When your 10-yr-old daughter is surrounded by machine guns and stands her ground…

We went through two metal detectors before we could enter the areas of the Western Wall (under Jewish control) and then the Temple Mount (under Muslim control) in Israel.  It wasn’t too bad—except we forgot we had a knife for making sandwiches.  Big oops.  Gracious security warded off angry men security and allowed us to keep our sandwich making materials—including the knife.

As soon as we entered the Temple Mount, bought by King David to build the Temple upon thousands of years ago, I was accosted.  I had read it was conservative, so I wore a dress and scarf and tights and boots for the day. Apparently if you can see the boots and the dress, you are a harlot.  Forget the fact that all of the other touring women are in trendy skinny  bun-hugging jeans…my boot showing dress was enough to stop the entire Mount.

So, there I was, on my way to becoming a harlot on the Mount…getting accosted for my boots showing, having to cover and hobble the rest of the tour while having a scarf tied around my boots.

Can you say troublesome?  I can.

But I entered the Temple Mount area and, therefore, chose to abide respectfully by the rules brought to us by the machine-gun wielding security there.

We toured the area and began our ascent to leave.  That is when it happened.

What you need to know is that the Mount is only open 2 different hours throughout the day because it is the Muslim holy ground and has extremely strict rules.  So, as the hour was ending when we needed to leave, we were doing just that.  Leaving.

On our way out, however, one young gentleman asked my 10-year-old to take his photo.  She obliged politely and waited for him to get in position when two machine-gun wielding men rushed her and the 2nd tourist.  A lot of loud yelling took place.  I am helpless mom on the other side of chaos while my 10-year-old and the random tourist are surrounded by guns.

A few moments pass, the security move, Adelyne takes the photo, the random tourist is hauled off with the machine guns, and we grab Adelyne and practically run out into the nearest hallway, where Rich is then given the task to get rid of the world’s worst tour guide—oh the gut-wrenching laughter stories I’ll tell later about him—and we sit for Turkish coffee and delights in a darkened hallway surrounded by non-machine gun wielding men and telling Adelyne how brave she is to stand her ground…

Even amongst the chaos of adventure!

Do you want to wax your mustache?????

Are you freaking KIDDING me?!

First I turn FORTY—as if that is NOT bad enough—and then I go to get my eyebrows waxed when the lady doesn’t seem to think that IT (turning 40) is FITTING enough–but now she must POINT OUT and ASK…

“ARE YOU ALSO HERE TO GET YOUR MUSTACHE WAXED????”

My laser eyes and deadly stare did NOTHING to hinder her from asking again, “AND YOUR MUSTACHE????”

I gasped as if I still have my 18-year-old glow and youth and not a STRAY whisker ANYWHERE on my face and answered her, “MY MUSTACHE????!!!!  I don’t have a mustache!!!!!”  And huffed loudly as I threw my awesome body (okay, lowered myself gently due to my aching back) onto the waxing lounge and pointed out that “I DO NOT, under any circumstances, WANT CRAZY TRENDY EYEBROWS!  JUST SIMPLE WAXING…please.”

Before I got off the chair, she, DAFT AS A…????  Well, who knows what—something daft… ASKED AGAIN, “Are you sure you don’t want the mustache waxed???”

Yes, LADY!  Very sure…

Right?

Or, I mean, do I have a mustache????

Go to mirror…

Peer closely…

Squint, really, since my eyes are not the best.

Still can’t see.  Turn glasses crooked on my nose so that I can see (all bi-focal style)…and re-peer.

Surely that is not a mustache, it’s simply glitter, right?!?!?!  A light glistening above my upper lip????

Right!

And, so with indignance, I walk PROUDLY out of that salon…

Mustache and all.

 

When sanity restoration begins and you already start crying…

I have been LONGING…literally LONGING for sanity for the last several years while my head has been spinning wildly in all directions except on.

And then it happened two days ago.  I took a shower—door unlocked, of course and open, while the two littles were awake and propped in front of the TV.

The thing is…I didn’t rush.  I washed my hair.  Shaved my legs…both don’t normally happen in the midst of my “ARE THE KIDS TURNING ON THE OVEN AND BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE AND RUNNING WITH SCISSORS” showers that normally take place.  One definitely has to go.  Mostly the shaving legs.  Good thing I live in Europe 😉

It was amazing.  And I didn’t feel stressed.  I occasionally would shout out, “ARE YOU OKAY????”  To which they would respond, “We’re OKAY!” And then I would enjoy the next moment of sanity…

And just as I was beginning to get nostalgic for the moments when I had to worry and live in paranoia with the “I CANT LIVE WITHOUT MOMMY” seconds that occupy my every waking moment, two littles come running in shouting, “I WANNA SHOWER WITH MOMMY!!!!!”

