Education from a 7 year old

So, it's not profound....but I have thought about it about 10 times this weekend, so I thought it warranted a blog.

I was doing laundry (and if you would ever like to come help me with this mountainous task, feel free. :)). Like a good launderer, I always check pants pockets. One time I found a note from my hubby telling me how much he loved me, placed there right before I collected his clothes for the washer...how sweet :) Most recently, I was washing Corbin's clothes. He is not nearly as careful as my Casey is about cleaning out his pockets, so I wanted to make sure that no clothes (or washing machines) got ruined by a stray marker or ink pen.

From my ventures in the laundry room, I have surmised that you can learn a lot about people by what they keep in their pockets. Priorities, goals, even philosophies on life. These, you'll find, are much different in the lives of children than they are in the older folks' lives. In Corbin's pockets this particular go-round? Well.....

A die cut of a holly leaf: Every day is a holiday. Daily life should never be mundane; the day doesn't have to have a national holiday attached to it to be special; rather, celebrations are in the eye of the beholder. Find a reason to make the day special.

A rubber ball: Never be too busy or too old to play. There is a time and a place, of course, but in practically every situation there is an occasion to revert back to younger years. Make a game of household chores. Make a scavenger hunt out of filing. Create a fun lab in the kitchen while making brownies. Dogpile your husband with the kiddos while you're getting ready to leave (yes, we did....and we learned that from now on, all dogpiles will happen in the middle of the bed so as not to have small children rolling off of said pile onto the floor...)

Four slips of perfume/cologne samplers from Kohl's: Always smell good. That seems pretty simple, but it escapes people at times. Good hygiene is just good practice. And it's not bad on the ladies, either (we walked in to Eric and Marie's the other night and Marie and Ashley both commented on how good my Casey smelled....and he does. Like 99.8% of the time. Yummy.) :)

A white ninja figurine: Always be ready to fight for what is important...or go incognito as necessary. :)

Ode to my Bonus Babies

I have spoken...written...typed....prayed...) in great depths about how blessed I am to have such an incredible husband, and I am. He and I were talking last night about how thankful we both are to have one another. He is so good to me....well, don't get me started, because that's not why I'm here today. :)

One of the added "bonuses" (no pun intended) of getting married to my sweetheart was the three stepchildren I got in the deal. I hate the term stepchildren, so we decided a while back (before we even got engaged, really) after overhearing a sweet little old lady who had "bonus grandchildren" that I would be a bonus mama and they would be bonus babies. When I explain that to people, it usually gets a grin from whomever I am talking to. :)

So I have three. Bonus babies, that is. They are all incredibly special and I want to make sure they hear it often. And see it often. And know, without a doubt, that I don't consider them something I "had" to accept if I was going to marry their daddy....they were indeed a bonus.

Casey asks me all the time (as a matter of fact, we had this conversation just yesterday) if I regret marrying him. if I have had second thoughts about the deal I was getting. if the kids ever get to be 'too much' for me. Each time I say "not at all!" And I mean it. Absolutely, it has been an adjustment. I have to get used to, especially now that we have the kids full time for the summer, having someone around all the time. The adjustment is bigger, I suppose, given the fact that I have lived all by myself for the last 7 years of my life. That said, I love the change. I love my life. Every single part of it. I have been given an incredible gift in my husband. I have been given three phenomenal gifts in the three children that I call my own. :)

Ansleigh is the oldest and the most sensitive in the crew. She amazes me with her maturity, but she still enjoys being a little girl in a lot of respects (as I type this, I'm sitting at work with both my girls sitting in front of me. Ansleigh is painting her toenails and has her teddy bear in tow.) I'm thankful for that, as I teach way too many girls who are trying to grow up too quickly. If you ask Ansleigh if she's ever going to get married, she will look at you with a look of absolute disbelief and say, "Nuh-uh. I'm going to live with my daddy forever!" Ansleigh loves her own space, but she likes to hold my hand sometimes when we go to the store. She makes me feel loved. She has made it clear that she loves me, but she was the hardest to win over in the beginning...not in general, but when the time came that she realized she may have to share Casey with me. I knew once I had her approval that life was going to be okay. She doesn't realize it, but she's Casey's emotional bodyguard in a lot of ways. She has helped guard his heart, I think. They say kids are a good judge of character, and I hope that's true, since she has accepted me as part of her life. Ansleigh is shy beyond belief, but if she thinks nobody's watching she'll dance with wild abandon--literally. It doesn't take much to bring a tear to her eye--a dog who has escaped his pen, an umbrella broken by accident, the thought that she has disappointed someone or made them uncomfortable, or even a look of disapproval from me or her daddy--will do it. She's only 12, but she gets sarcasm. In a way that some of my high schoolers don't. I remember with a smile a conversation that took place between Ansleigh and my daddy a few months ago after they had cleaned out the garage together:

my dad: "Ansleigh, I have a bone to pick with you."
Ans: "um...what?"
dad: "when we were in the garage yesterday. You killed some of my spiders. They were very special to me. I want to know how you're going to take care of that."
Ans: "You want a cricket?"

