Christmas Blessings!

The wake up call came at 5:45a.m.  and it was all hands on deck.  By the time the parents rolled out of bed rules #1 and 2 had been followed:  1.  Make coffee 2.  Pre heat the oven for the rolls.

While the parental units were bleary eyed and groggy, the 5 younger Beckers were wide eyed and ready.

With coffee in hand we settled down to see what Santa had left.  Beginning with stockings each kiddo embraced the moment and unloaded the goods.  School supplies, tooth brushes, head scarves, hair ties and for Mr. Man a bag of Skittles, which he hugged.

Look at those faces!

On to the main event!

Starting with Mr. Man and going upward in order each child moved through opening presents.  I have to say that I am always sort of proud of my children and Thomas and I on Christmas morning.  The present 'piles' are modest.  Just 4 or 5 gifts per child, even when we just had two.  Often the gifts are things they needed or I would have purchased anyway.  And yet, the enthusiasm and fun aren't dampened at all.

Fancy toiletries, leg warmers and hats, costumes and books:  the stuff of Christmas morning all brought smiles and excitement.  Each sibling was pleased for the others as they showed off their presents.  And it took nearly an hour to get through just a few presents each.

Iron Man made an appearance at our gathering!

After getting through the little piles organized by name and marked with a special ornament so each child would know which stack belonged to him/her, one last gift was handed out.  The special gifts wrapped in red and tied with white satin bows.  American girl dolls, a leap pad 2 and a hobo bag filled with Euros brought special reactions from each recipient.  Santa combined with Fairy Godparents is a powerful combination.  The parental units are so happy that both are in our lives.

The Christmas present line up!

Everyone consumed too many cinnamon rolls and then dressed for church.  The 8:30 service at Sacred Heart had a wonderful gospel choir and wasn't too crowded, or too long.  We returned home for a more substantial breakfast.  Some of us snuggled down for some rest; some of us played with our new toys.

Dad working on the Leap Pad

Late afternoon found us at Uncle Guy's house and that was fun too.  Cousins played, family chatted and watched basketball.  More food was consumed.

The evening wound down with family movie night watching Tin Tin.  Early to bed and the major holiday was done.

An Ariel costume and her own iPod...pretty good Christmas!

So many blessings for our family; It is hard not to be a bit overwhelmed by how lucky I really am.  This holiday seemed to shine a light on that.  It is now my job to keep this feeling close at hand as I enter 2013 with all that comes with it.

Merry Christmas Eve 2012

Christmas began in earnest on Christmas Eve.  I remember last year that I kept telling the twins that if they wanted Santa to come they needed to behave.  It was all for naught.  They were out of their heads and poorly behaved the entire day.  This year was the opposite.  I never reminded them and yet I reaped the benefits all day long.  Snuggly, playful children.  Big girls making desserts and wrapping gifts.  The littles playing with each other, making projects and enjoying a day at home with family.  We went no where and the day passed quietly.  We chose to stay home and prepare for Christmas Eve dinner rather than attend a Christmas Vigil Mass so there was no hustle and bustle getting ready for church.  I loved it!

At 230 a big ole prime rib roast went in to the oven.

At 6:30 nana, papa and Uncle Stephen arrived and the festivities began.  That is approximately the time we realized the roast was no where near done.  Carl and Thomas took over and we altered the evening.

Uncle Stephen and Mr Man went straight to playing transformers!

Much to the littles surprise it was gift time.  Probably much to their disappointment the gifts were the traditional PJs from mom and dad.  BUT a new tradition was started and the siblings exchanged gifts.  Lotions, photo frames, nail polish for the big girls from Via.  Very carefully chosen and very proudly given.  The big girls came up big with 4 fabulous costumes.

The costumes were such a big hit!  I was proud of my big girls for choosing so perfectly!

Roast still not done.  Another alteration.

Down we went to settle in to watch 'Christmas Vacation.'  The littles first experience.  The twins giggled and laughed at the movie and at their sisters and uncle singing and saying the lines.  #3 found it completely inappropriate and silly not in a good way.  She had the same reaction to Elf;  why can't that big man behave.

At 8p.m. the roast was done and the table set.  Smashed potatoes, prime rib, beans and salad.  YUMMO!  Dinner was fancy and fun.

With dinner complete and cleaned up we realized that it was pretty late and much to the big girls dismay the party broke up.  With the cookies laid out and prayers said, three tired littles fell into bed and never utter one complaint.

The big girls settled in together to watch the end of the movie and at the last minute I decided to join them.  It was a wonderful quiet and restful moment to close a busy day.

The stage set for Santa; off to bed I went!

With cinnamon rolls rising, stockings stuffed and gifts laid out, I snuggled into bed.  I knew that the morning would come pretty early!  No one sleeps in when Santa is due!

A return to tradition? A new start?

The Barta family Christmas was held tonight.  Christmas Eve Eve.  Which is funny because Christmas Eve Eve is the term that my dear cousin and I coined to make fun of the fact that the Jancik (maternal side) celebrated Christmas on the 23rd because my grandmother hated that everyone was always late because they had to go to Christmas Eve mass.  So she moved the gathering.  Weird.
Anyway, it just so happens that the 23rd is the day that worked for everyone this year and therefore the Barta's gathered.

this photo was taken about 5 minutes after arriving.  Kids don't need to warm up!

