Mama needs coffee

I just had my personal best, most epic coffee spill.

I was sitting at the table, chair pulled in and everything. I should have been good, you know?

But then, my teething baby bit my leg.

He bit. my. leg.

I jerked, knocked over my cup, then watched a full (but luckily only warm) cup of coffee (I drink out of a REALLY BIG mug) cascade down my front, all over my jeans, and SHOWER over Benjamin's head. And as another example of how I shine in times of crisis, I sat there and watched, mentally gauging how hot the coffee was and what I should do if it burned him while I watched my precious coffee drip from the precious eyelashes of my precious baby.

One of my children (not sure which one, but someone who is obviously better at crisis management) brought me a towel before I was even out of my chair.

Benjamin was fine. Mad, but fine. He is particularly hostile right now about getting dressed and undressed, so I think that was his main complaint.

So. Benji has had a bath, we are both in fresh clothes, and I'm off to make another pot of coffee.

Maybe my favorite holiday.

I love New Years.

The holiday season flies by at the speed of light, stress and angst at every corner.

In October, there's Halloween, in which the part of me that grew up Southern Baptist can never be comfortable celebrating, and the part of me that is a health food nut can never be okay with the candy consumption. But we jump in with both feet, costumes, trick-or-treating, candy and all.

In November, there's Thanksgiving, in which I feel the need to prove my domestic fabulousness, even though I'm the only one who really gives a rip, and my kids don't like anything but the turkey and dinner rolls. Oh yeah, and try to remember to um, be THANKFUL and stuff. But we count our blessings at least twice, three or four times if I'm really on top of it, and I try not to feel too guilty about whichever family we're not with this year.

In December, oh, it's a DOOZY! In December, I try to manage our budget while simultaneously buying or making a thoughtful gift for every single person we know, feel guilty about the not-thoughtful gifts, try not to give in to the stress of imperfections in the thoughtful gifts, forget to make dinner, forget to buy food in general, feel angsty about the whole Santa thing, forget to even PLAN a gift for at least three people, second guess the plan... And yell at my husband a lot for not being psychic. Oh yeah, and teach my children that WE LOVE CHRISTMAS because JESUS! YAY JESUS!

Dude. Here's why I love the new year:

Tomorrow, life will be boring.

For a couple months, we will work on re-establishing a rhythm. I will forget a bunch of minor holidays and shrug it off. Sometime in February, all the stuff we've been working on since August will start to come together. I will take deep breaths.

The days will start to get longer. Flowers and trees will bloom. I'll be able to find God in the slowness of not trying to make everything perfect for celebrations he never commanded anyway. Every New Year, I remember what faith feels like. What hope and optimism look like.

A New Year. Welcome, 2013.

Thankful

This Thanksgiving, the blessing that stands out to me most is the gift of exceptional friends. While my friends have always been amazing, recently, I feel that we have turned our attentions to spurring one another on to holiness so much more than happiness.

Thank you, ladies. For helping me grow, for demanding it. For not being content to stay the people we are, but also for loving, unconditionally, the people we are. For turning my eyes to Him.

I am thankful for you.

Because I want to remember

I'm not sure that anyone else would ever be interested in this list, except, perhaps women who may also wish they could remember. These are things I never want to forget, but know that I will:

The feel of my slimy baby as they put him on my belly after his birth, that moment when he squirms on the outside of me, all slippery, and I reach down to hold him, so that he won't slide right off. So tiny, skinny, warm.

The first time he eats, he knows just what to do, though actual skill is not there yet. And he calms. Exactly as he's been designed to do.

The way his feet are completely soft, no calluses, yet.

Probably my favorite thing about a newborn, the way he opens his mouth to catch me when I kiss his cheeks. He shakes his head back and forth like a baby bird. I always miss it when they grow out of that.

The way he stops, mid panicked-cry or frustrated grunt, when he latches on to eat. As though the angst never happened.

His body, curled tight, his feet pressed against his shins.  At two and a half weeks, he's already beginning to stretch out and relax.

When I lift him in his sleep, and he arches backward, with his tiny fists pressed against his cheeks and his lips pursed, knees pulled up high. The tiny grunts and groans at the unfairness of being moved.

We swaddle him, and he takes two ragged breaths, then calms.

The way, those first few days, he looked so much like his big brothers, I would forget who I was looking at.

The songs that play in my mind whenever i hold him, Beautiful Boy by John Lennon, Love You Up to the Moon by Kim Hill and the Christmas song, Sweet Little Jesus Boy.

A conversation with the big kids before he was born, as I waddled around the Yukon to our front door, about how Mary would have felt, sitting on a donkey for days, how long it took to travel, how she could not have walked, and the impatience at the end of a pregnancy.

