From the Sick House

...Again.

One thing I find a bit heart-tugging , is when my runny, goopy, sneezing
toddlers want to love on our baby.
I can almost see the germs as they spew and ooze from one to the other and still
I can't bring myself to shoo the doting masses away.

At the expense of my fresh new baby's dry nose, I let his siblings cuddle up close and enjoy him.

From the time I had two children under 2 and one of them was a new big brother,
I determined to let the big one have access to the little.
18 month-old big brothers aren't especially soft or gentle in their movements.
Strokes and caresses are more like accidental socks and conks.  Sweet innocent infants
are loved to squished in my home as I monitor carefully within close proximity.

This decision made about 10 years ago has been harder at times than a quarantine
as I watch my sweet innocent infants be loved to smothers.
With breath sucked in I gently instruct the big brother or sister in their new roll,
and have seen over and over again that newly initiated "Big" take ownership.

Of all the parenting experiments I have tried, this one has yielded some of the most
 precious fruit over and over again.

Confidence to approach this wiggly new bundle without fear of reproach
has resulted in a desire to be near, to be helpful, and to engage in play and in conversation.
It has resulted in camaraderie.
As I show the Big how to hug, and kiss, and pat, and wipe spits from the face of his baby,
there are a certain amount of bumps that happen as well (and for the sake of this post,
germs and illness too).

But babies are resilient.

It's much harder to promote that sibling bond
after months of telling his hopeful new protector to back off.

And so our baby has the sickness too.  It' frustrating, but it's what is.

I try to mitigate the damage with encouragement to wash hands before touching,
and to not sneeze in his face, and to scoot back a little so to not share germs...
but I am more interested in the long-term relationship between brothers
than the short-term discomfort and inconvenience of dealing with more flu.

I'm certainly no expert in parenting, but I do know it's no fun nursing a house-full of sickies.
More than the usual share of energy-taxing, sleep-depriving duties multiply when germs
 invade 10 otherwise healthy bodies.
However that's nothing to the job of parenting with wisdom in the midst of brain fog;
and when wisdom says to take the harder path (which may even mean less than the little
sleep you're already getting), well...
it's hard.

But if the Holy Spirit leads your heart in the direction of the difficult, 
follow.

The rewards are greater than can be imagined.

Brothers:  Bryce 3 and a Half.  Miles 6 weeks old.

Putting the Pieces Together... Slowly.

I don't usually play Christmas music this early, but today it just seemed like the right thing.
I wasn't going to fix the froo-froo whipped-cream topped coffee today, but then it started snowing...

And after the bumpy morning ride, I couldn't apply my brain to any more school.

*Side thought here, what's with having to do so much school anyway?!!
   After collecting a diploma I thought I was done.  I didn't realize what was ahead in teaching
   5 different grades and wrangling 2 toddlers while pregnant, potty training,  and trying to fix dinner.

Okay so back to my brain being used up.

I then decided to sew binding on a quilt, and it's amazing how benevolent Christmas music,
mocha and snow can make you when you're doing something therapeutic
- like not overtaxing brain cells. Ha!

I found I could work through a reading lesson with Lina, and a math chapter with Clay, and all of a
sudden my binding was attached.


I have been trying for years to sort out how my roll as mother fits together with that of teacher.
I say years because I am standing on my own mothers shoulders, and I know that she wrestled with
that same question frequently as she taught 3 different grades while wrangling 4 toddlers, potty training,
and trying to fix dinner.  And believe me - fixing dinner is not the hard part!

It's been a slow process, but I'm coming to realize that I am not dividing two roles.
I am one mother all the time, teaching and training and instructing my children as life flows naturally.
Since life's "natural" flow entails a lot of interruptions, accidents, and attitudes, I have to figure it's all
a part of our learning process.

My mom did what she believed was best for her family, but I'm pretty sure she was trying daily to convince
herself of what she believed. It's hard to tread a new path, and that's what she did.

I don't have to convince myself.  I believe in what I'm doing, and that's largely in
part due to the first-hand experience I grew up with. I lived the value, the importance, and the blessing
of how my mom spent her time.

I hope my daughters will stand on my shoulders, will live with even greater understanding of what
motherhood means.  Lord willing, I look forward to watching them work out different puzzles,
not the same ones I  labor over.

I know that what I am doing here with my children is valuable, but I am becoming more comfortable
with looking at interruptions as part of the teaching package and not as a curve I can't hit.
I'm willing to stop and change direction when something's not working, or someone is hung up
on an assignment they can't wrap their brain around.

"Do something else for a while...
Come back to it...
Bring in some firewood...
Go out and catch snowflakes for a few minutes..."

