Dream Come True

It's no secret that becoming a stay-at-home-home was not a choice that Jason and I made.  Almost two years ago I was laid off from my job and in three months of looking unable to find another that allowed us to keep the family/work balance that was so important to us...so I became a SAHM.

Even though unplanned, it was something I wanted very much, though.  In fact, just a few weeks prior to the layoff while on a vacation in Kansas City I caught a glimpse of what I imagined to be the everyday joy of staying home during a leisurely walk with Charlie around the lake.  We had no deadline, no responsibilities, no bounds other than our imaginations and energy.  In fact, the moment was so perfect that I even took a picture of "the dream"--as I saw it. I longed for that carefree time with my son, but didn't see any hope of it becoming our daily life.

Thankfully God did,  and within 6 weeks I was unemployed.  Of course, life wasn't exactly carefree.  I still had the responsibilities of looking for a job, keeping the house clean, feeding us all, making sure Charlie had social interactions and the deadlines of mealtimes and rest times and chores... and of course the stress of a single income.  It wasn't quite what I had imagined, but over time we have adapted and come to love our new life.

Twenty-two moths later, God threw us another (albeit smaller) curve ball. I had all sorts of indoor activities planned for today due to a rainy forecast -- I was even going to repaint my badly-chipped toe nails during our rainy day movie -- but the rain dried up by 9:30 and the sun came out.  There was no way we could waste this weather indoors, so I decided that the quick trip I needed to make to Harris Teeter would become our adventure.

We got dressed, found our backpacks, locked up the dogs, jumped on Charlie's bike and took off...only to turn around as soon as we got to the greenway due to a flat front tire.  So, we came back switched the bike for the easy roller and set off again.  After 4 lengths of walking path, a handful of threats and one collision between the easy roller and my ankle, we finally made it to the store, bought our groceries and set off again -- 26 lbs. heavier (what's a girl to do when Chardonnay and her annual corned beef are on sale??).

About halfway home we saw a little boy and his dad walking through the baseball field towards the greenway.  Separated by the creek, Charlie hollered to him, "Hi!  I'm Charlie!  What's your name."

After a quick glance at his dad the boy yelled, "Ben!"

Charlie responded, "It's nice to meet you!  Where are you going?"

Ben replied, "My dad's house.  His car is broken."

So Charlie asked, "Up for a race?"  And still separated by the creek, Charlie started speed-scooting, and Ben took off running. 

Thankfully, both boys stopped at the road, where they became fast friends.  After crossing to the next path, the race was back on.  Then once they reached Sunset Drive about 100 yards ahead of me and the dad who was a ways behind me, Charlie invited Ben to try out his easy roller. 

Alas, this was Ben's street, so following a ridiculously mature farewell, ("It was sure nice to meet you."  "You, too.  Have a nice day!"), Ben was gone.  Were this a movie, the boys would soon cross paths again, become best friends and one would likely give the other a kidney or save the other from a burning building, but since Ben was with his dad, not his mom, I couldn't really suggest a play date and with Charlie going to JICC next year, they may never even meet again.

Of course, one block later we crossed paths with a little girl on a scooter to whom Charlie yelled, "Hi!  I've got wheels, too!" to her mother's delight, so I don't think I have to worry about him making friends.

And through it all, we eventually made it home with all 26 pounds of groceries (I weighed them!), and I realized that my dream from that long ago May day has come true in every possible way.  We have the life I had hoped for even though it seemed completely out of reach at the time.

To be clear, my time as a stay at home mom has brought many more "valuable" experiences like our Bible lessons, days at the plantation and Children's Museum with friends, learning to read, piano lessons, lunches with Daddy, along with weeks of frustration, arguments, back-talk, spankings and more.  But I truly believe that when I look back years from now, I will treasure the freedom and spontaneity and the time most of all.

A bunch of lies...

Sometimes (ok...most of the time) I would rather just sit on the couch than go be social.  Yesterday was one of those times, but in an effort to make more mom friends at church I badgered myself into attending the first Women's Night against my will...and thank God I did. 

I didn't meet any new moms, but I did get to know one a lot better -- myself.  Through a truly inspired sermon from our pastor, my eyes were opened to some of the lies that I hold to as truth.

Now, as a Christian lady I have read books (and even gifted them to others) about lies women believe -- good books in fact -- and had you asked me yesterday afternoon what lies I fall for, I would have smiled kindly and assured you that I am steeped in truth.  Maybe I should add that one to the list...

