Emma is nearly 17 months. She's easy going, playful, and a sweet addition to our family.

 

 

 

 

I know it's a blurry picture, but I'm convinced angels sing when they see this garage! This has been a summer of organizational projects and major clean out.   I wish I had a before picture. The walls were white with streaks of off white and I, not being a fan of two tone paint, paid Fermin (my favorite handy man) to paint the walls and ceiling, and stain the floor. The best part was that I found the wall paint in my basement. Thank you, people who lived here before us! That was a fun surprise. The bike rack, which is my favorite thing, gets the kid's bikes up and off the floor. The less you have on the floor, the better. Yes, I will have to get them down, but that doesn't bother me so much. I know it's just a garage but every time I pull in, I get happy.

I feel like my summer is slipping away so I plan to make the most out of July. We've got a few short trips planned, lots of visits to the pool ahead, and I have more things I want to get done in the house. I have a dining room light coming this week that I'm excited about and a little scared of! Amy, my friend who also helps me decorate, calls it a "statement piece". It's different but I have a feeling I'm going to love it. We shall see!

Have a wonderful Tuesday.

 

~stacey

 

 

 

I'm late to the party but here it is.

A friend of a friend started a "Where I Blog" post and invited people to share their creative space. If you want to join in, visit here

Where I blog! I'm in one of two places. My kitchen or my couch.

First, and most boring, is right smack dab in the middle of my kitchen.

I'm always on the hunt for a comfy chair to replace my garage sale chair. It's pretty but oh so stiff.

Aside from the planter that is supposed to have something in it to hide all the ugly cords, the pony tail holder on the floor, and the high chair tray on the table, there's not much to talk about. Not an exciting space but this room is a busy one.

 

This is my comfy spot. And my favorite sandals.

My laptop is Brad's ancient one and doesn't have much life left I'm afraid.

 

So there you have it. Where I blog.

 

~stacey

 

 

14 years ago I took a chance. With every thing I knew about Brad, I loved a good man but I also knew that only time reveals everything about a person.

Let's be honest. Marriage is a crap shoot.  But being head over heels, I rolled the dice and gambled on the hopes that the man I would commit my life to would always love me.

I remember writing him a note asking him never to change. "Promise me you won't get tired of me." I pleaded. "Tell me I won't get boring or become 'old hat' to you. Will you like me after I have a baby or when I look older?" 

Here I sit, six moves, 10 and half years of school, four children, and a whole lot of laughter and tears later, thankful to say that yes, he still loves me. He even likes me still.

The other day, I pulled out my little keepsake box of stuff from when we were dating. The first thing I found made me smile. If you know me, you know I'm a list person. ~A planner.~ Always have been. If it's not written down, there's a good chance it won't happen.  In 1994, at the ripe old age of 19, I wasn't dating anyone and decided to write down things that I knew would matter to me. Things I would do my best to find out about the guy I would marry. Maybe my list was a little naive, because it's only by God's grace that I got what I thought I was getting. I'm still amazed at how much Brad is what I wrote down. 

First on the list was, "Must be a hard worker."

He spent an entire summer in the sweltering heat of south Georgia raking pine straw. He made his own baler, sold, delivered, and put out straw.  He took me to dinner with the money he made, but hid most of it in a sock in the top of his closet. He would just smile and tell me he was saving it. Now, I rarely look at my engagement ring without seeing pine straw, Brad's big red pick-up truck, his sweat stained t-shirt, dirty khaki pants, and usual smiling face. I would drive out sometimes and watch him rake and bale, rake and bale, rake and bale. I don't remember him ever being grouchy amidst all the gnats, mosquitoes, and humidity.  He was a man on a mission.

The rest of my list pertained to character issues. Things like did he have integrity, would he value his family, did he practice self-control whether or not people were watching? Yes, yes, and yes.

We had been dating only a month or so when we had our first serious conversation. I knew he was leaving for Auburn that fall and I didn't want to be a long distance pain in the neck for him.  If he wanted to date and have the "college experience", I would certainly understand that. Of course, that meant I would be a little more guarded and would have definitely put the brakes on a bit. I remember when I said that, he was a little horrified at the thought and quickly said,

"No. What I want is right here in front of me. I don't want to look around."

