A Legacy of Love

A couple of weeks ago I was driving when my car shifted strangely.  I reached for my phone to call my dad like I have so many times before.  It wasn't until I grabbed my phone that it hit me--I will never speak to my dad again.  I drove for miles with tears streaming down my face.  Loss is hard.  Loss hurts so much and the pain of loss will always be there in some corner of my heart.  At times, that corner feels like half my heart.  And that's okay, because what I lost was so precious.  I lost a great listener. I lost a comforter.  I lost a protector.  I lost a problem-solver.  I lost my son's big buddy.  I lost a Godly example.  What I have left, however, is a legacy, full of memories of a humble, gentle, strong, compassionate, caring man that put so much of himself and his time into everyone he met, and especially his family.

I was not an easy child to raise.  I was the "strong-willed child" for which books are written to help parents.  Yes, my parents bought the book (but I'm not sure if they ever read it--they were a little distracted by three kiddos).  I remember being disciplined by my dad when I chose to exert my strong will.  I always thought I was so clever when my dad would send us to choose the belt for a spanking and I would choose the skinny one.  I mean, smaller hurts less, right?  I would put on extra pairs of underwear and would occasionally stuff a small pillow down the back of my pants to protect my soon-to-be-swatted bottom.  I always thought it so amazing that my dad would miss my bottom and the belt would land somewhere else.  But the part I remember most, even as I grew older and the punishment turned to being sent to my room or grounded, that when the punishment was over or the sentence given, my dad would calmly sit me down, make sure I knew why I was being punished, and then let me know he loved me.  

Love.  That was something I could always count on my dad to give.  If anything, my dad was consistent and he consistently and constantly loved.  My dad would not only tell us he loved us, but would show it.  He would come home from work at the end of the day tired, but I remember evenings and nights filled with playing outside with my dad. He would read to us every night, instilling a love of books into us...well, his girls at least.  He drove the oldest car, often without luxuries such as air conditioning, so that we could have the nicer cars.  I remember him sitting with me in the middle of the night when I had ear infections, or holding my hair while I lost my lunch only to clean it all up after I was done.  He did this not only for his kids who were sick because he loved them, but also for my mom so she wouldn't always have to be the one to care for a sick child.  

When my dad was first diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, I knew his chances of living more than five years were slim to non-existent.  But I prayed and believed he would be cured.  And he was for a few months before it came back and spread through his body.  He fought hard, but we knew his time was coming to an end.  

I will never forget the day we lost my dad.  My siblings and I had planned to throw my parents an anniversary celebration on January 31 for their 40th anniversary the next day, February 1.  Travis, the kids, and I drove into town that morning and we were dropping the kids off at my in-law's house when my sister called.  She was rather distraught and could only get out, "You need to come.  The EMS is here to get Dad."  Travis and I raced, rather unsafely, to my parents' house.  The sight that greeted me as we turned onto the street literally took my breath away and started the tears running.  

Ambulances, fire trucks, and first-responders filled the cul-de-sac in front of their home to where we had to park several houses away and walk up the hill to reach the house.  When we walked in, my aunts and uncles were in the living room.  No one was talking much.  My sister was in the hallway and we just hugged and cried.  We waited at the bottom of the stairs until my mom called us up to where she and a paramedic were standing in the hallway upstairs.  We were told my dad was gone.  

Grief is powerful.  I had never felt to the fullest extent what it meant when someone, myself included, would say, "My heart is heavy with grief."  I physically felt as if my insides were being pulled down to the deepest places of my body.  For several days, much of me was stunned.  But something stronger began to take root in grow in my heart, lifting it back to where it belonged.  As the day went on and the visitors came, we talked about how freeing death was for my dad, how he is no longer in pain, how as much as he loved us he would not now choose to come back. 

We could only imagine what it was like for him to close his eyes on this earth only to open them in heaven.  To be in awe of what he beheld.  To meet Jesus.  To hear, "Well done thou good and faithful servant."  God did not callously take my dad away and leave us alone.  God was, and is, with us every moment.  And He loves and cares for us.  

