thankful (ˈθæŋkfʊl) — (adj) grateful and appreciative

I decided the other day that I needed to blog and mentally blogged a wonderful post!  Now that I'm putting words on my screen, I'm a little lost.

The holidays are here along with the excitement and stress that comes with these blissfully hectic weeks.  Those close to us know that this year has been especially difficult for us financially.  Our bills keep increasing yet I remained furloughed.  With that said, we have been blessed on many occasions by our nearest and dearest.  Chris and I have the best families and friends that have allowed God to use them to bless us in many ways.  And some may not have realized just how much of a blessing they have been.  I know this is God's way of teaching us humility!  God has blessed us with a nice cozy little house filled with the pitter patter of little feet and loud voices.  He has also given us nice vehicles to transport all the precious cargo.  We have never missed a meal (although I could probably stand to miss a few.)

Have I mentioned how thankful I am??

I was recently checking out my insurance claims and realized that I have only had to go to the doctor with a sick child 1 (ONE!) time this whole year.  And I have 4 children, in case you lost track!  I have no doubt that God has His hands on my family's life.  (Of course, I like to think that their health is also related to them being breastfed!)  :)

My brutally honest child, Caiden, made an announcement at home the other day, "You know, Mom?  We really are lucky.  We have a Wii, an XBox 360, and 2 TVs in our house."  Yes, son, we are EXTREMELY blessed!

Here's my Grammy award speech:

Today, I would like to thank God first and foremost for always providing.  Thanks to my family and dearest friends for always being willing to offer a hand or an ear.  I love each and every one of you and can only hope that one day you will truly know what you mean to me!

Teach, Teacha!

So I've realized that I have not updated my blog in quite some time.  I've been accused of being MIA recently.

Here goes...

What have I been doing since this blog post?

Teaching, my friends, teaching.  But let me break it down for ya.  In the first 5 weeks of school I have awoken @ 5:45 a.m. to get ready and drop off my babies at daycare so that I can arrive to my school by 7:20 a.m.  I have met and am currently trying to remember the names of all of my approximately 250 students, 1/4 of those are new to our school.  (I couldn't imagine having to know all 750 of our students!)  I have worked alongside our Kindergarten teachers who are "blessed" with 30 babies students in their classrooms.  (Once again, I couldn't imagine more than 1 hour a day in those rooms.)  I have received countless hugs and waves (germs come with the territory) that would brighten anyone's day.  On the other hand I have encountered the most disrespectful remarks that would make (insert most disrespectful person you can think of here) feel ashamed.  I have tied shoes, fixed hair bows, buckled belts, and snapped snaps.  Students have proudly shown me new clothes/shoes and other homeless students have shown me how it smells to not have a bath for a long time. 

So far this school year, I have delighted in having my students show me what they have learned so far but I have also had my heart broken when a child is picked on for what they are wearing or because they are "different."  I have celebrated birthdays and called parents for behavior issues.  And as a parent, I have been called for "lazy" issues. I have had pictures drawn for me and former students expressing to me how they miss me this year.  I have had students tell me that they "don't want to learn Spanish.  I'm not ever going to go to China anyway."  I feel like a failure when I don't reach the unreachable but I feel like a million dollars when I do.  Believe it or not, I wake up everyday and do what I love to do.  It's a passion.  A way of life for me.  Some days I don't like my passion and I wish it would go away.  At the end of the day, I couldn't imagine another passion.  I love the Spanish language and culture and I love children. 

I ask for prayer for myself and my fellow teachers at my school.  We have a heavy load this year with full classrooms and MANY students that are not academically up to par.  Not only that, just watch the news.

***Please note that any reference of "I" can be replaced with "We, teachers"

9.5...officially.

Nine and a half.