His absolute assurance that my body exists to meet his needs, and my occasional sadness for babies whose needs are not met.

How his eyes sometimes cross when he tries to focus on things.

The peace and absolute contentment when he falls asleep curled against me. So tiny. And he knows he belongs there.


His breath. He has the most beautiful, sweet-smelling breath.

Every once in a while I catch glimpses of the expression that will become his smile. It's thrilling.

Random Thoughts

This is totally random, but last night I made chicken noodle soup, partly because my sweet girl wasn't feeling well, and partly because it was a rainy, gloomy day. I accidentally over salted it. Not a ton, but enough to give it more of a kick than it should have. Here's the thing: all day long, I crave salty stuff. SALT! And I am thrilled to pieces with my too-salty soup! I ate so much at dinner last night that I made myself sick, and the next hour or so will tell if I've done the same with the leftovers today! And score! I'm totally getting tons of veggies, lean chicken and homemade broth (simmered overnight for maximum benefit) and SALT! Also, the gloomy weather and disapproving look of my midwife is making me crave coffee in the middle of the day. 'Cause I'm a rebel.

Today I'm attempting to create our new budget.  There has already been one panicky call to the husband to ask, "why are you making LESS money than before we left two years ago?!" And the answer, of course, is TAXES. Gag.  The thing about budgeting when we move a lot is that each time, the things that are covered, reimbursed, or considered a normal living expense, change. Then you factor in state taxes, changes in commute length (fuel), and the things you don't necessarily see, like a thriving garden that means we don't have to buy produce for six months of the year (unfortunately, we did not make it part of our deal with the landscaper that he would plant and maintain a garden indefinitely... must make a note of that....).  So here I am, putting my ever-changing puzzle together again and praying that none of the kids need shoes for the foreseeable future :)

Note to Grandma: As of this writing, everyone has enough clothes.  Just sayin'.

(although Brenna could use some dress shoes)

Speaking of clothes, because of the wonky timing when we moved home, we arrived on a Tuesday, and that Sunday, Brian left for a week in Omaha. While he was gone, I was hanging up his shirts and felt inspired to count them, as it seemed there was an unreasonable number. 55. FIFTY-FIVE! Add to that, we had not yet done laundry from the trip home (came home to a leaking washing machine. woohoo!) and of course, he had a weeks' worth of shirts with him on his trip. All told, I'd guess he has 70 or 75 shirts. And at least half have his company logo on them, because they really like to give out shirts. I suppose if everyone stopped drooling, pulling, grabbing, and otherwise mangling my shirts, I might have somewhere close to that number... or not. I think I have about ten. All but one of them are stained. Poor me. Anyway, the point of this (there really is one, I promise!) is that I tried to find tutorials for repurposing men's shirts and could only find a couple, nothing that really struck me. So if you know of something cool (like I remember, years ago, coming across a little girl dress tutorial, but couldn't find it) I'd love a heads up!

So my son is officially getting to the age where he notices me doing things that are weird.  Luckily, I don't think he's embarrassed per say, but oh, it's coming! One of those recent ones is how often I ask my kids "Y'all ready for this?! Dunh, duh dunh duh dunh dunh duh!" And Nathan looks at me like I'm possibly insane. I keep having flashbacks to my mom dancing, I'm pretty sure with the sole intention of embarrassing me, in clothing stores that played rap. I'm pretty sure I know what my face looked like now... and why she kept doing it!

And so I'll leave you with this fine piece of entertainment:

My Best Mother's Day Yet

Yesterday was wonderful. But not for the usual reasons. You might get an insight into my insanity here, so sorry if it's too much transparency... you can stop reading if you want!

I woke up, or, was woken up, at some time that started with a six.  Anything that starts with a six does not get to be considered sleeping in. I woke up to the combination of REALLY LOUD WHISPERS! and a toddler crawling over my head to sit at the top of my pillow. I knew that I was not suitably perky and gushy while I opened my gift of chocolates and a gift card for a pedicure, although I'm pretty sure if I'd had coffee first, I would have done a lot better.

After giving the smily-est and gushiest thanks I could manage, the offspring all disappeared downstairs to make breakfast, while I laid in bed a bit longer. I came downstairs a few minutes later to absolute chaos.

Brian had planned a beautiful breakfast. Waffles with strawberry-blueberry sauce and whipped cream, eggs, coffee and orange juice. The only problem? He didn't know how to make the fruit sauce or the whipped cream, and he had three kids trying really hard to help, and the dog, well she just wants to be where the action is, right?

Now, my husband is really, really good at a lot of things. Math. Science. Building things. Cleaning really thoroughly. Multi-tasking? Not so much. He was already frustrated and starting to panic, so I asked if I could help.

