penny for my thoughts

sanctify this food we pray

2012-02-06T10:09:00.001-05:00

I grew up in a home where praying freely, calling on the Lord's name openly, thanking Him for all things were a commonplace occurrence- as common as washing one's hands when preparing food.

Praying before meals was not a religious or ritualistic experience, rather a time to contact the One we loved the most. Thanking him for the food was a simple yet pointed matter. Sanctifying the food was equally so. I accepted each of these practices as a matter of course and also embraced them with understanding and appreciation for myself. Except this little matter of sanctifying the food. That, I did not get. Yes, I wanted it to nourish my body for His purpose, but. . . uh? To sanctify something is to set it apart. Really, it's just food, and while I'm hopeful it's not spoiled, that's rarely a real concern of mine. And so it went, this not making much of sanctifying the food.

Until very recently when it slowly dawned on me just how serious a matter it really is. . . . . .

If you are at all in tune with things related to healthy eating, organic foods, what animals are fed versus what they should eat, pesticides, antibiotics, living conditions of the animals, genetically modifying our produce. . . . the list goes on and on here - then you will at least begin to understand what I speak of. I, for one, quite simply do not have the financial means to purchase all foods organic and eat the way I would love to. I accept the argument that you can spend your money on organic foods or you can spend your money on hospital bills later. I get that - very much so. But that still leaves the need for the actual cash flow to get it to your table.

In my years of researching and seeking to understand food allergies better, I have come across more than one article about the connection between genetically modified foods and the dramatic increase in allergies over the past 15 or so years. I have consistently found this alarming in levels I don't have words for. And buying groceries for my family has become an extremely stressful task. Now, not only am I trying to accommodate safety with each food purchase, all the way down to potential cross-contamination for fear of my daughter's life - I am also plagued with the desire and desperation to choose as much organic food as I possibly can to prevent further allergies from flaring up and simply be healthier. My budget just doesn't cover that much organic food. It can't feed six of us that way no matter how I've tried. I do what I can and buy some of it organic and some of it not. It's the best I can do. (If you see someone circling the meat department three times before deciding which meat to buy on any given week, that might be me. . .)

Food allergies get in the way of normal life: eating with friends on Sunday afternoons, and homeschool parties, friend's birthdays, . I have prayed over this matter of my family's allergies more times than I can begin to recount to you. . . about them, for them, for healing, for safety. . . And along the way, it occurred to me that I need to pray for the sanctifying of the food. For He is able to cover all the things I cannot, as well as the things I can. He is able to set the food apart, help it nourish our bodies, and keep it from further damaging them. He cares about this even more than I do - and wants my children to grow into men and women of God who can serve Him and love Him. Will he heal my daughter, son, husband? I don't know. I will pray for it, believing. If He chooses not to, I will accept that and be thankful. But along the way, I find that I pray about the food while I shop, while I cook, while I serve a meal....

**There are many, many resources relating to food allergies and GMOs and other similar topics. Choosing just one or two for my posting was difficult and silly in some ways - a simple search on Google popped up more than I wanted to see. One of them even showed a person allergic to the GMO itself - with symptoms identical to those my husband has had for 15 years (chronic hives). I have placed a few links here, but further reading is easily available should you desire it. . . .

Seeds of Deception
("The UK is one of the few countries that conducts a yearly evaluation of food allergies. In March 1999, researchers at the York Laboratory were alarmed to discover that reactions to soy had skyrocketed by 50% over the previous year. Genetically modified soy had recently entered the UK from US imports and the soy used in the study was largely GM. John Graham, spokesman for the York laboratory, said, “We believe this raises serious new questions about the safety of GM foods.”")

GMO Food Allergies
("To my surprise, I discovered that my sister was having the same problem of constantly breaking out in hives. After extensive allergy testing, her doctor told her it was from genetically modified corn. It has been proven that the tendency for allergies is inherited. So, anytime she (or I) eat anything with genetically modified corn or corn derivatives in it, we break out in hives.")

Gentically Modified Foods Unsafe
("Another study verified that GM soybeans contain an IgE-binding allergenic protein not found in nonGM soy controls, and that one of eight subjects who showed a skin-prick allergic reaction to GM soy had no reaction to nonGM soy.9 Although the sample size is small, the implication that certain people react only to GM soy is huge.")

a smattering of things

2012-01-16T16:27:00.002-05:00

A somewhat "normal" balance and rhythm are starting to fall into place for us. I've been exercising to let go and let some of our school days be less rather than more - yes, we still need the "more" to an extent, but right now I'm feeling that there is a season for everything, and this is a season for "less." Perhaps in the new year we will find the energy to tackle "more" again. Each week can look vastly different in our little world.

I did pursue the coaching with 7sisters and it has gone very well. I am encouraged, guided, prayed for, and given opportunities to ask, consider and decide. I can say that I highly recommend this experience for anyone who is adjusting things in their homeschool or related situation. Among many other things, I have learned that my "ideal" shows my heart, and my "good enough" is truly good enough. I don't have to get everything crammed into every day.

And the light for Little B - it never ceases to amaze me how content my son has become. The "issues" we get are so very small compared to any other time in his life that I am blown away. God answered my desperate pleas with grandeur and I feel immense relief and unceasing thanks and praise....(that said, I need to write some sentences 100 times as punishment: "I will never deliberately let Little B have dairy again in my lifetime." Suffice it to say that was a one-day experiment gone badly astray and lasted way more than one day. Keeping him dairy free makes for a much happier family life in every way!)

I still feel a deep and overwhelming sense of thankfulness every time we pull onto our street, and it deepens as I park on the driveway and come into my home. I do not take for granted the cozy warm feeling and the space to spread out and school in any corner or read on a real couch, run in a massive back yard. These things foster hope and peace in my soul.

In the past couple of weeks, since Bitsy turned one, Baby J and I have both had birthdays. Nothing like feeling a little older and moving onward. I'm beginning to sense that I will survive this thing called life and tackling it head on is a sure fire way to succeed. The years I've piddled on this little blog have certainly documented some interesting seasons of my life. It has me thinking and pondering some things. I'm not even sure if I have words to share those thoughts, but perhaps they will gel a bit more in the months to come.

Now I must tend a bit of laziness in someone's lessons for the day. . .

one

2011-12-27T08:17:00.000-05:00

Bitsy is one today. Her sweet babyness is wisping into toddlerhood farfaster than I am ready for. This past week she's begun showing sometemper - and it cracks me up! As a mom of four, I've been down theseroads enough that I am no longer bothered by toddler tantrums and know theywill come and go and be done eventually. The other day I secretly watchedher get very angry at something she had trouble grabbing . . . sheclenched her tiny fists, ducked her dark silky head and let a piercing wail ripthrough the house until her cheeks turned red, then stopped, probably needing some air. I guess shedecided that was all the effort it was worth and after one more half-heartedattempt at the task, she moved on.

I can barely grasp that it has been a full year since I first held my newborn girl in my arms. And I am still wrapping my heart and mind around the fact that never again will I hold my own child in their first hours of life - those days are now over. I know I have a lot of years to enjoy ahead of me, but an era has ended and I pause, considering that no matter how hard I want to savor the moments and love the sweet breathing of a tiny person, holding the softest of skin against me, the moments are truly fleeting and quickly slip away.

Thankfully, there are still many baby-like moments ahead as my sweet Bitsy transitions into this new stage of life. For today, I am thankful that she is mine, safely ensconced in this family who thinks she hung the moon.

2011-11-12T20:17:00.001-05:00

I'm still here - a tad more rested thanks to Bitsy finally cutting tooth #2 and a bit less frazzled thanks to a fabulous 10,000 lux light therapy lamp that Little B uses during breakfast/math with Daddy for 45 minutes each morning. He craves it, loves it. It's helped. A lot. Enough that my body feels like the massive elephant that was squeezing the life out of me decided to shift his weight a little and I can breathe again - even move a little. I don't think he got up and left the room, and the light won't solve *every* issue at hand, but overall, yes, things are noticeably improved. (And no, I did not pay $300 at Amazon, I found it much cheaper on ebay, thank you Lord!!)

I also decided to get that homeschool coaching from 7sisters. I want to figure out how to balance the structure and routine required to keep Little B on track with the vast array of learning tools that are so appealing. I want to figure out how to let him have structured time (math, geography, grammar, etc) and independent study time (among some other slightly more relaxed subjects, he's currently reading books about renewable resources, and not all from the kid's area at the library) - and what is reasonable to expect from him after he's studied a new topic. How can I know he's learning, not just skimming the material (that can happen just as easily as an information overload with him) without a full blown melt down because he hates writing? On a good day, he'd be happy to do it; on a bad day, watch out Mama! I need to adjust things and find a better rhythm in our week, I think. I get stuck in such a traditional curriculum rut and then everyone is burned out and the more creative learning I wanted to do gets left by the wayside. I guess I don't trust that the phonics will be learned, the math understood. . . . there are so many ways to homeschool that I don't get, and others that I think would be lovely.

I hope your week was good, each of my dear blogging friends. . . .

conundrums

2011-10-27T15:15:00.006-04:00

Decisions.
Debating, arguing, listening, following, praying, reading, trying, failing, trying, wondering, deciding...

I'm worn out.

I do not want to follow my Lord on this topic. I AM following, but my feelings are not there. Yet. (Feelings are not really the issue, here, though.) I am obeying, because I'm sure I've had people wearing out their knees on my son's behalf and my heart is incapable of following through on my threats. Tomorrow is my self-imposed deadline. But the decision is made perhaps because I have more fear of the backfire from making my son climb aboard a bus and leaving him open to lashing out at strangers than I do of failing at my efforts at home.

So, at least through the end of 2011 he will be here. Plugging away with me. I was persuaded that it was not fair to send him to school because of his behavior - definitely true, but what is fair? Besides, I didn't say I was playing fair.

And it still remains: something has to drastically change or I cannot go on.
I challenged my Lord to make some changes and He did answer. Not as completely as I wanted, nor as dramatically as I'd hoped. But I see some light and there is enough for me to muster through. The Lord definitely has his own agenda, and it clearly does not line up with what I was seeing in my mind's eye (ie, a windfall of money for private school or, even better, an exclusive tutor. . .)
Instead, He shed some light on some things to try to address:

1) - Seasonal Affective Disorder. I knew it by experience with my son, not by name. And I see with some research that like the sensory issues and other needs, it clearly overlaps with the whole kit and caboodle of things he struggles through every day of every year. A light box is apparently a great tool for this and I am currently researching how to go about finding the right one. The doctor wasn't sure how to recommend one and essentially told me I could figure it out. So, that is my first next step. (If anyone knows anything, please do shed some light here!)

2) - Shaking it up. I never completely figured out how to crawl out of my "school box" so to speak. I have tried. Valiantly. I ask questions, I dream of doing it, I just never feel secure enough to carry through. But for this to succeed, I have to figure it out. I really do. I feel lost, though. I am not as far into unschooling as to let everything fly out the window, but I am very much into helping my son succeed. And so far most of my ways are not working out as well as I'd like. I have thoughts and ideas on it, but I think it's time for a week's vacation from our routines in order to figure some things out for myself. I had truly hoped by now I'd have a better handle on this homeschool life.

3) - Taking a walk. Twice a day would be best. I need it. My kids need it. We need the exercise and the sunshine and the positive together time. Regardless of the temperature (I draw the line at rain, however). I am horrible at walking and outside time. Horrible. I am a homebody through and through and content to sip my coffee and gaze out a window and read a book. I just am. It's after 3pm now and my plan today was to walk before lunch. I even have a good street for it. Just failed. If it wasn't the baby napping it was the growling bellies and then I effectively forgot. Until now. And now. . . other than writing this blog I have another excuse but still not a good one. I desperately want to make this consistent. I. Must. Do. It.

I think I need to take a week off and address some potential changes curriculum, expectations, routines, hopes, atmosphere (remember, we're still in un-packing mode and there is a lot I have not finished getting set up the way I'd like....life keeps getting in the way!) I have some resources and thoughts and am even considering some "mentoring" that is available at 7sisters. There is a pull to that direction for me. I need back up in this.

That is where I am for today. And right now, my kids are still waiting for a walk - perhaps that will be the best tool for doing it each day. . . . .

i give up

2011-10-25T19:00:00.000-04:00

I think I'm about to quit. Homeschooling, that is.
At least in part - only one child has been threatened with an appointment at the local elementary school (on Friday). And I'm not bluffing and I don't care anymore. Friday is my deadline for something to give.

My whole being is burned out right now. And no, I cannot take a break - there is no break from the people who have me worn out, whether schooling or not.

I feel like a quitter - but I don't care. And I'm not posting for moral support....just to say what is as it is.

I have had too many weeks, months - and now years - of incessant arguing over what I ask someone to do. This year we've added a whiny voice to the mix and I'm a bit too preoccupied with the one who really gets belligerent to give her what she really needs and explain the work to her. Hardly her fault. But my patience is shredded by the time I can sit down at her desk.

Burned out? Try a hollow cavern.

Here's the catch. I'm getting angry at my God.
I completely believe my kids need to be homeschooled. I do. And I think He has asked me to do it. I love so many parts of it and have such huge aspirations and dreams and . . . . the reality just crumbles like a sandcastle when the ocean waves close over it. I have truly reached a point where my responses to the attitudes are not what I want them to be. It makes me sad. And mad. And angry.

I'm angry because I know this is the best option. But I have poured out every single thing in my being for so long that there is nothing left. Not a drop in the bucket. There have been heart-rending times in the past year, and while that's not where we are today, it's still an uphill battle to an extreme. It's not about getting the work done - that happens when he finally sits his tail in a chair and stops arguing - and he does it well. But the fighting beforehand about why we do certain subjects or how we do them or if we do them or whether it can be a half day or a day off or skip a subject - there is no end and it takes up my morning. Even if I ignore it. Or punish it. Or send him out of the room. And then the whole crew is miserable.

I'm angry because I need a break. Not a mommy's night out (though they help a lot usually), and not even a mini-vacation (as phenomenal as that would be) - I need time with my almost-four year old who is getting in more and more mischief, and I'm guessing he needs the fighting to stop and a little more loving - something I'd be happy to offer if I wasn't about to crumble by lunch time. I need time to snuggle my almost-one year old before her baby moments are gone forever. I need time to be more hands-on with and explain math and phonics to my eager 1st grader.

I'm angry because I cannot figure out another option to keep him homeschooled without destroying our relationship permanently. Because that's what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid that in 8 years he will walk away and be so glad to never return. I'm afraid I will ruin our relationship forever. My mom mentioned that when he was little, we were so close. That drug my heart to my toes - I miss my little boy. I'm not talking about the changes that will come with growing up - I'm worried about how he sees me. When he yells he hates me, sometimes I think it's mutual and we both mean it. Just for that moment. My heart is breaking.

So I want to keep him here and homeschool him. But I'm not willing to do it at the cost of our relationship and the detriment of the other kids - or my sanity. It's not fair or acceptable for him to need 90% of me and the other people in the house split up the remaining 10%. And I can't afford a tutor, or one of the supplemental options like Classical Conversations (that would require me 100% anyway), or the other places that have classes once a week even if they're cheap.

This leaves me challenging the Lord to find a solution that I cannot fathom. Not a small one, not a temporary band-aid, not a patch - a real solution. By Friday. That is three small days. I've told my son he needs to step it up - that he can change the outcome of Friday's decision with dramatic attitude adjustments. So my child and my God - they are the only two people who can make me keep him home. And I see him trying. But it's not there yet. His glass has been half empty his whole life. I need it half full.

And I don't even want the public route. It brings dread of all the teacher calls, the notes home, the millions of problems that always came up when we did this before. I don't have energy for that any more than I do for this. I feel like I lose regardless. But maybe those few hours a day for my daughter will at least help her.

No, I don't think it's right. I think it could be an awful decision. But I am past that. I will forge ahead if something doesn't give (so feel free to pray - I'm in a pit and can't climb out). Every single fiber of my being wants something to change so I don't have to follow through on Friday. I cannot argue with him any more. I can't. It's been too much for too long - I know that partly it's a cycle that starts every single fall and gets deeper and worse until spring decides to peek around the corner. But I cannot wait that out any more and it's depressing me. I need it to change. Now.

life unplugged

2011-10-21T15:32:00.001-04:00

I have had a dozen posts in my head that never make it to the keyboard - I just can't find the time (and I just noticed almost as many in my draft folder!). But ~~today~~ the other day I read a post by Mommy Made Green called The Truth that made me want to post my own reality. So here it is.

I realize I am already fairly transparent, but the craziness of our life is what stops me from having so much blog time these days - so I thought I'd like to invite you over for just a glimpse of my day...

As you know, I now have four children - Bitsy is already 9 mos old and on the move; Baby J is no longer a baby, now well past the 3 1/2 year old mark and a blend of delicious smug grins and deep mischief that runs me ragged; Miss C is 6 1/2 and a blend of tomboy and feminine that I find wonderful and refreshing; Little B is 10 1/2 and not at all little any more, rather growing like a weed with a tender heart (and pre-puberty hitting me hard). I may need to rethink the boys' names on here soon!

And. I homeschool. Just the older two for now.

I cannot get Baby J to be still while I teach the others - pouring liquids is a favorite pastime for him (think entire water bottles on the new carpet kind of pouring liquids), and markers on things other than paper (I really thought he'd outgrown this!), messing with the computer buttons, coloring IF the book is in my lap, snuggling, talking and talking and talking, sneaking under desks for a myriad of reasons, wires being only one of them. A handful to be sure - but a charming one no doubt.

Bitsy is easier to work around with a few toys and nap time, though the new crawling thing is beginning to present a challenge. We now step on Cheerios all day long, hence a bigger need for vacuuming around here!

A day in my home is a day like no other - but I like to believe I'm not alone.

I begin our homeschool day in pj's with at least my 2nd cup of coffee in hand. More often than not I am still writing out the day's assignments in their spiral notebooks when 9am rolls around. I juggle the assignments and questions with the cries for attention from my younger ones. I battle the arguments of why we do certain subjects and the quieter whines of not wanting to do more phonics.

Laundry is usually in many stages in several rooms - piles (sometimes merged as one large pile) in the laundry area, sorters long forgotten because they are not so easy to reach now. There are at least 3 loads finally cleaned and dried waiting to be folded or already folded but knocked down thanks to my favorite mischief maker. My husband wore khakis on his day off ~~this~~ last weekend - when asked why, he told me none of jeans were clean. Oops. (I have since remedied that problem.)

I use cloth diapers - ~~but it's Luvs on her bottom right now because the laundry is behind (and Baby J's car seat cover is getting an overdue cleaning - the sour smell made it a priority)~~. - but sometimes Luvs land on her bottom because the laundry is piled high and there are other things that take precedence. And sometimes you'll just find one or two of those lying around, having lost it's way to the diaper pail. Or trash can depending on the day.

The dishes did get rotated today (and the day I initially tried to write this), but they are still piled up in the sink for the next round - sorry, I do not know how my grandmothers had so many kids with no dishwasher. I'm not as strong as they, perhaps. Oh, and if the wrong thing goes into the sink, we have tiny little ants that love to come and play.

Dinner plans go awry frequently at 3pm or 4pm when I suddenly realize that I forgot to put it in the crock-pot AGAIN (today, it made it in there before noon - but it was on the menu twice this week already). Instead, it's usually still in the freezer so crock-potting it no longer applies. Then I scramble to solve it or thaw it or hope someone will bring me Chinese food and make it all go away. (Usually I have to solve it and scrambled eggs frequent our dinner table.)

Vacuuming happens a little more right now since Bitsy has earned a new nickname - Shark. AKA Hoover. She really does try to keep the paper off the floor for me. And pennies (seriously, the floor was clear in that room - where did it come from??). {Oh, and little side note: I really do call her Bitsy. All the time.}

Mopping is a chore I cannot find time for - I hand-mop the bathroom floor right around the commode on a very regular basis because I have a three year old boy. Enough said my friends. My kitchen is much lower on the totem pole of necessary things to do - clean underwear ranks near the top.

I will say that having kids who are chore-aged is very helpful. Between them the trash goes out, the dishwasher gets emptied, the bathroom counters get cleaned, certain floors get vacuumed. . .etc. If they were not doing those things, I would buy stock in paper plates right now. The good, sturdy quality ones. And I promise that when I realize the ring around the toilet is getting noticeable, I clean it (within a couple days). And the sheets - they've got a schedule to follow for when to come off the bed and get washed. Not super obedient, those sheets, but we work at it. Eventually, right?

Do you remember that we moved this summer? Then started our homeschool a few weeks later? Can you deduce what that implies? Yeah, we still have a lot of boxes stacked up. And shelves waiting to be attached to walls whenever my hubby has some time so I can unpack said boxes (lots of books in those boxes - the friends who help us move always comment.. . .). I won't complain, though - the truth is we are so comfortable here that I know we'll get it done on the days off. (I LOVE the space God provided in this home!)

Speaking of days off, it is finally Friday! I live for Friday - we never school unless someone asks to (Sometimes Miss C asks, I provide, she changes her mind, we move on). It's my day off - to catch up on household chores like folding laundry, to lounge around, play Legos, read books, watch too much TV, vacuum again, and right now I'm longing for a nap. And I may try for one since the middles are happy with Timmy Time and I'm happy they're happy.

And now, I am on my way again - there is some popcorn and a book in the other room that just called out to me. Perhaps I'll doze there, too. . . .

Have a lovely weekend my friends. I hope I make it back to visit soon. . .

two in one

2011-08-01T10:02:00.004-04:00

I have two stories to tell. But really they are just one story...

Story #1
Back in February I took Little B to a birthday party for one of his best buddies. There were a handful of boys at the party and as we dropped our kids off, some of the moms were chatting in the (freezing cold) cul-de-sac while the kids ran and played. I met two or three women, but one stood out to me - probably because she has a peanut allergy and allergies are notable to me for some odd reason. She was very friendly and I've heard that her son is a nice kid (albeit a tad older) - that means my son didn't have any struggles with him even though they weren't instant soul-mates.

Story #2
In Mayish - or early June perhaps - I was at the grocery store alone (well, Bitsy was with me, so almost alone) while my husband put the other kids to bed. Not entirely uncommon for me, I began chatting with a lady who was shopping in the natural foods aisle - she noted my coconut milk which led to another one of those allergy conversations that seem to follow me around (ironically, this post is actually not about allergies). They were chatty and I'm chatty and so, well, we chatted for a bit.

2 Stories in 1
A little over a week ago I was having a Girl's Night Out with the mom whose son had the party in Story #1. I started to tell her the details of the house we're moving to next month (cause I'm very happily consumed with it right now) and how the landlord told us there is a homeschooling family across the street with three boys. I tried to describe where the neighborhood is located and she told me she has a friend on that street...with three boys...who homeschool. . .yeah, the peanut allergy lady I mentioned above! Believers, homeschoolers, boys, friendly. Wow! I don't need to them be our best friends, I just need nice neighbors, you know? I thought it was so cool. And by telling Little B that he'd actually met one of the kids before, his anxiety about what they were like and meeting them instantly melted away.

Then, this past weekend I sold and shopped at a consignment sale in my small town and ran into the grocery store acquaintance from Story #2. I mentioned that I remembered meeting her and where, and she said she'd been trying to figure out why she thought she knew me - one of those conversation starters. As we talked for a few minutes and a total God-thing happened. . .it turns out she will be my next-door neighbor in a few weeks. A believer, a kind neighbor. . .again - wow.

I am blown away. How long does it often take to get to know your neighbors? And how completely unreal to meet them randomly before you move in? Two of them, at that.

When we found this house, the timing was impeccable. We had not considered moving until a few days prior. The owner thought it had already been listed by his wife or it would have been gone in a heartbeat. Before we saw it, we felt we would move there. When we did see it, we just knew God had it set aside. I have since told my husband that I almost feel our stay in this tiny house has simply been a waiting period for the next one to be available for us. The street is pleasant, quiet and friendly. Only the Lord could possible arrange things like this. It feels like home to us and we cannot wait to move in. Did I mention I can't wait?!

here we go loop-dee-loo

2011-07-08T10:20:00.003-04:00

So.
We're going to move.
AGAIN.
As in - "already!?" I have an easy 16+ bins and boxes that never truly unpacked themselves. . . I kept waiting but no, they are still full. Perhaps emptied and immediately reorganized and refilled in the past year, but not truly left empty. I also have boxes or plastic bins that are open on top and accessible like a shelf (stacked on top of unopened ones) or spilled out into the still-not-really-usable homeschool corner while I find snippets of time to sort them. I suppose the bright side is that my packing is that much further under way.

This house has been a like a transition place for us - as I told my husband, I feel like we've gone through a fire and now we've entered a time of re-growth.

In this transition we have had to ask the owners of this very small, oddly designed farm house circa 1977 to replace the water heater, repair plumbing, fix the kitchen sink once and replace it twice. Being all electric the bill stays relatively consistent - and exorbitantly high. Turns out we had two massive tears in the air ducts that they finally fixed. I cannot wait to see how the bill looks for June's usage. Truly. It should be a breath of fresh air in comparison.

