the space between

no, the mrs. has indeed not forgotten how to type. although the absence was just long enough to warrant multiple attempts at signing in to blogger... most author's would apologize and give a succinct list of (perhaps worthy, likely not) excuses for such a lengthy intermission, very predictable.
not the mrs. she will, in fact, pretend that the calendar skips from October 2011 to September 2012.

except, time has a way of changing things, and things have changed. as if looking through the borrowed spectacles of a friend, the view is familiar, but distorted - if even slightly.

(not the basics.
family unit, happily intact.
the mouth's adhd still reigns (but not supreme)
the darling is still darling.
and the firstborn, well, is as handsome as he is talented smart, kind and important (sorry, wouldn't want to give him an ego, or complex of some sort...)
the four legged community doubled, while the contents within the saltwater tank remained the same for the second year in a row (and much to the surprise and relief of certain members of the family).)

new food vocabulary was added to our menu. let's just say gluten free isn't as terrifying as it seems at first, but it can be challenging, even after ten months.

multiple ambulance rides gave the mrs. a chance to meet and learn the names/faces of the local emergency responders and children's hospital staff, while the darling proved to be as darling as ever while being picked, prodded and scanned and eventually diagnosed with epilepsy. seriously, its serious but not that serious.

clear as mud. just like dealing with neurology staff.

we said goodbye (much too soon) to 'the favorite' member of our extended family. and even if it would have been 200 years from now, it would still be too soon. there is certainly a hole in many a heart, that could only be filled with the love and joy 'the favorite' could give...

the little white house was covered by the hand of the god we love as a tornado made it's mark on our neighborhood.

yes really.

lightening mercifully cleared the packed fields of the youth baseball complex across the street, minutes before the unpredicted and unexpected funnel descended upon us. occupied cars were flipped.
the neighbor lost the back roof of his home. other neighbors lost shingles and fences.
beautiful, deeply rooted trees were toppled. others were snapped or lost branches.
a branch that pierced the shell of this house was the most extensive structural damage this home received.

it is easy to joyfully deal with the mess
the slight but widespread damage
the loss of our things
knowing we could have lost much more that night at the dinner table.

our church family came together - once again - to help us achieve normalcy at a pace that would have been impossible without them. and all impossible without him.

summer came and with it brought an opportunity for the professor to be employed by our church. even just for the summer, we gained so much more than a pay check.

the firstborn has sustained the normal bumps and bruises of growing up, and now changing school districts. (do not get the mrs. going, she can stay on that soapbox forever)

summer went, celebrated by a weekend at the lake. a teaser for heaven in the opinion of the mrs. but only if there is a boat and a dock and plenty of fish waiting to be caught, but not too easily!

school has now started, routines are set.
there are hours during the week where there is only one occupant in the little white house
she hardly knows what to do in the quiet she is left with.
so
the spotify playlist is long and varied
the speakers are often turned up louder than she would ever let the professor
she sings at the top of her lungs and dances around like a whirlwind
knowing that the hand of god will protect her even if she is unaware that she needs protecting

blog for a cause

there is a cause very close to the heart of this family.

it recently became very clear to the mrs. & the professor that there was something 'going on' with the mouth. not just typical kid stuff, but internal issues that were beyond what the mrs. & the professor, as parents, were capable of guiding the mouth through on their own. so the mrs. & the professor met with doctors and got confirmation of the suspected cause.

adhd.

whew.

not the end of the world, even though at times it seems like it is.

there is light at the end of the adhd tunnel, many ways to get there, and no matter what happens our god is still good. thanks to adhd, the prayer life at the little white house has never been as strong as it is right now. eucharisteo! (google it)

so do this little family a favor and take a few minutes to learn more about adhd, this is national adhd awareness week, after all.

http://www.adhdawarenessweek.org/

thank you,
-the mrs.

something beautiful

if you look past the dishes piled up in the sink, to the window overlooking the neighbor's used truck lot house, you might think that the mrs. tried (and failed) to be creative by imitating something she saw in a disgustingly-over-priced-obviously-faked-antique(but-you-still-want-everything-in-it-for-some-reason) catalogue. a small smooth stone with the word 'share' neatly printed in black sharpie sits on the window ledge.

although many of the mrs. creative endevors are indeed failures, this was not in the category of 'creative endevor'.

more correctly labled 'divine inspiration', the rock is a reminder that the things the mrs., the professor and their offspring have been blessed with are not to bless just this one family. but to potentially bless everyone the family happens to know.

the first two years in the little white house were lovely... but solitary. aside from family, the total number of times 'company' was invited over is an embarassing total of once. once in two years.
sure. sure.
there are a miriad of reasons excuses for why no one was ever invited over. settling in. crazy work schedules. no dishwasher. kitchen remodel. be assured the list could go on. and on.

