A Detailed Wedding May 16, 2012

Put a rock on a girl’s hand, and chances are there’s one or two (or twelve or fifteen) bridal magazines in her future.  Glossy pictures of what’s possible with celebrity designers and deep pockets are addictive when a girl starts to dream about her own wedding day.  Flowers are no longer just flowers; chairs and china are important decisions; everyone strives for a day that reflects their relationship’s individuality.

Before I continue, please take note.  I, personally, am a great appreciater of all things detailed.  For example, if you send me a card with a unique stamp, I will notice.  While I love all things non-traditional and extra-special, I don’t have the patience to attempt creating anything non-traditional or extra-special myself.

Martha Stewart is known for her creativity and status as Goddess of All Things Handmade.  But she’s got competition!

Meet Kate, a lovely bride whose day was guaranteed to be a wedding chock-full of details… handmade details.  Thoughtful details.  Unique details.  The theme matched her one-of-a-kind groom very well!

 

Kate & Joel were married in a late afternoon, outdoor ceremony at Crystal Gardens in Edwardsville.  Although the entire week had been a target of spotty showers, they were blessed with gorgeous sun.

Three gorgeous bridesmaids wore vintage-inspired dresses in creamy, light-pink tones.  The lace of the bride’s dress inspired lacy details on the handmade programs and table decorations.

The program for the ceremony was, of course, unique.  “Kate and Joel have chosen to perform a Love Letter & Wine Box ceremony.  For those of you who have never seen this before, this box contains a bottle of wine and a love letter from each to the other.  The letters describe the good qualities they find in one another, the reasons they fell in love, and their hopes for their future together.  The letters are sealed in individual envelopes and they have not seen what the other has written.  Should Kate and Joel ever find their marriage facing hardships, they will open this box, sit and drink the wine together, then read the letters they wrote to one another to be reminded of the reasons why they are together.  The hope is, however, that Kate and Joel will never have a reason to open this box.  And if this is the case, they are to open this box to share and enjoy on their 5th year wedding anniversary, replenish and open on their 10th anniversary, and so on.”  They each hammered their half of the box shut, although the carpenter in Joel ensured each nail was wacked sufficiently. 

While places designed for ceremonies and receptions, such as Crystal Gardens, generally have their own list of offered decorations (which are always quite nice), everything at this wedding was 100% Kate & Joel.  I add Joel’s name because he’s one-half of the relationship, but I’m fairly sure it was Kate who dreamed up every detail and carefully crafted together all of her creations.  Joel mentioned that their garage looked like a florist warehouse but didn’t confess to arranging any mason-jarred bouquets himself.

Todd & I had a similar sign at our ceremony, but I most definitely didn’t make it myself.  I’m a guiltless supporter of Etsy and all the people out there like Kate who have the talent and the patience for beautiful handmade stuff!

Some details can’t be controlled– like the weather.  It’s kind of like the Lord’s way of saying “This is still in my hands!”  And the Good Lord decided May 12th would be a warm, sunny day with just a spattering of fluffy white clouds.

 Kate & Joel both looked pretty good that day, but runners-up would be these two handsome fellers.

Ever seen a guest book like this before?  Dozens of antique postcards, already stamped & addressed to the Mr & Mrs, were strewn across a table for the wedding guests to fill out with a loving message and signature.  A mailbox sat open for the finished product.  I’m not sure on the details of this awesome idea; when will they be sent?  Will they all be sent at once?  I’m sure someone out there might know.

Of course they didn’t have a card box, or bird-cage, or other traditional means of collecting cards.  They had a vintage suitcase draped with handkerchiefs propped upon a lace tablecloth.

Kate, I appreciated all the details you incorporated into your incredible wedding ceremony & reception.  Joel, I appreciated your tolerance in letting Kate’s creativity run wild, investing her time on projects guys don’t even think about.  I can’t believe I don’t have a picture of the centerpieces– one-of-a-kind!!!  Maybe it’s because I got sidetracked taking pictures of the most adorable baby, all decked-out for an inimitable wedding extravaganza.

Cheers to Kate & Joel!  May your marriage be as blessed as your wedding day.  May the garage always be filled with creative projects.  May the details that make your relationship solely your own always flourish!

