As you may be able to tell, I rarely write on this blog anymore. It nags at me, calls me, haunts me and mocks me! I do have a few very good reasons! Nonetheless, it plagues me.
One reason is, I am a homeschooling mother of 3 students and 2 preschoolers. This reason is plain to see and very easy to understand. What it boils down to is, I have very little time. Updating a quick status on facebook seems to be more my speed these days.
I realized today, though, that there is a deeper, more prohibitive reason. I am going to be honest. This blog just doesn't apply to me anymore. It does, but it doesn't. Let me explain!
I have a BUCKETLOAD of boys. This cannot be denied. However, I also have a beautiful, pink, sweet smelling, feminine daughter who has brought so much girliness to my life, and herein lies my problem. I don't just identify myself as a boy mamma anymore.
Over the last year, I have inexplicably also become a girl mamma. I put in barretts. I match socks and clothes, I have even bought some really beautiful girly headbands for my little sweetie. This transition happened without any effort, and amazes me as much as it might be amazing you!
I also have found that I have taken more care on my own accessorizing. I have bought matching shirts and necklaces for myself, and have, in general, reconnected with my inner girl!
The desire to blog is still great in me, and as I pondered this while getting dressed this morning, it came to me. Like a voice from the heavens I heard: Start a different blog that more accurately reflects what is going on in my life today! (Okay, so I'm a slow learner. This seems so obvious, I admit.) So, here is your notification of change of venue!
Starting today, you will find my thoughts, dreams, ideas and adventures recorded at www.bucketloadsofblessings.blogspot.com. I look forward to more regularly downloading my experiences in this crazy, busy, fun life I am living! So come by the new site every now and then and catch up. Leave your thoughts if you wish, and join in the discussions! You are always welcome!
See you soon at our new home!
Friday, April 23, 2010
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Simple is a Good Thing
This week we began a new homeschooling adventure. We left the homeschool coop we were involved with, and went out on our own. Was this because we didn't like it? Or we were unhappy with the curriculum? No. Quite the contrary! We loved it, we were happy with the curriculum, we loved the people. What we were missing, though, was simplicity.
Every Monday we would hit the ground running. However, the running for Monday really began on Saturday, overshadowed my Sabbath, and wore me out requiring a two day recovery!!! I found myself crabby, stressed out and struggling to be the happy homeschooler I wanted to be!
Much of this has to do with physical problems I am having. Much of it has to do with having a toddler, a baby, and 3 older kids that require my attention. But most of it has to do with a longing for a simpler way of life. I long for peace and calm. If the truth be told, this longing for calm could become an idol in my life if I let it. With 5 kids and a small house, calm is not easily found!!
So this Monday, we stayed home. I noticed the difference on Saturday night. No rush to begin making breakfast to put in the freezer for Monday. Then on Sunday when I was working in our nursery, I felt peace knowing that the next day, I would be at home with my kids, rather than spending 8 hours in the same nursery again. (I loved that by the way. It just wore me out.)
Sunday night, my husband and I settled down together and relaxed. I planned school, we watched TV, we talked. No hustle to lay out clothes for the next morning, no packing lunches, just calm. Calm. I know I sighed contentedly a lot that night!
Here I sit, and it is Saturday, the end of our first week alone. Looking back, I see we made absolutely the right decision. We have played games together, I have baked goodies for the family, and for the most part, I have been a happy mommy this week. Even though we covered a lot of topics in school this week, part of me feels like we went on vacation! We had an extra day at our disposal, and we used it well! This extra day, plus a schedule we are following created an ordered, unhurried life that I loved and am now addicted to!!!
My boys loved everything we did this week. They had a ball at home, attended all their evening activities, and had a family night last night that was long overdue. Lots of blankets, movies, pillows and fun were had by all!!!! I'm happy, and full of peace knowing we made the right choice. We will sure miss our classes, classmates and teachers, but we have traded in a good thing for another really good thing. Simplicity, family and peace. (Contented sigh!!!)
Every Monday we would hit the ground running. However, the running for Monday really began on Saturday, overshadowed my Sabbath, and wore me out requiring a two day recovery!!! I found myself crabby, stressed out and struggling to be the happy homeschooler I wanted to be!
Much of this has to do with physical problems I am having. Much of it has to do with having a toddler, a baby, and 3 older kids that require my attention. But most of it has to do with a longing for a simpler way of life. I long for peace and calm. If the truth be told, this longing for calm could become an idol in my life if I let it. With 5 kids and a small house, calm is not easily found!!
So this Monday, we stayed home. I noticed the difference on Saturday night. No rush to begin making breakfast to put in the freezer for Monday. Then on Sunday when I was working in our nursery, I felt peace knowing that the next day, I would be at home with my kids, rather than spending 8 hours in the same nursery again. (I loved that by the way. It just wore me out.)
Sunday night, my husband and I settled down together and relaxed. I planned school, we watched TV, we talked. No hustle to lay out clothes for the next morning, no packing lunches, just calm. Calm. I know I sighed contentedly a lot that night!
Here I sit, and it is Saturday, the end of our first week alone. Looking back, I see we made absolutely the right decision. We have played games together, I have baked goodies for the family, and for the most part, I have been a happy mommy this week. Even though we covered a lot of topics in school this week, part of me feels like we went on vacation! We had an extra day at our disposal, and we used it well! This extra day, plus a schedule we are following created an ordered, unhurried life that I loved and am now addicted to!!!
My boys loved everything we did this week. They had a ball at home, attended all their evening activities, and had a family night last night that was long overdue. Lots of blankets, movies, pillows and fun were had by all!!!! I'm happy, and full of peace knowing we made the right choice. We will sure miss our classes, classmates and teachers, but we have traded in a good thing for another really good thing. Simplicity, family and peace. (Contented sigh!!!)
Friday, September 25, 2009
So what am I learning in homeschool these days??
It is one of the best parts of my homeschooling experience that I get to learn right along with my kids. I am the first to admit that I was a poor student in my school years. I really didn't care much about studying, or about what I was learning about. Now, as an adult, I am fascinated by the things we are learning, and so excited that I get to learn these things again, or for the first time, as is sometimes the case!
My boys have been really enjoying our unit on the Medieval times. There is lots of war, bloodshed and armor, battles and fallen cities, so what more could a boy want? I am praying for them every day that the history we are learning will mold them into wise men who can learn where we came from, and make choices for where they are going accordingly!
I personally have known very little about the middle ages, so as we have been studying, I have been learning a lot about some really amazing men. One of these men was Pope Gregory I, (pictured above). He was a man who in his lifetime went from humble beginnings to becoming the head of the Christian world during the late 500's. Yet his greatest desire was to have less wealth, live a simple life, and travel from Rome to Britain to help the Angles know the Lord Jesus. God's plans for him went in different directions, however, and he had to learn to submit joyfully to the will of his Lord, rather than complaining and missing out on what God had for him.
Something he said really stuck in my mind yesterday, and I pray, in the minds of my boys as well. He said, "Every preacher's deeds should speak louder than his words. He should, by his good life, make footsteps for men to follow." Now, I know we are not preachers, but I think he meant all Christian people who claim to be followers of Christ as well.
This statement was ordained by God for me to hear yesterday! I have been memorizing 1Cor. 13, and the first verse says "If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging symbol." This verse has really stuck out to me. I occasionally sing in front of my church. I use "the tongues of angels" by singing praises to the Lord in front of the whole congregation. But I wonder, would my kids say I am characterized by love? Would they say that my speech to them is loving? Am I patient? Am I kind? If I am not loving to my kids, then will my getting up in front of the church to sing, using the "tongues of angels", just sound like a clanging symbol or a noisy gong to them? What about to my husband?
But back to Pope Gregory, I wonder, what sort of steps am I leaving for my kids to follow in? Lord willing, they may be parents one day, too. What sort of path am I carving out for them to walk in as fathers? What sort of path am I leaving as the route for my daughter to follow when she becomes a mother some day? Are my words loving? Do I build them up? Will they do the same for their kids?
These are sobering thoughts. I am so thankful that God promises never to leave me or forsake me. On my own, I just can't do this parenting thing very well. But God daily gives me the strength to put down my anger if I choose to. To lay aside my grumpiness if I will. To choose to love my husband and children with the love God shows me.
I love homeschooling! It is challenging and tiring, but man, I am learning a lot!! I just pray my kids are enjoying it as much as I am!!!
My boys have been really enjoying our unit on the Medieval times. There is lots of war, bloodshed and armor, battles and fallen cities, so what more could a boy want? I am praying for them every day that the history we are learning will mold them into wise men who can learn where we came from, and make choices for where they are going accordingly!
I personally have known very little about the middle ages, so as we have been studying, I have been learning a lot about some really amazing men. One of these men was Pope Gregory I, (pictured above). He was a man who in his lifetime went from humble beginnings to becoming the head of the Christian world during the late 500's. Yet his greatest desire was to have less wealth, live a simple life, and travel from Rome to Britain to help the Angles know the Lord Jesus. God's plans for him went in different directions, however, and he had to learn to submit joyfully to the will of his Lord, rather than complaining and missing out on what God had for him.
Something he said really stuck in my mind yesterday, and I pray, in the minds of my boys as well. He said, "Every preacher's deeds should speak louder than his words. He should, by his good life, make footsteps for men to follow." Now, I know we are not preachers, but I think he meant all Christian people who claim to be followers of Christ as well.
