Dear Judah

Your first birthday has come and gone. More than two weeks have gone by... and I'm just now sitting to write your birthday letter.

I'm sure you would understand if I gave the excuse, "I've just been too busy or I've not had a moment to..."

Because that would be true. The past few weeks have been very busy.

But it wouldn't be entirely true. 

This excuse might not make sense to you. But my mommy-heart hasn't been quite ready to write your first birthday letter. And my mommy-heart can be a tricky thing.

This past year has been such a joy for me. I just didn't want it to end. I haven't wanted to admit, really admit, that your first year has come and gone. But it has. And I can say it now, if not a little quietly.

A couple of years before you were born I was somewhere. I can't remember where now, but it was away from home. I had Olivia, Deacon and Levi with me and maybe Daddy too. We were busy and there were lots of people buzzing about, so I counted.

I counted the heads. One... two... three...

I counted again. One... two... three...

Everyone was there, but for some reason, I couldn't shake that feeling that someone was missing. I looked around, waiting to see who it was that I was missing... but you weren't here yet.

That kept happening. Sometimes I would get a little panicky about it. And then I would feel a little silly. So I decided to pray and ask God why it was that I was feeling that way.

And then He showed me.

I'll never forget the first time I thought that I might be pregnant with you.

I was downtown and wanted a coffee. But as soon as I walked into the coffee shop, I didn't want coffee anymore. So I got tea. But it just didn't taste right, so I threw it out.

I paused for a moment. Hmmm... could it be? A few days later we would know for sure.

I remember laying in bed with my hand over my tummy and my tears streaming down into my ears. My heart was so full. Yes, that mommy-heart of mine. That one that can be so tricky. It was so happy and full of joy and I wondered who you would be.

I thought of your forming body and that verse that talks about God knitting you together. I pictured His hands at work, even then, in the hidden place of my womb. My heart rejoiced.

I didn't know then that you would be a boy, but I knew if you were what I would name you. I would name you Judah, for my heart was Praising the Lord.

I thought I was done having babies. That's what we had said. We had even given all of our baby things away! My heart was content with that. But I'm so glad God decided something different. For my heart has been full of praise since the moment I knew you were on your way.

As you grow, you will learn that God is always working and preparing us and those around us for... something. Sometimes it may seem like a small thing, an unimportant thing. But looking back you will see that it wasn't unimportant after all. That God had a plan for that something and used it in a very big way.

Adding children to a family is a special thing. It is also a very natural thing. And although every baby is a miracle of God's creation, it is also very normal and not unusual. I know I may be sounding a little wishy-washy. I blame it on my mommy-heart. It can sound that way sometimes.

But what I'm trying to say, is that God used the very natural occurrence of having a baby to do something big in the heart of this mommy.

We are all born for a purpose. God plans the time and place and family He places a baby in. It's never an accident. I want you to grow to believe that, David Judah. He numbers our days before we ever see one of them. And God has a book that He writes all these things down in. He knows us. He loves us. And He uses our lives to change the lives of others.

And God is already using you, sweet boy. To encourage this mommy-heart. To confirm God's blessings over my life. To whisper... I still hear the cries of your heart. Cause sometimes, this mommy-heart cries.

And just as I held you those long hours and days and months when all you did was cry...

God is holding me.

And when I didn't sleep at night, but nursed you instead, breathing you in...

I remembered how God never sleeps, and always tends to our needs.

And when my heart would expand to yet another size and the tears would stream down at your first smile....

My heart would be refreshed at the thought of God's favor over His children.

I have praised the Lord, my son. I have praised Him with my whole being for giving us you. I have praised Him for another chance to be a mommy.

I have praised Him for 10 more little fingers and toes...


















And for the way you just wanted to be held all the time and how you don't mind wearing your jammies to the park....

And for how you loved your first Christmas, even though you napped through the family picture and mommy forgot about you needing to be in it! And the way you are so good at eating your food all by yourself....

 

And for your chubbily scrumptious cheeks (sometimes I eat them!) And for the way you LOVE your lovey (it truly as magical powers) and suck your tongue when you are sleepy...



 





For your ears and your duck hair and the way you meow every time you see the kitties...

 



For your new teeth and the way you love to play in your Pack N' Play... (and how you love balloons!)

 For the way you love your Uncle B. and how you ROCK a faux hawk!

For how I don't have to see your smile to know you are smiling! And the way you are mommy's helper in the kitchen (and yes you are wearing a tie here =)).

 

I am praising Him that you are my fourth blessing (whether you like it or not).

And for the way you are trying so hard to stand even though you'd rather just sit on my lap and smile.

And for how much you love to play with your toys and your brothers and sister. And for how you knew exactly what to do with that cupcake (eat it) and that number one (throw it on the floor).

And for how simply beautiful you are. You take my breath away. I love you my son. Thank you for filling this mommy-heart to overflowing. Happy Birthday.



You Know You're a Momma When...

You pick up 100 Lego pieces in a day and instead of throwing them away, you put them back in the box because you know they will need them for their next building project.

You do 8 loads of laundry in a day.

You load and unload the dishwasher at least twice before dinner.

The only time the house stays clean is when your children are sick.

You reach in your purse to find your sunglasses and instead your hand comes out covered in goldfish crumbs.

You don't hear your name until the 11th time they've said it.

You feel guilty for no reason.

People stare at you in Wal-mart.

You ask your waitress to change the channel on the restaurant T.V. and ignore her belittling stare.

You opt for casual comfort rather than the latest fashions.

You wonder, just what do they do with all of that toilet paper?

You play peek-a-boo through the window of the car while pumping gas... and again people stare at you.

You cry when your child's hamster gets hurt.

You cuddle your hurt boy and kiss his sweaty head, ignoring his puppy dog smell.

You talk about your kids on dates, even though you know you're 'not supposed to'.

You collapse in the bed at the end of the day.

You stay up all night watching your child breathe when they are sick.

Your heart aches with love.

You have all of your lunch dates at Chic-Fil-A.

You stand up for your kids when know one else does.

You feel glamorous walking into church Sunday because it's the first time you've worn make-up in a week.

Your favorite shows are Veggie Tales and Cars 'Number 2', and My Little Pony...

Some of your favorite conversations are with people 3 feet tall.

You cheer very loudly at T-Ball games.

You hear phantom baby cries in the middle of the night.

