A Grateful Perspective

My husband and I had a conversation tonight about the art of living on a budget. I call it an art because it really can be a challenge to live within your means while still feeling the reality of the utter luxury we have in our "means." It's so easy to lose oneself in the "new fads" of today. My kid needs the newest of this. My wardrobe is not complete without the newest of that... Now don't get me wrong a little spoiling is not a problem, but it's important to live within our means.

Living within your means is not popular. Look at the government for example (no, I really won't go there). Commercials fail when we live within our means. Fad fashions fail when we live within our means. Extra storage space fails when we live within our means. And Spring cleaning gets easier when we live within our means.

But for some reason living within our means has become a synonym of the word poor. It's like choosing not to have credit card debt is a lifestyle of the past - everyone is just getting by on the minimum payments, John, get with the program here. It's like going out to get an ice cream cone as a family is no longer spoiling, but an expectation. I sincerely hope and pray that a gift or a random spoiling is not normally considered an expectation in the eyes of my children. They have no right to spoilings - and it's not because I'd rather be selfish and keep the extras for myself. But it is out of the same sincere love for my kids that I give and I choose not to give.

There is such danger in raising a kid that expects overabundance. I'm not talking about expecting food and clothing and shelter and the basics - I certainly hope Rachael and Abi expect, and even beyond that, trust that all that they need will be provided for them by Matt and I - And really where the credit is due: God. But I believe the value in gratefulness is portrayed in not getting everything you want. When you don't have all the new trends you are given the opportunity to value what you do have. I'm not saying we're planning on intentionally depriving our kids, but I am saying that need and want are two different things that God is entrusting us to teach our kids (as we learn ourselves at times. [clears throat]).

Growing up not once did I doubt my parents' love for me. Not once did I doubt their dedication in raising my sister and I to value and appreciate and respect and have self-control about things. Sure I wanted stuff I didn't get. Sure I wasn't wearing the coolest clothes. Sure we didn't have the newest toys. And I don't regret that. I don't feel a loss in my childhood. Yes, my sister and I were teased - what kid out there wasn't teased? My sis and I didn't look like slobs. But we also didn't buy our clothes from a designer shop. My mother was frugal and she still is darn good at being frugal without looking poor. (Holla, Mom!) Thrift store shopping is an art, not just a fun hobby. I mean come on, if you can enter a thrift store and leave with a wardrobe that looks like you shopped at Kohls then you need some serious props given. (Again, Holla, Mom!)

Growing up I remember having the cousin who "had everything." Now I know quite well that they didn't really have everything, but it sure seemed like it. I remember how different it was to meet blessed people in my life and those that felt the need to make you feel jealous of their wealth. I remember thinking others spoiled and mean for their pride in having the newest and "best" things on the market. But I also remember going home to my familiar dolls and toys and enjoying hours of play without begrudging my parents for deprivation. I spent hours on end outside playing when I grew up and to this day I really can't remember much of anything in particular that I played with out there. So whomever claims that stuff makes memories, I know that one's a lie.

I'm not just some bitter poor kid. I just have been taught to find value beyond things. And I hope to teach that to my kids.

The youth group is getting ready to have their annual 30 hour famine again. It's the time of the year when we intentionally look at other countries and the poorest of the poor through the eyes of Christ. We try our hardest to drop our spoiled natures and I-can't-believe-I-don't-have's to see true need at it's purest form. Talk about humbling, people! Every year God uses the 30 hour famine to blow me out of the water. Everything I thought I needed suddenly looks quite stupid. Everything I thought my kids needed suddenly pails in comparison to the utter raw need. Not once have I ever doubted that my kids would be able to eat or survive a common illness. And it's not just for the sake of guilt that the 30 hour famine exists. What good is a 30 hour famine if it remains in a once per year category?

Life changes occur when we see our families in the real light.

We are among the riches people in this world if we own a car and live in a stable home and have food on the table and money to spend at a store and health care and... and... the list can go on and on. It's not enough to merely smile at that fact - God calls to my heart, "How are you using that child?" It's not enough just to sponsor some kid and think that cuts me off the hook. How am I teaching my kids to value? What am I teaching them to value? What am I teaching them about wants and needs? What am I allowing myself to think about wants and needs?

To much that is given, much is expected.

I used to think that when the Bible talked about that it was referring to just a spiritual gift. Or maybe even just those that are really wealthy. It was so much easier to exclude myself from that category and think of all my I-can't-s and my if-only-we-had-more-money's.

What a challenge to be conscious of the underlying messages I allow myself to receive through commercials. Or will I allow myself to live a life in which I'm so stuck in it's-never-enough that I can't move forward to I-have-plenty,-here-have-some!


Am I so stuck on me that I am forgetting my work here?


Rachael and Abi, when you grow up, I really hope you won't look back and think "we never got everything we wanted" but instead think, "we got more than we needed." And if ever you have some desire to parent your kids in a different way than I parented you, please just know in your hearts, that I tried so hard to show you Jesus - and yet I failed in so many ways.