We knew what kind of man my dad was, but I don't think we truly understood how many people this quiet man impacted until the night of his viewing.  The viewing was to be only an hour and a half, but the line was so long that we were there almost four hours.  I met people that my dad worked with over thirty years ago to people my dad worked with until the cancer forced him to retire early.  I spoke with people who knew my dad for several decades to those who knew him only a short time.  They all described the man we knew.  His kindness and love and compassion for others extended beyond his family and was deeply felt by all.  His co-workers probably made up a third of the line, many deeply felt the loss of my father.  We also were told many times of how my dad would tell others of his loving Lord, even the nurses caring for him.  

I am so thankful for God blessing me with the father He gave me.  Many people say children are a blessing from the Lord, but often times, I believe we the children are the ones who are blessed with the gift of loving and godly parents.

My parents were not able to share the day of their 4oth anniversary together, but the love they shared was evident to everyone who met them.  On February 1, we celebrated their anniversary without my dad's presence.  It was bittersweet, but it was a celebration of love.

I had mentioned to my sister about having my parents' wedding cake recreated for the anniversary party we were going to have.  She did an amazing job finding the picture and having the cake recreated as well as planning a party that was never to be.  We feasted on cake and reminisced about about the husband, father, and grandfather we loved.  

Love.  That seemed to be the theme of my dad's life.  Not how much love he could get, but how much he could give.  With Easter having just passed, we are reminded of the greatest act of love ever bestowed. God sent His Son to this earth to willingly suffer and die for us so that we could one day spend eternity with Him.  Christ rose from the dead.  Death has lost its sting and Christ has won the victory.  For those who have believed that Christ died for them and rose from the dead, death will never separate us from the love of God.

For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:35-39)

Photo Credit: Galleryhip.com

I never was able to to officially tell my dad goodbye.  And that's okay, because in reality, it really is, "See ya later."  I will see my dad again one day in heaven.  I pray I will pass on to my children the love my dad gave to me and my siblings, and exemplify Christ the way my dad did through his actions.   

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails...

(I Cor 13:4-8a)

Photo Credit: Phil Hyman Photography

Window Mirror

At our previous house, I didn't have a fireplace.  Sad, but true.  Now that I have one again, I needed something to put above the mantle.  I had been thinking about getting a distressed window for a project and decided this would be a good use.

A couple of years ago, I had made a picture frame into a mirror for my daughter's room.  I used Krylon's Looking Glass Mirror paint for that project and loved it so much I wanted to use it for this window project as well.

I found a window at a local store.  Since I am new to the area, I haven't found all the good places to shop for my resources so I paid a little more for this window than I wanted.  Still, it was only $20, so nothing to break the budget.

It needed a lot of elbow work.  One of the panes had been broken out, but there were still some broken pieces of glass in there.  All around the edge of one side there was some glue that had apparently been used at one time to glue the window closed.  I scraped all of that off and scraped the paint splatters and such off the windows to give a clean surface.  I then cleaned the whole window, especially the parts with the spider webs and their spiders--yuck.

I had originally hoped there would be some great colors underneath the purple-blue paint on the window, so I grabbed my sander.  Unfortunately, nothing good.  I then used a wire brush to scrape off any loose paint.  Once everything was cleaned up, the process was pretty quick from there.

Since this window would be for indoor decorative purposes, I bought some graphite colored craft paint.  I already had the gold paint from some previous projects--I love this paint from Martha Stewart!

First, I took off the hardware on the window and cleaned that up.  The hardware will be perfect to hang a wreath on the window, which is what I will eventually do once I have my Fall wreath made.

Next, I took my mirror spray and painted the back side of the windows following the directions on the can.  I decided not to replace the glass in the empty pane.  I think it gives the window a little older look.  After that dried, I painted three coats of the graphite paint on the front.  The first coat was a little hard because I did not check to see if the paint was an oil-based paint, which it was.  I really should have primed the frame first, but since this window is for decorative purposes I shouldn't have a problem with the paint staying put.

After the graphite paint was dry, I took my gold paint and rubbed it on the window using a paper towel.  I love how the older paint underneath created texture for the gold paint to grab.

After all the paint paint had dried, I flipped the mirror over and screwed two eyelet hooks into the back, one on each side.  I then threaded and attached the picture wire onto the hooks.  I made sure to measure where I needed the wire so the picture hanger would not be visible once the mirror was up. 