Pastor Russ pointed out that all sin is based on one lie or another.  If you go back to Genesis 3, the serpent convinced Adam and Eve that eating of the Tree of Knowledge was better than the Tree of Life -- that knowing good from evil was better than eternal life!  And they believed it, and we all know how well that has turned out.

But I consider myself a fairly smart lady and sitting among those women last night, I was confident at first that this message was for "them" until I learned how to identify my lies -- or more precisely the ideas/beliefs/convictions I cling to in place of God's truth:

1. What do I daydream about?
2. Where do I spend my money?
3. What have I prayed for and not received?
4. What issues/situations cause me uncontrollable emotion?
5. When am I most prone to give advice to others? (aka...where do I feel wise?)

Gradually over the past 12 hours I have realized that smart cookie that I am, I believe a lot of lies and in an effort to face them and exchange them for truth here they are in the order in which they occurred to me:

1. I have to be thin to be worth loving - by myself or anyone else
2. I am "less blessed" than women with lots of kids - Per my unscientific research, the standard number of children in evangelical Christian families is four.  We have one, and based on the fact that he is extremely secure in our love for him but still tells us we are the meanest parents in the world fairly regularly, I believe we are doing a fairly good job -- so clearly, God has just decided to bless us less than all those families with more kids.
3. I don't really have to love my enemies or even my neighbors in spite of what the Bible says -- tolerating them is enough. -  To love them would be to invest myself in their lives, their physical, emotional and especially spiritual health, and that is a lot to ask, right?
4. I'm so much more (or less) mature in my Christian walk than whoever is in front of me - I mean, I read my Bible daily, so I've got this Christian thing down compared to X, but wow, Y just quoted all of Ephesians 2 by memory -- she is so much better than me.
5. It's ok to put myself first - After all God loves me, so do I really need to put His commands to pray without ceasing, hide His Word in my heart, help my husband, raise up my child or love my neighbor ahead of my own comfort, desires, interests, etc?

Yes, I know better for each and every one, but deep down I really do believe them. 

So what now?  Do I stage an intervention with myself, gain 20 pounds and stand in front of the mirror repeating that I love myself?  Do I bake cookies and take them to all the people who annoy me?  Do I become a martyr and never do anything I enjoy so I know that I'm not putting myself first?

Most importantly, do I beat myself up for being so gullible?  No -- after all, Eve was considerably wiser than I am when the serpent tricked her -- she hadn't been degraded by a sin nature and a life of various sins --  yet still she believed that knowledge was more important than life and that God had mislead her.

In truth, I don't really know how eliminate these lies from my life, but I know it's not something I can do by hard work or strength of will or meditation or what have you.  The only cure for lies is truth.

So I will continue to read my Bible and pray to my God who created me, saved me and knows every hair on my head (the red and the white) that He will open my heart to push out these nasty lies and replace them with His truth...and then show me more lies and replace them with more truth...and so forth.

For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12)


In other words,  I will press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:14)

Are You My Mother?

A lot has happened in our lives over the past 6 months...trips hither and yon, house guests, new sports, new friends, inches grown, and so much more, but I think I will always remember Charlie's 4 year old fall and winter as the time when we tackled reading, cried, ranted, celebrated breaks and almost fell apart.

Don't get me wrong, there have been a couple high points -- when he's made small strides, but overall the experience has been painful for both of us, and I'm not sure who was more relieved when we finally finished the daily reading lessons the day before we left for Christmas in Kansas City.

But after a blissful break, I realized that unless I tied him to a chair and forced him to keep practicing, Charlie would likely forget all he'd learned long before kindergarten.  A good friend in KC advised me to just trade off reading pages of his favorite books.  To me this was an epiphany -- but both my mom and Jason's mom responded with slowly nodding "yeahs" when I shared the wonderful advice -- clearly it is common sense to more "advanced" moms.

Anyway, right after New Year's I had Charlie pick a book for the first day.  He picked Nate the Great.  A children's book, yes -- a good story, yes -- a fun read, yes -- but the crazy thing is 80 pages.  It might as well have chapters.  Stubborn as always, we started it...and as of our impromptu trip to El Paso last week, were about 75% the way through.

In an act completely out of character for me, this morning I suggested that Charlie choose a new book for us to continue our reading.  He picked...Are You My Mother?  -- a 72 page book!  I'm not sure he recognized the big issue with good old Nate.