May my next opportunity to teach gratefulness and perspective be a success.

- in Christ alone.

Accepting What Now?

I was reading Job yesterday. Chapter one: Job is introduced as a known, faithful, obedient and relentless follower of God. God offers Job to be tested by Satan. Job loses all his wealth, all his children are tragically killed, and his cattle are ransacked. Job's wife is the sole survivor and when you meet her character in chapter 2 you may wonder why. Yet, Job still praises God. Chapter 2: God offers Job again and Job loses his health. Job's wife "encourages" Job to just casually "curse God and die" - oh the picture of exhortation. Job's response?

"Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?" (ch.3, v.10)

Can we say heart-piercing?

mmm. Yowza!


How easy it is to complain. Ask anyone and I'm sure they could come up with a laundry list of frustrations in their little world. Hello? Could someone help me carry mine? And amidst my complaining I read the words, "Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?"

ZING!

You know it's been a challenge to decipher the truth amid the lies we are whispered daily, sometimes nearly every minute. We're given the opportunity to follow truth to our Lord or follow lies to a desert-wandering path. And when we find ourselves out in left field, thanks to our apple-biting nature, we find the tumble weeds aren't enough company to sustain (oh but we're going to try first). And we need to prodigal it back to the Father with a list of apologies. But we have to first realize that the Father's perceived "pig slop" would be better than the dust we stand in before we can find ourselves robed and at His welcome-home-party table.

You know, it's so easy to get discouraged. Trials seem to constantly be hiring and for some reason we keep submitting our resumes, sometimes unknowingly.

Sometimes working out our salvation feels like a once-a-month shopping trip with the gimpy cart and a late-napping, fall-out expressing toddler. And it's in those moments that I desperately beg and plead for the Father to remind me of His open-door policy because it's so easy to feel like God's a complaint box that never gets weeded through. But no matter how many times I get stage fright and feel overcome by the serpent's whispering, I need to keep reminding myself that when that curtain comes down the only encore will belong to Jesus and Jesus ALONE!


- wrestling out this faith journey.

Raining and Thoughts

This weekend was a good one, even though it was a hard one. The reality of our dear brother in Christ, David Cowherd, really being gone is a mixed bag of emotions. While life "goes on" here on this side of heaven, we miss his smiling face. Continued prayers for Jeanie and family. The visitation is tonight and the funeral is tomorrow.

Yesterday was a quiet day and today feels like a repeat of yesterday.

I have found sometimes in my walk with Christ that there are high moments and then the valleys. Valleys can be brought on by many things. And it's odd, but while in a valley you can still have joy in Christ. You'd think a valley would just be consumed with heaviness and darkness. But amidst the trials there is still unwavering hope - hope in faithful Jesus.

But there are still times that bring on silence, thoughts whirling in your head and times of just being and doing with little thoughts. Oh the value of a walk or a mundane task amid "quiet days." There's just been a lot of process lately. A lot to think on. A lot to surrender.

Abi's smiling face today has been lovely. She has two little curls on the top of her head that appeared after bath time this morning. The two curls counteract each other resulting in both standing straight-up on her head in one Alfalfa sprout. It's super cute to witness the both bobble as she crawls about with a smile devouring her face. Amazing the affects of a full belly and teething meds.

Rachael is having a cute moment as well, setting up a picnic for Abi - which Abi promptly mauls and then claps. Rachael seems only mildly affected by Abi's inability to "play right." It's fun to have two, even when they clash at times. And it still amazes me how much that toddler just loves that little baby - right where she's at.

Matt and I have been trying to eat healthy again. HA! Isn't that the story of our lives. But Matt stumbled across a book called "Eat this, not that" and it's been helpful in eating REALISTIC healthy things. Let's be honest, people, we just don't have the time or determination to spend a whole afternoon making one dinner. Maybe that's part of the cooking/workout plan - burning the calories in the food prep. Regardless, we're exploring the possibilities of eating more healthy things without breaking the bank or feeling the need to jump on the organic fad. Let's just say the only "Go green" we do is to "Go Green, Go White" (Michigan State - oh how my hubby would be proud.) Don't get me wrong, taking care of the planet is a good thing, I'm just not into the craze of walking on eggshells as if the planet's going to explode tomorrow. Maybe I'm just broken, but I think the world is going to look like we lived here after we're gone - cuz, you know, we lived here. And I'm probably wrong - I have been in the past and will be again- but I feel like a lot of the "Go Green" is just a new fad, like skinny jeans and mismatching clothes. (Feel free to throw your tomatoes now. hehe.)

We've been going to the gym 4 times per week - no they're not giving out door prizes. The kids enjoy their little daycare play zone and Matt and I "enjoy" killing ourselves for the sake of health. It's actually quite nice to relieve stress and work hard, even at the expense of sweat dripping down your back. The gym can be so selfish, like the one "nicely fit" mom who dropped off her very overweight preschooler with fruit roll-up in hand into the daycare and then proceeded to the tanning room to tan her sculpted self. But we believe that the gum can also be a statement to God that we want to keep His vessel healthy and ready to go wherever He leads. We may not be marathon ready, but we'll try to be run-a-flight-of-stairs-without-dying ready.

