Friday, January 8, 2016

Selfie Take 2



Y'all probably thought I was joking. Sadly....I am deathly serious. THIS IS my resolution! In all of my free time, I will be perfecting my selfie. Apparently, free time = oral hygiene time. This one is pretty good....for my toothbrush. It manages to look curvy and thin all that the same time.

It looks like I only have one boob.

I'm a little jealous of my toothbrush. Form and function.


Hangs head.



Thursday, January 7, 2016

SQT- Paying it Forward


I am super spoiled. I got a laptop for Christmas. I blame Santa...really...what's he gonna do? I was truly THAT good last year and I think he would have done just about ANYTHING to get me to stop singing Santa baby. I wrote my first blog in 1.2 million years last night. It felt so good that I kindly asked my husband if I could once again spend my evening with my face glued to my new Christmas present, you know...so I could gift the world with a blog post of grammatical errors, pitiful slang, sporadic and inappropriate curse words and copious amounts of photos to fill in the blank spaces. It's my way of paying it forward, yo. I was really looking forward to completing this act of charity tonight.


Before I could blog, I had to get my angelic boys to bed. Oh bedtime, how you vex me. Why did I think having all 3 boys in the same room was a good idea? Why did God think I could survive the gift of 3 uber talkative boys? I fear HE might have misjudged me. After 30 minutes, my temper was rearing her ugly head. I decided to bust out my new prayer journal and sit my butt down outside their bedroom door. Surely transcribing prayer would settle the temper down. Surely? Sadly not tonight....the rage is strong with me. . . .I took a second to thank God for Dragon Time which kept me from losing all control and becoming a fire-breathing she beast. Still, after an hour and a half of whack-a-mole my will to live is gone...let alone my will to blog.
This beauty keeps me out of jail...it's literally the shizzzzz.

I am seriously excited about my Saint for 2016. Seriously! I have had a lifelong interest in the lives of the Saints and the past 2 years I have been thrilled to learn about the saints I got...but this year was so perfect. I mean....PERFECT. The Patron of Impossible Cases! Ask my husband....If I am anything at all, I am an impossible case! To make it even more delicious, it is a Saint I did not know about.

ST RITA: Patron of impossible cases, difficult marriages, and parenthood

The learning got PERSONAL!   A light bulb was illuminated in my pea brain and I bought myself a nice leather journal to organize my battle. I am waging a spiritual war this year of Mercy. Instead of flailing about wildly and  wielding snark like a weapon as is my normal M.O., I am turning over a new leaf, inspired by this amazing prayer. Seriously, the tone is right up my alley and I enjoyed praying it every night. I think I may have been fighting my trial and tribulations with the wrong tools. I've got my Battle Book ready. Let's DO THIS! 
Oration to the Saint of the Impossible
O excellent St. Rita, worker of miracles, from thy sanctuary in Cascia, where in all thy beauty thou sleepest in peace, where thy relics exhale breaths of paradise, turn thy merciful eyes on me who suffer and weep!
Thou seest my poor bleeding heart surrounded by thorns Thou seest, O dear Saint, that my eyes have no more tears to shed, so much have I wept! Weary and discouraged as I am, I feel the very prayers dying on my lips.
Must I thus despair in this crisis of my life? O come, St. Rita, come to my aid and help me. Art thou not called the Saint of the Impossible, Advocate to those in despair? Then honor thy name, procuring for me from God the favor that I ask.
[Here ask the favor you wish to obtain.]
Everyone praises thy glories, everyone tells of the most amazing miracles performed through thee, must I alone be disappointed because thou hast not heard me? Ah no! Pray then pray for me to thy sweet Lord Jesus that He be moved to pity by my troubles and that, through thee, O good St. Rita, I may obtain what my heart so fervently desires.
(Pray the Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be to the Father, three times.)