I know, I know.  You're asking what the big deal is.  The honey and I decided to celebrate a half anniversary this year.  Various reasons behind the idea.  This is my version of the story:

I bought a groupon a few months ago for the bed & breakfast where Chris and I stayed on our wedding night.  Our wedding anniversary is always around MLK Jr. weekend so technically we always have the option of the 3 day weekend.  But let's face it.  Our anniversary is exactly 3 weeks after Christmas and January is not a good time of the year for us financially.  Which is exactly why we have arrived at 9.5 years of marriage and the only time Chris and I have been anywhere by ourselves-NO KIDS-was our honeymoon.  (Yes, I still feel like I have to justify being away from them.)

I decided that since I was still on my summer vacation that we should take a night out of the weekend and cash in on this one-in-a-9.5-year opportunity since I know that our decennial anniversary will probably be a nice dinner.  (If we're fortunate enough.)

I have to say that it was so nice to have my husband's undivided attention even if it was a short period of time.  Even better was not having to play paper, rock, scissors to see who was doing bath/bedtime with the babies.  It also was the perfect end to a delightfully short summer.  (Did my use of the word "delightfully" remind anyone else of the Hooter's slogan?)

Now, here's the version from Chris that I promised:

Dawn and I are going to a hotel for the night.

*sigh*  Such a romantic!

I can't write a quick blog without giving proper credit to my mommy, AKA Super Gra-nanny, for caring for our offspring so that we could enjoy some time together.  I'm so grateful for her because I never have to worry about the kids when they're with her.  (I do have to worry about her, though!) :)  Of course, she did say something about having 2 messes to clean up within the first 10 minutes that they arrived to her house.   Blah, blah, blah I say!  That, my dear, is what has made my summer so entertaining!

July: The most depressing time of the yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaarrrrrr!

(Note:  Title to be sung to the tune of Most Wonderful Time of the Year.)

Yeah, I said it. 

I should probably clarify that this mainly refers to teachers.  Our emotions can be accurately depicted with a bell curve.  From spring break until May we become increasingly less crabby happier.  After we have locked our classrooms or offices for the last time in a school year, we skip away at the height of our curve completely ignorant that another school year is peaking around the corner.

The peak starts to drop on June 30th.  On July 1st we awaken panicked and depressed because the summer is almost over.  We've accustomed ourselves to indoor hermit crab living and now we have to start preparing ourselves to enter the world of the living as pale zombie creatures scratching our way back to the laziness of summer.  Week 2 of July is usually a panicked succumber to time's constant passing with a realization that we have to do SOMETHING to classify the waning summer as somewhat productive. 

All the while, housework responsibilities tackled in the first week of summer vacation are creeping up because the last few weeks have been an emotional blubber of self-disappointment, self-pity, and last-minute plans "before the summer ends."  The downward spiral has already overtaken any power the already debilitated teacher has left. Thus the bell curve wins again and we bottom out just in time for all the kiddies to tell us their perpetual animated stories of what they did during summer.

Let's face it.  Summer is like chocolate.  We ALL love it but hate how we feel after shamelessly overindulging.

Los Padres

I'm laying here in bed on the Saturday night before Father's day and I'm kind of wishing I had planned a weekend trip like I did last year as a way to escape the reality of this weekend. Looking back on a blog I wrote in 2007 I made a comment about it being a hectic weekend because of accomodating all of the dads in my life. Boy, I would love to have that opportunity this year! You certainly never know when a holiday is the last one that you get to spend with a loved one. Make sure to give all the dads in your life some love this weekend. I'm so grateful I have my great husband and awesome father-in-law. Happy Father's day to them, my brother, Justin and my brother-in-law, Chuck! I love you all!
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Orange. It's the new "tan."

Since Father's day is upcoming I decided to blog a memory that I recalled this morning.  I recently posted on FB about a dream I had of my Daddy.  In my dream I could vividly recall every little detail about his looks, smells, behavior, etc.  I woke up just relieved that I haven't nor won't forget what he was like. 

