Mother's Day. Mother's Day is the one day I am almost guaranteed the kids will try to get along. It's a day I know that I won't have to make dinner (YES!). It's also become a day that I know is heartbreaking for so many people that I hold dear.
I have been blessed, unbelievably blessed, with 5 amazing daughters. I became a mom at 23 and that was that. For the last 9 years I have changed diapers, cleaned up sickness, attempted hairstyles, washed an insane amount of tights, looked for Bear, Peanut, Horton, and Chewy Blankets thousands of times. Some days the highlight is bedtime. I've removed splinters, wiped tears, read stories, snuggled just because and have been dubbed "the best mom ever." (I believe my title has been retracted and reinstated roughly 463 times, give or take).
Every day is a gift. One that I get to share with The Bonus Moms! This life we lead cannot be lived alone. God created us for community. We need it, we crave it, we were made for it. As a mom I am so grateful to have Bonus Moms in my life and the lives of my girls.
Bonus Mom is a term I like to think that I made up. So... claiming it! Bonus Moms are the women who pour into and love my kids. They're their grandmas, church leaders, aunts, my best friends and more.
The Bonus Moms in our lives listen patiently to wacky stories without rolling their eyes. They play Barbies at the dinner table. They craft for hours. They read stories because they're asked. They feel comfortable enough to correct my kids is they're misbehaving. They have nicknames that will be logged in our family history because they're ADORABLE. They've held little girls with big boo boos. They've taken them for sleepovers because it seemed fun (and gave me a much needed break). They pull out embarrassing pictures of me as a kid. They have pool parties knowing their floors will be filthy because my kids have to come back into the house 95 times. They've had nail painting parties. They have played board games so I could take a shower. They've held my babies the day they were born. They know how much I love good literature so they make sure to include books in gifts. They have taught them how to bake the most amazing chocolate chip cookies. They document our lives in pictures, both phone and professionally. They know all of our kids weird food habits. They have bonded over snacks. They pray for our family. They have seen us at our worse and at our best.
They love my daughters. Maybe not as much as I do, and definitely in a different way. But these women love my girls. And I am so incredibly grateful. So on this Mother's Day I want to say thank you to the Bonus Moms in our lives. They don't know it yet, but they are blessed to have you! You are becoming part of their childhood memories and I couldn't be more thrilled!
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Reality Check - A Real Mom Confession
Being a mom is messy. Not just covered in snot and baby puke and PlayDoh and marker and dinner prep messy, but real life messy. Messy, like overwhelming, cannot cope, full of craziness messy. Demanding small people with their needs (like sustenance and clean clothes), hands that won't stop grabbing at your clothes, bathroom doors bursting open because someone took someone elses Barbie. The word Mommy spoken approximately every 18 seconds. Messy.
My life is messy and lately it's been overwhelming. I had another baby girl (that's 5 for those of you keeping track) right before Thanksgiving. Two weeks later I was in the ER getting an epidural blood patch for spinal headaches that hadn't ceased since her birth. It only worked for 15 hours. A week later my gallbladder was removed. A week after that was Christmas, and two weeks later we resumed our homeschool schedule. Pure madness. While Lucy is awesome (like her sisters before her) and slept through the night by 6 weeks, lately, it's just been too much.
Too. Much. I don't know if it's because I haven't been out of the house with just my husband (commonly referred to as a date) for over 3 months. I don't know if it's the disgusting winter grossness that we are in. Or the fact that I am attempting to simplify and eliminate clutter from our lives, which in and of itself, is too much. Or trying to lose 5 babies worth of extra pounds to get healthy so I can enjoy these girls a little more. I don't know if it's the lack of fellowship with other ladies. Or the children who are always nearby because we live in a small space and homeschool (so they never leave). Or the medical bills that won't stop filling our mailbox. I don't know if it's the household monotony (I mean really, laundry, dinner and dishes everyday. Come on.) I cannot say what it is. But, it's been too much. Last week, I lost it.
I was weepy, full of self-pity, self-reliance, short-tempered. Mean. And based on my husbands assessment after the fact, not much fun to be around. And yet, I stayed there. Stuck. Wallowing in my Mess. I refused to step outside of it. Outside of myself. I yelled (more than normal). I wasn't the greatest teacher. I resented every piece of clothing I tossed in the machine. I forgot to thaw out dinner, and then, I didn't care. I get it now. Postpartum depression. Postpartum psychosis. Moms who truly snap one day. And, that's terrifying. And so, so, so very sad.
I have it pretty great. A husband who loves me and works hard so I can stay home. So I can do this mothering thing full time. Kids who are fantastic. They're helpful and funny and beautiful and amazing. Gifts. Joy. Miracles. I have a Savior who died so the muck that I was stuck in would never have a hold on me. I have a church that has met our physical and spiritual needs countless times without ever needing to ask. I have friends who would drop everything to take me to coffee. But for some reason, none of that mattered. None of it.
Sunday we went to church as usual. Frankly, I wanted to stay home. I was grouchy and didn't want to smile at people. Or sit with teenagers (I love teenagers, but I was still stuck). Or sing praise songs. Oh, goodness, no praise songs please. I had no sick kids, no legitimate excuse to stay home. So I went. And talked to teenagers. And went to sing praises. And then they changed it up on me. We sang and then they opened the floor for people to share testimonies. Scripture. Truth. Praises. Who God is and what He's been doing in their lives. One woman who I love dearly got up and spoke about how hard it is out there, in the world. How some days she wants to throw in the towel and call it quits (exactly where my heart was). How much she needs the community of believers that we belong to. How thankful she is for the restorative grace that can only be found in Him. Sweet, sweet Jesus. Ms. Lisa, you don't know it, but God used that moment of authenticity. Your honesty and vulnerability started the chipping away of my Mess. So, thank you for being real. Seconds later we sang Lord, I Need You. The lyrics spoke to my heart. They resonated into the very fiber of my being and brought about tears, prayers and brokenness. The song became my prayer.