You hold her hand after someone called her a name... and take captive thoughts of inflicting harm on another child.

You are embarrassed to open your car door.

You step on cheerios and march their crumbs through the house... and in between your sheets.

You wash his camouflage clothes after he goes to bed so he can wear them again the next day.

You swallow your pride and let them dress themselves.

You get your exercise by dancing in the kitchen.

You don't mind smelling like spit up.

You become a pro at hiding greasy hair.

You spend hours begging God in prayer.

You try really hard to believe Jesus wasn't kidding when He said, "Don't worry.."

Johnson and Johnson baby shampoo becomes your favorite scent.

You cry every time your read "You are Special" by Max Lucado.

Wooden spoons have multiple purposes.

Mosquito bites make you angry.

You find dirty diapers in strange places.

You feel like a champion after only 4 hours of sleep.

You consider glue and play dough and crayons and markers and puzzles a great investment.

You send messages of love in lunch boxes every day.

You somehow change an explosive poop on your lap on a crowded air plane and enlist the help of the passenger sitting next to you.

You answer letters to the Tooth Fairy in curly hand writing.

While driving yourself to the doctor, after hacking for a week, your kids ask you if you are sick and you refrain from glaring at them.

You learn to share the gospel in a very simple, childlike way... and cry tears of joy when they come to you late at night and tell you they want to become a Christian.

And then you realize that all the dirty work and long hours and tired shoulders and frustrated moments were all worth it. Because moments like these are why we are here being their mothers. To take them by the little hand, dirty finger nails and all, and lead them to the Saviour who will lead them far better than we ever could.

And we leave them at the cross for a moment, before we pick them up again, and in that moment there is peace. And we wish we could stay in that moment, but mostly we just remember those moments of peace and surrender. Because as mothers it's the hardest thing to hand them over to God and not worry and strive and try harder. Because that is what we do. We mother. And sometimes there is fear and we wonder if it will be enough.

But it will never be enough. Only God can be enough. And we are reminded once again and try and let go a little bit more.

God knows. His heart is more mother than ours. And because He let go of His Son... we can hold tighter to Him.

Happy Mothering.

Goodnight Moon

It's one of my favorites. That little book. I used to have it memorized, now it's only parts I remember.

Bedtime has always been my favorite time of day.

It's still a favorite. But I think my reasons have changed.

Before it was because I was tired. I mean, really exhausted. Mommy was done. I had been going since my feet hit the floor. Giving, giving, giving. There were battles over bowls and cups and the right color. Toy wars had ensued. Sometimes I came out the victor. Sometimes. Discipline had been accomplished. Spankings, timeouts, no t.v., no snack, come inside NOW!

We may have gone to the grocery store, if we absolutely had to. That meant one car seat captive in the back of the buggy, a walking 20 month old beside me and the older 3 year old in the front seat of the buggy. Believe me, this was how it had to be, as funny as it may have looked.

I endured the stares and comments... My you have your hands full! ...You must be military, he's home just long enough to get you pregnant! (really, do people have no couth these days!?) ...God bless your SOUL!  I repeated my rehearsed replies, Why yes I do and I'm so thankful! ... No, I'm not military, but am so thankful for their service to our country, military wives included ... God HAS blessed me, yes. That shut them up, most of the time.

After several melt downs along the way, the kids included, we would arrive home. It was usually nap time by this point. I would quickly deposit the kids in their nap locations, some on my bed with books, others in cribs. Then I would tackle the bags and bags of groceries, which would hopefully last more than a week. This is why I didn't need to go to the gym.

I would try and take advantage of the quiet to get dinner started, but usually got distracted at some point while putting things away. I'd end up cleaning behind the dryer or something and would later wonder why my back hurt.

By the time dinner was well under way there was usually someone on my hip and another one clinging to my leg. I had the other watching Cinderella for sanity purposes.

Daddy would come home. We'd try and have a conversation while inhaling our food over the high volume level of little ones and in between the 20 times I had to get up and go back to the kitchen for something. I'm sure someone had spilled something or picked that time to want to try and go potty and don't forget about the nursing baby who's internal radar senses the precise moment you sit down to eat.

Bath time was essential after dinner. Mashed potatoes were now in ears and caked over eyebrows and they smelled like whatever chicken dish I had haphazardly thrown together. I couldn't risk a tiger picking up their scent in the middle of the night. We would all be wet by the time it was over. But they were clean and smelling so good and I would just breathe them in.

Some nights we would rock and sing and read books before bed. Most nights we would. I would pray over their fuzzy heads as I laid them down in their beds, 1, 2, and 3.  I would sigh a huge sigh of relief as I tiptoed out of their rooms, crossing my fingers in hopes of not having to return sometime in the middle of the night.

Walking down the stairs I felt satisfied. Another day done. I had survived it. A smile would creep over my potato crusted face. I would get to that later. For now, it was the kitchen that must be tackled and then the slippery bathroom and the 10,000 toys that seemed to multiply by themselves which were scattered across the floor, just beckoning you to come and step on one. It may be quiet, but the work was not done.

Many hours later I myself would crawl in bed. I may have tried to read, but wouldn't get very far. The book would have fallen across my chest. I would turn off the light after waking around 2am. I'd make sure the monitor was on. I may have traveled up the stairs just to make sure that tiger hadn't found them and would again revel in their stillness.

During the rest of the night my mind and body would be renewed by precious sleep. Unlikely uninterrupted, but precious all the same.

I would wake again the next morning to more diapers and tantrums and laundry and spit up and... well you probably get the picture.

I'm not proud to admit the survival-mode mentality I lived with in those first few years of mothering. But I was a different person back then. A different mother. I was in a very different season of life and I'd like to think that I've seasoned over time and matured just a bit. Just like with every other thing, I've grown better at mothering the more experience I've had.

Many have commented on how differently I'm doing things with number four. Again, it's a different season, I'm a different mommy.

Tucking them in at night is different too. I'm still tired at the end of the day. They are still loud and still fight and we still battle through the grocery store. But my perspective has been tweaked just a bit. I'm not always in such a hurry to end another day.

If you combine all of my kid's years, then we have celebrated 22 birthdays so far. That's a lot. And I can't believe Judah's first is next month! The more years that flash by, I think the more a Mama realizes just how fast it really goes.

