How did this happen???

We moved into this house I don't remember how many years ago. Eight? It's a three bedroom rambler/ranch (depending on what area of the country you live in) and we had no children.

I wasn't even going to attempt to share a closet with Captain America. So I chose the biggest closet in the house, even though it wasn't in our bedroom. It was kind of like having a ginormous walk in closet. A dressing room, if you will. Then we had Ella. She moved into the last room, so it didn't matter. Her closet was enough for tiny baby clothes.

Then we had Natalie. She moved into my dressing room. And I gave her a fraction of the closet for her tiny baby clothes. And then she got bigger. And she turned into a clothes horse like her mother.

Many months ago, the girls decided they wanted to share a room. I was not about to argue, because I wanted office space. So they moved in together. Ella still refers to it as Natalie's room. It recently occurred to me how silly it was that I was sharing a closet with Natalie in their room, and Ella's clothes were in my office. On Saturday nights before I had to sing at church, I'd have to pick out clothes before they went to bed because I'd be gone by the time they woke up.

This past Saturday I swapped closet space with Ella, hoping it will make her feel more like that's her room too. Also looking forward to having 24 hr access to my closet. BUT NOW I HAVE THE SMALLEST CLOSET IN THE HOUSE.

But the most clothes.

And shoes.

It looked ok at first. But I've really only got half of my summer wardrobe in there. So today I made a spur of the moment trip to Target to find every tool possible to maximize the space. Picked up some of the fuzzy huggy hangers that supposedly take up less space than plastic. A 2 drawer closet thing to put on the floor. An over-the-door shoe hanger.

Now, I hope Captain America decides not to read my blog this week, because let me tell you something. That shoe hanger is full. And so is the floor still. I have 26 pairs of shoes in my closet. Even though I've packed away everything that is for winter (including heels that are tweed and all but one pair of heeled boots). Do you remember that I have only unpacked half of the summer wardrobe? There are still shoes to be unpacked. And this does not count the, at least, five pairs of shoes I have on the mat by the door.

So how, I ask you, did I end up with the smallest closet?

Notice I did not ask why I have all the shoes in the first place. I know that one.

I have survived.

I am here to tell you, 30 can be done. I survived a whole year of it. And I'm a week into 31, and that's a piece of cake. Those five long years I spent dreading 30 weren't really worth it.

In other news, it was Easter. You're welcome.

I really enjoyed Easter this year. For lent I gave up emotional spending. Phew. That's a tough one for me. But it was good to spend some time thinking about what was a frivolous junk purchase for the sake of purchase, and what was useful. At least for me, it's hard to fill holes with the right stuff. For a long time I leaned more toward emotional eating. Then I switched to emotional spending. But at some point, you have to stand up and ask yourself what the real issue is. Which is a work in progress. For the rest of my life, probably.

On the heels of some personal discovery and a birthday (yay me!), with some sunny weather to boot, Easter was a joy. For the icing on the cake, our church did cardboard testimonies. If you don't know what I'm talking about, grab some kleenex and click here (I should note, these are from a different church). I was blessed enough to participate in all 3 services, and got to see a lot of cardboard.

All things together brought me here:

God is real and powerful. Powerful enough to defeat death. Loving enough to do it for you and me. But He is also personal. Personal enough to reach each person in a way unique to them and their needs. Personal enough to know what holes I need filled, and how to fill them so they don't gape open again.

I can grasp the thought of a great big all powerful God. I actually get that. Makes sense. But it's the personal interest that He takes in me that mystifies me. I'm not a speck on the planet, I'm a beloved child. So are you.

It's possible!!

Ok. I must confess one of my many horrible mother moments to tell this story. At the Christmas program for Sunday School, my children were the ones running up part way through the first song. Of two songs. Completely my fault. Although in my partial defense, they started a little early. Still. Way to go me. Nice.

Yesterday the girls were singing again for Palm Sunday. Ain't no way I was walking down that path again. Captain America was running sound board so he headed off to church at 7:10 a.m. like any good Captain America would do. It was all on me again.

