Knee-Deep In Munchkin Land

Chapter 5

2012-01-27T12:58:00.001-07:00

Aubrey hit the End button on the phone, thus ending her conversation with Brooke. She chewed on her lower lip, wondering if Thomas would be up for a trip to the university campus. Brooke mentioned that she would love a visit but didn’t feel like she could drive home because she had several papers to write and a few mid-term tests to study for. The thought of the two-hour drive appealed to Aubrey, not to mention the joy of an afternoon with her youngest girl. She hadn’t seen Brooke since Easter Sunday almost three weeks ago, and even though they’d had numerous phone conversations, it just wasn’t the same as sitting in each other’s company.

Aubrey bounded down the stairs and out the back door. She paused as the sunlight of early morning filtered through the trees lining her sidewalk. She breathed in the smell of early spring, the smell of rebirth and new growth; the smell of dirt and fresh air. Far off she could hear the sound of a mower going, apparently one of her neighbors felt the urge to dig their heels into spring too. She loved this time of year, the time when everything was eager for revival.

She continued along the brick path to the unattached garage that sat to the back and the side of their sprawling home. She knew that Thomas was tinkering around in the garage; Thomas enjoyed any morning that allowed him time with his tools. Unfortunately, mechanics was not one of his strong suits. While he enjoyed the look and feel of his tools, they were rarely put to use. Often Rob or Kyle would come over to lend a “helping hand” only to take over and complete the repairs themselves. It was a familial joke that Thomas wouldn’t be able to find the gas tank if it wasn’t clearly marked in the owner’s manual, but it never stopped him from trying.

Aubrey opened the garage door and came up short at the sight of the beloved convertible with its hood opened. She stepped to the side of the car to see Thomas hovered over the engine, wrenches and screwdrivers lying helter-skelter on the engine. “Tommy,” she asked cautiously. “What are you doing?” He lifted his head and flashed a boyish smile; dirt or grease smeared across his cheek and forehead. She chuckled; her husband was the very image of a young boy playing with his toys.

“You mentioned that it was making a funny knocking noise last week, so I thought I’d check it out.” He grinned impishly; it was the grin that always managed to keep him out of trouble. Aubrey groaned inwardly as she took in the sight of disconnected parts and hoses; there was no chance she’d be able to take the convertible today.

“And did you find the problem?” she asked, knowing full well that Thomas could take things apart but rarely put them back together.

He shook his head slowly, and with all seriousness said, “No, but I’m sure it’s this part right here, behind the engine block.” He urged Aubrey closer, wanting to show off his knowledge of the various car parts. She nodded her head as he rambled on, wondering who she was going to have to call this time to help fix the mess that Thomas had made. She loved her husband but fixing cars was definitely not one of his strong suits.

As he wound down from his explanations, he reached for a towel sitting on the bench behind Aubrey. Once his hands were cleans, he leaned against the hood of the car and pulled her into his arms until she was resting comfortably against his hips. He nuzzled the skin behind her ear, “What’s up Aubrey-girl? What’s the plan for today?”

She snuggled in closer, content to stay in his arms a while longer. “I just got off the phone with Brooke,” she answered.

Thomas lifted an eyebrow, “And…”

“And we thought it would be fun for me to run up there for the afternoon,” she said. “Want to come?”

He laughed the deep, rumbling laugh of a man who knew that the afternoon would likely involve shopping, girl talk, and giggles, an afternoon that would probably be a little stilted if Dad came along. “No thanks, love.” He gestured to the car with its various parts spilling out over the top. “I have plenty to do here, but go, have a wonderful time.”

She smiled in response; it was the answer she’d expected from the moment she’d walked into the garage. She bumped his hips with her own, “All right then, I’m outta here.” She pulled his head down for a passionate, theatrical kiss and ended it with a smack. When she would have pulled out of his arms to make her way to the Honda, Thomas tightened his grip. She looked up in surprise, a little alarmed at the serious look on his face.

Thomas couldn’t explain it, something within him was refusing to let go. Suddenly everything within his body was hesitant about letting her drive the two hours to see Brooke. When he felt her tense at his uncertainty, he pulled her even closer. And there they stood for about five minutes, locked in a tight embrace, her head cupped against his chest, the smell of her perfume drifting up and clouding his senses. He relished each curve that fit so perfectly against his own hard angles; he cherished each contented sigh as she allowed herself to relax against him. And finally, after all his senses had been filled, he released her with a kiss to her temple.

Aubrey flashed him a grin, tossed the keys in the air, and made her way to the sedan. She climbed in and started the car; she adjusted the mirrors and found her sunglasses; she fiddled with the radio, searching for the light-rock station she loved; and blew Thomas a kiss as she made her way out of the driveway. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stood up, he was uneasy with his wife making the trip but he couldn’t understand why. He wanted to run after her, to beg her to stay with him for the day. Unused to these feelings, he shook them off, returned to the garage, and reassured himself that they’d go on a date when she returned.

-----------------------------------------------

She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel in tempo with the Celine Dion song that was blaring from the radio. She waited at the red light, willing it to turn green. She wondered how Thomas was going to put the convertible back together and decided to call Jessica and see if Rob could stop by and help him. She rummaged through her big, black purse, scattering contents all over the passenger seat. She found two different colored lipsticks, a napkin used for blotting, several earrings, none of which made a complete pair, and finally found the small cell phone. She pressed 3 just as the light turned green; she waited for Jessica to answer while trying to figure out how to pass the slow-going semi in front of her.

Jessica answered on the third ring; Aubrey could hear the kids playing in the background and the sound brought a smile to her face. “Hello?” Jessica answered in a tired voice.

“Oh, Jessie, honey, you sound terrible!” Aubrey tried to keep her tone light and carefree, but a bit of worry managed to sneak its way into her voice.

Jessica sighed an audibly deep sigh, the sigh of a woman who was both physically and emotionally exhausted. “Thanks,” she answered sarcastically. She cringed, sarcasm was coming too easily nowadays; it seemed to be the only way she could communicate with anyone. “Things are a little crazy around here; I can’t find anything in these packed boxes, not to mention it’s so chaotic that I can barely think!”

Aubrey clucked her tongue, remembering the trying and tiring times of parenting toddlers and trying to maintain a household as though they were yesterday. “Hang in there, honey!” she encouraged. “How did the showing go yesterday?”

“We got an offer on the house but the couple wanted us to pay all closing costs, their down payment, and throw in the washer and dryer! We’ve counter-offered.” Jessica rubbed the bridge of her nose, remembering the knock-down, drag-out fight she and Rob had over the offer and whether or not they should take it. He felt that they should have taken it without any qualms; accusing her of sabotaging their move. She thought they should hold out for more and accused him of uprooting their family at any cost. The fight had ended with Rob yelling at her to do whatever she wanted and slamming the door shut on his way out to the garage.

Audrey tried to sound as positive as possible, even though her heart fell to the bottom of her stomach. She just couldn’t imagine living that far away from her grandbabies and eldest daughter. Please, Lord, give me your peace and strength during this change. “Well, that’s promising. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be moving with Rob, instead of waiting here.”

There was another deep sigh, “Yea, I guess its good news.” Just then the sound of breaking glass reverberated through the receivers.

“What was that?” Aubrey asked alarmingly. She swerved into the left lane; the traffic was finally starting to move forward.

“That,” Jessica explained, “was the sound of Wyatt knocking a lamp onto the wood floor.” Jessica was already holding the phone between her shoulder and ear and with her free hands was cleaning up the broken pieces of glass.

“Well, it sounds as though you’ve got your hands full, so I’ll hurry up. Do you think Rob would be willing to stop by our place this afternoon? Dad decided to open up the convertible and I fear it may never be back in once piece if Rob doesn’t get over there.” She heard the slight pause on Jessica’s end and hurried on, “Please Jess? I’d call Kyle but he and Abby are still in Mexico until Monday.”

“I don’t know Mom; we aren’t exactly talking to each other right now. In fact, to be honest, I don’t have a clue what his plans are for the day.”

“Oh Jessie,” Aubrey breathed, her heart sinking at the news that they were still struggling. “Things aren’t getting better, huh? Is there anything your father and I can do?”

In a barely audible whisper, Jessica responded, “Pray.” She paused, feeling the ache deep within her soul. She continued, “For the first time in our marriage, I see cracks and I don’t know how to fix them.”

Aubrey tapped on her horn as a driver cut her off to pass the same semi; she turned her attention back to Jessica. “Jessica, get out my letter. Please. I’m sure there’s advice in there you can use, scriptures to rely on. Reread it, pray on it, and listen to God.”

Jessica knew an order when she heard one, “Yes ma’am.” Just then, she heard the garage door open and knew that Rob had returned home, from wherever he had been. “Well, Mom, Rob’s home now and I’ll make sure he gets over to help Dad.”

“Thanks honey, tell Rob we owe him a dinner if he can undo whatever your father did.” The stop-and-go traffic was driving Aubrey a little crazy; she didn’t mind going slow as long as it remained consistent. Again the traffic picked up and the Honda responded to the pressure on the gas. “Well, I’d better go; I need to concentrate on driving. At this rate, I won’t get to Brooke’s until after lunch.”

Jessica laughed and longingly wished for the days when her mother would come visit her at school. In moments like these, those days seemed so carefree and easy. “Have fun! Give Brooke a kiss from me.” And the two hung up.

The station was now playing Jack Johnson and Aubrey sang along with the mellow voice, trying to relish her alone time in the car. Her foot was itching to go faster, the slow pace killing her, but she knew that once they passed this last exit, traffic would be sparse enough to allow Aubrey the speed she craved.

Just then, Aubrey looked up as she noticed the semi starting to come into her lane. She could see the blinking lights on the side of the semi out of the corner of her eye, further proof that the driver intended to switch lanes. She could hear horns blasting behind her and a quick glance in the rearview mirror showed the horror on the other drivers’ faces. As Aubrey laid on her own horn, she sped up, trying desperately to get out of the way. She watched in dismay as the semi crept closer and closer to her car. The fear rose in her throat, almost choking her. A million thoughts and memories raced through her mind; facing Thomas on her wedding day, barely making his face through the cloud of the veil; the red, squalling face of each newborn daughter as they came out of her womb; the hope and optimism evident on each daughter’s face on their wedding day. Aubrey looked around her wildly, wondering where to go or what to do; racking her brain for any possible solution to avert the crash that was sure to happen. Seconds before impact Aubrey sent up one anguished plea, “Dear Father, no!”

The semi completed the lane change, bringing the inevitable collision. It tore off the top of the Honda and sent it end-over-end down the embankment, on the side of the highway. Other drivers watched in dismay as the car came to a rest on its hood, or what was left of the hood. Some of the other drivers on the highway pulled out cell phones and immediately dialed for help; others quickly pulled to the side of the road, anxious to assist in any way they could.

Once the crash had registered in his mind, the semi-driver shook in fear and regret as he pulled the semi to a stop. Hopping down from his seat, he ran back to where the Honda had been knocked off the road and the crowd that gathered there. He watched in disbelief as two men made their way down the embankment, trying to get to the wreckage as fast as possible. In the distance the sound of wailing sirens could be heard and grew louder with each passing second. Shaking uncontrollably, the driver sank to his knees. He’d never been a praying man but he prayed now, hoping against hope that the other driver would show some kind of life, some indication that they were all right. He buried his face in his hands and wept like a baby.

Its tricky being a Christian these days.

2012-01-24T17:25:00.001-07:00

I don’t have answers for everything. There are so many issues facing us as individual Christians and the Christian church in this day and age, and I can’t say with 100% certainty that I KNOW what God’s stance would be on every issue. Some are crystal clear, some are murky. I just don’t know.

But I do know these things to be true:

The Bible is the living, breathing Word of God. It is God-breathed, Holy Spirit inspired, and His merciful gift to us.
That God is the same today, as He was yesterday, and will be tomorrow. The God of Abraham is the same God of today. He is unchanging.
And because of that, God, like His word, is unable to evolve. God IS Love. He is PERFECT Love. Therefore He is incapable of evolving into more love. There is no room for God to love us any more than He already does.
A lot of sins, including the very first sin, started because the question was asked. “Did God REALLY say that? Did He REALLY mean you can’t do that?” So when those questions start getting thrown around, I want to duck and cover.

Like I said, I don’t have all the answers. And seeing as how I’m human and God’s God, I’m not supposed to have all the answers. I do know that with my limited, finite vocabulary, I am unable to explain an infinite God, His ways, or interpret His laws.

“In Essentials, unity; in non-essentials, liberty; in all things, charity.”

credited to St. Augustine.

PS I’ll be back later tonight with my thoughts on Chapter 7 of the Sacred Marriage study.

I Miss This

2012-01-18T20:43:00.001-07:00

I miss this place… As my design load picks up, I’m finding less and less time to get on here and post about the goings-on in my life. Or my thoughts on various subjects. Or random pictures. And recipes. And new ideas.

If I could just find another hour or two in the day, I could tell you…

…about Reagan’s first night at Cubbies. And how Hudson came home and said he protected his baby sister by telling “all the boys not to touch Reagan’s p*e-pee.” (Oh sweet lord.)

…what I thought about the Revelation study we just finished.

…or how excited I am to start James.

…how weaning Ashlynn is going. I have no clue what I’m doing since all the others had weaned themselves by now. And I have a conference coming up next month. Oh, how my heart is breaking over the end of this phase in my life.

…the post I’m writing in my head on Christianity and how common it is to hear, and easier to live out, a watered down Gospel. But I’m fairly certain that post will never see the light of day because I’m too scared to actually write it.

…that I’ve fallen in love with a new-to-me blogger and I check my Google Reader at least 3-4 times a day to see if she’s written a new post.

…how much I’m enjoying Hudson right now and how he’s blooming in preschool. He’s writing his name, recognizing letters, sounding out words. And how I’m soaking in these moments as his one and his only girl while I can.

…that the average life of most of our wedding presents seems to be 10 years. Our everyday dishes finally whittled down to one set and were replaced. The electric can opener took a dive off our counter and now needs to be replaced.

…as I look back on these past ten years with Jon, I can see the curves, hills, and valleys that this journey has taken us on. I am so in love with that man, and thanking God that every day I get to do life with my best friend.

…that Devyn is looking older and maturing faster than I care to admit. As I watch, listen, and interact with her, I’m seeing hints of the person she’ll become. And what an amazing woman she is going to be.

I miss this place. A lot.

Eeek! What have I done?!

2012-01-12T10:48:00.001-07:00

If you follow me on Twitter, then you already know what I’m about to talk about. If not, then this is BRAND-NEW INFORMATION. (Sorry, borrowing Phoebe’s phrase from Friends. Is anyone else loving Friends on Nick at Night as much as I am?!)

Last year, I started hearing about this blogging conference called Blissdom. But since I had a newborn, it was pretty much out of the question. Not to mention that finances were tight. However, the idea has firmly implanted itself in my head.

When Blissdom started releasing more information this past fall, Jon and I started having some serious conversations about whether I should, or could, attend. And with utter shock, I pressed the purchase button for my Blissdom ticket last month.

This last week has been a flurry of finding airline tickets, child care (thank you family!), designing my business cards, anxiety and panic attacks, and deep breaths. I am going on a trip. Alone. B y myself. Knowing not a single person.

I have very mixed emotions about this trip. I have no desire to grow my personal blog. None. In fact, the very idea of becoming a bigger blogger makes me anxious. I have turned down every offer to earn any revenue off this blog, for the simple fact that this is MY space. My own personal story. Its never been a desire of mine to become bigger than the audience I’ve been given. Does that make any sense?

My business blog is another story. And that is why I’m going to Blissdom.

Blissdom has a number of business sessions that I’m really excited to sit in on. I can’t wait to hear what I’m doing right or wrong, or what I can do better. I think it’ll be an amazing networking opportunity. There are some other sessions that I’m interested in too.

And?

I’m SO excited to meet so many of the wonderful ladies I’ve met through Twitter and designing. Those that know me in real life, know that I’m a hugger. A BIG hugger. I’ve worked with a lot of these ladies for a long time, they’ve become special to me. And I can’t wait to hug them in person.

So there you have it. I’ll be in Nashville, Tennessee next month. And I’m both utterly terrified (what if they don’t like me) and extremely excited! Dear lord, what I have I gotten myself into?!

Sacred Marriage, Chapter 6

2012-01-10T23:28:00.003-07:00

This chapter was one of the most convicting chapters I’ve read so far. And so many highlighted sections that I’m having a hard time deciding where to focus this post.

I have a theory: Behind virtually every case of marital dissatisfaction lies unrepented sin. Couples don’t fall out of love, so much as they fall out of repentance.

He goes on to give an example of a married couple who have drifted far apart in their marriage. As he counsels them, the husband blames a lot of the distance on the fact that they have nothing in common anymore, that he is no longer challenged by her emotionally or intellectually. As the counselor digs deeper…

The truth is, he did value writing computer code over spending time with his family – but instead of admitting and reevaluating that attitude, he blamed everything on his wife.

This made me pause and look at my own marriage through these new lenses. Could it be true? Are my disappointments in our marriage, in Jon, because of an unconfessed sin in my own life? When I find myself getting annoyed at the things he does, or doesn’t do, what sin in my own life have I not recognized, confessed, and sought forgiveness for?

And just as that thought sunk in, and a list formulated in my head of things that needed confession, I was given another revelation.

…go to the next step and adopt the positive virtue that corresponds to the sin you are renouncing… If you’ve been quick to ridicule your husband, practice giving him encouragement and praise.

Wow. I instantly thought of our situation with Devyn, lying, and hot sauce. A hard lesson for her to learn, but hopefully a punishment that corresponded with the crime. How similar is this idea?! And a great idea that I most certainly want to implement. Not only am I to seek forgiveness, I’m to create a new positive behavior in its place.

The times that I am happiest and most fulfilled in my marriage are the times when I am intent on drawing meaning and fulfillment from becoming a better [wife] rather than demanding a “better” [husband].

Truer words were never spoken, I can attest that this has been true of my marriage. Now I’m off to do some soul-searching…

A Heart So Full

2012-01-08T01:18:00.001-07:00

This week has been hard. HARD. Hard in a way that makes you want to wave a white flag and surrender. I'm not sure to whom I'd have surrendered, but I just wanted to let someone know that I give up. Hard in a way that makes me want to hand in my name badge and keys, because I don't want to do this anymore.

Every time we thought someone was over the crud, it would come back. With a vengeance. Over these past 8+ days, I'd say we've spent 65-75% of it in the bathroom, either being sick ourselves or cleaning up after the kids.

Yesterday I took my frustration with this virus out on the kitchen floor. I even used bleach to mop it. And I never use bleach in the kitchen. I also Lyesoled (What? You didn't know it was a verb?) every single surface in our house. I don't know if it worked, but no one's gotten sick in the past 24 hours. (Knocking on wood!)

All of that to say, that while it was a hard week, one that I don't care to repeat any time soon, it made me realize how very much I love my life.

I was laying Ashlynn down for a nap, rocking back and forth on my heels, running my fingers through her growing curls, and feeling her body get more relaxed. I laid her down and stroked her face a little when a feeling of overwhelming joy and peace filled my body.

I stared down at this precious girl, an amazing gift, and realized she has never known another caretaker in her life. The realization almost brought me to my knees.

All of my others had been cared for by my sisters and mom. And while I'm eternally thankful for that and for them, none of the older three had ever known me as a sole provider. Something I'd mourned each time my maternity leave came to an end. But not Ashlynn. She has had me since day one of her life.

I whispered a thank you to my God and went back into the living room where a sick Reagan wanted to be held. And it was during that time that another thought came to me.

This was one of the first times that Jon and I hadn't argued who needed to call in sick the next day. There was no guilty feeling. No guilt in feeling like I should be at work, no guilt in wishing I was home. I was exactly where I was needed.

I worked outside the home the first six years I was a mom. It was hard, in a different way. But mostly, it was hard on my heart. I never knew how much I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom until they laid Devyn in my arms. The ache grew with the birth of each child. And I had no idea if that desire would ever be fulfilled. But He did. And I am all the more blessed because of it.

Yes, this week was hard. But I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am for it. I'm grateful for the little insights I was given because they sustained me this week. I've waited a long time to be home with my babies, and every so often, I need to be reminded of that.

She’s an old soul in a girl’s body.

2012-01-06T13:29:00.001-07:00

Devyn and I were discussing my tattoos today during lunch. (Yes, I have two tattoos. Someday I’ll tell you about them and why they mean so much to me!) She was asking questions and I was answering them as candidly as possible.

“I don’t want any tattoos when I get older,” she told me.

I smiled inside where she couldn’t see it. I’ve quickly learned that saying never as a child just comes back to bite you when you’re an adult.

“That’s fine, Devyn. You should never get a tattoo unless you’re 100% sure you want it forever.” I told her.

“Forever?! It doesn’t go away? Even when you’re old?” She was shocked.

“Never, ever,” I told her. “Even when I’m old, I’ll still have my tattoos.”

She paused for a minute.

“I don’t think you’re going to like them when you’re old.”

Bahahaha. Oh child, that one sentence explains so much about our relationship, and why I often wonder who is parenting whom.

A Woman of Few Words

2012-01-03T23:39:00.001-07:00

I'm a woman of few words these days. Mostly because of the virus that has taken up residence in our house. Its a bad one folks, straight from the devil himself.

Hoping to feel more like ourselves in a few days.

2011 Review, Wordless Style

2012-01-01T21:46:00.001-07:00

Its This Girl

2011-12-29T22:42:00.001-07:00

Its this girl…

The one who when I begged for five minutes to grab her socks and shoes from the McD*nald’s Play Place shoe corral, looked at me, smiled, darted out of my reach, and came out of the slide with a smug look on her face.

When I asked for the fifth time, she coyly walked up to her shoes, looked at me out of the corner of her eye and grabbed just one of her boots. “One, Mommy?” she asked. The look in her eyes belied her innocent expression, she knew I meant both.

When I said as much, she walked back and switched out the boots; leaving the 1st and bringing me the second. I burst out laughing.

Its this girl…

The one who has been grabbing any doll in sight, bringing them to me, and pointing at their chest. “Food for baby.” She smiles proudly every time I agree with her.

Imagine the humiliation when we were in public and she pointed at my chest, “Food for baby!” To complete strangers.

Its this girl…

The one who has had the ability to be potty trained for months, but not the incentive. And with this girl, incentive is everything.

We finally discovered her incentive the nights she cried to go to Cubbies with Hudson. We explained that only big girls who went in the big girl potty got to go Cubbies.

Two weeks ago, she put on underwear and hasn’t looked back. Two accidents and a three-day weekend is all she needed.

Did I mention she gave up her pacifier the same weekend? Cold turkey. This girl and her will astounds me.

Its this girl…

The one whose feisty spirit makes us both laugh and beat our heads against the wall at the same time. The one who loves building with blocks and playing princesses with Devyn. The one who repeats everything her older siblings say and do. The one who grabs her baby sister’s hand and pulls Ashlynn into her room to play. The one who proudly declares at least six times a day, “Mommy! I’m a big girl now!”

Its this girl that turned three years old today.

We love you, Reagan Jacqueline. You are such a gift to our family; you make us laugh and giggle. You are such a delight and we are honored to be your parents. We hope you had a special day, my Love! And PS, yes, you are such a big girl now.

Wordless Wednesday, Christmas Edition

2011-12-28T16:41:00.001-07:00

I think she's ignoring me.

2011-12-23T01:20:00.002-07:00

I've explained that its not time to open presents yet.

So she's either ignoring me. Or displaying willful disobedience.

I'm not sure which option is worse.

Regardless, I'm pretty sure it won't be the last time she thinks she's in charge.

From Our Family to Yours

2011-12-22T13:19:00.001-07:00

“Yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior.” Habakkuk 3:18

Life Lessons*

2011-12-13T21:18:00.001-07:00

It’s the kind of day where you want to beat your head against a brick wall, where even the deepest sigh can’t express the discouragement you feel.

I knew this parenting stuff would be hard, but up until this year, its mostly taken a physical toll. Newborn feedings, sick children, nights of steam showers, night terrors, energetic toddlers, dancing and running, and on and on. Pure exhaustion resulting from lack of sleep and then trying to keep up with the Littles throughout the day. These early years have been physically hard.

And now we’ve entered the emotionally and psychologically hard years. I’d mentioned in Devyn’s birthday post that I’d never really envisioned her past kindergarten. I’d never really given much thought to shaping and molding a person with character, faith, values, and integrity. You mean to tell me that these kinds of people don’t just appear?! That helping create this kind of person takes work?!

Well, we’re learning. And we’re learning fast.

Jon and I’ve always agreed that building character and integrity is far more important to us than academic, athletic, or any other kind of success. That we would rather have a child who’s recognized for their character than any other award. I don’t care if my child brings home a “C” as long as we knew their best effort was put forth. I WILL care if my child brings home a B+ and is capable of an A but didn’t try.

Character. Integrity. Strong words, deep meaning. Hard work.

Devyn is one of our easiest, there is little we have to get on her about, but she’s not perfect. And lately, Devyn has been struggling with lying. Its usually to avoid getting out of trouble (isn’t that the root of most lies) and we’ve tried everything in our bag of magic tricks to help her learn this valuable lesson in life. We’ve done spankings** and groundings. We’ve taken away privileges and toys. We’ve discussed and reasoned until we’re blue in the face. Nothing has worked.

And then today. The dreaded email from school.

