Home and settled. The boys still seem to be catching up on sleep a little bit though, seeing as how all 3 of them are sleeping right now.

What a crazy 7 days. It seems so odd that they were all back to back, and I feel like so much more happened than I will never have time to blog about.

Camp. Camp was... crazy. Interesting. Not at all like a vacation. It was nice to be at the beach and all, but I traded my job as a full time mom to two handsome boys that I can discipline however and whenever I want for babysitting/teaching 7 freshmen teenage girls that I had little control over.

All of us counselors were reminded several times that we were essentially completely responsible for our students and should know where they were at all times. No pressure right? I felt more intimidated about taking care of them then I did my own kids.

The girls that I had in my group were 3 girls that had attended my small group before, and 4 that I had never met. None of my core group of girls were able to come. This only added to my anxiousness of not knowing what to expect and how they would perceive me.

I was very surprised at the amount of spiritual warfare I saw present that week. Particularly towards the leaders. It was as if the enemy knew that was his easiest way to bring the students down, and did everything in his power to get at us. There were several instances of immediate family members of leaders having severe medical issues, and several other even more intense circumstances that are too sensitive to mention here. I really was surprised by the severity of it. However I was immensely blessed by the women leaders who hung out when we could, and got together to pray for individuals and as a whole on more than one occasion and encouraged on an other. I am so grateful to be in the midst of such amazing women. It's been a long time.

Being fairly new to the youth, and only really dealing with my group of girls on Wednesday nights, I'm not as familiar with this generation outside of my girls. Being immersed in it at camp, I was shocked to see what I think is a really big problem within this generation. A lack of respect. I feel old just saying that. I'm sure every generation has said that about the one behind them, but I really was impressed about the intensity of disrespect and downright undermining of authority.

Mind you my parents did a very good job of raising me to be a polite. In fact I think I called my in laws Mr. and Mrs. Kelly until almost a year after we were married and my MIL finally asked me to stop. It's almost second nature to me, and I still have to catch myself not offending others by calling them too proper of a name. But that's how I roll, and how my children are going to roll, and I think it's important because it teaches you about so much more.

The most disconcerting thing to me about the lack of respect shown is this: if in a camp environment you can't show me or another leader respect, then the chances are you don't show your parents much respect, if you don't show them respect how are you ever going to allow Christ to have any authority and respect His leadership over your life? Not to mention Christ commands us to respect those put in authority over us, even those who we don't agree with (I have a whole soap box on that, but another time...). Hebrews 13:17 got busted out a lot that week.

Camp was good. I learned some things too, which hopefully at some point I will have a chance to blog about. It ended with hugs and a salad (the food was horrible), and my wonderful husband whisking me off to Savannah.

I like that he met me halfway, I felt special getting to leave early and go to a romantic place. Words cannot describe Savannah. We hadn't been away just the two of us since our honeymoon. We probably could have gone to a shack in the woods and had a great time. You almost forget how much chemistry you have together without children involved. We checked into our hotel and got ready to head to dinner. While we were getting ready I was trying to put my bracelet on, realizing that at some point it must have broke. I was bummed because it was the only one I had with me, and I really liked it. Chris came in with a small wrapped box and said, I don't have a bracelet, but I do have something that might make it better. I was quite surprised. We don't usually do gifts because of money, and we especially don't do them when we are going away on a wonderful trip. The box contained absolutely perfect diamond earrings. I could not have picked more perfect ones out myself. Princess cut, screw back, perfection.

Then we went to dinner and had the most amazing meal of our lives. Jazz'd Tapas. If you are ever in Savannah, go. In fact, go to Savannah just to go there. The food was SO good. They had a live jazz band playing that was quite talented too. The only thing that could have made it better was a pastry chef and more energy. Four nights of 5 hours or less of sleep in a row were getting to me, and our dinner reservation was at 9:30.

The rest was great, we did the Trolley tours, walked around, ate at some more wonderful restaurants. We got up Sunday planning to grab a quick breakfast and see a few more spots before we grabbed lunch and headed home. God had other plans. I love it when he has other plans.

We were looking at a map, being obvious tourists trying to remember where Jazz'd was since I saw a great breakfast place across the street from it where we wanted to go. A homeless man came up to us asking if he could help us find where it was. We had already pretty much figured it out, but Chris chatted with him a minute amusing him wanting to help. He offered to help us find it. Knowing where we were going, and my protective husband wanting to be cautious he told him he thought we could get there. Then the guy just asked us if we could get him some food. I was intrigued that he asked for food and not money, as must have been my husband who had been carrying most of the conversation up until that point, because after an agreeing glance from me, he asked him to walk with us to breakfast place.