And same for me - I'm overwhelmed.  I'm taking a bit of a break to sew binding on this quilt, to turn
the music up, to sip something that tickles my taste buds, to watch flames lick a piece of split birch.

This is life.




























 A few moments of reprieve can refresh the soul to carry on, and that's a lesson which reaches farther
than dividing fractions or cleaning up a puddle of pee on the floor.  We don't always get that reprieve,
but in many cases, who's decision is that?  I get to decide.  I'm the mother/teacher/potty-trainer... :-)

I'm learning.
It's a process, always a process, but I find I can never learn too much about grace! Bring on the grace.

We taught ourselves how to felt balls last night, and today the girls are busy with other colorful
projects.

The wire LOVE above my window are letters that Susanna worked for me when she was "playing"
outside yesterday (did we count that as school?).  She also created a USA, and MOM.

There is not much that compares with the pleasure of watching my children develop into their
own people with their own ideas, their own art and interpretations, their own uniqueness.

Shh.... can't say too much about the other scraps and tidbits in the photos - at least not yet :-)

A cup half-full... of sunshine

Every snapshot is a true picture

and every snapshot is focused on just one part of the whole.

In all life there is more to the picture - even if it's the addition of an unseen

photographer behind a camera. 

A wider angle usually includes clues to the big picture - more to the story:

toys, dirty socks, trash, unfinished projects, open books strewn across a table...

the one child not interested in participating, a broken part, dust bunnies.

You don't always see those things when the presented perspective is zoomed in.

It's not that the idyllic image is untrue, 

but rather, only a part of a much bigger picture.

I am not being deceptive when I focus in on the beautiful.  the noble.  the best part

of  my own bigger picture, it's just that I see dirty socks every day.  I am well aware

of all things in the "strewn" category (which encompasses more than books),

and these days I have so many dust bunnies I hardly notice them at all!

But I can always use more practice seeing 

the best and most lovely part of the picture.

You know... not the wide angle view -  the part where my children forgot to wipe

the counters when they cleaned the kitchen...

but the sweet part where they did the  whole chore while enjoying each other

and filling the room with laughter..

Not the far-back vantage where fort-building materials are as rubble in my living room...

but the look-a-little-closer perspective to see that some thoughtful souls 

remembered to pick up the books,

getting them onto a bookcase beyond reach of book-ravaging babies.

...{Thank you dear ones.  Thanks for noticing and taking care of it )...

Not the mud tracked in...

but the fist of flowers ceremoniously presented.

Not the hammer left in the driveway...

but the groceries unloaded and put away.

Not the schoolwork I didn't correct...

but the math books with every page completed. 

Not the refrigerator which needs a good scrubbing out...

but the strawberries for dinner.

Not today's weather forecast for "partially cloudy"...

but tomorrow's prediction for "partially sunny".

See, the clouds are there whether it's partially cloudy or partially sunny.

But so is the sun.

The only real difference is what you choose to pay attention to.

Take heart beloved!  There is a real story behind every lovely picture. 

(and incidentally a mud tracked floor is not a shameful part of the picture.

It's a real {oh so very real} part, but not the piece I wish to magnify)

I will encourage you that our "bigger picture" is full of real life ant invasions, dust bunnies,

sticky spills, underwear left on the bathroom floor and water splashed on the walls.

Our people are imperfect.

As with any good, wholesome perspective of a partially sunny day,

we have lots to celebrate and so we do!  

Not from fear of letting people see the grit for themselves,

but from a  heart full to the brim 

and splashing over with grateful appreciation 

for the sunshine.

"Finally brethren, 

whatsoever things are true, 

whatsoever things are honest,

whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure,

whatsoever things are lovely,

whatsoever things are of good report,

if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise,

think on these things."

Philippians 4:8

It seemed like measureable success.

Whew!  What a day.
Quite a good day if I say so myself, but I'm just wondering how it's 10:30 at night already!
I'm in the throes of revamping the school-day agenda.  We don't use a scheduled curriculum,
so I usually focus on several subjects for a portion of time (weeks/months) and then
transition to some others.  We do Bible reading together and our three R's every day, but may
work on social studies or the sciences by turns. 

It so happens that family life is ever-changing.  It is dynamic.  It is seasonal.
There are seasons in which I get more sleep; there are seasons I muddle through morning sickness.
There are seasons where I plan and make all the meals; and seasons where one of my children/students
take over breakfast prep and little brother feeding so I can feed the baby.  Or shower.
Sometimes there are even seasons when I shower and get dressed before noon! 

