Wow, look at my sweet chillun

Nuts and bolts Momma got screwed!

I chant this wildly because yet again my offspring has chosen their father to represent their first word. I birth them with many hours of pain, raise them from the sweat off my brow...second place. Well Ava I'll take second place, but know this, when you want namebrand jeans for your 12th birthday, your getting JCPenny's sale rack delights, when your friends want to come over, they can only hang with you outside of our front door, because this mom will not be second!

Kidding folks, this is quite a mile stone, she is trying to pull herself up, scoots everywhere talks back, grunts and hollers when she wants something, like the keyboard for instance. I had to go put her down on the account of that mess.

A few good nuts

A mother's grievance! So my Gabers left me for 10 whole sleeps (that's how he counts days) I'm a mess! I wept at the movie theater when Gabe and I went out for his birthday to watch the Chronicles of Narnia. I've been keeping myself real busy by repainting the house and making gifts for the fam for the Christmas festivities fast approaching. Busy busy busy this is how I opress the emotions of missing my buddy. I'm tearing up I better sign off...

First bike, first fall

Gabe rode his first bike, care of Grandma Jan and Grandpa Dennis; it was a birthday to remember. He was very concerned that his bike might not have four wheels like the other 5 year olds, but he was reassured that his bike met his expectations when he saw the thing assembled and ready to roll. He took off a bit hesitant but got a feel for his new wheels after awhile. He conquered the hill on our neighbors drive way and also had his first spill, due to the turn of handel bars in the wicked turn of our cul-d-sac (refer to the photos). He survived and he wept, but he picked his bike back up and off he went. Emotionally scared I'm sure.

All of his excitement was delivered in a box. As for the rest of his birthday presents he could barely sleep for the next few days after his birthday party. He was swarmed with GI Joes, weapons, spiderman paraphanelia, and playdough. The kid has it all. When his good friend Azariah came over, there was no sharing to be had!

I can remember my first time on a bike without my training wheels. We lived in a brown house on the very busy 13th street. I climbed up on an antique wooden crate that was in the garage. Someone (I presume a parent or sibling) helped push me off to be on my independent way. I was scared of all the balancing that was required, I'm not much of a dare devil, so whoever was helping me grew weary and walked away to leave me to my own slow learning. I had to calm those voices in my head, screaming "look out for the car 15 feet away," "watch out for the curb 4 feet away!" "Don't let the tire hit that pebble, you'll go down hard and fast!" Frankly,I got tired of being a weeny and began pushing myself off the crate. I eventually got the hang of it and peddled down the block. I even remeber a cop car rolling by and I was thinking, " I wonder if he would save me if I rolled into the street?" Anywho, I was five, and I remember the shear terror of the idea of falling, I took a few spills , but I still had all my limbs when I turned 6.

Gabe and I think similarily,so I can safely assume that his mind was terrorizing him as he peddled his way around the block. Our big boy was a success and will be writing about this 20 years from now.

He's 5!

Mom's new version of pin the tail on the donkey, except there's no donkey , tail,or pin. Get a balloon, draw a picture of the special birthday boy and blind fold chilren and pop the head...cruel and unusual yt oh so fun!
His birthday was a hit with the crowd.

No comments, No Christmas Cards

People within my kin and friendship network, if you are reading this blog and not responding to them, then I don't know that you're reading them + you're not e-mailing me because the blog page is updating you on our lives (that was and is the purpose of it all), which in turnmaeks me feel like you're ignoring me because you're not doing your part.
Then no Christmas card for you, no well wishes, no tidings of joy, no bannanna bread in the mail, and certainly there will be no visits during our travels. Let my warnings be heard;
your Christmas is on the line.
Leave your comments. Thank you very much foryour time and typing.
All in tough love,
LaShay

Serenity NOW

Thanks to my artist friend Joel I can experience serenity any time of day.
So LaShay is in one terrible mood, so much so, that she has decided to speak of herself in the third person (people it's a defense mechanism).
Forgiveness is easy when a) you like the people wronging you.
b) you can relate to their position , you just don't agree with it.
and
c) a common good happened due to the wronging, meaning at least everybody wins in the end.