Long story short. Devyn signed my initials to her reading log and when the teacher confronted her on it, she pretended to forget who had signed the initials. While I grew flustered at the email, embarrassed that my child had been caught red-handed, I was more concerned with the character issue that was at the root of this problem.

A quick call to Jon alerted him to the issue that was brewing at home. And then I turned to Twitter. Because I needed a new idea, some new arsenal for our bag of tricks. And boy did Twitter deliver. (Thank you, thank you, thank you!) Idea after idea rolled in, and within the hour I had a good idea of a sufficient punishment. And after discussing it with Jon, agreeing that this was worth the try, we called Devyn into our room.

The moment I asked to see her reading log, she knew. I could hear the whimper in her voice, the dread in her steps. And when she returned to our room, her eyes flooded with tears. We asked her if she knew what this was about, and she immediately started crying and apologizing simultaneously. And let me tell you, its hard to remain removed from the situation. That’s my baby who’s blubbering and apologizing over there. My baby girl who is obviously sorry, and scared, and embarrassed. One side begged to comfort and cuddle her, assuring her that it was all ok. But I managed to remain stoic, determined that she learn this lesson now. When the consequences aren’t so dire.

So we sat there. Her dad, Devyn, and I. We discussed the situation, we explained the consequences (both physical and emotional, ie, the lack of trust), and though she cried through most of it, we were resolute in our determination to see this through. She knew that she’d be required to read double the time that is usually required from her homework. She understood that she and I would be going to her teacher in the morning, before school started, so she could apologize to her in front of me. And once again, we discussed why this was such an important issue to God, Jon, and myself. I’m hoping it sticks this time.

And then we moved to the kitchen for the final part of her punishment.

As I poured a spoonful of T*basco sauce, I explained she didn’t need to swallow this. But she would be required to keep it in her mouth until we said she was done. “Devyn,” I explained. “I want you to remember this the next time you want to tell a lie. I want you to remember how this burned and how it tasted horrible. My hope is that telling lies will soon burn your mouth, your lips, like this sauce does. That this will make you think twice before the lie ever leaves your lips.”

I shot a look a Jon, twin expressions of dread filled both our eyes. Neither of us wanted to do this, neither of us wanted to be in this position. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But unfortunately, it had become necessary.

After a few seconds, I held a cup so she could spit it out. It hurt. It burned her mouth, her tongue, her lips. And as I sat with her on her bed while she cried, I told her that it was my hope that soon lies would taste just like this. She nodded and placed her head in my lap; spent from the long evening of discussions, tears, and discipline. And unfortunately, she’s even more embarrassed to have to talk to her teacher tomorrow morning.

I don’t know if it’ll work. I hope it does. I don’t want to do this again. But heaven knows I have three more children to go and a number of life lessons to teach. I’m continuing to pray for guidance, wisdom, and yes, other unconventional methods of discipline***. Anything that will teach these character issues to my Littles. Its exhausting work.

* I’m taking advantage of this last moments of talking about Devyn. She’s soon reaching an age where she’ll get a choice of what is shared on the blog, and I’ll have to respect that.

** Yes, we are spankers. And I’m more than willing to discuss that with anyone who can maintain a respectful conversation via private email. We also do timeouts, groundings, loss of privileges, and anything else that will teach a lesson. Each child has responded to different methods.

*** For instance, when a tantrum is thrown and stomping is involved, our Littles will stomp up and down our stairs for a set amount of time. We tell them to get their stomping out now. Its usually by the third or fourth time stomping upstairs that they’re saying they’re sorry.

Mish-Mash, Photo Edition

2011-12-11T22:20:00.001-07:00

I decided on a fun bird theme for Ashlynn’s invitation, sent it to Katie at Kuhl Cakes, told her to take creative license, and this is what she came up with. It was perfect!!

I especially loved the individual smash cake. So precious! I still can’t believe our baby turned one!

Devyn has been sitting right next to me as I attempt to finish up Ashlynn’s stocking, showing avid interest in it, and asking to help. So with her birthday money in hand, we went to Michael’s and came home with this sewing kit. She has been a busy girl, even sewing a skirt for Ashlynn.

There is nothing, NOTHING, more tender and heartwarming than seeing your baby girls grasp hands and dance to Christmas music together. They’ve recently become best friends with Reagan leading Ashlynn by the hand, shutting themselves in Reagan’s room, and playing together for long periods of time. It does this mother’s heart good.

Devyn was in the church musical this morning and it was a shock to the system to see our eldest up on stage, looking far older than we remember letting her be. In fact, as we shopped for the required apparel for the concert, Jon was visually upset that we’re now shopping in the older girl section of the store. He’s not ok with her growing up.

Its been fascinating to watch Hudson’s relationship with each sister develop. He very much idolizes Devyn, wanting to be big like her, do everything she does, and their relationship is developing into best friends. With Reagan, there’s very much a competitive element to their relationship. I’m sure it has something to do with being just 22 months apart. With these two, they’re either best friends or worst enemies. There’s little middle ground or gray area. In fact, I have no doubt that when Hudson forbids Reagan from dating any of his friends, she’ll arch an eyebrow, throw him a saucy look, and say, “Watch me.”

And with Ashlynn, the adoration is mutual. There is nothing that the other cannot do, or do wrong. Her face lights up the moment he steps into view, and she is the first person he asks for when I pick him up from school. It is precious indeed.

Keeping It Real, Grinch Style

2011-12-06T13:06:00.001-07:00

I have pictures and a post to write about our baby's first birthday party. Someday I'll get it up. Hopefully before December is over.

It was the most laidback, casual 1st birthday party we've ever had. It was just family, some snacks, and a gorgeous cake! It was perfect! Pictures soon, I promise.

I just finished working on the invitations for Reagan and Elliana's joint 3rd birthday party. The theme is ladybugs. I can't believe our girls are going to be 3 years old!

Let me recap. Four parties in 4 weeks, two of those parties within six days of each other. I'm going to admit, I can't help but wonder if God is playing a cruel joke on me. 3 birthdays within 6 weeks of each other, DURING the holiday season. Really?!

Now I'm trying to address 150 Christmas cards, finish Ashlynn's Christmas stocking, start shopping for Christmas gifts, do some holiday baking, and maintain my designing schedule. I think, no, I know, I bit off more than I can chew.

So somewhere between the twinkling lights and the birthday parties, I'm in desperate need of the holiday spirit.

This Year Has Been a Gift

2011-12-01T02:22:00.001-07:00

I never knew if I'd get to have this year again. I'd just been given the green light to quit my job and become a stay-at-home mom. With the loss of income, I resigned myself to the idea that we were done. I'd weighed the pros and cons, the idea of have having a 4th child versus staying home with the ones that we already had. The latter won out.

I spent a lot of time that week cuddling 15-month-old Reagan, wondering if I'd really savored and relished the last pregnancy, the last of our baby days. It was an extremely bittersweet time. Mourning, yet celebrating a dream come true at the same time.

Little did I know that God had already given me a gift. And two days after I'd put my notice in at work, two pink lines appeared. I'd been so caught up in our decision for me to be home, I was completely oblivious to the miracle taking place in my own body. And while I wish we could say we were nothing but happy, but I'd be lying. We'd lost income and gained another mouth to feed in a matter of days. The stress levels were high.

But as time passed, and we grew into the idea of becoming a family of six, I was able to see this baby for what it was.

A precious gift.

It was the first time I didn't work through a pregnancy. There was no stress trying to schedule doctor appointments in-between lunch breaks and meetings. There was no need to find a temporary substitute to train and fill my shoes during maternity leave. It was a gift of stopping, savoring, and committing to memory the moments that make a pregnancy. Even the last days of feeling swollen, huge, exhausted, and done. It was an experience unlike any pregnancy I'd had before.

It was a treasured gift.

During those first months of my babies' lives, my time off was always marred by the knowledge that I only had 12 short weeks. And then it was back to reality. Three babies. Three times I cried the week before it was time to go back to work.

But not this time. There was no sense that I was running a race against the clock. There was no dread as she turned another week older. It seemed as though with each milky smile, it eased the heartache of months of sitting and pumping in the bathroom. With each smile, coo, and nap, I forgot about the times I missed first steps, first words, so many firsts.

It was a redeeming gift.

This year hasn't been easy. I feel like I'm still figuring out the best stride for me as a stay-at-home mom. But this girl, this precious babe has smoothed some of the harder, sharper points of this year. She has brought so much delight and love into this family. She has fit in seamlessly, filling a piece of the puzzle we didn't even know was missing. Her silly and sweet ways help balance the strong-wills and have brought laughter in moments when we needed it the most.

She is the gift that we don't deserve, and now we can't imagine living without.

Happy birthday, our dear Ashlynn Rose. You are more precious to us than I could possibly put into words. Thank you for the light you bring with your smile, the affection you demonstrate with your head butts, and the giggles you instigate with your lopsided walk, the head shaking, and your dance moves. You are a treasure and joy, my love!

Wordless Wednesday

2011-11-30T01:36:00.001-07:00

Totally Worth It!

2011-11-28T23:45:00.001-07:00

Birthday cake done by Kuhl Cakes! Thank you so much, it was perfect!

With Gratitude

2011-11-24T01:38:00.001-07:00

Its Thanksgiving. And while I may have been celebrating Christmas for almost a month, this is truly one of my favorite holidays. A time to stop, reflect, cherish, give thanks, and, of course, eat. It seems that its the antithesis of the holiday coming up... appreciating what already is, instead of creating lists for what is wanted.

And reflecting, cherishing, and giving thanks is what I'm doing today. For the big and the small.

...for the toys that litter our living, that sit under the covers on our bed, that are tripped over in the middle of the night. Small reminders that we have Littles to enjoy them and the means to provide them.

...for the cabinets that need washing, dusting, and rearranging... for the fridge that still works despite constant opening and closing. Proof that food once filled them and tummies were content.

...for the sound of crying, fighting, and making up. For the opportunity to practice forgiveness and instill teachable moments.

...for noise, chaos, and running. Sounds that aren't heard when fevers are spiking and coughs are hacking. Healthy Littles equals noisy Littles.

...for parents that are unwavering in their support and love.

...for sisters that can pick up on the slightest nuances and be armed with Starbucks and a listening ear.

...for family, both immediate and extended. Whose idiosyncrasies and craziness can be annoying and cute at the same time.

...for a husband that continues to love me through bad decisions and bad attitudes; who's willing to offer grace quickly.

...for Littles who stretch me and teach me. For the fullness they bring to my life.

...for health, for love, for full cupboards, for friends, for fireplaces and blankets... For coffee and honey butter spread... For good music, dancing parties, and wrestling matches... For friends, old and new.

...for a Lord that offers a fresh start every morning. A Lord that is never satisfied with the status quo and will bring whatever lesson is needed to move me beyond myself. A Lord that promises to be anything I will ever need.

Have a blessed Thanksgiving!

Hearts 4 Hearts Dolls

2011-11-20T20:54:00.001-07:00

I mentioned that Devyn requested the Hearts 4 Hearts dolls for her birthday and I am so in love with these dolls that I felt they deserve their own post.

We were wandering the aisles of Walmart when Devyn first brought them to my attention. There stood the display of dolls and in an excited, run-on, long-winded sentence, Devyn told me about them.

As I looked over the individual dolls, the one thing that really stood out to me was the fact that they looked like Americ*n Girl dolls but didn’t have the pricey tag attached. Now don’t get me wrong, I love Americ*n Girls dolls as much as the next female. Heck, I devoured the books as a girl myself. But I’m not about to spend $100 on a doll at my girls’ ages right now and the $30 price tag of these Hearts 4 Hearts dolls was definitely more manageable.

I patted Devyn on the back, urging her along, but tucked the idea of these dolls away to explore further. And explore I did… Here’s a brief highlight of my favorite things about these dolls.

First, and foremost, I LOVE that a portion of the proceeds go to World Vision, a Christian organization that is much like Compassion who strives to help children in other countries. I LOVE that!
These dolls bear a strong message about confidence, education, and a desire to help their families. A message I’m consistently trying to instill in my own girls.
These dolls are little girl dolls. They are dressed like little girls. There’s no makeup, no questionable clothing, no unattainable body shape. Dolls that I have no qualms giving to my girls.
These dolls are well-made. Despite the smaller price tag, these are not thrown together or made with cheap materials. Well-made, strong, dolls.
I love that each doll comes from a different country and comes with a story of a girl in that country, and I’ve already read the books to Devyn. What a great way to expose our girls to new cultures.

Devyn received two Hearts 4 Hearts dolls for her birthday. She received Consuelo from us, Nahji from my parents, and an outfit for each doll from Jon’s dad. Devyn shared Nahji with Reagan last night and both girls fells asleep with a doll tucked under their arms. And it’s already been decided that we’re adding a Hearts 4 Hearts doll to Reagan’s Christmas list.

Consuelo - Capture the colorful warmth of Mexico with our Consuelo doll! Like all Hearts For Hearts Girls dolls, Consuelo stands 14 inches high and has a poseable, smooth vinyl body, and high-quality rooted hair for hours of doll play. Her hair is a waist-length fall of shining black and her eyes are deep brown with copper highlights.

Consuelo comes dressed in a ruffled, lace-trimmed turquoise skirt and a lime-green blouse with lively floral embroidery on the collar.

Accessories include: Silvery hoop earrings strung with bright beads, color-coordinated bangle bracelets, festive hot pink flower head band, bright pink shoes with silky ribbon ties, doll-sized hair comb with hair elastic, girl-sized H4HG power bracelet, beautiful mini storybook about Consuelo’s life.

Nahji - Experience a girl’s life in exotic India with our Nahji doll! Like all Hearts For Hearts Girls dolls, Nahji stands 14 inches high and has a poseable, smooth vinyl body, and high-quality rooted hair for hours of doll play. Her brown eyes gleam with amber glints and her hair is a sweeping fall of rich coffee brown.

Nahji comes dressed in a tunic of bright fuschia-colored crinkle cotton, trimmed in white appliqué, and lavender leggings with deep hems of embossed gold print.

Accessories include: Braided purple choker with pearl-like pendant, drop earrings of simulated pearl and emerald, removable beaded pearl headband, golden bangle bracelets, hand tattoo inspired by the henna mendhi of India, purple strap sandals, doll-sized hair comb with hair elastic, girl-sized H4HG power bracelet, beautiful mini storybook about Nahji’s life, jeweled nose piercing.

I haven’t been compensated in ANY way for this post. Its simply one mama’s opinion of a great product and one I can whole-heartedly give my support to. I’m quite excited to add to our collection of Hearts 4 Hearts dolls in the future, hoping they’ll add more dolls and the additional accessories they’ve promised on their site. And if you should decide to buy one for your little girl, I promise you won’t be disappointed!

This One’s a Game Changer

2011-11-19T23:16:00.001-07:00

I don't know why this birthday feels so different from the rest. But it does. Perhaps its the fact that she's in first grade now. Perhaps its just that seven sounds so old. Perhaps that she's finally "getting" reading or that she's excelling in math. Perhaps I never imagined her at this age... as an infant, toddler, preschooler, a kindergartener was easy, I never pictured the schoolgirl. Perhaps its that parenting has gotten infinitely more complex. I used to have all the answers, it was so very black and white. And now there's gray, and varying shades of gray at that. That's another post for another day.

Regardless, I'm not the only one feeling the difference this birthday. Jon showed up after plowing all night with flowers for the birthday girl. I was floored, overwhelmed that my husband did this of his own effort. And when I pushed him on the why, he responded that first grade seems like a good time to start this tradition. He wants to be the first man to give his daughters flowers. (Yes, my heart melted into a puddle on the floor and I fell madly in love with my man again.)

It touched my girl, in a way that only other females will understand. She giggled and twirled, and helped put them in water. The fact that she gave him a sticker, proclaiming him the world's best dad, speaks for itself.

She and I headed out for a lunch date. Just the two of us. She beamed when I told her no siblings were coming with us. And as enjoyed our Olive Garden salad and breadsticks, I was once again awed by how much I enjoy being with her. Not because I have to or because she’s mine, but because of who she is. She makes me laugh, she makes me think, and she makes me want to be a better person.

Let me tell more about this girl we’re celebrating today…

When asked what she wanted for her birthday, she brought up these Hearts4Hearts dolls. Her reason for wanting these particular dolls? Because a portion of the proceeds go to “help other girls in those countries.” Her words, not mine.
She and I have theological discussions often, and she GETS it. The girl understands more than I was ever able to comprehend at her age. Heck, she knows more than I did in my early teens.
As she and I discussed what she was looking forward to the most on her birthday, she replied that she couldn’t wait to open gifts. And after a brief pause, leaned forward, “Mama, if I get a new coat, can we give it away to someone else who needs it more?” (Verbatim.)
Her favorite excuse for doing something she knows she’s not supposed to do? “I’m sorry. I just forgot for a minute.” Right.
She loves numbers so much that she pulls out her math homework as soon as she gets home on Friday afternoons. And we play calculation/calculator games in the car.
She is sensitive and silly… loving… a dancing fool… wise beyond her years… compassionate and giving… sweet… dramatic (to a fault)… selfless… and beautiful, inside and out.

Baby girl, seven years ago, you came into our lives and turned it upside down. You are still taking my breath away with your thoughtfulness, your insights, and your selflessness. It is an absolute honor to be your mother. Hope your birthday is as special as you are!

The Quiet Will Come Too Soon

2011-11-17T23:46:00.002-07:00

There's noise, always noise in our house. Sometimes its happy noise, or sometimes its rough-housing noise. Sometimes there's fighting, or the sound of Mom losing her patience. There's giggling, discipline being meted out, there's whispered secrets that aren't quiet enough. Toddler tantrums, a baby crying, TV blaring, music playing, feet chasing, couch jumping, sibling fighting, dishwasher running.

Noise. Its inevitable in a house with four children. I can't remember the last time the house wasn't alive with it. And while sometimes I want to run in my closet and lock the door just for a few minutes of quiet, there are other times I stop and try to soak it in.

Tonight as we got ready to go to my parents house to watch the Broncos game, Jon and I just looked at each other from across the room.

The Disney music channel was playing from my phone and Taylor Swift, The Band Perry, and Hannah Montana filled our living room. Jon and I had pushed and prodded feet into socks, then into shoes. Hair had been redone, and clean shirts put on. And it felt like we'd just run a Marathon. Too tired to actually get up and make our way out the door.

So we sat there, Jon in the easy chair and I on the floor. Eyes locked as we soaked in the moment.

Watching Hudson and Devyn tease and torment each other. Laughing as one took it to a physical level and soon both were wrestling on the floor. Watching our two-year-old sway her hips and turn in circles to the music. We marveled at her rhythm and wondered how she could possibly be turning 3-years-old next month. We listened to the baby giggle as she watched her older siblings from the safety of my lap. She rested her head against my chest, too tired to prove she's big like them.

Jon sighed a contented sigh, and again we locked eyes. A smile came across his face and he spoke what we were both thinking. "Its a chaotic family, but I love it. And its ours."

Christmas Ornament Exchange

2011-11-16T07:23:00.001-07:00

Wow! 144 of you signed up for the ornament exchange! I’m so excited, and what a fun way to start the Christmas season.

We divided the entries among the 10 hosts and each host is matching up her participants with partners. We’ve broken down the list alphabetically, by first name. Check the list below and check out the host’s blog to find your ornament exchange partner.

A - Ashely: Addie's blog, Just Another Day in The Life
Ashleigh - Be: Ashleigh's blog, This Lil Heart of Mine
Br - Co: Ashley's blog, Ashley's Carnival Ride
Cr - H: Faith's blog, Walk With Me By Faith
J - Joa: My blog, STAY HERE
Jod - Kil: Kerbi's blog, So Are You to Me
Kim - Len: Leah's blog, The Imperfect Momma
Les - Mol: Emily's blog, A Beautiful Beginning
Mon - Sonja: Karah's blog, Chateau Stracener
Sonya - W: Sonya's blog, Ladybugs, Butterflies, and Boxing

If you can’t find your name and are certain you filled out the form, leave me a comment and we’ll get it figured out. So without further ado…

Jackie – Joanna

Jamie Danielle – Jillian

Jenn – Jill

Jenna – Jill

Jennifer – Jessyka

Jennifer – Jessie

Jessica – Jessica

I will email all my participants later today with your partner’s email address and any notes they left on the form. Just a reminder that all ornaments need to be mailed by Wednesday, November 30th, and there’s a $10 limit.

If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to let me know! Thanks for playing everyone!

A Mish-Mash of . . . Stuff

2011-11-13T19:54:00.002-07:00

Its been quiet on the blog front this week. Mostly because every time I went to publish a post, I couldn’t find the words. So instead of trying to put together a coherent, well thought out post, I’m just going to do a mish-mash of stuff.

I’ve been consumed with the news coming out of Penn State last week. Heartsick over it actually. I tried reading the grand jury report, but I couldn’t get past the first few pages. I just can’t wrap my head around the whole thing… the perpetrator… the witness who did nothing… the coach who was willing to pass the buck to someone else… the victims, oh, the victims. My heart just rips in half over the victims and their mothers. I can’t imagine feeling that helpless.
I read this post on Friday and it resonated with me. Its exactly how I feel about the situation, but couldn’t find the words to write it.
The morning after we found out about it, we had a serious conversation with Devyn and Hudson. Giving them the tools and permission needed to say no. We’ve had those conversations before, in fact we have them every few months, and as uncomfortable as it is (not to mention how much I HATE that we even have to have those conversations), they are important. I encourage you to empower your children with the same tools.
Ashlynn’s hand is healing so well!! In fact, we’re not even wrapping it in gauze any more. She’s using her right hand more, and has a few raw spots that are still healing. It obviously is itching her like crazy, evident by the fact that she keeps trying to gnaw on her hand.
I’d be worried about the gnawing if she actually had teeth, but since she’s almost one year old and without a tooth in her mouth, I see no harm in it.
She is by far our latest teether. All of our other Littles had a tooth, or two or three, by this age. So to summarize, Ashlynn is our earliest walker at 7 1/2 months and our latest teether at almost a year old.
Don’t get my started on the fact that my oldest turns seven and my baby turns one in the next few weeks. My heart can’t handle it. I’m fairly emotional right now and find myself tearing up at the oddest moments.
We have 3 birthdays taking place in from mid-November to the end of December. Three. I’ve decided that after this year, because I think all babies deserve their own birthday party for the 1st one, we’re going to have just one family party for all three girls. We’ll do separate friend parties, but there’s absolutely no way I’m planning 6 different parties in the span of 6 weeks. Not happening.
Besides, between daughters, a niece, a sister, a brother, and Christmas, our December is just too full already. Have mercy, dear Lord, no more December babies!
I usually have a no-Christmas-until-after-Thanksgiving, one-holiday-at-a-time rule. However, I have broken this rule in spades this year. I’ve been playing Christmas music for a couple of weeks now, making Christmas lists, checking them twice, and I even made Grammie’s chex mix today.
Grammie amade this every single year at Christmas. I remember walking into her kitchen and sneaking bits out of the boiler sitting on her counter. Never mind that it was piping hot, it was too delicious to leave well enough alone. For me, Christmas will always equal Grammie. (See? Tears. E.M.O.T.I.O.N.A.L.)
I started making the chex mix about five years ago. There’s something very comforting about the smell of it baking, it takes me back. But the best part? The part that makes me the happiest? Devyn and Hudson are starting to associate the chex mix with Christmas and tradition. And passing that on to them, is priceless!
I had every intention of posting my thoughts on Chapter 5 of the Sacred Marriage study. Obviously that worked out well for me, huh?! Ha! While I’m not consistently posting on the study, I am loving the conversations we’re having on Facebook about the study. I’m thankful that we have women from all walks of life, newlyweds, mothers of babies, mothers of older children, older, wiser, younger, fresh perspectives. Its been a blessing!
We had our dear, sweet friends out for a visit from Washington. It seems that Amy and I have passed the blogging torch on to our younger sisters, since they already have their visit recaps and photos up on their blogs. I will say that we’ve decided to drop the first word in our “blogging friend” description. They are friends, plain and simple. It was a good visit, and perfect timing.
And if I haven’t mentioned it before, I must remedy that now. Hudson, it appears, is partial to blondes. For whatever reason, he is a sucker for them. So when Amy and Kelsey showed up, who are as Scandinavian as they get, I knew instantly that Hudson was going to be smitten. Sure enough, I knew the exact moment that he noticed Kelsey. And her blonde hair. He was suddenly shy and flustered, and couldn’t put a sentence together. Oy. I’m in trouble.

And now on to some business-type matters…

Tomorrow (Monday) is the last day to enter the Ornament Exchange. We’ve had 130+ participants sign up, which is so fun and unexpected. If you’d like to join us, click on the ornament button to the left. Although I highly suggest a more unique name than B*tt M*nch. (I wish I were kidding. Ha!)
I’m offering 10% off all custom blog designs through 11/15 and am offering premade Christmas templates at a fraction of my normal prices. And if you have a Blogger on your Christmas list, then a gift certificate might be the perfect gift. (wink, wink) Click on over and take a look around if you’re interested.

Hope y’all have a wonderful week! I’ll be crying into my pillow over the fact that my baby turns seven on Saturday.

Sacred Marriage, Chapter 5

2011-11-08T20:47:00.000-07:00

I haven't had a chance to read Chapter 5 just yet, but here's the linky tool for everyone else to link up! I'll post by chapter tomorrow.

