
Crayons, giggles, painting toe nails, family vacations, attachment with cuddles and perfect family pictures.
When we discovered from our referral that we would have not one child but two, I was elated. 
I secretly hoped our little boy would be a mama's boy.
I was devastated to learn that our son was anything but. 
Daddy was needed for everything. 
Sports, cutting his steak, tying his shoes, watching him do a number of jumps off our furniture. 
He only asked for one person.
It was like a cuss word to me in our house. 
Almost four years later, The Dinosaur is still Daddy obsessed.
Daddy is still requested for almost everything.
Except in the still of the morning when no one else is awake but he and I. 
When he grabs a blanket and asks to be cuddled just a little longer. 
When tired still grips him and he takes me by the hand to help him get dressed. 
Or when he wants to be swaddled after a bath and asks if I'll sit next to him.
Nights when he can't fall asleep and he asks for me to hold his hand until he closes his eyes.
These are the moments I treasure the most.
And although sometimes it does hurt that in public he defers to Daddy always,
I'll keep his little secret.
I heard the amazing Kristen Howerton lead a small breakout session at Idea Camp back in September and she discussed how attachment for adopted children is different that what we normally think it should look like for biological kids.
That attachment isn't always hugs and cuddles.
The relief I felt in that moment was three and a half years of guilt flowing out of me.
I fought back tears as she described the expectations we have for our adoptive children.
And WE want it to look/feel/be a certain way.
He and I's relationship is supposed to look different. 
Because it is different. 
I am still his mama. 
And he is still my son.
And THAT makes him this mama's boy.

Nov 5, 2013

November: National Adoption Month

November is National Adoption Month. 
Oklahoma has a great website that highlights children currently 
legally available for adoption and are waiting for a family in the State. 
As we enter the holiday season, please use this time of Thanksgiving to pray over those who
are without this holiday season.

And the National Photo list of children available for adoption can be found at:

Oct 22, 2013

As a child, I was probably the easiest kid to discipline. Being a people pleaser and craving acceptance, I merely had to be told that someone was disappointed in me to be crushed. I would avoid getting in trouble at all costs and definitely never stayed there long. Whatever attitude or behavior modification was required, I was quick to figure it out. This mantra has repeated itself throughout my adult life. I still crave the need to be accepted and approved by those around me and even those I barely know.

As I talk to more and more women, this appears to be an indicator that points to our femininity. At work, at home, during our kids soccer practice, we are numbing our souls and our abilities to make new acquaintances or even go deeper with the people we already regularly see because we'd rather be accepted. We reduce our stories to ones about our kids, our work, our wardrobes; or worse, we don't tell a story at all, we mindlessly check out of every situation by clicking through our electronic device. 

Why do we try so hard to be acceptable, even at trivial or ridiculous things like nail color, hair color, fashion? Do we really care that our hearts are out of alignment and our families are craving for our attention and neither of those issues require opening the latest fashion magazine?
Why are we secretly yearning for community and connection, yet are able to settle for gossip and chatter? When we will we know that being risky and vulnerable is more fulfilling than being guarded and "safe"? What if we pressed into one another more strategically, instead of letting our main level of communication be facebook "likes" and re-pinning one another's dinner pins?

Oct 9, 2013

Growth Indoors: An Experiment

So it may be a smidge understated that I am having a hard time dealing with the cooler weather around here. The thought of not being able to play outside in the garden and watching every thing in our backyard freeze over always depresses me slightly.
By January, I'm over the weather and the bickering kids on the weekends and am ready to start pruning trees and tilling dirt. This year, I decided to experiment with growing a few things inside in order to combat a post-Super Bowl depression (that really is the only reason there is a January right?). The Hero seems to believe that I have once again taken my projects overboard, but I think I kept myself in check for the most part. 
Exhibit A: Our dining room table. One tomato plant, a jalapeno plant and a Tabasco pepper plant. This area of the house gets great sunlight and we never eat here, so these babies are guaranteed to have a warm and safe winter.
Exhibit B: Our kitchen counter across from our giant window that overlooks the back yard.
Exhibit C: Window sill in the kitchen. Those two tiny little sprouts are romaine lettuce. We'll see how they hold up. I am fully aware that lettuce can be grown outside for awhile past cooler weather and even some times past frost, but our immediate neighbors have decided feeding rabbits are a great idea. Apparently, they love eating here better, so I'm forced to try inside earlier than I would have liked.
Any one else growing something inside this winter?  How else do you bust the winter time blues?

