Yes, I'm a dork...

...because I take a picture of my kids on the first day of the new school year. Every year.

This week I was being all sentimental (have I mentioned we have a SENIOR this year?) and I pulled out the old photos of each of our kids’ first day of kindergarten.

Where do the years go?

So for your viewing pleasure...

Here's Jack on his first day of "reception" in the UK. they start at age 4:

And here he is today - a 4th grader. Actually, in the UK he would be in year 5, starting middle school. At the age of 9. Crazy, huh?

This is August 1999 - Sam's uniform tie lasted one day...

and now a sophomore (translated from latin: wise fool?)

August 1997 - i kinda miss the uniform days.

And who thought 2010 would come so quickly?

I was wondering earlier this week if this would be our last "first day of school" picture for Chelsea. Then my friend, Kris, showed a photo on her phone yesterday. Her daughter, a freshman, far away at college, sent a her mom picture of herself on the first day of classes. So there's hope... :-)

Water-colored Ponies...

Many moons ago, before we had kids, there was a musician named Wayne Watson who sang a song about water-colored ponies. The lyrics speak of how overwhelming it is to parent little ones, that our vision becomes so narrow and we forget to enjoy every moment. Then one day, the water-colored ponies (or whatever the unrecognizable artwork is on your refrigerator door) ride away.

Our first water-colored pony is getting ready to ride away. She’ll be a SENIOR in high school on Tuesday. (I know, they consider themselves seniors as soon as they finish their exams junior year. But whatever.)

In a recent conversation I was asked what brings me to my knees to pray, and my answer was my kids. Parenting has been one of those awesome responsibilities that is overwhelming sometimes. Okay, a lot of times. My prayer has always been for my kids’ hearts and minds to be protected, and for them to grow in wisdom so that we can send them into the world as individuals who love God and love people. And for them to grow into the unique creations that they are.

So I’m on my knees again. And we’re preparing to embrace this senior year with all the lasts and firsts that it may bring.

Here is Chelsea in kindergarten August 1997 - uniform and all.

What's funny is that her new back pack for kindergarten is purple. Shortly after,she abandoned purple as a favorite color. But this year was new backpack year in our house -and she chose a purple backpack!

Here's her senior yearook portrait.

The "real" senior photo shoot is tomorrow!

Anticipation...

When you hear or read the word anticipation what do you think?

The first thing I think of is the ketchup commercial back in the ‘70’s. I think it was Heinz. But after that, I think about the excitement in waiting for something. Like when friends or family are coming for a visit. Especially if you haven’t seen them in a long while.

There is some anticipation going on in our house tonight. Tomorrow some dear friends from Bromsgrove, England will be arriving. We can’t wait!

Ken and Val (aka Uncle Ken and Auntie Val) are some of the very first people we met when Dave and I first visited Bromsgrove in early 2002. In fact, we stayed with them. And they were at the airport to greet our family when we arrived to live there in October 2002. And that whole week they were with us almost every day helping us shop, bank, visit schools, etc.

Uncle Ken and Auntie Val were there when we moved houses and when we celebrated birthdays; they worked alongside us, they babysat for us and they were there when we were struggling, too.

Jack always knew that he would have a stash of toys to play with at their house, not to mention a stash of Cadbury Fingers. Really, they spoiled our children rotten. Like grandparents. Whenever we saw them, no matter how often, it was hugs all around for everyone.

We haven’t seen them in almost 4 years. So, needless to say, we are anticipating their arrival tomorrow evening! And we are hoping our ears can still decipher their Welsh and Brummy (Birmingham) accents. ;-)

there's something about sam

August is a big month for Sam. So I thought I'd blog about him.

Sam. He's our second-born. Our first son. Our middle child. We named him Samuel and called him that until he was 3 weeks old.

At three weeks we took him into the ER on a Sunday afternoon. We thought about waiting and calling the doctor Monday morning, but something got the better of us and I called the doc on Sunday afternoon - she recommended we head to Children's Hospital. So we did. And they said it's a good thing we did. Monday morning may have been too late.

That week in Children's Hospital we started calling him Sammy. Over the years Sam has had lots of nicknames: Bubba; Sambo; Sam the man; Sam I am.
And many words have been associated with Sam - or at least his intense interests: trains, dinosaurs, astronomy, legos, bionicles, math, science, ancient languages, philosophy, theology. The list grows as he does.

And there's always been something about Sam. Eventually the professionals informed us that the "something" is Asperger's, or high functioning autism.
But to us he is simply Sam. He's smart. He's clever. He sees, hears and smells things that we don't. He thinks outside the box. The way his brain works baffles and amazes us.

More importantly, he's kind, sensitive and has a huge heart.

And he's growing up. We know this because of all that he is accomplishing - like this month.