You also realize that no matter what mess or catastrophe may happen in a day, you will survive it. Even if you've been up all night with a sick one, you know you will sleep again. You know the crying will stop and the food throwing and the booger wiping (well, maybe) and the constant bickering and running through the house with muddy shoes... one day we will all have clean houses and we will hate it.

There will be an end to this crazy season of 'mothering'. We will never stop being mothers, but will stop the mothering part. And we will stop tucking them in at night too. They will grow too old for Good Night Moon and I Love You This Much and all my other favorites. Some of mine already have.

That's what I think of when I tuck them in sometimes. So I don't mind laying just a bit longer and snuggling a bit closer. And don't mind giving one more kiss or hug or listening to one more thing that happened in their day or meeting the challenge of tickle me too! They just love that. But I think I love it more.

So as we say good night to our young ones, let's remember that we will one day say good bye to these precious days. We will heave a sigh of relief I'm sure, but I think we'll miss it more. This shouldn't make us sad. Great things and great hope come with every season of life. But maybe it will help to give us a better perspective as we fight off the temptation to rush things and wish it away.

In the great green room there was a telephone
And a red balloon and a picture of--

The cow jumping over the moon

and there were three little bears, sitting on chairs
and two little kittens and a pair of mittens
and a little toy house and a young mouse
and a comb and a brush and bowl full of mush
and a quiet old lady who was whispering "hush"

Goodnight room goodnight moon
goodnight cow jumping over the moon
goodnight light and the red balloon

goodnight bears goodnight chairs
goodnight kittens goodnight mittens

goodnight clocks and goodnight socks
goodnight little house and goodnight mouse

 

goodnight comb and goodnight brush
goodnight nobody goodnight mush
and goodnight to the old lady whispering "hush"

goodnight stars, goodnight air

goodnight noises everywhere

Why We Decided to Homeschool... And Then Changed Our Minds

I have been very slow at posting posts lately. I have had several in the works and for whatever reason, well I could probably name four,  have not been able to finish and publish!

This has been a very difficult one for me to actually write. I've literally started it more times than I know.

I think it's because homeschooling has been such a part of my life since I was in 5th grade. It has played a huge role in shaping the person, wife and mother I have become (good and bad!) .

I love so much about it. I hate so much about it! It can definitely be a topic of one of the most emotionally charged conversations you will have. I know from experience. I think that is because so many have such strong convictions about it. Which is important and can be a good thing. It can also build walls and burn bridges. Both of which I have been a victim of and participator in.

Yeah, I'm so sorry.

Well, to catch those of you up who are not on facebook... We enrolled our sweet Livie Rose in a private Classical Christian school after Christmas.

Surprise!!

I have been asked a lot of questions since then. And I want to take the time to explain where we are coming from and what brought us to this point.


Many of you already know this, but Dustin and I were both homeschooled as children. And when it came time for us to decide what we were going to do for our own children's education it was a lot harder than I thought it would be.

I had always assumed we would homeschool. I was a staunch believer in it. Quite legalistic even. I had pretty much made a blanket decision for all of humanity that homeschooling was the best and only option if you were to produce obedient, God fearing children.

In college I even wrote a few research papers on the topic. Home Schooling Vs. Public Schooling was the title of one. I think I've burned it since... at least I should if I haven't already done so.

But isn't that how it usually is? Most pre-parents have a lot of preconceived notions of how raising children will be. They have it all figured out, until the doctor places that sweet baby in their arms. Can't you envision their panick stricken faces?? Or are you just remembering your own?

See, I began to see homeschooling as a Biblical mandate. When we apply Biblical principles as
though it were a Biblical mandate, that's when things start to get fishy.*

We LIKE rules. Yeah, we really do. It's our nature... the nature that God gave us. He has written His moral code on each of our hearts. We were given the Ten Commandments. The Law. And whether we follow that law or not, we like to make sure others do!

You don't have to dig very deep to see this. Just sit in a room of 2 and 3 year olds for a few minutes and you'll see what I'm talking about. We do not have to be taught this. Again, it's in our nature.

Unfortunately, there is also sin in our nature. So any bit of 'good' qualities we may have are often and quickly warped by sin. And this area is no exception.

We hear a really good Biblical principle and find a really good application of that principle and we automatically assume that EVERYONE should ALWAYS follow suit. (I remember learning in a counseling class I took in college that 'extreme statements' are NEVER good. EVER!)

I am so guilty of this and not just on this issue.

When Olivia was a young toddler I remember talking to a friend who had children in elementary school. They were having a hard time and she said, "Education is the hardest thing about parenting. It's just so hard."

I thought she was overreacting. I mean, really. Education is easy. You just homeschool them! I so unfairly judged her because she had her kids in a brick and mortar school. Sure, you will have hard days and it wont always be easy, but bring your kids home and all of your problems will be solved! Thankfully I didn't say that to her, but that's what I was thinking!

The closer the time came to make that decision for us, the more doubts I had. A lot of change had taken place in my mind and heart regarding this issue. And I wasn't so sure it was always the best option for every family.

I began to understand that I had become super legalistic about a lot of things. I wasn't really looking at people (or myself) as individuals with individual needs. It had become more about fitting into a certain mold so that I would be accepted by my peers, the leaders of the church, even God. I realized I had become more concerned with what others thought about what I was doing than what God might think. Our decision was being motivated by fear. Fear of man.

There was another kind of fear that was a huge motivator. And I think this is pretty common among many (and sometimes justified). Fear that if I didn't homeschool, than I would 'lose' my kids. That they would 'fall away from God'. And ultimately, that I would fail as a parent.

Yes, by putting your children in an anti-God environment 8 hours of their day, you take the risk of that happening. No question. Especially if you are not combating that at home with intentional, Biblical teaching.

But I began to take a closer look at the many homeschool families that I had grown up with. What I found was a little confusing to me. I found that if all of those children were put into a basket and you reached your hand in and grabbed a handful, half would come out following God and the other half sadly lost. They didn't seem to know who they were or where they were going, much less who God was or what He meant to them.

How could this be?

So it wasn't the 'fix all' answer to our problems after all. It didn't come with a guarantee that our kids would 'turn out alright' or that I would even get the 'perfect parent' award.

So maybe it wasn't the best option for every family.

We hesitated.

Things had been so clear before and now we were left with a whole lot of questions that we couldn't find answers to. It's hard trusting God when you can't see the outcome.

