Yay... Morning's! (sorta)

Yay... Morning’s! (sorta)

Alexander, my 6 year old, middle son, who so happens to have ADHD has many a quirks about him. The first of which is his mornings. Most ADHD children wake up groggy due to difficulty falling asleep the night before. Not my Alex. In fact the best part of our day together is the time between waking him up and him getting ready for school. That’s right, the best part of my day consists of about 15 minutes.

I pull him by his feet towards the edge of his mattress (I know, sounds weird, refer to the pic). 

Kids are hidden in their cave. Only safe way for retrieval is to pull the feet!

He stretches up and makes his already skinny frame slimmer. And then he puts his arms forward for me to pick him up. I lift my 6 year old out of bed and we hug while I say things like “good morning” and “I love you.” He responds in like and often times enters silly Alex mode. This mode can be filled with a cute “aahhhh” sound akin to Littlefoot yawning from the movie A Land Before Time, 

baby talk that is not at all annoying (maybe because I’m only half awake myself) or an outright hilarious dance like this: 

The coolest dance you will ever see

This is when he showers me with “you’re the best mom ever” and “I just want to snuggle with you.” I give him his medicine, which is completely painless and he enjoys. He tells me again something about his love or my awesomeness (are you starting to understand why this part of my day is the best?). I proceed to make breakfast and call him and his brother, Jackson, to the table. This is usually when all hell breaks loose. 

To be fair it has become progressively better as we try new things. I put a kids show, usually Wild Kratts, on when they wake up (I’ve tried going without it and Jackson won’t even open his eyes for breakfast). But I have had to limit it to one show even though they are still eating, otherwise Mr. Distracto won’t eat his food and I say “Alex, EAT!” about 50 times. Okay, one show solves that problem. 

Next, after turning off the show the kids look at verses in their AWANA handbooks (like girls and boy scouts, but for church concepts and verses). 

While they are still eating they are SUPPOSE to be memorizing and practicing their verses. Meanwhile, Alex has to tell me about all his dreams, what happened yesterday, and discuss today’s future events. This is all well and good, in fact it’s quite enjoyable to hear his take on things. But once again, I have to redirect him back to his verses because we are trying to teach a “First things first” mentality, and God is first. 

Once verses and breakfast are done, back upstairs for clothes, teeth and hair. I quickly figured out that just laying the kids clothes on the ground in a seemingly logical order (i.e. youngest to oldest or vice versa) did not cut it. Somehow Alex always would end up with Levi’s pants and Jackson’s shirt, completely missing his pile of clothes, which was consistently in the middle. So the clothes cubes were created. 

Levi showin' off the cubbies

Each child has a cube with their daily clothes in them. Originally, I had the entire weeks worth of clothes in each cube, you know, at the beginning of the school year when all moms are gung-ho about this “being prepared” thing. Currently, I scrounge up pants from this pile and a shirt from over there, oh and socks just laying on the ground because who knows what basket those are in, and place them in the cubes right before I wake them up. Yeah, that’s how I roll these days: dangerously.

So, you’d think these cubbies would solve ALL problems. Nope, second child grabs the clothes out of them (yay!), proceeds to drop them on the ground (ok, not too bad), then walks on them for about 5 minutes if I don’t start counting down from 10 (boo!). Why is he walking on them? He is not disgruntled. He doesn’t hate the choice of clothing, in fact, he hasn’t even registered what shirt it is. He isn’t dragging his feet (ha! because if he were he’d probably notice the pants he’s dragging along, maybe). Nope! Little sweetheart’s brain isn’t even in the room. He’s thinking about Skylanders, or How to train a Dragon, or his friend Frank at school and something he said two weeks ago or how badly he wants to learn to do a flip at gymnastics or.... the possibilities are endless. All these thoughts exit his mouth eventually in a spew of “and also, I have a question” or “blah blah blah, yeah, I know, right?” as if we were having a convo instead of him having an internal/external monologue. 

Meanwhile, back at base camp, I am spraying water in his hair, and applying gel to his faux and counting down endlessly to encourage the next step in the process, and brushing teeth saying “no talking while I’m brushing”. 