Clothes are stripped.  Diapers are stripped.  And I finish rinsing my hair just in time to hop out and throw two naked bottoms in—albeit crying naked bottoms—saying stuff like, “BUT I WANNA SHOWER WITH YOU, MOMMA!”

And as much as I enjoyed my freedom and sanity for those 5 minutes in the shower—I enjoyed hearing those words even more.  Because those were the longest 5 minutes of my life—knowing that my sanity was on its way to being restored—and freedom would soon again be mine.

The freedom I have been screaming for the last many years—is on the horizon—and now I’m so sad about it.

MOMMYHOOD.

Man it’s a crazy conundrum of nonsensical emotions that keeps me screaming, crying, laughing, hugging, or spinning.

AND I WANT THEM ALL TO STAY THE SAME…

Yet I want to shower in peace, too.

Sometimes there is clearly no winner in the mom game 😉

Let’s Make Polish Nalesniki and Kale Smoothies!

Well, wouldn’t you know…I must not know how to make pancakes—as no baking soda is needed.  And I forgot one key ingredient in the nalesniki batter when spouting out what it takes, milk!  But, in the end, it doesn’t really matter because I look at the recipe when making my batter so what is needed makes it and what isn’t to be there remains out.  PHEW!

How did this start…Well, I was in the kitchen making the nalesniki and my house was unusually quiet.  3 kids were upstairs playing school and my littlest, Josephine, was at the doctor with her daddy.  My dogs were outside, and I didn’t even have the radio on.  That’s when I decided to just hit record and start talking through my process.  Which is quite apparent due to my extremely ELEGANT appearance and fashionista stylin’ (big wowzer!!!!).

And, OOPS…the batter was already made.  But, don’t worry, here’s the link to the recipe I use:

Polish Nalesniki (it includes a savory recipe and a sweet recipe)

For this video, I was making the sweet recipe, and I had doubled it so it could feed 6.

Anyhow, enjoy!  Or, as they would say in Polish, Smacznego!

We sure did.

And, let me assure you…I am not pregnant.  This camera added about 6 months of pregnancy pounds.  I mean—I have weight to lose but not 6 months of baby (smile and wink)!

xo b

Kidnapping a Cat is a Gift from God???

Seriously.  My decade daughter kills me.  She is hilarious.  And always full of so much hope!

She was out exploring the other day.  We live in a village and they can still do things like take off into the wilds on their bikes and chase their dreams.  Get in a little trouble.  And seek out adventures.

So that is exactly what she and her BFF were doing…Out on bikes, exploring farmlands, soaring past forests, playing at the school playground, and then stopping at the local soda shop for a cold drink.

It’s like a storybook.

And she is living it.

As everyone knows—storybooks also have happy endings.

Unless you write Adelyne’s (my decade daughter).

Here’s what happened…

Ring-ring.

My phone rang.

“Hi, Adelyne!”  (I obviously know what number she has).

“Hi, Momma!”  And then she continues.  By the mere tone in her voice, I definitely know Something.Is.Up!

“Momma!  We are at the noclegi and this itty bitty cat came up to us.  It’s about 5 weeks old, and it’s so skinny and it needs help!”

“Adelyne!  Stop touching the cat.  Does it have bugs all over it?  Fleas?”

Believe me…I have dealt with 3 dogs that had fleas.  It was not something I wanted my daughter coming home with.

“No, Momma…It doesn’t have fleas. It’s so sweet and all alone.  It needs our help!  Please, Momma!  Can I bring it home?!”

“Adelyne, we are NOT going to keep a cat…”

“Momma, we don’t have to keep it.  I can take care of it while making Lost Kitten posters, hanging them up everywhere…”

I am SUCH a sucker for ALL animals.

“Okay, Adelyne…but we are making posters for it and finding it a home.”

“Okay, Momma.”

Sure enough, before long, the girls show up with a kitten in their arms.

Except it wasn’t a kitten.

It was a full-grown cat.

Beautiful.

Black.

Sleek.

Fat.

