Backpack Discoveries

Every once in a while I get surprises in the boy's backpacks. Some are sweet notes, cherished projects, odd things they have found at recess, mushy fruit, and evidence of creative ways to use the plastic water-bottle. This time, in Benny's backpack I recieved a sweet note and found a "kid of character" certificate. The kid of character certificate is for having qualities like reponsibility, respect, caring, fairness, trustworthiness, and citizenship.

Dear Benny,

I am so very proud of you, my Sunshine! You have one of the most kindest, purest natures I have seen. I don't take my job of raising you or your brother very lightly... it's sometimes challenging but I do my very best and always will, I promise. Mom will always be here for you, whatever way it may be. You have brought a lot of joy into my life, and today finding this note just brought me a little more. You are amazing. Way to go son, and... thank you!

Love,

Your Proud Mommy

P.S. I love you so much too.

P.S.S. I think it's super cute that you are catching on to my dot-dot-dots...

No spring sphere, here!

I was busy doing some charting one day at the Nurse's station and a transporter was killing some time at the desk waiting for his patient to get ready. So he picks up one of the many Easter Eggs sitting in this basket in front of me and looks at it. He asks me if I know the new name of the Easter Egg, since what we call it isn't politically correct... it's now the spring sphere. He not only killed time, but killed my Easter spirit for a brief moment. I probably gave him a weird look, my apologies now.

I have to admit I never really knew what the Easter Egg truly meant, until my little cupcakes told me so. They learned this at church Easter Sunday. They probably learn this every Easter, but decided to bring the information home to mom this time. "Mom, the Easter Egg represents life." say my dear babes. Then, whah-la, my Easter spirit is fully back... thank you. We all got the opportunity to paint, color, and put some stickers on these little life representers with Great Grandma and Grandpa before the headed back to the mid-west.

By the way, church and the Easter Sunday Sermon was nothing short of prodigious. It all started with these two handsome men, so adorable mom could eat them alive. I told them they are seriously going to have to watch out for the girls this morning, even those sweet church girls. They knew it, which was even cuter.

The message was about scars. We are all destined to receive them, healing and what we do with the situations put before us is a choice. Everything happens for a reason. It can be a blessing when you learn to live broken for a while. For it's a shallow life- one without scars. It was touching words and made me so very thankful for not only my scars but His.

After service I had a juicy turkey in the oven and a houseful to share it with. Dinner was almost as good as the message. Since we have a trip coming up I decided to do something a little different for the boys. Instead of baskets this year I got the boys luggage with little gifts wrapped up in each pocket. We had a non-spring sphere hunt at dusk... which forced me to crack that the Easter bunny wasn't real. The boys are getting older, plus the evening hunt brought on too many questions for logical answers about why the bunny didn't hide the eggs and why didn't he do this in the morning like usual. They kind of already knew... it kind of made me sad. Though the Easter Bunny isn't real, it made the true meaning of Easter more real... and that, is kind of more special. Happy Easter!