If your interest has been piqued, you too could generate a Saint for 2016. Make a new friend. Learn a new prayer. Start your own battle! The power of prayer can change your world. Seriously, I have seen improvement already! I am tempted to start praying that my hubby to discover a love of dancing with his beloved wife. It could happen!! Stay tuned! Check it out! http://saintsnamegenerator.com/


Oh wait! I know it's belated...but Happy New Year! We had a rip-roaring crazy night! I hope it was memorable for all of you as well!
No lies. This was taken at 7:09 pm.

I don't normally set New Year Resolutions....and if I do set them, I rarely remember that I did. But ya know....this year, I might prove myself wrong. I turned 40 last year, clearly my memory and willpower is only getting better, right?  I got in better shape, I am feeling pretty good these days. I have no way of proving that on the interwebs so in 2016 I have committed myself to mastering the selfie. Trout pout and all.
SELFIE!
Note to self.....it's early days and this criticism is constructive, do not give up, but seriously Bex....Lose the hat. You look like a cone head. And profile? Maybe not your strong suit, unless you were TRYING to look like this guy:

Photo credit: gadgetdude via Visual Hunt / CC BY


I have a year, it may take the entire year but...I think I can...I think I can!


Meet Marv
I love this boy despite the fact that I have never met him. I just know deep in my heart that he would be a wonderful addition to a family! Your family? Do you know the family for him? Please share! He has 22 months before he ages out and can no longer be adopted. Let's find him a family! You can get more information HERE.

Man, I am glad I did this! Paying it forward feels GOOOOD!


For more Quick Takes, visit This Ain't the Lyceum!

Epiphany

“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”  2 Corinthians 12:9

Every year on this day. Pow. A punch to the gut.

Every year I blog about this day. It all started HERE.

Yes, you ARE welcome. One of these years I will get it right. I will sit back with a satisfied grin and high five myself repeatedly. I want to get all the beauty in this struggle. Every year, I am left wanting more from my retelling. So yall, just bear with me...because some day, this blog is going to totally knock your socks off!

Every year, I know this day is coming. I don't fear it. do not mourn everyday; I do not cling to loss or sadness. There is nothing to mourn. I do not believe that love dies and I have not lost Beckett. He is well. He is happy. He is still my darling baby boy and I am proud to be his mama It is just another day until it arrives. And then it's the 6TH and it feels like I am giving Shaq a piggy back while carrying Roseanne in my Ergo. All. Day. Long. I am not angry. I am not sad per se but man, I could weep. I could rage. Today I am confused by the intensity of this I am okay and not okay at the same time....and I am thinking it could be PMS. The gift that makes a sane woman look one fry short of a Happy Meal. Shaq and Roseanne successfully slow me down enough that I can mull things over.

On this day I get to revisit the beauty and brutality of seeing my precious Beckett in the flesh, of counting his precious toes and reveling in the tiny miracle in my hand. I have another chance to try and grasp the miraculous in the devastating loss.  Today is  my Beckett day.

So, today, I placed flowers at Beckett's grave. Happy Beckett day baby boy! I can still smell the Baby's Breath. What a lovely innocent scent.



This miscarriage malarky is a bitch. It confounds the dictionary in my brain. I want to wish him a Happy Birthday, but it technically isn't a birth day. It's a loss day, but that doesn't fit either because on this day I got to see and hold my sweet boy for a brief moment. So, what does one call it? I have heard "brutiful" thrown around and it fits but only kinda. Happy Brutiful Day? Maybe it will grow on me. Maybe not.

As I said above, I do not believe love dies. I still have mad love for baby Beckett, 4 years after saying hello and goodbye. It is a beautiful thing. If you stay open to that love, it can and will transform your life completely. Out of sadness, confusion and pain, a new life and deeper understanding was born. For that I will be forever grateful

Beckett, baby boy. I hold you in my heart. You bring me joy and I love believing that you and Gramma are hanging out right now...giggling over the mismatched pajama/tortilla chip/couch potato situation I am currently in. You changed my life in such a aching, beautiful way. KISSES!

To Grams: I love you so much. Hug that sweet baby boy for me...and if there is anyway to send me a picture or a video of him laughing that would be rad. Thanks!

