I Am Super Lucky

There is not a moment that goes by that I do not feel an immense amount of gratitude for the life I am able to live.  I am fully aware and in awe of the blessings I have been given and I try very hard NOT to take them for granted.

One of the blessings I treasure is a friendship that I have had since preschool.  I think I've mentioned my childhood friend before and how a pair of red patent leather Mary Jane shoes

 inspired a friendship of 33 years.  

I've been thinking of that friend a lot lately.  She's apparently been thinking of me too because as I was putting together a fruit salad for Administrative Assistant Appreciation Day at my children's school,  I saw an unfamiliar van pull up to the door.  I soon noticed a sticker in the window indicating it was from a flower shop.  I opened the door and the delivery person asked if I was Jennifer and then he handed me a lovely flower arrangement.  My first thought was that my husband really surprised me but I opened up the card to read that it was from my dear friend, and she sent flowers to simply let me know that she was thinking of me.  That small gesture made me feel so special it brought me to tears.  

I am remiss in keeping in touch with her frequently, mostly because of this

this 

and this

but when we are able to get together, I always feel so much better having reconnected with the friend who has known me almost as long as my parents have.  It's a pretty amazing experience and I am grateful for the blessing.  

Thank you, Keely, for being such an amazing woman and my lifelong friend.  

The Pioneer Woman

Yesterday was one of the most anticipated days of my life.  Aside from my wedding day and the birth of my four children, that is.

Ree Drummond, most known as "The Pioneer Woman" came to Pittsburgh for a book signing and I stalked got to meet her!  

I got up bright and early at the crack of 7:30 am (for me that is early) to get house stuff done so I would be ready to meet my hero!  I got the laundry put away, the dishwasher unloaded and got all dolled up to go meet her.  I had several text message consultations with my mom and sisters regarding my wardrobe and shoe choices.  I got out the new top I bought Saturday, my old trusty jeans, shoes, purse, etc and laid out on the bed waiting for the exact right time to get dressed (ie:  about 20 seconds before I left the house or else I'd also be wearing a bunch of someone else's snot, spit, food and dirt).

I met my best friend, Katie, along the way and after a few extra excursions, we were off!

We got to Sewickley at around 3:00 and managed to find parking pretty easily.  I parked at a meter, forgot to put a quarter in the meter, stood in line for a while, realized I didn't put money in the meter, only managed to find one quarter, which Katie graciously walked back to the car and put the quarter in the meter buying me only half an hour, and hence got a $5 parking ticket!

As we drove Beaver Street in our attempt to find the bookstore, I admit, based on blogs I'd read from PW's previous book tours, I totally expected there to be traffic lining the streets, women everywhere and a line about a mile long waiting to meet PW.  But it wasn't bad at all.  We parked and got into line with about 50 or so people in front of us.  As we waited, the book store owner came out with small bottles of water and suggested that if we didn't already have a copy of the book to go inside and purchase one now.  Since I didn't have a copy of the new cook book, I went in and bought mine and ended up running into my Aunt Bonnie and cousin, Amy!  They had said they were going to come out to the signing, but I didn't expect them to be the first in line!  I chatted with them a minute and then got my book and headed back to the line.  

This is a look at the line from where Katie and I were standing.  The book store is the shop on the right with the black awning.  Not too bad of a wait.  We arrived at 3:00 and at 3:30, true to their word, the book store began coming out and distributing numbers for admission.  Katie and I were 66 and 67 or 67 and 68.  

I accidentally got this picture, but I'm posting it because the young girl in the front of the picture won the last PW giveaway of the Frye boots!  JEALOUS!  Although I'd like to win one of the cooking give aways - or one of those trips to the Lodge!

