Simon Peter

Was Jesus' friend. When Jesus asked, "Who do you think I am?" Peter was the only disciple brave enough to answer back, "God's Son, the Messiah." Then Jesus said, "On this rock I will build my church." Matthew 16:18

This is the simple story that I told over breakfast this morning with H&L. I read the story and showed them the black and white line drawing of cartoon illustrated Jesus and Peter. Checking for comprehension I asked, "who is this?" and Harper said, "is Jesus." Then I pointed to Peter and said, "and who is this?" and Harper said, "is two Jesuses!" Not quite baby, but I'm sure there is a lesson in omnipotence there somewhere, right?

Anyway, I repeated Jesus' declare and asked them to say it with me. My three year old girls repeated, "On this rock I build my church!" and it occurred to me, "why is this the first time I have requested that they repeat Scripture back to me?" It seems like they are having fun and their words are intelligible...

Oh yea, because they are three.

But it also occurred to me that now is the perfect time. In the same way that they love and adore the idea of going to the beach or to the park to feed the ducks, they love and adore "Jesus." Why not foster this love and adoration? And how appropriate is it that the first verse that they lock into their memories and hearts be, "On this rock I will build my Church?"

Such a precious moment in my day.

Thank you Peter for your bravery.

Thank you Jesus for your Church.

5k Tuesday

A LONG time ago I posted about beginning the "Couch to 5 K" program. At the time I was doubtful and, honestly, not really looking forward to doing the whole running thing. I could jog 3-5 minutes then have to walk and dreaded the next jogging interval. I stuck with it though! If you are not a "runner" then don't tune out just yet...

Within 2 weeks I could feel my body changing and my ability to strengthen actually happening! Short 3-5 minute jogging intervals began to turn into 7-9 minutes intervals and there were times that I didn't even want to stop, even going uphill. I am amazed by the human body on so many levels.

I have survived two serious car accidents (neither time was I wearing a seat belt), recovered from several surgeries, given birth, gained weight, lost the weight, and am now running an average of 9 miles a week. I have never felt better, both in body and in spirit.

At the end of January I participated in my first 5k race in Prattville. It was a beautiful yet COLD day. I ran the first 16 minutes and needed to slow down the middle part of the race by going back to intervals. I managed to run the final mile and cross the finish line in under 38 minutes. As cliche as it sounds it really was the most gratifying to participate and finish rather than win.

As I got closer to the tape I look over and saw my prize: the man of my dreams and beautiful babies cheering for "Mommy."

Looking forward to:

Polar Bear Run

Resurrection Run

Footprints to the Finish-line

4th of July "I Run for the Party"

Interested in getting off the couch? Check this out:

Couch to 5k

Bird-days and Content-ness

This morning I was riding with my family of four to church. We don't play the radio during these thirty minute trips to "the Preferred City" (a nearby town, not the name of our Church, for all of you non Montgomerians.) We don't play the music stations or talk radio so that our family can talk. Having 2.5 year old twins means that Nick and I are doing most of the listening but you get what I am saying. Between the car ride and Sunday school there were some pretty good conversations. I'll fill you in on a couple.

Lily is obsessed right now with "birthdays." Anything birthday. Pointing out that candles have fire and cakes have candles and candles go on cakes and cakes are for birthdays. Singing the months of the year song at night and hearing me tell which family members' (immediate and extended family and friends) birthdays are in what months. The Birthday Song. We sing the Birthday Song to Campbell, to Rosemary, to Haddie, to Nini, to Mommy, to Daddy & sometimes... "to fill in the blank with a non-living object" such as, "happy birthday to time-out." If the thought has crossed Lil's mind during the day, then it deserves to be wished a "happy birthday" at night time before bed, after we read the Sharing Book.

Well, this morning, on the way to church, Lily started asking "Mama sing happ-ee bird-day?" I said, "Lily it is not anyone's birthday today, let's sing something else. We will sing "happy birthday" to Daddy on Wednesday because Wednesday is Daddy's birthday." Oops. Since I told that little true fact, and it is now 12:50p.m. Lily has stated that "Daddy will have a bird-day" in some form or fashion at least every half hour - assuring herself and me that we will sing the birthday song very soon, to Daddy.