Life requires some flexibility.  If we can't roll with the punches, we teach our children something
untrue:  that we are for the system. 
I want them to understand that the system is there for us.   
Our schedule, our lists, our lessons, and chapters are serving us and we use them to benefit our
quest for knowledge, for skill, and most importantly for the shaping of good character.
I find there are a lot of character lessons to be learned in the flexible moments we experience!                                                              
So today I tweak.  Again.  Still.  What is working?  Sometimes what is not working is a longer list...
or feels like it... or I need to look harder - maybe in another corner where success is hiding modestly
under the cloak of a victorious heart lesson.
Maybe even my heart.
Hopefully.

What bliss is the day that runs like clockwork!  Your people are dressed before reading commences,
 you actually ate something yourself before that time.  And fed the baby (never mind the shower - that
can come later).  Your people remembered their chores, and even remembered to wipe little brother's
sticky hands before setting him on the loose! 
The day when you planned ahead enough.  When your dinner was already simmering on the stove at
noon, and the ones who were doing personal homework were (wonder of wonders) not distracting
each other!  The little ones were even playing sweetly.

Why isn't this the day your nosy neighbors drops by.  Or your mother-in-law.  Why?!!  This is that
"perfect" day for showing everyone you . can . do it!

Ahhhh me.

Remind me to savor it, because I'm going to need a strong dose of recollection when tomorrow comes.
One thing pretty dependable is that days like that don't come two in a row.
But opportunity for my character to be stretched?...
...is probably just around the corner. ;-)

Stuff and Things

Spice of Life

1)   "Bella Peppers" and "Cal-girls"  will be missed when Bell Peppers and Cowgirls are discovered.

2)   The only thing I've found to dislike about snow is the amount of wet clothes, gloves, and hats
       it produces and which consume every toasty inch in front of my wood stove.
      (like how I said that - my wood stove.)

3)   Do you ever plan to sip something hot, but keep putting it off until...
      that diaper is changed, fire stoked, face wiped, chore delegated, ponytail brushed, shower taken,
      reading commenced, wet hair combed, bottle warmed, sippy cup filled, toast buttered, sandwich made,
      call returned, copy work assigned, story read, counter wiped, baby cuddled, water reheated...
      I do.
      It happens to me pretty much every day.

4)   I waffle between pulling my hair out, and chuckling when I see URGENT spelled correctly on one line,
      then not being able to decipher it on the next.  ERJNT.
      Supposedly it is not to late for a ten year old to learn how to spell.
      It is not an "erjnt" matter at this time.

5)   However much I miss my man when he travels, I love to make meatloaf and butternut squash
      when he's gone. 
      I love it even more that 6 other people enjoy eating it with me.
      I love it best when he's back home, and I still have leftover meatloaf for my lunch!

6)   I hope the little guy never outgrows:
     "You're Lel-come"
     "I love you mom"
      and

     "You're my precious mommy"  He really-truly said that to me.


7)   It would appear that 7-9 hours of sleep is now a reality in my life.  I don't believe in jinxes, so I won't
      knock on wood.  However, I sure hope my body gets used to sleep again because right now it is
      not happy Bob. Not happy.  It's been running on fumes long enough to think it needs a few months worth
      of 9 hour nights before it catches up.
      I'm working on that.

8)  Quiet is good company.
      So is a house-rattling stampede and riotous laughter.
      Particularly if enjoyed after schoolwork and chores, and especially when followed by quiet.

9)   There used to be days in which morning hours dragged on.
      Then there were days in which evening hours dragged on.
      Now there are no hours that drag.  Not a one.
      How come nap hours never drag on?

10)  If the hours don't drag on
       and there's riotous laughter coming from the stampede upstairs
       and my tiredness means I'm actually getting more sleep...
       If my children are learning, and their learning makes me chuckle
       and the wet clothes mean they get out in the snow...
       If meatloaf is for dinner, and if Bryce thinks I am precious
       if coffee, tea, or chocolate is had for sipping - hot or cold...
       Then I'll relish Bella Peppers, Cal-girls, chubby babies,
       glowing wood stove, books for reading, silly spelling,
       and my handsome Honey who comes home.

*****************************************************

  









And that's what putters along in my brain after all the bugletts have gone to bed. 

Today there were moments better forgotten as well, but they aren't worth the mention.
Besides, I like to remember my life like this - it's pretty wonderful!

Hunting for Freedom

Somewhere between Breakfast and the baby's first diaper change, I lost it.
I couldn't find the freedom I know is mine, and I was completely taken off guard
when it disappeared.  Where to?  I don't know.
All I know is I was sitting on the back porch watching my small ones play.
There was an enamel basin filled two inches with cool water.  Cups of various color and size
were being dipped in, poured out, and my sad wilted tomatoes were soaking up a much longed-for drink.
The morning sun was shining straight down - no shadows peeking out anywhere.  No shade.
I was content with my lot, dreaming of little tweaks here and there which would improve my
humble program.  My "what I am trying to accomplish with my Bugletts" program.
You know.  Life.