To make an already long story a bit shorter...

We ended up enrolling Olivia in preschool at The Parish Church of St. Helena when she was three with much hesitation and trepidation. I was nervous at first. But it turned out to be a wonderful experience for all of us. Especially for my sweet, very rambunctious, very strong-willed three year old, who really did need more than I could give her at the time. I also had a 2 year old and a 6 month old at home and life was really busy for me. Hard even. Very hard.

She ended up staying at that little school for 3 years, including her Kindergarten year. We loved it. I assisted in a preschool class one of those years and had my boys in the preschool program as well. We were all there together. I got to see them on the playground and in their classes. It was so fun.

The following year they were not offering first grade. I wasn't sure what we were going to do. I wasn't 'afraid' of school anymore, the brick and mortar kind that is... Or was I?

I was so comfortable with the situation we had. We were all there together. I loved the environment. Olivia was thriving. Could I put her in a public school?

We explored many options and prayed A LOT! By the end of her Kindergarten school year I was almost beside myself. We were still undecided and I had no idea what to do.

Finally God offered clarity through my husband. Oh how thankful I was for him. He sat me down and said, "This is crazy! You are going crazy! And it's making me crazy!!" He went on to say that he felt God was leading us to homeschool.

At that point I didn't care what he told me to do. I was just glad to finally have an answer and be able to move forward.

That first year was quite challenging. Even though I had been homeschooled I had never actually home-schooled! It was tough, especially since I'm not the nurturing, teacher type. I don't do lesson plans. I find no joy in coming up with fun crafts. Explaining how to add numbers made me feel a little loony at times. And being in a small space with three little ones all day took some major adjusting (attitude adjusting that is)!

It was tough. But I soon found myself learning to love it, if not parts of it. I didn't feel like it was something we had to do to earn God's approval or man's approval. I wasn't doing it out of fear (well, maybe a little). Mostly we were homeschooling because that was what God had lead us to do that year for that child. It was such a relief.

The next year came around and it was still hard. But I felt more confident and everything was just a bit easier than the year before. I added a kindergartner. We were finding our groove and I was enjoying the routine.

Maybe we'll become a homeschool for life family after all!

We were approaching our third year of homeschooling. I was expecting our fourth child. For some reason I just wasn't that nervous about it. It was the first year that I attended our local homeschool conference and didn't burst into tears upon entering the building!

I had a plan. I knew more of what to expect. I knew which curriculum we were going to use. I had adjusted to being with my children all day every day and had come to love it. And I was excited!

The start of our third year was the best by far. It was fun even! Even with a newborn and schooling an additional one (a total of 3) I didn't feel too overwhelmed.

And then...

Wham!!

It stopped working.

It had never been easy. We had our usual ups and downs and ruts as most homeschoolers can relate to. So I think my expectations were realistic as far as that goes.

But it became very apparent that we had hit a wall. I don't know how else to describe it. Other than to add it was extremely intense.

I woke up dreading the day. We couldn't even make it through a devotional. It was emotionally and mentally draining. And I didn't know how to move passed it.

That was the thing. We couldn't move on. I had to stop and that meant getting more and more behind academically. And we were getting absolutely no where relationally either. This was the part that disturbed me the most. 

To sacrifice your child's education for the sake of bettering a relationship makes sense to me.
But sacrificing you and your child's relationship for the sake of homeschooling is stupid and prideful.

That's what we were doing.

I know this sounds a little backwards. If I hadn't experienced it for myself I don't think I would have believed it. Homeschooling is supposed to have the opposite affect. If you have a strained relationship with your child and you are able to focus more on them and their heart through the flexibility of homeschooling, then your relationship should be mended! It worked for me as a young elementary-age child and I had seen it work in the heart of Olivia as a first grader.

So I was genuinely caught off guard when the opposite began to take place. The harder I tried, the further I pushed her away. Is it a heart issue vs. a behavior issue? No doubt. Was I aware of that? Yep. Was I taking intentional steps to address that and not just the behavior? You betcha. Did I have the capability to change her heart? Absolutely not. Never will I ever have the ability to change the heart of my child.

I can do my best to foster an atmosphere of repentance through prayer and teaching and heart focus. But it is ultimately up to God if actual heart change is to occur.

The approach we were taking just wasn't working and her overall spirit was taking a rapid decline. We had to make a change.

A change was needed for other reasons as well.

I have never believed that education is everything. Especially class room education. I truly believe you can produce healthy minded, well rounded, intelligent children in a home education environment. I have seen many encouraging examples of this.

I have also never taken the stance that "It's just third grade" as I've heard many say. I believe it's important. No matter what grade. Each year you are adding to the foundation of education that will take them throughout their entire educational career! If that is not a strong foundation it wont continue to get stronger on it's own. It will get shakier and shakier and will make things much harder for them in the end.

So although education isn't everything, it is VERY important and shouldn't be taken lightly.

During this time of my life a lot was being demanded of me. And maybe the emotional strain was making things ten times harder than it should have been, but I just wasn't doing my job as home-educator well - enough.

Things were falling through the cracks. There were many days that I just couldn't get to everything... or to one of my kids at all. I had a HUGE cloud of guilt hanging over me. I don't need my children to be academic geniuses. But I do want them to have a fair chance and to receive a good education.

I wasn't providing that for them.

I also wasn't providing an atmosphere of learning for Olivia that was suited to her needs. Instead I was squelching them. She is a very bright child. Very artsy if you will. Creative and fun and simply put, beautiful. Gosh, I love this kid. But I am sooo different from her! I admire her abilities and wish I could be more like her and enter her world better than I do. But the fact is, God created me to be who I am... with limitations. I was not cultivating the atmoshpere of learning that she needed to thrive in. In fact, as I mentioned before, the opposite was taking place. None of us (including her brothers) were able to thrive educationally, emotionally or spiritually.

So something had to change.

Some might be thinking, "Well the change needed to happen in you (me) not your educational choice."

Ok, so now's my chance to address the home-schooling Mom, thanks for bringing that up!

I think there is a tremendous burden placed on us home-schooling Moms. By others and by our own selves.

It is ingrained in our thinking that we can be and must be everything to our kids. And when we find ourselves failing in some sense we start viewing ourselves as just that, failures, instead of simply overburdened human beings who, wait for it...  have limitations!

 It's an unfair burden we place on ourselves and others. And it's also unbiblical.