Then, it’s back down the stairs to put on shoes. Oh wait, he’s too scared to go down by himself. “Levi, could you go downstairs with your brother while I finish up here with Jackson?” I finish Jackson’s hair and head down myself. “Alex, you’re suppose to be getting your shoes on.” My voice shows frustration. “Sorry, sorry, what was I thinking?” He exclaims. I refrain from truly asking this question. I have to start counting down. Same goes for his jacket. Great we are ready to go. “Alex, get your backpack. Your backpack. Right there. Alex, that isn’t your backpack. That’s your brothers. Alex, look at your backpack. Pick up your backpack. Good job, now put it on. Lets go.”

Duplicate this for getting in the car and buckling up.

This is the first hour of Alexander’s day. This is a “good morning”. I struggle trying to get the right routine, words, tone of voice. Medication and dosage is still in question. Other moms can get their kids ready in 30 minutes. I know because I’ve asked. I give us 1 hour and 15 minutes, just in case. Whenever I have tried to shorten it so they get more sleep, we end up rushing and yelling, frustration fuming, and then we are late. Not such a great start to a day.

But if everything goes similar to the above plan, than the day starts off pretty well. Whenever I am ready to pull my hair out, Alex always comes through expressing a moment of sincere love, genuine amazement, or complete admiration towards someone in his family. He makes me smile the most sincere grin. I mean, look at this face. Who wouldn’t be grinning?

Torn

Cousins

When I was in high school there was this song called “Torn” by Natalie Imbruglia. She was basically a one-hit wonder but it spoke to me. I didn’t know all the words. Well, I mumbled them like just about any other teen who is pretending to be cool and know all the lyrics. But I loved the idea that this person was torn and wasn’t all upset about it. There were plenty of melancholy songs in that era (it WAS right after grunge), ones that fueled the woe-is-me mentality, the my-so-called-life generation. But Natalie Imbruglia wasn’t down in the dumps about her torn emotions. Well, she could have been, I wouldn’t know since I can’t remember the words. The music itself was uplifting. It leads up to a crescendo where I always, ALWAYS, put my arms out and turned in a happy, two year old twirl. It just made me giddy. How could I be so happy when there was so much affliction?

I ask myself that same question now, in my 30’s, after I have moved 1700 miles away from my home. 

Levi, Jackson & Alexander looking at the Pacific Ocean

I have just returned from a three week trip to California. We drove two days to Southern California. 

Here we go...again!

Got to watch my brother-in-law retire from 20 years of service in the Marine Corps (awesome ceremony!) and spent time with family on the beach for a few days. 

The whole ceremony was for him...yeah, I guess he's kind of awesome!

Then I dropped Mike off at the airport so he could fly back to San Antonio while I drove up to Sacramento with boys in tow. We then spent two weeks visiting with family and friends.

My best friend and family

At the beginning of the two weeks I was freaking out because it wasn’t going to be enough time to see everyone I wanted to see. At the end of the two weeks I was so ready to go home and back to my normal life. I feel bad about this. You see, although it was more jam packed because I was trying to squeeze everything in, the two weeks reminded me of how chaotic my life was when I lived in California. 

My Sea-Star

Maybe it’s because I was born and raised there and I had so many people to keep up with. In comparison, I know hardly anyone in San Antonio so there are less people to ask for my time. 

Friends

Maybe it’s because I was always committed to multiple things at the same time in Sacramento and I haven’t been connected to anything in particular in Texas that requires a commitment. 

Alexander's pre-school friend, William

Maybe it’s a slower pace of life in the midwest. It’s probably a combination of all of these. 

My other best friend & Levi

Irregardless (that’s a word, right? I just looked it up...it is! But it doesn’t mean what I think it means. Oh well, this is my blog, I’m using it anyways!) I am ready to admit that I couldn’t wait to go home to San Antonio, yet I was kind of sad that I wanted to leave my friends and family so willingly. Enter the torn emotions. My heart will be in NorCal and in SoTex (I just made that up, I think). I will visit my peeps emotionally and physically once or twice a year. But I have to focus on what this place has to offer me.

Look! Airborn Fireworks! This is Texas!