And just cuddled up in their arms—completely tame.  Not a wild cat.

And purring.

“See, Mom?!  See the kitten?!”

I stare.

Blankly.

“Where’s the kitten?”

“This is it!”

“Adelyne—that’s not a kitten!  That’s a cat,” I begin stroking its head.

Adelyne and her BFF looking quizzically at the kitten/cat, “But see how skinny it is, Momma?!”

I poke at the belly of the cat and my finger bounces back.  Yep.  Plenty of fat.

“Adelyne, that cat is not skinny.  It’s clean.  It’s fat.  And it is super friendly.  This is probably some poor girl’s cat.  She’s probably at home right now wondering where her precious family pet went.”

And to exaggerate my point, I emphasized, “She’s probably CRYING!”

The two “decade” girls look at each other with WIDE eyes—astonished that their rescue is NOT a rescue but a kidnapping, and then they say,

“But we thought this cat was a gift from God!”

I burst out laughing…

A gift from God?

A kidnapped black cat.

Yes.  This is my life.

Needless to say, they walked the cat back towards the soda shack (noclegi) when I got another phone call, “Mom! Mom!”

“Yes…” I say wondering, “WHAT IN THE WORLD IS NEXT?!”

“The cat jumped out of our arms and climbed a TREE and now the branch is breaking!”

“Adelyne, YOU ARE NOT TO CLIMB THE TREE TO GET THE CAT!”

“But the branch is BREAKING!”

“ADELYNE MARGUERITE…”

Everyone knows it is NOT a good thing when your momma uses TWO NAMES.

“Um, yes, Momma?”

“A cat that can climb up—can climb down.  Get your bike (which they had to stash somewhere so that they could bring the kidnapped cat home) and come home.”

“But the poor cat…”

“Will survive!”  I finish.

A gift from God?

A kidnapped black cat.

From a local soda shop.

I am dying, my friends.

But aren’t we ALL like that sometimes—hopeful for something that crosses our paths, sometimes distorting the truth of what we think we see?

I know I am.

Therefore, I will end with this great reminder,

“Keep our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith…”  Hebrews 12:2

 

When You Don’t Want Your Children To Grow Up

“Now, Maxie?” Josephine shouted.

“Not yet, GoGo!” Max responded.

They were sitting on two little roller coasters that you push with your feet, waiting one for the other to go down the little slope.

And, because her big hero brother said “Not yet” she waited and said, “Okay, Maxie…”

Then he would count, “One, two, three, GO!”

Their chubby little feet would paddle the ground and they would begin the slight decline down the coaster to soar onto the open floor.

Smiles and joy and squeals accompanying their little rides.

Then one would shout, without hesitation, “Let’s do it again!”

And off they’d push their cars to the top to begin again.

Friends—my two Littles are utterly exhausting.  I’m like super tired.  And they fight.  And they roll on the ground.  And they don’t like their food to touch—or when I cut their toast the wrong way.

My eyes are held open by VERY strong coffee…

But it’s ALL so worth it.

And my stomach is already nostalgic for the future loss of my Littles.

My decade daughter, as she calls herself, was once my Little…and I enjoyed every minute of it (let’s not relish in her own toddler tantrums that also split my hairs 😉 )…

She, in all of her innocent wonder, was my sunshine on any cloudy day.  And, believe me, in Poland there are a LOT of cloudy days.

Now she’s the epitome of beauty and grace.  She is tall and slender and lovely with a touch of awkward.  And growing.  She will, without any doubt in my mind, be a beautiful, successful, creative, and compassionate young lady—I already see that in her.

But it does not mean I don’t miss my Sweet Adelyne that used to skate on flour and make tea parties for her daddy with all of her dollies.

She has phased into young lady—that, very thankfully, still likes to occasionally play dolls, too!

And as my little miracle approaches his fourth birthday, I think.  No, I know that I am already missing him.

My toddler, naked bottom Max—without a care in the world.

Can I squish him into Little-ness forever?

Probably not—but I capture every moment of each of our days—the good and bad—on the reel of my on-going memory maker—the core of my heart…because I know that, as they grow, I will enjoy each new phase—but it will not mean that I will not miss the last one.

Josephine asked Maxie if he was ready—and he said “Not yet.”

Maxie—I am not ready, yet, either.

Please don’t grow.

But just like they paddled their feet and took off, I know what fate awaits me…

Their wild ride.