As we made the exit off of the interstate, we had to wait a minute or two at a red light. You know how sometimes, when you are the passenger, your mind starts to drift as you stare past a nearby gas station or bait and tackle shop? Well my thoughts wondered back about a year and two months ago when Montgomery was getting Fallish and the sky was so blue and Thanksgiving and Christmas were just around the corner and I was un-diagnosed but positively depressed. The saddest I have ever been. I was painfully depressed about where I worked and more specifically for whom I worked (not to be mentioned or ellaborated on but trust me, I could write a book over the span of my life about what I learned and the tears I cried and couldn't fit it all in). When my mind came back, about the time we accelerated, leaving the red light, I looked at my Love, and said, "I am so happy. Remember this time last year when Sundays were the worst because it meant that Monday I was going back to "name of place I am not mentioning?"

"Yep" is all Nick said but I knew he knew exactly what I was saying.

"I am so happy right now in this season we are in" I said back.

and i mean it.

This is the best season of my entire life. I can't list out every thing that I am thankful for at home or in my relationships with my friends but as my list relates to my thought at the red light I will say that for the first time in my life I am so incredibly blessed by my full time job.

I look forward to Monday mornings when the coffee starts brewing at 6:05 and I hop in the shower, put on fresh ironed clothes, make the 4 minute commute, walk through the halls and am greeted by hundreds of smiling children's faces and other coworkers. My classroom is clean, organized, lit by two lamps and floor to ceiling windows that let in real sunlight. My room smells like apple cinnamon Glade plug-ins, paperback books, and pencils shavings.

During my day I write with inky felt tip pens, create with construction paper and glue sticks, play Go-Fish, diagram details of a story on a marker board, help memorize "sight words," laminate picture schedules, and re-inforce good citizenship by giving out stickers when I catch a student being helpful, kind, or patient.

My co-workers are really really nice and are also good at what they do and love doing it. I love my job. But for a long long time, this just wasn't so. At first I was just the odd one out - the new kid. Over the years it began to feel like not only was left out but I was sought out - to be punished, manipulated, and mistreated. Feeling like that made it really hard to find any joy from 8-4 Monday through Friday and not only then but on the weeknights and weekends because Monday was coming too soon to do it all over again. So many times I wondered, "why God? is it too much to ask for to be happy during the hours I am away from the ones I love the most?" Now, I have to cut myself off from my work knowing that it will still be there the next day and there are my personal duties and relationships waiting for me, often eating Nilla Wafers, sipping milk,wagging tail, and playing "scary cat" with my hero on the floor in the den when I walk in the door.

I am happy also because for the first time ever... I am just living- taking pleasure in the simplicity and comfort in routine. There isn't anything to wait on or figure out or hang on until. I am taking care of my body and have all that I need. In the past 8 weeks, Nick and I have had two very expensive emergencies occur and it hasn't once phased me to stress over it. We paid it and moved on. Spending time with friends and family isn't such a chore as it was when I was depressed because "time off" isn't "time away" or "time to turn off." Now it is blissful "time to be shared." Do you know what I am saying? When I was depressed, any time I had to myself I wasn't willing to share because there was nothing of myself I could give that wasn't required. It isn't like that now. I am not tired or irritable or unhealthy. I am awake, recharged, and seeing for the first time what it means to be completely content...

Thanks be to God.

Because I Don't Want to Forget

Tonight, rocking my two baby girls before bed, Harper said, "mama take a sunshine away?" Which means, "Mama sing You Are My Sunshine."

I sang.

Lily said, "no take it away? no take it away?" because she didn't want me to stop singing...

So I said, "babies, let's pray."

Babies tightly clasped their little hands together and Harper beats me to it and she says,

"Dee God,

Tank-a a Mama...

"Yes baby, thank you for Mama"

"Tank-a a Dada..."

"Yes baby, thank you for Dada, and God thank you for Harper, and Lily, and Ali and for this day..."

"an tank-a a tu tu's???"

"yes baby, thank God for tutus too" ( as in the pink and purple ballet tutus the girls wore around the house tonight for an hour before bath time).

And we all said, "Amen."

Well, except for Lily who said, "no amen? no amen?" because she wasn't ready to be finished praying.