To all the doctors that advised abortion over and over: I still fight the urge to poke your eyes out...but I forgive you. Down Syndrome is not to be feared. People are not to be discarded. No one is perfect and to quote the beloved Dr Seuss:
"A person's a person, no matter how small."

To all the loved ones that comforted me with the idea that we dodged a bullet....I love you so much and I know you were trying to love me through a tough situation. Beckett was never a bullet to be dodged. Beckett was/is a perfect blessing just the way God made him.

To all the LADIES! To every woman given the devastating news during pregnancy that something might be different about their baby. To the woman struggling after a difficult diagnosis. I totally understand. I was scared, I was blindsided, I felt unprepared, inept and completely alone. Take a deep breath and please read the following post from an amazing adoptive mama, it spoke to my heart. IF you are worried about how a child with special needs will change your life and/or the lives of your family read this, reach out; you are not alone.

"If you're thinking about adopting a kid whose earning potential is $0, who has zero chance of becoming a Nobel Prize winner, or a CEO, whose greatest accomplishment in life might be learning to play peekaboo or holding onto his stuffed bear, and you're wondering how it will affect your other, more typical kids, then please listen to what I'm about to say, and know I mean it with all of my heart: Love will grow in your house in ways you couldn't even contemplate. Your perspective of success and the value of human worth will evolve so fast that you won't believe it's possible. You'll see your kids grow in compassion, in thoughtfulness, in tenderness, in love, in patience in understanding, in wisdom, in tolerance, and in hope, in ways that nothing else can cause. And one day, you'll realize that the kid who doesn't speak, who doesn't walk, who doesn't "do" anything, has done more for your family in helping them see Jesus than any church service, book, song, or anything else ever could, and that same kid is just as much an essential and productive and involved member of your family as everyone else and you won't be able to understand why other people don't see him the way you all do, why they don't hear his different noises and automatically translate that into English, or see his facial expressions and know exactly what he's trying to convey, and you'll feel sorry for everyone else that's living the "American dream" life with 2.5 typical kids because they are missing out on the greatest joy in life."

To all the Mamas that have lost babies. I feel you. Never feel like you can't talk about it. You are NOT ALONE! Your baby lives and loves on. Find the people that can bear this with you!  If you dont have that yet....email me! I am here!

To all the sister-friends: Bear with your sisters. Listen until you cant listen anymore....and then listen some more. Open your heart and share life with your lady friends. Embrace this journey with your fellow sisters. Walk beside them and let them walk beside you.

To all the awesome Adoptive Mamas out there: Easy is boring! :) Messy is beautiful!  You have shown me courage, compassion, you rock my world and when /if I grow up I want to be so much more like you! Keep on keeping on and thank you for sharing this journey with me and my little family!

To all those considering adoption.....DO IT! SERIOUSLY....and....have you seen this amazing boy?

Marv (1)
Meet Marvelous Marv. 
                                                                                               




Happy Beckett Day everyone!  



Sunday, November 8, 2015

On my knees

Halloween is one of my most favorite days of the year. I had planned to dress up as Ace Ventura, ala tutu...
but then my beloved Grams had a stroke and passed away on Halloween day. Yes...massive bummer.

Grams is 91 in this picture. Isn't she stunning?!?!?

I had made the 10 hour trek to see her before she went and I was just going through the motions with my kids on Halloween. I could not muster enough oomph for Ace, as required and so I ended up as this. I kinda, sorta went as myself.

Well, it has been 8 days since my dear Grams has left us and I am nursing swollen eyes and a hive covered neck. THAT is what I get for letting my true colors show. All of that green has done a number on me. No bueno.

I have a monumental birthday coming up this week. It's a biggie. I have been dieting and planning for months. I want to look GOOOOOOD for this birthday. I feel pressured to really rock this one. I have not celebrated a birthday of my own since having chitlins and I am making up for it with this shindig. Makeup, nice dress, friends, drinks, dancing. THIS is going to be EPIC.

My hubs gave me the afternoon to go to my favorite store to buy a dress for the big night out. Score! And without kids? Oh yea...I was psyched!