When I bought my copy of the cookbook, they put a post it note on it with the spelling of your name (or whomever you were having the book inscribed for).  My amazing little sister got me my first PW cookbook and she sent the book all the way to Pawhuska to have Ree sign it and ship it back to me.   The inscription was so perfect b/c my sister had written a letter to her describing me.  The inscriptions says:

Love to Jen from the ranch!  Kiss those farm kids for me. : ) Ree/PW

Sigh.  How perfect, right?

So this time around in my head I was thinking I could get another amazing inscription - something like,

Love to Jen - The Pennsylvania Pioneer Woman and my new best friend forever.  

Then she would invite me to join her, Marlboro Man and her kids for dinner in the city and we'd become fast friends and start taking monthly trips to Oklahoma to visit the Lodge.  Erik would fulfill his dream of wrestling steers and I would fulfill my dream of, well - I'm not sure what dream I would fulfill  - but my kids would fulfill their dreams of riding horses everywhere.  

But here's the thing about being a stalker without any psychopathic tendencies.  I was too scared to even think about having her inscribe more than my name!  So I chickened out and just made the inscription "Jennifer." 

 L - A - M - E! 

We're at the doorway to the bookstore!  At this point I'm getting nervous.  It's intimidating to get to meet a celebrity.  I started panicking because I knew I only had a few seconds to speak to her and I had to get everything I wanted to say out without taking too much time.  Most importantly, I had to tell her that my Willie J and I watch the Food Network show and Willie, taking after his Momma, imagines himself to be good friends with her sons, Bryce and Todd.  In fact, he thought I was actually going to her house on Monday to meet her and was quite upset that I was not taking him with me.  I was given strict instructions to invite Bryce and Todd to our house.

This was a little display that the book store had put up about Ree's visit.

At this point, Ree is just a short flight of steps away from us!  Luckily, the bathroom was even closer and I sneaked in to primp.  Imagine if you will, Katie standing to my right, laughing a little bit at me b/c I'm so nervous and even though I asked her if I looked OK and she responded, "Yes," I still had to go into the bathroom to check my hair and reapply lip gloss.  

I kept looking at the sign and checking and re-checking my books and ticket.  And I was still debating whether what I had written for the inscription for the "Charlie the Ranch Dog" book was what I wanted.  Willie is really the only kid who has been interested in the PW cooking show, but if I had the book inscribed only to him, the other kids might be jealous.  But, Willie is the only one who would really appreciate it.  

I was also hoping at this point that Marlboro Man and the kids would show up.  Due to Willie's love of the show, I was hoping that they would magically appear (this wasn't just my imagination - there was rumor that they were going to be at the book signing at some point) and I would get Bryce and Todd to sign the book too!  AND I would take a picture of them for Willie.  I would be an amazing hero mom and Willie would have physical evidence that I did something special for him.  But, MM and the kids didn't show up while we were there and all my hopes were dashed!

Finally!  We're upstairs and I am in sight of Ree!  At this point Katie turns to me and says that she doesn't really need to meet PW, that I should have her sign all my books (I had given Katie one of the books to get signed so she would have a chance to meet her too) and she wanted me to have all the time to talk to PW myself.  She would just take pictures!  I did protest and try to get her to keep the book, but she said no - this was my thing and she would let me have my "moment."  I was so touched at her generosity and since it was offered, I took the gift!

It's finally my turn and Katie starts snapping away!  I was so nervous because I kept running through my head all the things I wanted to say, but knowing that PW doesn't really care that I want to tell her that our lives are eerily parallel (well, except for me marrying into a wealthy cattle baron's family and then writing best selling books and having a blog that generates 1 million dollars a year just from ad revenue) and that 15 years ago, I thought by now I'd be married to some sort of suit wearing man, living in a plush McMansion in the suburbs with a part time career as a therapist out of the office in the apartment over the garage but instead, I married a guy who went to school to be a youth pastor but instead became a landscaper who really wanted to be a farmer and we moved out to the funny farm where we had a four children who don't understand the English phrase of TAKE OFF YOUR MUDDY BOOTS BEFORE YOU WALK THROUGH THE HOUSE, baby goats sleeping in my laundry room, dogs out the wahzoo, ducks swimming in my pool and various Burmese customers who stick live chickens in sacks and drive them home in their Honda Accords.

