“Miss Katie!!!! I missed you!!!” sounded better to me than any music ever had. After nearly two weeks away I had the great joy of coming home to two of the most amazing people on earth, my boys. I’m sure after reading that most people immediately think “Miss Katie”??? Her kids call her “Miss Katie”??? Huh? If you did - don’t be alarmed, many are confused at first. I’ll try to clarify – my name is Katie and I am an “extra-mom”.



I’m sure that there are many out there like me. You may be introduced as stepmother, aunt, by your first name, or even just called mom. Regardless of the title, it means that you, like me, married not just a partner but also a family. If so, congratulations!!! Personally, I know that it’s the greatest accomplishment of my life and one that I never anticipated. Growing up I was certain of two things: 1) I was going to have a career and 2) I was not going to have children. Funny how life takes those certainties and upends them for you? Admittedly, I do have a career but I also have two great kids that happened to join my life when I married my personal Prince Charming (which I also didn’t believe in FYI, but what’s a girl to do when she finds one?) This is the story of the start of my journey towards becoming an “extra-mom”.



“Nice to meet you” I remember practicing into the mirror. Trying to smile as I rehearsed sticking out my hand and pumping it up and down in a pretend handshake. I remember scolding myself for the absurdity of that formal of a gesture. I agonized over my tone and cadence - tried variations of my name – “Kate, Katie, crazy person talking to herself in a mirror”. I smiled bigger and then smaller, tested the impact of “Hi” versus “Hello”. Looking back I can say that was probably the low-point of my sanity, but at the time it felt as if it was the most important meeting of my life. You see I’m a big believer in first impressions and I knew that this was a vital one. From all the fuss you might have thought I was meeting a Fortune 500 CEO or the President, but no I was meeting two boys that were only three and a half years old. Yes, my name is Katie and I was terrified of two toddlers! In my defense they were and still are the two most important boys in my world – they are my sons. Technically, they are my stepsons, but legalities aside they are my kids, and I’m sure that they would be very embarrassed to know that I had to rehearse (a lot) before I felt confident enough to meet them for the first time.

     In my youth I couldn't have imagined the twists and turns, lumps, bumps, and seeds I would encounter through the years. In fact, I'm sure I never gave any thought to what I might be confronted with along my way. Its probably a good thing too, because if I had known some of the experiences I would walk through, I would have said, "No, thank you". But the older I get, the more I realize those experiences I would have refused are the very ones which produced the most growth, and ultimately the most beauty in my life.



     One unexpected experience was the birth of my son, Noah, who has Down Syndrome. Up to the time of Noah's birth, I had no experience or familiarity with Trisomy 21. This was a good thing for me, because I had no expectations or knowledge of worrisome details. I began to learn about Down Syndrome as I fell in love with my beautiful baby boy. I took things in stride without any anxiety about what might or might not happen in his life.....it didn't occur to me that I should have any concerns about what life might look like for him, me, or his siblings. We all accepted Noah just as he presented himself to us... and we continue to do so today. This was all good.



     However, as Noah began to get a little older, the reality of challenges presented by his disability became more apparent. Learning has been difficult for a variety of reasons. Good educational programs have been few and far between... this has been a true heartache for me. Self-care is an ongoing challenge, even though Noah has some skills in this area. And now, at 19 years of age, Noah is out of school and participating in a transition program... but its very unclear what we are transitioning to, or how well prepared he will be for life beyond school. This brief menu of issues are all things to which I would have said, "No, thank you".



        No parent would choose to have a child with a disability. And noone would fault a parent for admitting that they are struggling, and often wishing their child didn't have such challenges.... life is tough enough when all is well, even tougher to face when little things require supreme effort. But I have found my life to be enriched because of the efforts involved in raising Noah. I work in the field of Early Childhood Special Education because of Noah... I am able to positively impact parents of children with special needs because of Noah.... my other 7 children are compassionate and sensitive to others with challenges because of Noah... I have a great catalog of funny stories because of Noah.... I get a kick out of really quirky stuff because of Noah..... I am a better person because of Noah.



      I believe some of my most powerful growth has come as a result of raising Noah. And I am certain I would have said "No, thank you", if the challenges had been laid out before me. In fact, I know myself well enough to say I would not ever choose the more difficult path if given the choice. I am happy to report I have learned the value of struggle, hardship, and disappointment. I might not always smile the whole way, but I have learned to appreciate how the tough stuff paves the way for joy, growth, and beauty.



