You have to eat that marshmallow; it touched pineapple!

Last Mother's Day (2013) was the first one that Shulamith and I could celebrate together as moms. Her baby was not quite a year old and could finally stay home without her (with Da Da, not alone obviously) for longer periods of time, so we decided we deserved a whole day of full-on celebration. You see, our husbands, though possessing many fine and honorable qualities, are not ones to make a big deal of holidays. Neither of them enjoys being the center of attention in any way, so they assume we don't either. Gerald has always told me that I am not his mother (well, true that!), so why would he need to acknowledge me on Mother's Day? Anyway, we knew that if we were going to have a Mother's Day celebration, we would need to do it for ourselves, and we set out to do just that. The result was this.

Fast forward one year to 2014. We were traveling all of Mother's Day weekend to Indiana and back in just three days. No time for our day-long party. Since then, our family has been just a tad busy with three birthday celebrations, Seth off to EFY, Isaiah's graduation, a baby shower, and more. And finally, now that we have half a second to catch our breath, Shulamith's second baby is due in just over a week! It was now or never for our 2014 Mother's Day bash. So last week, we took a day and did it, albeit over a month late. Woo hoo!

We began with brunch, followed by a movie (buttered popcorn included) and pedicures. Fabulous! But the best part was definitely dinner at The Melting Pot, one of our fave restaurants. Our server asked if we were celebrating anything in particular. "Mother's Day," we replied. "A month late." Ha! So then she brought us this:

We dipped delicious french bread into Swiss fondue. Ahhhhhhhhh! But then. THEN. We dipped marshmallows, rice crispy treats, pound cake, brownies, blondies, and cheesecake into chocolate fondue laced with crumbled Heath bars. Yep, it's every bit as good as you are imagining right now. No, it's better. Of course, they also serve strawberries, bananas, and pineapple, but I'm not allowed to dip any of the fruit into the chocolate because that might contaminate it. Instead I have to put fruit on my own plate and then get a spoonful of chocolate and drizzle it over my fruit. Silly girl.

Which brings me to the title of this post. At one point I noticed that Shulamith hadn't eaten one of the marshmallows. "You have to eat that marshmallow; it touched pineapple!" she explained.

Shulamith and I love being moms more than absolutely anything else. Ever. In the whole world. So Happy Mother's Day to us.

"Nen, night night? No."

Shulamith will tell you that her child, Swen, is practically perfect. Well, of course! All little children are perfect; they come straight from Heaven, for Heaven's sake! How could they be any other way? Though perfect, some are a tad bit easier than others. Swen is seriously the sweetest little toddler; he is funny and happy and full of joy, very much like his mother. His one small "issue" is and always has been sleep. Sleep has always eluded him. He didn't actually sleep through the night until he was 15 months old, and even then it was hit and miss. Even now, he needs someone to stay with him each night until he manages to fall asleep, and that can take between 30 and 90 minutes. It's hard for him. However, waking up in the morning isn't hard at all, and he likes to do that around 5:00 a.m. Yep, I did say 5:00. Yikes! He will have some good periods, where he'll sleep till 7:00 or even later, but those don't ever seem to last very long. Currently, he's back on the "wake at 5:00 a.m. schedule," and his mother is three weeks away from giving birth to his baby sister. She is exhausted.

Today is her baby shower. I told her to bring Swen up at 5:00, so she could go back to sleep and be rested for the shower. She didn't. She waited until 7:00 because "This way both of us will get a decent amount of sleep to face the day." Fair enough, although I would have been glad to take him at 5:00 in order to give her some much-needed rest.

Here is Swen playing with toys:

The two of us just had the following conversation:

Swen: "Mom?"

Terrianne: "Mom is night night. She had to go night night because you woke her up so early."

Swen:  "Da Da?"

Terrianne: "Da Da is night night. He had to go night night because he works hard and needs to rest and doesn't want to get up at 5:00."

Swen: "Mom, night night. Da Da, night night. Nen, night night? No!!!"

What does 50 pounds look like?

Like this.

This first picture is Eli on March 24th, the day before he left Tennessee.

Let's backtrack. Body image is one of those crappy things many of us struggle with. I sure do. Left on its own, my body would be between 35 and 40 pounds heavier than it is today. How do I know? Because it used to be. Fifteen or so years ago, before I began to monitor food intake constantly, incessantly, and religiously, I weighed 35-40 pounds more than I do now. And I didn't like it. I could lie and tell you it was about health and fitness and other such virtues, or I could tell you the truth: that it is all about body image. All about vanity. Truth is I like the way I look better when I'm thin. And that matters to me. Should it? I don't know. Does it make me superficial? Maybe? Have I caved to societal pressure, including air-brushed, photoshopped models telling me that beautiful equals thin? Without a doubt.