And that's just the way Ansleigh is. I connect with Ansleigh in a way that I can't really explain. I know I'm not her mom, and don't desire to take that place in her life--but I am so very thankful for the relationship that she and I have. I have seen kids who refer to their stepmom as "my dad's wife" as almost an insult, a refusal to accept her as a relative. I am blessed.
And that's just the way my Ansleigh is.

Ivy and I have a physical connection. People in general are suprised at how much we look alike, and the amazement grows when they learn we are not biologically related. Our eyeballs are the same size. :) Ivy has one of the most carefree spirits of anybody I've ever met, and she is amazed by everything. I have literally heard her cry out in amazement upon seeing a flower in bloom on the side of the road that wasn't there the day before. Ivy is my most "touchy feely" b.b.; she'd be perfectly content to lie on top of me while we watch movies...in fact, she has done just that. She wants to hold my hand all the time--even when we're all cuddling in the bed watching a movie. She asks me if she can play with my hair (which is just fine with me!) and she tells me she loves me all the time. She loves looking at my jewelry (for that reason, I think she's got some of mama June in her, too!) and not many days go by that she doesn't ask to wear my earrings. Ivy is artistic. She sees shapes and beauty in ordinary, everyday things. She told us a month ago she was going to ask for an elephant for her birthday. And she wasn't kidding. (I don't know if Amber realizes this or not...but I'm here to advise her that Mr. Elephant will have to live in Greensboro...) She can draw, and even at 9 years old, what she draws looks like what it's supposed to look like. Ivy loves everything--clothes, purses, Polly Pockets (Pollys Pocket? no idea...), kitties, puppies, markers, shoes, people, sleeping, and life in general--and I don't think she takes anything for granted (except for the fact that, for her, she is the center of her own world! The only thing that surprises her, really, is when I don't drop everything I'm doing to cater to her right away :)) I'm watching her sit in the front of the auditorium at work right now...when she caught my eye, she flashed an instant, genuine smile...and that's just who she is.

Corbin, in the words of my father, "just looks like you want to squeeze him." When he smiles his eyes join in--literally--and he is just fun. Where we see packing boxes, Corbin sees a robot waiting to appear. He kisses me on the cheek and forehead about 38 times a day and tells me I'm "the best bonus mama ever." I never wonder if I'm loved in Corbin's eyes, because he tells me every day...multiple times. He cringes when his daddy kisses me, but he peeks through his hands to see if it'll happen again. Corbin fits in the nook of my arm on movie nights and loves to cuddle. Corbin is tireless and will run until his legs wear out. He loves everything superhero; if he can't find one, he'll transform himself into captain something-or-other (complete with cape and dagger). He wants to be just like his daddy; I remember Casey finding a shirt and tie combo one weekend and finding another one in Corbin's size. Corbin's eyes lit up as he realized that he was "going to be handsome just like daddy!". Today, boy day is happening at our house while me and the girls are at work. I don't know what they're doing, but it's going to be filled with fun, video games, and all things man. Corbin is thoughtful; he made a card for Casey on Sunday when he was so sick, and he is often the initiator of "get well soon" and "happy birthday" cards around the house. He has begun asking to help me cook and fold laundry, which is just fine with me. We have learned together how to make sweet tea and have had math lessons with my measuring cups. He is a quick learner. He likes to fold towels, even though he doesn't quite have the hang of how to make them look like rectangles yet. :) Once he realized that I didn't mean a "smoochy smoochy" date, he asks when we're having Corbin-Becky day. He informed me before we got married that he was going to start calling me Beck...and sometimes he does. He is usually the first one to tell me that dinner is fabulous and thank me for cooking (and of course, the girls follow suit...they're so grateful, and that makes me proud to know them.)

All in all, life couldn't get much better. Most people who get married talk about how blessed they are to marry the love of their life. I get to one-up them and say that not only did I marry the love of my life, I got three beautiful children in the process. :) I'd say God's been pretty good to this girl.