I delegated jobs to the kids and helped, and breakfast was put on the table, and we all sat down to an excellent meal in short order.

Now here's where I get all transparent on you. A couple years ago, in a random conversation, Brian told me he thought he could do my job just as well as I do it; this being a stay-at-home parent thing. That was the most hurtful thing he's ever said to me. It makes me cry now just to think of that moment, and how devalued I felt.

Logically, I know he was thinking of the list of things I do. Laundry, dishes, cleaning, cooking, etc. Absolutely, he is capable of doing all of those things, and doing them well. It doesn't take any special skill to run down an itemized list, and tick things off. 

It was the things he can't see, and no amount of explaining can communicate. I teach these kids. Completely apart from homeschooling, I'm teaching them life skills, manners, how to related to each other, how to think for themselves. All those chores on the list? I'm teaching them those, too. Being a parent is so much more than keeping children alive and entertained while simultaneously doing the dishes.

And then there's this: I am constantly, CONSTANTLY assessing each of my kids.  What do they need to know? What comes next? What needs focus now, and what is a  non-issue? Where do I teach, and where do I let them figure it out on their own? And the answer is different for each one, each time.

This is my calling. And I think I do a pretty decent job of it. I wouldn't ever presume I could excel as an engineer because I can build furniture from Ikea. That's how it felt.

I should say that Brian is no slacker parent. He loves our kids to the depth of his soul, and they know it. He plays with them, he disciplines them, he loves on them. But the day to day life? That's my arena.

So back to Mother's Day breakfast. We sat down, and a few minutes into our meal, when all was calm, and seconds were being dished out, I asked him if he still thought he could do it as well as I do (to be totally honest, I claimed a Mother's Day Prerogative!).

He thought for a moment, and said no. He said that trying to juggle several different dishes with three helpers and a dog underfoot... well, he couldn't do it.

While I know this little situation was just that, one little stressful moment in time, it was also a microcosm of my life. Spinning plates and teaching, all at the same time.

His acknowledgment changed EVERYTHING. 

What I do, it's special. It require skill and practice. I work hard to do it well. Sometimes I do it really badly!

And he sees it.

The rest of the day was beautiful. Even the parts that weren't perfect.

Mamas make mistakes too. Especially me.

This morning, at the encouragement of a friend, (hi, Nina!) I took the kids out for a Fun Day.  Fun Days are hard, because the day after the Fun Day is NOT FUN.  But Brian is out of town, and it's a beautiful day to be out and about, so I chose one of those paint your own pottery places.

Brenna and Isaac chose the exact same thing  right off, a train penny bank. Isaac has started the "train phase", so that was no suprise, but for Brenna to choose it as well surprised me. They got started, and had a blast, although Isaac gave up about half way through in favor of painting his arms instead.

Nathan meandered around the store.  Then he meandered some more.  He hemmed and he hawed, and finally I told him, "Nathan, if you don't pick something, you're going to lose the opportunity to paint."  So he chose an itty-bitty Christmas tree ornament.  Weird kid.  Thirty seconds later, when he was done with it, I told him he could pick another, and he chose a cute mug. They all had fun.

Afterwards, we went next door to a little cafe and ate lunch on the patio. Nathan was in such a goofy mood.  He was making faces at people through the windows and making the strangest comments.  He kept asking to run a lap around the large store/office complex we were in, and I repeatedly told him no.  I didn't get them drinks, because we had water in the car, so when he got thirsty and asked for a drink, I told him he could go to the car, which was within my line of vision, to get his water bottle.  Somehow he translated, "you can go get your water out of the car" to "you may run a lap through the very busy parking lot." 

I saw him walk towards the car... then he turned right...  then he disappeared behind all the other cars.  HEART ATTACK.  I grabbed Isaac and yelled for Brenna to follow, and of course Isaac spilled his chip bag and had to fuss, and Brenna had to make a big show of twisting her chip bag to save for later, and finally I got to the car, yelling all the while, but he was GONE. Isaac heard a flight of stairs callling his name, Brenna was doing a dance on the sidewalk, and I COULDN'T SEE NATHAN!

All of a sudden, I heard him calling me.  He was standing at the table we had just vacated. He had run a lap. And come back to the logical starting place when one does such a thing.  Oh, my word. Did that kid get a talking to.  I asked where he had gone, and he said he had run THROUGH THE PARKING LOT.  "Just down that row.  I looked both ways."

The talking-to recommenced. 

We covered LISTENING (he asked that I make sure he's actually listening next time.  I was like, "um, that's YOUR job, dude.  I can't make you listen!)

