I have been around the block a few times when it comes to unsolicited parenting advice. How to feed the baby, how to get the baby to sleep, how to handle biting, attitudes, the best ways to play with my children and of course, potty training tips. I haven't heard it all, but I've heard a lot. Most of the time, I take this advice with a grain of salt. Today, however, I was rubbed the wrong way for the last time regarding my child's (or children's) hair. So please allow me to explain MY choice in the style of MY child's hair. If you know my children at all, you know they have long hair. They have beautiful hair. Yes, I realize they are boys.
Today, after happily sharing a picture of Liam, I was told by an older female colleague that I "should cut that child's hair. He looks like a girl and you will ruin him if you keep it long like that."
Bless her heart.
Had I not been in my professional setting, here is what I would have said to her:
A) He's my child. The way his hair is cut (or not cut) is determined by the choices of him, his father and me.
As if the above explanation is not sufficient...
B) I choose to raise my children to be individuals. Style themselves, choose their own clothes, choose their shoes, choose their hair style, etc...if they wish. Ryan decided to have his hair cut over the summer. Up until that point in his life, he had blatantly told me he wanted his hair long.
C) Liam requires a headlock to brush his teeth. Do you really think he'll sit long enough to cut his hair? Go ahead... give it a try. But, if you cut my son's ear off... well, eye for an eye.
D) Finally, look around you... the world is changing. It's not 1950. My sons can be and will be accepted just as they are. If you are shallow enough to think that my 5 and 3 year olds will develop a complex because they choose to go against the mainstream, I feel even worse for you than I did prior to your ignorant comment. The only complex they will have is the one created by moronic, judgemental, fools like yourself.
Stop comparing people to your own definition of normal. Normal is relative, folks. My children are happy, healthy, smart, loving and beautiful little boys. Their hair is just a part of them on the outside. Stop making it more than that.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Monday, August 26, 2013
A letter to my son the night before KiNdErGaRtEn
Dear Sweet Ryan,
Here we are. The night before kindergarten. 5 years and 8 months ago we brought you into the world. Tomorrow, your daddy and I will walk you into your elementary school for the first time. Through all the milestones of your life thus far, we have celebrated, laughed, clapped, jumped up and down, and even cried. With each one, you become smarter, more aware of the world around you and more confident. Kindergarten will be no different. I am so proud of the young man you have become. You are smart, polite, generous, empathetic, fun-loving, sensitive, genuine, analytical, cognizant. I could go on.
There are some things I will promise you about this first year of school.
1. I promise you will remember it. You will remember the smell of your kindergarten classroom, even when you're 30. There will be certain smells, sights and sounds that will take you back to this time of your life. You will remember the excitement and anticipation you will feel as you're walking into that building tomorrow. Cherish it. It goes by so fast.
2. I promise your teacher (and all your teachers, actually) loves you. Teachers are gifts. Treat them as such. It takes a very special person to want to spend 180 days of their year with a room full of 5 and 6 year olds. They love what they do, and they love you.
3. I promise you there will be that one kid that gets under your skin. You won't like this child, and that's ok. You don't have to like everyone, but you will play nice.
4. I promise you will learn. A LOT! There are a few things you have been concerned with not knowing. "I can't read" is a common phrase we hear from you lately. You will learn to read along with many many more exciting things!
5. I promise you will LOVE kindergarten! You will make friends that you will keep for the rest of your life. You will learn lessons and have experiences that will continue to mold you into the man you will be.
I'm not going to lie, I have teared up over all the little things leading up to your first day; your last day of preschool, your first day of summer camp, driving by the school in the morning on the way to work. I even cried when I washed and folded your preschool nap time blanket for the last time. Instead of putting it back in your preschool bag, I put it in the closet and that just tore me to pieces. You'll just have to put up with me and my antics. You're my first. I was my parents' first, so I will apologize in advance for my overly-paranoid thoughts and actions you will be subjected to as you go through the next 13 years of school. Fortunately for you, your father is the baby of three. He tries very hard to bring me back to earth.
Why is this so bittersweet for me, you might ask? You've been in preschool since you were a year old. This school thing is nothing new for you. You adapt well, your extremely sociable, and you make friends easily. The fact is, kindergarten marks the end of an era; an idea that you need me for everything. It marks the beginning of the end of your childhood innocence. By the time you graduate from elementary school, you will know things that I didn't know until I was in high school. You will see and hear things that I have been able to shield you from until now. This is what happens over time. Children grow up faster than their parents did.
With all that said, I am so excited for you, my love. You are brilliant and you will do so well. Remember to always be open to learning, always be open-minded, treat your peers the way you want to be treated, remember your manners, ENJOY this fabulous time of your life and never deny me a hug!
I love you all the way around all the planets and back!
~Mommy
Here we are. The night before kindergarten. 5 years and 8 months ago we brought you into the world. Tomorrow, your daddy and I will walk you into your elementary school for the first time. Through all the milestones of your life thus far, we have celebrated, laughed, clapped, jumped up and down, and even cried. With each one, you become smarter, more aware of the world around you and more confident. Kindergarten will be no different. I am so proud of the young man you have become. You are smart, polite, generous, empathetic, fun-loving, sensitive, genuine, analytical, cognizant. I could go on.
There are some things I will promise you about this first year of school.
1. I promise you will remember it. You will remember the smell of your kindergarten classroom, even when you're 30. There will be certain smells, sights and sounds that will take you back to this time of your life. You will remember the excitement and anticipation you will feel as you're walking into that building tomorrow. Cherish it. It goes by so fast.
2. I promise your teacher (and all your teachers, actually) loves you. Teachers are gifts. Treat them as such. It takes a very special person to want to spend 180 days of their year with a room full of 5 and 6 year olds. They love what they do, and they love you.
3. I promise you there will be that one kid that gets under your skin. You won't like this child, and that's ok. You don't have to like everyone, but you will play nice.
4. I promise you will learn. A LOT! There are a few things you have been concerned with not knowing. "I can't read" is a common phrase we hear from you lately. You will learn to read along with many many more exciting things!
5. I promise you will LOVE kindergarten! You will make friends that you will keep for the rest of your life. You will learn lessons and have experiences that will continue to mold you into the man you will be.
I'm not going to lie, I have teared up over all the little things leading up to your first day; your last day of preschool, your first day of summer camp, driving by the school in the morning on the way to work. I even cried when I washed and folded your preschool nap time blanket for the last time. Instead of putting it back in your preschool bag, I put it in the closet and that just tore me to pieces. You'll just have to put up with me and my antics. You're my first. I was my parents' first, so I will apologize in advance for my overly-paranoid thoughts and actions you will be subjected to as you go through the next 13 years of school. Fortunately for you, your father is the baby of three. He tries very hard to bring me back to earth.
Why is this so bittersweet for me, you might ask? You've been in preschool since you were a year old. This school thing is nothing new for you. You adapt well, your extremely sociable, and you make friends easily. The fact is, kindergarten marks the end of an era; an idea that you need me for everything. It marks the beginning of the end of your childhood innocence. By the time you graduate from elementary school, you will know things that I didn't know until I was in high school. You will see and hear things that I have been able to shield you from until now. This is what happens over time. Children grow up faster than their parents did.
With all that said, I am so excited for you, my love. You are brilliant and you will do so well. Remember to always be open to learning, always be open-minded, treat your peers the way you want to be treated, remember your manners, ENJOY this fabulous time of your life and never deny me a hug!
I love you all the way around all the planets and back!
~Mommy
Monday, June 3, 2013
Coming home
A lot has happened in the last few months. Just this morning, as I wrote "June 3" on a work document, I seriously wondered where the year has gone. Then I remember. So far, 2013 has gone to our strong desire to go home. With the exception of a brief 2 year blur in the past 12 years, Fayetteville was home. Shortly before we got married, we moved to Apex with the goal of staying in the Raleigh area. However, a short ten months later, we purchased our first home in the opposite direction we wanted to be. Don't ask me why. I still don't know why we signed and initialled our lives away in 2007 for that house out in the middle of no where in Benson. We were drunk on the first-time homeowners juice, I guess. I have no legitimate reason other than that. So from there, in a relatively quick period of time, we found ourselves right back in Fayetteville. The place, a short 2 years earlier, we so desperately wanted to leave. In a strange way, I felt drawn back even while kicking and screaming the entire way there.
That was 2009. We went back for jobs, a promising future, a set-up for a better life. All the typical reasons for a big move, or a backwards move, as I thought at the time. The moment we made the decision to move back to Fayetteville, we said it was temporary. Knowing what the Raleigh area had to offer, we didn't want to raise our family in Fayetteville. We set a 5 year goal to be back. Back to Raleigh, where we truly wanted to be. After a couple years, new opportunities presented for both Brett and myself and we became comfortable with what we had considered second best. Funny thing though, I loved my job. My job and my friends were about the only thing I truly loved about living there. I worked with some great people and I made friendships that will last forever, but that didn't satisfy the urge to get out.
In December, after making the always grueling, 24-hour, multi-city, multi-family Christmas tour, we decided enough was enough. A decision had to be made: Are we settling in Fayetteville or are we going to commit to moving.... again. Anyone who knows us, knows our moving record. Since we met in 2004, Brett and I have moved 8 times. Do the math. My Fayetteville folks know that is nothing to bat an eye at. However, for us non-military people, it's a bit excessive. With both of us in industries that allow for easy relocation, we set our eyes on Raleigh.
At the end of February, a solid 2 months into my job search, I landed a job offer in Cary for a dual-property hotel role. Two weeks later, Brett received his offer for the infamous Capital Ford in Raleigh. Everything else just fell into place, solidifying this was what we were supposed to do. Everything isn't perfect, but we are now happily back in the Triangle.
Now I know Fayetteville wasn't a backwards move as I had once thought. It was a necessity for us to be where we are now. It's a cliche that everyone hates, but I firmly believe, "there is a reason for everything." Our reason for Fayetteville was progress and growth in our marriage, in our careers and within each of us. We are stronger than we were before we left.
The boys are adjusting remarkably well. We have been busy discovering our new city. We've visited several parks, explored some nearby bike trails, shopped, walked the streets of downtown Raleigh, visited the farmer's market and the flea market, attended a hockey game, re-
visited museums, and we're still going. It will take us years to mark everything off the list of things we want to do. Most importantly though, we are close to family. We are finally home, and it feels so good.
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That was 2009. We went back for jobs, a promising future, a set-up for a better life. All the typical reasons for a big move, or a backwards move, as I thought at the time. The moment we made the decision to move back to Fayetteville, we said it was temporary. Knowing what the Raleigh area had to offer, we didn't want to raise our family in Fayetteville. We set a 5 year goal to be back. Back to Raleigh, where we truly wanted to be. After a couple years, new opportunities presented for both Brett and myself and we became comfortable with what we had considered second best. Funny thing though, I loved my job. My job and my friends were about the only thing I truly loved about living there. I worked with some great people and I made friendships that will last forever, but that didn't satisfy the urge to get out.
In December, after making the always grueling, 24-hour, multi-city, multi-family Christmas tour, we decided enough was enough. A decision had to be made: Are we settling in Fayetteville or are we going to commit to moving.... again. Anyone who knows us, knows our moving record. Since we met in 2004, Brett and I have moved 8 times. Do the math. My Fayetteville folks know that is nothing to bat an eye at. However, for us non-military people, it's a bit excessive. With both of us in industries that allow for easy relocation, we set our eyes on Raleigh.