Once we realized how much more we've paid in utilities this year, and got the feeling that bringing this house into a practical and more functional state was a pain for the them, we decided a slightly higher rent for a slightly larger house would work better since the utilities should be considerably cheaper than the past year here. As we began to pray about it, we found a house five-ish miles away, meeting so many of the needs on our heart - a large fenced in back yard, an enclosed 2-car garage for homeschooling, a real dining room, floors that aren't shakey or uneven, more space for the practical living needs of a family of six.

Again, peace took over and we plunged forward with giving our notice and plans to paint and thoughts for how to arrange our world in the new space. We are so excited, but a tiny part of me dreads the upheaval of packing, moving, and resettling. The anxieties of my son are surfacing in spades and I am in need of a gracious attitude and patience towards him.

Foremost in my heart is that the small neighborhood is cozy and gives a friendly yet protective air as you drive down the street. It's older enough to be settled and yet it has families with kids and even three homeschooled boys across the street. Hope rises in me, but I know that can go many directions. So I pray and hope and pray and wait. . .

(We'll have space for guests once more if anyone wants to visit! ;D )

grace

2011-06-15T11:32:00.001-04:00

We took a loooong time to name Bitsy. As in we were down to the final weeks and I wanted to call her Lizzie Grace and my husband wanted to call her Samantha Joy and we were stuck at an impasse. (She is neither, as most of you probably know.) I wanted to name her Grace because we had been through so much last year and my heart felt that we were headed into a year of grace.

As a sweet song I know says, "Grace is simply God Himself, to be our enjoyment" - I am experiencing the enjoyment of my Lord and of my family to depths I have not in a long time. I see and feel His grace in the little things, the big things, the important things, and the insignificant things. I feel completely covered, like an annointing oil poured out upon us, grace has simply poured out over our family.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I wrote this back in April....and never finished tweaking it to post...that's how busy my life is right now! I have edited and deleted from the above because things keep moving on, the details get lost in time, and things don't make sense when the baby has grown and isn't the age I referenced any more - but what I said is true.

I will be painfully honest, though, and tell you that while I am still experiencing much grace, I am in a hard place personally right now as well. On Sunday we were singing a hymn that touched me deeply....part of the second verse is goes like this:

"What He is: He's the river.
He's the mighty flowing river.
He waters me in a desert land.
He's my hiding place. . ."

This is my exact my experience right now. I have to admit that He feels a bit more like a trickle or small stream much of the day, but He is watering me in my desert land right now. With Himself, with His grace. I told my mom today that sometimes when I pray, I cannot even find words, I simply feel. And yet He is hiding me and His grace still pours over me....

on the morning of my 35th birthday

2011-01-10T14:32:00.001-05:00

I planned a post for this morning titled, "it's my birthday and i'll cry if i want to" because over the weekend the baby blues began to creep up on me, my husband was scheduled to return to work this morning and I was terrified of being left with four kids on my own – and with a highly probable snow that they'd want to play in as well – and, well, life felt a little bit like it might spin out of control.

But this morning it was actually a very different story around here. . .

I got snow on my birthday. I'm guessing 4-5 inches which is amazing and highly unusual around here. My whole life I've wanted snow on my birthday (we live far enough South that a skimming or what you saw when Bitsy was born is really a years' supply of snow). I've been happy with flurries at 6am, but today my world was white, beautiful, soft-spoken white of fresh snow.

John's office closed because of the amount of snow (and ice – what we usually end up with) that fell in the night, meaning he's home to play (and he's doing homeschool with Little B in between times….boy howdy, I should get a job and let him be a stay at home dad!). The kids are beside themselves with delight.

Bitsy slept over 9 (yes, NINE) hours last night. I knew she was a good sleeper, but I was floored by that. Apparently, I started doing that at 2 weeks old also. I realize it may not repeat itself, but honestly she's only been waking up once at night anyway, which is just nothing in my book. She is a champ, and so happy. (And growing just fine – she was at an ounce from her birth weight at 1 week, so they didn't even feel a need for a second weight check on her.)

My mother is here helping a bit – I was afraid John would be at work and I'd need another adult with the snow dynamics. Turns out I didn't because there's even a chance he'll be off tomorrow (then working like a madman to meet a deadline the rest of the week – oh boy. . .). Mom and I stayed up a bit last night, chatting after the house was quiet, having muffins and milk and admiring Bitsy.

Today, I've chatted on the phone, had lunch, watched the kids play, put on (maternity) jeans for the first time (they don't hit the incision like I feared, and it's lovely to be in jeans again), and am sipping my most favorite tea in the world, Republic of Tea's Green Tea with Honey and Ginseng. It's been a long time since I bought it but saw it recently and discovered that it's like catching up with an old friend to have an old favorite after a long time. I even have a sizable secret stash of dark chocolate from a friend who sent me a package this past week!

So, if the family can hold their own, I will continue to stay a bit out of the way and perhaps nap. I feel such a selfish creature, but I find I crave the quiet and the lack of stress that goes with staying in my room and caring for a new baby and resting. Wednesday, we have doctor's visits and John will definitely be back at work – so that little bubble with burst into oblivion. I had better rest while I can. . .

the birth of bitsy

2011-01-05T18:10:00.006-05:00

(Oh my....this is horribly long! I'm so sorry. If you barely skim it or just don't read it, I won't be offended. You can peruse the few pictures without reading and keep it easy on yourself - really. At the very least, it documents my journey for ME.)

Let me start by saying that this doesn't "feel" like a birth story because in many ways I do not "feel" like I gave birth. For anyone who has had a vaginal delivery, you are familiar with the heavy post-partum bleeding, the swelling that eases with a newborn diaper full of ice, and the Tucks pads that become almost an addiction. After three such births, these are among the trademark details that define a birth experience to me. Though uncomfortable, they are not really that awful, and are just par for the course in my mind. Bitsy's birth lacks these things. In many ways, I feel as though I just had major surgery (which I did) and simultaneously I'm wondering where my baby girl came from; my mind has trouble connecting the two, apparently. That said, there are still many things about my body that testify to her birth: some bleeding (but wow is it light!), the milk that comes in so fast and so excessively like it has every other time, the uterine cramping with each nursing session, the belly that decreases so dramatically each day (in spite of a ravenous appetite), the back muscles that attest to holding, carrying and nursing a newborn babe. Please don't get me wrong in any of this. I am not regretting my choice and I am not grieving the differences. I am simply wrapping my mind around it, and telling myself that though very different, it is indeed still a birth story. After all, it is about life, fresh and new; it is about the birth of a girl God has placed specifically on this earth. It's not how it happened; it's that it did happen.

I was scheduled to arrive at the hospital at 5:30am Monday morning, with the c-section to start at 7:30am (though my doctor had told me this hospital always starts a few minutes late). He said she would most likely be born before 8:00am. This plan requires leaving my house at 4:45am (yuck). Not that I expected to sleep much the night before anyway – far too much anticipation! My parents and children would have to follow a couple hours later to be there before the birth, which had given us pause because that is so early for little ones. And for my parents. (Yes, I really wanted everyone there when she was born, especially since we could arrange it!) We won't even go into the fact that the week ahead would be stressful on the kids simply because of the changes taking place and mommy not being home. Of course, we all know about plans and mice and men. (Thankfully, no mice were involved in the birthing of this baby.)

In our part of the country, snow only happens once or twice a year. We'd actually gotten flurries and ice two weeks before, so when we experienced a true "White Christmas" (something all the kids in our neck of the woods called a "Christmas Miracle" as they gazed in wonder), we were a bit shocked. The weatherman is usually wrong about such things, and you know they are always hopeful regarding snow on Christmas. I swore they were bluffing. Apparently, I was wrong.

Saturday afternoon found us pondering the potential road conditions for our drive to the hospital. The weather did clear and we likely would have been fine, but there was really no way to be certain of that until too late to change things. And so we figure the Lord actually had His own plans for our Christmas bonus that we got – a hotel next to the hospital! In many ways, this helped change things up and distracted the kids from their anxieties and made a grand adventure of the week. We got a "suite" that provided enough beds for my parent, kids, and us (well, me on the first night anyway). And it had a fridge for all the quirky safe foods we must drag everywhere we go. They stayed 3 nights making shorter, simpler trips for the kids to see their baby sister and me.

(Me, at the hotel, the night before she was born)

Being 3 minutes from parking spot to parking spot, we were only 15 minutes late to the hospital (chronically slow family, what can I say?). Then when we arrived the administrator had to do a bit of extra paperwork that was supposed to have been done when I dropped off my pre-registration. Which led to arriving upstairs fairly late I guess, since they asked at some point when I'd gotten there; the night shift was trying to do all the pre-op stuff before the day shift came on to start the surgery. But you know what? My doctor was later than all the rest of us. So, I had zero guilt. That admin guy, however – it seems that was a common problem so someone else can address him. Ha!

I was taken to an LDR room – Labor, Delivery & Recovery. I changed, got hooked up to monitors, and chatted my nerves away with the nurses who had a million questions. And then. The anesthesiologist arrived. You must understand that in my naïve days BC (before children), I initially looked into natural childbirth simply to avoid an epidural. They terrified me (I believe now that there are many other reasons natural is a good choice, for the record!). Then this particular doctor was making decisions for me ("I think we'll do a spinal on you") – which I did not like. Perhaps being assertive about my choice for an epidural instead, based on what research I had done, helped me work through the rising fear. Once I convinced him I did indeed want the epidural, not the spinal (my choice took longer which clearly was not in his plan), he got started. And my blood pressure went up – they commented on it when it showed on the screen. Ha! I totally expected that. But, it was an excellent opportunity to use the relaxing skills I've obtained during my previous births. Breathe deeply in. Breathe deeply out. Talk through it, distract myself, be sure I am relaxing all of my muscles, and keep breathing deeply.

There was a lively, fun nurse on his staff that held onto me during the epidural. She had the right balance of humor and asking/answering questions. (She was delightful, really, and stayed with me, at my head, the entire time I was in the Operating Room.) So I felt zings and tingling feet and no numbness in my tongue, I felt the cold alcohol wipe in the right places. I was numb on the left but not the right, then slowly, slowly, the right followed suit. It was never quite balanced, though. It is such an odd sensation to feel nothing but my feet and above my belly. Not an experience I care to repeat. But, I will say that receiving the epidural was not as terrifying as I'd expected.

Once it took, I saw one of my two doctors (the one new to the practice, but old friends with my original doctor), who said he was waiting on the other one (the one whose practice I've been a patient of for many years), and he chatted for a moment before saying he'd see me in a few. Eventually, I was laid back and taken to the Operating Room (John would be brought in soon), where we heard the doctor was almost there (this is when I decided I had zero reason to worry about being late – it was now well past the planned time to start). And so the team began doing all kinds of things around me, but I was flat on my back with oxygen in my nose, a screen being pulled up at my armpits and a blanket that blew hot air draped heavily over my arms to keep me warm. I could see nothing of the goings-on and even if I could I doubt I'd remember the details. I was working on that relaxing thing again and feeling teary as I realized it was not long before I'd see my baby girl (and the fact I was about to be cut wide open while wide awake).

Finally, my doctor arrived. He had come in especially for me, at my request. I cannot tell you how much that meant to me. It took that relaxing thing a looong ways. John was brought in a few moments later, and I realized they were already starting. I felt nothing. I can't say I even felt tugging. The epidural was adjusted more than once based on how much I felt or didn't feel. I could smell the cauterizing as they cut into me. I heard odd sounds and many voices. I had my husband by my side, close and reassuring. I asked a million questions about the things I noticed – especially what sounds were. It took a bit longer than they thought because I had an old scar from an abdominal surgery 11 years ago and they had to work through the scar tissue. Eventually, there was a loud squalling and screaming sound, and I double checked to make sure it was her – none of my babies cried at birth, and I could still feel her inside my body. It was indeed her. My sweet Bitsy.

It was 8:13am, clearly not before 8am as "planned" – and later it reminded me that babies come on God's timing, even when they're scheduled. It was comforting to me since I never liked having to "plan" her birth to start with. I love knowing that she was born exactly when He decided. And yes, He did arrange every detail of her birth for me. I rest in that.

They rubbed her down, got her foot prints, and I believe I was finger printed at the same time. Then we got those lovely shots in the previous post with mommy and daddy. But in under 15 minutes she was whisked away to be weighed and meet the rest of her family. John went with her, of course. Leaving me to have my tubes tied and be sewn up. That epidural was going back and forth enough that I was feeling things I didn't like, especially from the left side, so they finally gave me some narcotics that drowsed me in and out the rest of the OR time. Once I was back in the LDR room with my family, I was put on a morphine drip and pump that really spaced me out.

See the green button in my hand? I remember that button now. IF I could remember it while doped up I was allowed to press it every 6 minutes for the additional morphine. Those 6 minutes went by awfully fast. I do remember that the first thing I was encouraged to do once I was in the room was nurse my baby girl. I loved that. I got to hold her and nurse her and love on her before her bath. Then Little B took a video of her bath while I watched from a distance. I loved that, too. What a treasure and what a sweet bonding for him.

I was monitored for a while then moved to a mother-care room. It was on that short journey that I became horribly nauseated from the morphine. It eventually made me so ill I had to have anti-nausea meds. Bitsy and I both slept about 7 hours that afternoon before my doctor came in and told me he'd switch me to Percocet; morphine was never his choice. It was apparently that same anesthesiologist who wanted me to have a spinal. (And a few days later there was another new mom having the same experience, per my nurse. Huh.)

Recovery has been a mixed bag for me. Thanks to Miss C's birth nearly six years ago, a slow, painful recovery is not really a new experience. It's just the location of the pain being so odd in relation. I've had a few odd headaches, but not the baby blues I expected. I feel more mellowed out than I did the entire pregnancy, and much more myself. I'm relieved to be only taking Motrin now, not the stronger pain killer, and I took off the steri-strips today – my doctor does an amazing job and there are no external stitches, much like a plastic surgeon, from what I hear (I even had nurses who commented how great he did). I miss being able to get up and around easier, and I'm thankful John was able to take 2 full weeks off after her birth (plus the long weekend before). I am constantly reminding myself that my turn is coming – John needs to be doing these things while I recover and I need to let him (cooking, cleaning, child-rearing, bringing me things. . .)! I secretly dread being alone with 4 kids on Monday. I know that's several days away, but I feel a bit nervous about just how well I'll be feeling. For now, I will try to take it one day at a time.

introducing bitsy

2010-12-30T02:54:00.004-05:00

The very first moments . . .

Little B pushed his new baby sister from the Labor, Delivery & Recovery Room to the Mother Baby Care Unit.Then he was the first to hold her, outside of Mommy, Daddy and the nurses. He is officially very possessive and does not like to share. I decided that was a million times better than resentful.Miss C and Baby J (who is not so baby suddenly!) are so beyond thrilled with their sister's arrival that it's hard to keep their hands off. And how dare they have to share her with Mommy - does she really have to nurse and get a diaper again??

Sister bonding. Miss C likes to pick out clothes for bitsy, hold bitsy, be mommy to bitsy. . .payback - apparently I was the same toward my younger brother. Ah well - again with loving being better than resentful!

Hmmm....a little thumb sucker like her mommy used to be?

At birth, Bitsy weighed 9lb 3oz and was 19 1/2 inches long. She was born screaming at the top of her lungs, quite literally before she was done delivering!

I will write of her birth later - for the moment, I need to care for bitsy and get some more sleep before morning and the next round of meds are due!

stay tuned!!

2010-12-26T11:38:00.003-05:00

Tomorrow morning is the big day - Little Miss Bitsy will be in our arms, and I am so happy. I cannot wait.

My peace about the c-section has never wavered. It is so clearly God's plan this time, and even my nerves are not nearly as rattled about it as I expected. I'm sure I will have moments of frustration as I heal - I know myself too well to believe otherwise - but I am very much at peace still.

The other peace I have is beginning to make me a tiny bit emotional. I am getting my tubes tied tomorrow morning after Bitsy is born. Moments ago I was feeling her wiggle and kick, rubbing her feet through my belly...and realizing that this is the very last day I will ever be pregnant, holding a life inside of me. It makes me nostalgic and a little sad, but at the same time I know I'm done. I cannot have any more babies - it's too hard, the older I get. It's many other things as well, but I'll leave it at that. So, I'm not exactly excited about the tubal but I am so peaceful.

And TOMORROW I will have my sweet girl.
I want to tell you of her name. But I have not decided if I want to post it on my blog for all the world - I still feel the need to hold some semblence of privacy in this area. Perhaps I will send emails to any of you I have one for. And you're welocme to email and ask me if you want to know and are a regular reader but don't think I have your email. It took us a very, very long time to name her. And she only got a middle name the weekend after Thanksgiving. But we love her name so much and I would be thrilled to share it with you!

So, stay tuned my friends - I want to post pictures of her sweet self this week (while I sit abed in the hospital, I hope!).

(PS - I've read many of your blogs but I have not commented much as this has just been a hectic year for us. Also, I have fought exhaustion and insomnia for the past month. So I've not really been around, and I'm sure adding a 4th child to this crazy household will keep me busier than I can imagine, but you are NOT forgotten!)

out of the mouths of babes

2010-11-19T10:04:00.003-05:00

The other night when I was dropping Miss C off at AWANAS, my daughter's leader pulled me aside to tell me a short story:

The previous week during prayer request time, Miss C wanted to pray for her mommy because "she is having a baby in December and it's not coming out the bottom way."

Just lovely. The leader laughed and said that they just moved quickly on to the praying. I'll take all the prayer I can get. But that wasn't where I expected it to come from. . .

writing things

2010-11-18T09:10:00.003-05:00

Writing of any kind is a pain in our homeschool world. And so I've been trying to find some new ways to approach it and keep it from being quite so painful.

I have found some free samples at Currclick (I get an email every week from them that tipped me off) that offer work with penmanship, specifically the Thanksgiving Cursive CopyBook - not the creative writing, but writing nonetheless. Little B is still in the learning curve with cursive, though not doing too badly. I want to find a way to encourage him to improve it without totally driving him crazy. And so this particular method seems to please him because first he traces a couple of sentences then writes it on his own. And it's only a a few lines, not what feels like an overwhelming amount of writing - though in my book he has easily gotten enough practice to make it worthwhile. If you open it and scroll through, you'll see blank pages as well as the copywork. I'm only printing the ones where he copies what he's traced.

From this same site, I also found similar work in these: Human Body Sample (it's fascinating and well done and I'm considering buying all three volumes (.50 each or $1.50 together), not just sticking to the sample....be aware they discuss reproduction at the end of this sample, should you try it....always a good head's up! ;D ). Fifty States Copywork is quite similar and also can be purchased in a bundle or as several separate volumes (links on that page).

But then there is creative writing. Something I love but am not good at and hardly know how to culture because Little B gets so frustrated or doesn't know what to write or is bored with the things we find (very hard to motivate a 9 year old boy at times, yet when wants to, he is darn good at it!). Until this. Granted, we're just finishing the first week (okay, I am not done, he is...the teacher has to participate...which is good for me!), but I'm pleased. And Little B is pleased so far. We'll see how it goes, but he's excited about it and looking forward to it. As am I.

i promised

2010-11-12T13:51:00.003-05:00

I have promised for months now to post some belly pictures. So here you go; enjoy these while I'm too tired to think of anything else to post this weekend....

decisions

2010-11-04T08:00:00.000-04:00

I have been in the throes of making a major decision the past few weeks. A decision that I'd not had time to give much thought to until recently. And it's huge for me.

As anyone who has been reading my blog very long might know, I'm an advocate of all-natural, drug-free birth. Organic, so to speak. ;D I believe in the very essence of it, every reason given for it, and every good thing it is and does for the baby being born. I believe that almost any woman willing to take the time to learn how she can best work with her body and educate herself on the many aspects of childbirth is capable of doing this. Yes, there are circumstances that require a different approach, but they should not and are not really the majority. They are the exception to the rule.

And I have become that exception to the rule, deciding to go with a cesarean for my little girl's safety. My heart is saddened that I won't have one last natural birth. But to be fair, my births never went the way they "should" go - and as history has proven, this came at a high price once. Almost too high. It was only after my 3rd baby was born that I realized all three of my births had resulted in shoulder dystocia - the very reason that Miss C suffered such traumatic injury at her birth.

When I found out I was pregnant, I had immense peace. God has a plan for this little one and even knows how her birth will go. So I did not give it much thought at the time. Then we moved and we have had so much else going on for the past few months that her birth was far removed from my mind. Until I hit my third trimester an realized that the time had come to give it serious thought. And immediately I had a check within - a strong sense that I had decisions to make.

Yesterday I spoke with an old friend of the family - who used to be a Labor & Delivery nurse. She is also a Christian. And as soon as I told her I had been feeling a check about this birth, she reminded me that as a Christian this is how the Lord speaks, and as a mom I know my body and I know to listen to it. She told me that in that one sentence she felt I needed to have a cesarean. And my heart was completely at peace about it for the first time. I was leaning that way anyhow, but it was a confirmation for me.

A difficult decision for me, but one that was right. And God will be with me and my baby in this birth as with my other births.

keeping up with the jones'

2010-10-15T13:22:00.003-04:00

It appears that my method of keeping current with all my favorite blog reads appears to be shutting down at the end of the month (that would be Bloglines, so if I'm mistaken, feel free to correct me). I have the cream of the crop listed on a sidebar of my own blog, but there are more that I like to access - food blogs, home school blogs, blogs that rarely post (even more rarely than me!), etc.

I want to know: how do you keep up with the blogs you read? I've seen a couple options, but I want to know what you like and why . . . do tell!

just beachy

2010-10-13T10:25:00.011-04:00

(Picture disclaimer: I've got more pictures on my camera phone but uploading those is not quite so simple; and I was apparently the main photographer, therefore you are denied the opportunity to see a 3rd trimester belly in a swimsuit. So there.)

We had our first true vacation in over three years this past weekend. We indulged in four nights at the beach - the hotel was clearly a bit older, had horribly lumpy mattresses (hello sciatica that was almost all gone!), one 5am little roach critter that I chose to ignore once he was dead and gone, and not so great free continental breakfasts (canned juice and so-so bagels, though the brand of blueberry muffins they served were dairy- and nut-free, making for two superbly happy kids, so that redeemed itself at least a bit); BUT it was clean, it had amazingly wonderful hot showers (I think this is my favoritest thing about hotels in general - their massive amount of scalding hot water), and a kitchenette (a specific need for us since we didn't need nor want the stress of eating out every meal with so many kids and all the allergies).

And tying for first place with the hot water heater (okay, maybe the hot water is second, but only by a hair) - we were beachfront. NO sand in the van. Just in the swimsuits (ick). We had a little balcony overlooking the pool and ocean, we had enough beds for all of us, and we just went down and walked out onto the sand each day. That made my beach experience exponentially better than any other I've had. (Whereas I loved going up to the room to get something I forgot with no worries, frustrations, or tears...as well as simply arriving at the beach when you get to the back of the building you're in.) Conversely, I loathe loading a car with sandy toys and towels and bodies to driv a mere mile or two to the hotel. Of course, it's a little hard to get sand in the van when the van is not with you anyway.....

We left several hours late for our trip (10pm instead of 6 or 7pm as we'd planned). Which put us arriving at our destination just after 4am. Lots of coffee and Grandparents who came to play with the kids while I packed and napped made all the difference in the world that day. (Or I might have given up trying to go on vacation altogether.) As we arrived in town, a mere 15 minutes from the hotel, I turned a corner and suddenly the check engine light came on and the transmission would not find the right gear. It took at least 20 minutes, maybe more, to arrive. The engine never stopped making it's horrible revving sound.

After a few hours of sleep and once the kids were awake and fed, we took them down to the sand for a few minutes - sans swimsuits because John desperately needed to find a mechanic. As pregnant as I amI was NOT chasing kids on the beach. No way no how. Once we got back into the room I implemented the endless handheld games and TV and coloring rule. Which is still not as fun as the beach you can see outside your window. Such a mean mommy. Who was stressed out because the first mechanic sent him to Mr. Transmission who said we definitely needed the transmission rebuilt pronto. And it would not be ready until Tuesday (we were set to return home early Monday morning . . . ha! It was almost the end of business on Tuesday before they were done). So, we arranged to stay an extra day - nothing like the extended vacation. And there were absolutely NO rental cars available in the city, even at the airport. Thankfully, they were able to dig up a loaner for us - nothing like a tight squeeze in the back seat for the kids, but they were champs. And at least we didn't have a lot of driving to do. The lack of rental cost was a real blessing, though.

And I must say that in all of it, I saw God's hand: we broke down arriving in town, not halfway, and not before the trip. We got to stay an extra day. He knew all along that this was going to happen. And how much it would cost. He even pushed us to on the trip in the first place - and do it where we didn't have to drive to the ocean each day! No, I have no doubt His hand was upon us during the entire experience. (In spite of the hormonal stress and tears of the third trimester.)

I guess that we won't need that transmission fluid changed before the end of the year like I'd been told when I had the car checked out two days before the trip. . .

open brings forth open

2010-10-07T08:26:00.004-04:00

As opposed to last year when we deliberately avoided all home school groups, I have joined not one but two this year. (And, we put Little B in Awanas where he has already found a new bestest-kind of buddy!)

