Ohhhhhhhhh Dion!!

So I needed to get a photo of Dion in all her St. Patrick's Day glory. Afterall, it's not easy being a girl - ESPECIALLY the high maintenance girl that she is. So I explain to her that I wanted to get a picture of her to put on Facebook in her green and gold outfit. Okay now in order to prepare yourself for what follows you have to understand a few things about Dion.
First, she is very confident. Now I like to think I've put emphasis on the more important things about who we are besides looks- like being kind, a good example of a Chistian, doing our best, working hard, being smart, making good choices, etc. But I guess because Dion has always been told by a lot of people how "cute" or "pretty" she is she now whole-heartedly stands in that truth. Secondly, she looooves the camera, not just having her picture taken but loves to take pictures as well. But if you need to take a photo, she's the LAST one you'll have to tell to pay attention and smile. If I didn't know better I'd tell you she invented vogueing herself. Infact, from what I understand, she directed our poor family photographer last month on which photos she should take, where she should take then, at what angle, and when she should take them according to the pose Dion was arranging herself in. Third, she's slightly critical of herself at times. This might sound contradictory to number one, but it's not - it provides what little balance there is for her. At the age of 4 she was already having bad hair days. Unfortunately I will take responsibility for that one. I am the first one to complain about my three chins, my bubble butt, my newly developed teenage acne at the age of 30, and anything else that might slightly annoy me. So naturally, being as impressionable as our young are, she has picked up on that. (I would like to have do-overs on that one.) Fourth, she has an INCREDIBLE eye for fashion. And I can say that why you ask? I mean I just finally purged my closets of shirts I had since Shane was little, and he's 13. Well, I knew that when Dion was 3 and came out of her room head to toe in an outfit that looked like Stevie Wonder picked out. She was wearing stripes AND flowers!! And I thought that was no-no numero uno! She had a skirt on... with JEANS under it!! In an effort to be gentle to her three-year-old spirit I said, "Dion, honey, let Mommy help you pick something out." She stopped, looked at me, looked herself up and down from toes to shoulder, looked back at me and said, quite flabergasted, "Why?? This is soooo fashion!". I thought I knew then that I was in trouble. I didn't. I didn't even know the half of it. Even a couple years later when I was getting ready to go to a dinner and came walking down the hall feeling quite snazzy (for those mom's out there I'm sure you can relate. Snazzy = no snot/slober/spitup marks on your black over-sized shirt and out-dated bulky boot-like "heels" instead of the usual sneakers.) Dion, sparing no feelings of mine, QUICKLY INFORMED me she would help ME pick something out. This is Dion. And we love her for it.
Now you are prepared for a play by play of the events as they took place after I told Dion I wanted to take a photo of her earlier tonight.
"Dion, can I take a quick picture of you please for Facebook." (grabbing my phone)
"Okay Mom. Here we go." (positioning herself under the light) "I'm going to make a kissy face and then you can put on the caption, "Kiss me, I'm Irish. Well only a little. hahaha. el oh el el oh el oh (lol lol)" (yes, she even captioned her OWN photo!)

Now before my brain even had TIME to process the photo she was standing next to me pawing at my arm to lower the camera so she could approve it. "Okay no! That's awful. Look at my eyes! They're HUGE! Delete it. Let's go again." positioning herself back under the light. I laughed, told her it was good, then reset for try #2.

Now that photo took me a couple tries cause I could barely hold the camera still after I noticed, in an apparent effort to make her eyes less "huge" ,she was now squinting. She rushed to me hopeful it was a go. "OH ..... MY.... GOSH...!! NO!! DELETE!!" Yes, she is getting exasperated after only TWO photos. She's used to being quite photogenic and not having to try much for a good photo. "RETAKE!!!" This time her walk back to her mark was a bit less enthusiastic. "Okay, I'm not going to blow a kiss now! That's not working!!"

Now mind you I'm in hysterics. We're 5 minutes in to a simple snap shot at this point and she's getting more and more annoyed by the minute. She looks at the camera... "Oh hello little fishy," she says, "What the heck!!" I DIED!! Now in my head, while I was taking the photo, I thought... hmmm, I wonder if I should tell her that she looks like she's making a fishy face instead of a kissy face. Then I thought better of that idea seeing as at this point I just wanted to send a photo, any photo, to Facebook and carry on with my evening.
"Okay! I'm serious now! (like she hadn't been) Go again!"

 Okay, now here's where I have to own my part in this mini drama. This was a good picture. I told her right after I took it, "Oh this one is good!" Her run to me to approve of the picture had diminished to a disgusted saunter. She studied the picture, paused for a second, then said, "Eh, it's oooooookay." Here comes my mistake. I said, "Well you can't really see your hair bow, which is super cute and St. Patricky, but it's still good." Well I should've known that Dion doesn't do "good" pictures. Stomping back to her, at this point, slightly indented spot in the carpet, she sets up for a picture that was sure to fix the lack of bow exposure.