I'd checked with the other moms on Facebook to see what time they were supposed to be there (our family missed the week before). 9:20. Or maybe that's what they told me, because they know me? I aimed to leave the house at 8:45, because I had to stop and get gas and then drive 20 minutes to Bigger Lake Wobegon.

Guess what? We actually left the house at 8:45. I put gas in the car. I drove uneventfully to church. It was like angels of promptness surrounded us yesterday morning. We parked, I hustled the girls inside, where the teachers were just turning on the lights. Only a few of them were even there. To drive the point home, I had this conversation with Ella.

E: They're all upstairs!!
Me: No, honey, they're not.
E: But where is everyone?? They're UPSTAIRS!
Me: No, no, we're early.
E: What?
Me: Early. No one else is here yet. We're here before we need to be.
E: So we're not late?
Me: No, we're early.
E: Oh, ok. Early. {to the teacher at the door} We're early today! We're the first ones!

Yes, early. Teachers and moms were patting me on the back. "Good for you, Sarah, you did it!" Yes I did! And it only took 5 1/2 years and hundreds of angels of promptness to make it happen.

My first reaction is to want to feel insulted by the response. But I've really earned it. I am chronically late. Like many a busy mom, I am forever doing "one more super quick thing" and never accounting for the time it takes to convince two children to do what I'm asking them to do without whining or hostage-like negotiations. And I truly believe these particular teachers & moms were rejoicing in my triumph with me. At one time or another, they've probably been in the same spot.

And it did feel like a triumph. I was beginning to think it was impossible for me to be on time. Like I needed to move to a country where time is more of a suggestion or a vague notion (maybe one that is also warm -- FYI, Minnesota, it's Spring). But standing there in the Sunday School hallway, I wanted to jump up and down and sing the Dora song, "We did it. We did it! We DID IT -- HOORAY!!" I didn't. Maybe a little in my head.

Some people wouldn't understand this level of fanfare for being early to one activity. But motherhood is about one step at a time. One checkmark on the to-do list. One little battle. So many are lost, I need to rejoice in what is won no matter how small.

* * * * *
I am entering this post in a writing contest on Scribbit. The deadline is April 19, so if you'd like to write something on a "mom" topic, you've got plenty of time to enter.

Hi, my name is Sarah. I'm a birthday freak.

First of all, I'm having two birthday parties for the new 4 yr old in the next two days. My house needs cleaning. I have work to do. I need to prepare my self-employed tax info for Captain America to do this weekend. I need to balance the checkbook. It's lunch time.

But no. Blogging. That'd be a GREAT use of my time right now.

Since the dawn of time, I have been a nut about my birthday. I have always thought it's a day to be celebrated. BY ALL. Even if we've never met. I don't know where this came from, but it's an illness. Too many sitcoms? Too many Babysitter's Club books? I don't know.

For as long as I can remember, I have imagined grand surprise birthday parties in the making. I mean, even when I was 9. Somebody whispers. It's about my birthday!! The house is dark. It's my party!! Captain America is hesitant about making a plan for something -- it's because he's whisking me away for the weekend!!

Peeps, let me tell you, this causes nothing good. Nothing at all. Because when I turned 21 (*ahem* TEN YEARS AGO), my friend Amy called late in the afternoon. Did Captain America and I want to come over to watch the 90210 she'd taped? Sure. So we walked the two blocks over. Headed up to her apartment. Opened the door. TO MY SURPRISE PARTY. Where I nearly had a heart attack. Because for the first time in my life, I suspected nothing. When there was actually something to be suspected. It was wonderful! People had parked blocks away so I wouldn't see their cars. The shoes were all hidden. Surprise perfection. It was the sweetest thing. Only, in my shock, I didn't display the Proper! Excitement! I'm not sure what happened. Did I look like I was assaulted or something? I don't understand. But Captain America felt like it was a downer of a response, and has vowed to never, and I mean NEVER, throw me a surprise party again.

And in real life, I know. I know that the Birthday Excitement is supposed to be for my kids now. I know this because God gave me a child born one week before me. And I want Natalie to always feel like her own birthday is special.