I did not tell her all of that.  I let her think I was a nice normal girl.

I did manage to tell her that she probably hears this all of the time, but I am the PA version of her.  That I imagined I'd be living a pretty cushy life and instead we bought a farm and are making it work.  We discussed what we raised here on the farm and she said she thought it was pretty cool the way Western Pennsylvania has this major city but all of these pockets of rural area so close.

And then I told her that my boy Willie J and I watch her TV show all the time and that he wants to invite her boys over to play.  She was very sweet and said she was sure if they were there they would want to play with him and "next time we're in town. . ."

And then it was over in an instant.  I don't think I drooled over her too much, but I probably made a fool of myself.  I will remember it forever!  Ree was sweet and funny and kind and didn't seem to be irritated at all with my stack of three books or that I was talking her ear off!  It was one of the most fun days of my life and I have to thank my wonderful husband for being home to manage the kids and my BFF for letting me have my moment with my hero.    

Then we left and went shopping for dress for my sisters wedding in June and we ate dinner at the Cheesecake factory.  OH!  And I found a honey dipper at Williams Sonoma.  It's probably the cheapest thing there and it works perfectly!  The day was complete!
The next day, Willie J was a little upset with me because I didn't bring Bryce and Todd home to play with him.  I showed him his signed copy of Charlie the Ranch Dog and instead of being so excited to see the book, he opened up the new cook book and started pointing out all of the pictures of Bryce and Todd.

"Look, Momma!  There's Bryce on a horse."

Thus another crazy stalker fan is born.

Lousy Parents

Erik and I are lousy parents.

We didn't teach any of our three oldest kids to ride their bikes.

But somehow, they all managed to learn to ride a bike without training wheels before they were five years old.

In fact, just tonight, Will jumped on Maggie's old bike and started to ride it.  WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS!  Literally, he jumped on the bike, pushed off with his feet and started riding.  I wasn't paying any attention and Walker started yelling, "Mom! MOMMA!  LOOK AT WILLIE!" and I turned to look at this little blur whizzing by me on a pink bike.


It's another bittersweet milestone here at Goodness Grows Farm.  Luckily I ran inside to grab the camera and get it on tape!

This guy is going to be the death of me!  But I love him more and more every day!  Here's a series of pictures of our Willie J.  His sister took the first one, but all the rest are self portraits.  (Sorry about the boogars).

Disappointment Averted

I have been looking forward to an upcoming event in Pittsburgh like you can't believe.

This event has me at the level of anticipation I haven't felt since I was a tween and my parents got my sister and me tickets to see "Tiffany" at the Clearfield County Fair.



What event has me in a tweenish-twitter?


THE PIONEER WOMAN!

That's right!  She's coming to Pittsburgh!

Given the level of anticipation and excitement I have regarding this event, you can imagine how my heart dropped when I went to the Barnes and Noble website today and saw that the event had been CANCELLED!  I seriously thought I was going to be a little sick.

I called the store to confirm the disappointing news and all she could tell me was that the event was cancelled at her store but it was still happening SOMEWHERE IN PITTSBURGH!

What?  Granted, Pittsburgh is a small city, but you can imagine how many bookstores are in the greater Pittsburgh area!

Thankfully, the PW website has a book tour schedule and I was able to find the new venue information relatively easy.

I've still got The Pioneer Woman on my schedule for Monday, March 19.

I'm so excited.  It's ridiculous how excited I am to see her.  Like, so excited that my imagination is running away with the thought that if I don't share the fact that the venue has been changed for the event, people won't find out about it and I will be the only person to show up for the book signing.

Seriously?  What is wrong with me.  And how scary is that thought!?  Don't be scared, Ree.  I promise, I'm pretty normal.

