Love Notes

There have been exactly seven nights since April 18 that I have slept in my own bed.  I have missed my family and always hope they miss me.  I got home last night and found a stack of hot pink post it notes scattered on my night stand. 

To be loved "more then the beach"  is the greatest gift in the world.  My heart is so full.

The grass is always greener . . .

There is no noise in my house besides the sound of me swallowing Starbucks and my fingers on the keyboard.  That doesn't happen to me very often.  Maybe never.

I needed to work today and really couldn't bring myself to drive to the office.  My extraordinary husband volunteered to take our kids to a museum in San Diego so I could work at home.  God Bless that wonderful man.  What may seem like an insignificant gesture to anyone who doesn't know us or our situation right now it is the equivalent of him flying me to Paris for dinner on a private jet.  It is grand and leaves me speechless and completely humbled with gratitude.

There is a quote that I came across somewhere recently that reads something like

"the grass is greener where you water it"

That doesn't seem like much, but in a world where marriage is increasingly disposable it says everything.  Good things only grow when you make the time to tend to them.  When the opportunity presents itself, watering the grass could be a grand romantic gesture or a generous gift.  When the need is there, it is an afternoon with a laptop and coffee.

Our grass is green and glorious.  My husband is wonderful and I am grateful.  Thank you Lord for all of it.

Time to make the doughnuts

Remember that Dunkin Donuts commercial 20 or 30 years ago when the little man would leave in the dark and go to his shop and he'd get home in the dark and then go do it all over again?  I really liked that commercial.  At that point in my life I am sure the true meaning was lost on me.  A lot can change in 20 years and I TOTALLY get it now.

Earlier this week I was in my office until 3 AM and I am in the office by 6 AM a few days a week right now.   In between office hours I am desperately trying to keep up with laundry and bedtime prayers.  I fully understand and empathize with the bleary eyed little guy mumbling "time to make the doughnuts".

My schedule won't be like this forever and I have a really terrific new team that is talented, committed and kind.  Our business' most high profile, high pressure events are happening now and there's no time to dwell.  We leave for a seven day trip today and have one more just like it seven days from now.  That's an awful lot of doughnuts, but I know I'll make it through.

When I am home, I am the proud owner of the loveliest family around.  My husband deserves some sort of never heard of trophy for the amount of responsibility he's taken on for our gang.  He has more than compensated for my absence and hasn't complained once.  I am beyond grateful for his support and love for us.

And these kids.  These kids make all the doughnuts in the world worth it.  I am so blessed they're mine.

Now, it's time to make the doughnuts.

Bucket Filler

We've been talking about filling each other's buckets at our house this week.  I LOVE IT.  According to our first grade population here is the definition of a Bucket Filler:

Offering a kind word, a smile or something nice to someone else fills up their bucket.  When you're nice to someone else it feels good and their bucket is full and your bucket gets a little filled up, too.

I just love, love, love this.  Every chance I get I am asking my kids and E whose bucket they filled today.  It is so wonderful to hear my family talk about what they did for someone else and how it made them feel.  I can't say enough about how much I like this analogy and the positive impact I see it having on my family.

There is also a bucket dipper.  Again, according to my favorite first grader the definition of a Bucket Dipper is:

Taking a big spoon and taking someone else's good to fill up your own bucket.  It doesn't make them feel good when you take away from them and you don't feel good either.  No one wants to be a bucket dipper.

Isn't that the truth?!?!  I never feel worse than when I am unkind or unnecessarily harsh with someone.  We talk some about being a bucket dipper but careful analysis shows that none of us dipping from someone else, that we know of.

In the spirit of being a bucket filler I am staying on track with the Thank You Project and trying to be extra careful to show my family how much they mean to me.  I got this text yesterday after someone unexpectedly received a thank you note from me.

Seriously, that might be the nicest card I have ever received.  Thank you for making my day :) xo

Her bucket was filled and my bucket was filled.  Wouldn't it be nice if life was always so easy and fulfilling?!!?

And the little buckets I want to fill the most have just started spring break and need some extra TLC. I "decorated" for them before I picked them up at noon.  They were so excited about this and their buckets were certainly filled for that moment.  My bucket, of course, is overflowing.

Little things are big things to little people.

Be kind to your children.

The world is harsh and they deserve to know how much you love them.

Ten Things to Smile About: March 2012

Enjoying a Saturday afternoon - just me and my guy

Watching the Princess sleep with a PILE of animals and pillows to comfort her.  It looks like asthma is part of our past and I am so grateful for my healthy, feisty little Miss.

Girlfriends who are funny, love their families and mine and have great big hearts. 

