Go for the Gold!

for jack's golden birthday, we needed a celebration fit for a king...

at the bus stop with his subjects friends...

for his birthday dinner he requested breakfast for dinner...

(he is very Elf-like in his love of syrup. how could he even taste the french toast after drowning it?)

the kids had fun with 1 football cake and 4 forks...

then a few days later, it was time for 12 boys to overtake our home and the park across the street 

for a party

(thank you lord for the park across the street!!!)

since it was jack's golden birthday we went for a "go for the gold" theme. 

i found these invitations on laura's etsy shop...

she was so great to work with.

the kids played crazy games like crab soccer and free style long jump...

really, though, jack just wanted to play football with his friends.

i really need to be done with the theme parties and just let the boy free style it.

but we all know i want to have the fun of creating and decorating...

do you get how my pizza fits with the theme?

it might have been a little strange, but i liked it.

the strangest thing of all is that i was actually ready for the party. 

yes, you read that correctly. 

i don't know what happened, but i was ready. and i wasn't stressed.

and i was even showered and had make up on.

miracles do happen.

though i admit i am partly motivated by my own desires in party planning,

the bottom line to me is celebrating one thing...

my boy.

and he had a blast!

as all the neighbors heard.

when i wore a skinny, leather tie

something weird happened here over the weekend. my daughter went to her first middle school dance...

it was a costume dance. first she was gonna be katniss. then she was going to be m&m's with a friend. then she was gonna be a hobo. then she dressed in a cute new outfit and went as...

herself.

and why, on a limited budget, did you buy your daughter a new outfit for a middle school dance, one might ask. valid question. the only answer i have is that i was a middle school girl once. and truth is, i revert to that state every so often. which is what i did when my daughter was crying the night before the dance because she felt like her plans kept falling through for what she was going to wear. and i knew that it was not really about what she was going to wear but about finding her place in a new place. suddenly it was 1983. i remember the insecurity and the inner turmoil and the crazy whacked out hormones. now that i mention it, 42 doesn't seem that different than 12. in that moment, i made a decision you won't find in any parenting book. i'm not proud of it, but i intersected emma's insecurity with a cute new outfit. suddenly i was back in my gray acid washed jeans, matching striped vest and skinny black, leather tie that i wore to a middle school dance in the 80's. i felt gnarly, rad, and totally tubular all in one.

and that's how she felt when she went as herself, only with more modern, less 80's adjectives...

instead out of place and insecure, i wanted her to feel strong, beautiful and fierce. 'cause she doesn't need a costume for that. she just needs to be herself. {she doesn't need a new outfit either, i know, but let's just let give me a pass on that one for now. how can you trust the judgement of a girl in a skinny leather tie anyway?}

and you know how a dad is supposed to feel when his daughter goes off to a middle school dance? protective...

and proud of his little girl, who isn't exactly his "little" girl anymore, but still the apple of his eye...

golden boy.

This is our golden boy...

Not just because he has a perma-tan. 

But because he is ten on the tenth. 

On 10/10 even.

Honestly, it's hard to find words that capture who Jack is. But these images seem to capture his essence...

His charming, bigger-than-life, passionate, fun-loving, "x-factor", essence. His "bigness" is quite evident on the outside, but the hidden jewel inside is his tenderness. As spunky as he may be, at heart, this boy is a lover not a fighter...

 

And, oh how we love YOU, Jack.

Whether shaggy-haired or clean cut.

Whether crazy or cuddly.

Whether loud or...louder.

You are our golden boy every year. Every day. Every minute.

Happy, happy birthday son.

Assistant to the Regional Manager

No one in the working world would hire me as a manager. I am easily distracted, more into fun than productivity, and can't keep track of details. And yet, I am employed as a manager. A manager of my home. And I kind of stink at it.

Especially since we moved. When we lived in Nebraska, I had a rhythm and routine to life. I still was hopeless at details, but I had back up plans and back up people. I really hoped that moving to Florida I would get my act together a bit more. Instead, I have lost my rhythm and routines. I lost my back up plans and back up people. And, quite frankly, I think I have lost my mind. It's feels like my weaknesses are on full display. I spend a lot of my time late, lost, and looking for things.

I know we are still transitioning to a new place, so I want to give myself grace. And I know I can't change my essential nature. But a little input never hurt anybody. So, I am opening it up to my little corner of the blogosphere. What things help you to manage your home and family? I can use help in ANY area...meals, laundry, scheduling, etc. You name it, I am struggling with it. :)

Though the move may have me drowning in sea of details, it also has meant we have many forms of escapism right at our fingertips. So instead of meal planning or laundry we can do things like take a day to go to Sea World with friends...

Having a good time seems to be the only thing I can successfully manage in life. Well, at least I got that!

a pile of rubble

holy cake batter, ben and jerry's ice cream was on sale at our delightful, yet over-priced local grocery store! so we whipped open 6 different flavors and commenced our family night. a habit we have gotten away from in the mayhem surrounding our move. the evening was so delightful that we even ate outside. without sweat rolling down our thighs (an unfortunate, yet common experience for me this summer). it was a breezy, beautiful, love bug-free evening. and it was delightful.

an especially nice treat after spending much of the day crying. i think it was triggered by lulu's smack down with the corner of a wall last night. the wall won...

tate and i were at the ER until 1am while lulu got 7 stitches. it was not a pleasant ordeal, though the patient was undeniably pleasant and brave. she charmed the doctors and everyone in the waiting room, as per usual...

and the big brother was just plain amazing. he did his homework in a pretty crazy emergency room. and comforted his baby sis...

