Friday Feature: trip preparation

After months of anticipation, it's almost here - our big summer vacation, our Great Western Adventure Driving Tour. We made plans over Spring Break, finding hotels, reading restaurant reviews, determining the best sights and attractions along the way. The kids have been reading about the states we'll travel through and some relevant history to give them some context for the epic two week tour, and we are finally to single digits in our countdown.

Daddy has been doing a ton of work to bring the details together, too. The last week has been spent in confirming hotels; checking drive times; seeing what other nearby monuments, parks, and opportunities we need to capitalize on for this once-in-a-lifetime trip. In the last couple of days, he's gotten down to the details of the packing list. That's brought a little bit of shopping and a whole lot of staging of gear and equipment to make it the best trip ever:

We start the packing process this weekend for our upcoming departure. I'm so grateful that Daddy takes care of all of the details; he worries about all of the little things to make the big things perfect.

Love is a many splendored thing

Tomorrow is the big day where we all declare our love for the ones who most make our hearts go pitter patter. I will join the ranks of millions of Americans who will give cards, hugs, and kisses to the wonderful man I married and to the two little people who fill my heart.

What struck me today as I thought about Valentine's Day, though, is that I am the recipient of more love than I could possibly return in a lifetime. Love truly is a many splendored thing - Christians know that in the Bible, the English word "love" appears consistently throughout the text, but is translated from more than one Greek word for the sentiment. The love in my life is like that, too. One word could never capture all of the ways I am loved.

I have known my entire life that I am fully, wholly, and unconditionally loved by my two amazing parents. With the lens of now being a parent myself, I look back at my adolescence and wonder at the fact that not only do my parents love me, I think they like me, too. My mom and dad taught me everything I know about loving families, and I love them both more than words can say.

My parents also gave me two of the greatest gifts in my life - my sister and brother. Not everyone is so lucky as me, having siblings who you yearn to spend time with, and if life allowed, you'd move next door to. We certainly had our fair share of sibling fights; we were the world's most normal kids, on each other's last nerves on a regular basis. As adults, though, I've grown to realize that there truly is no love like that of a sister or a brother. It isn't just a greeting on a Hallmark card; they truly know me and my heart better than any friend ever could. They love me in spite of my failings; they love me because of my failings.

Philos - the love from friends. How could I possibly recount all of the ways my friends have picked me up, carried me along, and let me lean on them over the years? The filial love of friends changes over time - in part because some friends come and some friends go. I'm learning, though, that the friends that stick - especially my West Point classmates - that love changes, too. We grow; we mature; we understand that life is not an eternal competition between us. Sadly, for the women of my class, loss has drawn us closer together in the last year. More than ever, this year when I think of the love of friends, I realize there is a deep and abiding love that we are only now beginning to recognize for the source of strength it is.

Closer to home, I rely on the steady, ever-present of the love of my new friends here in Arkansas. They've taught me that the length of time you've been acquainted has nothing to do with the depth or strength of the love they can give. I am so blessed that I have friends here and in the other places I've called home that fill my life with the love only a friend can give.

Then, there's home itself. My two little people, Caroline and John. The innocent love of children, the sheer joy of knowing that they love me not for what I do, whether I'm popular, or how much money I have. They love me because I am their mother. There are a million reasons people can name for why having children is a blessing, but for me, the unconditional love will always be the biggest wonder of motherhood.

My dad told me on my wedding day that no matter how much I thought I loved Justin, it paled in comparison to how much I would love him in the years to come. Almost 13 years later, I truly do understand and agree with him, but realize that surely, that will be more true 13 years from now, and again 13 years after that. My husband, in his quiet, steady way, shows me every day how much he loves me. Sometimes it's obvious in the words he says to me, the kindness he shows me, the things he does for me. Just as often, he loves me by loving our children. When you begin the journey of marriage, you can't possibly fathom the infinite love it will bring.

On the days where I feel buffeted and crushed by the weight of responsibility and expectations every adult feels, I need to reflect on the richness of the love in my life. Tomorrow I'll use words, cards, and small gifts to show my love. I hope every other day of the year, I'll be a reflection of the love others give to me.

Friday Feature: The Volcano

So I mentioned the snow days - and if you live here in Northwest Arkansas you've talked about them ad nauseam for the last week - but if you asked my kids the most fun thing they did during their days off from school, they just might say:

WE BUILT A VOLCANO!!!!

