tarheels born & tarheels bred

oh how we love us some carolina basketball.  even during one of their worst seasons in recent memory, we are still diehard fans.  no, neither chris nor i attended UNC -- but all four of our parents did, and if it weren't for UNC, well, we wouldn't be here.  our allegiance only wavers when the heels play richmond or davidson, which, surprisingly, both happened this season.  and while we love our alma maters, i have to say that with current price tags of $55,000 and $40,000 per year (!) respectively, the in-state tuition at chapel hill is looking more and more appealing.  we figure we're indoctrinating our children young.

here are a few images from our time with the heels over the past few months.

in late december, coach roy williams puts on a clinic as a fundraiser for one of his charities.  kids get to hang out with the team and staff, doing Q&As with the athletes and getting autographs.  that's liam in the front, looking at roy whose arms are up in the air.  (i describe him that way in case you're having trouble finding the 63-year old gray-haired man amongst the crowd)

no paper?  no problem

how cool is that -- to be nine years old and shooting hoops in the dean dome?!

the news & observer did an excellent series on the JV program at UNC, the only one of its kind in the country.  liam was hooked, so i felt compelled to write a note of my appreciation

 the davidson game was a tough one -- what to wear? whom to pull for?  chris decked himself out in black and red, susanna & i stuck with carolina blue (mostly because we had nothing else), and liam was clearly a mann divided

she might not fully understand all the nuances of the game, but the girl sure can show some tarheel energy

stinky

"something stinks," susanna said from the back seat of the car.  "but i don't know what it is."

i inhaled deeply and smelled it too -- but with many more years of experience, i did know what it was.  it was body odor -- emanating from our nine-year old boy, sweaty from basketball practice with wet hair plastered to his head to prove it.  i had been aware of this issue ever since i had to air out his soccer bag after his goalie gloves (which can't be thrown into the washer along with the other gazillion athletic items he owns) remained zipped inside for far too long.  but it wasn't until this car ride home that i finally acknowledged that it wasn't just his equipment ... it was him.

i sighed.  "liam," i said, glancing at his expectant face in the rearview mirror, "i think you need deodorant." 

his sweet face -- no longer that soft, cherubic face of years gone by -- broke out in a huge smile.  "really?  deodorant?"  he paused, letting it sink in.  "awesome."

this is just one of a long list of signs that have hit me smack upside the head recently that he's, well, growing up.  some signs are welcome; some, not so much.  one that's been comforting to witness is his increased sense of place in the world.  i remember driving him and a friend to the tennis courts back in early december, sitting quietly as they had their own five minute conversation about the death of nelson mandela.  "he was a great leader," liam stated in a voice that sounded like it was coming from a person twice his age.  "he changed south africa forever."

on the other end of the spectrum, he's become overly intrigued by forbidden words, pointing out profanity almost gleefully whenever he comes across it.  (you'd be surprised how often "hell" and "damn" can be heard on the radio and television.)  he's eager to test his limits, even asking me from time to time if he can spell one of the words when he's frustrated. (answer: always no.)

and some signs are just fun to see.  he's watched chris amp up his exercise regimen with F3, and is now eager to grow his muscles like his daddy.  "i want to get ripped!" he's exclaimed, quoting a commercial that airs often on ESPN, which is the only network he ever watches.  so chris has shown him how to do a proper push-up, and every night, he'll do a few sets on his bedroom floor, often calling me in to show me how many more he can do over the last time i watched.

as always, wonder is eager to help ... or at least get in the middle of all the action

and then, there's one sign that was the toughest pill to swallow.  "i hope this is okay," he said to me recently, "but i think i want to just call you 'mom' from now on.  i think 'mommy' is sort of baby-ish."  my eyes widened as i tried to conceal my dismay.  "mommy -- i mean mom! -- i'm like the only kid i know who still uses that word.  i need to grow up sometime!"

like a dagger to my heart.

but he's nine years old.  he's entering that stage they now call "tweens", which perfectly sums up where he is with the push/pull on almost every front.  sure, he follows politics and the news, but he'll still talk your ear off about the wii.  bad words intrigue him, but he still thinks that the "f word" is fart.  he'll do all those push-ups, but only if his beloved night-night is next to him.  and the "mom" thing?  to be honest, he forgets it most of the time.

so at least for a little while longer, i'm still mommy.  he still kisses me goodbye when he leaves for school in the morning, and we still curl up in my bed every night and read together.  and his body -- with the faint scent of deodorant and those bulging muscles -- is still small enough to snuggle into my side.