Disappointment Averted.  I can continue with enjoying this beautiful, warm, sunny day.

If You Tell Your Wife You've Planned A Date Night

If you tell your wife you've planned a date night . . .

She will be very excited but will immediately think of a million little chores that need to be done before she can leave.

First, she will bundle up her children in clothes suitable for sunny, yet cold and windy March weather and she will ship them outside with the threat of "Don't come back to this house until I call you for lunch!"

Then, she will sweep the floor (even though she just did it yesterday).

She will do laundry (even though she just did it yesterday).

She will clean out the refrigerator to see what ingredients she has to make dinner for the children and her in-laws (who are graciously babysitting).  She decides she will make a chicken parmesan pasta.

She will note in the clean out process that the refrigerator is basically full of condiments and juice, so she will go to her desk to write down a list of some things to buy at the store on date night.

Once at the desk, she will remember to look at her carefully plotted out menu planner and see that she had written down "Chicken Pot Pie with Cheesy Biscuit Topping" on the space for today and will re-think her plan to make Chicken Parmesan Pasta.

She will then go to the kitchen and search for the recipe she wrote down for the Chicken Pot Pie with Cheesy Biscuit Topping and will decide to go ahead and cook the chicken quarters now.  After all, they are what must be cooked for the recipe - everything else can be decided later.

She will season the chicken and puts it in the oven.

She will find the recipe for the Chicken Pot Pie with Cheesy Biscuit Topping, review it and realize she does not have buttermilk for the biscuits and debate whether she should just make buttermilk with vinegar and milk or look for the other cheesy biscuit recipe that she has.

She will then look for the other Cheesy Biscuit recipe, find it and return to her desk.

Then she will look at her meal planner again and realize that she has planned a complicated meal for Thursday night - the busiest night of the week.  She then erases the original meal and grabs a pencil to write in a new, less complicated one (like Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches).

When she grabs the pencil, she finds out that the pencil is not sharpened.  She grabs another and another, and none of them are sharpened.

She grabs an entire handful and takes them to the craft cabinet where she gets out the electric sharpener, plugs it in and inserts the first pencil to be sharpened.

She will not hear the whirring of the sharpener.

She will hear the oven timer go off and realize that it is time to flip the chicken, so she goes to the oven, flips and seasons the other side of the chicken and returns it to the oven to cook.

She will look into the pencil opening and realize that her four year old son had inserted a pencil ERASER first into the sharpener and got the eraser stuck in the sharpening mechanism.

She will unplug the sharpener and look for a pair of needle nose pliers to try to pull the eraser out.

After minutes of desperate searching, she will not find the needle nose pliers.

She will search for the miniature screw driver set she received at Christmas from one of her children.

She will not find it.

She will locate a screwdriver that she thinks will be appropriate and it will not work.

She will then gather ALL of the screwdrivers she can find which takes her to several different drawers in the kitchen, a few bedrooms, the linen closet and the laundry room.

She will finally find ONE screwdriver that will work.

She will then dismantle the pencil sharpener, and find the metal eraser cap is stuck inside the mechanism and cannot be maneuvered out with a screwdriver.

After some thinking, she will realize the only tool she has that will potentially work is a pair of manicure scissors.

She will go back upstairs and locate the manicure scissors.

She will use them to somehow manage to get that blasted metal top with the eraser OUT of the sharpening mechanism, get it all screwed back together on her first attempt and will then sharpen five pencils.

She will walk back to her desk and on the way see that someone had eaten Saltine crackers for breakfast and smashed several of them into the carpet.

She will ignore it.

She will sit down at the desk to finish what she started.

She will forget what she had started.

Just as she feels like she is on the brink of remembering why she sat down at the desk in the first place, she will hear the oven timer will go off again, indicating that another 15 minutes have passed.

She will go check the chicken.

She will then hear the buzzer on the dryer indicate the clothes are dry.