Best dad in the world, I'm tellin' ya....

Step by step, fabric layers and paint

Finished project:

And now, for the grand finale...

You'd think after the official eruption, that would be it... except the next morning, I found a dinosaur march in the living room:

It's the Land Before Time

And to get even more mileage out of it, the volcano made its way to school in both the 1st grade and 3rd grade classroom with baggies of supplies needed to make it erupt all over again.

Love that man of mine who makes snow days so much fun for our kids.

Love letter to my husband

Today was five - count them, five - school snow days in a row, with a homebound weekend thrown in the middle for good measure. The snow didn't fall after mid-afternoon on Friday, but the total inability of the local government to deal with snow and ice in Northwest Arkansas has resulted in roads that resembled skating rinks until the sun mercifully appeared with enough strength to overcome the just-barely-above-freezing temperatures and finally get the roads clear enough that school will be open tomorrow.

Not a moment too soon.

My husband, who has sacrificed so much in support of me, my goals and desires, who is the full time parent to our kids, has to be at his wits' end with our two yay-hoos bouncing off the walls this last week. But you wouldn't know whether he was at his wits' end or not, because in his own patient way, he has managed to keep them occupied without losing his own mind, being cooped up and out of the routine for a full week now.

I thought about that while I was back at work the last three days, how my routine went back to normal after just a couple of days, but he's still waiting for normalcy to return. And he hasn't complained. In fact, he's made the extra effort to find things to keep the kids both entertained and intellectually engaged during the unexpectedly long and drawn-out break from school.

Thursday, the first snow day, he got their worksheets out and got them focused on learning. Friday, he shoveled the driveway and the sidewalk - I think he was the only one in the entire neighborhood - so that we wouldn't be pulling onto a sheet of ice when we finally did get out of the house. Over the weekend, he built Legos and played board games with the kids. Monday, they started a project to build a volcano. Tuesday, he took them to the grocery store, to the movies that afternoon, and finished the volcano so the grand eruption was ready when I got home. Today, he took them out again so that Caroline could buy gifts for a party this Saturday.

I know it was exhausting, boring, and frustrating. But the kids would never know if he felt that way, because he's an even keel, bring-calm-and-order-to-our-house kind of dad. And I so rarely take a moment to tell him how much I appreciate that, how much I need that balance to my whirling dervish approach to so much of life.

It's easy to tell your husband you love him on Valentine's Day, or Thanksgiving, or any other special day. It's easy to bestow words of passion when life is momentous and milestones are being marked.

But this blog is about the things that make up our lives 365 days a year. So Justin, while my words aren't flowery or eloquent, or poetic in any way, I want you to know that I love you for being a great snow-day-dad the last week. You make my life so wonderfully comfortable, even when baby, it's cold outside.

Friday Feature: Daddy's pumpkin artwork

Every year for the last... hmmmm... probably ten years, I've carved our jack o' lanterns. In fact, I can remember sitting on our front step in Maryland the day after my very first marathon, pretty much sore from head to toe, scopping out pumpkin guts and carving a jack o' lantern smile, determined that we would have a sign of the season on our front step.

This year, though, things just worked against me. Work has been crazy busy; the kids' evening activities have been one after the other; and to top it off, Halloween was on a Thursday. With the warm weather back, it wasn't like I could carve the pumpkins over the weekend. I've seen a rotting pumpkin, and if you haven't, trust me - you don't want that on your doorstep. Besides, we were busy all weekend, two full days of activities. So I convinced myself I'd find time to do it on Monday or Tuesday evening, and all would be as usual for the Coussoule Halloween.

Except, of course, that didn't happen. Monday night, I ran out of steam. Tuesday night, I think I ran out of steam again. Wednesday night, we had tennis lessons and went out to dinner afterward.

Daddy to the rescue.

He scooped the guts, let the kids pick out their patterns, and got the job done.

Too bad my photography doesn't do his artwork justice. Still, our pumpkins say just what we wanted them to say. Happy Halloween!

What motivates you?

I run for lots of reasons: fitness, socializing, competitiveness, me-time, to prove I can.

I also run for the bling:

Justin and I made some medal hangers for my growing collection, and I'm pretty excited with how they turned out. I'm not the most creative person in the world, but I hope to earn a few more triathlon medals for this one:

Wonder how long until I need another one? Once I do, any ideas for a witty title for it?