And a reminder that we'll meet online on Thursday, November 8 at 6:30pmMST to discuss the chapter.

An Update on Ashlynn's Burn

2011-11-08T07:58:00.001-07:00

Its amazing what a difference a few days makes.

What a Week, Ashlynn Update

2011-11-04T23:55:00.003-06:00

Just a warning, I have a couple of pictures in here. And they do look pretty gruesome. So if you’re a queasy one, I don’t suggest continuing.

This has been a hard week, probably one of the most emotional weeks I’ve had as a mother. While my head completely understands that this wasn’t my fault, my heart is having a harder time comprehending it. And every time we went in for a dressing change, it was a plummet straight into the pit of guilt.

During the day, you’d never know that Ashlynn had such a severe burn. I’m sure that staying busy and playing with her brother and sisters kept her mind off her hand. We were able to maintain her pain with alternating doses of infants’ tylenol and ibuprufon. However, that first night was another story and she woke up whimpering and crying about 5-6 times. It broke my heart. And we got very little sleep that night.

At her dressing change the next day, the doctor prescribed us something stronger for nighttime and that made all the difference in the world! I only give it to her at night, and right before a dressing change, otherwise she doesn’t need it.

Thankfully I was warned that the first 24-48 hours after a burn was when her hand would look the worst. And yet, even though I knew this, I was still unprepared for her dressing changes. The 2nd day wasn’t too bad, the only difference being that the blister had doubled in size from the day before. I wish I’d gotten a picture of just how big it got because I couldn’t believe something could be that size without popping.

But it was Thursday’s dressing change that destroyed me. I really think that dressing change traumatized me more than the actual burn. It was pretty clear as we got to the bottom layers of her dressing that the blister had popped on its own. The gauze was soaked through. I was horrified when it was completely unwrapped and I laid eyes on it for the first time.

48 hours after the burn, the main blister popped on its own. You can see some of the blisters on the pads of her fingers in this picture.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, I had to help hold her arm down while the doctor cut away the dead skin. It was seeing the angry, red, raw skin underneath that had me in tears. Even the doctor and nurse had to ask me several times if I was ok. No, no, I was not. This was my baby’s hand that looked like something out of a horror movie. (I’m still in shock that my baby is going through something like this.)

I drowned my sorrows in ChicFilA fries and fry sauce, while crying to Mom over the phone in the parking lot. Yeah. Thursday sucked.

Today’s dressing was hard, but the doctor is greatly encouraged by her progress. The skin and blister is looking just as it should, and they’ve now turned over dressing changes to me. Yay me. (Heavy on the sarcasm there.) And while it looks 10x better today, I think it bothered her more today. She was extra whiney and fussy, even trying to scratch at it with her left hand. At one point, she even brought it up to her mouth and tried gnawing on it. Poor girl.

72 hours after the burn. This is still disgusting but a huge improvement in just 24 hours. Do you see the blister on her thumb? Sigh. It breaks my heart.

Over all, if she wasn’t wearing her white dressing, I’d never know what lied beneath. She is a very resilient little thing. She’s learned how to protect that hand like a pro. If she loses her balance, she falls with her palm up. If she’s brushing past furniture, she lifts her arm high. If a brother or sister gets too close to her, she’ll cradle her arm closer to her chest. Really. Its quite amazing.

The doctors have said it should be completely healed in 2 weeks, with very red skin for several months. All I know is that I’m ready for this week to be over.

Christmas Ornament Exchange

2011-11-04T09:25:00.001-06:00

Did you notice the button in the sidebar? Did you wonder what it was about? Well, a bunch of on Twitter decided to throw a Christmas Ornament Exchange together, because who doesn’t love new ornaments for the tree?!

Addie from Just Another Day in The Life, Ashley from Ashley's Carnival Ride, Emily from A Beautiful Beginning, Kerbi from So Are You to Me, Leah from The Imperfect Momma, Ashleigh from This Lil Heart of Mine, Sonya from Ladybugs, Butterflies, and Boxing, Karah from Chateau Stracener, Faith from Walk With Me By Faith

Here’s how its going to work… If you want to participate, and you don’t need a blog or Twitter account to participate, click on the button or this link. It’ll take you to the form to fill out. We’re accepting entries through Monday, November 14th.

On Wednesday, November 16th, one of us will contact you with your partner information. It’ll be up to you and your partner to exchange mailing addresses for the ornaments.

Go shopping for your ornament exchange. There is a $10 limit.

Then all ornaments should be mailed by Wednesday, November 30th. Easy peasy! I think it’s a fun way to start the holiday season and I’m looking forward to seeing who I get as a partner!

And remember, its open to everyone! No blog or Twitter account needed. Are you going to join us?!

Mommy Guilt x10

2011-11-01T22:37:00.001-06:00

It was a cool morning, so I’d turned the fireplace on to warm up the living room. We sat on the floor, Ashlynn and I, and I was trying desperately to get a picture of her for her 11-month birthday. There were sly looks, batted eyelashes, and then the turning of the face as soon as the flash appeared. It became a game for us, and as I moved out of the way to get in a better position for a picture, she tried to scurry away and momentarily lost her balance.

The next moment happened in an instant and slow motion at the same time. I saw her reach out for the glass on the fireplace to steady herself. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. As her face scrunched up, her mouth open without breathing, the wail of pain about to burst forth. I scooped her up and instantly began apologizing. “I’m sorry, Baby Girl. I am so sorry.” Over and over again.

I put her to the breast, the only way I knew to comfort her, hoping against hope that it wasn’t as bad as I feared. And still she cried. I ran into the kitchen with Ashlynn cradled against my chest, her cries of pain permanently etching themselves into my memory. Hudson and Reagan peeked into the kitchen and kept asking me what was wrong, what had happened. As I ran her burnt hand under the cool, running water, I looked over and explained to them what had happened. I asked Hudson to bring me my phone so I could call Jon, and when he came back with tears in his own eyes, I almost became undone. He adores his baby sister.

I begged Jon to get home, I was on autopilot but I could sense the underlying hysteria. And since Jon’s my rock, my calm, my anchor, I needed him. He promised to come as soon as he could. I held my crying, hurting baby girl, kept a cold compress on her hand, and cursed every minute leading up to the accident. I replayed it over and over, wondering what I could have done to prevent it, why was I stupid enough to be playing so near the fireplace, and my heart ached with Ashlynn’s every whimper. She kept rubbing her hand against the back of my shirt, as if trying to rub away the pain. And I called Jon every 5 minutes to see where he was.

In between calls to Jon, I was able to get a good look at the burn and was shocked at the huge blister that had already formed. It covered the whole palm of her hand, and there were smaller blisters on the tips of her fingers. It looked as though it would burst open at any moment. And I knew a doctor’s visit was in our very near future. I called my friend, Cassie, who lives a few blocks over and without hesitating she came and picked up Hudson and Reagan for the rest of the day. Thank the good Lord for friends in moments like that.

Jon finally arrived home (after what felt like hours) and we were finally able to calm her down with the help of pain meds and cold compresses. Either that, or she had sobbed herself into exhaustion. And we debated back and forth about the best thing to do… And I think sensing that I needed a professional’s reassurance that I hadn’t completely scarred our child for life, he finally agreed that she should be seen.

On the way to the Urgent Care. Can you see the huge blister? She babbled the entire ride there.

The doctor called it a superficial 2nd degree burn and wrapped it in burn cream, vaseline gauze, and the tiniest sleeve you’ve ever seen. He prescribed ibuprufon and tylenol for the pain, and wants to see her in the morning. She passed out on the way home.

Poor, sweet bandaged hand. Handle with care.

She’s already compensating for the loss of her right hand and using her left hand like a pro; she still cries if she puts any kind of pressure on it; and the older siblings are treating her with kid gloves. I spent the rest of the afternoon cuddling her, nursing her, and studying every sweet feature of her face. Just doing whatever I could to ease the ache in my heart, knowing it wasn’t my fault but feeling the heavy burden of guilt anyway. Mommy guilt at its finest.

Trick-or-Treat, Mulan for The Win

2011-11-01T00:26:00.001-06:00

Well, this was one of the craziest Halloweens I’ve ever experienced. I’m exhausted, y’all. Exhausted! I noted that Halloween felt like a marathon, and it truly did. I woke up at 6:30am, trying to get everything together for the day, and don’t think I sat down for longer than 10-15 minutes at a time.

I had to leave the grocery store mid-trip because I could sense the meltdowns were not far away. And I was right.
My friend, Cassie, had to keep a tight rein on Reagan during the costume parade because she so desperately wanted to join her brother and sister and strut her Bumblebee costume.
I sprinted between Hudson and Devyn’s classrooms, with Reagan and Ashlynn in tow, to check out both parties.
And it was mid-transit that I heard the loudspeaker announce Devyn’s name as one of the winners of the costume contest for 1st grade. I shook my head because when Devyn said she wanted to be Mulan, I wondered where she got that idea. Of all the Disney princesses… Mulan. But it earned her some free ice cream at our local coffee shop. So be it.
And truth be told, Mulan has ended up being one of my favorite costumes of hers. She really rocked the Asian Princess look.
We can’t forget Hudson. The I-can’t-decide-until-the-last-minute-thereby-ensuring-Mom-can’t-buy-a-costume Hudson. He had the hardest time deciding between GI Joe, a football player, a fireman, and a cowboy. He finally decided on Cowboy, but it was too late. So therefore, he was GI Joe. Again.

It was a successful Halloween. And now? I’m ready for a day at home, with nowhere to go. Bring it on Tuesday.

I need a good chuckle.

2011-10-30T21:47:00.001-06:00

As I’m going over our schedule tomorrow, I can feel the stress settling between my shoulders. Just take a look…

Morning	Get Devyn dressed, ready for school. Complete with costume. Grocery shopping. Stop by my old job with the dressed-up Littles. Unload groceries. Straighten up my disaster of a house.
Afternoon	Lunch. Get Hudson out the door for school. Return home, put the youngest Littles down for a nap. Get back to Hudson’s class in time for the costume parade, help with the Halloween party. Take everyone to my Mom’s so she can show off the Littles in their costumes.
Evening	Make chili for everyone, try to keep the sugar-high kids from destroying the house, have family over for dinner, get the Littles dressed up (for the 3rd time in less than 24 hours), a mini-photo shoot, and attempt at least 2 blocks of trick-or-treating.
Night	Wrestle sugar-high kids into pajamas, convince them that sleep is a good thing, eventually threaten to take away their candy if they don’t go to sleep.right.this.very.minute, then the sugar coma finally overtakes them, we steal their candy anyway and eventually collapse into bed.

See? Good times await. I need a laugh. You?

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

Yesterday Hudson and I were playing camping in his bedroom. As I looked down at this son of mine, whose heart and imagination are stealing my heart once again, I ran my thumb across his cheek, across the smattering of freckles. “Hudson, do you know where freckles come from?” I asked.

He shrugged impishly, “No.”

“They’re angels’ kisses,” I told him. The same thing my grandma told me whenever she admired my freckles.

“What?!” he asked incredulously. “When they’re done kissing my cheeks, do they fly back into my heart?”

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

When we pulled into the church parking lot, I hopped out and reached into the back to unlatch Reagan from her car seat. She looked at me in surprise. I don’t wear makeup every day and today, like most every Sunday, my makeup was done in the car on the way to church.

“Mama,” she breathed. “You have lips?!?”

Ha! That’ll teach me to wear makeup and lipstick more often.

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

Yesterday we spent the day at my parents house while Jon and Caleb put shelves up in the garage. (Side note, last night was the first time in 33 years of marriage that my parents parked both cars in the garage. Seriously.) Reagan and Elliana are developing quite the relationship, and being only 2 weeks apart certainly helps.

Reagan was walking around with a pacifier in her mouth (a total no-no in our house), when Elliana walked up to her, pulled it out of her mouth, and tossed on the nearest kitchen counter.

“Reagan, you don’t need that! You’re a big girl!”

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

That’s it for now… I hope to have pictures of our Mulan, GI Joe, Bumblebee, and Ladybug up on Tuesday. And for all my complaining of our busy day tomorrow, its going to be a blast too!

Marriage: Its Worth Fighting For

2011-10-27T06:36:00.000-06:00

This post is not directed at any one person or situation. It’s a topic that’s been heavily laid on my heart lately. Be it the Sacred Marriage study or other reasons, I need to write this post. And before anyone tries to second-guess my motives or my intentions, I only put this out there for myself and because of my need to write it.

My sisters and I have alluded to the fact that Allison’s battle with anorexia saved our family. And it did. In every way possible, Allison’s disease forced our family to take drastic steps to fix some major dysfunction.

Allison’s disease was the result of several different reasons, pieces of a puzzle. Our great-grandmother had died, years of having a hard time making friends, eating lunches and playing alone at school, and our family life. In a household where she couldn’t control circumstances, fights, emotions, or her environment, she turned her need to control something… anything… inward. From the time I was 12 years old, until we were forced to family counseling when I was 20 year old, it as a hard home life. The details aren’t necessary, I don’t need to explain every fight or words that were said, or some of the memories we still have. That’s not the point of this post.

The summer of 1999 was a breaking point for our family. Allison’s eating disorder had been around for a year at this point, we were all living separately. Never in our eight years of tumultuous family life had any of us felt as alone and isolated from each other as we did during that summer. It truly was the closest thing to hell on earth. It was “make it or break it” time.

We’ve mentioned a family week that takes place for everyone at Remuda Ranch, another prerequisite to bring Alli home. It was during that week that walls were torn down, emotions and hurt laid bare before each other, and raw honesty was shared within our family. It was one of the hardest things we’ve ever done… and the first step towards healing. Not just for Allison. But for all of us.

Its been mentioned that some may be envious of how close our relationship is as sisters. And we are close, sometimes unhealthily close. They’re my best friends. This, my friends, is the result of facing the fire together and coming out stronger. (Hang in there, I’m bringing it back to marriage in minute.) When you go through an experience like that together, you can’t help but become stronger and closer on the other side. Its like when 2 strangers go through a horrific experience together, like 9-11 or a plane crash. A bond is formed when facing dire circumstances, because you survived TOGETHER.

This is marriage, folks. Its not all romance and flowers, it ebbs and flows. And even when its at its worst, fighting for your marriage IS WORTH IT. You must have the bad to appreciate the good! If you can face the worst thing together, just imagine how strong you’re going to be on the other side. If you never know bad, how can you appreciate the sweetness of the good?!

Watching Allison go through her eating disorder, experiencing the absolute pit with my family, was one of the hardest experiences of my life. Its an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. But… if we hadn’t gone through it, I can only imagine where my family would be today. If it took THAT to fix my family, to make my sisters and I as close as we are, then it was worth it.

About a year after we started family counseling, my parents called all four of us girls together. They had this huge piece of paper, folded up like a scroll. As they unfurled it, they discussed all that had happened during those last two years. They apologized for the mistakes they made, what they’ve learned as a couple, and told us they were ready for a new chapter in our family.

The paper was a marriage covenant. And there, before the four of us girls, they pledged their vows to do it better. Dad signed under the Husband side, Mom under the Wife said, and the four of us signed as witnesses. It still hangs over their bed to this day.

8 years. It was a long, hard 8 years. But they fought for their marriage and gave us a new legacy.

I’m so glad they did.

Sacred Marriage, Chapter 4

2011-10-26T13:30:00.002-06:00

I remember a moment during my engagement to Jon. I was listening to a friend gush and aww her way through the description of her new boyfriend and a reality check set in. I will never get those first-time emotions again. I will never get to experience the butterflies of having my hand held, or the giddy thoughts of whether tonight will be our first kiss or not. I won’t want to stay up all night talking to him because I can’t get enough, because I want to know everything about him. I won’t get those moments of seeing only the good in him, because I haven’t gotten to see the weaknesses yet. It was a little hard having that moment, because I love Love and those moments really are the best.

After time, however, these interesting little mysteries become all too familiar – and that’s when contempt can begin to seek in. Every marriage goes through this stage. An enrapturing love quiets down to a predictable routine.

Almost 10 years of marriage later, 14 years together as a couple, and I can certainly attest to the truth of this statement. Jon and I have reached this point in our relationship where I can predict Jon’s reaction, Jon’s routine, better than he can. Jon knows ME better than I know myself. We can actually finish each other’s sentences. Jon will start to tell me something and intuitively, I just know what its going to be about. And vice versa. We actually have full conversations with our eyes, without a word said between the two of us.

Some may find that boring, the predictability of it going against everything that is supposed to define the idea of soul mates and everlasting, true love. It means the opposite of me. To know that Jon knows me so intimately that he can predict my next thought, my next move, IS true, deep, everlasting love to me. It’s a love born of an intimacy that few get to experience.

Giving respect is an obligation, not a favor; it is an act of maturity, birthed in a profound understanding of God’s good grace.

However its within this intimacy, where there is nothing to hide, that my weakness, my failures, my missteps are laid bare to Jon. He knows ME. All of me. He knows that patience is not one of my virtues. He knows how badly I’ve failed in my worst parenting moments. It’s a nakedness and vulnerability that I’ve exposed to Jon and I’ve placed in him a trust to love me and respect me through those ugly sides and moments.

This chapter spoke profoundly to me and I had to cut this post in so many places. There were so many things I wanted to write about, but decided to keep it to just these two points. One of the best chapters I’ve read so far!!

A Jumbled Mess

2011-10-14T14:46:00.001-06:00

Its Friday. My mind is fried. And bullet points are all I can handle today.
First of all, I am overwhelmed by the kinds words from everyone in response to my last post. Twitter, Facebook, this blog. Wow, I’m just awed that so many care and are excited with me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I have to admit, while the first email was exciting, the second email was even more so. I have names of people to contact, more information about the publishing company, and a greater desire to finish this book. They want to see a finished manuscript! MY finished manuscript. Um, someone pinch me.
So I’m hoping to dedicate more time to this book o’ mine. I’m trying to be realistic in my goals, but I think a book in four to five months is doable. Right? I’ll just write when I have free time. Right.
Hudson’s imagination has really gone into overdrive since starting preschool. I’ve never seen him make up games on his own before. He usually just goes along with whatever Devyn wants to play. But yesterday he played hair salon and today it was restaurant.
He was both the “cooking man” and the waiter. He even set up a table with a chair for me, and plates. He took my order on a coffee filter and scolded me for changing Ashlynn’s diaper in the “restaurant”.
He’s really bossy when he plays imagination.
Last night was Devyn’s first musical performance and it lasted all of 15 minutes. Ha! I’m sure that trying to keep the attention of 80+ first graders is a feat above all feats. So I completely understand.
It was adorable! Adorable in a way that only a mom (or dad or grandparents) can appreciate. I didn’t get teary, it just warmed my heart in only a way other mothers can understand. And to The Grand Ol’ Flag of all things.
Afterwards we went to McDonald’s for a treat after the “concert” and I got a brief glimpse into Devyn’s teenage years. Apparently some other families had the same ideas and there were about three boys from Devyn’s class there, all vying for her attention. And then there was Devyn… who was both embarrassed and flattered by it. Oy vey!
Does anyone want to come take my place during their teen years? I’m just not sure how I’m going to deal with it all.
Reagan is continuing her streak of not going to sleep until 11:00pm or midnight. We have tried everything! Earlier naps, no naps, earlier bedtimes, later bedtimes, earlier wake times. It doesn’t matter. The girl is a night owl. And I’m thoroughly convinced that these Littles are just born with the internal clocks they were given. School mornings are going to be fun with her.
Ashlynn continues to be a morning girl and I’ve decided there’s nothing better than waking up to her ear-to-ear smile.
Her personality is really starting to shine and where Reagan tends to be mischievous, Ashlynn seems to be a clown. We all think she’s hysterically funny and therefore, she’s constantly trying to make us laugh.
And her kisses?! Oh sweet, open-mouthed, slobbery, baby kisses. Be still my heart!
Have you heard of Pinterest? I opened a Pinterest account last spring before it really took off. And while I can totally appreciate the purpose of the site, I just do not have time to devote to it. I’m sorry to anyone that follows me on there, because I never pin anything! I’m just never on there.
Except I will be on there this weekend. A lot.
Apparently when I signed up to “help” with Hudson’s Halloween party at school, I signed up to PLAN it. This was recently brought to my attention by his teacher, and I assure you, had I known that’s what I was signing up for… I wouldn’t have.
So now when you see me pinning a ton of Halloween party stuff this weekend, you’ll know why. And say a prayer for me.

The one that made me jump up and down

2011-10-12T19:03:00.001-06:00

When I got the email, Ashlynn was fast asleep on my chest and it took everything within me not to squeal out loud and wake her up. So I slowly eased out from underneath her and got a few feet away before I started squealing and jumping up and down. I tried calling Jon, there’s was no answer, so I called Christine instead.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as I tried explaining to her through gasps of air.

“Christian… publisher… interested...” was all I managed and all she needed to hear. We squealed and I promised to call her back once I’d caught my breath.

I ran upstairs to talk to Dad, I showed him the email, and he begged me not to get too excited. Um, doesn’t he know its too late for that?!?! And so I decided that I needed to call the one person who’d understand, who would get it, and who would be just as excited as I was. Marianne.

As soon as she answered her phone in Utah and understood why I was calling, I could hear her joining me in the squeals, the laughter, the jumping up and down. I laughed as I imagined her 8-month pregnant belly shaking from her excitement, I could hear the concern in her 2-year-old’s voice as he asked, “Mama? What’s wrong?” And we got teary. Because second to my mom, she has believed in me the most, she has encouraged and supported me, and on occasion, has even kicked my rear end when needed. Its because of her I even started writing again.

I died as I waited for others to call me back… Jon, my sisters, and mom. And I explained again and again. I opened my email to find that a Christian publishing company is hoping I’ll consider them when I finish my book. (As if I have so many other prospects knocking at my door. Ha!) And even if nothing ever comes of it, that email means more to me than I care to admit.

I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon, trying to process what this means, if it means anything at all. I’ve been euphoric one minute and negative the next. Its been a wild ride of emotions. I got mad at myself for saying anything on Twitter at all, afraid of what others will think, and most importantly, afraid of failing.

My writing is one of the most vulnerable areas in my life, publishing those chapters was/is a terrifying step for me. I am so insecure when it comes to my writing, so afraid of failing that I’d rather not even try. In writing this book, I’m trying to prove something to myself. I never imagined it going further than this blog.

And it still might not. I don’t know what, if anything, will happen from that email or the emails since, but I know this… My identity is not defined by either success or failure. A book on the shelves of a bookstore, or the book on this blog, neither will define who I am. And as long as I can keep that in mind (I’m repeating it to myself as I write this), I’m ok with sharing this with you. I’m an open book, my life is an open book, and I’m happy to let you in on this turn of events. Even if I fall flat on my face.

And now I’m just as terrified to hit publish on this post as I was the time I hit publish on Chapter 1.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-10-12T00:43:00.001-06:00

Photos courtesy of Becky Young Photography

Sacred Marriage, Chapter 3

2011-10-11T00:23:00.001-06:00

“Love must be learned, and learned again, and again; there is no end to it. Hate needs no instruction but waits only to be provoked.” Katherine Anne Porter

Gary Thomas used the above quote in Chapter 3 to solidify his argument that love is not a feeling, it is something to be learned. I’m referring to the unconditional, Christ-like love that we’re supposed to feel for our spouses.

Do you know what’s easy for me to do? Its easy for me to nag and nitpick at Jon, to keep a tally of everything he’s done wrong or how much he owes me. Its easy for me to point out the ways Jon could be a better husband or dad. Its easier to believe that Jon’s not meeting my needs or doing his fair share. The list goes on.

Do you know what happens to me when I get sucked into that line of thinking? I become impatient and angry; I become bitter and mean. And the further I fall into this pit, the more our family suffers. When I’m in this cycle, I notice that my patience with the Littles is low and my expectations unattainable. In short, I become intolerable to live with.

But its easier than loving Jon the way I’m called to love him. Because the way I’m supposed to love him requires work. A determination to turn thoughts from the negative to remembering the times he’s been a good husband and father. To resolve to keep the focus on everything he does right, and does well. To take that painful step of asking myself how I’ve failed him and our marriage, and then taking the necessary actions to seek forgiveness.

See? Its work because it goes against our very nature to love in this way; in a way that puts him above me. And because I fail, and fail often, I’m resolute in my desire to learn how to love Jon the way Christ wants me to love him. Again. And again. And again.

And PS, I’m thankful for a man who’s always ready with a portion of forgiveness. He’s had to extend it more times than I care to count.

Chapter 4

2011-10-09T23:14:00.001-06:00

Brooke and Holly were laughing over a joke that Tom, one of the local transients, had shared with them. The three of them sat at one of several picnic tables that dotted the grass of the park sitting on the outskirts of town. They were going through an unseasonably warm period and some from Campus Crusade had taken advantage of it. There were about fifty-five young coeds milling about the park; grills had been dragged out of storage units, dusted off, and taken to the park in the hopes of food, fun, and fellowship. When Logan first heard of the plans, he suggested this park instead of the more popular one on campus. The group had heartily agreed, most having heard both Logan’s seminar last semester and hearing of his rendezvous to this park on a twice monthly basis. That’s how the group found themselves at the park better known for its homeless population than for the young bodies playing Frisbee.

