Coming OR Radomnization after vacation

Less than a week with out wi-fi and my brain is as stuffed full as my carry-on luggage was!


The afore mentioned luggage right now is sitting in chaotic piles of 2am arrival-exhaustion, in the middle of our front room. 


I conscientiously decided unpacking felt more like a Saturday job, wouldn't you agree???
So there it sits patiently, while I stare at my kids, trying to pinpoint exactly how they changed in the last 5 days 
(cuz they totally have!) 






I love coming home to my kids. I love their first sight of me, when I feel like the just the most important, special person in the while world! I love looking at them like their brand new. How McKye has new words, and Levi has new ways of wriggling his eyebrows before his smile ( that looks just a little more toothy) breaks out and makes me fall more in love with him. I love how Aaron for days is even more snuggly (if at all possible) and takes even deeper breaths of me as he pretends to kiss my cheek when he's; really making sure his mamma still smells the same. I even love the first time (not long after our reuniting) that I feel annoyed, or impatient and I remind myself, "remember how much you missed them?"


And then I smile at the irony of the amount of joy this crazy parenting gig pays out.


It's just the best. In all it's ketchup smearing, toy-scattering, ill-timed whining glory!


So instead of putting our lives back together... right away (my foundation that leaked all over my makeup bag, is just sitting there on the counter waiting to be taken care of) we just settled back into each other first.


I'm catching up on blogs  and blogging (though I have a pretty bad track record of actually getting to posting trips...so far I have Spokane, Idaho and DC to still do;) Oh and ofcourse watching this weeks Parenthood (my fav TV show by miles!)


Besides starting at my kiddos, I keep creeping into my  kitchen and getting giddy over the new paint job!!! Even he doors are still curing (sp?) I can already see the finished product in my mind, the new way the light is gonna dance all over, gleaming off the "white chocolate"... how delicious is THAT for a kitchen paint colour name?


I had lots of interesting thoughts while I was a way. 
But now home they don't seem as significant.


My whole world is nestled back in between my arms where it belongs.

Fries with more "chup" 

and big smiles, on his getting so grown up face!

I went back and forth between these two picture on my camera two dozens time, mesmerized by the transition from his supple, open, lost in those baby-blues face, to his sqinchy nose, twinkle-eyed goofy grin.

 Aaron was busy making the puzzle his babysitter said he put together all week...

 before zonking out. He was up early a couple mornings/nights thsi week on his poor, yet so wonderful about it (especially cuz she pregnant!) babysitter. 

Not gonna lie it a was a little validating to have someone, who I nigh-on worship as one of thee most spectacular moms I know, look at me and say "Chels, I don't know how you do it!"

How do I do it? I guess I go on vacation every once in a while so I remember that of all the sights in the whole wide world nothing touches, fills or inspires me more than this.

Leaving

Ben and I travel without our kids.

Some people seem to be so good at taking their kids along (my theory is they just haven’t tried it without!)

And we do take them too sometimes. But not if we want a break.

I remember one blogger clarifying the difference :a "trip" is with kids, 

a "vacation" is without.

Another tv mom informed her husband as they set out on a family vacation,"Honey, for me, this is a business trip!”

This week we’re traveling with out them.

It’s bitter sweet.

Ben (who has more practice walking out the door every day to go off to work and "leave” his little hoodlems) gives a hug and a "See ya bud”

While I, on the other hand get all emotional as I imagine the last momemts my child will ever remmebr of me if something were to happened to us.

I told Ben that as we dropped off McKye, and his comforting statement was “He's three, there’s no way he’ll remember.”

Which, of course, filled me with utter horror. My poor orphaned child unable to muster  a single memory of his own mother (ladies this a good reason to hand the camera off every once in a while and actually be in some family snap shoots!)

And because apparently trying to draw up our will  has made me ubber sensitive to our fragile existence(down right paranoid in fact), here’s some memories for you boys, just incase. (Ironically, I wrote this the first night in the hotel but because of basically non-existent wi-fi I didn't post it, so if something had happened they wouldn't have had this anyway!)

If you forget everything else....(while this is my little ritual with McKye, I think it encapsulates the message I hope they all get)

I always wanted to make sure I had your full attention. 

