Those three words are beginning to be my life’s slogan. It has been a roller-coaster year thus far. Starting 08 with a nasty infection and being bound to machines and PICC lines doesn’t give you a great outlook. But then I switched jobs at work to something I love and that is more manageable for me. Then, we bought a nice house and we sold our old house. We celebrated our son’s 6th birthday with family and friends, and I was here to enjoy it. There is a lot to say about health and happiness. It certainly cannot be bought.

I was not particularly excited about my approaching 31st birthday last Sunday. Once you hit that 30 mark there really isn’t anything exciting to look for. Now you’re 30 and your life is measured by how many years you’ll have left.

My day started with an early church service and meeting to follow. By the afternoon we were fishing with our neighbors at the lake behind our house. That evening my husband and son cooked BBQ chicken and we ate outside on our new patio enjoying the sunset and the breeze. They even made a chocolate cake and to me that was all I expected.

Imagine my surprise to open a present and find a book called “Nikon D80.” My first thought was, “You idiot! This isn’t the kind of camera we have! We have a Fuji!”

But that was just the intro to what came next. A Nikon D80! An actual Nikon D80 camera. I was shocked and excited! I love taking pictures. I was reluctant to get our first Fuji camera right after Ethan was born. It seemed like a lot of money to spend on a camera, but it has been such a great way to document his first years and our family.

Thanks to a husband who purchased a camera for me weeks ago and made sure it was well hidden, turning 31 was quite memorable. He had watched me salivate over my parent’s new camera and said nothing. (He is much better at keeping secrets than I am.)

Now I have been reading and practicing taking pictures with the camera all week. I am beyond blessed by a family who gives more than it takes. My 31st birthday produced a lot of smiles and laughter. I captured them all and tucked them away, for the days when I forget how blessed I truly am.

I’m not entirely sure when it happened or maybe I should say when it all began, but there is a big difference between the 5 year old who attended pre-k and the 6 year old who is now in kindergarten.

A few months ago when we’d leave him for the day at pre-k, we were told to stick only to hugs. No kisses. I was alright with that. There were other kids around and I’m sure he was afraid of the attention it drew.

Then, before bedtime the kisses were met with a scorned look of disgust. There were many evenings of hearing the repeated phase, “No kisses, just hugs.”

When I asked him why we could no longer give him kisses he replied, “I still love you, but I don’t need you to kiss me. I can just tell you I love you.”

At the first day of kindergarten I walked him inside the school and to his room. He stopped me at the door entrance and asked me, “Today’s the only day you’ll do this right?” My 6 year old who used to rely on me to feed him, dress him and hold him didn’t need me today. The problem is that I still need him.

As I walked out of the school I watched as a few other children were crying and clinging to their mother’s. I’m not sure which situation I’d rather be in - feeling needed or feeling guilty?

Since that first morning I’ve dropped him off at the front door and watched this growing little boy walk from our car to the school looking like a little man. I’m grateful he’s confident and independent, but I’m also sad to think each day we get a little bit closer to losing him.

Much like a butterfly, he’s left his cocoon and we’ve had to let him fly. My only hope is that the world realizes how precious he is and that although he is 6, he’s still just a child.

Only 2365 days of school left until high school graduation!

It’s less than 12 hours before I drop Ethan off at a new school to spend his first day in Kindergarten. As I ironed his little red polo shirt and navy shorts (part of his uniform) tonight, I recalled my first day of school. I can remember wearing a white dress with strawberries on it and my mom fixing my hair in a French braid with pretty little white ribbons on the end. My earliest memories of childhood start around this time, which makes me think his will too.

He seems un-fazed by the upcoming day and everyone has asked me if he is excited. I can’t tell that he’s anymore excited about going to school than he is about taking a bath. He definitely has a “whatever” type of attitude much like his father.

I’ve been dreading it though. I’m confident we’ve put him in a great school and that it will be a good environment for him, but I’m just not ready to give him up. My schedule has been pretty flexible over the years since he was born. For the first two summers after his birth I was able to stay home and work only during the school year. Even then I worked from home several days a week, which allowed me to be with him a lot. As he’s gotten older I’ve still been able to stay home almost whenever I wanted. So if we woke up one morning and decided we wanted to stay home and have a pajama day, we did.

Now things are changing. He is expected at school from 8 a.m. - 3 p.m. every day they are in session. We can’t just have a “homeday” as Ethan often called them whenever we want.

So couple that with the fact he’s our only child and I’m having a very hard time letting go. Our schedule is going to be very different and it will take a while to get used to, but we will. My only hope is that the first note home from his teacher isn’t about the fact he picks his nose and eats it!

There is nothing like a weekend family getaway to prove that we are indeed The Winge’s. Now you may wonder who exactly they are. In my world they are a lot like the Griswold’s. They try to make family memories, take trips and have fun, but in the end something always happens. Our memories are usually the exact opposite of what I plan.

All I want is the American dream - to create some happy family memories. Instead we create chaos and drama.

We’re the family who can’t get down the road without realizing we forgot something and need to turn around and go back. Then, we’ll spend the next hour arguing over who’s fault it was.

We’re the family who tries to carry everything up to our hotel room in one trip. We’re the one’s yelling at each in the parking lot about who should carry what.

We’re the family who can’t eat dinner without causing a scene which usually involving me saying something entirely too loud or Ethan spilling a drink.

We’re the family that lies to our kid and tells him the swimming pool is closed only to turn around and see a priest standing behind us in line.

We’re the family who threatened to leave our kid at the St. Louis Arch because he wouldn’t quit whining. We then listened to some people in front of us (who didn’t speak much English) try to tell the security park rangers something along the lines of, “these leave child at tour.” Thank God they didn’t speak English well! We just shrugged our shoulders and moved on. (And no we did not leave him there.)

That’s us and that was our weekend getaway in a nutshell. Yes, we’re that family you probably stare at and shake your head. My parenting style usually shines at its best when we are on vacation. Nothing is more frustrating than wanting to take a picture of your kid with a smile on his face and he outright refuses. But a little bribery goes a long way…like a $6 snow-cone.