She will remove the clothes from the dryer,  insert the clothes from the washer, and start a new load of clothes in the washer.

She will realize it is almost lunch time and she has no idea what she is going to feed the kids.

She will open up the refrigerator, realize that the refrigerator is basically full of condiments and juice, and will remember that she had gone to her desk originally to write down a list of some things to buy at the store on date night.

She will then sit down and write a blog post about how she basically wasted the last hour and a half.

And that's what happens if you tell your wife you've planned a date night!

Trying Not To Get Excited

I'm a big fan of winter.  I like that it gets very cold and snows.  From December 1 to March 1 I would love for it to be about 20 degrees with at least an inch or two of snow covering the ground constantly.

Most people do not appreciate my view on Winter, which I can understand, but I still enjoy waking up to a blanket of white.  I know I am kind of prejudiced towards a typical winter, given Erik's winter profession providing snow removal, but it really doesn't have as much to do with our income as it does my hatred of mud.

I  HATE  MUD!

Hate it!

There's not a square inch of ground on our 40 acres that is without mud.  Most days, that includes my house.  It makes me nuts!  The amount of work mud creates for me is unbelievable.  Everyone in the house requires at least two changes of clothes per day.  Willie J, of course, requires at least three or four.  No one respects my boundaries of TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF AT THE DOOR and I frequently find someone traipsing through the house with muddy boots on.  Apparently, having mud caked boots is the only time my family remembers the rule:  If you need to talk to me, come find me.  Don't stand there and just shout "MOMMA!" If you are perfectly clean and want me, by all means, stand in your bedroom and yell for me when I'm down in the laundry room up to my elbows shouting out all of our mud stained clothes.  But if you are covered in mud and most likely manure and want me, please, by all means walk STOMP all through the house as you search for me.  Especially if I am in the upstairs bathroom.  There's nothing I love more than being disturbed during my bathroom break.  Unless of course, it's coming out of the bathroom to find a trail of mud down the stairs, through all the downstairs rooms and back to the laundry room where you are now taking off all of your muddy gear.

However, as we approach spring, I am looking forward to the warmer days and I'm getting used to the mud.  Although our cellar has a lot to be desired, we set it up over the weekend for the kids to be able to enter through the basement door, disrobe of their muddy attire, and come upstairs through the basement.  It has cut down on the mud considerably this weekend, which was especially important as I had spent the entire week thoroughly cleaning the house.  Like, moving furniture and washing baseboards kind of cleaning.  Three days in and we're holding pretty well.  I only had to sweep four times today and I didn't have to run the vacuum at all.

I'm also getting kind of excited over the fact that we may actually have a real Easter break.  Our school is scheduled to have the Wednesday before Easter through the Tuesday after off as part of their building in snow days into the schedule just in case.  We haven't even had a delay this year, which has been kind of sad, but I had looking forward to this potentially long break.

That was until I was reminded of the Ides of March.  This particular phrase has always stuck with me from High School - I want to say it was 10th grade - when we read Julius Caesar in English class.  In modern times, the term Ides of March is best known as the date on which Julius Caesar was killed in 44 B.C. Caesar was stabbed (23 times) to death in the Roman Senate by a group of conspirators led by Marcus Junius Brutus and Gaius Cassius Longinus. The group included 60 other co-conspirators according to Plutarch.^[2]
According to Plutarch, a seer had foreseen that Caesar would be harmed not later than the Ides of March and on his way to the Theatre of Pompey (where he would be assassinated), Caesar met that seer and joked, "The ides of March have come", meaning to say that the prophecy had not been fulfilled, to which the seer replied "Ay, Caesar; but not gone."^[3] This meeting is famously dramatized in William Shakespeare's play Julius Caesar, when Caesar is warned by the soothsayer to "beware the Ides of March."^[4][5]  

This sticks with  me because during my late high school years, the Ides of March (March 15) is the day before my mom's (and now Maggie's) birthday and we had two years of very bad blizzards around the Ides of March.  So I always associate the Ides of March with blizzards.  Last year was not too different as I discovered as I went through some pictures from last year.  I found these, taken March 11, 2011.