I wanted it to be not just three little words but a routine, predictable, solid—a symbol in itself of what I was about to say.

I’d grab your little face, my palms pressed on your cheeks, my fingers tempted to trace the ears I’m sure you'll grow into. The ears that get stuck in the insufficient neck-holes of the little t-shirts you pick out each morning, to wear with your insisted upon jeans (all of which have holes but you refuse to wear anything but!)

Our eyes mirror one another,  the very same brown, mutually reflected, pigment mixed by the same dominate genes, that make me wonder what other ways we’re a like.

I come close.

Often nose-touching close.

I don’t want any distrations.

I want you to hear me.

“Guess what?” I initiate.

“Guess what?” You parrot, those brown eyes coming alive with the recognition to what we have begun.

“Guess what?” I continue

“Guess what?” you play along, the sparkle in your eyes growing.

“Guess what?” I try a  few different voices, intonations, keeping it interesting.

“Guess what?” You copy perfectly. SO good at this game of ours.

“Guess what?” I whisper, letting the hush settle between us (though theres not much room)

“Guess what?” your little knowing voice barely audible. 

Here comes the best part.

“I love you.” 

   Declared.

“I love you.” 

  Accepted.

  Understood I hope. 

If not, at least mutually felt.

Your well trained lips pucker on cue and reach for mine, my heart swelling beyond imagination every single time.

“I LOVE YOU!!!!!!” our reverence gives way once more to silliness to finish off.

“I LLLOVVVEEEE YOOOOOOUUUUUU!” you always “win”

Once more smooch this time with a exaggerated 

“ummmmm-wwwaaaahhhh” sound effect.

Everyday.

At least once.

Our little ritual.

My message I hope is clear.

I love you. I always will. NO matter what. 

My love is stable (despite mommy’s volatile moods) 

My love is sure (even when life and super clamour)

If there is nothing you can depend on in this whole entire world, 

I want you to know you can lean on the love of your mother, 

because it will never change.

It will always be.

No matter what you do, or what path you take, how far you try to distance yourself, my love will always be cheek-grabbing nose-touching, brown eyes melting into each other close.

And guess what?

I love you. 

My new goal words for 2012

This past Sunday, and first day of the new year,  as we waited for Sacrament meeting to start, my mother-in-law leaned over and said "So, what are your words this year?" 

(lost? here's a link to a post I wrote about my process and past years words)

To be honest, amidst Christmas extravaganza 2011, I hadn't given on lick of thought to my words this year.  With that little reminder, my mind went into ponder mode, and by the time church was over I'd received each of the focus words for me and each of "my boys" (which includses Benny, if your new to reading me.)

There is lots of revelation I really work hard for, searching, studying, asking, but these words have always just come. Like a late Christmas present, floating down from a loving Heavenly Father wanting me to know He's gonna be there for me this year too, to "guide the future as He has the past" (Be Still my Soul, Hymn 124)  And each year his first guidance is my words.

With no further ado, this year's:

I love the one for Ben. Counsel. A step up from last years "involve", it suggests trust and partnership, focus and unity. He has so much to offer our family. He has grown so much in his leadership skills at work and I'm excited to see them transfer to a greater degree to our home.

Aaron's as interesting. I thought maybe it was "Hold on" as inn don't give up and keep hoping, or even holding him from escaping from our family life in attempts to isolate himself. 

But it wasn't.

It was just "hold him".

He would snuggle all day if I let him, but I'm somewhat ashamed to admit that I'm guilty of pushing him away, not wanting to interrupt my "important" doings to have my hair pulled--however lovingly. Today as he curled his ever-growing legs up onto my lap during church, I realized he is not going to remain "cuddle-able" size indefinitely. I need to snuggle him while I can. I think so much of Aaron's affection, attachment and even sense of worth, even belonging come from his physical interactions. It's his love language for sure. There's so much expected of him, really hard things, that aren't hard for others. I'm sure he struggles with discouragement at times beneath his giggling.

 I want to always hold him close to us and let him know he, just as he is, is enough. Enough to love. Enough to hold. 

McKye's is very different. I was thumbing through a hymnbook and the word "bid" lept out at me. 

I choose it without even really knowing what it meant or how it applied to my intense little McKye.

When I looked it up

bid: to issue a command; to direct;to invite to attend; summon

It was so perfect. 