I went! I saw! I tried on a dress without my boys trying to wrestle in the dressing room....I fit into a size 6. Ladies. For real; let us stop and let that sink in because honestly that is a miracle. My booty has it's own area code. Yes, I had dieted, not so well recently, yes I had been working on this for ages....but nature is nature. Even today the booty is unreal. And here it was in a 6. It fit like a glove especially over the booty so I decided I really needed an 8. With none in stock, I left empty handed. The goal is to look amazingly hot after all, not for sale. I attempted to make up for the no dress situation with shoes.
I found no joy at the shoe store either but I was still high on the fact that I fit into a size 6; so pssht. Who cares.

Life was good, the drive without my rabid children was quiet and fun so I decided to make an unscheduled stop on the way home thinking that the perfect dress could still be found. This is where the day went pear shaped. Yes, just like me. Pear. Shaped.

After perusing 10 or more shops in the pouring rain, I ended up in a shop.  There was a dress. Lovely. Black. Unique. A tad on the stiff side. Why was it so stiff? Starched. Who wants a stiff dress? Could I move in it? I do intend to get down with my bad self....so...um....to try it on or not.

I caved. I had to try it on. I grabbed a size 8, not pressing the miraculous 6 luck.....and headed for the dressing room. One quick tug and the dress was on. Now, the sleeves were snug, not the snug where you must quickly turn the sleeves right way round or risk losing an arm, just a tad snug. Like a constant, intense hug on my upper arms. No biggie. It was cute. It fit like a glove, a starched, stiff glove but it was cute. I turned. I oogled. I turned again.  I did a little dance. No. Sadly it was just too stiff for the night of merriment I had planned. The dress was not coming home with me.

Okay. Wait. Here is the deal. I have a rash on my neck that kept me up all night itching. It's a nice angry welty neck. I may or may not look contagious. When getting ready for church I did not stop and think that my husband would suggest a shopping trip right after church so undergarments and shaving were not at all a consideration this morning. With that in mind I went to my go-to. My all time favorite. My comfortable, 2.5 year old nursing bra. Mmhm...like a sports bra but inifinitely less cool. If I am being brutally honest its more like a really, really  tiny, flesh colored tank top than a bra. I had zero makeup on in hopes that hivey-mac-hiverton would be gone by my birthday. Are you getting the picture yet? I am clearly saving all of my hotness for my birthday night.

So...the dress had to come off. I unzipped the tiny zipper under my armpit and proceeded to try to take the dress off over my head. It had gone on that way, surely it would come off.

It. Would. NOT. Budge.

WHAT THE BLEEP? I did not wrestle myself into the dress. Yes, the arms were snug. As I tried and tried and contorted, I could not lift the dress over my shoulder blades. I stopped. I started. I stopped. This went on for longer than I care to admit.

I eventually realized I was stuck. Well and truly stuck in the stiffest dress in the history of the world.

With a face as red as my hive-covered neck, I went in search of the dressing room attendant to help me. OH WAIT...the dressing room was literally in the middle of the shop. I had to walk about 10 feet to the register to ask for assistance in the dressing room. I was so calm...I am still proud of that phrase. "Assistance in the dressing room." Sounds simple enough.

The employee follows me to the dressing room where I whirl around to face her and whisper "I am stuck  in this dress."

Of course she did not hear me so I got to repeat myself.

Her eyes widened and she pushed both of us all the way into the dressing room but did not close the door all the way. At that point, I realize that she might be 5'2" with heels on. My heart sank as I also sank to my knees. With my arms raised in supplication I began mumbling non-stop about how strange that I was able to easily put the dress on.....and apologies about the situation and my bra; clearly intent on making the situation as embarrassing as possible.

Little employee tugged and yanked and grunted (NOT KIDDING) until that dress came off, leaving angry red marks on my arms. Now they match my neck too. Awesome.

I thanked her profusely for her help and I got dressed quickly, unable to look at myself in the mirror as I readied myself for the worst walk of shame ever.

