How we planned our family road trip

We took a family road trip last week. It was a long but rewarding journey with the five of us plus Jennifer's parents and grandmother. We drove about 2,400 miles and were in the car for over 53 hours. I'm not sure how many miles we walked or steps we took, but it was a lot. Somehow we still managed to gain weight! Our trip went from home to Philadelphia, to Boston, to New York, to Amish country, to Roanoke, to home.

I just wanted to highlight a few things we did to make the trip go as smoothly as possible.

Transportation

We rented a premium SUV from Enterprise. It was to be a Chevrolet Suburban or similar. I was hoping for a Suburban as I've always loved those vehicles since I was a kid and was looking forward to driving one on an extended trip. We ended up instead with a Ford Expedition EL. 

We opted to purchase the damage waiver, which was $20 PER DAY. That's a lot, I know, but I'll explain why we did it. First, we were planning to drive through a few big cities. Drivers can be crazy and we thought the extra measure of protection would be prudent. I checked with our insurance company who confirmed that the coverage on our vehicles extends to the rental vehicle, for the most part. However, if we got in an accident that could have an impact on our premiums in the future. Further, if the vehicle was damaged the rental company could charge us for "lost wages" of sorts related to the time the vehicle was out of commission. I also checked to see if the credit card we rented with provided coverage for rental cars. The only card we have is an American Express, and THEY DO cover rental cars. However, there are some exclusions, and one of them happens to be full-size SUVs! So that wasn't going to help. It turned out we didn't need the damage waiver, but I still think it was a wise decision for peace of mind.

The Expedition EL was a terrific road trip vehicle. It was so comfortable the entire ride with plenty of room for all eight passengers. You know how usually on a long drive you feel the need to adjust your seating position since your, ummm, upper leg might fall asleep or your legs are uncomfortable? I can't speak for everyone else, but I never felt the need to re-position at all the entire trip while driving. Now that is comfort. We also had enough room behind the third row to keep the luggage packed such that the driver could still see out the back window mostly. That's pretty good! 

Gas was about $2 per gallon during our trip, so we caught a break there. The vehicle averaged 18 miles per gallon including highway and a lot of sitting in city traffic. On a side note, just know if you travel up north in and out of cities you will pay tolls, and you will pay a lot. We spent over $100 in tolls during the trip. For your reference, you can purchase an EZ Pass transponder that works for any of the states in the Northeast pretty much. It starts in North Carolina and covers almost every state through Maine. This Delaware site has a good map. You DO have to load it with plenty of money online, however. But, if you forget or don't have enough, it's okay. They'll bill you.

In the cities, we took very little public transportation. We did do a lot of walking, but public transportation wasn't a good option for us with a larger family group including people who weren't used to it. We did take a ferry into Boston, and we rode the ferry from Staten Island to Manhattan. Philadelphia has a great option called Phlash that allows unlimited rides for a day for $5 per person. Kids four and under and senior citizens ride for free. We also bought an all access pass in Boston that included a trolley we could hop on and off. That was a great idea in our case and worked out well.

Lodging

With eight people in our group, we figured it would be a challenge to get book one room to house all of us. You may think we are crazy for even wanting to room together, but we had our reasons. One of the reasons is that our kids love their grandparents and like to hang out with them. Rooming together would allow that along with easy communication. I actually found a great site that is designed for finding hotels for large groups or families. It is www.sixsuitcasetravel.com. The site allows you to enter a city and a mile radius. Then it displays the hotels and indicates how many people it can hold. This made it easy for me to find hotels that had suites holding up to eight people. The first two nights we stayed in Mount Laurel, NJ, in a Staybridge Suites. I have nothing but good things to say. This was basically a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment including a kitchen and living room. One bedroom has two double beds and the other a queen. There was also a pull-out couch bed. 

The second leg of the trip we stayed three nights near Boston in an apartment booked on www.airbnb.com. This was our first time using Aibnb, and it was a terrific experience. I think you just need to be careful to look at the reviews and ask plenty of questions if the descriptions or photos do not provide a clear explanation of something you are concerned about. The key is to make sure it is exactly what you are looking for and think it is. There are other options for this type of rental, of course, but this one worked out well for us.

The last couple of nights were in a Best Western Plus resort and in a Hampton Inn. Both were nice stays, and the former had an eight person suite.

Attractions

In Philadelphia, a lot of the things we wanted to see and visit were free. We visited a lot of the historical sites as well as the US Mint and the "Rocky steps." On the way to Boston we stopped in at Lexington and Concord, which was a free experience. We got rained and hailed on, but it was fun. For Boston we purchased a two-day Go Card All-Inclusive pass which proved to be a great investment. Among the attractions we visited/enjoyed were the New England Aquarium, a hop on and off trolley ride, a tour of Fenway Park, the Skywalk Observatory, the Paul Revere house, and the JFK Library and Presidential Museum. If you click the link you can see the prices for those attractions individually and the cost of the pass, but we saved a good deal of money on each pass. I think if you are exploring a city you don't know much about, one of these passes is a great idea. 

In New York, we really had just planned to park on Staten Island and ride the ferry over and then hop back on and come back. We did do that, but I couldn't pass by the city and not at least see some of it. None of us had ever been to New York. So I plotted some points in my Google Maps app to guide us through the city. We drove to and beside and through Central Park (by way of East Harlem), Broadway, Times Square, the Empire State Building, One World Trade Center, and on to Staten Island. It wasn't the best way to experience the city, obviously, but we saw a lot of things we had never seen in a relatively tight time frame. I think it worked out great. On a side note, I can say I've driven in a full-size SUV in Philadelphia, Boston, and New York City. It really wasn't bad, although many advised me against it. Just don't hit pedestrians and you'll be fine.