At the end of February, a solid 2 months into my job search, I landed a job offer in Cary for a dual-property hotel role. Two weeks later, Brett received his offer for the infamous Capital Ford in Raleigh. Everything else just fell into place, solidifying this was what we were supposed to do. Everything isn't perfect, but we are now happily back in the Triangle.
Now I know Fayetteville wasn't a backwards move as I had once thought. It was a necessity for us to be where we are now. It's a cliche that everyone hates, but I firmly believe, "there is a reason for everything." Our reason for Fayetteville was progress and growth in our marriage, in our careers and within each of us. We are stronger than we were before we left.
The boys are adjusting remarkably well. We have been busy discovering our new city. We've visited several parks, explored some nearby bike trails, shopped, walked the streets of downtown Raleigh, visited the farmer's market and the flea market, attended a hockey game, re-
visited museums, and we're still going. It will take us years to mark everything off the list of things we want to do. Most importantly though, we are close to family. We are finally home, and it feels so good.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Random Ramblings
Warning: I'm exhausted and not really in the mood to write creatively, so this will probably come out a bunch a rambling. Nonetheless, I feel the need to get some thoughts out of my head and on to "paper". It's been so long since I've blogged. It's been so long since I've done a lot of things because of our move back home.
Here I sit at the top of the stairs. I'm guarding the doors of Bubs' and Blue's rooms and their access to the living room. They will inevitably try to con me into "one more show", or beg to accompany me on the couch while I write. I periodically stare at the three baskets of laundry I should be folding rather than boring you with my words. Oh, and I still haven't cleaned up from dinner. Some nights I give up and give in. They go to bed entirely too late and the next morning my children are replaced. They awake as vicious little monsters who refuse to get dressed, eat breakfast or brush their teeth. So here I sit. Repeating I love yous and good nights in between the requests to "shhhhhhhhh."
The evening began with Liam's routine temper tantrum as soon as we walked in the door. God bless the 2-year-old. Today's trigger was exiting the jeep. He's a master manipulator and decided he would test his limits by requesting to get out himself, which led to him crawling in the rear of the jeep and playing with the umbrella. Having my arms full of stuff, a killer headache and needing to pee only added to my frustration. He didn't approve of my solution to restrain him in a football hold to get him in the house. I'm sure our neighbors think I'm a stellar mom. I'll be waiting for trophy.
Sometimes I wonder why I was chosen to be a mother. When I was little, I always saw myself as a wife and mother. I never had huge dreams about my career or traveling or any other aspect of life. But motherhood I was sure of. I had the names of my children picked out by the time I was in middle school and by high school I started visualizing my wedding even though I had no idea who the groom would be. My plan was to have 2 boys and 1 girl. Names? Dominic, Andrew and Rebekah. My tastes have changed.
My house is consistently a wreck. We leave at 7:00am every morning for school and work. The boys and I get home around 6:15pm every evening. I don't have as much time with them as I would like, even though sometimes I feel like I need to run as fast as I can away from them. Our evenings are consumed with making dinner, eating dinner, play time, showers, cuddles and bedtime. Most of the time the husband isn't home. He's busting his butt at work so he can one day have a relatively normal schedule. Cleaning isn't first on my list of priorities. Pop up visitors, even family, makes me anxious. I worry about being judged on my homemaker skills. I'm not a homemaker. Currently, aside from the laundry and dishes I've already mentioned, there are toys from wall to wall in the playroom (which happens to be the living room in this house), there is dirt on the floor in the kitchen and laundry room from the dogs (why do I mop?), surfaces are dusty, there is random 'stuff' throughout the house, and we won't discuss the bathrooms. I wouldn't necessarily consider it a choice to live this way. I prefer to call it a requirement of raising two small boys. I could spend my time chasing after them with a dust rag, bottle of Windex and the Dyson, or I could spend my time making memories along side them while looking beyond the mess.
Last night we had a rare evening with Daddy home. We had dinner together then headed to the park on our bikes. Ryan has recently graduated from training wheels on his bike. I met another mom today who's child will be entering kindergarten this year. We compared stories and she asked me how I felt about Ryan going to school this year. I paused for a second and then answered, "I can't think about kindergarten. I'm still recovering from the removal of the training wheels." I know he's going to school in 3 months, but I haven't given it much thought yet. Anyway, back to the park... (see, I told you I'm rambling) While Ryan can ride on 2 wheels, he hasn't completely mastered it yet. Before last night, he still couldn't push off and ride without my assistance to balance. He and Brett worked together for an hour last night and I'm happy to say he's mastered it. With a little more practice, we're ready to hit the trails around our house. Watching him learn from his daddy and finally master something he was struggling with gave me goosebumps. There were tears, falls and scrapes, but that child was hell bent on success. He has a double dose of stubbornness and persistence from his parents. Seeing him put it all to good use makes me proud. The experience gave me flashbacks of when my Deddy taught me to ride my purple bike with pink tires in our backyard. I love that I now know how he felt that day when I took off without him holding on. This is practice for all the times I will have to let go and let him ride as he grows older.
When I think about how horrible a house keeper I am at this time in my life, I do my best to push it aside. My children aren't going to care about a messy house. Hell, they make the mess! I don't want to miss my boys' childhood milestones because I'm worried about pop up guests. We're too busy making forts, cooking together, doing science experiments and exploring our new city to worry with a spotless house. You're more than welcome to stop by, but if you're going to judge me, wait until the boys are off to college to come over.
Don't get me wrong. It's not like the clutter doesn't get to me. I can't stand it actually. My OCD gets in the way of me completely being ok with a messy house. Hence the anxiety with guests. So I've come up with a couple remedies: Alphabetize the spices and sort the closets by color. This is normal, right? The boys' closets look like brand new boxes of crayons. All colors grouped together from lights to darks in the correct color order. I guess I have to grab hold of some aspect of our home in order to feel secure, while the rest of the place falls into the miniature hands of our children.
Oh well. Such is life. I doubt my children will dwell on the mess. Hopefully they will remember how much fun we had.
Here I sit at the top of the stairs. I'm guarding the doors of Bubs' and Blue's rooms and their access to the living room. They will inevitably try to con me into "one more show", or beg to accompany me on the couch while I write. I periodically stare at the three baskets of laundry I should be folding rather than boring you with my words. Oh, and I still haven't cleaned up from dinner. Some nights I give up and give in. They go to bed entirely too late and the next morning my children are replaced. They awake as vicious little monsters who refuse to get dressed, eat breakfast or brush their teeth. So here I sit. Repeating I love yous and good nights in between the requests to "shhhhhhhhh."
The evening began with Liam's routine temper tantrum as soon as we walked in the door. God bless the 2-year-old. Today's trigger was exiting the jeep. He's a master manipulator and decided he would test his limits by requesting to get out himself, which led to him crawling in the rear of the jeep and playing with the umbrella. Having my arms full of stuff, a killer headache and needing to pee only added to my frustration. He didn't approve of my solution to restrain him in a football hold to get him in the house. I'm sure our neighbors think I'm a stellar mom. I'll be waiting for trophy.
Sometimes I wonder why I was chosen to be a mother. When I was little, I always saw myself as a wife and mother. I never had huge dreams about my career or traveling or any other aspect of life. But motherhood I was sure of. I had the names of my children picked out by the time I was in middle school and by high school I started visualizing my wedding even though I had no idea who the groom would be. My plan was to have 2 boys and 1 girl. Names? Dominic, Andrew and Rebekah. My tastes have changed.
My house is consistently a wreck. We leave at 7:00am every morning for school and work. The boys and I get home around 6:15pm every evening. I don't have as much time with them as I would like, even though sometimes I feel like I need to run as fast as I can away from them. Our evenings are consumed with making dinner, eating dinner, play time, showers, cuddles and bedtime. Most of the time the husband isn't home. He's busting his butt at work so he can one day have a relatively normal schedule. Cleaning isn't first on my list of priorities. Pop up visitors, even family, makes me anxious. I worry about being judged on my homemaker skills. I'm not a homemaker. Currently, aside from the laundry and dishes I've already mentioned, there are toys from wall to wall in the playroom (which happens to be the living room in this house), there is dirt on the floor in the kitchen and laundry room from the dogs (why do I mop?), surfaces are dusty, there is random 'stuff' throughout the house, and we won't discuss the bathrooms. I wouldn't necessarily consider it a choice to live this way. I prefer to call it a requirement of raising two small boys. I could spend my time chasing after them with a dust rag, bottle of Windex and the Dyson, or I could spend my time making memories along side them while looking beyond the mess.
Last night we had a rare evening with Daddy home. We had dinner together then headed to the park on our bikes. Ryan has recently graduated from training wheels on his bike. I met another mom today who's child will be entering kindergarten this year. We compared stories and she asked me how I felt about Ryan going to school this year. I paused for a second and then answered, "I can't think about kindergarten. I'm still recovering from the removal of the training wheels." I know he's going to school in 3 months, but I haven't given it much thought yet. Anyway, back to the park... (see, I told you I'm rambling) While Ryan can ride on 2 wheels, he hasn't completely mastered it yet. Before last night, he still couldn't push off and ride without my assistance to balance. He and Brett worked together for an hour last night and I'm happy to say he's mastered it. With a little more practice, we're ready to hit the trails around our house. Watching him learn from his daddy and finally master something he was struggling with gave me goosebumps. There were tears, falls and scrapes, but that child was hell bent on success. He has a double dose of stubbornness and persistence from his parents. Seeing him put it all to good use makes me proud. The experience gave me flashbacks of when my Deddy taught me to ride my purple bike with pink tires in our backyard. I love that I now know how he felt that day when I took off without him holding on. This is practice for all the times I will have to let go and let him ride as he grows older.
When I think about how horrible a house keeper I am at this time in my life, I do my best to push it aside. My children aren't going to care about a messy house. Hell, they make the mess! I don't want to miss my boys' childhood milestones because I'm worried about pop up guests. We're too busy making forts, cooking together, doing science experiments and exploring our new city to worry with a spotless house. You're more than welcome to stop by, but if you're going to judge me, wait until the boys are off to college to come over.
Don't get me wrong. It's not like the clutter doesn't get to me. I can't stand it actually. My OCD gets in the way of me completely being ok with a messy house. Hence the anxiety with guests. So I've come up with a couple remedies: Alphabetize the spices and sort the closets by color. This is normal, right? The boys' closets look like brand new boxes of crayons. All colors grouped together from lights to darks in the correct color order. I guess I have to grab hold of some aspect of our home in order to feel secure, while the rest of the place falls into the miniature hands of our children.
Oh well. Such is life. I doubt my children will dwell on the mess. Hopefully they will remember how much fun we had.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
We're a Family
When you were born you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life in a manner so that when you die the world cries and you rejoice.
I don't know who those words belong to, but there isn't a truer, more profound statement to live by.
He was walking across the main room of the student center of my college during the set up for our new student orientation. I was a sophomore, the new Editor of the campus newspaper, a senator of our student government and a member of our local sorority. I was setting up the booth to recruit new students to join our newspaper. I noticed his sense of pride and ownership in this event. He walked up and down that room and his stride suggested he was untouchable. When the students started shuffling in, it didn't take long for him to come over and introduce himself to me. How I had not met him during my freshman year, I have no idea. Maybe because I was your typical freshman, enjoying her new found freedom with blinders on.
"What's up," he said.
"Not a lot. Recruiting new people to write for me," I answered back.
"Me too. You want to come join us in SAC?" he said quite confidently as if I had been wasting my time for the past year.
"Umm, no. I can't." Then I listed all the extracurriculars I had already committed to, not to mention my overbearing course load I had signed up for.