This statement was ordained by God for me to hear yesterday! I have been memorizing 1Cor. 13, and the first verse says "If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging symbol." This verse has really stuck out to me. I occasionally sing in front of my church. I use "the tongues of angels" by singing praises to the Lord in front of the whole congregation. But I wonder, would my kids say I am characterized by love? Would they say that my speech to them is loving? Am I patient? Am I kind? If I am not loving to my kids, then will my getting up in front of the church to sing, using the "tongues of angels", just sound like a clanging symbol or a noisy gong to them? What about to my husband?
But back to Pope Gregory, I wonder, what sort of steps am I leaving for my kids to follow in? Lord willing, they may be parents one day, too. What sort of path am I carving out for them to walk in as fathers? What sort of path am I leaving as the route for my daughter to follow when she becomes a mother some day? Are my words loving? Do I build them up? Will they do the same for their kids?
These are sobering thoughts. I am so thankful that God promises never to leave me or forsake me. On my own, I just can't do this parenting thing very well. But God daily gives me the strength to put down my anger if I choose to. To lay aside my grumpiness if I will. To choose to love my husband and children with the love God shows me.
I love homeschooling! It is challenging and tiring, but man, I am learning a lot!! I just pray my kids are enjoying it as much as I am!!!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
One of those days
Today has been a less than banner day at the homestead. Tempers have been lost, sore throats, toothaches, and grumpy attitudes. And that was just me!!!
But, as they say, the mother is the thermostat of the family, setting her family's hearts to a warm glow, or an icy frigidity! Today, I was far too frosty for our own good. I reaped what I sewed today, and I have a lot to make up for in the grumpy mommy department.
However, in the midst of this, God provided some memorable moments that we won't soon forget. One occurred in the testing fire of potty training. My little 2 year old son is doing a grand job at potty training. Really, really a great job. Today, we had the inevitable accident, just much funnier than any I have ever seen with my other kids.
He was sitting on the potty today, and announced that he was done. So I said, "Did you go potty?" His reply was, "Yes, on my legs." I was somewhat alarmed, so I replied "You went potty on your legs on the toilet?" Sweet, innocent blue eyes gazed up at me as he said, "No, on the floor." Of course this sounded like "floe-wa" in toddler-speak. Now I was alarmed, so I replied, "Where did you potty on the floor?" Thus ensued an Abbott and Costello-esque conversation that I will never forget.
DS--"Um, on my legs."
Me--"Yes, but where did you potty on your legs?"
DS--"On the floe-wa." Big blue eyes, innocent and sweet.
Me--"Okay, but where on the floor?" And I am not kidding, he replied...
DS--"On my legs."
So, I try a different path. "Where in the house did you pee on your legs?"
DS--"On the floe-wa."
Needless to say, I gave up at this point, and stepped out of the bathroom for some air. At which time I landed in damp, urinated-on carpet. Oh, well. At least I found it!
Now that school is over and dinner is almost ready, and I have taken my aching head to the couch for a moment, I can laugh about this. One of God's greatest mercies to a mom of young children is the laughter in the midst of the stress! My toddler is a challenge on the best of days, in his toddlerhood, but he also brings me more laughter than anyone I know!
So, my "who's on first, what's on second" conversations are behind me, our house is filled with the yummy smell of mexican food in the oven, and tomorrow my husband will be home the whole day. All is well! Hopefully I can be lead my family into warm, comfy coziness tonight, rather than my Antarctic grumpiness. I'm praying to be a more effective thermostat tomorrow!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
School Daze, Boyz and Diaperz
My summer disappeared in the blink of an eye. We saw all cousins on both sides of the family except one, we swam, we played in the yard, all the typical summer activities. Of course, here I am using the word "we" very liberally, because I was not terribly involved in much of these activities. The cousin visiting, yes! Otherwise, I was a feeding machine all summer.
I spent the summer getting to know my little girl through 6-8 feedings a day, 6-8 diaper changes a day, and several bedtimes a day. I learned some things, too. So, this self-described "mom'o'boys" will now rattle off the many things I have discovered about being a "mom'o'girl".
First, I have learned that there is never, I repeat, never an outfit that is too casual for a big fluffy hair bow or headband. It seems that the headband is a moral imperative if we are going to be anywhere that a non-family member might see her!
Second, I have learned that girls are, by nature, softer than boys. Her skin is softer, her hair is softer, and her daddy's heart is softer when he is holding her!
Also, I have become much more comfortable with matching up clothes that didn't come in an outfit. I was afraid that I had lost my ability to dress a girl baby years ago, and that I would be like a fish out of water. What I discovered is that I actually still AM a girl, and that dressing my baby girl is as inate as baking cookies or using a curling iron! I love to dress my little peanut, but she is much more fun than a baby doll ever was because she LOVES to have her clothes changed. She giggles and smiles as soon as I start pulling her arm out of her sleeve.
Lastly, I have learned that there is a difference in the way you feel about your daughter. As my husband says a friend told him once, with your sons you can imagine them a short distance into the future, like when they are 11 or 12, but with your daughter, you immediately see yourself dancing with her at her wedding. Now, while I don't imagine I'll dance much with her at her wedding, I do imagine getting her an American Girl doll, shopping for clothes, talking to her about boys, and eventually helping her pick out her wedding dress. This is enough to place a huge lump firmly in my throat. (I'll swallow that down, now!)
So what did I learn about my sons this summer? Well, they are as soft hearted toward their sister as their daddy is. They love to kiss her and hold her and generally love on her at every opportunity. They have their daddy's tender heart.
I am particularly learning a lot about my eldest son, who will be 11 in a few months. But this is another post for another day! Suffice it to say, he is a great kid. Like all others, he brings his own challenges, and these are exponentially manifested during our school days, which began 3 weeks ago. My learning days with him are just beginning, and I am praying that I will be the mom/teacher he needs me to be.
So, off I go to teach my 3 oldest boys! Yet another school day is underway. The Lord is good! Hopefully I will reflect some of that as I parent and teach.
I spent the summer getting to know my little girl through 6-8 feedings a day, 6-8 diaper changes a day, and several bedtimes a day. I learned some things, too. So, this self-described "mom'o'boys" will now rattle off the many things I have discovered about being a "mom'o'girl".
First, I have learned that there is never, I repeat, never an outfit that is too casual for a big fluffy hair bow or headband. It seems that the headband is a moral imperative if we are going to be anywhere that a non-family member might see her!
Second, I have learned that girls are, by nature, softer than boys. Her skin is softer, her hair is softer, and her daddy's heart is softer when he is holding her!
Also, I have become much more comfortable with matching up clothes that didn't come in an outfit. I was afraid that I had lost my ability to dress a girl baby years ago, and that I would be like a fish out of water. What I discovered is that I actually still AM a girl, and that dressing my baby girl is as inate as baking cookies or using a curling iron! I love to dress my little peanut, but she is much more fun than a baby doll ever was because she LOVES to have her clothes changed. She giggles and smiles as soon as I start pulling her arm out of her sleeve.
Lastly, I have learned that there is a difference in the way you feel about your daughter. As my husband says a friend told him once, with your sons you can imagine them a short distance into the future, like when they are 11 or 12, but with your daughter, you immediately see yourself dancing with her at her wedding. Now, while I don't imagine I'll dance much with her at her wedding, I do imagine getting her an American Girl doll, shopping for clothes, talking to her about boys, and eventually helping her pick out her wedding dress. This is enough to place a huge lump firmly in my throat. (I'll swallow that down, now!)
So what did I learn about my sons this summer? Well, they are as soft hearted toward their sister as their daddy is. They love to kiss her and hold her and generally love on her at every opportunity. They have their daddy's tender heart.
I am particularly learning a lot about my eldest son, who will be 11 in a few months. But this is another post for another day! Suffice it to say, he is a great kid. Like all others, he brings his own challenges, and these are exponentially manifested during our school days, which began 3 weeks ago. My learning days with him are just beginning, and I am praying that I will be the mom/teacher he needs me to be.
So, off I go to teach my 3 oldest boys! Yet another school day is underway. The Lord is good! Hopefully I will reflect some of that as I parent and teach.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Where Did the Time Go???
It went into gestation, delivery, nursing, sleepless nights and lots of floor pacing, that's where!!
It is official, I am the mother of a daughter. A six week old daughter, to be exact! It is amazing how your life can zip by you when you have 5 kids. So far this is the greatest change that I have noticed. Time is faster with 5 kids. And harder to hold on to.
So to back up a bit, our little daughter, Carolyn Rose, was born on April 16. She was 10 pounds and 4 ounces, and about 22 inches long. She was a big girl! Not our biggest though, so she doesn't have to carry that reputation around. That one firmly belongs to our 10 pound, 11 ounce third son. Second in line is son number four, at 10 pounds, 9 ounces.
Having a girl is such a precious thing. She is so pink and sweet, and oh, the bloomers!!! (I know, what is it with me and the bloomers?) She has tiny precious little feet, and tiny precious little ears, and she is every inch a lady.
My boys just love her to death. They are so sweet with her, and they have already told me more than once that she is "softening them up" just as I predicted she would! They aren't too soft, though. They still smell like sweat and feet most of the time, and they still wrestle like bear cubs in the living room. All is well in our mostly boy household.
This brings me to the question, do I still have a bucketload of boys? Yes, I do!!! Enough so that people are still shocked when they see a girl in tow. The next question is always, "Well, you finally got a girl. So I guess you are done now?"
I am trying to take that question with a sense of humor. But it leads me to wonder, did they think I only had 4 boys because I was still trying for a daughter? Do people really do that? I guess some do. We've heard some people put this mind set this way: A girl for me, a boy for you, and praise the Lord! Now we're through!!
We haven't gotten to the point where we feel we are "through". I think we both believe that God will let us know when we are done. For now, I am focusing on where I am, not where I may be in the future.