Thankfully, these pages had much fewer words, and I even agreed to read the longer of each set of pages (again, I am sure this sounds like common sense to most moms, but in addition to cluelessness, I apparently have a bit of tyrant in me).

So we began to read...right before nap...worst time of the day...and Charlie started to smile.  After his second page he said, "This is fun."  After his fourth or fifth he said in a quiet voice, "I am a reader."  Then close to the end he said, "I am a reader!!"  And after I had him read the last (long) page, he tackled me and laughed.

Before today he has recognized letters, translated letters into sounds, put sounds into words and words into thoughts and ideas, but I think that just maybe today he took that giant leap.  I think that just maybe today he loved it!

P.S.  I just reread the entry from Dec 5.  Apparently I have thought we'd cleared this hurdle before...oh well!  I'm still going to enjoy his joy and hope for the best!

Best of Impressions

One of the biggest unknowns when we moved to West Ashley was finding a new church.  Leaving our old church in Summerville was very hard -- we love it and the people (in fact Charlie and I still attend the Ladies Bible Study), but we knew it would be important to find a church and church family much closer to our new home.

As we plan to send Charlie to James Island Christian School next year, our first stop was James Island Christian Church.  It's not the closest to our house, but still less than 15 minutes -- plus we would love for Charlie to have a real feeling of community and closeness to church family since all of our "real family" is so far.

Being me, I was fairly sure we wouldn't like it.  First, I'm incredibly picky about churches and second, it would just be too great to love the school and church equally (impressive faith, huh?). 

Well thankfully (and surprisingly) we love JICC.  The pastors are passionate about teaching the Bible and serving God and the people are very friendly.  Therein lies the one challenge though -- there are lots and lots and lots of people.  JICC is easily five time bigger than either Grace Christian Fellowship or Beth Haven.

Determined to overcome my natural anti-social behavior and meet the moms of all these kids Charlie is falling in love with in children's church, I decided to attend the ladies Christmas party Monday evening (with much encouragement from Jason). 

Since I didn't work myself up to commit to it until Monday morning, I hadn't planned my finger food or bought an ornament yet.  Thankfully we still had plenty of homemade Christmas sugar cookies, so I picked out the prettiest of those and did my best to "artfully" arrange them on a paper plate.  I waivered back and forth on the ornament, leaning towards just sitting out of the game -- but I am really trying hard to step up and be social, so I did what any forgetful mom on a budget would do: I found the prettiest, non-sentimental ornament on our tree and wrapped it up.  What could go wrong, right?

Well, apparently any social graces fail me when I leave the house without Jason or Charlie, because I managed to launch the plate of cookies across the driveway while getting in the car -- and I don't even have a four year old or groceries or ice to blame...sigh...  Amazingly the Ziploc baggie seemed to protect them, so rather than venture back in the house, I soldiered on.

I then found myself driving aimlessly through Parrot Bluff rather than Parrot Point, so I was saved from an uncomfortably early arrival, and when I did arrive I was able to tuck my cookies into the dessert table without anyone noticing and silently vow to avoid that room for the rest of the night.

I quickly found a cup of water to give me something to do with my hands, wandered aimlessly a bit to appear less awkward (brilliantly successful, I'm sure...as I more or less paced up and down a hallway).  Finally, I found a friendly looking lady near the back door and worked myself up to start a conversation.  Turns out Sherry is a lovely lady who knows almost everyone, and even introduced me to one of the key coordinators of mom events -- her daughter-in-law!  Yay!

Next I had a friendly chat with the pastor's wife in the buffet line then enjoyed the meal with Margaret, another lovely woman who assured me I don't need to -- nor will I ever -- know everyone.  I just need to find my niche.  I just adore practical advice.

Sounds like a successful evening, right?  Well, here is where that ornament comes back in... As all of the ladies gathered in the living room for the exchange and I tried to get an unobtrusive spot, I heard the hostess' daughter announce the rules..."when someone selects your ornament, you step forward and explain why you chose that one to bring..." 

What!?!?!  When does that ever happen????  The one time I regift in my life I have to own up to it immediately?!?!?!?  Uggghhh....

I contemplated just announcing that I'd brought it because it was "pretty", like many of the other women -- a true fact, then remembered that I'd confided in Leah, standing next to me that I had taken it off my tree when she admitted she wasn't participating because her husband had suggested she do the same and she refused.  Why do I have such a big mouth????