I took a deep breath and exited the safety of the dressing room. The employee that helped me was at the register again with another employee. They were smiling and watching me.

I thanked her again.

They were still smiling and watching me. Of course they were!

I couldn't  just leave. They were watching me still. I had to say something.

"So, I don't think I am going to buy that dress. Thank you, though. It's uh...sure...cute!"

I managed to walk to the door. It may have resembled race-walking but I did not run.

I may be wearing jeans, a t-shirt and my nursing bra on my birthday night. Perhaps that is as it should be, it is much more ME. As much as I would love to wow people with my super hotness despite my old age....I refuse to find myself on my knees again in pursuit of that.
I love you Gramma! I hope you did NOT see my awesomeness today!


Sunday, March 22, 2015

Grace and Waterproof Mascara

Dear Diary,

Mama is about to unload. I am hoping it makes sense.

Oh, the changes and blessing that God has brought with our move, it boggles my mind the ways that my life has changed and improved. I have been given some amazing friends that are on a similar path to mine. Being present with them on their journey has been eye opening, it has made me more mindful of my own journey. This is a blessing and a curse. Self awareness can be humiliating and painful. I prefer to face the embarrassment then to bury my head...so I get what I get.

******I feel rushed to get this all out as I should be frosting cupcakes and preparing my house for the party that should be happening here in a few short hours. So, again, bear with me as I attempt to spat this all out and make poetry out of my gibberish. *****

These friends of mine are so incredible that it makes me wonder WHY they are my friends. Without thinking, I fear I have been eager to show them all the ways that I suck and the multitude of reasons why they would be crazy to be my friends at all (((mixed in with my inherent awesomeness, of course.))) And yet, they stay. ((perhaps because despite all of my crappiness, I love them immensely and I can be quite entertaining at times.))

I am humbled and grateful and nervous about that. Clearly I have some attachment issues. Yes.

Captain Obvious, struck like a lightening bolt of clarity today showing me that people near and dear to me are exhibiting similar behaviors. Aha moment. I sadly do not always react well to behaviors I am guilty of myself. Sigh.

This morning I went to church with this Aha moment marinating in my head and a list of people to offer my Mass up for.

As anyone with children knows, Mass with kids is a circus. I had the good sense to sit front and center this morning so the whole congregation could enjoy our three ring circus today. And a circus it was. well circus with a healthy dose of WWF style toddler wrestling.

Anywho...the snippets of Mass that I caught were few and far between and honestly fell on my deaf ears.

 And then someone from the choir began to sing this:

And I wept.

Openly.

Mhhm...because all our WWF Circus needed today was a weeping Becki. I thank God for waterproof mascara.

I bring my ugly and unworthy self to God every day. And HE still love me. ME. ME? He who sees ALL of my fails. All of my wounds. All of my weakness. All of my ugly. Despite all the ways I distract myself from talking to HIM. Despite the fact that sometimes all I have to offer is crap.

How can we even begin to comprehend that? As my boys came back from Sunday School to find their Mama weeping, aha moment number 2 whacked me upside the head. As I hugged the boys that strive to drive me stark raving mad every single day, as I hug the boys that trust me despite all of my parenting fails, as I let myself feel all the motherly love that I have for them, I started to grasp just a teeny bit just how LUCKY I am. To be seen. To be on this journey to the ONE who loves my in such a way that I cannot even fathom it.

Your grace is enough.

Well, YOUR grace and waterproof mascara.

The end. (Kind of. I will work towards that being then end, after I spend a lifetime trying to understand this and simply let go of everything else.)

I openly thank all that are putting up with me on this journey. I love you all more than I can say.

This Lent is really quite amazing.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Away.....In a Manger.

I don't cry. I don't wallow. I don't remember the date he was due. I mean, what is a due date anyways, i have never gone into labor and delivered a baby ON a due date.. . it is simply a number. I don't count days.  I DO send love every time he crosses my mind and I squeeze my babies here on Earth. Other than that I do not actively mourn Beckett. It has been 3 years.