Oct 8, 2013

Garden Planning 2014: Bat Houses?

Spring of 2014 will be my third spring planting a garden. I never would have thought a little hobby of ours would have grown into a 1/4 of our backyard and one of my favorite parts of every day. As I am making my list of what I want to add for next year, I've been researching a lot of garden supply blogs and stores online. 
Since Oklahoma didn't have much of a harsh winter last year, our mosquito population exploded this year. It felt as though every evening in the garden was cut short to being covered with whelps and bites over every inch of our bodies. The Hero sprayed organic spray, we doused ourselves in repellent before going outside and we avoided the most prevalent times of the day to work out in the garden, but all was for not. 
As I researched ways to rid ourselves of mosquitoes and Calamine lotion, I read that bats are avid mosquito hunters. In fact, one bat can eat between 500-1000 mosquitoes in an HOUR?!! I was intrigued. 
Bats appear to not cause damage to property, butterflies, pets or kids. And the only thing you need to do in order to attract them is to put up a bat house. A house for bats? I know. Right. I never knew there was such a thing. 

Take this beauty for example: 

It is a two chambered model, offered by at is a two chambered model. Breeding couples are housed on one side and single bats can live on the opposite side. The instructions state that the house should be placed fifteen feet above the ground, and for quicker occupation, place the house on a pole or a structure as opposed to a tree; as bats seem to dislike navigating around tree branches and leaves. 

This model claims to hold up to 100 bats! 

Ok. Fess up. Are you intrigued or creeped out by watching a bunch of bats over your garden at twilight? Anyone familiar with bat houses? 

Oct 7, 2013

International Day of the Girl: A Letter to My 10yr Old Self

Today is International  Day of the Girl. In honor and support of the Raise Your Hand campaign, bloggers were asked to write a letter to their younger selves.

I chose me at ten years old. Not that I can remember anything specific about being in fourth grade, but ten is always a nice, round number. And as my daughter always says, after nine you are in double digits for a long time.

Dear Lindsey,


Turn around.

Go back inside the house.

You're probably headed to be outside under a tree somewhere reading a book. Go into your bathroom, the one with the horrible red sinks and look in the mirror. Look past the freckles and your goofy, large front teeth. You'll soon learn that good makeup and braces can only fix so much about a person. You're right about clothes and boys, even at this age. Boys are gross and will continue to be. For much longer than you'll discover. Clothes are meaningless, unless they are your favorite pair of jeans, and until we are talking about shoes. Cinderella was on to something. One pair can equal a life change; whether they be stilettos or running shoes. Redefine what you believe to be beauty. It's inside you, not outside of you.

Now grab that book and go back outside under your favorite mulberry tree. The one Papa planted before he passed away. The one where he feels the closest to you.  You will spend much of your life believing that people who live in the spotlight are the only ones that matter. Disregard ALL this nonsense. Introverts change the world that extroverts attempt to dominate. Being a people pleaser will get you no where. There is power in telling those around you that you need time to process, think, just be, and develop thoughts, before they demand an answer or a response from you. The earlier you hone this skill, the easier you can exhale.

Baby, know this: you are stronger than you know, loved more than you'll ever believe and able of doing things to change the world. Laugh more than you cry, give more than you take, good manners and a perfect lip gloss will cover a lot of sins. You already know how to work hard, but remember to allow times to slip away and just be. Religion is different than following Jesus. A Buddhist will show you how to pray, a Hindu will remind you that you serve a living God, a Muslim can change the way you view everything and a Catholic will be your best friend.

Remember that God gave you the stars to remind you how small you are, he gave you animals to know that you never want that much dominance and he gave you people to show how deep you can love. That Corvette you always wanted isn't as much fun when you're paying for it, but nothing is as freeing as wind in your face. Live on less than you earn, save and then buy; credit cards are tfrom he devil.