stinky?  nah.  that's pretty darn sweet.

snowpocalypse

never in a million years did i think i'd be following up my last snow post with another snow post only two weeks later.  but that's exactly what's happened -- and this time it was downright frightening.

we again had full knowledge that it was coming; schools closed pre-emptively (which, this time, turned out to be the right call) and i was well-stocked in ingredients for chili, hot chocolate, and wine.  but the ferocity with which it hit surprised everyone.

let me set the stage: susanna, social butterfly that she is, had been invited to two playdates on wednesday as soon as school was cancelled.  she eagerly accepted both, especially since liam had a half-day of school and we both knew she'd be bored out of her mind without him.  i dropped her off at the first with the plan that her friend's mom would then take both girls to the second playdate at 1:00.

i picked up liam from school and then headed out to cary (a mere five miles down the road) to pick up a space heater i had on hold at target.  as we entered the store, the first flakes had begun to fall, to the delight of both of us.  they were big, wet flakes, sticking to our eyelashes and liam's outstretched tongue.

when we emerged from the store a mere ten minutes later (because you can't ever go into target for just one thing, of course) i was stunned.  the pavement wasn't visible.  you could barely see straight ahead of you for the deluge from the sky.  we hurried to the car and my tires started spinning as soon as i put it in reverse to pull out of my spot.

it was then that i started to worry.  i handed liam my phone in the back seat, instructing him to text daddy to get on the road immediately.  i also had him conversing back and forth with all the playdate moms, having him read out their stories of slipping and sliding just trying to go down their driveways.  we progressed at a snail's pace out of the shopping center complex, but all the while i'm explaining to liam -- whose anxiety is mounting by the second -- that once we hit the highway we'd be smooth-sailing.  i fully believed it myself.

but then we got to the ramp ... and it was gridlock.  i gripped the steering wheel tighter, turned off the radio, and wondered how long our normal ten-minute drive was going to take us.  i had liam call chris again to ask what gear i needed to be in (since i'd never driven this car in snow) and turned on both defrosters rear blast to prevent the ice from forming.  and i said many silent prayers as we inched our way home.

an hour later, we made it.  chris's commute took almost three, and ended with him having to abandon his car about a half-mile down the road and trek the rest of the way in his leather dress shoes.  susanna was still stuck at her friend's house (much to her delight), so i trudged there on foot with her snowboots in a backpack, getting our faces pelted by ice on the way back.  but we were home, safe and sound, by late afternoon, watching the sky empty itself -- with more on the way tomorrow.

but we won't be quite as warm and toasty as we could have been.  because that space heater -- you know, the one that was responsible for our nightmare of a drive?  the one that i had on hold at the only target that still had one?  they had sold it -- the last one in stock -- to someone else.

snow joke.

 susanna and her friend kate -- literally the only picture i have of this event (and i didn't even take it).  the entire time i was outside it was either snowing or sleeting and i just didn't want to chance it with my camera phone

wordless wednesday: snow!

only in the south would they cancel school based on only an idea of snow -- but that's exactly what happened.  susanna didn't go at all on tuesday simply because there were flurries in the forecast -- even though it wasn't even expected to begin until late afternoon --  and liam was released at 11:30.  so all day long we waited ... and waited ... and finally, around 6:00 pm, we saw our first flakes.

and it kept coming -- enough to total about 4-5 inches by the time we awoke this morning.  after two years (i think) of not missing a single day of school for snow, it was a welcome sight for sure!

what was not a welcome sight?  my iphone deciding that it likes the cold even less than i do.  i managed to snap only a few pictures and videos before it shut down, stubbornly refusing to work until it warmed up by the fire.  who knew?!

sure, they're all smiles now.  but let me describe the HIGH DRAMA in the hour before we emerged ... we just don't have much need for snow gear around here, so just had to make do with what we had.  liam initially went out in shorts underneath a pair of sweatpants.  within minutes his legs were bright red from being soaking wet, so we returned indoors to dress a little more smartly.  (turned out his sweatpants became wetpants.)  and don't get me started with susanna ... she actually was quite fortunate to have actual brand-new snow pants (from a target clearance purchase a few years back) but had the audacity to wail about it because their bulkiness made her "look like a boy".  seriously?!  i told her that a 20 degree winter storm was not the time to expect to make a fashion statement, and when that didn't pacify her, i assured her we wouldn't be seeing anyone we knew