And where I am is knee deep in boys, and ankle deep in girl! And I love it. It is busy, it is sometimes crazy, I am tired but happy every night, and it is great. This life I live is sometimes really hard, but ALWAYS a blessing, even when I feel like pulling out my hair! Thankfully that doesn't happen very often, and I have a lot of hair! =)
More to come soon, whenever I get another newborn-free moment!!
It is official, I am the mother of a daughter. A six week old daughter, to be exact! It is amazing how your life can zip by you when you have 5 kids. So far this is the greatest change that I have noticed. Time is faster with 5 kids. And harder to hold on to.
So to back up a bit, our little daughter, Carolyn Rose, was born on April 16. She was 10 pounds and 4 ounces, and about 22 inches long. She was a big girl! Not our biggest though, so she doesn't have to carry that reputation around. That one firmly belongs to our 10 pound, 11 ounce third son. Second in line is son number four, at 10 pounds, 9 ounces.
Having a girl is such a precious thing. She is so pink and sweet, and oh, the bloomers!!! (I know, what is it with me and the bloomers?) She has tiny precious little feet, and tiny precious little ears, and she is every inch a lady.
My boys just love her to death. They are so sweet with her, and they have already told me more than once that she is "softening them up" just as I predicted she would! They aren't too soft, though. They still smell like sweat and feet most of the time, and they still wrestle like bear cubs in the living room. All is well in our mostly boy household.
This brings me to the question, do I still have a bucketload of boys? Yes, I do!!! Enough so that people are still shocked when they see a girl in tow. The next question is always, "Well, you finally got a girl. So I guess you are done now?"
I am trying to take that question with a sense of humor. But it leads me to wonder, did they think I only had 4 boys because I was still trying for a daughter? Do people really do that? I guess some do. We've heard some people put this mind set this way: A girl for me, a boy for you, and praise the Lord! Now we're through!!
We haven't gotten to the point where we feel we are "through". I think we both believe that God will let us know when we are done. For now, I am focusing on where I am, not where I may be in the future.
And where I am is knee deep in boys, and ankle deep in girl! And I love it. It is busy, it is sometimes crazy, I am tired but happy every night, and it is great. This life I live is sometimes really hard, but ALWAYS a blessing, even when I feel like pulling out my hair! Thankfully that doesn't happen very often, and I have a lot of hair! =)
More to come soon, whenever I get another newborn-free moment!!
Friday, February 27, 2009
7 Weeks To Go, and I Am Losing My Everlovin' Mind
Nesting. It is a beautiful thing, no? It can cause us to accomplish tasks that we have been putting off for months, to have strokes of genius to finally solve that one nagging organizational problem, or to work tirelessly day and night to create a beautiful, clean home.
Unfortunately, it can also make you a stark, raving lunatic, who terrorizes all around her. This is where I and my family are living right now. I look around and I am obsessed with finally accomplishing all the projects, cleaning and organization that I have been too busy and tired to accomplish. I wake up thinking about what a mess my home is, and how I am going to go crazy if I don't get it all done NOW!!!
My poor children have been helping me in a kind of fearful, let's-do-it-before-mommy-goes- postal-on-us kind of way. I have been trying to thank them as often as I can, just to balance out my insanity. Hopefully it is working, because I don't see this instinct backing off any time soon.
My faithful friend and sister, Beth-Ann finally gave me the official diagnosis today. I am nesting. I sort of knew that, but to hear someone else say it made it official. I am 7 weeks away from delivering this little bundle of joy, and all I can do is think about curtains in the office, and removing the sliding doors from the closet to be replaced with curtains on a tension rod. If those closet doors fall off the track one more time, I may have to completely lose it!! (They are currently one on, one off. Gaaaaahhhhhhh!!)
Obviously I am a hormonal wreck. But I have been here before. 4 times before, to be exact. And we have all survived it before. We will again, I feel sure.
So, in addition to making my family insane, I am spending mental time trying to figure out where to put this child. We have 4 boys in one bedroom, and an office/school room to choose from. Right now I am waiting for someone to come pick up our two school desks to make room for a pack and play in the school room. That will probably have to serve as her room for a while, at least until we sell our home and move!
I am also trying to prepare myself for the possibility that they made a mistake, and this is really NOT a girl! We are prepared with stuff either way, so it will be fine. I just need to put my heart in the right place. I am making sure that my heart is ready for either eventuality. On the one hand, I end up with a daughter, and this is a tremendous blessing. On the other hand, I end up a mother of 5 boys. This is a stunning prospect. Dizzying, in fact.
So, daily I tell myself, this could be a boy. I don't want to be crying in disappointment over my newborn, beautiful baby! I also don't want to get my heart set on being that mom of 5 boys, and take my eyes off of what a blessing a little lady would be. It is a fine, delicate tightrope I am walking.
What I know for sure is that all babies are a blessing! And I will take one look at this baby and fall head over heels in love just like I did in the past with my four other blessings. As for the beautiful, pink clothing that we have piling up for our baby, well, I'll just have to have my husband return it all if this is a boy! Those ruffly, sweet little pink things would sure be hard to say good-bye to!! The people at the store don't need me there, crying my eyes out as I hand over all the cute bloomers! We may just have to make our son wear bloomers if this is a boy. I have come to believe, we haven't lived until we have had a kid in bloomers.
(I won't really do that by the way. Please don't send CPS after me!!!)
Unfortunately, it can also make you a stark, raving lunatic, who terrorizes all around her. This is where I and my family are living right now. I look around and I am obsessed with finally accomplishing all the projects, cleaning and organization that I have been too busy and tired to accomplish. I wake up thinking about what a mess my home is, and how I am going to go crazy if I don't get it all done NOW!!!
My poor children have been helping me in a kind of fearful, let's-do-it-before-mommy-goes- postal-on-us kind of way. I have been trying to thank them as often as I can, just to balance out my insanity. Hopefully it is working, because I don't see this instinct backing off any time soon.
My faithful friend and sister, Beth-Ann finally gave me the official diagnosis today. I am nesting. I sort of knew that, but to hear someone else say it made it official. I am 7 weeks away from delivering this little bundle of joy, and all I can do is think about curtains in the office, and removing the sliding doors from the closet to be replaced with curtains on a tension rod. If those closet doors fall off the track one more time, I may have to completely lose it!! (They are currently one on, one off. Gaaaaahhhhhhh!!)
Obviously I am a hormonal wreck. But I have been here before. 4 times before, to be exact. And we have all survived it before. We will again, I feel sure.
So, in addition to making my family insane, I am spending mental time trying to figure out where to put this child. We have 4 boys in one bedroom, and an office/school room to choose from. Right now I am waiting for someone to come pick up our two school desks to make room for a pack and play in the school room. That will probably have to serve as her room for a while, at least until we sell our home and move!
I am also trying to prepare myself for the possibility that they made a mistake, and this is really NOT a girl! We are prepared with stuff either way, so it will be fine. I just need to put my heart in the right place. I am making sure that my heart is ready for either eventuality. On the one hand, I end up with a daughter, and this is a tremendous blessing. On the other hand, I end up a mother of 5 boys. This is a stunning prospect. Dizzying, in fact.
So, daily I tell myself, this could be a boy. I don't want to be crying in disappointment over my newborn, beautiful baby! I also don't want to get my heart set on being that mom of 5 boys, and take my eyes off of what a blessing a little lady would be. It is a fine, delicate tightrope I am walking.
What I know for sure is that all babies are a blessing! And I will take one look at this baby and fall head over heels in love just like I did in the past with my four other blessings. As for the beautiful, pink clothing that we have piling up for our baby, well, I'll just have to have my husband return it all if this is a boy! Those ruffly, sweet little pink things would sure be hard to say good-bye to!! The people at the store don't need me there, crying my eyes out as I hand over all the cute bloomers! We may just have to make our son wear bloomers if this is a boy. I have come to believe, we haven't lived until we have had a kid in bloomers.
(I won't really do that by the way. Please don't send CPS after me!!!)
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
The Crazy Things I Am Thinking
As we are counting down the days until our daughter's arrival, I am becoming more and more obsessed about one thing: I need to become a girl again. If I am going to raise a young woman, yikes, I need to remember how to be one!
What does this mean to me? Well, for one thing, dark roots are no longer acceptable. I wake up every day looking at my blondish, brownish, whitish hair and think, I have to fix this before she is born so that she won't ever see me with unkempt hair.
Realistically, is this going to be the last time my roots will get out of control? Highly unlikely! Especially as we approach child number 5. It isn't going to be any easier to slip away for a hair cut!
Secondly, this means that I am going to need to lose all my weight and achieve the body I have always dreamed of having. Otherwise I am going to doom this little girl to a life of body image struggles and obesity!! Crazy, yes I know. I would love to achieve my goal weight, but I recognize that I could give her just as much of a body image problem if I obsess about being skinny!
Lastly, I can never again be loud and raucous, whooping it up with the boys. I need to create the gentle, quiet exterior I have always wanted. I must be Victorian in my dress, sip tea quietly with my finger in the air, and possibly adopt a British accent to make myself seem more lady-like and proper.
Okay, folks, this is crazy. I recognize this. God designed me to be who I am. I can work to better myself, sure, but this little girl does not need me to fully fix myself in the next 12 weeks. She was given to me by God to raise as the mom I am, and as the mom I will become over the years. I just need to chill out.
Hopefully, all my years as a mom of boys will not make me ill equipped to be a mom of a girl. I think she is going to have a LOT to teach all of us!
What does this mean to me? Well, for one thing, dark roots are no longer acceptable. I wake up every day looking at my blondish, brownish, whitish hair and think, I have to fix this before she is born so that she won't ever see me with unkempt hair.