Food

When you have a large group on a vacation, it's nice to try to make some meals instead of eating out every time, but due to our schedule we didn't really have that luxury. One of the problems with eating out at restaurants is that it can be expensive. Another problem, and this is the big one, and don't act like it's not an issue for your family, is that it's often a challenge to decide where to eat to make sure everyone is happy. I had done a little research in advance but had not planned the specific places to eat. What I did determine to do, however, was to just be decisive in picking a place. I knew that would be the best even if it wasn't completely satisfying for everyone. In the end, the thing I thought might cause the most conflict ended up going very smoothly. So, my advice here is, just make a decision and run with it. Everyone will be okay in the end.

We did eat at some yummy local places (Sonny's Famous Steaks in Philly and La Famiglia Gorgio's in North Boston), but we didn't always eat at local places. I would suggest not stressing about where you eat. Yes, it's great to enjoy the local flavors. But if the first night after a really long drive there is an On the Border restaurant near the hotel, go for it.

Planning

Jen called me a nerd and said we would never follow it and that she didn't want to be tied down to a schedule, but, yes, I made an itinerary. It was just a draft, but I thought we needed something to at least guide us each day. It included addresses and websites for some things. In the end, we actually did use it every day and somewhat stuck to it. It was very helpful to have to refer to and eliminated most of the stress of planning the next day. The only things we had to figure out was parking a couple of times. It took a lot of time to put it all together, but it was worth it.

The trip wasn't perfect, but it was fun and created a lot of memories and photos we'll look back on fondly. Hopefully if you plan a family road trip anytime soon this will give you some tips to make it the hap-hap-happiest family road trip ever!

Two words were my downfall (okay...maybe it was more than that)

Let me set the stage. Monday early afternoon (Memorial Day so I was off work), Day 4 of Jen's birthday weekend extravaganza celebration (also known as Jenapalooza). I was doing the dishes, the boys were upstairs cleaning their rooms to get ready for a friend coming over the next day, and Jen was somewhere in the house doing something (I don't know what). Jen comes to me with car keys in hand and says, "I'm going to town." I said, "Going to town? What do you mean 'Going to town'?" "What I said, going to town." "What does that mean? Going to town to do what?" "I don't know I'm just going to go to town and go around and do stuff." "What town, around here?" "I don't know." "Well, do you want us to go with you or do you want to go alone?" "Whatever it doesn't matter." "Okay well I was just going to clean for now and I know the boys need to finish cleaning their rooms." "Okay well I'm going to go so I can get out of the house. I'm not going to spend all day sitting around here." "Well do you want us to come with you or not?" "It doesn't matter, but I am going." "Okay, go ahead and I will have to stay and monitor the boys." "Fine, I'm not going."

There was more to it after that, mostly after Jen sat on the couch me "encouraging" her to get out of the house. I don't think I got the quotes verbatim, but it's pretty close and gives you the idea. Do you see where I messed up? It was one word. Maybe two. "...have to..." I think things would have ended better if I had just omitted those two words. Maybe not, though. Jen says my tone stinks. My mom always said that too. So even when I don't say the wrong thing I usually say it the wrong way. I tell Jen to just think the *best* of me, that no matter my tone my intentions were good and I have her best interest in mind. Besides, I'm monotone! I can't help it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Was that an appropriate use of a thousand exclamation points, ladies?)

Let me explain my thought process here from the beginning. Jen does not like to be alone. She doesn't like to go places alone. One might think that since she is around the three boys all day most days that she would want to leave the house by herself occasionally. That's not the case. She does not like to be alone. Sometimes I try to get her just to go drive around or go to Walmart or whatever store on her own. She doesn't like to do that. She likes to be around people (except for when she doesn't).

So when she came to me saying she was leaving to "go to town," I couldn't believe that she actually wanted to leave by herself. I would have been perfectly fine with that, of course. But I kept prying and pushing because I assumed she didn't really want to go alone. So I was trying to figure out what she really wanted in this case, because she was not just coming out and telling me.

Normally I would have just told the boys to get ready because we were gonna head out. But in this case, I knew they needed to finish cleaning their rooms so the friend could come over. So I felt obligated to make sure they did that. So there was part of the struggle, trying to decide which thing was more important at that time, making sure the boys finished with their rooms or making sure my wife's wants or needs were fulfilled.

Another part of my thought process, to be honest, was trying to figure out why in the world she wanted to leave the house. We had been out with friends and had a great time on Friday for dinner and the escape experience. Saturday was lunch with the family at Bar-b-que Shack in Toccoa and then she went shopping for a while in Commerce. Sunday was church and then Moe’s for dinner and some shopping. Here we were on Monday, me thinking we had enjoyed a full weekend and ready to wind down for the week ahead.

The problem was this. Jen had taken the weekend off from work. In case you don't know, she works pretty much every day. If she doesn't have one or more shoots scheduled in a day, she is editing and doing other necessary things for the business. Most days she is doing both. She has sessions almost every Saturday and most Sundays. She works all the time, and she works very hard. But when she takes a weekend off of work, she doesn't want to sit around and relax. She is not an introvert. She wants to be out doing things, seeing people, enjoying life, experiencing things. It's the same thing on vacation. We can relax when we're dead. She wants to be out doing things. And I have really come to appreciate that about her.

So one thing that I finally have learned after this weekend's experience is that if she has scheduled a weekend to not work, by golly I better have that weekend jam packed full of stuff to do. And next time I will try my darndest.