This Is How I Run May 15, 2012

Everyone takes a different approach to running.  Some people keep track of distance, others keep track of time.  Some run with a detailed plan: run 2 minutes at an easy pace, 5 minutes harder, 3 minutes a bit easier, 2 minutes as hard as possible, and repeat.  Some want to run with the promise of a walking break every so often.  Some people train with “tempo runs” or “intervals” and keep track of every pace along the way.

Here’s how I run: I start and then I make myself finish.

I don’t give myself the option to turn around early (exception: creepy guy walking towards me on a country road).  I very rarely give myself permission to walk.  I have no idea what my pace is and don’t even wear a watch.  Once I’ve started, the only thing left to do is finish.  All the thoughts of how much it sucks to run fly through my head, but it doesn’t matter– I started, now I have to finish.  This is what works for me.

That process certainly doesn’t work for everybody, and why should it?

When it came to the exit strategy of a baby from my womb, I adopted the same mantra.  I knew that I wanted a drug-free birth from a combination of the research I’d done, classes Todd & I attended, and my gut feeling.  I knew it would be hard, and I knew I could do it.  Once I started, I would finish.

That worked for me.  There came a point (a little part of labor called transition) where I knew one of two things was going to happen: either the baby would be born, or I would die right there in that tub.  I never considered drugs or other interventions because my mind doesn’t work that way: I had already started, and I would finish.  Turns out my friend was very accurate when she told me “Stay at home as long as you can, then when you think you’re going to die it’s time to go to the hospital.”

Scary?  A bit.  But so is the thought of a half-marathon or (gulp!) a full marathon.  It will take training, it will take strength, it will not be easy.  But then you reach the finish line and suddenly the rest of the journey seems almost insignificant.

Thankfully, I knew what would work for me.  That doesn’t mean for a single second that the route I chose should be the same for everybody– that’d be like telling me to do a “tempo run with intervals” or keep a set pace.  We’re all human, we’re all different, and we all have the right to choose our races.

My first post-baby 5K is on Sunday and I’m pretty excited to see how Trent & I will finish.  We’ll start together and finish together.  This is how I run.

My Mother’s Day Bouquet

Heroism… Bravery… Courage May 11, 2012

Three Firefighters Receive Medal of Valor Award

May 31, 2011 is a date many in the village of Pierronwon’t soon forget.  The firefighters of the Highland-Pierron Fire Department remember that night well; they can easily recount the urgency in the dispatcher’s voice as they were paged to the Schmitt family’s house fire as it was reported that four family members were still trapped inside.

Nearly a year later, three firemen who responded that evening were awarded the Medal of Valor byIllinois’ Office of the State Fire Marshal.  In the nomination submitted by Chief Steve Plocher, Captain Phil Decker, Captain Brian Klostermann, and Stephen Linenfelser are regarded for pulling Kyle Schmitt to safety through a window of the burning home.  Because of the quick and heroic actions made by the firefighters, Kyle was treated and survived the injuries he suffered in the hostile conditions of the burning home.  Devastatingly, it was due to those hostile conditions that Kyle’s younger brother Braedyn could not be saved.  Two other family members had been pulled to safety with the assistance from neighbors before the arrival of the fire department.  The Office of the State Fire Marshal decrees: “The Medal of Valor award is given by the state ofIllinoisto a firefighter for an act of heroism or bravery that clearly demonstrated courage and dedication in the face of danger while in the performance of duty.”

 

At the 19th Annual Illinois Fallen Firefighter Memorial and Medal of Honor Awards Ceremony, held at the Prairie Capitol Convention Center inSpringfield,Illinois on May 10, 2012, Decker, Klostermann, and Linenfelser were presented with the Medal of Valor Award along with eight others from across the state.  During the ceremony, other firefighters were granted the Firefighter Excellence Award and Medal of Honor Award for their actions in dangerous fire situations.  Six families were presented with the Duty Death Gold Badge Award, an award of honor given to the family of a firefighter deceased in, or as a result of, the performance of duty.  The Gold Badge ritual was an emotional reminder that firefighters are trained to “risk a lot to save a lot.”

 

Governor Pat Quinn spoke to those gathered, saying, “I’m glad to be here today, honoring those who understand what true heroism is.”  Illinois State Fire Marshal Lawrence Matkaitis also addressed the crowd: “The amazing bravery demonstrated by the firefighters being recognized here today proves that it takes an extraordinary person to be in this profession.  Day in and day out, these men and women put their lives on the line to protect us.”

