2015...the year of the "Strong Mother"

I'm not going to apologize or rehash the past two years...I'm just going to begin again. I'm looking at a clean white page in front of me. There is nothing more refreshing than a clean white page to write on don't you think? That is probably why I have about 54 journals where I write on the first page and then stop. I digress... It is January 1, 2015. I like the number 2015 because it seems strong. I have always made numbers into characters - that is how I learned my multiplication tables; I gave them feelings. (3 is a feisty fellow and always causes trouble; 5 is a mom; 1 is a baby; 8 is a great uncle who likes to have fun wherever he goes; 9 is a grumpy grandfather who causes tension) I know I'm a little unstable. I suppose that is why I always failed my times table tests that were being timed by the clock..."I'm sorry Mrs. Lisa but I had to tell the story of how 3 and 5 met to figure out the answer." Where was I? Oh, 2015 is a strong number - it has a 5. The year of the mother but it is 15 which makes her stronger - the year of the grown up mother. That would be me maybe. This is getting deep. I just turned 39. 2 of my least favorite numbers 3 and 9. Don't roll your eyes! I'm not sad about turning 40...my whole life I have wanted to be older. I have an older sister. I always seem to have older friends (you know how older women like to make fun of their 'younger' aged friends...) So, I always wanted to be 13, 16, 21, finally 30...well now it's 40. I'm not saying I WANT to be 40 just that I'm ready for it. I'm ready to say to the world, "I have the emotional scars, the wrinkle lines, the gray hairs that won't accept Loreal 9 Light Natural Blonde." But this post isn't about me having one last year as a 30 year old. My children are respectfully 13, 11, and 6. 6 is the only good solid number in the bunch. To say the past year has been a little crazy would be an understatement. (starting a second job, having my middle child's teeth knocked out, having my husband go through a stroke and lose partial eye sight, renovating a foreclosed house that no one else wanted but I knew would be my forever dream home) I'm pumped that it's a new "white page" to not 'start over' but rather 'begin a new chapter.' In a nutshell having kids these ages means you have a lot of emotions running wild in your house. 13? He knows everything. I mean EVERYTHING. And the funny thing is even when he thinks there is a possibility that he might be wrong he is still the most confident person I know and will GO DOWN still believing he is right and everyone around him is a complete moron. An 11 year old??? Well, let's just say there is crying one minute, stare downs the next (he should really go into politics)and then every now and then a quick hug or a thought is released to give you a glimpse of what his vast mind is thinking. Can you tell I still haven't figured this child out? And then there is a 6 year old...girl...not much has changed since she was 4, honestly. Still a show stopper, center of attention, constant talker, obsessed over having a boyfriend one day when I breakdown and let her date her fellow kindergarten classmates (never), and still a little streakier. My conversations with Sister Girl when boys come to the house (which is a lot) "You are not allowed to run around in front of them naked!" She can make you crack up but usually because she has just said some absolute ridiculous off colored, inappropriate statement. That would be Sister Girl. She's a Wild One. (I have to add though...Sister Girl is in Kindergarten now and in true Callender fashion she has followed suite and somehow tricked her teacher into believing that she is a perfect little angel who never talks, never falls below the third ring of the rainbow, and would never, never step OVER the imaginary line you have drawn in the sand!) MY CHILDREN AMAZE ME...THEY MUST BE MAGICIANS! Why after two years am I sitting in front of a white page filling it up with little black letters? I have spent the past two years trying to figure out who Sarah Weeks Callender is again. The Sarah I was before a baby on my hip, a diaper bag on my shoulder, play dates filling my calendar, and hoards of girlfriends to talk on the phone with all day because we were all at home during nap time cleaning our house or catching a breath while our preschoolers watched the latest cartoon. Now I am working mom. Professional mom. I drive my three kids to school either in my business casual outfit for the day or on the rare occasion I can get my life together I have my yoga pants on to go work out. I have breakfast in the van with my cup of coffee to go because I never have time to enjoy either before running out the door and yelling at the kids to hurry up and don't forget your backpacks! I drop my 7th grader off at the door and try not to embarrass him, while threatening two younger children to not roll down their windows and yell out the van at their big brother who is already turning scarlet because his peers are actually seeing that he has a family...because none of them do you know...they all live alone and are secretly grown up and drive to school and make money on the side of being in middle school. I park my van in the front of the elementary school because that is what the parents who really care about their kids do...I actually walk (or follow) my 5th grader in and yell at him as he runs away from me that I love him and hope he has a wonderful day! I try to hold my fashion-esta kindergartener's hand as she asks me if she looks ok and scans the parking lot for paparazzi to jump out and