"it's to do with the hair"

i have much to blog about (thanksgiving, a black friday birthday, and everyday weird stuff), but little time. so naturally, i will blog about hair.

haircut...

hairdo...

and hair-y...

all the other stuff will have to wait.

counting

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

(i'm just getting started)

happy thanksgiving.

have fun counting your blessings.

cry out to jesus

we had a morning consisting of one tantrum after another. lulu's, not mine. though believe me i felt like throwing one. there was just a whole lotta two going on...

in such moments, i have been teaching lulu to pray "help me, jesus" because this is what i need to pray in such moments. she will repeat after me.

but today she prayed her first prayer like this all on her own.

i was combing out her hair while giving her a bath. it had been a couple of days and when that is the case, it isn't a very fun process.

today she said all on her own "jesus help for me. my hair hurts."

amen, sweetie.

pulling the trigger on birthday fun

it's been several days of non-stop celebration for team kollar. our tradition for bill's birthday is dinner at red robin...

because it's fun to have strangers sing happy birthday to you. and because my man loves his cheeseburger and fries with a "big cup of mayo" for dipping the fries. just like the french. and people with high cholesterol.

we are still getting used to tate's birthday without his birthday buddy, my mom known as gunga. before last year, it was like this...

tate never decided how he would spend his birthday. he just cherished that he shared that special day with her. and got to hear her say yet again, "tatie, you were my best birthday present ever." not only do we feel her absence in our celebration, but it means that tate now decides what the day will be like. last year family came to town to be with him, so there was no deciding. this year, i gave him a list of 6 things that i thought were suitable for a golden birthday celebration. he chose laser tag with his cousins and french silk pie...

we went to a three level laser tag course. i thought it was sweet how excited emmie was that i was playing until i heard her say, "now i won't get the low score." my kids have such little faith in me. but her comments were not undeserved. the whole thing was rather disturbing. there is something disconcerting about coming around a corner and finding your husband like this...

also each time i would get shot, i guess it upset me so much when i didn't know who the perp was that i would be screaming "who shot me? who shot me?!" while failing about. apparently as i was doing this, my nephew (with a military background) was shooting me repeatedly. the hysterical female...always an easy target.

then there was the realization in literally the last minute i was in the arena, that i had been holding the gun backwards the entire time. so, it is really hard to know how many of the times i was shot were other assassins, or the friendly fire of me just shooting myself. i knew i wouldn't do well at such an activity. but it was even worse than i thought. my trigger happy nephew got 8150. tate got 5600. my score?

you probably can't read that, but it reads 0025. in that last minute when i finally learned which way to shoot the gun, i hit a bonus target on the wall thus not ending the game with 0000. brilliant. if you own a gun shop, never never NEVER sell me a gun.

we had to hit the arcade too because you have to get tons and tons of tickets so they can award you worthless prizes, right? lulu had her own way of playing skee ball...

she shoots like her momma.

but she doesn't dance like her momma...

i don't know what version of ddr lulu thought she was doing, but that is definitely not the kind of dancing we want her doing. ever. it's only funny because she had no idea what she was doing.

though tate missed his birthday buddy, my sister carrie sent a text that was so precious...

i still love that tate and gunga share a bday. JOY trumps sorrow!" amen. there was sorrow at not having gunga with us. but mostly, there was joy...

golden

he's 14 on the 14th...

so on this golden birthday, here are 14 things i love about tater:

1) he is thoughtful. (as a preschooler, he was forever presenting me of love gifts consisting of weeds or leaves or pieces of lint.)

2) he is hilarious. (i tend to playfully tease the kid quite a bit. on one such occasion he said, "mom, i'm gonna get you back someday. when you are in the nursing home, you better sleep with one eye open.")

3) his hair is soooo soft. he has better "bieber hair" than justin himself had.

4) he accepts me for who i am and loves me despite my flaws.

5) he is way smarter than i'll ever be (but doesn't flaunt it).

6) those dark eyes and that year-round tan.

7) he is an "old soul".

8) when he runs, he looks like poetry in motion (with that perfect hair blowing in the wind).

9) he is loyal.

10) he loves happy endings.

11) he has a photographic memory.

12) he thinks deeply about life and god and purpose.

13) he is cautious, but up for an adventure.

14) he is amazing with little kids.

are you thinking what i am thinking as i look over that list? yes, this young man is going to make a fine husband someday. not that i'm rushing into that, mind you. i am fully prepared to beat off girls with a broom. but it's not because i want to remain the woman in his life. i'm not anymore. i was dethroned on july 27, 2009 when he met his baby sister. he recently told me, "mom, i'm never going to be able to get married because i'll never love a girl as much as i love lulu."

and so i sigh for the tenth time while writing this post. he is growing up. they are all growing up. and that is exactly what i want them to do. but it's just so weird. i've seen him through every stage: bob the builder, thomas the tank engine, skateboard skills, a space obsession, making art from trash, star wars, pokemon, the warriors books (aka itty bitty kitty) the office, the deepening voice, the ipod, and now he is on the verge of high school. seriously?

i know i tell you that you're on restriction every time you show signs of growing up, but here's the real truth, tater...i am okay with you growing up. i loved you as a baby and i love you as a teenager. wait, is that a mustache? you're on restriction!

happy birthday, golden boy. you are loved.

"he has showed you, o man, what is good.

and what does the lord require of you?

to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your god."

micah 6:8

reason #854

recently we welcomed bill home from a trip by teepeeing the front yard.

tate, a sensible 40 year old trapped in a 14 year old body, questioned this idea saying that it wasn't a very nice welcome home gift if dad had to clean it up.

naturally i responded by singing,

every party has a pooper and that is you. party pooper!

(sadly, it may be that i am a 14 year old trapped in a 41 year old body)

in addition, i promised that i would be the one to pick it up.

so the rest of us carried on with our welcome home "gift".

and i think bill liked it.

or maybe politely tolerated it.

but unfortunately, i didn't didn't keep my word.

i got distracted (go figure) with dinner and kids and the like

and before i knew it he had picked up all the toilet paper.

and meticulously rolled it back up.

so it could be put to good use...

and that, my friends, is reason #854 why i LOVE this man...

this man who is having a birthday today.

i don't need to broadcast his age,

but i'll give you a little hint.

it's half of 90.

but this middle-aged man is hot.

a smokin' hot word nerd he is.

and more importantly, he is humble.

and honest.

and kind.

and genuine.

and a man after god's own heart.

happy birthday, babe. there are more than 854 reasons why i love you.

infinitely more, to be exact.

help me.

this sweet little thing has me bewitched...

bemused...

and bedazzled...

but she also has me befuddled.

we have had such on again/off again regression in potty train that my head is spinning. there is no question that she knows what to do. and that she knows how to do it. she will go for hours and be fine. she will go for a week with no issues. and then: total regression.

she had five accidents yesterday. five. here was our conversation after one of those accidents happened while i was holding her...

me: "lulu, you peed on me."

lulu: "i'm sorry mom. but here's the deal: it's not your problem. it's my problem."

but it becomes my problem when your pee is on my body, girl. so bloggy universe, i am crying out for help. i've tried candy. i've used psychology (two of her regressions were connected to one of her parents being out of town). and i've even cried about it.

i know this is really not a big deal, but it is frustrating and i am wondering

if there is something i could do (or not do) to help the situation.

to borrow lu's words, it's not your problem. it's my problem...but i could use your help.