"Here. Write your name on this list. Come to our first meeting and just try it out. We're a family. You'll love it." He handed me a a yellow legal pad with a place to write my name, email address and phone number. He wrote in black ink, and it was borderline chicken scratch.
I didn't even really know what the Student Activities Committee did. Like I said, I had blinders on. I had gone to many campus events, but didn't really pay any attention to how they were put on. I wrote my name on that pad of paper and promised I would attend the first meeting. Nothing could have convinced me at that moment that writing my name down on that paper would have changed my life the way that it did. It was one of those crossroads decisions that would pave many roads through the rest of my life.
That man's name is Chris Ryan. Today is his birthday. He would have been 51. He passed away during a soccer game on campus in 2003. He left behind a beautiful, wonderful wife and three boys who have grown to be absolutely, incredible young men who are extensions of my family. He also left behind a legacy and decades worth of students who were a part of his campus family; his SAC family. Never have I met someone who touched so many people. Because of him, we are all a family, hundreds deep and miles wide.
Today, with seeing all the tributes, quotes, and pictures honoring Chris on Facebook, I wondered if he knew just how much he had impacted everyone he encountered. I wondered if he knew about all the people that would miss him when he was gone, even almost 10 years later. My hope is that he looks down on all of us with incredible awe over the passion people still feel when we remember him. I hope he knows how much each and every one of us love him and (I think I can speak for everyone) thank him for a job well done. He wasn't lying when he said "We're a family" and even in death, he has kept our world together. To me, that is beyond amazing.
Happy Birthday, Chris! You deserve to rejoice.
I don't know who those words belong to, but there isn't a truer, more profound statement to live by.
He was walking across the main room of the student center of my college during the set up for our new student orientation. I was a sophomore, the new Editor of the campus newspaper, a senator of our student government and a member of our local sorority. I was setting up the booth to recruit new students to join our newspaper. I noticed his sense of pride and ownership in this event. He walked up and down that room and his stride suggested he was untouchable. When the students started shuffling in, it didn't take long for him to come over and introduce himself to me. How I had not met him during my freshman year, I have no idea. Maybe because I was your typical freshman, enjoying her new found freedom with blinders on.
"What's up," he said.
"Not a lot. Recruiting new people to write for me," I answered back.
"Me too. You want to come join us in SAC?" he said quite confidently as if I had been wasting my time for the past year.
"Umm, no. I can't." Then I listed all the extracurriculars I had already committed to, not to mention my overbearing course load I had signed up for.
"Here. Write your name on this list. Come to our first meeting and just try it out. We're a family. You'll love it." He handed me a a yellow legal pad with a place to write my name, email address and phone number. He wrote in black ink, and it was borderline chicken scratch.
I didn't even really know what the Student Activities Committee did. Like I said, I had blinders on. I had gone to many campus events, but didn't really pay any attention to how they were put on. I wrote my name on that pad of paper and promised I would attend the first meeting. Nothing could have convinced me at that moment that writing my name down on that paper would have changed my life the way that it did. It was one of those crossroads decisions that would pave many roads through the rest of my life.
That man's name is Chris Ryan. Today is his birthday. He would have been 51. He passed away during a soccer game on campus in 2003. He left behind a beautiful, wonderful wife and three boys who have grown to be absolutely, incredible young men who are extensions of my family. He also left behind a legacy and decades worth of students who were a part of his campus family; his SAC family. Never have I met someone who touched so many people. Because of him, we are all a family, hundreds deep and miles wide.
Today, with seeing all the tributes, quotes, and pictures honoring Chris on Facebook, I wondered if he knew just how much he had impacted everyone he encountered. I wondered if he knew about all the people that would miss him when he was gone, even almost 10 years later. My hope is that he looks down on all of us with incredible awe over the passion people still feel when we remember him. I hope he knows how much each and every one of us love him and (I think I can speak for everyone) thank him for a job well done. He wasn't lying when he said "We're a family" and even in death, he has kept our world together. To me, that is beyond amazing.
Happy Birthday, Chris! You deserve to rejoice.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Pass the mic
I have to get some things off my chest in light of the Sandy Hook tragedy. You may not agree, and that's OK...
1. Guns. I grew up in a house with guns. Several of them. I know many of my friends who grew up the same. In my 13 years of grade school, no one ever brought a gun to school. The biggest threat we had was kids getting on the wrong bus to go home, or some idiot who wanted to get out of taking a test would call in a bomb threat and we'd all have to go sit out on the football field for an hour. No on ever showed up with a gun, much less shot anyone. Guns are not the major issue here. School shootings are an indirect result of a society that has become a culture of mental instability, a lack of self-respect or value of life. I meet children who speak to their parents like they are worthless individuals that just happen to be living under the same roof, yet they get away with it. Children are exposed to adult content too early and they become desensitized to it all by the time they reach their teenage years. I do believe that we, as a nation, should come up with stricter gun laws. But I don't think this would solve the problem. When is the last time you met a criminal that cared a lick about laws? I remember in high school how easy it was to get our hands on alcohol. I remember getting drunk at a field party. Did I care that I was only 17, and 4 years too young to be drinking? No. I did not. However, that was in 1999. Obviously things have changed.
2. God. In elementary school we recited the Pledge of Allegiance every morning. A student would get on the intercom in the office and lead the school while we all stood by our desks, facing the flag that hung in our classroom with our hand over our hearts. We knew it word for word by the second week of kindergarten. That was the only time we ever mentioned God in school. Of course, today, it is rare to hear that pledge in a school. I'm OK with that. You know why? Because I don't believe you can take God out of anywhere. Regardless of who your God is, you can't remove Him from the person who believes in Him. He goes where we go. I'm so sick of hearing the religious argument, "__(fill in the blank)__ happened because God was taken from the school." I'm sorry, but you're wrong. My God is always with me. I was taught that by my parents, my family and my church and I believe it to be true. It is not the educators' job to teach your child a religion. That's YOUR job as the parent, if you chose to do so. Learning morals and values starts at home. Your child's teacher builds upon those universal values by leading and teaching in a loving, kind and nurturing way. Whether the teacher is Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, or Atheist, he or she will love your child and teach your child with the highest of moral standards that comes naturally to all teachers that are truly called to teach. If you want your child to be taught in an atmosphere that is exclusive to one of those religions, put him in a private school that offers that setting.
3. Mental illness. For whatever reason, mental illness and development disorders are the red headed step children of the medical world. Insurance doesn't want to cover it, people don't want to talk about it, and children and adults a like are secretly shunned because they suffer from it. I have been affected directly on this issue in more ways than one and what I have observed infuriates me. Public schools, in general, are not equipped to educate children with mental or developmental issues. They are cast out to the side and their parents are left to wonder how in the world they are going to get them through graduation without wanting to jump off a building. Mental health professionals, in general, are quick to drown patients in medication rather than offering therapy to work through their issues. Medication they quickly become dependent on. It then takes 10 times the effort to wean off the medicines than it would to work through the underlying issues that presented in the beginning. I am NOT saying all mentally ill people can do without medication. I am suggesting that some mentally ill and developmentally challenged individuals need only a specific plan of action and a qualified, caring professional to help them work through their challenges.
4. Westboro. They are NOT baptist. They are NOT a church. Westboro (and I won't even say their full name) is a hate group. The media and the general public need to stop referring to them as a baptist church. This group of people participate in hate crimes against humanity. Hate crimes are illegal, therefore they should be prohibited to "practicing their right to free speech." Wake up folks.
Our country is so quick to lay blame on someone else or a certain policy when tragedy occurs. Perhaps WE are to blame. We, as a nation, are doing our children an injustice. The United States of America is more concerned about foreign policy, the "sanctity of marriage", unborn babies and marijuana rather than focusing on the important stuff. The people of this nation are suffering because our country can't get our priorities straight. Yet, we (parents) are supposed to teach our children to be responsible adults and set appropriate priorities?
I see a problem here. Or maybe I've just lost my mind.
1. Guns. I grew up in a house with guns. Several of them. I know many of my friends who grew up the same. In my 13 years of grade school, no one ever brought a gun to school. The biggest threat we had was kids getting on the wrong bus to go home, or some idiot who wanted to get out of taking a test would call in a bomb threat and we'd all have to go sit out on the football field for an hour. No on ever showed up with a gun, much less shot anyone. Guns are not the major issue here. School shootings are an indirect result of a society that has become a culture of mental instability, a lack of self-respect or value of life. I meet children who speak to their parents like they are worthless individuals that just happen to be living under the same roof, yet they get away with it. Children are exposed to adult content too early and they become desensitized to it all by the time they reach their teenage years. I do believe that we, as a nation, should come up with stricter gun laws. But I don't think this would solve the problem. When is the last time you met a criminal that cared a lick about laws? I remember in high school how easy it was to get our hands on alcohol. I remember getting drunk at a field party. Did I care that I was only 17, and 4 years too young to be drinking? No. I did not. However, that was in 1999. Obviously things have changed.
2. God. In elementary school we recited the Pledge of Allegiance every morning. A student would get on the intercom in the office and lead the school while we all stood by our desks, facing the flag that hung in our classroom with our hand over our hearts. We knew it word for word by the second week of kindergarten. That was the only time we ever mentioned God in school. Of course, today, it is rare to hear that pledge in a school. I'm OK with that. You know why? Because I don't believe you can take God out of anywhere. Regardless of who your God is, you can't remove Him from the person who believes in Him. He goes where we go. I'm so sick of hearing the religious argument, "__(fill in the blank)__ happened because God was taken from the school." I'm sorry, but you're wrong. My God is always with me. I was taught that by my parents, my family and my church and I believe it to be true. It is not the educators' job to teach your child a religion. That's YOUR job as the parent, if you chose to do so. Learning morals and values starts at home. Your child's teacher builds upon those universal values by leading and teaching in a loving, kind and nurturing way. Whether the teacher is Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, or Atheist, he or she will love your child and teach your child with the highest of moral standards that comes naturally to all teachers that are truly called to teach. If you want your child to be taught in an atmosphere that is exclusive to one of those religions, put him in a private school that offers that setting.
3. Mental illness. For whatever reason, mental illness and development disorders are the red headed step children of the medical world. Insurance doesn't want to cover it, people don't want to talk about it, and children and adults a like are secretly shunned because they suffer from it. I have been affected directly on this issue in more ways than one and what I have observed infuriates me. Public schools, in general, are not equipped to educate children with mental or developmental issues. They are cast out to the side and their parents are left to wonder how in the world they are going to get them through graduation without wanting to jump off a building. Mental health professionals, in general, are quick to drown patients in medication rather than offering therapy to work through their issues. Medication they quickly become dependent on. It then takes 10 times the effort to wean off the medicines than it would to work through the underlying issues that presented in the beginning. I am NOT saying all mentally ill people can do without medication. I am suggesting that some mentally ill and developmentally challenged individuals need only a specific plan of action and a qualified, caring professional to help them work through their challenges.
4. Westboro. They are NOT baptist. They are NOT a church. Westboro (and I won't even say their full name) is a hate group. The media and the general public need to stop referring to them as a baptist church. This group of people participate in hate crimes against humanity. Hate crimes are illegal, therefore they should be prohibited to "practicing their right to free speech." Wake up folks.
Our country is so quick to lay blame on someone else or a certain policy when tragedy occurs. Perhaps WE are to blame. We, as a nation, are doing our children an injustice. The United States of America is more concerned about foreign policy, the "sanctity of marriage", unborn babies and marijuana rather than focusing on the important stuff. The people of this nation are suffering because our country can't get our priorities straight. Yet, we (parents) are supposed to teach our children to be responsible adults and set appropriate priorities?
