Adventure Awaits

In the early 1940’s, my great-grandfather bought a piece of land on a beautiful lake in Northen Michigan. Logs were brought in and raised with the help of a team of horses, and giant stones were carried by boat to create a beautiful fireplace. It was the first cabin on that beach, a three bedroom, one bath cabin, with a window-filled porch, overlooking a vast, sandy beach.

This is where I spent my summers. Every summer. Every possible weekend, we’d load up the van and head “up north” to our favorite place to be.

This place is still our home away from home. My kids have grown up in that cabin and on that beach, too. We are blessed to have a little piece of heaven on earth where we can go to escape the summer heat and get in some much needed lake time.

And because it’s so easy to pop up to the cabin on a weekend, or every weekend, we’ve never felt the need to travel anywhere else with the kids. Jason and I have taken little trips here and there to different parts of the country, and I have wanted to explore many different places with my kids. It’s hard to imagine, but we only have three more summers before Owen is off to college, so time is of the essence. For years I have dreamed of this. For the past year I have planned this. Today, the dream becomes a reality. Today we embark on one epic journey.

We have studied our state capitals...

We have hunted and gathered and packed everything we could think of, and we are ready to go. In the next 16 days, we plan to visit 16 states. Aside from the days we will be spending with my aunt and uncle in Colorado, we have no reservations. We have a tentative schedule, but we plan to just see what each day holds and roll with it. Did I mention we are camping and that we have never even been camping as a family? Are we crazy? Maybe. All I can tell you is that this family is nothing but excited. Today we bid farewell to our farm filled with tiny chicks and surrounded by fields of gold to see what this great country has to offer.

My 14er

I had always dreamed of having a daughter. I wanted frilly dresses and painted toenails and pierced ears and and shiny lipstick and everything pink and the most fun ever.

And then she was here.  My daughter.

 A little sister for Owen.

And she was adorable.

She might not have slept through the night until she was a year old, but that didn't stop her from growing!  By the time she was 18 months old, she was a force to be reckoned with.

And then she was two, and a big sister to Greyson.  Could there be a more excited little girl?!

She was always striking a pose.

When she was four, she became a big sister again, and this time was given the gift of a little sister!  Her excitement was overflowing.

I think she knew she was the prettiest little girl around.

She just loved hanging out in Nashville, hoping to catch a glimpse of Taylor Swift.

But hey, a spin on the playground was pretty fun, too.

After begging along with her siblings for mom to have one more baby, she got her wish when she was seven years old.  She was like a little mother to Nash.

And then, I'm not sure what happened, but life shifted into warp speed.  She attended her first daddy-daughter dance in Ohio.

She seemed less like a little girl every time I looked at her.

Suddenly she was attending her last daddy-daughter dance in Ohio.

By the time we came back to Michigan in 2014, I was wondering what had happened to my little girl.  She was nine going on nineteen.

And the hits just kept on coming.  BAM.

BAM.

BAM.

Wasn't it a crime for an 11 year old to look this grown up?!  BAM.

I don't know exactly when she became infatuated with cats, but the obsession is REAL.

As she headed to middle school, time wasn't slowing down.

And as social media worked its way into her life, I was instructed, "Don't post that one, Mom.  Send it to me so I can post it!"

But I was happy, as long as she let me keep taking pictures of her, even with braces.

As she navigated her way through the throes of dreaded middle school, her hair got shorter.

Dresses faded mostly away.

Her hair got shorter still.

She was developing her own personal style.

As she headed towards the end of eighth grade, she turned 14.  FOURTEEN.  Hold me.

But I really can't complain, can I?  As a mother, I've hit the jackpot with her.  She is funny and beautiful and outspoken and so smart.

And if you know her, you know how much she despises anything that has to do with running, yet she has always supported my habit; she has always been my cheerleader.

The end of her eighth grade year left me gasping for air a little bit.  I mean, just look at her.

I have to send this young lady to high school next month.  HIGH SCHOOL.  Do you remember high school?  Middle school might be the worst, but high school is no picnic.  These next four years are going to be filled to the brim for her with football games and dances and homework and friendship and choices about her future.  She will have days that feel like weeks, and months that pass in a blink, and I hope she holds on tightly to the good and lets the not-so-good just roll away.  She has always had a carefree spirit.  She has always chosen to do her own thing and be her own person, no matter what anyone else says or thinks.  The things I've written here might all be about the past, but the past is what has made her into the smart and beautiful person she is today.  She knows who she is, and that's the most important thing.

14 years ago, I was given a gift.  A tiny bundle, wrapped in pink, to love forever: my Emerson.  I've got the girl with the frilly dresses and painted toenails and pierced ears and shiny lipstick and she is the most fun ever.

Happy birthday, Em.  Mom loves you.