not to mention his mom.

the best quote of the night came when we nervously let lulu see her stitches. i was thinking she might be freaked out, but instead she simply said "wow. i am so cute"...

the trip to the ER triggered my sad day not because of the injury. granted, i was tired which made the tears come more easily. but today was weepy for me because the last time lulu had stitches i was in nebraska. i was with my sisters and my niece. and i felt, in many ways, like a completely different person.

but now i am here. not knowing where to take my child when she's hurt. not having my sister to talk me down off the ledge while i try to talk my daughter down off a ledge. not having my niece fumble for the words of the songs from tangled making me smile and feel so home. 

so i cried, on and off, for the better part of the day. and i thought about these kids of mine. these brave little souls have, not by choice, left everything they've known and they are here. feeling like completely different people themselves. not knowing what to do. and not being known.

except by the people sitting around the table, eating ice cream on a breezy florida night. together we are. together and known in our new world of unknown.

so tonight, together, we made a little altar to the lord. to thank him that even though we may not be very known here, we are fully known. and we are not alone. and as our little stones of thankfulness started piling up, i realized something: it may look like a pile of rubble from one perspective. but it's not. it is a beautiful display to the goodness of god. as we were thanking god for people and things he has blessed us with in these past three months, my swollen little red eyes were lifted up. just like our family activity, my life, this little pile of rubble, is being built into an altar for the lord...

and i am thankful. even on the weepy days.

when love comes down

there is something special when someone comes into your world. that incarnational kind of love speaks volumes. and brings healing. which is exactly what happened when my sister and brother in law came to visit us. it was just good medicine for my heart, my soul, my kids and for my home. i felt more at home in my home just because they were in it. their presence alone was an amazing gift. but they also served us in so many different ways. uncle steve painted rooms...

(hello, teal!)

and aunt carrie unpacked boxes. arranged and rearranged. decorated and re-decorated. and cleaned it all up before she left. they even surprised emma by getting the girls' room decorated...

it is still in process, but what a fun gift they gave of re-upholstering the headboards, a project i dreaded doing. they went from this...

to this...

in about two hours.

though i must say i am going to miss the 70's potted plants from my sister amy's room growing up. which then became "aunt maxine and uncles charles' room" in my parents house (don't ask). i tried to talk em into a groovy retro room, but she wasn't feeling it. we left the potted plants in tact underneath, so that they can return at some point. maybe when we are older, they will be in "aunt carrie and uncle steve's room" in our home.

with the new paint, headboards and bedding, the girls were thrilled with the reveal...

and, as always, thrilled with aunt carrie and uncle steve...

though there are plenty of things to do near us, we stayed close to home for the most part. though we did make it to our favorite froyo place three times in four days. we didn't venture out because carrie and steve chose to bless us by helping us make our house seem more like a home. i love  the changes we are making to make the house more "us". but what helps the house feel more home is that they were here. they were with us. and they were for us. serving, counseling, encouraging and uplifting us...

and so, it kinda stunk to say goodbye...

we are grateful both for them and to them. they left their home. they came to us. they loved us. sounds like the way jesus loved and loves us, doesn't it? thank you, aunt carrie and uncle steve, for being his hands and feet to us. we love you! 

p.s. if you come back, we promise to take you to menchie's even more!

the devil went down to florida

I am not one to cry "devil!" too much, but there is one thing I am pretty sure of: my little family is under attack. Not of the tragic or super dramatic variety, but there is stuff going on. Hurricane Isaac may have passed us by, but storms are brewing here. They are just storms of a different kind. Internal unsettledness. Fear. Anxiety. Conflict. Deep sadness. Little lies that creep into the heart and mind.

Our move has brought to the surface plenty of issues that existed before, but could be more easily handled with our typical coping mechanisms. But everything has been shaken up and those coping mechanisms are now rising to the surface. I am learning SO much about my kids and, mostly, about myself. And trust me, that last part really ain't too purty.

Since we've moved, it's interesting how "all roads lead to Nebraska". When anything makes us sad, frustrated or disappointed, the underlying sadness about leaving "home" is where we always seem to end up. The funny thing is, this move has gone about as well as it could have gone. We have met so many incredible people here who we wouldn't trade for the world. But deep down, things are still churning. We are bumping up against each other, each with our open wounds, and it has felt like we all are a bit bloodied at times.

But, as I have heard in time of war, you become a band of brothers. And this is my prayer, that in the midst of the battle, we wouldn't forget that we are on the same side. We are a team. Team Kollar. We may be a bit of a sucky team right now in some ways, but there's no other team I would want to fight with, and especially fight for.

And that's what i know i need to do. I'm a youngest child. I sort of like having things handed to me on a silver platter. But I am gonna have to fight for my own inner stability. For my own peace and rest to be stayed on my Jesus. And I am going to have to fight, in prayer and with tenacious love and grace, FOR my children. They need me to be strong right now.

But the truth is, I don't think I've ever been more fragile. And yet there is something so empowering about knowledge.  I am gaining new, albeit sometimes unpleasant, knowledge about my own fears and false idols every day. Which will, by god's grace, make me stronger as time goes by. I feel very weak right now, but I am clinging to the promise that when we are weak, He is strong.

Though I see the frailty, I also see ways we are growing closer both to God and to each other. This move has given opportunity for me to see emotional capacity in my kids that I have never seen before. We are learning forgiveness, grace and understanding all over again.

The good, the bad, and the ugly. We've got it all going on. It's not been a really attractive process, but I think it's called growth. So take that, devil. I think Team Kollar is gonna beat you after all.