In the freshness of morning; only happy sounds could be heard and I commenced thinking about
next years school.  Actually, school slash learning is a slowly plodding mule we've been riding all summer.
 We're not moving very fast, but depend on us getting there - to our destination - eventually.
 Some days I distribute more busy work, others less, and most all the days holding an element of "real life"
 which offers an education I couldn't produce any other way.
The rocket, sail ship, or  log cabin project for example.
Spring and summer are the most fruitful time for our Nature Journals, and even though our garden is
completely overgrown with volunteers and weeds, many of the wild flowers are still going strong in August.
Last years vegetable plot is this year, a bed of daisies - literally.  Frogs, moths, beetles, berries, flowers,
frogs, dead mice and voles (thanks to Fred the cat), grasshoppers, various rocks, and even more frogs
than I can count have passed before my appreciating eyes this Summer.
Susanna is finger crocheting, and braiding my hair.
Olivia is learning to read, and fixing breakfast for two younger siblings.
Clayton was inspired to start a worm farm to supply his fishing habit.
Zachary has entered the ranks of voracious readers; Tom Swift mysteries being right at the top.
And I?  I am all of a sudden feeling petrified about "Next Year's School..." (spoken here in hushed tones).

As I said, I was caught off guard between Breakfast and the baby's first diaper change of the day.
Somewhere in the interim, when I was unprepared for the blow, I took in 20 minutes of my friend's school plan
(which probably took her hours and day,s if not weeks to perfect) and my school plan
lost it's shine.
My dreams of pleasant improvements upon what already works for my tribe,
became a mad grasp at all the things I should do, must do, need to do...
you know, those things that "other" people are doing.  And doing successfully, I might add.
No longer was it fun.  No how.  It turned to business and nothing but.
And in a 20-minute instant, I lost my freedom.
Freedom to be me. To do what works for me. To do what works for our family.  To dream.

I don't understand it, but it seems to be a law of nature, that when considering the methods
that are effective for someone else, I feel obligated to use that exact same program.
Instead of gaining inspiration, I seem to accumulate guilt like it's going out of style.
Not exactly motivating.
In fact, it is actually very much a burden, and an unnecessary one at that!

So I looked and looked for that misplaced freedom.  It wasn't in the Biology book.  It wasn't in the
new math manipulative's.  It wasn't in the proposed music lessons.  It wasn't in that friend's fancy Excel charts.

After I changed the baby's diaper I had quite a time recovering from my self-imposed illness.
It wasn't until afternoon that I found a piece of what I was hunting for.  In my cold mocha, chocolaty
and caffeinated I found some pep.  The possibilities started looking plausible.
In a short chat with another girlfriend, my wise friend asked me "...so what's most important?..." 
THAT'S where I reclaimed my freedom.  I'd forgotten not only to ask myself that question, but I'd also lost sight of what is important.

I believe that what's most important will be different for each person/family/teacher/momma
and that I have to determine it based on larger farther-reaching goals I want to accomplish.
But PHEW!  What a relief to remember that I have a unique family, in a unique situation,
living under unique circumstances, trying to meet our own unique goals!  What is important?
I need to sit and really evaluate the question, but I think I know.  At least I think I can answer that for
myself in this season; and with that I can decide what mode of transportation moves our family to it's
unique destination.
I'll try to wrap my mind around this query over a few more mocha's,  but who knows?
Maybe that slowly plodding mule is just the thing:-)

Outwitting future regrets

"You have a beautiful family" he said turning all the way around in his seat to see us better.

We ate our deli sandwiches in a small corner of the store
completely absorbed in keeping 8 servings of turkey and tomato
from slipping out from between 16 halves of French Roll.
 
I adjusted Aloria nursing under a blanket in crook of my arm - the arm not occupied with my own lunch.

The dad of our family snatched a large bite while juggling between  two toddlers:
A bite for you.
A bite for her.
A bite for me.
a bite for you.
a bite for her.
a bite for me.

The performance was executed with the grace and ease of a trapeze artist.

He was the one working hard today, that man o' mine.


"Clay get me a napkin please."
"Zack fill these cups with water."
"Have a piece of chicken Sue?"
"Olie chew with your mouth closed."
"One more bite of potato?"
"Did you finish your sandwich?"
"How many have you had?"
"Please wipe your mouth.  And forehead.  And not with your sleeve... please."