What proceeded was a very sad story. A Vietnam vet, disabled from depression and diabetes, family who wasn't unable to take him in, and no government assistance. But then God stepped in. Somehow he had found a church and he had hope, things were beginning to look up for him. There were connections he had made, and potential shelter coming in the future. After we got our food (which we were previously going to eat and walk) we sat down and Joseph asked to pray. And pray he did. He thanked God for bringing us to him, among many other things. We chatted with him for a while as he ate, hearing more about his story. He got shrimp and grits, because that's what his momma used to make that he loved, and he hadn't had it in years. We got him some fruit, and juice, to help keep his blood sugar from crashing. We're not cash people (meaning we hardly ever carry it, or much of it) but as we finally left Chris gave him all that we had. He kept saying how grateful he was that God brought us to him.

I was grateful too. Grateful that maybe we could help in some small way, and grateful that God would remind us of His heart. After leaving with Joseph's situation on my mind, and some other things that Chris and I have been dealing with, I'm impressed and confused by God's grace.

I am a blessed woman. I have an incredible husband, and two healthy handsome smart boys. While my house isn't the biggest or even decorated yet, I have a beautiful home, with nice furniture, and two cars. We have found a wonderful church and have the start of some hopefully good friendships. But why me? Why do I get so much? Not that I'm not grateful, but why do I get to have it so easy when some have it so hard? I know I have gone through some struggles, but they pale in comparison to the things that others have had to deal with. I have always had a meal waiting on me. I have always had a roof over my head. I have never gone without medical care. I have never been sexually abused. I have so much, and others have had to fight for everything that they have.

I am grieved by their wounds and what they do without, and I feel so insignificant when I try to help or give, or support with friendship and prayer. My heart hurts for these people and what they have lived with and had to endure, and I'm not sure what to do with that. I know I do what I can, and what God gives me the ability to do and that He will use that. I have faith in that, and the healing power and supplication that only He can provide in such miraculous ways. But sometimes, I just don't understand. And I don't think I'm supposed to. He's God, and He has his reasons. I may not understand or agree but I know that my God is a God of love and mercy, patience and grace, and I must trust that He has these people in His hands, and that He is doing a work that He will get great glory from. So I pray, and do what I can, and most importantly trust in that.

So that is how my week of festivities ended. I'm still processing through a lot of it, but I love how in the most unexpected circumstances (like leading/teaching/caring for seven 15 year old girls, or your anniversary trip to Savannah) God finds a way to teach me, and to humble me, and pull me closer to Him. What a great God I serve.

I leave on Monday for camp. Youth camp that is. I'm going as a leader. I also just found out they made me bus captain. Bus captain? I wasn't scared but between that and the dress up nights I found out they have (luau, movie night, and 70's???) I'm feeling a little intimidated.

I'm super excited though, I just hope that in a short amount of time I'll be able to get a good read on the girls I have (most of my regulars aren't coming) and know how best to interact with them.

I come back from camp on Friday, and then Chris and I turn right around and head to Savannah to celebrate our 5 year anniversary.

Five years. It seems like no time at all. We also have never, in five years, taken a trip just the two of us. Okay, well there was one time we went to a wedding in KC, but it was for one night, and I was 8 months pregnant, March madness finals were on and a bunch of his guy friends were there too. It just wasn't that kind of trip.

It's also the first time we've really got to celebrate our anniversary. We're always having babies or moving. So it's kind of a big deal all around.

I like celebrating our anniversary. It's just an excuse to remind myself again why I'm a very blessed girl. My husband, is pretty much amazing. I know every girls says that, but mine really is.

I have never met another guy more worthy of respect than my husband. Okay, maybe Mr. Hillis, but I think Chris is a lot like him, so it's kind of the same thing. He's just so solid. I know that sounds odd, but I continue to be in awe of his unwavering rock solid views on life. He doesn't ever seem to question if something is right or wrong, he just knows what is right and does it. This goes across the board at church, social gatherings, and work. He doesn't have one face for one group and another for someone else.

His work ethic is beyond anything I've ever seen, he gives 110% all the time. He never slacks on doing a good job, and he has called in sick maybe once or twice in 5 years of working there. He's courteous to everyone and doesn't get sucked into office drama or politics. He helps his co-workers out when they are behind, and when they come to him for questions takes time out of his busy schedule to answer and help them.