Actually we talked a few minutes after our discussion and after I tried to encourage (really force) her to leave the house. I came to her and explained that I was pushing and pushing because I really was trying to understand what her wishes were at that moment. Did she really want to leave alone? Did she want to get away from the rest of us? Did she want us all to go? I explained how I couldn't believe she actually wanted to go by herself because of how she doesn't like to be alone. Then, I really messed up in the way I said the last sentence. I explained to her that what I really meant was that it was okay that she was going, but I was trying to convey that I could not go because I needed to monitor the boys and make sure they were doing what they needed to be doing.

From her perspective, I kept pushing and pushing, and the last sentence was the last straw. She further explained that she has to be home ALL THE TIME. She wanted that weekend to be a time where she didn't have to sit in the house. She truly just wanted to get out of the house. And now I understand that better.

In the end we decided to load up the car and drive down to Sams Club, which closed at 6 after we arrived at 5:55. Then we went to Goodwill where we found a really nice dresser for $60. We're not sure yet what we're going to do with it, but it was a good deal we thought. And we went to eat at Little Italy. So that was our third day out of four driving to Gainesville or further south. It turned out okay.

As I mentioned, I learned a couple of lessons (again). One or two words, or my tone, can make all the difference in what I mean to say and what Jen hears me say (with her pink ears). I also learned that when Jen has a weekend without work she wants to do stuff outside the house, no matter what the other circumstances. I think I also learned instead of asking a bunch of the same questions different ways it's probably better for me to get straight to the point and say what's going on in my mind so that she can help me understand. One thing I know is that she wants me to speak up more, even if it's going to make her mad. What so cool is I was able to make her mad in this case without even speaking up. Now that takes talent!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Learning to Put on My Big Girl Panties

Have you ever felt like everything you touched was ruined? Sort of like King Midas, but way, way worse? That has been my week in a nutshell. If I was involved with it, it felt like it fell apart. I really began to think God was mad at me.

As some of you have already heard, someone took my money pouch on Saturday with all my session fees for Easter Minis. I was devastated. I can't tell you how tired I was and how hard I worked to get all that together. In my mind, God was punishing me. I was spending too much time doing things like that and not enough time with my kids. I wasn't a good enough mom. I worried too much about money and some upcoming expenses we had coming up. I didn't trust Him enough to take care of us, so this was His way of saying I should be better at trusting Him.

All through the night Saturday, I woke up with panic attacks. My poor husband finally about shook me and said, "You have to let this go!" I think the poor guy just needed sleep. I punched a few walls, screamed on my knees at the ceiling, kicked one of my Easter totes, and bawled like a baby. I felt like my insides were turning inside out.

I have questioned God about a thousand times. I know some of you are thinking, "It was just money." It was just money, but to me, it was more than that. It was about working toward a goal I had set in my mind. It was about trying to keep to our debt free goal. It was about contributing to the family and helping keep us on track. It was about security.

For those of you who know me fairly well, I am a pretty self-confident person. When it comes to being me and who I am as a person, I am confident in that. I have been for quite some time. I don't care if you don't like how I dress or that I speak my mind. However, when it comes to stability in my life and consistency, I kind of fall apart. For instance, for years I stressed over Christmas. Putting things on a credit card and having enough to purchase what we needed drove me crazy. I love Christmas and it is important to me. Anthony and I came up with a plan that each year we would take some of our tax return and create a Christmas account. That way, I could purchase all through the year when the prices were good and I could always know how much was left in the budget. Christmas was safe.

I am also kind of a crazy scrooge when it comes to money as well. Letting go of money to purchase things--even if we need it--is hard for me. (You should be a fly on the wall in some of our family discussions.) Well, I take that back. If it's for the kids it's not as difficult. As many of you saw, we visited Disney for five days earlier in the month. I literally saved from 2011 until this year for us to go on that trip. At the time, I was also saving to build myself a storage closet for props, new equipment and more. The Disney saving usually took a backseat to things we needed more, hence why it took me so long. In my mind, I even wondered if God was punishing me for wasting money on that trip. Maybe He thought I could have put it to better use?

Once I came to grips with losing the money, I realized something else had happened the day it went missing. On Sunday, I had a regularly planned session with a wonderful family with whom I have shot several times. I know them and am completely at ease with them. We had planned to meet in a parking lot of a restaurant. While I was waiting on them, I felt anxious. I felt like I needed to be aware of my surroundings. And by all means, I needed to keep my windows up and my doors locked. As most of you know Sunday was beautiful and I was pretty sweaty in the car with the windows up. The same feeling started to surface on Tuesday when I went to shoot a set of school portraits for a local preschool. There were workers milling around working on the buildings and I found myself constantly looking over at my car where I had strategically hid my purse under the 5,000 jackets that I found in the floorboard.

I felt scared. I felt panicky. Even though in both situations I knew I was going to be in the presence of people I felt comfortable with, I felt uneasy.

About seven months ago, I had my car broken into. I felt violated and angry. I felt the same uneasiness and anxiety that I feel now. It took me months to get comfortable. I don't want it to be like that again. I hate being scared and uneasy. My anxiety already causes a good bit of that anyhow, but having to deal with events that push it to the limits, it makes me very tired.

The hits kept on coming this weekend. After getting hardly any sleep and feeling like I had been hit by a truck, on Sunday I wake up to the sound of someone vomiting in the floor. Poor Jase stood there outside my bedroom door with his little puke puddle. I have to admit, I looked at the ceiling and said out loud, "Do you hate me? Am I really that bad of a person?" Luckily, we came to realize that it was most likely drainage from his allergies which the poor kid has been fighting for weeks now it seems. However, I still felt like I couldn't catch a break.