To help readers understand the interesting genealogy of my family here is a quick fact.  It is small.  My mother and her sister married my father and his brother.  Two Jancik daughters, no more.  Two Barta sons, no more.  My mother had 4 children but only two Bartas.  Her sister had two daughters.  My cousins and I are 'double cousins.'  My cousins each had 1 daughter.  My brother has 3 children and of course I have five.  We are responsible for the greatest population boom in Barta/Jancik history.

When we gather with my mom's side of the family it includes: my mother, her husband Carl, my two half brothers (who are whole parts of my heart), my brother Guy and his family, my aunt Becky, uncle Ray, 2 cousins, their husbands and daughters.
When we gather with my dad's side of the family it includes: my dad, my step mom,  my brother Guy and his family, my aunt Becky, uncle Ray, 2 cousins, their husbands and daughters.

We just swap out a couple folks and do the same thing over again.  Weird.

Now back to the current celebration. This is a tale told in explanation and flashback, I guess.

We celebrated tonight at my dad and step mom's lovely home in west Omaha.  My dad lived in a different city from the time I was 6 until the time I was 28.  When he got a job based in Omaha it was the first time I could remember living in the same city as my father.  He, Paula and Emily were now available for every day kinds of gatherings, such that I never had growing up. Due to the distance and a number of factors I was never nearly as close to Emily, my younger half sister, as I am currently with my younger brothers.
Once Dad and Paula moved to Omaha family gatherings took place in their home.  It was large and gathering friendly.  Something no one else had. Plus Paula gets how to do gatherings. Win Win.

Emily loved Christmas and shopping for the perfect gift for each niece and for Guy and I.  She was also a premier gift wrapper and ribbon tie er.  She was also not a healthy young woman.  And to be honest I really have no idea the official diagnosis or depth of her illness.  It has never really been talked about out loud.  And to be honest it probably doesn't belong in this blog anyway.

Another flashback.  Nearly 7 years ago, in February, I got the kind of phone call that no one wants. It was 5a.m.  My dad was calling.  He was somewhere- Lincoln? I can't remember.  He was crying and nearly incoherent.  Emily was dead.  Paula was alone.  Could I get to her.  I pulled in to the drive next to the ambulance, around police cars.  I found Paula on the floor of the entry way.  Strangers hustling around.  Emily had gone to bed ill, some kind of flu like virus.  For no reason other than a mother's intuition Paula checked on her around 4:30 and found her dead.
My dad and Paula had 1 child together.  Emily was Paula's whole world.  The fractured, waif of a soul I found that morning was crushing to behold.  The next days nearly unbearable.
I still question and struggle and regret the lack of deep relationship I had with my only sister.  There are excuses sure.  I can't go back.  But I know that my relationship with Emily is something I didn't do right. There have been no family dinners, gatherings, drop off or pick ups, sleep overs, NOTHING, at  that house since that day. Much has been said, judged, implied, regretted, whatever about this.  Bottom line, healing is individual and should be.  Paula and Dad have had to move through this horrendous process and do what made sense to them. period.

For 6 Christmases all Barta gatherings have been held at Sortinos, the nursing home common room, parks.  I managed a couple at my house, though that was met with resistance.  My brother tried an Easter or two at his house. Sortinos, Golden Corral, the nursing home: these places equal torture if you have small children.  The past 3 years of holidays, birthdays and 'we should get together' functions have been horrendous events to be tolerated.  Marginal food, terrible environment.

So when Dad called to say that he and Paula would like to host, well, I was thrilled.  And a bit worried.

The cousins in their present circle.  Taking turns and enjoying each other.

We arrived just as my brother and his crew was arriving.  Children who know nothing of the emotion tied with this event bursting through the doors and racing to the basement.  The silence shattered.  The adults left in the foyer to navigate the old/new territory together.  What to do?  Follow the children.  Thank God for them in so many ways!

Dad and Paula added Sophie to their family this year.  And she too is a blessing.

The event proceeded like countless gatherings before.  Food, laughter, gifts, more food, photos and laughter and food.  My aunt, uncle and cousins arrived.  More laughter and food and sharing.

I think all cousin pairs find a place to hide and watch at some point!

My dad made a touching speech.  The Christmas tree at the center of the gathering was decorated by Paula and Emily 6 years ago.  Paula never took it down.  Some may judge.  I get it. #3 had spent the passed two days making and painting dough ornaments.  She quietly asked Grandma Paula if she could put one on the tree.  Together she and Paula put who knows how many on the tree.  It was lovely.  Old embracing new.  Emily would have so enjoyed these new nieces and nephews.

It was a wonderful gathering.  It felt natural and right.  Dad and Paula looked happy and together, united.  I have had tears since leaving.  I bet they had tears when everyone left.  My tears were of mixed emotions.  I hope theirs were too.  I think they will do this again.  I think little by little new traditions and old will blend.  I think to talk about Emily and what we loved and what we miss will become more natural and less halting and hurtful.

The next generation of the Barta family.

I think Christmas spirit and family can do a lot to heal.

Celebrating the day after '8th Eve'

Spinning in the fancy dress she chose at a costume shop.