Then there were the cookies.  The crowning glory to dinner-on-the-run with dad.
Pinwheels.  Chocolate covered marshmallows and crumbs.  At least that's a lot of what's left
when the frenzy is over.  Crumbs.  And chocolate covered fingers.
Even when I'm sitting right there, I'm never quite sure how chocolate ends up on the forehead?

I had to admit though, we were having a nice time and it was pretty peaceful.
For a circus.
And entertaining, I had to give the old gentleman that!
It was as complete a show as you could hope to have
without being charged admission.

He had come to that cozy deli in the corner for a bit of supper while his wife shopped for groceries
but he got his fill and then some.
I smiled to myself


"Yep..." he said.

"...it was the biggest mistake I ever made, 
not having more."

It All Started... (the story of Aloria Mercy's arrival)

It all started on the first sunny day of our slow-to-come Spring.
It took me some time to dig out the "mud season" clothes and help all the little ones
into their shoes, jackets, hats...
Then I found a spot in the sun to watch from and to sip frothy chocolate from my red mug.

Over a largely rounded belly I watched as the kids, all dressed in varying pieces of camouflage,
scurried into the woods armed with buckets and shovels.
"We're prospecting for worms!"  Susanna tells me.
And they were.
Imagine if you will, six-gallon buckets full of dirt and a mother lode of worms.
It was impressive.  And entertaining too!
There was much talk of Summer time fishing, while Bryce in his last day as baby
scouted for sticks and bugs...

 ...and talked Tractor with Daddy.

Carolina had an ambition to climb a tree.
This was as far as she ever got,
but that's okay.  I think that watching her made my hot chocolate taste even better!

One of my favorite things to see from that sunny spot was this precious man
meeting my needs in such a gracious, tangible way.

Here he builds my co-sleeper (a crib to set up next to our bed) and tells me when I thank him:
"I have little choice when I start getting bashed on the blog!"


































*Sigh*
He loves me ;-)

I think he has reverence for the good opinion of all you - O' friends of mine - who know the
joys, pains, and hearts desires of a mother.  So be complimented, and I thank you too
for contributing to the timely arrival of my coveted co-sleeper :-)

Then there were little people who getting into the spirit of things,
built a table and bench...

It was a VERY productive day - for every one!

********************************************************************

A week and a half ago I predicted having this baby on Saturday night, the eve of Easter Sunday
(which is April 24th this year - my due date being April 26th)
because I think babies like to double up on special dates.
Remember Bryce was born on our 12th wedding anniversary?  A Saturday night labor nonetheless.

I thought I'd better make the special Easter dinner preparations ahead... just in case.
So after soaking in the sun  for a sufficient spell, and sipping the last from my red mug
I made jello, and hard boiled eggs for the Clayton-requested deviled eggs.
Carolina helped me mix up the egg yolk filling, and there was no indication of not being able
to complete the rest the next day.

It's amazing though, how quickly things can go from this "my baby":

to this the newest edition of "my baby":

Now I will recount a few details of the hours between making jello and smooching on these chubby cheeks
but first I warn you, that this is for the posterity of our blogging journal
(which I hope to one day have made into a book).

If you will feel a strong desire to throw tomatoes at me or boo me out of the house where labor horror stories are told
because you shortly find I went into labor at 9:00pm on Saturday, and was holding my darling three and a half hours later... 
you've read far enough-and-thank-you-for-visiting this post. Come back next week :-)

*******************************************

For those who look for reasons to rejoice, and for those who love a story that gives hope...
carry on.

Although I had been having more frequent Braxton Hicks contractions during the early evening hours,
they were not abnormal for me.
It wasn't until 9pm when I felt that first "real" contraction that I knew it was time to buckle up for the ride.

(Up 'till that point, I was still hoping to be one of that minority who goes through an entire
labor and birth pain-free.  Haven't you heard those stories?  One can dream anyways.)


AJ called Uncle Char and had him come pick up the kiddos for a slumber party with the cousins
so I didn't have a deadline to accomplish my work by
(morning light and the pitter-pat of little feet, in this case).

With the Bugletts packed off AJ called the midwives; and I posted briefly on my blog divulging my fears
for the upcoming unknown.

I asked the Lord to help me worship Him.
I held close the knowledge of His death and power over it; His resurrection and the fact that death to myself was bringing forth life.
I wanted to receive this work as a privilege and accept it with joy for His names sake.
And yet...
I was fearful.

I am not proud to say it, but it was very difficult not to wander into the future, to predict how long
I'd be fighting to relax through painful contractions.
To resist anticipating Transition - that place where there is no hope of backing out!