Monday, my dog walks into my office and pees on the rug. Tuesday, I didn't bring something I needed to a session. Today, I realized I emailed someone the wrong thing and my computer starts acting like it's on the blink. I have to admit, through all this, I kept asking God what it was that I had done that had offended Him so much that I needed to suffer through all this.

As I sit here tonight writing all of this, I am reading one of my Dad's texts to me from Monday.

".....I can say without reservation GOD does love YOU and has blessed you bountifully. God did not cause this but allowed it. What you have to focus on is what is he teaching me as an individual, as a parent, as a friend. There will be more to come. Navigate through this. Learn what you can, that way you can be a better help to someone else because of it."

Ouch. So yes, apparently I need to put my big girl panties on and learn from what I am going through. In the end, if it helps me help someone else one day, shouldn't I be okay with that? I have always thought my parents were wise, but this one really hit home for me. I have been so focused on God punishing me that I hadn't focused on what blessings I had! Suddenly, that plaque that my grandma has hanging in her bathroom about the footsteps in the sand really made sense. This weekend, God was carrying me because I wasn't walking along in my own strength. My strength was gone.

You might be thinking like I was at first--What do I really have to be thankful for right now? To be honest, I wasn't grateful for one stinking thing when I lost it over realizing the bag was gone. But after getting that text, I have tried to put things in perspective and be grateful. In both situations where I have lost something, I have never been personally attacked. I haven't be forced at gunpoint to give up something. No one has physically harmed me. In both situations, not one piece of my camera equipment was touched. (Apparently, God thinks I should keep doing this as a job.) I still have a way to continue providing for my family with that in my possession. None of my clients were harmed and the sweet goats were just fine. My master schedule which has every date I have booked logged, was recovered from the grass. (It was attached to my money bag.) I could have had to dig through hundreds of emails and messages to recover all of that information--talk about time consuming. As I have sat down to count my blessings, the list gets a little longer.

So am I still angry and questioning God? Still asking questions, yes, but angry, no. To be honest, if I am being punished by anybody, it's probably Satan and his buddies. Anthony and I have been really trying to use this blog and our videos on Friday nights to encourage others and lift the spirits of our friends and family. I have found that when you are doing something positive, that's generally when things gets tough. Satan doesn't want us to continue to be an encouragement. And if that's true, what's the best way to shut us up? Hand out some really crappy times and situations. Maybe that's why God allowed all of this to happen. Maybe that's the lesson I needed to learn. It could be that my dad is right and that there are people out there who need to hear that I have been struggling with these events and that I am fighting to get over it. And I will get over it with the help of a loving heavenly Father.

Before I close, I do want to say thank you to every person who has called to say something kind, stopped by to give me a hug, emailed a word of encouragement, or who has offered to help in any way. I know I say this a lot, but I have some of the best clients in the whole entire world. You guys are more than clients--you are my friends. You have shown me that you care about my mental health and my family. Each of your families are blessings I counted when I sat down to reevaluate my situation. If I ever get the opportunity to do the same for you, you better believe I will.                      

Show me the money!

I have a problem. That's the first step to beating the problem, right? You have to admit it, or acknowledge it. At least I've made it that far. My problem is this...I let my job play a large part in my self-perception. To put it another way, my work to a significant degree is where I find my worth. I don't like it. I don't want it to be that way, but it is that way. And I don't think I'm alone.

I think to be more specific, I should say that it's not so much my job or my work generally. It is what I get paid for doing the aforementioned work. For whatever reason, I feel like my worth is directly related to how many numbers are on my paycheck. I'm guessing it's that way for a lot of men out there. It may be that way for women too, but I don't think is quite as prevalent in that way.

Many men feel like making money and providing for our families is what we are responsible for. It's why we're here. I can't help but think about comparisons. It's not right, and it leads to jealousy and, really, covetousness. Those are not positive things. But, here's the honest truth coming, I sometimes feel like less of a man since I don't make as much as the next guy. 

The truth is, I don't even know how much money you make! I make assumptions, and I think they're pretty accurate. Whether they are or not, it doesn't really matter. Surely I'm not the only one thinking this way. The truth is, it's tough for me sometimes to talk to other guys about things related to finances, because I can't help but feel an inadequacy when I know they make more money than me.

Don't get me wrong...I feel appreciated at my job. It hasn't always been that way, but it is now. And it's important to feel appreciated and valued in your work. This is especially true when your Love Language is Words of Affirmation. I have a very stable job that I actually really enjoy, and it's not like I make pennies. The benefits are pretty good, and I've been there for almost 14 years. That's a long time! I've never had a full-time job with another company or organization. But I always want to make more money. Don't we all? Sometimes I get down when I think about it, and my wife isn't a big fan of that.

What I should really find my worth in is Christ. I know that. He paid the debt for my sins, and nothing good in my life is here without Him. Every breath I breathe, every smile I see, every dollar I make, every bite of food I eat, every hug from my wife or kids is a blessing from God. I know that. I know I am blessed beyond measure, and I am so thankful. But I still feel like I fall short of expectations.

I should find worth in the family that I have that loves me so much. I can't imagine being more fortunate than I am in so many ways. My wife is amazing, incredible, and truly just what I need. My kids make me smile and give me purpose. I work as hard as I do for them. I want them to be blessed, and feel loved, and feel special. But no matter how much time I spend with them and invest in their lives, I often attribute more value to the paycheck that I bring home (Well, the voided paycheck. Does anyone not use direct deposit these days?)

I don't think there's just one reason why this is the case. There's no way to pinpoint a root cause. Nevertheless, I'm going to try to identify some of the reasons I think this is the case for me. Maybe it's the same or different for you. 