I wanted the mirror to look as if it were just sitting on the mantle and leaning against the wall, but I needed it to be secured to the wall so that little kiddos couldn't knock it down and get hurt.  I measured from the bottom of the window to the top of the wire that I pulled up tightly (as if it were hanging).  I then placed the picture hanger approximately a half inch below that measurement on the wall.  The picture still leans against the wall, but will not fall forward, especially once I put a wreath up there.

I love how the window mirror turned out!  It adds so much height to my fireplace wall and will be such a great backdrop for whatever I place on the mantle, which I'm still trying to decide...

Through the Valley

It has been awhile since I last posted.  There has been so much going on, mostly stressful, so finding time to update has been difficult.  We moved to a new home in June (yay!).  However, we should have moved end of May.  I can't even use the words my realtor chose to describe the situation, but suffice it to say he said it was the worst closing he's seen in twenty years and, unfortunately, completely out of our control.  Not exactly an achievement I wanted.  But that's another (long) story for another day.

Right before that, we found out some other news.  My dad celebrated his 64th birthday in March.  His birthday was also the day he was told his cancer had returned.  Even now, I cannot begin to describe the burst of emotions when my mom told me the news.  He officially has stage 4 pancreatic cancer; this time the cancer had spread to his liver.  It wasn't so much that the cancer had returned.  The hardest part was the doctors essentially telling him to enjoy his remaining time here on earth.

I'm not going to lie.  After the initial shock had warn off and the heartache had set in, my next reaction was one of anger.  Not so much outright anger at God, but anger at the situation.  I mean, aren't there worse people in the world who deserve this cancer?  Why should they be able to live when their actions cause others so much misery?  Why MY dad?  Then it hit me.  Why NOT my dad?  Why not my family?  If maybe by my dad having cancer someone else was being spared so that they too could come to know the Lord that I love.  That also hit home.  Even though I was angry at the situation, wasn't the "situation" placed there by God?  Ouch.  How easily I forget the goodness of God.

Photo Credit: Pinterest

If the last few years of my life have taught me anything about trials, it is that God is good.  Over the last few months in church, my pastor has been preaching a series of messages that seem as if they were written for me.  One of them, a series on Psalm 23, spoke especially to my heart.  There are so many aspects of this psalm that I would love to share, but you can listen to the series here.  I have read this psalm many times and heard many messaged preached on it over the years.  After this series by my pastor, I will never be able to read Psalm 23 the same way again.

Photo credit: Pinterest

Verse four is the one that really grabbed my attention.  "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me."  

I never paid much attention to the word "through" before.  When we walk in the valleys of life, the verse states that we walk through them, we don't dwell in them.  The valley is not a cave or dead-end with no exit.  Wow, what an encouragement!  

I cannot say that I have complete peace about my dad's prognosis, but that peace is growing the more I learn to trust in God.  It saddens me that without a miracle my dad will not be here much longer, but the part that hurts the most is my kids growing up not knowing their grandpa.  Owen may have a few memories, but I don't feel Addyson is old enough to have created those memories with her grandpa.

There are a lot of thoughts that run through my head and I still occasionally find myself crying at random times.  One of the hardest things I have had to do since finding out my dad's prognosis was trying to pick out what might be the last Father's Day card I ever give to my dad.  How do you sum up everything you think and feel for someone over the span of your life and put it into a card?  I found myself crying in the middle of the card aisle in the grocery store while my two kids looked at me like I was nuts.

I sometimes feel so selfish thinking at times more about how it affects me than how this cancer affects my dad.  My dad has been amazing through it all and praises God still.  The Lord has been gracious enough to allow my dad to feel fairly well through the process this time.  He had another round of chemo, which unfortunately did nothing.  He just recently had a procedure done to hopefully slow the growth of the tumor.

We were able to go to the beach with my family in June.  My dad says it was one of the best vacations he's ever had.  If you see the picture below, you can see probably why.  Every single one of those grandkids has their grandpa wrapped around their little fingers--and he wouldn't have it any other way.  And each one of those grandkids is a reminder of how good God is and how God has us in the palm of His loving hand.

Grandpa, Oma, and the grandkids
Photo credit: Kelley Collins

Chocolate Easter Bunny in a Jar Gift

I was in Target's dollar section and saw a pair of really cute jars.  I just had to buy them, but had no idea what I was going to do with them.  Before I left the store, I had to think of something to do with them so the hubby would not think my purchase a waste of money.  I love to purchase items from the dollar section...maybe a little too often.