Thanks be to God.

Right Steph?

The Long Walk Home

Did you ever watch the movie "The Long Walk Home," filmed here in Montgomery, Alabama in 1990. I was 8 years old when my dad took me to Cloverdale school for try outs and casting. My parents were shocked and pleasantly surprised when we received a call asking if I would be a "stand in" for Lexi Randall who played the character of Mary Katherine Thompson. Every day that summer, my mom, sister, and I would go to the set of the movie and I would get dressed in similar costumes to what she would be dressed in for her upcoming scene. While she practiced her lines I would "stand in" during rehearsal and play her part so that producers could test lighting and other technical responsibilities that goes with filming a movie. I remember wandering, alone, around the set one morning and feeling "caught" when a black lady, dressed as a maid, met me in the doorway of one of the rooms. I looked up at her, she held her hand out for me to shake, she asked, "what's your name?" I told her "Laura" and she said, "I'm Whoopie, it is nice to meet you." I ran back to Mama and was giddy with excitement but had to wait until she got off the telephone to tell her that I had just met a movie star! While I waited, I remember smelling my hand and noticing how my hand smelled like soap and cocoa butter lotion. In between takes I can also remember playing the game of "Operation" with Lexi and some of the other children on the set. I was paid $50 a day to be a part of this incredible movie production and, ultimately,once in a life time experience. My parents would have probably paid them to let me be a part of it! What a neat experience?

Today, my mother called me to tell me that the movie was showing on BET. I watched the whole movie start to finish. I have seen it before but today it was different watching. I am grown now with children of my own. I have 6 years experience working in the Montgomery Public Schools in neighborhoods of town now considered "bad parts of town" where I am the minority. The board of education and special education office is just down the street from the church where Dr. Martin Luther King preached about civil rights and equality. The big houses on Court Street and Oak Park all featured in the film are all real life places that I grew up around and until today took for granted. Today I watched this movie and I got choked up at certain moments and full out cried during other moments. I realized, though will never understand or feel, the awfulness of what blacks went through - and in some ways are going through today. I also realized that being from Montgomery and living here today is a huge privilege, in my opinion, because it is the birthplace of such a profound movement in American and World History. When I visit my in-laws in Selma, I don't drive over the Edmond Pettus bridge without remembering the individuals who marched and their cause and personal sacrifices.

As I watched "The Long Walk Home" I thought about how far the civil rights movement has come and how far it has to go, not just for black Americans but for anyone denied their civil rights. One of my close friends Adriana, a black woman, was visiting me, Harper, and Lily, one day last week and like during most of our visits, we got on the topic of things that annoy whites and blacks and how she and I play a role in our daily inter-racial interactions. I cherish her friendship on many levels. One, first and foremost, I love her for who she is and the friend connection we have. Harper also seems especially fond of her. She always climbs up in Adrianna's lap and while Harper play with Adriana's earrings, Adrianna plays with Harper's hair! But Harper really likes when "Adri-nana" shares her McDonald's french fries! Second, I cherish her friendship because she and I can be totally uncensored and REAL in discussing what is still dividing our two races - in both spoken and unspoken ways.

Dr. Lena Williams is the author of a book called "It's the Little Things" which I am currently reading. She writes about "community groups" of mixed races that meet in individuals' households to talk about "little things that annoy and divide the races." Adrianna and I kind of have a little community group of our own and I sometimes wonder if we should invite others to come along and join in discussions like the ones we have. Who would come? What could happen?

So I am thinking about civil rights today. The faces of those denied. The color of those faces, the faith of those faces, the sexual preferences of those faces, the sex or gender of those faces, the list goes on and on. The spectrum is so broad... forgive the pun.

Mother's Meltdown

Well I had a melt down of sorts today. Not a big one with pouting and tears and "why me" and all that. Just a little one. One that comes with a sudden need to be alone and quiet and not needed - sounds really really selfish right? It didn't take long. An hour or so. And in that time I sat on out guest bed, then I took a bath. I thought and thought and thought. Melt downs don't come often but but boy when they do...