This morning, I drove by Rooster's restaurant as I do sometimes several times daily and had a flashback. Spring/early summer 2007. Daddy was arriving back in town and needed me to pick him up from his truck yard.  I noticed when he sat in my car that his beard looked a little different but didn't think anymore about it.

Disclaimer:  Daddy was always trying home remedies (drinking vinegar and sometimes kerosene; daily doses of peroxide in his ears to turn the hair around his ears blonde).  With that said, there was no telling what he was "experimenting" with now.

Mom met us up at Rooster's for lunch and as we sat down at the table I started realizing that his face and beard had an orange tint.  I don't remember if I asked him about it or if he volunteered the information but he explained the discoloration to me very nonchalantly.

Apparently after a shower the day before he went to use some of my mom's lotion for his face because his skin was dry.  He didn't realize that it was her self tanner!  I laughed so hard because he really did not care if anyone saw him looking like an Oompa Loompa.  Nor did he bother trying to scrub it off...his face was moisturized: orange, streaky, and all!

I would give anything to call him for lunch today, Oompa Loompa or not. Memories aren't the same as having him but they'll have to do for now.

sextuple u?

Disclaimer:  If you didn't think I was a dork (not whale anatomy) before this blog you will after reading.

 

I've decided to share a conversation had a while back with my husband in the vehicle.  While listening to the radio there was an ad where the person was giving a web address.  Of course the person said "double-u, double-u, dot" missing the 3rd "double-u" which is one of my many pet peeves.  So what if I'm petty?  While expressing my annoyance with my husband I started to realize something.  Instead of saying "double-u, double-u, double-u" (www) can't we just say "sextuple-u" and it mean the same thing??  I mean that would technically be uuuuuu but if we're just tripling doubles can't we just say six or sextuple to make it easy?

I'm going back into hiding now.

el verano

It's official.

Summer.

*sigh*

A teacher's dream and a mom's biggest challenge.

I blogged here about plans for this summer and I felt the need to update since it is officially day 3.  Monday was a teacher work day so summer began for mi familia on Tuesday.  I'm sad to report that my day 1 was even lazier than I jokingly planned.  Even sadder is that I was just going to make hot dogs for lunch but my children insisted on ABCs and 123s. 

I did make up for it yesterday however.  Being as I told myself in the 2 weeks prior to the school year's end that I could just put off laundry til summer I caught up yesterday.  I hate despise loathe socks.  I think there is a special place in hell for murderers and child molesters where they have to pair socks for an eternity.

With that said, Wednesday (day 2) was spent on laundry and (finally) putting away winter clothes.  Oh, and I gave the bedrooms a nice clean and toy dumping.

Day 3 started at 6:45 with a blonde-haired, blue-eyed 18-month-old calling "Mama" from his crib.  No, it never works to put him in the bed with us because he just plays and practices ALL the words he knows.  Not to be put out by an early morning, this mama went for a walk/jog.  Unfortunately it's been about 3 weeks since I have even worn my tennis shoes that I did more walking than jogging.

Why, hello there, cup of joe.  Don't disappoint.

And the beat goes on...

Another school year under our belt.  And wow at what a year!  The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of excitement, preparations, and endings to some good times.  I have been working with my students on their Honors Day programs and I have to say I'm pretty excited for my 5th grade students and their performance.  I'll post more later.

Last week I went to Skylar and Caiden's field days and I made sure they both went with lots of spirit!  I was inspired by the Blue Man Crew so this is the result...

Unfortunately, the principal was not impressed and made him take off the face paint. :)  Still can't squash the Johnson spirit!  He did awesome!  His class came in 1st place overall with his own contributions of three 1st place and one 2nd place ribbon.  Makes a mama proud! 

Now onto Caiden...

We learned our lesson and decided not to go completely blue.  (Fortunately they were both blue this year.)  His class placed 3rd place overall with personal ribbons consisting of three 1st place, one 2nd place, and one 3rd place.

This mama is proud of her babies!!!