Last year the count down occupied months of our time.  This year while we were definitely looking forward to the big birthday, #3 didn't subject us all to the daily count.  She did however inform us all that November 29th was actually, '8th Eve.'  Meaning of course, the Eve before her 8th birthday.  The best part about this new holiday is that my little ELL student came up with it and she was really tickled with herself.

True to form #3 didn't really ask for anything specific for her birthday.  She has written a letter to Santa and has some ideas for Christmas gifts, but mostly she doesn't seem to have caught on to the tried and true tradition of kids making lists and asking for everything under the sun for each personal holiday.  Thank goodness.

Her only requests was white cake, yellow frosting and pretty decorations.  I figured that wouldn't be too hard.  When Mom called offering to bring chili and #3's favorite chicken nuggets (frozen food aisle at Trader Joes), well, the birthday party couldn't get much easier.

Just like last year she was up at the crack of dawn and had herself  and her sister dressed before I knew they were up.  She had donuts set out for breakfast and was smiling from ear to ear.

A yellow barbie cake was a highlight of the evening!

She brought glazed donuts to her class and was so excited to do so.  A non chocolate eater, glazed donuts were the easiest and most kid friendly choice.  She enjoyed her school day the way she enjoys every school day.  Friends, math, recess, chatting with buddies during lunch: these are all things that #3 loves best about her day.  Friends are so very important.  Cruel words from one mean girl can cause rivers of tears at night.  Unfortunately, my head strong little one can snap off those cruel comments too and is trying to learn forgiveness instead of repaying in kind.  She is super at math and loves to sit around and write up numbers and patterns.  She continues to work and fight to gain ground in other subjects and catch up with peers.  Little by little she is doing so.  Just when teachers start to warn us that she is falling behind, she spurts ahead.  No 2nd grader has ever worked harder.

Extracurriculars have entered the scene too.  We now have Brownies and badge earning.  Bimonthly meetings are totally something to look forward to.  Of course they are another social opportunity, but V loves the homework that puts her at the table one on one with a parent a couple nights a before each meeting.  That time is much coveted.  The greatest addition to her life is dance class.  She says it is her dream come true and I am so pleased we started her with lessons.  Another monthly payment is a reach, but when she talks about her love for dancing and comes straight home to practice, well it is pretty hard to imagine cutting it out due to budget.

Emotionally, well, V is better.  For sure.  More confident, happier, more consistent.  But those deeper issues still rear their ugly head on occasion and when they hit, they hit hard.  She seeks fairness and equal time and opportunity for snuggles, homework, conversation.  She is desperate for approval and needs to feel like her decisions are the right ones.  The problem is that she needs to feel like she is right even if she isn't.  She doesn't forget a thing and can come back to a phrase or a even a look that she found upsetting and corner you for an apology.  She is still very much a work in progress, a job.

I continue to grow in my parenting of her.  I am forced to look in the mirror and analyze my parenting, behaviors and moods nearly daily.  This is what #3 and her intensity brings to the table.  Not really for the whole family, mostly just me.  The role of mommy, mother, momma, MOM, it is clearly defined in her head.  She knows what she needs.  Knows what she is missing.  Knows what she seeks.  And I am still a work in progress as well.  Struggling to provide those needs.  Giving love is the only thing I am certain of, the rest: discipline, guidance, education, the right level and kind of these is often a guessing game.

Showing off her sugar cookie with her famous toothy smile!

So here's to 365 days of work and love and prayer on the journey that is raising #3.  And here's to the child of my heart that started it all.  May we both learn and grow together.

FamilyDay Anniversary!

Two years ago today 7 individuals that had been working on forming a family for nearly a year gathered in the Washington County courthouse.  Grandparents and Fairy Godmother gathered with us to be part of the proceedings.

Less than an hour we walked out labeled with the same last name.  Seven Beckers.

Rubber stamping, formality, anti climatic.  All words that probably apply.

Gotcha day.  First holidays.  Nights of snuggling.  A family vacation.  All of these events were actually more meaningful and continue to be greater times to mark as the years melt together.

Becoming legal really didn't change a thing for us.  The work of forming a family was being done.  We were surrounded by people who love and support us.  We were together. The state telling us that the kids were Beckers didn't change a thing.

Having said all that, know that I in fact did look ahead to this anniversary.  It was talked about over breakfast and it warms my heart to think back on it.

Each step down the road to building a family is important and meaningful.  While walking the steps they seem long and tiring.  With hindsight the look back reveals something very special that not every family story has.

We are Beckers.  All 7 of us.  And we are Blessed.

Wonder Twins Unite!

Form of ....... a charming little lady's man.  Shape of ...... a compassionate caretaker with a bit of an attitude.

I hope that someday down the road the twins will not hold it against me that I was 2 weeks late writing their blog when they turned 4.  I did celebrate with them on the right day.

Though they share a day and a blog entry, I do want to write about them individually.  Bruiser has recently started to deny that she is a twin.  She wants her own day. She also thinks being twins with #1 would be better.  Bruiser has spent several quiet evenings looking at dresses and hairstyles on #1's iPad and is now her #1 fan.  I love this development.