At the sound of Brooke’s laugh, Logan looked up from his place at the grill and smiled. He and a few of the guys had been serving lunch here at least twice a month for the past year. When he’d first lain eyes on Brooke last fall, he’d wondered if she’d ever join them and had instinctively known that she’d be a natural with this outreach. He chuckled when Tom threw out another joke and Brooke laughingly laid her hand on his shoulder and countered with a joke of her own. Tom was one of Logan’s favorites; despite the dire circumstances of his life, he was always smiling and always wanting to make others laugh. It warmed his heart to see Brooke and Tom connecting in the same way he and Tom had.

Logan turned his attention back to the grill and the task of distributing hotdogs and hamburgers to the next in line. Brooke was constantly invading his thoughts these days; he was completely unsure of himself where she was concerned. It was a foreign feeling for a go-getter like himself; he always knew what the next step was going to be in any other situation. He knew where he wanted this to go and he was almost positive that he understood God’s direction, but he was completely out of his comfort zone when it came to what Brooke was thinking and feeling.

While they’d officially met only a few weeks ago, God had brought Brooke to his attention months ago. He’d seen her walk in with Holly, walk up to a new group of underclassmen, and welcome them to Crusade when he heard it loud and clear. That’s her, my son, that’s one the one you’ve been waiting for. While the voice no longer surprised him, he recognized the Lord’s prodding by now, he was surprised at the notion of a spouse, or even a girlfriend for that matter. This didn’t fit his plans at all. Upon his graduation, he’d dedicated his life to serving God and that was his only plan for the next five to ten years. A wife and family just didn’t fit into the equation, especially not now. But with the voice resonating in his head, he started rethinking the original plan. When it became apparent that Brooke and Jason Reed were seeing each other, he took a step back, thinking he must have misunderstood.

Yet week after week, he couldn’t help but be drawn to Brooke and her obvious, sincere love for God and of His children. When God placed them both in Sammie’s coffee shop that night, weeks ago, Logan decided to take advantage of the opportunity. When Brooke revealed that Jason had called things off, he felt his hope soar. In the three weeks since their initial meeting, they’d spent most of their free time together but no lines had been crossed regarding a more romantic relationship. Theirs had grown into a rewarding friendship and Logan was unsure of the next step; unsure of whether Brooke wanted the relationship to cross that line or not.

He looked over at Brooke, mesmerized as she engaged Reagan, a thirty-something year old woman with Down syndrome who called the park “home” in a conversation. He smiled as Reagan told Brooke about her friend, Jesus, Brooke smiling knowingly and listened to Reagan’s plans for the following week. Just then Brooke looked up, as though sensing Logan’s anxious thoughts, and caught his eye. She lifted her hand in a wave and sent him a sparkling smile. He felt himself blush and he groaned inwardly.

One of the most charming things about Brooke was the fact that she was so unaware of her own beauty. But the kicker, the thing that really drew him in, was the way she shined every time she talked about her Lord. It was obvious that her every thought, every action, every move was an extension of a real, fulfilling, and deep relationship with God. He’d never met anyone whose life was wholly dependent on being and giving their best for God. And just by being Brooke, she was challenging him to grow stronger. Yes, he knew that he wanted Brooke for his wife; it was no surprise since he was utterly fascinated by her. He swallowed the lump in his throat; he had no clue how to go about this.

-----------------------------------------------

Brooke swung the Saturn into the left lane, barely missing the truck’s fender and Logan dug his fingers into the seat, trying desperately to hide his fear. Brooke bit the side of her cheek to keep from laughing; Logan looked as though he could bolt from the car at any moment… if she’d slow down long enough for him to open the door. The two were headed to her parents’ house for Easter dinner. When she’d heard that Logan was planning to spend the day alone, she’d insisted that he join her and her family. He’d look thrown at the invitation but hastily agreed to come.

“I truly enjoyed yesterday,” she told him. “It felt so good to get out and really do something for a change. Most just want to sit around and talk about reaching out to those in our community.”

He closed his eyes as another semi came within inches of his window. “That’s the idea. How can we save the world, when we can’t even fix the problems here?” he asked hypothetically.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye; so many guys she knew had such grandiose ideas, yet rarely acted on them. Jason had been such a guy, often blaming his lack of action on lack of time or resources. Logan was such the opposite, starting his twice monthly barbeques for the homeless with one grill, 10 hamburger patties, and two other guys from Crusade. Brooke was certain she’d never met another like him.

Her eyes clouded briefly as she thought of Jason. Rumors had floated through Campus Crusade for a week or so; Brooke paid no mind to them, determined to give Jason the benefit of the doubt. But when Holly confirmed that yes, he was engaged to a woman from his hometown, Brooke closed her eyes in preparation for the pain she was sure to come. She was surprised to feel nothing. Maybe it was the company of Logan that had brought her a distraction. Maybe she had prepared herself for such news when he’d first broken things off with her. But truth be told, she knew that her feelings for Jason had dissolved quickly because they’d never been real to begin with. Once again she was thankful for a praying mom and dad, knowing that through those prayers, she’d been spared a broken heart.

Brooke again jerked her car into the right lane, and looked down in surprise when Logan grasped her hand that was sitting on the console. With tightly shut eyes, Logan mumbled, “I’m scared, all right? And if you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it to my dying day.” Brooke chuckled as she sped past the slow Camry, giving a cheerful wave as she did. The driver looked up in surprise as the Saturn passed her. “That’s it,” Logan groaned. “If we get there safely, I’m driving back.”

Brooke laughed out loud, carefree as could be; what an incredible, joyous day to be alive. She couldn’t help but think how right it felt to have her hand in Logan’s. Inwardly, she giggled like a school girl, anxious to get her mom and sisters’ opinions on Logan. She pressed her foot on the gas and urged the Saturn a little faster.

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Jessica was shocked at Abby’s appearance and wondered what could be causing the shadows in Abby’s eyes. Abby had walked into the kitchen with her infamous egg salad and seemed to melt into the stool at the counter. Jessica exchanged a look with her mom but stayed at the stove to finish steaming the asparagus. Aubrey left her peeled potatoes in the sink and crossed the room to her middle child. Without a word, she drew Abby into her arms and smoothed a lock of hair from her brow. Aubrey smiled, memories of rocking Abby as a child sweeping over her. She felt Abby object at first, ever the independent one, but slowly she relaxed until Aubrey felt like she was being used as a life vest. Aubrey frowned, wondering what was bothering her child. She drew back, kissed Abby on the temple, and murmured into her ear, “I’m here… whenever you need me… I’m here.”

Abby responded with a weak smile but turned the attention to her older sister. “So, Jess, how’s the moving plans progressing?”

Jessica groaned, not even bothering to hide her displeasure at the idea. “Let’s see, the company wants Rob out there in three weeks, we haven’t had any interest on the house, and just by looking online, I highly doubt we can afford anything as nice as what we have here.” She sighed, trying to lower her rising voice. The last thing she needed was for Rob to hear her; things were still a little strained between them, especially now that they were making plans for Rob to go ahead of them.

Aubrey resumed her position at the sink and continued peeling the potatoes. “What happens if you don’t sell in time?” she wondered.

“The company puts Rob in a furnished condo and we’ll stay here until the house sells.” Jessica was torn; part of her was ecstatic at the thought of staying a little longer, the other part fearful of being apart from Rob.

Aubrey raised an eyebrow; she was sure she didn’t like the idea of a husband and wife living separately from one another. A number of verses came to mind but she wisely tucked those away until she and Jessica could talk privately.

Just then she heard a car pulling into the driveway and the toot of the horn as Brooke announced her arrival. Aubrey looked out the window to see Emily skipping across the yard, dressed in her Easter finery, to greet her beloved “Aunt Ookie” – short for Brookie. Brooke emerged from the car and swept her niece into a hug. When a young man surfaced from the passenger seat, Aubrey bit her lip in concentration. Brooke had never brought a guy home before and had wondered what made Logan special enough to do so. Even when Brooke insisted that the two were merely friends, Aubrey had felt a small nudge at the back of her mind. She watched as Brooke introduced Emily to Logan and Aubrey was surprised when Emily reached out her arms to be held by him. Surprised because Emily was rarely that friendly with strangers, let alone a man, but there she was, content as could be.

“Watcha looking at, Mom?” Jessica wondered as she made her way to Aubrey’s side. She raised her eyebrows in surprise at the sight of her baby girl being held by a very attractive man. “Uh oh,” she breathed.

“What?” Abby asked as she joined them at the window. “Who’s that?”

“That,” Aubrey whispered, as she dried her hands on the kitchen towel, “is Logan. He’s a friend of Brooke’s.”

“Friend, huh?” Abby asked incredulously, watching Logan casually take Brooke’s hand into his own. They both watched as Brooke’s face lit up in laughter at something Logan had said. The older sisters exchanged mischievous, leering smiles. “This is going to be fun,” Jessica conspired with Abby.

“Hush you two,” admonished Audrey. She snuck another look out the window, thought that they did make a beautiful couple, and then called for her husband. She moved to the front door to welcome her baby and her baby’s… friend.

-----------------------------------------------

The dining room table was littered with the evidence of a meal that had been well enjoyed; a half-eaten ham sat at one end of the table, while empty bowls of side dishes littered the length of the table. Emily had snuck off to enjoy another movie, this time the sounds of Larry the Cucumber and Bob the Tomato could be heard from time to time. Every so often, she tiptoed back into the room to steal a bit of chocolate from her Easter basket, but would hurry back to watch VeggieTale’s The Easter Carol. Thomas sat at the end of the table, with Aubrey next to him. Both had eased their chairs back from the table and in spite of the fact that Thomas was carrying a conversation with Rob and Aubrey was discussing Kyle and Abby’s upcoming trip to Mexico, the two of them held hands. It was an action that neither of them registered; it was a move that was so routine, so natural. On the other side of the table, Jessica was feeding bits of egg salad to Wyatt while engaged in a conversation with Logan and Brooke of Crusade’s plans for the rest of the semester. To an outsider, it was a room full of chaos and noise, but to the Cooper family, it was the norm.

Abby half-listened to her mom and Kyle discuss their plans for Mexico; she’d heard plenty already about the trip from Kyle. He was so excited to leave in a couple of weeks; he had every minute of their vacation already planned. They’d be busy the moment their plane touched down. Half the time she wasn’t even listening, she just nodded her head from time to time and it seemed to pacify his need for her attention. She looked over at Wyatt, who had thrust his mother’s arm away. Jessica was so intent on her conversation, that she didn’t even notice Wyatt rubbing his eyes. Abby smiled to herself, he was precious, that nephew of hers.

As Wyatt’s eyes continued to droop and as Jessica continued to be oblivious to the growing pile of egg salad on the floor, Abby excused herself from the table. She grabbed a napkin to wipe Wyatt’s hands and face. Jessica looked up in surprised when Abby removed Wyatt from the highchair; Abby motioned for her to stay seated. “Wyatt’s tired,” she explained. “I’m going to put him to sleep.” Jessica nodded her appreciation and returned to the conversation.

Abby shifted Wyatt against her chest and could feel his head growing heavy on her shoulder. She disappeared into the back corner room; the room that used to be Jessica’s had been turned into a nursery, complete with a rocking chair. Abby smiled, knowing that there was nothing her mom enjoyed more than rocking any baby, especially the grandbabies, to sleep. She crossed the room and pulled down the shade. The nightlight cast shadows across the crib and changing table; Abby eased herself and Wyatt into the rocking chair.

She rocked back and forth, singing some of the same lullabies that her mom had sung to her as a child. Wyatt’s head seemed to fit so perfectly in the crook of her shoulder; she felt his body get heavier and heavier as he drifted to sleep. She ended with ‘Jesus Loves Me’ and continued to rock. Abby moved Wyatt from her shoulder to her side; there were times when she couldn’t bear to be in the same room with him. Those were the times that she felt like God was mocking her; dangling the proverbial carrot in front of her nose. And then there were times, like now, where holding Wyatt was a balm for her hurts.

‘Why Lord?’ she wondered. ‘Why am I denied the pleasure of becoming a mother? What have I done to deserve such a nightmare? Please Lord, please! Kyle and I just want the opportunity to become parents; surely we’ll be good ones!’

Abby looked down at her baby nephew, in awe that he would be celebrating his first birthday shortly. She watched as he murmured in his sleep; his cheeks rosy from lying on his aunt’s shoulder and the hair on his head curling from the sweat. She wondered what a baby of theirs would look like. Would he have her blue eyes, her button nose? Would she have Kyle’s brown curls or his almond-shaped eyes? She felt the pressure building in her chest, the pain becoming so unbearable she could barely breathe. Before she could stop them, tears coursed down her face and she wept. Why was the one thing she wanted more than anything else, the one thing she couldn’t seem to achieve? For the next hour, while 11-month-old Wyatt slept in her arms, Abby wrestled with the Lord.

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Thomas was lying in bed, the nightly news was playing in the background, but his mind was on other things. He’d enjoyed the day with his family; he always did. He smiled at the memory of Emily squealing with delight during her Easter egg hunt; he’d enjoyed explaining the meaning behind each item in the Resurrection Eggs; and his heart had leapt for joy when Emily had announced, “He is Risen” when they’d come to the empty egg. He may have been too busy as a father to stop and enjoy those small details with his girls, but he’d learned his lesson and he was making up for missed opportunities with his granddaughter. He sighed deeply; the thought of them moving so far away was a little more than he could bear. But after talking to Rob, he knew they were doing the right thing. If only Jessica would jump on board; it was obvious she was dragging her feet every step of the way. He frowned when he thought of the discord that was evident in their marriage right now. He prayed that this rough patch would be short-lived.

Aubrey was just getting out of the shower when the weather came on the news; he listened to the weatherman predict a continuation of the warm spell with one ear and listened to the clatter of his wife’s lotions and perfumes with the other. He laughed when he heard Aubrey knock some off the shelf and the annoyance in her huff as she picked them back up. His thoughts returned to the day. His concern for Abby was growing stronger each time he saw her but Kyle assured him that she was just tired and overworked. He hoped the relaxation and sun would chase away the shadows and bring back the happy, content daughter he missed. He trusted Kyle; now there was a man who loved his wife with every breath he took. Thomas had no doubts that Kyle would move heaven and earth to make Abby happy. There was no need for concern in that marriage relationship.

Just as his thoughts turned to his youngest and the young man she’d brought home, Aubrey finished in the bathroom. She bounded into the room, lighting it up with the energy that he loved, even this late at night. He smiled at her as she literally bounced into bed. She tucked her legs under her chin, cocked her head, and with a gleam in her eye, asked, “So what did you think?”

“The question is,” he countered, “what did you think?”

She smiled, thought of answering with a cryptic response, but knew he was searching for a sincere answer. When Jessica and Abby had each brought Rob and Kyle home to meet them for the first time, her sixth sense had kicked in and she had known after spending one evening with them that she and Thomas had just met their future son-in-law. Thomas knew about, and respected, the gift that God had given her and often deferred to her intuition on such things. Even though an opinion had already formed in his own mind, he was anxious to hear her thoughts.

She smiled at him, “I liked him. I really, really liked him.” She paused, thinking about the sparkle in Brooke’s eyes and the ease with which they had interacted with each other. “I wasn’t able to get him alone, but when Brooke and I did the dishes, she couldn’t stop gushing about him.” She laughed, “I think I know more about him than I do my own daughter!”

“Well,” Thomas began, “I did get him alone for a little while and you need to brace yourself.” Aubrey felt her breath hitch and her heart stutter. “He wants to marry her.”

“Marry? They’re already talking about marriage? How can that be? They’ve only known each other a short time.” She paused for a moment, thinking back on their conversation in the kitchen. She shook her head, “No, you must be mistaken. Brooke would’ve mentioned that to me. I’m sure of it.”

“Whoa, Tiger, slow down. Don’t get in such a tizzy.” He held up a hand when Aubrey opened her mouth to interrupt. “He was pretty straight forward with me; he said that Brooke had no idea how he felt but that he was sure that this is where they were headed. He wondered how I’d felt about it.”

“And…” Aubrey said impatiently, eager for him to continue.

“I told him the same thing I told Rob and Kyle when they came to me. My hope that they’d both always put Christ first, that being best friends was more important than the flash and heat of passion, and that she was my baby, and as such, I expect her to be treated like a queen.”

Tears filled Aubrey’s eyes and she reached across the bedspread to clasp Thomas’ hand, “Oh Tommy, our baby.”

Thomas felt his own grow misty and he cleared his throat. “Well, I have to say I was impressed with his thoughts on the problem with the disappearing generation in the church.” He chuckled at the memory of Logan’s enthusiasm on the subject. “Yes, I think our Brooke may have met her match.”

He gathered his wife into his arms, and she willingly allowed herself to be held. She had no doubts that a Cooper wedding was in their near future; she just never imagined the hollow feeling of watching her youngest take such an important step. She drifted to sleep with memories of Brooke playing “Bride” with her older sisters.

Thomas looked down at his sleeping wife and tightened his grip. He absently brushed her hair, smiling at the gray that lay interspersed with the auburn strands. He was a bit alarmed at the speed of which Brooke and Logan seemed to be progressing toward the altar but he trusted his girls implicitly. They knew their hearts and little could be said to deter them once minds had been made up. He rubbed his temple in concentration, unsure where the uneasy feeling was coming from. It could be stemming from any of his girls’ situations but he had a strong feeling that it had nothing to do with them. ‘Lord, what are you trying to tell me? Is there something you want me to do?’ Silence was the only answer, so he turned on his side, pulling Aubrey against his chest, and fell asleep.

She’s a sly one

2011-10-08T21:39:00.002-06:00

Reagan came up to me, blue eyes as round and innocent as possible. “Where’s my paci?” she asked. She lifted her shoulders in question.

I smiled and pointed to the kitchen. “Its on the counter.”

“Can I have it?” I watched as she blinked once, then twice. All sweetness and seemingly without guile.

I shook my head no. “You know the rules, Rea. Its only for naps and bed time.”

She formed her mouth into a pout, then her eyes brightened. “But I just want to hold it.”

So NOT a Wordless Wednesday

2011-10-05T00:23:00.000-06:00

At this time last year, we met our talented friend, Becky, for a maternity shoot. The photographs from that day were amazing, and I’m so glad that we have them to remember that time in my life.

Becky was kind enough to meet us for another family shoot yesterday, and while I knew we’d had our pictures taken in October of last year, I had no idea that we were getting photos taken exactly a year later. To the day. October 4, 2010 and October 4, 2011. One year and one beautiful baby girl later, our family is complete. It feels good.

Becky sent me a few sneak peeks of our session yesterday and oh, I just love these faces. My people. My blessings. God is so good to us!

Courtesy of Becky Young Photography

Thank you, Becky, for these gorgeous photographs! They turned out beautifully and I can’t wait to see the rest!

Six Years and Counting

2011-10-04T00:22:00.002-06:00

Six years ago, on October 4, 2005, I hit publish on my very first blog post and never looked back. It has been one of the greatest things I've endeavored and I can’t begin to explain all that blogging has meant to me.

It has been with me through the announcements of three of my four pregnancies, two sisters’ weddings, post-partum depression, my sister’s struggle with infertility. It has allowed me to journal my lessons as a mom and wife, its given me a place to voice frustrations and rants. Its become the scrapbook of each child’s milestones and stories and pictures. Its given me nights of reading through the archives and making me misty from the forgotten moments.

This blog chronicles our story. My story.

6 years. It’s the longest I’ve kept a journal. I can’t begin to tell you how many journals I have in storage. I’d run my hands over the new cover and dream of the things I’d fill its pages with. I was so inspired that I’d write in it every day… for a month. Then it would drop to once or twice a week, then once or twice a month. Then not at all. And my half-empty journal joined all the other half-filled journals in the bottom of my dresser drawer, underneath my shirts and jeans.

The fact that I’ve maintained this journal for six years is beyond my comprehension. Yet, somehow I’ve done it and I’m so happy I did.

6 years… Wow.

And if I’d known then what I know about blogging, I would say this to my past self.

The friendships made through blogging are very real. Some won’t understand and will think you’re crazy, but Amy in Washington is every bit as real and authentic and loved as those with I have history with..
And some won’t understand the desire or willingness to be so open and transparent with the world wide web. Just smile and nod.
Make sure you have approval from anyone who might be affected by a post… especially Jon, the sisters, and your mom. Sigh. Lesson learned.
Figure out why you’re blogging and remain true to that reason. Don’t try to be someone you’re not.
lf you’re willing to put yourself out there, just be aware that there will be judgments whether its asked for or not. Shake it off.
If a post is ever questionable, sleep on it. You’ll thank me in the morning.
Remember that there’s a chance that anyone you’ve ever met might stumble upon your little corner of the internet. And don’t be surprised when you’re introduced as “…this is the lady whose blog I shared with you.”
This will become one of your greatest treasures. Its worth is immeasurable.

Thank you for following along on this journey of mine. I don’t know how you found me or if you know me through the internet or in real life, but I hope that this blog has touched you or made you laugh along the way. It certainly has shaped my life.

Say What?!

2011-09-29T18:21:00.001-06:00

Yesterday when I picked Hudson and Devyn up from school, Hudson pointed at a little girl with blond, curly hair and blue eyes. She was walking out of his classroom, her hand in her mom’s, and a Hello Kitty backpack on. “Mama,” he said. “She’s pretty.” I looked at her and agreed, “Yep, Bud, she sure is.”

And as we walked to the van, his eyes followed her as they made their way to their own car. ‘So cute,’ I thought. ‘His first crush.’

After a morning of throwing up, Hudson stayed home from school. His 3-hour nap this afternoon confirmed that we’d made the right decision.

We picked Devyn up from school this afternoon and once everyone was settled at home, he asked Devyn, “Did you tell my girlfriend that I was sick?”

Um, what? Excuse me? Girlfriend?

“Devyn, my girlfriend is pretty!” he continued. I just nodded my head, in awe that this conversation was actually taking place.

“I’m going to tell Daddy that I have a pretty girlfriend!” he announced. “He’ll like that.”

“Yes, Bud, I’m sure he will.” It took all my willpower to keep my tongue planted firmly in my cheek and keep from laughing at my little man.

The rest of the afternoon was spent asking whether or not his girlfriend could come over to play, or if she could have a sleepover, or if I had his girlfriend’s phone number, and the questions went on and on.

And when Daddy came home and Hudson told him about his pretty girlfriend, Jon and I exchanged looks over Hudson’s head. Were we really at this place already? Granted, he’s four and has no clue what he’s talking about, but still…

Hudson and girlfriends. A glimpse of things to come!

Wordless Wednesday

2011-09-28T08:32:00.003-06:00

Sacred Marriage, Chapter 2

2011-09-26T23:49:00.000-06:00

Due to the wedding and out-of-town family, I haven't had time to gather my thoughts and write a post about Chapter 2 of the Sacred Marriage study. But please feel free to link up and we'll plan on meeting Thursday night at 6:30pm (MST) on Facebook to discuss this chapter. I hope to get my post up before Thursday.

A Time to Dance

2011-09-25T08:49:00.007-06:00

“There is a time for everything…
a time to be born and a time to die,
   a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
   a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
   a time to mourn and a time to dance.” Ecclesiastes 3

When Dad pulled out this scripture reference in his speech last night at Alli’s wedding, I knew the tears were going to flow. Especially following Courtney’s emotional toast to the bride and groom.
We have mourned, we have healed, and last night… it was time to dance.

Congratulations to the new Mr. and Mrs. It was a beautiful day!

Wordless Wednesday

2011-09-21T07:00:00.000-06:00

Some Miscellaneous Favorites

2011-09-20T09:14:00.001-06:00

So, this is a completely random post about a few of my favorite things. There is no rhyme or reason to this post, which is a good indicator of the scattered state I’m currently in. I’m afraid this is as deep as I’m going to get this week. We’re in wedding countdown mode…

Speaking of which, rather than bore y’all with a 3rd post about Alli’s bachelorette party, I’m just going to direct you to my sisters’ posts here and here. This is the downside of sisters blogging too. You get inundated with duplicate posts. Just wait until after the wedding… You’re going to be sick of us!

Moving on.

First up is one of my favorite Android apps. About 4:00 every afternoon, I turn my attention to dinner. And I’m always at a loss of what to make. (I realize that I could totally create menus and save myself the trouble, but that’s beside the point.) Enter the AllRecipes Dinner Spinner. Psst. It’s a free app too.

You can enter specific ingredients and dietary needs, the type of dish, and how much time you have to prepare it. Click View Matches, and it pulls up all the recipes in that category. Or if you don’t have any specific requirements, just shake your phone and random recipes pop up. This app has saved dinner on more than one occasion.

Random side note: I found a new favorite Pumpkin Bread recipe on the actual All Recipes website. I posted it on our recipe blog. Delicious!

Moving on.

I don’t know about the rest of you that blog on Blogger, but the formatting drives me absolutely crazy. There are spaces where I don’t want them, I can’t get paragraphs to line up, etc. And forget pictures, that throws everything into a tailspin.

Enter Windows LiveWriter.

Now I realize that this isn’t available to you Mac people, and I’m sorry for that, because I think this is the best blogging program… ever! I rarely post through blogger.com anymore and more often than not, post from this program. It makes formatting blog posts, pictures, lists, tables, etc. a breeze!

It’s a free program that you download to your PC, you run through the set-up instructions and viola, you’re up and running. Its my little blogging secret.

Ok, I gotta go now. Relatives are starting to arrive today for the upcoming nuptials and I have pumpkin muffins to bake.

Why this one is different.