"Lord, I Need You"
I spent the rest of service looking up scripture. Words of truth to hold onto in the midst of my Mess. My crazy. My reality. The gifts that have been given to me by a glorious God. One who knows that my faith is not tested by little things, but by much. Too. Much.
Did I come into the house Sunday afternoon a completely awesome wife and mom? No. But I was a little better. Sunday evening a friend sent out a request for prayer. Somehow I managed to hijack that thread (sorry Friend!) and two sweet ladies asked if I was okay. They asked. They checked to be sure I was okay. And that was glorious! And then they promised to pray. There really is nothing anyone can DO to help with my day to day Mess (unless you wanna scrub my bathtub, because... it's gross) but knowing I have Sweet Sisters who are praying helps.
Wednesday I was perusing The Facebook and came across a post by Ann Voscamp. 1000 Gifts. The premise is that we have been unbelievably blessed by a glorious God. A God who pours out his grace, mercy and love on us lavishly. But in the midst of the Mess we can so easily lose sight of those gifts. She challenged me (well, everyone, but I'm taking it as a personal challenge) to live a life of joy. To count just 3 gifts a day. By then end of the year I'll have counted over 1000 gifts. Is that not beautiful? I think, at this stage of my life, daily gratitude will go a long way. A moment to STOP and be grateful. http://onethousandgifts.com/a-letter-from-ann
http://www.aholyexperience.com/joy-dares/
So, I was on the upswing. Praying. Practicing gratitude. And then this happened. #iheartzion Watch it.
http://www.christianpost.com/news/baby-zion-blick-only-lived-10-days-but-parents-say-his-life-brought-them-closer-to-god-video-114087/
If you have never ugly face cried before, I'm guessing you have now. Whoa. 10 days. These parents had 10 days to love their child. How much time do I have? 10 more days? 10 years? A lifetime? The great mystery of life is that I don't know. These girls are not mine. They never were. They have been gifted to me. To love. To lead. To train up. And it hit me.
Real life happens. And sometimes it's messy. And gross. And hard. And it hurts. This gift of motherhood that I was mired in, resentful of, is truly a gift. A miracle that I too often take for granted. My bitterness breaks the heart of my husband, who loves me and desires to see me joyful. My complaining breaks the heart of my friends who would give anything for 10 minutes of my life full of babies. My grouchiness breaks the heart of my girls who need a mom that leads by example. My unwillingness to seek out help breaks the heart of my friends and family who love me and would help, if only I would ask. My Mess, when carried on my own, breaks the heart of my God, who willingly would carry it all, if only I would give it up.
The Trifecta. Worship, 1000 Gifts, and 10 Days. This is it. This is not my Mess. It's His. He can take care of it. He can carry it. He tells me to give it to Him. So take it Lord! Carry these girls, this husband, this house, our schooling, our future plans, where we will live, what we will do. All of it. It's not mine. It's yours! And, that is Freedom. Fantastic, amazing, beautiful Freedom.
Real life requires real confessions from real people. What do you need to give up to experience Freedom today?
My life is messy and lately it's been overwhelming. I had another baby girl (that's 5 for those of you keeping track) right before Thanksgiving. Two weeks later I was in the ER getting an epidural blood patch for spinal headaches that hadn't ceased since her birth. It only worked for 15 hours. A week later my gallbladder was removed. A week after that was Christmas, and two weeks later we resumed our homeschool schedule. Pure madness. While Lucy is awesome (like her sisters before her) and slept through the night by 6 weeks, lately, it's just been too much.
Too. Much. I don't know if it's because I haven't been out of the house with just my husband (commonly referred to as a date) for over 3 months. I don't know if it's the disgusting winter grossness that we are in. Or the fact that I am attempting to simplify and eliminate clutter from our lives, which in and of itself, is too much. Or trying to lose 5 babies worth of extra pounds to get healthy so I can enjoy these girls a little more. I don't know if it's the lack of fellowship with other ladies. Or the children who are always nearby because we live in a small space and homeschool (so they never leave). Or the medical bills that won't stop filling our mailbox. I don't know if it's the household monotony (I mean really, laundry, dinner and dishes everyday. Come on.) I cannot say what it is. But, it's been too much. Last week, I lost it.
I was weepy, full of self-pity, self-reliance, short-tempered. Mean. And based on my husbands assessment after the fact, not much fun to be around. And yet, I stayed there. Stuck. Wallowing in my Mess. I refused to step outside of it. Outside of myself. I yelled (more than normal). I wasn't the greatest teacher. I resented every piece of clothing I tossed in the machine. I forgot to thaw out dinner, and then, I didn't care. I get it now. Postpartum depression. Postpartum psychosis. Moms who truly snap one day. And, that's terrifying. And so, so, so very sad.
I have it pretty great. A husband who loves me and works hard so I can stay home. So I can do this mothering thing full time. Kids who are fantastic. They're helpful and funny and beautiful and amazing. Gifts. Joy. Miracles. I have a Savior who died so the muck that I was stuck in would never have a hold on me. I have a church that has met our physical and spiritual needs countless times without ever needing to ask. I have friends who would drop everything to take me to coffee. But for some reason, none of that mattered. None of it.
Sunday we went to church as usual. Frankly, I wanted to stay home. I was grouchy and didn't want to smile at people. Or sit with teenagers (I love teenagers, but I was still stuck). Or sing praise songs. Oh, goodness, no praise songs please. I had no sick kids, no legitimate excuse to stay home. So I went. And talked to teenagers. And went to sing praises. And then they changed it up on me. We sang and then they opened the floor for people to share testimonies. Scripture. Truth. Praises. Who God is and what He's been doing in their lives. One woman who I love dearly got up and spoke about how hard it is out there, in the world. How some days she wants to throw in the towel and call it quits (exactly where my heart was). How much she needs the community of believers that we belong to. How thankful she is for the restorative grace that can only be found in Him. Sweet, sweet Jesus. Ms. Lisa, you don't know it, but God used that moment of authenticity. Your honesty and vulnerability started the chipping away of my Mess. So, thank you for being real. Seconds later we sang Lord, I Need You. The lyrics spoke to my heart. They resonated into the very fiber of my being and brought about tears, prayers and brokenness. The song became my prayer.