One reason is that it's how our economy works. In our culture, the more valuable you are to your employer the more you're supposed to get paid. I messed up in one regard by working for a nonprofit organization. It's not like banking or finance or commission sales. There aren't bonuses for good performance or saving the company money or bringing in extra revenue. And our culture says the more valuable you are in the marketplace the more money you will make. 

Another reason is that our family is trying to live the debt-free lifestyle. Borrower is slave to the lender. You've read that from me before. I don't want to be a slave. But is it possible that all that is for those who have at least at $100k household income? I just made up a number. Doesn't matter what it is as long as it's bigger than ours. How can we buy the car we want or need with cash that doesn't already have 100k miles on it if we don't have the income to do it? See. My fault. I should be making more money. So I listen to the Dave Ramsey show all the time and hear over and over again not to borrow money on a stupid car that goes down in value. So I feel like a failure because I can't make that happen. 

Some people reading this might think I should just go get another job where I make more money. If I'm so valuable as an employee, surely I could go make more in the marketplace. If I was reading this, I might say the same thing. But there are reasons I don't. There are some great things about my job. I live less than 10 minutes from work. My wife loves that I get to come home for lunch pretty much every day, and so do I. I rarely have to work many extra hours (except when we are up for re-accreditation and I get an email from my boss at 4:45 PM that the review committee wants a bunch of data that needs to be compiled and analyzed and then presented the next morning at 8:30...David McMillion and I along with others made it happen). What's more is that there's a reason I am where I am, I believe. So maybe this is a form of a sacrifice I make in order to invest more time with my family and finish the work that I started 14 years ago.

I think another reason is that I want my wife to be proud. It probably doesn't change her perception of me. But apparently part of me thinks it would help.

That's all I can come up with as far as justifications for my thoughts, and those were of varying levels of legitimacy. I don't really know why I feel this way. It's something that I dwell on at times, and it's not good. This is not the best version of me. God is good, no matter what my salary is. My God is Jehovah Jireh, and He will sustain me and my family. I know that, in my mind and in my heart. But something keeps me focused on the wrong thing. 

I approach my work with a Colossians 3:23 mentality, and that's where it's at. That's where the reward is. May God grant me, and whoever else may be reading this and feeling and thinking the same things, the focus and diligence to set our minds on things above and not of this world. Those things are worth dwelling on. And may I every day place great importance on how those closest to me view my efforts. They will tell me the truth, and their love is of immeasurable value.

Closing the Chapter on Baby Making

I have never been good with change. I enjoy consistency and stability. Anthony will be the first to tell you that this is a pretty big issue with me. If you really want to see an example of this in action, take me out to eat. Rarely will I order something different than what I normally order. I almost feel like it's a waste of my money to try something new because there is always the possibility that I won't like it. What good is that?

Food is not the only part of my life in which I stay pretty consistent. Big life changes are difficult for me too. I hate closing the door on things--especially if it's by my own choice. Leaving teaching and coaching was one of the most difficult decisions I ever made. Letting go of that was heart wrenching. I know now that I made the right decision for our family, but it still stings at times. 

With every change, I feel that door closing and it's like all the oxygen in the room is being sucked out at the same time. What if I made the wrong decision? What if something bad happens because of this change? Could I ever change back? So many questions, not enough sleep. 

You can imagine what it was like for me when we decided we were done having children. I don't know about you, but after every delivery, I felt done. At some point, I will have to share each of the boys' birth stories. There are some hilarious and scary moments all wrapped up into each one. Even though I knew in my heart I wasn't really done, that's what labor does to you. You don't generally walk out with the feeling of, "Oh, yes! Let's do this all over again!" Around the age of two, I would start to feel the longing for the next little one in my heart and in my arms.

If you have read any of our previous blogs, you know that we had a failed pregnancy between Reilly and Jase. It was a tough experience for me and my heart is still healing. I also talked a little bit about how tough my pregnancy with Jase was on my body. After both of those experiences, I knew in my heart, that I was satisfied. I didn't need a baby girl to make our family complete. Jase was our completion. He was our perfect ending to our childbearing days.

As he grew, I felt the peace in my heart growing concerning coming to the end of this stage of my life. He has truly been the baby of the family from the moment he came into our lives. I don't think you could find a more perfect kid for the job. It was at this point that Anthony and I started to discuss what we were going to do. I wanted to make sure that he felt this chapter of our lives was coming to an end. There was no way I would have pushed my feelings on him. I wanted to be respectful and understanding of his feelings on the matter since of course, he was my partner in crime in all of this baby making. He was pretty vocal about how much he loved our babies, but also about how ready he was to start enjoying the next phase of our lives. Then the next part of the discussion started--the technical part. How would we end this journey and keep everyone's best health interests in mind? How did we each feel about what our role would be?

Luckily, I had a fantastic midwife who had already started a conversation with Anthony about what she saw as our best option and he understood that it would come down to him taking the step to finishing this part of the story. I can't thank him enough for seeing what was best for me in terms of my health. He could have thrown a fit and told me he wasn't going to do it. He could have asked me to take one for the team and go through another process that would have probably caused some havoc in my already battered body. He didn't. He did what he usually does--takes whatever burden he can from me.

I can honestly say that in the days and weeks leading up to his procedure, I was in turmoil. Every single terrible thought that can enter your head will do it. I already come up with every horrible situation that can possibly happen whenever I leave the house, drop my kids off with anyone, or walk around with scissors. This situation brought out the most horrible thoughts a mother could possibly have. What if we do this and something happens to Anthony in the process? What if he regrets it and holds it against me? What if all our kids die in a horrible car accident? What if I die and Anthony remarries and wants to have kids with someone else? (I am going to say, this was a hard one to come to grips with. The thought of him married to someone else made me madder than fire, but we have to be realistic right? I love him enough that I don't want to hurt him by taking away that option later for him if he wanted it.) What if...what if...what if??? They just kept coming.