2011-09-14T00:37:00.001-06:00

I have a confession to make. I've been very detached from the wedding planning process with my sister and her fiancé. I had even convinced myself that it was because I had four children and I didn't want to bring Littles to wedding appointments. I had too much going on, too busy. Besides they had it under control, I wasn't needed. And while that last part is probably true, I've been lying to myself... It wasn't that I was too busy, it was that I was in denial.

We went to the family cabin over Labor Day weekend and on our drive back home, it hit me like a ton of bricks. My sister was getting married. MARRIED. And moving away. The tears and the lump in my throat stayed the rest of the day.

Most won't understand the bittersweet feeling that we're drowning in right now. After all, a wedding is a joyous occasion, a love and a union to be celebrated, and we are thrilled for Alli and Brian. There is not a doubt in my mind that they love each other and will create a wonderful life together.

But.

She's our Alli.

For as long as I can remember, it has been my job to protect and take care of Allison. It started in elementary school when the other kids her age didn't want to play with her, thinking she was always younger than she said because of her small size. I can't begin to number the times that Allison came home in tears because the kids teased her and told her that she was really in a grade lower than the rest of them. It was those early years of Allison's school career that Mom and Dad requested we look out for her on the playground. And we did. If we saw our sister playing alone, we'd swoop her up in whatever game we were playing, or would break from our friends and join her on the swings. Anything to protect our sister from feeling lonely or having hurt feelings.

It was a role that we all played, from oldest sister to the youngest.

Allison's struggles continued... from a learning disability to difficulty in finding good friends to heart murmurs. Every time something new happened to Allison, or every time she got discouraged, we were there.

Then when she was 14 years old, she became anorexic. She was admitted to Children's Hospital on her 15th birthday. She weighed just 58 pounds. Mom and Dad took us to see her a few days later, and walking into that hospital room was more than I could bear. As my eyes scanned the room, from the tiny, listless body on the hospital bed to the heart defibrillator by her pillow, a sense of utter despair and failure washed over me. And while it doesn't make sense and I know that its not true, I felt I had failed her. I couldn't save her from this disease, I couldn't put myself in her place, nor could I fight it for her. I managed to maintain my composure while we were in her room, but the moment we got in the elevator, I collapsed into a weeping mess.

Alli was in and out of the hospital for months, doctors would bring her weight up just enough to release her from the hospital. But they never dealt with the emotional aspect of the eating disorder, so in a matter of weeks, her weight would be low enough to warrant another hospitalization. It was a vicious cycle, and it was fast becoming obvious that Alli wasn't going to be healed at the hospital. My parents made arrangements to send her to Remuda Ranch in Arizona, which involved an intensive 3-month, inpatient program. Meaning our sister was going to be away from us, living in another state, for months. We said our goodbyes and driving away from the facility, from Allison, was heart wrenching for all of us.

We returned a couple of months later for an intense family week at the ranch, a prerequisite to bring Allison back home. We parked the car and made our way onto the grounds, our eyes searching for Allison. And when the small figure with the pixie haircut broke free of a group of girls, we ran to each other. The sound of feet beating the pavement as we ran across the shadowed grass. Oblivious to the Arizona sun, we ran to each other and wrapped our arms around our missing link. Sisters reunited. Even Mom and Dad allowed us this moment, despite the fact that they'd missed her just as much. There wasn't a dry eye to be found.

I can't begin to explain the emotions of seeing our sister after the time apart, but most importantly, being able to see Allison when we looked into her eyes. For months during the eating disorder, her eyes were devoid of anything resembling our sister, but seeing the sparkle return to her eyes made the months apart worth it.

This is what makes this wedding so different from the rest... Its a celebration of all that she's conquered in her lifetime, a testament to her strong will and stubborn spirit. Its going to be a beautiful day, watching these two join their lives together, but its also the end of an era... the last of the Sanchez sisters... the sister who helped bring our family back from a very dark place.

She’s getting married in 10 days and it’s so bittersweet.

Sacred Marriage, Chapter 1

2011-09-12T23:35:00.002-06:00

There were so many highlighted quotes throughout this chapter that there were times I wondered why I didn’t just highlight the whole darn thing. Here’s just a few that really stood out to me…

“Not that God has anything against happiness, or that happiness and holiness are by nature mutually exclusive.”

This was important to me, simply because I think this is a common misconception. I think there’s this idea that to be holy is to deprive yourself of happiness, and I quite frankly don’t believe that to be true. I love that the author was clear on this point.

“I guess what I’m after is a quieter fulfillment, a deeper sense of meaning, a fuller understandings of the purpose behind this intense, one-on-one, lifelong relationship.”

Amen. I know of marriages that sit in silent misery, so overcome by their hurts and the failings of their spouse but determined to “see it through”. Or the marriages that coexist, neither knowing the other intimately. This is not what I want out of my marriage. I want a full, deep, and thriving marriage!

“Yes, without a doubt there should be moments of happiness, meaning, and a general sense of fulfillment. But my wife can’t be God and I was created with a spirit that craves God. Anything less than God, and I’ll feel an ache.”

I think this quote sums up the book, and the purpose of marriage, nicely. We’re created to be in an intimate relationship with our Creator, and so often, I turn to Jon and expect him to fill the voids that only God can fill. So when Jon fails in meeting my expectations and my needs (which he will because only God can fill those), I start to criticize and be disappointed in him and our marriage. I know where I need to keep my focus, but I fail so often…

I’m really looking forward to the insights that Gary Thomas will offer in the coming chapters. I pray that his words will penetrate my heart and soul in a way that convicts me in the areas I need to work on and emboldens me to continue seeking the only One who can fulfill me.

Please visit the other ladies embarking on this journey; I’m sure we all took different things away from this chapter and I look forward to reading their thoughts.

A List

2011-09-12T09:55:00.001-06:00

My mind is too muddled and exhausted this early in the morning. I’m hooked up to a coffee IV as I type this and I pray it’ll help my mind start functioning again. However, until I can form coherent sentences, enjoy my random list of… stuff.

Ashlynn is now walking. Like full-on, walking-across-the-room walking.
Did I mention that she’s just 9 months old? And she’s my baby, the last? Apparently all the times I pushed her back down hasn’t deterred her from walking.
I wonder how she hasn’t gotten the memo that she’s not allowed to grow up so fast.
Hudson is loving, LOVING, his preschool. At first he seemed kind of intimidated by the other boys. But I’m happy to report that by Thursday, he’s was playing “Bad Guys” with the other boys during recess.
And chasing girls. He spent the whole weekend talking about the girl in the blue skirt. Um, excuse me, I thought I was the only woman in his life.
Reagan and Devyn seem to be having a harder adjustment to all the recent changes in our life.
Reagan doesn’t quite understand why she can’t go to school, and constantly reminds me that she’s a big girl too.
Devyn comes home from school exhausted and emotional. Very emotional.
So emotional that when I asked her why she was crying last week, she responded, “I don’t know! I just feel like crying!”
Oy. And hormones haven’t even come into play yet. Send wine for the teen years. Lots of wine.
Reagan continues to be our resident nudist. No amount of duct tape will keep her from stripping down and sleeping, playing, or watching TV while naked.
Which normally, I’m not a mom that cares. Be naked. But child, its time to be potty-trained then. And she just hasn’t shown any desire to learn that skill yet.
Speaking of emotional, Mama’s a bit of a wreck right now.
I have a whole post dedicated to my feelings regarding the upcoming nuptials of my third sister. But I need some approval before I can post it.
Lets just say this is hard. Especially since I’ve apparently been in denial and ignoring my feelings these past nine months.
In turn, I know I’ve been less than ideal to live with right now. Bless you, Jon and Littles, for putting up with the crazy lady.
Wedding festivities, last minute checklists, and out-of-town company are a whirlwind right now. I seriously have lists for my lists.
Which also means that I should probably wrap this post up and head out in search of shoes for the entire family.
That won’t be an easy task.
Pray for me.
And I leave you with a picture of our walking Munchkin. Its so unnatural to see something so small walking around.

Another year older…

2011-09-08T18:53:00.001-06:00

When I look back on weeks leading up to my 30th birthday, I have to laugh at myself. I was so vain and afraid of that dreaded milestone… As if my life would have no meaning outside of my twenties, as if the twenties represented the pinnacle, the highlight of my life. It felt very traumatic, but I can look back now and laugh about it.

Oh ye of little faith.

I turned 32 on Tuesday. 32. Two years past that dreaded birthday and I can honestly tell you that I’m loving my thirties. There’s such a sense of self about these years. I feel like not only have I grown into myself, but I actually like who I am.

I don’t know about you, but I felt like I had so much to prove in my twenties. Prove that I knew what I was doing, prove that I’d made the right decisions with my life, prove that my life mattered. I had an explanation for everything, arguments to win, and vast knowledge to share with the rest of the world. (Um, actually, I’m still like that sometimes.)

All that proving I had to do led to a pretty self-righteous, pious, and insecure life. For as much as I wanted the world to know how right I was, I was equally afraid that others would see right through me for the fraud that I was. For every answer I had, questions and doubt followed close behind.

However, within the past few years I’m finally feeling comfortable and liking who I am. I don’t have all the answers, and I’m ok with that. I no longer feel the need to measure my failures or successes against someone else. I like that I’m sassy, opinionated, and a little bit loud. I no longer feel like defending my parenting decisions or passing judgment on another who parents differently than I do.

Now don’t mistake what I’m saying. Just because I’m comfortable in this skin, doesn’t mean that I’m not comfortable with all my failings. I seem to be even more aware of areas that I need to work on, and I find a deeper desire to smooth out those rough edges.

But, overall, the thirties are being good to me.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-09-07T16:40:00.002-06:00

An Emotional Mess

2011-09-01T23:41:00.001-06:00

I’ve done this before… You’d think I’d be a pro at this by now, that it would get easier each time. I certainly didn’t expect this to be so hard, and yet I’ve spent most of the day blinking back tears, the lump in my throat threatening to give way to the dam of emotions threatening to break loose.

I was admiring my Ashlynn Rose in the grocery store, 9 months old today, when I got the call. She was sitting up in the grocery cart, proud as could be and you could tell she felt so grown-up. I was enjoying her giggles as she watched her older brother and sister’s antics. Watching my middle children hop from the cart’s car to the aisle to their sister, and back again.

When I heard the phone ring, I looked down at the caller ID and since I didn’t recognize the number, I didn’t answer it. But a thought niggled in the back of my mind and I knew who it was. Sure enough, once groceries and Littles were loaded into the car, I checked my voicemail. I called the unfamiliar number back and started talking with the woman on the other end. Hudson’s preschool teacher.

Hudson had been on a waiting list for preschool and last we’d heard, it was still a full class. Imagine my surprise when she told us about the Open House the next day, and I asked, “So, he’s in?” She laughed and assured me that yes, not only was he in, his name was already on everything and they couldn’t wait to meet him.

We exchanged a few more details, promised to connect at the Open House, and hung up. When I told Hudson about his new teacher and school, his excitement was almost palpable. We discussed all the details on the way home.

“Mama, is my teacher a boy? Or a girl?”

“My teacher is probably Miss Benedict.” “No, Baby,” I assured him, “I’m pretty sure she’s going to stay Devyn’s teacher.” He frowned, “No, I think she’s going to be my teacher too.”

“Mama, what are my friends’ names?”

“I’m only going to play with the boys. Not the girls.”

“Reagan, you can’t go to school yet. You’re just a baby.” To which, Reagan promptly burst into tears and no amount of reassurances from me could soothe her little heart.

The rest of the day has been spent between encouraging Hudson’s excitement and curiosity over this major milestone in his life; reassuring Reagan that one day she’ll be at school too; and allowing my own heart to grieve the passing of time.

It begins anew. This letting go of yet another baby. Entrusting him to a new adult in his life and new adventures. But yet, my heart hurts. It feels as though it was just yesterday I was admiring his gorgeous, blond curls and listening to his baby giggles. It feels like it was just yesterday that I was dropping Devyn off at her first day at the same preschool.

He’s ready, I know he’s ready. I’ve never seen a child mature and grow as much as Hudson has this summer. He’s matured in every way imaginable… emotionally, physically, even spiritually. I blinked and he turned into a boy. He’s ready for this next step of independence, of making new friends, of playing and running with boys his own age. I can only imagine how much more he’s going to bloom this year.

He may be ready, but I am not. I’m going to miss my little man.

An Appropriate Repost

2011-08-30T22:13:00.001-06:00

After a few recent conversations, there is no doubt that this marriage study wasn’t an accident. And very much needed right now. These conversations have brought up my own need to check-in with Jon and the state of our marriage. I never want to be blinded to the weak areas in our union, nor take it for granted. And it brought to mind this post that I wrote almost three years ago. It seems an appropriate time to post it again…

I Never Said It was Easy – October 22, 2008

As the idea tumbled around and around in my head, I felt myself getting almost giddy at the prospect of a date with Jon. No kids… no kid meals… no pleading with Hudson to sit still or not throw food… no cajoling Devyn to eat more bites… no puzzled looks from Jon as he tries to decipher what I’m saying over the din of two kids. In other words, complete bliss.

I pampered myself for this date, much like I did when we were in a dating relationship. I shaved my legs, got out the best-smelling lotions, I took an unusually long time with my hair and make-up, and tried on several different outfits. It felt good to take that time to get pampered, knowing that Jon would not only notice, but would appreciate the effort.

Eleven years we’ve been together; eleven years ago today was the first day we started this relationship. I’m in awe of how far we’ve come, the memories we’ve shared, and the fact that for the most part we actually still like each other. Oh, we have our moments, our family and friends can attest to that. But at the end of the day, he’s my best friend, the one that I think to call first with good or bad news, and the one that I know will always have my back.

Marriage has been on my mind a lot this past week. Maybe it was our date-night; maybe it was the fact that we saw “Fireproof” after going out to dinner; maybe it was Courtney and Jeremy talking about their experience at Family Life’s marriage conference; maybe it’s the conversations Jon is having with friends… one is trying to decide if he’s ready to propose marriage and the other, a newlywed who had no idea that marriage was hard work. My husband’s response? “I said marriage was awesome, not easy.” Regardless, I feel led to write about this idea of marriage.

Do you remember your wedding day? Do you remember the months of preparation leading up to the wedding day? I do. Jon and I were engaged for 15 months, a l-o-n-g time frame that I would not encourage to anyone else, and so I was able to spend 15 months obsessing over every detail of that day. The dress, the flowers, the colors, the venues, the photographer, etc., it was so important to me to get that day right.

And then we were sent to the Family Life “Weekend to Remember” conference. For three days, we sat in seminars about marriage. During certain sessions of the conference, the engaged couples were taken out of the room and given frank talks about marriage. No words were minced, no hands were held, no warm, fuzzy feelings were given. They were brutal, or so it seemed to us at the time. In reality, the speakers were just being real. Marriage is hard work; if it were easy, then many of the couples at that conference would have no need to be there. It was obvious that many couples at the conference were close to the end of their marriage, feeling as though irreparable damage had been done. It was a wake-up call.

The last seven months of our engagement was spent in pre-marital counseling… TONS of pre-marital counseling. We did an eight-week course through our church and we met on separate occasions with Jon’s cousin and his wife, then my aunt and uncle. Both men married us on the day of our wedding and wanted to be sure that we knew what we were getting ourselves into. While we still had (have) our moments, we were given so many tools to start our marriage and I shudder to think what would have happened without them.

I wonder about our society today; a society that believes in tit for tat, a society that believes in putting yourself and your needs above everyone else. And then that same society wonders why the divorce rate is climbing steadily. There are days when my needs aren’t being met, just as there are days when I’m not meeting Jon’s needs. And trust me when I say this, when our needs aren’t being met, those are the days that can, and often do, lead to some really bad fights.

However, there are two things that keep Jon and I moving forward, instead of apart. One, we went into this marriage knowing and agreeing that divorce was not an option. Let me repeat that, IT IS NOT AN OPTION. No matter how bad the fight, no matter how hurt the feelings, we have two choices. We can either seek forgiveness or to forgive, or we can live in a silent, hurt world that only we’d created. Two, we’re constantly reminding ourselves that this marriage is not about ourselves. If I’m having a particularly bad day, I often have to ask myself when was the last time that I put Jon’s needs above my own. Sadly, the answer often makes me hang my head in shame.

Jon and I don’t have the perfect marriage, my parents haven’t done it perfectly, and surprisingly, neither have my pastor and his wife. I’m finding that marriage is a constant work-in-progress; I doubt I’ll ever have it completely figured out. However, I do know this. My marriage is the most important relationship in my life; Jon is one of my greatest blessings. He is my best friend, the father of my children, and the man that I’ve chosen to spend my life with. Yet, so often, he is the one that I take for granted the most. It’s so easy to assume that he’ll always be there, that he is infallible, no matter how I treat him.

These spouses of ours were once heroes in our eyes; there was once a time when just the sound of their voice or glimpse of their smile is all we needed to get through a rough day. What happened to that? What happened to our promise to “have and to hold, to cherish in good times and in bad times”? What would it do to their spirit, to their person, if we reverted back to the days of dating and put their needs above our own? So often we forget to treat them as we’d like to be treated. I’m more than willing to continue on the plan that God designed for marriage; which means putting in long hours and hard work to ensure that our marriage is as fulfilling and meaningful as God intended the marriage relationship to be.

We actually did it!

2011-08-28T10:10:00.001-06:00

So after numerous takes, we finally, finally have a vlog fit enough to share with you all. Now we answered maybe half the questions, because we didn’t want it to get too long. And you’ll hear our friend, Annie’s, voice in the background a couple of times. We tried to get her on camera but she was having none of that.

So without further ado, our vlog. And if nothing else, fast-forward to the bloopers at the end. There are no words.

Sisters vlog… and laugh… a lot.

Sacred Marriage It Is

2011-08-25T07:09:00.002-06:00

Your marriage is more than a sacred covenant with another person. It is a spiritual discipline designed to help you know God better, trust him more fully, and love him more deeply… Scores of books have been written that offer guidance for building the marriage of your dreams. But what if God’s primary intent for your marriage isn’t to make you happy… but holy? And what if your relationship isn’t as much about you and your spouse as it is about you and God?

Well, the masses have spoken and Sacred Marriage it is. I’m really excited about this for two reasons. One, it’ll allow us to have a broader audience this time around. And two, I’m always looking for a way to make my marriage stronger.

So I guess, we’re ready to start. Please bear with me as we iron out details as we go along. I’ve never imagined doing a Blogger/Twitter bible study before, so I’m sure there might be some bumps along the way. I appreciate your patience in advance!

Just to recap…

We’re going to read one chapter every two weeks. This book has 13 chapters, so we’re looking at 26 weeks or 6 months. That’s a long time, and I certainly understand if its too much of a commitment at this time.
Every other Tuesday we’ll post our thoughts on the chapter, and link back on this blog so we can all read each other’s posts.
The following Thursday, we’ll hold a discussion about the chapter on Twitter.
I will also be creating a private Facebook page so we can interact there too, as well as share prayer requests.

If you’re interested in joining us on this adventure, please do the following.

Buy a copy of the Sacred Marriage by Gary Thomas. I have a list of sites where its available below, and I’m sure its available at your local Christian book store too.
Either leave a comment on this post, or send me a private email at biggest_blessings (at) yahoo (dot) com. In the comment or email, please give me your name, email address, and/or Twitter handle.
Have the 1st chapter read and your thoughts ready to post about by Tuesday, September 13th.

Whew. I think that’s it! And if you made it all the way to the bottom of this post, I’m impressed.

I’m praying that in the midst of us learning together, growing closer to God and our spouses, that God will also be glorified in this body of women. I hope you’ll be able to join us!

Amazon – $8.25
Barnes & Noble - $8.24
Lifeway - $14.99
Christianbook.com - $8.49

Blogging Bible Study?

2011-08-23T11:48:00.001-06:00

So I saw this study in my email box and tweeted that I’d love to this study and ventured forth an idea of doing a Blogger/Twitter bible study. I really had no clue what that would look like and am just starting to flesh out the idea. But here’s what I’ve come up with so far…

All participants could read one chapter every 2 weeks, and post their thoughts about the chapter every other Tuesday. I’ll provide the linkup and we could all visit each other sites and read each other’s thoughts.
Then those that are on Twitter could gather for a Live chat that following Thursday to discuss questions from the chapter.

I am really liking this idea and would love to have anyone who’s interested join us! I am in no way an expert on all things Bible or parenting or marriage or whatever we decide to study, I’ll be learning alongside all of you. But I’m happy to mediate and organize the study.

My only concerns are a) I still think we can all benefit from studying and having fellowship with other women face-to-face, I don’t think this should replace that at all, and b) sharing prayer requests. I haven’t quite figured that one out yet… I welcome thoughts or opinions on this.

So moving on to study ideas… I originally wanted to do the above study, but it is pretty limited to only those with sons. So I’m putting forth a selection of study ideas for those interested to place their votes. Majority rules.

You can place your votes on the left… You can read more about each study by clicking on the links below.

Saying Goodbye

2011-08-22T21:41:00.001-06:00

The hardest part of loving is saying goodbye.

I woke this morning with gritty eyes. The kind where your eyes throb and feel about 100lbs heavier, the kind that itch and ache. The kind born of a good cry; a good indication of how I spent my Sunday.

Its been an emotional weekend for my family and for those that know us in real life, know why. After 12 years, my mom and sister made the hard decision to put down our loyal, devoted, and loving dog Zeus. Its nearly impossible to describe all that Zeus meant to us, and I couldn’t even begin to do him justice.

But Courtney could. And she did here. (I’m warning you, have the tissues handy.)

I woke to this moving post yesterday morning and the tears started falling. And kept coming throughout the day. I had to stop and ask myself why this was affecting me so badly, after all, he really belonged to Mom and Courtney. But then as I let myself stop and ask that question, I realized.

Saying goodbye to Zeus was saying goodbye to a time in our life. A time that was hard and scary. And he represented the start of something new and good in our family.
It brought up some old wounds, a lot of old feelings and emotions. Things that while they’ve been dealt with and healed, are still tender and difficult to remember.
It was the day before Devyn started 1st grade. My baby, in all day school, for the first time. My heart ached and mourned as I realized this was just the start of allowing her to grow into her own person.
And how true it is that “the hardest part of loving is saying goodbye.”

Yesterday was a hard day. I was a mess of jumbled thoughts and emotions, crying over what was, what is, and what will be. How Courtney said goodbye to her best friend, I’ll never know. How my parents were able to drive away from Remuda Ranch and their sick daughter for months, I can’t begin to understand. How mothers can be happy for their children on high school graduation day, while their own heart is aching, I’ll someday find out.

I realize that it would be easy for one to close themselves up and protect their heart from such losses, and I can’t say that I would blame them. There are times, in the midst of heartache, that I’m half-tempted to do such a thing. But then I’d miss out on all the joy that life has to offer.

A joy that comes with watching your 6-year-old daughter find her name on a desk, the excitement in her eyes of setting up her desk with new school supplies, putting pencils and erasers under the lip of the desktop. A joy that comes with watching her greet classmates and her teacher with exuberance and delight.

Yes, I’ll take the goodbyes that come with loving because all the good far outweighs the pain.

Happy first day of 1st grade, Devyn Paige!

A Sister Vlog

2011-08-17T20:28:00.001-06:00

My Littles and Jon get a lot of face time on this blog o’ mine. And that seems appropriate since they’re my family and I, oh, live with them day-in and day-out.

But once upon a time, I shared four walls and a roof with another family. A mom, a dad, and three girls that have helped shaped who I am, whom I’ve fought with, cried with, laughed with, and who have turned into the best friends a girl could ever want. And I want to introduce them to you.

Christine, Allison (who doesn’t have a blog… yet), Courtney, and I have decided to do a vlog. Together. Oy vey. None of us want to do a vlog separately, but thought we’d all be a little braver doing it as a group.

We have no clue what we’re going to vlog about yet. But hey, if you have any suggestions or questions for us, please feel free to leave them in the comments.

Next weekend the guys are all going on a Bachelor camping trip with the future brother-in-law, so what perfect time than to congregate at our parents house with a glass of wine (or two) and do our first vlog together?!

This could be very entertaining…

Closet Hannah Montana Fan?

2011-08-17T10:19:00.001-06:00

She’s recently become a lover of all things music.

Family Fingers Are Crossed*

2011-08-16T00:50:00.001-06:00

*alternately titled “Why I’m Certain I’m Losing My Mind… And What I Intend to do About It” (Obviously that was a run-on sentence and way too long to put in the title field. Ha!)

And completely random fact for y’all, this is post #1,201. Yikes. That’s a lot of posting in almost six years, but I digress.

My mom’s been on my case lately. A lot. It turns out that my laid-back, go-with-the-flow attitude isn’t working for me as it once did. My lack of organization has gotten me in some trouble.

Case in Point #1: On our way to meet some friends for dinner, it was discovered that I’d left the debit card at home. We had to turn around, go home, pick up the debit card, before heading back on our way. We were about 15 minutes late.

Case in Point #2: A couple of weekends ago, we came down from the family cabin for our pastor’s retirement reception. We came down early with the intent to get dinner beforehand. But I’d left the debit card at the cabin. Yeah. My parents bailed us out with dinner.

Case in Point #3: We made plans with friends for dinner, only I thought we’d agreed that we’d text each other during the week to confirm. My friend understood it that we’d already agreed to dinner. Good thing we connected before they showed up and we weren’t there.