One group is a co-op style that meets every Friday except for the first Friday of the month (that day is reserved for field trips). The regular Fridays consist of Art, PE, Health, lunch and a social skills group led by an occupational therapist for a fraction of a fraction of the cost of what I'd find anywhere else. So far, we've been once and Miss C is in love with it and Little B will hopefully warm up a bit more to it. Baby J has his own little group to hang out with as well and so far he's okay. There is one lady I'm not real sure of in there, so we'll see. If it goes south, we'll just move on. And I'm good either way. I'll take it for what it is right now.

The other group is a lovely collection of Christian ladies who come together once a month at some one's home for a mom's time - late evening, snacks, fellowship, prayer, and support. Then they get the kids together for a field trip once a month as well. I went to the mom's group for the first time this week, and I knew one person which is very hard for me. The evening's topic was "grumbling and complaining" - each lady was encouraged to bring a tip, book, suggestion, verse, etc, that could be applied to the grumbles and complaints that arise in a home school setting. I had nothing. Nada. My situation goes so far beyond 'grumbling and complaining' that at first I was uncertain I should have even attended.

I arrived a little late, but that was more of a social time, not the group discussion, so what I really missed was filling out a card that told of an "aha moment" in my homeschooling. When my friend handed me a card, I looked at her, stricken, and said, "I don't know that I have one...we haven't even started really. I've done like three days of school so far!" Her response was that maybe that is what I had to share. The cards had been put into a basket and one person drew them out, read them and had everyone see if they could guess who wrote each one. As they went through the basket of cards, I sat pondering what I could say. I finally went last, winging it.

I want to insert here that I've been reading a book called "Shut up about your perfect kid" by Gina Gallagher & Patricia Konjoian. It's written by two sisters who each have a high needs daughter - one with Asperger's and one with bi-polar disorder. But the book is about coping and adjusting and dealing with the struggles that arise - and it references many other special/high needs, not just these two. One of the premises of what they share is how open they are with the struggles they face in handling their children's needs. They discovered that the more open they were, the more open others were in sharing their struggles as well. And the more open everyone was, the less of a stigma and the more manageable each struggle became. I find it very refreshing, and an easy, humorous read. In many ways, I see struggles so much bigger than my own that I feel reassured, too. One of my favorite stories was when one author was in the grocery store, waiting in a long line at the deli, and someone came up announcing loudly, "Hey! Guess what, I'm bipolar!" - she was secure in her struggle because she knew she had support and those who understood. Precious!

So, back to my story. . .as I pondered what to share, I knew I needed to let my guard down, but also preserve the dignity of my son and the fact that we don't fully understand everything going on with him yet. I weighed this with not wanting the other moms to be afraid of letting their kids play with him. I was glad I was able to speak last. I shared openly about why we started homeschooling, that last year was a pretty good year, that we'd barely schooled this year because the summer has been such an intense one and that our grumbling and complaining went beyond the average - that my son needs professional help (a hard thing to 'fess up to in front of 15 women you've never met!). And my aha moment was that I have the space and grace to adjust what I need how I need to meet his needs: be it curriculum or schedule or something else. It was good (and hard - I loathe the center of attention in groups that size, even when I know them....I was flushed from the effort!). I didn't feel criticized. And later, two different moms came up and were open with me - one specifically about a daughter's struggles and the other just saying that it sounded like we could easily get together and discuss our son's needs. I honestly hardly knew how to respond, but saw the opportunity for so much more in the year to come.

Open brings forth open.
In amazing ways.

13

2010-10-04T11:09:00.002-04:00

Today marks 13 years with my love.

My husband and I were chatting this morning (on the phone as he drove....a favorite past time of ours), and he commented that he was sorry that our anniversary fell in the midst of such hard times - namely all the 'stuff' that we've been coping with for the past several months. Honestly, our years have never been simple or easy, peppered heavily with his schooling, deaths in the family (when it would rain, it would pour), and most definitely the struggles of our sweet children - the hardest of things to bear.

But I look back and would not trade a single one of those years. I would not trade the tough times, because they made us stronger; I would not trade the sad times for they made us closer; I would not trade the struggles for they made each achievement sweeter.

I commented on something along those lines, though not so explicitly. And he knew what I meant, agreeing. I then thought back 12 years to our first anniversary. I was going through medical treatment for my endometriosis that put me in a drug-induced menopause - I can tell you here and now I would not trade this year for that year ever. He very quickly agreed as I mentioned it (and yes, we know that true menopause is not so many years away, but we'll take it when it comes, and not a day sooner, thankyouverymuch). Besides, 12 years ago we did not have our sweet little people (who, I have begun noticing, do not stay quite so little....) and life is much richer with them.

I may have had a tough summer and be bracing myself for what could lie ahead - there are many unpredictable turns with Little B's issues and Miss C's allergies and a new baby in the mix - but I love that in the midst of these days I am celebrating 13 years of sharing this life with the man I love so much. I am thankful that our anniversary falls in the midst of it all, for it's a wonderful reminder that tough or not, life is still very good. Very good indeed.

booked

2010-09-27T19:52:00.002-04:00

Peace has returned to our home for the most part. Little B is far more himself than he has been in a long time, and I am so glad to have him around again. There are definitely some 'moments' still, but much fewer and farther between. I breathe thanks by the moment to my Lord for this. Truly - I do not say this smart-alecky in the least. It is now a temporary, resolvable issue versus an evolvable (no, not a word, but it sounds good) issue that begins upon waking. I can breathe again.

And my iron levels were low, apparently, which no doubt added to the exhaustion I felt, the depression that rose like bile, and my general inablility to get anything done. I had run out of my preferred prenatal vitamins (from a health food store, IN A CAPSULE so I did not have to taste or smell them) and just never got back to said store to replenish (and meat has been less appetizing than usual, which no doubt contributed). When the glucose test came back normal and the hemoglobin was not, I was on the verge of a lecture from the nurse and she was making sure I had a prescription for my vitamins. I really don't get why your vitamins should come from a pharmacy when you're pregnant. Sheesh. Anyway, my wonderful husband picked some up on his way home from work the next day, and I've been a good little pregnant girl about taking them each night. You're welcome.

I still feel so content in the deep places of my heart from my wonderful trip to the beach - and now we're planning a dessert and coffee night hopefully this weekend. Much smaller scale, but how refreshing to at last have some friends who make the time for this - for all of us, not about me per se.

And, and the heels of my trip, my beach-loving husband jumped all over my idea to go as a family if we could find decent rates. So, we're booked. And not just two or even three nights, but four nights away from home for my deserving family. It's been a few years since we took a vacation and the thrill is running high for everyone. We'll be staying beach-front, so no sand in the van (which is even worse than sand in my swimsuit!). Kites, sandcastles, pool, hotel with a kitchenette, sunscreen galore. . .

For the first time, a vacation on the horizon doesn't feel threatening or stressful - because I had my vacation first. Now, I can help the family have a good time. My husband was gracious enough to actually understand that. Good man, that one. He deserves some sand time, that much I know.

the rest of the week

2010-09-16T11:30:00.000-04:00

On Sunday evening John came to pick me up from my friend's home. He parked in the cul-de-sac, van loaded with sleeping children (Little B stayed one last night with my parents), and walked down to get me and my things. As we carried my bags and pillows back to the van a couple of minutes later, there was an incredibly foul odor that met us. We had no idea where it came from, but it appeared to blow away with the windows down for a moment. The relief was short-lived however, as it kept returning. . .

Upon arriving home, my hubby took a flashlight out and looked for dead animal remains - that kind of foul! When no evidence was found, he checked all my fluids and discovered I was out of oil. I am overdue for an oil change, but normally that should not empty it out. My poor van is burning oil, though, so that exasperated the situation. Assuming the odor was a lack of oil, he added what he had on hand (enough to bring it to minimum) and went to bed.

The next day, going to hear Bitsy's heartbeat (she has no name yet), the odor was still going strong. A stop at the mechanic made for a longer day than planned, and they were too busy to see us. One of the kind employees checked it out to make sure I was safe to drive, though. He discovered fur under the exhaust. So it WAS a dead animal! Then, they added another quart or so of oil, free of charge. (And, yes, I was thankful for the odor since that's how we discovered we were out oil.)

Monday finished up late after an allergy-safe food stop (specifically, Whole Foods for multiples of things we can't find anywhere else) and meeting my parents to pick up Little B. One car wash later and we were slightly less offended by the odor coming from my engine.

Tuesday was the big day, though. I took Little B to a new, in-between, psychiatrist. His meds have clearly needed some adjusting, but we were on a cancellation list for the doctor on our insurance plan. After consulting with our pediatrician, the new office, and current psychologist, the choice was made to try someone in the old office where his records are current (the previous doctor is no longer there). Could there be any more people involved in this? Yes, actually - I kept it simple for you here.

So, some changes have been made, a new diagnosis given, the old one thrown away, and this mommy's heart is feeling deeply hopeful that what is probably a placebo effect of knowing he's on meds to help things will transition smoothly into a better-functioning little boy. There is still a part of me that isn't totally throwing out the old diagnosis just yet. The new one makes me very sad, but at the same time it fits so well. We'll follow up next week to see how he's doing. When we see the new doctor (that has a co-pay, not full cost out of pocket), it will be interesting to see how her opinions line up with everything else we're hearing. I can tell you this: the right doctor is crucial. No matter the cost.

beach talk

2010-09-15T07:43:00.003-04:00

I am back. And have not stopped feeling like the big pink rabbit that calls itself the Energizer Bunny yet. As soon as I got home, the van had problems (literally, on the way home, but that's for another post), doctors appointments were waiting each day and there were plenty of other things to keep me busy - and only right now have I stopped and remembered that I need to tell you of my trip...

My lovely trip started early on Friday morning - as in we loaded up all the kids to take me to my friend's home before 8am. I was jittery and excited and my wonderful husband could barely keep up with my chatter-box jibber-jabber. My oldest spent a long weekend with my parents and my younger two had some glorious Daddy Days that they are still talking about and savoring.

On the 6-ish hour drive to the ocean I talked to my two friends. But not just talked. I mean poured out my heart and soul like purging drugs from one's body. I was headachey and shaky and felt like I was detoxing from the stress of the past months. I had compassionate ears and loving hearts in these two women, both moms of boys about my son's age. And so I poured and poured and poured out. I do not know how they tolerated it. Yes, I listened as well, and it was conversational, but I did a lot LOT of talking. If they were not such precious Godly women who listened so willingly, I'd have felt bad about it. But they at least acted like they wanted to hear what I desperately needed to talk about. I assure you, there is no human counselor or psychologist or other therapist-type who could begin to meet the need they met for me. They had insights that not all peers could offer, as well.

Once we settled into the 20th floor condo overlooking the pristine ocean, I found time alone in my room to lay across my bed - thinking surely I needed a nap. But no slumber would find me. Instead my eyes slowly leaked tears as I was able find words to speak to my Heavenly Father for the first time in weeks. It was not that I'd been angry at Him, or resisting Him, or ignoring Him. Quite the contrary. I needed Him desperately and knew it. I have just not had words that I could utter. I needed the Spirit to intercede for me. My eyes would glaze over when I would open my Bible. My world was so insanely complicated I was lost. I could hear my mom pray on the phone with me and I'd weep in pain for my son's needs and a longing to help him and fix whatever was wrong, but no words could fall from my mouth.

I intended to take my Bible with me on this trip, but I forgot. And honestly, I just loved being still and knowing God in those moments, rather than trying to play catch-up on months of reading. He came to me, He met me, He had been with me all along - which I knew - but I felt His presence so closely it ached.

We ate a ritzy restaurant that first night, created to feel like a balcony setting with outdoor lights and phenomenal food. The kind of place you might see the President at (apparently, he ate there once). And then we sat up very, very late and talked girl talk and laughed ourselves silly before succumbing to the sleep that was grabbing at us.

The next morning, we took our lazy time with breakfast and coffee and getting ready for the beach. Then we sat before the vast ocean, collected shells, talked, avoided jelly-fish, and talked some more (they swam or jogged, I waded in a tiny bit, but I'm not an ocean-lover, just a feet-digging-into-sand-while-watching-the-ocean-lover). We left the chairs and umbrellas while going inside for some lunch then meandered back out when we were ready, doing more of the same. After we'd had our fill, we took our time cleaning up, chatting, and getting ready to head out for souvenirs and dinner (I absolutely had to find fun things for my kids). King Crab was the theme of the night, which had been my pick since I never get crab any more. It takes too long to finish while the kids are sitting by waiting impatiently. Another late night with silly talk and serious talk and droopy eyelids followed.

Sunday morning we slept in (mostly me), cleaned up the condo, had some Starbucks, and did the rest of the souvenir shopping before heading home. Decadent is all I can say. I succeeded in getting the requisite souvenir shirts, sharks tooth/sea shell necklaces, ball cap for the hubby, and some changes-colors-in-the-sunlight fun stuff for the kids (rings, key chains, nail polish). I even saw some amazing prices at the hotels down that same strip and we're going to check the budget to see if we can swing a few day at the beach with the kids soon.

We arrived home drowsy and content - the kids were asleep and I could barely unpack my bag. Another day would have been heavenly, but it was nice be with my husband, kiss my the faces of my sweet kids and sleep in my own bed.

I have felt hopeful this week - crazy busy and longing/looking for the right help for my son, but hopeful for the first time, not just beaten down with endlessly trying. I think we're on the road to some answers, though it will still take a bit of time to be sure it's the right road. In the meantime, I'm ready to keep trying rather than throw in the towel.

all about moi

2010-09-02T09:19:00.001-04:00

After reading a friend's post about her in-laws taking her kids for a night, I was pondering how I could get away from MY kids overnight. Baby J is not quite ready to be left with someone other than us, so it limits the options a lot – and means I can't have a night "alone" with my husband. I daydreamed for a bit about going away with a friend for a night or two, but promptly dismissed such thoughts because I can't afford a hotel plus food for two or three days.

A mere few hours later, my waiting room friend and I were chatting on the phone. Her son receives physical and speech therapy several times a week among other routine things as he had a brain tumor that left him with many deficiencies. Beneath the outward disabilities, he is so smart and warm and friendly. It's hard to imagine watching your son deteriorate and then struggle to relearn the very basics in life, but that is exactly what this friend has gone through since we met. Needless to say, there are plenty of heartaches and pity parties available, and she and I make good sounding boards for each other. On this particular day, she had called to tell me that she wanted to invite me and two other friends to her condo at the beach in Panama City for a weekend away fairly soon. I could barely contain myself waiting for John to get home and hear his reaction…and had to force myself not to interrupt his work day with it. Once he as home and I spilled my hopefulness onto the table, he promised to find a way to work it out - that I needed to go. How thankful I am for a husband who sees this need right now!

So, a week from tomorrow I'm headed to the beach.

Without kids.

For two nights.

With 2 or 3 nice ladies for company.

Costing me only some of my meals and pitching in for gas.

I plan to make some large batches of normaly, yummy, NOT-allergy-friendly cookies to take along and share with everyone.

And there will be plenty for me to overindulge in. Freely.

(And I desparately hope nothing messes this up now that I've told people about it….because, well….I WANNA GO!!)

and we're having a . . .

2010-08-16T16:42:00.002-04:00

Yesterday marked the halfway point in my pregnancy, though we all know this baby IS showing up before the 40 week mark. So, I suppose I'm beyond the halfway point now. Which works just fine for me. Although someone did think I was 7 months along over the weekend....!

And today was that ultrasound that gives it all away: we're having another girl!

2010-08-12T17:27:00.003-04:00

I didn't get back to tell you about the million and one things going on in our lives and the pictures I promised are not taken because a certain someone was using my desk key and locked it into the desk where the camera is. Once we get it open again, he can go ride his bike and take lots of animal pictures for me to post.

But as to why I haven't been back on here. . .where to start?
My son is not doing well. The changes, the new routines that aren't fully routine yet, the newness in general, the probability of needing meds changed...
My daughter has been having varying allergic reactions to foods and dryer sheets and mystery things about twice a week...
My mischief maker is still being mischievous...
My smallest one is slowly making it's presence known with subtle movements and large belly (one of those pics I mentioned will be a belly shot, okay?). I have to slow down because the stress around the house has me worrying about the baby....
And me, I'm just a blubber face in the midst of it all. No longer coping on any level, and now faced with tough decisions.

As in, I want to home school my kids. I find it rewarding, even on the hard days. And less stressful than worrying about my son's behavior in public school or my daughter's potential allergic reactions because of carelessness in a classroom (which is frighteningly common).

But today when I expressed the concern about the stress and the baby to Little B's psychologist, she immediately suggested putting him back in public school for at least one term while we finish getting settled. I'm not sure how I feel about it. She told me she'd bring it up to him, which is fine - when I suggested it recently (quite seriously) his eyes bulged and his nostrils flared and he was appalled, acting as though I'd suggested he be thrown in jail.

On the way home, he brought it up, saying he wanted to try. I really like the psychologist, but am not overly happy with some of the things she said to encourage this. As we talked, he wavered back and forth: public, home, public, home. . .I told him he needed to make a list for each and to pray.

I understand that his last year's experience is something he needs to overcome, but really it's more than a year - it's all his years. And I understand he could potentially make more friends, but he could potentially be an outcast and desperately lonely and angry, something I find more likely with his history. I also understand that he would need special classes and have more hours of actual work. I know the battles that used to ensue about homework. There will be so much more in 4th grade. And if he goes, I will not fight him over it. I'd rather let him fail. Call me a lousy mother. I'm beyond caring at the moment.

And I know that I would have fewer hours of one on one stress with him for a while. Which is the one and only upside to enrolling him in my book. I confess: I don't find him very likable right now. I'd rather lay in my bed and weep than talk to him or look at him. I hate myself for feeling that way.

I have his new Sonlight books for our home school year. I have the current math we're partway through ready to resume, as well as the free online Spanish lessons, the typing course planned for the computer we are supposed to buy in a couple weeks. I've got a homeschool group we're planning to join with friends we already know. I have a cool writing class online that I want to enroll him in for 8 weeks - though he hates 'controlled writing' - I simply said he'd always be average and never excel in it if he couldn't learn to listen and follow directions....and that's his choice. The thing is - he has amazing potential. Amazing. It kills me to see the lazy streak so strong. But he has to choose for himself, too. So many things I look forward to, things I can tweak at home, that will be set in stone in school.

But I need to pray. And listen. And curl up and sleep for 100 hours. Maybe when I wake up someone else will have made the decisions for me.

the good, the bad, and the not-too-ugly

2010-07-24T19:09:00.002-04:00

We finally made the move one week ago.

I had prayed and pleaded with the Lord to send enough help – I was absolutely unable to get it all done and worried how that would affect the move – I asked for packing help as well as moving help. I am humbled by the sheer number of people who came to help us – and not just by how many, but by who they were. They were family, they were life-time friends who worked out their schedule to be here, they were old high school friends we had not seen since graduation, and they were even the spouses of people we knew just a little bit! Some stayed from early until late, barely taking a break to eat, some had to leave early and others showed late. There was a constant rotation of fresh hands to help those who never left. My neighbor commented on just how much help we got when she brought over fresh tea and warm blueberry muffins. I had one family keep my older kids overnight, a few helping me finish the packing on the last two days and the rest were an endless cycle of moving furniture and boxes and kindness. I maintain that I do not know of any way to truly express the gratitude I feel. Blessings were poured out upon us by over a dozen people on Friday and Saturday.

As for the rest:

The hot water only lasts a few minutes from scalding to frigid in five, baby. Surely that is something that can be tweaked, but even if not, it GETS WONDERFULLY HOT FOR ME!

The people at the phone company totally messed us over. Repeatedly. They finally got it set up Thursday, but we were a breath from eliminating them altogether and finding some other solution for our needs. We're still in consideration, so if you have tips on how to accomplish it inexpensively, do tell! (We don't really care about cable, just a phone and internet…)

In the move, I lost my new bottle of asthma meds.

But I got a month's supply of samples from the doc, so that worked out to my advantage, really.

One of my kind friends or family helping me pack managed to pack up a little Fed Ex envelope that had Little B's completed Iowa Test of Basic Skills – due back with a postmark no later than July 19 (two days after the move). We have not found it yet. He finished it a day or two before the move, so it's not like we'd just been hanging on to it needlessly, and we had planned to send it the day after he finished….we just got so busy packing we overlooked that detail.

The company I ordered the ITBS from was very nice about the test being MIA and told me not to stress, she'd note it in the file, and to send it when we find it. I do want it found soon, though – no need to push the limits in such things. Excellence in customer service, no doubt.

My parents gave me a stackable washer and dryer for the new house.

I sold my old washer and gave away my old dryer a few days before the move, after doing tons and tons of laundry which I thought was close to caught up.

The new one had a different plug that needed switching out, so it was not ready the night we moved in like I'd counted on, and not the next day either. Double oops.

It's working now, and I have clean clothes again, even though Baby J wore trunks one day when I could not find shorts for him. I'm sure they're here someplace…

There is a LOT to do around here – I don't mind doing it, but the kids are going nuts with things out of sorts and that slows me down which in turn keeps them nuts longer. Sigh. Oh, sweet routine, where are you?

Little B has huge amounts of acreage to ride his bike on once the summer camps are done for the day – we got 2-way radios to keep track of him which provides him more freedom. He needs it fiercely at the moment.

I had my 16 week prenatal visit last week. I measured five – count them, F I V E weeks bigger (yes, that means I look 21 weeks pregnant). Apparently, that's because the uterine muscle gets bigger with each pregnancy, but still, it's a tad worrisome for a lady who's noted for her big babies….just sayin'.

I think I'm cute pregnant – all belly. And I'm not feeling sick anymore! Someone must have been praying for me to feel better, because in the past I have always felt sick until at least the halfway mark.

That's all folks. For now, anyway, because I'm sure I'll find more to say soon. And I'll try to put up a few pictures of the horse in our yard at the very least.

missing you

2010-07-11T08:44:00.003-04:00

I'm just stopping by here to say 'hi' to all of you, my bloggy-friends....I'm missing you and my little world here. I barely catch up on your posts and have nothing to write recently. It's the busyness, overwhelmedness, migraines, stress and miscellany of packing. Which I still think is nearly impossible with three kids underfoot. My parents were able to come play with the kids yesterday (huge box stacks and forts, etc) while John and I finally felt like we got something accomplished. Though I don't think I did that much. I do know he worked hard all day. We move THIS week. Saturday morning. I am desperately thankful my husband took off Thursday, Friday and Monday surrounding the move. I find I'm still purging as I'm packing and I bet I purge more as I unpack in the weeks ahead. Because I cannot figure where much of this will fit.

In the midst of it of it all, I'm now 15 weeks pregnant and blossoming quickly. The maternity pants came out over a month ago and the shirts have followed suit the past few weeks. I noticed as I carried a larger-but-not-too-heavy box yesterday that it wasn't as easy as I expected....the belly keeps it just far away enough from my body for it to be comfortable. Better than than in 3 more months, right?

See you later, ladies.....probably once we're settled a bit.

crunch time

2010-06-28T11:40:00.004-04:00

So the garage sale was a massive hit - better than we'd hoped for! Stuff was selling before we could get it pulled out of the garage and set out. Which meant less to set up, though in reality there was still a lot. And all the leftovers that I don't plan to attempt to consign fit into the van around the three kids and made it to Goodwill already. The rest I'm hoping to sell at the big twice a year consignment sale...or give it to someone who would enjoy it.

I even sold the trampoline and 4 pieces of furniture! But there is still a LOT of furniture left to part with. Craigslist is my obsession this week. The table and chairs, the train table and a chest of drawers have all found new homes. But it's so not nearly all of it. In the meantime, these non-responders and no-shows are grating my nerves something fierce! I'm not a fan of giving out my address to start with, but they should have the courtesy to tell me if they changed their mind at least!

The biggest crunch, though....we move this month. Mid-month. As in the 17th. Barely two weeks away. Today a friend came with her kids and while the madness ensued around us, she sat on my kitchen floor with me while I purged through the excess of pots and pans and baking trays that consumed the cupboards. She listened while I pondered and reasoned. She supported my thought process. Do you have any idea the value of such help? She didn't have to pack but she sure helped me figure out what I needed by listening to me consider that the Pampered Chef stoneware is not only too heavy but also not washable with soap and therefore a bit impractical given our many food allergies and blah blah blah. Things long over due to be reasoned out. Then she put the items into the "stay" pile or the "out" pile. That, my friends, is what I desperately need as I purge and pack this house in the next two weeks.

Of course, the laughter (and bits of fighting) that rocked the house was beautifully reminiscent of our childhood together as well....savory seasoning to any kind of day.

garage sale

2010-06-25T07:50:00.002-04:00

T minus 22 days and counting til the big move. That I do not feel remotely prepared for.

T minus 1 day and counting til the big garage sale. That I do not feel remotely prepared for. Well, a little bit on that one, but there is still SO much I need to do.

We went to our new house a little while back and measured all of it - every wall, window, door and air vent (well, hubby says those weren't so accurate, more 'eyeballed', so it's only sort of helpful, but he did work hard on everything else).