I see a problem here. Or maybe I've just lost my mind.
FIVE
Did you hear? I have a 5-year-old.
1...2...3...4...5.
Five years of giggles, bedtime stories, bubble baths, walks, trips to the park, and playing catch. 60 months of snuggles, kissing boo boos, saying prayers, wiping tears, looking for the moon, and counting stars. 260 weeks of peek-a-boo, coloring, racing cars, listening for trains and chasing firetrucks. 1,825 days of waffles for breakfast, chocolate milk, building sand castles, pretending we can fly, and playing in the rain. 43,800 hours of cooking together, answering "why?", monkey hugs, cow kisses and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. 2,628,000 minutes of dancing, drumming, singing and painting in the kitchen. 157,680,000 seconds of thanking God for my smart, witty, beautiful, sweet Ryan.
How on earth did I get so lucky to be blessed with such a remarkable child?
Ryan,
You are a remarkable little boy with a big heart. I am so proud to be your mother. You will move mountains, son!
Happy Birthday precious boy. I love you!
~Mommy
1...2...3...4...5.
Five years of giggles, bedtime stories, bubble baths, walks, trips to the park, and playing catch. 60 months of snuggles, kissing boo boos, saying prayers, wiping tears, looking for the moon, and counting stars. 260 weeks of peek-a-boo, coloring, racing cars, listening for trains and chasing firetrucks. 1,825 days of waffles for breakfast, chocolate milk, building sand castles, pretending we can fly, and playing in the rain. 43,800 hours of cooking together, answering "why?", monkey hugs, cow kisses and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. 2,628,000 minutes of dancing, drumming, singing and painting in the kitchen. 157,680,000 seconds of thanking God for my smart, witty, beautiful, sweet Ryan.
How on earth did I get so lucky to be blessed with such a remarkable child?
Ryan,
You are a remarkable little boy with a big heart. I am so proud to be your mother. You will move mountains, son!
Happy Birthday precious boy. I love you!
~Mommy
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Put Me In The Zoo
I commonly refer to my family as a circus and me the circus manager. It fits. It's entertaining. It's fun. Well, after the last couple weeks, I'm not sure that analogy fits anymore. Circuses are well thought out, planned and structured. Every once in a while we'll hear of a freak accident where the tiger goes off on his handler or the elephant plows through the crowd, but for the most part, circus animals and people on stage are trained (or terrified) and respond on command to complete their tasks to entertain a crowd.
No, we're not a circus. We're entertaining and fun, but there's no structure and the planned days are scarce. We are a zoo. While entertaining, zoos allow their animals to roam free and do whatever it is that makes them happy. Other than feeding time, they lack structure. People come and watch the animals in the zoo in their natural habitat, not some crazy, delusional production where tigers are jumping through hoops of fire and elephants are giving each other piggyback rides.
The Dipp zoo has special kinds of animals though. We have morphing animals. We have lions that morph into monkeys that morph into birds that morph into... well, you get it.
My Mimi used to read to me when I was little. It was one of my favorite things to do with her. One of my favorite books she would read is a Dr. Seuss book, Put Me In The Zoo. If you aren't familiar with the read, it is about a Leopard named Spot. He wants to live in the zoo, but ultimately decides that the circus is the best fit for him as that is where he can best showcase his talents. Perhaps my childhood love for this book was a foreshadowing of my future. My future of being 'put in the zoo'. Ironically, I have purchased this book for Liam for our new family tradition, 12 books of Christmas. I can't wait to read it to him.
Ryan received some hand-me-down Spiderman pajamas from a friend last week. Tonight he wore them for the first time and realized the shirt had "web wings". My soon-to-be five-year-old immediately began jumping from the couch to the ottoman, and while flying through the air, he yelled "SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!!"
After bath time I got one hell of a workout while attempting to dry my crazed, slippery, 2-year-old, half-monkey child while simultaneously preventing him from falling on a wet floor and keep the door shut while he pitched a fit to get at his brother before Ryan could get to his trains. Not an hour after his bath, Liam had an unfortunate accident with a Pediasure Sidekicks 'milk shake' that left his hair soaked and smelly and the bedroom walls needing to be cleaned.
On any given night, if you were to walk in our home, you would find Ryan racing around the "track" that our kitchen, living room and dining room double as, kicking balls through the house or jumping off the top of the Little Tikes climber. You will find Liam standing on tables, coloring on himself, getting into the tupperware cabinet, or emptying out the desk. During these colder months the basketball goal, bikes and various balls have found their way into the house. If you stepped in, you may or may not get smacked in the face by a ball that has just been kicked during a game of indoor soccer. If you have dinner with us, it is likely that you will end up with part of Liam's dinner in your hair, on your plate or in your lap. You may walk into a dance party in our kitchen, complete with all 43 instruments we own. You'll also hear dogs barking, children squeeling, and lovely background Pandora music that sometimes doesn't really fit the mood. You'll find dirty dishes in the sink, a pile of laundry and sometimes you'll find sticky floors. You'll also find a laid back mother who enjoys allowing her children express themselves in their own home.
So, no. Our home doesn't fit with the orderly standards of a circus. We're simply a zoo. A crazy, unstructured, free-spirited home with half-crazed, borderline-barbaric children. We act in our natural ways and only have semi-structured feeding times. We have lions, tigers, and bears... OH MY! We have fun, we have excitement, and we have love.
Yes please, Put me in the Zoo!
No, we're not a circus. We're entertaining and fun, but there's no structure and the planned days are scarce. We are a zoo. While entertaining, zoos allow their animals to roam free and do whatever it is that makes them happy. Other than feeding time, they lack structure. People come and watch the animals in the zoo in their natural habitat, not some crazy, delusional production where tigers are jumping through hoops of fire and elephants are giving each other piggyback rides.
The Dipp zoo has special kinds of animals though. We have morphing animals. We have lions that morph into monkeys that morph into birds that morph into... well, you get it.
My Mimi used to read to me when I was little. It was one of my favorite things to do with her. One of my favorite books she would read is a Dr. Seuss book, Put Me In The Zoo. If you aren't familiar with the read, it is about a Leopard named Spot. He wants to live in the zoo, but ultimately decides that the circus is the best fit for him as that is where he can best showcase his talents. Perhaps my childhood love for this book was a foreshadowing of my future. My future of being 'put in the zoo'. Ironically, I have purchased this book for Liam for our new family tradition, 12 books of Christmas. I can't wait to read it to him.
Ryan received some hand-me-down Spiderman pajamas from a friend last week. Tonight he wore them for the first time and realized the shirt had "web wings". My soon-to-be five-year-old immediately began jumping from the couch to the ottoman, and while flying through the air, he yelled "SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!!"
After bath time I got one hell of a workout while attempting to dry my crazed, slippery, 2-year-old, half-monkey child while simultaneously preventing him from falling on a wet floor and keep the door shut while he pitched a fit to get at his brother before Ryan could get to his trains. Not an hour after his bath, Liam had an unfortunate accident with a Pediasure Sidekicks 'milk shake' that left his hair soaked and smelly and the bedroom walls needing to be cleaned.
On any given night, if you were to walk in our home, you would find Ryan racing around the "track" that our kitchen, living room and dining room double as, kicking balls through the house or jumping off the top of the Little Tikes climber. You will find Liam standing on tables, coloring on himself, getting into the tupperware cabinet, or emptying out the desk. During these colder months the basketball goal, bikes and various balls have found their way into the house. If you stepped in, you may or may not get smacked in the face by a ball that has just been kicked during a game of indoor soccer. If you have dinner with us, it is likely that you will end up with part of Liam's dinner in your hair, on your plate or in your lap. You may walk into a dance party in our kitchen, complete with all 43 instruments we own. You'll also hear dogs barking, children squeeling, and lovely background Pandora music that sometimes doesn't really fit the mood. You'll find dirty dishes in the sink, a pile of laundry and sometimes you'll find sticky floors. You'll also find a laid back mother who enjoys allowing her children express themselves in their own home.
So, no. Our home doesn't fit with the orderly standards of a circus. We're simply a zoo. A crazy, unstructured, free-spirited home with half-crazed, borderline-barbaric children. We act in our natural ways and only have semi-structured feeding times. We have lions, tigers, and bears... OH MY! We have fun, we have excitement, and we have love.
Yes please, Put me in the Zoo!
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
3-0
Wow... I'm 30. How'd that happen?
The past few days I've been distracted with getting older. This is really getting in the way of concentrating on various day to day things in my life. For whatever reason, I just can't fathom how I got here. 30, 3-0, thirty, 3 tens, 15 times 2... whatever, it's 30. I'm 30.
When I was 15, thirty was middle-aged and forty was OLD. I was thinking about that yesterday when I left work. There are some things that I have naturally let go of being a full-time, working, married mother of two small boys. I don't have the time for myself like I used to. Not that I was ever very prissy to begin with. Brett describes me as a 'jeans & hoodie girl', which is true, but sometimes I do like to get dolled up and pretend I'm a high maintenance woman. So, in a fit of terror that my 15-year-old self now considers me "middle-aged" I went off the deep end and dyed my hair last night. I used to do this all the time. From 16 years old until Ryan was born, my natural hair color was never known. Up until last night, I had dishwater brown hair. Last night I went 'dark mahogany brown'. Tonight I'll add some auburn streaks maybe. Whoa chick... slow down! You're living on the edge! Middle-aged my ass... take THAT hair!
Next on the list?
* New work out plan... I certainly can't be 'Dirty 30' with excess flab hanging from my stomach and rear end. I'm going an all-girls vaca this weekend to Charleston with the ladies of my family. Monday will be the start of my re-introduction of P90x, which I started about 2 months ago, but abruptly quit for no real reason other than laziness.
* Diet... not that I need to lose weight, I just need to tone up, but my eating habits need to change. I WILL NOT fall victim to the old-age metabolism monster. I've heard about it all my life. One day my metabolism will just disappear and it will be gone forever. I'm not playing that game. Changing my diet will go hand-in-hand with my new work out plan. While I'm at it, maybe I'll sign up for a triathlon. Take that 30!
* Laugh lines... I have parenthesis on my face and I don't like it. They have to go. Since I'm middle-aged, I'll surrender to the middle-aged creams and potions that promise to keep a youthful face. It will be like a science experiment! Ahhh... high school all over again!
* Underwear over haul... My underwear must suggest that I'm 'dirty 30' not 'new mommy'. Dirty in the turn-my-husband-on sense, not the I-haven't-bathed-in-2-days sense. My children are not infants, we're passed the stage of forgetting to take a shower because I'm tending to the baby.
* Boobs... Yeah, I'm getting them. I've gone long enough without them. I am a woman. My boys will probably be boob men since each of them stole mine from me. I am taking control back and buying me a set. Nothing over the top, but I have a consultation next week... we'll see what the doc says.
Pardon me, I'm going to get mushy for a minute... Looking back, I think about ALL the things I did in my twenties; amazing events, once in a lifetime experiences, trying times, devastating events, pure happiness, shock, joy, all of it. I've experienced and accomplished a tremendous amount of things and crossed many items off my life's to-do list. They've all had some way of molding me and changing me for the good and the bad. In retrospect, there are only a few things I might would change, but for the most part, I'm proud of my twenties. My teens? Well, I'm proud of those too. Proud that I was a level headed kid for the most part, only making "small" mistakes. Small in the sense that none of them were massively life-changing choices. However, some may have been borderline. I was never arrested, never fell to recreational drugs, never got pregnant, and made decent grades in school. I was going to share some of my teenage antics, but my children may read this one day, and I certainly don't want them to get any ideas. I'll keep my mouth shut.