The day started out as days around here usually do. Got the kids up and coffee poured and started in on chore 1, 2, and 3. Then, all of a sudden, I hit a wall where I asked "am I doing enough?" For myself? More importantly for my children? It all boils down to this simple fact:

I am not a "stay at home mom" by definition so pretending to be one for 8 weeks in the summer time has had it's ups and suddenly today, it's takes DOWN - Ironically on the exact same day that I patted myself on the back for letting my kids watch T.V and in the same boast bragged that my kids don't suffer from watching too much T.V. And that is still a true fact. But what I am noticing is that in these 8 weeks my kids have gotten entirely t-totally attached to ME... literally. I cannot hold one enough. I cannot play with ONE enough, not to mention both of them. I cannot feed them enough - exhibited when Lily gets bored she asks to "EAT!" Now, even when I close the door to use the restroom I see two little shadows under the door and hear whimpers of Mama? Mama? Mama? while I say, "Mama needs privacy! Be patient" When the truth is, it is hard for me to keep mine... this being "needed" all day, every minute of the day.

There are a lot of women out there who pout and gripe about not being able to stay at home with their kids which is a really nice way to say "not work." I can even remember sitting at my parents' kitchen table while the twins were in the NICU literally crying on the table because Nick and I couldn't find a financial way to let me stay home with them. And now, I thank God for it. I love my kids. I love spending time with my kids and I love parenting them. More. Than. Anyone. Will. Ever. Know.

But here is the thing... I know a couple of stay at home moms and they do the job supremely well. And you know what I have learned? Being a "stay at home mom" means rarely do you stay at home. You see, my girls are 2 years old now... they are learning and growing and "waking up" so to speak. I emailed a stay at home mom friend today and said, "it is almost as if H&L are growing too big for our house." That isn't it she reassured me...

They need to get out... they want to get out. They don't know that is what they need... but it is. It is really hard to admit all of this because I feel... FAILURE. And trust me, I am NOT looking for a wash of sympathy or encouragement in posting all of this. If anything, I hope that someone is reading this and saying, "yea... me too, whew."

It isn't like we sit around and eat cereal all day. We DO STUFF. But I reached a point today in realizing that they just aren't babies anymore. They are little people. That is why I am excited to be more creative in the coming weeks while I am still playing "stay at home mom." And because I do have to go back to work in 2 weeks I am really blessed and excited for them to go to a Mother's Day Out program at our church in 6 weeks.

I can't count the number of times I thought about erasing this post and just shutting up... but that wouldn't be keeping it real... sharing the baby steps.

July 5th, part II

After my lunch time feast for one, I loaded the babies to go on a stroll. I thought it would be nice to get outdoors and enjoy the overcast skies and cooler temps. About a mile and a half away from our house, only half way through with the course I had planned on completing I realized that the sun was fully out, it was pretty darn humid, and I didn't bring my water bottle. The babies, however, were each clinging to their sippy cups filled to the brim with ice cold water/apple juice mixture. Here is my question:

How do you teach your children "mercy?"

They know how to "share" and "give" and "take turns" mostly because when they do these things with each other Mommy praises each one by telling each baby how sweet she is and that sharing is the right thing to do. At home, if one refuses to give the other a turn with (fill in the blank) Mommy usually intercedes and shows the proper way to share and more praises follow. They have learned, like Pavlov's dogs, that when you hear the word "share" you should "give" and Mommy will "sing."

Mercy... is an entirely different concept than this. You see, with the temperature outside easily 100 degrees and me pushing 40 pounds uphill some of the way, I WAS HOT AND GETTING IN NEED OF HYDRATION. I said, "babies, mommy is thirsty and needs a sip. will you share?"

Both babies said, "no" and clung tighter to their beloved sippy cups.

Hmm...

Again, "babies, share with mommy, one sip. mommy is thirsty, please. please, share." (this works with sharing Mrs. Potato Head)

Again, "Nome, no no no cup."

I stopped the stroller and said, "because you will not share mommy is taking the cup and going to have a sip. you will share with mommy."

I took a swig from each cup and the girls actually thought it was funny. They giggled. And I am sure it was a sight to see - grown woman on the side of the road drinking from her babies' bright orange sippy cups. Of course when I was finished I gave the cups back and said, "thank you babies."

So, the sharing thing they have got down pat. Mercy, however, will take some time.