Then, we measured every piece of furniture in our current house to see what will fit and what won't. There's a whole graph-paper rendition of the house and little cutouts to scale of the furniture. Cause we're nerds like that. We will all be switching our our dressers and such, and some pieces (like a large TV cabinet) will get new jobs (like becoming a home school shelf, unless perchance it sells).

And anything that doesn't fit must go. PRONTO. Little B has worked hard to purge his room. He's got a medium box of things to sell plus a couple bigger items. For him, that's paramount. Miss C just can't part with anything, but she doesn't know how much mommy purged 6 months ago, so I'm not really upset. And they will be hosting a grand lemonade stand which I hope will be a huge hit. Lemonade, cookies (that both are allergic to, but felt would sell well...Keebler fudge striped cookies), and discounts for veterans/military/police/fire. That touched my heart. Little B thinks deep.

But there is still furniture in the bonus room that needs to come down and a hodge podge pile of things that need a heavy sorting to hit the sale. I had 2 friends (with their 2 yr old daughters) come Tuesday to help - one watched all the kids and the other helped me clean some animal cages, an exersaucer, and somewhat make more space in the garage - not to worry, she's about 10 days more pregnant than me, so we were extra careful. :) I did sell some things to her and a friend of hers, so that was less to haul down and set up...more space for the rest.

I also forgot to list the sale on Craigslist last night and the signs are not ready to be put in the ground yet. Pricing is still vague in my head. I need to clear the current home school shelf a.k.a. baking rack and buy the lemonade for the sale. I have to corral the kids who are already super cranky at 8am and find maternity shorts to wear tomorrow (I have 3 pair of pants and a few shirts....not gonna cut it in this heat). The lemonade is still at Wal Mart and the table for the stand is still in the house.

My husband is working today. All day. Good thing I recognized I wouldn't be ready for the sale today.......sigh.

Oh yeah. Gotta home school today. Part of which is the business plan and sign for the lemonade stand because that is good, hands on learning. But OH, so much to do.

chickens and donkeys and goats oh my!

2010-06-10T10:35:00.000-04:00

We finally settled on a pet idea that made everyone happy and the 'no pet' landlords didn't have an issue with: guinea pigs. They can be outdoors during the milder months and are at least a moderate 'playmate'; a second one would be reasonable for Miss C (and keeps the first from being too lonely). The only hold up was waiting until we were settled in a new house. And that is tough for a kid, I know.

And then.
We found the new house. Quite unexpectedly.

It was a situation of too much stress trying to figure out where the Lord wanted us. Satan was attacking with frustration and our bodies were worn out from driving hours on end looking around, and having lack of peace with every single place we saw or area we considered. We decided to wait a week or two and just be carefully watchful, but not too aggressive - a break was necessary. So, we checked listings in the paper and Craigslist, contemplated and sighed. Then yesterday morning on Craigslist I saw a something that fell just beneath our hopeful rent budget - I'd prayed the Lord would be so clear and find a way to meet our needs for an affordable house, 3 bedrooms, 2 potties, and at least a corner to home school in. (A fence was a strong safety preference given my toddler's tendencies to wander.) I also prayed for peace that would leave no doubt.

We went to see the house after John got off work - so we could test the commute. It's a fraction faster getting there than our current home! And on Sunday mornings we'll be able to leave a good bit later (we make quite a drive, but some things are worth it). It's small, I'll give you that - 2 largish bedrooms, 1 very small bedroom (Little B gets it because he's not sharing), the bathrooms are not off the main living area but you must go through one of the large bedrooms to get to them - so be it, we can survive that. The heart of the house is "L" shaped - the bedrooms are off one half of the "L" and the kitchen and laundry closet is in the middle (the knee?). The other half of the "L" is just big enough to accommodate both eating and a homeschooling area. There is even a (very tiny) attic fan which makes my heart beat faster just knowing I'll get to use one at last!

The fence is a bit unusual, though....it does not give us a private yard, but rather it's all over the 21 acres, holding in farm animals that the owners care for. And there are two playgrounds on the property with a massive garden that is completely sustainable - and we are to consider this our backyard. They even MOW THE GRASS, not us. Small house? No big deal. We've got a farm to run around. Talk about the home school opportunities at our fingertips....

Ecstasy ran high for all of us as the gracious, warm owner showed us around the land, told us about the farmer's market she has there every Saturday morning, the business of horse riding lessons, birthday parties, and other events, etc. etc. etc.....we told her we really wanted to go home and pray about it to be certain and she said that was fine, we were her first choice as it's hard to find the right fit in an unusual situation like this. Even our need for it in five weeks rather than right now is better for her.

Once home, Little B could not wait to hear a final word on if we'd take the house....he's ready to purge his room of toys (a major first in his life) so he can fit into the tiny room that overlooks the field where a horse named Comet lives. I told Little B that it would be okay if he wanted the guinea pig, but that with the horses, goats, donkeys and egg-laying chickens (see that, Hannah!?) that he'd see every day, he may not feel the need. He promptly agreed that the guinea pig could wait. He's ready to do some farm chores, people!

With each effort to pray the Lord breathed a yes into our ear before our words could barely come forth. The kids want to pack NOW. The family who owns and lives on the land want us there, and have all kinds of connections to homeschooling groups, run a buyer's co-op (which I'd looked to find close to my home!)....the list goes on, and my heart is overflowing with a thrill that comes with utter peace.

God is so good.

pet fight

2010-06-05T20:17:00.002-04:00

Buttercup, our pet bird, died this morning. Her husband, Wesley, died about two and a half years ago, while I was pregnant with Baby J. So, now we are birdless.

For several months now she has been Little B's responsibility - food, water, clean cage. He was doing a stellar job. Much better than I could find time for. I had told him that this was an opportunity to prove to me that he could be responsible for a pet (some of you may remember the hamster from a while back...she probably received less than stellar care, but she was loved and played with). Anyhow, point being that he has shown me he can be more responsible about a pet as he's gotten older.

In truth, I felt a mixture of relief with the sadness over losing my bird. For she was mine - both of them had been gifts from my mother almost five years ago. But as we added babies to the household caring for pets was more of a task than a labor of love. The relief today is much more enhanced by the fact that when we move we will be in a smaller house. And I had no idea how we'd find space for a bird cage. It just felt like an issue I was avoiding. So now, I have no issue to avoid.

I promised the kids a while back that we'd look into a cool fish tank once we got settled someplace. Today, that no longer sufficed. Little B recently found a lovely tortoise that now resides on our front porch in a large plastic bin and gets good care plus yard time every few days. He wants to give that to Grandma because he is afraid of causing it's death (but turning it loose is not a pleasant option, either - I should add that my mother has a history of keeping turtles and tortoises on his behalf...and one in particular has never been allowed to go free in over five years).

So our pet world is now limited to the tortoise in question and one dwarf frog. The kind that come two to a small cube with a bamboo plant growing inside and you add water once in a while and feed it about twice a week through a tiny hole in the top of the lid. Notice I said we have one frog? His name is Jack. As in Sparrow. His cube-mate used to be Will. As in Turner. One day, Will was just a skeleton - and Jack is our resident cannibal, apparently. You know, I think there is a snail that acts as a maid for the frog, so perhaps we could count that as a third pet?

All this said, Little B wants a new pet. Now. No, not the tortoise (I'm not getting his logic here, people!!). And he's steamed that I've requested we wait until we have settled into our new house to choose a pet. He's on the verge of a meltdown. And he's mad as a hornet that his brother and sister are allergic to dogs (Daddy, too, most likely), and I do have compassion for his frustration. Rabbits don't appeal. Guinea pigs might. Gerbils and hamsters just aren't jiving for me - I do not like escaped rodents. Birds are not a practical option for space and noise right now (besides, he wants a Macaw when you get to the bottom of it...which I said we'd talk about as a college graduation gift!). In truth, I'd rather skip the whole pet thing or keep the tortoise (the frog stays either way). I don't like their smell and I will be changing smelly diapers for another 3 years at least - must I contend with a pet's odor as well? Am I just cold hearted??

Does anyone have a good pet suggestion? One that I won't find hiding beneath my bed covers or chewing the carpet? One that will be fairly simple to care for as a nine year old boy who is desperate for a pet, but not so heavy of a task that it becomes a burden. And, from what I'm gathering, is not a fish tank.

it's time

2010-05-28T18:50:00.003-04:00

Clearly, I don't mean the baby...a bit early yet, don't you think?

I am referring to our move which will take place in July. I'm not certain if that will be early, mid or late July. But, it will be July.

And I'm feeling down. Not because we're moving - that part I've been waiting for and expecting for months now. I'm down because I'm in the first trimester ickies with roughly 6 weeks to purge, pack and move. I'm down because we no longer know where the Lord wants us to move. The little town we were all set to land in no longer gives us a clear sense. This is in part because my husband's job is shifting...not location, but there are currently negotiations for a different title and different salary - at a different company with some of the same owners. Instead of residential and commercial work, they'd be doing government work. It's a different revenue that has some promise, but those details have not been ironed out. We expect longer hours which means a shorter commute would be safer and better all around. All of which affects the house we end up in. See the vicious circle?

I want to draw closer and listen my Lord. I long for His peace and clarity....I know He has answers and I know He'll show us what and where, I'm just trying not to panic while I wait.

In the meantime, anyone want to come pack with me? Sigh....

**edited to add: I should tell you that I trust fully in the timing He has chosen - in fact, today as I was driving home from the library, I told the Lord that I really just didn't think I would have it in me to move during my 3rd trimester. I then checked my mail before pulling into the driveway and discovered a notice written last week about the pending move. The Lord answered my need even before I could utter it. . .

2010-05-25T16:25:00.003-04:00

I don't have much to say, so I'll tell you about my days...

I have the all-day sickies almost all day every day. I do eat - sometimes more, sometimes less, and I feel crummy more than not. All that increased body fluid (going down one's throat in particular) drastically adds to the nausea and general crumminess.

The hormones are getting stronger, the sleepiness is ever present. I want to throw a tantrum when my children can't be nice to each other or to me. I called my mommy crying not once but twice today. I could lay on my couch and stay tired all day - wait, my life at least partially resembles that anyway. I'm feeding the kids (resenting the food as I do it), I'm filling them up with television, I'm clothing them (most days), and I'm schooling the one that must be schooled. But it's been an uphill battle recently. Which is not helping.

My amazing hubby was off for 3 days last week. I slept in, I dozed, I rested and I took naps. He fed kids, did dishes, diapered the toddler, did dishes, was nice to me, and fell asleep early every night. Oh yeah, he also did dishes. He was happy to get back to the office yesterday.

We took a field trip to our local aquarium one of those days with some specially priced tickets (and I left the camera at home because I rock like that). I should have known better. It ended horribly....bad, bad end to a day packed wall to wall with inner city field trip kids and lots of loud noise, and a mommy who felt....pregnant with a migraine.

On a slightly lighter note, yesterday I had an OB visit - specifically paperwork and blood work. Yes, the lady had to stick me THREE times to get blood and I could barely hear the doc over the chatter of my oldest who would N O T stop being silly with his sister no matter how many times I asked - it clearly did not process for him much to my frustration. However, both of them were absolutely thrilled - and jealous - when they discovered I get to pee in a cup every visit! "Not fair," says Little B. He will never, ever in his lifetime know just how not fair it is to be required to pee into a cup when you cannot see and can barely reach around an over-stretched belly filled with a full term baby. . .but, hey, let them be jealous. It's good for them.

end of an era

2010-05-15T18:37:00.004-04:00

Please pardon my general absence - the exhaustion of this pregnancy is overwhelming right now!

I wanted to share with you the reason we took our kids to celebrate today. First, I admit I took them to Brewster's for "ice cream" at 5pm (for the dairy-free kids, read: Italian Ice; for the wheat-free people, read: in a cup...no, nothing in our lives is simple). I was secretly hoping they would eat a light dinner, but they were hungry almost immediately. And I've put them off indefinitely. haha!

So, the reason?? Miss C's results from the final evaluation on her arm arrived in the mail this week. She is completely age-appropriate in all aspects of using her arm and it is strong and there is no further work needed for her! We're encouraged to remember to keep it strong, but there is no shortage found and we are full of delight and thanksgiving on her behalf! We're thankful the Lord saw fit to heal her arm so completely. I have one joyfully happy little girl who very proudly enjoyed her treat tonight.

And I feel we have reached the end of a long journey this week.

unexpected joy

2010-05-07T17:00:00.000-04:00

Very recently God showed me in an unexpected way that my heart was aligned with His. At first, He told me in a quiet, still voice that this was on his heart, and I wasn't sure how to take it or what to make of it. But I am thankful I never had make any decisions - He had His own timing and simply took care of the details without my knowing. Sometimes it's easiest that way.

I posted about what was on my heart fairly recently, though I just realized it published with the earlier draft date, so some of you may have missed it . . . you will find more here. I can assure you, my heart is overflowing with joy right now!

pathology report

2010-05-05T08:56:00.002-04:00

I've been miserably sick with a nasty cold and probably sinus infection, therefore I'm not thinking clearly this week. But, I promised you an update of my pathology report when the stitches came out (um...two days ago). So, here it is:

They removed all the pre-cancer cells and everything is clear! Thank you Lord!

a servant's heart

2010-04-27T08:32:00.004-04:00

In recent months I have been touched that I need and want a servant's heart. When praying about when and where the Lord will move us, we pray for the opportunity to serve Him. In my mind's eye this means things outside of my family life.

Then, I read a book. (It is Christian Fiction - admittedly my preferred genre for the cleaner content). While I normally read for entertaining and "escape" purposes, this book began to draw me in a different way.

On Sparrow Hill, by Maureen Lang, is about serving. It merges a modern family with their history as they read letters written 150 years ago. They learn that some of their family genes carry Fragile X. You see how it affects part of the current family, and you see a deeply caring, serving woman from many years ago who was called to serve children who had this "curse." She understood so clearly that they are God's creation and need love and care, to be served.

I do not have anything so difficult to deal with in my life. But I do have children with their own unique needs and difficulties. And in reading this touching story, I began to see that I need to have a servant's heart with my children. Serving begins here. With the children the Lord gave me. Their special and high needs that He allowed require care and cherishing and compassion. Too often I find myself on the frustrated end of things, pushing and instead of pulling gently. Instead of serving them.

(Apparently this book is a sequel, but I didn't realize that until I had finished it.)

potty talk

2010-04-25T21:32:00.002-04:00

(also formerly posted at my crochet/knit blog 'got me in stitches' that has been neglected until my knitting friend picked up the slack recently)

I'm not potty training Baby J in earnest, only dabbling with it.

When his diaper stayed dry for several hours at a time and he asked to go potty between changes (his greatest joy), I bought him underpants. If he's wearing them he'll have small accidents frequently - I'm guessing it's because he doesn't empty his bladder on the potty no matter how many times I ask him if he has more, can make more, push more out...whatever the phraseology. I'm not in the mood for games, so I'm not pushing this.

My other two trained when they were ready to do it right and did it in roughly a week's time - different kids, different ages. Right now, Baby J's verbal skills are not as strong as theirs were (he can say "potty" but other things sound very much the same) and he's a bit more wiley which means more work.

This history leads me to last night...

Around midnight, Baby J woke up. And began to cry. As though in pain. Grabbing his diaper. I was alarmed and looked inside where all appeared normal. Except that he grabbed himself and cried some more. Yeah, uh, Urgent Care? ER? I noticed his diaper was almost totally dry - oh my, was he having trouble peeing??? Can we please freak a mom out a little more?

Then he started to pee. And stopped fast, grabbing himself, crying more. I considered a moment and asked if he needed to use the potty. He calmed down, saying yes. Nearly falling off in his groggy state, that boy peed more on the potty in one sitting than he has ever done. And went on to bed quite happily afterward.

But 12am is so not the time to work on this issue.

i’m a blogger dunce

2010-04-25T21:29:00.002-04:00

You see, I posted my last two posts under my crochet blog….oops. I will repost last week's here, this week's above this one.

Wednesday, 21 April 2010

Today came at last. I had my pre-cancer cells carved off the upper right side of my back this morning. It didn't take long and the doctor and his assistant were wonderful.

But it's been about five hours. And the numbing stuff is wearing off. It itches like mad, people. Truly, if it was a normal spot I could scratch and be done, it wouldn't categorize as that big of an itch. But I can't scratch. I did take some ibuprofen because I can already tell a burning will follow as the itch gets worse.
(There will be a follow-up pathology report in 12 days when I get the stitches taken out.)

waiting

2010-04-07T16:52:00.001-04:00

(I mentioned last week that the Lord is doing some things in our lives right now....)

How difficult it is to have faith in God's timing sometimes. I've been in a very long season of waiting. For several things, really, but there is one specific thing that comes mind: our move.

It has been just shy of two years since the Lord began to work deep in my heart about moving closer to "College Town," over an hour from where we are. It took a long summer of my husband working there, the Lord prodding me, and my heart softening. We were ready to put our house on the market (and I told people we felt to move) when John was sent back to the main office which is not so close to College Town. But both of our hearts had been stirred for this change and that did not die down. We began waiting to see what the Lord wanted and when.

At that time the economy was dropping fast, which as I've said before was a direct hit on us since very few needed the services of a civil engineers - nobody could afford to build, the lots grew weeds and foreclosure/bank owned signs went up everywhere. Yes, we've suffered from this, but I know full well that so many others have, too. We're not alone.

In the meantime, we pondered what the Lord might be doing. Our desire to move was still strong, but no longer a practical thing as the commute would have become impractical. We waited. And waited. And prayed.

Acts 1:4
And as He met together with them, He charged them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the promise of the Father, which, He said, You heard from me.

Last August we reached a point when we could no longer afford our home and the inevitable was foreclosure. So we attempted do do a short sell (where the mortgage company agrees to take less than what we owe.) Yes, we had a peace to go that direction. But by Christmas we needed to make some bigger decisions. We got an offer on our house the same day we decided not to sell. I believe this was all a ploy from the Lord to keep us waiting! As stressful as it has been, His peace has been there every step of the way. On Christmas Eve, we filed for bankruptcy. There was simply nothing else we could do. Thankfully, we own our cars outright. The house will go into foreclosure after all (as part of the bankruptcy). We'll know at least 60 days in advance...and per our attorney we should have heard something as early February, but guess what? We're still waiting.

While waiting, I've had some niggling thoughts within me, but never voiced them. Occasionally I'd bring them out to play and see how they fit, what it might be like. Then I'd tuck them back onto a shelf inside of me and move on with my day. A few weeks ago my husband voiced them - all I could do was sit in shock for a moment before asking, "You, too, huh?"

His words: "How would you feel if the Lord moved us out of state?"

He has been working at his uncle's company for just shy of 13 years now. I always assumed it would just keep going. And I was quite fine with that as I loved the security it brought. But it seems the Lord has different plans for us now. And one thing we both are sure of: we want to be where the Lord wants us, not in the wrong place.

So, we're branching out. He spent all weekend working on his resume and sending it off (and there are still only a few jobs in his field). One place in particular draws us both, though we're open to whatever the Lord might do. I suppose we'll just wait and see what He has planned. . .and when. Maybe all he's doing is asking for our heart and our willingness. But I think it's more.

Isaiah 40:31
But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.

timing

2010-04-06T16:56:00.002-04:00

The night before I got the call about my biopsy results I got a different phone call from someone whose voice I hear far too rarely. This person is a man I've known since we were bout 15. To this day I consider Eric one of my dearest friends - though we speak about twice a year and see each other even less. This is the friend who walked my mother down the aisle at my wedding because my brother didn't want to, whose last name is the same as Little B's first name, whose parents are our extended family, and whose wife laughed recently at his longing to find time to sit and read War and Peace when he saw it on a chair in a restaurant.

Eric and his wife are expecting their first baby and I confess a moment of trepidation when I saw his name on Caller ID. In recent years, a call from him often brings news, whether good or bad. We spoke of my children, my husband, his wife, our lives and plans in general. He asked the right questions, listening with his entire self as always, like the answers mattered very much him. And all the while I sat waiting for the bomb to drop. One year it was his mother's broken neck (she is fine now) and more recently it was the news of expecting a baby. So you can see how I was uncertain of what I would hear after the chit-chat came to a close.

But on this night, he was calling because his intelligent medieval lit-professor-self was on spring break, catching up on some work (oxymoron, thankyouverymuch!) and upon reaching a good point for a break, he was simply calling a few friends he had not spoken with for a while. I was blessed to be one of those.

As our conversation continued, I realized why he had really called, unbeknownst to either one of us at first: Because I needed him to pray. For the same reasons I asked you to pray. Because the timing of our God is always perfect. This is a friend I have always shown my heart to without reserve because he took care of it. And on this night of struggling for me, God provided yet another source of prayer to cover me.

I never cease to wonder at the multi-faceted ways our Father cares for us, like the timing of a friend's call.

monday madness

2010-04-05T07:30:00.001-04:00

After I posted about my severe pre-cancer cells on Thursday, I called the doctor's office like a good patient and scheduled my appointment for removing the mole on my back. At first, they had something at the end of April, I believe. Then I gave her my address to enter and she told me there was an office closer to me (which is actually where I thought I was scheduling already). And, by switching locations to the right one, they were able to see me Monday (which is now today).

Of course, this is also Miss C's regularly scheduled allergy treatment around dinner time, and now Baby J has a nasty cold on top of pollen allergies on top of 2 year old molars cutting in. Fun.

**Update: It was not removed today as he wants the biopsy to heal a bit more first, so we'll reschedule for next week. Also, the doctor was very kind and informative which is always a good thing.**

Thank you so much for your prayers for me this past week. I feel them at work in my being, literally. My heart is slowly easing and God is doing things in our lives right now that I will hopefully share very soon. . .

thankful thursday - part 2

2010-04-01T11:07:00.002-04:00

I got a call from my dermatologist earlier this morning. My biopsy came back abnormal and I will need to see a plastic surgeon to remove the mole entirely.

Since she was not forthcoming with what that meant, I plied the lady on the phone with a handful of questions and it seems that I have severe pre-cancer cells (versus mild or moderate). If left alone, it will turn into skin cancer.

I'll be making that call and scheduling that appointment today.
I'm thankful...

I do not have skin cancer.

thankful thursday - my tree

2010-04-01T04:51:00.000-04:00

I mentioned several months back that we would be moving soon. And we fully expected to have moved by now, though that has not happened yet. We're still waiting on some things in the "paperwork" side of life.

At that time, I was saddened by a specific thing I would have to leave behind: my cherry tree. Every spring there is this amazing week when she graces the back of my yard in prominence and beauty, her blossoms whispering gently in the breeze.

I take scads of pictures of that tree during this one week - my poor kids don't know a camera the way that tree does. I hope to find time to pull out my film camera with manual settings before the blossoms drop by week's end so I can capture the real essence of what she is.

I am thankful for one more spring to see this tree in bloom.

to three or not to three

2010-03-31T15:35:00.004-04:00

(A few years ago, before the, uh, conception of Baby J, I wanted to title a post this way, so I finally found another chance.)

When I had my first baby, I knew that at some point, he needed a sibling. I did not want an only child. But that was all I knew. If someone asked "how many" kids I wanted, all I could say was "more than one." And with the craziness of John in school while working and Little B being a bit high maintenance, I waited about a year longer than I'd originally wanted to before having Miss C.

And then when Miss C showed up, I had all the trauma with her birth that I've talked about before, therefore had no reply to the questions about wanting more, yet never liked the "Well, you have one of each now..." remarks. Gender has never been the issue for me. I'd have gladly taken a house full of boys if that's what God had chosen for me. Or girls.

It was during the week after her birth, when I was not allowed to get up from bed except to use the bathroom, that Little B told me he wanted a brother . . .

"I thought you wanted a sister!" (As though I'd arranged it per his wishes)

"I do! But I want a brother next..."

"Oh."

"And then another sister."

Yeah, so not a good week to have that chat.

And then came the day when we decided that two was not enough (around the time I didn't blog on whether 'to three or not to three' way back when). While Miss C's birth was extremely difficult, Baby J's pregnancy was hard on my body. I was clearly in a new age of my life (called being in my thirties, I believe). I was more sick, I was more tired, I was chasing more kids...it was very different the third time around. And I assumed that would probably be it, though I've always maintained that decisions on babies should be made one at a time. I never really expected to have three, much less contemplate a fourth.

But the moment I laid eyes on this precious wisp of life, held him close to my body, gazed into his deep blue eyes and fell in love with him . . . my heart stuttered at the thought of never having such a moment again. Literally, I ached with the need for one more. (After adequate time to soak this one in, of course.)

I was in the grocery store last summer, traipsing around the food aisles with all three of my kiddos as usual. I frequently get stopped with questions about whether Baby J is always so happy (unless he is unhappy, in which case no one asks me that question. . . ). This time, it was a mom of four, whose kids were a good deal older than mine. As we chatted for a moment, I admitted to thinking that four sounded nice. She grinned. And cheered for me to have another. Then she told me about the time before her fourth came along: she said she was always looking over her shoulder, feeling like someone was missing. I thought that was so lovely. And I, too, have had that same feeling for so long.

