Posture

So apparently I have a tendency to go weeks, nay, months without updating this blog. I'm sorry. That must be terribly frustrating to those of you that like to have a semi-regular glimpse into our lives. What is even more frustrating is that sometimes I go through seasons when I like to update daily, and other seasons, there is only silence...

I am realizing that is how my brain works, too. There are times when everything is cheery and the details of my days are tangible. It takes no effort to record daily happenings and funny little quips. But then inevitably, I dip into waters that are deeper, more complex, and my mind goes black for some time as I seek to process what I am thinking, what I hear God saying to me, and where I am being led. And then somehow I get out of the habit of communicating daily events and don't know how to enter back in.

So let's just start, awkwardly. Shall we?

For some time now I have felt gentle nudges to simplify, simplify, simplify. I don't think it's an uncommon message. We live in this culture that is so absolutely oppressive. Stuff EVERYWHERE. Things to do. Places to be. MONEY TO SPEND. It's so burdensome, isn't it? We watch TV shows about hoarders, feel guilt, and purge, frantically. We spend hard-earned dollars on storage solutions, organizational books, and systems. We neglect our kids to read websites and blogs about ways other people are doing "it" (whatever "it" is: organizing, parenting, creating, living), and bite our nails with anxiety that we don't know where to start. It appears that everyone else has it all together and we are the only ones that are lost.

Is anyone else feeling this? Is it only me? Maybe I should have said "I" instead of "we"...

Okay, then. Here is my confession. I did those things, I did. I spent hours trying to figure out better systems to do my daily tasks. I pushed my own children aside while sitting in front of the computer trying to figure out how to be a better parent. And then it struck me how absolutely silly it all was!

Simplify. Simplify. Simplify. But how, Lord? What does that mean? How do I know what it looks like? Where do I begin?

For one, we have determined after nearly 10 years of marriage that, for us, it doesn't mean birth control. The concept that a "smaller family equals a better life" has become a lie to me, because I know my own greediness and how quickly it would take over. Money for vacations? Done. Money for sports lessons? We're there. Money for nicer cars and lots more stuff? Yes, yes, and yes...

But an ever-growing family that ties me to home feels calmer and more secure. I know it doesn't make sense. Here is the best example I can give:

When Cole was a toddler, he was manic. He had problems processing sugars (that we hadn't discovered yet) and in addition to his food issues, he was a typical active little boy. He ran non-stop, always in a straight line, always away from me. Never looked back. I was exhausted for years, parenting just that child, but what I found as he grew is that he exhausted himself, too. He didn't always like being manic and active. Before he could even speak, he developed his own little sign for "go car" and when it all got to be too much for him, he would ask me to take him for a drive. I was always so amazed at how much calmer he would become the instant he was strapped into his 5-point harness. This look of pure relief would come over his face as if he knew it was going to be better now, for a time, because he didn't have to run and be crazy and control his body. He could just rest within the restriction. Now, looking back, I realize that I feel the same way. This world has too many things that lure me in and distract me. The (few) times that I have had plenty, I find myself immediately swayed by options. I'm too weak against them, and it's too easy to whip out my check card. There are too many bright lights and colors. It feels manic. I find my heart whispering, "five-point harness, Lord"...

The main thing that I feel God telling me these days is to adopt a posture of humility; now I am in the throes of trying to figure out what that looks like. I know it will be a process. But I can tell you that living a life with just enough manna for today feels peaceful and safe. Listening to my children and petitioning God for answers when I am up against a wall is calmer than doping out in front of the computer, looking for solutions in an endless sea of information. I don't think I want to give up this blog, and actually there are several things currently that I'd like to share with you...but I have to warn you that I might disappear from time to time when all this technology gets too much for me.

I guess those are all the things I have floating around in my head tonight. If anyone is still out there, come on back soon and we'll head for lighter topics for a while...