take her picture while she imagines the sidewalk is her red carpet to the school. "Oh stop, stop mom...there is Cindy Lou Who...HELLO Cindy Lou Who...oh, oh, wait mom, there is Marco Pollo, let's walk with him....oh, mom....hurry there is Sandy...I want to walk in with her...." MERCY! My heart has beat a thousand times before we make it up the steps and I manage to tell her goodbye and send her on her way to begin her social career at school for the day. And then it's just me....I turn around and walk back to my van and it's just me. I have no kids hanging on me. I have no one crying or screaming at me. I have me. So what do I do? This is where two years ago I decided what I would do. I got a job. My old boss at the preschool I worked at didn't like me saying this on Facebook too much. I'm not saying working at preschool wasn't a job for me. It was just that...it was a job. I took my kids to preschool with me and I taught (with my whole heart and all my energy - until those little boogers sucked every ounce of it out of me) but then I picked my own preschooler up and packed up my classroom and left the building to continue on being a stay at home mom. Now I had a different kind of job. For me at least I had a career...I put my big girl panties on, interviewed multiple times and was given a budget and 'vacation days' and 'sick days' and told I had to clock in and clock out. I got a job. It was a dream job honestly. Nonprofit...check. Writing...check. Christian organization...check. A few blocks from my kids' school...check. Work with other mothers...check. Work from home when I needed to...check. I couldn't have asked for anything more if I had dreamed it up! But...instead of planning play dates at the park on a sunny day I was planning my day around what grants were due a month from now and who I needed to meet with to get their budget before my deadline. Instead of working out three days a week and taking 2 hours to leisurely go to class, walk the track with friends in order to catch up on the latest school drama, get my heart rate up for 60 minutes while trying not to get in trouble with the older women behind us because we CAN'T STOP TALKING no matter how many burpees and supermans he makes us do, then stand around the parking lot and talk about how much we have to do that day (grocery shop, clean the house, meet a friend for lunch, volunteer at school)...I now am lucky to go running with a friend for 30 minutes before the school dismissal bell rings at the end of the day. Now let me stop and be realistic for a moment...I only work three days a week in the office from 8-2. I have two days at home...I do get to go to class on occasion when the stars line up and I plan everything else in my day down to the last minute before my head hits the pillow at 11:00pm. But do I meet up with friends every week for lunch dates and leisure coffee chats? No. Do I hang out at the park and feel the sun tan my pale skin while visiting with other women? No...I went and got a second job. As if one job wasn't enough for me to juggle. But the second job completely fell into my lap. I even pushed it off a few times! And it kept coming back! So I accepted it. I make up my work schedule. I track when I work (as in "I just worked for 45 mts from the car line on my smart phone...check). I even create what I am going to do each week...and it is only 10 hours a week! I keep pinching myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. But on the other side of things I am crying because yes, now I have a total of 30 hours a week I am 'working' for someone with a responsibility that goes beyond taking care of my 3 kids and feeding my family and keeping my house clean. Now I am making a van payment, helping to remodel a new house we bought that completely needed a full makeover, and putting clothes on a constantly growing 13 and 11 year old boy while making sure my 6 year old has matching boots for her outfits! Now I have choices to make...work out and visit with friends so that I can at least maintain one or two relationships I use to have but then stay up until 10:00pm to get my 'hours' in or go home like a good employee and work at my computer while the kids are officially on someone else's watch and not socialize or shop or exercise. Choices. Priorities. Consequences. Those are three words that would describe my life now as a grown up. It's just me. In the mini-van when I drop the three peeps off. It's just me and no one else telling me what they want to do. I have to make a choice. I have to set my priorities based on what I know I have to get done that week. I have to face the consequences of each of those choices. I have to juggle the burps in the road like never before..now they aren't burps (aka: when the nurse calls from school and says little Sister isn't feeling so good today) they are more like road blocks, show stoppers, dynamite in my path that blows up everything on my adult to-do list. This white page is full now. My house is alive again. My free time is over. I should have been working instead of 'writing' but oh, it felt so good to just write about me and not the latest need for a grant! After two years to just sit down and write my thoughts...it felt so good. Happy 2015 to me. The year of the strong mother. (The Chinese people really should consult me on their calendar...doesn't that sound better than the year of the monkey?) The year to continue making my choices, to continue figuring out who I am as I near 40, to continue making priorities for our family that guarantee success and peace and love and wisdom for everyone involved. To 2015! Cheers.