After a few rounds, a lady chose the gift bag with two Boston Terriers in Santa hats (classy, huh?) and the spotlight was on me...  I walked forward, unsure of what I would say and told the truth.  Everyone laughed kindly and to my defense, it is a really pretty ornament...but this is definitely not how I intended to start building relationships... 

It could have been any social situation I attended in 1993...at this point I'm just grateful four volcanic pimples didn't appear on my chin and my hair didn't spontaneously kink into a perm... 

Praise God that I have a socially adept husband and son to tag along with most of the time!

Ho,ho, ho!

It's no secret that we're a bit ambivalent about Santa in our house.  Don't get me wrong, we have nothing against the jolly old elf, we just classify him in a group with Frosty and the Grinch and leave the spotlight for Jesus.

 

No doubt some find it Scrooge-like, but I am proof-positive that Charlie can grow up loving Christmas even if he is a bit cynical about the man in red.  Don't worry -- I assure you that we are working on making sure he keeps his mouth shut better than his Mama did back in 1984 (a very belated apology to Ms. Jenks' second grade class -- though I have to say I still struggle with the idea of "good lies and bad lies").

 

Needless to say, Jason and I haven't put a bunch of effort into Santa in our house and up until this year it's always been a non-issue.  Each year we watch the Claymation movie, we hang him on our tree and watch glitter float around him in the snow globe then we go sit on his lap for a seasonal photo-op. 

 

But this year Charlie is starting to ask questions -- primarily about why so many adults are so concerned with what he is going to ask this stranger to bring him on Christmas.  Having vowed not to lie to him, I am trying to tread lightly and regularly falling back on my mother's privilege of just changing the subject and/or turning the question into a "well, what do you think?" moment... 

 

But let's face it, he's a smart kid who knows his mother well -- not to mention the fact that he seems to have a very similar desire to believe in realistic fairy tales.  The kid is totally on to me, but still likes to play along.  Our 2013 visit to Santa left little doubt to that. 

 

After a number of skeptical conversations through the day on Tuesday, Charlie dressed himself in his "most handsome" clothes, gamely jumped up on Santa's lap, held his smile while we waited for the dogs to look in the general direction of the camera, then requested the one gift he new would be a sure thing... a surprise.

 

I really love this kid.

 

 

Artistic Surprise

Ever since I started to sporadically attend happy hour/painting classes with girlfriends a couple years ago, Charlie has wanted to go.  After my last evening out, I decided it was time to surprise him, so I booked him at a children's class. 

All I told him was that I had a surprise for him and he had to wear clothes that could get dirty (this is the only way to prevent him wearing ties and sportscoats...).  And here he is, ready to get dirty...

En route to the surprise he tried to wheedle it out of me...

Mommy:  Are you excited about your surprise?
Charlie: Yes!  Will you tell me what it is?
Mommy: Nope.
Charlie: I think it's maybe the dollar store?
Mommy: Nope.  Better than the dollar store...
Charlie: Awwww....I don't think anything could be better than the dollar store except maybe heaven.
Mommy: It is.  I promise.
Charlie: Is it the outlet mall?
Mommy: Nope.  Even better.
Charlie: Better than the dollar store and the outlet mall?!  Is it heaven?!
Mommy: No...not that good...but still good...


When we arrived at the shop, though, it turns out we were the only people to show up.  Sarah, the owner, must have taken pity on me though when she saw my stricken face, because she went ahead and gave Charlie a one-on-one session -- after he had rousing conversation about mutton busting with her marketing representative.  It really is just fun to go places with this little man.

As the pictures prove, Charlie thankfully inherited his Daddy's and Grandma's artistic skills...in fact, while all my paintings are relegated to my closet, we're planning to hang his in the playroom.  And he's already decided that he's going to painting summer camp.  Let the fun begin!

My dear sweet boy,

You continue to amaze, impress and delight me, and there are days when I truly couldn't be more proud of you.

Of course...there are also days when I feel like I must be doing everything wrong, but I'm starting to see that if we can push through those struggles, the other side is amazing.

As you may or may not remember by the time you read this, you skipped preschool.  Basically, I really just wanted one more year with you before the demands and restrictions of school interfered, so knowing that you had learned so much during your years at daycare, Daddy and I kept you home. 