Alas...


I found my laboring groove, sat on my birthing stool, and heard the midwives arrive and set up.
My face was in a pillow as I leaned over the back of my chair.
I had large breaks in between contractions with time to relax and regroup. It was fairly peaceful.

Amazingly, my water broke at 12:05am.and after that I turned to the midwives and said
"Okay.  Another couple good...bad...hard...contractions to bring the baby down and I'll need 
to move to the bed on the floor to push baby out."

I am convinced that I was fully dilated when my water broke, even though I hadn't been checked
at any point prior to that.

It was at this time that I became excited!  I got my second wind and knew the end was near.

It went just as I had predicted to the midwives.
12:10am I moved to a reclining position,
a couple pushes and a head;
A lusty cry.
Another couple pushes

and then a baby.
12:20 am AJ caught her beautifully -
he announced with a laugh "We have another GIRL!"

I was just so relieved. SO relieved. SO thankful, so grateful and so thrilled to be holding that wet
slippery, vernix-covered little girly, who soon quieted once she was handed up to me.
I didn't hear an unhappy squeak out of her the rest of the night and she latched on beautifully
shortly after her cord was cut.

To be completely honest (and humble here), I could not BELIEVE it went that quickly without
being a furious labor.  I mean... I STILL can't believe it.

I really didn't think we could top Bryce's labor and delivery, and then... O' marvel of marvels,
to see this baby for the first time - we hadn't any ultrasounds this pregnancy - and realize that
everything I saw appeared perfectly formed and health-filled.

To realize that the Lord God had blessed me above my wildest hopes in the mercy of His grace!
His unmerited favor has been great upon me and AJ.
We were confident even before-hand that He would faithfully glorify Himself in whatever form
our labor, our child, our story... took.
I just did not expect that glory to be in such a manner that would make our lives so filled
with ease and uninhibited joy once again!

So... a couple hours sleep for my Fella, and I lay sleepless beside him, Aloria nestled into the crook
of my arm - close enough to my face that I could bury my nose in her hair.
Breathing in that sweet new-baby-smell I waited for the morning light
and watched the first rays of sun touch our south hill treetops, then break over the landscape little by little
proclaiming the resurrection of our Lord!
Proclaiming new life FOR us, and proclaiming our own new life.  Glorious! 
That calm spring sunshine spoke all the volumes in my heart without me ever saying a word..

And that is the story - our story of how Aloria Mercy came to join this clan -
short, sweet, and with a happy ending;
which actually, is only the beginning of other wonders to be opened to us as we watch God
write the rest of our Aloria's story.
We are confident we will watch Him weave into that account
many many evidences of His wonderful Majesty and grace!

My heart wells up with Hallelujahs!  Thank you LORD, for your mercies.  I am in awe.

*******************************************************

One more down!

I finished Bryce's Christmas stocking BEFORE new baby's arrival!
Truly - this is a noteworthy accomplishment.  I started it soon after he was born
a year and a half ago and barely completed Carolina's in time for last Christmas:-}

When I started this tradition I knew I'd want to make a stocking for each of my children,
but it's getting harder to keep up and honestly, I'm not too inspired to start another right away!

If the next one goes anything like this last one though...
I have another 18 months before I begin to fret.

Serenity

I posted this picture just so I could look at a clean floor for longer than five minutes.  HA!

Actually I thought you might enjoy seeing how I hang the Bugletts current artwork.
I've really enjoyed having a designated place to enjoy their best pieces.  Plus I just love the
burst of color they add to my wall (and life!).

I have a box which holds all the rest of their daily artwork and unfinished drawings
(the ones that have to be put away because it's time to set the table for dinner)
but when that gets filled up (usually every several months), I sort through and collect all my
favorites, making sure to name and date, then punch holes in them for a three ring binder.
(psssst... the rest get thrown away - I know, *gasp*)

The children really enjoy perusing that binder/s every year or so and looking at their great
creations from years past!
It works for me today, so that's how I do it :-)

Aaaaand She's OFF!

Susanna has aced the "Teach Your Child To Read in 100 Easy Lessons"
That means the book is all Olivia's!
She's been waiting for quite a while now, and because I didn't let her start
while Sue was still working through it, she resorted to teaching herself what she could.
"Mom, how do you spell...?"

Strangely, now that we have officially started the book together I find
the girl is bored out of her mind!
Doesn't take kindly to all the repetitive rhyming and saying words slowwwwly and fast.
It's not a game.
It's not fun.
She's heard it all before when Sue did it.
And I am going to kill reading to make her jump through all the hoops
just because that's the program.

