Sunday, February 12, 2012

Sister Therapy

Once a month my sisters and I (there are 5 of us) get together and leave our children with our husbands and spend the day together.
The second Saturday of the month is untouchable.
We don't plan parties or trips or errands.
Second Saturday is Sister Saturday.
Period, the end, no questions asked, always and forever.
We meet at Christine's house at about 8:30am and then get in her huge van and pick a place to breakfast together.
Then we stay in the restaurant way too long talking, and laughing and crying together.
Group therapy anyone?
It is the mother of all therapy sessions.
We talk about everything under the sun; those 4 girls know more about me than probably everyone else I know combined (except Mr Bird of course).
We deal with issues from our childhood and they teach me so much.
I feel like no one else on earth could possibly understand the things I deal with quite like my sisters can.
They have been there, too.
They know how I feel because they feel the exact same way.
I don't remember my parents when they were married, I was only 2 when my dad left.
But my sisters do, to varying degree.
It is intriguing and so therapeutic to hear the things they remember.
They put pieces of the puzzle together for me like no one else ever could.
It helps to heal my soul.
We catch up on each others lives and brag about our children and cry over them sometimes, too.
We talk about who's who and what's what.
We talk about things that one could only share with a sister.
And let's not forget retail therapy.
We hit fabric stores and thrift shops and kitchen stores and warehouse clubs.
We eat samples and try on clothes together in the same dressing room.
We have even spent afternoons engaged in humanitarian service projects.
Just when my life seems to get to be too much to handle, a Sister Saturday rolls around.
It is the balm my troubled soul needs.
I come home feeling filled and rested and ready to fight the good fight some more, and harder than before.
My sisters make me want to be a better wife and mother.
They fill my empty bucket.
I can only hope that I can in some small way do the same for them.
They will always be my Angel Sisters, my best friends!

Friday, February 10, 2012

Someone (who shall remain nameless) called Little Miss Mae a very, very bad name.
I was shocked that this someone would say such a thing, and right in front of me no less.
In fact, she called her the same very bad name on two different occasions.
Talk about beyond RUDE!
I was shocked and a little hurt, even.
What did this person call her, you ask?

It was the "T" word.
She called M&M a...
Can you believe the audacity?!?!
Calling my sweet baby such a horrible thing!
The truth is, she may be right.
Did I just type that out loud?
It's getting harder and harder to deny that my little girl is changing so fast and in so many ways.
She has teeth and wears jeans.
And look at that pony tail, it breaks my heart!
She stands without holding onto things for a few seconds at a time and travels along the edges of everything.
But the fact remains that she has of yet to take her first steps.
That, in definition, proves that a fore mentioned person is wrong.
She is not a toddler yet, because she does not toddle.
Key word being 'YET'...
Hold on baby girl, stop growing so big, so fast.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Birthday Boy

My sweet boy had a birthday.
One year older and wiser,too.
Still not wise enough to stop using a blow torch to light the ever growing number of candles on the cake, however.
This year's treat: carrot cake with absolutely zero refined sugar.
So, so, so yummy!
We ate the whole thing!

Dear Mr Bird,
Have I told you lately that I love you? Well, I do, fiercely. There is so much that I love about you. I am afraid to put it all down on this here blog for fear of sounding really, really cheesy. I love how you live life so big. Everything you do has to be big, like the candles on your cake. All or nothing for you. It's how you love as well. You have the biggest, most passionate heart of any other single person that I know. Everything you do, you do with such passion and zest for life. Your happines and laughter are contagious. I can't help but love you with every part of me. It melts my heart to see how you are with our children, especially that baby girl. She has you totally wrapped around her cute little finger. I love how you look at her and play with her and snuggle with her. I love how you wrestle with our boys and tuck them into bed at night.

I love the way you take care of our home and family. I am so glad you have a January birthday, it brings such a fun light right in the middle of the cold, cold winters. I can't help but love January because it's your month. See what I mean, I always get so cheesy when I write about you, I just can't help it. We have such a blessed life and for that I am so grateful. I am so proud to be your wife.

Happy Birthday, Old Man!
Love, Me