Have I mentioned how proud I am?  Ok, just checking!



Hot town, summer in the city!

ALAS! 

The end of the school year is upon us.  As a teacher I am elated, but as a mother that means that I still have to prepare lesson plans.  At this point my plans consist of:

• breakfast (yes, poptarts count) 
• TV time (Sesame Street and Spongebob)
• outside play time (mommy tanning time)
• lunch (canned ABCs and 123s)
• nap time (yes, they are going to let me sleep)
• snack time (Cheez-its anyone?)

• Daddy comes home and gives mommy a break.

I kid!  So I may have exaggerated just slightly.  I am working on a "meal plan" (*sigh*) so that we don't even have to think about commercially sealed and canned goodness.  (I will not let the microwave define me as a mother, I will not let the microwave define me as a mother, I will NOT let the microwave define me as a mother.)  Outside play time is only in the morning so we are OUT of the sun AKA heat, so no tanning for mommy.  (The cancerous ball of fire will make my skin more wrinkly anyway!)  Nap time?  Yeah, that's a joke.  My soon-to-be 3 year old is not a fan of naps.  "Nap time" should therefore be changed to "Don't kill your brother time."  The only truth about my schedule is actually snacktime.  I should've invested in Cheez-its and Goldfish stock.

And here's another picture to make you drool...

So, my summertime lesson plans will include multiple trips to the library, the park next door, and possible trips to Carmike on Thursdays.  No big ideas, essential questions, or student objectives.  "Students will be able to be lazy."  How's that for a lesson plan??

Happy teacher's day.

If you can read this, thank a teacher.  (Or your parents--whoever is responsible for teaching you to read.)

Robin eggs.

No, no. I'm not referring to nature and springtime.  I'm talking about the candy coated whopper goodness that arrives this time of year. Just so happens to be my favorite Easter candy.

My candy splurge began with my 7 year old's Easter egg hunt on Wednesday.  "Baby, bring Mommy all your chocolate, please?"  Yesterday was Jace's hunt which was also quickly confiscated by the Queen Bee. Today will be another hunt in which I am like a child waiting for Christmas.

Yes, I am THAT teacher that doesn't give out treats because I eat them all.  Yes, I am THAT socialistic mother that makes all her children pour all their candy into one bucket so we can all share more candy.

Don't roll your eyes, because you know you do it too!  All this candy talk around holidays reminds me of a Johnny Test episode where the kid decides to create a holiday between Easter and Halloween just for candy.  It's a pretty genious idea being as candy from Halloween CAN last until Christmas.  That candy until Valentine's day and that candy until Easter.  It makes sense to have another "holiday" (minus the holy part, I guess) to break the long time between spring and fall.

Johnny Test



With all the candy talk, I most certainly have not forgotten why we celebrate holidays, Easter in particular. I am grateful that I have been forgiven much in my life and will take the opportunity this weekend to reflect on a huge sacrifice made for me.  I know that it is my responsibility as a mom to explain the true meaning of Easter to my children even though they can't completely comprehend the enormity of Jesus' death.

Happy Easter to all and to all a good night!

TEW

The following is a blog I wrote in 2007 when my best friend decided to move 4 hours away.  I'm omitting a lot of the juice but couldn't think of a better way to begin a blog than by this small paragraph.

A best friend that sticks by your side for almost eight (twelve now!) years straight...come hell or high water.  It started on the drive to her house on Northampton in 1999 in her Accent when she made a phone call to her brother saying, "Hey, I'm bringing home company.  Can you hurry and sweep.  I'm at the stop sign." 
This was my type of girl...

Once again my BFF is moving to another city.  Only an hour and a half away but still away.  Oh-I meant to say moved...past tense.  Kind of like a thief in the night! 