I set a deadline for myself a while back: "When I hit 35, if there's nothing baking in the oven, then I'm done." (That's less than a year away now.) And with so much going on this past year, the very thought of adding another person has felt irresponsible. And so the decision is not made, over and over. Added to that are the safety issues that rise up with any discussion of my giving birth - I clearly do not have have typical birth experiences; this fact makes me sad and it concerns my husband greatly. I would have to give strong consideration to a c-section if I have another (which would be astronomically expensive on our current insurance plan). Plus, the very thought of that is difficult for me. Perhaps there would be a time later for us to adopt, something we gave thought to when we thought there might not be biological children. But adoption is not a decision to make right now, either.

And so, to three or not to three, that is the question. I believe that question does not have an answer yet. Only God knows. In the meantime, I suppose I will just continue to wait on the Lord's timing, either direction.

on my heart

2010-03-28T21:22:00.002-04:00

I am short on words here recently. My heart has been heavy in ways I am not sure I understand. I want to say I'm a bit "despondent" but not so much as to call it "depressed." I'm almost struggling, but not quite. There are several facets to what I am feeling and experiencing. I cannot decipher it all, but I feel that you are a group of ladies I hold dear and so I want to share the fragments I can see with you and ask you to pray with me and for me.

A small part is that friend I have been so burdened to pray for. No response, but occasional heaviness of heart to continue praying.

Another small part is that about the time I began exercising I began to feel more tired. I should have more energy, I realize. And I'm not pregnant (had that scare last week and it was negative...ahem...). I am not resting well, however, so that is probably the source of tiredness. I never feel rested, but neither am I tired enough to nap.

And then there is a small sense of foreboding deep inside right now. I cannot call it fear, for it's not. I cannot define it. I am not certain what is triggering it. Perhaps a preparing of my heart for something to come. I don't feel like there is death around the corner, but neither can I be sure. When my son began having nightmares about my dad dying, it was easy to fall into fear over that. It makes me want to "know" what lies ahead - but yet I don't really want to, nor need to.

As my brother said, it's my intuition. I know it is. And it aches fiercely at times.

And maybe there is just a heavy dose of anxiety mixed up in it all. I had a small biopsy done on a mole Friday. There is skin cancer on both sides of my family, so I am not naive as to what that means. She didn't seem overly worried. And there was only one that she felt to biopsy, which is good.

But I cannot shake the sense that the foreboding feeling is about me.

Friends, if you are so inclined, I covet your prayer right now - however you feel led to pray.

thankful thursday - little b

2010-03-25T16:47:00.003-04:00

My firstborn turned 9 on Sunday. I wanted to post on it earlier in the week, but life spiraled on me so it didn't happen.

I have told you about how wonderful he is. How he melts my heart. How I adore him. How I am glad to be homeschooling him. What his struggles are. So, I will not go down that road today.

Instead, I simply want to be thankful for him. This was "one of those weeks" with him - entirely my fault as I got distracted with an early doctor's appointment on Monday and missed his medication by several hours. That is more than enough to turn the tide and it's been pretty ugly since then. And I'm totally worn out now.

But in my heart of hearts I am still oh so thankful for my boy. He is so special to my heart. On the hardest of days he will still hug me tight at bedtime, tell me he loves me, and mean it. I am often trying to do juggle all three kids at various stages of bedtime neediness, and even hanging onto frustration. I feel I fail to appreciate the sweetness of this boy. But truly, it's like a fragrance that lingers long after his breathing has evened out and my own head is drifting into slumber.

He makes me so rich.
I do love him so.

thankful thursday

2010-03-18T08:21:00.003-04:00

There is only One source of true Life and true Peace. And I am so thankful to have access to that source. Every day. Just by containing the Holy Spirit in my human spirit. My excperience of this has been vital to me this past week.

I felt deeply prompted to send a small message to an old friend the other day. This person has been on my heart strongly for some time, indeed urgently this past summer. After facebook reconnected us not long ago, the Lord began prodding me to write. Given certain circumstances, it seemed a bit...unorthodox...to my way of thinking. And yet if I resisted, I lost my peace immediately. At first, I just felt to pray and consider a note in the future. Then this week I had a sudden, pressing need to send that note. Without hesitation. I had no outward reason to believe that day was better than another day. But the Lord was very clear to me and I felt I was racing against a time bomb as I worked to quickly and carefully craft a short, appropriate message to someone I had not seen in over 12 years.

I prayed as I typed, deleted, retyped, listened to my son asking for the computer, moved sentences around, deleted, promised the computer in just a minute, and typed some more. I pondered my heart, my intent, my source of Life. Any time I considered just waiting, the urgency almost made my heart race and I grew uncomfortable. Any time I turned and sought my Lord in the matter, life and peace returned. I pressed "send" and felt a calm come over me.

Yet I would get wrapped up in my mind, second guessing myself, feeling uncertain and edgy off and on for a couple of days. And each time I thought surely I was foolish, that I wished I could take it back, I began to pray. And again the peace returned. My mother gently reminded me in the midst of my angst that all I really needed was to follow Life and Peace - not worry about anything else. Her words reassured me and in that simple truth, I could see exactly what she was telling me in the entire situation. I knew without a doubt I'd done exactly that: follow Life and Peace.

I have not heard a response. I may never hear a response. I do watch for one. I do hope for one. Even if it's another 12 years. But I do not expect one. And in my mind, that is so hard. But each time I go before my Father about it, this friend gets prayed for. And I am well aware that the Lord is moving and operating beyond anything I can fathom. And He clearly needs me to pray.

And so I do. With the Life and Peace that only He can afford.

shoes

2010-03-16T09:40:00.002-04:00

I do not like wearing shoes. I mean, I really loathe wearing shoes. I am clumsier in shoes, whereas my feet can feel their way around all kinds of things without them. I can wear socks and get them nasty dirty much of the day...but shoes come off the minute I walk in the door. Even socks wear out their welcome if my feet are not cold enough. Mystery crumbs on the kitchen floor yield taking them off sooner not later. Did I mention I like bare feet?? (Yes, I'm still clumsy without shoes, and my husband tells me I wouldn't stub my toes if only I had shoes on. He loves shoes...I guess opposites do attract!)

So, I'm trying to exercise. On a treadmill. This would be during nap time for Baby J which equals quiet time for the older two. I stack an upside down laundry basket onto a portable computer stand, plop down my laptop and stream a Netflix movie for motivation. I get insanely bored when exercising and this is the only thing that keeps it going. I'd read, but it's just too plain awkward to flip pages and find a way to keep the book at a comfortable reading distance. Trust me on this...I've tried.

Yesterday, (the, uh, second time I've dusted off the treadmill in about a week...we won't talk about just how dusty it got before!) I was all ready to start and realized that Baby J was napping in my room. Where my socks live (because I'd actually cleared the clean clothes off the couch -- clearly a mistake on my part). So, I put on the sneakers without socks. And walked/almost-jogged for over an hour. My feet are mad at me today. Apparently, socks are more than just for soaking up sweat.

If only I could hit the treadmill barefoot, I'd probably be a lot better at it.

(I'll spare you the stories of walking my neighborhood as a teenager, in the South, barefoot, during the peak of summer...and the time I jumped a fence and scraped the balls of my feet raw before I turned around to head home....fun times in bare feet, I tell you...)

thankful thursday

2010-03-11T07:41:00.003-05:00

I've been a slacker recently - my apologies. But, I'll take a moment to share my thankfulness from this week just for you.

~I'm sucked into a very long trilogy (like 475 pages each book) that has my not-busy-mommying moments used all up (now you know where I've been). Since I'm starting the third book, I should be more readily available soon. (FYI: I'm reading The Daughters of Boston by Julie Lessman). Oh man...I just saw she's got a new trilogy (that is about this same family) coming - first book later this year. I do not know how I'll wait that long...I LOVE a read that carries me away. A long one (call it a pseudo-vacation if you want).

~John has been covered up with work so much that there are lots and lots of late nights and weekend hours required. There are not words to tell you how desperately we need those hours...to say I'm thankful that he is with a rare company who pays most of their employees (including professionals like his engineering self) hourly instead of salaried is an understatement. Every moment of overtime (also known as "professional time" since it's not time and a half as a professional) helps us right now. I miss the man, and I am heard to lose it a bit and feel grouchy, but oh how the Father is providing. That said, hats off to every single mother out there. I pray I never know just how hard that is because at least I have my husband safely on the other end of a phone if I need him.

~ Speaking of lots of hours and missing the man of the house, John needed a bit of a break and took Monday and Tuesday off. I so love having my love around - I can not get enough of that man. I look forward to the day he retires!

~ And with those days off, we took the kids on fabulous field trips in our local vicinity (I'm too chicken to take all three kids places like that while both boys are potential wild cards!):

Saturday, we took them to a train museum that had me in love with trains. I see how people develop such a love for them. We got to go through so many old trains and ride in a real caboose. Completely fascinating!

Monday we returned to a favorite environmental center that's all about water cycles and being "green." They've got a small room with fish, snakes, turtles and horseshoe crabs, and the main "hall" is full of cool displays. Best of all is play room full of interactive water things. You can experiment with the flow of a river, adjust water pressure with levers and wheels that, or play in a ball pit of blue balls that go into a tube in the wall sucking them up like vapor and coming back down out of a "cloud" like rain etc. etc. etc...it's a small place that's quiet and probably has a lot of "growing room" but we like it small.

Tuesday we went to a kid's art museum complete with a scavenger hunt that encouraged them to look at the art and pay attention to color and shape, draw some pieces, name some pieces, and talk about what they saw, felt or thought. And there was an interactive room with instruments, puppets, crafts and book nook.

And now, I believe I need to do some of that mommying I mentioned, then see happens in this third book. . .

the accidental bubble bath

2010-03-04T13:14:00.002-05:00

My daughter's skin tends to be sensitive - I know, real shocker, isn't it? Little B had eczema when he was a baby and occasionally got random hives that could never be explained. So, we're soap-picky. Dove for sensitive skin is preferred for the little people's skin, though Little B doesn't have to stick to that as much any more.

Of course, that still leaves shampoo. And though the cost is very high, the carcinogens are pretty much nil in California Baby products - and my kid's skin is happy with them! Big factor right there. We cannot begin to buy all the products that they offer, but I do dream of it. However, I easily find some of their shampoo/body wash combos at my local Target, as well as conditioner. And thankfully it doesn't take much to wash the hairs upon their heads. So, after making a bottle of California Baby stretch as long as I could, and after an itchy-skin attempt to switch her to a 2-in-1 kid's shampoo that Little B uses, I recently buckled and bought a new bottle of the good stuff.

I bathe Miss C and Baby J in my tub most of the time, and so the sides of the tub are littered with bottles for shampoo, conditioner, soap, etc. (We won't discuss that I often have a bottle of my shampoo there, the rinsing bucket is there, sometimes the hand soap is there for short-people faucet access, and the previous, empty, larger pump-size of California Baby shampoo is still making a home there. . .) All of these items regularly rotate location along the shelf that is otherwise known as the edge of the tub.

Yesterday, as Baby J washed his hands, I noticed a wet streak in the tub coming from the opposite corner as the faucet. I didn't fully register this until later when I took a (deliciously scalding hot) bath. And little bubbles appeared. I looked to the array of bottles and discovered much to my chagrin that the expensive new bottle of shampoo was open and on it's side. Half empty.

I decided to enjoy it while it lasted, though. Especially since I find it very easy to believe I left that bottle open when washing her hair last. Ah well....a surprise bubble bath is at least a relaxing surprise!

my waiting room friend

2010-03-01T14:07:00.002-05:00

The autumn before I had Baby J I was growing daily larger and more hormonal and working to cope with the imminent winter "mood swings" of my oldest child. All we knew at the time was that he dramatically declined in almost every way during the colder months of the year. School was more difficult each day, attitude seeped from his every pore, his face wore a cloud of anger across it. He freely sassed his teacher and meltdowns seemed the core of his existence. Intense does not begin to describe it. We could not find a specific trigger. But each month was worse. And yes, he was only six years old still.

He was lonely. There was a one boy he was becoming good friends with and an effort toward a few others, but his social cravings did not line up with his social abilities. He was an easy target for bullies and his intelligence was easily bored by the education he was receiving.

I was lonely. In the "mommy world" I felt like a complete failure as a parent, in spite of my every effort to be the best I could be. I had friends who listened, who tried to understand what I was going through with my son, who cared. But they didn't really get it. Sure, my friends had their struggles, but in my mind their lives were "charmed" compared to mine – we didn't have occasional bad days; we had occasional good days.

If February is the hardest month I can think of, then October should have only been a warm-up session. But one evening in early or mid October I was trying to cope with a major meltdown of my son's and at some point I finally kicked my foot through the wall. Now, my husband was in the hallway between my son's room and me, so to this day Little B does not know how come there is a white patch of unpainted wall behind the Curious George poster that graces the hallway at an odd height. Or why there is torn sheetrock immediately behind that wall, beneath the bathroom light switch. Apparently I have a strong kick. Or temper. (No, I do not make this a habit!)

I talked to the Lord that night about a lot of things. One of which was a need for a friend. I do have some very dear friends so don't misunderstand this need: it was very specific. I was assured that the Lord understood and heard me very clearly in less than 48 hours.

At this time, we still had Little B in Occupational Therapy for his Sensory Processing Disorder. Each week we'd arrived with my pregnant belly and Miss C's adorable two-and-a-half year old self. I'd tell the therapist of anything going on (like meltdowns that bring mommy's foot through the wall), sometimes show her the teacher's comments in Little B's agenda, and then sit for an hour with Miss C trying to open the door to the back of the office and/or playing with the waiting room toys.

The therapy appointment after my foot-in-wall episode was different. The therapist told me that Little B would have another boy in half of his therapy each week – doing joint activities for social and other purposes – a "peer." My heart began to lift like a helium balloon. I took one look at the lady in the waiting room with thick, dark hair. She had an open and friendly face. And I knew in that moment my God had heard my pleading.

For the rest of the school year, we spent an hour each week in that waiting room talking. Not once was it enough time to finish all that we wanted or needed to say. Her son does not have the same issues as Little B. In fact, they are far removed from what we deal with. However, she easily grasped that there are kids with different "special" needs.

There was not a breath of censure in her voice if she heard of a hard day as it is in our home. She plied me with the right kinds of questions. She shared her heart and her concerns with her own son. She listened.

Three months after I met her, she visited me in the hospital when Baby J was born and I hugged her and told her that she had no idea how much of an answer to prayer she was. She told me it went both ways. I love how personally my prayer was answered.

Even after our mutual therapy appointments ended, we stayed in touch with sporadic visits and phone calls. And now, as I mentioned recently, we are attempting to overlap another doctor's appointment for the simple reason of finding time to visit. I suppose we just do well in waiting rooms.

Recently, I told her of putting my foot through the wall the weekend before I met her and she had the grace to pop her eyes open wider and laugh about it with me.

***As an important side note, Little B has since been given further diagnoses of Anxiety and mild Asperger's Syndrome. By making a very difficult choice to medicate him last spring, he has made great strides of improvements. February just ended. It used to be the longest month of the year for me. Not so this time.***

thankful thursday

2010-02-18T21:09:00.002-05:00

First of all, thanks to those of you who are helping me feel better about my blog visitors - whether by email, commenting or just telling me it was someone I knew all along but didn't realize it...anyone else out there, just keep it coming, okay? Especially you, Conneticut Reader, whoever you are...

Early this morning I wanted to post a Thankful Thursday and spent a bit too long pondering what I should say. I had some things on my mind I could have said, but it just wasn't "it" - those thoughts are not finished mulling just yet. So, I decided to go about my day and by the time it has come to an end, I have a post full of thankfulness:

~ Great friends...I visited with my "waiting room friend." I met her in a waiting room over two years ago when our boys were in occupational therapy together as peers...we chatted for about an hour every single week and struck up a much-needed, heartfelt friendship. Guess where we met up today? A WAITING ROOM. Our boys are no longer in therapy together, but we share a couple of other doctors, one of them a regular appointment, so we started deliberately coinciding our appointments to create visit time since our lives run in the fast lane too often. It was a definite joy to see her today.

~ More great friends...after that appointment was finished (which is not close to home for us) we dropped by to visit some other friends over that way.

~ Cul-de-sacs....the friend we stopped to visit lives in a cul-de-sac and we arrived armed with scooters and a ridey-toy for Baby J. And the kids ran and rode and played and laughed. And it was good.

~Dinner...out. With those same friends. And inexpensive. Chinese dinner, in fact. YUM.

~Bedtime...for the kids who ran and played and laughed all day. It is much needed for this mommy to have some down time. Because even happy kids sometimes need....reminding...again and again. Maybe when they're super happy they need it more? Either way, bedtime is here.

~Daddy/Hubby...who is home for the second night in a row to tuck in his sweet children after working insane hours for a solid week. At least tomorrow's paycheck will reflect it. For which I am also very thankful.

~JAG...Season 10. Yes, it's an older series. No, we're not (yet) into some of the newer ones (Lost, Bones, etc...), though they do look good and our day will come. But first, we will finish out JAG, whose first DVD graced our mailbox today (then we'll watch the last season of Monk when it comes out and catch up on Psych before moving on....the joys of not having cable mean no commercials, at least!)

(Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to settle in with my love for our long-awaited DVD...if we hurry, we may get to watch two episodes before it's too late...!)

editing and stats

2010-02-16T08:00:00.000-05:00

Okay, does anyone else "publish" their newest and latest blog post, click over to view it's beauty, then notice glaring errors like missed commas and such? I hate that feeling. I have to go back and correct them every single time. (If I missed some you see, please don't tell me.)

And while we're on a random topic here, let's hit another one: I know I've recently asked for delurkers to speak up. Twice. This is really important to me. I realize that I get numerous visitors that do a search, click over, see it's not what they were looking for and move on, never to be seen or heard from again. That's not who I'm talking about...

I'm speaking to those of you who, on my statcounter, have repeatedly popped in from a scattering of places:

California
Connecticut
Georgia
Illinois
Missouri
New York

(I'm working to assume that those from London, Singapore, Russia, a military base and a few others are more happenstance than returning readers. However, that can apply, too.)

....to my knowledge you've never said "Hi!"...it leads me to wonder how many lurkers I truly have out there. Come on, people. Work with me here. I'm not that comfortable with so many hiding out. And I'm really a nice person! (Well...sometimes my kids may disagree and I can think of a few others that may have choice words about me, but in general, I think I'm fairly nice.)

I DO respect your need to stay private as well - after all, that's my whole point. I value my privacy and therefore want to know who is reading everything on my mind.

So. If you are one of those who cannot bear to leave a comment, even to delurk, would you kindly email me and just tell me that?

2seejoy@gmail.com

It's not hard to do.

And maybe it's time to edit my statcounter. Anyone have a good one they can recommend?

calling

2010-02-12T06:15:00.000-05:00

Quite often, when I settle into my van for a drive that's farther than the library, I pull out my cell phone. I have a shared plan with lots of roll over minutes, free long distance and now a few frequently used numbers aren't even using up minutes! I use this time to stay in touch with a few friends who live far away or chat with my mom -- easing the solitude that mommy-hood often brings.

But recently, I find that I often pause as I pull out the phone, and return it to my pocket. I hear a call coming in. But not on the phone. I hear Someone asking for those moments of my time.

When I was single, I used my car time to sing and pray and call on my Father's name - loudly, deeply and with great satisfaction and watering of my spirit. The more people in the car, the less freedom to have such a personal, private time. These days, I am being still. And knowing God. Praying in a quieter way, flitting from one thing on my heart to another, allowing time to ponder these things, mull them over. I am slowing down to listen to His voice a little more often.

I still chat with my friends on the phone during my drive; but there are a lot of drives now that find me turned to another place, whether I am alone or with a van full of children. I am making or taking an important call.

chicken soup for the soul

2010-02-11T06:15:00.000-05:00

A little over a year ago someone gave my husband a cool chicken noodle soup gift set - it came with two soup mugs and a quaint container to hold the soup packets. I liked it!

So I decided to keep it for my own personal use, and I believe it suits that use perfectly. Typically, if you sneak a peak inside, you will find one of two views:

I keep it in the pantry-cabinet area of the kitchen for emergency and easy access. My husband partakes, but at least he has the good taste to know that dark chocolate is better, so I'm willing to share with him. Usually. I find that the better the quality of chocolate, the more satisfying and therefore the slower I am able to eat it. The M&M's disappeared rather fast this past weekend, so the current stash is the Dove...it should hold out a bit longer (unless, of course, an emergency situation should arise).

I have a cool Choxie box that I saved from a while back (now those.....oh MY G O O D N E S S). If you have never seen their boxes, they are uniquely designed and open in unusual ways. This one, if you pull out a lower tab, two (stacked) drawers open. I'm thinking it might be a nice secondary stash, perhaps in my closet, away from the greedy fingers of my husband. Otherwise, I feel compelled to find another fun use for it.

Do you have a secret stash, chocolate or otherwise?
If so, how and where do you hide it?
(I promise, I'm not going to come in and steal it!)

wedding present

2010-02-10T09:35:00.005-05:00

Hannah, this one's especially for you. I hope you get a good laugh!

I have known Hannah for many, many years. Sadly, most of those years were spent NOT staying in touch. But, facebook was very good to me when I re-friended her!

When I say many, many years, I mean since High School, which puts us closing in on . . . what? 20 years...whoa. Let's move forward, shall we?

I knew her when she was getting married. I didn't see her much as we lived in different states, but I did get a wedding invitation from her while I was living in Seattle, not quite yet engaged to my own wonderful man. And while I knew that there was no practical way to go to her wedding, I was thrilled to my toes for her. And wanted to send her a wedding present. (Never got one, did you, Hannah? Read on dear friend...)

In my total and complete inexperience with what to buy for a wedding present, I found something that seemed like a cool idea. It probably is still a decent present idea, truth be told. At least not a total flop of an idea like some I'm sure I've ventured forward with. That poor present never made it out the door. Just. Didn't. I can't recall a specific reason, but I procrastinate quite well. I kept intending to send it, I know that much.

In my total and complete pack-rat life, it moved back to my current state with me as I planned my own wedding the following year. And then to the first house we bought, no longer planning to send it Hannah as it had been a few years and, well, the shame of it all. I finally took it out of its now-beat-up packaging thinking perhaps I would use it. I didn't. The inner seals were (mostly) left in tact.

Eight years later, that poor gift made it's way to my new house, where we currently live. And left in the bonus room upstairs, tucked away from the unsavory reminder of my total and complete slackness.

Last night, I went to the bonus room and saw it lying on a shelf. And almost died when I realized that thirteen years ago I bought it for a friend I was now back in touch with. It just seemed so...blog-worthy.

So, without further ado:
Hannah,
Congratulations on your marriage, my friend! I hope you have a long and happy life together, and I know that when you send me your address, you will absolutley have SO much use for this wedding gift....
Love, cjoy

Yes, feel free to turn it down and feel free to laugh until you cry. No offense will be taken. And should you choose to accept this belated gift, I will not promise to send it this week. :)

pity party

2010-02-09T08:30:00.005-05:00

Just a little, tiny pity party, I promise.

The world of allergies just feels so lonely and isolated sometimes...parties are a pain because if you want to have cake and pizza, you must take your own. Being invited to dinner at someone's home, such as spontaneously on a Sunday afternoon, feels intrusive because I must first query every single ingredient that went into the meal, then determine which family members are safe to eat each thing, if any. (To expound, I am out of onion powder and wanted to buy more...but the Great Value "brand" at Wally World is unsafe due to cross contamination, as are many of their products...they did not have a name brand choice that I could find, so I still need onion powder until I go to another store; if my friends cooked with it, Miss C and possibly Baby J could not eat that food.) Dining out any place other than our handful of regular restaurants is a massive undertaking as we learn a new menu, talk to uninformed staff and question the chef multiple times on the different issues each person has. I can barely enjoy my food once that's over.

And it's not just food - it's cats and dogs, too. It keeps us from play dates and popping in at a friends' home, and ends regular visits when a new dog joins a family. I mean, I'm happy for them, but I feel so cheated and helpless to change things. Point in case: I rarely even visit my own parents because they have a dog that must be gated off into another room and their home is very small (he's technically my brother's, but he has no place for a large boxer). Because they have all hardwoods versus carpet, our once or twice a year visit is doable. But it's very difficult to keep young children away from a fascinating dog in close quarters, especially when one of the three kids is allowed in to play with the dog while the other two only watch. I'm just glad my mom and dad keep coming to see us often or we'd have serious withdrawals around here.

(Please don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about my parents, just using them for a neutral example.)

I find over time that I have to remind myself that nuts and soy and dairy and pets - and everything else on our lengthy allergy list - are very normal things for most people!

Okay, pity party over.
You may return to your regularly scheduled blog routine.

the big balance

2010-02-04T15:29:00.003-05:00

This past week, as I filled out our "attendance" form to mail to the superintendent's office, I realized we had reached the halfway mark in our school year - exactly 90 days at the end of January. I find this remarkable, mostly because I have so much I want to do with Little B and it seems unattainable. It's tricky, though, as pressing too hard causes stress, distress and lack of willingness in him (and lots of random breaks keep things peaceful).