I remember at one point, I felt almost suffocated by all the horrible thoughts swimming in my head. I never told Anthony this, but one time, during one of the very rare times I was alone in the house, I bawled my eyes out with stress and worry over the decision. What was I doing? Was I really making a choice to end this chapter of our lives completely? Couldn't we just keep on going the way we were?

The truth is I couldn't. After losing a pregnancy and struggling through the last one, I am not sure my battered mind and heart could have taken a surprise pregnancy. I worried through the last one all the way till he was in my arms after the delivery (and then it continued through those first 6 weeks of his life). If you haven't figured it out yet, I struggle with a tiny issue called anxiety. (If you can't tell I'm being sarcastic there, then you need to meet me. I am pretty sarcastic.) At times, it takes everything I have to control it. It's exhausting and energy draining. I really believe that the struggle with it is what causes me to have such a hard time with change. Consistency helps with the anxiety. But the anxiety issue is for another blog.

I'll never forget driving down to take Anthony to have the procedure done. I think I probably asked him 30 times if this was right or if he felt okay about doing it. He of course giggled through the whole car ride like a little girl because they had given him a "happy pill" to take the edge off. To be honest, I was a little jealous he got one and I didn't. When I walked him into the office, I felt like the walls were closing in and I was going to suffocate. My heart was telling me I was doing the right thing, but my mind would not shut up with the horrible thoughts. Was I really going to not have any more babies? Was this really what I wanted? I told Anthony I had to go to the restroom while we were in the waiting room and walked out as calmly as I could. Once I got out of the door of the office, I bolted to the bathroom. I can't even remember if I peed or not. I just had to get myself together.

When I walked back in, Anthony was gone. I slumped down in the chair and waited for him to finish. I remember finally praying at that point. I know Anthony and I had prayed about it before we made the final decision, but I don't remember praying about it after. I pretty much let the anxiety have its way with my mind. But in that waiting room, I got my act together. I was able to walk out of that waiting room feeling like we made the right decision and that I could breathe again.

I have had so many people ask me after it was over, "How did you know when you were done?" To be honest, there were a lot of signs for our family, but it's unique to each family. My sister-in-law, Kayla, says she knew she was done when she could hold a baby and not want one. I definitely agree with this. When you are a woman, holding a baby is a trigger. If you can hold a baby and not have this tremendous longing for your own, that's definitely a sign. I have shot with more newborns this year than I have in my whole photography career. In those moments, I hold those babies and pour out my love and kindness while I take their photos. However, there is nothing like putting that baby back in its mother's arms, walking out the door, and falling into bed that night without waking up to tears in the middle of the night. (Well.....most nights anyway.)

We all come to a point in life where we have to make a decision about moving on to a newer, sometimes scarier chapter. For some folks it might be changing jobs. Others might struggle with an empty nest. Some families deal with loss or a sickness that will change their entire dynamic. I think all change is scary at first--even if it's good. It's the possibilities of failure, something going wrong, or not being able to take it back that keep us from moving on. But we have to keep moving forward.

Today I am satisfied with our decision, and the horrible thoughts don't rear their ugly heads as much as they did before. I think our family is just right. It took talking it through with my better half and some prayer to get me to that point, but I finally made it. I just hope the chapters to come are just as joy filled as these have been. 

"Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet."

There are a couple of things in life that can really try your patience. One of them is Windstream, and the other is having your hard drive crash. We were dealing with both of these phenomena this week. Well, Jen was suffering more from the Windstream issue, and it was my computer at work that had hard disk failure. Life gives us plenty of times to react in frustration, and those same experiences afford a chance to develop our patience.

Our Windstream internet has at times been really good. At times it's been really frustrating. Last week sometime it began to struggle quite mightily. It would literally take five minutes to load a basic web page. That tested our patience a bit. We called customer service and were told there was definitely an issue (Thank you for that, Windstream customer service person. I was previously unaware that there was an issue.) and that a service technician would need to visit. That was on Thursday, and a technician was scheduled for a Saturday visit.

The reminder call came on Friday to let me know that a technician would be starting work on Saturday between the hours of 8 AM and 7 PM. The technician was supposed to call before he came to the house. Without calling, he showed up around 3 PM I think. After a little work outside and a little work inside, he was stumped. He called for reinforcements. After another hour or so of work, we were told it was better and that they had one more thing to do and then all would be well. The internet worked pretty well after that, for about 16 hours or so. 

So I called back in on Monday and was told the ticket was still open and the issue would be resolved by 6 PM. That technician told Jen we had a problem with the wiring in the house and would need new wiring. He would have to complete it the next day. So today a different technician called and said he needed to drill a hole in the floor to run a new wire to eliminate the wiring issue as a problem. I said okay! He did that, and once he was finished around lunch time said it was working but that there was still a problem.

He referred it back to the experts who deal with the issues in the lines down the road. Two more technicians visited our home in the afternoon to say they had narrowed it down to an issue with one of the pins at the hub, they thought. So a total of six technicians later, they were still a little stumped. At this hour our internet is working, but I don't know if the full problem has been resolved.

Let me just say this about Windstream. The local people that work for the company are terrific people. In fact, we go to church with two of the technicians that helped us. And we know a couple of other folks who work there, and they are awesome individuals. One in particular is a friend who helps me out a lot and tracks what is going on. So the people are great. The product has been less than great over the years.

On Friday morning I arrived at work to this:

So that was fun! I've tried to keep everything saved on the network drive at work, so I didn't figure it would be a big deal. Of course anything I had saved on the hard drive was gone. I'm thinking many folks would have had a nervous breakdown here. It was okay in my case. But the IT guy (our IT guys are great, by the way) commented how much easier it was for him when I didn't explode in anger. That made me feel good.

