sharing isn't all it's cracked up to be

not only did i have to turn 40-stinkin'-one, but i also had to share my birthday with father's day. yes, i know at 40-stinkin'-one i should be mature enough to not have that bother me, but i guess i am an adolescent girl stuck in a middle-aged woman's body. emma even told her friends, "yeah, my mom's kind of being a baby about having to share her birthday with my dad."the truth hurts.

but here's the real truth: i didn't mind sharing even the "high holy day" of my birthday with father's day. i have always loved father's day because i had an amazing daddy...

and now my kids get to have an amazing daddy...

i may not be very good at sharing, but i am pretty good at knowing a good thing when i see it. and bill, well, he is a good thing. so it was a joy to have a weekend celebrating both bill as a father and god's faithfulness to me throughout lo, these many years of life. and let me tell you, i may be as immature as an adolescent girl sometimes, but i ate like an adolescent boy this weekend!

first we celebrated with deb and her family on saturday...

then with my own sweet little fam on sunday...

festivities included getting mani's and pedi's with em...

his and hers meals out (thai food for me and all you can eat pizza for bill) and froyo with the lewis family...

and a little trip to the park with the obligatory photo shoot...

it was a great day, despite the fact that i woke up looking noticeably older. see what i mean...

oh well. happy birthday to me. and happy father's day to my billy. we love you...

i love sharing all of my life with you, so i'm happy to share even my birthday as well.

Brush with Greatness

There are a lot times when I am proud to be an American...

And there are many times when I am proud of Americans...

The day we welcomed home our friend from his year long deployment in Iraq, I was both...

Especially of those who serve our country and sacrifice for our freedom. I cannot describe the beauty and intensity of the experience, but I hope these pictures tell the story.

The story of a family reunited...

The story of a mother's relief...

The story of the brave who go...

And the brave who stay behind...

There's a name for the characters in this kind of story: heroes. But we have another name for them: friends...

Welcome home.

Thank you.

We love you.

days to remember

June 14 is a day I will always remember. The day my sweet Mommy died. I had a dream night before last that I was able to talk to her again. I held her face in my hands and said through tears "I just miss you so much!" She didn't say anything, she just smiled with a look a love I will never forget. Much like the last interaction I ever had with her. Only in that moment, she was the one cradling my face in her weak little hand. But it was the same look of love.

Today I am remembering that day, but more than that I am remembering her...

Today I am singing the song Yesterday by Switchfoot you can listen to it here). The lyrics that capture my heart today are as follows...

Flowers cut and brought inside

Black cars in a single line

Your family in suits and ties

And you're free

The ache that I feel inside

Is where the light has left your eyes

I'm alone for our last goodbye

But you're free

I remember you like yesterday, yesterday

I still can't believe you're gone

I remember you like yesterday, yesterday

And until I'm with you, I'll carry on

Adrift on your ocean floor

I feel weightless, numb and sore

A part of you in me is torn

And you're free

I woke from a dream last night

I dreamt you were by my side

Reminding me I still had life

in me

I'll carry on

Every lament is a love song

yesterday, yesterday

I still can't believe you're gone

So long, my friend, so long

My lament today is a love song. A love song for my Mommy. A love song to my God.

Emma asked if we could use this day to celebrate that Gunga is in heaven instead of being sad that she is gone. Good idea, sweet girl. I know Gunga would approve.

gettin' tough on crime

summer means that my kids are spending a lot more time with each other which means a lot more laughter and fun... but don't let those smiling faces fool you. there's also a lot more fighting around our house as well. and this momma, well she's OVER it. i feel like we have tried everything. natural consequences (but the most natural consequence of being mean to a sibling is that they won't like you. that's not really what we want). lecturing. and disciplining til we are blue in the face.

i realize that, though natural, fighting between siblings is primarily an issue of the heart. a sick heart. or several of them as the case may be. the symptoms include things such as selishness, impatience, envy, rudeness, self-righteousness and insecurity. what they need, what we all need is a heart transplant. but, i can't do that. i can pray for them. i can encourage them, but i can't make them have affection for one another.

i have heard, though, that laughter is the best medicine. so that is what i have resorted to. it is impossible to be mad at someone you are laughing with, so the way we have gotten tough on crime around here is by using laughter as a discipline tool.

for example, tate and emma had to skip down the street holding hands in plain daylight. brutal.

jack and em had to make up a dance together. it was pretty good.

i am enjoying getting tough on crime. i'd welcome any ideas for their torture betterment.

there's a sold sign in front of my mom's house...

we've been moving things around, moving things out and moving things in to our house. as thankful as we are to have an offer on the house, it is sad to say goodbye to a place where love lived. so most of the cousins gathered to do some last loving and laughing there...

now my house is filled with treasures from my parent's home. and my garage is filled with furniture we have had in our home for nearly 20 years, that we have decided to part with. it is hard to say goodbye to these well-worn items that have survived (just barely) life in the kollar household.

and it is so strange to have the items that i grew up with, family heirlooms, in my home. but it's fun to see furniture given a new life or different purpose. to see it come alive again. though i know these things are still just stuff, they represent my heritage. even though they are precious to me, i feel like a bit of a stranger in my own home now without the things i have been used to being here.

i know this is just a transition and another part of grieving and in time the items from my childhood and the items from my married life will blend together, but for now i feel a little bit lost. in letting go, i am thankful that i still have Something, actually Someone, to hold onto. and a sweet little reminder of where my home really is.