     Struggle can serve to bring out the best in us.... enlarge our hearts.... strengthen our spirits.... embolden our self-confidence. So when faced with something hard and you want to say, "No, thank you", just remember you might be getting an opportunity of a lifetime that you don't want to miss. Then smile to yourself.

 I have to be firm. I cannot budge… And then my 2 yr old daughter wanders out of bed wearing her patent leather shoes. For the third time, I remove them, hide them under the bed, and tuck her in. But this time I take a picture because it’s just too cute and I know I will want to remember this moment forever…



I have to be consistent. I cannot give in… They need to sleep in their own beds. But then the little shadow darkens my doorway at night and a little voice says, “Can I sweep with you, Mama. I hab bad dweam.” And even though I’ve been sleep deprived for five years, I pull the little shadow into bed with me to snuggle and squeeze her tight. I will remember this moment forever…



I am tired. Dinner is almost burnt… She’s 5 years old and she’s been afraid of everything since she was born. But even though I’m tired of the whining, and I already did it once before, when she appears in her bathing suit and goulashes and asks me one more time to make sure there are no bugs outside, I go. I go because I remember what it’s like to have irrational fears and I was never so smart to think to just put on my “goulashes”. There’s no way I could forget this moment…



 I clean. I teach. Over and over… I’ve reminded her several times to use her fork when she eats, and yet here she is facedown in a bowl of rice. When I reprimand her, she lifts her head from her food, covered in rice from her eyebrows to her ears, and says, “Sawy mama…” And I realize that a fork is not the best way for a 2yr old to eat rice and that she was actually using her little brain. I smile with pride, wishing I had a camera to capture this moment forever…



     I am a parent... I need them to listen… They’ve interrupted Daddy and I too many times. We need to talk. And then one of them starts crying because she wants a family marching band… and suddenly a hero appears. Even though they should listen, and even though our conversation is important, the hero sees something else; an opportunity he doesn’t want to miss. Daddy hurries for his guitar and begins to march through the kitchen as the two little ones fall into line. And I smile because I cannot remember what we were talking about that was so “important”. And I take a picture. This moment MUST be remembered forever…



I’ve worked a twelve- hour day and it’s not over yet… I’m trying to get through the bedtime quickly because I’m already yawning. I am firm and only read one story, like I said I would. No more, no less. One song. One prayer… And then they ask if they can pray. Their sweet little heads bowed, their tiny hands folded beneathclosed eyes, and I realize that the kingdom of heaven is present right before me. That everything I am working for is already happening. And I pray to God that this moment lasts forever…



     Nothing else matters. How lovely are those piles of laundry scattered all over my house. How lovely are the paint stains and crayon marks on my granite countertops. How lovely are those fingerprints that decorate my “clean” windows. How lovely are those voices that call to me for the hundredth time from their room even though they are supposed to be sleeping, “Mama! We need you!”







Katie... married her college sweetheart, and together they continue in youth ministry. They are finally living their dreams of he being a youth pastor and and her, a worship leader; however, the best part of her life is being a wife to her man and a mommy to her daughters. She can honestly say with all certainty that the melody of her life is that of God's unfathomable love and never-changing faithfulness.

My dream as a child was to travel the world, possibly join the Peace Corp, and ultimately write for National Geographic. It definitely wasn’t to chase kids around all day, changing diapers, doing dishes, cleaning up dog vomit and then the laundry…how the hell is there so much laundry in this house? I wear the same jeans three days in a row, hey don’t judge, they fit the best after day two, I would go four, but with my kids, there could be any number of things stuck to them, so even three days is pushing it, anyhow where was I?



Oh yeah, okay so my dream…right, I always wanted to be a mom, I just didn’t realize how much work it is to be a parent! I kinda thought that being a parent would be easy and fun. I thought that babies were so precious and slept “like babies” (who ever thought of that saying, obviously never had children). I thought it would be like the commercials, or the movies. Oh cute baby, magically turns into cute toddler, yes there are terrible twos, but everyone laughs about those, and then they become little kids who you can explore with and have fun with and play board games with, then the teenage years, coming of age, high school football games, first loves, chasing boyfriends out of bedroom windows, then college, then weddings, then magically I would be old and have my whole family, four children, my wonderful husband, the great grandparents all sitting around the Thanksgiving table, smiling in awe as I (who am in this vision, amazingly beautiful BTW) bring out an enormous turkey and set it down on our lavishly long table.