Perhaps I have been overzealous. I have created a new Birthday Diva. The other day she made me her list for a party. There must be balloons! And a Curious George cake! And so I knew the paper was hers, she traced her foot. Even though she'd already written her name on it. Some kind of FBI coding or something.

So yesterday I called to order the cake. Our usual spot (I heart their frosting) had nothing to create Curious George. What??? "Natalie, you'll have to pick something else. They can't do George." Her response? "If I can't have a Curious George cake, then I don't want a cake at all."

Nice.

And being the lesson-giving mama I am, I did what I had to do. I called around until I found a place that could make Curious George. It is my understanding that George will actually swing back & forth between trees.

Please don't think I've substituted my birthday obsession with trying to control hers. I'm still as sick as ever. Do they have a rehab for that?

World Autism Day

April is Autism Awareness Month, and today is World Autism Day.

For more information on Autism, click here. Why bother? You might learn something. It might change the way you interact with someone (as many as 1 in 150 people are somewhere on the spectrum). You might be surprised how little you really knew about it. While it seems to be diagnosed more and more now, I think it's just that. More diagnosed. I think many people from the past would be diagnosed Autistic by today's standards, but at the time were probably just considered eccentric.

To see why it matters to me, please read my sister's post today, about my nephew Colin.

April Fools!

Or as we like to call it, Natalie's Birthday! My baby is 4. This may require that I spend tomorrow in bed with a carton of ice cream reminiscing over her baby pictures and trying to figure out how to actually slow down the passing of time.

I remember very clearly 4 years ago today, when I had called the hospital to be induced and the nurses said "no thank you, maybe later." Which made me wonder what they'd do with me if I just went into labor. So I rehashed with my doctor, and he pretty much said don't ask tomorrow, just go, if you're sure you want to have the baby on April Fool's Day.

Do not leave it up to the enormously pregnant woman to choose the birthday. It falls in the IDon'tCareJustGetItOut category. When should the baby be born, Really Pregnant Lady? ASAP, thank you. April 1 was a Friday, it was that or wait til Monday. So because I wanted her out, she will now live the rest of her life the butt of April Fool's jokes. Love you, Nattie. Mommy was not in the right frame of mind.

Scheduling induction with my doctor was a little like scheduling getting tires changed. Let's just pick a day we're both free near the due date, April 9. Did I need to be induced that early? Probably not. I was uncomfortable -- sure -- what outrageously pregnant woman isn't? Honestly, I fought for early induction because I was absolutely petrified of going into labor and all it involves.

Oh, and my feet were swollen. Or something. And I have a vague memory of Natalie settling in on my sciatic nerve. But it's faded with time. Which is, I think, how God gets us to have more babies. Selective memory.

But thank you, sweet Jesus, that my doctor was for random inducing because little Natalie was 8 lbs. 2 oz. Another week and she would have broken me.

So I went in for inducing, I got the same room I'd had with Ella and the same nurse. I remember meeting her when I had Ella. I almost died. She's a sweet tiny YOUNG little Barbie Doll. She had no business helping me with what was about to happen and all that...stuff... But to my surprise she was Super Nurse. So very awesome. Almost worth having another baby. Don't tell Captain America.

Anyway, pitocin around 7:30 or 8 a.m., Natalie born around 12:30 p.m. Short & sweet. Then Super Nurse said they needed to move me to a C-section recovery room so somebody else could have a baby. And so Natalie and I hung out mostly by ourselves for the next couple days watching the Catholics get a new Pope. The nurses were busy with all the other mommies traipsing through, and Ella was only a month out from an overnight in the hospital for dehydration from the flu. She had NO DESIRE to set foot in the hospital. We didn't want her to feel abandoned, so Captain America stayed home with her, what with her not even being 2 and all. And Natalie and I watched for the smoke signal while I ate peanut butter toast to my heart's content.

Keeping it real, Natalie was not scheduled in for less than 2 years after Ella was born. And for TMI, it was sort of surprising what with all the fertility drugs required for Ella. But our schedule sucked. God's schedule was good. Really good. She is a treasure and a delight and oozes sweetness and a little trouble to keep us honest.