Well I better get going, Rachael notified me that she needs a tissue (she wiped her nose on my shirt while snuggling. mmmm.) and Abi has begun her daily curtain attacking. It's raining outside. Despite common opinion of the rain being a nuisance, I like it.

Hope you all are enjoying your day and have enjoyed your weekend.

Awaiting Snow White Mornings

So I feel like a kid waiting on Santa Clause today - only I know Santa doesn't exist, but I'm still stoked! Today we get our new mattress. This may not sound too exciting to most, but to us it's about as thrilling as it comes! We've been blessed with hand-me-down mattresses thus far into marriage and while those are wonderful in that we didn't have to buy a mattress, we have experienced the wonder of "broken in" mattresses for too long. We've abandoned the idea of a springed mattress and have moved into the foam world. We viewed a sleep number bed, and bounced around on a tempur-pedic (WAY expensive and actually quite warm to sleep in as well) and breezed by the latex mattress world (new innovation, wonderfully comfortable, CRAZY expensive). So we found ourselves landing in the knock-off memory foam world. And let me tell you, that land in comfy and supportive. =)

So today, yes on April Fool's Day, we will get our mattress delivered and thus bask in the hope of tomorrow being a Snow White morning - birds chirping, cute and furry animals rustling about outside, singing a little song... Well, maybe that's asking too much, but no more back pain would be nice! =)


Anyway, that's all my rambling for today. And when you come and visit us later... NO! YOU CAN'T JUMP ON OUR BED! hehehe.

Have a great day, all!

Memories

I ran across an old Client's mother today. I was suddenly back in my old office - funny how memories work. Back came that previously-familiar awkward balance of confidentiality and still trying to be personable. It blew my mind to reminisce on my Rachael being 11 months old when I first came home to be a stay-at-home mom. Abi was still a hopeful idea as we knew little about her, but her strong kicks. That feeling of being on the brink of a world-flipping and yet still trying to keep your job and life in line. The hours of caring for others' children in therapy and group therapy sessions while wishing to just get the privilege of only taking care of my own. Oh the days of having a split heart - one desire to help others while that ache of someone else caring for my responsibility - my baby. And my client's sweet, smiling face. So funny the memories of encouraging my client's and client's family's pursuit of Christ, while trying not to lose my job in the secular world. It all came flooding back in that odd moment when the past met the present for a few minutes.
I was reminded that life is so short and so worth priority changes.


A dear member of our church suddenly passed away in a tragic plane crash yesterday. Matt had the hard job of accompaning Pastor out of the newly widow's house to share the news and help the widow call her children. In one instance an always-willing Bible teacher, father of three girls, husband of 51 years, and fellow runner after Jesus went to meet Christ face to face. Like Pastor said last night to his awaiting Bible Study class, "His faith became sight." It still feels surreal to me. I expect to see him on Sunday, him passing his Christ-honoring encouragement out to all he encounters. I still expect to see him in the church hallway, sharing about the utter joy he has for a new thing God taught him during his quiet time in the Word. We're all a bit shaken up. David Cowherd will be missed so much. And yet something in the back of my mind makes me smile, a sad hurt smile, but a deep smile nonetheless that after countless years of pouring himself over the Word, soaking in all that the Word projects about Jesus, and spending countless amount of time in conversation with others -seeking Jesus in all ways, our dear brother, David's face must have been a sight to see when he opened his eyes and saw... Jesus!...



Today just feels like a quiet day. A day of thanks for how far God has brought me, but also just a day to struggle to find words. A day to close my eyes and find silence. So many lessons He brings to mind. So many unanswered questions. And yet such hope that He has set before us.

Life can be so short. How will we be remembered? What difference will we make? What Kingdom work will we do?

That more would be left than our possessions.

That Christ would be lifted higher.



- A crown to lay at His feet. -

Outside

The spurts of beautiful weather stampedes my little clan outdoors. Oh how we long for the fresh air, wind in our hair, and freedom to RUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN!!!

So here's a taste of our adventures outdoors.

Enjoying the ride.


Our lucky tag-along choosing to push the baby.


Daddy's helper walking Dakota.


Feeding the ducks.


Gotta love some fun with the cousins:

Bekka (3 yrs)


John (2 yrs)


And Josiah (10 mths)


Josiah doing what he does best - being cute.

Tunnel slides


the favorite... swings (esp. with Daddy pushing)


Oh the joys of the G-Force


can you tell they're her favorite?



And when it's all said and done and we're headed back:

this happens.
(She calls it, "Daddy snuggle me.")



And this one has been like this for the whole time. hehe.

O how we LOVE the glorious outdoors!

Gratitude

To those who take the extra time

And go the extra mile

to be with her - right where she is.

Thank you.

It means the world.

My Bitty Biter

Proof of my bitty biter. (Click to look close)


Playing just wears you out.


Accomplishment in pulling to your knees.