So there... I'm trying very hard to embrace this 30 thing. I may not be the best at aging gracefully, but I'm only on day 1. Hopefully I have many more days to work on it. Practice makes perfect.
The past few days I've been distracted with getting older. This is really getting in the way of concentrating on various day to day things in my life. For whatever reason, I just can't fathom how I got here. 30, 3-0, thirty, 3 tens, 15 times 2... whatever, it's 30. I'm 30.
When I was 15, thirty was middle-aged and forty was OLD. I was thinking about that yesterday when I left work. There are some things that I have naturally let go of being a full-time, working, married mother of two small boys. I don't have the time for myself like I used to. Not that I was ever very prissy to begin with. Brett describes me as a 'jeans & hoodie girl', which is true, but sometimes I do like to get dolled up and pretend I'm a high maintenance woman. So, in a fit of terror that my 15-year-old self now considers me "middle-aged" I went off the deep end and dyed my hair last night. I used to do this all the time. From 16 years old until Ryan was born, my natural hair color was never known. Up until last night, I had dishwater brown hair. Last night I went 'dark mahogany brown'. Tonight I'll add some auburn streaks maybe. Whoa chick... slow down! You're living on the edge! Middle-aged my ass... take THAT hair!
Next on the list?
* New work out plan... I certainly can't be 'Dirty 30' with excess flab hanging from my stomach and rear end. I'm going an all-girls vaca this weekend to Charleston with the ladies of my family. Monday will be the start of my re-introduction of P90x, which I started about 2 months ago, but abruptly quit for no real reason other than laziness.
* Diet... not that I need to lose weight, I just need to tone up, but my eating habits need to change. I WILL NOT fall victim to the old-age metabolism monster. I've heard about it all my life. One day my metabolism will just disappear and it will be gone forever. I'm not playing that game. Changing my diet will go hand-in-hand with my new work out plan. While I'm at it, maybe I'll sign up for a triathlon. Take that 30!
* Laugh lines... I have parenthesis on my face and I don't like it. They have to go. Since I'm middle-aged, I'll surrender to the middle-aged creams and potions that promise to keep a youthful face. It will be like a science experiment! Ahhh... high school all over again!
* Underwear over haul... My underwear must suggest that I'm 'dirty 30' not 'new mommy'. Dirty in the turn-my-husband-on sense, not the I-haven't-bathed-in-2-days sense. My children are not infants, we're passed the stage of forgetting to take a shower because I'm tending to the baby.
* Boobs... Yeah, I'm getting them. I've gone long enough without them. I am a woman. My boys will probably be boob men since each of them stole mine from me. I am taking control back and buying me a set. Nothing over the top, but I have a consultation next week... we'll see what the doc says.
Pardon me, I'm going to get mushy for a minute... Looking back, I think about ALL the things I did in my twenties; amazing events, once in a lifetime experiences, trying times, devastating events, pure happiness, shock, joy, all of it. I've experienced and accomplished a tremendous amount of things and crossed many items off my life's to-do list. They've all had some way of molding me and changing me for the good and the bad. In retrospect, there are only a few things I might would change, but for the most part, I'm proud of my twenties. My teens? Well, I'm proud of those too. Proud that I was a level headed kid for the most part, only making "small" mistakes. Small in the sense that none of them were massively life-changing choices. However, some may have been borderline. I was never arrested, never fell to recreational drugs, never got pregnant, and made decent grades in school. I was going to share some of my teenage antics, but my children may read this one day, and I certainly don't want them to get any ideas. I'll keep my mouth shut.
So there... I'm trying very hard to embrace this 30 thing. I may not be the best at aging gracefully, but I'm only on day 1. Hopefully I have many more days to work on it. Practice makes perfect.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Puzzle Pieces
I've learned over the years that people come into one's life for many reasons and for different amounts of time. Some come in, stay a while, leave and come back. Others are gone forever. Some live in your heart and some you just wish would run far away. Whether you are spiritual or not, you can't deny there are lessons to be learned from each of these people. Some leave lasting impressions that you will never forget or spend the rest of your life trying to live up to being even half of what they were.
These people, the bad ones and the good ones, make me who I am. It's amazing to me that my life could have gone in hundreds of directions all depending on who crossed my path at various times. I would have never known that choosing to say hello to that girl I passed in the hallway would led to a deeper friendship than I could ever imagine. Choosing that one extracurricular activity over the others led to a lifetime of priceless friendships all over the country and a lifetime of heartache all at the same time. Choosing to change my course of study led to me meeting the man of my dreams. Choosing to stand up and not back down led me down a path to a career that I love. Decisions are like puzzle pieces that somehow fit together when it's all said and done. Decisions come with people. People come with love. I'd hate to envision my life without the people and love that make it how wonderful it is.
The last few months I've struggled a bit with what kind of wife, mom, friend, daughter I've become. In many ways, I want to do better. However, I also believe I deserve to give myself credit, which is what I struggle with. Over the past few weeks, various people have said things to me that I needed to hear. They may not have realized it, but they have made a difference.
I am a lucky woman and I am blessed by those who have walked in and out of my life.
"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." ~ Albert Schweitzer
These people, the bad ones and the good ones, make me who I am. It's amazing to me that my life could have gone in hundreds of directions all depending on who crossed my path at various times. I would have never known that choosing to say hello to that girl I passed in the hallway would led to a deeper friendship than I could ever imagine. Choosing that one extracurricular activity over the others led to a lifetime of priceless friendships all over the country and a lifetime of heartache all at the same time. Choosing to change my course of study led to me meeting the man of my dreams. Choosing to stand up and not back down led me down a path to a career that I love. Decisions are like puzzle pieces that somehow fit together when it's all said and done. Decisions come with people. People come with love. I'd hate to envision my life without the people and love that make it how wonderful it is.
The last few months I've struggled a bit with what kind of wife, mom, friend, daughter I've become. In many ways, I want to do better. However, I also believe I deserve to give myself credit, which is what I struggle with. Over the past few weeks, various people have said things to me that I needed to hear. They may not have realized it, but they have made a difference.
I am a lucky woman and I am blessed by those who have walked in and out of my life.
"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." ~ Albert Schweitzer
Thursday, September 27, 2012
The Dating Game
Six years, 2 babies and 2 dogs later, Brett and I are sort of acting like an old married couple rather than vibrant, young, party animal, parents. Ok, so we've never really been party animals, but we definitely had more "us" time pre-kids. Obviously. We do LOTS of stuff as a family. We're always on the go. Local festivals, museums, ball games, the beach, the park, out for ice cream, out for dinner, etc... all this stuff we do as a family, which is wonderful, but the only alone time Brett and I get is when we're both snoring.
So, we're re-introducing dating to our relationship! Inspired by our recent trip to the NY Giants game in Charlotte, we've decided we need more husband/wife excitement. We had such a good time at the game and there's absolutely no reason why we can't keep that fun going!
The goal? One real date each month, minimum. Not just your typical dinner and a movie, but new and exciting things that one or both of us have never done, or very rarely do. I'm so excited about our October date!!!
So, we're re-introducing dating to our relationship! Inspired by our recent trip to the NY Giants game in Charlotte, we've decided we need more husband/wife excitement. We had such a good time at the game and there's absolutely no reason why we can't keep that fun going!
The goal? One real date each month, minimum. Not just your typical dinner and a movie, but new and exciting things that one or both of us have never done, or very rarely do. I'm so excited about our October date!!!
Indoor Climbing and dinner at Subway!
You may be saying, "Subway? Really?" This date isn't centered around food. It's all about the activity and spending time together. So since it's an active date, we'll go for something on the lighter side to eat.
Cheers to Mommy & Daddy!
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Superman
My Dear Sweet Boys,
Ryan, today you're 4 and Liam, you're 2. You will not understand until later in your life, (Light years away for you, but a quick blink for me.) but this is important. It could save your life.
You are not invincible. I'll say it again. YOU. ARE. NOT. INVINCIBLE.
Remember those words. One day, you're going to feel larger than life; like even a million grown men can't knock you off the pedestal you're standing on. You're Superman. It's ok. I felt like that too.
Do yourself a favor and don't listen to your ego or your friends. Listen to me. You are not indestructible. Your life is precious. Fragile. Don't take it for granted.
Yes, you are special. No one can do YOU like you do. You are strong, capable, smart, young men. You might be the popular one in school, you might be the bookworm, or the jock. Regardless of what mold you fit in to, do not allow a momentary lapse in judgement to change your life (or your family's life) forever.
Within the past two days, I have learned of two deaths that did not have to happen. Tragic deaths of a 30-year-old man, and a 16-year-old boy in two separate car accidents caused by excessive speed. Speed. Their families are devastated. Over the past 2 days, Ryan, I have quizzed you one the very first thing you do when you get in a vehicle and your answer is always consistent, "Put on your seat belt." Don't forget it. One day, God willing, you will both drive. I want you to enjoy and appreciate your privilege to drive. (Consider yourself lucky if your overly-paranoid mother allows you to acquire this privilege at 16.) The vehicle that you drive is not a toy. It is a weapon. A lethal weapon. Respect it and respect other drivers around you.
Too many lives are taken too soon due to preventable car accidents. The statistics are staggering. Don't be a statistic.
It's ok for you to feel like you're standing on top of the world. It feels good and is great for the soul. But don't get cocky. God is in control. Not you.
Ryan, today you're 4 and Liam, you're 2. You will not understand until later in your life, (Light years away for you, but a quick blink for me.) but this is important. It could save your life.
You are not invincible. I'll say it again. YOU. ARE. NOT. INVINCIBLE.
Remember those words. One day, you're going to feel larger than life; like even a million grown men can't knock you off the pedestal you're standing on. You're Superman. It's ok. I felt like that too.
Do yourself a favor and don't listen to your ego or your friends. Listen to me. You are not indestructible. Your life is precious. Fragile. Don't take it for granted.
Yes, you are special. No one can do YOU like you do. You are strong, capable, smart, young men. You might be the popular one in school, you might be the bookworm, or the jock. Regardless of what mold you fit in to, do not allow a momentary lapse in judgement to change your life (or your family's life) forever.
Within the past two days, I have learned of two deaths that did not have to happen. Tragic deaths of a 30-year-old man, and a 16-year-old boy in two separate car accidents caused by excessive speed. Speed. Their families are devastated. Over the past 2 days, Ryan, I have quizzed you one the very first thing you do when you get in a vehicle and your answer is always consistent, "Put on your seat belt." Don't forget it. One day, God willing, you will both drive. I want you to enjoy and appreciate your privilege to drive. (Consider yourself lucky if your overly-paranoid mother allows you to acquire this privilege at 16.) The vehicle that you drive is not a toy. It is a weapon. A lethal weapon. Respect it and respect other drivers around you.
Too many lives are taken too soon due to preventable car accidents. The statistics are staggering. Don't be a statistic.
It's ok for you to feel like you're standing on top of the world. It feels good and is great for the soul. But don't get cocky. God is in control. Not you.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Canon in D
My evening yesterday was rather “spirited” to put it
lightly. Now-a-days, arriving home is a race between the boys and I. We have
made it into a game to see how far into dinner preparation I can get before
Ryan asks for a piece of candy, to take a walk or to build a fort in the living
room and before Liam starts his irrational, almost-2-year-old fits of pure
rage.