then came the rock. a simple assignment from a woman's retreat the mrs. attended. pick a rock. wait openly for your message. lable the rock. indeed a message was laid heavily on the mrs. heart. of how
she might not have alot, but what she has is amazing. on paper it is not much. the monetary value is laughable modest. but there is so much more to a life than its monetary value.

how do you price a smile?
a laugh?
what price do you put on a new friendship?
a seasoned one?

you don't. you can't. because honestly, there would never be enough money to afford these things, and even if there was, they are not things that are made with money. they are made with openness, honesty, time, love and so. much. more.

the share rock has -literally and figuratively- lived in the heart of this house for almost two years. it has witnessed this family open its hearts and home to 'company' hundreds of times -if not more- than the first two years, and rest assured, this is just the begining of something beautiful.

the making of a mother

12 years ago today, a (very) handsome (not so) little bundle of joy made the mrs. a mother. born as blue as the bunk bed he now sleeps in and in a very far away country, they have literally and figuratively 'come a long way'.

12 years ago the mrs. knew she was blessed, but not exactly how much. watching the firstborn grow from that not so tiny newborn into a funny toddler, loving preschooler, obedient child and now intelligent and hard working preteen has amazed her and caught her off guard. she is blessed beyond measure. beyond her capability of understanding.

eventually the events signaling growth will become more signifigant. his voice will change. his skin will change. the firstborn will drive. graduate high school.  the firstborn will become an adult. go to college. the firstborn will move away. miss family gatherings. the firstborn will fall in love...

the first born will live life just as he should.
 
and just as she should, the mrs. will always think of him as that (very) handsome (not so) little bundle of joy that made her a mother. a very proud mother. even if she is a little sad that he has to grow up...

summer lovin'

the mrs. happens to love summer. a lot. summer brings out the best in the people who frequent the little white house and the people in the little white house alike.

summer means late nights and abandoned alarm clocks... just because we can. summer means getting down right nasty working in the yard & proudly earning our tan lines the old fashioned way. summer means family get togethers to celebrate milestones and backyard cookouts for no reason at all. summer means neglecting the housework so we can nurture our souls. summer means the water bill doubles quadruples - thanks to the daily use of the slip'n'slide - a definite bargain for the memories we've made.

summer. made more grand because it ends.

tan lines fade. routines restored. sand & mud tracked inside transitions from a symbol of carefree days to just another task on a 'to-do' list. swimsuits & short pants replaced by hats & scarves as summer heat gives way to winter's frigid inevitability. and while winter is not loved, it is deeply appreciated. providing a much needed remedy to a season so full, the mrs. feels as worn out as her favorite pair of flipflops. and she wouldn't have it any other way.

meet the neighbors

there are plenty of movies and tv shows that deal with this subject. often times over the top neighbors make for interesting subject matter. dennis the menace. seinfeld. friends. desperate housewives. cops.

the little white house only has one neighboring house. a very old grey house. unbeknownst (hopefully) to the residents of the very old grey house, it is a favorite past time of the mrs. and the professor to stand at the kitchen window (that provides a panoramic view of the going ons at the very old grey house) and discuss the neighbors.

it was recently decided that the very old grey house would be the kind of house a screen play writer would use as inspiration. not on a daily basis, mind you, but in the last three years there have been many 'are we really seeing this' moments.

driving circles around ones house.... leaving deep ruts in the yard. standing in the front yard with a shot gun... yelling. knocking down the old shed...with your pickup truck. keeping four, non working pick up trucks in the back yard... and two working ones in the driveway. parking a *beautifully* spray painted 1985 fleetwood camper in the back yard... so your adult child has a place to entertain his lady-friend. washing your car... at midnight, in the dark.

and every day we smile and wave, exchange comments like 'nice weather we're having today' and pray to god that they're not standing at their kitchen window wondering what we're going to do next.

love at first sight

it happened when the mrs. saw a "for sale by owner" sign being tapped into the front yard of a little white house with a red front door. love. at. first. sight.

it didn't have 3+ bedrooms or a pretty kitchen and seperate laundry room, in fact it didn't have many things on the list of requirements the professor and the mrs. had given the realtor two months prior, but it was love.

it did have potential, and it did have an amazing location. it was in the right school zone and price range. it also came with a looong 'to-do' list. messy things like 'gut kitchen', 'refinish floors'. the professor and the mrs. knew it would be a work in progress for quite awhile, but they also knew it would be worth the wait.

and three years later, there is still a long 'to-do' list, though most of the original items have been happily scratched out. and wether or not the list is ever completed, life in the little white house has proved to be more wonderful than the professor and the mrs. could have ever imagined. it's not because of the little white house or the location or anything material, but rather the people living inside, living their own 'love at first sight' story.