Preschool has been a wonderful thing for Bruiser.  She adores her teachers, is excited to go each day and is learning a lot.  Her behavior can still get pretty off the rails, but she seems more aware of why her actions are wrong and more willing to take ownership.  She loves having friends and is so proud of her work.  Bruiser spent several chunks of last winter very ill.  We now have much more information about why and what she actually had.  My heart breaks when I think back on this because she suffered so much and I didn't act on it as quickly as I should have.  Nettie has such a strange way of 'being sick.'   She often doesn't get a fever or symptoms. She just behaves poorly.  She is BAD.  Fits and hits and yelling.  Sometimes it takes a week or 10 days before the actually health issue pops up.  I can't get a Dr.   or nurse to understand that her poor behavior DOES mean something is up.  I have started to fib when I call and claim there is a fever.  Then they will see us.  She has her second set of tubes, had more adenoid  tissue removed and is on more allergy medicine.  Thank goodness she has a preschool teacher who really knows her and is always warm and understanding.  Bruiser is as strong as an Ox, fiercely loyal, silly and creative and often my more behind the scenes kiddo.  BUT, she tells me she loves me 10 times a day and each time is as genuine as can be.  My bond with her is special in that her bond to me was so fast and so strong.  I also know that Nettie's life was saved through this adoption.  The health issues she faced would never have been addressed in her home country.  Nettie was made just for me and I know that without the slightest shadow of doubt.

Mr. Man is really much the same as he was a year ago.  Just bigger, both in size and personality.  He lights up a room and charms his way out of most difficult situations.  He has learned about music and singing at pre school and spends his play time and meal time sharing songs and rhymes.  We love it and are often surprised by how many different songs he knows.   Last week when I joined in on a song I knew he stopped me and said, "Mom, sing respectfully."  Yikes.  I didn't mean to be singing disrespectfully, but I guess I was.  Recently he has found action figures and loves playing with little plastic men.  He also loves to watch Spiderman and his Amazing friends... on his father's iPad, which he can run better than his father.  He is loving and charming and needs physical contact.  He loves to snuggle and often asks to have his belly rubbed.  He really enjoys chatting up the ladies at school.  Earlier this year he asked the mother of one of his classmates to come over and watch a movie.  Did I mention that she is probably the most beautiful preschool mom?  Yeah, he is a ladies' man.
It is not all flirting and charm though.  Mr. Man has been to the principal's office twice already.  He has thrown spiderman across the room ( he was flying mom), smashed a basket to bits (it sounded cool mom) and showed off his super hero underwear to a group of classmates.    I almost dread seeing the preschool staff during the day; it nearly always means one of the two has done something wrong.


Ultimately they are growing good and maturing.  They are getting easier to play with and take out in to the world.  I still feel as though my parenting skills are lacking when it comes to raising the twins.  Perhaps my energy is not quite up to the needed levels.  Or maybe I have become soft.  Or maybe I am too busy to do a good job for them.  Probably all of thee above. They lack discipline I fear.

There are such dramatic differences in the way our family functions today with 4year olds in the house compared to when the two big girls were 2 and 4 or 4 and 6.  I am constantly at battle with myself over how to do better or how to cut myself some slack.

I guess the bottom line is that they love us and they know we love them.  I do believe that is the most important thing we can do for them.  My insecurities come out when we are at gatherings with family or friends.  I just can't help but feel somewhat lacking.

The twins are my proof that God has a plan and though we may not understand it or like it, that plan is usually right on.  I wanted #3 to come home so badly.  I thought the wait was overwhelming and crushing.  Yet, if she had come home 6 months earlier I would never have met Mr. Man on our trip in October 09 and we never would have found them on the waiting children website.    They would not be mine to love.

So for better or worse, I will keep loving them and doing my best for them.  I can't be sure that any of the decisions I make about them are the right ones.  But I am positive I can be sure that they will love me and I them.

Everyone needs a little Glitter

Sixteen years ago I was registered to attend a lamaze class.  Eight hours of Lamaze.  I didn't want to go.  I wanted to spend Saturday at home.  I had been dreading the whole lamaze thing since the day I registered.  I woke up at 6a.m. with back pain.  By 7 the pain was much worse.  My dad was sitting in his lazy boy and I was in my mom's.  My mother and husband were in the camp of 'we signed up.  It won't be bad.  We probably should go.'
But Dad see, Dad, he was always on my side.  I remember him saying 'Heck with Lamaze.  She is probably in early labor right now.  You want her to have the baby in the class?'  Ha! Guess who got to stay home?

I settled in to read, watch Football and talk with Dad. By the time the family was readying for church I was feeling some pretty intense contractions.  Dad said 'Thomas load her in the car.  We will be there later!'  And off we went.

Nebraska was playing Arizona that night.  I packed a radio and headphones.  The hospital was absolutely quiet with TV's all on the same channel, from patients to Dr's to nurses station.  BUT it wasn't going well.  In fact it was horrible.  I was walking the hall listening to the game and making about as much progress toward birthing my child as the Huskers were toward a touchdown.  I am pretty sure the resident on call was ready to send me home.  And then in walks my Dr.  wearing Husker gear and a frown.  I don't remember his exact words, but they were something along the lines of "The Huskers aren't doing a thing.  Let's have this baby."  So we did.

I believed the child I was carrying was a boy.   My mother wanted me to have an oldest daughter.  She said every mother should have an oldest daughter.  As I write that now I realize that was really a beautiful thing to say to me.

My oldest daughter has done things on her own time, on big days and small, each day of her life.