I still love that. He saw no value in "playing the field". He was decisive about me and still is.

It's impossible to sum up 14 years of marriage in one xanga post. But I can tell you where I started and where I am at the present.

I started off excited, young, infatuated, eager, half ignorant, full of mystery, scared, poor, madly in love, and certain I was marrying the right guy.

Now, I am hopeful, satisfied, content, not quite so ignorant, settled, full of warm memories and hilarious stories. We are rich in blessings and I am deeply in love. ~Deep. Not mad.~ There is a difference. I am loved by someone who knows every stretch mark on my body. He tells me to smile and points out where my wrinkles will be. He thinks I look pretty first thing in the morning. We both have a few battle scars.

Have we hurt each other? Yes.

Have I said things I regret? Yes.

Have I ever been so mad at him I could have spit nails? Absolutely Yes.

Does he leave dirty sock in the den floor? MmHmm.

Am I still certain I married the right guy? You bet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy 14th, Brad! 

 

 

~stacey   

                                             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would SO like to call the mother that sent her kids to the pool today with the babysitter.

The babysitter that I do not know but who mortified me as she sat in a chair about 15 feet away from the pool, facing the opposite direction, while she passionately texted her sweet little heart out on her cell phone.

The two boys she was "watching"? Have no idea.They were swimming, I guess. I'm sure they were fine but I had to resist the urge to  go pat her little leg and say,

"Darlin', I assume you are getting paid to babysit these children. Babysitting usually requires your eyes and your brain. If you don't actually use your eyeballs, they can't send messages to your brain to tell you to move your 98 pounds in the unlikely event that they should need help." 

I am well aware that awful things can happen to your kids even when the Mama is watching. I'm not above making mistakes.  I've forgotten one of my own at preschool until 5 minutes past pick up time, had one swallow a penny, get a concussion, knock a tooth out, and a host of other things (all on my watch), but dude. I mean at least if your watching them some of the time, they've got a fighting chance! 

~~Aie Yie Yie.~~Those kinds of "babysitters" unnerve me.

Just had to get that off my chest. Whew. Okay, well, I'm off to get my crew fed, and settled down for the evening. I think we'll skip baths. They swam today and chlorine does have some disinfecting qualities.  

 

 

~stacey

 

 

Reese was my only willing model this weekend.

This 40 minutes or so, was the only time I really used my camera this weekend. Thank you, Reese for giving me my fix.

Other than that, we rested, fished, canoed down the river, ate good food, took walks (to help work off the good food), played in the creek, ate watermelon, rode the "mountain goat", did a lot of sporcle quizzes, shot one snake and one squirrel (not me, of course), played laser tag and rode bumper cars, established/purchased my domain name for my dream of a photography business, ate more good food, marveled at Emma's sweet fat legs, and enjoyed some of the finest company and scenery around.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~stacey

 

 

 

Listening to Avery explain this picture to Brad was priceless. His blue cape, big muscles, and goggles. He's her super hero. 

 

Last night, the girls walked through the den while American Idol was on. For whatever reason, they think James is cool. They stood mesmerized by the his performance and had this little conversation while they stood glued to the t.v.

Avery: "He is so awesome. I just love him. I want to marry him."

Reese: "Well, you probably can, 'cause I don't think he's married to anybody else."

A: "Does he live around here?"

R: "I don't know but as long as he's in America...."

A: "Well I'm going to find him and marry him."

R: "Avery, he has to ask you first."

 

 

 

 

    

 

 I was horrible to my skin this last weekend. I should know better than to let myself get burned but my back and shins got f.r.i.e.d. 

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I've had lots of thoughts swirling around in my mind the last day or so.

I'm so thankful for Abby and Katie who caught my verbal vomit last night and this morning. (Sorry girls that you had to endure my blabbering but you're the best kind of friends )

I'm thankful for a God who leads me back to His Word for truth. 

I'm thankful for parents who gave me a solid foundation and taught me to take my thoughts captive. 

I'm thankful for a husband who values my position in our home. 

I'm extra thankful for the reprieve of summer. 