This applies at home and church too, whether it be helping around the house (we actually have fights about him wanting to clean) leading our small group, or being a dad. He is always giving himself away to people, and helping to serve them.

He's kind and generous, has a strong moral standard, but isn't a stick in the mud. Somehow he manages to be everything to everyone without compromising any of himself.

Some people think he is quiet when they first meet him which seems so odd to me. I think that it's the fact that he isn't going to run his mouth about nothing. If he has something to say, he'll say it, but he's not going to jump in with a bunch of people and talk just to talk. He's thoughtful and intentional about what he says. And hilarious. There is no one that can make me laugh as much as he can. If you know him well, you know what I'm talking about, no further explanation needed.

Most importantly he is a servant leader. Everywhere, but mainly in our house. I haven't had the best of luck with male authority figures in my life, but there has never been one ounce of fear regarding his leadership of me and our family with him. If there is an area he realizes he hasn't been the greatest in, he doesn't hesitate to apologize.

He's an amazing husband, father (it's kind of ridiculous how much our kids adore their daddy), friend, leader... the list could go on forever.

If there is ever a time where I'm being less than grateful all God has to do is remind me of who I married, and what He gave me. That alone is prompt to worship and praise His faithfulness, goodness, and most importantly mercy.

The very first time I met Chris I told God I wanted to marry a guy like that. I just never imagined I would actually get to marry that guy!

I have self-confidence issues. And I have an overly analytical brain. This is a very bad combination.

It results in thoughts like these, while preparing for a playdate the next morning:

"What should I pack the kids and I for lunch? Should I just pack what we usually eat? But what if they don't think I feed my kids healthy enough, and what if they look at what am I eating and think that is the reason why I'm fat (mind you the kids eat turkey, cheese, and fruit, and I have a turkey sandwich on wheat bread and fruit). I have to go to the gym before it, all my gym clothes are old and ratty, what if they think I'm a complete slob? Should I go home and change first?"

It's so annoying, and it goes on like this all of the stinking time. Especially in social situations, I am always criticizing myself, or wondering if I said too much, or the wrong thing, or a bijillion other critiques.

I've always been a self aware person. Aware of what I'm wearing, how I'm put together, the overall image I'm portraying. However I wasn't always so critical of myself in what I said. In fact I probably used to be not critical enough of the things that came out of my mouth. Now I'm overly critical, and yet I still say overly harsh things all the time.

I think Ukraine, and babies messed me up.

Let me explain that. In Ukraine I was made aware of a lot of negative qualities in myself. While I am grateful that they were brought to my attention, I was not approached in a very kind or loving manner on these issues. In fact many of the things I had even previously liked about myself were criticized while there.

I came home feeling very aware of every little thing I said and did, and felt like everyone was watching all of my mistakes ready to attack me about them just like happened there.

Within two years of that I had a baby. I gained 50 pounds while I was pregnant, and 30 of them hung around. The little self confidence that I had left had been based on my appearance. Add that to a non existent clothing budget (my other crutch), and you can imagine the damage.

Since then I've been able to regain some of my confidence back. It's mostly confidence in who I am, and what I know about myself to be true, i.e. what God has given me, done in me and who He has created me to be.

But when it comes to social situations, I'm a disaster. It doesn't help to be in a fairly new place with fairly new friends, who don't really know me either.

It's a really annoying cycle, and my mind is my biggest enemy. Replaying all of the bad scenes, wrong words used, questionable humor and bad actions. Sometimes I really wish God had made an off switch for it.

So in hindsight, watching Benjamin Button the same weekend my baby boy turned 1 probably wasn't the best of ideas. It only contributed to the echoing thought in my head: how fast this all seems to be going.

More annoyingly I feel as though I have been squandering the precious time I have been given with them as little ones. On the job training is rough.

Thankfully, I'm picking up some of the lessons before it's all too late.

The first year with your first one is incomprehensible. Your too busy just tyring to survive to even think about treasuring moments. Add to that an expectation of moving away from your friends and family, contemplating a career change, and dealing with the additional 30 pounds your carrying around and all that it does to your formerly know self confidence, and you can pretty much rule it out all together. Josh turning a year old was one of the biggest causes to celebrate that I had ever heard of. I was so glad to be done with that.