We covered locomotion through parking lots ("You NEVER RUN!  DO YOU HEAR ME?!  YOU NEVER RUN IN A PARKING LOT!).

We covered the relative size of six year old boys and cars.  He was inclined to argue that one.

Then we huffed our way into the car and started home.  On the way, I went through one of those intersections where there are two sets of lights, one right after the other.

I ran the second one. "SHOOT!"

As we pulled onto the freeway, this is what I hear from the backseat:

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who makes mistakes!"

"No, baby, you're not the only one who makes mistakes."

"Sometimes mamas make mistakes too!"

"Yes, mamas make lots of mistakes."

And from Brenna:  "Especially you, Mama!"

I have thoughts! On things!

Sorry, I'm pretty excited.  I've been traveling in a bit of a fog this month, with some depression, some doubts about my faith (I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to write a post about that), and of course, a lot of change within our family routine. That's been reflected in my blog by the lack of posting. I've pondered and pondered what I could write, and come up with... nothing. But in the last week or so, suddenly, ideas are coming to me, thank God. My thoughts are clearer, less cluttered. Less negative.

And here, I'm going to go straight into a totally taboo social topic.  Money. I might overshare, and if I do, I'm sorry. You all know I operate like an open book, and if you really wanted to know my husband's net worth, I would probably tell you! 

(Don't worry, I don't plan to thwart the taboo that much!)

(At the moment.)

I didn't tell a lot of people; I felt very self conscious sharing it, but in December, I had Lasik. Or, some Lasik, since there were problems that will hopefully be completely remedied this week.  We also got a dog. A designer dog. She was expensive; more than I ever thought I would pay for a pet.

Both of these choices were thoughtful; we didn't rush into them. But I am frugal. And they are luxuries.  And when I pause for even a moment, I feel so self-conscious.

And rich.

When I look at our life, it sort of scares me.  What does one do when one has extra money?

If we invest it, are we selfish?

If we give it away, are we foolish?

(I know there's a middle ground here.  But I'm not sure exactly where it is)

So this is what I'm thinking about.  A proper attitude towards wealth and possessions.

What do you think? Do you feel self-conscious about your financial status, whatever it may be, or do you find it comfortable where you are?

(Please note, I'm not asking what your status is!)

A nice, relaxing Saturday morning

Isaac must be having a growth spurt because he's been sleeping in 'til 7:30 for a couple weeks now.  And the big kids are feeling particularly self reliant, so they don't wake me up.  So I've been sleeping in 'til 7:30.  SEVEN THIRTY, y'all!  So if you don't count that someone wakes up with a hacking cough every night (usually the girl child), I'm getting like nine hours of sleep.  Don't worry, I'm not getting attached to it. I figure I have about one more week like this. But you would think I'd feel rested, wouldn't you?  Well, I sort of do, but the advent of a puppy joining are life has made our little family busy again. 

For the first time ever, I have to get my shoes on the moment I'm dressed because when I get downstairs, we're off and running.  The pup has to go out, Isaac needs milk, anyone who did not take care of their own breakfast has to be fed, anyone who DID take care of their own breakfast has to be directed to clean up the huge mess they made, and why can't the coffee just make itself?

Brian has pointed out on a couple of occasions that the signs all say I didn't brush my teeth this morning.  Well, DUH. Once I'm downstairs, I don't go back up until bedtime.  At least give me credit for showering!

So anyway, the combination of sleeping in and not ever leaving the puppy unsupervised have caused a reboot of our daily patterns. Like laundry. This is the first Saturday since we got her that hasn't started with load after load of laundry, and that is because NATHAN IS AWESOME!

This whole six years old thing is interesting.  Nathan is spaz-tacular in a whole new way. From what I can see, he's not alone; it's the way of the six year old boy population.  They are slightly insane. However, yesterday, when I came down after my shower, Nathan had run a load of laundry (unloading the dryer, switching the wash to the dryer, then a new load in the wash) AND run a load of dishes.  Then, when the dishes were done, OF HIS OWN ACCORD, he unloaded the dishwasher, refilled it, and ran it AGAIN! 

(At this point I should probably point out the obvious: we were way behind on dishes, too)

For the first time this month, I don't feel buried under housework that needs to be done.  I can officially turn my husband's attention to the other things that need to be done around here, like sorting out all of the outgrown clothing that gets crammed into whatever empty space is readily available, and figuring out where the long-term home of the dog crate will be.  Lodged between my sewing table and hope chest, it doesn't really add the the simple, clean look I'm ultimately shooting for (how come the pottery barn dogs always lay nicely on a beautiful pillow?).