And I will spend the rest of my days apologizing to her for her April Fool's Birthday in addition to being named after a dead tormented actress and a baseball player.

Lakeshore Property, and The Economy Lives!

I live 2 blocks from a rather large lake. After a massive snow melt (although we've still got some patches even after nearly a week of temps above 32), and a week of forecasted rain perhaps I will live closer to the lake. In the meantime, I have to stay close to the sump pump today. It's running hourly.

Totally brings me back to when the cat used to shove stuff in the sump hole in the basement, and one particularly rainy week our pump died because ribbon had gotten wrapped into the motor. And I mopped up a whole lotta water with a week-old baby upstairs while my dad bought the last pump in town and got it in. Thanks, cat. Good times.

In other news, I declare the economy to be alive and well. I know this because I went to Ikea and the Mall of America on Saturday. At Ikea there were nearly 400 people in line to check out. Sincerely. Almost 20 registers open, and at least 20 people per line. Insanity. Glad we didn't promise the girls the tiny stuffed animals they liked because I would not have stood in line for an hour for them. Many tears would have been shed. People were abandoning full carts left and right.

Then we went over to the Mall of America with the munchkins. We'd had a later breakfast (Mom! The hotel has Lucky Charms! And doughnuts!), so we figured a later lunch would work. First we swung past Rainforest Café because it's the girls' favorite. Luckily we were able to get a photo op with Cha Cha the Frog, because at 12:45 or so we were told the earliest the 4 of us could eat would be 2:08. Next... We headed up to the top level for restaurants and settled on Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. with their 30 minute wait. I'll take it.

Delicious tilapia and shrimp on jasmine rice later, and we wandered through the masses. Everyone was holding numerous large shopping bags. We managed to make it out without a single purchase other than lunch. Because nothing was worth waiting in the lines to check out (that and I gave up spending on myself for lent - it took great restraint to just walk by Sephora). What luck! Saturday's characters at Nick Whatever (Camp Snoopy in my heart forever) were Dora & Diego. There was a 5 minute or less line for a photo op.

After that insanity we started to head home. Stopped at Cold Stone Creamery, but again, a very long wait. So we headed to the trusty DQ where Ella polished off a chocolate sundae in a heartbeat. And then, because we're apparently new, we expected them to crash (or at least sit somewhat calmly) for a 2 hour ride home. Have we not read the manual?

And now it is spring break. So I have two cranky children. Tired. But Ella is already reminiscing about our trip. "Mom? Remember the hotel had Lucky Charms? AND doughnuts? And remember we ate at Applebee's? I want to do it all over again!"

Lastly, thank you, Jesus, for the Wii. We WILL survive spring break.

IT'S SPRING!!!

And now I've jinxed it. But for today at least, it is Spring. Even in Minnesota. It is 51 degrees right now. Last Thursday when I took the girls to school it was -17. Welcome to Minnesota.

Captain America brought to my attention that some Southern Friends think that when you say "-17" you mean "17 degrees below freezing." I just want to make sure y'all understand (see how I'm trying to make you feel at home? Y'all?). When we say "-17" it means "negative 17 degrees." As in, below ZERO. Just as it was on March 12. That's Freeze Your Face Off cold, people.

In other news, it was an exciting weekend for me. It'll be boring to you, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

Saturday Ella and I ran some errands in Slightly Bigger Eastern Lake Wobegon while Natalie took a nap at home and Captain America worked on fantasy baseball. We dropped some things off at a thrift store. We drove around a little. Then we had ice cream at Dairy Queen. "MmmmmmmmMMMMM...Deeelishush!!" Then we went to a different SuperWal. We came home and I gave the girls baths after popping in a pan of enchiladas I made a couple weeks ago and had frozen. I felt like SuperMom.

Sunday I got up prior to the crack of the new daylight savings dawn. Had to be at church at 7:30. I got to go to Caribou inbetween practice & the contemporary services with some other music team peeps. I ate a youth-made cinnamon roll (or I inhaled it. I can keep it real.). When I was done around noon I headed home, ate a quick lunch (and, yes, another cinnamon roll. back off.). Then I loaded up the girls to take in the high school's Wizard of Oz while Captain America had the fantasy baseball draft he'd been preparing for lo these many days.