I consider myself to be very blessed in this little thing called life-great husband, smart and healthy children, super supportive and loving family, a place over my head, a vehicle to drive, food on my table, last but most certainly not least-a Tiffany.  No, no-my Tiffany is not sold in stores nor am I willing to share.  She always plays a very important role in my strong support system that encourage me to follow my dreams.  She's also quick to give me a reality check on my wonderful "epiphanies."

For what it's worth, we have endured many things in this life together.  Here's to many more memories!!!!  I love you, Ms. White!

Beach pics-May 2006

Is spring broken already?

So, it's officially over.  Spring break proved to be quite rainy and cool but I enjoyed it nonetheless.  I'm not sure if other teachers feel my same sentiments but I am almost glad spring break is over so that we can hurry up to finish out the school year. 

Just for the record: the 6-7 weeks post spring break without a holiday is equal to an elementary teacher's eternity.  It's comparable to the six weeks before Christmas for retail employees.  We're just trying to survive it, that's all.  We have testing, field days, honors days, graduation, etc.  It's truly amazing what a school can cram into such a short time period.  Did you notice I mentioned nothing about Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic?  Because it doesn't happen. 

We enjoyed a very relaxing breaking of spring.  Of course I had to make sure that Jace and Ty stayed on their routine so they went to daycare. :)  I relaxed, cleaned the house, relaxed some more, cleaned my van, and relaxed even more.  No complaints here!  I even managed to pretend to be creative.

I'm sooooooooo ready to break summer...

Number 3 of 4

That's my birth order number (also known as a middle child).  For the record, I just so happen to share that spot with my mother and Jace.  If you've never done any research on birth order and the effect on one's personality it would be worth the Google one day.  I read Kevin Leman's book many years ago and would have to agree with most of the psychology especially because I live with an only child!

When I learned that I was pregnant with Ty (and overcame the shock), I immediately realized that Jace and I have the wonderful connection of being number 3 of 4 in a big family.  I am a self-proclaimed overlooked middle child.  My big sister did things first (make up, puberty) and even my older brother had the honor of being the oldest boy (sports, first to get a CD player).  My youngest brother is the baaaaaaaaaby.  He was the last one to go to kindergarten and the last one to graduate high school.  Let's record him sleeping so we don't forget what a sleeping baby/child looks like.  Oh wait!  What's that, you say?  Now that you mention it, there was another daughter in the Adams family-the third child!

So, maybe I'm exaggerating.  I wasn't neglected.  I'm sure I had lots of attention....now where are those pictures to prove it??? :)

Seriously.  It's really just more fun watching my mom defend herself when I pull the "middle child" card.  I think I turned out quite all right!

Onto the purpose of the blog.  Jace.  Terrible twos.  Little brother.  Big brother.  He has a need to make a name for himself and I completely understand.  He is a very tough and aggressive little boy who is a natural "Daddy's boy."  We joke that Skylar was everybody's baby.  He loved attention from anywhere he could find it.  Caiden was a bona fide "Mama's boy" and technically still is.  Ty is a "Mama's boy" but is more open to Daddy than Caiden was.  Jace is 100% about Daddy.  One of his favorite things to tell me is, "Let Daddy do it!"  Of course, I always loved that for diaper changing time.

Jace is tough.  As with Skylar, he often leaves me scratching my head for methods to work with him.  This Johnson Mama is always having to think one step ahead of these testosterone filled ducklings.  Two weeks ago, Jace's daycare called me at school to tell me he was sitting in the office because he was being so aggressive and kept hitting other children.  (He tells me he was "fighting Chancey.")  I walked over (thankfully, daycare is right across the street from my school) and gave him a very stern talk and threatened to bring over the "spank spoon" if we have another problem.

Fast forward to today.  Not even an hour ago to be exact.  Another daycare phone call.  "Mrs. Johnson, I have Jace in the office here and he hit a child in the face with a dinosaur."  (Breathe, Dawn, breathe.)  UnFortunately for Jace, I was in between classes and could immediately walk over with the "spank spoon" for correction.  The child's cheek right under his eye was quite swollen and very red.  I felt sorry for the little boy but he kept saying, "I okay."  My Jacey can be so sweet sometimes but when he is mean, he is mean with a vengeance.