Little B learns easily and thoroughly, but he hates to be "forced" to do work – for example, a unit study on The Pirate Diary sounds so exciting to him, but by the third day he's read the book through several times and is resisting the next assignment or rereading a section he's forgotten, even if it's something that would normally excite him –because it's by "force" is what he tells me. And I'm beginning to think lap booking is just like "busy work" in his mind. (I'm starting to feel that way, too, at the moment.) We're giving it a shot, but I find that picking and choosing assignments from such unit studies based on our needs works best. Each day, I write his assignments and chores in a spiral notebook which he checks off as he goes. If he's not done by a certain time, no (play) computer time that day. And we just get back to what was incomplete the next day without a fuss – sometimes it's better not to draw attention to it.

I want to school year-round which is technically 3.5 days a week. We do mostly 4 day weeks so we can have a few days when John has time off. It's just a big balancing act. Also, I'm toying with rotating certain subjects throughout the year, perhaps 3 or 4 month cycles.

We've taken a slight Sonlight hiatus in which we did random social studies "lessons" since I was in need of a few books I had not ordered. They're on their way now, and we're both excited to pick it back up. Sometimes we do the suggested discussions, sometimes not – he has a tendency to read the books through in a day or two and can easily tell me what he's enjoying.

Language Arts is a breeze for him. His ability to write a story with limited errors, beautiful descriptions and accurate punctuation easily exceeds the 3rd grade level. Paragraph breaks are the most noticeable need. He has loved the silliness of Time 4 Learning's online L.A. program, though we had to move him to the 4th grade level in that this week...I should have done it long ago, and I'm not so certain we won't have to move it to 5th. He simply aces it all. I'm also considering a vocabulary book and a daily editing book; both look good and would provide variation (as long as I get at least 4^th grade levels).

Next week, Little B will finish the current book from Math U See. We have been reinforcing addition and subtraction, which went a few steps further than his 2^nd grade math for the purpose of mastery. Now I need to find the next level up. I am contemplating a "break" to work on skip counting and some flashcards before launching into multiplication…but I'm indecisive. Time 4 Learning has math as well, so I can use it as a supplement, but I'm not sure I want to mix up curriculum styles too much.

In science, I have amazing Lego Education set and a Little Professor's Dissection Kit that he is drooling to dig into. I just have not figured out how to work around the destruction of Baby J's toddlerhood. So, I ease my conscience with the science at Time 4 Learning, sans any print-outs or experiments. This has to change, and soon. Again, I find myself considering less of another big subject for a few months, in trade for more of this.

There is so much more I want to do with and for him. I cannot afford outside lessons or activities right now, and we're waiting until the move to join a homeschool group, so it's a bit lonely right now. In the meantime, we have a program for violin that we're slacking on, we could do online language lessons for free through our library, I think typing is becoming essential, Instant Challenges look awesome, and we've worked on manners and cooking and chores. (He's getting proficient at eggs, and he can prepare his own breakfast or lunch.) We have barely dabbled in cursive, so I'm digging into my options – Pencil Pete's Handwriting Programs look good to me, and I can use the print one for Miss C. They also have story starters that I think will keep Little B engaged.

Miss C is teaching herself to read and doing Kindergarten level work on that same Time 4 Learning program. She is so proud to do school like her big brother. I have so many things I want to do with her, but again, I find I lack the opportunities with her because of Baby J, though I realize this stage will flee soon enough.

So, I juggle. And I work to find a balance someplace in this grand act I'm performing.

**A little note about Time 4 Learning – it is an online curriculum that covers (for most grades K-8) Language Arts, Social Studies, Science and Math. I have had a customer service "issue" recently, and find their program (not curriculum) a bit outdated as well as not the most user- friendly. HOWEVER, it has been fun for the kids and they are very kid- and learning-friendly for what our needs have been. Would I recommend them? Probably. Would I shout it from the rooftop? Probably not. They are simply helping meet some needs as I find my way in this new world of Homeschooling…filling in the gaps, so to speak.

brokeness

2010-02-04T13:04:00.010-05:00

In my last (very lengthy) post I told you about the Willow Tree figure my mom gave me the day Miss C was born. And how it broke when she dropped it. And how I cried when I came upon it weeks later.

It had broken in half just beneath the mother's arms. The irony of this struck me so hard -- thus the massive crying fest that ensued.

I did eventually glue it back together, and only if you look closely can you see a crack and a tiny missing chip in back. Again with the irony. I confess I hold this particular item very dear to my heart.

It is interesting that only in our brokeness before our Lord can we be made whole in Him.

miss c

2010-02-03T14:29:00.003-05:00

Miss C.

Of my three kids, her birth, her story, her experience, her time with me – they are the strongest and most distinct. She is astoundingly unique in personality, a pixie of a girl who loves all things Littlest Pet Shop, works to be just as big as her older brother and yet tries her hardest to play with the little one as well. Still waters truly run deep with her as she will ponder and turn over many a thing in her mind that you had no idea she gave a second thought to; her contemplative remarks astonish us every time. She is artistic and has a soft, sweet voice (unless she's mad).

I speak of her birth, for reasons some of you already know or will recall now that I mention it. For those of you who do not know, you can read the story of her birth here.

The trauma of that day was only the beginning of a journey. I blogged for many months of the therapies we took her to, the progress, and finally the dismissal. Indeed, it was during this time that my humble little blog finally sprung to life. I am going to summarize a bit of that time for anyone who does not know the extent of her story:

I have a difficult time giving birth (yes, me, lover of all-natural, drug-free births) – all three of my babies got stuck in the same manner, shoulder dystocia. The difference with Miss C was that she was unusually large and therefore "extra stuck", resulting in nerve damage. At birth, she could not move her arm and her hand only flexed a little, though that was a sign of encouragement to the doctors. During the six months of physical therapy that followed we exercised her arm every single day, we took her to a surgeon for evaluations and follow ups, we read up on brachial plexus injuries and learned that the extent of damage could vary widely. In many cases, the nerve is torn completely and micro surgery can possibly help….for some children, one arm may never function properly, may always be shorter than the other, and may require multiple surgeries. For others, the function will return within days or weeks since the damage was more of a stretching or bruising of the nerve.

I recall specifically having an appointment with the surgeon to discuss her progress when she was about 3 months old. They did not look encouraged as her progress was slow and should have taken a clear turn, even recovered completely, if the injury was mild enough. Without further marked improvement, they were going to consider surgery. We sent emails to our friends detailing her needs, asking for prayer. That very week, the tide began to turn for her and a specific muscle began to flex, then another and another. At six months old, she was discharged with the directive to have a yearly evaluation done until she turned five. There are not words for the relief we felt.

As you see, this year marks something very large for her, and for me. In truth it makes my heart race and a bit of panic to set in. Her four year old evaluation showed a need for some work on her hand that we were to do at home. And we did do it. Just not as diligently as I imagined. She was willing. But I had Baby J always underfoot and on the go along with Little B going through some very hard times. So I simply did not get much done for her this time. I remember her as a new baby, so faithfully stretching and working on her little arm. This time was very different. We had her ring out wet washcloths in the tub, used large "tweezer-weezers" to pick up and move cotton balls, squeeze things with the forefinger and thumb. In normal, practical ways, we encourage her to use and stretch the weaker hand. But it does not feel like I did it often enough.

The lasting results of this injury are not ones you would see if you met her, but ones I see when I have her stretch out her hand and place both palms up and one does not lay flat, or if I ask her to raise both arms straight up in the air and one elbow does not go completely straight; it's her shoulder blade sticking out just a bit more than the other. Little things. So, as the time to schedule her evaluation approaches, I tremble a bit. I worry I have failed her here at the very end. I find myself intensely emotional.

I have a small collection of Willow Tree figures. The day Miss C was born, my mother gave me one I had wanted, of a mother holding her new baby, Angel of Mine. As she pulled out the bag that held it, the bag dropped. My figure dropped and broke. At that moment in time, everything was too much for me to think on it and I had her just set it aside, assuring her it was not a big deal. Once home, that bag was set in another room and temporarily forgotten. Weeks later, I dug it up and only then did I even remember the incident. And I bawled. And bawled some more.

But most of all, I remember that on that day five years ago, I was abundantly clear that my God has a plan for my little girl. Without a doubt, He wanted her here on earth for His purpose. And throughout that traumatic day, I had deep, abiding peace.

I see this plan slowly taking shape as she grows. Just a week ago, she was asking me seriously about Jesus being in our hearts. I spoke some of how He can be there and what He did for us, then suggested she talk to Him about it, think about what it means. She told me it was important to consider. He is moving in her heart.

Happy birthday to my special girl.

tea party and other fun trivia

2010-02-01T08:13:00.012-05:00

In two days my sweet Miss C turns five...did you hear that!? FIVE! I'm not sure how this came to be, but she assures me that under no circumstance can I convince her to go back to four. Sigh.

Truly, I love watching her change and grow and learn and live and delight. I am pleased to see her arriving at five years old. Hopefully, in two day's time I will manage to find the right words to share what is on my heart about her. And if not, it will simply get done late.

For her party this year, we went all-out girly and had a "Fancy Nancy" Tea Party (inspired, not themed). Here she is at the end of a long day, hair skewered, posing with her presents (we took about 8 or 9 pictures, this being one of the last...they were funny to watch! And of course, the best one is on my camera phone, not available for posting.)

I ran into a bit of a stress-act that day since John had worked past midnight the previous two nights which limited the help he could offer, Little B had a party to go do that morning, I had not finished buying food for the party, the icing wasn't made, the floor still needed mopping, the streamers were not done, and I had visions of perfection.

Perfection did not happen. It did get done, however, once reinforcements arrived...and fun reigned. I found getting ready with friends helping to be WAY more fun and so much easier. I think next time I'll ask a friend to come help beforehand and their kid can keep my kid busy. It's handy that my friends' kids are my kids' friends.

I also believe in simple parties - Miss C had two guests and two grandmas (we kicked out all the dads, brothers and grandpas). Less clean up, fewer gifts, more personal time. I love it. And with all the grandness she deserved!

There was an ice cream pinata filled with stickers, bubbles, rings, bracelets, etc. (I loathe the $10 bags of candy that isn't yummy and mostly gets tossed out anyway); there was an old-fashioned pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey; there was make-up and nail polish; and of course there was a fancy tea party (complete with Country Time Pink Lemonade instead of tea).

Here, I present you with my fabulous idea for all the old formals that needed purging from my attic: chair covers.

And for a bit of trivia:
That highly out-dated blue dress a the end of the table, the one that Miss C is sitting on above...that was my Senior Prom dress...and my prom date was none other than the man I married! I SO did not see that coming on that long ago (rainy, awkward) evening. The dress was a bridesmaid dress reworked by a friend's talented mom. And while it was not so snazzy, I had visions of Cinderella, I really did (yes, at 18 years old...hush). Poofy sleeves, shimmery blue...sigh. (My daughter had the same vision when she saw it for the first time - and I didn't have to make the suggestion!) Fast forward a few years and my then-prom-date, now serious relationship/fiance (don't remember if this was before or after our engagement) boldly tells me he didn't like that blue dress from prom and I'd have looked better in black (that was SO not the point, though...and Cinderella didn't wear black, right?). When we were planning our wedding, I made him preview my wedding dress because I told him there was no way he'd tell me a decade later that he didn't really like it. (He claimed to like it then, and so far he has not disputed that....my very own Prince Charming.)

loveliness

2010-01-28T15:42:00.002-05:00

Early this week had some intense and stressful hours, but in contrast, I love a day full of happy surprises!

As I went to bed too late last night, I fully expected to have the horrible grogginess that usually awaits when Baby J demands to get up and greet his Daddy who is trying to get ready for work. Instead, I felt a bit more refreshed than usual (perhaps the opposite of a hangover from having a LOT of extra sleep the night before?).

Today, I needed to go to the store and purchase not one, not two, but three birthday gifts for Saturday - only one is for my daughter, the other two for friends of Little B. Of course, having Miss C in tow, I hesitate to shop for her since she is acutely aware of all things snuck into hiding in, on, and under buggies. Crazy pixie of a girl. Instead, Little B puked after breakfast (boo!). BUT...that just meant I put off the trip (hooray!). The bright side here is that he's able to haul himself to the toilet versus being held the entire time and puking all over me as Baby J did last Saturday.

Then, it got better - he didn't throw up any more at all, no sirree bob. He began to feel better and better. He even did some of his school work that I assigned. I haven't pushed the rest, but that moment is imminent (I'm on the computer and, well, he has to use it to do the rest of his work or there is no 39 Clues gaming time). I still didn't go to the store because I was uncertain of what to expect.

Today I also planned to decorate for Miss C's Fancy Nancy Tea Party that is scheduled for Saturday afternoon - that is not easy with a 2 year old underfoot. But, the more I do now, the less for last minute, right? I got a glittery set of letters spelling out "Tea Party" made and hung (I could fit limited letters...those were her preference). Paper chains are in progress, as are streamers and a vase of lollipops and paper flowers and a multitude of other "fancy accessories" that are required.

My husband called with word that it will be at the very least just over 2 months (and likely even longer) before we have need to move. I love extra time. I will use it to continue purging and preparing and being glad that I KNOW I will not have to move before April. (I really hate packing and moving...think I've mentioned that before...) Maybe, just maybe I'll get brave enough to have a garage sale when the weather warms a bit more. (I also have tentative plans for craigslist, but I'm a big chicken.)

A few minutes ago, I opened an unexpected envelope with a long overdue refund from Little B's many rounds of therapy. I expected a very tiny check. It was a very large check. I actually gasped so loudly my son asked what was wrong.

But my most favorite part of the day: I got a phone call from a very dear friend of many, many years...Little B was named for his family. He was calling to tell me his wife is expecting their first baby! I could not stop smiling. My heart is so happy! Life is good.

heart and soul

2010-01-20T17:41:00.005-05:00

Remember in my delurking post where I mentioned that I bear my heart and soul on my blog? This is one of those.

I probably talked about this once upon a time, but as time goes on, the issue goes deeper. It's facebook. I know, I know, I could just unsubscribe to it, but I don't think that's the answer here.

See, I got on there thinking I'd "friend" a few of my "real" friends and let well enough alone. I was fine. Then I had a friend-frenzy and wondered why I didn't have enough friends. I mean, seriously, it was kinda silly. (You can laugh here...) I had a friend who got on long after me and racked up like 300 friends in a week or two. I was astounded. I still sit at 165. Happily. But, as her number surpassed my then 140ish (?) or so friends, I frantically dug around other people's lists to see who I knew well enough to want to friend. Like I said, feel free to laugh. Those days are long lost in the dust.

The thing is, I have found people I love dearly whom I had not spoken to in a decade or more. My heart is deep with those people. I have been in touch with them and found solace and love and healing and joy in that contact. Other friendships have grown into a bigger place in my heart. In that, facebook has been a wonder for me. There are more faces I hope to find some day. I love knowing how someone I care about is doing. It matters to me. Really matters. Being back in touch brings me so much joy.

Then, there are the myriad of names and faces I barely knew and hardly remember now. I could care less if they call me friend on this facebook thingy. It matters very little because they have never had a part of my heart or if they edged in on it, lost it long ago. Those names, I often just hide because, well, it matters not to me. (Then I feel bad when something pops up and I hear about it randomly and I think, maybe I should have been keeping tabs? Argh!)

And lastly are those names that while they are in my heart or have been once upon a time, they did not lose the edge, I still care deeply, and I'm very happy to have found them on facebook, but my heart feels so. . .so. . .help me with a word, here, people:

These are the friendships that shattered in youth, the lost flickers of love, the ones whose paths may not have taken the best turns, but still they matter to me. Waaaay deep down. I know, because when I find them, or they find me, I look to see what their lives are now - I care - then I agonize and ponder for a week or two over decisions long made, stands taken, and choices they have clearly traveled, even consequences they are facing. I ache with them, or for them, whatever the case may be. I still love these people of my heart. I know it is my opportunity to pray for them as well. And I believe that is part of the purpose in "seeing" them once more. I just need to remember that more often.

The thing is, I feel tired. Bone weary.
Tired of being pulled so many ways - up, down, all around - by these many faces on the book of internet connectivity. My heart is tired of aching, wondering and working to be appropriate. My mind is tired of trying to remember that any of those people on my "friend list" will be able to see any of my "status updates" at any given time. It's been a really long year in our home. This just feels like one more "thing." I wish I could delete the people I don't care enough about to bother making a comment, those that can't bother to be nice to me (oh, and there's the occasional "ignoring" of people whom I simply cannot tolerate to be in contact with - agony!), and simply not worry over propriety when I feel the need to check on someone.

In all, I find it peculiar to be in touch with so many facets of my life at one time. These are the fabric of my soul, the people who make up bits and pieces of who I have become and am still becoming.

(By the way, any of you who are my regular commenters, I consider my friend - and I would gladly call you so on facebook - and a few of you I do already.)

the power of no

2010-01-19T18:31:00.003-05:00

Recently, I've been saying NO.

Like, unsubscribing to the myriad emails I do not need. All the travel ones, all the Disney ones, all the ones that have coupons I am unable to use. I have a separate email now for the coupon stuff I can use and any free stuff I want to get. Then, If I have no further use for the site, I UNSUBSCRIBE to it. This is not a perfect system. But, it's a work in progress. The effort to use coupons (that have to be printed) requires certain reminders and emails and stuff. (I find it a bit of a pain, to be frank.)

Also, I have been learning to NOT answer my phone when it just isn't a good time for me. If I need the escape (from kids or husband or myself), I grab it like a lifeline. But if not, I am working to walk away.

I am throwing things out a bit faster (like the Land's End catalog I don't have any reason to look through once, much less twice...and no need to savor the free shipping for something I already know I'm not buying), learning to see what I need versus what I don't. I am working to notch down the stress one tiny bit at a time, to purge with a heavier hand when we're done with something. It's these little things that are adding up one bit at a time.

I'm putting my foot down for me. My days are feeling a tiny bit less like a stuffed turkey (in spite of the still cluttered kitchen counters...maybe I'll get to those soon). I like it. And I want to get better at it.

delurking day

2010-01-15T11:46:00.003-05:00

Okay, I've seen a few other blogs asking their readers to delurk...so I'm going to be a copy cat. This week or day (or whatever) is offically for delurking. I do not know how they know that. But it works for me.

I bear my heart and soul on here (when I get around to it at least), so if you are a reader, even just for today, please be so kind as to leave me a comment and let me know you stopped by.

Who are you?
Do I know you in real life, just in a virtual world, or not at all?
And while you're in the comment box, please tell me something about you....

Yes, I delurked/recommented on the blogs who asked. Therefore, I know if I can do it, you can surely do the same.

After that, go have a wonderous weekend!

it's my birthday and i'll cry if i want to. . .

2010-01-10T20:05:00.003-05:00

things NOT to do on your birthday:

-weigh yourself
-not shower so you have a bad hair day all day
-have a migraine
-try to nap in the living room surrounded by loud, cranky kids
-realize your facebook wall won't let anyone write on it
-take everyone to get your prescription refill, late in the day
-stay too long at the store
-agree to look at toys while at the store
-forget to run another rather urgent errand before heading home
-get home late for a fast dinner of canned soup and quesadillas
-still have a migraine hours after treating it
-realize you have not done nearly enough laundry in the past 3 days
-weigh yourself again

things that make even the birthday blues look brighter:

-remember how awesome last night's big family dinner was
-cozy up on the couch with a good book
-have mom's homemade enchiladas for lunch
-realize you actually got a bit more nap time than it felt like
-take migraine treatment of choice: 6 Motrin, icy Dr. Pepper, & Gardettos
-make Target your errand destination
-use gift card money on clearance toys for your kids' upcoming birthdays
-find birthday wishes on adjusted facebook wall (yes - pathetic - shut up)
-finally take a scalding hot shower
-and even shave your legs while you're in there
-put the kids to bed
-finish the last (and biggest piece) of the homemade chocolate cake
-watch the rest of Inkheart with your husband
-fall asleep knowing you spent the day with your most favorite people in the world

thankful thursday - baby j

2010-01-07T07:30:00.002-05:00

Two years ago I was awake all night after an hour or two of restless "sleep" - pacing and rocking on all fours. Around 3am my mom arrived; John hustled me into the car and off we went. Before dawn lit the sky, I held pure joy in my arms.

Baby J is happiness personified. Everywhere we have gone for the past two years (except on the occasional trip where he's plumb tired of being out and fusses) people have asked if he's always this happy? Well...yes. He gets fussy if he wants something but he doesn't have a boatload of words yet, so who can blame him. He gets angry if he's gated out of the kitchen or kept out of my room (those areas are kept closed to his curious ways). But generally speaking - he is truly a happy little person.

And snuggly and delicious and warm and sweet and lovey and kissy...oh, the list goes on. I cannot believe it's been a whole two years since first I held him in my arms. How completely he belongs with us - in our hearts, in our home. How much he adores his big brother and sister.

He also gets into more things than my other two kids put together. He empties the bookshelves like Miss C used to do, but then he climbs onto them (and gets stuck). He likes to sneak into a bathroom and undo as much as he can in the 10 seconds it takes for me to realize he's missing again - turn on the tub, unroll the toilet paper, flush the potty, dump the q-tips . . . . or meander out with the plunger if it's handy. He's artistically managed to sneak crayons and pencils (colored and plain alike) onto my walls several times in the past few months. Recently, he managed to climb up onto the cabinet in the playroom that our bird is on - I found him sitting there, face to her cage talking (a few minutes before, he'd climbed on something to reach over and attempt to open her cage...).

There is a thrill for him in sneaking into Little B's room and grabbing a Lego piece for a trophy of accomplishment or making it to Miss C's room and trying to play with her myriad of Littlest Pet Shop toys or the toy computer. He moves faster than I can; I gave up trying to keep up with him long ago. And, oh, the delight he gets from his escapades! There are not words for the grins and squeals and joy that ooze from him!

Yesterday, I spent a bit of extra time on the couch loving on him. At one point, I was naming body parts, he was pointing them out. After a moment I noticed a dry booger in his nose and did a total mommy thing - I picked his nose. I mean, what else would I do? Make a big deal out of it and get a tissue? That takes too long. He was amused. And proceeded to try to pick my nose for me - full of giggles....

Happy Birthday my little Tiger!

thankful thursday

2009-12-11T19:23:00.002-05:00

Yes, it's Friday. Night. That's beside the point, though. I'm chronically tardy and apparently this is no exception to the rule.

So, my Thankful Thursday - I'm thankful it's Friday! (haha!)

We no longer have school on Friday. I toyed with this idea for a couple weeks, tried it out, and now I have more reasons than ever for being glad I chose this route.

At first, my plan was simply to stretch school into a mostly year-round situation, spacing it out and keeping it from feeling like a pressure-gauge ready to go off as the end drew near. A lot of four day weeks mixed with a few three day weeks and some holidays/sick days and you still have breathing space at the end of the required 180 days. Just not 10 weeks of it. This keeps the consistency of school and busyness in balance, in my opinion.

In the month or so we've been doing this, I have discovered another reason I like Fridays off. It gives me a weekday to be a mom. Not in firm, gotta-do-it teaching mode (some days it's very much like that). Instead, it's a day that's not a weekend where only kid play is expected (it's still our library day which I sift into the school-ness of the week, time wise), chores are still supposed to happen, and it's not just "better because Daddy is home" like a weekend. I can take it easy like today, or we can run errands like other Fridays. It varies.

BUT. Mostly, it's just a normal day. Without school expectations. Of course, Little B spent part of the day voluntarily watching several DVD's on Language Arts and Science, and at bedtime he will likely be picking up (again) the book he's enraptured with from his Sonlight curriculum. Learning is everywhere. Even on the day "off."

time alone

2009-12-04T08:33:00.002-05:00

I got some much needed time alone yesterday. Yes, yes, some of it was at the grocery store buying a ton of cereal for 1/2 price since there was a one day special. And yes, the other half was spent getting a filling, complete with my first shot of lidocaine. I survived. Indeed, I felt refreshed for having sat there alone with complete attention on me for a while, not having to tend anyone else's needs. Just mine. Maybe not what I'd call "fun" but it was pretty much worth it for the down time.

Just how desperately pathetic does that make me???? Wait, maybe you shouldn't answer that. . . .

Thankful Thursday

2009-12-03T09:00:00.000-05:00

So, I thought I'd try out my concept of "Thankful Thursday." I don't know for sure if I'll stick with it, but I guess we'll find out. If you decide to join me, please leave me a message and I'll come read yours...

Rain.

I live at the edge of a lake (I can literally walk to it from a path across the street). I drive across the dam that makes said lake at least once, and often twice a week. The summer we moved in, three years ago, someone "accidentally over-drained" the lake while sending water to another state for a nearly extinct fish. By five feet. The lake started to look a little...sparse. Boats struggled some and many people were frustrated - a fish over the water supply for our own people? Yes, it's our water supply. I understood that frustration.

And at about the same time, our state entered into a drought. A drought that lasted a couple of years. I found myself praying for rain. Thankful for rain. Loving rain. Whenever we would get it, albeit briefly.