There have been lost keys, forgotten shoes, missed parties, unpaid bills, etc. Both Jon and Mom have taken to picking up after me, double-checking packed suitcases, and overall, babysitting me. Its awesome. Mom and I discussed many ways that I could start getting organized, and I realized that I could no longer afford to NOT write things down.

And that’s where Erin Condren comes in…

I’d been on the lookout for a day planner that was fun, colorful, easy to use, and most importantly, I wanted it to be personalized. I checked out the MomAgenda and while I’d been eyeing their products for years, I just wasn’t feeling it.

Enter Twitter and Erin at Blue Eyed Bride.

I read her post on her Home Organization Binder, and while I thought it a wonderful idea, its just too big of a task for this Mama. But I did happen to notice the little link to her day planner of choice and I clicked on it. I fell instantly in love.

Soon Twitter was all abuzz about the new planners, everyone checking it out, and mentioning their favorite patterns. And normally I avoid all things popular and trendy. (You can read about my weird aversion here.) But it was too late, the colors, the fonts, the patterns had already drawn me in. And when Plum District happened to be selling vouchers to Erin Condren at half-price, that’s when the life planners went viral. I grabbed a voucher and got the planner at a steal!

I won’t bore you with the drama that unfolded after a hacker erased her orders, nor will I tell you about my stalking the FedEx shipping site to see when I could expect my new best friend. But I will tell you that it finally arrived today.

Its beautiful…

One must have beautiful pens to go with a pretty new planner…

I have already entered birthdays under the Special Dates section. Note to family. Let’s avoid any more March birthdays, mmm… kay?

I’m loving the tabs, the pocket folder to keep track of important paperwork, and the zippered pouch that stores my pretty pens and the extra goodies Erin Condren tucked away. All so pretty.

Oh look… I was even able to use one of the included Wedding stickers to mark a special date. Its approaching fast, Alli and Brian!

So essentially, all of my family has their fingers crossed that this planner will actually do its job and help me get organized. But no one is more hopeful than I because its truly exhausting work being disorganized all the time. Its time to give organization a try.

PS If you want to see some other pretty life planners, head over to Meredith’s site for other links.

An Offer I Did Refuse

2011-08-12T02:21:00.001-06:00

When I quit my job of 10+ years, I was in quite a bit of shock. Even now, almost 15 months after the fact, I can remember what an emotional day it was for me. As hard as it was to leave, there was also no doubt in my mind that the right path had been chosen.

But 10 years is a long time to be with one employer, and some relationships have withstood the passing of time. I’ve stopped by the old office on occasion, showing off Ashlynn, seeing how everyone is doing, catching everyone up with us, etc. And while I love seeing everyone and there’s a bit of nostalgia when I step through the office doors, I still have nothing but peace about our decision.

However, two weeks ago I got the surprise of my life.

My former boss had contacted me about some web/blog design work for a personal event and I agreed to meet with her in person to discuss it. So we hugged, and chatted, and caught up with each other and the office. It was then that she asked if I’d be interested in working for them.

From home. Letting me choose how many hours per week. And at my own pace.

I sat there in stunned silence, a million thoughts running through my mind. None landing in any one place for too long. Until I was finally able to utter a coherent sentence. “Let me talk about it with Jon and I’ll get back to you.”

And talk we did. And prayed. And discussed. And sought advice.

It was, after all, any stay-at-home-mom’s dream job. Working from the comfort of home, choosing your own hours, and doing it all at your own pace. I’d dreamed of being offered a position like this during the last few years at that job. Something that would allow me to earn money, while at home with my Littles. But I’d long since resigned myself to the idea that it simply wasn’t an option.

I considered taking it, I really did. I wondered how it would work, how I could make it fit into my schedule. I debated with myself if I could logically find the time to fit in 10-15 hours a week. I thought about asking if I could wait until Devyn and Hudson started school in a couple of weeks. I was tempted by the idea of a steady paycheck again.

And then reality set in…

I’m already stretched too thin. I’m barely treading water between being Mama and Wife, trying to stay on top of laundry and bleaching the bathroom… again (What? Hudson’s a boy. And kind of gross.), trying to schedule appointments and play dates, etc. Not to mention, maintaining design deadlines. I couldn’t possibly find the extra hours that they wanted.

More importantly, I enjoy watching God show up each month. As I told Jon, I have been awed and humbled each time He’s provided extra work just when we needed it. Some will think that we were crazy to turn down such a steady paycheck, but I love allowing God the opportunity to meet our needs. And trust me, no one is more surprised than I that I feel that way now! Losing my steady income last year has done nothing but increase our faith in God, and I’m all the more richer for it.

I gave my former boss our decision earlier this week. And while I felt slightly sick to my stomach afterwards, I’ve had nothing but peace since. It was the right decision for us.

Even if it was a position that I’d once desired.

Wordless Wednesday*

2011-08-09T23:36:00.001-06:00

*Alternately titled… A Big Week For Our Family!

One for the Books, err, Blog

2011-08-08T00:46:00.001-06:00

Its been a while since I last updated this ‘ol blog of mine. I even joked last week on Twitter that it was gathering dust and spider webs. But as I told a friend, since I blog for myself, its nice to not feel the pressure to blog every day. I can take breaks whenever I want, and although this last break was unintentional, it felt good.

Truth be told, I just haven’t felt up to posting. I can’t decide if its because of summer or just feeling overwhelmed by life in general, that put this blog on the back burner. But we’ve had a number of things happen lately and I must document it. We could talk about why I’m positive I’m losing my mind… or why I chose to turn down the dream job for a stay-at-home-mom… or our recent weekend trip to the cabin… or the plans I have for Munchkin Land Designs… or getting not just one, but two, Littles ready for a new school year… or how I feel about Devyn and Hudson taking a small vacation without either parent…

But there is one more important than all the rest… it’s the day we as parents all pray and hope for… the privilege of bringing our young ones into God’s family. And we had such the honor with our Little Man on Saturday night. A night that will forever be imprinted on my heart as one of the top moments in my life.

It’s a topic that’s weighed heavily on my mind lately. I wondered when Hudson was going to start asking questions, questions that Devyn had already been asking for some time at this age. I prayed that God would grant me wisdom and insight into Hudson’s heart, that I would take advantage of the moments when Hudson expressed interest in Jesus, Heaven, or God. And over the past couple of weeks, he’s asked more questions, been a little more inquisitive, but I believed his salvation was still a ways off.

Imagine my surprise when on our way back to the cabin, after a goodbye reception for our pastor and his wife, that Hudson made the decision to ask Jesus into his heart.

We had WAY FM playing in the background, I was sitting in the backseat between Devyn and Hudson, while I tried to hush a crying Ashlynn. We talked about Collins (the child we recently adopted from Kenya through Compassion, another story for another post) and whether or not he knew about Jesus. We talked about Heaven, we talked about God, and then Hudson asked the question I’ve been waiting to hear, “How do you asked Jesus into your heart?”

I literally felt my own heart turn over in my chest. This was it, I knew it. We discussed Jesus dying on the cross for our sins, that we needed to ask Jesus for forgiveness for our own sins, and invite him into our hearts and be the master of our lives. It was a fine balance between explaining it in a way our 4-year-old could understand, but not diminishing the importance of the moment.

And I expected, he asked me to help him pray so “Jesus can live in my heart”. I asked if he wanted to wait until we got back to the cabin so Daddy could pray with us, but Hudson was not to be deterred. And so we sat there… in the back of the dark van, bumping along the dirt road, and prayed one of the most important prayers of his life together. From the moment we said “Amen” his little face shone with excitement and pride. Praise you, Father!

Its these moments that I’m completely overwhelmed and awed that God has allowed me the privilege of bringing these little ones to His feet and allowing them to make that decision for themselves. It’s a moment that defies words and one that I’ve prayed for from the moment I saw those 2 pink lines.

Welcome to the Family of God, Hudson Jonathan! Your daddy and I are so very proud of your decision to follow Jesus Christ. We pray that we’ll guide you and example for you a Christ-loving life until the day you can claim your faith as your own. You, my son, are an amazing little boy, and we know He has big plans for you.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-07-27T14:08:00.001-06:00

Munchkin Land Designs is 2 Years Old!

2011-07-25T05:15:00.000-06:00

I remember the heart palpitations and sweaty palms the day I actually hit publish on my first post for Munchkin Land Designs. It took a lot of pep talks and encouragement from the sisters and Jon to get me to actually open up shop. My sister, Courtney, was especially instrumental in helping me come up with a name and look for my design site. I am indebted to those who had confidence in me, when I did not.

Two years. Still a baby in so many ways, and yet I can’t even begin to wrap my head around all that has happened in these two years. I started out with a basic blog design package, fumbling my way through computer coding. With each design, I ventured into more complex coding and new design features. I never imagined that 200+ blog designs later, I’d be offering Wordpress and website design support. I have enjoyed being challenged and learning new skills.

I am humbled, so completely speechless, by the support of you all. Each client has entrusted me with a vision and allowed me the honor and privilege of bringing that vision to life. Thank you!

Click here for the giveaway…

Brief Moments

2011-07-23T20:56:00.001-06:00

After months of asking and wondering when she was going to lose a tooth, imagine my surprise when I looked in her mouth this past week and noticed an adult tooth coming in behind her baby tooth. This is new for me. In my experience, I lost my baby tooth first, then the adult tooth grew in. But apparently Devyn is going to do this backwards. The baby tooth is loose, but not quite ready to come out.
Jon, his grandpa, and Hudson went fishing yesterday. I love watching three generations of {insert last name} men going off to fish together. Grandpa even outfitted Hudson with his own tackle box, complete with Hudson’s name on it. Hudson was extremely proud of himself, and the 11 fish he caught. I’m not sure when it happened, but he somehow has turned into a little boy this summer.
Reagan, oh Miss Reagan. She is still adding the “a” vowel sound onto the ends of her words. Just tonight as I was changing her diaper before bed, she looked at me and said, “Ewwwww-ah.” She continues to be a handful and has even started a game with my mom; where Nana tries to cajole a greeting out of Reagan and Reagan just stares at her out of the corner of her eyes and keeps a poker face until she bursts into giggles.
And this one. The new developments are coming every day now it seems. At 7 1/2 months old, she’s decided that enough is enough and that she needs to be mobile like her siblings. Not only is she moving around with a hybrid of crawling and scooting, she’s also walking along furniture and across the room with the help of stools and push toys.

Life continues to move at a fast and furious pace.

I miss church.

2011-07-18T23:36:00.003-06:00

We missed church yesterday. Three of the four Littles were sniffling, sneezing, stuffy, and grouchy. We figured parents would appreciate it if we stayed home and kept them away from the other children. (You're welcome. Ha!)

But I miss church.

We’re at this stage of life when the slightest sneeze, fever, or cough will travel from one child to the next, until all four have shared the same germs. It would be manageable if they could all be sick at the same time. But each virus takes its time, usually a good two weeks.

And don’t get me started about the times when the fourth child gives it back to the first one. Again.

By the time a virus has moved through our family, we’ve missed about two to three Sunday services at church.

Yet even on the Sundays that we’re all healthy and can attend services, I still don’t get to sit and soak in the words and message that is being preached. Devyn’s asking for help with a pen in the kid folder, or Ashlynn is hungry or fussy or sleepy. I have one hand on the nursery beeper, waiting to see if Reagan is actually going to stay in her classroom, and the other hand on Ashlynn’s blanket and pacifier just waiting for the first peep out of her mouth.

The last time we were in church, two weeks ago, we had just sat down after worship and I was getting ready to soak in some Truth, when the beeper went off. I sighed. As I headed to the classroom, I could hear Reagan’s screams from the stairs. I picked up my sobbing, hiccupping, hot mess of a child (bless her heart!) and headed back up the stairs. I begged Reagan to be good during the service, even grabbing another kid folder so she could color with Devyn. Within minutes, it became obvious that this just wasn’t going to work. She is, after all, just two years old.

I took Reagan and Ashlynn with me, leaving Devyn with her Daddy, and set all three of us up just outside the sanctuary, behind glass doors. Hoping beyond hope that I’d still be able to catch snippets of the sermon. As I sat there, alternating between telling Reagan to stop running and keeping Ashlynn from crying, I grew upset.
I just wanted to hear a sermon. One sermon. Something that would feed me, that would speak to my soul, something that would sustain me during the week, something that would challenge me. Just. one. sermon, Lord. Is that too much to ask?!

Then suddenly I stopped.

I looked at my baby girl, sitting and watching her older sister run circles around the foyer, eyes wide and awed. I looked at Reagan, bouncing curls and infectious smile. And knew in that moment, that somehow my attitude was skewed. I wondered what they’ll remember from these early years at church… the impatient, short-tempered mama I’d become lately? Or a woman who closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and tried being an example of the very man she’d come to worship?

In twelve to thirteen years, when my youngest is getting ready to start middle school, I’m going to look at the overwhelmed, harried, exasperated young mom and smile in understanding.

And wistfulness.

Monkey Business

2011-07-17T23:59:00.001-06:00

I loved my last design. LOVED it. It will go down as one of my favorite designs of all time.

But I needed a change and as I pondered my new look, nothing inspired me.

Nothing, that is, until I started singing “10 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed”; a song that’s becoming a staple in our home to help coax Reagan out of a bad mood. The idea stuck and I made the mistake of mentioning it to the Littles.

BIG mistake.

From the moment I mentioned the monkey design, they were constantly asking me about it. They wanted to help me. They wanted to see it. They pestered me in the car, on errands, and used it to avoid bed times. “Mama, I can stay up and help you with the monkey design.”

Right.

The look on their face when I showed them the first draft was priceless. They started guessing who was who (can you guess which monkey belongs to who? The Hudson monkey is pretty obvious…) and then they gave me their seal of approval.

So without further ado… My 4 Little Monkeys.

Moments Like These

2011-07-15T22:42:00.001-06:00

These are the moments that make up for the hard times. Brother and sister, working together to roll out the sod for our new backyard. No fighting. No whining. Just having a blast and working together.

Moments like these make the hard work worth it…

A Numbered List…

2011-07-14T23:04:00.001-06:00

…because I’m truly incapable of putting together a coherent post at the moment.

I’m in a blogging slump. But I’ve been blogging long enough to know that a) blogging comes in waves, its usually feast or famine and b) summer is never a good time for blogging. Few people are reading, few people are posting. Everyone is out in the sunshine.
Hudson and Reagan have recently started an “a” vowel sound to the end of every word. I have no idea how or why this started but it cracks me up every time I hear “Daddy-a” or “drink-a” or snack-a”. I just don’t have the heart to correct them.
I’m not sure what’s up with this Colorado weather but I’m not a fan. Stop it. Stop it, right now. The hardest part is the humid! Seriously, at 10:00pm the other night, it said 80% humidity. I’m not sure when I moved to the midwest but I want my dry, Colorado heat back.
We’ve had rain/thunderstorms every single day for a week. Two nights ago Jon asked me to run down to the basement and close the windows. (He couldn’t, he’s still gimping around on a swollen ankle.) As I closed the window, I just happened to notice the baby rabbit that had fallen into our window well. What ensued next was a hilarious game of hide ‘n seek as we tried to capture the baby rabbit after we let it inside.
We put the baby rabbit in a container with some lettuce and left it in the garage overnight. And while I’d love to see we had only the rabbit’s best interest at heart and didn’t want to release her into a stormy night, we also wanted to show the kids the next day. Which they loved! When we let her out, she scampered off across the street. All’s well that ends well.
…or so I thought…
Later that day Devyn and Hudson found a baby rabbit in the bottom of our backyard pond. Hudson fished it out of the pond and Devyn tried drying it off with a towel… Obviously to no avail as the poor baby rabbit had already died from drowning. I was so upset; even more than the kids. Jon just thought I was crazy. I had to make him reassure me at least 10x that the rabbit that had drowned wasn’t the same rabbit we’d saved the night before.
Then today a third and fourth baby rabbit were discovered in a pile of rocks in our backyard. So apparently Mama Rabbit chose our backyard to birth her babies. I think she and I need to have a chat about what is considered a safe place to have babies. My choice would not include a backyard with window wells or ponds.
Of course, now Jon is really concerned about his amateur garden and protecting it from the rabbits. My main concern is protecting the rabbits from Jon. Ha!
And speaking of amateur gardens, I’m so impressed with Jon’s. Its our first year to have a garden and I’m sure the success of it has been solely based on the fact that I haven’t touched it. I tend to have a black thumb when it comes to all things with roots.
We’re just starting to enjoy the fruits of his labor. There’s lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers. Next year we’ll branch out with even more items, specifically more fruit. We’re feeling pretty organic right now, and kind of loving it.
This parenting stuff is hard. Really, really hard. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to throw in the towel this week. At one point I even turned to Jon and told him, “Well, six years is a good run. Whose turn is it now?” Sigh. I realize its this stage of life, but I’m exhausted and overwhelmed.
And yet there are peeks and moments that make me feel like its all worth it. Like when I watch Reagan playing peek-a-boo with Ashlynn, or watching Hudson and Devyn’s relationship really bloom into a strong friendship, or when I see Devyn help Reagan with a snack or drink. We’re going to be ok, its just a good, hard, long race.
We recently got away to Vail for a weekend with Jon’s brothers, his mom, and our sister-in-law, Holly. It was wonderful! And just what we needed! His mom got a 2-bedroom suite, with the living room and kitchen between the 2 rooms. You’d think we’d just granted the Littles every wish because they were so excited. Uncles, Aunt Holly, Grami, and a swimming pool?! All in one place?! They were beside themselves.
We took them swimming on Saturday; we put a life vest on Hudson and gave a floating ring to Reagan. The life vest gave Hudson some independence, while Jon was able to hang on to Reagan and pull her around the pool. At one point, Hudson swam over to Jon and grabbed his arm. Reagan sent him a withering look (seriously, I’m surprised he didn’t turn into a pillar of salt) and said, “Get. Off. My Daddy!”
This, my friends, is our Reagan.
In less than 2 weeks, I’ll be celebrating the 2-year birthday of Munchkin Land Designs. I can’t believe its been two years since I started designing blogs as a side business. I’m constantly amazed at the gift its been to our family. And to me. I feel so very blessed!
We’ll be celebrating with door prizes, gift certificates, and a grand prize. I hope you’ll hop over and join us.
I keep adding and deleting lines, which is a surefire sign that its time to call it good. I’m sorry for the long absence, hoping to get my blogging mojo back soon.

Until next time…

Chapter 3

2011-07-07T16:47:00.001-06:00

You can read Chapter 1 here and here, and Chapter 2 here.

Every few seconds, the swish-swish of the wipers brushed against her windshield but Jessica didn’t hear them. She was lost in her own thoughts, oblivious to everything but the road ahead and the thoughts turning around and around in her mind. It has been a good conversation with Mom and Dad, and while she may not have liked their thoughts and opinions on what was a very sensitive subject, she had been the one to ask them for advice. It irked her to know that, while said as innocently and non-threatening as possible, essentially her parents were siding with Rob and she knew there was a lot of truth in their words. She sighed, knowing that he was probably awake and waiting for her to get home to continue their earlier conversation. She hated it when they argued but the idea he’d suggested earlier in the day was threatening her safety net, and she had instinctively responded to protect her world.

As she turned onto their street, she checked her little ones in the backseat. While the noise of the windshield wipers had kept her thoughts going in a matching rhythm, it had also soothed her children to sleep. She laughed out loud as Emily’s head kept falling forward and as Wyatt was hunched over, almost in a fetal position. She often wondered how her children could possibly be comfortable enough to sleep in such positions. These trips to and from her parents house were so routine and so often that they usually fell asleep within minutes of leaving the driveway, no matter what position they were in. She pressed the button of the garage-door opener and turned into their garage. Jessica was trying desperately to keep the thoughts and emotions at bay; at least until her children were safely tucked into their beds and oblivious to the conversation she and Rob were sure to have.

As she lifted Emily into her arms, she looked up to see Rob in the doorway leading into the house. She gave him a slight smile, a gesture indicating a white flag of sorts. He returned the weary smile and she knew that he’d spent the day in agony over their fight too. It made her feel a little better, knowing that he suffered throughout the day too. He moved to the other side of the car and unbuckled Wyatt from his car seat. Without a sound, the two parents moved in unison to tuck their children into bed. At the foot of the stairs, Rob and Wyatt moved towards the nursery at the back of the house, while Jessica carried Emily up the steps to the pink, princess room.

Slowly she laid Emily under the covers and gently removed one sock and shoe, and then the others. As the twining feelings of love and protectiveness overwhelmed her, Jessica dropped on the bed next to her daughter. With a featherlike touch, she traced Emily’s blond eyebrows, her plump, still toddler-like cheeks, and her lips; Jessica kissed both eyebrows and inhaled the scent of Emily’s apple shampoo. She closed her eyes, remembering how she did this to Emily as a newborn, and wondered how time had passed so quickly. She smoothed a wayward lock of hair and stood up. “Please, Father, may she always know the love of her mother and father. May she always be this tender-hearted, this sensitive. And may you grant Rob and I the skills and knowledge to shape and mold her to use those gifts for You. She is a wonderful blessing, dear Abba, and I thank you for her!” She finished her silent prayer, kissed Emily on the forehead, and started for the door. She stopped short at the sight of Rob watching them from the doorway and again, she smiled that weary smile. They stood for a second at the door, both lost in their own thoughts of parenting and the gifts that they were blessed with.

Jessica silently shut the door and the two of them made their way down the steps to the kitchen. “Coffee?” she asked him, knowing that they were going to be up for a while. After a fight, their usual routine consisted of ice cream and coffee at the kitchen table while they discussed pros, cons, hurt feelings, miscommunications, and everything else associated with marital discord. He shook his head no at the coffee suggestion, “None for me. But I will take some of that Triple Fudge ice cream.” She laughed, feeling a little lighter as she prepared the two bowls. There was a sense of comfort as she prepared their ritual, knowing that no matter how bad the fight or how hurt the feelings, that they could always come to this and try to understand each other’s side.

As they dug into their respective bowls, each wondered who was going to take the first step. Just as Rob laid his hand across the table to cup hers, Jessica decided to let him make the first move, she’d already said too many hurtful things that day, better to let him set the tone for the conversation. “Jessie, I’m so sorry, I know I sprung this on you. I should have known better than to expect you to jump with excitement.” Jessica lifted her eyes and saw that his shimmered with tears, and hurt. And with that, all the walls that she’d built up throughout the day came tumbling down.

“Oh Babe, I’m the one that’s sorry. I can’t believe I accused you of making decisions behind my back.” Once the confession was purged from her conscious, she hurled herself into his arms. After both had cried and murmured their apologies to each other, they finally felt ready to tackle the real problem at hand. Jessica wiped at her watery eyes, and dug back into her ice cream, which was half melted at this point.

“Jess,” Rob ventured, hating that he wanted something so much, yet knowing how much it was going to hurt his wife. “I had no idea they were even looking at me for this promotion. I’m just as surprised as you are.” Jessica turned her head, as if trying to ward off the sudden chill that went down her spine. “Please,“ he continued, “won’t you at least think about it?”

Jessica raised sad eyes, “But Rob, California? Are you serious? You know I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else but here. This is home. This is where our families are, this is where we met and married. I can’t even begin to fathom living any where else.” With each word, she could see the hope in Rob’s eyes growing smaller and smaller; she hated herself for it but the thought of living so far away ripped at her heart.

“Just think of the possibilities though, Jess. I’d be getting a huge raise, one that would allow you and the kids to fly here every other month for a visit. I’d be challenged again… You know how bored I was getting in this job; I was resenting the morning commute. Heck, I started resenting my boss and you know that’s not me! This is an incredible opportunity for me… for us. Just think of the vacations and experiences we’ll give Emily and Wyatt.”

Jessica felt her love and patience conflicting with the anger that threatened to spew forth. “Yes, let’s talk about Emily and Wyatt,” she said. The bite of her words belied her quiet tone; her temper threatened to tear loose. “Do you really think they’re going to care 10 years from now about the vacations they took? Or the fact that they lived where grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins could love them on a daily basis?” Rob reeled back, as though Jessica had physically reached out and slapped him. Daughter, you know not what you do. Remember, child, a gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. Jessica cringed, regretting the words the minute they left her mouth. She didn’t know why she was acting this way; she’d already decided to give Rob the benefit of the doubt on her drive home.

Yet it didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want to do this; with every fiber of her being, she wanted to stay here, near her sisters, her parents, their friends, their church, and everything that was familiar to her. The conversation with her parents drifted into her head and the words of truth of her mom had spoken. “Jessie, you are my hard-headed one, my passionate one. I know this going to be hard for you, and for us; the thought of you, Rob, and my grandbabies so far away hurts my heart. But I’ve got to trust that Rob is doing what’s best for you guys, not to mention that there is an incredible God-plan in place.” Jessica had chuckled to herself. God-plan - a word their mother had made up a long time ago to discuss anything that God was doing in their lives.

She again crossed to her husband, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” She paused and with a silent plea for strength said the very words she knew Rob needed hear. “Let’s go over the details, I’m sure California is going to be a great adventure.” And when Rob answered with a joyous whoop and wrapped her in a bear hug, she knew that she had said the right thing. With that, the two of them sat at the kitchen table until the early morning making plans to move across the country; Jessica sat with a heavy heart, while Rob spoke with excitement in every word.