Also on our to-do list today is to plant the early spring vegetables. Because it looks like we can count on still being here in the early spring. Beyond that is anyone's guess. I can't decide if planting food is optimistic or pessimistic, but it is super relaxing for me and a joy for the kids. So we'll go with that.

Life is sweet, if unpredictable!



'

Lots of Random

I shared this on facebook, but I thought I'd share it here too:

Today Nathan and I were talking about (of all things) the gender roles of women in other cultures (have I mentioned that this kid asks a lot of questions?).  He asked me for a specific example, and I, as usual, couldn't come up with something when put on the spot.  I told him, "I can't think of anything off the top of my head."

"Do you have anything at the bottom of your head?"

Hmmm....

*****

Paisley loves Brian's shoes.  She loves all of the shoes she finds, but she curls up and sleeps on top of Brian's with her mouth open, so that her tongue is against the inside.  Yum.


*****

I was totally craving mashed potatoes earlier this week, during my monthly bout of insanity.  So I made A TON.  And they're now sitting in the fridge, because my kids won't eat them unless under duress.  I think we'll be eating Shepherd's Pie tonight.

*****

I've ordered our literature supplies for the rest of the school year, and little by little, they're arriving.  New books!  And the one day that I didn't put the RING THE DOORBELL AND DIE!!! sticker out, the guy rang the doorbell.  I would get a plaque if it weren't that the schedule is not consistent throughout babyhood.

*****

Isaac and Paisley are sort of hysterical together.  Isaac is so strong willed, I haven't figured out how to enforce appropriate behavior with the pup.  Consequently, our day goes like this:

Isaac attacks Paisley.

Paisley attacks Isaac.

Isaac cries. 

I come to the rescue, separate the offending parties, calm everyone down.

Isaac attacks Paisley.

*****

Speaking of Isaac, he's calming down!!  Sort of.  This week, he discovered that the tops come off of the six inch gutter drain thingies.  Our toy car bucket has been reduced by about half.

I feel the need to note, though, that we cleaned out toys in a massive way last weekend.   So the toys now floating somewhere underground?  Those were the few we wanted to KEEP.

While I was on the phone lamenting the situation to a friend's voice mail (so that I would not lament the situation to my toddler at top volume), Isaac was pulling the keys off my computer keyboard.  So if you notice anyplace that an "r" is missing, it's because that one is broken and wobbly now. 

Also, I got the requisite Toddler With Lipstick All Over His Face Picture yesterday.  He was cute, I have one of each of the kids, and he didn't ruin the lipstick, though (like Brenna did for her picture), so I'm not holding that one against him.

*****

I think there's a huge benefit to having a puppy while having a toddler.  Bodily fluids are such a part of my daily existence, that another creature having accidents on the floor doesn't even phase me.

*****

So things are kind of busy around here, what with the new puppy and all, however, our floor has never been cleaner!  Since Paisley thinks anything left on the floor is hers by default, it all get picked up.  And put on a counter or table.  So if you come to my house, just stare at the floor, and you'll think I have this thing figured out!  But you might run screaming from the house if you happen to glance at any other surfaces.

Happy New Year, Y'all!

Thankful for Thanksgiving

My  head is just swimming with all the randomness.

I love this time of year, it's my favorite.  The music, lights, celebration, holiness.  I have things I want to share about that, and about Thanksgiving, about my kids, what I'm reading, what I'm trying to figure out right now.

The blogs I read are churning out beautiful, articulate posts; I feel like at best I might be able to come up with a bullet point list.

So I guess I'll start with Thanksgiving.  It was wonderful.  Absolutely better than I could have wished for.  We were guests in the home of some childhood friends, Rachel and Brandon.  We watched our children become reaquainted with one another at lightning speed while we brought one another up to date at a very slightly slower pace.

It was interesting, back then, when one of my very oldest friends married a friend from high school, and is even more interesting now, as adults, to have so. much. history.  It's sort of fascinating to me the turn that conversations take when a person knows who you were.  When very few explanations are needed because they were there.

It was a precious time for me, of remembering why history is so special.  Why being known is important.

Thanksgiving dinner was eaten at the home of Rachel's parents, Lester and Mary.  I've known them as long as I can remember.  In fact, I have no memory of before the LaBour's.  Brandon's parents came as well, and there we were, feeling like family with those who aren't ours, and yet are part of our history.

We had a good laugh when after being sent outside to play, the boys asked for a rope and ladder (the girls were upstairs playing with dolls).  Since none was available, Mary told them to play with the hammock.  The could take it down, do whatever they wished with it.

A while later, Rachel went out to check on them, and came back laughing because Nathan had told her, in all seriousness, "I just don't know how we're going to use a hammock to get on the roof."

