Sadly it would take a read-a-thon to drive me to read 1000+ minutes in a month to my children. Tate's reading improved by leaps and bounds.

Among his favorites:

Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss

Fly Guy by Tedd Arnold

Ride Otto Ride by David Milgrim

E wanted butterflies for her b-day.

Butterflies she got.

Or should I say butterflies she will get.

"What fathers and mothers do for the building of

character, security, and personal identity

in their children,

at any given moment throughout a day,

cannot be replicated anywhere.

The work of the home is the greatest contribution

men and women can give to the following generation."

-SEEING THE EVERYDAY

My bf and sis in law Lauren shared this with me.

It was the insight I was searching for.

The reassurance I needed.

To close a chapter in my life.

It's all about not looking back.

Focusing on what the future holds.

And forgiving. Others. And Ourselves.

Remember Lot's Wife.

Find a quiet time this weekend & watch it.

Swear you will!?

No matter who you are.

Or what religion you do or do not choose to follow.

It's just down right good advise.

The most profound part for me was at least ten minutes in.

So stay with it.

Down came the shed.

I felt like a homemaker as I watched from kitchen window...

The men working outside.

Normally I jump into grueling labor.

It felt good to be in the kitchen cooking dinner for a change.

The change being me enjoying cooking.

I've been doing it lately, and guess what I've found out!?

It's actually quite enjoyable!

Imagine that.

I especially love the last line.

If I had my child to raise all over again,

I'd build self-esteem first, and the house later.

I'd finger-paint more, and point the finger less.

I would do less correcting and more connecting.

I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.

I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.

I'd stop playing serious, and seriously play.

I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.

I'd do more hugging and less tugging.

-Diane Loomans

Ella introduces herself as batgirl.

She came home from nursery and her paper was signed:

"Ella, aka batgirl"

Making Lime Juice.

3 limes

2/3 cup white sugar

8 cups cold water

(I like it a little stronger and add 71/2 cups water)

cut limes in half and squeeze lime juice into a 2 qt. pitcher.

add sugar and stir until dissolved.

fill pitcher with cold water, stir and chill in refrigerator.

mmm!

I hesitate to share an entry from my journal today for fear that it's too personal.

But, here it is.

In it's raw, honest, angry form:

I'm in in melt down mode right now.

Could be because it took me two hours to finally fall asleep last night. My mind was racing about my upcoming lesson on extended family relationships.

An hour after falling asleep I was awakened by Ellas cries.

It's like clock work lately. 1:45 am. 6:30 am.

Only this time it didn't end.

The next two hours were spent with off and on cries.

2:00 am time outs are never fun.

Who am I kidding - lack of sleep is never fun!

The rest of the night was spent being hit in the face, trying to get some shut eye between a sleeping child and a sleeping bed hog.

I shut down when I am tired.

I hate everything. I have thoughts of running away from my life.

Luckily, I know I am exaggerating. Again, it happens when I'm tired.

Having said that, let me be very honest here about my reality.

Ella is so difficult. She refuses everything and doesn't listen. This morning as I was getting ready she came to me with her fingers all sticky and milked over from using her hands again instead of her spoon. She does this. at. every. meal.

I flipped out. To say I am sick of it is an understatement. I am so tired of her inability to obey. I slammed my brush down. I didn't stop. I kept going until it was broken into pieces. I didn't want to stop. I wanted to continue breaking things. I watched Ella flinch away. Fear in her eyes. I thought, I am terrible.

I got up to help her.

I set her on the counter to wash her hands.

I walked away to lock myself in my room.

I wanted to be alone.

As I listened to the blowdryer humm I tried to cry.

I couldn't. I felt empty.

I listened as big brother came to little sisters rescue and sweetly offered help.

She resisted and persisted to scream.

I stayed locked up, behind my own walls.

Not wanting to, I unlocked my bedroom door and went back into the kitchen to help her. I looked her in the eyes and with mine told her she was toast if she kept it up.

She stopped.

Tate was in the bathroom waiting patiently for my help. I did so, but didn't say a word. I walked out, picked up the pile of laundry and went down stairs.

Thoughts of inadequacy drowned me. I felt so empty, so emotionless.

But it's my reality: I get tired. I turn off. Apparently it's the way I cope when I'm drained.

As I stuffed the sheets into the washer I was hit from behind.

Literally.

Tate hit me with a big hug.

As his little arms wrapped around my lower waist, squeezing me with all his might, the flood gates opened. I let my little heaven sent angel hold me while I tried to conceal my tears.

Then another miracle happened

As Tate let go of me, Ella followed his lead. She must have been watching. She gave me the sweetest hug.

She followed me upstairs and into the bathroom. Not wanting her to see me like this I tried to divert her elsewhere. She refused saying "but your my friend Mom." I cried. She cried with me. She would repeat "your my friend" as we held each other.

I got myself together. Got the kids onto something else, and again closed myself in my room.

Prayer time.

The kids peeked on me but didn't interrupt.

As I prayed for comfort, the relief I was searching for found me.

"I will be ok. I can do this. I'm just tired."

When I finished, Tate & Ella came tiptoeing in to inform me that they were also praying.

Maybe i'm pushed to a breaking point for a reason.

Maybe it isn't so bad for them to see me fall apart.

Maybe the key is letting them see how I react to it.

Maybe, just maybe, there is reason in all things after all.

P.S. No judging.

P.P.S I'm fine now. Just had to fall apart to get back up.

And I quote:

"You see that Y on the mountain? Did Jesus create it?"

Nope

"Then who did?"

My ever observant and questioning little child.

Oh how I love you.

Ella is my little budding artist.

She colors on walls, tables. You name it.

We try to keep things up and out of reach.

She has discovered paint. It's all she wants now.

This is her official painting attire.

She's ruined too many clothes.

I love the way she sits.

With her little feet tucked.

She threw a tantrum right after I took these.

She wanted my paints and I told her no.

It ended with her screaming in her room.

I've finally done it.

I've finally found the best sugar cookie recipe.

Good luck not eating them all, and then wanting to mix up another batch!

preheat oven 425

bake 5 -7 minutes

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 cup butter softened

1 cup sour cream

1 egg

2 tsp vanilla

cream above ingredients together.

add:

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

5 cups flour

mix until combined. do not refrigerate.

roll out in two batches. (I prefer them on the thick side).

cut into desired shapes. bake on cookie sheet.

be careful not to overcook.

cream cheese frosting

1 8 oz cream cheese softened

1 tsp. vanilla

2 2/3 cups powdered sugar

combine cream cheese and vanilla in med. bowl.

beat with mixer on high 3 min. or until fluffy.

add powdered sugar and beat on low speed until blended.

add milk to thin if necessary.

Have thoroughly enjoyed filling it full of unforgettable little tidbits.

Found it here.

Red and I want to go outside.

Real bad.

She would have been content without presents.

Blowing out the candles was enough.

1.2.3. What do you see?

I see a three year old smiling at me.

"Can I go to school NOW?!

Because it's soo much funner than home!" GRRR

March.

Smile at the idea of healthier habits.