Yes, we are both 'oldest daughter's' but that is where the similarities end.  For one thing, the other day I heard her say she loved calculus.  I have NEVER uttered those words.

As a child she moved through potential careers and fashion choices with a nimble ease and a passionate certainty.  Meteorologist, missionary, candy maker, a missionary candy maker, country western star, writer, actor, peace corp volunteer.  Tutus and curls, dance costumes and dresses, nike shorts and Calhoun t shirts, NOTHING PINK,  lots of pink, only pants, never pants, trendy, anti trends, vintage and thrift.  I remember during her sparkle phase she and I were shopping.  A lovely sales woman showed #1 a sequin skirt and said, "Wouldn't your mother be beautiful in this?"
#1 replied with total earnestness, "No thank you ma'am.  My mother just wears plain black pants."
Indeed.  God love her.

If you read this blog you know I am a planner, a list maker, madam practical.  I am known in some blogging circles as, The Management.  I don't do spontaneous or fanciful.  What if?  Not my type of question.  Prepared.  That is my motto.

But God gave me a sort of 'antidote' to all that planning and practicality.  My Mary Beth.

Her clown costume came with a free joke at every house!

While her years of twirling through the house and reading books in trees have passed, she still plans 'frolicking' outings with her friends.  And though she studies calculus and physics and has attended college fairs, she still loves a skirt that will pass the 'spin' test.

Over the last few years writing has taken a prominent role in her life.  Many of her blog posts have left me stirred:  pride, awe, new thoughts and memories seen through a different lens. Last year she took
on Poetry Slam.  I had no idea what this meant.  Open mic, Karoake and Improv... all things that terrify me.  But here is this child of mine in her mismatched, but carefully chosen vintage wear, standing at a microphone pouring forth her poems.  The first time I heard her I cried and my heart ached.  Later I realized I had reacted with such emotion that I forgot to take in the experience.  I didn't make the same mistake the next time.  I watched and listen to the audience.  The gasps, sighs, snaps, Oh Yeah's, You Tell It's.  The people leaning forward in their seats, heads nodding.  My child raised that within these strangers.  I've watched the video and read the words over and over since.  It never ceases to amaze me.
She continues to perform and her words are maturing; her style evolving.  I can't wait to see where she goes next.

So many strengths and passions abound in this one being.  Her parents, well, we wanted to give her the experiences we could afford, to show her enough to help her recognize on her own what compassion was and how to share it.  Warm heart, open mind, generous spirit.  The traits I wanted in my child.  They are ever present in my #1.   And while I know that I wanted this and tried to make decisions that would help me raise a child like this, she still amazes me.  I constantly feel as though she has happened in spite of me or FOR me.

Even in the chaos of a family vacation, #1 makes time to sit and think.

She is in denial about her current phase of life.  That of Junior in high school.  As in 2 years and it is time to go to college. Denial:  I should be there too.  But I am so very aware that she will bound for the world very soon.  And oddly, I don't want to deny it.  I am almost excited for it.  It is a bit like how I felt when waiting for her to start talking.  What will she sound like?  What will she say? Her father and I have been musing over just what the heck she would choose to do for years.  16 years.

My oldest child has changed many times over in her 16 years of life.  But her status as ray of sunshine has never changed.  And while she is in more than just a few ways, most definitely a teenage girl, she is far from ordinary.  Life with her in the house is far from ordinary.
She tolerates my planning and square ways with good humoring and understanding.  But I think she probably sprinkles glitter in my morning coffee.

On September 22nd, 1996 (and for the record it was suppose to be October 18th) a round headed, blue eyed sprite was handed to me.  When Dr. Huff said, 'It's a girl.'  I replied, 'Are you sure?'

I could almost ask God that same question today.  Are you sure this one is mine?  She is so fanciful and intelligent.  Confident and compassionate.  Musical and Musing.  What if I break her?  Are you sure she is supposed to be mine?

My heart feels His answer, "Trust me.  She is just what you need."

How did this happen?

Flags are at half staff again.  Facebook is full of photos and quotes reminding us of something that none of us needs to be reminded of.  Truly.  Anyone alive on 9/11/01 remembers in perfect kodak color the events of that day.  As the date nears we begin to 'feel' it; we know it is coming. And no, we won't ever forget.  It is so very true.

One of the questions coming out of that horrendous day was 'how did this happen?' And 11 years later I am pretty sure we don't have a good answer for it.  Hatred and evil and closed minds and tortured souls took an action that felt right to them.  Thousands were hurt/killed; victimized by the actions spawned from that hatred.  Truthfully we can do a lot of researching and take preventative measures and have pat downs and small baggies holding our stuff and still, where there is hatred and evil and closed minds and tortured souls, then thousands more can be hurt.

Where there is....

St. Francis tells us, Where there is hatred let me sow love, where there is injury, pardon.  Where there is doubt, faith.  Where there is misery, joy.

While 9/11 brought hatred and evil to the forefront of our minds in 2011, that same date just 3 years earlier meant something quite different to my family.

Love, forgiveness, faith, joy, happiness, celebration and awe arrived in the form of a 7 pound miracle.  My Anna Marie.

Each year I blog about my children individually on the date of their birth.  Anna's is always a bit bitter sweet. While unfair it is the case and will always be a part of her story.