Right now, it offers a lot. In the short five months we have been here I have:

• made this house our home
• made this home exactly what I have always wanted in a home (finally clean and organized!)
• enlisted the kids in chores, allowances, tithing, and savings (all things I wanted to do to teach life lessons but never found the time)

Allowance envelopes (Dave Ramsey system)

• worked with Levi doing “school fun” at home

First day of school fun this school year

• started a Gracie Bully Proof program that brought 12 kids into our home this last Sunday to teach them Jiu Jitsu to protect themselves (and will hopefully become a Christian outreach)
• sit down as a family to eat and pray together before every meal (can’t believe I had to go all the way to Texas for this!)

I know there are countless other positives. But the biggest is that I have time for my family now. My family: my number one mission.

Yeah, I’m torn. Probably will always be. But life isn’t about dwelling on the turmoil. It’s about bracing the crescendo wherever you can find it. And twirling, arms outstretched, like a toddler, smile on your face. 

Twirl on y’all.

Slapped!

Four months ago I was going about my life as I always had, unaware of life changes that were going to rock my world. I was born and raised in Sacramento, California. My entire life has consisted within the small square miles of South Sacramento and Northern Elk Grove (separated by one street). I went to school in that part of town, I married and settled there. My adult life revolved around taking my kids to school, attending church, and running errands in this area. My family chose to live with my parents as a mean of extra support and financial ease. This is how we saw the rest of our lives. We were happy with these choices. We could live our life like this and know no different, and be happy as clams, or something like that.

My best friend, Joey, reading to my boys

Then we hear that my husbands job is moving to San Antonio, Texas. The first words out of my mouth after this announcement were “yeah, that’s nice, we aren’t going.” Mike, my ever capable, never not-been-offered-a-job-he-has-interviewed-for husband wanted to apply for the position of a promotion in San Antonio. Knowing that he would probably get the job, but still dead set on not leaving my comfortable life behind, I agreed he should, just to see what they offered. But let me reiterate, we weren’t moving!

Levi with two of his cousins, Nathaniel & Anthony

Around this time I got slapped hard. By God. I had been preaching that the only way we would move to Texas is if it was a God thing. You know, like He wants us to go change the world. Like He wants to hold our hand and make it happen. Yet I was mentally stopping the process with my exclaims of “heck no we aren’t going.” Apparently, that isn’t allowing God to be the boss of my life. I guess. 

Mike was informed they would be flying him to Texas for an interview, which was the day I couldn’t go grocery shopping without hyperventilating and crying. Two days later I was laying facedown for a massage. And I got it. I just got it. I can’t remember what the big “aha” moment was. But I do remember getting it. God said “you got it” and I said, “yeah, God, I got it” and He said “good.” Then he followed up with “geez it’s about time.” Well, not in so many words. We didn’t actually have a conversation. But I knew I got it because all of a sudden I wasn’t scared anymore. I felt that peace that everyone talks about when they know God is speaking, leading, and planning for them. It was glorious! I still didn’t know if Mike would get the promotion, but I now was reconciled to the fact that if he got it, and God said to go, we would and it would all be okay.

Mike, Alexander and me at our beloved Kings

Fast-forward to the next week. Mike’s interview is on Tuesday. We were told he wouldn’t hear anything until Friday, three days later. He interviews, goes to the airport, and waits for his flight. Then he gets a call. Four freaking hours after his interview. Four! While he is still in San Antonio. Meanwhile, I am in Sacramento, doing the Daniel Fast for the first time. Eating little more than veggies and nuts (yeah, I didn’t read up too well on the fast) until we would hear back from his interview (which I thought would be for three days). Praying a whole lot. And really hoping to hear sooner rather than later because I was hungry. Mike calls me. I’m taking a nap. You know...because I’m tired...because I am lacking FOOD! He is a horrible human being and only leaves a message consisting of “hey, I heard back from them, but you are napping, you are going to have to call me back in order to know what they said, oh, and I’m about to hop on the plane so you won’t be able to get ahold of me for hours! Bye!” Like I said, HORRIBLE. HUMAN. BEING! 

This is the first moment the boys saw Mike after we arrived in San Antonio. 

Mike's first words "Get me!"

So like 4 hours later (longest 4 hours of my life) I finally get the call. And like the horrible, I mean, wonderful person my husband is he asks me what I want to hear before he would tell me the answer. I, for the first time, realized I wanted him to get the job and I knew we would be moving to San Antonio if he did get the offer. And that’s when we knew it was God ordained. Because no time in my entire life have I wanted to move so far away from my hometown. Never have I desired a life in a different state than my family. It was so contrary to my own plan, and yet I wanted it, so it wasn’t our decision. God already decided for us.