"Lord, I Need You"
Lord, I come, I confess
Bowing here I find my rest
Without You I fall apart
You're the One that guides my heart
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
Where sin runs deep Your grace is more
Where grace is found is where You are
And where You are, Lord, I am free
Holiness is Christ in me
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
Teach my song to rise to You
When temptation comes my way
And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You
Jesus, You're my hope and stay
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
You're my one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
Bowing here I find my rest
Without You I fall apart
You're the One that guides my heart
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
Where sin runs deep Your grace is more
Where grace is found is where You are
And where You are, Lord, I am free
Holiness is Christ in me
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
Teach my song to rise to You
When temptation comes my way
And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You
Jesus, You're my hope and stay
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
You're my one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
I spent the rest of service looking up scripture. Words of truth to hold onto in the midst of my Mess. My crazy. My reality. The gifts that have been given to me by a glorious God. One who knows that my faith is not tested by little things, but by much. Too. Much.
Did I come into the house Sunday afternoon a completely awesome wife and mom? No. But I was a little better. Sunday evening a friend sent out a request for prayer. Somehow I managed to hijack that thread (sorry Friend!) and two sweet ladies asked if I was okay. They asked. They checked to be sure I was okay. And that was glorious! And then they promised to pray. There really is nothing anyone can DO to help with my day to day Mess (unless you wanna scrub my bathtub, because... it's gross) but knowing I have Sweet Sisters who are praying helps.
Wednesday I was perusing The Facebook and came across a post by Ann Voscamp. 1000 Gifts. The premise is that we have been unbelievably blessed by a glorious God. A God who pours out his grace, mercy and love on us lavishly. But in the midst of the Mess we can so easily lose sight of those gifts. She challenged me (well, everyone, but I'm taking it as a personal challenge) to live a life of joy. To count just 3 gifts a day. By then end of the year I'll have counted over 1000 gifts. Is that not beautiful? I think, at this stage of my life, daily gratitude will go a long way. A moment to STOP and be grateful. http://onethousandgifts.com/a-letter-from-ann
http://www.aholyexperience.com/joy-dares/
So, I was on the upswing. Praying. Practicing gratitude. And then this happened. #iheartzion Watch it.
http://www.christianpost.com/news/baby-zion-blick-only-lived-10-days-but-parents-say-his-life-brought-them-closer-to-god-video-114087/
If you have never ugly face cried before, I'm guessing you have now. Whoa. 10 days. These parents had 10 days to love their child. How much time do I have? 10 more days? 10 years? A lifetime? The great mystery of life is that I don't know. These girls are not mine. They never were. They have been gifted to me. To love. To lead. To train up. And it hit me.
Real life happens. And sometimes it's messy. And gross. And hard. And it hurts. This gift of motherhood that I was mired in, resentful of, is truly a gift. A miracle that I too often take for granted. My bitterness breaks the heart of my husband, who loves me and desires to see me joyful. My complaining breaks the heart of my friends who would give anything for 10 minutes of my life full of babies. My grouchiness breaks the heart of my girls who need a mom that leads by example. My unwillingness to seek out help breaks the heart of my friends and family who love me and would help, if only I would ask. My Mess, when carried on my own, breaks the heart of my God, who willingly would carry it all, if only I would give it up.
The Trifecta. Worship, 1000 Gifts, and 10 Days. This is it. This is not my Mess. It's His. He can take care of it. He can carry it. He tells me to give it to Him. So take it Lord! Carry these girls, this husband, this house, our schooling, our future plans, where we will live, what we will do. All of it. It's not mine. It's yours! And, that is Freedom. Fantastic, amazing, beautiful Freedom.
Real life requires real confessions from real people. What do you need to give up to experience Freedom today?
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Beauty in the Broken
My last post was called A Jumbled Mess or Something Beautiful. It was about my life. The daily occurences, the jumbled mess that I pray God makes into something beautiful. Lately God has been showing me such beauty!
Oh His glorious, bountiful, amazing beauty! I follow a blog called WavyBel. It is heartbreaking, gut-wrenching and tear inducing. This woman has had her whole world turned upside down and she still praises God. It's so AMAZING! It's so easy to see the broken in this world we live in. To look around and see chaos. Broken hearts, broken homes, broken lives. So today, I choose beauty. Beauty in the broken. This blog, WavyBel, one day she posted about her AND. That no matter what, no matter the situation she always, always, always has an &. In Christ we have an AND. We can have sorrow & joy. Chaos & peace. For just a minute I want to think about the ANDs in my life (and those dear to me).
I have a friend who is in the midst of some horrible health issues. Some days it's hard for her to walk. Some days she just has to sit and cry because she's so young, has young babies and just wants to be well. Some days she is broken. AND. And she is beautiful. Because she cries out to God, seeks His will, loves Him fervently and tackles these challenges head on. Some days are hard, so very hard, but she presses on.
I have a friend who is in the process of adopting. It's hard, it's frustrating, it's expensive. She and her husband have open hearts and an open home and empty hands. Some days she is broken. AND. And she is beautiful. She has poured her heart out to God, praying for her hands to be full of squishy baby. The process continues AND she has faith that one day, very soon, they'll have a baby to love on.
Some of my church family just returned from Nicaraugua. They're posting pictures like crazy. Brokenness. Homes with plastic sheeting. Toy cars made from soda bottles. Dirty little faces. AND. And they are beautiful. Homes were built. Lives were changed. The Spirit of God was all over the people in that small village.