Friday Sam got his first pair of contact lenses.

Saturday Sam earned his blue belt in Hapkido.

Today Sam finished the classroom portion of driver's ed.

In 7 days Sam will get his braces off.

Soon after he will drive with an instructor and then get his permit.

Oh yeah, and he'll be a sophomore in high school!

It's date night...

There is a long-standing tradition in our home. Probably the longest standing tradition. Except for chocolate gravy, of course. Each child gets to go on a date with dad on or around their birthday.

They pick the location. But they can't go on their date until the previous birthday child has had their date. (You see, sometimes we let life get in the way and we get behind...)

We got this idea from my childhood, when my dad did the same thing. Now, I don't remember how many years he did it. But I do remember my choice was usually putt-putt golf and Long John Silver's Seafood Shoppe (can you hear the little jingle?) Meanwhile my sister chose expensive restuarants. I think my dad had more fun on my dates. :-)

From the time we started (probably about 13 or 14 years ago) Dave has faithfully taken each of our kids out to their place of choice. And over the years, when we visit fun places, we hear our kids say "I want this to be my next birthday date."

Tonight is different. It's a birthday date. But not for one of the kids. It was Chelsea's birthday gift to Dave.

A date with Dad. That's right - a 17 year-old is taking her Dad out on a date.

Oh, and for those of you wondering. No it's not anywhere near Dave's birthday. That's in December. Once again, life has gotten in the way.

Here is one of Chelsea and Daddy's first brithday dates. Can you tell where it is?

Here is last years's date. Can you tell where this is?

Chelsea turns 18 in September - I wonder what she'll choose for her birthday date.

Oh - and for Mother's Day Chelsea gave me a date to get a manicure or pedicure together. The last manicure I had was in 1992. Really. Which should I do - mani or pedi?

random summer thoughts

Summer is the season in life that seems random. So many different things going on. No regular schedule week to week. Sometimes day to day.

This summer seems particularly random for our family. There is no one event that is the focus of our summer. Rather, there is so much going on, we are just staying focused on the next event in front of us until it's over, then we move on to the next upcoming event.

NYC mission trip, family vacay to TX, family trip to NY, Chelsea's mission trip to Haiti. And in between each I find myself frantic to keep up with the things here at home - like senior protraits, dentist appointments, and the gauntlet of appointments to get Sam's braces off in August.

Oh yeah, then there's making sure my kids are doing their summer school assignments, preparing to get college applications done, preparing for friends to visit from England, taking part in a research study on autism.

And there's the perpetual question: "Can we go swimming?"

Oh, and the boyfriend. That's new for us. Learning to figure out curfews and having our daughter "out" a lot.

It's times like these that I throw in the towel on keeping the house clean or keeping up with a weekly dinner plan. We sort of live day to day. Which is hard for me to do.

Except in the summer. Summer is so random.

I think that's why summer memories are so fun.

Here are some of our fun summer memories so far.

Visiting my mom and stepdad in Texas - thoroughly enjoying Mexican food.

A visit to NASA in Houston... look who we ran into.

A suprise 50th anniversary party for Dave's parents in NY state. These are all their grandkids (minus Joel and his wife.)

While in NY we decided to visit Niagara Falls. We got as close as we could...

Speaking of random summer schedules. As I blog this, Dave came in from work, and within ten minutes had decided to go to a movie with Sam and Jack. They're gone now.

No big deal. We'll eat a late dinner. No need for a schedule. 'Cause it's summer.

But I gotta get dinner going so Chelsea can eat. You see, she has a date.

Ahhhh.... summer.

What memories are you making this summer?

We're rich!

Driving east out of Dallas, heading homeward on Sunday afternoon, Jack said, "Mom and Dad, you have a lot of friends in Dallas."

Dave answered, "Yes, we're very rich, aren't we?"

As we drove down the highway (and drove, and drove and drove...) I refelcted on that very brief conversation.

Yes we are rich. Not because of the number of friends we have. But because of our friends.

Our few days in Dallas were filled with meeting after meeting with friends that we had come to know in our 10 years living in Dallas. Whether we met for coffee or in their homes, or at their lakehouse it all began with bear hugs all around and telling the kids "last time I saw you, you were this big..."

But never did it take long for us to step right back into our friendship. Catching up. Sharing our lives with one another. When our kids were with us, our friends took great interest in their lives.

It was like we had never left. Despite it being years since we were last together.

While it wasn't said explicitly to our kids, I think it was apparent. These were the friends we did life with all those years ago. We laughed together and cried together; we played together and worked together; we faced conflict together, and sometimes had conflict between us.

And nine years after moving away from all of them, we were welcomed back into their homes and lives as if we had never left.

We are very rich.