They looked perfect for a gift in a jar and I still needed teacher presents for Easter.  Bada boom bada bing!  I had a reason to buy them!

I remembered seeing in the past somewhere a bunny in a jar, but I did not really remember exactly what was in the jar.  However, I knew I wanted to put in something edible, so I started there.  

I came up with a cutesy saying while I was in target, so I purchased my items from what I was going to put on the gift tag.  

After washing the jars, I started with some edible grass and added some Cadbury Mini Eggs.  If you have not had the Mini Eggs yet, stop what you're doing and go buy a bag now!  Of course, you may have trouble putting the bag down once you start snacking.  I then added a Lindt chocolate bunny, because who doesn't love those?!

I tied it all up with the gift tag.  I ended up making one for the neighbors as well.  I would love to say that my son is excited to give the gifts to his teachers, but that is not quite true...he wants to keep them all for himself.  So l guess they do look good enough to eat.

Digital Detox Challenge: A Week Without Social Media

Lately, I had started noticing that whenever I had a free moment, I would automatically reach for my phone to check all my social media apps.  I would scroll down my Facebook news feed, post or look at other pictures on Instagram, pin or repin on Pinterest, and scroll down my Twitter feed.  I decided it was time to go on a digital hiatus.  It was not until I began this week-long journey that I realized just how much I was addicted to my social media and how much I was on it.  I learned several things from my "digital detox," as my husband put it.

The first day, I literally was tight in my chest for the first few hours from not being able to grab my phone or computer to see what was going on in the world.  I laughed at myself outwardly, but inside, I was anxious.  That was my first wake-up call.  

Something else I noticed was how much more time I had to spend with my kids this past week. Since I work from home most days, one-on-one time with my kids is always a struggle to fit in so that they feel noticed and loved; but I noticed just how much time I allowed my digital life to interfere with my one-on-one time with my kids.  I noticed too that when I thought I had a free moment to grab my phone, it was not always free.  I sometimes created that "free" time so I could check my phone.  Therein lied one of my biggest challenges of reprogramming myself.

My kids also seemed to pick up on the "new" mom vibe in the house.  They were happier, had fewer outbursts, and were more calm.  It was not a drastic change by any means, but it was a change nonetheless that had me feeling grieved for the time missed with my kids.  The fact that my kids previously felt the need to act out more so they could gain my attention caused me some much-deserved pain. 

If you had asked me on the first day how my week was going to go, you would have received a very negative answer.  Looking back now I see that I remained more calm in my day-to-day activities than I normally would have.  With house hunting, school schedules, allergies, work, and trying to sell a house, I would by no means say that I was not stressed during the week at times.  However, I found that as those times came, I had one fewer distraction so that I felt a little more calm than I normally would.  

Of course, all week my phone kept pushing those notifications in my face, but I would just clear them out without reading them.  I did not cheat once.  Really.  Trust me, there were many times when I wanted to share my little bit of the world or see what was going on in other people's lives.  Like when we were out house hunting and Addy just started throwing up macaroni and cheese everywhere (by the way, you can wash five times and still not get the smell out of your hands...or your hair...or your daughter's hair, arms, legs, hands..).  We had to strip her down to her diaper on the side of a road by a busy intersection while trying to clean her and the car with baby wipes, and then take a thirty minute ride home with the windows rolled up because it was cold outside while trying to keep two others from also losing their lunch.  Or share with the world how amazing my husband is and how fortunate we all are to spend another of his birthdays together.  Or to follow what's going on in my city. There is a corruption scandal with my city's mayor.  Of course his neighborhood had to be close to mine so that when I hear nothing but helicopters all afternoon flying over my house, the first thing I want to do is look at Twitter and Facebook to see what's going on...but I could not.

By the end of the week, when I had a free moment, I did not reach for my phone.  I looked around me to see what I could do, who I could play with, or just relaxed.  I think a digital detox week is something everyone should do once in a while, and something I will certainly do again.  It is a great way to ground me back into the real world, the world that is seen in front of my face and not through a phone screen.  Will I use social media again?  Yes.  This time, however, it won't use me.  