-----------------------------------------------

Abby and Kyle drove home in silence, Kyle with his fists clutched tightly on the steering wheel and Abby staring out the side of her window thinking how appropriate that the rain matched her mood. Dinners at her parents used to fun, used to be something that she looked forward to, but lately, every time she was around Jessica and her niece and nephew, she was reminded that her womb lay empty. She leaned her head against the window, everything in her hurt. She thought she should be used to this by now, but each month the pain seemed to get worse and worse.

Kyle played with the stereo, trying to find a station that wouldn’t send Abby either into a rage or into tears. Usually they listened to the local Christian station, but as of lately, whenever a song came on promising fulfilled prayers or hope through Jesus, Abby would snap it off, muttering something about “easy for them to say” or “just empty words”. And so Kyle did his best to keep things as smooth as possible. He was concerned and wondering how much more of this she could take. He’d suggested going to a specialist but Abby was having none of that. “My mom and sister had no problem conceiving, why should I?” she wondered. She was determined to ride it out but with each passing month, their hopes of conceiving without help grew dimmer, and her heartache was that much stronger.

He laid his hand on her knee, hoping to bring her back to now, to him, so they could discuss it. She jerked in reflex, not wanting to be touched. “Abby, please, let’s talk about this,” he countered, trying again to touch her. As if resigned, she let his hand stay on her knee but still she refused to answer him, turning once more to the rain falling outside. Kyle remained silent the rest of the way home, hoping that Abby knew he was there, that he was willing to listen when she was ready to talk.

The two of them silently got ready for bed; Kyle watched as she took the thermometer and laid it by the alarm clock on her nightstand. He hated the wretched thing, and had tried to convince Abby on more than one occasion that it wasn’t needed, or to at least try a cycle or two without it. But like all Cooper sisters, when she’d made her mind up about something, there was little that could change her mind. Kyle turned on the nightly news while Abby finished her routine in the bathroom. The newscaster was talking about the local sports team that was being projected to go to the World Series when Abby finally made her way to bed.

Neither said a word to each other as the TV was turned off and as Kyle turned on his side to draw her into his arms. It was only then did he feel the heaves of her sobs and feel the wetness of her tears on his arm. “Oh Ab,” he cried, as he laid his head on her back. “I hate what this is doing to you; what it’s doing to us.” He held on tightly as she continued to cry and only when her sobs began to subside, did Abby feel his own tears through the back of her shirt.

She turned around until they were face to face on their pillows; Kyle’s tears were just shimmering in his eyes, while her tears had left streaks on her cheeks. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips; she responded by holding on to him. “I just don’t understand,” she whispered. “We’ve done everything right. We’ve been faithful to God, we go to church every Sunday, we tithe, we were both virgins on our wedding night, we’re strong Christians, heck, you’re an elder in our church! I don’t get it Kyle, where is our heart’s desire?”

He moaned as he laid a kiss on his wife’s temple. “I don’t know Abby, I don’t have any answers. I just gotta trust that there’s a reason for this heartache. Maybe God will use it someday to help others… I just don’t know.” He paused, afraid to suggest what he’d been thinking for a while now. “Maybe we need to take a break. Maybe a trip to Mexico, or skiing in Colorado, maybe we just need something to take our minds off it for a while.”

Abby shut her eyes, afraid to take a break, but wondering if Kyle was right. She wasn’t sure how much more her heart could take. By taking a break, would she be telling God that she no longer had faith? She couldn’t fathom not trying, for two years she had scheduled their lives around the days she was most likely to conceive and now Kyle was asking that she throw all of that to the wind. She shivered, as a chill swept her body, “How long would it take to schedule a trip to Mexico?” she asked.

She could feel the relief in his body. “Give me a week to finalize details and we can be there in two to three weeks,” he said. He was so happy that she was open to the idea, and grateful that he’d already been in touch with their travel agent a week earlier. His plan to whisk her off to the place where they’d honeymooned was going smoothly. And he was even more excited at the idea that the thermometer, the third wheel on weekend trips and vacations for years now, would be left behind.

As Kyle started drifting off to sleep, Abby’s mind was racing. She hoped she’d be able to block out the pain and fear that was her constant companion; she wondered if she’d even be able to enjoy such a trip when all she wanted was to hold a baby, their baby, in her arms. When Kyle started snoring, Abby turned on her side to face the wall. She knew she was facing another sleepless night imagining the what-ifs of her life.

-----------------------------------------------

Brooke left her parents house earlier than the others, she’d brought along her textbooks and planned to stop at her favorite, all-night coffee shop to put in a few hours of studying before her first class the next day. She smiled as she pulled into the parking lot; after three years this place had become a second home in the midst of papers, exams, and the heartaches of growing up. She grabbed the books from the passenger seat and pulled her backpack off the floorboard of the backseat. She was anxious to get into the warmth of the shop and settle into one of the high backed, overstuffed chairs that were plush and welcoming. She slammed the door to her silver Saturn shut and made her way to entrance, trying to shield her hair from the rain as much as possible.

When the ding of the door sounded, Sammi, the matronly owner, looked up from her spot at the counter and waved at Brooke. Brooke smiled in response and dumped her books on the nearest chair. With a smile on her face and a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she made her way to order her usual drink. “What’s up, Sammi?” she asked. Sammi turned from the counter where she was preparing Brooke’s drink. “Not much… did you just come back from your parent’s house?” she asked.

Brooke smiled, “Of course. It was good to see them, especially since I won’t be able to make it back home for the next three or four weeks. Besides, I gotta get my auntie-fix.” Sammi made her way back to the cash register and leaned her elbows on the counter, as if to settle in for a chat with a long-lost friend. They discussed Brooke’s family, Sammie’s daughter, and Sammi was anxious to hear her thoughts about the Campus Crusade seminar that had taken place the day before. Sammi was always one for sharing her love of Jesus and felt that the coffee shop was a great ministry to the young students on campus. Brooke couldn’t have agreed more.

Just then a crowd of young freshman walked in and Brooke sighed, knowing that her conversation with Sammi was going to be cut short. She handed her payment for the drink and settled into her seat to learn more about the anomalies of animal DNA.

She became so engrossed in the subject that she didn’t even see the guy sit in the chair at the table next her. Nor did she notice his furtive looks and the fact that he was trying to get her attention. Brooke had always been one to become engrossed in whatever she was reading, to the point that her family joked that the house could burn down around her and she’d never notice. She missed seeing the guy’s Adam’s apple bob up and down in nervousness as he thought about starting a conversation with her but before he could act she put down her book and grabbed her cup for a sip. Over the rim of her cup, she noticed intense brown eyes staring at her and she absently looked down to see if she’d spilled something on her shirt.

“Hey, I’m Logan,” he said and stuck out his hand in introduction. Brooke was taken aback, guys rarely approached her and often without the confidence that was radiating from Logan’s eyes. She smiled in return and held out her hand. “I’m Brooke. Do you go to school here?” she asked. He laughed a slow, rumbling laugh. She wondered what she’d said that was so funny.

“Not really, I graduated a few years ago, so I’m no longer considered a student… which is a relief.” She laughed in return, easily understanding why someone would be happy to done with the strain and stress of school. He indicated her book, “I see that you’re still going though.”

She shrugged, unsure of what kept her interest in the conversation. Holly often joked that Brooke found more interest between the pages of a book than in the male species; and most admirers were let down in five minutes flat. “Yes,” she responded. “I got one more year to go.” She intended for that to be her closing line and to return back to her books but Logan was having none of that. “Then what?” he asked.

“Then what… what?”

“Then what do you plan to do?” he persisted.

She sent him a look, one that said she highly doubted he really cared what her plans were after college but she decided to indulge him. “Then I plan to get married, have five babies, and become a soccer mom.” He laughed boisterously at her sarcastic remark, loud enough that others in the coffee shop looked up from their own studies. She looked around, wondering why she was still sitting there in conversation with a virtual stranger.

“Not you, Blue Eyes. That doesn’t fit you at all.” She lifted an eyebrow, both in surprise at his audacity of being so familiar with her that he’d give her a nickname and disbelief that he’d chosen a nickname that her parents had given her so many years ago. She leaned forward,

“What makes you so sure of that?”

His eyes twinkled back at her, “Because I think there are other plans for you.”

She shook her head in frustration, she knew that. She already knew that God had other plans for her, but they’d yet to be formulated or finalized in her own mind yet, let alone being ready to talk about them with a complete stranger. “Ok, Logan, who-used-to-be-a-student-but-is-thankful-to-be-done, what are you doing right now?”

He smiled, a very charming smile if Brooke was to be honest, “Well, I’m currently one of the adult leaders at Campus Crusade.” Her eyes lit up in recognition and Logan saw it instantly. “I was wondering if you were going to recognize me.” She nodded, a bit speechless at the moment. She and Holly had seen him at one of the first Campus Crusade meetings of the fall semester but hadn’t seen him since. Holly swore a huge crush on him and Brooke laughed in response at her boy-crazy roommate.

Logan continued, “I see myself there another year or two but then I have bigger plans.” She smiled, urging him to continue. As he described his plans for his future, Brooke was reminded of a discussion he’d led last semester about the mission field being in their own backyard. At that time, she’d nodded in agreement with everything he’d said and had even gone back to her apartment to write some of his key points in her journal. She still referred back to those notes on occasion.

One hour turned into two hours, which turned into three, and Brooke and Logan still sat in their chairs discussing Campus Crusade, their thoughts on what God was doing on the campus, and learning about each other’s families. The whole time Sammi watched them out of the corner of her eye. They were both favorites of hers, strong young things who knew what they believed and weren’t afraid to stand up for it, no matter the cost. She often thought they would have made a dynamic couple but had left it alone, God always knew better than she anyway. How funny that He would see fit to bring them together in her shop. She chuckled to herself, “You’re a crafty thing, aren’t you, Lord? This will be a beautiful thing to play out, don’t you think? Thanks for the front seat.” And with that, Sammi returned to spot behind the register, loving the sound of two voices rising and falling in conversation and laughter.

Fireworks, Cookouts, and Parades

2011-07-06T10:28:00.001-06:00

This 4th of July started off much like last year’s… rushing around the house trying to get everyone dressed and ready for our town’s parade. Family friend, Drew, invited the kids to participate in the parade and the Littles jumped at the opportunity. The difference being that this year, I got to go to the parade instead of having nursery duty at church.

The original plan had the 3 older ones riding in the truck with Daddy and Drew, waving and throwing candy to the crowd. But as soon as we got there, Reagan changed her mind. Then she changed her mind again when the truck was actually in front of us, mid-parade. That’s when Jon’s dad ran Reagan to the truck and deposited her next to Devyn and Hudson. Sigh. Only my Reagan.

We live in Small Town, USA. It’s a one stoplight town, population > 6,000. We just received our first McDonald’s and the lines are 5-6 cars deep in each lane. I never imagined myself as a Small Town Girl. But its really growing on me… Especially when everyone turns out in red, white, and blue to watch a parade that consists mostly of fire engines, vintage cars, and tractors. It just screams America and apple pie.

The rest of the day was spent at my parents house, and while it was a smaller gathering than what we’re used to, it was so very nice. We gorged on hot dogs, steaks, and burgers. There were deviled eggs, homemade potato salad, pasta salad, fruit, veggies, and strawberries dipped in white chocolate and garnished with blue sugar… a la Courtney. We attempted to recreate the delicious martinis we had in Washington, but those were epic fails. Courtney finally managed to concoct something that was similar and drinkable.

I got misty-eyed watching my dad and Hudson play a game of catch. I know Dad’s been waiting for that moment for 31+ years. I adore seeing him as a Papa.

Then my aunt showed up with a cooler full of water balloons (the woman is a genius when it comes to knowing how to entertain the Littles) and full-fledged water fight ensued. No adult, no child was safe. Once the water fun was over, we all gathered out front to watch the fireworks that my dad and father-in-law bought across the state border. Fireworks from across the state border = more than likely illegal fireworks and lots of fun. Whatever.

Then it got dark and we got comfortable on my parents back deck to watch the firework display that the country club puts on every year. There’s no need to travel to crowded parks when we can watch from the comfort of my parents house. Its quite the display too!

All in all, it was a wonderful, wonderful holiday.

Where We’ve Been…

2011-06-30T19:40:00.001-06:00

The last few days I was pretty silent on the Twitter and Facebook. Jon got this bright idea in his head that I needed to stop telling the internets that our house was empty and thus tempting the burglars to ransack our house. So we I didn’t tell anyone that we were invited on an impromptu camping trip with some friends.

It was great to get away, despite the fact that Mandy and I have decided that about 3 days is all we can handle in a campsite. Despite the fact that there 6 Littles ages 6 and under… not counting the one that Mandy is currently baking. Despite the fact that the mosquitos were the worst I’ve seen in a long time. Despite the fact we were skunked while fishing. Despite the fact that we ended the trip with a visit to Urgent Care to find out that Jon had a hairline fracture in his foot. (Don’t ask…)

I kid, I kid. (Except for that last part, that really happened.) It was a great trip! It involved fishing and riding bikes, walks and moose hunts (the Littles have a great imagination), flower picking and smores, camp fires and naps. I’m so happy we got away for a few days and nights. And it was especially wonderful to get away with such dear friends.

I saw this on another blog the other day and HAD to steal it and share it here. It made me chuckle because so much of it, is SO true!

I love the mountains. I love the cool nights. I love, I LOVE my Denver Broncos. I love the snow. I love the 360 days of sunshine a year. I love Colorado beer. I love the people...I love it all. Which is why I am never ever going to leave...

I like:

That we put the heat and the A/C on all in one day.
That people here actually know what a '14 er' is (and I like you even more if you have climbed them, like yours truly).
That we are are able to drive 65 miles per hour through 13 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without even flinching.
That April Showers bring May Blizzards
That when we go to visist our friends at sea level, we can have a case of beer without even getting a buzz.
That we know where the real "South Park" is.
That most of us have gone skiing in June and golfing in January.

We have no recognizable accent.
We voted for higher taxes to fund Coors field, but voted down taxes for public transportation.
We have broken windshields.
We have people with business degrees who are frying burgers at a McDonald's in Vail.
We own big dogs named Aspen, Buck, Cheyenne or Dakota and they sleep in our beds.
We cast out our fishing line while white-water rafting.
We are meat eating vegetarians
We can use "checking for ticks" as an excuse to get someone naked.
We get a certain feeling of satisfaction from knowing that California and Texas are both downstream
We know the elevation of a town, but not its population.

I just love Colorado for a million reasons...

Ditto.

Just Fishing

2011-06-24T11:00:00.012-06:00

Jon and I were flipping through the channels and settled on CMT for a bit. We saw a preview of Big and Rich's movie debut in the Footloose remake. (Side note. Very sexy dancing. I told Kenny Wormald and Julianne Hough to get a room.) Other music videos came on, we paid them little attention. They mostly provided background noise while Jon and I talked about our plans for the day.

Then Trace Adkins song, Just Fishin' came on and we both stopped. I watched as a little girl stood next to this big bulk of a man, on the side of a river, fishing together. As the lyrics brought a smile to my face, I exchanged a look with Jon. And I got it. I finally understood the point of all his fishing trips. Whether its by himself, with the brothers, his dad, Grandpa, and now his own Littles, its not about the fishing. And my heart was lost to him again. I know I got a good man.

JUST FISHIN'
Trace Adkins

I'm lost in her there holdin' that pink rod and reel
She's doin' almost everything but sittin' still
Talkin' 'bout her ballet shoes and training wheels
And her kittens
And she thinks we're just fishin'

I say, "Daddy loves you, baby" one more time
She says, "I know. I think I got a bite."
And all this laughin', cryin, smilin' dyin' here inside's
What I call, livin'

And she thinks we're just fishin' on the riverside
Throwin' back what we could fry
Drownin' worms and killin' time
Nothin' too ambitious
She ain't even thinkin' 'bout
What's really goin' on right now
But I guarantee this memory's a big'in
And she thinks we're just fishin'

She's already pretty, like her mama is
Gonna drive the boys all crazy
Give her daddy fits
And I better do this every chance I get'
Cause time is tickin'(Yeah it is)

And she thinks we're just fishin' on the riverside
Throwin' back what we could fry
Drownin' worms and killin' time
Nothin' too ambitious
She ain't even thinkin' 'bout
What's really goin' on right now
But I guarantee this memory's a big'in

And she thinks we're just fishin'
She ain't even thinkin' 'bout
What's really goin' on right now
But I guarantee this memory's a big'in

And she thinks we're just fishin'
Yeah, aww, she thinks we're just fishin'

We ain't only fishin'
(This ain't about fishin')

Chapter 2

2011-06-23T07:05:00.002-06:00

You can read Chapter 1 by clicking here and here.

Aubrey was chopping peppers to add to her fajitas and singing along to the golden oldies playing in the background. She had changed after church and was dancing around the kitchen in denim jeans and a soft, green fleece top. Thomas leaned against the doorjamb as he made his way in from the garage. He’d intended to go straight into the study and shoot off an email to his old college friend, Neil, but the sight of his wife’s wriggling hips was a view he didn’t want to pass up. He raised an eyebrow when Aubrey tried hitting a high note with Gloria Estefan. Not the best he’s heard but Aubrey loved singing, whether she was good at it or not.

Unable to resist the hips any longer, he stepped behind his wife and pulled her into his arms. Aubrey showed just a hint of surprise and then laughingly joined him in some salsa dance moves. They’d taken dance lessons for their 18^th wedding anniversary and both agreed it had been a wise investment and had probably even saved their marriage. They wowed family and friends at wedding receptions and occasionally snuck out to a local dance club on Salsa night to spend the night dancing and flirting. It brought a flame back to a marriage that had grown mundane and tired. Thomas was forever thankful that God had used such a simple thing to bring new energy to the most important relationship in his life, especially before he’d made a tragic misstep.

Gloria’s song ended and a commercial break began. Laughing and a little breathless from the dancing, Aubrey threw her arms around his neck, careful not to knick him with the paring knife that was still in her right hand. Thomas brought his head down and rested his forehead against hers; a familiar stirring started in his gut and he felt her heartbeat accelerate to match his. She lifted her face just an inch higher and the two were soon caught up in a passionate kiss. “This,” she thought, “is everything to me. How did I get so lucky?” As Thomas deepened the kiss, Aubrey was taken away by the depth of his passion for her. 32 years later and she knew that Thomas still desired her as he’d had when they first married. Soon the kitchen faded into the background as Thomas and Aubrey focused on the moment.

Suddenly the back screen slammed against the house and Thomas groaned against Aubrey’s lips. “I thought they’d all moved out,” he growled. She gave a shaky laugh as the kitchen righted itself again.

“Yes, Handsome, but its Sunday and you invited everyone over for dinner, remember? Besides, our door has always been an open door.” She pecked his lips and returned to her place at the counter. He leaned over her shoulder and answered, “Yes, but now I’m going to have to hide in the study until my temperature has cooled.” He grinned into her blue eyes, “Why do you have to be so sexy?” And with that he bounded up the stairs and disappeared into the study.

Aubrey smiled to herself and selected another red pepper from the pile. Brooke made her way into the kitchen and draped her long legs around a kitchen stool. Aubrey looked at her youngest daughter and as always, was jolted at how her daughter had grown into such a beautiful woman; long and lanky, curly, long blond hair, and a dimple in the corner of her right cheek. But the amazing part was that Brooke was just as beautiful on the inside too, and very unaware of her outside beauty. Brooke leaned across the counter, gave her mom a quick squeeze around the neck, and then noticed the red tinge to her mom’s face.

“Mom, you’ve been making out with Dad again, haven’t you?” she teased.

“Pshaw, Brookie, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aubrey responded. It was a well-rehearsed bit, one that had been perfected over years of use. It’d started when Brooke was in junior high and had walked in on Aubrey and Thomas locked in a passionate moment in the middle of their kitchen. It wouldn’t have been so bad except that Brooke brought home a school friend with her and like all thirteen year old girls, was sure she was going to die of embarrassment on the spot.

“Yes, you do; check out the red on your cheeks! It must have been some kiss!” While Brooke had been embarrassed in that moment; it was later, in the privacy of her bedroom that her friend had told her she thought it was cool her parents still kissed like that. “It must mean they actually like each other still,” the friend had said. And then, in whispered tones, her friend confided that she wished her parents still acted like that, instead of the constant fighting she heard day-in and day-out. At the moment, Brooke realized how lucky she was to have parents who still loved each other. And maybe, just maybe, the kissing wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Aubrey cleared her throat, as if to rid herself of the embarrassment, and then decided to give Brooke a sly wink. “The man can kiss, what can I say?”

“Oh, Mom! I don’t want to hear about it.” Brooke pretended to be disgusted at the idea of her father being a good kisser, but secretly knew she wanted what her parents had… someday, maybe.

“How was the drive down?” Aubrey asked. The state university was over two hours away and while it killed her to have her baby that far away, she realized how lucky she was to have all three daughters within a two-hour driving radius. A lot of her friends had children and grandchildren scattered all over the country. The thought of her babies, both grown and young, being that far away made her sick. But she wasn’t naïve enough to think it would always be that way; she realized that she might have to face that reality someday.

“It was good; the roads were pretty wet from the melting snow but it was a good day for a drive,” Brooke answered. She’d inherited her mother’s desire for empty roads and a full tank of gas for her thinking times. She leaned in and snitched a pepper from the cutting board, laughing as Aubrey shot her a disproving look. “Mom, you should have been at the university yesterday. Sean Pickler was amazing; I never thought I’d see a state campus so on fire for God. I mean, when I look back at my freshman year… It’s like it’s a completely different campus.” She paused. “Do you remember when you dropped me off on the first day? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so shocked.”

Aubrey grimaced at the memory. “I wanted to bundle you up, put you back in the car, and vow never to let you step foot on a campus again. I was literally afraid to step foot in your room, who knew what stuff had seeped into that carpet!” It was true, the state university was nationally known for its liberal and partying ways. It was definitely not the ideal place for their precious, innocent baby, but any time she or Thomas tried to deter their youngest from attending, Brooke dug in her heels even more. And in the end they realized that their time was done, it was now up to Brooke to stay the path they hoped she would. Aubrey continued, “I can’t tell you how many times your father and I have been on our knees to pray for your time there.”

Brooke nodded; never did she doubt her parents’ faith to God and their promise to pray for their children. She was certain their prayers had saved her more than once in her 22 years. She leaned her elbows on the counter and tipped the stool onto two legs. Before long, mother and daughter were engrossed in a conversation about the best-selling author and his view on the Christian life. It was a conversation between two adult woman, each of who respected the other’s opinion, and colorful in explanations or rebuttals. Each challenged the other and more often than not, the younger deferred to the older who was wiser from both age and experience.

Car doors slammed outside and moments later a little voice could be heard from the entryway. “Hey, where is everyone?” four-year-old Emily demanded of the house. Thomas was already making his way downstairs, anxious to greet his young granddaughter. He swept her off the floor and placed her on his shoulders. “Hey, little one. Remember me?” he asked. She giggled and placed a kiss on the top of his head.

He turned toward the door as his oldest struggled to enter the house with the diaper bag, baby carrier, and coats, all on her arm. He moved forward to help and grabbed the baby carrier from her hands. Jessica flashed a thank-you in her smile and moved the rest of the way into the house.

“Where’s Rob?” Thomas asked as he unbuckled Wyatt from his seat.

Jessica sighed and placed everything in a heap on the chair in the living room. There were a lot of emotions in that sigh and she exchanged a look with her father. “Not now,” her eyes seemed to say and gestured at Emily sitting atop his shoulders. “Daddy had to go to work, didn’t he, punkin?” she informed Thomas as she gathered Wyatt into her arms. “He might stop by later.”

Jessica kept her tone light to maintain a sense of normalcy for the sensitive Emily, but Thomas had been Jessica’s father for 30 years and knew there was more to the story than she was letting on. Thomas gathered both daughter and baby into his arms for a hug. Jessica snuggled into her father’s arms and placed her head on his shoulder. No matter how old she got, nor how many responsibilities she had as a parent herself, there was something so strong and reassuring about her father’s arms. Wyatt squirmed, not liking the close quarters of a three-way hug… four if you counted Emily.

Jessica looked her father in the eye, still amazed how identical the shade of their eyes matched, “Thanks Daddy, I needed that.” She jostled Wyatt on her hip and joined her mom and sister in the kitchen. Thomas forced himself to relax, knowing Emily would pick up on the smallest stress, the slightest change in demeanor. He heard Brooke coo over her baby nephew and Aubrey’s laugh as she coaxed Wyatt into her arms. He swung Emily around until they were face-to-face, “Ok, little one, what’s the plan until dinner?”

She gathered his face between her palms, leaned in until they were nose-to-nose, and in her pixie voice said, “Checkers. I’m going to beat you at checkers.” His heart melted into a puddle right there on the floor and before he could gather it back up, she was leading him up the stairs to the study.

-----------------------------------------------

Dinner was chaotic, as it always was when they all gathered together to share a meal. Abby and Kyle had arrived moments after Jessica and the kids; Abby congregated in the kitchen and Kyle helped Emily strategize in beating Grandpa at checkers. The two made a strong team and Thomas admitted defeat several times before dinner. They waited as long as possible for Rob but when he didn’t arrive, they gathered around the table to enjoy the Mexican feast Aubrey and the girls had prepared.

