Hey there, loved ones

I just made This Coconut Oil and Almond Pound Cake to put into This Blackberry and Custard Trifle for Easter.

I also dropped the girls off at school, went to the g-sore, came home and found that the backyard and Lucy smelled like death.  I discovered that she had torn into a bag of cotton burr compost.  It smells like she ate it, threw it up, and rolled in it.  So, I cleaned up the spilled compost, and bathed the dog, and cleaned the bathroom, and cleaned myself.
And now I've stollen a slice of pound cake to give myself a treat for all my hard work. :)

I'm trying to figure out why I don't blog as often as I used to.  Well, it feels indulgent, actually.  I didn't used to think that.  But I've come to see it as either bragging the good stuff or dragging you through my emotions from the bad stuff.  If I were super awesome like Tedd Tripp or Ann Voskamp, I would be more incline to share.
I know my dear Grandma will always say she wants to hear it, and that's sweet of her. :)

It feels good to share some drama. :)  But maybe my need isn't there like it used to be, to share drama.    But also, now that the girls are getting older, it feels like these stories aren't just my stories now.  They are also their stories, and their lives and their hearts.

I've had my eyes opened to a whole new world with my 10-yr-old's school friends.  Lately, there seems to be a competition over who has the most physical ailments or special needs.  If you have asthma, you get respect.  If you have a "heart problem" and can skip out of running laps, you're nearly queen of the class.
Riley requested to bring one of my lumbar support pillows to sit at her desk.  I didn't think that would be a problem, but it did cause the queen of the class (a girl who loves her pain), to get mad at Riley and argue that her back pain was worse.  So weird!

So, Riley was hurt and confused and we had a talk about competition and just saying to the "queens" of the world, "Okay, you do have the thickest hair.  You win."
(But seriously, Riley's is the thickest :)).

At my school (haha.  Home) we did not compete for most ailments, but rather who had more positive attributes, like strongest, loudest, or who could drink the most milk (Ange and I were so awesome). :) So the competition that surrounds Riley baffles me.

I don't think I ever wanted to win a motherhood competition.  I know people have it harder than I ever did.  But blogging became a place where I could put my struggle out there and just feel heard.  Sometimes your husband is just as exhausted as you, and sitting on the couch at the end of the day to rehash all the ways your brain exploded that day, is just not helpful.
So rather than pay a therapist, I blogged stuff.  Possibly joyless, hopeless stuff, but sometimes that's where I was.  I'd feel guilty if I didn't polish it up with a gospel ending, but that doesn't mean I always found hope there.  Half the time I'd find hope in coffee, exercise, leaving, Vitamin D, and sleep.

Anyway, all that to say, sorry I don't blog like I used to.  Times are a changing.

Now days, if someone says, "Hey there!  What have the Weber's been up to lately?"  My brain goes searching for something more substantial than, "Oh, you know, homework, groceries, laundry...Oh, and now gardening!"  So, I also feel like that's all I have to put here; just talking about house keeping and food making.

Of course, there is funny and neat stuff in-between the trudging, and I should share that.

I finally framed and hung one of my favorite pictures, of my mom and chunky, baby Riley that my brother Zach took.  It's grainy and awesome.

 Lola hearts people to send them her love. :)  

But the other day in the van she was X-ing people (crossed hands), which means she is not sending them her love.  The fight erupted while we were driving, 

Kate:  Moooooom!  Lola is x-ing me!  Fine!  I'm going to X YOU!

Lola:  Noo!  Stop x-ing me!

Mom: I can't believe I'm saying this.  Stop X-ing your sister!

The pollen was thick last weekend and killed my head and my voice.  I could barely get my voice out, so I'd push with all my might to say, "Go practice piano.  You finish your homework.  Please let Lucy out.  Put your your yogurt bowls away."  And then my heart rate would be so high, I'd be out of breath and feel my heart thumping behind my eyes with all my clogged up sinuses.  My voices almost back, my nose is almost breathable, and I can almost sleep through night.

But it's the weekend!  And I'm making a blackberry trifle!  And it's Easter!
We're going to have a sunrise service and I've NEVER been to one.  I'm so so excited.  We're joining our new church this Sunday too.  No matter how my face pressure feels, I'm really really happy.