Our little kitchen adventure making slime yesterday turned out to be a huge hit. I have quite a few photos of the process and had planned to post them today. Then I realized I had an Ann Taylor coupon that was going to expire today and I had to head to the mall. The coupon plus the gift card in my wallet called to me. The good news is a found a really cute sweater. The bad news is I had to pass up two blouses I liked because I decided they wouldn’t go well with spit up. When did I become the woman who buys clothes based on spit up? Anyway, I’m on my way out the door for another little family adventure, so I will resume my blogging on the weekend. I hope everyone has a happy Friday!  

I just booked a family photo session and I’m already nervous. It has been two years since our last family photo. There are several reasons for this. The first is that I hate my hair. I’ve always hated my hair. I think it all started when I was three years old and used the kitchen shears to cut my bangs to the scalp. Things haven’t improved much since then.

The other reason family photo shoots send fear down my spine is that I do a horrible job of coordinating outfits. I see all of those other cute family pics where everyone is wearing a white shirt and blue jeans or coordinating sweaters and I suddenly feel inept. I think a big part of the problem is that I rarely allow enough time for finding new clothes for a photo, so I usually end up trying to coordinate the best I can from our existing wardrobes. And let me tell you, it is slim pickings around here.

So, this year we have plenty of time for me to perfect the family photo ensemble. But, I need your help. Do you coordinate the whole clan for photos? Where do you shop? What do you look for? Tell me, tell me, how do you do it? I know there must be some trick and I need in on the secret.

We’re hoping to do an outdoor shoot in early December, so I need something warm for everyone and possibly even hats for the kids. Send me your advice!

Last weekend we went to the air show at the Naval Air Station in Oceana. The show was amazing on its own, but it was special for me because my brother flew in it. Yeah!

I had to stop myself from elbowing the people next to me and telling them my brother was the pilot of the plane pulling past us. Really. I did. We didn’t realize he’d be landing so soon, so Bryan had taken Evan to the restroom and my sister-in-law was getting something to eat. I was watching by myself and really wanted to share my excitement with the strangers next to me. Instead I took 243 pictures. I’ll just show you one. 

I was proud of my big brother, but I was also proud of all those who serve. I’m so grateful people volunteer to do the jobs we ask them to do. What is even more amazing is that so many of them make the commitment to serve our country when they are just eighteen years old. Eighteen. Right now teenagers are enlisting in the Army, studying at the Naval Academy and sleeping on foreign soil for us. They do it without thanks. They do it for the love of country. They do it so I can tuck my son and daughter in bed at night knowing they will grow up in a country that is free.

We ask so much of our military. We ask moms and dads to spend months away from their families. We ask them to miss first birthdays, first steps and even births. We ask them to go where they are told when they are told. We can’t possibly ever pay them enough for all of the sacrifices they make. But we can tell them thank you. We can teach our kids to be grateful for the job they are doing and we can feel proud that so many people sign up to protect the values that are important to us. So, to all those who serve, thank you!

And, if you’d like a little Monday morning entertainment via You Tube, here are a couple clips of my brother at the airshow. He is a part of the Fighting Omars squadron that plays the adversary.  He is in one of the blue camo jets. He is taking off at the end of this clip. If you’re at work, you might want to turn the volume down now. Jet noise can be loud, but it is an awesome sound. 

His flight is toward the end of this clip. 

For the life of me I can’t figure out why my kiddos fight sleep. I want to grab them by the shoulders, shake them and tell them that there will come a day when they won’t be able to sleep. There will be late-night cram sessions, finals, deadlines and, maybe someday, children that will keep them from the glorious thing we call sleep. 

I would like to shout in their ears, “Enjoy it now, while you can, before it is too late! Nap, please! Sleep in. Go to bed early for one day you won’t be able to!” But I don’t.

Instead I rock. I sing. I read. I tickle backs and stroke hair. I cuddle. I replace pacifiers. I put Evan’s Taggie Bear in the freezer, because he thinks he’ll sleep better if his bear is cold. I pile the blankets on in just the right order and later, when Tag has gotten lost in the mound of blankets, I dutifully retrieve him and place him back in my little guy’s arms.

I read sleep books, try their tactics and then get to the part that says, “Some children are naturally larks.” That means I start my day in the 6:00 hour, which is an improvement from a year ago when it was in the 5:00 hour.

But in those wee morning hours when the house is dark and the neighborhood is quiet, I remind myself that this too shall pass. There will come a day when my little ones aren’t so little. Before I know it I’ll be nudging teenagers, flipping on bedroom lights and telling them it is time to wake up. One day, the house will be empty and I’ll think back to the late-night cries for mommy and miss having my kids at home.  So tonight when I am forced to climb out of my nice warm bed, I’ll try to enjoy the cuddles I’ll be giving and savor the moment. Pretty soon, I’ll be able to look back at this time in my life and laugh. I’m sure I’ll also wonder how I was able to get by on so little sleep.