April

On month four now of thrice-weekly visits to the chiropractor. Little time for anything else...well, other than cooking, potty-training, and washing dishes. We are plugging away at our schoolwork; dissected owl pellets on the dining table last night with the older three after Sean went to bed. Switched math curriculum (from Horizon to Singapore) and Cole is saying (so far) that he likes it much better. Having fun learning Latin verbs, and making up our own (English) madlibs in our spare time to cement the ideas of nouns and verbs. Taking walks to clear Mama's head. Washing machine has been broken for two weeks now, I've spent nearly $100 at the laundromat and there is dirty laundry EVERYWHERE. Packed 5 boys and as much dirty laundry as I could fit around them into the Volvo this morning, drove the minute and a half to the laundromat and discovered that they are closed on Thursdays. Which wouldn't be quite so sad of a story if I hadn't done the EXACT SAME THING LAST WEEK. It's possible that there is a neural connection missing in my head. Hmm. Not willing to switch laundromats because mine uses cards, I've already started one and I don't need more than one laundry card floating around my kitchen. We made an outing out of it anyway and spent a bunch of time wandering around the grocery store; picked up a few things for dinner but forgot the salad dressing. Have just enough balsamic vinegar in the bottle to mix some up.

Weather is nicer and boys are dying to be outside. The only complication is that outside = dirty clothes and I'm not sure there are any clean ones left. Appliance repairman just called and said my machine is completely shot...apparently a nail pierced a hole in the washtub...is that any surprise?

My favorite romantical quote from my spouse this week:

"Baby, one day this merry-go-round will stop. We'll puke, and then we'll get back to our lives."

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While packing @! loads of dirty laundry back into the kitchen this morning, along with three bags of groceries:
Mama: "Boys, this is the loading zone. Please, unless you are helping unload, please move out of the way so the rest of us can get through. REUBEN. Scootch out of the way PLEASE."
Reuben: "BUT I WANNA GET LOADED!"

Highlight

Call me crazy, but sometimes the highlight of my day is simmering a pot of something on the stove and watching condensation build on the windowpane of the kitchen door...keeping one ear out for the sound of a sneaky little boy climbing the stairs up from the basement to stealthily write "Poo" in the steam. And then hearing his indignation later when he brings a brother up to witness his crime and finds that Mama has changed his creation to "Boo"...

Buttermilk Blueberry Bliss

Happier words are never heard in this house than:

"Mama: I'm FULL!"

Missing

Okay, so, back in the day, when we only had one (surprise) baby, we used to actually sit around and talk about how many kids we might have. Granted, the conversations were never very long--I think we always had a sense that we would be more than just three. The "family planning" conversations always ended up at the same inevitable conclusion: Let's Wait And See. I remember countless times sitting around the dinner table with Baby Cole in his highchair, telling Justin: "I know it's so busy, but I feel like someone is missing..."

Same thing when Reese came along. We were over-the-moon blessed to have two healthy boys! ...but when I would set the plates on the table at night I often found myself grabbing too many out of the cupboard. We would sit around the table and dine, and though it should have maybe felt complete (I come from a family of four), I still felt a sense of loss for one that was missing. And by then Justin was feeling it too.

So over the years, this has been a common thread for us. With each crazy, loud addition, we still look at each other over our soup bowls and nod that yes, one is missing. But it has become more than that to me--more than trying to control what the size of this family might eventually be. It has evolved instead into a willingness to be open to what God is asking me to do within these four walls. Maybe (certainly) that will mean a baby for us this year. Maybe it will mean opening up a room (or a basement) to a family member or friend that needs a place to stay for awhile. Maybe it means foster care at some point in our lives. I'm not sure--but I do know that He is asking me to let go of my desire to define what "family" means and what its limitations are. He can do so much more than I can even imagine. I have stopped wanting to place roadblocks in the way of the plans He has for me.

I am trying to teach my boys that love is to be shared, and that children are a blessing. I tell them daily that they are gifts that God has given me. It's so important to me that they know that. So I get a little weepy when we sit down at Costco to eat our hot dogs for lunch, and see two children sitting a few tables away (whose mother is surely getting their napkins and straws), and hear Cole say, "Do you think those kids would like to come live with us?" Because in that moment, I think, he gets it. He knows that family boundaries are meant to be fluid, that beds can be pushed against walls to make room for another, that another chair can always be pulled up to the table. That another handful of beans can be added to the pot.