 

In speaking about the award, Klostermann said, “I am only accepting this award on behalf of our entire department.  This was a team effort; I am proud to be a part of this department and to serve the residents of the Highland-Pierron Fire District.”

 

To be considered for the prestigious Medal of Valor Award, Chief Plocher submitted a nomination detailing a full account of the fire and harsh conditions, then described the courageous actions taken by Decker, Klostermann, and Linenfelser.  The nomination was reviewed by the ten-member Illinois Firefighting Medal of Honor Committee which is comprised of firefighters throughout the state who are given the task of approving those truly deserving of the honor.  “If it were not for the valiant efforts of Captains Decker and Klostermann and Firefighter Linenfelser in the initial moments of the fire, the unresponsive child they rescued from the back bedroom would also have perished,” said Chief Plocher.

48 Hours Of Vacation May 10, 2012

2 couples, 4 friends:   Not just any friends, but the type of friends that are great to be stuck around during long car rides, messed up GPS directions (“When possible, make a legal U-turn”), and sharing a hotel room.  Not to mention sharing a hotel bathroom!  The type of friends that I don’t feel inclined to pretend around (“Oh, I’d love that restaurant” or “No, I don’t have to pee yet”).  Hands down, the best part of the trip!

Our besties =)

208 miles:  Roadage traveled from home to Osage Beach, Missouri.  And yes, I realize “roadage” is not a word although maybe it should be.

Great view, great wine, great food. Triple wammy.

4 wineries:  One on the way there, 3 on the trip back home.  Perfection would be trading 2 of the wineries for bourbon distilleries, but I’m not complaining!  (Summit Hill Winery, St. James Winery, Three Squirrels Winery, Meramec Winery)

Winery in a remodeled dairy barn? I say yes!

8 bottles of wine:  Because seriously, I’d rather buy new, yummy stuff from a random winery than buy the same-o “tried & true” bottles at the local grocery store.  Spending money on wine one way or the other, right?

Turns out, Joe likes port. Who knew!

6 margaritas:  And even if there’s certainty that there’s not hardly any tequila in the drink early on, now we know it will be found later.  Guaranteed. 

Of course we celebrated Cinco de Mayo at a Mexican restaurant. With 32 oz margaritas.

2 pedicures, 2 massages:  At a spa located on the grounds of the resort, being done by people we could actually hold a conversation with.  Score!

An outdoor wedding reception we enjoyed from a distance.

200 rounds:  Shot of pistol ammo.  That’s from 1 Beretta and 1 Glock, and roughly 2 hours of amusement for men while their wives are being pampered at a spa.  Works for me!

Panoramic view from our hotel room. Sweeeet.

71 ounces:  Amount of pumped breastmilk.  I am 100% positive Trent does not partake of that much in a 48-hour period, but I usually figure might as well take what I can get.  That’s 8.8 cups, 2.1 liters, or 142 tablespoons.  Just call me Bessie and toss me some hay.

Twinkies!!!

110 outlet stores:  At least, there were 110 available.  No, we didn’t conquer 110.  That might require its own 48 hour trip, but I’m willing to accept the challenge someday.

Clever idea for used wine corks… landscaping mulch!

3 smartphones:  One for navigation, one for music, one googling more info along the way.  And as for me, sans-smartphone?  Time to catch up on my stack of magazines!

Mary, I had to include this pic… that is an impossibly adorable baby bump!

15 minutes:  The recommended limit to sit in the hot tub.  Who sits for only 15 minutes when not sharing the space with any awkward strangers?

Meramec Winery in St. James, MO

14,589 steps:  Approximate number of steps within the Tan-Tar-A Resort.  Actually, it may be more.  It’s a neat place, but has an extraordinarily confusing layout that I think anyone with experience in architecture gave up on long ago.  I can’t even put into words all the diagonal walls, misleading stairways, nooks for nothing… for example, we had to wander up short flights of stairs and then take another stairway down to get to our room’s floor.  Weird.

And let’s not leave out the 34 weeks along that Mary was at the time or the 1 Frank who apparently hates his life, hates his job, and hates “making this trip 500 times.”  Maybe the front desk at the resort isn’t for you?