Back in the saddle again

It's been awhile to say the least...but I'm back. I've got a fifth grade Casanova who has picked up a British accent this week and renamed himself Prince Edward. I have a third grader who I'm still trying to figure out as his teacher told me today, "he is the sweetest and most polite boy!". I had to bring blood to my tongues surface to keep from saying, "I'm sorry do you know who my son is?" And then there is Sister Girl...about to turn four and trying to break the world record for saying the most words in a minute without taking a breath! The words I uttered in July are echoing in my head, "I'm bored and ready to get busy with the school year routine!". What!?! Now it's mid-September and I'm ruled by the clock, color coded schedules, and work requirements. But I would be lying if I didn't say I enjoy it a little bit...just a little bit. ;) Piano, guitar, scouts, gymnastics, karate, preschool, church, my volunteer night at a wonderful ministry, homework, meal planning and that crazy dog of mine (that I almost got rid of but not quite). Yes we are slightly busy but my aren't we a well rounded family? ;) My family is slightly crazy and maybe just a little dramatic- well the females at least would make up that department- so why not start writing about it again. I will end this post with a conversation from Sister Girl: we were listening to the radio in the van and while she was listening to the songs she began, "did they just say boyfriend? You told me I can't have a boyfriend but jaden calls me his girlfriend and I say no I'm not Jaden! (a moments pause) did they just say skip? I love to skip...I skip in the parking lot a lot and you laughed at me one day when I was skipping! (slight pause) did they just say sexy? That is a bad word mommy and we shouldn't say that should we? And it went on and on until I thought my head was going to explode! Welcome to a four year old daughter I suppose? Now soccer is almost over and I'm about to drive through get pizza and finish off our Friday night before I start another day with three kids, a dog and a husband!

love advice at 7:00am!

This morning I was thankful that I had started a "relationship" with my oldest son, Eli, years ago. The kind of relationship where we can talk about things and he trusts me.

He came to me after breakfast around 7:00 this morning as Sister Girl was sitting naked at the counter playing on the ipad instead of eating, the dog was jumping up on the counter trying to eat the food that Sister Girl wasn't interested in and Ian was running around the kitchen complaining that he didn't have any blue jeans clean. I was just trying to take the first sip of my coffee and wishing I had an I.V. hooked up to myself with a caffeine drip.

"Mom, XXXXX sent me an e-mail," was all he said as he handed his I-pod touch to me with a funny look on his face. I stopped everything and shut out the chaos as I focused intently on my soon to be eleven year old son.

It read..."Eli, you can't tell anyone but will you be my boyfriend," was what the sweet girl had written. (Sweet but in my opinion too forward)

Oh my...Don't panic...Deep breaths, Sarah...Don't get too dramatic!!!

And that is when it all came flooding back into my memory. I have been having conversations with Eli for years about girls and friends and God's idea of healthy relationships. He has had many friends take on the "boyfriend or girlfriend" title but he has never fallen into that game - thankfully.

Only a few months ago did he even acknowledge out loud that this particular girl was "pretty" and when I asked if there was more to her than that he added "very nice." They have emailed back and forth since both getting the latest technology for Christmas but the extent of the messages, which he knew I read every day/week, was "hello" or "Hi." Very exciting reading let me tell you!

So when I looked down at my preteen son (wait really is he even preteen for crying out loud? He's in 4th grade!!!)and saw that he was seriously awaiting some motherly advice as to how to reply to this girl I put my game face on and replied...

"Eli, we have talked about how you are really young to have "girlfriends" so I think you should just tell her you really like her but you would rather just be good friends."

He settled on "let's just be friends." Short and sweet - I guess I couldn't have expected more from my extremely shy boy. He did come back and ask if he could tell her she was very pretty - maybe to soften the blow? But I told him that was probably not necessary.

So, I'm honored that he chose me to come to and ask how to handle the situation. I'm freaked out at how forward little girls are at the age of 10. I'm proud of my son for caring about another person's feelings and not wanting to hurt them but also knowing that moving into a "relationship" - no matter how innocent it may appear- is not really appropriate at his age.