I have a husband whose grandmother just passed away. He barely knew this woman and realized that his heart was full of bitterness he never knew was there. He is a man who is broken. AND. And he is beautiful because he recognized his weakness and sought prayer. He is seeking God's direction. Beauty.
We work with teenagers at our church. They are broken. Broken. Some speak openly of their brokenness. Some live in a private hell they don't talk about. Some don't even know they're broken. But we see it. AND. And they are SO beautiful. When they cry out to God and completely surrender to Him, His leading, I can't even tell you how beautiful that is. When they just start to think they might need Someone else, so beautiful. When they finally say something in group, beautiful. When they take communion together on a Wednesday night. Beauty!
I have a marriage that was broken. When I say broken, I mean broken, broken. We were on the brink of divorce. AND. And our marriage was made beautiful. God has redeemed us and through Him, our marriage has been saved.
I am broken. I am a sinner. I struggle with sin. Often. AND. And I am beautiful. I am covered by the blood of the Lamb. Jesus has made me whole. I desire to be in fellowship with Him. Oh that others would see the Beauty in the Broken.
Oh His glorious, bountiful, amazing beauty! I follow a blog called WavyBel. It is heartbreaking, gut-wrenching and tear inducing. This woman has had her whole world turned upside down and she still praises God. It's so AMAZING! It's so easy to see the broken in this world we live in. To look around and see chaos. Broken hearts, broken homes, broken lives. So today, I choose beauty. Beauty in the broken. This blog, WavyBel, one day she posted about her AND. That no matter what, no matter the situation she always, always, always has an &. In Christ we have an AND. We can have sorrow & joy. Chaos & peace. For just a minute I want to think about the ANDs in my life (and those dear to me).
I have a friend who is in the midst of some horrible health issues. Some days it's hard for her to walk. Some days she just has to sit and cry because she's so young, has young babies and just wants to be well. Some days she is broken. AND. And she is beautiful. Because she cries out to God, seeks His will, loves Him fervently and tackles these challenges head on. Some days are hard, so very hard, but she presses on.
I have a friend who is in the process of adopting. It's hard, it's frustrating, it's expensive. She and her husband have open hearts and an open home and empty hands. Some days she is broken. AND. And she is beautiful. She has poured her heart out to God, praying for her hands to be full of squishy baby. The process continues AND she has faith that one day, very soon, they'll have a baby to love on.
Some of my church family just returned from Nicaraugua. They're posting pictures like crazy. Brokenness. Homes with plastic sheeting. Toy cars made from soda bottles. Dirty little faces. AND. And they are beautiful. Homes were built. Lives were changed. The Spirit of God was all over the people in that small village.
I have a husband whose grandmother just passed away. He barely knew this woman and realized that his heart was full of bitterness he never knew was there. He is a man who is broken. AND. And he is beautiful because he recognized his weakness and sought prayer. He is seeking God's direction. Beauty.
We work with teenagers at our church. They are broken. Broken. Some speak openly of their brokenness. Some live in a private hell they don't talk about. Some don't even know they're broken. But we see it. AND. And they are SO beautiful. When they cry out to God and completely surrender to Him, His leading, I can't even tell you how beautiful that is. When they just start to think they might need Someone else, so beautiful. When they finally say something in group, beautiful. When they take communion together on a Wednesday night. Beauty!
I have a marriage that was broken. When I say broken, I mean broken, broken. We were on the brink of divorce. AND. And our marriage was made beautiful. God has redeemed us and through Him, our marriage has been saved.
I am broken. I am a sinner. I struggle with sin. Often. AND. And I am beautiful. I am covered by the blood of the Lamb. Jesus has made me whole. I desire to be in fellowship with Him. Oh that others would see the Beauty in the Broken.
Friday, June 8, 2012
A Jumbled Mess or Something Beautiful?
It's been nearly a year since I've sat down to write a blog posting. There are a thousand reasons I've stayed silent (at least to the internet). Four crazy kids, The Facebook, a house that is a giant disaster, a husband who works hard and deserves a homemade dinner, laziness, The Netflix, that confounded Pinterest, and fun outings with children.
I'm not even sure what I'm going to type about. To be honest, I haven't typed on a conventional keyboard in a LONG time. Our laptop cord was broken and that made it pretty tricky to write a post. I guess I'll just type out some musings. If they appear to be a jumbled mess, so be it. I'll take it! At least it'll be out of my head.
What happened in the last year? Well, Grace successfully rocked first grade and is the ripe old age of 7. She is an AMAZING reader! She loves to read. She reads to her sisters, reads to herself. She loves American Girls books, the Little House on the Prairie series (something I'm sad to say, I've never read), her new Bible. Anything she can get her hands on, she reads. AND I LOVE IT! I'm a bookworm by nature and it's so neat to see my daughter delve into books wholeheartedly!
Emma is as precocious as ever. At 5, she's so curious, we think she's going to be a detective or an investigative reporter. She loves playing with Barbies (and drives me crazy because she chews their shoes). She is gearing up to start Kindergarten. My Emma is going to be in Kindergarten! I can hardly believe it. She did a great job at her K screening, impressing all the teachers.
Claire. Oh, Claire. She's so funny. Every time she talks, something hilarious comes out. She loves her "guys", two little boys that are nearly her age. She's a ham. She's also entering the stage of defiance and hitting. Challenges, challenges. Potty training is nearly complete! She showed zero interest until around the time she turned 3. She wears panties everyday, Pull-Ups only at nap and bedtime. Bit by bit, we're getting there!
And finally, Ava. Ava turned 1 not so long ago! The day was full of cake, presents and fun. She's a crawling genius and is pulling up on everything. Grace is adamant that she has seen Ava stand up without any kind of table to lean on. I haven't seen it, therefore, it didn't happen. She is such a joy! Full of "selective smiles" and waves for everyone.