Only Christ can be everything to our children. And that is not conditional on your educational choices. Christ is so much bigger than that.

I'm so glad that I don't have to be omni-present in my children's life to ensure that they will turn out alright. I'm so glad that I can trust a much bigger (than myself) God who cares infinitely more for my children than I will ever have the capability of. And I'm so glad that I don't have to fit a certain mold in order to have God's blessings over my life. In our absolute worst state, God chose that moment to bless us with the most incredible mind-blowing blessing - forgiveness and freedom.

I will finish with this.

It was very scary for us to make this step. It kinda happened fast and unexpectedly, although a lot of prayer went into it. I never would have predicted enrolling one of my children in a school mid-year. This was not the plan. But really I guess you could say it was the plan... I just wasn't aware of it. God had planned this all along.

And I can say that with honesty and assurance and excitement.

I am watching my girl thrive in ways that I've never seen before. She is meeting the challenge. She is loving making new friends. She LOVES her teacher (yes, I've had to deal with some jealous feelings when I've read the "I love you" notes she's written to her). And she is blossoming as we prayed she would. There have been tears. It has been a huge adjustment for all of us. But overall it has been one of the best things that has happened to our family. I have even seen a huge improvement in my boys, who I'm still homeschooling. The tension is gone and they are thriving.  I have more time for them and the difference is undeniable.

I am so thankful for this confirmation.

I know this is really long, but there is probably a lot more I could say on the subject. But I don't want to kick a dead horse.

Just remember, no matter what educational decision you make it will never come with a guarantee that your kids will turn out perfect.  As long as you do your best and what works for each child and stay accountable to God instead of man, well, that's all you can do. And that's simply what we are trying to do.

We are taking one year, one child at a time and trying to be flexible to the changes that are needed. And we are finding freedom in that.

I see now that my friend of long ago really wasn't overreacting at all. Education IS one of the hardest things about parenting. You have to do it! There is just no way around it. But it doesn't have to cripple you either. God really is bigger than you think He is.





*Thanks Russ for helping me put words to my chaotic thoughts. Not that you would ever read my blog, but thought I'd say thanks anyway!

Dear Olivia

My sweet girl had a birthday last week. We celebrated her 9th year. It's surreal almost, how fast this life goes by. While in the middle of it, it sometimes feels like it's moving sooo slow! And then you look up from your day dream and stinkin' 9 years have blinked by!

 

I know you all experience it and I'm not alone in this. But every birthday is just seems to catch me off guard - again. Maybe one day it wont, but I'm not going to hold my breath!

 

Here's my birthday letter to my girl...

 

 

 

 

 

When I look at you now, I no longer see my baby. Although, you will always and forever be my baby girl…

 

I see a beautiful young girl, blooming into womanhood.

 

How can this be?

 

When you were asked if you felt older the day of your 9^th birthday and you said “Yes, I do” I believed you. You seem to look older even.

 

It’s almost as if you are starting to shed your ‘locust’ shell and are climbing into the unknowns of growing up.

 

I loved watching you become a big sister again this past year. You love to be a little mother. And Judah thinks you are his mother sometimes I think! You are so sweet to him and helpful to me. What a good big sister you are.

 

You are in 3^rd grade this year! You are writing in cursive and reading bigger books and learning your multiplication tables. And now that you are going to Holy Trinity, you are even learning Latin and Astronomy and Greek Mythology! I am so proud of you, sweetie. You have been so brave these past few weeks starting in your new class. You made friends your first day and are working so hard. You are like a bright star in the sky, shining brightly wherever you go. Don’t ever be afraid to shine your light, the light of Jesus.

 

I was so excited for you when you started going to your new school. Even though I knew you were a little scared. I just knew that you would love it so much and do so well. And you do and are. Sometimes things change and we change and because of that our plans change. But just because those kinds of things happen, it doesn’t mean that God changes. He always stays the same, no matter what. And He always knows what’s going to happen, even before we do, so nothing is ever a surprise to Him. That’s part of why we can trust Him. Because He always has things in control and always uses the things that happen in our lives for His purpose and for His glory.

 

He has such great plans for you, sweet girl. Because you are so special to Him. He had you be born on the exact day and in just the right family, and oh how glad I am for that.

 

So when you have moments of doubt. When you aren’t sure of your way or you wonder why things are going the way they are. Know that God knows exactly what is going on and what it all means and why, even. And He hasn’t forgotten you or why He placed you where He placed you.

 

We all have moments like that, especially growing up like you are. It’s tough sometimes and we don’t always understand what we are feeling. But that’s ok. It’s just part of it I guess.

 

Mom and Dad will always be here to help you through it. We don’t always do it perfectly, but you already know that. We still wonder what’s going on sometimes and what it all means! Even Mom and Dad. That’s why we all need Jesus and to be reminded of His love and grace and that He is always there leading and guiding us.

 

 

My favorite times is around the table doing our devotion. I’m glad we are still able to do that even though you are going to school. I love that you love the Bible and are learning it.

 

My other favorite time is at bed time when we snuggle and tickle and giggle and get too rowdy and Dad has to calm us down. I love running my fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead and cheeks. I love feeling the top of your head just beneath my chin. You are getting so tall. And soon you will be taller than me! But most people are, so just remember that!

 

Yes, you are a beautiful young lady. But always remember the most important side… the inside. Your heart. We all have to do heart checks because that’s where everything we say and think and do comes from… our hearts. It can be a beautiful place and an ugly place all at the same time.

 

So as you become more aware of your outside and wanting to look pretty, don’t forget about that inside that can start to look ugly sometimes to. Going to Jesus everyday will cleanse your heart and reading His words will renew your mind.

 

I am praying for you sweet girl. Every day. As you grow up and go to school and love your brothers and help mommy. It’s a big job, but you do it so well. And I’m so proud.

 

Happy Birthday, Livie Rose.

 

I love you.

 

Love, Your Mama

A Christmas Story... Again

A few days ago we had some dear friends over for dinner. They came all the way from D.C. (a long way for fish and rice!) But they are just like that. =) They also brought their sweet, new baby girl. My right arm ached (in that good way) from holding her so much. It was sooo good to see them as a family of three. Especially him holding and hushing a baby. I'm so sad I didn't take a single picture. Ugh.