We like to dance in the kitchen. This is our latest nightly
routine since it’s been either scorching outside or pouring rain. So I turn the
music on; we usually choose between Jack Johnson, Glee, or Cee Lo Green
stations on Pandora as they offer a good mix for us. Last night we chose Jack
Johnson. The noodles were cooking, the spaghetti sauce was simmering and the
boys and I were fully involved in Dipp Dance Fest 2012 in the kitchen. All was
well until Liam noticed the candy bin on the top of the fridge. **Note to self
– Move it! The race was over. Mommy lost, Liam won some M&Ms and Ryan came
in second by asking for a bowl of Doritos immediately after Liam asked for
demanded candy.
Thankfully, my children are half Italian and pasta makes
everything better. Well, usually. While Liam was scaling my left leg and
screaming, I successfully loaded up each of their plates, poured drinks and we
finally made it to the table and sat down… all the while, Pandora is still
playing in the background.
Technically, I’m the only one who actually sits to eat. Ryan
makes eating an Olympic sport. The child can’t sit still and eat for anything,
and Liam… well, he’s almost 2. So while I sit, I have one child throwing
noodles up in the air and catching them in his hair, ears, and occasionally his
mouth and another who appears to be leading an aerobics class from his chair.
The dogs are in their ready positions to catch whatever becomes available to
them.
All of a sudden I notice that Canon in D is playing on
Pandora; On my Jack Johnson station. Canon in D isn’t exactly “indie rock” or
“adult alternative”, but whatever, I go with it as it happens to be one of my
favorites. It took me back to my wedding day. I had our wedding party walk in
to the song, played beautifully by our very talented organist. I thought about
what I had wished for on our wedding day… a beautiful life with my wonderful
husband and how ever many little ones we would have. I thought about where we
started, where we’ve been and how our marriage has evolved and what it is now.
I thought about how I’ve always wanted children and how blessed we are to have
2 healthy, vibrant and “spirited” little boys who are more perfect than I ever
imagined. After I was finished daydreaming and reminiscing I came back to earth
and to my dinner table. Ryan was begging to get up and Liam had turned his
face, hands, belly and half of the table red. He had noodles in his ear, hair
and nose. He looks at me and says, “ALL
DONE!” and throws his plate across the table.
Pandora reminded me that I have exactly what I want and I am
grateful for that. Bring it on boys… Mommy’s got this!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Circ de Dipp
Tonight the circus spent a little time out on the town. We went to Outback for dinner and then visited Gander Mountain. The occasion was brought to us by an Outback gift certificate that has been in my wallet for a few months now and a Gander Mountain gift card that Brett received by trading an old golf club he no longer wanted on Craigslist.
Now, when Circ de Dipp goes out to dinner, it is always sure fire entertainment... for everyone else but Mommy and Daddy Dipp! Upon opening the front doors of the restaurant, Ryan announces to the hostess with such excitement, "Tonight, we're eating at a restaurant!" As if this was his first time ever, even though it's only been about 2 weeks since we've eaten out. The boys and I sit down at our booth and wait for the hostess to bring us a booster seat for Liam, and wait for Brett to meet us since he drove straight from work. I told the hostess that Brett would be arriving behind us and that he would be wearing a Lafayette Ford shirt. Before she could register my statement, Ryan blurted out, "He's bald!" Poor Brett. :) However, there was no need for any of us to make the hostess aware of Brett's impending arrival because as soon as Brett walks in the door, Liam spots him and screams, "DADDY!!!!!!!!" at the top of his lungs. At least the others in the restaurant new who he was (and that he was there)!
So there we sit, table scattered with crayons, kids menus, and action figures to keep our little loves busy long enough to give our drink orders. Then we get the inevitable announcement that we get each and every time we sit down to eat, whether at home or out..."I have to go to the bathroom." I think Ryan is on a mission to explore every public rest room we come across. He certainly doesn't get this from me, as I have a phobia of any public rest room regardless of how clean it is.
We are eventually able to place our order and after a longer than normal wait, our food came. Of course by this time, the boys had already consumed two loaves of Outback bread, including the mini bowl of butter. My dear sweet Liam, butter is to be used sparingly. It is not considered a dip for your bread, but rather a "taste enhancer". We will continue to focus on this issue.
In lieu of eating their entrees, Ryan spent most of his time testing how long he could stay under the table without us noticing and Liam spent most of his time attempting to see how far he could throw his broccoli. I had a quick vision of Liam's half-chewed broccoli floret landing in the fancy hair do of the lady sitting in the booth next to us. The outcome of my mini daydream was not pleasant. I don't even remember savoring my meal. As a matter of fact, Brett suggested I may have early onset Alzheimers because I brought up the same subject three different times during dinner. Yay!! Family outings!!! In an effort to look at the glass half full, the boys will be the only kids at school tomorrow with Outback lunches. I can't wait until next time. Anyone have a suggestion for a manners tutor? :)
Now, when Circ de Dipp goes out to dinner, it is always sure fire entertainment... for everyone else but Mommy and Daddy Dipp! Upon opening the front doors of the restaurant, Ryan announces to the hostess with such excitement, "Tonight, we're eating at a restaurant!" As if this was his first time ever, even though it's only been about 2 weeks since we've eaten out. The boys and I sit down at our booth and wait for the hostess to bring us a booster seat for Liam, and wait for Brett to meet us since he drove straight from work. I told the hostess that Brett would be arriving behind us and that he would be wearing a Lafayette Ford shirt. Before she could register my statement, Ryan blurted out, "He's bald!" Poor Brett. :) However, there was no need for any of us to make the hostess aware of Brett's impending arrival because as soon as Brett walks in the door, Liam spots him and screams, "DADDY!!!!!!!!" at the top of his lungs. At least the others in the restaurant new who he was (and that he was there)!
So there we sit, table scattered with crayons, kids menus, and action figures to keep our little loves busy long enough to give our drink orders. Then we get the inevitable announcement that we get each and every time we sit down to eat, whether at home or out..."I have to go to the bathroom." I think Ryan is on a mission to explore every public rest room we come across. He certainly doesn't get this from me, as I have a phobia of any public rest room regardless of how clean it is.
We are eventually able to place our order and after a longer than normal wait, our food came. Of course by this time, the boys had already consumed two loaves of Outback bread, including the mini bowl of butter. My dear sweet Liam, butter is to be used sparingly. It is not considered a dip for your bread, but rather a "taste enhancer". We will continue to focus on this issue.
In lieu of eating their entrees, Ryan spent most of his time testing how long he could stay under the table without us noticing and Liam spent most of his time attempting to see how far he could throw his broccoli. I had a quick vision of Liam's half-chewed broccoli floret landing in the fancy hair do of the lady sitting in the booth next to us. The outcome of my mini daydream was not pleasant. I don't even remember savoring my meal. As a matter of fact, Brett suggested I may have early onset Alzheimers because I brought up the same subject three different times during dinner. Yay!! Family outings!!! In an effort to look at the glass half full, the boys will be the only kids at school tomorrow with Outback lunches. I can't wait until next time. Anyone have a suggestion for a manners tutor? :)
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
To my children, Love!
5 months later... I'm still here! Just busy! I do want to take some time to record my thoughts and feelings on yesterday's passing of Amendment One, which makes any union other than that of a man and a woman illegal in the state of North Carolina. Yes, it's politics and religion, so if you don't want to read or will be offended, stop now.
Even though I speak openly to my children about love and acceptance of those who are different than our family of four, my hope is that one day they will read this blog. I want Ryan, Liam, and any other children we may have to remember exactly what our family values are and what we stand for. If they think differently from me and their father, fine, but they will know what we stand for during this turbulent time in US and NC history. My hope is when they grow up, they will look back on today, just as I look back at the issue of racism during the civil rights movement, and ask me, "Mama, did that really happen? Because it's not like that now!"
I stand for freedom and equality. I try my best to live by the Golden Rule: Treat others the way you want to be treated. Or, if I were to quote the Bible, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." My parents and my grandparents taught me this through their words, actions and leadership. I am grateful for that. They also taught me to think freely and be confident in my words and actions. However, my mother would tell you that I have an issue with word vomit. My father is famous for giving me "the look" when I speak my mind. Other members of my family and some friends have been known to censor my outspokenness to prevent arguments and uneasiness within the family.
Yesterday I was told that I need to "suck it up and deal with the political crap like we all have to deal with it...life goes on."
Yes, life does go on, you are correct. However, sucking it up and dealing with it is not the answer. Think about history. If America sucked up terrorism, would Osama bin Laden be ruling our country? If America sucked up racism and dealt with it, where would we as a nation be today? If founders of this country sucked up the religious crap they were dealing with in "the old world", would America even be here?
There are some people that were born and bred to suck it up and deal with it. I was not. I will continue to voice my opinion until I'm blue. If we continue to do what we have always done, we will never move forward as a nation; there will always be hate. This nation is not made of 100% Christian, heterosexuals that marry within their race, live a wealthy lifestyle and breed perfect, athletic, scholarship earning children. We are diverse. We will continue to become more diverse. A union or marriage between a couple that is unlike my marriage poses zero threat to the sanctity of my relationship with my husband.
One day, I'm willing to bet, we'll have a gay president, or perhaps a Jewish president, or maybe Hindu, Asian, Greek Orthodox or Jehovah's Witness. [You may replace "president" with any other political position if you'd like]. What if these 'non-traditional' and/or non-Christian leaders were to make it illegal for you to praise Christ in public, cheat on your spouse, or anything else you do on a regular basis? They are bringing their religious views into the equation while running the United States of America. This is dangerous.
It saddens me that so many people who have no issues preaching Christianity, do not lead by example. The Bible tells us to love God, love others and love ourselves. The Bible also tells us not to judge. I am far from perfect and I have never claimed to be, but I do try to live a moral life. I love love and everyone else should love love too. Judging others is not the Christian thing to do. Telling others the way they should live their lives is not your right.
So, to my children... Love. Treat others who are different than you with respect. "Normal" is relative, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Stand for what you believe in and don't back down. If you do this, you will go far. Mama will always love you!
Even though I speak openly to my children about love and acceptance of those who are different than our family of four, my hope is that one day they will read this blog. I want Ryan, Liam, and any other children we may have to remember exactly what our family values are and what we stand for. If they think differently from me and their father, fine, but they will know what we stand for during this turbulent time in US and NC history. My hope is when they grow up, they will look back on today, just as I look back at the issue of racism during the civil rights movement, and ask me, "Mama, did that really happen? Because it's not like that now!"
I stand for freedom and equality. I try my best to live by the Golden Rule: Treat others the way you want to be treated. Or, if I were to quote the Bible, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." My parents and my grandparents taught me this through their words, actions and leadership. I am grateful for that. They also taught me to think freely and be confident in my words and actions. However, my mother would tell you that I have an issue with word vomit. My father is famous for giving me "the look" when I speak my mind. Other members of my family and some friends have been known to censor my outspokenness to prevent arguments and uneasiness within the family.
Yesterday I was told that I need to "suck it up and deal with the political crap like we all have to deal with it...life goes on."
Yes, life does go on, you are correct. However, sucking it up and dealing with it is not the answer. Think about history. If America sucked up terrorism, would Osama bin Laden be ruling our country? If America sucked up racism and dealt with it, where would we as a nation be today? If founders of this country sucked up the religious crap they were dealing with in "the old world", would America even be here?
There are some people that were born and bred to suck it up and deal with it. I was not. I will continue to voice my opinion until I'm blue. If we continue to do what we have always done, we will never move forward as a nation; there will always be hate. This nation is not made of 100% Christian, heterosexuals that marry within their race, live a wealthy lifestyle and breed perfect, athletic, scholarship earning children. We are diverse. We will continue to become more diverse. A union or marriage between a couple that is unlike my marriage poses zero threat to the sanctity of my relationship with my husband.
