Today's quick quip . . .

In line with the boys at Panera for lunch, and the gentleman behind the register asks me if all three boys are mine. I kindly smiled, knowing more questions were to come, "Yep, all three!" He then saw my bulging belly (thank God I look more pregnant than fat now) and said, "And number four is on the way?!" "Yes, sir," I answered again. He continued with a raised eyebrow: "Is that one going to be the last of the bunch?" I took a deep breath and smiled ever so sweetly (again) . . .

"Only God knows for sure, but I'm not planning on stopping until I get an ugly one!"

You should have seen his face . . .    :):):):)::A:s;dlkfasdf

Lunchtime Q&A With Strangers

Saturday at lunch I was approached by no fewer than three people at different times, to inquire if the boys were triplets. 

I smiled and honestly answered "No," and then turned my attention back to the boys who were conversing with me and trying to eat. 

To one inquisitive gal who pressed the issue ("Well, they sure do look alike . . ."), Blake's response was perfect--"No, we're brothers!" 

And to the other gal, who returned to her seat to chat with her lunch partner and spoke just loud enough for me to hear ("Do you think she doesn't know they're triplets? I mean, really--look at them!"), 

Yes, I'm pretty certain they're not triplets. Have a great day!

One More to Come

Anticipating another February birthday . . .

Superhero Heart Run 2015

Superhero: (n) Type of hero that possesses extraordinary superhuman powers, is remarkably brave, has great courage or strength of character.

The first of a new annual Elstun family tradition, celebrating our sweet and fiery Ethan and raising awareness of CHD. Go Team E^5!

Say Hey

However long our feet have walked on this world
We’ve all lived long enough to know
That sometimes life will go our way
And other times it won’t
But still I’ve got this joy inside of me
With each new dawn I do believe to

Say hey, it’s a good day
Even if things aren’t going my way
Jesus is Lord and I am saved
So, say hey, it’s a good day

Happy Easter!

Well . . . wow.  So today was . . . today was a day!  And praise Jesus for that!  And I'm still standing.  (And not only that, but have enough energy to write about it--a bonus!)

The day started with Raleigh stirring beside me--a VERY rare occurrence since we don't share any days off together.  I smiled sweetly at hearing the rumble of his early morning snores reverberating off the pillow, and thought to myself, "It's going to be a great day."  And then, our day began . . .

After drifting back off to sleep with the thought I might be able to catch just a few more moments of precious slumber, my trio began singing from their cribs.  Time to get up!

Despite the early start, breakfast was hurried and no one wanted to eat.  Well, Raleigh and I did, but doing so was encumbered by the fact that one child kept throwing food on the floor (we won't name that child--ahem, Ethan) while the other two kept fighting over who got to hold the white truck that had previously been sitting in the middle of the living room, unwanted by anyone.

While the kids were locked into their high chairs, I ran upstairs to curl my hair and slip into my dress.  I pulled the purple and orange flowery one from my closet (a feel-good choice in that I wore it for our rehearsal dinner, and I always feel like a lady in it) and as I flipped it over to slide it over my head, saw that one of the pleats in the back was completely ripped, with frayed fabric outlining a very big--and un-mendable hole.  Well, so much for that!  I went for plan B and grabbed an equally cute (but less "Eastery") black and white dress from my closet and threw it on.  "At least I have another dress clean and ironed, I thought.  This is going to be a good day!"

After double changes on two of the three (since the youngest filled their diapers again immediately after getting fresh drawers on), a bolt towards the car and a crying fit of who gets the coveted middle car seat (I think they like to see out the front?) we made our way to church.  I looked in the back seat at each of our boys, dressed so handsomely in their three piece suits and homemade Easter crowns (picture crayon scribbles and upside-down stickers on a band of poorly-cut construction paper) and said, "I love you, boys."  And each one of them (almost in unison!) said, "I love you, too."  And I thought, "This is going to be a good day!"

And guess what?  Despite the overwhelming number of people moving in and out of the church doors and driving around in the crowded parking lot, we managed to find a wide space in which to park, not too far from the front, next to a sidewalk where everyone could walk in safely!  "This is going to be a great day!"