We were talking around the table about Christmas traditions and how Christmas should work in a family. They are thinking about Christmas in a different way this year. A baby changes things...

Afterwards I remembered a Christmas memory that I wrote about last year. It's a favorite. I thought I'd share it again.

I hope you are each having a wonderful Christmas season. I have to say I am truly enjoying mine. There is just so much to be thankful for.

Much love and a Merry Christmas to each of you!

///////////////////////////////////////////////////
Once upon a time...

There was a little girl. Her name was Olivia and it was her 3rd Christmas, although she wasn't quite three.

She was very excited about the coming holiday. Not because of presents or candy, but because she had been invited to a birthday party for Jesus. There would be cake and presents and singing and crafts, but most important she would get to see the Baby Jesus and she just couldn't wait!

Her Mama was very busy this particular Christmas and sadly thought this birthday party was a little silly and quite inconvenient. She had decorating and baking to do. A new baby was coming too and there was lots to get ready for. And chasing after a 2yr. old and 15 month old made her quite tired. She would rather stay home. She needed to stay home.

But it was all her little girl could talk about...

She had lots of questions about that special little Baby. Questions like:

"Where is the baby Jesus?"
"Where is His Mama?"
"Does He have a white kitty?"
"When will I see Him?"
"Will I get to hold Him?"

Her Mama just couldn't say no to that precious little thing. As she dressed her that Saturday morning, putting a little red bow in her hair to match her red overalls, she saw the light in her eye. The giddy excitement that burst over in little giggles and more questions. It was hard for that Mama not to get a little excited herself.

So the excited little girl not yet 3 and the reluctant Mama drove the long way to church. The sky couldn't have been clearer. The sometimes green rivers were such a vibrant blue as the light from the sun made them gleam. They looked so happy. It might have helped that Mama to feel a little less tired and a little happier too.

As they pulled into the parking lot the Mama quickly realized they had arrived late. No one else was walking in with packages in hand. She noticed the air felt a little more frigid as she couldn't quite get her coat to button over her wide girth. She positioned her scarf a little better so that it covered her protruding front.

She thought of her babe within. How cozy and warm he was. Then her thoughts turned to the young mother long ago who had carried the babe within her willing body...

Had it been cold then too?
Had she been scared?
Did she feel alone, abandoned by her loved ones?
Did she have doubts?
Did she doubt God's plan?
Or was she at peace?

What this Mama didn't realize was that she had thought a lot about that little Baby too and a lot about that young mother. Her own time was coming near and she was feeling heavy and tired and weepy and what was it like riding on a donkey through the desert so close to delivering? Could she have done that, she wondered? What had it been like not having anywhere to go? Knowing that the One she was about to usher into this world deserved to at least be wanted. Did her heart sink as she walked or most likely shuffled into that stable-cave? As she laid on the dirt and straw, did it poke her? Did the smell make her nauseated...?

She couldn't help but wonder.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the little hand that held hers, it pulled excitedly, "Now, Mama?" She was so anxious to see the Baby.

"Not yet, sweety. We have to go to your class first and wrap our gifts so that they can be given to someone who otherwise wouldn't have any presents this Christmas."

She didn't understand why she had to go to her class first. She wanted to see the baby Jesus first. Thankfully she was soon distracted by her friends and the fun job of decorating wrapping paper.

Her Mama moved onto the sanctuary where she would wait with the other mothers, to listen to a devotional. She noticed the manger on the stage with the blanket of clean white tucked snugly inside. Her thoughts again went to that night long ago...

What would it have been like to give birth in such a dirty place? Did she even notice through the pain? Was Joseph scared too? Did they have help or was it just the two of them? Did He come quickly or did she labor long and hard? What was it like holding him for the first time? Was she exhausted or was her strength renewed as she took Him to her breast? Was she overwhelmed with that sweet, powerful motherly love or the awe of her Savior, or both? She could only imagine the sweet tears that flowed...

Again her wonderings were interrupted as the devotional began.

Soon the children were heard as they began walking down the hall to the sanctuary. They walked in each carrying the gift they had just wrapped. A proud Mary and Joseph took their seats on the stage on either side of the wooden manger where a fake baby Jesus lay peacefully on the scratchy straw.

As soon as her little black patent-leathered feet walked through the big doors her eyes began searching. The Mama watched her closely hoping she wouldn't make a scene as her teacher directed her over to the tree where she was to place her gift and told her to go find her Mama.

She quickly stood so that her little one could easily find her. The confused little girl walked over to her Mama and loudly whispered, "The baby Jesus is up there and we neeed to go see him!"

"It's hard to be patient, I know," Her Mama whispered back. "But we are just going to have to wait."

She ants-ily waited on the seat through the story that was read and the songs that were sung. The Mama was getting a bit antsy too, not knowing how long she would be able to hold her back.

They were then dismissed to the fellowship room for the birthday cake and to sing "Happy Birthday, Jesus".

Hearing the word cake, the almost 3 year old momentarily forgot about the little bundle up front and her long awaited mission. The Mama followed and helped her find a spot and just the right size piece of birthday cake which she quickly inhaled. She hadn't forgotten after all.

One look from her little one and that Mama knew, there was no more putting it off. She took the small hand in hers and they walked together, slowly into the sanctuary.

As they walked through the big doors, the Mama noticed how calm and quiet her normally rambunctious little one was being. It was if what they were about to do was something very sacred. And to her girl, she guessed it was.

The room was empty as they approached the stage and the manger. Mary and Joseph had since gone to partake in eating cake. All that remained was the little plastic baby laying on top of the yellow hay.

"Is that a manger?" she asked.
"Yes, it's a manger" answered her Mama.
"But that is for horses!" she cried.
"Yes, for horses" her Mama thought to herself.

As they got closer the little one became very still and just silently stared into the sleeping face. It was the kind of doll that closed it's eyes when it was laid on it's back.

She then reverently asked if she could hold the baby Jesus.

Here Mama carefully picked up the bundle and gently placed him in her tiny arms.

The small girl stared in awe at this little baby. She hugged him and kissed him and pressed her cheek against his. She then carefully placed him back in the manger. That manger for horses.

The Mama stepped back, thinking this magical moment had ended. But then she heard, "Mama, I just have to hold him again."

She thought her Mama-heart would burst as she watched her precious one gently pick up the baby Jesus one more time. She began to have the same sense of awe as she watched the God of heaven and earth show Himself to this little girl of not quite three in such a simple yet profound way.