Oh Frank.

Dear (8-Month-Old) Trent May 9, 2012

Dear Trent,

Today was a great day for you & me.  Every day with you is pretty great, but this afternoon you fell asleep in my arms: your big ole’ noggin in the crook of one elbow, your big ole’ booty in the other elbow.  I could think of 1,000 things to be doing but decided against all 1,000 of them just to sit quietly with you all wrapped up in my arms.

You’re at an awesome stage in life.  You see everything, you hear everything, you’re nosy about everything.  I can practically see the amount of learning you’re doing every single day.  But equally amazing is all that you’ve taught me in the 8 months we’ve been blessed with you.  Here’s just a few:

1. Babies are noisy sleepers.  Before I go to bed, I’ll hear you make a noise.  If I get up in the middle of the night to pee, I”ll hear you make a noise.  When I get up at 5am, I’ll hear you make a noise.  But you’re not really awake any of those times; your internal 7am alarm clock is working pretty well right now.
2. Sleepy babies are cranky.  It’s tempting to try to swing you, sing to you, or play with you to end the fussing.  Instead, you quit fussing when I lay you down and walk away.  It’s almost like you’re saying “Geez Mom, leave me alone already so I can rest!”
3. You’ll nurse however much you want to.  I may think you need 10 minutes, but if you’re done after 5 minutes then it’s pretty well impossible to force any more.  Clearly you know what you need and I’ve learned to let the laws of supply & demand rule.
4. When Daddy’s around, you really couldn’t care less where I”m at.  Yes, it makes me insanely jealous.  Someday I’ll learn to let it go. 
5. Little boys can have manly poops.  I didn’t really realize this but now I know.
6. Every time I think “It can’t get better than this!”, it does.  Life is great and you make it amazing.

We’ll keep on teaching each other new things, I promise.  Daddy & I may be looking forward to when you’re older and we can teach you a whole other realm of things, but we are intent on soaking up every precious second with you now as well.

And back to that “I love Daddy more” thing… you do great with Daddy when I’m not around, just like you do great with your grandparents too.  But at the end of the day, I’m still your mommy and that makes me the luckiest!!!

Love you MUCH!

Mommy

Sisterly Love April 15, 2012

I’m not known for having a very fantastic memory– Todd often points out people who were in my own graduating class because I simply don’t remember them (and if I’ve passed you in Walmart, I apologize!).  So I’m certain the memory I’m about to share actually happened, I just can’t promise any details.

For some reason, I think it all started in a grain truck of soybeans.  My sisters & I loved playing in corn or beans; it sure beat the cat-poop-infested “sandbox” we had in the yard (which was actually a tractor tire filled with sand… but we still loved that too!).  In today’s world, such fun would probably be frowned upon by those who think their kids are best kept inside a hypoallergenic home that’s kid-proofed to the max.  Anyway, one of my sisters ticked me off.  I can’t even tell you which sister it was, although Julie might be a safe assumption since our sharing a bedroom was the preface to a generally unstable tolerance of each other.  I voiced apparent hatred of my sisters to my mom, whose reply I wish could be shared verbatim.

“Don’t say you hate them.  They’ll grow up to be your best friends.”

For the hundredth time I’ve realized it, with hundreds more realizations to come, my mom was right.  Although at the time, I’m sure I knew better than her that I didn’t need sisters when I had friends.

It works against the law of averages that my parents would have 4 daughters.  Today, it seems nearly everyone I know who have produced multiple children have had statistics in their favor: daughters & sons, in any mixed order.  I don’t understand how relationships work between sister & brother, but I’m disgustingly lucky to be blessed with three sisters who are honestly also best friends.  It seems like drama is involved in most female relationships and while we encounter our share of “drama”, no such thing dictates our relationships with each other.  My sisters have answered a billion of my questions, from the ones I’m too dumb to deal with (“What’s the sale price if this shirt is 30% off?”) to the ones overwhelming me (“I’m having a breastfeeding problem!”).  We have all stood up at each other’s weddings, meaning many close friends had to be shaved off potential bridesmaids lists with 3 automatic maids already lined up.  Now our lives are filled with children as well, and the amount I lean on my sisters for advice & sanity keeps growing.