... and then we ran into one her best friends kinsley on the next street over.  so much for her less-than-fashionable fashion statement.  but she wound up playing at her house for five hours so i guess she let it go

wonder didn't know what to make of the stuff, but i know her little paws had to be frozen solid.  she didn't seem to mind

unfortunately, the type of snow that fell didn't lend itself to building snowmen ... but snow angels were an easy feat.  (and you can start to see how his sweatpants became wetpants.  still giggling at that verbage)

these sleds, along with the ski bibs i'm wearing, have been in my family for at least thirty years -- probably longer.  we sprayed the bottoms of them with pledge and they were just as speedy as i remembered them

see what i mean?  chris and liam were flying -- full-speed around a sharp curve, even.  scared me half to death

wordless wednesday: richmond

when the evite came through a few months back for a good college friend's 40th birthday party in richmond, i knew i wanted to go.  it was a fabulous idea: whole families were invited to the U of R basketball game in the renovated robins center, and the party was to be held in one of the brand-new fancy schmancy terrace suites. 

we drove up on saturday morning for the 3:00 game, and from the get-go, it turned out to be a fantastic trip.  liam won the kids' raffle at the party, coming home with his very own rainbow loom.  richmond prevailed in what turned out to be an exciting game.  and after spending the night with our friends, susanna gained a new bestie in the form of our friends' nine-year old daughter.  a victory for all involved!

in a crazy coincidence, a friend of ours from raleigh was responsible for all the new fancy seating in the stadium.  he explained that rather than going the cheaper route of simply screenprinting the spider on the back of each chair, U of R opted for the much more expensive method of embroidering.  and you start to see how easily the renovation earned its $17 million pricetag ...

i reconnected with gobs of college friends, some of whom i hadn't seen in decades.  (from left, danielle, me, jen, dave, alison, and patrick).  ironically, the birthday boy isn't in this picture

an excerpt from the text message chain between susanna and elise.  "maybe elise and i can go to richmond together and be roommates like you and her mommy were!" susanna said.  i'm printing out the scholarship forms as we speak

four happy spider fans with full bellies, a raffle prize, new buddies, and a victory.  doesn't get any better

 oh wait!  it does get better -- we also all received a free fleece spider headband (as seen on susanna).  we'll be showing our spider pride all winter long

2013: a look back

since i can't seem to get my ducks in a row to post on this blog as much as i'd like, i thought that the best way for our end-of-the-year summary is going to get written is if i put three of my family members to work.  (i figure i can at least write for myself and on behalf of the pooch.)  i asked each of them to come up with the three most memorable parts of 2013 and type them here.  an ingenious idea, if i do say so myself ... and this way, our yearly recap is actually going to be written before, oh, july.

so here are the highlights of 2013 for the mann family.

liam (composed and even typed by liam himself)
1) i got into magellan. i had no idea what in the world was happening when my mom was in tears until she told me.  this is the best school i have ever dreamed about attending.

our teachers surprised the whole 3rd grade with a trip to the movies to see "frozen".  we also got popcorn and a soft drink at 9:00 in the morning!

2) we went to the bahamas.  the cruise was so amazing and the ship was so luxurious [i am not using this term loosely] and the food was great. thank goodness there was mini golf and table tennis there. there was also a water park and pool that was really fun.

marshall, web, me, and susanna with the captain of the cruise ship

3) my soccer team won our first soccer tournament in charlotte, and we dominated.  during the tournament, we never were behind.  although we had some ties during games, we won every game.  after, we went to daddy's awesome college and had a very sweet lunch.

[sara: this picture was my choice -- we were so proud to find this hanging on the wall at our soccer facility!]

susanna
1) for the first time, i got the same teacher liam had last year.  i really like my class a lot.  there are so many great friends in it!

me and my friend lily at the lacy boosterthon -- a little sweaty and tired from running all those laps, but we had so much fun!