What else? What else? Aaron and I are getting ready to celebrate 9 years of marriage. Nine years! We've been together for 12, married for 9. We've had our ups and downs, our peaks and valleys for sure. But, I'm happy to say that I'm married to a great guy. He's hardworking, loves his family, thinks he's hilarious (which he is...), and is a wonderful God-loving man.
In the last year, we've rearranged furniture. Thought about moving. Worked on becoming debt-free. Loved on some teenagers. Prayed over lots of circumstances. Had a couple of Date Nights. Celebrated the marriage of a dear friend. Friends have welcomed babies both through the miracle of birth and the miracle of adoption. AWESOME! We've watched friends move away, far away, to pursue the ministry God has called them to. Also AWESOME!
We've also had our fair share of heartache. On Thanksgiving 2011, I, on a whim, took a pregnancy test. Much to my shock and chagrin, it came up positive. After some discussion (mostly: 5 kids, we have to move, could be a boy, bet it's a girl, woo hoo, a baby is a blessing, God knows what he's doing) Aaron and I opted to keep it to ourselves. We wanted to hang on to our secret for just a bit. Ava was such a shock to me, I chose to embrace this baby with abandon. I had missed out on so much of the joy with her because I was scared. We kept it to ourselves, reveled in the craziness that was to come. Thanksgiving was fun, because we had a secret. On Wednesday of the following week, I was on the phone with a friend. Aaron said I could tell her, and I did. She squealed with delight, promised to keep it hush and shared our joy. My parents came over for dinner a week later, Thursday, and somehow we told them too. Aaron called his mom, to share the news with her. That night, I started spotting. By Friday evening it was heavier. We made some calls and decided to go to the hospital. Friends called at strategic moments, we gave them a tiny bit of info and asked them to pray. After lots of bloodwork, tests, and ultrasounds we were told that I was either barely pregnant (a week or so along), or losing the baby. We knew I had to be further along, which meant we were losing the baby. I was okay until Sunday morning. I got ready for church, got in the van, and lost it. Aaron looked at me and told me I didn't have to go, that it would be okay for me to stay home. I needed that. NEEDED him to say, stay. So, I did. I went inside, borrowed a stuffed animal from one of the girls and cried myself to sleep. For the next week I was numb.
I used to think that I couldn't survive a miscarriage, that I would fall apart. I survived. It sucks. But, I've survived. I don't know how to explain it, but, it's a roller coaster of emotion. Almost everyday is good, but some random thing will send me over the edge, and the tears start coming. I pulled myself together enough to enjoy Christmas with the girls, even though we couldn't surprise them with the news on Christmas morning. I had a really rough time in March when a friend had a baby and another found out they were having a girl. And, I know the end of June is coming. Our due date was June 28th. I'll be in St. Louis with a bunch of teenagers, so I'm hoping I'll be distracted enough. Aaron has been a rock. He is not usually a super sensitive guy, but when I broke down he held me and said the right things at the right times. He prayed over me when I needed it most.
I'm not sure how to segue to other topics, so on to the next jumbled mess! I have three half sisters. It's a LONG story, but, short version, I didn't get to grow up with them. One of my sisters is open to a relationship, and so am I! I have 2 nieces I hardly know. They're right around my girls age. How fun would it be for them to grow up together? As cousins! With this relationship comes lots of childhood drama to sort through and lots of areas of forgiveness I need to work through. Things I've held onto for FAR too long. But, I'm ready!
And, lastly homeschooling! We tried it for Kindergarten with Grace. I was unprepared and she was more advanced than our curriculum so we opted to send her to public school. She thrived. Grace loves school and does well. But. There have been some issues of character that we know we need to address. Home seems like the best place to pour our values and love into her, building a strong foundation of character. We're still praying over this and are leaning towards it heavily. Both Grace and Emma are aware and okay with it. They know they'll still see their friends and we intend to do Girl Scouts and other activities to keep them involved.
So there it is, the jumbled mess that has been my life for the last year. I'm sure there's more (much more) but those are the highlights. I wish I knew why. Why do some things happen the way they do? But I don't. And, it's probably a good thing I don't! All I know is His ways are higher. So much higher! He knows what is best for me. He knows what I truly need. He knows how to take my brokenness, my jumbled mess and create something beautiful. He makes all things new! ALL things. In Him, I am a new creation. I am beautiful. The jumbled mess of my life is beautiful because His blood covers it. All of it. And that is something I need to work on. I need to start surrendering everything, all of me. My kids, my home, my husband, the baby we lost, my childhood, our ministry, homeschooling, home ownership, debt resolution, etc. ALL of it has to be surrendered. Because, if I don't surrender, my mess will still be jumbled. And I want something BEAUTIFUL! I want something someone can look at and say, "Wow. After all of that... It's gotta be God." Woo hoo!
I'm not even sure what I'm going to type about. To be honest, I haven't typed on a conventional keyboard in a LONG time. Our laptop cord was broken and that made it pretty tricky to write a post. I guess I'll just type out some musings. If they appear to be a jumbled mess, so be it. I'll take it! At least it'll be out of my head.
What happened in the last year? Well, Grace successfully rocked first grade and is the ripe old age of 7. She is an AMAZING reader! She loves to read. She reads to her sisters, reads to herself. She loves American Girls books, the Little House on the Prairie series (something I'm sad to say, I've never read), her new Bible. Anything she can get her hands on, she reads. AND I LOVE IT! I'm a bookworm by nature and it's so neat to see my daughter delve into books wholeheartedly!
Emma is as precocious as ever. At 5, she's so curious, we think she's going to be a detective or an investigative reporter. She loves playing with Barbies (and drives me crazy because she chews their shoes). She is gearing up to start Kindergarten. My Emma is going to be in Kindergarten! I can hardly believe it. She did a great job at her K screening, impressing all the teachers.