If we were having tea right now, I'd tell you that your first instinct is always the right one; that boy you think you'll love first will break your heart, but do it any way. It's the experience and not the result that brings about the best learning. Skip law school and do what you know turns you ignited each and every day and allow whatever that is to change every ten years or so. Never stop learning, praying or giving. God is in every thing that you chose to allow Him and only those humans who've earned the right to be in your life should be allowed to stay. Hug Nannie tighter each time you see her. Trust me. The open wound she leaves will burn, even though you're supposed to be fully grown. And make her write down every recipe she knows; the woman keeps horrible records.

I love you. I don't want you rewasting the years I spent learning how to say that to you.

You are loved. Just as you are.

Knobby kneed and completely silly.

Freckled and socially awkward.

Loud mouthed to those you love
and jittery around those you don't.

You got this.

Life is so much bigger and scary now than it will be in a few years.

And when they hand you the diagnosis saying you'll never have children...cry over it. Loud and long and hard. Mourn the period that infertility plagues your mind and heart. Just to say you gave it respect. And then move on. Yes, a wee one will never come from your body, but your home will be filled to the brim with laundry and crayons and laughter.   And your boobs will stay a little perky a little longer than your friends (yes, you will get boobs. It will take at least until your 20).

May you experience every joy and every heartbreak to the fullest. It's the only way you'll ever know how to do anything, all in. It's the thing I love the most about you.

Hugs and Love,


Aug 31, 2013

What's To Love About August

August in Oklahoma is the hottest month of the year. 
Growing up here all of my life use to leave me groaning every day in this 100 plus temps.
But the longer I live here, the more I have come to fall in love with August. 
There are very few months that have such a flux of change.
Sweet comings and goings, graspings and savorings that not many months here possess.

August brings new beginnings with school. 
School supplies piled high, the smell of new erasers and readjusting to life on a schedule.

Savoring the last bit of growing beauty before fall takes over and the air chills out. 

The last bit of grasping to lazy days and naps for no good reason. 
The final bits of friends visiting for the summer. 

The garden in full swing as the veggies and fruits craving the hottest part of the heat in order to blossom and produce. 

Sweating in the kitchen, canning the fullness of abudance to savor come winter.

Escaping outdoors a few more moments to explore and discover. 

Anticipation of  the opening of our States second

While the air is hot and most people spend most of Oklahoma's Augusts indoors, there is so much to love about this month that I'm almost sad to see it go. 

Jul 16, 2013

What Makes It Great

It's no big secret. Adoption is hard. Damn hard some days. Some weeks even. 
Hard is definitely a four letter word to describe it. 
But there are moments in this parenthood that are, that I wouldn't take back for all the hard that has been produced between now and back then. 
Like, for the last two days at pickup, one of my babies who is no stranger to the hard and how to make it hard, screams my name and throws themselves into my arms. 
And last night a bed time, as he curled his fingers through mine, he whispers "Mommy, you are my friend." 
Yes, there is hard. And sometimes it is all that I see in a day. But it is the moments that are breathless that make it easier to breathe. 

"Of course it's's the hard that makes it great." Tom Hanks, A League of Their Own

Jul 6, 2013

Every Good Thing

I love this time of year. 
The growth, the heat, the shades of green.
I started gardening two years ago. 
It's the most amazing communion with God's world I have every day.
From the first tomato on the vine yesterday,

to my first eggplant ever,

our first time growing sunflowers,

 dreaming about pickles soon to come,

the two teensy raspberries, 

and my favorite daylily plant.

All is grace,
All is good 
and it is our personal gifts from our Maker.
Daily changing. 
But worth exploring to discover. 
Every. Single. Day.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights..."James 1:17

What have you been blessed with this weekend?

Jun 27, 2013

"Office School" ?

I'm not sure where or who first used the term "home school" with The Angel, but about every six weeks, she asks me if and when she will every be home schooled. I always give her the same answer, "I have no idea" and "I hope never". 
To be frank, homeschooling has always intimated me and one of the things I always beg God not to call me to do. 
But He saw fit to give me a daughter to think that homeschooling is her personal garden of Eden. 
Because of our summer schedule, The Angel has been in church camp, day camps, etc. for the last five weeks. With our family vacation scheduled at the end of July, there was a three week lapse in what we had scheduled for The Angel. The Hero and I talked about what to do while we were at work and the answer seemed to return to her spending her days with us at our offices. 
So I told her we were giving her a reading list and buying a couple of work books to give her a boost before third grade and she'd be spending her days at the office with me, doing some school work and reading. 
I thought she would scream, protest or profess eternal boredom. 
She's upstairs as I type, packing a back pack, sharpening pencils and giving The Dinosaur the 411 as to what home schooling looks like when your mom works a full time job.
Lord, this is only 3 weeks. 
3 weeks. 