All this memory lane crap is leading up to my sharing of pictures from my little sister Jackie’s baby shower this past weekend.  It may have been a rainy day on the outside (particularly ominous of a baby shower don’t ya think?  Hahaha) but the inside was sunny with family & friends (and ALL the sisters!) sharing the excitement for Baby Boy Becker’s approaching arrival.  What a great opportunity to shower Jackie with love (I just keep cracking myself up) and feel the blessing of sisterly love as well.

 

Yay Etsy!

Both grandmas with Jackie & Mom.

Allen’s grandma & mom with Jackie & Mom.

Seesters & kiddos: Julie & Lillie, me & Trent, Jackie, Jenny & John, Mom & Gus.

An equally beautiful & delicious cake– made by Grandma P. of course!

Super adorable baby pictures of Allen & Jackie.

Grandma & her first great-granddaughter.

Mom & Lillie

John doesn’t look so sure about the book “Where the Wild Things Are”.

Opening gifts!

Sleepy boy got worn out by all the adoration.

Workin’ It April 13, 2012

It’s only April, but the mild Spring means farmers are hittin’ the fields hard already.  The anhydrous is being applied, ground worked, and corn planted in quick succession.  Some who’ve had a busy week might be glad for a break this weekend– the threat of rain has been pretty ominous!

Before the work can be done in the fields, maintenance has to be done on the tractors and implements.  Here’s the two tractors ready for work: the one on the left is hooked to a field cultivator, the one on the right is hooked to the planter.  No matter how thorough everything is checked/replaced/improved before hitting the field, chances are something will still break.  Such as… the air conditioner.  But hey, better the air conditioner than most any other part!

Here we are, ready to get going!  I thought it was difficult getting out of the house with everything I’d need during a day in the tractor, but put a baby in the mix and it took me a hundred times longer to get out of the house.  So much for just grabbing a cooler on the way out the door!

It’s no secret that Trent is a fan of bouncy rides, and it sure didn’t take him long to konk out in the tractor.  There’s a good chance he inherited my sleeping gene– it was a rough ride but we had him snuggled tightly.  When I was on my own, I was able to speed up and hit the bumps a little harder.  Good thing there was no chance of my water breaking this time.  Actually, this was the first day in the tractor since I finished chopping corn silage last fall… with my water breaking as I climbed down the ladder…

Trent & I ran the field cultivator through the field to make the ground into a perfect medium for a seed to thrive.  This was about the time I realized the air conditioner wasn’t working– off came Trent’s sweatshirt and socks.  I yanked up my pant legs and pushed up my shirt sleeves, but otherwise stayed completely clothed, thankyouverymuch.  He never once fussed, so I think he enjoyed it.  He slept, woke up and played, and then fell asleep a second time.  Clearly he enjoys my singing as much as he enjoys the bumpy ride.  It’s soothing =)

Now Trent’s watching his grandpa get started planting the corn.

 The dust was flying!  It was a perfect day to work ground… not a perfect day for trying to crack a window and find some cool air!

Working ground is extremely satisfying to me.  You can tell on the right where I’d been, and on the left where I had yet to cover.  Slowly but surely I always get to the far end of the field.

Dad’s kickin’ up the dust on his end of the field too.  It was difficult to get a good shot out my tractor window while hitting bumps aggressively, so pardon the slight blur!

Break time.  I stepped out towards the end of the field to snatch this picture: the blue implement is the field cultivator and the red one is a rolling harrow.  They work together to make the field into a massive garden.

At this point, I was done and put her in park.  You can see my dad still going with the planter in the distance.

Hopefully we’ll get a nice, gentle rain this weekend and by next week I can come out and look at tiny green corn plants reaching for the sun.

Funny story: so here we were in rural country, a house here & there but fields as far as the eye can see.  I took this picture at the same place my nephew John (3 1/2 years old) pointed towards the distance and excitedly said “Look!  There’s a field over there!”  Love him =)

We’re not done with the field cultivator, not done planting corn, and not even started thinking about soybeans.  But it’s only April, and we’re off to a dang good start!  I’m happy to know that Trent likes to ride in the tractor.  Company sure is nice!

Dear (7-Month-Old) Trent April 9, 2012

Dear Trent,

Let me tell you right now– you’ve got it good.