Claire. Oh, Claire. She's so funny. Every time she talks, something hilarious comes out. She loves her "guys", two little boys that are nearly her age. She's a ham. She's also entering the stage of defiance and hitting. Challenges, challenges. Potty training is nearly complete! She showed zero interest until around the time she turned 3. She wears panties everyday, Pull-Ups only at nap and bedtime. Bit by bit, we're getting there!
And finally, Ava. Ava turned 1 not so long ago! The day was full of cake, presents and fun. She's a crawling genius and is pulling up on everything. Grace is adamant that she has seen Ava stand up without any kind of table to lean on. I haven't seen it, therefore, it didn't happen. She is such a joy! Full of "selective smiles" and waves for everyone.
What else? What else? Aaron and I are getting ready to celebrate 9 years of marriage. Nine years! We've been together for 12, married for 9. We've had our ups and downs, our peaks and valleys for sure. But, I'm happy to say that I'm married to a great guy. He's hardworking, loves his family, thinks he's hilarious (which he is...), and is a wonderful God-loving man.
In the last year, we've rearranged furniture. Thought about moving. Worked on becoming debt-free. Loved on some teenagers. Prayed over lots of circumstances. Had a couple of Date Nights. Celebrated the marriage of a dear friend. Friends have welcomed babies both through the miracle of birth and the miracle of adoption. AWESOME! We've watched friends move away, far away, to pursue the ministry God has called them to. Also AWESOME!
We've also had our fair share of heartache. On Thanksgiving 2011, I, on a whim, took a pregnancy test. Much to my shock and chagrin, it came up positive. After some discussion (mostly: 5 kids, we have to move, could be a boy, bet it's a girl, woo hoo, a baby is a blessing, God knows what he's doing) Aaron and I opted to keep it to ourselves. We wanted to hang on to our secret for just a bit. Ava was such a shock to me, I chose to embrace this baby with abandon. I had missed out on so much of the joy with her because I was scared. We kept it to ourselves, reveled in the craziness that was to come. Thanksgiving was fun, because we had a secret. On Wednesday of the following week, I was on the phone with a friend. Aaron said I could tell her, and I did. She squealed with delight, promised to keep it hush and shared our joy. My parents came over for dinner a week later, Thursday, and somehow we told them too. Aaron called his mom, to share the news with her. That night, I started spotting. By Friday evening it was heavier. We made some calls and decided to go to the hospital. Friends called at strategic moments, we gave them a tiny bit of info and asked them to pray. After lots of bloodwork, tests, and ultrasounds we were told that I was either barely pregnant (a week or so along), or losing the baby. We knew I had to be further along, which meant we were losing the baby. I was okay until Sunday morning. I got ready for church, got in the van, and lost it. Aaron looked at me and told me I didn't have to go, that it would be okay for me to stay home. I needed that. NEEDED him to say, stay. So, I did. I went inside, borrowed a stuffed animal from one of the girls and cried myself to sleep. For the next week I was numb.
I used to think that I couldn't survive a miscarriage, that I would fall apart. I survived. It sucks. But, I've survived. I don't know how to explain it, but, it's a roller coaster of emotion. Almost everyday is good, but some random thing will send me over the edge, and the tears start coming. I pulled myself together enough to enjoy Christmas with the girls, even though we couldn't surprise them with the news on Christmas morning. I had a really rough time in March when a friend had a baby and another found out they were having a girl. And, I know the end of June is coming. Our due date was June 28th. I'll be in St. Louis with a bunch of teenagers, so I'm hoping I'll be distracted enough. Aaron has been a rock. He is not usually a super sensitive guy, but when I broke down he held me and said the right things at the right times. He prayed over me when I needed it most.
I'm not sure how to segue to other topics, so on to the next jumbled mess! I have three half sisters. It's a LONG story, but, short version, I didn't get to grow up with them. One of my sisters is open to a relationship, and so am I! I have 2 nieces I hardly know. They're right around my girls age. How fun would it be for them to grow up together? As cousins! With this relationship comes lots of childhood drama to sort through and lots of areas of forgiveness I need to work through. Things I've held onto for FAR too long. But, I'm ready!
And, lastly homeschooling! We tried it for Kindergarten with Grace. I was unprepared and she was more advanced than our curriculum so we opted to send her to public school. She thrived. Grace loves school and does well. But. There have been some issues of character that we know we need to address. Home seems like the best place to pour our values and love into her, building a strong foundation of character. We're still praying over this and are leaning towards it heavily. Both Grace and Emma are aware and okay with it. They know they'll still see their friends and we intend to do Girl Scouts and other activities to keep them involved.
So there it is, the jumbled mess that has been my life for the last year. I'm sure there's more (much more) but those are the highlights. I wish I knew why. Why do some things happen the way they do? But I don't. And, it's probably a good thing I don't! All I know is His ways are higher. So much higher! He knows what is best for me. He knows what I truly need. He knows how to take my brokenness, my jumbled mess and create something beautiful. He makes all things new! ALL things. In Him, I am a new creation. I am beautiful. The jumbled mess of my life is beautiful because His blood covers it. All of it. And that is something I need to work on. I need to start surrendering everything, all of me. My kids, my home, my husband, the baby we lost, my childhood, our ministry, homeschooling, home ownership, debt resolution, etc. ALL of it has to be surrendered. Because, if I don't surrender, my mess will still be jumbled. And I want something BEAUTIFUL! I want something someone can look at and say, "Wow. After all of that... It's gotta be God." Woo hoo!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
A Declaration!
Clearly it's been some time since I have written. I could come up with a myriad of excuses. We've been busy. Had a baby back in May, etc. But frankly, I forgot about blogging. And when I remembered I was either too tired or just didn't feel like writing. But now, I have something to write about.