Convinced that we were doing the best thing, I was still a bit concerned that you might feel "behind" when you start kindergarten next year, and it is very important to me that you get the best start possible to your school career because I want you to continue to love to learn.  So, based on a random recommendation from a friend, I decided to teach you to read this fall -- after all, if you can read, you can learn anything. 

More importantly, as we've slogged through the lessons I've realized that the ability to read will offer you infinitely more than confidence in kindergarten.  This will sound a bit melodramatic, but I now feel like if anything happens to me before you're a grown man, I have helped you to learn the most important skill possible -- the ability to get to know God and His will for you through His Word.

It has been a very bumpy road.  We've had some amazing ups -- like when you read your first book or your first billboard, but many serious downs...crying, throwing, screaming, telling me you hate me and the book, telling me I'm the worst mom ever, losing all your shows for days on end...  Basically, I'm not the best teacher in the world and you do not like to be told what to do -- it's been interesting.

But today it was all worth it.  We were about half way through the sentences on lesson 86 (only 14 more to go!!!!), when you looked up, wide-eyed and said, "Mommy, I am so glad you bought me this book!"

Charlie, I cannot tell you how much that means to me.  As your mom, I am sure that I am inferring much more than your four year old little heart could have meant, but I heard that you realize that hard work begets success, that you recognize that Mommy & Daddy want what is best for you and will make you work for it, that you see that everything I do for you I do out of tremendous love and that you understand the importance of gratitude. 

You will likely never remember today or possibly even that we learned to read together...but please know that I couldn't be more pleased with the little boy you are or more grateful for the blessing of you.

Love,
Mommy

Waiting Days

It hit me this evening after I surreptitiously snapped a couple pictures that before too long Charlie's waiting days will be over. 

Rather waiting for Jason and I to wake up in the morning, he'll be hitting the snooze button.  Rather than waiting for me to finish pulling weeds to push him on the tire swing, he'll be off playing with friends.  Rather than waiting for me to set his lunch in front of him, he'll be off at school. 

And rather than waiting for Daddy to come home and the stars to come out, he'll be holed up in his room doing homework or at some practice or another or at a part-time job...

I will miss his waiting days.

Family Vacation

Despite the fact that there are only three of us, we live hundreds of miles from family, I stay home and Charlie isn't in school yet, Jason, Charlie and I do a really good job of staying incredibly busy...so much so that up until now we've only taken one vacation just the three of us.

Now the flip side of that is that we have met various family and friends in all sorts of wonderful places throughout the Southeast and rest of the country over the past four and a half years...so I am not complaining, but Jason and I both had a strong desire to take a little family getaway this fall.

Well, the next thing you know it was late October and we hadn't planned anything, so we scurried to book an overflow camp site at James Island County Park (6 miles from our house) for last weekend -- who knew that Charleston area campsites were booked months in advance even in the winter??? 

Then we all got sick and the temperatures plummeted, so we called back to attempt a reschedule for this weekend...despite a football game, birthday party and the Lowcountry Walk for Life...  Amazingly, they'd had a real campsite open up (not just open spot in a field), and it turns out, the best site in the park according to the camp host. 

So Jason and I spent Thursday and Friday finding, packing, loading and baking, all while watching the weather forecast.  Typically in Charleston you have either no chance of rain, a 30% chance (if they have no idea what is going to happen) or a 60% chance (if they really think it might rain for at least a few minutes in parts of the city)...but no...  Friday night had a 100% chance of rain from 11 PM to 2 AM.

We both considered cancelling.  We both really thought it was the smart thing to do.  But we both really wanted to go, so we went.

And six miles from home, in the midst of a heavy rainstorm, with a 6 hour return to "real life" during the day Saturday we had a FABULOUS vacation....and a delicious crab dinner Sunday night to top it off.  Vacation is definitely a state of mind...

Chatty Charlie

During our Thursday drive to and from Summerville for Bible Study Charlie and I had some "interesting" conversations...


To Summerville...

Following a lengthy description of "Funland", the rainbow land with no naps, candy for breakfast and no sugar-tummy where Daddy's don't have to work and everything is made out of flowers and raindrops and sunshine rainbows and clouds.