The Birds and the Bees

I'm not the only one trying to make my house a home lately. I will start with the pleasant. I have enjoyed more than ever having my front door open. There is this sweet little bird who likes my eucalyptus wreath that sits upon a peg on my security door. He perches himself right at the top and chirps away. I wished I knew what he was telling me... I think he was calling all bees though. I was in my kitchen when S. Stink goes, "Mom, there's a wasp in the house!". Sure enough there one was... in my very kitchen, on the chandelier. My girlfriend and I freaked for a minute, then figured out how we were going to get this thing out of the house. I had some spray but getting close enough to spray it was another thing I didn't want to grasp. So there I go, hopped up on a chair getting the guts to spray this thing with frights that it's just going to attack me and sting the pita chips out of me. Candace opened the back door, and I... just did it. I did it and there it flew, gracefully out of my back door into my backyard. I wasn't the one being so graceful though, and neither were the three boys huddled in the hallway waiting to see what happens and if mom gets stung. After the tension built up and I had the courage to shoot spray I screamed, and flew off of that chair to go hide in the other room. Only I couldn't get to the room because the boys had the same idea. They all ran into each other tripped and caused a dog-pile in the entryway of the room I tried to go in. We were all a little wimpy and there was Candace calmly saying, "There, there it went." Figuring out where it came from and how it got into the house though was just as scary. It came from the home it was making by my front door along with a couple other wasps and my favorite bird. That's where I drew the line. I could try and tackle one, but I'm not touching, trying or thinking about getting a home of wasps down. So great Grandpa came over with Candace's same calm attitude and flicked it down with a broom, and that was that. No more bees! Then there is my garage of tarantulas. There are only two classifications of spiders to me. All the black ones are black widows and brown ones are recluses... and I treat them all like so no matter what they really are. I can't stand them. My uncle was doing some re-arranging in my garage for me and got one when I wasn't home thankfully. But I found it's big friend in the next couple of days. I got my handy dandy spray and stood there, spraying more than half of the bottle on him to make darn sure this was his last day in my garage. I got a great April Fools joke that another wasp was in the house, courtesy of Stink and Benny. I believed them and it brought on terrible flashbacks. I didn't care for that but it gave me a good giggle. I haven't heard my dear Mr. Bird and his lovely songs since though. I really do miss that bird, but surely not his posse. I set the boundaries and those poor home-makers are all gone... and a sincerely good riddance to them.

Benny's Bank

We woke up to the sound of rain this morning... it was hours full of beautiful moments. The boys wanted to continue watching Ghostbusters in my bed. We all fell asleep last night in the middle of watching this. I woke up though, at a wee hour to hear a kurplunk, collar jingle and a whine with the not so quiet TV in the background. Benny fell off the bed... in Pursie's smelly spot she sleeps in, and on her. He climbed back into my bed and I held my baby tight, right back to his peaceful sleep. I was in love holding him but that Ghostbusters theme song that was blasting over the TV on the DVD title screen was getting to me... I'm still humming it in my head today and feeling like I could even bust a ghost myself. I was glad to firmly press the power button and continue in my own sleep after all that. This morning, during our morning snuggles and the gentle sound of rain somebody was missing in action: Benny's Bank. I had a feeling I knew where it was. I looked in Pursie's dog spot, and there it lye. I reminded him of the episode including him taking a trip down to floor last night. He didn't remember it at all, didn't believe me, and thought I was joking. I shared with him how he had a slight scent of our old girl as I held him back to sleep. I also showed him the evidence of Bank on the floor, bundled up with Pursie. I knew he believed me at that time. I rescued Bank from the old dog pit and returned it to our nest. He didn't want anything to do with it... in fact Benny was mad. He was mad that he went to that spot and mad that his precious Bank went there too. So mad that he wanted nothing to do with his blanket, and nothing to do with my snuggles. He demands, "Mom go wash it." Benny is my nit-picky son and his blanket just wasn't in it's usual state. Grandma Carlson made him this blanket when he was born. As you can see he loves it. It's been dragged through just about everything, caught on a lot, and I'm sure the culprit of a couple colds. But it's a part of his security and soothes him almost as good as his mom. Bank was in rare form though this AM. It had been with Pursie all night, which I'm sure she loved. I would. It ferments of Benny's sweet baby smells... still to this day. But this morning the typical "bank aura" was off, and it didn't fly with Benny. So I decided to share with him, over the soft rain, why it's so special this morning. Pursie is a part of our family and she can't get up on our bed anymore... so now we have her love in a different form for our oh so special snuggles this morning. Well, as sweet as it sounded to me, that didn't cut it for him. So S. Stink and I snuggled with Bank hoping to spark some jealousy, and nope, that didn't work either. He still didn't want it. Bribery with breakfast in bed sure did the trick though... it was a smokin' deal. He thought so too because it brought him, his beloved blanket and all of our loves back into my arms, and... with a smile. Happy Saturday... :)