And I've undoubtedly passed forward some of this to my unsuspecting children, for better or worse. Moreover, I've also passed on the genetic predisposition to weight issues to some of them, some...not all. Which leads to another weirdly interesting phenomenon in our family. As many of you know, Gerald and I have different last names, so the obvious question that arose once upon a time was what last name we would give our children. With no malicious intent to confuse the world forever (though that's pretty much what happened), we opted to alternate last names as each child came along. The result is that three are Erichsens and two are Websters.

And here's the crazy part. The three Erichsens (Luke, Isaiah, and Seth) take after their father in countless ways, one being the ability to remain beautifully long and lean regardless of what they eat. It's so not fair. The Websters (Shulamith and Eli) are more like me and have to watch every last calorie. Blah! Poor Eli was pretty much doomed when he headed for a 2-year mission to the southern states. Like all missionaries, he was at the mercy of whatever the members fed him, and oh my how they fed him! Fried everything. I think he gained nearly 60 pounds in the two years. Something like that. It was bound to happen. Focused on the work, with little time to think about food, and with members eager to show him that gracious southern hospitality, yep, it was inevitable.

The day he came home he declared that the following day he would begin a weight loss plan. Really? "Don't you want to just relax for a few days before thinking about dieting?" Nope. He was absolutely determined to begin the very next day. And he did. That was 2 1/2 months ago, and this is the result. We took a one-meal break when he reached the 30-pound mark, but other than that, he has been full on committed to the plan every day since he got back. That was 50 pounds ago. His goal is to fit into some of his pre-mission designer jeans, and he's super close.

Weight loss is hard. Crazy hard. I know this. You lucky people who are naturally thin (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) really have no idea.

This second picture is Eli today, a full 50 pounds lighter.

 Congrats to Eli for his incredible determination.

He didn't have to walk. He did it for me.

I've heard it said that the only people who say money doesn't matter are those who have lots of it.

I disagree.

I don't have lots of it. I never have. I probably never will.

In fact, those who research happiness and what specific things make people happy find, hands down, that, with the exception of those who are so poor as to lack the most basic needs in life (and those people really do exist right here in the United States, which is reprehensible, but that's a different post for a different time), our happiness is not in any way connected to how much money we have.

Indeed, everything else matters more. This thought came to me yesterday, as I sat for what seemed like hours (wait--it didn't SEEM like hours; it WAS hours!) waiting for the name "Isaiah Webster Erichsen" to be called, and to see my baby walk across the stage to receive his Bachelor's Degree in Computer Science from Westminster College. The speakers were mediocre at best; nevertheless, one quote from the keynote speaker's remarks struck me.

He said: "You can make a living from what you get, but you make a life from what you give."

Surely, a life of service is a life well spent. Our Isaiah is a classic middle child. I've said this before, and it doesn't change. He prefers to remain in the background, under the radar, unnoticed. He has few needs. He asks for little. But he loves us, and we all know it. He gives many gifts to our family, not the least of which is his understated, dry, and utterly hilarious sense of humor. He brings into our home something foreign to the rest of us: basketball. We watch him watch NBA games, about which we care nothing, but as he informs us about players and statistics and scores and averages and past games and draft picks and more, we become involved. We start to actually care about whatever team he is cheering for that day, because well, passion is contagious. And he is passionate about basketball. It's so weird.

For sure, though, my quiet, unassuming introvert had zero interest in walking through commencement exercises. He does not like to be the center of attention. He finds these types of ceremonies unnecessary, meaningless, and excruciatingly boring. So why did he walk? He did it for me. Why was it important to me? Well, you see, these ceremonies (though boring, yes) represent something important. They represent a great accomplishment. They represent victory. Victory over not only exams and deadlines and essays and programming projects, but victory over fears and insecurities and weaknesses. And I believe in celebrating those victories.

Gerald and I have always valued education. We set a goal to help all our kids through their undergraduate degrees, assuming they were interested and willing to put forth the effort. We didn't want lack of money to stand in the way, and we definitely didn't want their educations to place a burden on their future spouses. I've been told that unless a kid pays for his own education, without outside help, he won't value it. I disagree. My family helped me through my first degree, and I can hardly think of anything I value more! So while it was, and continues to be, a fairly significant financial sacrifice, we are thrilled to be able to help them through. And, by the way, our record now is "3 down, 2 to go!" Yeah, baby!

Proud Parents

Isaiah's oldest brother flew from Indiana to attend the graduation, bringing the seven original Erichsen-Websters together for the first time in 3 1/2 years. I don't like the picture of me because my eyes are totally squinty from the dumb sun, but it's the only one we got of all seven of us, so look at everyone else and not me, K, thanks!

This was my favorite photo of the whole day. These two bros, though different as night and day, have always been the best of friends. I hope they always are.

"We can make a living from what we get, but we make a life from what we give."

My dearest Isaiah, I do not know where life will lead you. I can't predict what path will be yours. But I do know this: You have tremendous potential to be a force for good in the world. Your heart is pure and your values strong. Thank you for giving me the gift of watching you graduate yesterday. You didn't have to walk. You did it for me.