Today I decided to make that book work for ME instead.
I let Olivia skip all the exercises and just say the sounds and a few words
until we got to a list of words and THAT made her little heart go pitter-pat!
I especially enjoyed how she wanted to give me a sentence for each word she read:

"SEED... I have a seed I am going to plant!"

and

"SEE... I can see it and YOU can't!  That's bragging, isn't it mom?"

We made it to the first "story" with accompanying picture in lesson 13
SEE ME EAT
and that just tickled her SO much.  Perhaps now we can slow back down
to the books intended pace.  But if not, that's okay.
That book has been a super resource for me, but as with any tool we use in
helping our children to learn new things we must not forget that we are trying
to LEARN something, not complete a checklist.
So... whatever you use, don't be a slave to it.  make it work for YOU!

Project "Quilt for Lydia" complete!

Thought you might enjoy seeing what my sis (my brother's wife) and I
made for my sister and her baby girl.
Hannah designed and appliqued all the beautiful Poppy's and I'm the one
who took forever to finish the quilt.
I think it was Linda who asked some weeks ago "what's that you're working on?"
in this post.
Well here it is!

I think Lydi-Bug likes it :-)

And wouldn't you say there is a slight resemblance between me and my sister Molly
in that top picture?

Melt my Heart

I always thought a BIG brother would be nice.

Now I understand why :-)

THIS Moment

There is something on my heart which I must muse about here.

I have written before about how all we have is now.
Now is the moment we are living in.
Not in yesterdays memories, or tomorrows cherished plans.
It is a point I am passionate about.
Why? 
Because I think we are prone to dream up wondrous feats of service
that we offer to the Lord someday far out in the land of "when..."  and "if..."
Is there anything wrong with making preparation for future exploits?
I think not. Rather I am concerned because I notice how fixated we can become
on that thing we are going to do for the Lord (which will make us feel fulfilled and valuable),
instead of choosing to claim the moment we are in for His glory.

It is a faulty notion that there are rungs on a Christian ladder; and here's what that might look like:
Somewhere near the bottom of the ladder is the rung where the common laborer
resides, working in a normal job making an average wage and coming home to family in the evenings,
participating in church activities during the week.
Closer to to the top is the church Youth worker in a position of leadership in the church organization.
Above him is an Elder because he actually has authority (right?),
and higher still is Pastor.
If you want to be a really marvelous Christian, go to a foreign country and be a missionary.
That's about as high as you can get on that fictitious Christian ladder.

I say this tongue in cheek, but even if we'd SAY we don't believe that ladder exists,
and that being a janitor or a mom staying home to raise children is as worthy as being a foreign missionary...
we don't actually believe it.
If I tell you that wiping a poopy bottom is as much a noble act of service as say,
delivering medical supplies to war torn countries,
you are not likely to reconcile that to your actual feelings on the subject.

Please don't misunderstand me.
I don't mean that those serving the Lord in foreign places; who lack family, comfort, and safety
(amongst many other tangible and lesser-seen things)
are not doing a precious thing.
What I mean to say, is that serving the Lord; worshiping Him is not exclusive
to the act of doing "great" things, but that perhaps our definition of "great" things
needs a broader perspective.  A perspective that realizes Jesus served His friends
...and enemies.
And that He healed people who didn't even thank Him. 
Or care about Him at all.
Just because we read about His earthly journey, and exploits of  those men who loved Him
in a book that is the most widely published of all time,
doesn't mean that they seemed very glorious 
at the time those guys were doing them!

So what am I driving at?

I may make great plans to do great things one great day,
but in the mean time, I have right now.
And that's all I have really.
Let me tell you that I mostly see a lot of weakness and not so much potential
in my everyday life.  Not only do I have chores, but I have attitudes that need to be
adjusted - MY attitudes.

I would prefer to imagine how I will take captive every thought to the glory of Christ
when I am imprisoned  in a single cement block cell 
eating gruel once a day.

It could happen.

But it's definitely more romantic to dream up that scenario,
than to actually take my 3 year-old to the potty,
help her with her pants,
set her up on the pot,
wait patiently until she is through,
then help procure the right amount of toilet paper,
wipe her bottom,
pull up those little pants...........

You get the picture.

But that, friends, is a bona fide real opportunity to serve the Lord God;
to capture my heart in that moment
and worship Him.

Just think of this:
Only in this brief journey as a pilgrim on earth, looking forward to my true home
do I have the chance to worship God while doing something I DON'T want to do.
One day I will worship God every day of eternity with joyful abandon and blissful ease
(and desire!) when I am at home with Him in Heaven.
But... in that day God will never give me a task that I DON'T want to do.
That means that only in this earthly life can I offer my worship as a gift to Him
in a time when it's hard to do it.