2) we stayed in a new beach house for our annual family reunion.  it had a pool and an elevator and everything.

my second-cousin reilly and me, having a sleepover in one of the bunk beds

 
3) i had my first communion.  i wore a very pretty white dress and flowers in my hair.

me and my friend charlotte, who's also in my Y princess tribe

sara
1) we bought a brand-new car after weeks of test driving and negotiating with sleazy dealers.  my favorite feature of my enclave is the remote start button -- a welcome tool for the sub-freezing mornings we've had recently.  a close second is the CD player, which plays books on CD from the library during the depressing amount of time i spend driving that thing.  now that liam's attending a charter school with no bus transportation, this new car is quickly becoming an old car in terms of mileage.  when you count the time driving there and back with the time i'm just sitting in the carpool line, it winds up being about an hour every afternoon picking him up.  add that to all the other activities that require me ferrying my children every which way, and this is a representative example of how much time i spend driving in a week:

yes, that's over 13 hours in the car in 7 days.  sort of depressing when i think about it.  maybe i shouldn't use this timer tool after all

2) we were fortunate to have several amazing trips this year, but the one by far was our cruise to the bahamas with good friends.  from start to finish, it was absolutely fantastic.

 not exactly the best picture to sum up the trip, but i'm trying to use one that's not already in the blog

3) i found out that i'm going to be an aunt again -- twice, in perhaps the same week!  my brother ben is expecting his second baby on april 6, and my sister leslie is expecting her first on april 9. we don't know what either is having, but my money's on boys for both.

 me and teddy, soon to be a big brother

chris [with a few editorial inserts by sara]
1) My new gig in R&D at SAS.  While Topaz was a fairly fun rollercoaster ride, I certainly don't miss the commute to and from Durham every day, nor the long hours.  I love getting to collaborate with a wide variety of really smart folks, having the freedom and encouragement to experiment with methods and processes I've never been empowered to implement before, and not feeling guilty volunteering at the kids' schools when given the opportunity.  Oh, and the M&Ms are pretty good, too.  [mondays are fresh fruit days, wednesdays are M&M days, and fridays are breakfast treat days.  chris also regularly uses his lunch break to play in the company flag football league, tennis league, and basketball leagues -- in the middle of the day.  interested in the piece about SAS being one of the best employers in the country, which aired last week on the today show?  click here and scroll down just a bit.]
2) The addition of Wonder Wo Mann to the fold.  I really didn't think we were ready for a new family member after Super's painful decline and then having to put her down. But Wonder is such a playful lovebug, she never ceases to put a smile on my face.

poor Super (it's easy to see how bad off she was near the end) and Wonder, during the few hours they were together

3) Discovering, after much prodding by some friends, F3. The volunteer-led fitness, fellowship, and faith program has been a fantastic kick in the rear for me to get into better shape with a bunch of cool guys who want to be better people.  [chris neglected to say that they meet at the ungodly hour of 5:15 a.m. and in the rain or sub-freezing temperatures.  how is that sane?]

wonder
these aren't just highlights -- they are major life changes.  do i get an award for surviving this crazy year? 
1) i got knocked up by some labrador and gave birth to ten (yes, ten!) "boxadors" -- who all looked more like labradors than boxers.  seriously?
2) the blue ridge boxer group rescued me after my previous owners couldn't afford to keep me, and was adopted by the best family i could imagine [oh wonder, how lovely a description!].  i'm blissfully happy, even though it took my mom several months to even write about me in this blog.  harrumph.
3) i had my name changed since no one knew what it originally was.  i'm pretty sure it's "super-i-mean-wonder".

 my mother used my picture to help her teach her online course -- 

and i daresay she's not giving me any compensation for my time

that's all for us. and i say this every year as i sign off ... but our true highlights are the health and love and happiness we continue to be blessed with by God. we strive each day to show our gratitude for all that we've been given.

happy 2014!

wordless wednesday: brrrrrrr

the polar vortex swept through raleigh last week, resulting in a delayed opening for public schools because of the temperatures.  so while the vast majority of the country was miserable, susanna was loving it -- it meant two extra hours of beauty sleep for our late riser.

but jeez louise, it was cold!

liam was disappointed to learn that charter schools have no need for delayed openings because they have no buses.  at least his monkey hat was smiling

for once, i didn't have to pull her out of bed kicking and screaming.  "i wish it could be nine degrees every morning!" our sleepyhead said

she's a wonder

i'd like to introduce you to our newest family member (albeit a few months late): Wonder Wo Mann, called "wonder" for short. after three reference checks, two home visits, and four phone interviews (!!!), we finally gained approval to adopt our sweet brown girl through blue ridge boxer rescue -- the same group that gave us super seven years ago.

fortuitously, even though the rescue group services all of north carolina and south carolina as well as parts of virginia, she just happened to be fostered at a home only ten minutes down the road here in raleigh.  we were able to have her for a short visits before she officially joined us, which included taking her to the "blessing of the animals" service at our church.  we were amazed at how well she fit into what was surely the most chaotic surroundings she'd ever seen -- dogs and cats and birds and rabbits and gerbils all hanging out with their owners outside on a sunday morning.  she made not a noise, unless you count the whoosh of the air while her little nub wagged and wagged.