And this week, even though I have been very, very careful to never talk about feeling a "hole" in our family in front of my children, Cole sat down to the dinner table on two separate occasions, and immediately said: "Doesn't it feel like someone is missing?"

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Meet the newest member of our family! I think he looks like Sean, but maybe that's because Sean still looks so much like a baby. Oh, and I use the term "he" loosely; no, we didn't find out; you'll have to wait just a little bit longer! Baby will be making an appearance the beginning of September. Ish.

Baby, Daddy, Fat, Old

Our breakfast conversation this morning:

Reese: "So Mom, does it go: 'Baby, Daddy, Fat, Old'?"

Mama: "Excuse me?"

Reese: "Does it go 'Baby, Daddy, Fat, Old'?" (I love how they always repeat it verbatim...as though there is a CHANCE I might have the slightest idea what they're referencing)

Mama: "I'm sorry, Baby, I don't know what you're asking."

Cole (desperate to help): "You know, Mom, like living? Like the way we live? We start out as babies....then turn into kids....then daddies" (DOT DOT DOT)

Reese: "Then it goes to that other stuff...right?"

Now how would you have answered this question?

This Morning

Justin has been on a trip for three days....I thought I was doing well this morning by getting up an hour early...in a quiet house...and making coffeecake for the boys as a breakfast surprise...

But I accidentally let a chicken out of the gate and had to chase it around the yard, dropped an egg when I was taking care of the neighbor's animals, gave the rest of the eggs to Cole and watched him drop one right outside the back door, refilled the water jug and got it all the way next door before realizing it wasn't screwed on properly (it fell apart and dumped water all over the ground), thought to check the mail for the first time since Justin left, hoping for a paycheck (our first check since mid-November) and was instead surprised with a huge STACK of overdraft notices from the bank since I accidentally put the money into savings instead of checking, opened a notice from the gas company threatening to turn off my heat on Monday because I forgot to send the check... and I'm utterly unable to do anything about it today since the CU is closed and I'm locked from doing any more transfers online. And then while I was fuming about the bills, Reuben stomped on my bare foot wearing his winter boots and I yelled at the top of lungs, which caused him to BURST INTO TEARS. And then I burst into tears and then we sat on the couch together and CRIED.

So I'll check the mail again a bit later. But I'm pretty sure that the Mom Of The Year award will NOT be showing up in my box today.

One Month

In one month, I have
mourned the loss of my fifth pregnancy
cried over the deaths of two co-workers
listened to my husband explain to me why he lost his job



I have also
purchased new clothes for growing, healthy boys
bought groceries and gasoline with cash
worn tank tops because my house is nice and warm
eaten hot meals lovingly prepared by family and friends
given to others out of my excess



In the next month, I will
celebrate the birthday of my three year old son
sit round a table with 17 others in thankfulness
help a sweet one year old blow out a candle


"the Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
may the name of the Lord be praised"! (job 1:21b)

And Then There Were THREE

It's true: Our chicken house is becoming quite the lonely place to be. Lost another one this week, and though we're thankful to not be mentally muddling through a raccoon "robbery", we are dealing with the fact that we have absolutely no idea what killed her. Yesterday afternoon, while Justin was here on lunch, the boys were looking out the window and noticed there was a chicken that had flown over the fence. Justin went out to put her away (thankfully telling the boys to stay inside) and as he ushered her into the yard, he spied a limp little body out by the back wall. No blood, no bites, not a scratch on her.

So....c'est la vie. Or not, as the case may be. The boys weren't any more upset this time than the last, though this time they did come out and get a bit of a lesson about what a dead chicken looks like. I'm feeling sad that our egg ration is depleting. (We didn't eat any of the eggs from the nests yesterday, not knowing if they were safe.) Farmer Justin is feeling sad that he lost yet another member of his flock.