Jun 20, 2013


For the second year in a row, The Angel has spent a week at church camp.

The last night of camp is family night, where we are invited to come have dinner with the campers.

The Dino has asked EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. 

"Is it time to see her yet?"

I finally got to tell him YES tonight.

While she's had a blast and has exhausted herself with late nights, 
friends and junk food, our pack of four doesn't function with one missing.
Stoked to pick her up tomorrow afternoon.

Jun 18, 2013

To Pack or Unpack

I read her blog post this morning like I do most every morning. Today, I read it through tears. A night that ended in prayer and tears and hurt, wondering if I'm doing what He's asked of me carried over through her words on the other side of the world. And I couldn't stop sobbing.

Trips to Africa are easy for me. It's the daily grind on the plains of Oklahoma that wears me down. I can hug and love an orphaned child, but patience with my nine year old's laundry strains a mama's nerves all the tighter. Weary and travel worn after international trips leave me fulfilled and brimming with renewal, but find me at the end of a work week and I'm stressed and ungrateful for most everything.  

As I saw the pictures of one of my favorite places today, more than a twinge of malcontent flushed my brain. 
The longing to pack a bag, hop a plane, to return to my second home grew.
"I need to be there."
"I need to go."
"I'm best on African soil."

But as he often does, the whisper came. 
It begins at home.
Going for you is easy. 
It's the here that is hardest.
Learn it here.
Live it here.
Love me here.
Love me now. 

It hit harder than I thought. Truth usually does that. I am always better on the go. Staying proves hard for me. Consistency in living love here is a rocky, previously rutted road. 

So how does one daily live out love from behind a desk?
A kitchen counter?
Under neath piles of laundry?

The more I prayed, the more convicted I became. The list grew long, but short on execution:

Checking on a friend.
A walk through a garden.
Putting down my cell phone and playing another game of hide and seek.

Encouraging a co-worker who I know is struggling personally.
Continuing to practice the always tough "I'm sorry. Please forgive me?"
Complimenting the lady who served me lunch.

Pull out of the drive thru and pull up to our table for a home cooked meal. And yes, hot dogs and cheetos count as "home cooked" some days.
Turning off the T.V. and tuning into my husband's worries and stressors of the week.


Slowing our pace to where we not only hear each other but that we SEE one another.

Learning less about characters I'll never meet and digging more into the character of my children.

Continually, consistently, and sincerely giving thanks. "In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you" 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Documenting my #1000 gifts, one day at a time.
Writing our sponsorship children letters.


Closing the shoe sale window and opening up a list of needs of some of our favorite charities.
Writing a check to some of our favorite missionaries-no matter how small I see it to be.

Quit flipping through the latest magazine wanting some thing and flipping to the Psalms for what my soul needs.

While each one is small, no great thing was ever big without starting as lesser. Because to someone else, their perspective of size may be opposite of yours. I think that's why in Matthew He tells us to give someone a glass of water. A bucket is too much and a thimble requires too little of our effort. It's about the receiver and the giver, both receiving rewards from the gift and the gift giving. Pouring enough of ourselves into someone else to fill the need, no matter how small we see the need or our action. 

"I ask-ask the God of our Master, Jesus Christ, the God of glory-to make you intelligent and discerning in knowing him personally, your eyes focused and clear, so that you can see exactly what it is he is calling you to do, grasp the immensity of this glorious way of life he has for his followers, oh, the utter extravagance of his work in us who trust him-endless energy, boundless strength." Eph. 1:16-19, MSG 

This walk, the journey of grace and love and leaning on Him requires both the going and the staying, knowing when to pack and what to unpack. Rejoicing that someone's going is encouraging me in the staying and praying for the opportunity to return the favor for someone else. 

Praying for you all today, whether your are packing or unpacking, going or staying and praying that you are filled with endless energy and boundless strength to accept and grow in the place where you are.