Charlie: You're really fun, Mom.
Mommy: Thank you.  You're really fun, too.  That's why we're such a good pair.
Charlie: I want to live with you.
Mommy: You do live with me, Buddy.
Charlie: But I want to live with you when I'm big.
Mommy: Well, you can talk to your wife and maybe you two can live really nearby.
Charlie: I'm scared to get married.
Mommy: Why are you scared to get married?
Charlie: [Incoherent mumbling].
Mommy: What?
Charlie: Girls will think I'm silly.
Mommy: Well, you just need to find a girl that's as silly as your mommy and she'll fit in great.
Charlie: Will I have to dance?

And back to West Ashley...

Charlie: Mom, will you hand me my black mask. Yeah!  There, there, there [as Mom gropes blindly in the backseat].  Remember how I as a cowboy?
Mommy: Yes.
Charlie: Well, now I'm a super hero.  I just put this on.
Mommy: Does it cover your secret identity like Mr. Incredible?
Charlie: Yes. 
Mommy: What is your super power? 
Charlie: My feet turn into roller skates!
Mommy: Are you Rollerboy?
Charlie: Well, in the movies they usually call "Superman Helper Spiderman".  I'm the black Spiderman.
Mommy: Really?
Charlie: And I have my own changing room where I push the button on my rollerskates.  And you just roll an inch then whoosh.  You go so fast.  Like a horse...wait no, like a car on a highway...what is faster than a car on a highway?
Mommy: An airplane?
Charlie: A jet! Fast like a jet.  Does a police jet go fast when it's trying to catch a bad guy?
Mommy: Yes.  Very fast.
Charlie: Fast like a horse police jet catching a bad guy.

Milestone

Funny isn't it...how one milestone can completely transform the day of a grumpy four-year-old and his frustrated mommy?


Charlie: I read it!

Mommy: Yes! You did! That's what we've been working for.

Charlie: I can't believe I did it!  I can't believe I read a book. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!  [Charlie tackles Mommy with a hug] I couldn't have done it without you!

The melodrama is a bit annoying at times...but at other times it's just perfect!

An explanation of sorts...

Some of our most avid readers (and by this I of course mean Jason and my mom...) have been "wondering" about the fact that Charlie updates have been so few and far between lately. 

Ummmm....well...I don't really have a good reason. 

It's not that there is nothing to write about...Charlie is interested in and learning so many new things, and we're doing lots of fun stuff with our friends.  He's started football.  He's learning to ride his bike.  He's learning to read.  We've started a new church.  He's drawing a lot....and of course, he's still talking just as much as ever.

So maybe that's it.  We're spending so much time going from little boy to big boy that I'm just too worn out to write about it?  What can I say - the more fun we have the less time I have to type it all up. 

I am overjoyed that Jason and I decided to skip preschool and have Charlie home one more year, and as much as I know he'll be more than ready for the structure and socialization of kindergarten next year, I'm already beginning to miss him...So don't be surprised if the updates remain sparse -- I need to soak in as much of my "big boy" as I can before I have to share him with the world.

Some of our recent activities:

And so it begins...

Driving down 61 en route home from the Audobon Swamp Garden...

Charlie: "Mommy, do you see that sign over there?"
Mommy: "The one right there?"
Charlie: "Yes.  I think that place is a car wash, because I read the words "car" and "wash".  And the car in the picture looks shiny."
Mommy: "Wow, buddy.  You're right.  It does say "car wash"."
Charlie: "You mean I read my first sign?  We have to tell Daddy!"

This is dedicated to my mom, dad, brother and sister who spent years in the car listening to me read signs...and Jason who spent the drive home from lasik surgery listening to me read signs...let the fun begin!

A Place in this World

Tuesday night's sleepy chat with Daddy...

Charlie: Daddy, when I grow up I'm going to love you even if I live in a different place.
Daddy: Buddy, I'm going to love you even if you live in a different place, too, but I would love for you to live in the same place as us.
Charlie: I might live in Africa...if they have houses there...
Daddy: Why do you want to live in Af---?
Charlie: No, no, no.  Not Africa.  There are wild cheetahs running around there.  Mommy told me.  Maybe I'll live in Orlando.  You can drive there.
Daddy: Hmmm...
Charlie: No!  I know.  I'll live in Virginia Beach.
Daddy: Oh?  Lakely lives in Virginia Beach, huh?
Charlie: Yeah.  [Yawn]  Maybe tomorrow Mommy and I can get my globe out and find my place.

Music Lover

Charlie walked in while I was blowing dry my hair (and it's not even a special occasion) listening to my iPod -- his latest discovery.  With a huge grin on his face he told me, "I just love this music!"