She entered high school this year.   A Freshmen.  I caught her 'getting ready' to go to a football game.  I am pretty sure that just 12 months ago she threw on shorts and a t shirt and was ready.

She has a school computer, a funky back pack, her own sense of style and taste, make up, hipster glasses, friends who are nearly ready for college, a room decorated with silly friend photos and ticket stubs and magazine collages. She adds music and apps to my iTunes.  She uses spotify.  Chats and face times with friends.   She has pre season sports workouts. She asked about shopping for a homecoming dress.

Who is this child?  How did THIS happen?
To answer...a rambling guess from the mother...

She is a mirror of my youth.  Her wispy, sun bleached hair pulling free of the hair tie, just as her spirit pulls free of the restrictions of self doubt.  She is as long legged as any model, but that sensual grace still eludes her.  Instead she strides forward through life more like a yearling horse.  She even has those spontaneous equine leaps and bounds and yes, falls. Her laughter rings clear and bright.  Her stern words and harsh retorts cut quick and sharp.  In this way that mirror image of me has an X-ray quality, seeing through to the heart of us both.  The maternal instinct she carries is a strength and a weakness.  Doting on her siblings in a way that makes her invaluable to them in every situation.  The same quality causing her endless exasperation.
THIS- the growth and maturity of my second child- happened because biology wills it.  God decreed it.  Time marches on.  She happened because there is a God.  Because that God wants us to sow love, joy faith and mercy.  Because every mother knows that we inflict multitudes of injuries upon ourselves as women, daughters, wives and mothers, but the love of a child is pardon for all those wounds.  She happened because, I believe, God IS.

How can I make these two events on 9/11's exist next to that phrase, God IS.  I don't know how, but I know I must and I do.

An interesting paradox my Anna.  Fitting for a child who will always have at least a little celebration on a day when the country is in mourning.

On a date where hatred and fear reign, love was sown and joy given.
On a date marked by anger and outrage, mercy and pardon grew in the hearts of proud parents.
On a date that inflicted injury and tragedy, healing and hope was delivered to my waiting arms.





14 years of joy and mystery and love and growth and hope.  My darling child growing up and probably away, little by little.  But never out of my heart.

2012-2013 Here We Go.

A Junior.  A Freshmen.  A 2nd Grader. Two Preschoolers.  Two teachers.

Getting ready for the school year is pretty major in a house hold of this composition.  A variety of worries and anxieties.  Many levels of enthusiasm and angst.  Many reasons for wanting and not wanting the school year to start.

But no one asked any of us; the year just started.

First #1 and Dad took off to DASH.  They have been hard at work ever since.  #1 is currently feeling the pressure of junior year.  The work and the future seem ever present for her.  She is lovely and successful already and I have no doubt the year will continue to go well for her. She is already at work on the fall production.  She and Dad are rehearsing 'A Comedy of Errors.'

Then two weeks later #2, #3 and Things 1 and 2 packed the Pilot with me and off we went to BT.  I made a big effort to organize the morning so I could take the twins to their first classroom on the first day of school.  They skipped all the way to the room. Packed away their bags and cruised off to play.  I said goodbye 3 times.  I even said, 'Mommy is leaving now.'  They didn't care at all.  Just kept playing and yelled, 'bye.'

#3 settled in just as quickly. Lovin' her new room and seeing her friends, she too was ready for me to go my way. Again, this is just what you hope for as a parent.  It is beautiful to see confidence and enjoyment blossoming in #3.  She truly loves her school.

Freshman year started for #2 and I think she loves it.  She certainly looks too 'freshmany' for my tastes. Lovely, but so darn grown up.  The homework is hitting her hard already, but she has never been afraid to work hard.

The fall play is around the corner for me and as we are under new leadership here I feel compelled to make it pretty great.  Who knows.
Right now I am getting my feet under me and wondering how I am going to manage it all.

But I still feel pretty blessed that I have 'it all' to manage.

Good Bye summer of F's.

The Summer is officially done.  All the markers are there to say it is true:  teacher days, school shopping, first day of school and Labor Day have all passed.  The white shoes are put away.

It is with some uncertainty I report that the summer was good.  I learned a lot about faith from a variety of sources and situations.  I spent hours each day with portions of the family doing whatever, whenever, with little or no schedule.  Zoo- 8 trips.  Children's Museum- 12 trips.  Durham- 5 trips. Botanical Gardens- 3 trips.  4 splash parks.  7 city parks.  2 trips to Fontanelle Forest.  I think we did this summer up just right.  Oh, and camping to South Dakota and a ton of swimming.

Fall preparation?  Well it took a back seat to Family, as it should.  But I chose a fall play and a musical. I had costume meetings and Fairy Godmother meetings to plan ahead.  I have read, read and reread the script.  The musical lives in my head a bit looser.  I had lesson plans done and new ideas cultivated enough to get started.  My room was fancy for the open house.  I guess I call that a win.

Fitness.  Yeah, fitness pretty much sucked.  I am not going to get in to that here.

We jump in to a new school recharged and ready.  I ran like a crazy woman all summer long, but I have no regrets about that.  Didn't take care of myself like perhaps I should have, but I worked on being a first rate mom and I think I came pretty close.

Now to find the balance so first rate mom can meet first rate teacher.  Oh boy.

