The Rogue Rody

Another "Holiday Season" has come and gone. And this past Christmas truly was, in the immortal words of my favorite carol crooner, Donnie Hathaway - a very special Christmas, indeed. My sister flew in on Christmas Eve. We haven't celebrated a major holiday as a family in years. Between her living out West and our military lifestyle keeping us overseas for so long, special holiday gatherings together have been far and in between. Something magical happens when my sister, brother, and I are all together. Besides driving our mother batty with our dry humor, wit, and pun-tastic good times, there is a sense of completeness. Like the feeling of filling a whole in your heart you don't realize is empty.



The only flaw in an otherwise perfect holiday was the disappointment that was supposed to be Isaiah's Big Gift from Santa. It was a Rody Max riding horse, the bigger one, on recommendations from other moms of kids with Special Powers like Isaiah's. It's supposed to promote strength, coordination, and balance. I ordered it in early December in plenty of time for it to get here. Once it arrived UPS, I stowed the box way back in his closet in anticipation of its grand inflation and presentation. What kid's face wouldn't light up at the sight of a pony under the tree on Christmas morning?!

On the morning of Christmas Eve, while all the kidlets were still asleep, I recovered the brown box and headed down to the basement for J to blow it up and find a place for it until the morning. He got on task while I went to work elfing the other loot.

And then he uttered the LAST words you want to hear on Christmas Eve:

Is this for Zay? This is too small for Zay.

Since the Rody is tauted as being able to "grow with your child", I asked him if he had blown it up all the way. But it didn't matter. I knew in that moment, looking over at that horse - a shoo-in for Thumbalina's rodeo - we had been delivered the WRONG pony. One look on the box confirmed my worst suspicions: it was in fact, the original Rody and not the Rody Max which, by the way, costs more than twice the original.

Waiting for their West Coast office to open was nothing short of torture. These things are made in Italy...available for purchase only online as far as I know. And it was Christmas Eve. When I finally got someone on the line, she was very sympathetic. One look at the shipping invoice and their mistake was obvious: the shipping weight in no way matched what should have been in that box, she explained. The Max is considerably heavier (and did I mention twice as expensive?)

She promised they would make it right and get the right philly out the gate and to us the next week. Little consolation on Christmas Eve considering everything was centered around Zay's shiny, new, red pony. I beat myself up for about 10 minutes. Why didn't I check the box carefully when it arrived? Isaiah deserves a big shiny Christmas just like any other kid. Just because he can't distinguish Christmas from any other day of the year doesn't mean he deserves it any less.

And then it hit me, Isaiah is a very blessed little boy. During this Christmas Season, I have been touched by the kindness and generosity of people we know and complete strangers alike. In addition to material things he has received, Isaiah is surrounded by love...every day of the year. And this Christmas he had aunties, an uncle, a granny, cousins, sisters, and parents doting on him. That is worth more than the odds-on winner of the Kentucky Derby whinnying under the tree on Christmas morning.

The Holidays are over, but my Christmas tree is still up. And it will stay up until Rody Max in Red finds his way home to my very special boy.

Giddyup.

Parting Gifts from 2010

Should old acquaintance be forgot...?

I never really understood the meaning of that song. In truth, I never really understood the WORDS to that song. If it's asking whether we should leave our past behind as we move forward into the New Year, my answer would be "not necessarily". Without dwelling on the past, I feel justified drawing from it.

Today, I reflect on the last 12 months of gifts - brought to me courtesy of the Epic Year 2010.

2010 brought me home. Home to my mother. Home to a family I didn't realize was so sorely missed. 2010 brought me to tears. Feelings of loss. Of pain. 2010 brought me to my knees. Praying to the Lord for His guidance and strength. Giving thanks for His love, mercy, and favor. 2010 brought me to my feet. Cheering for my amazing kids. Standing up for myself. Standing up for what is right. 2010 brought me to my senses. Revealed. Renewed. Restored. 2010 brought me out. My circumstances no longer binding me. Free to explore my God-given talents.

They say the present is a gift. I am grateful for the gifts of the past.