***

Photo credit:  Inga Rurek

The Original Michelangelo David Versus MY DAVID!

Look, I completely recommend seeing the original David.  There is absolutely nothing like it in the world.

Here is what you need to know:

It is located at the university—who knows where?  On some side street with no line, whatsoever, to get in.  And you will get very lost trying to walk to it.  But you can make it (we did!).  And it was worth every wrong turn.

And, as utterly amazing the sculpture is, I am not quite sure that it is as well mastered or divine as my very own David—my David that appeared out of nowhere to me yesterday while I was taking one of only TWO potty breaks that I actually had from the entire day.  Seriously, folks…one of two!

And here my David comes sauntering in (because of course I MUST take my potty breaks with the door open since I have two toddlers at home), completely naked.  (He can go from dressed to naked in about 3 seconds flat) And full of becoming his very own masterpiece.  Because, of course, as ALL LIFE WITH TODDLERS HAS IT, he was coloring with markers (washable, don’t worry), while I was finally sitting on the porcelain throne for ONLY the second time for the entire day.

My DAVID!  My Masterpiece!

And, I must admit, as divine as I believe the original Michelangelo to be, I think my David may be just as super awesome!

So, of course, after I got off the potty—you know—time’s up for dear ol’ mom, I decided to do my own photoshoot taking similar pictures like I took of the original David in Florence.

Except this David is a Brooke and Richard Masterpiece of God, who battled his own Giant (not Goliath but yet his Goliath of impending death), and now resides not at  Galleria dell’Accademia in Italy but in #villagelife Poland.

You scroll through the photos and decide which David is the greater masterpiece (and, if you choose the original, perhaps don’t tell this momma).

Enjoy!

Let’s begin with the right hand of David that is holding the stone that is used to defeat the Giant Goliath:

And now the marker that is held in the right hand of my very own David used to defeat the sanity of mom (notice how it is even a homemade Crayola marker):

Next up!  The torso of the original David and his glance and piercing eyes, lightly holding the sling that was used to fight Goliath casually slung over his left shoulder:

And now my Masterpiece David, with his young and youthful toddler belly body (full of like 5 bowls of homemade chicken noodle soup) and his left arm up—holding nothing but air (just because I told him to).  Notice my masterpiece is even glancing off to the left:

Lastly, or at least what I will display on my page, the feet of Michelangelo’s David.  Seriously.  This young sculptor was truly an amazing artist, as the feet were even carved to perfection (out of marble):

But, as perfectly as they are carved out of marble, I still think that I find my Masterpiece to be just as perfectly carved.  Here are his feet:

And, of course, while I am sitting at the table type-typing this away, two of my greatest Masterpieces given to me by God, are mere feet away, at the window, creating a cherry-tree robot and a meow-meow (in their vivid imaginations, of course) on what was just moments ago very clean windows.

But, hey!  Who needs windows when I have walking, living, talking, breathing, statue Masterpieces to fill my home?

Not me!

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.  Psalm 139:14

 

When your husband says too much

My husband just arrived home from Taiwan.  I tried to look cute for his arrival.  I won’t say as cute as possible, because by the time I got my daughter out the door to school, let the dogs out, took care of the morning coal furnace, took a quick shower, and dressed/fed/watered two toddlers, I was already running behind for my hour journey to the airport.  I did my makeup in the car and actually went without coffee because I didn’t even have time for that.  No, the world did not end—in case you were wondering.  I suppose I can live without coffee if I must 😉

And we reach the airport a tad late.  No one’s upset. All happy.  Then we head home.

So exciting.  Lots of cuddling and chatting on the couch.

Then out come the fun selfies.  Yes.  I take selfies.

We, being the parents, were being silly.  Goofy selfies left and right.  Then we did what most do—we scrolled through the results.  That’s when my newly returned husband went from being my sweetheart to my nemesis, for this is the selfie, and then I’ll share what he said…

“Oh my!   How many chins do you have there???”

Really, Richard?  Really?

Needless to say, I have one husband for sale.

Any takers?

My Sweet Littles Saying Their Prayers and Dancing on Couches!

You must think that I only have two children with the fact that only Josephine and Maxwell appear to be in my videos.  Sometimes I feel as if I only have two children.  But I actually have three:  Sweet Adelyne, as well.  It’s just that, at 9 years of age, Sweet Adelyne has the most social of social calendars of ANYONE I know.  Not just of 9 year olds. Of anyone—9 or 90—that I know.