But sometimes you get stuck and need someone to bail you out.



Oh my sweet little Abi! How I love you!

A Bit O' Earth

So going along with the Secret Garden theme, I've come to the dreaded duty of weeding the front planter boxes. To give you a bit of perspective, all along the front of our house are three large planter boxes. Now "the front" of our house is really the entire length of our house, the door is in the middle of our home, and some brilliant landscaper decided to plant a total of 13 or 14 bushes, all of which lie in beautiful planter boxes - and require pruning naturally. My planter boxes are 3-4 feet in width at some sections and the small bushes are planted in the middle of the boxes - allowing weeding on both the front and back sides of the bushes. While these bushes are a bit cute, when I forget about the weeding, this non-gardening Mama dislikes - a lot - the never-ending prickly weeds that flock to bush-country. Maybe I'm just such a good gardener that everything wants to grow in my dirt? (Coughs).

So this morning the girls took a nap at the same time - mark this day down in history - and I could put them both down in the morning because I don't have Lexi today (whom I pick up from school in the morning) due to this weekend's illness pandemic in our household. [We have a Dr. appointment for Rachael this afternoon.] And in the art of self-sacrifice, I decided to be my own Mistress Mary and try to find delight in weeding the last HUGE flower bed. So, no joke, it took me about 45 minutes to clear away a three feet long section out of the twelve or thirteen foot long flowerbed. I nearly filled an entire huge trash bag of weeds.

And all I have to say after my experience is:


Bad Eve... no apple!



- Seriously, I enjoyed the prayer time and quiet amid the work. Maybe a gardener is growing in me yet? And maybe this too shall pass. hehe. =)

"Mommy read book?"

"Mommy read book?" she pleas as the climbs in bed to snuggle up for a nap. When Rachael was 11 months old, we made the family choice for me to become a stay-at-home mom. Abi, whom we had yet to know to be Abi, was on the way and my heart overflowed with the prospect of being there fully to raise our kids. I rearranged the kitchen, did some serious housecleaning to kick off the week and began a new tradition, reading before nap time.

I remember my mom reading the Lord of the Ring's series to us before bed, my sister and I fighting to stay awake longer to hear "just one more chapter." We were elementary aged and past the "little kid book" age. But I found such a joy in the stories coming to life in our minds - no need for pictures, we were each writing our own movie as the text filled our imaginations.

I began the Anne of Green Gables series when Rachael was 11 months old. I still remember the joy of feeling her little body drift into sleep amid turning the pages and rocking. And it's so precious to me to think that ever since Abi could hear from the womb she has drifted to sleep amid a story. I remember feeling Abi get heavier inside me as she neared her ripeness toward the end of Rachael's lap-rocking days. When Abi joined us on this side of the womb, Rachael would fall asleep in her bed and I would rock Abi while sifting through the Chronicles of Narnia series and a Karen Kingsbury novel (yes, Matt finally convinced me). There's something beautiful about knowing your kids are falling asleep to the soothing pattern and rhythm of your voice. And here we are today, with the Secret Garden.

Today we met Colin for the first time and a flood of a high school musical emerged in my mind. I love how a good book captures you as the scene is painted in your mind. But the scene coming to my mind was literally painted on sliding set pieces. I remembered try-outs with my sister, one of the first things I remember coming together to accomplish (due to high school falling at such a "sisters are uncool" age). My sister, an ever-so-old Junior, and then there was me, a little scared Freshman. My sister had the part of Lily in the bag, literally just waiting for the formalities of try-outs. But the part of Colin was up for grabs among all my friends. Whoever got the role of Colin would be immediately excommunicated from the group as the rest would probably be listed amongst the long list of "chorus" (hehe). My sis jumped into action, practicing and practicing with me. I remember thinking, "WOW! She knows me outside of the house too?!" (love ya, Jes.)

And then the call-backs list and the final posting sealed it all. I had my first lead in a musical, playing my sister's son. There was much make-up, ace bandages to make the illusion of a boy's chest appear, and a wig that took nearly 2 hours to put on my head (tucking my long hair beneath). But something magical came from singing "Come to my Garden" with my sister. I will never forget the excitement rush of hearing her beautiful voice cut through the fog (fog machined in) and pierce through the silence of the room. It was a moment. A moment indeed. And then that bridge... "I shall see you in my garden..." those tight harmonies. It was so neat. The show took on a life of it's own.

The lady on the recording has NOTHING on my sister. You should see Daddy's recording. =) But I do remember practicing to this version with my sister as we prepared for try-outs. It was just lovely. Lovely indeed.


Some pieces of the experiences God has given me are hard to convey. Rachael and Abi may never know the feeling of standing, or in my case laying on a bed (I was a crippled boy), and knowing that an audience of some hundred(s) of people are watching and yet feeling like no one else is there, but whomever is on stage. I hope Rachael and Abi get the chance to lose themselves in a musical number (not as in become loose morally here people). Just so much fun. So shaping and altering.

Funny how God has used some small-town moments to build up this stage-fright child within me. hehe.