A Very Obama Christmas

I didn't take any chances this time. My purse remained obediently in the car. My camera was strapped around my neck like a tourist. The camera bag remained obediently in the car. There was no way I was going to risk delaying my latest tour of the White House to see - and photograph - it at its very Christmas-y finest.

It did not disappoint. From the moment we stepped onto the grounds, through the halls, in every room - the beauty of The Season was breathtaking.

Jesus Take The Wheel

Make a U-Turn if possible.

This, the urging of my navigation system (I've dubbed her "Navi") if for some reason I veer off of her chartered course. She has never steered me wrong. Even when it came down to her or me during our 2009 road trip to Disneyland...even when I think I know better, she is programmed with the insight I just don't have.

I like to think God is a lot like that. I take comfort in it. He has chartered a plan for our lives. And if we listen to Him, we can't go wrong. All of His maps are instantly, constantly updated. He keeps track of all road conditions and on-going construction. And he adjusts our direction accordingly.

He gives us Free Will. We can opt out of His path. Choose our own way. Find ourselves stranded, out of gas, and in a bad neighborhood.

I'm thankful for the "resume route" option on my GPS. One touch to the screen and no matter where I find myself, Navi will reroute me. Recalculate the directions and tell me the most efficient way to my destination.

God is that type of God. And prayer is the key to resuming the route if we get ourselves off course. It's actually the way to stay on course. If we just stop trying to do things our way and let Jesus take the wheel, we'll get where we need to be. Not that there won't be bumps in the road or unexpected pit stops, tire blowouts, or inclement weather. By knowing - accepting - that God is control, we can sit back, relax, and take in a little scenery along the way.

Destination ahead.

Do You See What I See?

So I put it off long enough. Holiday Photo Shoot 2010 was actually a success. Our New Year's cards are ordered (the "Christmas Card" ship has sailed).

Despite my initial apprehension, the kids (read: ISAIAH) cooperated. And before I could morph into Shutterbugzilla, the deed was done. The result is a holiday card I am totally delighted with.

Here are some nuggets that didn't make the cut this year, but still prove what a fun and lovable bunch o' Brownies I have.

The look on his face = something is about to get set OFF




Mariah




My beauties





You know it's a fun shoot when ornaments start sticking to clothing




Naughtiness was afoot




"Lalalalalala! Can't hear you, Mommy. The shoot is OVER."

Beautiful Butterfly

"MyYaYa", my middle cub, turns 11 years-old today. I have learned so much from her. Most importantly ~ how to laugh. She is a riot. And always has been.



Happy Birthday, Sweetness. Watching you transform into the beautiful young lady you are has been a blessing.

Blogworthy

Suddenly, my days are shorter. By stark contrast, my "To Do" list is growing longer. I've had several false starts with Blogging lately.

So, I'm going to call this *ahem*...

Stuff That Happened When I Wasn't Blogging.

Thanksgiving was beautiful. It was the first time in several years that I was able to sit down at my mother's impeccably set table, feeling awful thankful to be together this year.



Isaiah's Knob Saga is finally, blissfully resolved. After contacting the company directly, Andrew (AKA: my Knight in Shining Armor) came through. He UPS'd not only The Knob, but replacement tires, a new "H" harness, tools for installation, and instructions ~ free of charge. Didn't even ask for our insurance. Other companies could learn a lot from this.

The Infamous Knob




Fall weather is definitely here to stay, with winter licking cold at its heels. Today the temperature dropped 20 degrees in 2 hours. J has been scouring the neighborhood for free firewood. And with two fireplaces to fuel, I'll take what we can get.



Too bad we can't chop up the trees in our yard. They were gorgeous as the leaves changed...




...but J and the kids must have blown and raked up 4.5 million bags of leaves.




And alas, my new camera lens has arrived. Haven't had the chance to really break it in yet. But I think I am already in love.






But please don't hold your breath for that Perfect Christmas Card Photo.

Mrs. Roada Rage

On the morning of October 6, 1995 - the day of my wedding rehearsal and just before my manicure - I received my very first driver's license. (Psst: to this day, I have a spotless driving record!)