Realistically, is this going to be the last time my roots will get out of control? Highly unlikely! Especially as we approach child number 5. It isn't going to be any easier to slip away for a hair cut!
Secondly, this means that I am going to need to lose all my weight and achieve the body I have always dreamed of having. Otherwise I am going to doom this little girl to a life of body image struggles and obesity!! Crazy, yes I know. I would love to achieve my goal weight, but I recognize that I could give her just as much of a body image problem if I obsess about being skinny!
Lastly, I can never again be loud and raucous, whooping it up with the boys. I need to create the gentle, quiet exterior I have always wanted. I must be Victorian in my dress, sip tea quietly with my finger in the air, and possibly adopt a British accent to make myself seem more lady-like and proper.
Okay, folks, this is crazy. I recognize this. God designed me to be who I am. I can work to better myself, sure, but this little girl does not need me to fully fix myself in the next 12 weeks. She was given to me by God to raise as the mom I am, and as the mom I will become over the years. I just need to chill out.
Hopefully, all my years as a mom of boys will not make me ill equipped to be a mom of a girl. I think she is going to have a LOT to teach all of us!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Christmas Has Come and Gone
I just realized it has been over a month since I posted anything. Admittedly, it is the busiest month of the year, so I will cut myself some slack.
I spent the last month growing larger. My stomach is quite, um, out there now, but that is okay. I know that at 24 weeks, I am just at the beginning of the hugeness. I have a plan to spend the last trimester sugar free, so I pray this time my baby can be under 10 1/2 pounds. Until then, I will enjoy my chocolates of the world that my beloved husband blessed me with this Christmas. Man, the Swiss, Italians, Canadians, Belgians and Spanish sure can make some yummy chocolate.
Yet, today, I just craved a good old fashioned American Snickers bar. We love what we know the best, don't we?
So, here we are, 6 weeks into our knowledge of our baby's girlhood, and it is sinking in. We were blessed earlier this month with a TON of clothing from a friend, and it was really fun to go through and ooooo and aaaaaahhhhh over.
Still, there is a part of me that says, "they could be wrong." There is also a part of many other people that needs to remind me of that frequently. So, this week, I am sorting out our baby clothing and boxing it up to mail to my sister-in-law for her new baby boy. And to hand over to my lovely friend who is having her first boy after 4 girls. My plan, however, is to hold on to these things until we either have another ultrasound, or we give birth to a daughter. Upon confirmation of the female gender, I will gladly relinquish control of the blue clothing and bring in the boxes of pink sweetness.
Part of the reason I have not been blogging, truthfully, is that I am STILL so nauseous so much of the time. As we speak, I am feeling very green around the gills. Gotta go lay down now. More later when my guts aren't churning. Ugh.
I spent the last month growing larger. My stomach is quite, um, out there now, but that is okay. I know that at 24 weeks, I am just at the beginning of the hugeness. I have a plan to spend the last trimester sugar free, so I pray this time my baby can be under 10 1/2 pounds. Until then, I will enjoy my chocolates of the world that my beloved husband blessed me with this Christmas. Man, the Swiss, Italians, Canadians, Belgians and Spanish sure can make some yummy chocolate.
Yet, today, I just craved a good old fashioned American Snickers bar. We love what we know the best, don't we?
So, here we are, 6 weeks into our knowledge of our baby's girlhood, and it is sinking in. We were blessed earlier this month with a TON of clothing from a friend, and it was really fun to go through and ooooo and aaaaaahhhhh over.
Still, there is a part of me that says, "they could be wrong." There is also a part of many other people that needs to remind me of that frequently. So, this week, I am sorting out our baby clothing and boxing it up to mail to my sister-in-law for her new baby boy. And to hand over to my lovely friend who is having her first boy after 4 girls. My plan, however, is to hold on to these things until we either have another ultrasound, or we give birth to a daughter. Upon confirmation of the female gender, I will gladly relinquish control of the blue clothing and bring in the boxes of pink sweetness.
Part of the reason I have not been blogging, truthfully, is that I am STILL so nauseous so much of the time. As we speak, I am feeling very green around the gills. Gotta go lay down now. More later when my guts aren't churning. Ugh.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Shifting Paradigms
I am still in shock, two days later. I am having a daughter. We are calling it "she" now. Wow.
Just a quick little check in. I went to Costco this week, and Jeff held up a size 4T pink, soft, Minnie Mouse covered jacket with flowers and leaves on it. It was girly. It was sweet. And I burst into tears in the middle of Costco. Thanks a lot, honey!!!
So, here is my latest realization. We, in this house, will have baby dolls. With pink clothes. Pink blankets. Barbies. Princess stuff. This is enough to make me sit down heavily and stare off into space for over an hour at a time.
Well, right now I am off to make rolls for dinner, so I can't space out quite yet. We have already been telling the boys things like "Well, you'd better get used to it," when they say "Ewwwww" to all the above mentioned girly paraphernalia.
We all have to . Mostly I am trying to get used to their being another girl in the house for Jeff to fall in love with. Honestly, I have struggled with this a bit. I guess I have enjoyed being his only princess.
I suppose now I get promoted to queen, huh? Hey, I can handle that!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Everything Changes
I know a few things for certain. I mean REALLY for certain, like, you could stake your life on them. I know my husband loves me and only me. I know that Jesus truly lived and breathed, died, rose from the dead, and has saved me from my sin. And I know that God intended me to be a mommy of boys.
For as long as I can remember, I have cared for boys. In college, God prepared me for my life by allowing me to be a nanny to twin boys. Those boys felt like my own kids sometimes. I just love the laid back, take life as it comes nature of boys. I love the rough and tumble. I love the noise and the boisterousness. They are a unique breed, and I am so honored to be trusted with these future men.
So, why is it that today, at the doctors office, looking at an ultrasound, there were no boy parts? There was nothing where the boy parts are supposed to be! And when the tech (and another tech who came in for a backup opinion) looked closely, she saw girl parts? Girl parts. On a child inside MY body.
Girl parts.
I'm numb. I'm shocked. I'm stunned. And yet, I'm not. This is the only baby that has actually caused me to vomit. I have never vomited before, and especially not AFTER 16 weeks pregnant. I have been more tired, more emotional, more sick than ever before. Is this due to an overload of estrogen? Could be. Still, I am shocked.
It doesn't help that the techs both said they were about 75% sure that they were right, since the baby was using its (her?) modesty and keeping the private parts private. Still, they took a photo, and there was no scrotum, no penis, no nothing. Just very girly looking parts. Neither Jeff nor I feels 100% that we are having a girl, yet we clearly saw a distinct lack of protruding parts.
Maybe it is just shock that keeps us from fully embracing this news. I feel like when it finally hits me, I am going to cry. I just saw a picture of a baby girl wearing a beautiful dress and a head band, and I almost lost it. I almost let myself accept this.
Still, what does this do to the bucket I live in? Well, it is still a bucketload of boys. This has not changed. A daughter will not change the fact that God intended me to be a mother of many boys.
It just appears that He also intended me to be a mother to a daughter.
Oh, here come the tears. I am going to need some time to really take this in. This is quite a loop that motherhood is throwing me for. I am not sad, just shocked. Scared. Wanting to be excited, yet not sure that I should be just yet.
Well, if this is true, and if all goes well, we should be holding Carolyn Rose in our arms in about 5 months or so. There, I said it.
Until then, I'll be breathing, breathing, breathing. And learning how to play dolls again. And thinking pink and lacey.
Oh my goodness. This is huge. I am going to go and ponder for a while. Something this enormous is going to need time to sink in. I'll check back in soon.
For as long as I can remember, I have cared for boys. In college, God prepared me for my life by allowing me to be a nanny to twin boys. Those boys felt like my own kids sometimes. I just love the laid back, take life as it comes nature of boys. I love the rough and tumble. I love the noise and the boisterousness. They are a unique breed, and I am so honored to be trusted with these future men.
So, why is it that today, at the doctors office, looking at an ultrasound, there were no boy parts? There was nothing where the boy parts are supposed to be! And when the tech (and another tech who came in for a backup opinion) looked closely, she saw girl parts? Girl parts. On a child inside MY body.
Girl parts.
I'm numb. I'm shocked. I'm stunned. And yet, I'm not. This is the only baby that has actually caused me to vomit. I have never vomited before, and especially not AFTER 16 weeks pregnant. I have been more tired, more emotional, more sick than ever before. Is this due to an overload of estrogen? Could be. Still, I am shocked.
It doesn't help that the techs both said they were about 75% sure that they were right, since the baby was using its (her?) modesty and keeping the private parts private. Still, they took a photo, and there was no scrotum, no penis, no nothing. Just very girly looking parts. Neither Jeff nor I feels 100% that we are having a girl, yet we clearly saw a distinct lack of protruding parts.
Maybe it is just shock that keeps us from fully embracing this news. I feel like when it finally hits me, I am going to cry. I just saw a picture of a baby girl wearing a beautiful dress and a head band, and I almost lost it. I almost let myself accept this.
Still, what does this do to the bucket I live in? Well, it is still a bucketload of boys. This has not changed. A daughter will not change the fact that God intended me to be a mother of many boys.
It just appears that He also intended me to be a mother to a daughter.
Oh, here come the tears. I am going to need some time to really take this in. This is quite a loop that motherhood is throwing me for. I am not sad, just shocked. Scared. Wanting to be excited, yet not sure that I should be just yet.
Well, if this is true, and if all goes well, we should be holding Carolyn Rose in our arms in about 5 months or so. There, I said it.
Until then, I'll be breathing, breathing, breathing. And learning how to play dolls again. And thinking pink and lacey.