What a difference the snow makes.

I'll curb my enthusiasm for a while in anticipation of what could happen with the Ides of March, but I'll be enjoying these amazing, warm February days as we head into Leap Day.  And if March 2012 COMES IN and GOES OUT like a lamb, I won't complain!

Old Yeller

I'm a yeller.

I hate to admit it, but it's the truth.  I am embarrassed by it and you would think with the amount of education I have I would know better than to yell.  I do know better and I still resort to it.  Every time I do it, I feel guilty.  I promise myself and my children and God that I won't do it again and within minutes (often times seconds) I am yelling again.  It is ugly and it's not the mother I want to be.

Yesterday, after reading an email devotional and a lovely morning with my Book League girls commiserating about our "failures" as parents, I was left with guilt on my heart for my behavior.  I try to ignore it by blaming the behavior of my children, but it isn't their fault.  Although, I would wager that ANYONE  left with Willie J long enough will concur that it might be  a little bit his fault.  It left me with a fear that someday the children will look back on our time together and not know that  I cherished everything they brought to me, good and bad.  I am not ignorant to the fact that this is all my  perspective of the situation.  An outsider may look in at our house and think that my children are behaving completely appropriately and think (rightly so) that I'm over-reacting a little.  Most days, the "little" things are easy to ignore and I am not the crazy lady yelling at her kids ALL of the time.  But there are days when I feel like the bad is outweighing the good, when I have four half naked heathens running around with uncombed hair, dirty faces, toys strewn EVERYWHERE, eating their food with their hands and screaming just to hear themselves scream.  Days when I swear I could have put the following phrases on a loop and left the house because my presence was never felt.   Time honored phrases such as:

STOP TOUCHING HER.

STOP TOUCHING HIM.

I SAID STOP TOUCHING HER.

IF HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH YOU, WHY DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO TOUCH HIM?

EVERYONE KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!

STOP TOUCHING ME!

I JUST WASHED THAT!

DON'T EAT THAT!

DON'T PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH!

NO!

I SAID NO!

IF I HAVE TO SAY NO AGAIN, I SWEAR . . .  

and I wonder if anything I am doing as a parent is doing anything to help these children grow into respectable, independent, productive adults.

It's so easy for me to resort to yelling and in doing so I'm not only harming my children in terms of hurting their feelings, I'm harming them because my yelling is empty parenting.  Yelling is me not wanting to take time to deal with the situation hands on and that's bad parenting.  So I'm resolving to do better by myself and my children.  Each morning, I will try to turn to God and ask Him for guidance to parent with wise words and a kind heart.  To take the time to parent with love and attention - the key factor being the attention.   So frequently, I am distracted by the things I need to be doing that don't involve my kids that I put off their requests until I am a broken record of  maybe, later, not now,  and tomorrow.   I want to turn to God to help me control my yelling and help me to convey to my kids my appreciation so they know how much I adored every single second I was blessed to spend with them.  

Because even though there are moments that I think I'm going to lose it, I have the privilege of being Momma to these precious ones and I am so very thankful.  So here are some photos of the very precious moments I find with my children.  

 Maggie on a recent trip back to my hometown.  Maggie is growing her hair out for my sisters wedding in June and it is just in an ugly phase.  She's got a crazy curl at the back of her neck which prevents her hair from being completely straight, but the top layers of her hair are completely straight and, well, it's really just a mess.  She's perpetually wanting to wear her hair down and I am constantly pulling it back into pony tails, pig tails and braids.  Some days she wants her hair "cwurled" and I oblige, but the "cwurls" just don't last.  I'm hoping a professional stylist will be able to get her hair to stay curled for the wedding day.