I had my driving permit since I was 15 plus some odd months, but I wasn't one of those kids who just HAD to get her license the second she turned 16. Maybe I was lazy. Or maybe it's because I had an older sister who drove. Or maybe because my mom thought I was too "flighty" to be trusted behind the wheel. For whatever reason, driving didn't rank high on my priority list during my teen years.

After I graduated from college, my mother bought me a car. Hey, I can take a hint. So I decided to take lessons. Real driving lessons. Elderly Mr. J from Sears Driving School (yes, in some ways I did get my license from Sears), would pick me up once a week and teach me everything I needed to know to pass the state driver's test. We parallel parked--complete with cones and flags. And Day 1, he had me out on I-495...white-knuckling it, I might add. It took 15 years for me to try THAT again.

In between our close calls, Mr. J and I talked. Mostly about Dr. Laura. Mr. J enjoyed listening to her show, so many of our conversations centered around whatever she had been discussing.

What Mr. J could not have prepared me for was the bevy of bad drivers that exist in the real world. Being a new driver of a particular age gave me an advantage in some ways. For one thing, I had a degree of maturity on my side. Nothing is worse than a young, inexperienced, careless, hothead. Unless it's a rude driver. They bring out the worst in me. One minute I am happily singing along to "Wait on the Lord"; the next, I lose my religion. Don't know why I let them get to me.

Didn't realize the extend of my "problem" until one day on the way to school, I heard a little voice from the backseat, "What happened to make you mad, Auntie Sharon?" In that moment, I realized how ridiculous it was for me to give away all my power and composure to idiots on the road. So I'm trying not to take any of it personally. And I'm also trying to refrain from calling them "idiots". But they make it so hard.

WWDLD?*

*What Would Dr. Laura Do?

Presidential Pardon

Apparently, all is forgiven for what I did the last time I was at the White House.

Next month, J and I will be attending a Holiday Open House at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. And they are allowing photography--something that was verboten on our last tour. That alone is worth a TSA-style pat down.

My Photo Carnival "Pick"-Ture

Today I am participating in a Photo Carnival over at Love That Max.

"The Littlest Heroes Project" photographer, Trina Gueck, spent the afternoon of Isaiah's 5th birthday getting to know him. She worked her magic capturing the very essence of my sweet boy in her photography. It's not hard to see why I picked this as my favorite.

See how she caught all that mischief? That head cocked to the side? That infectious grin? All Zaiah. And that independence. Isaiah was learning to walk. See how he's not holding on to the handles on his walker? Eight weeks after this picture was taken, Isaiah let go of that walker for good and stepped out on his own and hasn't looked back. From this photo's perspective, I'm able to see Isaiah as his own person ~ literally a separate, but equally valuable part of our family.

And we are all still here. Standing behind him. Cheering him on.

Deck the Halls...or Me

Christmas Card Photo Panic 2010 has commenced.

New year, same scenario. It's officially that time of year when I realize I have to get the perfect picture for our family Christmas card. Or the world will come to an end. When I make my usually tolerant children crazy with my demands to sit next to each other and smile. Again. And again.

Last year, I let myself off the hook, so to speak. Instead of one perfect card, I decided to do two versions: "Naughty" and "Nice". I never got THE perfect shot, so I just capitalized on what I was able to capture.

I need a new plan. It's just all so stressful. Need proof? Here are some outtakes from last year's Photo Shoot:

OK....who farted?




I'm outta here.




Just where do you think you're going?





I know you aren't TOUCHING me.



Come baaaaaaack...



Thank you. Thank you very much.

Year #2 in Review

The second anniversary of Three Chocolate Brownies just passed.

Gotta say, I had no idea I would cover such a wide variety of topics over the course of the last 12 months. Our epic cross-country move. Heartbreaking marital woes. Self-discovery. Reconnecting with my extended family. Elation in Isaiah's negative test results. Pride in my uber Brownies' accomplishments. Renewed faith.

If you have followed us from the start, thanks for hanging in there. If you are new to The Blog, hang on for the ride ~ I have a feeling it's just getting good.