Oh my goodness. This is huge. I am going to go and ponder for a while. Something this enormous is going to need time to sink in. I'll check back in soon.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
The Face of Desperation
This is the face that plagued my morning. My husband went off to a men's breakfast this morning at church, totally at my bidding. I really wanted him to enjoy some man time, and not with men of the pint-sized variety. This left me to do Jeff's daily job. Make breakfast.
Being that today is Saturday, it is pancake morning. So, not wanting to throw off any one's rhythm, I began making pancakes. I must start off by saying, I can cook many things very well, but pancakes are not one of them. Jeff makes the most killer pancakes ever. Oh, well, if they want to eat, they'll have to eat my meager attempts.
Our precious little toddler/terror Tobe was in the kitchen with me, and he woke up with a massive hunger. This is nothing new. So, I assured him I would be making his pancakes and getting him some food soon.
Our oldest, Jeffery, had expressed to me that Daddy always lets them have a handful of whatever chocolate he happens to be putting in the pancakes that morning. Today, it was mini M&M's and blueberries, so I chose not to break with tradition. I gave each boy a few of the little candies to enjoy while I flipped breakfast. I should have known this was a terrible idea.
Since two summers ago in Branson, MO, we have known of Tobe's problem with sweets. He can't have a little. When he has a little, he wants MORE MORE MORE. And he is quite vocal about it.
This morning I made pancakes to the dulcet tones of my boy screaming "MO TAWKAT!!"over and over again. Then it changed to "MO PANKAY!!!" as he saw the pancakes stacking up on the plate. Eventually, time out took over, and I had a moment of peace as he shouted at the walls in his room. Once he returned, it began again.
How can I blame the kid? How many times has my heart shouted out "More Chocolate!" even when my external facade looked calm and serene? If I can say anything about this boy, it is that he is a product of his genes AND his environment. He comes from a "TAWKAT" loving family. We have created a monster.
Just look at his pitiful little face! Just look at the desperation in his eyes. Where are the pancakes? Where is the chocolate? Why is his horrible mother withholding such wonderful bliss from him?
Now, I am happy to say, all is well. He is adequately full and happy, and is currently watching Wishbone with his brothers. I have succeeded in making breakfast, and everyone is content.
Now I need a nap from dealing with the screaming wild man all morning! My husband gets off work in about 11 hours or so, not too long from now! My nap will come. And probably a few more time outs between now and then!!!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Baby Wonderings
I got news from a friend that has shaken me to my core. She is due to have her fifth child about 5 days before I am. She, like me, has four children of the same gender. Only her family is a sea of emotional, flowing estrogen, rather than rough and scratchy testosterone.
The news? She is having a boy. A boy!!! She did it. She figured out some way to have a child of the opposite gender from what she already has. How did this happen? I am happy for her. As a matter of fact, I literally shed tears of joy for her. And then......
The terror descended. What if I have a girl? What will I do with her? Where will we keep her pink things so that they don't drip onto the boy world we have so carefully crafted? Who will do her hair? It surely won't be me! I can't even do my OWN hair!
This is where I fall back on my faith to lower my blood pressure. God won't give me more than I, with His help, can handle. So, if this little critter is a girl, I will be able to handle it. To quote my wise sage of a husband, "We can't handle it yet because we don't need to yet." Actually that was more of a paraphrase on his regular how-we-will-make-it-with-no-money-in-the-future pep talk that he gives me. Either way, he is right. When we need to do it, we will be able to.
Honestly, I am mostly just trying not to care what this little one is. I just want a healthy, alive baby. I don't know that anyone who has had a miscarriage can ever really say they care what gender they have. I just want to hold this baby in my arms. That is all I care about.
It always amazes me that I can fall so deeply in love with someone I have never seen. I don't have a clue what this little person is like. I just know that I am his or her mommy. That is enough for me. And, every so often now, I can feel a little wiggling in my belly. This baby seems to be a mover and a shaker already. This just deepens my love for the little one because now this baby is real. And, to be honest, it makes the fear of losing this sweet baby all the more acute.
Thankfully I know God is in control. Either way, it is in control of a loving God who loves me and my family very much. I have to remind myself of this OFTEN!!!
So, either way, boy or girl, we will be thrilled to hold this little one. And if it is a girl, well, um, we'll cross that fluffy, lacey, rose-colored bridge when we come to it.
The news? She is having a boy. A boy!!! She did it. She figured out some way to have a child of the opposite gender from what she already has. How did this happen? I am happy for her. As a matter of fact, I literally shed tears of joy for her. And then......
The terror descended. What if I have a girl? What will I do with her? Where will we keep her pink things so that they don't drip onto the boy world we have so carefully crafted? Who will do her hair? It surely won't be me! I can't even do my OWN hair!
This is where I fall back on my faith to lower my blood pressure. God won't give me more than I, with His help, can handle. So, if this little critter is a girl, I will be able to handle it. To quote my wise sage of a husband, "We can't handle it yet because we don't need to yet." Actually that was more of a paraphrase on his regular how-we-will-make-it-with-no-money-in-the-future pep talk that he gives me. Either way, he is right. When we need to do it, we will be able to.
Honestly, I am mostly just trying not to care what this little one is. I just want a healthy, alive baby. I don't know that anyone who has had a miscarriage can ever really say they care what gender they have. I just want to hold this baby in my arms. That is all I care about.
It always amazes me that I can fall so deeply in love with someone I have never seen. I don't have a clue what this little person is like. I just know that I am his or her mommy. That is enough for me. And, every so often now, I can feel a little wiggling in my belly. This baby seems to be a mover and a shaker already. This just deepens my love for the little one because now this baby is real. And, to be honest, it makes the fear of losing this sweet baby all the more acute.
Thankfully I know God is in control. Either way, it is in control of a loving God who loves me and my family very much. I have to remind myself of this OFTEN!!!
So, either way, boy or girl, we will be thrilled to hold this little one. And if it is a girl, well, um, we'll cross that fluffy, lacey, rose-colored bridge when we come to it.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Visitor from Texas
My mother will be coming to visit this Wednesday. It is rare that we get visitors up here in the great Midwest, and when we have them, we are always very excited. My boys get to show off their world to their grandparents, aunts, or whoever is visiting, and to show a little of themselves off at the same time. That is cool.
There is, however, a downside. The cleaning. Have I mentioned that I HATE housework? I am content to work on the computer, balance our books for our family, raise and educate the children, shuttle little people back and forth to the places they need to go, shop, discipline said little people, anything but cleaning. I hate it. With all of my heart.
My sister is my hero. Every time I talk to her, she is cleaning something, or folding something, or mopping something. (That one was for you, sis.) Every time she is doing these things, I feel guilty. But then I tell myself, she has some time alone every day. Maybe if I wasn't constantly surrounded by little stinky boys I would get a bunch of things done, too. There, now I have my excuse to wallow in my own filth.
I must differentiate, here. I don't mind picking up. As a matter of fact, I am a bit of a fanatic with my boys that we keep the house picked up. Clutter makes me sinful. Clutter makes me want to cuss loudly. Clutter, well, let's just say its a bad thing. So, most of the time, our house remains picked up.
(Isn't that a funny phrase? Picking up the house? What a visual that is!)
Fast forward to today, and here I am needing to clean up my pitifully dirty home. My mother will be here in 4 days, and after today, I will only have one of those days at home without being gone for school, church, etc. Eeeeeeeeeeeeek. So, what are my choices here?
Well, I can clean like a fiend today. This is a good option since sons 1 through 3 will be gone at a friend's house all day. This leaves me and the 22 month old and a freshly bought, new set of cleaning supplies for the entire day. This sounds like a good plan.
There is another option, however. I could just say, forget it!! You birthed me, woman, so accept me the way I am! Come and sit in our grungy home and just love me without conditions!!!!!!
Okay, well, that doesn't sound like such a good option. And I am already doing that with my hair, so maybe I am going to clean all day.
I know she loves me without conditions, but there is only so much my pride can stand in one visit. My hair, well, we won't even go there. That I can't change right now. But the house, I can do something about.
So, I am off to the store to pick out a birthday present for the above mentioned friend of the boys, and then I will be cleaning the day away. I know I will survive. And it is only temporary after all. Some day I will finally be able to hire a maid to come and clean for me. Of course I will be taking my monthly trip to Disney World while she is here, so we will never even notice her. Probably by then the boys will all be doctors at age 16, and jointly ridding the world of all it's most terrible diseases. Since I am their mother, they will repay my hard work by supporting me and giving me my every dream come true. And as they are receiving their Nobel Peace Prize, they will credit me, yes me, for all of their accomplishments!
Well, really, is any of this less likely than me getting a maid? A girl can dream, right?
There is, however, a downside. The cleaning. Have I mentioned that I HATE housework? I am content to work on the computer, balance our books for our family, raise and educate the children, shuttle little people back and forth to the places they need to go, shop, discipline said little people, anything but cleaning. I hate it. With all of my heart.
My sister is my hero. Every time I talk to her, she is cleaning something, or folding something, or mopping something. (That one was for you, sis.) Every time she is doing these things, I feel guilty. But then I tell myself, she has some time alone every day. Maybe if I wasn't constantly surrounded by little stinky boys I would get a bunch of things done, too. There, now I have my excuse to wallow in my own filth.
I must differentiate, here. I don't mind picking up. As a matter of fact, I am a bit of a fanatic with my boys that we keep the house picked up. Clutter makes me sinful. Clutter makes me want to cuss loudly. Clutter, well, let's just say its a bad thing. So, most of the time, our house remains picked up.
(Isn't that a funny phrase? Picking up the house? What a visual that is!)