getting her church on

a few weeks later, just a few days after her spay operation, she joined us permanently.  well -- sort of.  we quickly noticed that she was bleeding a bit at her incision spot.  so our short-term solution was this:

  the diaper worked great -- until we left her out on the back porch while we were gone one afternoon.  we returned to find shredded up diaper all over the dadgum place

and the long-term solution was losing her for a bit.  because of the rescue group's policy to release their dogs only after they've been deemed totally healthy, she returned to her foster family to recuperate a bit longer.

when she finally did join us on a truly permanent basis, we realized what an adjustment it was to go from a totally immobile dog to one that has the energy of a puppy, to say the least.  we hadn't needed to so much as walk poor super in over a year, and now, we have a pooch that needs a ton of exercise.  luckily we have a large back yard and she doesn't stray too far, so we can just let her loose.  the second she gets outside, she'll run full-speed (she's almost like a blur, honestly, she's so fast) around and around and around the perimeter of our house.  she's an excellent partner in games of fetch -- until she decides she's had enough and just drops the tennis ball wherever she sees fit.  we've got probably a dozen old balls strewn throughout the wooded areas of our yard to prove it.

she's found her favorite spot in the house: the front window.  from there she can monitor all the going-ons of our cul-de-sac, and be the first to realize when a family member has returned home.

the christmas tree's location proved to be a bit of an obstacle for wonder -- but she made do.  and we only lost a few low-hanging ornaments in the process

there's nothing quite like driving into our driveway and seeing our pooch eagerly awaiting our return. 

 by the time we unlock the door, she's right there in the mudroom, excited to welcome us home

she's quickly learned that most furniture is off-limits.  (one of her first nights here, i climbed into bed in the dark after chris had gone to sleep.  i felt a lump on my pillow, and when my eyes adjusted, found her curled up like the queen of sheba.  that didn't last long.)

obviously she can't read.  she must think the chair, which liam had brought down from the playroom, says "wonder".  literacy lessons commence tomorrow

we toyed around with the idea, ever-so-briefly, of not replacing super when she passed away.  dogs can be difficult, especially at the beginning -- and the vomit and accidents we endured are proof of that fact.  but i'm just so thankful we found her and welcomed her into our family, because i just can't imagine life without a pooch.  not only does she keep me company at home during the day -- we call her Velcro Dog, because she's never more than a few feet away from us -- but without her, we wouldn't have hours of free entertainment.  case in point: just watch how she reacts to the reflection my knife made on the walls of our breakfast room over dinner last night.

 this isn't torture ... right?

she's brought us so much joy over these last few months. she's affectionate, patient, friendly, doesn't bark at the doorbell (a huge plus), and just fun.  in short ... she's a wonder.

wordless wednesday: zipping along

#1 christmas gift of 2013: a zipline!  liam's probably ridden it, oh, 500 times by now.  (susanna's been on once or twice -- but at least she's open to it.  "cautious" is her middle name.)

the fact that it was eighteen degrees outside didn't stop liam from flying through the cold air at breakneck speed.  wheeeee!

uncertainty

"mommy, if i ask you something, i want you to be completely honest with me," liam said to me one morning over breakfast back in late november.  "you have to promise."

"what do you want to know?" i responded, using the tried-and-true parenting method of deflection so as to avoid making promises one cannot keep.

"okay," liam sighed, clasping his hands together and looking quite serious as his big blue eyes focused on mine.  "here's my question.  do you and daddy move gofster every night?"

i froze.

and then my mind went into panic mode.  gofster.  beloved family member since 2007.  son doubting.  an accusation.  must answer somehow.  must not lie.

i swallowed.  "gofster?  our elf the shelf?"  i stalled.  "why would you ask that?"

liam moved his clasped hands to point at what was below them: the target christmas catalog, turned to a page where the boxed edition of the elf the shelf was featured prominently above the price tag of $29.95.  "i mean, you can just go buy one at any store around here," he said.  "i just saw a whole table full of them at the bookstore last week.  so is gofster just something you bought, and you and daddy move him while susanna and i are sleeping?"

oh crud.  susanna.  my mind escalated its panic mode, as i whipped around to see if she was privy to our conversation.  i had been thrown into such a tizzy that for that moment i didn't even realize that she was in the next room, practicing piano, obviously oblivious.  whew.  unfortunately i turned back to find liam still sitting there, looking at me, expectant. 

must answer somehow.  must not lie.