It seems they felt the need to check on the girls and were trying to find an alternate route since they were told not to go up the stairs.

Isn't it hysterical how literal children are?  When you're thinking you just communicated that they need to stay downstairs, their understanding is they may not use the stairs.

It was a wonderful time.  And to cap off the weekend perfectly, we made it all the way home on Friday, so we still had a weekend to unwind from the traveling. 

The one thing I wish was different?  I miss the leftovers!

Thank you, Brandon and Rachel, and Lester and Mary, 

for a beautiful holiday.  

We felt loved, and are so grateful.

Oops, Forgot One

Quick Take #8 (how could I have forgotten?)

He was at the table peacefully coloring, or so I thought, when he unscrewed the top of the pepper grinder and dumped it on the floor.  I'll just let you imagine what happens when a full grinder (just refilled it last month) of pepper balls hits a hardwood floor from about three feet in the air.

And by the way, those things are hard to sweep up, because if you use a regular broom, they just keep right on rolling past the pile you're attempting to make. 

So yeah.  Isaac's week.  I'll try to think of something else to write about soon, but I can't make any promises, because chasing him around is pretty much all I think about.

7 Quick Takes, A Day Early

So, I know I've mentioned a time or three how hard Isaac is.  Well, Isaac being hard has been the theme this week.  So in honor of 7 Quick takes Friday, I will list seven thing that Isaac has done with the express intent of giving me a heart attack this week.

1.  I talked with a very lovely woman at Poison Control after Isaac swallowed 6 to 8 (I think) allergy pills.  Apparently, with this particular pill, he would have had to swallow 13 (THIRTEEN!) in order to require an emergency room visit.  Afterwards, he took a four hour nap, which was awesome, except for the expected concern and frequent trips upstairs to make sure he was, you know, breathing and stuff.

2.  He BROKE the cabinet latch.  The one designed to keep HIM out of the cabinet that holds Brian's tools, our art supplies and my camera (consequently, in a fit of frustration, he threw an 18 inch long screwdriver at me when I tried to get it from him).

3.  I've had to put the stool that Brenna uses to wash her hands on top of the kid's hutch to keep Isaac from using it to further endanger himself or our belongings.  I made this decision after he used his fingers to dig into Brian's deoderent and eat it.

4.  He also uses the now out-of-reach stool to flip the light switches, which is fun and usually harmless.  Except when the best light switches are at the top of the stairs.  There's nothing like coming around a corner to find your toddler stretched up on his tip toes on a stool six inches from a flight of stairs.

5.  More about that stool:  earlier this week I found him digging through the caddy with all our toiletries on it (and allergy pills, apparently).  When I told him to get down, he shoved me, pointed out the bathroom door, and in his firmest voice, yelled, "Go-Go!"

6.  On the upside, he's really getting the hang of sorting the silverware!  And un-sorting board games.

7.  This morning, I accidentally grabbed Brian's keys instead of my own.  He keeps a vial of his medication attached to his keyring.  When I turned around to lock the front door, I dropped them. As fast as Brian does it, Isaac screwed the top off the vial and had a pill in his mouth.  You better believe that boy was pinned to the floor before he knew what had hit him.  It hadn't made it past his lips, yet.

So.  On my agenda today is finding some way to lock up every medication in the house (thankfully, there aren't many) and also finding a safe, but convenient place to relocate the keyrings.  Prayer would be very much appreciated.

Clumsy

My kids are all having growth spurts.  Isaac is noticeably bigger, but that's not how I know.

They cannot walk without hurting themselves.

These kids are CLUMSY.

I've noticed that when they're growing, it's like they forget how to use their extremities.  Fingers do what?  Seriously, somebody must have moved that wall!  Yes, the table is still lower than your head.  If you try to stand up under it, you're going to get hurt.  EVERY TIME.

In the same vein, I was wondering last night, when do we stop rolling around on the floor and sobbing when we get hurt?

I hurt myself pretty often, I think.  I don't trip and fall, I've never broken anything, but I'm a pro at catching my toes on things.  I've been doubled over using breathing exercises more times than I care to count.  Sometimes it hurts so badly I get nauseous.  But I generally remain upright.  I wonder what my family would think if I laid on the floor and wailed when someone stepped on my foot?

Maybe I'll try that next time;  see what happens.

I wouldn't have missed it.

Oops, I guess I didn't come back yesterday!  Time flies when you're procrastinating, eh?

This weekend I got to fly up to Indianapolis for the wedding of one of my oldest friends.  Silja and I have known each other since first (or second, the reports differ!) grade.  The wedding was absolutely beautiful; Matt's (Silja's husband) parents have a lovely large backyard with a pond surrounded by reeds, which are surrounded by woods.  A dock in the pond made one of the most beautiful wedding backdrops I've ever seen!