Even after 3 years, the day is heavy. Just heavy. It is as if my body remembers that moment, holding my sweet baby in my hand. My entire body hunching over the sweet baby that fit in the palm of my hand. I know this is graphic. But my body, my heart still holds Beckett in my hand on this day every year. That is my reality.

Grief and loss...well these beasts are tough for me. Especially with Beckett and Lazarus. The loss of a child that I so desperately want to hold and tickle and nurture affects every facet of my day. I struggle to picture Beckett in heaven, which for me is an integral part of letting go. I struggle to picture him at all. I can remember counting his ten perfect fingers and toes. Stroking his minuscule body, but I cannot hear his laughter, remember his squishy
scent or picture his smile. How hard it is to grieve without that. How devastating it must be to grieve once you HAVE all of that in your heart and mind.


I know Christmas is over, but is it ever REALLY over? I like to stretch the Christmas holiday out as long as I can without appearing too nutty. So Christmas is slowly disappearing from my living room. One knick- knack at a time.

As I was putting away my Kenyan banana leaf Nativity set, I dropped baby Jesus. GASP! Major party foul!   I instructed my boys that dropping baby Jesus was an enormous no-no. They both looked at me like "Duh! No one drops baby Jesus but you, Mom." I thought eye rolls didn't appear until teen years. . ..I was wrong.

To further drive this point home (I am not sure why I went on this tangent, but I did.) I demonstrated how to be ever so gentle with my porcelain Nativity Set. You, know... The one I keep up high and out of reach. They "oohed" over the angel as they stroked her wings. They held Mary so gently.

And then Eli asked to hold Baby Jesus. I didn't hesitate, putting him in the palm of Eli's hand.

And it hit me.

My baby Jesus fits in the palm of my hand just as Beckett did.
Just.
The.
Same.


I felt my body hunch in that familiar way, wanting to hold HIM with every inch of me. To protect and love. I could easily count His precious fingers and toes. I was suspended in my heartbreaking moment of loss.

What a gift. To have such a poignant reminder that when I yearn to hold Beckett, I CAN hold Jesus. In my heart and in the palm of my hand.


I am not sure that Nativity is coming down any time soon. NUTTY? Hmm....do. not. care.


Merry Christmas to all my loves!


Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Hairy, Scary, Fairy

I use Facebook as I am too lazy to pick up the phone to keep up with my friends and family. Most of the time it brings me joy. Last night it brought such sadness. The news has eclipsed my need to write a long overdue update on the boys and the accounting of our recent sojourn in Arizona. Mayhaps that will come later.

Lisa Peters Harris finished her battle with cancer yesterday. She fought with grace, dignity, laughter and loads of love. I did not know her well and had not kept up with her after high school; but when your graduating class has a whopping 40 members you cannot help but KNOW your fellow classmates. Lisa was always a bright light. She had a ready smile and a heart for adventure.

I watched her fight on facebook. I saw her complete Hood to Coast this year. I was blown away. She was a force to be reckoned with. I just KNEW that if anyone could kick cancer's ass, it would be Lisa. I regret that I placed that heavy honor squarely on her shoulders. She lived with dignity and grace until the end and the outpouring of love is overwhelming evidence of a life well lived.

I was so blown away by the news that I could not sleep last night. I prayed. And prayed. And cried.

And when I finally fell asleep I had an epically long dream about chin hair. Namely, my chin hair. Yes....work that one out. Please?



Lucky for me, Opie woke up no less then 2.5 million times last night. Therefore, I had 2.5 million chances to dream a different dream. And yet, every time sleep came again, the tweezers were a-flying.
Needless to say....I woke up exhausted.

AND....
I woke up with the realization that something was definitely missing in my life.


A hair fairy.

Clearly this house needs this fairy FAR more than a tooth fairy. Tooth fairy....pfffft.

I promise to sleep on my back if said hair fairy would visit my house.


As I am pretty sure this would not be a look I would be okay with.



Please join me in keeping Lisa's beautiful family in your thoughts and prayers.