The reality is kinda depressing, so I won’t go into it too much. Wait that can’t be right? It isn’t depressing it’s just… work. None of it is easy. Being woken up every two hours by a newborn is enough to make even the strongest men and women cry. Potty training a toddler, or trying not to KILL everyone who gives you parenting advice, that you NEVER ask for - is work. Just the day to day, waking, diaper, breakfast, cleaning hands, faces, tables, feet (really how did you get that on your foot??), play time, monitoring while trying to get any amount of housework done, trying to be successful as something other than a mother (yeah good luck), ending fights, cleaning spills, more diapers, more meals, more laundry, putting on a smile when the husband gets home… it goes on and on, and only a parent can truly understand. Only someone who has been in those dark moments in the middle of the night, while a colicky baby screams for hours and hours and there is nothing you can do to stop it will understand what I mean by… how did I get here?



Maybe it’s just that no one really sees the efforts of a parent until those efforts are not there. Think about it, who are the families on the news? Who make the headlines? It’s always when something goes wrong. For the rest of the parents out there, there is no pat on the back, no one really says, “hey you’re doing a really good job.” It’s only when we aren’t doing our jobs that people notice. Think about it, when you see a child misbehaving in a store, or a child who desperately needs a bath…do we ever really pay attention when the mom with the clean, cute well behaved kids, comes through the door?



It reminds me of a story I heard once, it was about this little town and the one water source in the town was a stream. At the source of the water was a man who maintained the stream, he cleaned it, made sure there were no impurities, he took care of it for everyone. However, one year a new mayor was elected and he decided that paying this man to maintain the stream was ridiculous. So he cut the job, because really how hard is it for a stream to stay clean? Well within a few months people began getting sick, the water became cloudy, it smelled and was undrinkable, no one really understood what had happened, except the one man who once was the keeper of the stream. He was unappreciated, no one knew what he did, when his job was on the line, people criticized him for how much he had been paid for “doing nothing.” And now they all paid the price for not understanding and not valuing his work.





So no, this wasn’t my dream. Are you kidding, I just mowed all the weeds around our house for the last 2 hours, to get a BREAK! But this is my job, raising kids, taking care of the house, instilling values, making sure the clothes are clean and that everyone is eating enough vegetables. Yup that’s my job. It’s not glamorous (I just had a talk with my five year old about where we put our boogers). But it’s my job.



I am a writer, but first and foremost I am a mom, whether that works with my deadlines or not (usually not). I try to be a good wife, a good friend, a good daughter, a good member of society, a good pet owner…uhg so many responsibilities…but I have to remember that no matter what, right now, being a parent is my number one job. If I don’t do that then everything around me will fall apart too. I am responsible for the outcome of two little girls. Will they be successful adults, will they want to be smart and become contributing members of society? That is my job, and no one around me may understand the value of it, but I have to remember the value, because as soon as I forget, I can guarantee that all those people who didn’t see “what the big deal was” will be complaining about how my horrible parenting is! And then I’ll be blamed for the community falling apart. Okay so they might not be saying that, but it sure does feel like it when someone criticizes how you parent - doesn’t it.



We are all “the keeper of the stream.” It’s true, my kids…your kids…are the water, the lifeline, the future - of our communities. Raising them well, is something to be proud of. So no matter how much those long, never ending nights last, no matter how many diapers, or how many loads of laundry, I’ll try to remember that I’m making a difference. No one may ever say “thank you” for all of my hard work, in fact they probably won’t, and that’s why it’s even more important that I know I’m making a difference.



You are too by the way...has anyone told you today that you’re making a difference in the future of our society? Has anyone told you that you have a purpose? No?





Well you are. So thank you for changing the diapers, and cleaning the sink. Thank you for reading to your kids, thank you for kissing them goodnight…thank you for doing the hardest job you’ll ever love, wait that’s the Peace Corp – and I hear they let you sleep in the Peace Corp… SEE being a parent is even harder, and one day if you don’t already, you will love it.







Shauna... is a stay at home mom of two girls, she's the author of the "Waypoint" book series, and her personal blog"Breathe, Smile, Pray...Repeat." Her girls keep her on her toes, and have been the inspiration for many blog posts, here and on BSPR. She's just an ordinary mom trying to master the most natural job in the world.