Fast forward to today, and here I am needing to clean up my pitifully dirty home. My mother will be here in 4 days, and after today, I will only have one of those days at home without being gone for school, church, etc. Eeeeeeeeeeeeek. So, what are my choices here?
Well, I can clean like a fiend today. This is a good option since sons 1 through 3 will be gone at a friend's house all day. This leaves me and the 22 month old and a freshly bought, new set of cleaning supplies for the entire day. This sounds like a good plan.
There is another option, however. I could just say, forget it!! You birthed me, woman, so accept me the way I am! Come and sit in our grungy home and just love me without conditions!!!!!!
Okay, well, that doesn't sound like such a good option. And I am already doing that with my hair, so maybe I am going to clean all day.
I know she loves me without conditions, but there is only so much my pride can stand in one visit. My hair, well, we won't even go there. That I can't change right now. But the house, I can do something about.
So, I am off to the store to pick out a birthday present for the above mentioned friend of the boys, and then I will be cleaning the day away. I know I will survive. And it is only temporary after all. Some day I will finally be able to hire a maid to come and clean for me. Of course I will be taking my monthly trip to Disney World while she is here, so we will never even notice her. Probably by then the boys will all be doctors at age 16, and jointly ridding the world of all it's most terrible diseases. Since I am their mother, they will repay my hard work by supporting me and giving me my every dream come true. And as they are receiving their Nobel Peace Prize, they will credit me, yes me, for all of their accomplishments!
Well, really, is any of this less likely than me getting a maid? A girl can dream, right?
Friday, October 3, 2008
Blogging While Baking
I must be leaving the first trimester of pregnancy, because I am cooking again. Still gagging and hating certain smells, (today it was a rotten potato at the store, and pesto in my sink) but overall able to function in the kitchen again.
So, that explains my title. I am baking. And blogging.
Have I told you about our small group? They are six families (plus ours) that get together every other Friday night to just encourage one another in our faith, laugh a lot, and eat. We also pray for each other, which for many of us has been our lifeline through hard times.
(Pausing to take out cookies.)
Okay, cookies out, more in. Now, back to my small group. These families are some of our closest friends who know just about all there is to know about us. This is a close group, and we look forward to Fridays because of it.
So what does this have to do with baking, you ask?
Well, we eat dinner and dessert together. We take turns providing aspects of the meal, what they call a "pitch in" in these here parts, what I grew up calling a potluck. Tonight, it is my turn to make dessert for the adults and snacks for the 20+ children that we all bring along with us. We will be having a breakfast dinner tonight, so what does one bring to breakfast for dessert? Why cinnamon rolls, of course.
It seems that ever time we have breakfast together, I get put on dessert duty. And oddly enough, I always bring cinnamon rolls. There are several possible reasons for this. One would be the drooling lips and watery eyes that always greet me when I walk in the room with two pans of cinnamon rolls. (This is primarily the men.) Another could be that I love them more than any other food on earth, and I look, even search, for reasons to make them.
So today I shopped and got my cinnamon roll supplies. I was set. Then my beloved hubby says, "So what are you bringing for the kids?"
Silence. Then, "Oh, shooooooooooooot!!!!!!" I totally forgot. Hence the cookies. Hopefully the little boogers will be happy with a simple oatmeal cookie, because that is all I could pull together on short notice!!!
Well, off to make cinnamon roll filling. Oh, baby. Did I mention these are heaven on a plate? Or a bowl? Or in your hand, if you are not afraid of a sticky mess? Well, if I didn't, I highly recommend you email me for the recipe for these rolls. You will NEVER be sorry.
Tonight I will meet with my great friends, eat breakfast, and dodge the men as they knock down every woman in the place to get a cinnamon roll on their plate. And then, I will sigh contentedly as I pick myself up off the floor, wiping the size 13 footprints off my face.
My work here is done.
So, that explains my title. I am baking. And blogging.
Have I told you about our small group? They are six families (plus ours) that get together every other Friday night to just encourage one another in our faith, laugh a lot, and eat. We also pray for each other, which for many of us has been our lifeline through hard times.
(Pausing to take out cookies.)
Okay, cookies out, more in. Now, back to my small group. These families are some of our closest friends who know just about all there is to know about us. This is a close group, and we look forward to Fridays because of it.
So what does this have to do with baking, you ask?
Well, we eat dinner and dessert together. We take turns providing aspects of the meal, what they call a "pitch in" in these here parts, what I grew up calling a potluck. Tonight, it is my turn to make dessert for the adults and snacks for the 20+ children that we all bring along with us. We will be having a breakfast dinner tonight, so what does one bring to breakfast for dessert? Why cinnamon rolls, of course.
It seems that ever time we have breakfast together, I get put on dessert duty. And oddly enough, I always bring cinnamon rolls. There are several possible reasons for this. One would be the drooling lips and watery eyes that always greet me when I walk in the room with two pans of cinnamon rolls. (This is primarily the men.) Another could be that I love them more than any other food on earth, and I look, even search, for reasons to make them.
So today I shopped and got my cinnamon roll supplies. I was set. Then my beloved hubby says, "So what are you bringing for the kids?"
Silence. Then, "Oh, shooooooooooooot!!!!!!" I totally forgot. Hence the cookies. Hopefully the little boogers will be happy with a simple oatmeal cookie, because that is all I could pull together on short notice!!!
Well, off to make cinnamon roll filling. Oh, baby. Did I mention these are heaven on a plate? Or a bowl? Or in your hand, if you are not afraid of a sticky mess? Well, if I didn't, I highly recommend you email me for the recipe for these rolls. You will NEVER be sorry.
Tonight I will meet with my great friends, eat breakfast, and dodge the men as they knock down every woman in the place to get a cinnamon roll on their plate. And then, I will sigh contentedly as I pick myself up off the floor, wiping the size 13 footprints off my face.
My work here is done.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The Incredible Shape-Shifting Boy
My 8 year old is amazing. While you may look at him and see a sweet, blonde haird, blue-eyed, average little boy, in reality, he is........well.........it varies from day to day. At the start of every day, this beautiful boy emerges from the living room, meets me at my bed, or wherever I happen to be at the time, and announces to me what he is that day.
Probably my most favorite of all of his alter egos is "Super-Sharp Thornbush Man." It was my favorite because he made this noise like spikes flying out of something metal, and I swear I could see his thorns popping out. Very scary, indeed.
This morning he sat down on my bed and said, "Hi, momma."
To which I replied, "Hi!"
Then I could see it coming. The wide eyed, patient expression on his face that told me to buckle in because I was about to find out today's identity. And then it came. "You know what I am?"
"What are you?"
"A Ghoul."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, and I have dark blue skin, red zombie eyes, a bright yellow mouth, with a Grim Reaper hat and cloak with dark blue zombie hands. I have dark blue feet with toenails as sharp as vampire fangs and they are as long as my pointer finger but curved."
"How do you walk?" I asked.
"I claw the ground or I float!"
What else could I say? "Um, wow!"
For those of you who are NOT boys, does this strike you as a little odd? Well, it used to with me, but after several years of seeing him capably exist in our world with all of his "other identities" I am convinced that he is able to pull this double life off beautifully. Don't worry.
What concerns me is this: Why can't he be a something a little less violent? Or scary? Or mean? I am raising my sons in the church. I don't let them watch scary movies or TV. We talk about heros in history and from the Bible. So why isn't he pretending to be one of those?
I think the answer lies in the fact that he possesses a Y chromosome. They tend toward rough, violent, war related things. What I need to do is embrace my inner little boy, and just make our history and Bible sound rough, violent and war related. It really isn't hard to do when we are talking about the Old Testament!! There are plenty of battles and war to choose from.
So this will be my next goal in parenting. Make the Bible sound more violent!! I'm not sure this is my most lofty goal ever, but my son with blue skin and finger-long toenails is not a picture I want to dwell on for very long!!! My only concern is that if I do this, he might approach me one morning and say, "Hey momma. Guess who I am?"
To which I will reply, "Who?" because I am a well trained monkey after all these years.
I have no doubt it will be something like this: "I am a huge giant Philistine and I am coming to kill all the puny Isrealites with my giant club and sword."
Sigh. Where am I going wrong? Somehow the good guy isn't as exciting as the bad guy to these boys. I'm going to work on that!!!
As James Dobson said, even if you refuse to give a boy a toy gun, he will find a way to make one out of something. It is in the nature of a kid to want to be rough and have weapons. Heaven help the mommy who raises these little warmongers!!!!
Probably my most favorite of all of his alter egos is "Super-Sharp Thornbush Man." It was my favorite because he made this noise like spikes flying out of something metal, and I swear I could see his thorns popping out. Very scary, indeed.
This morning he sat down on my bed and said, "Hi, momma."
To which I replied, "Hi!"
Then I could see it coming. The wide eyed, patient expression on his face that told me to buckle in because I was about to find out today's identity. And then it came. "You know what I am?"
"What are you?"
"A Ghoul."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, and I have dark blue skin, red zombie eyes, a bright yellow mouth, with a Grim Reaper hat and cloak with dark blue zombie hands. I have dark blue feet with toenails as sharp as vampire fangs and they are as long as my pointer finger but curved."
"How do you walk?" I asked.
"I claw the ground or I float!"
What else could I say? "Um, wow!"
For those of you who are NOT boys, does this strike you as a little odd? Well, it used to with me, but after several years of seeing him capably exist in our world with all of his "other identities" I am convinced that he is able to pull this double life off beautifully. Don't worry.
What concerns me is this: Why can't he be a something a little less violent? Or scary? Or mean? I am raising my sons in the church. I don't let them watch scary movies or TV. We talk about heros in history and from the Bible. So why isn't he pretending to be one of those?