What is it "they" say?  Go hard or go home.  And that's what Jace does.  Now to find a happy medium...

Gooooooooool!

The official opening ceremonies of the Y's soccer season were on Saturday morning.  Both of my older boys have played before but Skylar had taken 2 seasons off.  I take credit in talking them both into playing soccer this season and am very glad I did.

If you know my Skylar, you know that he's a perfectionist (wonder where he got that from) and very competitive (a natural first-born).  EVERY time he has played, he has had the misfortune honor of having Chris as his coach.  As destiny would have it they are two peas in a pod.  Twins separated by 22 years.

We were glad that he would have a different coach this season.  Not really worried about Caiden because he really doesn't have a problem with paying attention and following instructions.

Fast forward to first games of spring 2011 soccer season.  Caiden played first.  He has a really good team and the coach is very dedicated and does a great job with them. 

Caiden was a little "off" his game.  He became tired quickly and wasn't very aggressive.  Do I sound like a heartless mother?  Really, I want my children to perform to their best potential.  That's all.  His team won which is a wonderful way to start off the season.

When Skylar plays, I become very nervous.  He is ALWAYS the smallest one on the team and is the child that is easily distracted by an ant.  When he ran onto the field Saturday, he shocked the coach and all the other parents.  He was probably the most aggressive one out there and had a few "almost" goals.  You can imagine my excitement/relief/jumping up and down when he finally scored a goal.  

I felt like I was watching a futbol game in Spanish where the announcers get sooooooooo into it!


GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!

I am soooooooooooo proud of my babies!

Bumps, and bruises, and blood. Oh my!

What a painfully, eventful, yet unproductive weekend!  Thank God for a day off on Friday, but the guilt of waisting it by doing nothing sometimes makes a day off not as enjoyable.  Then, the time change.  My children awoke at 6:15 on Friday and Saturday anyway.  I do welcome the time change but I tend to stumble forward for the first week of the change.

My 2 year old has become quite the bully adventuresome little boy.  On Thursday, I did my usual Mom's taxi run to the daycare first then LP.  As I went to my 1 year old's room to pick him up, he was in time out because he kept climbing the back of a chair.  Amused, I went on to Jace's room.  Lo and behold, he's also in time out.  He was in trouble quite a bit last week for being made of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails.  When I asked him why he was not sweet, he told me that he "kick blocks hard" and "fighting Chancey."

Fast forward to Saturday morning while big brothers and friend played the Wii...

That lovely goose egg is a result of a long plastic sword meeting a forehead.

Then later that day, baby Ty was knocked down our steps outside the back door to look like he had a bad lip injection.

My poor babies.  The odd children are beating up the even children. I'm really crossing my fingers to avoid future E.R. visits.

Anybody know any good deals on a padded house with foam toys for sale?

Where I stand

I decided to "Dear Diary" blog inspired by a recent email conversation with a friend and my Pastor's sermon from Sunday.

Let's face it.  Living in the Bible belt is trying downright annoying sometimes.  As a child, it's easy to see the Bible as a bunch of contradictions.  "God is love" but "Depart from me, I never knew you."  As an adult I can see where it more clearly makes sense. 

Thanks to my Baptist elementary upbringing, the first Bible verse I learned (yes-a verse for every letter in the alphabet) was Romans 3:23 "All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God."  I didn't truly grasp this concept until later in life, but it means that even Mother Theresa sinned. *gasp*

This verse was also used this Sunday by Pastor Craig in his sermon about love.  The Greek word for sin is ¢amartia  or hamartia meaning to miss the mark in your relationship with God. 