The young one hugged Him and rocked Him, kissed Him and loved Him. And her Mama loved Him too.

This is how it had been.

There was no doubt in that Mama's heart. This raw love and adoration that radiated from her little girl's face must have been how the first ones to hold and see this Child looked and felt themselves. She herself felt a sense of what the young mother and father, the shepherds and later wise men must have experienced as they beheld the Savior-Baby for the first time. The awe they had felt and undoubtedly the love that had overwhelmed them for that little Baby they had never seen before. But now would never again not be able to think of. The moment had left them changed.

And she had been changed as well. A sense of knowing came over that Mama as they walked out of the sanctuary hand in hand. An understanding that God had been showing her something through her little girl who had such a keen sense of understanding the importance of this little Baby. And the genuine, innocent love she had for Him.

Driving home she was thankful she had followed her 2 year old to the party that day. That she had been led by that small hand down the center isle to meet the baby Jesus in a way she never had before. That she got to witness the innocent, unadulterated love of a child for the Savior of the World who came as a baby so long ago. It was necessary that He come as a baby. It was necessary He enter our world just as we did. It is necessary that His birth be celebrated each year because it meant so much.

And it was necessary for that Mama to see Him through the eyes of a child, her child that Christmas.

What a truly special moment for both of them. Even if her little one didn't remember in years to come, she would and would never be able to not remember. Just as the shepherds, she had been a witness. She was so thankful God had allowed them both to experience Him in such a special way.

Here is Olivia, she had just turned 3 and was meeting her new brother, Levi for the first time. This picture captures her perfectly and is one of my all time favorites.

We hope you catch the excitement of Christmas this year and experience Him in a special way too.

Merry Christmas!

The War

Today I feel war weary.

I have been waking up tired. Timid and slow to face the day.

There have been other times when I have felt war weary. Tired of fighting against... there is always something to fight against.

I guess these times of weariness are inevitable. For this is a weary world.

"Do not grow weary in doing good..."

I wonder how this is possible. Truly. On this side of things I mean. When there is always some frustration you keep bumping into. And you wish you could just ease by, but you can't. So you keep pushing and pushing.

My muscles are sore and my heart aches.

So today I've decided not to fight (as much). I'm not saying this is a good thing. In a way I'm just giving up. As a mother, you have to fight. Fight for discipline. Fight for naps. Fight for order and control.

But I'm tired of being the enforcer. The referee. The all around bad-guy.

Can I say these things?

Because we aren't really allowed to give up. To give in.

But I am today.

Don't worry. It's not for good. Just a little break from the war. What's that called R &R? Yeah, that's just what I need...

The Mom Look

Today is Saturday (if you weren't aware).

It's my 'free' day.

It sounds better than it actually is. Because although I don't have the weekday responsibilities looming over me, I have Saturday responsibilities looming instead. But don't get me wrong. I love Saturdays. This glorious day allows me to get caught up with the stuff that's fallen between the cracks during the week.

I should be catching up on dusting right now. But instead I'm catching up on blogging...

Last Monday was... well... a Monday.

It had been a day and half since my last shower. It had been two weeks since I had attempted the mountain of laundry. And it was the first day back to school (since Friday) and for some reason that always overwhelms me just a bit.

I had forgotten to eat breakfast as usual. I was feeling a bit on edge due to the 4 cups of coffee I had ingested so by 11:00 I was shaking-starving and quickly inhaled leftover rice and beans from the previous night. Good protein, right?

So when my husband called and told me that he was on 'this side of town, so how about we meet for lunch?' I of course said yes! (this never happens) But I looked down in horror at my appearance, plus I wasn't even hungry!

Oh well, I thought. I'll just throw on a hat. Besides, no one will notice and I can just sit and enjoy his company.

I didn't realize that my brother-in-law would be with him. Don't misunderstand, we love Brandon and it was a pleasant surprise. Until he said...

"Whoa... you got the Mom Look going on today!"

So, someone had noticed...

I laughed (really) and agreed with him. It was bad. So bad in fact that I took a picture.

I'm not sure why I enjoy humiliating myself...

I couldn't shake his comment for the rest of the day. Actually it's been a week. (but believe me, it's a good thing)

The Mom Look

I have laughed to myself repeatedly this week. It's true. I have the Mom Look these days. But I'm ok with that. More than that actually, I'm proud of it.

Lil' Mom in training

Because, guess what. I'm a MOM!! A mom of four little ones and they are my life, so why shouldn't I look the part?

If you are a mom and have never read, "Loving the Little Years" by Rachel Jankovic, you've just got to stop what your doing now (but finish reading this first!) and order it on Amazon. I promise you'll love it!

I LOVE what she had to say on "Me Time" and what that should mean to us moms. Here is a little excerpt from that chapter.

 

 

 

Scars and stretch marks and muffin tops are all part of your kingdom work. One of the greatest testimonies Christian women can have in our world today is the testimony of joyfully giving your body to another... the testimony of women who know the cost and joyfully pay it is profound. So make sure that you aren't buying into the world' propaganda. While there are a great many rewards, the sacrifice is very real. The reason so many women don't want to do it is because it is very hard and has very real costs. But the answer to these obstacles is not to run away in fear as the world does, but to meet it with joy, and in faith.

My very kind and wise husband once left a note for me on Easter morning, two weeks after Daphne was born. He wrote, "To my wife, before she even goes near the closet on Easter morning."... In it, he encouraged me to realize that there was no more fitting way to celebrate Easter (or any part of the Christian life) than in a body that has been undone on behalf of another.

So realize that your body is a testimony to the world of God's design. Carry the extra weight joyfully until you can lose it joyfully. Carry the scars joyfully as you carry the fruit of them. Do not resent the damages that your children left on your body. Just like a guitar mellows and sounds better with age and scratches, so your body can more fully praise God having been used for His purposes. So don't resent it, enjoy it!

I have definitely needed to be reminded of this 3.5 months post-baby. Having children takes a toll on your body, your mind and soul.

You are no longer just a woman or a wife. You are now a short-order cook, potty trainer, teacher (whether you home school or not),
etiquette instructor, launderer, cleaning service provider, nose wiper, nurse, chauffeur, kisser-of-boo-boos, discipline-er, etc...