And can I just say, I LOVED the bouquets!  Silja said that when she talked to the florist she asked for white hydrangeas and she liked the greet button mums.  This is what he came up with:

Other thrills:

BIG HAIR!  That was exciting.  The hair dresser teased my entire head of hair before putting it in an asymmetrical french twist.  Then she hairsprayed it within an inch of it's life.  When I pulled out the many bobby pins, my hair stood straight back from my  head.  It was awesome!

I got lost everywhere I went. I am totally impaired when it comes to directions.  The wedding?  It was in the middle of Timbuktu, a 15 minute drive from the nearest town.  At one point Silja called to find out where I was, and I told her, "I feel like I've gone too far... oh.  I'm in Logansport."  Well, Logansport is about 18 miles in the opposite direction I should have been driving (and remember, my destination was another 15 minutes past where I started).  A few speed limits may or may not have been broken on this trip.  I'm not telling.

I realized.... I like my family.  I was really looking forward to getting away, to relaxing and being by myself... but I missed them.  Sleeping in a king size bed without my husband really was not that great.  And to top it off, since I'm accustomed to getting a herd of cats out the door every time I go anywhere, without them I was ALWAYS LATE!  Seriously!  I thought I had so much time, since it was just me, so I would let myself get sidetracked...

It was a fun weekend.  I got to meet some wonderful new people, and catch up with Silja's family, whom I've known since childhood, but haven't seen in ten or so years.

And as far as resting, even though I was exhausted from a crazy three days, I was SO ready to be with my family. 

Congratulations, Silja and Matt!

I Think I Can, I Think I Can, I Think I Can...

We are half way through Birthday Week here in the Chatty household.  I am TIRED!  This year, Nathan's birthday fell on Monday, and Brenna's is on Friday, which has effectively made our whole week a mess!  We have a house full of food that is normally off limits, and new toys that, for this week, are being allowed to take precedence over taking care of the house.  We are slowly working our way back to our normal routine, but really, I can't wait for next week!

Sunday, we had a crazy (CRAZY!) day, teaching Sunday School in the morning, bringing a bunch of boys home from church with us for a party, then heading to our life group after it was done.

Monday we relaxed for Nathan's birthday, played with new toys, did a little school, but mostly just hung out.  Oh, and I let the kids watch a bunch of TV since I wanted Nathan's actual birthday to be special too, but I was done.  Just DONE.

So there's today, then tomorrow, then Brenna's special day. 

It was fun to talk with Nathan about how his birthday is special for me too, because this is the anniversary of the day he came out of my tummy!   That got a big hug for me. 


TMI ALERT!

(That's 'Too Much Information' for you old people.)
 
Men, stop reading now if you're squeamish.



Okay, I warned you!

I was extra tired because The Curse decided to show up NINE DAYS LATE.  Needless to say, the extra stress really added to the festivities.  Ladies, have you noticed that the side effects are worse when you're late?  That was my experience.  Crying all day long one day, then bad cramps all day the next.  Ugh.

So.  I'm pretty sure next week will be more relaxing, though I'm sure my kids will start on oh, Saturday, planning for next year!

I'm not interested in perfect.

As I sweep the floor, I notice it there.  In the corner, behind the shoes, the dirt.  It's in the kitchen too, in the back corner under the cabinets.  And underneath the washer and dryer in the utility closet.  I would have to move them to get to it.  I see it.

I sew one stitch too far.  I know I've done it, and I could go back and fix it... cut the threads in progress, pull this behemoth quilt out of my machine, and painstakingly remove stitches, all the way back to the beginning of the line, sew it again... so that it would be perfect.

I have a terrible day.  I am emotional, crying, needing to be alone.  But I have to teach my kids, even if I didn't have to teach them, I have to parent them.  I don't do a very good job, some days.

And it skitters through my mind,  as I look at the dirt I've missed, choose not to rip a seam, accept the hug my children need to give...

I'm not interested in perfect. 

Perfect doesn't solve anything.  Perfect won't guarantee life goes according to plan.

But so much life is in front of me!

These kids, they are helping to sweep.  They make a bigger mess, but they are learning!

My little daughter might get to sleep covered by this quilt by Christmas.  There are uneven stitches.  I will always know they are there, but maybe they won't be, next time. 

And I have a chance, in my own weakness, to show redemption.  To show real life, real emotions, to show and receive grace.  Perfection would never teach them that.

I'm not interested in perfect.

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.

 Philippians 1:9-11

I am exhausted and hormonal, but not pregnant.

