a lovegift

Today the air was crisp, the sun was warm, and the sky was a perfect mix of blue and white, wispy clouds. I decided a walk was a mandatory experience and dragged my two kids outdoors. Usually walks go very well with my children. Connor loves to be outside and Sophie, although she protests to begin with, falls asleep and just enjoys the ride. We started off really well, but somewhere between Gramma and Grampa not being home, and Connor wanting to be carried instead of pushed, we experienced a full blown meltdown. 45 minutes later, we had only progressed two blocks down the street and out of pure frustration, I sat down and joined my children in a good cry. No I didn't ball or stomp my feet, or shriek at the top of my lungs, but there were a few hot tears falling down my cheek. 30 minutes later we arrived home and I found an envelope that someone had left on our doorstep and assuming it was a card, put it on the table and got the kids to bed. After taking some time to sit and recoop, I remembered the envelope, and went to open it. (I should maybe put it out there that my husband has not been working since January because of school, and now surgery and money has been tight. We've been doing ok, but after discovering that our tax return -that we were counting on- would be a considerable smaller amount than we planned, we were kinda trusting God to give us wisdom with the money that we do have now. ) When I opened it, I found that some anonymous donor, had left us money and the tears fell freely once more. It is so easy to say "we are trusting God" but quite another thing to actually practice it. He never ceases to provide for us, and yet so many times I've looked at Dave and said, "How are we going to do this?".
How do you properly thank someone when you don't know who they are?
How do you sing praise to a God that you constantly doubt and forget to trust when times are tough?
How do you accept another's generosity and love?
It's humbling, and moving and incredibly heartfelt and although this person may never read this blog, I thank you. From the bottom of my heart...your gift of love put diapers on my kids bums, groceries in the cupboard and hope in our hearts!

I'm a homebody. Always have been, always will be. I like to be at home with my fam. It's comfortable and cozy and I'm surrounded by love, kisses and cuddles. That being said, I love to be out as well. Friends and a social life outside my home are important, BUT I love to come home.

I woke up the other morning and found my 2 yr. old asleep on the floor, beside my 4 mo. old's playpen. What a precious sight to behold first thing in the morning! I love that they are sharing a room now - (even though they get up WAY earlier than before) - because I think it is bonding for them. They wake up and see each other first thing in the morning. They talk to each other, laugh, cry, and often Connor will put toys and books in Sophie's playpen...very cute.
I remember when I was younger, I didn't like being along at night. It wasn't that I was scared of the dark so much... I was just lonely. I didn't want to be on my own. I missed the companionship of my siblings. (One of the great things, for me, about being married is never having an empty bed! :)
I hope for my kids to be friends...really friends. I know that they will have fights, arguments and tough times, but I hope they always have a connection.