But when you don't like the person, their ways are always an enigma because they are inept and self serving 8 out of 10 times, and they allow the bad guy to win, I don't want to forgive at ALL. My stubborn head keeps justifying my position, and my heart keeps on harping on the whole issue, simply because it's unresolved. I certainly become the loser in the end because now my weekend is restless and I still am mad.
Serenity now!
Being mad hasn't solved the problem, talking about it never helps, because it still leaves the person inept and selfish. There is only one thing left to do, forgive them and mean it. The forgiveness part is easy, the meaning it part is the hardest. Every time I forgive someone who really makes me mad, I sincerely forgive them, but Satan and his sneaky minions bring my mind to the fault over and over again. It takes a while to mean it, but when I say it out loud I forgive them,... Eventually I mean it.
Here it goes... Selfish, inept person that I don't like and who wronged me... I forgive you. I'll let Jesus deal with you, because He looks out for me and nothing I could do will ever get me even, so here's my fire, I forgive you. I do, so keep wronging me, and keep doing what you're doing, because I'll just forgive you again and tell Jesus about you, and eventually I'll pray for you so much you'll lose sleep. And the truth is, I've already done that a half dozen times. Know that when you lose sleep it's because I'm praying for you. I don't pray about getting even but rather that your eyes would be open to the sin and the emptiness that you have created for yourself. My prayers are affective. I forgive you. I forgive you!

A writer's block

It is quite obvious what and who the inspiration for my thoughts are, but I am quite determined to become more than a mother with a few witty thoughts. Here are my near future goals ( I just was at a seminar discussing goals, it got me thinking). I'm already a teacher, I teach grammar and reading skills, so I've accomplished that; CHECK! Wife; Check. I'm a mother, CHECK. Now for the rest of my goals God centered and directed.
Goal 1: Young adolescent novel writer extrodinaire person
Goal 2: Homeschooler turned administrator of private academy of really really intelligent learners.
Goal 3: Not to become a soccer mom still "exploring" an idealistic career of fashion design for toddlers, or PTSA super star organizer while drinking coffee in a $30 tumbler while balancing a toddler and a cell phone as she walks a 3 wheeled stroller around the block of her next target (no child in her stroller, SUV in the parking lot).

My challenge is this, do I leave an unprofessional job of teaching underprivileged children that is somewhat rewarding, when the headaches have passed, to pursue goals that are a constant character building struggle to achieve? Or, do I settle for mediocre and keep signing that one year contract because the next year isn't guaranteed, to me or anyone else for that matter, for the sake of dreams that get bigger and bigger the more I ponder them? To be or not to be? I sit typing this as my 4 year old adds numbers a 6 year old is just mastering.
I conjure these dreams while my heart aches and bursts with anticipation for the unknown.
Onward Christian soldiers, the best is yet to come...

Baby Jeff -vs- Baby Ava

Here it is folks all mysteries regarding the origin of baby Ava's looks put to rest...
I need some votes here. IF, you think baby Ava looks just like my unc;e Jeff as a baby leave a comment for me. I say kinda, my mom and dad argue absolutely... and you SAY...

Coke Baby!