"well, i think that gofster is part of the magic of christmas," i stammered in what i hoped to be a confident enough voice.  "i think there are so many magical parts of christmas, and it's fun to just believe in that magic."  and then, calling on that same tried-and-true method of deflection, i followed with, "are you ready for some more orange juice?"

liam dropped the subject, but my mind was reeling.  had we already arrived to this long-dreaded point, where that aforementioned magic starts to lose its luster?  did we really already have children old enough to start questioning?  a little part of me sort of wilted inside, unable -- or maybe just unwilling -- to accept the fact that our children aren't tiny little towheaded toddlers anymore.  they might actually stop believing unconditionally everything their parents have told them. 

after mulling it over with chris, we decided that we would wait for liam to bring it up again, and then perhaps have a long conversation about it -- which turned out to be the best decision we could have made, because it actually never came up again.  instead, the very first thing we heard on the morning of december 1st, after the racing thumps of footsteps down the stairs and back up again, was this scream of sheer elation:

"susanna!  mommy!  daddy!  I FOUND HIM!  GOFSTER IS HERE!"

and for the following 23 days, gofster was, once again, embraced as our long-lost fifth family member.  they've woken up early each morning to search for him; they've regaled everyone they see with tales of his antics.  they've accepted 2 dollar bills from him after he apparently intercepted the tooth fairy (they lost 3 teeth between them in 3 days), made his picture their screensaver on their iPods, and communicated with him via written notes.  (oh, the notes.  enough to fill a book.  that might just be a post for another day.)

i look back on that terrible conversation from november and cringe, sad to be reminded of the doubt that was creeping into my little boy's mind.  but for once, i'm grateful for my parenting uncertainty, for it turned out to be a blessing.  i could have had that honest discourse he was requesting, but if i had, i would have denied him another holiday season's worth of joy -- at least, the type of joy that is brought by a magical elf on the shelf that can be bought for $29.95.  i can now acknowledge that the reason i was so uncertain of how to handle it was because i wasn't yet ready to give the answer.

but i am certain about one thing now, in hindsight, and it's this:  he didn't really want to know it anyway.

the kids found him one morning with headphones to his tiny ears, jamming to the christmas station on pandora

speedy delivery

gofster arrived with his annual letters from santa this morning, a day after the kids chatted with the old guy at the club during the santa brunch.  he seemed to have a really accurate read on how the kids are doing -- the highlights of their year, as well as room for improvement opportunities for growth (gotta use the new catchphrase, of course!)

the kids said they didn't mind me sharing them, so here they are. i'm hoping you can click on each image to enlarge it; otherwise, this is sort of a wasted post.

(and a special thanks to my mom for all her work behind the scenes, if you know what i mean.)   

yes

this was my contribution to our church's advent devotional book this year.  (hence everything being capitalized, which will delight my father to no end.)

“I don’t want to do it,” I said, my five-year old blond head shaking emphatically.  “Tell them that I said ‘no thank you.’”

My mother had one hand covering the mouthpiece of our avocado green phone, while the other twirled the cord that was stretched from the kitchen wall.  “Are you sure?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.  I nodded.  “All right, then.”  She returned to her phone call.  “She says she would rather not play Mary.”  She went on to let them know that I would still participate in the St. Michael’s Christmas pageant, but would just prefer a smaller role.  

I remember this scene so vividly because it’s my earliest memory of what has turned into a lifetime of indecisiveness.  To this day, I struggle with most decisions; whether it’s something as small as what I’ve chosen to wear, to something as large as where I’ve chosen to live, I’m wracked with the tendency to second-guess myself.  That day in 1980, I turned my attention back to my toys after my mother hung up the phone, but already, uncertainty was creeping in.  Had I said no too quickly?  Could I take on this responsibility after all?  All afternoon and evening I pondered the opportunity from every angle, and by the next morning, I had had a change of heart.  Being Mary had turned into something exciting.  I thought I could do it after all.  And I would get to hold a baby doll and pretend like I was a mother.  I should have said yes in the first place.

At the breakfast table, I shared this exciting revelation with my mother while eating my Cheerios.  “I’ve changed my mind.  I think I will be Mary.”

“No, you won’t,” she replied.  “They’ve already given it to someone else.”  

And just like that, my dreams vanished.  In the following weeks, I participated in the rehearsals, silently watching Mary, wishing that it was I in the costume instead.  I beat myself up over my rash decision, wishing I could turn back time and give a different answer.  Why had I doubted myself?  Why hadn’t I said yes?