The happy dogs who live here

Spring Flowers

A spur of the moment evening with our family and, of course, a performance

 

Indoor soccer starting and the Princess finding her place in the spotlight again

The Athlete and his sweet little dance partner winning the "game" at Cotillion

Amber's suggestion for the Thank You project

Having conversations about God's love with my children, their teachers and my friends

Linking with Emmy before it's too late - yay!!

The Power of Thank You

It's not intentional that my recent posts have seemed a little melancholy.  I am not sad or unhappy. I am just humble.  And fearful that I am not grateful enough for all the goodness that is mine.  It's is my preference to smile broadly, love deeply and laugh loudly.  Always my preference.  And now added to that list is "say thank you".  Thank you is a word that comes easily to me, but maybe not enough. 

Amber over at London Reid is someone that I follow and admire. She makes beautiful jewelry and has handsome little boys. That should be enough, I think.  But she also is taking the time to say thank you in a very big way.  I am planning to join her.

This weekend I will be headed to the book store to pick up this book and get started on my thank yous. 



via London Reid 

 One thank you a day for 365 days.  My first thank you will go to Amber and it will come from the very bottom of my heart.

Grammar Jammer

My super sweet first grade girl sounded SO cute sharing her grammar jammer with me. She wasn't camera ready, but was willing to let me film her American Girl lookalike doll while she shared.

You can see the YouTube link here

She won't sound this sweet forever and I just wanted to be sure not to take the moment for granted.  Loving the little things . . .

Donut Day

Orange juice and extra quarters pushed me out of bed just a few minutes earlier this morning.  Before I left for the store I kissed both of my warm, sleepy babies and asked them to get moving.  It was our turn to sell donuts after mass and we needed to be there a little early to set up.  I left with my fingers crossed that they would at least roll over before I returned.

Driving to the store I couldn't help thinking of the girl I didn't know.  She wouldn't ever get to sell donuts with her brand new baby boy and her 10 year old son that plays baseball on an opposing team will never have his Mom wake him up on a Sunday again.  Their story makes me unimaginably sad.  Young, healthy and happy this lovely woman died in child birth.   Her Dad is the principal of the school where the Athlete went to kindergarten.  Two little boys lost their Mom and a loving family lost their daughter, their sister, their wife.  Everyone is talking about it and everyone hurts for their family. We are not different.

Armed with coffee, the required gallon of orange juice and a roll of quarters I opened the front door and they were dancing. Music blaring, fully dressed and dancing.  My sweet husband had cranked up the tunes as an incentive for the Princess to get out of bed.  It worked.  They were healthy and laughing and dancing in the family room before mass.  My heart was so full.

We got to church in plenty of time and set up the donut room per the instructions.  The other family that was scheduled with us is a single Mom who we know casually.  She wasn't planning to stay for mass because she said they'd already been and right away I didn't believe her.  My imperfect heart immediately judged her for not sitting through mass before her donut duty.  Outside of the fact that it's none of my business what this woman chooses to do with her time. I was judging her in the house of the Lord.

The tears threatened me more than once in the mass.  I knelt when we arrived and prayed for my own family and for the Gerhard and Weisberg families.  The memorial service had been in the church on Saturday and I thought about how different their Sunday morning must have felt.  With one arm tucked under E's elbow and the other one around my son and holding my daughter's hand my heart was undeservingly full.  We were unexpectedly asked to present the gifts to Father and I was so humbled proud of the excitement in my son's face.  My full heart got even fuller.  We presented the gifts and left the sanctuary right after communion for our donut duty.

The other Mom and her daughter arrived not from mass and the judgement swirled in me even as I told myself that it should not be there. I don't really know her and I have no reason to be questioning anything about her.  The kids had a great time serving donuts to their classmates and the other parishioners and the time passed quickly. We started to clean and I watched her load donuts onto a coffee filter to take with her.

"What is she doing?  How tacky to take donuts that we're selling for the church."

"I will be the better person and make sure that I leave money for the donuts that she is taking.  I will be better than her.  I would not do that."

There is leftover orange juice that we both purchased for our duty and I tell her that we don't want it and offer it to her if she and her daughter will drink it.

"I can't take it.  I am living in my car right now."

The tears threaten me again but for entirely different reasons.  I am absolutely speechless and humiliated by myself and my dark heart. I desperately want to go the next service also and stay on my knees the entire time in repentance for my cruelty.  And I remember the post from last week that struck me so deeply.  KC wrote "Criticism is not a gift".  Clearly I should have held it a little closer to my heart throughout the week.  I have been mourning for someone I didn't know and was silently condemning someone I DO know for no known reason.

The Lord is always teaching me that I am my own worst enemy.  The devil delights in me because I am so weak to his power.  The lesson was learned and I need to translate my pride and bounty into true gratitude and humility.  I am, as always, a work in progress.

Romans 12:16

“Agree with each other. Don’t be proud.

Be willing to be a friend of people who aren’t considered important.

Don’t think that you are better than others.”