And as our pastor's wife just said last Friday at our Play and Pray, "I am so proud of you all! You have the hardest job in the world." Gosh we need to hear that. Because it is hard and sometimes we can get lost. Lost climbing the mountain of laundry.

Motherhood changes you. And we must embrace that. Otherwise we will come to resent our mothering.

But at the same time, we can't let "The Mom Look" define us and take away our femininity. It's important to remember who we are for our own sanity and it's important for our husbands and children too. (oh gosh, I really need to hear this today too!)



In that same chapter Rachel says this,

Your body is a tool - maintain it. Having sacrificed your body for your children is no excuse for schlepping around in sweatpants for the rest of their childhood (oops!). When you were eighteen, you might have been skinny without trying. In your thirties, after having had a pile of kids, the chances are good that you will need to try.

 



I remember my 25th birthday. I had just given birth to my third child (literally the day of). We celebrated with my family a week or so after. I was so touched when my sister-in-law, Mom and sister decided to give me a 'make-over' as a gift. I tried not to let the thought seep in that they were doing this because they thought I needed it! Instead I enjoyed the pampering.

I will be forever grateful for that sweet act of kindness! I had really let myself go. I hadn't even realized it until I was in the store trying on clothes and shoes... when was the last time I did this! Amy my s-i-l was wonderful at helping me find a new style that I was in desperate need of.

That was five year ago. And I have learned so much about dressing nice and looking pretty for my man. Which doesn't always mean make-up and matching accessories.

But I find myself a little stuck these days. And I need to find myself... again.

I am going to have the Mom Look every now and then. And I'm ok with that, because that's where I am in life right now. I am a busy, homeschooling mom of four.

My body (and appearance) is bearing the fruit of motherhood. And that is a blessing that I do not take for granted. What a small sacrifice it is.

But I'm also a wife.

And a woman.

And it's important not to forget that. That's why just the other day I went and bought some new perfume and some stud (baby-pulling proof) earrings... and resisted buying new comfy 'workout' clothes (quotes b/c I don't wear them to work out in!).

Yes, it's fun to indulge and pamper yourself just a bit. But don't forget the true renewal and reminding you of who you are will only come from God and His Word.

This is so hard for me. But it truly works! God's Word is alive and it speaks to our hearts, not matter where we are stuck in life.

If you have an extra minute, skip on over to my friend's blog where she writes about some practical how-to's on how to make time for this. She should know, she's got 10 kids! And is still homeschooling 8 of them! And she's a real person! You'll love her.

Ok, back to my Saturday catch-up day! I'm getting a late start, but that's ok. I love sharing my heart with you and it helps me better understand what's going on inside me too. Thanks for the therapy!

Snapshots

If you expected to see pictures, you will be disappointed.

No one was holding the camera at the moment needed to capture just the right angle...

of my pointed finger

my hands holding my forehead

the clench of my jaw

the tears that threatened to spill

my furrowed brow

the look of disappointment in my eyes

my head bowed over the bathroom sink, crying out but hearing nothing

the white knuckles that gripped the steering wheel

the look of fear in his eyes

her clenched jaw mimicking mine

the tears that spilled over his red-round cheeks


Funny how we only capture the sweet moments, the good and easy times. The times that make us look good and sweet and easy going.

But in reality, we are faced with frustrations moment by moment that threaten to undo us, and often does. Today I was undone. I failed as a mother. As a teacher. As a wife.

Thankfully there is tomorrow - fresh, with no mistakes in it!
There is a God, who's mercies will be new and fresh tomorrow too.
There are second (and third and fourth and fifth, etc..) chances found in Him.
There is His grace and forgiveness and redemption.

And there will be a cup of coffee ready to greet me, no conditions pending... good night!

Some Bad Advice

Not sure if any of you are Reader's Digest fans. We are. We enjoy the occasional mindless reading on a fourth grade level. And the information you can glean, not to mention the funnies, well... you just don't know what you're missing!

As I was flipping through the little magazine this past weekend I came across something that made me stop, laugh and then read out loud to Dustin in disbelief.

He laughed too, rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. Should we really be surprised anymore?

I know you are dying to know what it was that we read, so here it is:

Wacky Health Tips That Work

1) Eat Sugar, Act Sweeter: University of Kentucky researchers found that people who drank a glass of sugar-sweetened lemonade acted less aggressively than people who had the same drink with a sugar substitute. Self-control takes a lot of energy, and the glucose may help give your brain the fuel it needs to hold back hostility and be more positive. But instead of binging on sweets, stick to a balanced diet to avoid blood sugar spikes and dips.

2) Curse to Kill Pain: You'll feel better if you let loose with some profanity after you whack your funny bone. U.K. researchers found that participants who repeated a swear word could keep their hands in freezing water longer than those who repeated a non-curse word. One caveat: The trick works better if you're not a regular potty mouth!

3) Make Important Decisions When You (Really) Gotta Go: People with full bladders may be better at making big decisions, according to a Dutch study. If you show self-control in terms of a bodily function (such as going to the bathroom), you're more likely to show self-control in decision making, holding out for a long-term reward instead of jumping on an impulse.

Yes, quite wacky I know. But what's even wackier is that there are actual people sitting behind desks thinking of these ridiculous things to research!

While reading these crazy 'tips' I was reminded of some of the words of wisdom I heard repeated over and over at a local homeschool conference I attended a couple of weekends ago. They were such a good reminder to me to keep going and to not get discouraged in the crazy life as a homeschool mom of (now) 4.

It's easy to compare our lives and children with those around us and get discouraged or even scared when things don't quite match up. I know I do this. Academically, spiritually, behaviorally, etc.

I need to be reminded that we are supposed to look different because we are doing things differently! Not better. Just different. And that each and every child is sososooo different! Why force them all through the same mold?

It would be silly for us to look to the 'world' (anything outside of God's way) for advice, encouragement or even practical how to's. I think Reader's Digest proves this point! Not that God can't use anything, but He wants to encourage us primarily through His Word and by those who are like minded in His ways - not Dr. Phil. (sorry Dr. Phil fans)

We are headed into homeschool year #3. It's the first year that I haven't dissolved into tears at the thought of it. Maybe the 3rd year's a charm...?

I pray God continues to hold us up and to grant wisdom. Parenting/homeschooling is such a tough job. I need all the help we can get.

Maybe I should load up on some sugar. I feel my energy (and sweetness) level waning...