There will come a day when I, your mother, will be your worst nightmare.  At least that will be your opinion.  You’ll probably blame me for all the woes in your life and think my purpose in life is to make yours miserable.  Maybe your dad will be my partner in crime– together, we’re out to get you.

This day may come when you’re 3 and we make you take a nap.  Or when you’re 10 and I pick you up from school right by the front door– with your friends watching.  Or when you’re 16 and we make you come home by midnight.  Or when you’re 17 and get caught doing something you weren’t supposed to (I’m leaving this thought as ambiguous as possible because I don’t want to think about all this could entail).  Yep– I am your worst nightmare.

But maybe someday when you’re absolutely hating me and cursing the fact that God put you on this earth from my womb, you’ll find this on the internet.  If the internet still exists in any familiar form by then.

You have it good.  Celebrating Easter this past weekend is an awesome reminder of how freaking loved you are.  You have 2 sets of grandparents and aunts & uncles who spoil the crap out of you, never tiring of the smiles you dole out indiscriminately.  Your church family lights up when they see your face, and no one complains when you get fussy in the balcony.  You’ve got a mom & dad who not only feed you and wipe your butt, but have also made it their mission to raise you surrounded with fun, learning, respect, and (duh) LOVE.

Nope, not friendship love.  Not “I’ll never let you cry” love.  Not “my kid is superior” love.  Not fickle love, not faltering love.  Rather, the kind of love that began with the decision that your dad & I wanted you in our lives… love that grew with God’s blessing to send you to us… love that continued to grow with 9-months of carrying you in my belly through the hottest summer on record, while you had never-ending dance parties with my bladder & ribs… love that pushed our hearts to new proportions when you arrived as perfectly as we could have hoped… love that continues to grow with every single day that we have the opportunity to nurture your little body and expanding personality.  And this will continue for every single day, whether you’re 3 years old or 10, whether you’re 16 or 26.

So go ahead and hate us when we stick to our mission to raise you right.  Slam your bedroom door, scream into the carpet, shoot us a glare.  It will suck.  Chances are that I’ll shed more tears than you.  But even when you’re hating us, blaming us for your crummy life, wishing you were living under someone else’s roof, I know that 7 months of having you in our lives has proved one absolute thing.

You are loved.  And in your core, you will always know that.  It’s part of our mission too.

Love,

Mom

We’re Beating Cancer, One Bald Head At A Time April 1, 2012

Saturday, March 24, 2012 marked the 3rd Annual St. Baldrick’s event held in the Highland area.  Volunteers with big hearts reached out to their community to raise money to help cure cancer for kids, with their fundraising efforts topped off with shaving their heads at the event.  Those who participated, including paramedics, EMTs, and firefighters from Highland Fire Department and Highland-Pierron Fire Department, wore pins encouraging others to “Ask Me Why I’m Bald” in hopes to spread awareness.

While children facing cancer is a heart-wrenching reality in our world, the St. Baldrick’s event is an upbeat day of smiles, activities for kids, and plenty of good food.  Friends and family of the participants shaving their heads (really just a short buzz-cut, razors could be just too dangerous you know!) gather around the stylists who volunteer their time and tools to make it all happen, cameras clicking and jokes flying.  It may take most people a small amount of time to shave their heads, but the stylists at St. Baldrick’s took their time with each participant: everyone’s head of hair went through multiple phases of design & absurdity!

St. Baldrick’s raised over $2000 this year at the Highland Area event, money that will all go towards finding cures for cancer afflicting children.  Everyone who volunteered & participated can’t wait to do it all over again next year!

Obligatory Cute Kid Pic

Jeremy

Anthony & Jeremy

Nice look!

Smile =)

Todd explaining to the stylist how he wants it done.

Here we go…

Jason

Todd

Twinkies?

Steve & Kyle

Scott & Phil

Phil

Shooter entertaining the kids.

Joe

Ryan & Zack

Zack getting a new look.

Jason, Joe, Emma, & Todd

Dennis & Ty getting started

Dennis & Ty

Someone’s worn out from all this excitement.

Troy

Good looking crew! Great job, guys!

The Bad Guy March 30, 2012

For the first time in a long time (as in, I can’t even remember the last time), I cried during a movie.