I think the answer lies in the fact that he possesses a Y chromosome. They tend toward rough, violent, war related things. What I need to do is embrace my inner little boy, and just make our history and Bible sound rough, violent and war related. It really isn't hard to do when we are talking about the Old Testament!! There are plenty of battles and war to choose from.
So this will be my next goal in parenting. Make the Bible sound more violent!! I'm not sure this is my most lofty goal ever, but my son with blue skin and finger-long toenails is not a picture I want to dwell on for very long!!! My only concern is that if I do this, he might approach me one morning and say, "Hey momma. Guess who I am?"
To which I will reply, "Who?" because I am a well trained monkey after all these years.
I have no doubt it will be something like this: "I am a huge giant Philistine and I am coming to kill all the puny Isrealites with my giant club and sword."
Sigh. Where am I going wrong? Somehow the good guy isn't as exciting as the bad guy to these boys. I'm going to work on that!!!
As James Dobson said, even if you refuse to give a boy a toy gun, he will find a way to make one out of something. It is in the nature of a kid to want to be rough and have weapons. Heaven help the mommy who raises these little warmongers!!!!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Okay, am I obsessed?????
My oldest son, who has a knack for making comments that hit me at my most insecure spot, has done it again. He made a comment the other day, something along the lines of how I talk about recipes and food all the time. Once I nailed him down, and asked him if he has EVER heard me talk about ANYTHING but food, he admitted that his "all the time" was a little misplaced. And I truly believe that he wasn't trying to insult me. It was more along the lines of a 9 year old's observation.
Well, maybe he is right. I LOVE to cook. When a beautiful recipe comes together to make something that I would be happy to serve in a restaurant, I get immense satisfaction. I get on the phone and share it with my friends. I email my husband and tell him to start salivating now, because heaven is waiting in the fridge for him when he gets home! In short, I love cooking.
In a recent past life I was a personal chef. It took me away from my little chickens once too often, so I let it go, but it was a great thing for me. I loved sharing my food with others. It was also one of the scariest things I have ever done. Sometimes.....GASP!!!...the person didn't like something I had made! Something that I personally knew to be the yummiest creation any chef could ever lay on a plate. Something I have been getting great reviews on for years on end. I know that personal food preferences are just that. Personal. But come on!!!!! How could you not like THAT?????
So, I have been trying to not obsess about my recipes. I was doing well, until the other day. I was craving, in my pregnant body, thick soup. So, I checked my recipe file, and I found a recipe I have never made before for Cheddar Broccoli Soup. I made it, I tasted it, and I fell off the wagon. I had to call my sister. I had to tell my mother. I had to tell my husband, and when he came home late that night I had to force some down his throat even though he said he wasn't particularly hungry.
To my IMMENSE satisfaction, he sighed. He rolled his eyes back in his head a little. He said "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." He agreed with me that in any restaurant, we would consider this the best Cheddar Broccoli soup we had ever eaten. And, to top it off, he got seconds. Now THAT is success. If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, I've got this guy hooked forever!!
So, maybe I am obsessed. But, I also have a houseload of 5 men that really like to eat, so maybe that isn't a bad thing right now. And if this baby turns out to be a boy, which it surely will, then I will have yet another growing boy to feed. And let me tell you, these people can put away the food.
Ahhhhh, the satisfaction of feeding the troops well. The personal satisfaction of hearing my boys say, "Momma, you should open a restaurant." Not to mention the personal satisfaction of eating yummy food!! But, I will try to achieve balance so it is not ALL I think about, thank you, son number one.
Don't even get me started on the cinnamon rolls!
Well, maybe he is right. I LOVE to cook. When a beautiful recipe comes together to make something that I would be happy to serve in a restaurant, I get immense satisfaction. I get on the phone and share it with my friends. I email my husband and tell him to start salivating now, because heaven is waiting in the fridge for him when he gets home! In short, I love cooking.
In a recent past life I was a personal chef. It took me away from my little chickens once too often, so I let it go, but it was a great thing for me. I loved sharing my food with others. It was also one of the scariest things I have ever done. Sometimes.....GASP!!!...the person didn't like something I had made! Something that I personally knew to be the yummiest creation any chef could ever lay on a plate. Something I have been getting great reviews on for years on end. I know that personal food preferences are just that. Personal. But come on!!!!! How could you not like THAT?????
So, I have been trying to not obsess about my recipes. I was doing well, until the other day. I was craving, in my pregnant body, thick soup. So, I checked my recipe file, and I found a recipe I have never made before for Cheddar Broccoli Soup. I made it, I tasted it, and I fell off the wagon. I had to call my sister. I had to tell my mother. I had to tell my husband, and when he came home late that night I had to force some down his throat even though he said he wasn't particularly hungry.
To my IMMENSE satisfaction, he sighed. He rolled his eyes back in his head a little. He said "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." He agreed with me that in any restaurant, we would consider this the best Cheddar Broccoli soup we had ever eaten. And, to top it off, he got seconds. Now THAT is success. If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, I've got this guy hooked forever!!
So, maybe I am obsessed. But, I also have a houseload of 5 men that really like to eat, so maybe that isn't a bad thing right now. And if this baby turns out to be a boy, which it surely will, then I will have yet another growing boy to feed. And let me tell you, these people can put away the food.
Ahhhhh, the satisfaction of feeding the troops well. The personal satisfaction of hearing my boys say, "Momma, you should open a restaurant." Not to mention the personal satisfaction of eating yummy food!! But, I will try to achieve balance so it is not ALL I think about, thank you, son number one.
Don't even get me started on the cinnamon rolls!
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
The Romantic Side of Kindergarten
I will be the first to admit that my 5 year old is a doll. Dimples, cheeks, blue eyes and blonde hair. Just too cute for words. Well, apparently, I am not the only girl who thinks this is true.
A couple of weeks ago, my boy came home from Wednesday night church and told me that the little sister of my 8 year old's best friend had announced to him that she "has a crush" on him. He was quite embarrassed by this, and just seemed to want it to go away. I laughed about it, told him this girl has really good taste, and just moved on. Oh, if it were only that easy.
Yesterday, my 5 year old had his first day of Kindergarten at the homeschool academy my kids attend once a week. He was so excited, and had lots of fun stuff to tell me at the end of the day. His favorite class probably was something like....lunch. Normal boy stuff.
So this morning, as I am settling down to school the kids, I get a phone call from a mom from our school. She and I both work for the school taking care of the younger kids, so I figured it was business. I figured wrong. Here is how it went.
Friend: "Julie, this is (friend). I just needed to talk to you about what happened at school between my daughter and your son."
Me: "I didn't know anything had happened!" Undoubtedly this is because she has the daughter and I have the son. These boys just don't tell me anything sometimes! Especially the juicy stuff.
Friend: "Well, my daughter had heard that so and so at church has a crush on your son, so she decided that she does, too. Then she led her little friend to also say that she had a crush on him, and they both ended up kissing him."
Me: Silence. Then, "Okaaaaay, he did not tell me about this!!!"
Friend: "Well, I wanted you to know about it, and that the mom of the other girl and I really are sorry to have had him put in such an uncomfortable position. I am sure he was embarrassed. But he dealt with it in a way that I and the other mom think was really great. I just want you to know that first. We like the way he handled it."
Me: "Uh-oh, what did he do?"
Friend: "Well, he turned to the girls and told them that if they didn't stop he was going to beat them up."
That's my boy. (Sigh.)
So we talked about how I would still be having a talk with him about how we don't ever beat up girls or even SAY we are going to beat up girls. She talked about how this was just an innocent kid thing, but she wanted her daughter to apologize anyway, so she got on the phone with me, and through HEAVY sobs told me she was sorry. I kindly passed on my forgiveness to this poor little broken, embarrassed girl, and then, the real horror began as she had to apologize to the "kiss-ee".
I should say the real horror began for him. He truly didn't even know why she was apologizing. And when he asked me why she was, I whispered, "Because she kissed you." Suddenly he must have been possessed by Yoda or something, because in some weird voice I have never heard him make before, he began saying to this poor little sweet girl, "I forgive you I don't care. I forgive you I don't care." He said this three or four times, and then I took the phone away from him to spare her the agony of listening to that voice anymore. (Or maybe to spare ME the agony!)
What have I learned from this? What nugget of truth can I take away from this and learn from it? Nothing. None. Nada. It just is hilariously funny. Well, I guess I learned that my friend is a sweet caring mommy who really loves her girl and wants to guard her purity of heart as she grows older. I love that about her. Maybe I learned that I need to spend some more time on chivalry with my boys, and on learning how to NOT threaten to beat up a girl.
Mostly I think I learned that my boys are so cute I am going to have to lock them away until they are 35. This was not our first kissing issue in Kindergarten. When son #2 was in Kindergarten, he was also kissed by a girl with a crush on him. Who knew that Kindergarten had so much romance and drama in it?
Come to think of it, it won't hurt them to wait to date until they are 40, will it? Will it? Wait, don't answer that. This is my plan and I am sticking to it!
A couple of weeks ago, my boy came home from Wednesday night church and told me that the little sister of my 8 year old's best friend had announced to him that she "has a crush" on him. He was quite embarrassed by this, and just seemed to want it to go away. I laughed about it, told him this girl has really good taste, and just moved on. Oh, if it were only that easy.
Yesterday, my 5 year old had his first day of Kindergarten at the homeschool academy my kids attend once a week. He was so excited, and had lots of fun stuff to tell me at the end of the day. His favorite class probably was something like....lunch. Normal boy stuff.
So this morning, as I am settling down to school the kids, I get a phone call from a mom from our school. She and I both work for the school taking care of the younger kids, so I figured it was business. I figured wrong. Here is how it went.
