A change of pace

We have a weird life. We are not teachers, professors, or students but we still live by semesters. We work with a campus ministry. And we love it. Still. Even though we are getting kind of up there in age. The semester has ended which means we have a change of pace. Our schedule changes. Our phone doesn't ring as much. As much as I love the students, I appreciate the opportunity to focus fully on my family because I can tend to feel pretty stretched during the school year.

This year we had some really special experiences that highlight some perks of our job for our family. They all have to do with parties. Tate had 5 little boys over for a birthday sleepover back in November. During the party he had a surprise visit from 4 college guys and recent graduates. They came bearing gifts and then retreated to the basement for a massive nerf gun fight, light saber dueling...
and tickle fest...
It was easily the highlight of the night...
Emmie's birthday party was a Dance party. Our two female interns came to help me as the dance instructor and DJ...
The girls had their own choreographed number to perform when the parents came to pick them up...
It was the kind of party that people go into debt for...and these women helped me for free. I especially loved the way all the little girls responded to Becky and Daley who showered them with love and attention...
And finally, how many 8 and 6 year old kids go to Frat parties? Mine do! Here they are trying their hands as DeeJay's...
In case you are concerned, it was a philanthropy, not the kind of Frat party that children should not be allowed anywhere near.

But it's not always fun and games. In fact, there was another dance party that didn't go over so well this year. Every year our students have a formal and Bill and I have never gone in the past for various reasons. This year we decided to go and I learned a valuable lesson. While I don't think we are too old for college ministry, I do believe we are too old for college parties. I felt like such a poser. I'm 38 and I'm at a party with 18-22 year olds. Not that I don't love them, but I have never felt so old in my life. I was miserable. Bill on the other hand, was unfazed. He was a "maniac, a maniac on the floor". Here's a picture that captured our different experiences that night...
I think we'll be staying home next year and going to bed at 9:30pm like normal middle-aged people.

I've had a few days to recover. There is no longer an ache in my heart for "what could have been". I refer, of course, to Danny Gokey's untimely departure from American Idol. I was prepared for it, though that didn't keep me from crying. Yes, there were a few real tears shed. I know I should be embarrassed that I cried about American Idol. My youngest two were laughing at me. Thanks a lot, guys. But Tate, the sensitive type, offered to buy me Danny's CD when it comes out.

We're all glad Kris is in the Finale, though. Emmie was jumping up and down screaming. I appreciate his humility. No need to follow Simon's advice to be cocky like him. Even if we didn't adore his voice and his spin on every song he sings, I always love an underdog.

I'm feeling like I am in an unhealthy relationship with American Idol. Does anyone else feel like there is some serious manipulation going on? Last year there was Simon's claim that David Archuleta had a "knock out" of David Cook in last years Finale, when it a) that was not at all true and b) it seemed more like a ploy to inspire Cook fans and Archie-haters to vote for Cook.

Now this year, we've got the judges drooling over Adam Lame-bert. I know he's really not lame, but it just makes me feel better to say it. If he really is a "rock god", won't we figure that out for ourselves? We don't need "experts" to tell us who to vote for. And we certainly don't need Katy Perry wearing it in rhinestones (Puh-leaze!). If you LOVE Adam, I respect that. He is cool. He is talented. As for me, I don't mind the guy-liner. I'm okay with the black nails. And I totally dig his hair. But I just don't love his voice. If I want someone to hit those high notes, Mariah Carey is still alive and well.

Simon, go to counseling. You need to stop trying to control the viewing public. And while you are at it, get over yourself.

We Salute You

It is such a loss to me that me kids don't have their Granddaddy anymore. He died when they were 5, 2, and 4 months. Tate is the only one with genuine memories of him and those are fading. But even in his absence, their love and honor for him continues to grow.

The 5th graders have a big spring project. They do a research paper on a historical figure, present it in class, create a display board and dress up as that character in a Wax Museum for family and other students to walk through. Tate chose Jimmy Doolittle, a pilot who led the air raid on Tokyo in response to the attack on Pearl Harbor. Doolittle went on to become a General in the Air Force. This wasn't a random choice. Tate chose Jimmy Doolittle as a tribute to my Dad who was a pilot and a Lt. General in the Air Force.
He got to wear my Dad's uniform and hat. I can't begin to describe the feelings I had seeing Tate in it. He had a framed picture of my Dad at his table and he wrote the following words of explanation on it "I chose Jimmy Doolittle because my grandfather was a pilot and a General in the Air Force and I wanted to research someone in honor of him. My grandfather was a big inspiration to work hard and persevere. I wish he was here." Be still, my beating heart.