I can tell you the last time I cried watching TV– Coming Home on Lifetime gets me every frickin’ time.  When I randomly saw the movie Raising Helen on my Dish guide a few days ago, I remembered having watched it years ago and thoroughly enjoying it.  I often love anything involving Kate Hudson simply because she won me over with How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days and for that, I will always have a girl-crush on her.

If you haven’t seen the movie Raising Helen, it’s the story of 3 young kids whose parents get killed in a tragic accident.  According to the wishes of the parents, Aunt Helen (played by Kate Hudson) is given custody of the children over Aunt Jenny (played by Joan Cusack).  This is a bit of a shocker because Helen is a single, independent woman with zero child-raising experience while Jenny is a Supermom (yeah… one of those).  The movie follows the learning curve of Aunt Helen as she figures out the hard way how to discipline kids out of love (and of course she runs into her own love story, because it is a movie dontcha know!).

At the end of the movie, Jenny finally relents and allows Helen to read the letter that the sister who was killed wrote explaining her after-death wishes.

Dear Jenny, If you’re reading this, you know that I’m gone.  And I asked Helen to be the guardian for the kids.  And you’re probably freaked about it.  Yes, it’s a surprising choice, considering that you are the most incredible mother I’ve ever known.  If you find this letter odd, understand that my “always be prepared” Paul convinced me to write it now while our children are young.  You must know from experience that when it comes to picking somebody else to raise your kids, no one seems right.  No one is you.  And so you choose someone who is most like you.  Someone that will give the kids a taste of their real mom, the mom they lost and never really got to know.  In so many ways, we are so much alike, that’s why I chose Helen.  Of course, she’ll have lots of fights with the kids, yet she’ll find a way to make up.  I know sometimes she messes things up and makes big mistakes.  On the other hand, she also makes big comebacks.  Respect her Jenny.  Give her a shot.  We’re family and I’m counting on you to keep everyone together.  I know, Helen will certainly need some help learning how to be a mother to my kids, but I’ve got you for that.  And who could be better?  After all, you raised Helen, you’ll teach her how to be a mom.  Just like you taught her how to tie her shoes.

Okay moms, wipe your eyeballs off with your sleeve.  Hopefully it’s not a tank-top day.

The fact that Todd & I have had this discussion is the easy part.  The part about “no one seems right” when it comes to raising your kids is the kicker.

It’s tempting to say that no one is allowed the privilege of raising my son if not Todd or myself (preferably us together).  Clearly that’s not the way to look at the situation though.

If Todd & I were to leave this world prematurely and leave a childhood Trent parent-less, he would have so many people loving him & taking care of him that hopefully he’d realize how lucky he is even with the nightmare of no parents.  But wrapping my brain around the idea that there is even an iota of a possibility that this could happen?  Well, I could basically vomit from how hard that makes my stomach churn.

The idea that the opposite could happen too– with him being taken from us– is a thought that I am permanently blocking out of my brain with this period.  I’ve never loved punctuation so much.  PERIOD.

The other thought that this movie raises is that sometimes, discipline is love.  I would even go as far as to say that this is the case OFTENtimes.  Todd & I have already had long discussions about how to find that perfect line with disciplining a child, particularly a little boy.  We want Trent to play in the sand… splash in the rain puddles… not be worried about a little cow poo on his pants.  We want him to know he can make mistakes– but we also want him to learn from mistakes.  It will be an interesting road of toeing that invisible line called discipline and it definitely won’t be fun.  We’re already dreading the reality that Trent will hate us from time to time and think we’re out to make his life miserable.  Todd is the best at reminding that we need to soak up his sunny attitude up now, in preparation for the days to come when our loving attempts to raise him right lead to him deeming us the Devil’s advocates.

But to know that in 20 (or 25 or 30) years, Trent will look back and understand that every decision we’ve made on his behalf along the way were made 100% out of love will hopefully help us be “the bad guy” from time to time that he needs us to be during the pivotal years of childhood.

And should we not be around to be “the bad guy”?  I want to say that no one is good enough to raise my son, but that’s absolutely not true.  Lots of people would probably be even better.  With or without us, Trent will be raised surrounded by love.

But I’ve never wanted to be “the bad guy” so badly in my entire life.  Others are good enough to raise my son, but no one is more right than me.

Dammit.