One day, I'm willing to bet, we'll have a gay president, or perhaps a Jewish president, or maybe Hindu, Asian, Greek Orthodox or Jehovah's Witness. [You may replace "president" with any other political position if you'd like]. What if these 'non-traditional' and/or non-Christian leaders were to make it illegal for you to praise Christ in public, cheat on your spouse, or anything else you do on a regular basis? They are bringing their religious views into the equation while running the United States of America. This is dangerous.
It saddens me that so many people who have no issues preaching Christianity, do not lead by example. The Bible tells us to love God, love others and love ourselves. The Bible also tells us not to judge. I am far from perfect and I have never claimed to be, but I do try to live a moral life. I love love and everyone else should love love too. Judging others is not the Christian thing to do. Telling others the way they should live their lives is not your right.
So, to my children... Love. Treat others who are different than you with respect. "Normal" is relative, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Stand for what you believe in and don't back down. If you do this, you will go far. Mama will always love you!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Many reasons for being MIA
Ok folks, so it's been a while. A LOOOONG while! There are many reasons for me being MIA. First and foremost, my circus. It truly is an act straight out of Barnum and Bailey around here. If reality TV didn't involve exploiting my children and potentially harming my marriage, I think we could quite possibly build a nice little nest egg with a show. TLC wouldn't know what hit them with the Dipp crowd.
So, there is a lot to share and I could write all night about it. However, I'm just going to get back into my blogging habits by posting my favorite pictures from 2011. I've always enjoyed photography, however, for whatever reason, 2011 really got me going. Maybe because I have good subjects, or maybe because so many people have shared such amazing comments about my real life style, but I just love it. I was able to take some shots of a good friend/our babysitter and her small family and I'm very excited (yet a bit nervous) to have been asked to be the photographer at my sister-in-law's wedding in two weeks! I would really like to upgrade to a newer camera, but what I have my eye on is not in my budget at the moment, so I'll stick with old faithful.
So here are some of my favorites...
Classic Ryan picture! He was not happy to be in front of the camera on this day. We were in Downtown Durham in the historic Tobacco District. Liam was in his classic "Go with the flow" mood here. Perfect capture of personality from my lovelies.
My man. Simply gorgeous. Taken at Carolina Lakes on July 4th on his friend Sean's boat.
Ryan got a new slip 'n slide and loved the sprinkler feature. Taken in our backyard on Southview.
Liam taken after his Daddy with the love of the course. Carolina Lakes over July 4th weekend on #6 green.
Ryan and his friend 'George' on our deck on Southview. George was a green caterpillar that mesmerized Ryan for hours. George even went on a walk with us and sadly he did not survive the adventure. Too much for such a small creature to handle!
Liam following Ryan on the beach in Salter Path in June. Matching outfits were purchased before Liam was born and unfortunately this was the first and last time Liam's fit, hence the 'slight' wedgie.
Easter in the backyard at Mimi's house. Ryan was blowing bubbles he received in his Easter basket that morning. Liam was intently watching and I was able to capture this awesome shot that I think shows their relationship to the T; Ryan does, Liam watches (and now quickly copies).
The 5 Dippolito grandsons. No girls allowed!! From L-R: Liam, Dawson, Noah, Ryan, & Riley. This was the product of a combined 3 hours of trying to get a picture of all 5 boys for Grandma's birthday present. This picture was blown up, framed and is hanging in her office. SUCCESS!
Another taken in Downtown Durham in the historic tobacco district. I just love this picture. Both of their personalities once again are shining.
Salter Path, NC on the beach. I asked Ryan to show me his guns and this is what I got.
Ryan in the backyard on Southview with he beloved motorcycle. This was not staged. He was just sitting there watching his brother and I was lucky enough to catch him.
Car troubles... not really, but Ryan wanted a reason to "fix" his monster truck. Liam coached him through it and after about 5 minutes they rode off into the sunset.
For Ryan's 4th birthday we decided to give him the gift of an experience rather than another toy, since he's rotten and pretty much has everything a 4 year old would want. So we rode the train from Durham to Raleigh. I caught this image while Ryan was anxiously awaiting the train to pull up.
So excited! I'M FOUR and today I will ride a train!!! Durham train station. (Taken about 25 minutes prior to the picture above)
Fun in the leaves in the backyard at Southview.
Fun in the leaves in the backyard at Southview
I can't believe I caught this. This was taken in the backyard of my parents house on Brenrose just after Thanksgiving lunch. Ryan was pushing Liam in the push car and suddenly pulled back on the handle, lifting Liam up in the air. Liam was not amused, Ryan laughed and I got the best Christmas card picture I've ever had!
My dad, 'DeeDee', and the boys at the Campbell Family reunion in early December in Raleigh. We were on the front porch attempting to get some shots of the boys in their matching Christmas outfits and cowboy hats that Nonna, my mom, got them in Texas. The end result was a bunch of goofy outtakes, but this was one of my favorites.
Easter Sunday in the backyard at Mimi's house. One of my favorites of Liam.
Peace out Mama, I'm going swimming! Unlike Ryan, Liam has no fear of the ocean. On the beach at Salter Path, NC in July.
From L-R: Thomas Brooks, Ryan and Liam. Thomas is the son of my best friend from college. He and Liam are about 7.5 weeks apart in age and they met for the first time at the beach in Salter Path in July. My mom saw this photo idea online and purchased all three of them chairs. Success!
Ryan loves to dig! Salter Path, NC in July
Liam (left) and Thomas Brooks with their toes in the water and butts in the sand. Living out the words of the Zack Brown Band!
We took the boys to Downtown Fayetteville and Festival Park to get some 1 year shots of Liam and some general brother shots as well. I have lots of favorites from that day, this being one of them. Yes, my son is barefooted. Liam refused shoes for a long time. Taken on Hay St. in Downtown Fayetteville.
Another favorite of Liam taken up on the banks of Cross Creek in Linear Park in downtown Fayetteville.
This is my cousin Caitlin just after she married Bradley in Durham on July 9th. I caught this image as they were walking away from the photographer. I was standing beside him. I love that Bradley was being playful in this one and her dress is just beautiful.
Ryan the ring bearer at Caitlin and Bradley's wedding. During our outdoor photo shoot with the photographer. While the photographer was snapping pics of the bride and groom, Ryan wanted to look at the geese in the pond in front of the church. He has his hands up over his eye to block the sun. July 9, 2011 at Ridgecrest Baptist Church in Durham.
So, there is a lot to share and I could write all night about it. However, I'm just going to get back into my blogging habits by posting my favorite pictures from 2011. I've always enjoyed photography, however, for whatever reason, 2011 really got me going. Maybe because I have good subjects, or maybe because so many people have shared such amazing comments about my real life style, but I just love it. I was able to take some shots of a good friend/our babysitter and her small family and I'm very excited (yet a bit nervous) to have been asked to be the photographer at my sister-in-law's wedding in two weeks! I would really like to upgrade to a newer camera, but what I have my eye on is not in my budget at the moment, so I'll stick with old faithful.
So here are some of my favorites...
Classic Ryan picture! He was not happy to be in front of the camera on this day. We were in Downtown Durham in the historic Tobacco District. Liam was in his classic "Go with the flow" mood here. Perfect capture of personality from my lovelies.
My man. Simply gorgeous. Taken at Carolina Lakes on July 4th on his friend Sean's boat.
Ryan got a new slip 'n slide and loved the sprinkler feature. Taken in our backyard on Southview.
Liam taken after his Daddy with the love of the course. Carolina Lakes over July 4th weekend on #6 green.
Ryan and his friend 'George' on our deck on Southview. George was a green caterpillar that mesmerized Ryan for hours. George even went on a walk with us and sadly he did not survive the adventure. Too much for such a small creature to handle!
Liam following Ryan on the beach in Salter Path in June. Matching outfits were purchased before Liam was born and unfortunately this was the first and last time Liam's fit, hence the 'slight' wedgie.
Easter in the backyard at Mimi's house. Ryan was blowing bubbles he received in his Easter basket that morning. Liam was intently watching and I was able to capture this awesome shot that I think shows their relationship to the T; Ryan does, Liam watches (and now quickly copies).
The 5 Dippolito grandsons. No girls allowed!! From L-R: Liam, Dawson, Noah, Ryan, & Riley. This was the product of a combined 3 hours of trying to get a picture of all 5 boys for Grandma's birthday present. This picture was blown up, framed and is hanging in her office. SUCCESS!
Another taken in Downtown Durham in the historic tobacco district. I just love this picture. Both of their personalities once again are shining.
Salter Path, NC on the beach. I asked Ryan to show me his guns and this is what I got.
Ryan in the backyard on Southview with he beloved motorcycle. This was not staged. He was just sitting there watching his brother and I was lucky enough to catch him.
Car troubles... not really, but Ryan wanted a reason to "fix" his monster truck. Liam coached him through it and after about 5 minutes they rode off into the sunset.
For Ryan's 4th birthday we decided to give him the gift of an experience rather than another toy, since he's rotten and pretty much has everything a 4 year old would want. So we rode the train from Durham to Raleigh. I caught this image while Ryan was anxiously awaiting the train to pull up.
So excited! I'M FOUR and today I will ride a train!!! Durham train station. (Taken about 25 minutes prior to the picture above)
Fun in the leaves in the backyard at Southview.
Fun in the leaves in the backyard at Southview
I can't believe I caught this. This was taken in the backyard of my parents house on Brenrose just after Thanksgiving lunch. Ryan was pushing Liam in the push car and suddenly pulled back on the handle, lifting Liam up in the air. Liam was not amused, Ryan laughed and I got the best Christmas card picture I've ever had!
My dad, 'DeeDee', and the boys at the Campbell Family reunion in early December in Raleigh. We were on the front porch attempting to get some shots of the boys in their matching Christmas outfits and cowboy hats that Nonna, my mom, got them in Texas. The end result was a bunch of goofy outtakes, but this was one of my favorites.
Easter Sunday in the backyard at Mimi's house. One of my favorites of Liam.
Peace out Mama, I'm going swimming! Unlike Ryan, Liam has no fear of the ocean. On the beach at Salter Path, NC in July.
From L-R: Thomas Brooks, Ryan and Liam. Thomas is the son of my best friend from college. He and Liam are about 7.5 weeks apart in age and they met for the first time at the beach in Salter Path in July. My mom saw this photo idea online and purchased all three of them chairs. Success!
Ryan loves to dig! Salter Path, NC in July
Liam (left) and Thomas Brooks with their toes in the water and butts in the sand. Living out the words of the Zack Brown Band! 
We took the boys to Downtown Fayetteville and Festival Park to get some 1 year shots of Liam and some general brother shots as well. I have lots of favorites from that day, this being one of them. Yes, my son is barefooted. Liam refused shoes for a long time. Taken on Hay St. in Downtown Fayetteville.
Another favorite of Liam taken up on the banks of Cross Creek in Linear Park in downtown Fayetteville.
Same rock, same Cross Creek, same Linear Park. I could really go broke printing all these pictures to hang in my house.
This is my cousin Caitlin just after she married Bradley in Durham on July 9th. I caught this image as they were walking away from the photographer. I was standing beside him. I love that Bradley was being playful in this one and her dress is just beautiful. 