Below he is in Wax Museum form. The characters would come to life if you asked them questions about the person they represented. He knows just about everything there is to know about James H. Doolittle.
He worked so hard on his display board. The vision was all his, and I just helped to tape things on. When we were all done he leaned back and sighed saying "Ahh, I love my project." What a blessing for him to know the satisfaction of a job well done.
Jack has been telling all the kindergartners about James H. Doolittle for weeks. Not the usual figure for a 6 year old to be into, but Tate's brother and sister were so proud of him...

Lt. General Martin G. Colladay, also known as Daddy and Granddaddy, your legacy lives on. You are a worthy hero. We are proud to have belonged to you. I, too, wish you were here. I know you would have been proud of Tate as well.

Queen for a Day

I love my Mommy. She was literally "Queen for a Day" back in the day, so I thought it was only fair that I got my turn. When my oldest was in Kindergarten I told him that on Mother's Day it was tradition to refer to your Mom as "O, Queen" all day. His Kindergarten teacher kindly backed me up on this when I asked her to enter into my deception. And so a new holiday was born...Queen's Day.

This tradition has continued over the years in our home. Although now,"Your Majesty" or "Her highness" have become acceptable forms of address on Queen's day. I think it's great fun and I thought they did too until the other night. I was reminding them that Queen's Day was coming up and going over the "terms of use" when Emmie got really agitated. She said "Mom, it seems like you want this day to be all about you and all you want is the glory for yourself." Ouch. Being as mature and godly as I am, I basically told her that she had to play along because it was my special day. To which they responded (as they do every year) "When is Kid's day?". To which we responded, like every parent who has gone before us, "You get every other day of the year."

After reflecting on it for a few days, I told the kids that they did not have to call me "O, Queen" unless they wanted to. I explained that I thought it was just a fun and amusing tradition, but they could decide if they wanted to participate. Mostly I wanted to repent, but I also kind of was trying reverse psychology on Emmie. It didn't work. She wanted to call me "Mom". That's okay, it is my name after all.

In the course of our conversation, Tate said "I'll call you 'O, Queen.' I know not every family does it, but for those of us who do, it's kind of fun." Oh no, I think we're having a Santa Claus moment. Tate believed me (thanks to his trustworthy kindergarten teacher) and has thought all these years that it is a common tradition to refer to one's mother as "O Queen" on Mother's Day not just something his kooky mom made up to amuse herself. Thankfully, he had a good laugh about it.

The Queen with her royal subjects...

I also had a good laugh about the card Emmie made for me at school. It was a sheet that she filled in the answers to. Her answers are in italics...

My Mom can do many things! I think she's best at sitting, cooking, sleeping
My Mom is as pretty as a...Mom
My Mom is smart! She even knows...10 x 10

This whole "Queen's Day" experience has caused me to re-evaluate how I view Mother's Day. It used to be my special day. A time for everyone to pamper me and see to it that I don't have to lift a finger. Now believe me, I will wholeheartedly accept being treated in this manner any day, but I have come to realize that Mother's Day is special precisely because I get the joy of being a mother every day. I often forget this the other 364 days of the year, but today I want to remember this amazing privilege.

I also want to remember the mother who has brought my daughter into the world. I don't know what circumstances will take our baby from her arms to place her in mine, but I know we are forever linked. O Queen, who may hold our Ethiopian Princess right now, I esteem you. I never knew how much my heart would ache for you. May God hold you close as you walk down this path.

No hablo espanol...

This morning I woke up and said to my husband, "Oh yeah, it's Cinqo de Mayo today."

He said rather amused, "No, that was Wednesday."

Me: "Doesn't cinqo mean seven?"

Now he's really amused.

And this, my friends, is why I don't home school.

UPDATE: Apparently the number 5 in Spanish is spelled "cinco," not "cinqo." I am not correcting my post since I think it only reinforces my overall point. For my husband's vindication, he did know that Cinco de Mayo was Tuesday, not Wednesday and I just recalled the story incorrectly. Adios amigos.

Brush with Greatness

If you want to live vicariously through someone right now, I offer you my friend Mindee. To get the full story, go check out her blog starting here (which is a blast even under normal circumstances) but quite exciting right now. The short version is...

SHE IS ON HER WAY TO NEW YORK TO BE ON THE RACHAEL RAY SHOW ALONG WITH FORMER PRESIDENT BILL CLINTON.

Yes. My friend. Rachael Ray. Bill Clinton. New York City. Not bad.

