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Be A Man With A Workshop

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Besides being incredibly handsome, my man is handy!  

For the past four years, we have lived in a house that we have been continually renovating – windows, roof, build a workshop, painting, garden, hedges, gates, these are just a few of the projects that we have done.

We are now renovating our new house BEFORE we move into it.  In the four years that we lived in the 29th Crescent house, Sexy Neck NEVER got to unpack his workshop.  The workshop was built last year, but due to continual renovations, he never took anything out of boxes.  

This week, Sexy Neck unpacked his boxes for his workshop.  You should have heard the excitement in his voice.  It truly was like a kid at Christmas.  

I am so proud of my husband for hiring someone to help with our renovations and now for taking the time to unpack his workshop.   AWESOME.  The three boys are going to love all the projects you can make together: bike stand, bird houses, planter boxes  just to name a few that the boys want to do with you! 

ImageSexy Neck’s workshop in the garage

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Be a Birdie In A Garage

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This little guy got stuck in my parent’s garage last night. 

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The birdie got to hangout with our favourite book, Goodnight Moon plus all the bikes, wagons, golf clubs.  The boys were very excited to be a birdie rescuer as we hit the button for the garage door and the birdie flew to freedom.   I love the garage.  We have never had one, but will have one in the new house once we move in.    

Do you have an garage secrets we should know?

Jesus Christ, psychology, Self-help

Be Remembering

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I remember running in fear to and from the stop sign,

searching, looking for the boogie man.

I remember monsters lurking under my bed and around every

corner and in every closet.

I remember fire, falling and blindness in my dreams,

sometimes I still remember those.

I remember being trapped in a bin, outside the house,

in closets, in darkness.

I remember being shut out, turned from, not listened to,

I ran away alone.

I remember sleepovers I didn’t want to be at,

many I came home from.

I remember feelings of discomfort, judgement, inability to live up to expectations,

oh ya, I still have those.

I remember fearing alcohol, the effect on my body and others.

I remember preaching abstinence from it.

NOW I know in my body the light,

I remember God’s light shining in my basement bedroom in 1995,

I remember God’s love, His acceptance, His peace, His kindness, His grace.

I remember His ways are not my ways.  Everything doesn’t have to make sense.

I remember God is who He says He is in the bible, in nature, in wise people around me.

I remember the fragrance of heaven surrounding me.

I remember to trust, let go of performance and to REST.

I remember the FoRest, by the pond where God meets me.

I remember His word is alive and active in ME… yup me.

I remember to swing and to allow God to push me.  Swing Joanna!

I remember that I will be healed in 2013.  Glory, Hallelujah.  Thank you Jesus.

My Favourite Song to end off this post:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8welVgKX8Qo

Family, psychology

Be a Neighbour

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I am in shock that someone could make a homemade bomb to hurt citizens, athletes, and spectators at the Boston Marathon.  I doesn’t make sense.  It is cruel, hurtful and evil.  I am in despair and I feel very sad.

What can I do? How can I help?

I feel hopeless, but then I realize that there are people all around me.  People hurting, people needing support and I know that I can do only one thing in this moment of sadness:

I can be a neighbour.

I believe in my heart that if we really knew our neighbours, our world would be a better place.  If we took the time to really LOVE and understand our neighbours.  If we took the time to listen and care, we would not have so many human beings that feel so disconnected from each other.  Many people willing to kill each other.

In my despair, I stand on my soapbox and ask, could be a neighbour?

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Our neighbour pumpkin carving night! 

Here is what being a neighbour means to our family, on our street, in our small town:

  • Give your neighbours your phone number. (Once you get to know them.)
  • Lend them things – we tend to lend out a ton of baby/kids stuff.  Imagine that!
  • Borrow things from them – ask for some milk or a couple of eggs
  • Get to know your neighbours.  We know everyone on our block as well as their parents, grandchildren and a few aunts and uncles.
  • Ask the neighbourhood kids to walk your dog or take care of the lawn.  It gives them purpose and value.  (If they don’t accept, don’t worry.  Keep asking!)
  • Drop off some cookies or a candy bar or a pizza if you know someone in the neighbourhood is sick.  Nothing fancy, just something from your family.
  • Celebrate special events: I know people do block parties (we aren’t that fancy), but we do have card nights, BBQ’s and I have even hosted a yoga class in my living room.
  • And our personal favourite for our street: If someone walks down the road, say hello and smile.  Simple and sweet!

I think being a neighbour also involves someone being in the home during the day.  I think if more families had a parent at home (at least part time), many of our North American problems would disappear.  Perhaps even huge bombing (and future bombings and shootings ) like the Boston Marathon Tragedy could have been prevented.

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Be A Worker

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I live with three little men and one big one.

I am immersed with strange noises, tree climbing and nightly wrestling sessions on a daily basis.

I haven’t quite figured this whole ‘boy’ thing out yet, but I read a ton of books about boys and spend many hours observing my blessed, interesting, little men.

This morning was a light bulb moment.

My men love to WORK.

If there is a job to be done, it is done. If there is wood to be moved it is carried together while singing. If a machine is being worked on, my little men are there.

Amazing! I love my little workers! Well done this morning boys!

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Be A Morning Person

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I am sorry folks, but I am not a morning person.

I almost flunked Psychology 100 because it was an 8am class. Studying by sleeping with the textbook under my pillow might have been another reason. (Boys, don’t try this. It does not help you absorb the information.)

Before children, I used to sleep til noon on the weekends. As a teenager, it was usually early afternoon before I awoke. When Sexy Neck and I lived in a small French town, the grocery store would close between noon and 2pm. Most days, the crazy Canadians could be seen sprinting to the grocery store before it closed at noon for a fresh baguette or some milk.

Since having children, I have been blessed. All three of my boys wake up happy, singing, chatting, cuddling.

This morning, as I breastfed our youngest in a sleepy stupor, our oldest popped up beside the bed with this drawing:

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Wow! First, who would get up and immediately start drawing? Second, how did this nighthawk, grumpy morning person Mama get so lucky to have so much love at 6:30am.

Flexibility, Parenting, psychology

Be Taking The Cake

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Four years ago, I searched all over our small town for a sun hat. I was pumped when I found this hat until I brought it home.

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Sexy Neck refused to allow CC to wear this hat. I won’t share all the words expressed about this awesome hat, but ugly was one of them. Our son never wore the hat.

Three years ago, a very good friend Double D, had a baby girl. She was looking for a summer hat so I decided to pass on CC’s never worn hat. (Yes, I had kept it!)

Double D graciously took my generous gift, but again this hat never touched her beautiful little girl’s head. Instead it has become a three year joke where we pass it back and forth in hilarious ways.

Two days ago, Double D took the cake in returning the hat to me. (I had put it in her daughter’s third birthday gift a few weeks ago.)

Can you believe this?

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SHE HID THE HAT IN A CAKE! I had tears in my eyes when she handed me the cake she baked. I felt so grateful. I had tears in my eyes as I cut the cake. Our family was laughing and shaking our head at our brilliant friend.

I guess the hat will be hitting the dress-up box. How can I possibly top this cake?

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My boys modelling the hat for me.

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Why doesn’t anyone like my hat? I just think it is darling!