If you are wondering...I have told Eli that the point of getting in a relationship is to truly get to know someone and then if you like them enough it will grow into a love relationship which God intended for us to have with one person. The person we would then marry and live the rest of our lives with.

Trust me, even hearing myself say these words sounds foreign because God knows Himself that I came out of my mother's womb wanting a boyfriend! And I truly believe that it led to many years of heartache and pain that I still have to deal with. So if I can teach my son a different road to take and save him the heartache than that is my plan. He will make his own choices and more than likely he will have girlfriends along the path of finding a wife but I pray and I will make a point of teaching him that relationships are serious business. Your heart is a very sacred and special thing that God has given each of us and it is to be guarded well.

But as for now maybe word will spread that Eli is not the "boyfriend" type and he can remain the friend of all...for now at least.

technology...it's making us happier right?

We live in the age of technology right? It is supposed to make life easier, make us more social, more efficient...more happy too, right?

I don't think so.

I heard a statistic on the radio, "They have found that if you have ____ number of "friends" on facebook you are more likely to be depressed." Guess...700, 1,000?

No...just 300 friends. If you have a facebook account and you aren't either of my parents than you probably have more than 300 friends - it's not that hard. And I can see why the statistic has some weight to it. They stated the reasons being that you are constantly viewing what others are doing in their lives - usually positive and wonderful things that they want everyone to know about. Very few people post horrible or boring activities (well a lot of my facebook friends seem to) but there are a ton of "my husband just bought me a dozen roses," "Date night," "I just bought a new car," "Had the best girls night out with my favorite friends." I guess reading that everyday from 300 people would make a person a little blue.

But it's not just facebook that has got me thinking. It's texting. The new form of carrying on a friendship.

Now a-days when you see someone (I mean actually see the person in real life in front of you) they will often start in with, "did you read what I posted on facebook? or if not they will start the conversation out with asking you about something you posted concerning your crazy dog or sick kid last week. But lets say you don't see the person - because honestly how many of us actually SEE any of our friends that often? Then you do what everyone in the country does...you text them.

Texting is the new way to communicate. Letter writing? I'm sorry what is that? Does anyone even buy stamps anymore? Then there is e-mailing - that is usually resorted to for "catching up" or "letting someone know what you really think about them at the moment" but for staying in touch with friends on a daily/weekly basis...it comes down to texting.

No one calls anymore. You have a thought pop in your head about someone...text them.

You got a quick question...text them.

You want to let a friend know you miss them...text them - God forbid you actually dial their number and push send to make an actual voice connection and let them HEAR that you miss them - no, you write in shorthand, "tnking abt u. Need to get 2gather soon - call me!" and push send message. And it goes back and forth a few times until a child needs you or the stop light turns green or the doctor calls you back to the room. And life continues.

I confess there have been times in my life where I had a quite moment (literally a moment) and I picked up my phone and texted multiple friends telling them I missed them, wondering how they were, reminding them we should make time to talk. Then waited excitedly for the bing of my phone to show that someone out there was taking the time to write a quick note back in agreement. What a pitiful social life.

My theory is that people will soon forget how to have conversations. We will begin to talk in shorthand and not know how to make eye contact. We will just resort to sitting around a dinner table and texting each other. It's quicker right and then everyone can say what they want without having to wait too long for anyone else to talk. Get to the point...not too many details...

It's sad. It can be lonely I humbly admit. I miss long conversations with girlfriends on the phone or more importantly sitting around a table at McDonalds and talking while the kids ran around the playground. We are growing up I guess...life is getting too busy...and besides we always have technology to stay in touch.

Pinterest Addiction

Pinterest is my new addiction. Yes, I found this idea for Valentines cards on it and for less than $1.50 I made Elizabeth's class cards (with just her and the giant heart)!

Since coming down from my high of taking statistics - well that was a low but completing it and getting an A was a high- I have found myself this semester twiddling my fingers. DON'T ROLL YOUR EYES!

Yes, I still have things to do like teach preschool, taxi cab boys around town after school, play princess with Sister Girl, be our housecleaner and cook and most importantly cheer lead my husband on while he trudges through his diseration!

But I have lost the "important" feeling I had last semester - and so I'm twiddling my fingers. I can't help it that I have my mother's genes in me. We don't know how to sit still! Seriously...