Jun 15, 2013

Happy Father's Day

I'm not sure how other men handle years of infertility, struggling, begging God to have a baby.
I don't know how any other man deals with a crazy wife who dreams of adopting, not knowing where that road might lead.
Maybe there are better stories of heroism and bravery, but I haven't heard them.
I know that you held me when the sobs of despair had overtaken me.
I know that you breathed "yes" to adoption before it was every really an option for us.
I know that you followed Jesus day in and day out on our road to becoming a family.

I know we boarded a plane together as 2 and came back as a pack of 4.
I know that from the moment he met you, you were his "person" and he's been attached to you ever sense. 

I know that she sees strength and power in you and she relies on you for that. 
I know that you are teaching her how to be purely loved so that YOU are the standard she judges all other men by.

I don't know how other men handle tough situations in their lives, but I know how you handle yours.
And I couldn't be more honored to have my life validated by having you in it. 
Happy Father's Day to the most pure hearted, amazing Hero I know. 

Old & New Again Friends

I've been blogging for almost 4 years now. 
The kids have been home for over 3. 
Out of all the people in the adoption community we've "met" online and in person, there are still those couples who we think "would love to meet them. Would love to see our kids play togther.", etc.
One of those families is the Briggs family from Colorado Springs.
Through our adoption journey we learned we had a lot in common.
Early 30s. 
No biological children at the time of our first adoption.
And adopted two children at the same time, of almost exactly similar ages.
Our kids were even born in the same region of Ethiopia and
were together at their foster care in Ethiopia for a time.
So imagine our excitement when Juli emailed me and said they would be driving through Oklahoma on vacation and wanted to know if we could meet up for lunch.
We were thrilled.
The Angel has been asking for a sister for years and having her former buddy back for even a short while did nothing to diminish her desire.
What a beautiful short time with old friends who were made new again today.

Jun 10, 2013

To Be Loved Well

He's never been overtly kind to our dogs. He likes them and they try to tolerate him, but he's a boy and curious and hyper. And often with them he tries to be the boss. We're blessed both of our dogs are older and have lots of patience. More patience than I do some days.
But things were different when he met my sister's English Bulldog, Edith. I'm not sure if it is the fact that she's big, or whether it's that she mothers him like he's her own baby, but there is something about these two together that is beautiful to watch.
He asks about her all the time. Wants to buy her toys at Target so she'll have something to play with. She follows him every where. Sleeps near him when he sleeps at my sisters and refuses to go inside if he is still playing in the yard.

My sister went out of town last weekend and we were all to glad to have another four legged friend in the house. And The Dinosaur was on cloud 9 when we told him Edith was coming for the weekend.

Sometimes life's best teachers are the ones who never do much talking. The bible tells us that every good and perfect gift is from above and it's funny to think that a dog would be heaven sent, but all you have to do is see them together to know for sure.

Jun 3, 2013

Living In Oklahoma...Tornado Season

Since all the commotion in my little home state the past few weeks, I'm getting asked a lot what it's like to live in Oklahoma during tornado season. As I sat with no power Friday night listening to hail and wind and rain pound our house until the early morning, I typed this on my ipad.

In the early part of summer, as the wind whips the plains, the mood in the atmosphere above Oklahoma begins to change. Carefree moments of spring fade and a watchfulness goes up to the sky. Factors once ignored individually are now documented in groups: the wind, the heat, the air and the rain are tracked, calculated and re-assessed.
And we've grown so good at this process, years of sky watching and debating, has made every farmer, lawyer, mechanic; experts in the laws of physics and vortexes and timing.

When the air grows stale, and the Oklahoma heat gives way to a musty, heavy presence, all eyes look up. As the clouds roll in, we roll out our safety measures: shelters packed with food and water, blankets and pillows stuffed in closets and bathtubs. Candles, flashlights, batteries, generators and radios become close at hand. And we wait. And calculate. Tune into our favorite storm tracker as regularly scheduled programming is suspended and prime time is now maps of city streets and local emergency protocols.
And when the air and the wind and the rain and the timing form a perfect, hellacious union, a finger of the sky touches the earth. It begins to spin.
The turbulence and force, wind and rain breed hail and clouds of debri, which uproots trees and demolishes homes. Seconds, minutes, hours rush together and then lull into waiting. Power flashes on then off, on then back off. Candles get lit and flash lights clicked. Board games and coloring sheets are the only entertainment and a radio is the only connection to the outside world.