It is, however, going to take some courage on my part. 

I'm not very authoritative in my parenting approach (could you tell?) if anything I error to the side of permissiveness and realize the challenge (like in everything) is to strike a good balance.

While I don't believe in controlling kids, the word "bid" made me feel like I needed to trust McKye more, and believe in his capacity to learn to obey, not in fear or coercion, but in cooperation and loving trust. In order for him to grow he needs to think and choose and act.

I need to stop avoiding asking him to act (rather than be acted upon) out of my own fears of my own lack of follow through (any body else have this problem?) Invitations to obey, to learn, and to ultimately grow and become something (independent of mommy's directions).

I'm pretty good at providing him options, and sometimes I feel like our little existence is a continual round of me offering him opportunities to choose this cup or that, these undies or those (he's a bit of a control seeker and I found this really helped him feel a bit more empowered). Now to let him choose, not just between equally acceptable options but to practice between right and wrong, in the form of listening to mommy or not. This may seem a bit "late", but if I've learned anything about parenting it's that you go at the kids pace, or else it's just frustration all the way. And I think he's ready. Ready to start feeling more contribution, more thought processes, more ideas of his own, more problem solving after a year of constant observing and immeasurable absorption. I refuse to be a dictator and I love the principle I heard (somewhere)  of instead of telling our kids GO (go clean your room, go do your homework), we should say COME (come, let's clean up, come lets help get super ready). 

Initially so much more work, but so more effective in the long run. 

After only a couple of days of being brave and bidding McKye, I have been amazed how ready he is to start acting for himself. There's still lots of "no, mommy do!"s, but there's also such a growing sense of ability and accomplishment. I love when his little face beams with it, and he  pumps his little fists to accentuate his oh so proud "I did it!"

Ah Levi.
On Sunday I had wandered from our pew to the back, pacing with Levi in my arms, giving him a change of scenery in what was fast becoming a long meeting. I was contemplated the words I chose thus far and wondering about his, when he reached his little face over, with his kissy-eyes, offering me a little open-mouth, slobber-filled beginners kiss. And as he planted one on me, his word came too.
Enjoy.
With my other boys by this time another baby was either already "in the works" or "on the way". And although we're not done having kids we're on a much needed and I feel, divinely sanctioned "break". And so I have the luxury of holding on to Levi's babyhood more so than with his brothers, who had to grow up and become big brothers all too soon.
I just get to bask in his squish-able cheeks, and wide eyes. Watch his fascinated with his own tongue,  or wiggling toes. I get to still chuckle inside when I watch him toddle so fast you're sure he's gonna bif it, but he rarely does. I get to try and remember every new expression, every determined and oh so concentrated manoeuvre of his tubby baby fingers on their quest to pick up peas or Cheerios or carpet fuzz, on their journey past his lips so relaxed their moisture inevitably runs to drool. His gurgling-chokey chuckle when I tickle under his chin. His baby smile of budding teeth. His still wispy blonde locks, that gleam in the light streaming across his high chair.
Levi is the dessert of my young mother years. And I'm ready to savour ever last delicious, whip-creamy bite. Enjoy! (mmm, anyone else suddenly hungry?)

Pictures taken by Photos by Kels

I need to think a little more on mine. Purify.  Partly I think it is purifying my choices and the subsequent messages they place inside me. But I think it also has to do with pureness being an essence.  

Beyond simplifying, but seeking out the pureness of the essential things in life. 

Boiling life down, til all the extra, all the superfluous, all the impure melts away leaving only 

what really matters. 

This passage is still sticking to the insides of my brain.

She laughed again. "You know, some things don't matter that much...

the whole problem with people is--"

"They don't now what matters and what doesn't," I said, filling in her sentence and feeling proud of myself for doing so.

"I was gonna say, The problem is they know what matters, but they don't choose it...

The hardest thing on earth is choosing what matters."

(The Secret Life of Bees,  by Sue Monk Kidd, pg 147) 

I know these words that the Lord gives me are to help me focus on what matters. 

A focal point, that blurs everything eles into fuzzy-insignificance.

Now to maintain the focus. 

To counsel, to hold, to bid, to enjoy and to purify. 

At least for this year.