And then – opportunity came knocking once more.  The night before the pageant, our same avocado green phone rang.  My mother answered it, and then turned to me.  “It seems that Mary has come down with the chicken pox,” she informed me.  “They need someone to step in.  Will you do it?  Would you like to be Mary?”  

I had been given a second chance.  And this time, I was sure about my answer.   I felt that same sense of calm in my soul that I have only after praying for confirmation from God that my choice is indeed the right one.  I felt His blessing.  And on the big day, He was with me, giving me the confidence and peace that only He can provide.  Because I said yes.  

Thirty years later, at our same beloved Saint Michael’s, history repeated itself in a way.  I waited outside my daughter’s Sunday School classroom, and watched as a dozen or so kindergartners emerged through the doorway, bursting with excitement after receiving their assignments for the upcoming pageant.  “I’m a wise man!” one announced.  “I’m an angel!” said another.  

Our five-year old Susanna looked up at me with her signature serene smile.  And then, quietly enough that I had to bend down to hear her, she said, “I’m going to be Mary.”  

Our shy, reserved, attention-avoiding daughter had done what I couldn’t do three decades earlier.  She was asked, and she didn’t hesitate.  She didn’t doubt.  She said yes.

Weeks later, I watched our daughter at the pageant, dressed perhaps in the same veil and robe that I had worn when I was her size, and marveled at her.  There was no trace of the uncertainty that I had had in myself.  No sign of nerves or indecisiveness.  Our daughter – the same little girl who was so terrified on her first day of school three months prior that I had to pick her up early – was now confidently walking down that long aisle with hundreds of pairs of eyes focused on her.  Sitting in my pew, I was reminded of  what the Bible tells us: that God will equip us with everything good so that we may do His will.  God was with Susanna that morning.  Because she said yes.

A common question often surfaces during Advent among believers: what would you do if put in Mary’s shoes?  How would you respond?  Would you say yes? 

I know my answer, for I lived it.  I was asked, and I hesitated.  I lacked the faith to know that God would equip me with everything I needed.  But once I opened myself up to the opportunity, He found me.  Just as He found and equipped my daughter, and just as He found and equipped a poor teenage girl thousands of years ago. He will, we Christians believe, find all of us.  

All we have to do is say yes.

wordless wednesday

wordless wednesday used to be a weekly staple on this blog ... and now, i realize i haven't posted one in six months.  in choosing a few pictures to sum up our christmas season so far, i've also just realized that i have been terribly remiss in introducing the blog world to our newest family addition!  a longer entry focusing on our adorable new pooch Wonder Wo is surely forthcoming.

until then, marvel at her cuteness ... and our kids' cuteness as well.  it's by far our most favorite time of year around these parts, in case you couldn't tell.

this is their first real tree -- EVER.  the last one chris and i had was in 2000, when our new puppy spider decided she was thirsty, went to drink some of the water in the tree stand, and promptly knocked over the whole thing.  so what better time to get another real tree than a month or so after getting a new dog?!  (so far, so good ...)

they both remembered that it was susanna's year to place the angel on top -- which was a good thing, since neither chris nor i had any idea

meeting santa -- or, as they recognize now, one of santa's helpers -- at a friend's party.  when asked for their #1 wish, susanna said an american girl look-like-me doll (which has NEVER BEEN ON ANY LIST WE'VE SEEN.  AND THERE HAVE BEEN MANY LISTS.)  and then liam's request was for a new pair of shoes, making him sound like he's this destitute child from a third-world country walking around without any footwear

my parents requested a picture of wonder for their holiday letter, but every time i tried to get the three kids together in front of the tree, wonder would immediately roll on her back for a belly rub.  my solution: ask liam to hold her up a bit.  not exactly what i had in mind

 

contrary to years past, i spent only a half-second choosing the picture for our 2013 card.  the irony: the last wordless wednesday post, which was a half-year ago on june 12, included this picture, taken at susanna's first communion

seeing red

motherhood.  it's not for the faint of heart.

we had just sat down for our sunday supper -- homemade white chicken chili and cornbread since it had only reached 33 degrees today -- when liam clutched his stomach.  "i don't feel right," he said.  i suggested he go upstairs and rest for a bit.  "i'll be sure to get the trash can from the bathroom," he said as he left, but i doubted he would need it.  i mean, how often do children complain about upset tummies and then a few minutes later they're fine?  all the time, right?