Friend: "Julie, this is (friend). I just needed to talk to you about what happened at school between my daughter and your son."
Me: "I didn't know anything had happened!" Undoubtedly this is because she has the daughter and I have the son. These boys just don't tell me anything sometimes! Especially the juicy stuff.
Friend: "Well, my daughter had heard that so and so at church has a crush on your son, so she decided that she does, too. Then she led her little friend to also say that she had a crush on him, and they both ended up kissing him."
Me: Silence. Then, "Okaaaaay, he did not tell me about this!!!"
Friend: "Well, I wanted you to know about it, and that the mom of the other girl and I really are sorry to have had him put in such an uncomfortable position. I am sure he was embarrassed. But he dealt with it in a way that I and the other mom think was really great. I just want you to know that first. We like the way he handled it."
Me: "Uh-oh, what did he do?"
Friend: "Well, he turned to the girls and told them that if they didn't stop he was going to beat them up."
That's my boy. (Sigh.)
So we talked about how I would still be having a talk with him about how we don't ever beat up girls or even SAY we are going to beat up girls. She talked about how this was just an innocent kid thing, but she wanted her daughter to apologize anyway, so she got on the phone with me, and through HEAVY sobs told me she was sorry. I kindly passed on my forgiveness to this poor little broken, embarrassed girl, and then, the real horror began as she had to apologize to the "kiss-ee".
I should say the real horror began for him. He truly didn't even know why she was apologizing. And when he asked me why she was, I whispered, "Because she kissed you." Suddenly he must have been possessed by Yoda or something, because in some weird voice I have never heard him make before, he began saying to this poor little sweet girl, "I forgive you I don't care. I forgive you I don't care." He said this three or four times, and then I took the phone away from him to spare her the agony of listening to that voice anymore. (Or maybe to spare ME the agony!)
What have I learned from this? What nugget of truth can I take away from this and learn from it? Nothing. None. Nada. It just is hilariously funny. Well, I guess I learned that my friend is a sweet caring mommy who really loves her girl and wants to guard her purity of heart as she grows older. I love that about her. Maybe I learned that I need to spend some more time on chivalry with my boys, and on learning how to NOT threaten to beat up a girl.
Mostly I think I learned that my boys are so cute I am going to have to lock them away until they are 35. This was not our first kissing issue in Kindergarten. When son #2 was in Kindergarten, he was also kissed by a girl with a crush on him. Who knew that Kindergarten had so much romance and drama in it?
Come to think of it, it won't hurt them to wait to date until they are 40, will it? Will it? Wait, don't answer that. This is my plan and I am sticking to it!
Saturday, August 30, 2008
11 Years, 4 AM, Learning Acceptance
Today is my 11th wedding anniversary. 11 years ago today, I married the sweetest, kindest, most patient man on earth. He has had a lot to be patient with, marrying me! I have been blessed beyond measure as his wife. Maybe not in the traditional sense that some may think. We don't have a ton of money, our house is small, our cars are not fancy. But we have got it where it counts. After 11 years, 4 kids and 6 pregnancies, we love each other. Plain and simple.
So, why am I up at 4 am? It is because, at 6 weeks and 6 days pregnant, I am bleeding. I was blessed to see our little baby yesterday via ultrasound. All 4 mm of it, beating heart and all. Amazing. How can anything that is 4 mm long have a heart beat that I was able to hear and that they clocked at 128 beats per minute? Friends, anyone who doubts God's existence must never have listened to their baby's heartbeat at 6 weeks and 5 days gestation.
Since the baby is so small, about the size of a bean, the boys and I are calling it "Beanie". The boys have been troopers. They served me all day yesterday so that I could stay on the couch and give Beanie a rest. Or, more appropriately, give Beanie's house a rest. I have never seen those boys so unselfish and ready to help. It was such a comfort to my heart to see my blessings walking around in front of me.
And yet, I am frustrated. I feel like my body is betraying me. My blood levels are all normal, I am resting, and yet I am still bleeding. I know that everything might be okay, and I am praying to that end, yet I am angry with my womb. Just quit already! I wish shouting at my body would work, because if it would work, I would do it. Alas, stressing myself out by shouting at my body won't help.
So, here I am at 4 am. I am grateful to God for all of my blessings, and I am scared. My dear friend sent me this scripture: "I lift my eyes up to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth." He made me, this world, the heavens, everything that is part of my world. He made my sweet little Beanie. He knows, better than we do, what we need, and what this baby needs. If He chooses to take this little one ahead of us, we know it had to be a compassionate choice full of love for us and for our baby.
We recently lost our nephew. He was a very sick baby while he was alive. We prayed and prayed for him, but ultimately, the Lord chose to bring him home. It has crossed my mind several times that maybe this baby is sick. If I were to lose this baby, could it be a mercy to this little one to keep it from suffering? I just don't know. What it boils down to is, the Lord is good. There is no evil in Him. He can't screw up. He isn't sleeping and missing this. He is just good and in control.
So, I am going to lay down and pray that our baby isn't going to die. But mostly I will pray for sleep for my weary mind. Man, I am glad no one ever said that walking through this life should be easy. But, for this moment, God has given me a husband who wants to walk beside me through all of this, and I am not alone. Even without him, I wouldn't be alone. I am blessed beyond measure, and clinging to the truth that nothing can change that fact. 11 years, 4 kids, 1 miscarriage and a currently scary pregnancy later, I have more blessings than I can count. I wouldn't give any of this back. Not even this little time I have had with Beanie. Whatever the outcome, God gave me another life to carry, and I am grateful.
So, why am I up at 4 am? It is because, at 6 weeks and 6 days pregnant, I am bleeding. I was blessed to see our little baby yesterday via ultrasound. All 4 mm of it, beating heart and all. Amazing. How can anything that is 4 mm long have a heart beat that I was able to hear and that they clocked at 128 beats per minute? Friends, anyone who doubts God's existence must never have listened to their baby's heartbeat at 6 weeks and 5 days gestation.
Since the baby is so small, about the size of a bean, the boys and I are calling it "Beanie". The boys have been troopers. They served me all day yesterday so that I could stay on the couch and give Beanie a rest. Or, more appropriately, give Beanie's house a rest. I have never seen those boys so unselfish and ready to help. It was such a comfort to my heart to see my blessings walking around in front of me.
And yet, I am frustrated. I feel like my body is betraying me. My blood levels are all normal, I am resting, and yet I am still bleeding. I know that everything might be okay, and I am praying to that end, yet I am angry with my womb. Just quit already! I wish shouting at my body would work, because if it would work, I would do it. Alas, stressing myself out by shouting at my body won't help.
So, here I am at 4 am. I am grateful to God for all of my blessings, and I am scared. My dear friend sent me this scripture: "I lift my eyes up to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth." He made me, this world, the heavens, everything that is part of my world. He made my sweet little Beanie. He knows, better than we do, what we need, and what this baby needs. If He chooses to take this little one ahead of us, we know it had to be a compassionate choice full of love for us and for our baby.
We recently lost our nephew. He was a very sick baby while he was alive. We prayed and prayed for him, but ultimately, the Lord chose to bring him home. It has crossed my mind several times that maybe this baby is sick. If I were to lose this baby, could it be a mercy to this little one to keep it from suffering? I just don't know. What it boils down to is, the Lord is good. There is no evil in Him. He can't screw up. He isn't sleeping and missing this. He is just good and in control.
So, I am going to lay down and pray that our baby isn't going to die. But mostly I will pray for sleep for my weary mind. Man, I am glad no one ever said that walking through this life should be easy. But, for this moment, God has given me a husband who wants to walk beside me through all of this, and I am not alone. Even without him, I wouldn't be alone. I am blessed beyond measure, and clinging to the truth that nothing can change that fact. 11 years, 4 kids, 1 miscarriage and a currently scary pregnancy later, I have more blessings than I can count. I wouldn't give any of this back. Not even this little time I have had with Beanie. Whatever the outcome, God gave me another life to carry, and I am grateful.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Smiles vs. Frowns
Have you ever asked yourself, at what point did it become okay to look happy in a photograph? My dear husband and I were mulling over this question as we looked at a picture my father sent to me yesterday. I would say we could all agree that a 50th anniversary should be a smiling, happy occasion. Yet, let's take a look at my great grandparents on their 50th anniversary....
Bless their little hearts, what is going on there? They are having a party, no doubt family has gathered around to celebrate their life together, shoot, that box looks like it came from a bakery for crying out loud!!! What could possibly be wrong with that? And yet, they look like they are attending a wake!!!
Surely this must be a cultural thing. Surely they weren't just that unhappy!!! If they were, then most of their generation and those before them were miserable, unhappy, and desperate to not have their photos taken, because this type of picture was the norm for a really long time.
Contrast this with our photos now. Here is one from our wedding:
Here we are, happy, smiling, glad to finally be married! (Not to mention WAY, WAY skinnier than we are now.) I am so glad that I was born in the smiling generation.
Truth is, things probably are way easier for us then they were for them. I have my fill of anything I want from the local mega mart. I can stay home with my kids while my husband goes off to his office job. I wash my clothes in an electric washer, wash my dishes in an electric dishwasher, my carpets are cleaned with our electric vacuum cleaner. When I have the time, I blog and catch up with the world around me via computer or the news. Compared to our previous generations, I have a cushy life.
Well, I am thankful for that, although somewhere inside it shames me a bit. I know for sure that there are people out there today living an even harder life than my great grandparents did. So, rather than feel satisfied with my life of luxury, I am going to spend today just being thankful for my blessings. Because, as I look at my home, my boys, my hubby and my electric washing machine, I realize, I have a LOT to smile about!!! Excuse me while I run and get my camera!!
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