A brother's love

Gabe's perspective on life is very percise and calculated. The questions he asks need a very specific respeonse, because he thinks about it and contimplates life on his own alot!
Mom and dad have to be very careful not to give conflicting stories, because he will catch us and question our parental wisdom.
So here are a few of his conversations between him and dad.
"When I get older can I sleep in mommy's bed more?"
"No, when you get older you will actually sleep in mom's bed less."
"Why?"
"Because Mom's my wife and I need to sleep in her bed, not you!"
"Well then I want to get married. How old do I have to be to get married?"
"25"
"25? Mom said 30 years old."
"No you can be 25 to get married.
"Well, is that how old I have to be to marry Azariah (4.5 years old)?
"Yup!"
How old do I have to be to marry Jasmine (11 years old)?"
"25 as well, but you can only marry 1 person."
"well then I 'd marry Azariah."
We were at our Fall Festival at church and I was in charge of the color wheel a Christian's way of gamblng, Guess a color and pray that it lands on that color, the prizes were very rewarding. Joe decided to help and we were the liveliest color wheel hosts around! We were cheering and owwing and awwing with the crowd, I chanted colors better than any colligiate cheerleader.
I believe Gabe was impressed. Although it was a mini carnival, it must have looked huge and amazing to a 4 year old. Oh how life beats the child out of an adult.
Gabe was in a 4 year old's wonderland!
Dad and Gabe's convo coming back from the fall festival
"Dad, is mommy changing her job now?"
"No, she just likes helping people."
"I like helping people, I want to be a hander-outer toy-boy too!"
"You're not going to be a police officer now?"
" I'm going to be a police officer, a toy-boy, and a teacher. Like mommy"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, mommy is a teacher, a helper, and a houser."
"Oh, okay!"
"Yeah you can't be more than 3 things!"
"Oh I see."
All conversations were translated from Joe to me. All conversations were relayed as accurately as possible. Due to time lapses, some comversations were edited for content. All stutterings were edited out as well.

It was a Grandparent kind of weekend

Our little bathing beauty!
This little ball of pudge gained a full pound in a week. She is now eating formula to keep her weight up, apparently mom was starving her, Oops!
Anyway, this little bundle of joy showed off to all the grandparents oozing cuteness and leaking love everywhere. When she smiles her whole facelights up and she was blinding everyone this time.
She is such a joy to be around because her temperment is so laid back and cuddley. If she has a bottle, someone to talk to, and a few things to site see, she is in baby heaven.

Grandma & Gwen and Grandpa Tom were able to stay with us a spell, and boy do they cast a spell on the kids. Gabe can't sleep or eat without his buddy Grandpa Tom, baseball and football filled his afternoons, and sports and GI Joe army toys were the themes for his toy buying extravaganza!
Ava was putty in Gwen's arms as she held, fed, and played all weekend long with grandma Gwen.
My laundry was also putty in Gwen's hands as she folded it like no one else can. My clothes have never looked so good! I owe her $30, five dollars a basket, all money worth spending!
It was a laid back weekend. Joe and Tom hungout and talked the night away like 2 old men on a front porch.Time well spent for the two. All in all a superb time as we enter into the fall season.

Note to all who care, this year there will be a Christmas card sent out earlier than February.
I am on it now. Fall is my favorite time of year and I'm in the photo kind of mood, maybe our sweaters will all match too, I dunno, I dunno if we'll have time!

Week-end with grand rents

And fun was had by all! We were blessed by Hurricane Wilma, a forced evacuation caused my grandparents-in-law to come toward us. At the same time the in-laws, Tom and Gwen, were up as well. We all got to spend an evening together and have dinner. What fun it is to hang out with Bob and Mary, and lucky for them Suzan was able to drive them to and fro away from the storm.

Sure their city is in a minor state of disarray, but God takes care of HIS people, so there is no worrying! Safety is always the key, and the family was safe, although a bit bored of their life in a hotel room.
We had some dinner time excitement as Joe caused some minor paranoia over eating fish. Apparently he has a theory that if you are away from a coast line your chances of getting sick from eating fish are greater. My attitude was "bring on the spewing and pooing" but Mary and Suzan were a bit more hesitant. I had fried Cod, a fat ladies delight, and grandma Mary had broiled Cod, a little ladies delight! We both like to buck the system, "the man" can't hold these two feisty ladies down.
Needless to say none of us got sick, but Suzan felt a bit woozy the next day. Hence the spread of paranoia was effective, thank you Joe, she had fried chicken.

