i've been tagged!

Oh, I just love these little "tagging" games! I did one a a while back, but this one's a little different. My blogging friend, Kristi, who I really hope to meet IRL (in real life) some day, has asked that I list 6 random things about myself, so here goes...

1. I really hope to run a marathon (or at least a half marathon!) by the time I'm 30 years old. I've been in "training mode" since I was engaged. Between planning a wedding, going to school full time and working full time, I wasn't able to run the marathon I had signed up for at age 21. Since then, I've been busy having child after child, but now that I'm finished with that, I hope to start training in the near future.
2. My sister and I auditioned for the Amazing Race a couple years ago. We didn't make it past the first round. I did horrible in front of the camera. That's sooooo not my thing. They gave us 60 seconds to tell them why we felt we should be the next Amazing Race contestants, and even with having a rehearsed "script," I totally biffed it. Sorry, Jen.
   
3. I am spearheading a MOPS group at my church, starting this fall. I go to a smaller church and they've never had a MOPS, nor do they really have a women's ministry established. I'm very excited, though I'm nervous and a little intimidated, but I know God with pull me through.
4. My cousin and I were driving back to our college dorm one night and we happened to be following a Schwan's truck down the highway. We both noticed a box, or something, fly out of the truck. Being the ice cream addicts and curious little buggers we were, we stopped the car, did a u-turn, and went back to where we thought the box landed. Sure enough, sitting in the ditch, we found a unopened box of Mint Drumsticks. Yummy! Our favorite! By all accounts, they seemed perfectly fine to eat. So, we did. Right then and there. I'm assuming them falling out of the truck was God's way of rewarding us for something good we did that day! Or were they thrown from the truck? We never got sick, so I guess we'll never know.
   
5. I was a wrestling manager for 4 years in high school. I loved wrestling. Still do, actually.
6. Why am I having a hard time coming up with the 6th thing?!?! My first car was a two-door, maroon Dodge Airies. It had purple tinted windows and required an oil refill almost every day. It was awesome.
   

That's it for now...until my next "tagging" game! Now I tag my friends Erica & Nealy!

bunches of brocoli

I thought I'd give it a whirl. Online grocery shopping, that is. I'd been dragging my feet for the longest time, convincing myself it wasn't worth the effort. Boy, was I wrong! I had myself very deceived. It was worth every single ounce of energy it took to sit in front of my laptop, snuggled in my blanket, adding item by item into my online grocery cart.

It gave me the option to either have my groceries delivered to my own front door, or I could choose to drive-through at the grocery store and have them load my already bagged items into my van. Either option sounded heavenly, but considering I'd be in the area running errands, I opted for picking them up myself. I drove through, gave them my reference number, and within seconds I was pulling out of the parking lot with a smile on my face and a van full of groceries. What a success! It was just as simple as everyone had told me it was! Cheers for simplicity!

As I was unpacking my bags and putting my groceries away, I came across three rather large, perfect, organic heads of broccoli, all bound together by a rubber band. Wow, I thought to myself, even bigger and better than I imagined!

Moments later, while unpacking another bag, I stumbled across another bunch of broccoli, same as before. Wait a second, I thought I only ordered 1 bunch... I showed the two bags of broccoli to my husband and we both agreed we'll never finish it before it goes to waste...But wait (as I opened the next bag)...what's this?!?

TWO MORE BUNDLES OF 3 LARGE BROCCOLI HEADS! You have got to be kidding me!!!

For those of you not good at math, including myself, let's count the (large) broccoli heads together: 1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10...11...12!

Ordering 12 heads of broccoli was my fault, I will admit to that. But it was an honest mistake! I thought I was ordering 4 heads of broccoli, not 4 bunches, with each bunch including 3 (have I mentioned large?) heads of broccoli. I guess something like that was bound (no pun intended) to happen when you grocery shop online for the first time. But goodness, what do you do with 12 heads of broccoli?

Well, I think I had a couple solutions:

1. Give my neighbor, Jess, 4 heads, leaving me with 8.

2. Pawn a few heads off on your kids as snacks

Thank goodness they like broccoli!

fast and the furious

While I'm on a role with blogging about my husbands interests and hobbies, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to mention his favorite hobby of all time: Motorcycles. Specifically, Ducatis. At a very young age, he developed an interest in dirt bikes, motorcycles and cars. Over the years, this interest for all things fast has grown into a mad passion.

This passion actually influenced us in the naming our daughter, Britten. Britten was the last name of a racer from New Zealand, who before the age of 30, designed an elite race bike, in which he actually named Britten. Sadly, he passed away from cancer at age 35, but before his death, accomplished more than most do in a lifetime. My husband admired him for that and I think felt they shared a common bond in their love for race bikes. He took a liking to his last name, worked heavily on persuading me to like it, and now we have our daughter, Britten. I hope she appreciates being named after her Daddy's passion - a motorcycle. :)

Over the course of three years, my husband has slowly (Slowly, because having three little girls, a job that requires him to travel and a wife that appreciates "quality time," doesn't allow for much free time to tinker!) rebuilt his Ducati in his basement workshop, the same workshop that now doubles as his "photo studio." Though it's still a work in progress, his bike is finally ready for the road.