Anyway... back to house chores.

- looking forward to tomorrow's nap-time reading.

So Much Bigger and Closer

Sometimes a walk down memory lane is filled with beautiful, white-picket fenced pictures. Other times lessons learned come to mind. And sometimes there's those 'remember when's that create a solemn and quiet moment in your heart.

I recently set up my old college computer to provide a space of childhood computer game playing. Funny to introduce the kindergartner I watch to packman - as if packman is something historic of the past. When booting up the old junker, curiosity led me to the old picture files. Funny to laugh through silly worship band pictures. But one file brought back a whole world of thoughts. It's title? New Orleans Mission Trip 2006.

We come to crossroads in our life. The road to heroism and the road to normalcy. And sometimes the two interchange and weave amongst each other. But every once in a while on down the road there comes a hill. And after the hill's climb you begin to see more values: greater value in rest, greater value in good hiking shoes, greater value in water, and even a greater value in life. And then all at once the horizon hits you from the top of that hill.

New Orleans brought back that feeling. The old war-zone looking pictures of displaced houses, demolished neighborhoods, and the eerie quiet that filled the air. No birds. No crickets. Nothing.

Work abounded on the trip. Filled with gutting flooded houses, stripping down walls and bleaching studs. All in the efforts to rebuild. All in the efforts to start again. In most cases we didn't meet the neighbors - those that were coming back for the wreckage. We just did our work. Did our part. Tried to leave behind a foundation that someone else could value again.

The images. The feelings. The poor world feeling so much bigger and yet so much closer than before. It all came flooding back as I flipped through the pictures, my mind adding a few not captured on film.

inside

clean-up begins

tearing down walls

removing glass from windowsill

pressure washing/bleaching molded studs

searching for valuables

the final product - a gutted house

Sometimes a walk down memory lane is filled with beautiful, white-picket fenced pictures. Other times lessons learned come to mind. And sometimes there's those 'remember when's that create a solemn and quiet moment in your heart.


- my heart goes out to Japan right now -

To The Anonymous - - You Matter

If there's one thing I've learned about being a stay-at-home mom of little kids, it's that you need a lot of support. It's a blessing to have a friend to talk to when you just need an adult voice. There are times the last thing you want to do is wipe another boogie nose, but knowing girl's night out is around the corner helps you press on. There are times you just want to take a drive in the car, without having to listen to 20 questions from the back seat. And while stay-at-home moms can seem like anonymous people , operating on a completely different day-shift than the rest of the world's 9-5, you know that you matter to the Savior.

But I've found a new level of anonymity. You moms have probably experienced it. It's the circumstance where you visit a friend, neighbor, extended relative, or acquaintance and the only one that matters in the room is .... the baby on your hip.

Have you ever felt that?

You're not even acknowledged. The baby receives the engagement, the patting, maybe is even taken from your hip and not one word is said to you. It's like you don't even exist.

Most days it doesn't bother me. I kind of enjoy staying out of the floodlights. But deep down inside a small part of me wonders why if I matter so much then why not even a word was said to me.

I've had this happen twice to me this past weekend. not a word was said to me in the hour+ that I spent with this person. All the interaction was with my children and my husband. It's as if a world around me existed and I was merely there for functionality.

I'm not posting about this as a passive-aggressive way of getting back at that person. This has nothing to do with that kind of a shallow act. I just wanted to post about this feeling for all those moms out there that are put in similar situations. All those moms out there (whom most will never have heard of or ever read these words) who just want a friend to look them in the eyes and say, "you matter. Even if you have some undetectable sticky thing in your hair."

"You matter to me even if you are thinking about how you wish you had time for a shower this morning. Even if you're wondering if you'll ever lose the baby weight. Even if your thoughts are on desiring a moment of quiet time once the kids go to bed. Even if the last thing on your list is to uphold some intellectual conversation because you just want someone to be with you without requiring something from you. You matter. Because you are you."

And it's in those moments that I hope and pray you hear your Savior whisper those truths to your heart.


Dear anonymous Mom out there,

You Matter to Me.

- Jesus.



He is all-sustaining.

Nightmare?

Rachael was crying on the baby monitor and I went in to her. I asked her what was wrong. After a few minutes she said, "I was sleeping. Alligator get my hand and I say ouch. I wake up and I cryin'."

Sounds like the kid explained her nightmare quite well.

Quite the imagination.

Too bad it bit her. =)

I wanna be a part of it...

So there's a part of me that is a traveler at heart. You see those gorgeous landscapes and something inside says, "Beam me up Scotti!" And there's something attractive about the city. No it's not the pollution, crazy traffic, violence or foul language that stirs that little place in my heart (surprising?). It's the glamorized tourist inside me that says, "Maybe some day..."

O the fun of traveling about in a confused tourist bubble, hoping you don't stand out too bad. I guess in my traveler's heart I never really care to look like a native. I just want to see the tall buildings, taste the cut little Mom and Pop shop bagels, and take a picture of the monument nearby. Just enjoy the simple things in the world of reading signs and learning new stuff.