Desperation and Disbelief

In desperation I starting looking for grants and funding help as the deadline passed to obtain citizenship for the 3 littles.  A bit late.  True to form when I got overwhelmed and felt I had no hope or options I buried my head in the sand and pretended the issue didn't exist.  This works well for Ostriches.

I found gofundme.com

I researched.

I prayed and threw the Hail Mary.
 (on the Feast of the Assumption- which is a great day to launch a Hail Mary)

I set up the account. Linked to Facebook and twitter.  Shut down the computer and went school supply shopping.

When I came home we had over 400.00 on our page.

As I write this we have 3,325.00.

God is good and his people are generous in spirit.  This has been a real lesson in Faith.

I will take the littles for their citizenship physicals on Monday at 3:30.  After 2 1/2 years of waiting and worrying it took just hours for friends, family and perhaps the Blessed Mother to make this happen.

Here is our fundraising page.  There is a list on the right side of all the people who are a part of our story.  We won't ever be able to repay them, but we won't ever forget either.

http://www.gofundme.com/BeckerCitizenshipProcess

"Immaculate Mary your praises we sing.
You reign now in Heaven with Jesus our King.
Ave, Ave, Ave Maria.  Ave, Ave, Maria."

O Mother of Perpetual Help, grant me ever to be able to call upon thy powerful name, since thy name is the help of the living and the salvation of the dying. Ah, Mary most pure, Mary most sweet, grant that thy name from this day forth may be to me the very breath of life. Dear Lady, delay not to come to my assistance whenever I call upon thee; for in all the temptations that assail me, in all the necessities that befall me, I will never leave off calling upon thee, ever repeating: Mary, Mary. What comfort, what sweetness, what confidence, what tenderness fills my soul at the sound of thy name, at the very thought of thee! I give thanks to our Lord, who for my sake hath given thee a name so sweet, so lovable, so mighty. But I am not content merely to speak thy name; I would utter it for very love of thee; it is my desire that love should ever remind me to name thee, Mother of Perpetual Help. 

Amen.

It's An Olympic Tradition!

I am a pretty serious and conservative person when it comes to my social life.  I don't do costumes and I  am not particularly cheesy.  I do wear red every football Saturday and I do dress every child in red as well.  But that isn't cheesy, that is a way of NE life.

However, when it comes to the Olympics all bets are off.  It is only every 4 years that something this wonderful happens and for that I go all out. ( I was even married in an Olympic year, though not on purpose)

The Olympic opening ceremonies parties started in 2000.  #1 was 4 (or nearly) and #2 was 2 (nearly) and we had friends with children of the same ages.  I wanted the girls to understand that it was a wonderful tradition for the world.  I wanted them to enjoy watching individuals from around the world who had spent their lives trying to be their very best.  The stories of overcoming adversity, forming bonds across battle lines and rising to the top teach valuable lessons.  Perhaps I knew that I would want the TV set to some part of the Olympics nearly 24-7 and I was hoping to bribe them into watching by starting with a party.  Who knows.  But I threw a party and the kids enjoyed and I have been doing it ever since.

Future Road Cyclists?

Sidney Olympics brought coral reefs and gators. Also photos and lessons on the aborigines. Athens was a time for myths, layered desserts and gyros.  Beijing was a feast of chinese take out and paper lanterns.  The house decorated, games and information sheets printed, and of course a torch run.

The new house got ready to celebrate the 2012 London Olympics with a team effort.  Our fearless leader painted the basement...yay, no more black wall.  #1 and #3 created and hung posters and cleaned.  #2 baked till her legs ached from standing and then cleaned the kitchen and bossed the rest of us around.  She also guarded her baked goods like Fort Knox and upset her father to no end.  All of us tried to keep the twins under control.  I of course did everything I could think of from outside to inside and top to bottom of the house.  Plus created prizes, games and take home packets.

Fairy Godmother was about to experience her first Becker theme party and she helped by shopping, bringing a fryer and an amazing dish called Bangers and mash.  She also provided the host and hostess with costume wear.  And I think she was surprised to find that I could throw a pretty decent theme party.

Before the arrival of Guests.  Thomas looks happier about his crown than he was.

The littles loved the whole ordeal.  #2 got to watch most of the opening ceremonies, though not in peace.  Our amazing pre school teacher came and took on the challenge of all the games I so painstakingly found and laminated.  God Bless Her, no one else did.  I sent her home with a prize.  Her wonderful husband kept Mr. Man out of trouble and got him very tired.  They will be invited back.
The grandparents came and laughed and helped and tried to enjoy, though it was chaotic.
#1 invited friends and the ones who came jumped right in to the chaos and theme and seemed to enjoy it.


The Torch Run, complete with tissue paper torches, was held even though we were in Omaha and there were more eyes to witness the cheesy tradition.  My lovely #1 and #2, and their friends, jumped right in and got the crew of kids and torches around the block.  I was very proud of my big girls for being a part of this silly spectacle.  It was their 4th such run.

As we get set to start the run!

I saw very little of the ceremony and am thankful that in this day and age of technology I am sure I can find it on line, in it's entirety.  Yes I will watch it.

Ready, Set, Go!