After moving to CT (shortly after he turned one), I was thrust once again into survival mode. What with no friends, family, church, and a host of other things that we did without, we became focused on getting out of there as quickly as we could. Except in the process of submitting resumes, and repainting the entire house, we forgot to live in the present. Some of my favorite times with Josh slipped by without me taking more careful note of what I was losing.

Then Jack came, and right behind it the move to Georgia. It was all that we hoped it would be. Great house, great people, great church, new friends, and new things to be involved again. Once again we had a life. After living in two years of isolation I jumped at all the new possibilities of doing something. This past semester Chris and I led a small group, I was in a Beth Moore bible study, and I lead a small group of girls in the youth on Wednesdays. Add on to that providing some sort of baked good for my youth girls every week, providing snack for our small group most of the time, a couple of dinners or other cooking obligation for other occurrences, and I have been going almost nonstop.

Then Jack turned one. And I realized even though I had been trying to be more intentional about treasuring the moments I had, I hadn't been intentional enough about making the memories.

I like being busy. I like being able to do everything for everyone and make everyone happy. I like being super mom. Problem is, I only need to be super mom in the eyes of two people (okay, maybe three). And I don't feel like I was doing the best job at that. So with more time off this summer (PTL!) I've been looking at the priorities. Something is going to go, and I will not be saying yes every time someone asks me to make something. Besides I have a business now, they can pay me : )

I don't want to just have more time at home or more down time. I still want to be busy, but busy spending time with my guys, playing with them, taking them to the park, making things that they actually get to help with, and building memories with them.

Parenting little ones is tough work. Anybody who can't admit that has amnesia. It's one of the most draining, exhausting, monotonous jobs. It's easy to get caught up in it and just trudge through trying to survive. In that process you loose sight of the beauty in that period.

I've been in survival mode, and I've done being focused on the "next thing" missing what is right in front of me. I've also done "my thing" being so busy with all my obligations that I forget how quickly it's all going by.

Now I'm going to try to figure out "our thing". Where I get to do what I'm really passionate about, and get the occasional breaks I need to keep me from going insane, but where what needs to be done around the house is getting done, and where both of the boys are getting undivided attention each day. The most important part: letting it be intentional, and not a schedule, or obligation, but really having my eyes open to all the wonderful parts of this time and enjoying it.

I'm just so thankful that God has opened my eyes to this while my oldest is only 4, instead of 18! How great is his mercy!

One of my dear friends once told me that making friends once you're out of college is like dating. I have found that observation to be very true. Particularly since moving to a new area that holds the possibility of new friendships (unlike CT).

Like right now, I have a couple of people that I have found that I consider myself to be friends with, and a handful of additional acquaintances. However, just like dating there is a big difference between just dating, and being boyfriend and girlfriend. I'm not looking to just date (casual friendships) I want a boyfriend (close friend).

I consider myself blessed to have the close friends that I do, however all of mine are a plane ride (or at least a days drive) away. It would be so nice to have someone in the same city that really knows whats going on in my life, who I can call on the phone without feeling weird, go out for a girls night with, and challenge me.

So how do I get there with the potential close friends that I have now? Like in dating does one person have to propose the idea, or declare it? And then there's the obvious, but what if they don't want the same level of relationship that I do? What if they are happy where we are at? What if they're too busy, or have better close friend options, or if I'm just not what they're looking for?

Then there is the issue of if you're friends (analogy for husband and kids) don't like them or don't get along with their friends.

Obviously both being girls there's not one person that's supposed to make the move, so I'm just stuck. Wanting more, but not knowing how to get it. And not wanting to be rejected if I ask for it.

And this is why I have a whole analogy on why the suburbs are like high school. But that is a whole other post.

I had to go to the doctor yesterday. I say had to because of just that I had to. Every spring or fall (depending on the year) in STL I would get a sinus infection. Now for some reason or another in CT I escaped this problem (that makes one positive for CT and 539 negatives). However apparently in Georgia this issue is making it's return.

That is why I had to go to the doctor. I had a sinus infection, I knew what it was, and I knew what I needed (anything other than the z-pak they always try to waste my time on, it never works!). Bu they control the drugs, so to them I went.

Mind you going was a process, since we haven't had to find a general practitioner for Chris and I yet. Lucky for me I was already in my pediatricians office that morning for Jack's ear infection so I asked for a referral while I was in there. Since the place I was recommended to was just around the corner I thought I would see if they had anything within the next hour or two. They practically laughed at me when I asked. Okay, sure I guess I will take 3:15. Right in the middle of my youngest (cranky ear infected, much needed) nap time. Thankfully the hubs came to the rescue saying he would just come home early and flex a few hours. Then I had to get online and print the forms (about 12 pages of them) with my own ink on my own paper, that I paid money for, and fill them out.