And while the gorgeous sandy beach with the crystal clear water sounds so amazing and looks exquisite in those panoramic shots the fact is that Matt and I burn quite easily so the sunblock expense alone is enough for us to look around for a nearby city. Hehe. Maybe I'm a city girl at heart? Eh, I'm not so sure. Don't think that the over-stressed pressure of being in a non-sleeping place is all that desirable - especially for this Mom who hopes to sleep through the night on a regular basis when, say, the kids move out to college. But walking about in a city during the day, riding the subway, checking out all the cute little shops as you walk by their front windows...

There's a little shopping center around the Dayton area called 'The Greene.' It's a high-end outdoor mall that's designed to look like 3 or 4 city blocks. The perfectly swept roads, charity-only parking meters, cute little store fronts, wind whipping around the building corners, and a little 'fountain square' type meeting point make this little shopping area a cute little city in itself. Maybe I'm in love with those Frank Sinatra-ish movie era cities. A Roman Holiday. Breakfast at Tiffany's.

But whatever it is a little part of me thinks of vacationing in a city and then returning to "the quiet life" in our little suburb home.

White picket fence? Having my cake and eating it too?

You better believe it.


Alrighty, back to the real world. =)

To homeschool or to don't (er somethin')

Been thinking and researching a bit about homeschooling. Yes, I'm one of those nuts who thinks about staying with her kids 24/7 at the expense of her inner sanity and outer beauty (is it just me or do kids seem to have an affect on your outer beauty?).

A few homeschooling pros:

1. You know what they're learning (important as public curriculum has taken some interesting shifts)
2. You have some control over what they're learning (unless they're learning your bad habits).
3. Child has the opportunity to see the parent as a life teacher and not just a lame-o.
4. Cuts down on inappropriate (yet semi-functional for crowd control alone) bullying, teasing and competition. ("I'm bigger than you are, dork sister, cuz you're only a mere kindergartner!")

And a few cons:

1. You can't get away from your kids (Is that a problem? - rips out half a head of hair)
2. You are the teacher (please, no spitballs) so if you don't prepare - no one else is your backup.
3. Your weak subject is your kid's weak subject (Oh Matthew, the Math you would be teaching to our kids).
4. Social functioning needs to be higher than the "weird kids" out there. (Unless your kids are the weird ones. Then it needs to just be higher. -- being silly here.)
5. The constant fear of "is this enough so they'll be considered passing?"

Now don't you worry yourself. Just because I listed more cons than pros doesn't mean there are more cons than pros... I hope (wink).

Just word-vomiting about homeschooling thoughts.


[the giant hook comes out and rips her from the stage.]


Your thoughts?

Paradise

Returned from our two day rendez-vous in Louisville to the normal. Funny how much I've found enjoyment in the normalcy. The hotel stay was great; Matt at the Youth Advisory Board meeting on Tuesday from 8a-4p with a few breaks and the girls and I with no schedule, hanging out in the hotel room, going for a walk in the beautiful weather and enjoy the Seminary campus recreation center. Tuesday night, after the meeting ended, Matt and I enjoyed a little dinner and swimming with the girls - AKA sitting in one foot of baby pool water while Rachael ran in circles and Abi splashed. We looked foolish, but it was so much fun just to laugh and play childish games and be in the moment with our kids. No pride. Wednesday, we took the girls park-hoping to a few really fun parks with great slides, swings, ride-on bouncers, and a merry-go-round. Parks plus a wonderful walk alongside the Louisville riverfront and with full lunch bellies we spent the girls' naptime traveling back home.

Once stepping into the house it was funny how the normal hit us: dog barking, cat zipping about, laundry piles, toy explosions, dishes overload, etc.

And I just had to laugh this morning; 6:55am wake-up call - both Rachael and Abi in sync, nursing the baby while cuddling a not-quite-awake toddler, discovery of no toilet paper, 7am phone call with Goga (my mom) in which Rachael got it into her head that we were going to eat cinnamon rolls, improved cinnamon rolls from crescent rolls while rescuing my hair-tie from the cat, attacking Daddy at 8am as his sleeping in comes to a screeching halt (I couldn't help it!), playing in Mommy and Daddy's bed with Rachael's additions: thrown about foam puzzle pieces and a play cordless phone - on which Matt talked to 'Aunt Jes' about her making him snicker doodle cookies. hehe., Matt jolting out of bed and running for the oven at the realization that the kitchen timer had been going off for a while, sawing cinnamon rolls off the ungreased cookie sheet (promise I followed the ungreased directions) while rescuing another hair-tie and handing the baby salad tongs to pacify, joking and tickling with Matt, serving the toddler while Pounce lives up to his name in stalking and attacking my pajama pant legs. Listening to Rachael's rendition of "Jesus Loves Dakota" sung to our dog with an interlude of pleading for more applesauce, while feeding the baby oatmeal-apples-green beans - buttering, jellying and eating my breakfast between baby spoonfuls. Matt emerging from showering bliss in just enough time to grab breakfast, wash toddler hands, put in her requested Praise Baby movie, and grab a kiss on the way to the office. And as I sit here typing these words with two fingers the above song goes through my head, baby asleep in my arms - just realized the missed dried baby food on her nose, with cat attempting to find space on my lap - sitting on the baby- while in a purry mood. I'm telling you, people, there's no place I'd rather be.. oooo just another day in paradise.