 

This is the kids' comprised list of our summer "to-do" list.   I love it. 

 

 

~stacey

 

 

 

   

  

 

 

 

 

 

     

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you, Sward family for such a generous invitation.  This weekend blessed us in more ways than I can communicate.

~stacey

This weekend was ballet recital. If you know Avery, I need not explain her temperament.   She is hot or cold. She can, on occasion, "cry" without producing a single tear. I have actually offered her a quarter if she could squeeze out a real tear during a recent "crying" spell. Couldn't do it. (She ended up laughing, though)

Things work a lot better if it's her idea. Don't push her. On the flip side, she is incredibly maternal, nurturing, and usually unselfish.

However, she will not, for the life of her, do any part of her ballet dance at home. Not for anybody. Not for Grandma, not for me, not for her sister. But when the theater curtain is pulled back, she becomes a smiling, radiant performer. It's amazing. She's just beautiful to watch. I guess I might be a little partial but oh well.

Reese was a competitive gymnast for the first time this year. Gymnastics is a sport that requires a LOT of time from day one. As a first grader, she spent three and a half hours in the gym every week and if she continues, starting in June, will be in the gym about six hours a week. Needless to say, we are in a dilemma about what to do with her. She likes it, is good at it, and absolutely loves competitions. But is it worth the time? She would enjoy several different things at this point. We have four children and want to preserve our family life. People say, "As long as you have quality time together, that's all that matters."

BUT. You can't have quality without quantity. We need wisdom on this decision. 

Jake is easy. He's settling in to golf lessons. Loves it and has a knack for it. He'll play flag football in the fall like last year. 

I have a very wise friend. I used to babysit her children and she once told me, "Stacey, enjoy these few years when your children are babies, toddlers, and young children. Right now it's physically exhausting, but when they get older, and start making their own choices, you will be emotionally exhausted."

I am finding those words to be true already. My children, Jake and Reese in particular, are taking little, tiny baby steps towards independence. I can't force their attitudes. I can't make them want to choose the right thing. I can't tell them, "Be kind!" when they're at a friend's house. ~~~I can't force their hearts.~~~ That truth scares me a little. So begins my own choice to trust the One who made them. They are His and He will be faithful. 

 

You know how people say when you're lying on your death bed, you won't be thinking how you wish you'd worked more? I know I won't wish I had been busier or spent more time running around crazy. I want to focus my time and energy on my family, which is the main thing God has put in my hands to do for the next few years. Seasons will change, there will be time for other things later but until then, I want to make the most of these years. I spent the last couple weeks so incredibly busy, I felt like I was barely present for my kids. (Physically or emotionally)   I intend to avoid that being a regular occurrence. 

 

Yesterday was unusually cool so last night, Brad, the kids and I got the fire pit out in the back yard, grilled chicken and burgers, and ate by the fire. The kids loved it. And it was nothing more than time. Avery said, "Thanks for letting us have the funnest night ever." It made me want to hurry up our plan to go camping.  There's some good family bonding that comes from camping. Trust me. I know. We grew up camping and I could tell some hilarious, and some not so hilarious stories. But every memory camping is a memorable one. No tv, no computers, no cell phones, just time. 

Yep. We've got to go camping.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~Little girls become big girls awfully fast~

 

 

~stacey 

 

My Daddy.

Truth is, I don't call him Daddy all the time like I did growing up. Somewhere along the way, it got shortened to Dad.

But when I think of him, when I picture his jet black hair or his wide, brown hands, my heart says Daddy. 

What makes him unique is that he's about as close to perfect as you'll ever find.         ~~~~~~~     Of course I don't mean perfect perfect-but as a father to me, there couldn't be a better one on the planet.  

He's soft spoken and mild mannered. Good natured and pretty much an eternal optimist.

On Saturday mornings at the Fitzgerald house, we were frequently awakened by LOUD Marine Corp Band marching music. Being a former Marine himself, and a true patriot, nothing else made more sense. Funny thing, I don't remember  any of us being terribly annoyed by it. I'm sure we had our days but somehow it forced us to get up, get our day going, and get happy about it. We weren't slouchy on the weekends. There was always yard work to do.  Pine straw to rake and sticks to pick up. To this day, Dad loves nothing more than the smell of a burn pile. Of course, there's was usually grilling out and a movie or much loved hand stand contests that followed the work.

