Giant's Causeway and Bushmills

Two weekends ago we took a short trip on a beautiful day to the natural mystery called Giants Causeway.  Not only did we have beautiful weather to travel by, but everyone was in a great mood, and fun was had by all.  To read more about the causeway click here.  

The shortened, non factual version...they are a bunch of crazy rock formation on the northern coast. 

Afterwards we decided to venture for a small snack/dinner in Bushmills, a small town near the causeway that also is home to Bushmills distillery.  It is also where I finally had my first proper pint since I've been here....2 months, can you believe it?

Call me crazy.

A few weeks ago I posted this blog post....mostly leaving people wondering if that was me, and if I was crazy.  Yes and yes.  I was convinced by the volunteers to participate in what is called co-steering - also known as "getting in ice cold water and beat up by giant waves while pretending to look dangerous."  It ended up being much more fun than I had anticipated, and I've got the pictures to prove it. 

The whole group post-adventure....still smiling...still alive.

At one point one of the guides was swimming backwards and talking to us when a seal popped its head right up behind him.  After the initial fear of being attacked by a seal (for reals) I could enjoy just how cool it was to be in that moment and at that place.

The photograph

Three years ago yesterday I wrote this blog post.  Later that day I got to see this picture:

 

Yesterday - three years after the exact date of refferral - a copy of the above  picture arrived in my mailbox.  It was a copy I had ordered to hang up in my office, along with a bunch of other pictures.  The coincidence wasn't lost on me.  And tonight as we were reading stories to our little boys I studied their faces with extra supermom-power-intensity.  

I can't believe they're mine.  I can't believe I've been so lucky.  I can't believe I love them so much. I can't believe that the above little boy came home to us and started what has turned out to be a pretty awesome little family.  

I can't believe his cheeks were so darn chubby.

(sigh...love them)

What did you do for Halloween?

Carving Pumpkins with the volunteers

Scooping out all the insides

All done!

Taking a break from serious pumpkin carving

The finished product!

Dressing up for school party - Hee haw!

Alice in Wonderland....and a scary guy on the end.

A bunny and mouse getting ready for the parade

A big Halloween parade followed by fireworks!

Bubye Pafifier

Dear Pafifier (a.k.a. Pacifier):

It's been a good run.  You've been deeply loved by a little toe-head boy who has had you in his clutches since the day he was born.  But this is your goodbye notice - your "dear john" if you will.  Oh, it isn't my choice.  Believe me, I didn't choose this.  You see, I loved you too.  I loved how you would easily make any terrible situation better.  I loved that the minute I pulled you out, my son was a magnetic cuddle bug - pulled by gravity to my shoulder, only to bend to the curve of my chest and arms....a perfect embrace.
But now I must bid you farewell.

On Sunday when we thought we lost you right before naptime I was devastated.  NOT NAPTIME! was what I was thinking, but when I went it to tell my little anticipating one year old that you were gone - never to be found - three things happened.

1. He looked up at me and said "never to be found?"
2. He shrugged his shoulders and said "okay."
3. And then he fell asleep without a sound.

I know...I thought there would be more as well.  And when I found you during naptime while he was fast asleep it took everything in my power to put you up in the closet - keeping you close by for any night-time emergencies, rather than on his pillow next to his slumbering body.  And when he didn't ask for you for days after that?  What can I say?  It broke my heart as well.  And last night was the kicker.  When he was throwing up and crying and he asked for you.  Do you know how hard it was for me to say you were gone when all along you were only an arm's length away?  And he just accepted it - so trusting.  Letting that happen was one of the hardest things I've had to do.

I know there are parents out there that would give their left arm to break their kids of you, but the truth is that I wasn't ready.  It was just another reminder of how little control I have over my babies growing up.  A reminder that I won't get to decide when he stops sitting on my lap, or asking me to read stories, or giving me a big smacking kiss on the lips.  Or calling me "mommy."  Like you, these things will someday become things of the past, and you are just another reminder of that.  

So stop feeling sorry for yourself, because I'm doing enough of that for the both of us.  

Yours truly....The mom.

Our Deepest Fear

Today the volunteer leading worship shared this poem by Marrianne Williamson, read by Nelson Mandela at his 1994 inaugural speech.  I'm sure I've heard it before, but today it resonated with me, and I wanted to share it.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

That Mom

I want to be that mom.

that isn't afraid to take a silly photograph because she'll look bad.
that isn't terrified of taking chances.
that teaches her kids to have the confidence to try new things.
that tells bad jokes and funny stories that their friends will learn to love.
that isn't ashamed to squeeze into a wet suit that is two sizes too small.
that teaches them to say no to peer pressure, but yes to ice cream for dinner.
that can lift a couch up over her head (or maybe just one end of a loveseat) without breaking a sweat.
that can build a bookshelf with her bare hands.
that will skip mopping the floor to read stories (and maybe catch the most recent episode of Grey's Anatomy).
that fosters their creativity.
that allows them to be themselves, but doesn't allow them to interrupt adults.
that will admit she is wrong...or sorry...or thankful.
that will dance in public, even when I'm terrified.
that they can be proud of.