Here's the crux.
This can be practiced as well from
the Wintry, frozen pipe, no-shower-in-a-week, husband-out-of-town-again,
weepy, pregnant, very inadequate, fixing-one-more-sandwich, running-out-of-steam-before-the-mornings-end Far North of Idaho...
as it can be practiced by that precious servant, dusty and tired, holding a lice-infested baby
pouring out heart and soul; offering hope to a lost and dying people in South Africa.

If ever my focus is placed on the great thing I can do for God
instead of worshiping Him because of the Great Thing He did for me...

it won't matter how great other people think I am.
In that case, all my greatest efforts will be as wood, hay, and stubble,
and weren't intended for the Lord's benefit anyway.

*******************************

So what does this mean for me?
I KNOW I am unworthy of God's gift of salvation,
and I know I am not entitled to the many numerous blessings He's poured out on me.
I am ever-so-slowly learning to look for the Hand of God at work in my
"average"person's life, and to worship Him in the midst of my weakness.

I would like to know how you see the Hand of God in your daily moments;
and what that looks like practically in your life.
Have you ever thought about the fact that doing things we don't want to do, but with a
willing heart can be an act of worship to the Lord?
A little feedback could be very edifying for all the ladies reading comments if you feel inclined..

Take heart!

. . . “My grace is sufficient for you,
for My power is made perfect in weakness.”
Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses,
so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
II Corinthians 12:9

THE most adorable face EVER!

I am EXTREMELY biased, of course, but STILL!!!!!
Just LOOK at those little pearly white teeth *swoon*

Okay, I know that was an inexcusable amount of capitals, but do you know what I got today?
A vacation.
A retreat.
All completely unexpected and unaccounted for!

It started with 10 hours sleep (waking only once to roll over - does that count for waking?)
Followed by two girls and a baby boy joining me in bed for a wee bit.
Then a Chocolate Chip/Walnut Pancake breakfast made and served by Zachary (!)
Here's the thing:  5 children decided to play Lego's upstairs for several hours and
during that time I stayed in my Pajamas;
cuddled number 6 and smothered him in kisses;
read and soaked in every little piece of Romans 9-12...

See why it was such a blissful day?

Oh!
I forgot the Red Mug!  Full of mocha and topped with whipped cream.  Ahhh..........
After lunch, kiddos paraded up to play at outside at Uncle's,
and babies napped.
Me?   I stayed in my pajamas!  And I worked on Bryce-boy's Christmas stocking.
I prepared Math drills (stapled and hole-punched) for the next couple months.
I had the privilege to talk with my darling girl-friend UNINTERRUPTED!
Made dinner in the quiet stillness.

You know?  I think it was the pajamas and quiet that made it feel like a holiday.
Quiet is so scarce - I can't ever quite hear myself think, let alone read and digest what I just read!

That leads me to another train of thoughts that I'd like to post.
Stay tuned and perhaps I'll remember past tonight.
If we're lucky.

For now I reel from the strangeness of all the quiet I gorged on today.
I feel like a Quiet Glutton! HA!
Well.  All good things have to come to an end, and the quiet left some hours ago
with the return of something even better...

My children.

I am, among women,
rich indeed!

Creative Bible Time... and Snow.

I am still learning flexibility.
(Big shock, I know.)
I find it quite easy to miss unique and valuable learning opportunities
for adhering rigidly to my regularly scheduled program.
(Not that I'm even very good at that. HA!)

Not too long ago the Bugletts and I started a Bible time-line of sorts.
I lost momentum on keeping dates this time around,
but we decided to keep going with many of the major events
in the order they appear in the Bible.

We have a daily Bible reading time, but recently we've adjusted that to
include discussing Bible events and peoples as we are already familiar with them.
Talking about the bigger picture rather than honing in on one specific chapter in King Davids life.
Also taking time to look at God's character as displayed in His choice of records.
The Bible truly is His great story and a marvelous way to know HIM!

For our time-line, I hand a piece of card stock to each kiddio,
and assign a person or event for each child to draw while I tell them the story
using my Bible as reference.

Guess what this is a picture of?

And THIS is the Israelites camped in the wilderness - LOVE the creativity here!

Often we read the account and get caught up in reading reading reading!
 This has been a very fun and dynamic way to digest the Bible together.
I thought you might enjoy a peek:-)


As for the flexibility part...
Today we woke to snow.
LOTS and lots of snow and still coming down!
The Bugs thought it looked like an outside kind of day
and had big plans for their construction projects.
So I sent them out immediately after Bible, to come in for afternoon school instead.

Here's some of the pics from that venture!