The joy of my toys


Ever so often I open the wonderous caverns that are my photo libraries. There was a time in my life that I took my camera everywhere and I took photos of everything. Days that differ from now when my camera rarely sees the light of day. Facebook memories and timehop remind me of all I used to photograph and all I used to say. I often said to much. I probably still do. There was always a constant commentary of what we were doing or what I was feeling. As I have gotten older, I’ve tried to squash it because I know or I feel I’ve used people up. It’s not nice to use people up.

The commentary bothers me. Almost embarrases me but the photos? So much joy.

I love watching the children grow and grow again. In photographs, in stills. In photos that it doesn’t matter if the color balance is perfect or the composition tight. I find joy in the photos when my camera was just a toy.


My Drew. That sweater. He wore in Kindergarten where as Dexter wore it for his school photos just last year. The photo of Drew reminds me of how big Dexter is as well as how small Drew is and was. I loved stumbling on that photo. Watching Davis change from a tiny boy up at bat, to a child with a real swing and real dream to play ball in school. Photos reminded me of that.

They have reminded me of when Devlynn was too little to know the stress of high school or when there was no talk about buying her a car or her leaving home. I get to relive the moments when we welcomed her to the world all the way up to the first time she wore a pair of really nice shoes.

My camera, my toys brought me those joys.

I have a lot of toys I guess. I enjoy creating. Be it behind the lens or with paper and pen. I find a lot of joy in sewing. Making something for someone to be warm under or in. Something that will wrap them with my love. I take a lot of time and care making each Halloween costume, each Easter basket. I love knowing how special my child feels in the costume that doesn’t look like anyone else’s. I get joy from the comments. I like hearing that I am a good maker.

Vanity, joy in vanity. Terrible confession, *wink*.

We’re all granted gifts I think. I sometimes wonder what mine really is. I love trying to do lots of things but I never really know what it is I am really good and what it is I just love learning to try to do.

I wonder if I just stuck with one thing would I get really good at it or really bored. Would the sound of a sewing machine still make me as happy as it does now. How it makes me think of my Grandma Esther and how her craft closet smelled. What it felt like to twirl in the dresses she made for me with the machine I look at all the time.

Joys in toys. Joys in gifts. I love to create, make and I hope it brings others joy too.


Monday, Funday

Baby DexterToday’s joy? Miss J. She’s Dexter’s speech therapist. I admit, she and I had a rocky start. I didn’t probably give her the chance she deserved as we were walking away from a therapist who I thought was awful. We had a rocky start with her too and so I can admit, I was not the most welcoming mother.

Dexter showed signs of delay early on. I sort of ignored it as we’d been down a similar road with Davis but he eventually caught up and hasn’t stopped talking. But Dexter was different and he threw a lot of fits and there were lots of tears from him and from me. He started speech therapy late. But both his speech and behavior therapist were lovely and we saw instant progress early on. When he aged out (quickly), I sadly said goodbye to people I loved and was welcomed into cancellations, schedule changes and comments about how tough Dexter was and what a bullhead child he was. It was ugly. And I couldn’t wait to be done. I think when she said she hit his goals, I just blindly agreed because I was hoping we’d be done with her. Another mistake on my part.

When things changed and we lost her as a therapist I was hesitant with the new girl, J because it was more time changes and more uprooting of the schedule but ended up being okay. I still am not married to Monday meetings because we’re out of school on Monday a lot but besides those “misses”, J has been consistent and good at communication.  Even gives me a little grace when I can’t talk in the hall… because, anxiety.

Dexter’s showed so much improvement. The fits have been fewer and he’s started to really do better but he’s still, very behind. When I hear the other little people in his class, I know he needs a little more help and that’s fine but I always had sort of an aching when I thought back to the original therapist decreasing his time and me agreeing to it.

Today we met with her and his teacher and the school director and he’s going to get more help. And it’s because they all fought for him. It was nice to know we had some awesome people on our team. It’s nice to know that I’m not just making up these delays in my head and that he really does need a little extra help… and that he will be getting it. A joy filled ending.. or beginning.


He gives me joy. He’s wild and witty and funny and smart and kind and good. He’s just a wild man. I love seeing things through his eyes. Tonight we made lasagna together. He and I. He knows what to do and he loves to help. Now if we could just get him to figure out that the oven is hot, we’d be good to go! I love having him with me.

He’s catching on. And everyone says how kind and sweet he is at school. They see the same gears I see and it makes me happy that someone is taking the time to get to know and love him like we do, like I do. Sometimes it is hard to have one of “those kids”. He was the one people pointed at when we at baseball two years ago. We’ve had many a days where we had to leave cart fulls of groceries and go.

But with help from J and his amazing teachers and preschool he’s on the best track possible. It’s my joy knowing he is so loved.

(I miss his teeth, lol the no teeth is super cute but look at that grin)


Oh the little pieces


Today was a series of unfortunate events. We have a good life. I can’t complain but sometimes it’s like this ripple effect. The ripple of rotten. Starts with something as simple as a 4am wake  up and turns into a crap storm of just, what the ___! Today felt like one of those days. And there wasn’t even that much going on.

My reality is that of a woman who has not slept through the night in 16 years. You think I am joking but I am not. I’m not even exaggerating that much. Devlynn born into this world as the worst sleeper known to man, just set the caliber for who could torture me the most. By the time Dixon was born I realized there was no hope of sleeping till he was close to five. Even Dexter still night wakes. I’m tired. And most mornings one or both babies are up at the very latest, 6:00am and I try to beat them up so I have an hour to myself. Lately it’s not been working because much like this morning, a tiny voice wakes me and anyone else in the room. Up at 4:00am. Wide awake. And they are little enough that they still need me to get all the things. And most of the time it’s before I’ve brewed the coffee. I need to invest in one that auto brews but truth be known, I am not sure I could every begin to guess what time to set it.

Now, I’m not complaining. I signed up for this. They’re mine even when they’re obsessively repeating, “milk please”. But I am still tired. Very tired. And tired sets a tone for a day no matter how you try to avoid it.

So tired mom sits down to work a little but no work gets completed because milk cups need filled and the wooden train calls and when friends are over we make pancakes. And then I yelled at poor Dexter over hot oil and bacon and the big boys tried to save him. And Kevin’s phone wouldn’t back up and wouldn’t charge and all I wanted to do was shower, work and run and errand before he went to work but it all went to hell in a handbasket and now, I sit here wondering at the same time how the day could of gone by so slowly and yet wondering how it’s 9:00pm.

It was one of those days.

It feels a lot like groundhogs days. Days for which I am grateful and sometimes pray would slow down but ground hogs day indeed. And with each repeat of the milk cup I wonder if I will ever stop being tired.

Will I ever get enough sleep?

Of course I don’t mean that literally but I can’t even explain what I really mean.

Each morning I try and start my day with the good. I try and take the time to nurse my baby as long as he needs and then tuck him back into our warm bed to dream of the things baby’s dream of. I remember every morning to look my little ones in the face as they sleep and wish each one a good morning. It’s the time of the day I hear about Devlynn’s school and what they’re excited about but often, by the time it’s time to go, I’m a crazy mom, upset we’re late or that I can’t find shoes or whatever. And it’s because I am just so tired…

I have to figure out a way to break the cycle.


I am taking this week to think about ways to change the days. To make them less tired.


This week will all be sunny. I am gonna try and take a moment to write every day about something that brings me joy. The more joy, the less tired. Right? So here goes, 7 sunny days. Wanna join me?