Last year, many skeptics spoke of how it would never come back up, it was too far gone, our water supply was never going to be able to meet our (overgrown area's) needs...etc. etc. I secretly laughed. There are always seasons and cycles to life. "This too shall pass," is one of my mother's favorite reminders. I felt it quite applicable in the matter of our water supply.

This past spring, our lake level was more than 19 feet down. Sparse was a kind word. Barren, more fitting. So many times I wished I had my camera to take pictures for my blog. The erosion was more clear each month as the water levels dropped, then the weeds began to grow and grow and cover it up. The signage in various bars no longer stuck up above water, but now the entire bars were growing weeds. The wall that held water back from a walking path was not only visible to a driver on the dam, but we could see the entire wall - and see where it met the ground below. That day I was amazed by just how low the water levels had dropped.

And then the rains began. It rained and rained and rained. And rained. And rained some more. Not many weeks back, there was a lot of flooding in our area. Each time we crossed the dam, we eagerly checked the digital sign showing the current lake level. We watched in anticipation as the numbers climbed, the shore receded, the weeds became tips above water.

A few weeks ago, our gorgeous lake was above the suggested lake level! The aforementioned sidewalk was indeed slightly flooding on one rainy afternoon. The lake was burgeoning with ripples and waves and boats.

Beautiful.

I am so thankful for the rain.

one word tag

2009-11-30T14:23:00.000-05:00

I was tagged in a meme by Hannah...it looked like fun, answering everything with one word, so here you have it... (by the way, I did this twice already, and the computer crashed so I have left my answers as they were the last time I answered this!)

1. Where is your cell phone? purse
2. Your hair? desparate
3. Your mother? genuine
4. Your father? fun
5. Your favorite food? chocolate
6. Your dream last night? wierd
7. Your favorite drink? coffee
8. Your dream/goal? overcome
9. What room are you in? kitchen
10. Your hobby? reading
11. Your fear? contamination
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? learning
13. Where were you last night? home
14. Something that you aren’t? punctual
15. Muffins? pumpkin
16. Wish list item? mp3
17. Where did you grow up? georgia
18. Last thing you did? clean
19. What are you wearing? jacket
20. Your TV? gift
21. Your pets? bird
22. Friends? wonderful
23. Your life? busy
24. Your mood? blueish
25. Missing someone? Mick
26. Vehicle? minivan
27. Something you’re not wearing? shoes
28. Your favorite store? Target
29. Your favorite color? grey
30. When was the last time you laughed? today
31. Last time you cried? today
32. Your best friend? husband
33. One place that I go to over and over? grocery
34. One person who emails me regularly? Sonlight
35. Favorite place to eat? Mexican

I'm not usually a big tagger blogger, but today I'm breaking out of my norm. So, I'm tagging you:

Donnetta

Mrs Lemon

bluehose

Laurel

. . . . and whoever else wants to play - just let me know you did and I'll come read it!

thankfulness - my mom

2009-11-26T08:00:00.001-05:00

Today marks the end of my little thankfulness series, and I think it appropriate for me to go back to the very beginning of me...being thankful for my mom.

Today also marks the the beginning of my mom - for it's her birthday!
My mom was born the day before Thanksgiving, the 10th of 11 children. She talks about how one of her older sisters had to make the turkey that year and it burned...and one brother in particular still likes to teasingly blame my mom for ruining that Thanksgiving. I have always loved hearing this story. It seems so normal and warm and cozy and precisely what family is all about.

My mother is one of those people who thinks very little of herself - she is always surprised when someone from many years ago remembers her, and not only that but specifically remembers her because of her genuineness, her gentle sharing and ministering, her simple ways of meeting needs, her always, always open home. She is equally surprised by the people who meet her once or twice, then seek her out.

Her support of me in the choices I make is that of a mother who knows when it's time to let her child learn to fly - she never tried to stop me from moving 3,000 miles away from home at 20 years old. When I wanted to get married at 21, she felt I had the right husband and was therefore behind me 100%. (She has often been heard saying she kept me because I married him...)

She has been down many roads in her lifetime. High roads, low roads and in between roads. And she is constant no matter the road she is on. She never pretends to be perfect, and is exactly who she seems to be.

One thing people have never understood about her is perhaps a favorite trait to me. She has been known to lie about her age quite often. But rather than say she is younger, she rounds up, indicating she is older. In her early forties, she'd say she was 45, then it was 50, and so on. She gets a kick out of doing this...but deep down it says something about her. She told me that aging is a privilege. Life is meant to be lived and enjoyed. By saying she is older rather than younger, she is embracing life, not hiding from it. We all got a good laugh several years back when she had to stop and think of what year she'd been born...she'd forgotten her real age!

I like to think my mom has had a large part in shaping who I am. She is a great comfort to me when the going gets tough. She reminds to call on the One who can hear me and answer me best. She loves me so unconditionally.

Happy birthday Mommy!

I'm thinking about having "Thankful Thursdays" as a part of my regular blogging as I've enjoyed this so much. Perhaps some of you will join me!

2009-11-25T08:19:00.001-05:00

Beware: it's an allergy-related posting. But oh, I'm feeling thankful!!

Little B and Miss C cannot have dairy products. There are about 2 different margarines that I can find in a typical grocery store that are safe for them - UNsalted Fleishmann's Margarine (sticks) and some Smart Balance Margarines (tubs) - I have to be very careful to get the right one with this. One way is to look for the word "parve" on the package. I believe there is one other more costly choice, Earth Balance, but this keeps it simple - the sticks for baking, the tub for a spread on bagels, etc.

Baby J cannot have soy. Let's keep this simple: all margarine has soy. That means it's virtually impossible to make baked goods safe for all three kids. Fun, I tell you.

Enter Spectrum's shortening made of palm oil only. No dairy. No soy. Not even cross contaminated with any of the other allergies. Sounds like it solves the problem, right? I should be so thankful. Right?? NOT.

It took two tries - using it in some icing on a cake (gluten free for hubs and baby) and attempting some Chex Muddy Buddies (modified w/sunbutter versus peanut butter, etc) to discover that John apparently had some issues with palm oil. So....not a good substitute after all.

I was feeling forlorn trying to figure how to solve this dilemma. I have a completely allergy safe pumpkin pie recipe and dug for a gluten free/safe crust. BUT could not figure what to use to replace the need for a butter/margarine/shortening ingredient. Forlorn, indeed....

Then, at the grocery store I ran across coconut oil. To be fair, I'd seen it by Spectrum but theirs was cross-contaminated, so could not be used for my family. But this one does not seem to have any hindering factors. It just has coconut oil. AND, since this whole crew of mine can easily and often drink coconut milk, I simply cannot foresee a problem.

Woohoo! Yeah, very thankful. 8-)

thankfulness - librarian of the year

2009-11-24T17:19:00.003-05:00

I've been pondering what I am thankful for today...as in what thing to I tell you about? And today, well, let's just make it a bit lighter, huh?

I love my favorite librarian. She's so much kinder about lost books and late fees than, say, my lesser favorites or my least favorite. We keep a LOT of books out at a time. Little B can easily devour a book a day, and if they are simpler books, a dozen in a week plus some serious re-reading time. I vary...during the summer I inhaled them like oxygen because I could. I knew once school started that would need more attention, being my first year with it. I've enjoyed some since then, but not so many. My husband listens to books on CD since he can't find time to read them. And then there's Miss C, bed time stories, and my nonfiction "wow that looks interesting" books, and any homeschooling books we need at the time (we get what we can from there for our Sonlight and random unit studies), plus some kids movies and science or history DVDs, etc...get the picture? On average, 50ish books at a time are out (rarely less than 30, though I've seen it hit 81), and I am a huge fan of the online renewal that lets me do it twice in row.

Friday is library day. It makes my kids simply pant with anticipation for the new books ("If you only turned in three, you can only check out three" . . . "But MOOOMMMY, I really like this one!"). Baby J, well, he gets a thrill, too, removing DVDs and books from the shelf and stacking them on the floor by his stroller.

And "my" librarian. She likes my kids. She enjoys their love of all things book. She makes sure I know on "those" days (when I can barely contain varying issues (who us?) among sibling treatment, books I don't find appropriate, antsy waiting in line, or me with migraine) that she likes us, that it's gonna be fine, that my kids are always welcome in that library...the list goes on. I seek her out, I wait until she's available if I have a question or need help.

Little B has his own library card. He's uber proud of it, too. But, it's a responsibility. If you have three "claims returned" (missing but you thought you turned it in) books on your card, it gets suspended. Little B reached the point of 2 this summer. And then it happened: a third went missing. Fortunately, it wasn't due yet. I made sure I was talking to her when I wanted to discuss my options...the "least favorite" had been less than helpful or kind (contrary to what the fave had suggested) with another incident and was less than computer savvy on two occasions...so, my fave said she'd renew the book and give us time to find it. She also priced out the now-three books and suggested that if he had to pay for one to keep his card going, to pay for the cheapest. The weeks ticked by. It was due last Friday and we still could not find any of those books to help us out. I asked if she could renew it once more (twice in a row is allowable as long as no one has it on reserve). Alas, someone had it on reserve....but you know what?? She renewed it for us anyway! What a librarian! We got a little more time to find it...(and that person couldn't have had this copy anyway, so why not!?).

Today, a miracle happened. We found the most expensive of the books in the dark caverns beneath the playroom couch. Woohoo! Nothing like cleaning out some corners. Little B was elated - "I'm safe!" Of course, ideally, we could find the other two as well, but at least now he can "claims returned" the current one if need be and not have a penalty...whew...

All that nonsense to say, SHE MAKES MY DAY! When I feel haggard on a Friday, migrained out, PMSish or tired of dealing with a melt-down week with certain kids...I look forward to her kind face on Friday, knowing she likes my kids even when I don't (well, you know what I mean)and will be nice to me.

Oh yeah, I am thankful for my own personal librarian of the year!

thankfulness - His ways

2009-11-22T23:46:00.004-05:00

I'm not sure who reads my blog and doesn't admit it...or if there are even such people out there. It makes me a little nervous because I have this friend whose wonderful blog I just finally had to comment on - and I know people who read it. Therefore I have a quaking fear of someone clicking "cjoy" and finding my blog and saying, "OMIGOSH ... I know her!" If that's you, please just 'fess up, 'kay? I'd feel better knowing who has found my private haven, even if my anonymity is gone. Thanks.

All that aside . . . or perhaps because of it, I have a post that makes me lose face. It shares the deep and the personal and for a while I could not pinpoint why it made me thankful or how to go about sharing it or even if I should. Today I knew how to go about it at last. Please, bear with me....

I've talked about how my husband's job has offered only decreases in pay for quite some time (40% is a pretty accurate number for the most part). I've told you some of the many issues in our home...
Regarding allergies, Miss C's alternative treatments are not covered by insurance; and I assure you our grocery bills are not pretty, even when I can find a stack of coupons (I'm the only one who has no dietary restriction).
Regarding my oldest, we've paid a lot lot lot on therapies for years now...much out of pocket or deductibles and co-pays by the fistful in spite of choosing the better insurance (which has been great for certain docs and referrals, etc).
There are too many things to list or explain. You get the idea, though.

Around the new year, we slowly had to stop paying on our credit cards. Yes, plural. And yes, it was high. Were we reckless? I don't believe so. Mostly it was to counter the cost of the medical and sometimes to help someone else. I cannot regret either of those choices. (And we paid faithfully for many years.)

I mentioned a few weeks back, when I "returned" to my blog, that there was a practical reason we're selling our house...it's called "can't afford it any more" - and we're attempting a short sale (means the mortgage company will take less than we owe just to get it off their hands). We've had it on the market nearly 3 months. We've shown it 3 times now. At a greatly reduced price. That's not exactly hopeful.

That said, we actually truly feel the Lord has led us to this point. In spite of the stress that should completely suck me under here, I cannot tell you how deeply the peace has carried us. We're even at a point where if we had NOT had debt, we'd be in a hole. The difference being that we'd probably have reduced our house payment by 2/3 and therefore not be able to sell and move where He so clearly wants us to go! Interesting how "all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28)

We fully expect that at any time they could foreclose on us. Most days, as I said, this does not bother me at all. I know. Crazy. Especially when about 2 or so years ago, I was heard saying to my husband, "As long as we never lose our house...."

Now, I'm glad the Lord heard me say that and challenged me on it. I'm thankful he is stripping me of it. Truly, figuring out what to feed my family 3 meals a day, day after day, is much more stressful to me than losing my home. I loathe packing and never wanted to do it again. That is a bigger stress. Yes, it's very humbling and I don't want to share it with the world. But then again, I've had so much of that peace, and this sense of thankfulness...I could not quite pinpoint it until today, when I felt a little lower. The gray months of winter that lie ahead don't feel so promising. Then a song began to play in my head from many years ago...

His ways are higher than mine,
Much higher.

Higher, higher,
Much, much higher,
Higher, higher,
Much higher...

Isaiah 55:9
For as the heavens are higher than the earth
So My ways are higher than your ways,
And My thoughts higher than your thoughts.

Oh, how very thankful I am that my God's ways and thoughts are higher than mine.

thankfulness - in the details

2009-11-22T23:08:00.003-05:00

I am so thankful for Bananagrams (I won it over at Hannah's blog not long ago). My son and I have a blast with this game. Definitely a must for any Scrabble fan, which I am. Also, Miss C has taken some strong interests in sounding out randomly chosen words when she wanders in while Little B and I are playing it. She's anxious to learn to read and it simply whets her appetite. While looking through a homeschooling catalog, I saw Pairs and Pears which might just be up her alley. Fun stuff!

Oh...I cannot forget - a fixed-again toilet is also at the top of my gratitude today. We've bought new parts once before, then rigged those when they failed repeatedly. Needless to say, I was quite weary of reaching into the lid to make it flush.

And now, I'm going to brush my teeth and wash my face and try to convince myself that staying up late to finish reading The Actor and the Housewife is really not a good idea....

thankfulness - Miss C

2009-11-21T21:12:00.003-05:00

Today I got out to the grocery store...alone. And then I came home, ate lunch, put Baby J down for his nap and left the boys in the dust; I took Miss C to go shopping. Target (yes, again) and Kid to Kid (2nd hand kid's stuff). She never whined, complained, felt annoyed...wait, is this sounding redundant?? She savored every drop of her soy hot chocolate from Starbucks, was thrilled with the clothes we found for her at Kid to Kid (and tried them on like a champ in a chilly dressing room), and when I thanked her for spending the afternoon with me shopping, she squealed in delight and thanked me for letting her come!

I'm so thankful for my Ladybug.
She is strong. Her allergies control her life in a thousand ways and while it can be disappointing, she is amazing through it all. In recent months we've been getting her alternative allergy elimination treatments that have made great strides in her immune system and health as well as healing some of the allergies...we definitely still have a ways to go, but during these last months we've seen so many changes in her. In the beginning, she was quiet, more shy than not, and almost "lethargic" - though not in a medically alarming way, just not very active. "Mousy" may well have been an apt description of her. As the weeks of treatments have progressed, she has become bolder and more chatty (and not just with us), her sparkly, glowing personality has emerged, something we'd only barely seen glimpses of before now. Her skin is prettier, her hair a bit thicker...generally more healthy. It has made me so thankful we found these treatments for her. Miss C's case is especially complex and has required several re-treatments. But she has clearly begun feeling better. And with that, we have so much more of our little girl to enjoy.

Miss C has a gorgeous singing voice (she SO did not get that from me...but her daddy can sing with the best!), her big brown eyes sparkle with humor and can I just say that still waters run deep? The observations this girl can point out startle me sometimes.

She totally made my day today. And my heart is full and overflowing with thanks for her!

thankfulness -

2009-11-20T08:43:00.003-05:00

I slacked - well, my computer's operating system crashed, so I kinda couldn't get online for posting my thankfulness posts. That made me sad. I was so looking forward to them.

However, it's back and functioning and I'm going to do a quick summary of thankfulness for all the days I missed...can't back down on what I'd planned, ya know?

Sunday
I woke up being thankful for my husband's extra hours at work. Since over a year ago his job has provided a lot of pay cuts, lay offs, and hour cuts. Things are no longer just tight around here...they're cutting off the circulation. HOWEVER. He does have a job still. And the past two weeks he was given opportunity to work a lot of extra hours. Now, when I say a lot of extra hours, I mean he worked over 70 hours in one week. He pulled an all-nighter. He would come home long after I was able to stay awake to see him. The kids and I just kissed him goodbye again each morning - if he wasn't already gone when we woke. Truly, it was a really bad week around here. But those hours were so desperately needed that I couldn't be upset about them. Yes, my thankfulness had some low moments, but overall, thankfulness won. And, as of Wednesday, he's back to working a bit more normal of a schedule, though there's a possibility of another rush after Thanksgiving.

Monday
I wasn't feeling very thankful on Monday. Or Tuesday. And only a little bit on Wednesday. Though really it seems that stretched much further than a few days; I can't remember any more. I was struggling very hard with meltdowns (mine and not mine), migraines (just mine...the multi-day kind), missing my husband, not being able to use my computer (just the icing on top, really)....it was one of "those." And in the midst of the fog I was barely surviving in, I kept thinking about my thankfulness posts and how I would need to be able to write something for those days. Because I was determined to be thankful in spite of it all. And so I am. I am so, so, SO thankful that I am not a single mom. Truly. And, I am thankful that in those days I still have Someone supplying me with mercy and grace. Because boy-howdy, I NEEDED it. Too, I was thankful my mom and dad came down to be part of that mercy and grace through my evening. It eased the burdens so much.

Tuesday
In spite of my abundance of grumpiness, this is the day we discovered that the only cost for repairing my laptop was the purchase of an external hard drive. Woohoo! Some networking guys at my husband's office had said they'd try to just restart the operating system and see if that helped...it did! I'm thankful for the lack of repair cost and the new external hard drive which we hope will keep the laptop running a bit easier. That's big in our world. My husband has picked up some extra income testing software and needs the laptop for it. A new laptop would not have been easy to come by right now!

Wednesday
The tears continued, the grumps were in full swing (remember, not all of it stemmed from me), and I just plum wanted out. But, in leaving the house for any errands just draws out the complaints and gripes and overwhelmed-ness that my oldest has been mired in. Stores and Little B have never, ever meshed well. It's been better as he's gotten older, but recently we're experiencing some set-backs (unless we are spending all our time on the Lego aisle...unfortunately, that does not feed us or brush our teeth, or diaper Baby J....you get the idea). So, my efforts to leave the house weren't exactly...positive.

However - by the time John got home, I was thankful for several reasons:
1. On this day my husband did not have to work late. He didn't get home in time for dinner, but he did get home before bedtime for the kids! Definitely a step in the right direction and a strong lift in attitude began for the little people (and consequently, me!).
2. He spent the day downtown in an all-day meeting. When we'd have liked for him to head home, he had to go to the office to chat it up with his boss...well, talk shop. Finally, he headed home. Five minutes into his drive (we were chatting on the phone in my dire need for adult contact and most especially my need to have a real conversation with my love - we'd only spoken in passing or on small meal breaks for too long), he realized he'd forgotten my laptop - it was fixed! So, he turned around to get it.
3. While there, his boss stopped him - he wanted to thank John for his work. And give him a hundred dollars (it was his own money - not company money). Yeah, the tears leaked then. The instructions that went with it were, "Take your wife out to eat." We got take out Mexican since neither of us had eaten yet, but hope to have a time for just the two of us soon!

Thursday
Last night I went out with my mom to Toys R Us...I think it's just as exciting as when I was a kid looking at those toys in awe! haha! I stopped by WalMart for some cold meds for Little B. And then my mom got me dinner at Captain D's. I want you to notice that the only thing I did for a couple of hours was go to stores and talk to another adult (yes, I talked about my kids, and shopped for them, but they weren't there begging, "annoying", whining, crying or dying to go home). I cherished that time. I needed that time. I was and still am immensely thankful for that time!!

Friday
Ah, today. It's here at last. Today I am thankful that I made the decision to take Fridays off from homeschooling (consequently, we'll school year-round, but I love this plan!). I am thankful that the attitudes and meltdowns of a few days ago are beginning to balance out (we're pretty sure that the change in Daddy's hours were wreaking havoc with more than just mommy). I'm thankful for the sweet little lovey kisses Baby J is SO good about sharing with me. I'm thankful the sun is out, the house was a deliciously cold 64 degrees when I woke up, that Little B only needed a few threats to get his chores done and that tomorrow is Saturday.

And a little bonus: I'm thankful to you for reading all the way down here. Even if you skimmed or skipped to get here. Hopefully, the computer will continue to cooperate and I will not have nearly a week's worth next time!

thankfulness - in everything

2009-11-14T09:00:00.000-05:00

Last night I spilled my latte. I was not, NOT happy. In fact, I confess to spilling a few tears after I heard the last of the latte gurgle into the van's dark depths.

To understand this fully you must understand the way my mind works. As you likely can't forget since I talk about it all the time, my kids have allergies galore -the oldest two to dairy, Miss C especially. We have gotten her some treatments that have decreased the severity of her reactions. However. You have to realize the ingrained, gut reaction to any type of cow-by-product spilling or smearing or melting or dripping or cross-contaminating makes my heart pound and my whole being kick into gear - "How can I best clean this up???"

No, my house is far from tidy. Not that kind of cleaning. Just in case you thought I was a clean-a-holic, 'cause I'm SO not.

Since my husband has had a solid week of late nights and will again be working Sunday through Friday super late next week (deadlines upon deadlines that I am actually very thankful for), I decided that to ease my single-parent bedtime routine a little, I'd get everyone ready except for brushing their teeth and take them out for hot chocolate - except Baby J, who I planned to have fall asleep on the drive. He cooperated until we got home.

My son gleefully chugged his entire kid-sized-soy-hot-chocolate before we were hardly out of the parking lot. My daughter has the rest of hers in the fridge to be heated again tomorrow. Go figure. Me...well, I went for a Tall decaf latte. I likenoLOVE plain lattes. With dairy milk. (Soy lattes are gross. I tried. Once.) And I so rarely get them that I was all in a dither over it. But, the hole in the lid was too small to let in air so I could barely get any drink to my mouth. I had decided to wait and make the hole bigger at home. But along the way, I heard the cup call my name and opted for one more effort at a sip - at which time the lid must have popped off because it never made it to my mouth. Rather I heard my van take a deep drink of my latte in the dark of night when I could not see to rescue it.

I pulled over into an empty turn lane but by then the cup had about two drops left. I thought at that moment that I was SO NOT THANKFUL even though it was probably God's way of telling me I wasn't really supposed to order it, that I was just being a glutton. And my heart was racing because I'd just spilled a dairy beverage all over (the mess that is) the front of my van. Technically, it landed in a canvas bag of stuff that was hung between the seatbelts...and all over a slew of papers...and soaked into the carpet. I really didn't feel thankful, except maybe for the roll of toilet paper (I had it in there for our extended colds - better than Kleenex any day!) because it seemed to soak up a good bit of dairy-infested latte.

And that is where my thankfulness began.

"In everything give thanks..." (I Thessolonians 5:18a)

I had to think on it a bit. But I did find things to be thankful for in my lost latte. I was thankful for only ordering the Tall. My preferred Grande would have cost more, spilled way more and caused more dairy-stress. I was also thankful that Baby J didn't wake up until I came IN the house from cleaning up (he was standing at the front door watching me). And, as I cleaned I came across the "foot" to the baby swing I just gave someone; I felt bad giving it to her when I realized that was missing! Besides, a little prompting to clean out the van is always something to be thankful for, right?!

Mostly, I'm thankful that in spite of my spilled latte, it was a pleasant outing with my kids. And, I had an opportunity to say, "Thank you Lord for the spilled latte..."

thankfulness - homeschooling

2009-11-12T09:02:00.004-05:00

As I've mentioned before, we decided to homeschool Little B at the end of second grade. I had never, ever considered it before because I was sure I could not handle it. But by this time I could no longer handle sending him to school each day, only to see him come home in a deep funk full of frustration and anger. Here is a bit of what led up to such a big decision for us:

My son is very sensitive and fairly "high needs." He's also incredibly intelligent. He struggles with the atmosphere a classroom provides and that resulted in a whole lot of difficult days. The first day after spring break probably was pretty typical for him. Most likely, by the time he was asked to do his least favorite assignment ever - log about a book he'd read - he had been picked on and bullied; survived lunch with the intense loudness that accompanies any typical lunchroom, but is especially overwhelming to him; no doubt been reminded to stay on task several times; and was feeling as though he was worthless and couldn't do anything right. His teacher was known to bend over backwards to help him, so she was never the source of his problems, though he didn't understand that at the time.

That is only a tiny taste of what led up to the point in his day when he once again fell apart. I know this sound ridiculous to some, like a lack of discipline to others. But for him, the world truly came crashing down at that moment. That assignment pushed him over the edge and he could no longer handle much of anything after the stressors he'd worked around and tried to cope with all day. Simply put, it was the straw that broke the camel's back.

And so on this day of all days, Little B was yelling at his teacher that he had an escape plan if she wouldn't listen. Now, she did listen - every single day - but logging wasn't something she could waive just for him. I understand that. In Little B's mind, though, he just couldn't handle another day of forced writing about something that was already written down in the book (he thinks that if you want to know, you should read the book...I understand that, too). And he escaped by trying to run away from school.