Not to get too boring (even though it utterly fascinates me), we're all familiar with the term "brotherly love" and even learned in elementary school that Philadelphia is the city of brotherly love.  (Philia-Greek word)  In Spanish there are two ways to say "I love you" depending your relationship with that person.  Fast forward to boring English.....love, sin, etc.  We often make our own definitions as they fit into our lives but the point is that sin is whatever puts a strain in our relationship with God.  We, as imperfect human beings, tend to teeter on the edge of wanting to be accepted in the world but also wanting to be like our Creator, of whose image we were created.

I know that I have not been given authority to judge either but shame on these Christians who make Christianity to be a bunch of laws and regulations.  God is not making a list and checking it twice.  I do believe in eternal consequences and even though I try my best to live my life the way it should, I will have times where I struggle with unforgiveness.  I will get angry and do or say things I regret.  Big deal.  The last time I checked I am still human.

I know how frustrating it has to be for God because as a parent I am constantly having to scold my children for the same "stupid" mistakes they make over and over. That's where God has patience for us because we are His children. 

The bottom line is that I have learned to not let myself be overcome with guilt.  Nor will I judge people for their lifestyle choices-that's God's job.  Let's face it:  drinking, smoking, cursing, etc. might not be what separates people from God.  Sin does.  Here in the Bible belt, there is so much controversy about what sends one to hell.  I will not tell people how to live their lives as I expect them not to tell me how to live mine.  I choose not to drink because of how my past experiences with alcohol inhibited--what I feel--was my true character.  Smoking won't send one to hell but it's not a healthy habit I choose to do.  I can't use inappropriate words anymore because I'm too afraid one will slip up in the classroom.  (Imagine me in the headlines!)  I binge eat sometimes and am a glutton but I don't think that will eternally separate me from my Maker.

These are my feelings.  I am not perfect human.  I sin.  I fall down.  Just like any relationship in my life I have to work at the most important one I have-with God.

My, how the weekend flies...If you haven't heard me say it before I'll say it again: Go see the Beauty and Beast at Twin Oaks in Lee County.  Wonderful performance. 

 

After a little stomach bug had me lazy all weekend, it ended with a nice trip to Steak n' Shake.  I just had to share a pic of my growing baby...



The birds and the bees

After spending a lot of time reading my MySpace blog (dated back to 2005!), I wanted to share a good laugh.  This was written when I was pregnant with Jace on July 29, 2008.

*****DISCLAIMER*****:  The following is a retelling of a pretty raw conversation with my 4- and 6-year old.  The same children that I had to explain that I was planning to breast feed.  I am open with my children and things are what they are.  Needless to say, when I explained to them the process they laughed and said, "That's funny!  The baby will drink milk from your boobies!"

Preface:

I took my children to the doctor's appointment with me last week.  Nothing important and not even a "check" but they were able to hear the baby's heartbeat, etc.  By the time we made it to the exam room they were quite inquisitive on what everything does.  They swiveled the light and turned it on and pulled out the stirrups...just being typical boys.  Skylar asked me, "Ooh--can I open up this closet?"  I told him, "Sure," thinking there's a simple explanation for that...you put your clothes in there.  Wasn't that easy.  There was a lovely poster of the female reproduction system hanging in there...



At this point, Skylar starts to laugh and point and says, "Look, Caiden! It's a wee-wee!....Hey!  That's where the baby comes out!"

At which point I was a little shocked that he figured it out himself and I could only agree with him.

Fast forward 6 days later on the way to church:

We're just enjoying the radio on the way to church when Skylar asked oh-so-innocently, "Mama, how is the baby going to come out?"  I swallow and reply with, "Weeeeeellll, he's going to go down." Caiden asks, "Out of your foot?" And before I could reply, Skylar retorts, "No, out of her tee-tee."  Caiden's response?  "But, girls don't have tee-tees."  Mama jumps in to remind Caiden that yes, girls do have tee-tees but they are inside and boys' stick outside.  Caiden replies, "Well are you just going to squirt the baby out then?"  *sigh* If only it were that easy.