Jackson's friends saying goodbye to him

My second 1700 mile trip in 2 weeks, this time with the rest of the fam

We have been in Texas for 3 months now and I still don’t know why we are here. It’s obviously a good move for Mike’s career. It has been an enjoyable adventure. But I can’t say that I know why we are here. But the great thing about trusting in Him is that I don’t have to know. 

My boys looking at their new city at the Tower of the Americas

This ain't our first rodeo, actually it was

Levi is a Texan

What I know is this:

• my Father is in charge 
• His story is way more important than mine
• His picture has more meaning than the little glimpse I see down here

These facts are incredibly comforting in a time I don’t know a whole lot. I am blessed to have this knowledge. I am blessed to have this stability

I am blessed to have been slapped.

Ham Diggity Dog It

A few weeks ago Jackson, my 5 year old, came up with the Hamdog. It's origins started like most do, from a poor moment and the need for creativity.

We were low on groceries, the kind of low where you have food in the house but nothing goes together. We did not have any bread for sandwiches, no mac & cheese (a go to around here), and no hotdogs for the hotdog buns we happened to have. For some reason we had deli meat, which we never have in our house.

Now Jackson has never been a fan of hotdogs. Seriously. Like never. What boy doesn't like hotdogs? My boy, apparently. So we had a moment of exasperation from me, "ugh, nothing goes together" and a moment of inspiration from Jackson, "let's put the ham in the hotdog bun." And the Hamdog was born. Put some shredded cheese on it and everyone in the house is happy. Hamdog with cheese coming right up.

  

 

This idea, like many in our house, went down the path of Jackson's entrepreneur brain. He wants to build a Hamdog stand to sell Hamdog's. His dad and him talk about it nonstop. He has to plan it out via a drawing. He enlists the help from his handy grandpa, Paw. And, before we know it, we have decided to do a yard sale on a January Saturday morning, really for the purpose of selling our junk, but also to launch his new business.

And Jackson is stoked beyond stoked. He learned how to progress a business from an idea to solid form. He brainstormed, decided the price, came up with the toppings, prepared, served, used customer service skills, and handled the money. He also branded the business name "Hamdog It". And most importantly he followed through. In a world where someone can start a business by buying a domain name with little commitment more than deciding the URL he grasped his little hands around a concept, believed in it, and made it happen.

Obviously this isn't possible without the help of us, the parents, but beyond that, without the help of good people. Time and time again we saw people walk up to a yard sale, where they would have most likely bargained down to the penny on a hundred dollar piece, soften their hearts and immediately respond to a good old fashion lemonade stand. When Jackson asked, "Would you like a Hamdog?" Most of our customers initial reaction was a no thank you, especially because they had no idea what a Hamdog was. But as soon as we told them it was Jackson's first business and how he came up with the idea himself, they melted. Some started out buying a flavored water he was also selling. As soon as they saw him prepare a Hamdog for another customer, they quickly changed their minds and ordered one as well.

Hamdog It's 1st Customer

A great family we met. They all ended up with a Hamdog eventually!

Hamdog It sold out. He made $36. He is hooked.

Jackson's 1st Transaction

The next morning we counted the money, talked about where it all came from, what is most important, and my big boy tithed for the first time. Yeah, I'm a proud mama.

Turning Lemons into Orange Juice

My, oh my, two posts in the same week! Who am I and what have I done with my slacker self? Don't worry, I'm sure this new found brain surge of creativity will die out soon enough. Let's ride this train as long as it will take us. So here goes another one.... :)

This post is dedicated to all those people who can use the restroom in peace and if they do get that peace it is without fear that something disastrous is occurring throughout the house. I'll get to that in a moment.