Ryan the ring bearer at Caitlin and Bradley's wedding. During our outdoor photo shoot with the photographer. While the photographer was snapping pics of the bride and groom, Ryan wanted to look at the geese in the pond in front of the church. He has his hands up over his eye to block the sun. July 9, 2011 at Ridgecrest Baptist Church in Durham.Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Life and Big Dreams
I'm really starting to suck at this blogging thing. I started with the intent of tracking my life so that I wouldn't have to remember so much later... That hasn't worked out very well. I think about things I want to write all the time, but never get around to actually sitting down and typing it.
Anyway, since my last entry, lots has happened. Liam is now 10 MONTHS OLD! WHOA! Where did the time go? A few quick stats:
He weighs 22lbs
He's approximately 28 inches long
He's wearing 18-24 month clothes
He has 2 teeth that he didn't get until about 3 weeks ago. We can no longer call him our "Toothless Wonder".
He's waving bye bye, clapping, cruising the furniture, beating up his brother, attempting to stand alone, and eating "real" food
Things he loves: HIS DADDY (apparently I equate to chopped liver, or something of the like), bath time (or anytime he can play in the water), stacking blocks and knocking them down, his bottles, his monkey lovey, drumming on everything and anything, watching Ryan.
Things he hates: getting out of the bath tub, diaper changes and anything else that requires him to sit still for any length of time.
He officially answers to "Blue" or "Blue Blues"
Liam is a whole different ball of fun than Ryan was. Liam doesn't sit still EVER. Always on the move getting into anything and everything he can. He puts a new meaning to baby proofing the house. Don't get me wrong, Ryan was a ball of energy too, but Liam just takes it to a whole new level.
As for Ryan, he's moved up to the Montessori 3-4 year old class at school. He's rapidly learning letter and number recognition and beginning to learn to write his letters as well. He's been able to recognize and spell his name for a long while now, but in order to land that scholarship we have in mind he needs to learn the other 22 letters of the alphabet. :)
Ryan has always been very independent and stubborn. He continues to amaze me with all the things he says and does. He associates everything, and I do mean everything. He can reason his way into anything he wants, which is so incredibly dangerous for my will power to be a strong, stand-firm mother.
It's so interesting to watch how Brett and my personalities and appearances come out in our children. Ryan is a spitting image and personality of me. Liam is just like Brett, looks and personality. It is just so amazing how together we created these 2 little men, they came from the same 2 people and are soooo different!
Ok, now onto my true #6. If I would have done what I said I was going to do, I would have been done by now. Nonetheless, here you go...
Truth #6: My lottery list...
I. AM. GOING. TO. WIN. ... one day. And when I do, these are the things I will do with my multi millions.
1. Purchase breasts. Yes friends, I will buy myself a new rack. I guess God left me out of the whole boob thing. Maybe he thought I didn't need them. Perhaps I would misuse them... or quite possibly he thought I wouldn't know what to do with them. Who knows.
2. Pay off debt. DUH! The responsible adult part of my brain has to type this. I would pay off all my debt. House, car, student loans, credit cards, etc. After it's paid off, I will NEVER have another credit card again. Unless it is for work... wait, I just won the lotto, what's work? (And yes, I would buy the boobs before I paid off my debt.)
3. Put $350K away for each of my boys for college. If they don't use it for school, they won't get it until their 30th birthdays. Maybe then they will be responsible enough not to blow it like I would.
4. Put another $250K in trust funds for each child. Again, they will not have access to it until their 30th birthday. They need to learn the meaning of work.
5. Purchase each set of parents a retirement home of their choice. I don't think I need to explain this one. They are our parents, enough said.
6. Built my dream house with all the bells and whistles, but not too over the top. I have a "dream house wish list" that I will go by. No crazy stuff like an elevator or a "packing room". But I would like granite countertops, stainless steal appliances, front load washer and dryer, a pool, a party deck, 5 bedrooms, walk-in closets, a massive master bath with jetted tub and double shower, a mud room large enough for my dogs to have their own space, a media room, play room, a golf simulator room, surround sound throughout the entire house, a laundry room large enough to fold my clothes and iron in, a big rocking chair front porch and a 4 car garage... oh, and I want it all on one level. I hate stairs.
7. A condo at the beach. I used to want a house, but that's too much to keep up. I want a simple place large enough for my family to grow into. I don't want to have to worry about keeping the house or yard up. I just want a place to go to and enjoy.
8. Toys. I group these into one, because I would appear to be too greedy if I didn't. :) The toys I would purchase for my family to enjoy: a boat, 2 jet skis, a motorcycle, a golf cart and a blow up obstacle course. You can never be too old for a huge blow up toy in your back yard.
9. Various donations: My home church would get a big pay day, the pet adoption agency we adopted Dakoda from would get another large chunk of change. Each of our family members would get a piece of our winnings as well.
10. Finally, I would invest the rest. I'd be an idiot not too. After all the crap I just bought, I'm going to have to invest something for my retirement. HA!
Monday, May 9, 2011
Mommies & truth #5
By now you know a few things about me. Among them, I'm a horrible blogger, I love my family and I speak my mind...sometimes too freely. With that said, I will not promise to improve the timeliness of my blogs and I will not stop speaking my mind because that makes me who I am, however, I will continue to profess my love for my family.
My mother is amazing. I'm not the only one who thinks this. Aside from all the folks who tell me she's fantabulous, my kids think she hung the moon. When I say, "let's go see Nonna," their faces light up. Even Liam, at such a young age, knows just how special she is. We have a special relationship. She loves me unconditionally, tells me I'm beautiful, listens when I'm upset, comes to my rescue, prays for me, likes spending time with me (most of the time) and even gives me a proverbial kick in the ass when I am in need of one. That's just a sampling of why she's awesome. My mothering habits stem largely from her. She has an astounding faith in God. Through my personal struggles with life, she has been there for every milestone, every tragedy with love in her heart, and for that I am forever grateful. If I can be half the mother to my boys as she has been to me, I'm doing pretty well.
Mama, I love you.
Truth #4
In keeping with the theme of mothers, I'd like to share that I have two angels rocking in the arms of Jesus and my loved ones that have gone before me. I have shared about one of them, but due to the lack of public acceptance of children out of wed lock, the other has slowly drifted into silence. We don't speak of it often and that causes guilt in my heart. Our second angel is no more worthy of my heart than our first. So, here I sit and tell you that I am the mother of 4, not 2.
Watching Ryan and Liam grow makes me wonder what the other two would be like at 5 and 3. I am comforted through the realization that God blessed me with them. They were tiny beings that taught me the true miracle of conception and life and to never take either one for granted.
My mother is amazing. I'm not the only one who thinks this. Aside from all the folks who tell me she's fantabulous, my kids think she hung the moon. When I say, "let's go see Nonna," their faces light up. Even Liam, at such a young age, knows just how special she is. We have a special relationship. She loves me unconditionally, tells me I'm beautiful, listens when I'm upset, comes to my rescue, prays for me, likes spending time with me (most of the time) and even gives me a proverbial kick in the ass when I am in need of one. That's just a sampling of why she's awesome. My mothering habits stem largely from her. She has an astounding faith in God. Through my personal struggles with life, she has been there for every milestone, every tragedy with love in her heart, and for that I am forever grateful. If I can be half the mother to my boys as she has been to me, I'm doing pretty well.
Mama, I love you.
Truth #4
In keeping with the theme of mothers, I'd like to share that I have two angels rocking in the arms of Jesus and my loved ones that have gone before me. I have shared about one of them, but due to the lack of public acceptance of children out of wed lock, the other has slowly drifted into silence. We don't speak of it often and that causes guilt in my heart. Our second angel is no more worthy of my heart than our first. So, here I sit and tell you that I am the mother of 4, not 2.
Watching Ryan and Liam grow makes me wonder what the other two would be like at 5 and 3. I am comforted through the realization that God blessed me with them. They were tiny beings that taught me the true miracle of conception and life and to never take either one for granted.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Truth #4
Yeah, I've been slacking. I'm sorry, but life has a way of throwing multiple baseballs straight at your face all at one time.
Anyway, on to the 4th truth...
I HATE MOVING. Brett and I, my in-laws and a couple fabulous friends helped us move 5 miles down the road yesterday. We rented a 27' Uhaul thinking that it would be enough to move us in 1 trip. Think again my friends! How much is too much in regards, to toys for 2 little boys? The answer to that is a full 27' foot truck load. Yes, 27' of toys. TOYS! Toys that couldn't just go in a box. Swings, power wheels, basketball goals, Little People, tonka trucks, jumperoo, play mat, every "sports stick" known to man (golf clubs, lax sticks, etc.)... the list goes on. I'm in the process of rethinking birthdays and Christmas this year.
This move was brought on by the owner of the house we were renting putting it on the market.We had 1 day to move everything, clean and turn in the keys by 5pm yesterday. We made our deadline thankfully! If we didn't make our deadline we would have had to pay double rent and we didn't want to (and couldn't) do that. I wasn't in love with the house on Brook St. by any stretch of the imagination. We loved it when we saw it, but after we moved in, we quickly realized it didn't fit our family style. Kitchen too small, an upstairs bonus room we never use, too small bedrooms, crazy bathrooms, weird floorplan and a useless backyard.
So after 15 exhausting hours of heavy lifting we've moved all of our "junk" into a 4 bedroom, ranch with a 2 car garage, big kitchen, HUGE living room and 2 full bathrooms! It's the simple things that I used to take for granted that make me happy now. When we looked at the house on Brook St. 15 months ago we didn't notice that one of the bathrooms didn't have any power outlets. Do you know how difficult it is to dry your hair without an outlet to plug it in to? Little things like that make moving worth it.
I have "battle wounds" from our move, I'm a walking zombie today and getting ready for work and school this morning for the 4 of us was beyond challenging. However, we are moved and on the way to better living! :)
Cheers to boxes!
Anyway, on to the 4th truth...
I HATE MOVING. Brett and I, my in-laws and a couple fabulous friends helped us move 5 miles down the road yesterday. We rented a 27' Uhaul thinking that it would be enough to move us in 1 trip. Think again my friends! How much is too much in regards, to toys for 2 little boys? The answer to that is a full 27' foot truck load. Yes, 27' of toys. TOYS! Toys that couldn't just go in a box. Swings, power wheels, basketball goals, Little People, tonka trucks, jumperoo, play mat, every "sports stick" known to man (golf clubs, lax sticks, etc.)... the list goes on. I'm in the process of rethinking birthdays and Christmas this year.
This move was brought on by the owner of the house we were renting putting it on the market.We had 1 day to move everything, clean and turn in the keys by 5pm yesterday. We made our deadline thankfully! If we didn't make our deadline we would have had to pay double rent and we didn't want to (and couldn't) do that. I wasn't in love with the house on Brook St. by any stretch of the imagination. We loved it when we saw it, but after we moved in, we quickly realized it didn't fit our family style. Kitchen too small, an upstairs bonus room we never use, too small bedrooms, crazy bathrooms, weird floorplan and a useless backyard.
So after 15 exhausting hours of heavy lifting we've moved all of our "junk" into a 4 bedroom, ranch with a 2 car garage, big kitchen, HUGE living room and 2 full bathrooms! It's the simple things that I used to take for granted that make me happy now. When we looked at the house on Brook St. 15 months ago we didn't notice that one of the bathrooms didn't have any power outlets. Do you know how difficult it is to dry your hair without an outlet to plug it in to? Little things like that make moving worth it.
I have "battle wounds" from our move, I'm a walking zombie today and getting ready for work and school this morning for the 4 of us was beyond challenging. However, we are moved and on the way to better living! :)
Cheers to boxes!
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