He's witty and can fix just about anything. He's a motivator. An encourager. I could listen to stories from his childhood or  boot camp all day. 

I can remember few days where we didn't all gather in the den morning and night for what we called, "sharing time". We spent a few minutes in the Bible,  talked about our day, and prayed together. We had honest conversations and didn't brush things under the rug. We were a team: the good, the bad, and the ugly. This was mostly due to his leadership and commitment to being a Godly example to us.

 

 

  

 

 

Today, he's the person I would call if I needed sound, no panic wisdom. He has a calming effect on me that warms my heart.

Even though I'm 36, he still makes me feel safe. Everything will be okay because he says it will.

After all, he's the man that got up in the middle of the night twice to go get his scared little girl who just wasn't quite ready to spend the night off.

He's the man that same little girl followed across the boulders at the Chimney's in Gatlinburg because she knew if her foot could just step exactly where his did, there's no way she would slip. Even if she did, he was right there to grab her.

His was the arm she clung to when they waded out into the ocean in search of the first sand bar. She couldn't touch but he could. 

 

 

 

 

Some of my favorite things he says:

 

 "I feel so good, I could grab a tree and shake the world!" 

 

 "I've been spit on, laughed at, and kicked, but never insulted."

 

 "Lord deliver me from two things. Folding fitted sheets and trying to find keys in a woman's purse."

 

HaPpy biRtHDaY, Daddy!   ~~~I Love You~~~

 

~stacey

 

 

 

Monday night I spent the better part of each and every hour in the bathroom. Can't remember my last stomach virus. Guess I was due.

Needless to say, Tuesday morning I was wiped out. I knew Brad had a 7:00 a.m. case which meant the morning routine of four kids would be up to me per usual. I managed to get one lunch packed, four "breakfasts" made, bottle to Baby, four kids dressed, and one taken to school. I pleaded with my sweet kids to be really helpful and they were. Did most of the morning on their own, actually....I was more an overseer.

Tuesday night, Emma got a touch of what I had plus a pretty nasty cold. She and I spent the better part of that night bonding. ~ahem~

Wednesday night, I bounced back and forth between Jake's room and Emma's stuffy nosed self. All night.

Thursday night is a complete blur. Maybe I slept some.

Last night I "slept" on the couch, in ear shot of Avery, who is finishing her turn with this little four hour nuisance. 

I'm tired. Tired but thankful.

This Mother's Day morning, Brad came to the couch, picked me up,~~~(the girls always stare in amazement when he picks me up. I don't know if it reminds them of movies they've seen or if they are in awe that he can actually carry me)~~~anyway, he deposited me in my wonderful king size bed, gave me a quick back scratch, told me to go back to sleep and quietly shut the door as he left to do the morning. I woke up an hour or so later to an omelet.

We all went to lunch, then it was me and the Suburban. On a date.

I stopped in Bed, Bath, and Beyond in hunt for a skinny organizer tray thing to slide between my washer and dryer to put my detergent and stain stick on. They didn't have anything like what I needed, so I moved on to Dick's Sporting Goods. I know. Why was I there, you ask? Looking for a turkey decoy.  They were on sale and the guy I live with happens to really like turkey hunting and sales.

Ran in Super Target, grabbed Jake a pair of shorts. He recently informed me that he was dying for shorts that went below his knees. I felt really bad, like I was making him wear shorty shorts all this time. Had I known it was only cool if they hit well below the knee rather than right at the knee, I would have remedied that situation a long time ago.          

Bought a few groceries, came home, and have been doing laundry ever since. 

What a week it was. It's strange how you can be so incredibly tired and so very much at peace at the same time.

This week is full with school, ballet rehearsals, recitals, field day, birthday party, gymnastics, golf, college graduation, pre-k graduation and party, about five gifts to find, buy, and wrap, and I'm sure I'm forgetting something.

Wish me luck!  (and happy mother's day!....what's left of it.)

 

 

 

~stacey