Let's close our eyes and imagine a house full of children. Happy, well dressed, clean teethed, mohawked children. Yeah, that's right, in my dreams my kids would be rockin' the hawk. Don't judge. The kids would be playing in a toy room full of well organized toys, none of which came from the dollar store or McDonald's. How I despise McDonald's toys. This toy room is fantastic because as soon as the children are done with a toy, the toy grows legs (if it did not already have such limbs), and walks itself back to it's colorfully labeled box. If I did have to clean anything, it would stay spotless for the whole week. That's a little ridiculous, let's just shoot for an hour, because that, in itself, would be a miracle in my house. Ok, let's open those eyes before I fall asleep.

So, as you can guess, this comes no where close to resembling reality. While 1/3 of my kids are usually mohawked, 2/3 might have brushed their teeth, and I'm pretty sure all 3 are happy (except for when they are screaming over a recent injury, which happens often) the rest seems like such a distant dream, like back when I slept. Dreams come true, I wholeheartedly believe this, but sometimes one must wait a very, very, very long time. In the meantime I organize, and reorganize to get my family of 5 and my household of 8 to fit into our home. I surface clean, because a I leave one room semi-spotless the little rascals are following behind messing everything up again leaving very little time to get to the deep cleaning. And often times, throughout my house, one can hear me asking the question "Really? Really?" or declaring my favorite phrase lately "aye-yi-yi!" to some munchkin who feels like putting his own personal spin on the look of a room.

This leads me to my fantastic potty break this morning. I'll leave some details to be assumed but let's just say I was actually done within the first minute of my visit to the loo but chose to sit an additional 2 or 3 minutes to finish playing a game on my phone. I had two kids in school and only one roaming around the house at the time. And this was my moment of quiet time. I chose to assume my two year old was behaving perfectly even though he was quiet as a mouse. Yeah, I know better, but I really wanted to finish that game (sigh).

As I come into the kitchen I am exposed to my lemons of the day, figuratively. Levi, little sweetheart that he is, who loves to do all the big kid things, has filled his cup with water from the refrigerator door...multiple times...and has dumped water and ice all over my kitchen floor. "Really? Really?" fly from my mouth. I'm a huge proponent of a child cleaning up after himself to negatively reinforce the fantastic thing he just did. So I grabbed the rag towels we always seem to need for monstrous messes and quickly realized that we don't have enough for this Godzilla and there is no way Levi can clean this one up. Levi's job quickly turned to picking up the ice cubes and mine was to soak up the water.

As I'm on my hands and knees, mumbling under my breath, frustration of never being able to catch up, let alone get ahead, going through my very being, I had an orange juice moment. I'm staring at this floor that is quit frankly disgusting recalling how many times in the last few days I have walked over it and stated (in my head, or course....why would I want someone to hold me accountable!) that this floor was in grave need of a mopping.

God spoke to me then. Well, I'm not much of a "I hear God speak clearly" person. I think God pokes holes through the fog of thoughts and muddle of activity going on in my brain and allows certain ideas or words to become clear. This is what became clear, He is God and can use anything as an opportunity.

Really, God? Did you really just use my sons mischief as a way to get me down on my hands and knees to clean this floor? Probably not. But with the right attitude, the one with vision seen through the Lord's lens, and with His help any lemon can be made into orange juice. Why orange juice? Well, anyone can turn lemons into lemonade. Only God can turn them into orange juice.

Hope God gives you some orange juice moments this week,
                                                                             
Cat

Sweet Snow Sledding Stitches

So it's been a while since I have posted on this blog, to say the least. To be exact it's been 11 months since my one and only post I have ever blogged. Chalk this up to another one of my fails. Another one of my bright ideas that runs hot through my blood but cools very quickly as soon as I realize I have overextended myself. So why, oh why, am I doing this again to myself? Because it's a brand new year, it's 2013, and everything looks possible again.

Well, that's one reason. The real extent of it is far deeper. I love my family and want to document them. I love my job as a mom and I want to voice that. I love my position at home, but can get frustrated by inabilities to be a creative accomplished adult, so I'm finishing this one thing every week (hopefully). I love my Lord, and truly feel like my life would not be so blessed without my total faith in Him. This blog, although mostly about my life is really about my life through Him. This is a reminder for me to remember that it isn't about me, because I can't do this alone. This is to show myself and others that if I did try to do this by myself I would surely run on empty. Instead, I am choosing to run on Him.