Family NewYears letter (and a bunch of other rambling and thinking about the processes and purposes of preserving memories:)

There is something in my brain that says "A good mom keeps a record of her family"

I don't know who whispered this in, and while the principle in general is sound, I doubt the validity  of complexity of it's application and the additional expectations we have attached to this process. In general I have THOUGHT much more about this than I have DONE.

Does this keep anyone else up at night? My analytical brain at times gives me a headache!

During my first pregnancy, I took all our dating photos and diligently scrapbooked them. We started dating in high school (for 6 years if you count our missions, which Ben doesn't but I do) and it was before digital and so there were loads of pretty crappy, grainy pictures taken with cheap camera...but it was our genesis, and I knew from my mother's good intentioned shoe boxes full of family photos, that if I didn't do it BEFORE I started having adorable children I'd want to take pictures of non-stop, it wasn't gonna happen.

I did traditional scrapbooking (nothing fancy by any means, mostly paper as I'm way to cheap to get all the cutesy embellishments or tools that separate the "mes" with the hardcore-committees, you know who you are) for Aaron first couple years. And then I felt like it was going outta style way too fast. The paper that was oh so cute, started looking oh so cheesy. Plus I got a better camera and I was composing pictures how I wanted them, with little to cut and crop out.

I bought albums, that only one trip to Hawaii got printed out and put in, before my vision of beautiful shelves lined with chronologically organized family albums promptly died.

Selecting and printing photos just was not happening. I needed a new plan.

I live in fear of technologies becoming obsolete and all my cherished photos becoming inaccessible, like the precious genealogy both Ben's grandpas gave us...on floppy disks. 

I now do iPhoto books. I know there's better programs out there, that would let my creative juices drool a little more, but I just like having ALL my photos available, my brain's process isn't planning enough to select and upload only certain photos. 

And then I look at my amazing friends amazing blog, and wonder if I'm overcompensating with quantity  what I lack in quality. 

( In fact I'm recognizing I may do that in lot of areas in my life, even this blog:)

I followed a link off her blog and read a little   scrapbooks: the big picture

I love her advice:

If you are interested in being a documenter of life – or if you have already been taking pictures and/or scrapbooking for quite some time – It’s worth stepping away from your tools and supplies and computer … and just step back for a moment (or a day or a week).

Ponder these questions: What do I want the end result to be? Why am I doing this? Who is this for? What do I want to get out of it? 

So I did. I thought about it. I pulled out things I HAD done and reflected on what I enjoyed most about them. I tried to stip myself of the ideas of what I think I SHOULD do. 

It was an interesting little exercise. 

First, I decided  (having thought about the rubbermaid of school papers my mother-in-law endowed us with, after painstakingly preserving it through countless moves) If I don't wanna keep it for me, I ain't gonna do it. (Maybe when if I have daughters I'll re-evaluate this) but the concept of handing my children this lovely, complete documentation of their life-thus-far as they put on a cap and gown or embark on their wedding day...nice idea, but we're not gonna do it that way. 

I'm gonna make family photo albums that they can come to MY house and see. So there.

(even as I type this I'm thinking, I need to do a 1st year calendar for Levi, cuz I did one for Mckye!)

Because in the end, I need to own the fact that I'm doing it because I want to. I like doing it. I like taking photos and I like looking at photos I've taken. 

I've written before about this.  But it truly is a healing process for me. 

I way for me to to take inventory of the good, to inundate my senses with the beauty of my life, to flood my soul with appreciation and feelings of love for all those people (who may or may not have been annoyed with me pointing my camera in their face once again.)

A way to remember, but more importantly a way not to forget.

Because we do. We forget how amazing life can be. How generous it can be. How little moments can fill and make us, so gradually it's often imperceptible. 

All my many pictures, give me the big picture.

So my photos, however they end up getting stored, are my way of feeling life. 

So one day when I'm old and lonely, my worn tired hands can thumb through and feel all was as it was meant to be (even the painfully hard), and that all those moments cumulated was a good life. Cuz it really, really is. 

So one "systematic" thing I actually have done through out our marriage is a New Year letter (not a Christmas letter, way to much going on in December...what a clever way to justify being late every year eh?) Every year is shoudl be simple, but never seems to end up that way, and I consider scrapping it all together (for a fun Christmas photo card, names years done!) But before I started this blog, I felt I needed to at least annual actually write a few a highlights. Helps me keep big events and years straight (you know your getting old when!)