So, I have discovered Pinterest. I waited until I received my final grade in December before logging on. I knew I wouldn't have enough will power to withstand the pull of craftiness from fellow peers. I'm glad I did so.

Since entering the world of Pinterest I have spent an entire month (every night for hours on end including all day Saturdays) to paint and glue bead board onto my kitchen cabnets. See picture below...



Let me say I couldn't have done it without the help of my husband, his saw and his caulking skills. I LOVE my kitchen now!!!!

I have also made a picture frame weekly schedule, a weekly menu to hang on the wall, learned to fix my hair in new and crazy ways, baked home made crescent rolls for the first time along with other new receipes, completed preschool crafts with my 3 year olds that are adorable, among many other things!

I have a list of projects now to keep me occupied at night. From organizing my cabnets, making book holders for each child's bed, modgepoding scrapbook paper on my electric outlet covers, fixing my hair in cute little twists and braids, sewing Sister Girl the latest dress (well I would need to know how to operate my sewing maching to do that one), cook 1,000 meals, and about 500,000 preschool craft ideas I don't think I will be twiddling my fingers for a long time.

Not to say I want to fill my time reorganzing my life forever but at least until I can register for A & P sometime in the future I hope it will keep my brain busy!

Long live Pinterest!

Blessed or Victim?

Something about Wal-mart brings out the worst in sister girl and me.

I recently was at a Mothers of Preschoolers' meeting where there was a panel of married couples - seasoned ones I might add. They were giving us advice on our marriages and well everything else they felt led to tell us about.

This one woman started the show by saying, "After reading most of your questions I see a common theme here...you mothers look at yourselves as victims! Well let me tell you that you are not victims - you are BLESSED to have these children!" She went on to give some wonderful advice and charges to us moms (who were covered in grape juice, baby spit and had bags under our eyes)to buck up...get the dads more involved...and keep charging on!

I felt empowered from her speech until I went back to Wal-mart with Sister Girl today. Then my balloon popped and well I was back to being a victim!

About two or three months ago I took Elizabeth to the toy section of Wal-mart in search of a prize Barbee. The reward for successful potty training had been long anticipated. I of course made the mistake of all mistakes (and this is my third child....I'm losing it folks) - I told her "to pick out a Barbee" amongst the row of hundreds of Barbee's and hundreds of price differences. I had in mind that she would of course pick one of the few I was so cleverly pointing out to her under $10 but that isn't how Sister Girl's mind works. NO, she quickly fell in love with the most expensive doll on the aisle.

Long story short...we left Wal-mart by way of me carrying her out the store by the walk of shame - football hold - screaming "I WANT THAT DOLL!" It was the most horrific experience of my life...MY LIFE I tell you!!!!!! We still talk about that experience at Wal-mart where "you acted so terrible screaming through the store and momma was sooo mad at you!" Oh, she hasn't forgotten that day!

We have since been to Wal-mart and Kroger and Target without any fiasco's but I knew she was just saving up for me. And today was the day.

I was thinking about what a blessing my children were...all three of them...as they were in tow after school pick up. I only had to pick up some pictures - in and out - nothing to it. But then I got side tracked by the Valentine cards.

"Do you boys want to pick out some cards now?" I so sweetly asked them - MISTAKE #1.

Then after the lingering around the red heart pillows was too much for her, Sister Girl pleaded with me to get out of the buggy. She SWORE she would stay right by me and just LOOK! - MISTAKE #2.

It wasn't long before those red heart pillows got boring and she was ready to move on to bigger, redder and shinier objects in Wal-mart! And so the stand-off began.

Just imagine the next three minutes with me squatted down muttering expletives under my breath while smiling an evil "step mother/witch like smile" at the sweet little girl with the big bow tip toeing backwards away from me. With every inch I took closer to her she would get her arms up and feet ready to start a mile dash through the store.

For some reason the following threats don't work in a store...

"If you don't get back over here now I'm going to get you!"

"Young lady I will count to three and you had better walk back to me!"

"You are going to regret it if you run away from me!"

Then you start to get a little crazy (the teenage redneck girls laughing behind your back don't make the situation any better...nor does your eight year old son, oblivious to you crawling on the wal-mart floor trying to sneak up to your 3 year old daughter and catch her pant legs before she flees, who persistently asks you which valentines girls would like better!)and words come out like this...

