Flashlight Tag, Twizzlers, Ice Skating, and Algebra.

   I can remember when I was six.  I can remember Wednesday nights with Dad.  I would wait in anticipation all week for our night together.  Those were the nights that Mom and the two older siblings were at church; leaving Dad and I home to share adventures.  I can recall picking out cookie recipes and hauling games up from the basement; only to stack them in a pile on the family room floor.  We would clean the dinner dishes and begin baking.  We both rushed to the pantry grabbing the many ingredients.  Butter and sugar were creamed and the flour was sifted. 


   After several hours of sticky fingers, flour-ly floors, dirty measuring cups, sour mouth after realizing baking soda did NOT taste like soda, scattered chocolate chips on the counter, and dishes piling in the sink, we patiently waited as the smell of homemade chocolate chip cookies rose from the hot oven.  Those nine minutes seemed like eternity to me.  I sat on the stool; feet dangling, just waiting. We cleaned the kitchen until it was spotless. Dimming the lights in the kitchen, but leaving the oven light on, we pulled out the first game from the pile on the floor. Most likely it consisted of Candy Land, or Shoots and Ladders.  Then finally, the timer would ring. Running to shut it off, we peered into the glowing oven.  Yum. We stood there together and looked at the steaming hot cookies.  Chocolate drooled out of the cookies and our mouth watered.  Not wanting to spend the rest of the night with burnt tongues, we would decide to let the cookies cool. So we grabbed our shoes, jackets and flashlight and headed outdoors.  It was my favorite time of the evening; flashlight tag.  
   The summer breeze blew through my hair as we raced to the park.  Up and down the slides, back and forth on the monkey bars, flashlights glowing, panting, giggling, and riding on Dad's shoulders; we played tag until our hearts content. Then happy and content, we would walk back home; stopping to catch every firefly we caught a glimpse of.  Back home after changing into our pajamas, we would enjoy game number two, a tall glass of milk and a warm cookie. We would sit together and reminisce of the fun evening we had. Minutes later, the rest of the family would return home.  We would bombard them with stories of our evenings as they tasted a few of our fresh homemade cookies. Happily sighing, we would smile at each other and begin thinking of a new recipe for next Wednesday.

   Those were happy days in my six year old mind. And as I look back on it now, I cherish those memories. I am thankful for the moments I have with Dad.  I love hearing his deep voice close in prayer after family Bible study.  I like when I can ask him any question after reading the Bible and he knows the answer within a few minutes.  I like how he is strong and can lift pretty much anything. Just standing behind me, he makes me feel protected and safe.  I love how I can still crawl up in His lap and sit; even though I'm not six anymore.  I love holding his Bible, and looking at all the highlighted verses and pencil markings running down the pages; I feel so blessed to have been taught all the knowledge that he learned throughout the years of his life.  I like the grey hairs in his head and mustache. I love how he knows relationships, and who is best for me or who's not. I trust him with my future husband, sometimes I say, "Dad, find me a good one, you know my type."


   I like how he lies in the hammock after a long day at work; shoes and socks off and farmer's tan showing.  I like how he loves Twizzlers and licorice; potatoes and steak for dinner and coffee in the morning.  He is the best baseball player I know; he can hit as many home runs as we want and be pitcher for hours at a time.  He loves swimming just as much as I do, and board games too.  He wins at almost every game we play, but I love how he lets us win sometimes. :) I can remember wintertime and driving by the pond everyday waiting for the water to freeze. I remember being the first ones on the pond so many years ago to ice skate; and the time we went sledding and almost slid into the river!  He has a great sense of direction, we never get lost; I always miss him when I take a wrong turn. :P I love his jeep, and the patience he had with me while he taught me how to drive a stick. I love what a leader he is to our family and the love he shows to Mom. I love his garden, and how neat and organized it looks. Sweat drips down his face as he returns from weeding it on hot, sticky summer days. In his arms are fresh vegetables and I look up to see his proud smile as he hands them to me to wash for dinner. 


   When I was in school, he was the principle and math teacher. He got me through Algebra. :) He can solve any problem, and he knows just what to do when I have problems in life. I am thankful to God for blessing me with such a Dad.  I love him. :) Thank you Dad for being patient with me and teaching me every piece of wisdom you've learned. Thank you for loving me and caring for me, even when I'm not so pleasant. Oh to the happy days we have had, and more to come. :) 

   Stealing a quote from a friend on Sunday, "A father is someone who carries pictures in his wallet where his money used to be."-Unknown author. 

   Malachi 4:6 “He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers; or else I will come and strike the land with a curse.” Thankful for the vision my Dad has to lead us and be a prophet, priest and provider; thankful for his multigenerational vision, and his desire to seek the Lord. 

Happy Father's Day Dad!

To many more days of baking cookies.  (: 

New York, New York.

We rolled down our windows and let the soft summer breeze flow through the stuffy car.  We had been driving a total of thirteen hours and twenty minutes.  It was an early morning for Adam and me. The plan was to leave at 5:00 in the a.m., but last minute packing from the night before kept us in the bed. After putting the final suitcases in the car, grabbing a lunch for later, and hugging Dad one last time, we pulled out of the driveway at exactly 6:00 a.m., officially following step one of the Mapquest directions. Finally we were off for adventure! 

Thirteen and a half hours later, we were in New Jersey, sitting in traffic.  We made great time, despite the rain, with only a few stops in-between. The Sun was hiding behind the grey clouds as the New York skyline came into view. 

Excitement streamed through us as we sat up and leaned our heads out the window, savoring the fresh air. Through the Lincoln Tunnel and over the Brooklyn Bridge we drove.  Aching to stretch our legs, we pulled over and parked next to a pier off the Bay.  Everything was peaceful as we sat admiring the view.  I took in the feeling of being in another state. Even though I was anxious, I didn't mind sitting and relaxing.  I thought I would burst with excitement. We were in New York. We had so much ahead of us; so many things to see, so many things to do.  