People have told me I'm really patient. Sometimes I'm not, but it's usually when I'm not in public. I get frustrated with the kids, and, yes, even with my wife. Jen can tell you. I'm really not as patient as people think. I have outbursts occasionally, and I snap at the kids sometimes for no real reason. I have held screaming babies in the air and yelled in frustration. But the everyday situations, like the ones above, and like when you're in a restaurant and they clearly aren't serving well, are opportunities to show our kids how to be patient. They watch how we treat people. 

Oh, and you fathers out there, they watch how you treat your wife. This is something I have to really think about or I mess up royally. Here's the thing...there are going to be arguments in marriage. It happens, and it will happen occasionally probably forever. We talked the other day on our Facebook Live session how Jen doesn't want me to roll over in arguments because it makes her think I don't care. But, if I do engage in the spirited discussion, that can come across to my boys potentially in a way that appears that I'm not being loving. And if I'm not careful I might be modeling something that seems to make it okay to be disrespectful to your wife. So it's a balance. Not an easy balance like Karate Kid on that pole at the beach. A difficult balance like me trying to do a front flip on a balance beam. That kind.

Keeping a patient mindset helps me to keep my voice low and hopefully my tone appropriate. Jen believes my tone is always perfect, and I appreciate that she recognizes it (No, no she doesn't.). What we need to remember is that in all these situations, if we have kids, they are watching. They are learning. There's a saying that goes, "More is caught than taught." I think that is true in this case. The kids learn more from what we do in front of them than what we tell them to do.

I just asked T.J. and Reilly if they think Jen and I are patient. T.J.'s answer was "Sometimes." Reilly's answer was, "For three days, yes. For two days, no." I don't know what the latter means, but I'm thinking we have room for improvement.

That's not a lie. That's love.

I always have to explain to the kids that a lie is a lie no matter how big or small. Even a lie to make someone feel better or to keep from hurting someone is still, at its root, a lie. My mommy senses start to tingle whenever Anthony starts a "good lie." Come on ladies, you know what I'm talking about. "No, those pants don't make your butt look fat." Or my personal favorite, "You are the most beautiful woman in the world." It makes me flinch. I know that he's trying to be sweet or kind, but at the root of the compliment, there is a lie. Of course those pants make my butt look fat. That's why I wear a shirt to cover it. There's no way I am the most beautiful woman in the world when there are ladies walking around that actually call themselves angels (Victoria Secret models for those that don't understand). However, for example, if you add the words "to me" at the end of or at the beginning of either one of those statements, that doesn't make it a lie. So you are saying that to you have never seen a woman more beautiful? Yeah, that's right. Key word is that you said "seen." Is beauty only skin deep to you?

To me, lying is lying. If I want my kids to not lie, then I have to model that in front of them right? Just this evening, we were discussing this blog topic when I explained to Anthony that I didn't really lie much. TJ was quick to remind me that I do--I lie to Jase when his tablet is still charged and I tell him it's dead. I lie to Jase when I tell him I can't find his "Jase's Daddy's phone." Even lying to save one's sanity is, in fact, lying. If Jase's tablet is still alive, I just need to tell him that it's not time for his tablet. I agree with that. Sometimes it feels like it's not worth it to be a good parent though, especially when you don't feel like you have the energy. The truth is, he's going to scream and be mad either way. 

I guess my point is, our relationships are not supposed to be built on lies; they are supposed to be built on truths. "You are very pretty," would be an okay statement as I am at least very pretty to Anthony or he wouldn't have married me. Well, at least I wasn't butt ugly. There's a truth. But you will just say, "Yeah right." To me, it takes effort to say a truth. You have to be willing to think about what you say and mean it. The truth can also be painful and not something we want to hear. I still believe that the truth will set you free. This is like an actual conversation for us. I don't know what to add because what you are saying is so wise. See.....lying is just unbecoming. 

I agree with Brad Paisley, or whoever wrote the song that he sings. "That's not a lie; that's love." Do you really want to take your marriage advice from a Brad Paisley song?  He also wrote "I'm Gonna Miss Her." But he also sang, and this is the way I feel about you, "She's Everything to Me," and "The World." And that's the truth. Your love for Brad Paisley is apparently the truth. (Giggles like a little girl who just saw her crush walk by in the hallway.) 

Back to the point--a lie is a lie. The truth is too hard. The truth makes us feel vulnerable and not good enough. What about that time on a Sunday morning when you tried on a new LuLaRoe dress for the first time and I said, "That makes you look wider than you are?" Well I knew the truth. I wasn't going to wear it without a belt or cinched in some way. So that was just stupid. Then why did you go upstairs and change and make me feel like I ruined your whole life? Honest truth? Because I never got to explain what I was going to do and how I was going to wear it. You just threw your two cents out there. Wait, didn't you ask me how it looked? No. You, as usual, are not remembering this conversation accurately. Either way, I want to know if I look stupid before I go out the door. The last thing I need is to look like a psycho mom of boys when I enter any place where there are other adults. Oh well, I guess that happens anyhow. #lie.