well, not all the time.  sometimes it turns into something more.  which i realized, as soon as i heard the scream.  "I'M THROWING UP, MOMMY!"

i dropped my spoon and sprinted upstairs, with chris on my heels.  we rounded the corner at the top of the stairwell to find liam standing, dazed, in the hallway, still vomiting.  i ran to him, almost engulfing him as i yanked him toward the bathroom, my shirt immediately soaked.

i will spare you the details, but just know that this continued, off and on, for three straight hours.*  just when we thought that SURELY he was done, that there was nothing left in his poor sick body, we'd hit yet another round.

the first chance i got to extract myself from the bathroom (and change my shirt), i assessed the damage.  it was like nothing i had ever seen before.  no surface was left untouched -- sheets, pillow, blanket, comforter, sham, bedframe, carpet, walls, hallway, sink, toilet, bathroom floor, bathtub.  if there were an olympic competition in retroperistalsis (confused?  this is one of the many things we've learned so far in 3rd grade science while studying the muscular system ... look here if interested), liam would surely be a gold medalist.

but wait -- as they say in infomericals -- there's more!  because not only was the majority of our upstairs now covered with vomit ... but it was BRIGHT RED vomit.  honestly -- and i'm not stretching the truth here even a little bit -- it looked like a crime scene.

this is probably about 5% of the total ... the other pictures would have totally grossed you out

my eyes widened as i took it all in.  a bright red bodily function normally means only one thing.  but before i got too far into my freaking-out mode, chris looked up from where he was scrubbing the carpet.  "it's not blood," he sighed.  "it's a red doughnut.  he had a freakin' red doughnut at Y Guides this afternoon."

it's still too early to call it, but i predict liam will be back to normal tomorrow.  he'll be staying home with me on another 33-degree day, finishing up his school project and undoubtedly ravenous since he completely emptied his stomach tonight.

but i guarantee you this: he won't be eating anything red.

our sweet firstborn, spending the night on the bathroom floor ... 
just in case

* edited on monday: make that seven hours, off and on, culminating in a totally soiled sleeping bag at 3 a.m.  "spot clean only" the label says.  i would have to laugh if it weren't so sad.

** edited on saturday: liam was kind enough to share the love.  i came down with it on wednesday morning, and spend 36 straight hours either vomiting or sleeping.  three words: worst. thanksgiving. ever.

halloween on the cheap

i make no bones about it: halloween ain't my bag.  the only thing i find remotely redeeming about the holiday (if you can even call it a holiday?) is the subsequent supply of free chocolate that's conveniently located in our breakfast room -- a mere 18 steps from my office.  it doesn't hurt that the candy and i are home alone all day while the rest of my family have vacated the premises.  i'm shocked i don't go into some sort of candy-induced coma from my sugar intake in early november.

but other than that, i typically find nothing at all to celebrate about all hallow's eve.  until this year.  turns out that halloween ranks up as the cheapest holiday (if you can even call it a holiday) of the year for the mann fam.

total spent on 2013 halloween costumes: zilch. 

in typical liam fashion, my eldest informed me he wanted to dress, yet again, as an athlete.  the boy doesn't stretch too far; in the past 5 years, he's been a soccer player twice and now a baseball player twice.  (his last foray as a dodger was in 2008 -- click here for a trip down memory lane if you're interested.)  we already owned every bit of his costume, all the way down to the way-too-short-but-i'm-glad-i've-kept-it polyester gray pants.

and susanna decided weeks ago that she was going to be a pop star.  we went round and round about this, since she and i apparently have vastly different ideas of exactly what a pop star wears; but in the end, practicality won out and she wore an outfit she already owned for school.  (to spice things up, we located some sparkly sunglasses and a pink feather boa from her dress-up supply.  add those accessories to some bright pink lipstick and hairspray, and a pop star was born.)

i really need to stop bashing halloween.  given the fact that we had not one trick-or-treater this year, i'm actually coming out way ahead financially.

suh-weet.

the pop star and the baseball player, striking a pose

liam required face paint (i have no idea if there's an actual term for this) in his quest to be as authentic a baseball player as possible.  "i know!" susanna exclaimed, her eyes bright with an idea.  "i've got dark eye shadow in that make-up kit i got for christmas last year that you never let me use!"  i knew there was a reason i hadn't tossed it

 i didn't mind her organizing her candy ... it was only once she started counting it that i started to worry.  i'm afraid my cover might be blown