Check out Shauna' sites:

www.waypointbookseries.com

www.breathesmileprayrepeat.blogspot.com

{Even Drying Towels Can Be Cute With A Simple DIY}

I found this hook plaque in an antique store and paid way to much for it, but i wanted to copy it and make some of my own!! (is that bad?) I knew these would be perfect to hang out on the back patio to dry my kids towels! I hate when I find them in wet wadded up balls on the floor after they have been running in the sprinkler!! So this is a cute way to let them air dry outside!



{Materials}

1 piece of pine from lowes or a discount store like your local builders bargain center about 3 ft long or

Jami... is a mom to teenaged quadruplets and wife to her best friend, her knight in dented armor. Her "almost 15" year old crew consists of one girly tomboy and 3 strapping young men, one who was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome in 7th grade. With kids now in high school [the same school she and her hubby shared a locker in!], keeping up with everyone keeps her busy as a stay at home mom. Being "on call" for the lanky, bright, and fiesty son has kept her from rejoining the paid work force as of yet. Her passion for God/teens/sports is a perfect combination for her position as a Fellowship of Christian Athletes weekly Huddle Leader.

{By Guest Contributor: Kriste Colley-Valdez}

As a life coach, one of the things I do is help my clients incorporate stress management techniques into their daily lives. After all, stress continues to be a contributor to weight gain, heart disease, insomnia, and dissatisfaction.



However, I can’t help but notice that many of the commonly accepted techniques are almost impossible for a busy mom to practice on a daily basis. Sure, we can squeeze them in from time to time, but you can’t exactly tell the colicky baby, “Ok, well, it’s 2:00 pm and you know that it’s time for my weekly massage! See you in a few hours!” Face it; there are times when our own needs get pushed to the bottom of the list.



Some examples of traditional stress management techniques are massage, taking a few hours for yourself, talking on the phone with a friend, exercise, doing a hobby or activity that you love, a night out, meditation and mindfulness. Yes, it’s a great idea to be mindful, and we SHOULD be. But…it’s tough to rejoice in being present when you are cleaning up spit-up. [Editor's Note: I would like to add snot, pee, puke and UBS (unidentifiable brown stuff) to the list... carry on:)]



As for massage…does it count when my two –year-old runs his race car up and down my back?



How about an actual stress reliever that will not only help you relax, but makes an incredible gift for other half-crazed goddesses in your lives?



Get a jar with a lid. Heck with a nice jar. Use that old cottage cheese container that’s in your bottom drawer.



Buy a 99 cent pack of gummy bears. (This is a crucial step. Gummy worms will not work. They must be bears.)



Empty bears into jar.



Here’s the fun part ;)...



Assign each color of bear the name of a person who has been annoying/irking/angering you or just trying your patience.

{By Guest Contributor: Laura Moriarity}

It was a hot, dusty Southern Oregon morning in 1988. My mom had signed me up to run in the” Mini Marathon” at Sam’s Valley Elementary School. There I was, a chubby 4th grader standing on the starting line of some great idea from the mom with the fit kids at a PTA meeting. As I stood there a sense of absolute dread came over me. I panicked. What was I doing? Am I supposed to run up THAT HILL? Then all of a sudden some crazy parent in short-shorts, Asics and a sweatband yelled “GO”! Everyone started sprinting like there were puppies and unicorns on the other side of the hill of death, so stupidly I started sprinting too. After about 2 minutes I thought my lungs were literally on fire and going to explode. To make matters worse (like there is something worse than your lungs exploding) I was certain I was about to puke for the second time ever in public (yes it was that dramatic, and puking in public IS worse than your lungs exploding when you are 9). I was traumatized. The next year I volunteered at the doughnut table and took home the free t-shirt.

This is how mama rolls!

So how did that traumatized 4th grader go from the “Mini Marathon” nightmare to not only choosing to, but spending hours raising money and training for a 26.2 mile real marathon? (By the way, my fantasy of appearing on the cover of Runner’s World Magazine as my hot skinny butt crossed the finish line in record time did not come true- the reality was I ran the last 3 miles with a migraine, I think I was crying when I got there, and my 10 pound heavier butt ran straight for my mom. Oh, and my time was slower than Oprah’s). But here is the thing, outside of childbirth I have never felt more accomplished or AMAZED at what my body could do than I did that day.