Ava Hope joined our family on May 19, 2011. She was born with ease (2 pushes, minimal labor) and settled right into the chaos of our lives. She's three months old now and we love her to pieces. She's doted on by her Daddy and adored by her sisters. She slept through the night fairly early, and will now sleep from 9 to 9 with no problems whatsoever. I can't wait to see what kind of personality this little one is going to have. With 3 big sisters, she's going to have to find a way to make her mark. Grace is our sensitive one, with a temper. Emma is our curious one, if it "needs" to be done, she'll do it. Claire is our sneaky one, she's crafty, but it's hard to know for sure if she was the culprit. So, what kind of kiddo will Ava be? Only time will tell.
We love our girls. Four girls is a little nutty, sure. Four girls that were born just 2 years apart from one another. Even nuttier. But, we love them, and we can't wait to see what kind of women they become.
I love going out as a family. The girls are, for the most part, very well behaved children. I've never been too terribly embarrassed. Never had to purchase anything a child has broken. And we always get looks and compliments on the girls. When it was just the three older ones, we'd hear things like, "Three girls. Oh wow. They're so pretty."
Not anymore! Now we hear, "Four girls. How many more are you going to have before you get that boy?" "Four girls. Woah, just wait until they're teenagers." "No boys. (Then they look at Aaron in a very sympathetic way.) You poor guy, they've got you outnumbered."
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Who do you think you are? I don't know you. I don't particularly care for you at the moment, so STOP talking to me. And please stop saying these things in front of my girls! I don't want them to think any less of themselves because they're girls and not the coveted boy. Therefore, I am making a declaration here and now.
DECLARATION:
We have four little girls. Four amazing, fabulous, hilarious, inquisitive, intelligent, unbelievable small people. We love them. We don't think any less of them because they are girls - and neither should you! We were not trying for a boy. We are not ever going to try for a boy. I could not imagine my life with little boys running around. We are actually looking forward to when they're teenagers. We love teenagers! And the day Grace was born, Aaron was outnumbered. So shut it. The fact that we have four children, whatever the gender, is none of your concern. So, unless you want to tell me that we have been incredibly blessed by an awesome God, I do not need your commentary!
I know there's something I should be learning through this. Some awesome thing that God is going to reveal to me one day. I just hope it's soon, because if I hear, "Four girls? No boys?! Maybe next time." just once more... I may go crazy!
Saturday, January 15, 2011
It's A Baby!
We finally had our much anticipated ultrasound on Wednesday the 12th. These things amaze me every time. I can feel the baby move, and I know it's in there. But getting to see our baby on a huge screen, kicking and moving around is super cool!
I had been a little bummed that Grace couldn't come to the sonogram. We chose to send her to school and I couldn't justify taking her out for the ultrasound. Especially because I knew we would be getting a DVD for her to watch. I love having my family with us at these things. There's nothing like seeing your baby for the first time, but to have your kids see their new little brother is sister is pretty special. But joy of joys! A Snow Day! It was the third (and thankfully the last) of the week but it meant that Grace could join our family for the ultrasound!
The suspense was killing me! I wanted to know - is it a boy or a girl? I did the pencil test (it said boy). I took online quizzes (most said girl, but some said boy). I checked the Chinese Gender Calendar (it said boy). I had to know what this little person was. My husband thought I was nuts. He told me to be patient, that it didn't matter. I think because it took me so long to get excited about this baby, I didn't have a lot of time to accept that it would be a boy or a girl. I was just getting to the exciting part, and then we got to find out.
I didn't have time to "want" a boy. After three girls, everyone assumed that I must want a boy or that I needed a boy. Honestly, boys scare me. They're little tornados of noise and destruction. Fun, but loud. And the thought of "another girl" meant I'd have less shopping to do in the long run. I was just excited to see our baby.
Then it came. Wednesday the 12th. We went into the room, got situated and saw our baby. We got to hear the little heartbeat again. And see the heart pumping. We saw a tiny bladder, a stomach, a spine. It was pretty amazing. Our child would not be still, which meant the technician couldn't get a picture of the anatomy. But, she saw it. Twice. And she swears with 100% certainty that we are being blessed with another girl! A girl! Four girls! Isn't that amazing!?!
My husband is not as convinced as the technician. He's excited, and thrilled to be the daddy to girls. It really does take a special kind of man to handle little girls. My girls are blessed to have Aaron for their father. Still, he's waiting for our 3D ultrasound to confirm with his own eyes what I know to be true. We are the proud parents of four beautiful little girls. I can't wait to meet her, and to introduce her to her sisters. Now we just need to agree on a name...
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Life = Chaos
It's been nearly 5 months since my last blog posting. I'd like to say that I had nothing of value to contribute to the internet in that time span. But alas, I cannot. I have been busy. So, so busy. I am the mom of three little girls. I have the privilege of staying home with my children (thanks to my husband, who works hard to make this possible!) I was watching Wheel of Fortune the other night, because I am old, and there was a fellow stay-at-home mom on. She was sweet and stated that she loved staying home because it gave her time to pursue her hobbies. Clearly this woman had only one child. I have no time to pursue hobbies. Heck, the days I can pursue an uninterrupted shower are considered a victory in my book! Blogging would be a hobby. One that I have, until recently been unable to pursue.
For the sake of the reader I'll give a brief rundown of the last 5 months. Because I know you've been dying to hear what's been going on! August was pretty uneventful (from what I can remember).
Then came September! In September I turned 28 and inched my way closer to 30. 30 is (according to one of the students I work with in the youth group) a suitable age for a mother. She believed I was "at least 30" because I had children. How I love that girl! In September I committed murder. Shall I explain? I had gone to a baseball game with a dear friend. We left early because of yucky weather and went to Starbucks, where I had the greatest cup of coffee in my life. Things were good. I went to take her home, we were laughing and talking, and then it happened. I killed our car. Not just maimed it. It died. I hated that car, it was old. It was hideous. It was a little creepy. But it got my husband to work everyday, and it was paid off. And I had to go and kill it. Late at night. In the middle of nowhere. In a torrential downpour. I drove through water. Water that was too high. Water that ultimately led to the death of our other vehicle. This was not a good time in our house. My husband was less than thrilled with my crimes. Praise God for insurance! They paid for our car! Between insurance, early Christmas money, and a little of our own money, we were able to become the proud owners of a paid for minivan! We had discussed getting Aaron a junkie car to get him to and from work. And then came the news. News I was not prepared for. News that blindsided me and made me rely on Jesus.