So the truth is too hard--as you can tell from the above. My point is, instead of lying to your spouse, how about tell them the truth. Also, don't wait to tell them they look fat AFTER they have already purchased the LuLaRoe dress that they like. How is that even possible if you haven't tried it on before you bought it? The world is already full of liars and flattering tongues so it would be nice for a little (or a lot) of honesty from the one person with whom you are trusting your heart. What if I suggested a restaurant that you didn't want to go to, but you knew I really did and you said that you wanted that as well? Let's get real here for a second. Has there ever been a time in our marriage when you didn't know where I didn't want to eat? You basically can tell when I don't want to do something. That's what you tell me all the time anyway. When did this become we were talking to each other because you have a lot of personal pronouns in there? Hey, you asked a question. If you can't deal with the truth, don't ask. I still think mine was a great example of when it's okay to lie. Take it or leave it. I'll leave it because you still shouldn't have to lie. Alright, is it about time to wrap it up? See, some people like to run from the truth when things get too real. I really don't like that I am letting you type this one. I appreciate your honesty. 

Let's make a challenge for all our readers this week.  Of course we will do it with you! All I am asking is for you to be more truthful with those in your household. Don't think of easy ways out. Speak truth into their lives--even if it's hard. Truth takes courage and thinking before you speak. I am game. I don't think you can handle the truth though. I am pretty sure I can put my big girl panties on for this one. I am just glad you say you like the food I cook. Ohhhh.....maybe truthfully I love that you cook the food. 

Nah...I'm good.

“You sure do have your hands full!” I usually hear it once a day at least. “Boy, I bet you’re ready for a girl.” Um……..okay. “Going for number four to get a girl right?” It’s usually at this point that my eyes start to roll, I smile and walk away. 

 

Every place I go, whether I have two of the boys or all three, someone makes a comment. I would wager that 95% of the time it is something about having my hands full or about my prospects for a future daughter. Only about 5% of the time is it someone stopping to tell me how great being a boy mom is or how well behaved my boys are at the moment. 

Let’s get one thing straight right from the start. I have no secret yearning for a daughter. My mom can tell you, I wasn’t the typical girl growing up. I was a tomboy from probably day one. In our house we had a mix of My Little Ponies that were ridden by G.I. Joes (For anyone who has tried this, you can back me up on how hard of a task it is to get those legs on those horses. They were not meant for riding!). My sister and I had a love of Silverhawks and Voltron. Instead of a Barbie house, we had a Thundercat Castle. It’s just the way we were. Oh, my poor mom tried to help us embrace our more feminine side by throwing on the big frilly dresses and forcing us to wear jewelry here and there, but we always came out on the other side just as tomboyish as ever. 

Fast forward about twenty years later to my first child. I wanted a boy. I wanted one so bad it hurt. When I found out TJ was on his way, I couldn’t have been happier. A few years later, I was pumped to find out Reilly was coming. As we approached the arrival of Jase, I got incredibly nervous. What if this was a girl? What would I do with her? I don’t brush my own hair all of the time so what was I going to do with a daughter? All those adorable boy clothes and shoes were going to be wasted. My pregnancy was very different from the other two and Anthony just knew we were having a girl. We found out due to some complications that Jase was a boy fairly early. I was relieved. I was still queen of this castle baby!

I know some moms dream about having a daughter—and that’s awesome! I have an awesome niece that I dote on any chance I get. She’s as close as I ever want to be to having a girl. Now, had the Lord blessed us with a girl, I know I would have learned to deal with my fears. However, I think the Lord knew exactly what he was doing when he sent TJ, Reilly, and Jase to us. I am just a boy mom and I am okay with that. It’s my comfort zone. It’s my happy place. 

So it makes it really irritating when I go out in public and people make these little backhanded comments. Sure, no one means them in a hateful or mean way (I hope), but they are a little insulting in my opinion. I have always felt like it’s the Devil’s way of getting me to question my contentment with what God has given me. “Are you sure you have never wanted a girl? I mean, look at your boys! That one is climbing onto the shelves of dog food like a monkey! And that one, he is telling that man that he looks super old! And the littlest one is taking his pants off in the buggy when he knows he has pooped and smells like the back end of a warthog. Don’t you wish God had just slipped one little girl in there to bring some calmness to the chaos?” Nah…..I am good. 

I always find it funny when I am in a store and I pass by people talking to moms with just girls. You hear comments like, “Oh, she is just so pretty!” Or my favorite, “Look how she’s just sitting there so nicely being all shy.” (This is my favorite mainly because my kids are hanging off the sides of the buggy like crazy lunatics—not so nicely I guess.) Never once have I passed one of these situations where the person was saying, “Wow! Don’t you wish you had a little boy to spice up your world?” I have to admit, I have thought about it a time or two, just to see what kind of response I would get. I have not done it though because of how much I hate that comment. 

Even my grandmother (whom I love dearly and have a great relationship with) commented, “You don’t at all wish you had a little girl? Don’t you have that desire to have one?” I know she didn’t mean to sound like I was a crazy person for wanting this life, but her tone was so…….shocked. I politely told her no and went into detail about why I am a much better mother to boys than I would ever be to a girl. As much as I love my niece Jo Jo, I know that Jessica is a great girl mom. She’s better built for that life. 

I love going into a grocery store (or any store really) and passing another boy mom. You kind of nod your head at each other knowing without a word—respect to you my friend. I saw a shirt once that said, “Boymom—It’s not a description, it’s an experience.” That’s the honest to goodness truth. It’s something that you can only understand by living it. I am sure that being a girl mom is the same way.

Here’s my suggestion to you. The next time you see a person with all the same sex kids, please don’t ask the question about wanting a different life. Assume that they love everything about their awesome little existence and instead say something encouraging. Try, “You are doing a fantastic job and I know you couldn’t wish for better blessings.” You can even say, “Way to go! You must work really hard to raise such great kids (even if those kids aren’t being so great at the moment and are punching each other into next year).” Instead of asking someone to question their contentment, encourage them to focus on the blessing. You might just get a big smile and high five. Or in our case, several high fives that might be a little sticky.