As I'm retelling this story to Chris over dinner, Caiden comes up with the idea to name the baby "Squirty."  Of course, Chris being ever-so-blunt tells him that technically he should have been named Squirty because he came out that way too.  But Caiden pipes in, "That's what Grandaddy used to call me."  I looked at him and thought for a second and remembered that yes!  Daddy did call him "Squirt" sometimes.  It's amazing that after a year, my four year old still recalls sweet memories of my dad that will live on in our hearts!!!

Blast from the past

Upon deciding my next blog-worthy topic, I decided to catch this current blog up-to-date with my former MySpace blogs.  Yes, I did just say MySpace.  That means I'm giving away my age.  Without further ado (no kids, it's not the French "adieu") I present my weirdness to the one person who reads this:  (Thanks Amber-Man!)


January 17, 2009

My name is Dawn and I'm obsessed with numbers.

("Hi, Dawn.")

The older I become the more I realize how much numbers affect my life.  Looking back to my childhood I see clear patterns leading up to my number-obsessed adulthood.  And yes, my siblings can attest to my childhood weirdness.  I always counted out syllables on my hands.  Just certain phrases or short sentences when people would talk.  If each said phrase or sentence did not end with a multiple of 5 I would mentally add  "filler" words and restate the phrase until it was a multiple of 5.  The only reason for the 5 was because of the fingers on my hand.  It's the only odd number I like.  (May is my birth month.)

I've realized my number obsession over the past few years especially concerning my children's names, family size, etc.  Prime example, Skylar's name has 6 letters and 2 syllables...middle name Lathan is the same.  Caiden's name was found in a baby name book but as Caden.  For some reason I unconsciously felt the name was missing a letter so I added an "i." Not a "y" because we felt that was too feminine.  Needless to say he has 6 letters and 2 syllables.  He shares Chris' middle name, Lane, which has 4 letters and only 1 syllable.  Deciding on Jace's name was difficult because I had already discovered my pattern and felt the need to break the mold a little.  Needless to say he is my only child with 4 letters in the first name.  Middle name Landon is 6.

I always have a need to even things out.

Fast forward 2ish years and here I am posting a blog about numbers.  Daddy died on 711.  Backwards that's 117-today, my wedding anniversary.  So, what does that mean?  No clue.  I'm on a journey to discover why 2 very important days in my life share the same exact numbers--just mirrorred.  Of all the 365 days in a calendar year and these same numbers.  Upon a little research, in 2007 when daddy died my anniversary and his death both occurred on Wednesdays--25 weeks or 175 days apart.  (Just to throw this out, I was born on a Wednesday.)  I don't believe in coincidence.  Destiny is inevitable but trying to find that pattern is making me go crazy!  Now, with all of the 7s I have almost developed a complete phobia of 7s.  It's an odd number anyway so it's never been a fave.

For what it's worth after completing our 7th year of marriage today on 117, Happy Anniversary, Chris!

BTW, Johnson is 7 letters.

And so it begins...

I created this blogspot in 2007. It might have even been for a class assignment in my college days.  That was also when I walked for 12 miles in snow to get to class. 

On to the main point.  I read blogs of friends and friends of friends and even complete strangers.  I can be critical of how boring they are or how funny they are but never attempted it for myself.  That is, until today.

Surely the whole world wide web eagerly awaits to know my thoughts on a pressing topic.  Surely they will wake up refreshing my blog posts to hear about the antics of my children.  Of course, I will have as many followers as Jesus if only I join. 

The truth is that I find my life very entertaining and never dull.  I could probably write a novel of just my experiences in the last week.  To blog my life is a whole other story.  Funny stories-yes.  Interesting daily experiences?  Yes.  Cute kids?  Yes.  Happy life?  Yes.  Creatively describing life?  Debatable.  Time?  No.

Nonetheless, here's to an attempt at blogging!