We were pregnant. Again. Days after the Car Killing I realized my "visitor" was late. Just a day or so, but she's never late. She's pretty trusty that way. So, I bought a test and there it was, clear as day. Pregnant. This was not news that I had anticipated. Nor was it news that I was prepared for, in the slightest. I went through a myriad of emotions. Nowhere in my plans was there a fourth child. Nowhere. It was going to be Aaron and I along with our three beautiful girls. End of story. We'd be out of diapers soon, and moving on to bigger and better things. My husband is awesome. He is always, always thrilled and thankful when he finds out we're having a baby. He tells me he loves me, and that all will be well. And usually, I shake off the shock and move into the joy right along with him. Not this time. This time I was so stunned, so shaken to my core, that I didn't tell anyone, save for my husband, for days. I tried to let it sink in. But it wouldn't. The first friend I told was Carolyn. And she said everything I needed to hear. So did Leann. These two women, whose opinion and wisdom I value more than they could ever know, said and did exactly what I needed. Sweet Facebook messages and cards of encouragement; they were excited for me. They helped to remind me of the amazing blessing and miracle a baby really is. And my mom. In the past, when our babies came at times when we least expected them, she didn't always say what I needed to hear. But this time, God must have whispered in her ear that I needed her. Because she was perfect. I was coming to grips with our new reality. We started to tell friends at church and word spread. People were encouraging and excited. I still hadn't caught that Baby Fever. I needed to hear that heartbeat. I needed to know that this tiny thing consuming all of my energy and making me grouchy was real. At that appointment, our nurse was less than kind, heard the heartbeat for herself and was done. I heard nothing. I was crushed and still not excited. And finally, finally, it came at the next appointment, a whole 15 weeks into the pregnancy. The sound I so desperately needed to hear. The whooshing of a teeny little heart pumping. The same cranky nurse was in a good mood this time. She left the doppler over the baby long enough for me to take it in. My husband and girls were in the room. The girls stopped and listened to their new sibling. It was a great moment. And exactly what my heart needed.
Now, at the moment, Baby Number 4 is 20 weeks along. Crucial development has occurred. I can feel flops and flips daily. In 3 days we'll know if we are having another delicate girl or a sweet baby boy. And I have some peace. I don't understand it. I don't know how we'll afford it. I don't know if we'll all fit into our tiny home. But God does. And that is all that matters. I am learning to trust Him to take care of me. If I let Him take care of me, I can do a better job caring for the needs of the ones I love.
Which takes us to December. I was sick, so sick my first trimester. Prior to Blasor Baby 4 we planned on homeschooling. I believe in homeschooling. I think homeschooling is awesome. I love homeschool families and the values they instill in their children. I wanted this for our family. But, I am unorganized. I love sleep. I have children aged 5, 3, and 1. And I was sick for 2 months. School started out pretty great. And then I was sick. I was tired. We fell behind. Way, way behind. So behind I had a choice to make. I love my children. I want the absolute best for them. And I had to admit, that, in this case, the best was not me. Halfway through December, after much prayer and discussion, we chose to send our oldest, Grace, to public school. She was to start in January at the beginning of the new semester. She was apprehensive but eventually grew to love the idea. Christmas came and went. So did New Years. (Both of which were fabulous! Full of great things like PillowPets and Lock-Ins, but for the sake of time...)
Grace is now a Kindergartener. She just completed her first week in public school with her new teacher. And she loves it! She is thriving, making friends, and having a blast. She got to ride the bus, which she believes is amazing. She LOVES homework! She's definitely my kid! Everyday has been full of new and exciting things for her. We pray for her school, her teachers, her friends, and trust that God is looking out for her, even when I can't be with her.
Our middle daughter, Emma, is adjusting at home. She misses her best friend dearly and has acted out some, but I believe next week will be better. We're still doing preschool at home. It's not quite as time consuming and it can be done one-on-one during Claire's nap.
So, in the last few months I have been up and down. I've felt like a jerk. A big one. I have several friends who are currently struggling with infertility. A monthly battle they wage and pray for the results they so desperately hope for. I have never known this battle. And I never know quite what to say. And here I was, given the gift of another miracle. And I couldn't get excited for the joy that I had been given. I don't understand why some of us are given babies, and some of us have to work so hard for them. I wish I did. I wish I could hug those people I love so much, tell them the right words, and give them the thing they so desperately desire. But I can't. All I know is that every baby, every single one; the ones that are wanted, and the ones that aren't, every baby is a miracle. A tiny miracle that must be treasured. And I will be grateful for the blessings I have. I will continue to pray for my friends, and the babies they have yet to embrace, biological or not.
And I've felt like a failure. I believed (and continue to) in the awesomeness of homeschooling. I talked it up to my family and my friends. I committed to this for our family. And then, when push came to shove, I couldn't do it. I felt like I put our daughter at a disadvantage. I felt like I had failed my husband. I was angry at myself and felt like a fool. But, somehow, God always works things out. Our daughter is doing well at school and seems to be on track with the other kids. We were able to recuperate some of our homeschooling expense. And I am not a failure. I just had to learn that it's okay to say no. It's okay to ask for help. And it's okay to trust that someone else is more qualified in certain areas. Will we be monitoring her schoolwork, checking in on her classroom, and staying actively involved in her education? You better believe it!
So, 5 months later, I am thanking God for the chaos of my life. And wondering what my blog will look like in another 5 months, when baby number 4 makes his or her arrival!
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