Whitaker raids the Valentine candy!

Lollipop, candy hearts and a book.  What more do you need?  Except two incisors?  This boy has his two year molars, but no incisors.  I'm starting to wonder if he might be a vampire since he only grew in fangs.

A beautiful day in February and the boys go for a ride on Willie's motorcycle.  This was such a precious day for me.  Willie struggles a lot with sibling rivalry in terms of over doing it with Whitaker.  He doesn't come out and hit him or be overtly mean to him.  Instead he loves on him too much.  He gives that extra long squeeze during a hug or pulls Whit along instead of holding his hand.  I've tried giving Willie lots of Momma time in the afternoon when Whit is asleep, but it hasn't been working.  On this day, I allowed Willie to take his new motorcycle outside to ride and he generously offered to take Whit with him and they enjoyed a great day together.  Will also took Whit to the swing set and he pushed Whit on the swings which was so sweet to watch.  

Willie is afraid to sleep by himself sometimes so he crawls up into the loft with Walker.  Walker never ever complains and he always makes room for him.  Even though Willie insists on sleeping like this!

Maggie and Willie love to pretend play mom and dad.  On this day, they were playing "Mary and Jofas."  (Joseph)  They complained that the towels they were using kept falling off, so I secured them with some old scarves.  I was a hero!

Whitaker isn't so happy about taking a picture with his Momma.

Walker on his actual 8th birthday.  We went to Dairy Queen to get whatever he wanted . . . a banana split.  Of which, he ate only the vanilla ice cream and the hot fudge.  Next time maybe he'll trust me when I say, "Why don't you just get a hot fudge sundae?"  He got the birthday crown at school that day and then I was surprised he wore the crown to the YMCA that night for his rock climbing club.  I have been anticipating the age of embarrassment coming upon him, but so far, he is still young enough to want people to know it is his birthday and do little boy things.  Even though he is growing into quite a little man.

Most nights the kids all want to sleep together.  We limit it during the week, but on weekends, they all want to sleep in the loft bed together.  So far, no one has fallen out!

Whitaker joined me in bed one morning with two chocolate chip pancakes and some cheerios.
He didn't share.

Willie and I baked cookies together for Valentine's Day.  He cracks me up with the towel on his shoulder just like me.  After we took this picture together, he spent about five minutes petting my face.  Willie is a petter and must always pet me.  I sometimes get annoyed by it - especially when I am not sure where his hands have been, but it's also one of the most uniquely "Willie" qualities he has. We baked the cookies and decorated them with Maggie and Walker and then the kids gave them to their classmates on Valentine's day.

For dessert on Valentine's Day, I made ice cream cookie sandwiches and we had heart shaped strawberries.

I don't know how they sleep like this!

My sweet angels!

Walker and his buddies on the way to Pittsburgh to see a movie at the Science Center.

Walker and his buddies after about 20 trips to the chocolate fountain bar!

Willie and Maggie get to have a slumber party in Maggie's room.  Willie is ALWAYS hot and takes his PJs and covers off.  Maggie is a bed hog and a crazy sleeper.

When I go in to check on Whit before bed, I never know what I'm going to find.

This night he looks like he's holding his crib up.

This night, he had to hide under his donkey.

Walker was surprised with a DS from his Nana for his birthday.  For some reason, he decided to sit in the doorway and play with it.  I think it was because I had suggested he might want to go outside to play.  I guess he misinterpreted what I meant by that.

As I proof read this post and review the pictures, I realize that most of the pictures I posted are of the kids sleeping.  Hmmmm. . . I suppose that's a little bit telling of where I've been lately in terms of where I find the most peace, but I am blessed with the gift of tomorrow.  A chance to do better as a mother.  A day with no mistakes.  A new day to give to my children what they are truly asking for and to show them my appreciation for their uniqueness.

Another day to thank God for the blessings those little critters are to my life.