Well, regardless of the safety zone the sidewalk provided, no one wanted to walk and each went limp at any suggestion of it.  So we threw on our cowboy badges and tried herd the kids like cats into mass.  Seeing we were outnumbered (aren't we always?) and were not likely to win without a Ghandian sit-in on the church sidewalk, we acknowledged defeat and carried all three of them from the parking lot inside.

Thankfully my parents kept up with their lovely practice of holding seats for us, since it takes us so much longer to get in to church than most.  The boys' leg span are not that great just yet and those entry way stairs and long ways down the aisle to our pews take some time.  :)  And so we sat--in an entire pew saved for us and my brother and his family--and sat down EARLY (another win!) for Easter service.  "This is going to be a great day!"

Well, my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew ended up not making it (SUPER disappointing), and the buzz of the crowded church added to the chaos.  Well, that, and the fact that my kids were FIESTY--with Raleigh having to take them out "for walks" on at least 3 separate occasions.  And that was in between them falling limp in our arms, wanting me to hold all three at once ("No, that's MYYYYYYYYYY mommy!") and usual cries/wiggles/tantrums/protests of toddlers trying to make it through mass.  There was a point when Blake was sitting happily near my dad, Ethan was snuggled into Raleigh's chest, and Carson was singing along the hymns with me (and dutifully listening to my explanation of why Jesus was no longer "hiding" behind the blanket--in our church, the statue of the Resurrected Christ is covered during Lent until Easter Sunday), and I thought, "Somehow, this IS working.  Today is going to be a great day!"

I don't remember much of the homily (thank goodness I had gone over the day's readings last night and so had reflected on them a little bit prior to today's service) and was grateful to make it through mass without completely (or so I hope) turning off our church neighbors as to ever coming back to mass again.  (I think the boys were so adorable in their suits and charmed them all with handshakes and toothy smiles when it was time to share peace, they had at some level forgotten how distracting they were during the other 49 minutes of mass.)

We got to my folks safely after church (and a quick grocery run) and the boys had fun playing in the sun while Omi and Papa finished up making lunch.  They kicked a soccer ball in the grass, climbed a tree, "fixed" rocks with my dad's garden hose, drew lines in the dirt with sticks, and disassembled my mom's garden accessories.  In other words, they got to be boys.  And I enjoyed every minute watching them.  "This is going to be a great day!"

We enjoyed lunch with my parents and cousins, and sister-in-law and nephew (they made it to lunch!).  SO good!  Unfortunately, Ethan refused to eat anything (and I do mean ANYTHING) and holding him prevented me from getting much from the plate to my mouth.  He did perk up quickly once he saw his Easter basket, however, and the baggie of Cadbury mini eggs his Omi so selflessly sacrificed for her grandsons.  Of course mommy was mean and said he could only eat one, which again let to a long song of tears and whining.  Thankfully, he's easily distracted, and so ended the tears after showing him the bouncy ball (and stickers!) he also had in his basket.  Crisis averted.

With me tickling their feet and shoving goldfish in their hands to keep them busy, the boys managed to stay awake the entire ride home (score for us to ensure a full nap for all three boys--at the same time!).  They protested to go upstairs (and fought for a few minutes before drifting off to sleep) but eventually gave in.  Raleigh and I had some time alone!  Together!  (That hardly ever happens!)  So what did we do?  We worked on our bathroom!

Raleigh made great progress and finished installing the plumbing on our sinks (a task we've wanted to do for WEEKS) and we high-fived as the water turned on successfully with a half rotation of the knobs.  Of course, only one side of each sink was in the right direction, with the left knob in the "on" position actually letting water flow freely--while the other side (right knob) actually letting water out while in the "off" position.  We laughed.  At least we're closer than we were before!  And progress is progress--"It's going to be a great day!"

Of course we realized Carson was awake the entire time--he had a poopy diaper (grrrrrr, the timing!)--and so was really happy once his brother woke up too.  The happy chatter was a welcome end to our time in remodel mode and we got the kids up from their naps.