So how does one start documenting and blogging after almost a year break? I'll start with this last Christmas break. For the first time my family of 5 plus my parents and brother (and some additional friends and family later in the week) decided to experience a white Christmas. We were hoping to get away from the chaos of running around and last minute errands so that we can enjoy the blessing of God's gift to us in the form of a baby. Let's just say "mission accomplished!" This trip was that and more... and in some cases more than we bargained for.

It started with the packing and prep work to get out the door. We rented a cabin at Zephyr Point in South Lake Tahoe from the Saturday before Christmas to the Sunday after, so, needless to say, we had a lot to prepare for. Our goal was to exit our driveway at noon on that Saturday. Yeah, that was likely to happen. We finally left at 2. Let me clarify, we left our driveway but did not actually head to our destination. I still needed to get snow chains. The chains I had in my garage did not fit my "special" tires. So we went to an auto parts store. I show them my owners manual stating the size tires I have. Their eye brow lifts and open mouths did not help to comfort me in my already frazzled state. Apparently my run-flat tires on my 2005 Honda Odyssey Touring were more than an odyssey to these veteran car folks. They had absolutely no idea which snow chains I should use. So I call the number in my owners manual. Finally after much explaining I get the part number that I need. And, of course, they are out of stock at that store. But, yay, another store has it, and that's on our way to Tahoe... sweet! Finally seems like something, sort of, is going our way. Off we go to the next auto store. Luckily the lovely gentleman who helped me noticed that I wouldn't have enough clearance once they were installed and referred me to the same size chains but in the cable form. Woo hoo, now we are on our way.... at 3pm!

Our drive was going absolutely great until we hit this...

 

yes, that's a beautiful view, no, those cars are not moving. Apparently I-80 was closed so everyone and their mom was using 50 to get to Tahoe. That, along with chain controls and some not-so-smart people stopping in the middle of the road to put their chains on, turned our 3 hour tour into a 9 hour car ride. A few saving graces... the view was spectacular, for two out of three of our boys this was their first glimpse of snow, my husband was a great Lincoln Navigator, the DVD player is a great distraction, it was nap time for our youngest most of the way, and we were all together, which, for us, is always the best situation.

 

What kept us going the whole time was the thought of our boys waking up to a snowy wonderland. After finally getting to the cabin around midnight, and unloading, we headed to bed around 1am. And what kept us going came to fruition when I came down the stairs in the morning and saw this...

 

 

It was all worth it when Jackson, our 5 year old, said to me "I'm so glad this isn't a dream because this is the best day ever." Yeah, your right son, it's a pretty good day.

 

Our week was spectacular, full of sledding, snow fortress building, movies, games, friends and family. We celebrated Christmas with one of my best ideas to date (if I do say so myself). We had a birthday party for Jesus. After the kids opened up their one present on Christmas eve, which is always pajamas or equivalent (robes and slippers this year)...

 

Levi in robe and slippers

 

Jackson (not too happy) and Alexander (always happy, in pictures at least)

 

...and were sent to bed...

 

...my husband and I decorated for a birthday party.

 

 

Christmas morning was, of course, amazing...

 

Jackson's new minecraft shirt

 

Alexander's angry birds hat

 

Levi's elmo backpack

But what happened the next day was more than we bargained for...

 

 

...our little Levi hit his head on the metal railing of a bed and got 5 stitches. He screamed like crazy, blood was everywhere, but he calmed quickly and handled it like a champ. He only cried again when he was pissed off at being held down in urgent care while they put the stitches in. Yeah, that's our 3rd child. Stubborn, persistent, and first to get stitches. Not a bad record for our family of three boys I'd say.

 

Overall, this trip was amazing and exactly what we needed... quiet and slow so we could fully enjoy the wonders of a baby born to save the world.

 

Here's a few more gems from the week...

 

 

Mike & Alexander Sledding

 

Alexander, Jackson, & Mr. Snowman

 

Levi's Icicle Delivery

 

Matt helps with the Snow Fortress Icicles

 

Alexander being his normal self

 

Real Snow Cones!

 

Minecraft Lego's... Jackson's in heaven!

 

Family

 

Snow Angel

 

The Hernandezez

 

We were so blessed to have these moments and to share them with some amazing people. Thanks to all who shared it with us, helped to make it easier and enjoyable, and truly love our chaos!

 

Running on Him,

                         Cat