More than anything else, my husband loves to ride the race track with his motorcycle. He says he's born to race. It's in his blood. Given the chance to lead another life, my husband would undoubtedly choose to do one thing: race professionally. Fortunately, he chose a different path for his real life. This path did not include becoming a professional motorcycle racer. This path included marrying me. That, of course, led to him becoming a father to these little ladies...

Becoming a parent changed his perspective on taking certain risks and he chose a much, much safer career path.

He does, however, still enjoy racing his motorcycle, but limits his "racing" to scheduled track days at a local race track. Today, in fact, was one of the few track days he has scheduled throughout the season and mother nature decided to cooperate for him. His day began at 8:00am, but after church, I loaded the girls in the van and drove them straight to the track to support their Daddy in action.

There's my stud-muffin, all decked out in leathers. He sorta resembles a power ranger. But a cute power ranger.

There we are, his LADIES, there to support and cheer him on! The girls have SO much fun doing this! They love watching their Daddy zip around the track, leaning so hard into curves that his knee drags on the asphalt. I'm not sure I share in their excitement, but I grin and bear it, knowing full well it could be worse.

testing, testing

In recent months, my husband has taken up a hobby in photography. He's a creative guy with talent I envy (sometimes), so photography is right down his alley and has been a fantastic outlet for him.

He spent the afternoon cleaning and organizing his workshop today, all with the purpose of using his workshop as a "photo studio," of sorts. He had fun testing it out by taking some random, goofy pictures of the girls. Aside from the dirty faces and crazy hair (C'mon! Cut the Mommy some slack! I wasn't anticipating a photo shoot today! ), I thought they turned out really cute.

where's waldo chloe?

Any guesses?

The older girls were having fun piling all of our baby toys on top of Chloe in the Exersaucer, leaving only big, blue eyes and a mop of black hair as our clue to find her. Sorry, no red striped shirt.

before and after

I just LOVE before and after pictures. Whether it's a weight loss success story or a home renovation project, there's something inspirational and exciting about seeing someone or something transform. That's why, when my friend passed along this picture from earlier this year, I couldn't resist blogging about it:

We went from this...

Traci (6 months pregnant), Erica (7 months pregnant) & Me (8 months pregnant)

To this...

Titus (Traci's son), Micah (Erica's son) & Chloe (all mine)

What's more miraculous than that transformation?!

expressions of love

One of the most fulfilling things about being a wife and a mother is knowing that I'm loved. Despite my faults and imperfections, I am confident in knowing that my husband and children love me. Granted, there are days, weeks even, where I feel under-appreciated and taken for granted by my family. I know this happens unintentionally, and I'm just as guilty anyone, but I think mothers and wives tend to take the brunt of it. Life just happens, sort of takes control, and you feel like you're forgotten in the middle of all the chaos.

But then, out of nowhere, chubby little arms hug your legs. You look down to meet your child's face and see that cheesy little grin smiling at you. This hug lasts only a moment, but it's in that fleeting moment that you remember you're loved.

I love those moments. I love these moments:

My little Chloe, staring at me with her bright blue eyes, gives me the sweetest little smiles. It's in her gazes and her smiles....That's how I know she loves me. Baby love is so innocent and so real. It has yet to be tarnished by life's imperfections.

Lying next to Britten, having snuggle time before bed, she reaches up to my face and starts tickling my cheeks: "I like you, Mommy. I like you soooooo much!"

Ella walks up to me, out of nowhere, and says: "You're so beautiful, Mommy." I ask, do you know what "beautiful" means, Ella? She says, "It means, I love you." What a perfect interpretation of beauty.

My husband, a man of few words. I've learned recently that actions DO speak louder than words, at least in his case. He has this thing about hitting my...clearing throat...bottom. He does it all. the. time. and it's the most irritating thing in the world. He'll hit me with his hand, he'll snap me with towels, he'll clock me with a brush. He's even taught my girls to do it, and now I'm getting it from everyone!

A few weeks back, I had had it! It was after about the 10th swat when I responded by throwing something back at him (not my proudest moment, I'll admit).

"Do you realize how much I HATE it when you do that?!?!"

"Yes, I do." He responds, with a smirk on his face.

"Then, WHY?! WHY do you keep doing it, when you know I HATE it?!"

"It's my way of showing you I love you." He simply responds. And he meant it. That made me smile, despite the inner rage I was feeling at the moment. It really IS his way. Bummer. Now I have no choice but to let it happen. The things you do for love. The sacrifices are endless. ;)

So amongst our crazy lives, our busy days and hectic schedules, it is in these small, but meaningful moments, that I know I'm loved. I am not forgotten.