This doesn't really happen everyday to people around here. You may wonder HOW does one just happen to end up on the Rachael Ray show with Bill Clinton. Well, it's simple. Just volunteer to save your kid's school from the torment of fundraisers that charge $12 for one lousy chip clip by heading up a Walk-a-Thon. Then have the proceeds from said Walk-a-Thon go toward building a 1/4 mile walking track for the school. When the school has all the students walk or run a lap every day when they go out for recess, your school will be named the healthiest school in your state by Bill Clinton's foundation "The Alliance for a Healthier Generation". Rachael Ray will find out that you are a mom making a difference in your community and will want you to be on a Mother's Day Special. And off you'll go to New York City.

Or you could just follow along as Mindee goes since she already did all that stuff.

It's supposed to air on Thursday 5/7. You can check out the schedule here. Just think you can tell people that you know someone who knows someone who is on TV, eating a dish prepared by Rachael Ray and a former president? How is that for a brush with greatness? And you really should know what an incredibly significant role I play in this whole scenario.

First of all, I went to one PTO meeting. And I've attended all the Walk-a-Thon's. And I think I give, like, $6 every year. That's 50 cents a month, you know. But, it gets even better than that. I had the privilege of being one of Mindee's shopping assistants. When she goes on national TV looking SMOKIN' HOT you can know that I had a teeny weeny bit to do with that. It's not every day that you get to go shopping and advise your friend what to wear on TV. Unless you are on "The Hills" or something. You can read about our shopping trip here.

Here's the deal with my friend and her new found 15 minutes of fame: she was pretty famous to me before anyone wanted her on TV. She is wise and thoughtful and oh-so-witty. She has devoted countless hours to serve her kids and their school. And I'm not just kissing up to her so she'll bring me back some EVOO signed by Rachael Ray. My friendship with Mindee (and our other shopping pal, Tracey) is a sign of God's goodness to me.

A few years back, I knew each of them just a bit through MOPS. I remember the first day of school when their youngest kids were going to 1st grade all day. I saw them in the parking lot and they said they were off for a day of shopping together. I remember thinking "I wish I could be friends with them and go shopping too." (I know...deep down I am still totally a junior high girl!) And so our shopping trip to ensure our friend will wow the general public on national TV was more than just an incredible adventure. It was a gift from the Lord to this 38 year old with a teeny bopper psyche. I got my fun shopping trip with these two women after all.

Rachael Ray and Mr. President, get ready for your brush with greatness!

Danny Fanny

It's been awhile since I've blogged about American Idol. Seeing how I am constantly singing "Come Rain or Come Shine" (as performed by Danny Gokey last week), it might be a good time to wax eloquent on the virtues of Danny and Kris. Which are legion.

When it comes to music, I'm not very knowledgeable. All I know is what my ears tell me. And my ears tell me that Danny's voice is divine. Bluesy. Throaty. Raspy. Perfect. And he exudes a joy and passion that is contagious. And even without the back story, I would love Danny's voice every day of the week and twice on Sunday. Not everyone in my family is jumping on board the Danny train. I asked Emmie to tell me why she didn't like Danny's voice because it seriously boggled my mind. Her answer: "Well, the first reason is because you like him so much and the second reason is because I just don't." Alrighty then.

We love Kris around here too. I was ready to buy his CD in Hollywood week. And Emmie, well, she really likes Kris. In fact, once when the camera once panned the audience, I pointed Kris's wife out to her. She said, "I want her job." For over a year now when she plays barbies or doll house she names the Dad "Nick" after Nick Jonas. She is now naming him "Kris". KRIS ALLEN HAS USURPED NICK JONAS? This is big.

All the final contestants are truly talented. Here's the thing (this used to be my phrase, but Kara stole it and now uses it with reckless abandon)...I realize that Adam is talented. He is a showman's showman. Despite the fabulous strut down the steps last week, I just don't really get him. A bit over the top for me when I think about music I want to sing in my car. And I hate to be one for conspiracy theories, but after last week's performances, I couldn't help but think Adam was privy to the best filming and camera angles of the night.

And sweet little Allison. Oh to have that voice! I loved her dialing it down a bit this week with one of my all-time favorite songs "Someone to Watch Over Me". Have you heard Sting's version of that, by the way? I will miss her when she goes home, hopefully in the next two weeks. I don't think it's any secret (Danny) who I hope will be the last two (Kris) standing.

So here I sit, playing Danny's performance over and over again on americanidol.com. This is how my brand of OCD plays out. The past week has had some emotional drama for me and I think Danny's voice is accompanying the Holy Spirit as He walks me through each day. I'm so thankful that God is walking us through this life, and our adoption process, come rain or come shine. Not that God needs any help but if my life is going to have a soundtrack, I'd be proud to have Danny rocking the vocals.