This years was short and sweet and (thanks to the wisdom of my editor, Rebecca) not written in the ever-awkward third person.

Some blast from the past:

Christmas comes to a close

I think my brain stores memories in little folders, with photos stuck to the front.I'm a total word person, and an audio learner, but when it comes to memory it's all image baby. 

So here's Chritsmas 2011 as it will be "stored" in my mind and on my computer bursting with jPegs! All Christmas (which consisted of over a week of extended family at our house) if I wasn't weilding my actual camera, I was steadying my iPhone to quickly capture a moment, a dish, a memory (hence those of you on instagram or facebook getting a bit of a play by play already). 

"Why are you taking a picture of THat?" I got asked more than once.

Because. Because something about it contributed to an overall sense of Christmas or family, or togetherness, to me. The picture of my grandma (at the end of this post) and her glorious yellow china, my mom and her satiny doll, so obviously cherished,  kept coming to me like a ghost of Christmas past, whispering, "You think you'll remember, and maybe you will, but others will want to see, they'll want to try and understand." I'm not suggesting they all will, I'm sure there will be loads of my posterity that could care less what hor dourves we devour Christmas Eve, or that we celebrate Christmas "Adam" on the 23, or that my mom's nutcrackers are always a hit with the grandkids...but maybe there'll be one or two Chelsea-ish ones who want to know. Because part of understanding ourselves, can only come as we understand where we've come from, happiness and hurt, Christmas glory and daily struggle.

So if your that great-great grandchild, and you've somehow managed to access this obsolete technology, here's a glimpse at Christmas at our house, way back in 2011.

Getting ready.

My pre-Christmas gift? The darling neighbour children popping over to inform me their were taking my kids for a bit so I could finish getting ready for my company.(Obviously their amazing mother was behind this brillant plan!)

I ended up wrapping all the presents (which it wasn't until later  I realized what a blessing that was, when I tried to wrap a few more and ended up totally exasperated  at Levi's commitment to get his hands on the scissors and McKye's idea that he just had to stomp all over the paper.

So thanks friends, I so needed that, and didn't even know it!

Ben's family all came here this year. 

Bretzke Christmas has a few key components. 

The first being FOOD.

Whether it's bags of candy, yummy dips, literally pounds of wings, deluxe egg-mcmuffins, or good old mash potatoes and gravy, food is a favorite and a must.

Thankfully everyone helped with food prep, and the subsequent clean-ups and that aspect actually went surprisingly well (for me, who though not a bad cook isn't as shall we say committed to producing constant deliciousness.)

Games, good chats and movies all are definite components as well. 

The food was just fun to take pictures of:)
That's Benny's hot chocolate dispenser (his fav thing on our cruise was hot-chocolate on tap)

A really special part of Christmas was having Ben's grandma with us.


Seeing as just a few weeks before we were carolling to her in the hospital, she really was amazing. Especially with all the children, and general chaos that comes with multiple families bunking out under one roof.

A quiet Christmas it was not, but Grandma's quiet spirit tried to remind us.

Probably my Christmas highlight came as we sat at the table one night and just listened as she shared some stories from her life, cleared up some family history details and just let us enjoy her.

There may not be too many more Christmases with her (she's already outlived a couple different serious health issues), all I know is that this was a good one.
And I was so glad she was here.

My kids often wear pants OR shirts, just seemingly never together!

After a feast of appetizers,  some entertaining Kinect's playing, and a little wrapping paper tube swash-buckling, it was time or presents...

We always open presents on Christmas Eve night.
(at least we did once, and there's no going back now)
Levi took it pretty seriously apparently.

<-----THIS is McKye's big (most expensive) present.


And this------------->
is the last minute ten dollar extra we picked up, a litte blender to go with his adored play kitchen, 


that he played with NON- STOP all christmas long.


He didn't touch the guitar.

Aaron is always a little tricky to buy for, and he's not one to pretend he likes something, so I was so pleased when he really took to a couple of his gifts.


