Happy Hooligans…

Well, many of you may know.  Many may not.

We return to Poland in one month.  EXACTLY.

AAAAAAHHHHHH!

Time is running out.

This is a super busy month for our family.  Not only are we packing up a home and preparing a container to send…

Not only are we trying to help our two littles overcome nasty breathing problems…

Not only are we seeing our daughter finish machine-pitch softball, junior chorus, and her 2nd grade school year…

Not only are we finishing our quarterly newsletter IMPACT for our foundation while running an international foundation…

Not only are we…

You get it.  The list is long and goes on and on and on.

But I am also starting to prepare my son’s 2nd birthday party.

He turns two in two weeks.  No.  He won’t remember it.  But I will.  His sister will.  His dad will.  His cousins will.  His grandparents will.

And, with that, I am looking—looking for inexpensive (we have ENOUGH expenses at the moment, eh?!) ways to have 2-year-old fun.

That is when I ran across this unbelievable gem.  Wait.  Let me say it again—GEM!

Please.  Don’t take my word for it—go here yourself and see!  It’s called the Happy Hooligans.  Here is her site:  http://happyhooligans.ca/

In about 1 hour of searching, I have found a gazillion brilliant and inexpensive ways for the kids to celebrate our Miracle Max as he turns two.  And they are all creative activities.  Outdoor.  And messy.  Messy, of course, is the best!

Now…in honor of my little unbelievably cute miracle’s upcoming 2nd birthday, I’d like to share a few of my favorite photos with you of my buddy as he prepares to exit his 1st year and enter his 2nd.

XO for now…happy hooligan hunting!

b

1794521_10152308060759050_2051990808_n

LVAZ-1459

adamaxjosieeaster

DSC_0322

1653870_10152370414694050_391898298_n

1610035_10152369360704050_1373409288_n

DSC_0410

Why is he a miracle, you may ask…

Because he fought hard to make it into the world and even harder to stay here in the world.

Every day, because of our little man, we look at the rising sun with a new appreciation for this life God has given us.  It is a gift.  A fragile, fragile gift.  And no one knows how long it is given to us.  So, we celebrate!  And this May it’s our turn to celebrate him.  Maxwell.  Turning 2!  Time runs, friends.  Time runs!  Just like Maxwell.

 

I Am a Tiger That Has Earned Her Stripes. Roar!

(Warning:  If you are uber sensitive, you may not find me funny today.)

Here goes…

You know, here I was minding my own business, when something happened.  A guy—in a black Jeep—with two kids in his car—riding on my tail—gave me The Finger!   Yes, I am sure you know which finger I speak of.

Now, let me put this out there in the beginning.  If you are looking for my blog to be a comforting blog with chirping birds and melodious tunes of hymns of old, where your very soul is lifted up to the heavens and you are challenged to your core to be as golden as the streets of heaven.  Well, if that’s what you’re looking for, you are definitely at the wrong site.

Yes, I am a pastor’s wife.  And, yes, I fully believe in Jesus—he’s awesome.  Totally my Savior.  So thankful for grace.  So appreciative of mercy.  Believe wholly in miracles—my son is one!  He almost died, you know.  And, if you didn’t know, now you do.  Yep…God rocks in my heart!  God rocks in our home!  God is the very essence of WHY we exist to live and serve.  Big God fan here!  I heart God.

But—I am not your docile Christian Woman Blogger that will encourage your sweet and gentle spirit.  I, probably much to my husband’s dismay, will encourage your sense of Roar!  And entice you to be loud and boisterous and adventurous.  And I’ll encourage messy.  Messy is impressive.

I do hope, however, that I entice you into having your own opinions and looking at the dirty glass and seeing that, despite the grime, your glass is still half full.

I do hope, however, that I inspire you to be all that you can be…or just be in pajamas. Pajamas are in—sometimes at least.

I do hope, however, that I send you into this very day with a sense of great purpose-be it small or large-with an impressive roar!

Anyhow—back to my jeep encounter.  Let me share what I learned through this moment from this aggressor of a man.

First of all, I would like you to know that the incident took place when I was slowing down, with my right blinker on, ready to turn into my driveway.  And that’s when I saw him…The Jeep Man barreling down the street.

Yikes!

He made me do something crazy…I had to swerve off the road.  And then I did it, I laid on my horn.

Unfortunately, the horn of my car sounded like a little kitty cat.  “Meow.  Meow.  Meow.”

And so I did it again, just in case he didn’t hear my lame horn, “Meow.  Meow.  Meow.”

So much for the horn of this car, eh?

But then the barreling, raging Jeep Man did something—he slammed his already torpedo-ish Jeep also over on the side of the road and blared his horn back at me, “BIG JEEP BEEP!  BIG JEEP BEEP!  BIG JEEP BEEP!”

My little meow-er horn had nothing on his “HONK!  HONK!”

But he didn’t just stop there—he then extended his burly arm straight up into the air and gave me the sign that I was “NUMERO UNO!”

That’s right, man.  He signaled to me how GREAT I really am.

“I am Number One!  I am Number One!”

And I did the only thing I could think to do back.

I pulled out my pointer finger and aggressively started tapping the center of my forehead with it!

That’s right, baby—You have a hand signal—Well, I do too!

Pointer finger tap.  Pointer finger tap.  Pointer finger tap (Center of the forehead is key—in Poland they do this for “Think.  Think.”  It’s our way of driving over there, man).

And that’s when his face changed.  It went from growl to complete confusion.  Perhaps he thought he was messing with a mental patient.  Better get out of there. Pronto!

And as fast as he barreled on the behind of my tiny car—he barreled away…leaving me a souvenir.  RAGE!

But, don’t worry, it only lasted a mere blissful moment.

And here’s where I learned my lesson from the Jeep Man…

I have already let bitterness have too big of a foothold in my life over the past 16 years (I’ll spill those beans at a later date).  So, I did what I have come to find out is way more AWESOME than holding onto bitterness…I let it go!

It felt great!

And letting go of my rage from the Jeep Man.

It felt great!

Although…To be honest, folks, because that’s what I am all about—before I “Let Go” this picture of my daughter did flash through my mind…

Image

Along with the slogan, “Oh, yeah.  Take that, Jeep Man!”

Giggle.

Kidding.  Really.

But it was a funny thought, eh?!

*Remember—my daughter has grown up in Poland and is not accustomed to the meaning of the middle finger.  Therefore the above picture is simply a 6-year-old being…Well, gross.  Silly.  Six.  What can I say?  You already know I’m not the greatest parent ever.  I guess this goes to prove it ;)*

Hope you, the GREATEST PARENTS EVER, remember to just let it go!  Release rage, find humor in the situation, and have a GREAT day.

And may the Jeep Man not cross your path.