The days are long, but the years…

For those of you playing along, we are down to 7 days of high school classes, 13 days until graduation and 32 days until beach week. I am seriously struggling to believe it is happening.

These are the pics we submitted for Brett’s portion of the Senior Sunday video for church last Sunday:

Six Months old – Myrtle Beach.

I miss that curly head of hair.

First day of Senior Year.

Senior Night with his two adoring fans.
No toothy smile due to still being a brace-face.

Funny thing is, I am loving this season of life. Our children will always be our children. But they are now also adults. Sometimes I forget that. Sometimes I don’t give them enough credit. Until one of them says something like, “mom, I don’t think you are very happy with yourself right now.” *mind blown* and also, *duh.*

I can hold intelligent conversations with them. At least my side of the conversation is intelligent. Their part, depending on which child I am attempting to communicate with often consists of, *blank stare,* *snarky smirky attitude* or “mom, I don’t think you are very happy with yourself right now.” I will leave it to you to figure out which child goes with which response.

I do have to share that, just between you and me, God did not intend for five related adults to reside under the same roof together. At least not of the Wheeler/Smith variety. Our house has never been smaller. Or louder. Or messier. The toddler stage? Oh how I miss it. At least back then I could toss them into their beds and go have a mommy-time-out.

Yes, I realize I stated I am loving this season of life. And truly, I am. Sometimes I forget that, just like when they were little, the days are long and the years are fleeting. So it remains in this season. And just like when they were toddlers, I will hug them tight, when they will allow me to. I will watch them when they don’t know I am watching, soaking in their faces. And I will thank God for them every night before I (hopefully) fall asleep. And just like when they were younger, sometimes my thanks to God includes, “thank You for stopping me from beating some sense into them today.”

I know y’all can relate to that last one.


Writing. And Sharing. Part Two.

I have asked y’all before, so I won’t ask again *but if you want to give me input…that’s cool* about topics that you would like to see on This Girl. I’m looking back over all your input and I’m pulling together…A Plan. Not a list. A Plan. Just sounds more…official? We will go with that.

In the mean time, here’s A List of some things on my mind/observations/annoyances:

I am still in major purge/reorganize/clean up mode. Here is the ugly reality of my desk clean-out. I’m waiting for Staples to deliver some organizing containers. *that’s my story…*

Tomorrow my eldest (oldest? when do you use one or the other?) turns 24. Since I’m only 42 right now, the math is really cutting it close. Pretty soon I am going to have to start lying about HIS age. *Not that I’m lying about mine, of course*

My guys are going to the Nats game tonight. The weather is absolutely gorgeous. I feel great. No one else seems to be ill. I’m regretting declining their invite. But it will be quality bonding time for the three of them and they can do whatever a dad and his two *pretty much* adult sons do together at a MLB game when mom aka Killer of All Things Fun isn’t around.

I’ve totally given up on my weight worries. No particular reason other than I’m doing the best I can. I’m eating healthier most of the time. I’m trying to be more active. I just don’t have the mental and/or physical ability to get serious about it. Yet. Besides, dropping 50 pounds before Beach Week…as if.

Thirty-Seven days until Beach Week, by the way.

Eighteen days until My Baby graduates from high school. Still seems like a long way off. Talk to me when we are in single digits.

Is it just me or are people really getting crankier now that the weather is warmer? As I was driving home from work yesterday afternoon (I work one mile from home, by the way), I was honked at; flipped off; and had some lunatic try to pass me on the right side as I was trying to turn right into our subdivision. People need to chill.


Seriously. I have no words.

Writing. And sharing.

I have been writing. Some. Just not for public consumption. I’ve been taking lots of photographs. Another medium for my creativity. Or maybe I’m just scared to post the thoughts I’ve written. A little of both, perhaps.

So much is happening in my our world right now. Babies growing up. Babies being born. Babies being mourned. So much to get done. It’s often difficult for me to determine what is truly important and what I can…should let slide for another time. So I make lots of lists. I tease My Man about his anal, logistician lists but honestly…I make several lists each day. I can tease him because I keep mine hidden…he sticks his to the fridge front for all to see.

And that’s okay. His list is a reminder of all things needing to be done. My lists are more like…wish lists. Get up early. Walk. Weights. Healthy breakfast. Time with the Lover of my soul. Organize. Clean. Purge. Repeat.

And I think that my lists are okay too. Each day I do eat more healthy. And I force my people to do so. Each day I purge a bit of stuff and organize a bit more. The walking and the gym and the yoga will come along. Sooner more so than later.

The Princess with her great-grandmother, grandmother and mommy

For a few more days, my two oldest are both 23. Only 11 months (and a day) apart, they might as well be 11 years apart. So different are they. I know that is true of all children. Twins and Irish twins alike. I can barely remember any of them at 3 weeks of age. The age of sweet baby girl next door. I am admittedly obsessed…totally in love with her. Confirming again that I am so ready for grands. In the proper order I tell my three. My oldest two are now older than The Boy. At least in life years. In eternity years he would have turned 26 this year. Even his baby sisters are quickly gaining and in another year and a half, will pass his time here. And my baby, The WILD Boy. How he makes my heart laugh. So unlike them all. So like all of them in a tiny feather plucked way from each.

My and mine…Disney

Writing is easy. It’s the sharing that is difficult. Thank you for sticking around for the ride and your words of encouragement.

Andy and his mom, my baby sister