Did I mention in the set up for this story that Dion can sometimes exaggerate things? She is a mini-extremist of sorts. She was the one who, when she had her lisp, was either "starbing" or "not starbing". At this point I'm in tears. Although she isn't finding this seemingly insurmountable task amusing in the least, I am busting a gut!! Which only made her more determined to get an "postable photo". "Okay, Dion. I get your drift (another blog in and of itself!)."

Notice in this last photo the small poof in her right belly region, where her pocket is. Dion put's her hand sideways over her forehead, "WHO needs this picture up there? Cause that one looks like I have a big ol' fat pooch right there!" pointing at the marshmellowy looking puff. "It does not!!" I reassured her. "LAST TIME!!" she growled.

Well, when all was said and done she went back to photo #4.  lol.

I'm taking donations now for her therapy fund.

Maybe I'm doing something right?

Sometimes, oftentimes, I sit and wonder... wonder how I got so blessed, and even moreso why? Every night I lay in bed and think about the things I wish I would've done differently throughout the day. After I'm done feeling guilty I prioritize the things I'm going to work on doing better the next day and brainstorm ways in which I could accomplish that. And without fail, every night, being a better mother is on that list... at the top... every night. I have AMAZING kids. It's that plain and simple. And I guess everyone thinks that? There must be some sort of ingredient God included in us when he designed us to be partial to our own children. But I can't help but to think sometimes that I'm extra blessed with really awesome kids. And one thing that would make me a better mother is to tell them that. It seems simple enough, right? But I find myself telling myself that EVERY NIGHT. I've tried to figure out why that is. Why it's not till 11 o'clock at night when I go to get a cup out of the cupboard that I've noticed Savannah unloaded and loaded the dishwasher earlier in the day all by herself without me asking? Why it's the next day, when the kids are at school, when I open the blinds to the patio, that I noticed Shane took the trash bag that I had set outside down to the trash bin without me asking? How everyday I walk by Lacey's room and look in to see everything neatly in it's place and the only time I say something to her about it is when I'm reminding her she's left something out? Why does it take Dion spiraling into an emotional breakdown because her morning isn't going as planned for me to hear her tell me her plans included taking care of the babies so I could sleep in and then rubbing my feet and making me breakfast? Ugh. It brings me to tears just typing those last four sentences. This all occurred to me, again, as it often does, last week on report card day when I picked the kids up from school.

The younger two girls got picked up first and handed me their envelopes:

Dion - 1st Grade -

She received a Perfect Attendance Award and scored all 4's (Proficient or Advanced) and all O's (outstanding) on her report card.
"There have been 57 homework assignments. Your child has turned in 57 of them. That
is 100% which is a/an A+."
"I have assigned 1160 minutes of reading. Your child has turned in 1388 minutes. That is 100+% which is a/an A+."
"Dion is doing well in all areas. She is well liked, a good leader, and well behaved in class. Good job on turning in the home reading this semester. She turned in over 100%. Thank you. Dion has met all of the reading goals and many of the math goals for first grade. She now needs to concentrate on writing. I would love to see her using more descriptive words and more complex sentences in her writing."

Savannah - 3rd Grade -

She received a Perfect Attendance Award (with one excused absence) and all 4's and O's on her report card.
"Savannah continues to be an outstanding student. She has been helpful to me in many ways. She is a fine student and assumes responsibility well. She enjoys helping others, which has put her into a leader's role in class."

I told them how proud I was of them. It was brief and not nearly at the level of excitement that it rightly deserved. Then I picked up Lacey.

Lacey - 5th Grade -

She received a Perfect Attendance Award and not only did she get a 4.0 but she got A+'s with all O's in Attitudes and Work Habits and all 4's in State Standards.
"Lacey Mae's GPA is very easy to figure out - 4.0!! Very good - Outstanding! Lacey Mae is a joy to teach!"

The ah-ha moment that led me to this post was what followed. Lacey was in the third row, beaming as I read it - as she deserved to be, and when I finished I turned, looked back at her, and holding my hand up said, "Awesome! Good job, Lace!". She looked at my hand, looked at me, then as if out of pity slowly reached up and slapped my open hand with hers and said, gently, "Mom, high five's are so last year. It's knuckles now."

Now had I praised them more often surely I would have known to offer her my closed fist instead of a my open palm. From now on I will not be so "old skool". I will offer praise more often so that next report card, I will not inappropiately offer knuckles when it's surely changed to something more cool.

So learn from my failure and praise someone today- whether it's your kids, your significant other, or a stranger. Just tell someone, "Good job!", and offer them your knuckles. :)


p.s.~ Shane is beyond amazing too... I just haven't gotten his report card in the mail yet. And Abigail? Well... just look at her pictures! lol. There really are no words for her.