-loving my circus! =)

Autonomy Vs. Rebellion

"I do it myself!" We've all heard our toddler say something along these lines, or maybe it was just some toddler in the grocery store. That breech and stretch of freedom mixed with a mild dose of attitude. And while it's easy to laugh it off as the toddler's obviously poor coordination overtakes them amidst their stubborn nature, their words hit like a spreading epidemic in our culture.

Have you noticed the commercials? Have you noticed the expectation shift?

Kids are portrayed more and more in sitcoms, comedies, kid's shows, and commercials as rebellious individuals. And we laugh at the irony and somehow have trained ourselves to find the humor in the rebellion. I think it started somewhere as a "help me" laugh. You know, one of those laughs that is almost a plea asking the fellow participant to intervene. One of those partially embarrassed laughs.

I'm finding, through the joy of raising a toddler, that many kids are getting stuck in their toddler stage. Every kid has a wonderfully selfish side - welcome to the Fall-out, right? But there is a difference between autonomy and rebellion. Our culture has seemed to laugh where the lines have gotten muffled.

It's like that familiar saying, "things just aren't like they used to be." While progress is a good thing, slowly spiraling out of control is (clears throat) less desirable.

The kids shows now highlight and exemplify the role model as the one who has the sarcastic come-backs. Glamorizing the ability to cut someone else down with your words and rebel. So what's the result? Those pre-teen attitudes get themselves trapped in admiring first-grade bodies.

Calm Expectations

I have heard recently that my children are mellow. And I would like to explore the concept of a mellow child.

Many can attribute mellow to a child's genetic disposition. Or is mellow an environmental creation? Or is mellow a sign of a child's understanding of predictability - for if a child understands what is expected of them and what will come next then where is the nervous anxiety or concern?

I think my kids have a bit of all of these. Though I must note that my kids have their rambunctious moments too. But I am blessed to have learned early the value of being strict with your kids. Being strict does not mean lacking love, just being clear in expectation. This is hard to describe to a by-stander. It's hard to explain to them that your child cannot have the juice because you already told her 'no' and giving in to her crying, no matter how pathetic or no matter how much your heart breaks and thinks about 'just this time', teaching consistency is a far greater skill. No, people, being a Nazi about life is not the answer either. Don't think that my kids won't ever get ice cream or enjoy the freedom of yelling at the top of their lungs during play. But yelling at the top of their lungs in the car is not going to cut it, Boundaries create predictability. Predictability creates stability. Stability creates a calm child.

I guess when it boils down to it I just don't want to live in a constant state of chaos. I don't want to live in chasing down a toddler because running through the parking lot is an option. Introverted me would explode without some quiet around the house - and quiet is a loose definition with 2 of your own kids and 1 you watch throughout the week.

I am blessed by a toddler that enjoys quiet play as well as noisy play. Our mornings here are pretty quiet, with Abi napping, and Rachael usually looking at books, silently pulling a pull-toy in the hallway, and spending some Mommy-time laughing at the jack-in-the-box's flailing arms when you try to stuff him in. Rachael knows what to expect - each morning she's asked to play quietly if she wants to be in the room while I put Abi to sleep, and she prefers to be with us. Then Rachael knows that Abi sleeping means that she needs to be quiet in the hallway, but can feel free to be loud and play in the living room or the playroom or the fireside room. But Rachael has learned the difference between playing loudly and playing recklessly. And I am sincerely thankful to God that my efforts to help Rachael with her self-control, by creating boundaries, have created a very well-mannered (though she odes have her moments) and responsive child. She's still a toddler, people, and no I'm not the baby whisperer (that's my father-in-law), but predictability and clear expectation go for MILES.

Abi, on the other hand, is a more entertainment driven child. Her nature is to desire you to entertain her, or a toy that has movement and entertainment over a quiet toy. Knowing this about her character, though, does not mean she is constantly entertained. She, too, is expected to provide her own entertainment while playing on the floor beside my laundry folding, etc. And while she is more fussy about it at times, she has come into the same ability to self-entertain with understanding of the expectation. Now seriously, people, she's only 8 months old, I'm not asking her to self-entertain for 40 minutes, but age-appropriately I am asking her to self-entertain. And once she understands the expectation (though sometimes Abi is much more stubborn than my Rachael), she too finds enjoyment in the clear boundaries.


I love them for their differences, but the expectation has not changed. How I teach them the expectation is unique to the child, but I try hard to be as consistent with my expectation and keep my end-goal desire in mind. It's not about control. It's about wanting to enjoy the ride of life. It's about wanting to make a home that is welcoming and comfortable for all. It's about wanting to raise my kiddos to enjoy life and get the most from the moment while still learning the values of respect, and honor because of Jesus wanting us to respect and honor each other.