It’s awesome fabulous—because, you know, we live in this foreign land called Poland.  And it’s awesome fabulous that my daughter is not a foreigner in this foreign land—she is a Pole.  A proud one.  And she lives her life as a full-blown Polish gal.  Romping, playing, going to school, studying, extra curricular activities, and so forth.

She breathes White and Red.  I am so thankful to God for that!

But that also means when I am at home being Mommy 24/7…(last night daddy actually was home and by 6pm, so we had family pizza night.  twas awesome!)…

Anyhow…As I play this magical and amazing role of Mommy 24/7, I tend to video those subjects most around me:  Which would continue to explain the absence of Adelyne and Richard 🙂  Neither tend to be around me that often…

Hmmm?????  Perhaps it’s me?!  Haha!

Once again, I really hope you enjoy the videos of the Littles that steal my every moment—even my potty breaks.  But they fill my life with such amazing miraculous wonder, I can’t help but love my every minute.

Here continues the sweet adventures of my Littles, Jo and Max!  Enjoy.

GoGo, will you dance with me?  Asks her awesome Big Bro Maxwell!

Trying to get two toddlers that share a room to settle down and pray is oh so stinking sweet!

I walk into the living room and find Max on top of the couch dancing to Christmas music (yes—we’ve been playing it ever since the chill hit the air!).

I wish you all well and lots of warm love, Christmas music, and overall contentment with where God has placed you in life.

xo for now,

b

Wow…Two anniversaries in one month celebrated!

Before I knew it—I clicked on this blog today (my blog—this one you are reading) and realized that I started this And 2 Makes Crazy blogging journey basically two years ago this month!  Wee!  What fun.

And it all began with these first two posts and pictures (click on the highlighted for the post):

And My Husband Made Me Cry

My Husband Had a Combover, and I Almost Didn’t Date Him

So, I decided to see what were the three most viewed photos and posts from the three calendar years of my blogging.

Confusing anyone?! (I started the Blog August 2013…So to date with 3 calendar years:  August 2013, 2014, 2015).

Here you go!  It was a fun stroll down memory lane for me.

Oh—side note—my hubby and I just celebrated (a month early) our 15th anniversary.  YEA FOR US!  If you have followed And 2 Makes Crazy for any period of time, you will know this is a victory.  Because if there is anything that can be said about this blog—it’s that we are honest.  Our marriage from 2012 and after was a real struggle for me.  A lot went into it—and a lot of God’s grace got us through it.

So, happy 15 to us—Brooke and Richard.  I honestly can say that I am SO happy we plowed through the down days and have made it to the other side of our rainbow.  I pray, if you are struggling, that you will keep your head down and your back strong and allow God to pull you through, too!

Anyhow—Before I get to the top 3 photos; blogs read; and clicks outside of And 2 Makes crazy, I want to remind you that you can LIKE And 2 Makes Crazy on Facebook (Yea!) or simply my personal Facebook page and also Follow Me on Instagram, Pinterest, YouTube, and Twitter!  I am not a frequent Tweeter, Pinterest-er, YouTuber, or Instagramer—but I’d love to have you along for the journey anyway!

Also, if you want to walk down memory’s lane for last year’s anniversary surprise my husband had for me, I invite you to read here: Happy Anniversary Hot Stuff

And here:The Takeoff.  Getting out of your comfort zone (and the video to boot!)

Okay—2 years of And 2 Makes Crazy blogging fun!

Most viewed photos for the three Augusts (2013, 14, 15):

1. When we were merely a family of 4

2.  The flying contraption

3.  The nursing momma

 Most read blog posts:

1. I don’t love Jesus.  Can we still be friends?
2. How to be a good wife
3. I broke my bra.  The saga of nursing in America.

Most outside of And 2 Makes Crazy clicks:

1. Porn is a threat to children (Mail Online)
2. 7 Crippling Parenting Behaviors That Keep Children From Growing Into Leaders (Forbes)
3. Poland for Kids:  Poznan and Gniezno (Kid World Citizen)

Once again—Happy double anniversary!

One for the blog—that I have immensely enjoyed writing over the last two years (even though the last year was more sporadic).

Two for 15 years of being married to the man that continues to live in my dreams, Richie!

I wish you all a great end-of-August, and always a great abundance of God’s grace and mercy in your lives as well.

xo b

(Here’s a flashback of me and the Mr.  My better half of Crazy)