Going it Alone

After having my husband gone for eleven days for a mission trip to Mexico, I have a much greater appreciation for single parents, whether permanently or temporarily so.  I also have a better understanding of just how much emotionally I depend on my husband for support when it comes to raising our children.  

When Travis first told me he wanted to go on this mission trip, I was all for it.  However, after thinking about it--me...alone with two kids...for over a week--yeah, I got a little nervous; but hey, I've done it for a few days before so no problem!  I've got this!  That thought lasted for only the first couple of days...

Travis left on a Saturday before the kids woke up.  I was thankful that Owen had a birthday party to attend for a school friend and Addyson had kindly been invited as well.  I figured this would take the kids' minds off of missing their daddy.

I spent a couple of hours chasing kids, trying to keep them relatively clean and out of trouble.  They had a blast and came home with some great works of art.

*Apparently, painting your hand is part of the process*

We made it through the first day without the kids melting because daddy was gone.  They asked a few times that first day where he was.  I only had to tell them a few times that he was in Mexico, which is very far away, before they remembered.  Addy then liked to share her daddy's location with random strangers, telling them in a store as they walked by, "My daddy's in Messico!"  We had to nip that in the bud pretty quickly.

By day three it was getting a little harder to do this parenting thing by myself as the kids were using it to their advantage.  They both fought me more on things like getting ready, getting in the car, going to bed, etc.  I found bribery worked best during this time.  The kids earned a lot more treats and television time that week and a half than they have in a long time.

I think the mornings were the times I missed Travis the most, as far as needing help.  He always gets a shower before I wake up and then goes downstairs to start the coffee brewing.  While I'm getting ready, he makes the kids' breakfast, makes Owen's lunch and packs his bag, and watches the kids.  When Travis was gone, I had to wake up earlier so that the kids would not be left to run around the house by themselves.  Travis also takes Owen to school in the morning so that Addy and I are not in the car half the day.  Mornings were rough, to say the least.

We still managed to squeeze in some fun while daddy was gone and keep to our schedules--Owen still had school and I still had to work my job and do some of Travis' job.  Addy and I went on a couple of donut and coffee dates while Owen was in school, and we all went to the airport for a couple of hours to watch the planes take off and land.

*Donuts!*

*At the airport watching the planes*

*Love this kid!*

Bedtime was interesting, too.  The kiddos had some sweet moments, like when Owen wanted to read Addy her bedtime story, and some, uh, "challenging" moments, like when Owen locked us in Addy's room at bedtime.  We have the doorknob turned around on Addy's door to lock it from the outside instead of using child-lock devices.  Owen turned the lock on the door and then closed it after we were inside the room. 

When he first told me we were locked in, I just laughed.  I didn't think he was serious.  When he reassured me he was not kidding was when I started trying to channel my inner McGyver to get us out of the room.  Being a toddler's room, there was nothing sharp or pointy to use.  The only thing I had on me was my phone, which I seriously considered calling a locksmith to pick the lock on the front door so he could come upstairs to let us out of a room instead of get us into somewhere.

I ended up bending the lampshade to pick the lock on the door.  I worked for over forty-five minutes to get us out of that room.  Meanwhile, both kids were just playing with toys, completely oblivious to the fact that we could all be sleeping in the same bed that night and they would be wearing Addy's diapers until we could get out.  I even contemplated jumping out the window to get in the house through the front door, but I still would have to get through a locked door.  It was starting to get a little crazy in my head there for a bit.  Luckily, my lampshade break-out worked!

Travis was supposed to come back on Monday, but due to bad weather through a connecting flight, their flight was cancelled.  They couldn't get back until the next day.  Of course.  However, we all made it alive and mostly unscathed. 

Did I mention that a few days before Travis left we put our house on the market?  And I decided to potty train Addy while Travis was away.  Yeah, I'm crazy.  Thankfully, my parents were able to come for a few days to help me out.  While they were here, we had six showings on the house.  It is hard enough to keep a house clean on a normal day, but to keep one clean, ready to show...phew!  

After my parents left, we had two more showings.  Owen is actually pretty excited to move somewhere new.  He often will see a house when we're driving somewhere and will ask if we can buy it, whether it's for sale or not.  He is four now and this next house will be his fifth house to live in since he was born.  I am done with this moving thing.  We plan to stay put for a long time at the next house.  Hopefully.