"When I get you girl you will wish you had stayed in that cart!"

"I'm gonna take you into that bathroom and make you wish you hadn't stepped foot past those glitter heart pillows!"

All in the name of discipline and love mind you...and all knowing that I wouldn't dare lay a hand on my sweet child - in public - I JUST WANT HER BACK IN THE CART!

Well needless to say I entertained quite a few spectators and mortified her 10 year old brother. I won the stare down, lured her back to the cart where I pulled my mother's trick of taking all my frustration out through my hands with her famous "squeeze the legs (or arms or chin) maneuver" and placed a very pouty Sister Girl on my hip where I could manhandle her all the way to the photos and out the door!

So...blessed or victim? I'll have to think about that one...


Side Note:
I KNOW I am blessed beyond words - and I KNOW I'm no victim of my children - but I also KNOW that Wal-mart, Sister Girl and me don't make for a feel good parenting experience!

"Oh, to turn back time."

I grew up with them. Nate grew up with them. It's part of being American for crying out loud. We held out as long as we could. The silent thought between both of us was, "our kids are too much work as it is!" Then Elizabeth turned three and the boys kept begging. So we gave in...oh, if I could turn back time!


I put out feelers and got more advice on "finding the right dog" than I cared for. Asking dog lovers for opinions on their furry friends is like asking Democrats and Republicans why their side is better for America.

In true Sarah fashion I jumped at the first free puppy I could find that of course reminded me of my favorite delicacy - chocolate. A friend of a friend...only three hours drive...and the puppy was said to be the 'calmest of the bunch.' Oh, if I could turn back time!

I would compare getting a puppy with birthing a toddler at the terrible twos, so you fall in love at first sight(when they are all shy and reserved) and then 24 hours later their little personalities come right out (as they feel so welcome in your quiet and orderly home)and you begin to think twice about the whole situation.

Now I KNOW we are in the puppy stages! I KNOW! I KNOW! I KNOW! But.....



I never expected our puppy to be a flesh eating piranha. I never expected our puppy to attack my children and rip their pants apart instead of chase the ball being thrown. I never expected our puppy to get some weird parasite (CALLED THE MANGE) and chew all of her hair off!

But...we live and learn...well, rather we cave in to our children's pleadings and empty promises (I PROMISE I will clean up the dog's poop mom! And I PROMISE to play with the puppy everyday without being asked mom!) and then we learn (when people look at you with a twitch in their eye and say with gritted teeth, "Of course a dog is something you have to do for your children at some point...you will love it..." we should pick up on those nonverbal cues better).




Yes, Bella (that is the attack dog's name) has her super sweet moments - usually when no small children are present. Yes, my chocolate lab/Aussie mix has great potential (for a shark impressionist). And yes, my fuzzy, long eared, no tail canine can fetch a ball and then quickly turn on you to fetch your pants, rip them off at the cuff and run away leaving you naked before you can say "heel".



Though it was the boys who begged and pleaded for a dog it is Sister Girl who has taken to her the most. I think the small, fuzzy, ball of cuteness had something to do with it at first - or the fact that someone in the house was now smaller than her and she could boss (or so you thought) it around. Of course within a matter of weeks the puppy is now able to stand up and hug Elizabeth around the neck (then knock her off her feet and try to chew her face off). This doesn't phase my tough girl one bit - after letting out some screams of terror she quickly scolds Bella and tries again to force a tutu around the puppy's head.

The boys too are coming around. Eli is getting quicker at running up the slide out of reach of Bella's fangs but also getting bolder at saying 'no' at a more audible command than before. Ian has taken to teaching her to sit and stay for treats (and I wondered why our puppy was growing at an astronomical rate).

We did break down and spend a preschool's day wages on the dog whisperer to come to our house (we were at a low point)so she could show us how to be the Alpha Male - too bad Nate and I are competing for this position so as not to be eaten on a daily basis. But the bell on the back door has worked (Bella rings this to let us know she needs to go out and relieve herself) and well...yeah, that bell works real well. Oh, to turn back time.




I'm sure I will have many adventures with Bella now as she has somehow made her way into our hearts and become our 4th child (yes, waking us up at the crack of dawn and begging to be played with; making us schedule our activities to come home and relieve her from her kennel; and begging friends and neighbors to 'babysit' her when we go out of town for the day).

At least I can say I am now giving my children a complete American childhood, right? Oh, to turn back time...