Really, I failed a pregnancy test yesterday.  Definitely not pregnant.

But SO tired.  And cranky.

A little bit ago, Brian called to say his boss is in town and wants to take the team out to dinner. I cried.  Not because I don't want him to go, but because I want to go too.

About that pregnancy test:

I've spent the last couple days thinking about being pregnant.  I'm not ready.  It's an odd feeling, since each other time I could hardly wait!  But as I looked at Isaac, I wasn't ready for him to NOT be the baby.  And as I thought about all of the unknowns in the next six to eight months, being pregnant would really complicate not having any idea where we'll be living (or even when we'll be moving)!

And yet...

When I got a minus sign instead of a plus...

I was disappointed.

I never claim to be logical!

(And no, we're not going to start trying...yet)

First Grade, Here We Come!

Warning: this post is mostly my thoughts and reflection this morning, and as such, may not be... well, interesting!

Today is Nathan's first day of 1st grade.  We are all excited for another fun beginning and relieved to be back in a pattern.

I noticed a couple things this morning:

We are so much more relaxed this year!  I'm sure that's a no-brainer, but last year was such a learning experience for both all of us.  I spent last year figuring out how Nathan learns, what motivates him, and also how I teach. 

The other big thing I noticed is that it's not all about Nathan this year.  Last year, every single decision I made regarding school was made with Nathan in mind.

What's best for Nathan?
How will this affect Nathan?
When I school Nathan...
etc.

Conversations about homeschooling were only about him, even though I knew that (most likely) I'll be home educating the other two as well.  I would try to break out of that thought pattern and think about the broader implications of our decisions... but I couldn't do it.

This summer, though, my thoughts have turned much more to our family.

What's best for our family?
How will this affect our family?
When our family is in school...

It's really been a relief to know that I don't have to be hyper-focused on my beautiful boy at all times!

We've completed our morning routine and we're getting ready to start school.  It's gonna be a great year!

7 Quick Takes Friday

I have a whole lot of little random things rattling around my brain lately.  I keep thinking I should write a post about that.... but it would be one sentence.  When I saw 7 Quick Takes Friday over at Conversion Diary, it was a little gift of brevity from God!

1.  I've been getting ready to start our home school year all week.  The curriculum I'm using is ordered, and I'm very excited about it, so our actual timeline will likely depend on when it gets here, since we'll probably just dive right in.

2.  I'm contemplating, after these many years of using children as an alarm clock, getting my own.  I KNOW!  It sounds terrible.  But there may be some relief in having my coffee before there are three little voices at the side of my bed making their imminent starvation my problem.

3.  I've also been working on Brenna's quilt, and as I've mentioned a time or two, I like to make things harder than they were supposed to be.  Due to my overestimation of my own abilities, I'm having a problem with the dimensions of the quilt.  The style I chose moves around a lot.  Anyhoo, I also don't really love the way it's all coming together.  It makes me glad I'm getting all this learning out of the way while my children are young enough to think everything I make is THE COOLEST THING EVER!

4.  Isaac is killing me.  He is loud, insistent, obnoxiously stubborn, LOUD, he hits, he throws, he screams, he's fearless to the point of injury, and he's loud.  All the time.  If he's awake, I'm stressed.  Definitely my hardest toddler.  Then he smiles, and oh.my.word.  He's beautiful.  Charming.  Such a gift.  Then he throws his shoes at me.

5.  It's been hot.  Big surprise, right?  So we've been traveling around the area finding things to do on the weekend just to get out of the house.  We figure it's better to be hot someplace interesting.

A few weeks ago we went to Oak Alley Plantation.  It was beautiful.  The tour probably would have been better if the above mentioned toddler hadn't felt it was imperative to be louder than the guide at all times, causing the two of us to have to leave, much to the relief of the other paying customers.

This weekend we're going to New Orleans Museum of Art.  It'll be the kids' first time at an art museum.  Yay for culture!

6.  I can't figure out what to do for the Brenna and Nathan's birthdays.  I'm a little wary of inviting three or four six year old boys over to climb my walls for a couple hours, but it will be too hot to do anything outside and I'm not willing to pay several hundred dollars to rent a birthday party venue for a total of eight children.  Anyone have any ideas for me?

7.  Ummm...

We got a good coupon for a set of tires, which we will need reasonably soon.

Or,

I can't find a picture I like for the place of honor in my wall of pictures, so the frame is still empty.  It's starting to bug me.

Oh, I know! 

This week I wrote my to-do list on the white board, really big.  It's awesome, because I can't ignore it!  I have been so productive.  Of course, that means that my children REALLY, REALLY need to use the white board that they've been ignoring all summer, because clearly it's the most desirable space in the house.

THE END