Please hear my heart here... I'm not bragging. God has RICHLY blessed me in the obedience and the approach to teaching self-control and obedience to my kids. And I have a LONG way to go in upbringing kiddos to honor Christ. God is constantly reshaping me and remolding me to honor Him more and more with my family. To God be all the glory for the successes of my little family. I just want to come to Him holding out my family and be able to say, "I tried hard to run after You with these kids. My offering is so insufficient but I give it to You."



What are some ways you give your family to Jesus, no matter how big or small your family?

The Power of 'No'

The predictable utterance of any toddler. The half-hearted response written across any teenager's face at their parent's exciting vacation plans. The programmed response of any adolescent when offered an "uncool" option. Yes, friends. I'm talking about the word, "NO."

Such a small word with great power.

I've found that this word may not produce immediate smiles or high fives, but sometimes it's the best response of honesty available.


God's been teaching me a lot lately. As I type that sentence I wonder at the marvel that He would still teach me and take time to walk this road with me even as I stumble along in my toddling for truth moments.

"Where is your ministry?" is often thrown around in the Christian church.
"My ministry."
"I just can't find a place to serve."

Pastor's wives (and church staff wives), I have found, are either expected to run everything - the church MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group, Jr. High girl's bible study, vacation bible school kindergarten 2 class, and raise 5 babies - 2 from Africa- while keeping the house cleaned and dinner on the table at 5pm. Or there's the "does our Pastor have a wife?" staff wife that lives in her house and tries to keep from attending prayer meeting in her bathrobe.

Sure there are those staff wives that are able to find the beauty in balancing their crazy kids (who's kids aren't crazy), bake brownies for the next church social, and stick to only teaching their 3rd grade Sunday School class. But while we all aspire to be them we have our wonderful moments of feeling the fluctuating from the overbooked to the hermit.

And while my brain and heart digests the unspoken, yet felt, expectations or, for a kinder word, "desires" of a church Body on the Pastor's wife/staff wife I find God walking in with a whole new life motto.

"Just say 'no'."

What God? Come again?


At some stages of life God is revealing to me that He just wants me here; folding the laundry while singing praises, picking up the talking hamster pet toy for the umpteenth time, changing one more diaper, and serving my husband where I am.

You know, maybe I create too much pressure on myself. Or maybe I am just trying to serve where I have in the past. But I am learning that sometimes the best thing I can do and the best glorifier of Jesus that I can be is the wife that: makes Godly goals with her family, gets up with the baby and rocks that new tooth out of hiding, prays for her husband and listens to his heart, tries to come up with new ways to surprise her husband with an 'I love you' note, joins in toddler dances with flailing arms and no reservation to 'old school' Sunday School songs, and prays 'thank yous' to Jesus for His marvelous works while scraping food off the dishes.

Matt has a lot on his shoulders and He needs to unload on His Savior. But am I ushering Him into the presence of God? Or am I heaping more onto the load because I failed to say 'no'?

Someone will always ask me to do more. And I hope they never stop asking because it gives me opportunities to run to Jesus and say, "What about now? Did You want me to do this?" But there's no shame in saying, "I agree. That ministry direction sounds great and is just what our church needs. I'll pray for more workers alongside you and let you know if God is calling me to add more than prayer."


He's given me so much to be thankful for. And while I'm not to be self-serving and not to seek out the easiest road. I am reminded again and again that I will be standing at the throne of God in judgment (not Heaven or Hell. That question is sealed already.) . And though I will always have "I wish I would have done better" on my lips (if I can even talk), I want to say that I tried hard to serve and serve with my family. I want to say, I received your ministry in my life and ran hard.

So today I woke up stretching (and yawning) as my ministry awoke me over the baby monitor. My ministry filled the kitchen sink and sat by the washer. My ministry woke up for another dry morning and toddled to her little potty. And I kissed my ministry as he headed out the door for the office. And now I'm about to go clean out my ministry's dirty littler box and then rescue my ministry from her torturous napping crib. Tomorrow, if the weather's nice, my ministry could be sitting on the park bench watching her kids play too or standing on the side of the road asking for a hand-out.


Thank you, Lord, for the ministry you have given me.

Please continue to help me grow and mature more in serving my ministry as you expand and develop it.

I'm reminded of the praise Chorus:

Where you lead me, Lord, I will follow...
Where you lead me, Lord, I will go...


-to God be the glory.

Unpredictable

If there's one thing I've learned it's that life with a 2 year old and an 8 month old can be pretty unpredictable. Let me show you what I mean:

When she decided to pick her own seat at the snack table, I didn't really know what I agreed to. =)

Sometimes smiles are inevitable.


A balloon can quickly become a best friend.

You never really know what she'll show off from the dress up box.


She always looks like Daddy.
But in some moments she REALLY looks like Daddy. ;)



But no matter what may come, I'll still be addicted to


that laughing smile



and those baby blues.