Realizing that he probably hadn't hunted through the menus to find his Bible songs, I wondered what he could be listening to...Gary Allen, The BoDeans, Sugarland, Bruce Springsteen?  Which of my favorites was he appreciating so much?

Embarrassingly enough, one of my all time favorite songs...Summer Nights from Grease...over and over again.  That's my boy!

It WAS his first rodeo...

Through day three of our annual family vacation to Texas, Jason and I were fairly sure the highlight would be the major strides Charlie made in swimming.  He can officially doggy paddle now and seems to be turning into quite a little fish.  That definitely seemed like the pinnacle of the trip...until Sunday evening.

On something of a whim, Grandma and I decided that we all should go to the rodeo in town.  Since I grew up going to more rodeos than I can count, and Jason used to work the gates for a bull-riding friend in highschool, Charlie definitely needed some rodeo exposure -- and what better place than Old El Paso?

Thankfully, on yet another whim, Grandma and I had taken Charlie to get a summer cowboy hat Saturday afternoon... (his black felt one was too hot to bring to El Paso in August)

Walking in to Justin's...
Grandma: Charlie, you have your boots, your cowboy shirt and your badge.  What one thing are you missing to be a real cowboy?
Charlie: A horse?
Grandma: No, silly!  A hat!

Choosing the right hat (and bolo) is serious business

 

So Sunday evening came, and we all headed to the El Paso coliseum.  As soon as we were through the gates a lady approached me and asked if Charlie would like to Mutton Bust.  Thrilled at the idea, Jason and I asked Charlie if he'd like to ride a sheep (we didn't so much mention the falling off part...) and he said, "Sure," so we paid our $10 and went off to ride the rides before the main event.

 

Zipping away

 

Our high flier

 

Once the rodeo, itself, began though we thought he might be getting a little nervous about his decision when Jason noticed a very serious look on Charlie's face.

 

Figuring it out

 

 

Daddy: What's going on, buddy?

Charlie: I'm just thinking.

Daddy: What were you thinking?

Charlie.  No, I am thinking.

Daddy:  Ok...what are you thinking?

Charlie: About the tricks I'm going to do on the sheep.  I'm thinking maybe a flip.

 

Clearly the bareback riding did not have him second guessing his Mutton Busting debut.  Just a few riders in, Jason and Charlie headed down to the tunnel, leaving me, Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle Jim to try to wait patiently...and me to watch the calf roping more studiously than ever before in an attempt to avoid picturing broken arms and concussions...Jason's text from below didn't exactly help...

 

Ready to Ride

 

Finally it was time.  Grandma and I raced to the rail to get good shots while Charlie waved from the sea of cowboys down below.

 

So little but feels so big!

 

There was no turning back now...

 

(Please ignoring the crazy screaming mom...)









Daddy: Good job, buddy!  What did you think?

Charlie: Can I do it again? I think I can go further.

Sadly, by the time he made it up to our seats and dumped the dust out of his boots, the very last contestant had beat him by about two yards, and Charlie had decided he no longer liked Mutton Busting, because, "I didn't get the trophy!"

Nonetheless, he could talk about little else the rest of the night and through the day today.

Charlie: So, Dad, does Mutton Busting just mean falling off a sheep?

Clearly, last night is a night that none of us will forget anytime soon...but the best part that Jason and I chatted about when we were too amped up to fall asleep, is to think of how many more ridiculously fun times we have ahead of us!

Official action shot at the following link:  http://dudleydoright.smugmug.com/Rodeo2013/Southwestern-International/ElPaso2013-Sunday-afternoon/31145054_SCTpfd/2/2696313926_rK9mS46/Medium

Hmmm...at this point I'm not sure whether he will be a multicultural, musical prodigy or just a complete goofball...I suppose it could go either way...

Breaking the Rules

I am a stickler for naps, even at four years old.  Jason and I have just found that all three of us are happier if Charlie gets even a little bit of sleep mid-afternoon.  The time varies based on our activities -- as does the location -- but it never fails: if Charlie naps we have delightful evenings; if he doesn't bedtime seems like a distant dream.

Weekends are always the hardest, though.  Our standard rule is that whether or not he sleeps, Charlie has to spend at least one hour "resting" and another playing quietly in his room. (And yes, this is at least as much for me as him -- but I figure that I figure he gets a lot of his personality traits from me, so I'm probably much more pleasant when I've had my "me-time").