Which totally brought me back to my drama dept. days. Only I don't recall SELLING OUT THE SHOW. The girls and I were the last 3 in, and I'd venture they sent 25 or so home. Glad we made it in because the girls had started crying when I told them I didn't think we'd make it. Did I mention we were 20 minutes early? It's not like I got there at the last minute for once.

Anyhoo. I was so impressed. The kids did a great job (and made me feel old thinking of them as "kids"). And Toto? Really Dorothy's dog. Looked like Toto from the movie. The dog was like a well-trained movie dog. Even Natalie, who loses interest after an hour of a movie (even in the theater) was riveted the entire time. All 2 1/2 hrs of it. Luckily Ella had been to see it with her class on Thursday, so she knew when it was going to get loud and would tell Natalie to cover her ears.

After the movie I pushed my luck and we went to Target and McDonald's. But they were really pretty good the entire time.

Which kind of makes me want to take them on a vacation...

* sniff * {COUGH, COUGH} hack WHEEZE

I've got a horrible Spring cold. HA! That implies it might be Spring. Instead, we got another blizzard today. I'm not even exaggerating, weather.com says it's a blizzard. Underneath this new dump of snow is a nice layer of ice. Our ice melting salt is gone. Stores aren't selling it anymore. Because it's MARCH. Thank you, Minnesota.

Natalie went to preschool for a couple hours today, then they called and said when it started to snow could we please pick up our child? Sure enough, she had to be picked up about an hour early. Ella's school only went til 11:25, but it didn't matter. She was home "sick" today. She has caught my cold and was up all night coughing. Which means I was up all night with her. While Captain America and Natalie blissfully slept through it all. So I let her sleep this morning, and she looked tough for the first couple hours after she finally got up. But by afternoon she was tearing all over the house again. Occasionally stopping to cough up a lung.

This cold has beaten me down. The cough has been awful. Hack, hack, HACK, choking, CAN'T BREATHE!, hack, hack. I slept on the couch most of last week because it was the only way I could get propped up enough to sleep. So tired. From coughing? From not sleeping? Just from the cold itself? Went to the doctor Friday and she declared it a really bad cold, but not yet bronchitis. It's improved a bit since then so I've avoided antibiotics.

Captain America injured his elbow this weekend rough housing with Ella. So the shoveling was up to me today. March snow is much heavier than December's.

I'm thinking perhaps a couple of Tylenol PM and an early bedtime are in order.

Oh, March. Don't do me wrong.

It's March. Not that you'd know it looking around Minnesnowta.

Natalie needs a nap. But here's how that's going today.

"Mama? I need a warmer blanket."

"Mama? I'm too warm, I need shawts."

"Maaaaahhhm? Am I done yet?"
Me: Nope.

"MAAAAAAAAAAAHHHM... I NEED you..."
So I go in.
"Mama? Did you know that leprechauns hide gold from people? And if you catch one, you get to keep their gold! And Mama. Guess. What. Their favorite color. Is green."
Me: Ok, honey, go to sleep.

"Am I done yet?"
Me: Nope.

"Maaaaaahhm... I need you to come in here..."
Me: What's up?
"Mama, do you want me to tell you more about leprechauns?"
Me: Nope. After naptime.
"But Mama, I'm not tired."
Me: I know. Go to sleep.

Etc, etc.

Friday after the Big Snow and the Big Bus Scare, I got the most wonderful box in the mail. It was from Jessica over at Bits & Pieces. I'm lucky enough to know her in real life too. She sent me a Box of Sunshine.


How cute is this? That just made my week. A little note on Sunshine paper. And all those sunshiny yellow goodies. Wrapped in yellow tissue paper. Just because it's been so snowy & gloomy. I emailed Captain America and told him I'd be back the next day, because I needed to drive the 4 hours one way to go give that girl a hug. In real life I didn't go, but I did think about it. And if she lived 4 hours south of me instead of slightly north, you would have had to physically restrain me. Anyway, Jessica, you are a treasure -- here on the internet, and in real life too. Thank you!