So off I finally went. After a chilly greeting (umh hello, do I not live in the south?) and staring at the ceiling (seriously, not even a good magazine) I was ushered back by a nurse who mumbled through a Jamaican accent. She was carrying a computer. She made me put down my bag, take off my shoes, and my sunglasses (?!) and step on the scale. I don't like typing on a computer while I am on a scale.

So we headed to the room. No eye contact, listed symptoms, blood pressure, take off sunglasses (for my BP?!). More typing, and she leaves, mumbling something.

Doctor in, with computer, no eye contact, no introduction, asked to list symptoms, I list them to no response. Typing. Finally she gets up looks in my ears and nose, then sits. Typing. No eye contact. Then she say let's get a sinus x-ray and then we'll go from there. Umh, a sinus x-ray???? Since when did they invent that, and when do they have it in office? I wanted to scream, no, I know what I have, don't make me pay, don't make me pay! But I said nothing, and went to the xray room. Same mumbling nurse, take off sunglasses.

Finally the doctor returns (with computer) to tell me, oh, that's right, I DO have a sinus infection (thank you Captain Obvious) and after trying to sell me on Z-Pak and telling her it has never worked on me she writes me a prescription for some other drug which I presume is a generic penicillin of some sort. Finally, the goods.

I drop off the prescription (of course Walgreen's is taking 1/2 an hour to fill them) and go home. Hubs to the rescue again goes and picks it up. Comes home to tell me the goods cost $130.00. There were no words. Jack had gotten antibiotics that morning and they were $9.00. Pharmacist tried to call the doctor, and surprise, couldn't reach them. And you can't exactly return a filled prescription.

I will not be returning to that doctor, and am already wincing at the very idea of the bill. We're trying to find a new one now, and there will be an interview process. It will consist of: do your nurses and doctors use computers?

I have been feeling rather conflicted recently. Chris tells me it's because I over analyze things.

So I grew up in a fairly affluent area. There was a row of BMW and Mercedes cars at my high school, as well as at our church. I was used to how people in the regular world dealt with money, mainly because they didn't know any better. But a lot of what I saw in the church really bothered me.

I always said I didn't want to have a lot of money, because I have seen what it can do to people. Not to mention the bible speaks over and over of the potential repercussions. It always seemed like something very dangerous to have, and I would have preferred to just stay away instead of figuring out how to handle with care.

Well it's amazing how having two children (and more in the future) to provide for, and living in the suburbs can change your mind.

I guess it was the naivete of my youth when I thought we could just do okay, and still be able to get our kids through college, and eventually build our dream home.

Problem is, I want to be able to put my kids in swimming lessons on a whim, and piano, and soccer, and baseball, and whatever else I or they want to be involved in. I want them to be able to go to any college that they want, and mom and dad not have to say no because of the accompanying price tag. And I want to build my dream house with a wrap around porch, six burner gas stove, double oven, commercial grade refrigerator, and a fun little loft are where my grand kids will love to explore.

But I don't want money.

But I want....

But I don't want money.

See the ridiculousness of my thoughts? Not to mention, my husband has just happened to get himself into a job that he is rather good at and continues to move up in and makes a bit more than that whole music minister gig would have.

So now I want... and eventually I could have... but I don't want money.

I would rather feed children in India or Africa than have a Coach bag. I think spending $30 on any shoes other than tennis shoes is extravagant. Probably 50% of my wardrobe is from Target, and if for some reason my husband wanted to go buy a BMW, I would cry over the amount of mission trips we could have gone on for that price tag, or the number of missionaries we could have supported, or the children we could have fed, or the people we could have given water, or the homeless we could have helped shelter, or the number of women we could have help escape sex trafficking.

But I could justify driving a brand new Acadia, and I'd be okay building that dream house, and I wouldn't argue a larger (okay, existent) clothes budget. Why is it that what I feel is acceptable is the standard? Maybe to someone a BMW is their low end choice as opposed to the Ferrari they really wanted.

That's just like God to make it all about the heart.

I'm struggling with becoming something I didn't want be, or wanting something I didn't want to want. Does that make me a bad person? Or is God humbling me, and reminding me that he showed me all the wrong things that can happen with money so I didn't make that mistake. Maybe not wanting to be that person is enough to not be.