I had some wonderful friends who thought of us while Travis was away.  At the beginning of the week a sweet friend sent me a gift card for Starbucks.  Coffee was a must that week and the gesture was such a lift to my spirits and an encouragement.  Another friend met me for coffee one morning after I dropped Owen off at school.  Another friend dropped off dinner one night before Travis came home.  I was having a rough day, and without knowing how rough, she brought food so that I didn't have to cook that night.  

Owen did develop some separation anxiety while Travis was gone.  He had a harder time being dropped off at school or church, struggled in school a bit that week with paying attention and obeying, and started coming to my room in the middle of the night to crawl in bed with me.  He is still coming to our room almost every night now, but other than that he is pretty much getting over his separation anxiety. 

While those eleven days were not easy, and actually extremely difficult at times, God knew what I would need that week of going it alone with the kids.  He sent friends, parents, and words and actions of encouragement and support.  Of course, I realize now I was never alone.  

*Proof-of-life picture we sent to daddy.
Just a typical drive on our way to school*

*Little girl spent a lot of time in the car this week.
She actually fell asleep one day--she hasn't done this
since she was a baby*

Snowflakes and Valentines

I can hardly believe just a week ago everything here was covered in snow.  Here in the South, we do not see much snow, so when we had about nine inches of it we were snowed in--and the kids loved it!  Owen has seen snow before, but not to this extent.  Addyson has not really seen a good snow and had never played in it before.  They would have lived outside if I had let them.

The snow was a time of several firsts. Owen built his first snowman and named her Snowball. Both Owen and Addyson made their first snow angels and went sledding for the first time.  Addyson walked in the snow for the first time. Owen and I had our first snowball fight.  Addy was hit in the face with a snowball by daddy.  Both saw snow more than two inches deep for the first time.

We were not prepared in the least as far as snow toys go.  My husband went looking at several stores for sleds or anything that could be used as one.  Everyone was sold out.  Instead, we improvised by getting a lid from a storage bin, putting a trash bag around it, and attaching a strap.  I wish you could have heard the squeals of delight and seen the smiles on their faces.  I admit I was just slightly jealous since I was a little too big for the "sled."

Due to the snow, Owen missed three days of school.  In class those days the kids were going to work on Valentine's Day crafts and such during the week and then have the class Valentine's Day party on Friday, so I was a little disappointed for him.  He, however, probably would have chosen to play in the snow anyway if given a choice, so he was happy.  

On day two, we all were starting to get cabin fever a bit.  We took a drive to get out of the house for a little bit.  It was beautiful and abnormally quiet.  I love how the snow makes everything look so clean and softened, before the snow plows come through that is.  There is also a beautiful calm when you walk outside.  Everything was muffled and peaceful, especially since most people did not venture out during the peak of the snow.

By day three, I was over the beauty of the snow and ready for it to be gone.  I love my children, but it is tough on everyone's nerves to be cooped up in a house for almost a week with nowhere to go and the weather not pleasant enough to be outside for long.  This is one of the many times I am thankful I live in the South.  The snow comes quickly, but thankfully also leaves quickly.

By Monday I was definitely ready for school to start back, but school was out for President's Day.  So when Tuesday rolled around, I was beyond thrilled.  Thankfully, Owen was excited to go back to school by then.  His class had their Valentine's party, so I went to that to help a little and to watch.  I completely forgot to take pictures until it was almost over.  He loved giving out his valentines and eating all the goodies at the party.  However, he wanted to go home about as soon as I arrived.  I think he partially missed all the time he had been able to spend with Mommy and Daddy.  When we did leave, he was so proud to carry out all of his valentines, until he slipped on some ice and they flew everywhere.

Now that a week has passed, I already have those moments when I wish I could keep him at home for the day.  I often look back and realize just how much time flies and how precious and treasured each and every moment is with my kids.  Sure, there are days I can hardly wait for bedtime, but more often I can hardly wait for them to wake up in the morning so I can talk to them, play with them, laugh with them, just spend time with them.  Three years ago, just a couple of weeks before Valentine's Day, I found out I was pregnant with my second (and last) child.  That valentine gift made our little family complete.  As Valentine's Day comes and goes, I count myself loved, fortunate, and blessed indeed.