So I'm sure Charlie was downright shocked this afternoon when I opened his door a mere hour into nap, acknowledged that he hadn't slept and told him to get up and go help his dad in the yard.  We had a bit of a tussle when he wanted to wear his church pants out (they apparently double as safari-pants due to their color), but came to a compromise when he unearthed an old pair.

Imagine his surprise and Jason's and my delight when Charlie walked out to find his brand new tire swing house-warming gift from Texas instead of chores.  Grandma and Grandpa are officially the coolest people in the world for at least the rest of the day -- to say nothing of Mom and Dad who managed to hang the crazy thing without a ladder and without killing each other.

I guess once in a while some rules are meant to be broken (at Mom's discretion of course).

Dear Charlie,

My dear, sweet boy, you are going to be wrong in your life much more often than you'd like to admit. I know this because it's true of everyone since Adam, but more importantly because as much as you look like your father, you take after your mother in many ways...

So I have some very important advice for you: anytime there is a problem, anytime there is a question, anytime there is a disagreement, anytime there is confusion, before you waste your time worrying about, blaming or accusing another double check your facts...

You see, July 2013 was the first full month that we had renters in the Summerville house.  We found a beautiful family who are kind, honest and excited to live in the home we love so much, and especially after some of our other prospects, your Dad and I are extremely grateful for this family.

The first rent payment was due on July first, but the father called on the second to let us know they'd forgotten to mail it over the weekend, so it would not arrive until the third (still well within the grace period of the lease).  Knowing the terms of the lease, Daddy and I were comfortable and impressed that they'd called so soon.

But then the check didn't come on the third, and of course July fourth is a holiday, and the check still didn't come the fifth or the sixth.  Daddy decided to wait through the weekend until today (July eighth), but when we checked the mail there was still no payment.  We were very concerned.

Daddy and I had both thought very highly of this family and wanted to be gracious and kind and understanding, but we also knew this wasn't a very promising start to a rental relationship.  And to be frank, without their rent we could not afford to pay the mortgage on the Summerville house...so we needed that payment.

After checking the mail this evening, Daddy called the father who then called the mother who was not at home, but knew for a fact that she had mailed the check on the second.  As Daddy and I waited for the call with the address and details of her payment (thankfully the mother is very detail oriented and saved her shipping documents), Daddy decided to check the lease to verify that there were not any additional addresses that may have confused her (since we had repurposed a friend's lease). 

There were not, but there was another glaring problem.  Mommy had typed the wrong address in the payment section.  Rather than ending in a 2, I had ended the house address in a 6.  For almost a week Daddy and I have wondered and worried over a missing rent payment that I had had mailed to the wrong house.

Obviously, I am embarrassed to admit that I didn't verify the payment address on the lease. (Not an excuse but a sad fact: I'm not a very detail oriented person and horrible about proof reading.) Additionally, I am terribly regretful that my mistake led your father to make a "collections" call to our renters who had done everything right.

At four years old, there is no way you can really learn from mistake, but in the midst of my humiliation something occurred to me -- despite being a forum for funny stories and cute pictures, this blog is primarily for you.  It's your baby book.  It's your history.  It's a record of Daddy's and my love for you that I hope you'll have until you're old and gray.  By sharing my mistake in this forum in the hopes that you will one day read through all these stories and anecdotes and conversations, maybe you will be quicker to scrutinize yourself than others and therein save yourself, your wife and others all sorts of headaches and embarrassment over the years.  I sure hope so.

All my love,
Mommy

P.S.  And yes, as always, God is more merciful to me than I expect.  The address I provided was that of our new next door neighbors, whom we had yet to meet before this evening.  They are a delightful older couple named Bobby and Geri who have been traveling for the past week.  The mailman should bring all their held mail tomorrow, so they have not had the chance to question, throw away or send back the envelope addressed to your Daddy at their address.  We should be able to call the renting family tomorrow and let them know their check is safely deposited despite my mistake and lengthy delay in recognizing it.

So thoughtful

Charlie: May I pleeeeassse take a picture?
Mommy: Yes.  But be careful not to touch the lense.
Charlie: I'll take a picture of myself

Charlie proceeds to stand by the desk and take many, many pictures...

Mommy: You sure are taking a lot of pictures?
Charlie: Yeah.  It's so if you miss me you can see me a lot.