And all eyes look to the sky.

Things quiet. People come out of the ground, their shelters, their bathtubs.

Assessing what's been lost and whose lost what comes next. Hugs and tears and "thank you Lords" passed out to all, regardless of your status of relationships. Because the morning after a storm is always the most beautiful. Like the arms of a dangerous lover, the fervor of the night before is replaced by the sweet calm of morning. Thankfulness washes anew and the petty things of yesterday are replaced with reminders of the truly important.

And all eyes look to the sky.

It's now that our work begins. Re-building a house or passing out water, its all the same to us. We'll fix our fence, then offer to help you with yours. It is a part of who we are, these storms we've come to expect and respect and deep down we revere this time, this season, because it has formed who we have become. So don't ask us why we live here or why we don't leave. Because the only way to recover from a storm is to face it, prepared. Not run away from it.

- Hugs n Love,


May 31, 2013

Changing It Up A Bit

So I went through a bunch of weird health stuff a few months ago and through it I learned that I have developed adult asthma. In doing some research and learning about the different things people are allergic to and triggers for those people, I learned a lot about how many people are making a lot of their own daily products at home. I was intrigued so I thought I would try something we use every day and make it.
I found a "recipe" for homemade body wash on Pinterest, because well, we go through soap and body wash around here like we're made of the stuff.
The ingredients were really simple.

1 gallon of water
8oz bar of soap
2 tbs of glycerin
Grate the soap like cheese.

Add the water and the grated soap to a stock pot and dissolve the soap into the water over low heat.

Remove from heat and allow it to sit for 10-12 hours.
Once it sat overnight, the instructions said to take a hand mixer and mix the pot until it is thick.
Then add to a gallon container.
Mine never really got thick. It just looked like cloudy water. I went ahead and added several drops of lavender essential oil and changed the containers in our showers to the new stuff.

The family said that they were not that impressed. It was really fluid and never really soaped or foamed, so they felt like they were using twice as much as normal. But at under a $1 for the whole mix, they are going to use it until it runs out!
Oh well, maybe I'm not so domesticated after all, or maybe Pinterest is wrong as much as it is right.
- Hugs n Love,

All Days Should Be That Good

For Easter, the kids got their own fishing poles and bait kits. What can I say? It's what they get for being adopted by really outdoorsy people. They were mesmerized and although we have had two opportunities since for them to use their poles, The Hero and I decided that for Memorial Day, we would not disappoint them. We'd make an entire day of fishing.
Only one problem.
We had no idea where to go.
Some friends of ours have an amazing property not far from us, but like most good friends, it's been too long since we've seen them. We called and asked if we could bring the kids out to fish and they were elated. Due to all our recent rain, there had been no time to weed out the perch fish from the pond. Apparently, perch fish eat the eggs of other, more desirable fish. So perch fishing it was.
The Hero and I headed to the store for bait and picnic snacks.
Mommy got REALLY side tracked when we stopped by a local farm and bought produce...I may or may not have filled up the back of our car with flowers, veggies and fruit to plant in our back yard. The kids were allegedly DYING to go fishing, so I crammed the remaining treasures in our car and off we went.
Their poles weren't in the water 30 seconds before both of them had caught fish. For almost three hours, The Hero baited the hooks, Mommy wore the glove to remove the fish from the hooks and tossed them on the bank. The Angel caught almost 50 fish!

She squealed and giggled and yelled "I CAUGHT ONE. I CAUGHT ONE."

It was so much fun.

And all the while, The Dinosaur acted tough and brave.
But he still didn't want them too close to him once they were pulled from the water.

We laughed and played and drove home exhausted. They were filthy and fishy and we recounted the catches of the day.

The Dino was asleep before his body was dried off from his bath. The Angel snuggled up to The Hero and whispered "Every day should be that good."
They were both asleep before 7:30, so The Hero and I made a light dinner and poured glasses of wine and snuck out to the patio to toast the day.

Yes Angel, every day should be that good.

- Hugs n Love,