After stopping at the cutest mini grocery store and buying lunch supplies, trying to figure out how to get across the Brooklyn Bridge again, driving straight through Times Square, and catching our breath at the sight of all the lights, we made it safely to the hotel and awaited the arrival of the rest of our party. My sister, brother-in-law and baby nephew's plane would arrive shortly.

 Saturday and Sunday, oh the adventure begins! My first Subway experience of the trip was a bit confusing. First thing about the Subways in New York City; know where you want to go, understand how to get there, and know when to get off.  Second, do not stand in the way of the doors; they will close even if there are people standing in the way. And third, Subway's are not stroller friendly. Let's just say, all weekend we were carrying the stroller up and down flights and flights of stairs. Exhausting? Yes.  It took a couple times, but by the end of the trip we were mastering the art of the Subway. 

My sister and I spent Saturday and Sunday in Times Square, waiting for the boys to finish work.  There were so many sights and sounds. I wanted to look everywhere and be everywhere at once. We took my nephew in the toy stores; his little head turned from one sight to the next.  His eyes were filled with wonder.  He cooed and laughed as we used him for props in all our pictures.  Toy's R Us happens to be the busiest toy store of them all; something about the Angry Birds, Captain America, and Willy Wonka candy drew us inside for a bit. 

Exhausted from the day, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow each night. Mornings were my favorite. My nephew would come and crawl up on me, softly and quietly as I slept in.  He reached out his little hand and would pet my face until I awoke and smiled at him.  He would giggle as I kissed him, and I would cuddle with him just a few minutes longer.  He is so adorable. My heart would melt each time he looked at me. 

Sunday night, we all laid in bed, planning on what to do the next day. So excited and super tired, we wound up slap happy; laughing and sharing thoughts.  My sister, against my wishes, decided to share with the boys my thoughtless moment.  Monday afternoon when we returned to the hotel, I had washed my hands in the sink.  "Hm," I thought, "this is nice hand soap; reminds me of home!" I walked over to where my sister sat with the baby and asked, 

  "Where did you get this hand soap?" She looked at me as if I was growing another head. 

  "What hand soap?" 

  "Oh you know the one by the sink. It smells really nice!" She handed me the baby, and walked over to the sink. 

  "Um, Kelle," she called back, half laughing, "This is hair gel!" 

  "Ah!" I let out and quickly ran to wash my hands again. The boys howled in laughter as I tried to make an excuse for my thoughtlessness. But it was too late, the story was out, the laughs were exploding, and I found nothing else better to do than to laugh with them. 

     Monday; let the sightseeing begin! Walking, walking, and more walking.  We visited the Apple store, the Plaza hotel, and the Converse store.  Then that afternoon, we reserved passes to the September 11 Memorial.  Standing in line, we watched the construction of the Freedom Tower.  Through security we went; checking bags, loads of security guards, and beeping metal detectors. We finally made our way outside to the memorial.  It was beautiful; not just the surroundings, but the moment as well.  It was a moment that can't really be described.  Silence flowed all around us, yet there were so many people. I placed my hands on the engraved names of those who died.  So many people, my heart cried out to all their families.  I stood where the towers used to stand tall, and closed my eyes. I whispered prayers to all those family members who lost loved ones that day so many years ago.  Such a sad moment it was.  But to stand there at ground zero and at the same time look up to see the Freedom Tower, sent shivers up my spine.

By the time I blinked, it was already Tuesday; Central Park, Wall Street, Grand Central Station, Lego store, Rockefeller Center, and Trinity Church. We also visited St. Joseph's Cathedral. Adam and I sat inside. I looked up at the carvings on the ceiling so detailed, and the beautiful stain glass windows. I don't know how anything could be so beautiful.  We sat there long, soaking it all in; I didn't want that moment to pass.  

Tuesday evening came all too fast, and we bid our Sister, Brother-in-Law, and Nephew goodbye.  We would see them the next day, but for some reason it wouldn't be the same. Driving home, Adam and I sat silently as we both reminisced of the happy days we had; reliving each moment in our thoughts. Finally, as the skyline passed by our window one last time, we both sighed and looked at each other. It was bittersweet.  Yes, we were excited to go home, but it felt like we were also leaving behind some of the greatest memories. The time went by too quickly; even though it felt like three weeks since we left home. I took so many pictures all week, wishing I could capture all of New York and take it home with me. I was thankful for what I had; the pictures, the souvenirs, the laughs, the jokes, the times we dedicated in prayer, the sibling bonds, the Nephew, the sights, the smell of cologne on Wall Street, the people, the crowds, dressed up for Broadway, Obama? “Heere at the Wall”, Wall Street and Broadway, driving, uncooked chicken wrap (blah), deciding that street vendors are not my favorite, the skyline, the lights, the city that never sleeps, Disney Store hours; 10am-1am, taking the last Subway ride, 87^th street Columbus Circle, waving “goodbye” to New York as we drive home, driving shifts; Adam -6pm to3am. Me-3am to 7am, arriving at home, and sleeping in my own bed.  Oh how I wish I could go back.  Thanking God for His provision in providing us with a means to go, and protecting us while on the road.  Be thankful for the moments we have with each other as siblings and the memories that we make. They will last a lifetime.  

Children of the same family, the same blood, with the same first associations and habits, have some means of enjoyment in their power, which no subsequent connections can supply...  ~Jane Austen, Mansfield Park, 1814

...As for the pictures, if you would like to see more [because I did take way more!] message me. :)