Hello there. I unintentionally took a two week hiatus from blogging. We had family visiting us during the first week and it seems I am not the type of blogger that can get my posts prepared far enough in advance to make it happen nor the type to steal away a few minutes to get my non-essential things done with company around. Week number two, well, who really knows what happened to week #2? Normal life continued to roll on in all other areas except the blogging. Maybe my next goal should be to get ahead of my posts and set them to post at the right time…. I'll need a lesson for that.  So, in honor of Mother's Day approaching, I'd like to share a little poem I wrote many years ago to celebrate those that call me "mom". In all honesty, becoming a mom was the greatest fear I ever had- yet one of the things I desired so deeply. I had plenty of reasons to be fearful of the task, just as most women feel prior to (and during) mothering + a whole bag of extra reaso...

My Move-Over Mondays will soon be ending, but this week I wanted to share an old post about when the girls were very little. I was reminded of this bff tendency earlier today when one didn't want to go outside without the other. Gil and I often talk about how they will need very strong, confident men to marry because their love and devotion to each other is stronger than anything I've ever seen. Good luck, boys. So, here is this week's Move-Over Monday, called Timeout Tag-a-long! ----- 4/22/2009 Timeout Tag-a-long  /[ tahym-out tag-uh-long ]/noun. Meaning- /a. to assist in the service and duration of discipline given to an older sibling for the purpose of not parting or preventing the potential boredom that might occur while older sibling is serving timeout sentence./ b. must place gluteus maximus as closely beside older sibling’s as possible. /Origin- mom moment in my kitchen. Our youngest has created a new self-designated post during her sister’s timeouts- rig...

In honor of finally doing the hard task of sleep training my third baby these past seven days, this week's Move-Over Monday is a little reminder of when my oldest was a little, crib-sleeping baby. I have learned so much since these days mentioned below, but still find such strength knowing that God knows and cares for me. Please enjoy (and share ;)).  Twenty-one Sleepy Shuffles My determined march is only 23 feet, 5 inches long. My sacrificial stroll is the same difference from my computer to the fridge. So why is this walk so hard to happily hike? Not to be over dramatic, but these 21 shuffles often require more from me than my 45 minute cardio workout. Perhaps it’s because this nightly jaunt is not completed per my own request, but rather by the needy cries of another. As any young mom knows, midnight feedings, 3am feedings, or 5am feedings are probably the hardest part of serving a small being weighing in only slightly more than a bag a potatoes. It’s a constant reminder...

Thanks for stopping by the blog. Today's Move Over Monday is a story from my old house. I miss that house on Hill Street, for sure. Dust Bunnies 1/29/10 If you sweep my floor more than once with any attention to detail, you will notice that my larger than life dust bunnies accumulate in the same spaces continually. I know the secret spots they use to hide from my broom waiting to introduce themselves to any visitors that stop in for a minute. A quick sweep will get the most noticeable fur and the random clumps of play dough under the table. But a much deeper cleaning reveals these dust bunnies…no, more like dust monsters. Four years of sweeping the same house has offered me the chance to notice how they seem to tuck away under end tables and behind doorways repeatedly. Once, a few weeks ago, I shared my observations about these dust monsters with my husband. He looked up from his iphone and said, “Thanks for telling me. Now I know where to look when I sweep next”. Back to...

(January, 2012) I asked her to go upstairs and pick up the Angelina Ballerina toy set she was playing with earlier. I would be right behind her to start the bath water. She’s about to turn 4 and I knew she could do the task. A few minutes later, she was back in the kitchen and I asked her if the toys were picked up.  “It’s too many for me.”  A little file folder in the back of my mental “mothering” drawer began jumping around and reminded me of time when my first was a toddler. She had scattered all of the offering envelopes and welcome cards found in the pew rack in church. From the other end of the row, I told her to pick them up before giving anyone hugs. Gigantic tears flowed. Someone near and dear simply asked her older daughter to help mine and said, “sometimes the task just looks too big to start.”  This flashback caused me to rephrase what I was asking, so I instructed my brown-eyed beauty to head back upstairs and just pick up Angelina’...

Today launches a new edition to Oaks Replanted. Each Monday, I'll move a post over from my old blog. I selected this particular post in honor of my friend Mia. This story happened to me on my way home from a visit with her. Ready? Wait, before I share it…could you take a second and become a follower of this blog. It's easy, just sign up in the little box --------> to the right. Thanks! Here it is: 26 Followers  I was on the platform first. No signs. No train employees. Just a few benches and a smelly trashcan.  I made my track choice based on the track I arrived on a week prior. Before, I went south and stepped off the train on the far side. So this time, in my limited knowledge of train timetables and track schedules, I assumed I needed to be on this side to return north. I had a 50/50 chance. Now it was time to wait.  My backup plan: Worse case scenario, I grab my bags and make a mad dash down the ramp, under the tracks, back up the ramp on...