I am not sure how I got there really. It would be great to be able to insert some movie montage set to “Eye of the Tiger” here to motivate you all, but really I think I just decided one day that I was too poor for a gym membership, I felt too chubs to work out at one anyway, AND if I was going to puke I would rather do it outside. I knew I was 20 pounds overweight and all of my quick fixes did NOT work. I knew I had to get up off my butt and DO something.



The good news is I have grown to love it. Now instead of viewing running as a horrible lung bursting puke-fest (although it is that sometimes) I see it as affordable therapy. Challenging myself to enter races (no matter if it is a 5K or a full marathon) has transformed the way I think about weight and about my body. I find when I am training for a race I do not obsess over the number on the scale, instead I think about how many miles I was able to run while pushing 60 pounds of stroller, children, stuffed animals, blankies and snacks. I thank God for my body when I cross the finish line. I smile like a crazy person when I am passed by 70 year old ladies during a race because it gives me a crazy sense of hope. I don’t care if I am fast, I don’t care if I win anything, I just LOVE that I can survive it. Experiencing that split moment of absolute amazement at my imperfect but ABLE body is something I need as a women. So with that, just try it. Who knows, you may actually like itJ to help you get going here are my “10 running tips from an unlikely runner”

My 2 year old daughter running the last 1/2 mile with me!

1. {Run for a cause} For my marathon I raised $2,500 for the Leukemia Lymphoma Society through Team In Training www.teamintraining.com. On those days I would have rather died than put on my running shoes I remembered that the people I was running for may never get the opportunity to do what I was doing so suck it up! Many races give the proceeds to foundations or agencies- pick one and put it in perspective!


2. {Brag about it!} post it on Facebook, tell your friends, milk every sore muscle and every ½ mile you possibly can-it helps with accountability!


3. {Download a training program} I like Hal Higdon’s as the schedules are realistic to incorporate in my crazy life. http://www.halhigdon.com


4. {Listen} to your body


5. {Get} a good pair of shoes


6. {Eat}


7. {Do it with and for your kids} Check out the picture of my 2 year old running the last half mile with me...


8. {Get an App} Like Runtastic or the one from Nike to track your calories, distance and progress


9. {Get a running partner} or join a running group (or start your own.)


10. {Sign Up}To really bring this thing full circle you can always sign your kids up for the Mini Marathon  http://kohd.com/news/local/193513

By Guest Contributor {Emilie Sampson}

Almost six years ago, I gave birth to this perfect little monkey named Parker. He was my third baby and I had breastfed the other two with little to no issues. From day 1 Parker spit up. And not the typical small amount of baby spit up…like disgusting man-barf from this tiny, perfect bald baby. The doctor did MANY tests and no matter what medicines we tried…Parker still spit up. A friend of mine suggested that it could be something in my breast milk, so I decided to try cutting food out of my diet. I tried dairy first and it was an IMMEDIATE change. He stopped spitting up completely! As long as I did not consume the SMALLEST amounts of dairy (not even cream in my coffee), everything was golden….until Parker started eating solid food. As we began to add food to his diet (still eliminating all dairy), Parker began to get sick. He was losing weight by the week, and the doctors were concerned. We saw specialists and had a MULTITUDE of tests done, and eventually one gave us the answer. Parker had Celiac Disease. Celiac disease is a condition that damages the lining of the small intestine and prevents it from absorbing parts of food that are important for staying healthy. The damage is due to a reaction to eating gluten, which is found in wheat, barley, and rye. Switching to a gluten free (as well as dairy free) diet was a huge adjustment, but we saw the benefits immediately! After months of losing weight, as soon as we took Parker off all gluten, he gained 10 oz in one week!!



As I entered this world of food allergies, I had to learn how to read labels and how to find out what is REALLY in the food we eat! And the more people I opened up to about this, the more people I found that also deal with food allergies and food intolerance.



How many of us deal with daily ailments that could possibly be attributed to the food that we consume? Chronic headaches, stomachaches, rashes, irritability, insomnia, trouble focusing can all be signs of food allergies! Now, I am no medical professional (Seriously, guys…I’m not a doctor. Take their word for it, not mine), but I often wonder how many things we choose to medicate for that could be cured by a simple change in our diet.