Topics varied from political to religious to celebrity gossip and back again. Emotions ran high and opinions were strong. The Cooper family was a passionate bunch; Thomas and Aubrey had done their best to instill in their girls a strong sense of self and it had paid off, in spades. All three women knew her heart, knew her passions and her opinions, and fought fervently to be heard. When the girls were teenagers, there were countless times when Thomas and Aubrey stepped in as referee, and forced the girls to “take a break”. They cried bitterly over hurt feelings and misunderstandings but always managed to come back for round two. And all three were stronger for it in the end. Every once in a while when a word was said strongly or there was a rise in voice, little Emily would glance up fearfully. A comforting smile from Mom, Nana, or Grandpa was all she needed to relax again. And surprisingly Wyatt always slept through the entire thing.

As their girls discussed the need for a new governor or whether the current governor should be given a second term, Thomas and Aubrey exchanged a look over the heads of their family. Both were amazed and awed at how far they’d come since their first date all those years ago. This was theirs, their blessing from God, the legacy they were leaving to the rest of the world. They vowed never to take this time, this family for granted; it had happened once before and both were determined to never let it happen again.

As the dinner ended, the girls started clearing the table and taking the dishes and conversation into the kitchen. Kyle grabbed Emily and Wyatt and headed for the TV in the other room, whispering something about a movie and a nap. Soon the sounds of Belle singing of her love of books filled the silence of the dining room and Aubrey knew that Kyle’s eyes were probably already closed while Emily sat transfixed in front of Beauty and The Beast. Aubrey rose from her chair and crossed the room to Thomas. She laid her hand on his head and bent to kiss his graying hair. “God is good, isn’t He?” she whispered in his ear.

He nodded, and searched her eyes, knowing she’d see the concern there. “Yes, He is, but I can’t help but wonder if Jessie and Rob feel the same way. Did you notice the hurt in her eyes?”

Aubrey nodded and tried swallowing the lump in her throat. “She wants to stay later than the others to talk about it. I told her it would be fine.” She paused, afraid to ask. “Do you know what’s going on?”

He shook his head, “No idea. Rob has seemed distant and restless lately, but I just assumed he was overworked. ” Aubrey nodded in agreement and opened her mouth to respond when the sound of raised voices reached her ear. She sighed, “I’d better get in there before they kill each other. You’d think they would’ve outgrown this by now.”

Thomas laughed the deep laugh that meant he found something hysterically funny. “If they weren’t snapping at each other, then we would have cause for concern.” And as if on cue, all three girls started giggling, the previous argument obviously forgotten. He pulled Aubrey into his lap and there she stayed for the duration of the kitchen cleaning. The sound of magic characters coming from one room, the camaraderie of three sisters coming from the other, and in-between both, the quiet prayers of a couple turning to their God for answers.

Wordless Wednesday - Stop Growing Edition

2011-06-22T06:02:00.000-06:00

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

A Midsummer Night's Swap

2011-06-20T08:29:00.008-06:00

Sarah, Malisa, and I have put our heads together to come up with a fun summer pick-me-up. After some brainstorming and numerous email exchanges we have come up with A Midsummer Night’s Swap! We think it would be a lot of fun to swap things that we would use on a summer night among all of the fun bloggers out there.

HERE'S HOW IT WORKS:
1. Become a follower of one of our blogs that you are not already a follower of (if you don’t already follow all of us):

Jenn – www.biggest-blessings.com
Malisa – www.sanityinsmalldoses.blogspot.com
Sarah – www.dandelion-chronicles.blogspot.com

2. Fill out the form and submit! You must submit the form by July 5.

3. Leave a comment below to let everyone know you are participating.

4. Grab our A Midsummer Night’s Swap button below, and tell your friends / fellow bloggers about this fun summer swap! Blog about it, tweet about it, put it on Facebook and even put the button on your side bar! The more the merrier!

AFTER JULY 5TH
1. By July 9^th you will get an email from one of us giving you information on your swap partner. We will mix and match people from all of our blogs. Get to know your partner by going to their blog and emailing one another.

2. Go shopping to find an item that you would use on a summer evening! We have come up with some examples to get you started:

Grilling sauces
Corn on the cob handle things
Citronella candles
Small tiki torches
Outdoor lights
Napkin rings
Fun plastic or disposable plates
Picnic blanket
Ice cream scoop
Ice cream bowls
Tablecloth/placemats
CDs with songs that remind you of summer
Kabob sticks
Marshmallows, chocolate, graham crackers for s’mores
Scents that remind you of summer

Please, don’t spend more than $20 on your swap item.

3. Mail out your swap package by July 18th.

4. When you get your package, blog about it! Be sure to link back your partner and show us a picture of your fun gift. Also - come back to our blogs on July 25th to link back up and show others what you got in the swap.

Yes, I have everything under control. Why do you ask?

2011-06-16T15:39:00.001-06:00

This is my life.

It consists of herding 4 Littles through the grocery store, leaving as little damage as possible in our wake. I consider it a successful trip if I make it through one grocery shopping trip without raising my voice more than five times. Seriously.

Usually Reagan will be in the front part of the cart, Ashlynn in her sling or Beco carrier, and Devyn and Hudson walking beside me. I even ran into a former coworker once with that very set-up and she looked at me with complete pity. I’m here to tell you, I might look crazy and frazzled (and I probably am), but secretly I’m doing ok. Probably even loving it.

Today I left the Beco at home, and we went to the new grocery store so OF COURSE we had to take the cart with the car in front. And Devyn NEEDED to try out the mini-carts (genius idea, by the way!). I was stopped numerous times by other patrons wanting to know if they were all mine, to tell me how busy I must be, to ask the kids if they were being good helpers, and was told that I have a beautiful family. “Thank you,” I reply. “I think so too!”

About 3/4 of the way through our shopping trip is when things started going downhill. We were playing musical chairs from the car part of the cart, to sitting next to Ashlynn, to driving the mini-cart. My eyes were wide as I whispered to the kids to stop running the cart into the backs of my legs, I jiggled the key chain to keep Ashlynn from full-fledged crying, and apparently I wasn’t paying to attention to Reagan in the car.

I smiled pleasantly as a group of about five Grocery Store Executives In Suits walked towards me. It was my way of trying to fake as though I had everything under control. A façade that came to a crashing halt when one of the suited men whispered, “You know she’s eating an opened package of hot dogs, right?” and pointed to the 2-year-old girl.

I gasped and moved to the front of cart, looked down into a pair of blue eyes round with innocence, just as she stuffed another bite of hot dog in her mouth. I turned red. Bright red. And began to apologize profusely. Just then one of the executives moved to stand next me, camera in hand, and bent down to encourage Reagan (demolished bag of hot dogs in hand) to smile for her close-up.

One thing I learned today… Its nearly impossible to discipline a child for bad behavior with five grown men in suits cooing and laughing at how adorable she is.

Sigh. I have no doubt this is just a taste of things to come with our Reagan.

Chapter 1 (continued)

2011-06-14T09:15:00.001-06:00

You can click here to read the 1st part of Chapter 1. In the future, I’m just going to post whole chapters, even if it does make for a LONG read.

Thomas walked into the kitchen to find his wife, Aubrey, seated in the breakfast nook. In their 35 years of marriage, he known that he’d find her with a bible propped open on the table before her, a cup of steaming coffee at her elbow, and her eyes closed as she was lost in prayer. He absently brushed a hand over her rich, mahogany hair before going to the counter to pour his own mug of coffee. He leaned against the counter and watched his wife over the top of his mug; it never ceased to amaze him that Aubrey had agreed to spend her life with him. Oh, he knew she wasn’t without faults, but watching her in this way, knowing that she was bringing her concerns to their Lord morning after morning, well, it was a huge motivation for him to do the same. She was an amazing woman.

As if sensing his thoughts, Aubrey lifted her face and her striking blue eyes met his gray ones. She smiled contentedly, raised her arms in a stretch, and rose from the table. Thomas watched as she closed her bible, her journal, and then placed them on the top shelf of the pantry. Aubrey was a creature of habit, something she’d adamantly deny. Every morning was the same, like clockwork. Just like Thomas knew that her next move was to stand beside him at the counter to discuss their plans for the day. She leaned in and settled into the crook of his arm, the place that he always felt had been designed just for her. He brushed his lips against her forehead and he gave her a squeeze. He remained silent, knowing that something was on her mind.

She turned to the sink and rinsed out her empty mug. The view of the bright blue sky above her kitchen sink drew her attention. There was still a good seven inches of snow on the ground but the forecasters were calling for temps in the mid-fifties. In the middle of February, those numbers were unheard of and it was predicted that records would be broken today. She knew she’d wander outside some time today; maybe for a walk to enjoy the conflicting sensations of cold under her feet and the warm air on her face.

She turned back to her husband and the problem that was clouding her mind. “I’m worried about Abby,” she said. Thomas nodded, willing her to continue.

“Something’s wrong with her, Tommy. I just know it; I feel it. I was praying this morning, and God laid her so heavily on my heart. I don’t know what I’m praying for; I just know that she’s not doing well.” She sighed. She knew that God had given her a gift of prophecy; a gift that she’d honed and mastered at God’s hands. She was never able to predict the future, she just experienced feelings and time had taught her to pay attention to them. While she knew that she could count on God to bring her middle daughter through whatever valley she was traveling, she worried nonetheless. Such was the plight of a mother.

Thomas reached for Aubrey and pulled her into a close hug. “Aubrey, I know. I see the haunted look in her eyes, as you do. I feel like she’s barely treading water right now.” When Aubrey started to pull back, Thomas pulled her even closer. “Abigail was always our private one, the one who held things close to her chest. Let’s trust that she’ll turn to God and Kyle for whatever she needs and in the mean time, you and I can be on our knees for her.” He paused. “Do you want to pray now?” he asked.

When Aubrey nodded her head against her chest, Thomas led them into communion with God. Aubrey felt the weight lift from her heart; never did she feel closest to Thomas than when they went to God together. She listened to the soothing cadence of his words, nodding in agreement with him on trusting the Lord with their daughter. At the end of it, they both whispered “Amen” and ended it with a squeeze, as though offering one another strength.

Turning back to the day at hand and with a twinkle in her eyes, Aubrey teased Thomas, “Come on old man, take me for a drive.” It was a past time that they’d often enjoyed together; driving on a clear day, allowing themselves to get lost on the back country roads. She gave a sassy smile, one that transformed her into the young girl he’d fallen in love with, and with swaying hips, she left the kitchen; the keys to the convertible in her hands.

He looked after her, chuckling to himself. She was a riot, that woman of his, and so much fun. The smile fell from his face as a troubled feeling settled in his stomach. This feeling had been around for days, weeks if he were to be completely honest with himself. He knew God was preparing him for something, of what, he didn’t know. He pulled back his shoulders, as if to brace himself from whatever may come his way. It was no use dwelling or guessing what it might be, whatever it was, he would handle it with God’s help and with Aubrey by his side. They’d been through trying times in the past, and they’d gotten through them together. Why should the future be any different?

“I’m waiting,” she called to him from the garage.

He moved from the counter, grabbed his driving cap, and knew he’d have to fight Aubrey for driving rights. It was going to be a gorgeous day.

A New Perspective

2011-06-13T10:46:00.001-06:00

Several weeks ago Jon went to the store to buy some milk and cereal because we’d run out. He came home with a pained look on his face, and sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh. The grocery bags at his feet. I was about to berate him for not taking the bags into the kitchen, but the look on his face stopped me. It was the look of a man who’d been given a wake-up call. And before I could ask him if everything was ok, he proceeded to tell me about his shopping trip.

He’d gone in, put the things we needed into the cart, even adding a few items we didn’t need. He made his way to the front and got into a checkout line behind one other woman. As he loaded the conveyer belt with our groceries, he couldn’t help but notice the few items the woman had. A 1/2 gallon of milk, some bread, some other very basic items. As the checker rang up her groceries, the woman was counting out change. It soon became apparent to Jon that the woman was using every last penny to pay for the groceries. He even overheard the woman tell the cashier how bad she felt about raiding her children’s piggy banks that morning.

The total came up on the display and the woman’s face fell. It was more than what she had with her, and as she started making the decision about which items to take out of the bag, Jon leaned forward and gave her the rest of what she needed. She thanked him profusely, telling him that it would come back around, that he’d be blessed for that small gesture. She even went so far as to apologize for the circumstances that got her into this situation. None of which Jon wanted to hear, even telling her none of it mattered to him. She thanked him once more and out the door she went.

After he finished his story, he reached over and gave me a huge hug. “Jenn,” he said, “I forget how rich we really are…”

I don’t tell you this story to toot Jon’s horn or brag about something Jon did, because quite simply I have no doubt that many of us would have done the same in that situation. I share it because I have not stopped thinking about this story since it happened.

I can’t tell you how many times I resent the fact that our bank account balance isn’t higher… Or how anxious I get every time a new doctor’s bill shows up in our mailbox… Or how much easier our lives would be if we could just buy x, y, or z. There was one day in particular where I’d paid a hefty medical bill that resulted in draining most of our savings account. The anxiety washed over me and I can’t begin to describe the feelings of defeat that I felt. But then Jon’s story came to mind and in an instant a peace came over me.

I could continue focusing on the things we didn’t have and I will always end up feeling like I can’t measure up. Or I could focus on the things we have been blessed with and feel like one of the richest women in the world. And you know what? I am. We have full cupboards and fridge, we have a roof over our heads and place to lay our heads at night, we have running water and heat and room to run. We are so very rich.

Its amazing what a difference in perspective can do for the soul.

A Little of This and That

2011-06-12T23:35:00.001-06:00

It’s been a long while since I’ve written an actual post, and since this is my journal of sorts, I have a lot to catch up on. Please bear with me as I inundate you with a ton of nonsensical updates.

I can’t believe I’m the last to write about our trip to Washington, but I am. Kudos to Courtney and Kelsey for getting it up the week after we got back. I also need to confess that I borrowed pictures since I didn’t even take my camera.

It was an incredible trip. I really don’t think I can do our girls weekend justice with words. I will say that it was one of the best weekends of my life! A weekend in which we were able to be as open, vulnerable, and transparent with someone that you’ve usually known a lifetime. But truth be told, I have always felt like I’ve known Amy my entire life. It was crazy to see how much alike Kelsey and Courtney were; Kelsey would say something and it was déjà vu since Courtney had likely said the exact same thing in previous conversations.

The night before we left for our trip, Courtney’s husband, Jeremy, prayed that God would bless our weekend away as sisters and He truly did. Courtney and I have come a long in a way in our relationship and we have never been closer than we are right now. Courtney, thank you for the wonderful Christmas gift (and birthday gift… for the next 10 years) of our weekend away. It was such a blessing! PS Thank you for the beautiful pictures, Andi!

I have updated the Munchkin Land Designs Gallery with 15 new designs. I’m currently working on 4 designs, and have another 6 designs coming up this week. I am humbled at how God has blessed me with this business. Its been a wonderful creative outlet for me, while allowing me to bring home some extra income for our family.

But truth be told, I’m no longer a stay-at-home-mom and would be more aptly described as a working-at-home-mom. And while I’m grateful for the opportunity, it brings with it a whole new set of struggles such as balancing time with the kids and corresponding with clients or figuring out the best times to work on designs and still get stuff around the house finished. Currently I work on designs during nap time and after kids go to bed. So far its working for us, but there are times I fail miserably on either side of the spectrum.

Devyn and Hudson were in a wedding this past weekend. It was the wedding of Jon’s cousin, Tim to a beautiful woman named Amy. I met Amy at the family cabin a few years ago and fell instantly in love with her. She is so beautiful, warm, and genuine. As I called it when Brock brought Holly home, I knew Amy was Tim’s “one” by the time we left that weekend. They are so beautifully matched, similar in so many ways. They’re both artists; Tim is a musical artist (you can check out articles here and here and here, a truly talented man) and Amy is currently in art school. And they are both middle children. So suffice it to say, laidback and easy-going is an understatement when describing these two.

We were honored when they asked Devyn and Hudson to be in the wedding, especially since Tim was a musician in our wedding and his younger brother was one of our own ring bearers.

Armed with the requirements of a gray tie and yellow sundress, they were ready to do their jobs. This is the 3rd wedding they’ve been flower girl and ring bearer in two years, and they finally got the hang of it. At Courtney and Jeremy’s wedding, Hudson spiked the pillow at the end of the aisle. At Brock and Holly’s wedding, Hudson didn’t even make it down the aisle. But at Tim and Amy’s wedding, they did a magnificent job. And I’m sure it had NOTHING to do with the goodie bags waiting for them at the end of their walk. Pure genius, Miss Amy, pure genius.

There’s so much more to catch up on, but Miss Ashlynn has fallen asleep next to me, while sitting up no less. If that’s not a clear call for bed time, I don’t know what is…

Wordless Wednesday

2011-06-08T07:10:00.000-06:00

Chapter 1

2011-06-06T07:10:00.000-06:00

To read the why behind posting this (very) rough draft, click here.

She could hear the squawks from the baby monitor. They were invading her dreams, a very sweet dream which involved a beach, the blue of a calm ocean, and her own little servant. Juan, her servant boy, brought her a new drink whenever the cup carrying the mango-concoction emptied. It was warm, relaxing, and, in a word, divine. Suddenly the crying was calling her from her tropical haven and she opened a bleary eye, trying to decide between chucking a pillow at the monitor or just snapping it off. Before she could choose, an arm snaked around her middle and drew her close.

“Jessie,” came her husband’s sleepy sigh. “Do you think Wyatt would notice if we went back to sleep for a couple of hours?” he asked.

Jessica smiled to herself, a bit humored at the idea of 10-month-old Wyatt having to fend for himself. Surely Emily would be up soon and could take over the care of her brother. Doubtful at the ripe age of four, but she could dream, right? Rob’s arms pulled her closer and she could feel his body begin to relax as he started to doze off again. This was nice, this place between sleep and awake. She treasured their Saturday mornings when Rob got to sleep in and they could rest awhile in bed together.

Just then Wyatt’s whimpers turned into actual cries and she knew it was just a matter of time before those turned into actual screams. She poked Rob with her elbow, “1-2-3… not it!” She loved the idea of returning to slumber and letting Rob handle the little guy. Rob snorted, “You cheat! I wasn’t even fully awake.” She gave a saucy smile and turned back on her side, having every intention of returning to her tropical slumber. Suddenly she was flipped onto her back; she found herself nose-to-nose with her husband and staring into intense green eyes. He lovingly flicked her nose, “Cheaters never prosper.” And with a bounce of the mattress she watched her long-legged husband head out to answer Wyatt’s cries.

She listened to her husband murmur comfort to Wyatt and Wyatt’s answering giggles through the baby monitor. He was such a good dad. He never took their children for granted and always wanted to help in any way he could. She was blessed, of that she was certain. Soon Wyatt and Rob were making car noises together; crisis averted now that Wyatt’s diaper was dry and he had his dad’s attention. Jess breathed a quick prayer of thanks.

She heard the patter of little feet coming down the stairs and knew Emily was up for the day too. She listened as Emily settled herself in the nursery, and bombarded her daddy with question after question. They’d hit the “why” stage again and rarely did an answer pacify Emily’s curiosity. Yet Rob answered each question patiently, all while playing with Wyatt and keeping him occupied. Jessica sighed, knowing that the morning had started whether she was ready for it or not. She threw back the covers, grabbed her robe off the hook, and tied the belt as she made her way to the nursery to join her family.

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Abigail, Abby to family and friends, fumbled in the dark for the little stick that she knew was resting on her nightstand. Her mind barely registered the movement; it had become so routine to stick that little thermometer in her mouth before she stirred from bed. And as habits go, it mattered not that it was a Saturday morning. Rain or shine, weekday, weekend, or holiday, it was the first thing she did every day.

She waited for the little beep, indicating that her temperature had registered. She sighed, careful not to wake her sleeping husband. It was such an irony; this was the time in her cycle she hated, yet she couldn’t stop taking her temperature each morning. She analyzed each rise and dip of the temps; read into every twinge or pain; wondered whether or not this cycle might be the “magic” cycle for her and Kyle. She heard the beep and squinted in the early morning light, barely making out the digits. Her heart fall as her mind registered the drastic dip in temperature.

Her positive, optimistic side wanted to continue to hope. “Maybe it’s an implantation dip,” she thought. The other side, her cynical side, sneered. “Of course not, you twit! You know what that temp drop means; this cycle is over, and you now it!” Abby let the two sides battle it out while she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She now knew that the cramps she’d been feeling the other day were not signs of an impending baby, as she wished every month, but those of her monthly cycle. She double-checked to see that Kyle was still sleeping. She didn’t want to waken him just yet; ignorance was bliss, especially in moments like these.

She padded into the bathroom, determined to face the day with as much optimism as she could muster. This was going to be a hard day, and she should know, she’d been facing this kind of day for two years now. When she wiped, she saw the faintest tinge of pink, marking the official end of the twenty-fifth cycle of trying to conceive a child. Abby closed her eyes and leaned her head against the side of the counter; her heart broke for a second time that morning and she felt it as physically as she felt the edge of the counter digging into her forehead. The tears sprang hotly to her eyes and she did nothing to stop them from coming. She needed this time to mourn another lost opportunity of becoming a mother.

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Unaware of the turmoil her sister was facing, Brooke was making her way across campus with her roommate, Holly. The two friends were anxious to get to the conference that their local Campus Crusade was putting on for the day. The conference was featuring a young author whose book had recently reached the best seller list, surprising since it was a book focused on igniting a new generation of Christians. Both Brooke and Holly had read the book, studied it in their small groups, and both felt challenged in their Christian walks as they had not been for years. It was exciting to see what God was going to do on their campus this morning, and in the months to come.

Holly was not one for waking before 10:00 and felt that 8:30 in the morning was an inhumane way to spend a Saturday morning. Heck, she often didn’t wake until 15 minutes before she had to be in class. She yawned her way through their conversation. “What do you mean he wants to “take a break”?” she asked of Brooke.

Brooke shrugged her slim shoulders and burrowed her hands deeper into her coat pocket. “I knew things had been off for a while, I just assumed he was stressed out with applications for graduate school. I had no idea that he was thinking about breaking up.”

Holly arched a perfect, auburn-colored eyebrow and answered with a slight, “Hmmmmm.” She never did care for the guy that Brooke started seeing at the beginning of the fall semester. By all accounts, Jason Reed seemed like the perfect catch; a pastor’s son from a thriving church on the east coast; the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome; he led a bible study in his off-campus apartment; and had pursued Brooke for a whole year before she gave in and started dating him. Holly’s perception of Jason was that he seemed a little too smooth, a little too full of himself for the likes of Brooke, but she’d kept her opinions to herself. Holly hooked her arm through Brooke’s, “Oh well, Brookie, it’s his loss, you know.”

A shadow slipped into Brooke’s eyes, Jason’s rejection was hurting more than she cared to admit. There seemed to be more to the story than Jason was wiling to let on but Brooke’s trustful nature wanted to take his words at face value. “Brooke, its not you, the timing just stinks right now. I’m up to my eyeballs in school work and if I want to get into the graduate program back home, I have to concentrate. You’re too much of a distraction.” All of this was said with regret on his face and a kiss on her hand. She’d smiled at him, assured him that she wasn’t upset, and left his apartment. She’d planned on going back to her place but decided that a movie was just what the doctor ordered. And there in the dark theater, sitting by herself, Brooke allowed herself to shed some tears about a lost relationship, one she wasn’t even sure she’d wanted in the first place.

Brooke and Holly walked the rest of the way in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts and opinions of Jason Reed. When they reached the steps of the campus’ auditorium, their thoughts turned back to the day’s agenda. There was an excitement in the air, coeds were chattering among themselves and calling out to friends that were joining them for the day. Holly dashed off to visit with a friend from her anatomy class and Brooke shook away the memories of the night before. She’d been looking forward to this conference for months and nothing, not even Jason, was going to ruin her time today. She had a feeling that God was about to do some amazing things in her life.

…to be continued…

Putting It Out There

2011-06-05T18:35:00.002-06:00

A couple of weeks ago our pastor gave a sermon on whether or not we were being obedient to God's calling on our life. As often is the case with babies, Ashlynn was particularly fussy this Sunday morning, and I was relegated to the area outside the sanctuary. My attention ping-ponged between Pastor Jim's words and entertaining Ashlynn. But let me tell you, the words and message that I was able to grasp were a sucker-punch to my gut.

I'm fairly certain I know what God's calling on my life is and I also know that fear keeps me from obeying it. Fear of failing, fear of rejection, fear of being wrong. And its this fear that keeps me from even trying.

I've been sitting on this sermon for weeks. The words rolling around and around in my head as I grappled with myself and with God. And I feel it might be time to take some baby steps with what I feel is God's calling on my life.

Tomorrow I'm going to start posting sections of a book I started writing a couple of years ago. I'm doing this for a couple of reasons. One, I'd love your feedback on my writing. Seriously. I need it. I'm not intending to publish this story, but I think the experience will be good for me. And two, I need accountability. I can't tell you how many books and stories I've started, never to finish. Putting this out on the world wide web is going to give me the motivation I need to finish it.

Truth be told, I'm a little sick to my stomach as I get ready to share this part of my life. Its probably one of the most vulnerable parts of me and this will be the biggest audience to date I've shared my writing with. Up until now, only family and trusted friends have read my stuff. So I ask you to be kind. Please be honest, but kind as you do so.

*Gulp* Here goes nothing...