Saturday morning dawned, but not until 8:30!  Yay for the littles sleeping in.  Bruiser's first question:  Is the party over?  What a mess was everywhere!  I spent a good chunk of the morning rehashing the high lights and few low lights with #2 on down--#1 slept in.  It seems everyone was glad that we kept the tradition.

Thing one and two in a battle with Fairy Godfather.

Conclusion of the very successful Torch Run!

My goal the next two weeks is to get to enjoy some of the competition each day.  I will also try to teach the littles about the Olympics and the sports we watch.  I have a new group of family members to work with and since they only come around every 4 years, I gotta do them up right when I get the chance.

Family Time and Nothing Else

Once a year the wilderness calls and the Beckers answer.  It started about 10 years ago when we had to get from Fort Calhoun to Bozeman, Montana for a wedding.  While most of the family either flew (too expensive for us), drove in shifts and stayed at cute little B&B's (ditto) or drove it all straight through (with little ones, HA), we chose the only option open to us.  We drove in shifts, camping our way to Montana and back.  I had never really camped and certainly never with kids, but Thomas assured me it would be great.  Now, that particular trip had many ups and downs and lessons learned, but since then, we have gotten pretty  good at it.  Our two big girls are comfortable with tent camping and seem to enjoy it as much as the parents.  The 3 littles (a new phrase I have started using) were a bit perplexed last year, but this year when the tent came out there was much rejoicing.  So when vacation time calls, we camp.

The Becker 5 on top of a big rock at Sylvan Lake!

The Black Hills was our destination this year.  We haven't been to the Hills for 5 years.  In fact, the last time we were there we told the family about being matched with #3.  Our first meal stop on this trip was in Chadron NE, Angela's Eatery.  It was in this restaurant that we told #1 and #2 about being matched with a little girl.  VERY cool to have a meal together as a family of 7 and retell the story to #3, who loves to hear stories about herself.

Via at Angela's.  We first told the girls about
their new sister at this restaurant.

The Black Hills was also a great choice because camping in Custer State Park is pretty easy, but still rustic.  They do have showers and real toilets, the campsites aren't right on the road but you don't have to 'hike' in to the site.  There are no bears so you can set up camp and leave it set up.  We love Colorado, don't get me wrong, but carrying all scented items to the car every time you leave the site or go to bed can be a real pain. The lakes and beaches for swimming and the variety of wildlife added to the easy choice.

Close encounter with a 'wild' burro on the wild life loop.
We drove this loop twice and the kids just loved it!

Things we thought we would do:
Spend a day exploring all the facets of Mount Rushmore.
Eat Ice cream at MT Rushmore.
Spend a full morning hiking the Harney peak trail.
Swim at Sylvan and Center Lake
Hike a nature trail along French Creek
Explore and shop downtown Rapid City
Make smores
Cook meals in the fire pit
Earn Junior ranger badges
Wear warm clothes to bed and wake up a bit chilly
Read and relax at the campsite
Bond as a family

Things we actually did:
Spend an hour at Mt. Rushmore:  shoulder to shoulder crowd, 97 degrees and kids who were pretty done experiencing the awe in about 15 minutes meant that we didnt really need much more time.

THE FACES MOMMA!

Ice Cream Lunch!  Cones bigger than the kids' heads and big messes, but worth it!

Jeannette is a champion ice cream eater and not too messy.  Her twin is another story.

Look at the Harney map, listen to Nettie and John whine as we walked from the car to the beach area (about 100 yards past the Harney trail head) and decide an afternoon on the beach was just fine.
Hike and rock climb all around Sylvan Lake- totally fun and Mr. Man is an awesome and fearless climber!
Skip French Creek but enjoy the paved trail between our camp grounds and the visitor center.
Get Jr. Ranger booklets, realize there is no way all those activities can happen if we want any relaxation time.  Decide to use ranger booklets as car activities. (or scrap paper)
Skip Rapid City and go back to the beach. No one wants to corral kids when they can run free and stay out of our hair on a beach.
Turn Hobo meals into stir fry- the fire ban due to drought meant NO campfire.
Make jiffy pop on the camp stove because no fire also mean no smores.
95 and higher degree days + 75 degree nights meant no one wanted a fire.
No long sleeve clothing was worn, ever. (no ugly campfire feet though!)
Enjoy the small pond on the campground for HOURS each day!  Woo Hoo!  Independent play!!!
Bond as a family?  Well, sometimes.  And those times were enough to warm the parent's hearts.

Read, yes.  Relax?  Well, camping, cooking, cleaning up and planning for a rustic vacation for a family of 4 is pretty easy and cheap.  Add 3 and it really changes things.  When 2 of the 3 are preschool age, well, it can be a TON of work.

We really did love it.  The kids all seemed to enjoy it.  The big girls tried to maintain camping traditions and teach the littles to carry the tradition onward.  Most of the time they were successful.  When they weren't they were typical annoyed teens.  And that is OK too.

Yep.  Sometimes they were annoyed.

In a time of uncertainty all around us.  An economy that is pillaging many families.  Teens who can 'hate' or resent family life of any kind.  Mass media and social media addictions.  Illness that prevents living a full life.  I could go on and on...

With these kinds of possibilities and circumstances all around us, it was easy to remind myself each day of the planning and packing, driving, camping, driving, unpacking;  that I am so blessed that this kind of opportunity and family are part of my life.

Faith and Family and the great outdoors.  Can't ask for more.