Why? Because all he wanted was to go home to his bed, away from the source of his stress, and calm down. That spoke so loudly to me. And during the week of suspension that ensued, I enforced the discipline they chose, but at the same time we began talking about homeschooling. The following Monday he was allowed to go back to school, but we withdrew him instead. And I have never looked back.

I am thankful for a thousand things in this. I'm thankful his class had a door to the outside that tempted him because it made me stop and listen really carefully to how I could meet his needs.

I'm thankful I no longer feel building anxiety as I check my email 5-10 times a day wondering if his teacher has emailed me to let me know of his latest struggle in class (she did that at my request).

I'm thankful that though I must toe the line with him particularly on hard days, a hard day homeschooling (and we have them in spades, believe me) simply doesn't compare to even an average day in public school. In fact, on the hardest days of all, I am more deeply thankful that he is at home with me versus sitting embarrassed and angry at himself in front of 17 other kids and other grown ups.

I'm thankful for:

the increase in flexibility,

the decrease in stress,

the increase in time with my son,

the decrease in time spent on school assignments,

the increase in enjoyment of learning.

thankfulness - my husband

2009-11-12T09:00:00.002-05:00

I have the most amazing husband.
My thankfulness for him is deep and wide and overflowing.
My words to express them are not even close to adequate.

When he married me, I had health problems that were yet to be discovered - but before our first wedding anniversary, I'd had surgery and been put on medications that caused drug-induced menopause for 6 months or more. Oh, my friends...no woman should go through such a thing twice, and certainly not at 22 years old! And no man should have to live through that twice -certainly not at 22 years old!! What a time that was. He was a college student and working full time, I was working and going through hormone changes that you cannot begin to fathom yet. At the end of those months, we laughingly said we'd survive anything if we made it through menopause in the first year of marriage.

We've learned together to choose the right perspective on so many issues over the years. We have not had an easy life by any standard. Half our marriage so far, he was working on his degree. We started having kids before he graduated. Food allergies dominate meal times. Special needs of varying degrees sprinkle through the house, some bigger than others. Issues I won't even go into dominate our lives right now. But, you know what? They eventually fall into place and we just move on, figuring it out, working through it, and being glad we're together during it all.

I would not trade this man or the life we have together for anyone in the world. He lights up my days. I am happier when he comes home. I want to grow old with him. He's the best kisser on earth. He makes me laugh. He laughs with me. I am completely myself with him. He works so hard to care for all of us. He even does the dishes for me when I get too far behind (without griping, too).

And he wanted to marry ME! I don't understand that...but I sure won't challenge him on it, either. I'm SO thankful for my husband.

thankfulness

2009-11-11T08:52:00.003-05:00

I've been seeing a lot of "thankful" postings on facebook this week. Several people are doing a thankful post every day until Thanksgiving, which I think is great. But, I'm going to do a thankful blog every day until Thanksgiving. My heart is full to overflowing in so many ways, even on the hardest days of all. So, I can't imagine that this will be a difficult task in the least. Indeed, it makes me sad that someone could even think they'd run out of things to be thankful for.

I had a little mental list of the order in which I wanted to state my thankfulness, but in truth I should share my heart each day, not have a hierarchy of thanks.

So, since today is Veteran's Day, I will start by saying I'm thankful for those who have served in our military and fought for our freedom. It is far from an easy job and no doubt few receive the credit truly due them for their service. I am surrounded by those who serve our country and often don't give enough consideration to what they do for me. I live this life the way I do because of them. There is much to be thankful for in that simple fact.

Today, I have planned a small lesson for Little B about Veteran's Day. He just sat down as I typed this and noticed some of the papers at his counter-top "desk" and began talking about Veteran's Day - he told me that today is for celebrating and honoring the people who used to and do work in the military. The music teacher at his school the past few years was a veteran and each year he spent his class time on Veteran's Day talking about his service. I'm so glad he did - it clearly instilled a respect in my son for our military.

I know I am surrounded by people in my life who serve or have served our country - I am honored to know them and thankful for them to the core of my being. They protect our freedom for so many things, not the least of these is the freedom to openly love and worship my Lord.

pink at 11am

2009-10-23T14:11:00.004-04:00

Friday is library day in our little homeschool world. Unless the van battery dies or someone is really sick, we take our regular trek sometime between open and close....I'm consistent like that.

This morning we managed to leave around 11am. I am torn as to whether I like story time or not since
1. only Miss C is the right age and
2. while Little B is content now to sit and read his own books for however long we're there (I took him ONCE as a preschooler...and only once), Baby J is a whole 'nother story these days; plus
3. story time is Fridays at 11:30am at our branch (also known as lunchtime and Baby J's naptime if you get my meaning).
I got in the van convincing myself I could get in and out before it started.

As it turned out, I was distracted and we stayed for story time. It went pretty well and there was even a craft for Miss C to do. Baby J only wailed during the craft part since he was tired of playing with my cell phone. Not bad.

But, I digress.
This is about why I was distracted.
And what time we were leaving. 11am.

As we drove through our small town's Main Street, there were ladies (and even men) wearing bright pink shirts, holding pink pom poms and carrying large signs ("Thank you for walking!") on the sidewalk, cheering loudly as others walked past. The crowds thickened a bit as I got closer the square, and once there, it was full of pink-clad people taking a break - you no doubt know of what I speak.

While breast cancer has never been the cause of death for someone I love, it has certainly touched my life more than once. And on this cloudy day it touched my life once more as tears clogged my throat and filled my eyes. My children wanted to know what the cheering was, why everyone was in pink, what is was all about. I could only say I'd explain in a minute. I had to say that several times since nothing else would come out of my mouth. Instead tears leaked down my face.

I was surprised by how deeply this was affecting me. It made me so proud to be among them, even for a moment. It gave me loving thoughts of the women I've known who have battled breast cancer. And it kept me from explaining to my kids until after we'd arrived at the library. But, explain it I did, slowly and choked up, and loved the compassion on my 8 year old son's face. (I took the time to suggest he not discuss it publicly, because of his age and the personal nature of the cancer.)

As we returned home, the square was drab and lonely, one pink-shirted lady on a bench with a friend, port-a-potties empty and stands being put into trucks. My kids had hoped for another chance to see the crowd and so had I. And I'm really glad I headed to the library at 11am this morning. It was definitely the right time today.

(For those of you who love to read like I do, there is a fabulous fiction novel about a woman with breast cancer - Reconstructing Natalie by Laura Jensen Walker.)

moving forward

2009-10-19T14:56:00.002-04:00

More than a year ago, I posted about my heart crossing a line.

We have not moved yet, but our hearts are still open, ready and willing. Just waiting on His timing.

Once we were ready to list our house, He changed it up on us. Suddenly, John was pulled back into the main office with no return to the remote location in the foreseeable future. He is still in the main office and we drive over an hour every few weeks to attend the Lord's Day meeting we are led to be a part of. It makes for long, long days. Our desire to be closer grows each month.

My heart is so completely toward "College Town" that it beats a little faster when we drive into that area. My love for my current house is so diminished that I find it is simply a place to reside with a tree that I adore in the back yard and a few nice features for creature comfort. My street feels cold as the neighbors have always been too busy with their own lives to get to know us - despite our many efforts. I am now homeschooling, so our initial draw to this area is no longer an issue - it was their amazing school system! God has surely been lining things up and making changes and working in our hearts for a period of time.

And now we're moving forward. We have listed our home for sale, about two months ago. It's for practical purposes - but God surely uses the practical to work out His purpose! Our peace before Him is to move partway between work and church so as to be simple and practical. We'll rent so that if there is opportunity to move again it will be an easier task.

I am eager for the adventure lying ahead, working to be patient in the wait that is now. But, at the same time, I have plenty to keep me busy in the meantime!

whhhoooooooo * *

2009-10-14T13:53:00.003-04:00

cough, cough, choke, cough

Yeah, that's me blowing the dust off my humble little blog. Poor penny...long neglected.

Missed you, whoever is out there still....do I hear an echo? Oh well. No more readers, probably. I'm not even positive if I'll find time to truly revive her. But, I've decided spontaneously to give it a try. Bear with me, push me along, and help me get better, 'kay? Thanks for that vote of confidence!

We're in the midst of our first homeschool year. It is so, so much better than school ever was for Little B. He is thriving, reading like a little professor, soaking up anything he can learn, and loving (almost) every minute. Our hard moments are fewer and futher between. A beautiful thing! His struggles are so much easier to keep in hand and work with. He is halfway through the math curriculum already - so I gave him 2 weeks off; we'll pick it up again on Monday. I have used that time to dig deeper into his Lego Education unit...oh, the joy. School with Legos. It truly doesn't get any better than that. This past week he's written a story about some Secret Agent Lego adventures that he's now revising (those would be the play Lego sets, not the school ones).

Miss C...Oh, Miss C is beginning to thrive in new ways. This summer we began some holistic treatments for her food allergies (NAET). She had reached the ripe number of 12 foods she reacted to, so we were way past time to test the waters here. At the moment, she does not eat the peanuts or milk intentionally (and we plan to wait until she's an adult for that), BUT when she ate them entirely by accident (both were in the same food - leave it at a very hectic week where I blundered in a purchase big time), she never reacted at all! This is my epi-pen girl I stay terrified of rushing to the ER. She is also now able to eat carrots, and we're waiting to hear about honeydew, canteloupe and watermelon. The neatest part is that as we are strengthening her immune system in these treatments, she is beginning to have way more energy, be more bold and outgoing, and blossom like a radiant flower. It's lovely to behold!

Then there is Baby J...going on 2 in a few months, which takes my breath away. So not ready for that. He's added a hefty list of allergies to his little self as well, and we can't afford to treat them yet (my hubby has developed a few of his own...the life we live is...interseting...), but after a year of agony, I have finally got this boy sleeping through the night - by taking out those foods that the allergist said were "too low (on the bloodwork) to really call allergies". Boy howdy, the difference in our lives when the boy sleeps is amazing! I had not slept 6 hours straight in a very, very long time.

Of course, HIS allergies are not at all the same at Miss C's, but my husband and Little B both have some of the same ones that he has...so if you want to know where I've been, I've been trying to figure out what these people I claim as family CAN eat. Dinner anyone?

A new endeavor I have is a book on allergies and what to do when they happen in your family...interesting, large project for a mom with 3 kids and not enough time. But, it's what I know and I do know most of it quite well! And none of the books I have come across really lay it out simply and chase away all the confusion. That is my goal.

Off to chase a few more cobwebs away but I'll return. Really. If you come along for the ride...

don't let the bed bugs bite

2009-06-04T19:08:00.002-04:00

We don't use our master bathroom shower. Mostly, this is because it's too stinkin' far from the water heater and it's rare we can get enough hot water to call it a real shower. I like to be red from the heat - that shower has never provided what I need. The hall bath, on the other hand, comes much closer and if we've run a hot load of laundry or the dishwasher recently, I may be lucky enough to get red skinned by the end.

But that's not the point of my post. I tell you about the shower because we have failed to run water in it for a while. That means the p-trap has no water to prevent bugs from coming in (or odors, but then we haven't noticed a problem with either of these things until a few days ago). This week, we suddenly noticed several centipedes in the late evening. Not a pretty creature at 11pm to say the least.

And when you have left your pj pants on the bathroom floor (as in, next to the tub, not in the room with the potty) for a measly five minutes or so, and you then crawl into bed only to find a centipede IN your pajama pants BITING your butt (well, close to your butt, not on it), and it's too dark to see what in tarnation you've grabbed - it's really not a good thing, my friends. You will not go to sleep right away after such an event, either.

Run the water. Daily.
And don't let the bed bugs bite. It doesn't feel good. I know first hand.
I'm also wigged out by the creatures, quite thoroughly.

{{shudder}}

the beginning

2009-04-21T12:19:00.002-04:00

So, today we started homeschooling.

Yesterday was the big day of withdrawing him from school and turning in our intent to homeschool. He seemed a bit emotional and cranky and with the huge change I decided to "take a day off" on the first day. ha!

Today went decently well. I don't have official curriculum, so I'm working to cover the topics he's accustomed to in each of the main subjects....reinforcing the math and spelling, etc. For science, I tried a totally different approach - we have the book The Way Things Work by David Macaulay that completely delights Little B...so, I had him choose a topic and write a few sentences on how it works. Later this week, we'll research it online as well as at the library. If applicable he can attempt to build it. He loves to read and will do plenty of that without my prompting, so I'll encourage some history stories and have him talk about it with me. And a friend made him a special writing notebook a while back with a box of "writing prompts" to encourage stories and thoughts on paper...we'll use that as a great tool in the coming weeks as well. As for PE, he's taking Taekwondo three times a week, so it keeps it simple!

Our school system only has 5 weeks left (25 days, starting yesterday), counting this week. I gave myself a few extra weeks to finish our school year when I turned in the form just so we can get a good feel for what works best.

Next year, I will need a good curriculum. I have begun diving into the depths of this new world; I hope I surface with confidence! The options are vast and I want to choose a curriculum that will work well for him. Thankfully, I've got a few friends who homeschool and can offer tips and suggestions.

Miss C started homeschool today as well - she was SO excited that she was ready to start an hour early and did all the sheets I'd printed for most of the week. I do believe I'll need to look further for resources for her. She's hoping to learn to read soon!

Keeping up with Baby J each morning will be my biggest challenge. . .

new adventures lie ahead

2009-04-15T11:52:00.002-04:00

I've been AWOL for a while, mostly gone, rarely here. But, a new adventure lies ahead of me. What it holds, I cannot fathom. I think it will decrease the stress for my son and his struggles every day. I think it will give us a modicum of routine that is a bit less intense, allowing us to address and help cope with some more personal issues as they arise.

Little B has had a very, very hard year. He has been struggling desparately with bullies and stress and anxiety and completely unable to cope with anything by half way through the day, if he makes it that far. Suffice it to say, where we are is the culmination of months of agony for him and therefore for us.

I am almost positive I will turn in our Letter of Intent to Homeschool on Monday, perhaps even tomorrow. My life is surely about to take a change. I need to create a schoolroom from the messy bonus room upstairs, find six weeks of school work that is grade-level appropriate for him, and learn the ropes of what and how. Thankfully I am surrounded by homeschooling friends, but it feels a wee bit daunting for me. Yes, there are 6 weeks left, but the very prospect of it lightens his heart so much that the look on his face pushes me forward. I know it's the right thing.

birthday bash

2009-03-26T09:00:00.002-04:00

Last weekend my Little B turned eight. Read that: E I G H T. I'm not certain how I missed the last eight years because I swear I haven't taken my eyes off of him for half a second, but he is definitely all of eight years old. (And his glasses make him amazing cute which frightens me just a bit.) This sweet boy of mine is . . . just who God ordered. I'm so glad my Lord doesn't make mistakes. I love my Little B in ways that I never fathomed.

So, a week before his birthday we took him and three buddies to play lazer tag. What a fun way to celebrate! Actually, only dads were present, but I hear it was awesome. Definitely worth a repeat, I believe.

Then, on his real birthday we just had my family over. My mom had to work that evening, so she and my dad visited in the afternoon and had some cake with us, then after they left, my brother came over - he hadn't been sure he could make it - and he had dinner with us. (Life is short, eat dessert first!)

But the real birthday bash came around lunch time, just before my parents arrived - Little B was riding his bike and literally bashed his elbow by running into the parked car we had not yet moved out of his way....oops. He was amazing, though, not crying or screaming or complaining while I cleaned the wound. It was quite large and bloody and gross and required a bit of gauze and tape for a couple of days. No stitches, thank goodness. Now, he has a war story to tell and battle scars to prove it. (I think the car won, though...it didn't get hurt.)

peek-a

2009-03-16T09:35:00.002-04:00

At the end of dinner, Baby J and I were the only ones left at the table as he seemed willing to still eat a bit more green beans and chicken. I wasn't going to rush him, and he was chomping away happily - so long as he was allowed to have a fork or spoon, par for the course with him. Suddenly he shot me a sly grin and covered his face, pausing for effect.

"Peek-a!"

Accomplishment wreathed his face as he peered from behind his hands. And then again. And again. I could hardly contain my own delight so adorable was his look and so deep his pleasure at instigating this game and saying the word without help.

We've played "peek-a" many times this morning and Baby J even hid in the cabinet, sat on an oatmeal container, and pulled the door shut, opening it to play his new favorite game.

Oh the joy!

honesty

2009-03-06T16:45:00.002-05:00

I feel like I'm pulling a huge, heavy load of treasure through rocky, uncertain terrain. I know we'll get there, and I know it's so incredibly worth it, and so often I can see the valuables glistening in there, but sometimes it's just...hard.

I have to remind myself that overall we've made noticeable progress, frustrating though it is. But I always feel we slide backward through the winter. Three steps forward, two steps backward. It makes a journey feel so long.

dreaming

2009-02-26T08:46:00.003-05:00

I drive Little B to and from school each day.
There is a small, hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant that I pass on that drive.
Both directions.
That's twice a day. Actually, four times since I go back home the same direction after dropping him off or picking him up.

So, I inevitably crave cheese dip with jalapenos - twice a day. (I figure if I pass it again in only a few minutes, the initial craving has not ended yet...it just gets stronger.)
It's even better with a Dr. Pepper.
And good company.

Good thing I only have my kids in the car and don't ever stop!

something new

2009-02-25T08:35:00.002-05:00

Sunday afternoon I asked Little B to tell me what time it was. He walked over to the kitchen door and paused. Then opened the baby gate and stepped into the kitchen.

He kept hesitating, so I came to the doorway and said, "Right there, on the stove or microwave."

"I know," he replied. "I can't see it."

I was surprised. I'm not sure why I was surprised since an eye doctor had thought he'd need glasses over a year ago, but I had him step closer until he could see it. He was roughly 6-8 feet from the little digital numbers when he could read it. I took him yesterday for his eye exam. Poor kid. He had to miss almost then entire day of school . . . haha!

After the exam confirmed he needed glasses, we headed to Lens Crafters. (I have used them several times, and I've always been happy. But let me tell you now just how great they are. I have a discount plan for eye care. But they have a Kid's Plan. It is better than my plan; they offer 50% off kid's frames and lenses until they are 13 years old.) And, of course, we came home with them on his face. He's so cute.

And I have to say, he is ecstatic. His two best buddies in class have glasses already. As he experimented with what he could and could not see yesterday, he decided he has "super human vision" now. If he could carry such an attitude through life, he'll do well.

The down side of this showed itself this morning, however. Upon coming into the living room, he look up and commented that the fan sure was dirty. And he could even see the dust particles. . . !

it's monday again

2009-02-16T10:34:00.002-05:00

I think I'm starting to feel Monday in my bones...and it lasts most of the week with little reprieve. I've been in for a long haul recently. And I promise I'm not complaining. It is what it is. I'm just barely hanging on by a thread, though.

So, a funny story about this morning:
I was attempting to do dishes around the 13 month old walker who loves to pull out pots and pans all over the floor...as well as plastic cups and surplus non perishables from another allowable cupboard. I needed to take out the trash - still do, in fact. And when I turned around, there he was digging into the garbage with a handful of spaghetti that he was LOVING. After cleaning him up and moving him out, I discovered he also had found a Dr. Pepper can and was attempting to drink from it. Yeah, moved that away really fast.

Honestly, it was pretty hysterical. And he was so proud. . . .

the party

2009-02-09T10:38:00.003-05:00

Nope. No pictures. Though I did finally download THREE MONTHS of pictures so that I could take a few of the party. Yeah, I'm grand that way.

So, I survived. It helps that only one couple with their three kids and another mom with two kids showed up. Plus my parents. Little B had two friends and Miss C had two friends. One of Miss C's friends was a boy who played with the big boys. Miss C therefore had one little girl to play with. But, that suited her just fine. We had a huge 4-layer cake of which I cut massive slices for those little bodies. Ha. Cake cutting has always been an issue for me. I don't like being responsible for it.

I was a madwoman cleaning and cake-decorating between Friday night and Saturday morning. Things were as good as they were going to get. My husband mopped, I vacuumed. My husband did dishes and folded clothes, I put away the enormous amount of toys littered across the floor.

And, I will NOT have my son's party at my house. While I am not the messiest person I've met, and while my house was in worse shape than usual before this party (meaning it shouldn't have been quite so traumatic to fix it up), I am just not up for that again. Nope. I will now proceed to wrack my brain for something 8 year old boys would love to do.

~Pay for a cool place that allows up to 15 kids (meaning everyone invited can bring siblings and still not meet the 15 people b/c I just won't have THAT many kids to deal with; I won't!) and offers a party room for 1.5 hours.

~Take Little B and 2 or 3 friends to miniature golf at a fun place, then have to figure out where is okay to feed them cake since such places do not offer party rooms that I'm aware of.

~(Chuck E. Cheese is out thanks to dairy issues, which I am JUST fine with!)

~Take our kids and 2 or 3 of his friends to an Aquarium for a few hours...still leaving us with a cake issue. How can you have a party and no cake???

~. . . . . . ?

Yup. I'm tapped out. And one of our guests is severely debilitated due to a brain tumor, so roller skating won't be an option (it would a great choice otherwise, since Little B loves to skate, they have less expensive party packages, and I can bring in my own cake! We'd just skip the pizza.)

All that said, I have 6 weeks and Little B is ALL ABOUT figuring it out. Me too. I want it done and out of the way. He's bummed his birthday falls on a Saturday, though, since he wanted to have his party "early" - ha! I can't justify it. I just can't. I don't think.

Got kids who need me, errands to run and naps I'd rather take. I'm not even spell checking so I can JUST GET THIS POSTED.

Ta ta!

procrastination

2009-02-06T17:22:00.003-05:00

I am procrastinating badly at the moment.
See, life has been going on full speed ahead, pot holes included. Fun times for another post if I'm up to it. It has left me in denial, drained, blue as a midnight sky, and overindulgent in the chocolate of the house.

But in the midst of that, I have a little girl who is having a party tomorrow for her 4th birthday. The first real party she's had of her own with full blown excitement and sparkle in her eyes. She has asked me for weeks when it would be.

My dirty little secret? I HATE KID'S PARTIES.
Nothing stresses me out quite like figuring out how to plan them, who to invite, and what to do at them.

I know, mom of the year. I loathe them deeply. They are the bane of my existence and I now have three kids with birthdays three months in a row. No reprieve whatsoever. Now, let me give you a word picture of my house:

I am sitting at the kitchen table with my wishy-washy laptop that's a cold weather friend - regularly freezes on me. A mere ten feet away, my sweet Baby J is gleefully basking in the pots and pans and lids strewn around the floor near him; there is also a container with large alphabet letters - perhaps he had soup in mind? My kitchen counters stay piled with the million and one things I need to finish sorting, tossing, filing, mailing, finding homes for.... (I will insert a kudos for me: the dish washer is running and four chocolate cakes from scratch are now cooled on the counter - made with the help of Miss C.)

Through the door straight ahead I see the living room where the DVD is still playing Rolie Polie Olie for the millionth time since it keeps starting itself over. And over. The floor in there was a light case of baby toys and once-folded-clean-laundry that Baby J pulled down, but now that the older kids are messing around, the mess is a bit muckier. (I have refolded clothes so many times I could cry...or maybe that's not really why, but you get the point. They are always on the floor before I can get the job finished.)

Next to that is the dining room turned playroom - the one we've never-no-not-even-once-eaten-in - and Baby J and Miss C have turned it upside down this week while I worried about clean bathrooms and birthday cakes and phone calls from the school and little things such as that. In there, the bins of toys are emptied, the easel has been tipped and therefore moved to an inconvenient nook of the room, the hamster is on the table in dire need of fresh bedding for his cage, and the things that had not yet been reorganized a couple of weeks ago still mightily adorn the top of the "shelves", aka baby changing table turned shelf.

My husband has just called to say he's still working. He was barely able to talk so intent on work was he. As it's been most of the week. I should be thankful for the work. I am. But it's really so much more than that.

My week is not over. I have a house to clean, three kids to feed and a weeping soul. I don't think I'll ask what that crash was in the other room. I really don't want to know. I swore after last year's joint party at Build-A-Bear for the two older ones that I'd never have a birthday party at home again. I am a moron. I cannot believe I planned this. I thought it would be simple enough...only 3 friends (plus at least one parent for each kid, my parents and my brother - not so simple).

I do not want to cook dinner.
I do not know what I am going to cook for dinner. Eggs again? Perhaps.
I do not want a party in my house tomorrow.
I do not want to deal with people, talk to people, be sociable, be nice, be polite.
I do not want to cope with any one's "issues", namely my children's, at the moment.

I want to go to bed.
I want my husband to come home and let me crawl under the covers while he fixes dinner and cleans the house and figures out where the yards and yards of paper chain will be hung.
I want him to remember that Little B especially wanted balloons for his sister as a surprise.
I want him to watch Little B's magic show rehearsal one more time before he performs it at her party - another special thing for his sister.
I want to escape.

And so I have face-booked, read blogs and posted this. And now it's 6pm.
Yeah, they are so having eggs and leftover pancakes.
Except Baby J can't have eggs. He'll have to have another pancake. They have chocolate chips in them.

Sigh.