Dear Mom,

Dear Mom, I am sorry that every picture of you was blurry or that my children resemble the crazies down the street. I guess my shakey hands need a tripod injection.
This is me admitting that every time you are here, there is never any evidence of you ever being here. No picture trail, no grandma!( here comes the empathy card) However, if it makes you feel better, my children will have no evidence that I ever raised them, because I am behind the lens, and daddy's version of photo art is usually disgarded somewhere in the kitchen.
Needless to say here is the best I have with the photos I captured.
Now, since we were working on affirming ourselves, here are a few lines that need repeating:
" You are so much better looking in person!"

"Wow, I didn't know you had younger siblings! You must be the best big sister!"

" Who is that somewhat blurred but all the more beautiful knock-out?"

" That camera lens just couldn't contain all that beauty. How do you do it?"

Repeat twice daily.
LaShay

Who is this FOXY lady? Oh yeah it's LaShay

A few curious minds want to know who this very witty and intelligent LaShay is? This is she, her beauty surpasses her wit. Admire.... Now stop!
LaShay is an African name care of my peeps from work, it means "sassy lady friend" I accepted this name humbly as my own as I realized that I have been ghettophied now that I work inner city. So be it... I carry my real name as the real prize and share the Hebrew meaning proudly when people ask if LaShay is my real name. Everyone learns something new each day. Now isn't that a "teacherly" thing to say.
Speaking of my African American heritage I am now listening to Air Supplies greatest hits, just getting in touch with my roots!
I'm lost in Love folks...
"You know you can't fool me, I've been lovin you to long... it started so easy, you want to carry on(carry ooooooon)
I'm lost in love, and I don't know much, cuz I'm thinkin out loud and fell out of touch (airy music, synthisizer,more airy muiZAC ), but I'm back on my feet, and eager to be what you wanted, ... so lift your eyes if you feel you can, reach for a star and I'll show you a plan, I've figured it out what I needed was someone to show me... (sing it background sangers)"
Air Supply greatest hits

femininity! I guess she needs it!

I am very tired of peope asking how old my adorable baby boy is... I always reply "SHE is 6 months!".
"Oh I apologize. she's cute," they retort.I think to myself, is she?

I've conjured these conversations and can only conclude that when I see women who look like men, I never say there goes a handsom man, and then back track and say oops she is really handsom... I am really thinking, yikes! there goes one ugly he/she and she should stop confusing folks!

So with this I blame myself for people mistaking baby Ava for a boy. What else are they to think when she's dressed in dark blue and green jump suits because I'm too cheap to go buy new girl clothes and dress her in Gabe's supposed nuetral clothing.
Ugh! I broke down and bought her some girly practical clothes. Isn't she cute folks now that we can identify her gender!


Speaking of identification, we have now identified the root of her drooling... tooth #3 has surfaced.

Be afraid, be very afraid

Gabe walked by me in these glasses and declared, "I'm Peter Parker." I greeted him with a happy hello and he proceeded to try to shoot me.

He is our little tactical SWAT boy!

Ahh yeah, ahh...

Ahh, yeah... what's going on? Ahhh, nothin?,... alright than. ahhh...

Isn't she precious

Isn't she precious folks! Our little girl will be 6 months in 2 weeks. I can't believe where the time has gone! She has 2 of her bottom teeth, I'm sure more are to come along shortly, and she is eating solids like she's at a buffet. Well fabulous for her, she is well fed.
She hasn't quite grasped sitting up, she's more like a weeble who does stay down. She prefers to stand and jump, so we utilize our Johnny jump up.
She finds her big brother irresistably funny, and so do I.
Joe got him some shooting goggles and a pretend SWAT tactical gear and now he's trying to peck us off one by one. I'm more annoyed than afraid for my life.
The funny thing about Avi is that she always sits with her mouth wide open just like her dad and brother. Every time I look over at her, it's like she's saying AHhh, yeah, ahhh!
She's always looking zoned. It's quite commical.