We did enjoy a good dinner together at a favorite restaurant we all love, and Raleigh and I relished in the time we were spending as a family, without the rush of day care drop-off and pick-up or a hurried dinner between work and bathtime/bed.  Of course, we just had to laugh when after we left the restaurant (where Blake had been changed) and were taking a long and scenic walk back to the car, that Ethan and Carson divulged they too had full, poopy (and I do mean FULL) diapers.  We changed Carson but realized his clean diaper was the last in the bag (why do my kids have to poop so much?!) and that Ethan might have to sit in the car on the way home in messy pants.  Knowing that we couldn't handle the smell for the ride home (and felt doubly bad when Ethan jumped up on the bench to be changed, asking for a clean diaper), we decided to hijack the cleanish diaper from Blake and put it on Ethan instead.   Ethan seemed pleased and Blake promised he'd keep dry pants (I think he secretly was excited to go commando), and we made it home.  No more poopy diapers from any of them, and Blake stayed dry!  He even told me he had to go potty when we got home and made it to the toilet before wetting!  Hooray!  "This is going to be a good day!"

Now, I have three sleeping little boys upstairs and a big boy on the couch (with whom I get to snuggle in just a bit).  I am so blessed.  And speaking of blessings, today is Easter--our Lord is Risen!  Today IS a good day!

Circumstance and situations change
You know life can turn on a dime
But there’s a constant hope and peace
That I have come to find
And it’s all because of who God is
And that He is alive and I am His, so

Say hey, it’s a good day
Even if things aren’t going my way
Jesus is Lord and I am saved
So, say hey, it’s a good day

~"Say Hey" lyrics by FFH

Warning Lights

It was the second time in two months that I'd been pulled over for a driving infraction, and although my record prior to these instances was nearly unremarkable, the hit stung hard.

After balling my eyes out in the car (my go-to method for stress relief), I texted Raleigh to tell him the news. I knew I couldn't yet talk about it, but wanted him to know.

He called shortly after I got to work, anxious to soothe the frazzled spirit of his frustrated and embarrassed wife.  "It will be ok," he tried to convince me.  "Really.  It's just paperwork."

"I know, I know," I said flatly, still holding back tears.  He could hear it in my voice.  My pride was hurt and the checks on my mental checklist of how-this-mistake-is-going-to-cost-us was ticking off in my head.

In one quick sentence Raleigh cut to my core and reminded me why the morning's actions hurt so bad: "Sweetie, give yourself some grace.  It's ok to fail."

Ouch.  There it was.

I've always done well at succeeding--numerous awards during my school years, Valedictorian of my high school class, world travel as a curious and courageous college student, different accolades and promotions at work, home ownership at the young age of 21, leadership positions in various organizations and honors for volunteer work I've done.  I've been a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, and anything I put my name to usually reflects those intentions. Yet I've also learned over the years one of the biggest motivators for me to do so well in so many areas of my life was/is a fairly big fear of failure.  I didn't want to be wrong or not good enough, and so I did everything I could in my power to be right and/or "good enough" to be publicly praised and valued.  It's silly, I know (no one is perfect and I'm loved anyways!) and yet it's something I work towards remembering each and every day.  And as my partner, Raleigh knows this about me and lovingly draws my attention to this fact whenever I tend to forget.

Still, I found Raleigh's continued suggestion rather annoying:: "Remember, we want the boys to learn that experiencing failure is ok." (I know he doesn't mean to dig in an already sore wound, but really?!)

Sigh.

He's right.  And the reminder is one I desperately needed to hear.  I would have liked the trigger to be something a little less painful (no police officers involved, please), however it is what it is and I screwed up. That doesn't mean I have to beat myself up or crawl into a hole in shame (although I certainly felt like that was a reasonable option this morning), or that I am any less of a person, wife, mother, friend, daughter, employee, etc. because of my mistakes.  And I am loved regardless.