His Toy Story puzzle mat was instantly sacred ground and any toy or child not deemed worthy was quickly pushed away from it's sanctuary. Aaron was delighted to obsessively line up his cars for days ---a good break from all the mandatory social interactions that some with family being around.

After some customary Four on a Couch, and some messy candy cane sucking,
it was off to bed (our playroom was wall-to-wall with mattresses!) and Christmas morning sleep in (well for those not busy trying to keep their kids from jumping on all the sleeping relatives!

It was nice having Christmas on a Sunday.  We decided last minute to run out to Raymond where my talented sister-in-law had put together a musical Sacrament meeting. So beautiful. My niece Brittney sang a song, with a ward choir as back-up, dang she's cute.

Speaking of cute little girls...when did my little sisters-in-law turn into grown up beauties???

A little turkey din-din...

Jen and Danny "movin' in" :)

And it's time for the acting out of the nativity.
The bin of costumes was out at my Ben's mom's house, so with a quick rounding up of housecoats, innovative uses of tin foil and a Ewok costume being re-purposed to be the cutest little shepherd boy ever...

...we were ready to ride the donkey to Bethlehem.

This girl was made to play Mary!

 (she totally stayed in character the whole time, so gentle with baby Jesus, gazing at him lovingly)

The shepherd boy thought the gifts were fo him.

And then he crowned himself king.

Always a little chaotic, but worth it every year. We have a tradition on the Bretzke-side to on someones birthday go around the room and have everyone tell us something they love about the birthday person.  Well this year we did a circle for Christ, for His birthday. It was really a nice way to spend Sunday evening reflecting on all the reasons we love the Saviour. 

The front door reminded me just how many people were at my house!

Oh and one Christmas casualty: 

Levi's hand, 

use to playing with my unplugged hot iron, 

had quite the surprise when he tried to pick up one an Aunty had plugged in 

 in the hall, when all the bathrooms were occupied.

He'll live.

He looked like a little boxer, all bandaged up. 

(Between this and his shiner, please don't report us)

Aftermath.

Cute to see the cousins playing together a but more as they get older.

There was a couple times I took a wise friends advice to remember "if you need to, you can leave". I'd throw Levi in the stroller and go for a quick walk around the lake behind our house, just taking a breath or two, because sometimes family just... "takes your breath away" (wink)
You all know what I mean.

There was lots more vegging, a few BBC movies for me and Alli, me and Benny even went ans saw the new Muppets one night after bedtime. 


Around 10 on Thursday, everyone but the two out of town single siblings walked out the door, and by noon I had three out of town couples friends walking in.
We had a nice visit, and I took no pictures (I know, not like me at all! )


Friday we hung out with Alli and Sam, and I decided I was gonna go out and stay at my moms after a temple session. Oh the serenity of that drive all by myself. Lovely.


It was nice to get a little extra time at my moms without the kids. 








I love my moms at Christmas. Nothing like your childhood home to accentuate the magic.

My mom's house IS magical at Christmas. So full of colour and twinkle.  Funny little Santa's, a Christmas village (that would never survive around here) and ornaments that hung on her mom's tree.

Her house is so full of wonderful things, 

like Coo-coo clocks and rotary phones.

Snackies before swimming.

My crafty sisters, super cute finger puppet present.

A few years ago I helped my mom illustrate a family story she wrote up as a children's book...this is the long awaited sequel about the night my brother got a glow in the dark lego stuck up his nose (it's quite the page-turer!)

Oh Kamber, could you be any cuter?

Enjoying a video of how cute Kamber is.

Levi's up there on the cute scales too though.

Taking the balls off grandma's tree

Bowen tradition, the son in laws get Ripley believe it or not books from my mom.

To look at when they weren't helping transform transformers or playing with lego.

I must have been getting tired, or just felt relaxed at my moms house, being a"child" instead of a host, cuz I didn't take as many pictures.  Next year maybe we'll hafta do Bowen's first.


I even forgot to get matchy PJ shots, so we did them after FHE on Monday.

And I do really love this one of my mom's tree-topping angel against her sparkling-spackled ceiling.

I do know that by Monday (after a super fun New Years party with a couple close friends, and too many laughs over a bean-bag joke) I was ready. 

Ready to be me and my boys in our house, just us.

So til next year Mr Claus...

PS I request a whole whack of these in my stocking next year:)