So . . . it's time for one of those shifts in perspective:

Despite our hardships (and some of them have been HARD), Raleigh and I have maintained a strong and faithful marriage. I take pride in our choice to raise our boys as we are (they really are good kids) and how we're managing to "keep it together" despite the constant chaos and worldly stressors we regularly find loading our plate.  On that same note, I can take pride in knowing what I am doing "right" even if I am quite unsure what I am doing half of the time and am screwing up the other half of the time. I am proud of our boys and use feedback we get from friends, family, and strangers alike that we're doing an ok job, and take the boys' efforts to offer forgiveness, help around the house, and their general happy and energetic demeanor as evidence that they're doing well and thriving under our care.  My house is not the cleanest (by any means!), and I don't remember the last time I was able to get everyone's clothes folded and put away in closets and drawers.  However, I do manage to keep clean countertops in the kitchen and toys are contained to the living room and the boys bedrooms (and bathtub and couch cushions and coat pockets--but that's another story).  And I have a handle on laundry enough to guarantee there are clean clothes to wear somewhere in the house.  My kids are generally well-behaved (at least in public) and seem to be hitting their developmental milestones on target.  Not necessarily in this order, they also appear to be learning about love, forgiveness, Jesus Christ, what it means to be family, and how to resolve conflict.  (That last one as of late has been the most challenging, with many efforts made to encourage healthy conflict resolution . . .)  Our life is at this point in time at least, one of busyness and nonstop movement.  Yet it is also one of great love and forgiveness.

So maybe these flashing lights are telling me more than to slow down and pay close attention to my (physical) surroundings.  Maybe they are a humbling (and uncomfortable) reminder that I am not perfect.  And more so, that I can forgive myself because I don't have to be.

Word Up

For a third year in a row, I've decided to "word up" and choose a single word to guide me through the coming year.  Instead of a traditional New Year's resolution that tends to fall flat over time or a stated goal that can easily be forgotten once achieved, I select a word to inspire and encourage me throughout the next 12 months.  I choose very carefully, as I've learned words are very powerful and once the universe is aware of what one is looking for, things play out in such a way that allows that very word to take root and become something greater than just a few letters on a page.

Fueled by my first two years--where TRUST gave me a run for my money in terms of holding faith when I could not see and when I had absolutely no control over matters that were incredibly big and scary--and JOYFUL supported me in taking a step back to see and appreciate all the wonderful people and things I am blessed to have in my life --I knew that this year's choice would be pivotal.  So I thought about it, and I prayed about it.  And I thought about it some more.  I mulled over several options in my head and heart, and yet kept going back to the one that came to me first: EMBRACE.

I really wrestled this time, and even after the clock ticked over to 12:00a on January 1st, I wasn't certain I'd chosen well.  However the longer I sit with my choice I do believe it is likely to serve me well this next year.  It isn't very glamorous or poetic, and it really doesn't "feel" as well as my previous words did, but I think that may just be the point and embracing my new word (no pun intended) may very well support me in making the future less stressful and uncomfortable.

You see, big things are happening for my family this year and as we get closer to certain milestones and events taking place, I find myself digging my heels in and holding back, wanting to postpone the changes that are sure to come my way.  I am not comfortable where I am and these changes--although challenging in both preparation and the moment of execution--are sure to take me closer to where I want to be with regards to finances, family, time, etc.  So why is it so easy to resist?  When I know the eventual outcome will be good, why do I choose to prolong the pain when I could just as easily choose to take action and end it more quickly?  If I spent half the effort to get what I want that I spend on pushing the pause button or temporarily closing the door I know I will need (and want) to walk through, I dare say my life would look much different. What exactly am I waiting for?

So 2015 is my year to EMBRACE.  To embrace the changes coming my way, to welcome them enthusiastically and as such, stop fighting the inevitable.  To participate more wholly in the solutions to my problems instead of resisting them with such vigor and/or pushing them them away for a future confrontation.  To embrace the relationships in my life that are difficult, and that I know are not likely to change any time soon; to accept them as they are and focus more seriously on healing what portions of those (and myself) I can.  To embrace the way things are--not in a complacent, whatever happens, happens way--but in a more peaceful and positive, here-I-am-and-here's-what-I-have-to-work-with way; to encourage myself to take more action in getting what I want, versus swimming in the same pool of "I wonder if..." or "I wish..." with future plans always staying in "someday" land.

To embrace all that this year has to offer.  I'm ready; let's go!