What Mama Is Learning

1) First-Day-Of-School-Hot-Cocoa is a contradiction in terms.

2) My homeschool needs a recess teacher.

3) Homeschools have bullies too, sometimes.

4) The first week of school brings anxiety, excitement, tears, and the need for extra sleep...whether the boys leave the house for school or not.

5) Sometimes the most frightening moment of parenting comes when you discover your toothbrush is in a different place than where you left it. (I know, it's not school related, but it's true, yes?)

O Happy Day!

...to free myself of the tangle of little boys that have found their way to my bed in the middle of the night, and stumble out into bright daylight at 7am to release the chickens from their coop, and turn around blurry-eyed to see my husband standing in the yard, smiling, with two steaming cups of Starbucks coffee! I'm not sure life could have been much more blissful in that moment.

How I love a good early-morning surprise.

We are all so thankful to have Justin back home, where he belongs. I'm still feeling perplexed that the things I manage just fine during the week are the same things that I am completely incompetent with on the weekends. Dishes, meal planning, picking up, washing clothes...the list goes on. But we made it and we're here--fatigued, yes, but happy and healthy, and finally all together again.

First Egg!

in case we weren't on enough of an emotional rollercoaster Sunday after discovering our lost chicken, the next day swung us in the opposite direction...with the buzz of finding THE FIRST EGG!

(sort of appears we had high expectations on our first day of egg collecting, with that big basket, doesn't it?)

And Then There Were Four

The raccoons took one of our chickens last night.



We spent the holiday weekend with Colleen and Ron, and were stumped when it came to deciding what to do with the chickens. We've never left them overnight before. They roost every night in their little henhouse, and Justin goes out sometime after dark and locks their door so that no predators get in, and he lets them out first thing in the morning. So---what to do, if we're not here? We weren't sure. We decided to leave extra food and water and hope that they stayed safe during our absence.



Off we went to enjoy the 4th of July and our extended family. Ron and Colleen took us to the parade, fed us extravagantly and loved on us for two whole days. We arrived back home yesterday afternoon and were relieved to see all five ladies milling about the yard, happy as can be. Wow, thought we, they did just fine. Guess they don't need to be locked up after all....



And then came this morning. We lay in bed and talked about how nice it was to not have to race outside first thing and let them out. We gloated about how happy they must be to not have to wait on us but to be able to wander outside any old time after the sun was up to go on the hunt for bugs. We felt so proud to have such strong hens that could defend themselves against the roaming neighborhood cats and coons.



Justin was in the shower when I realized I needed something from the car, something I forgot to bring in yesterday. I walked out past the coop barefoot, still in my jammies, and stared dumbly for several minutes at the scattered pile of feathers next to the Volvo. I couldn't figure out how the boys could have gathered so many feathers, and why they would have left them next to the car. I kept trying to remember what we had done yesterday evening and when it was that they played outside (they didn't). By the time I finally glanced over at the coop and saw another pile of feathers, outside the fence, my head was just starting to comprehend what I was seeing. I ran over to the fence, ducking to catch a glimpse under their building, calling them, scanning the yard. Four chickens came to greet me.



Back out to the car, where I finally saw a trail of flurried feathers leading through the parking area and out into--and all around--the front yard. Every six feet or so was another pile of feathers. My heart sank. I ran inside and yelled for Justin, and we went back into the yard.



What a way to wake up, right? And how could we not have heard anything through our open window? The trail led into the bushes, out to the street, and stopped at a neighbor's tree. By then we were finding evidence that our chicken wasn't so much what you might call "alive". We stepped back and shielded our eyes and searched the treetops for any kind of visible den, but those trees are so tall, and raccoons are so good at hiding. We couldn't see a thing.



It's a bit melancholy around our house today. It seems silly to be mourning the loss of an animal that we planned on eventually killing ourselves anyway. But we weren't ready, and it feels, rightly, like a life has been stolen. And there are still lessons in little moments like these. As we came back in and tried to compose what was left of our morning, and distract ourselves with making breakfast, the Lord brought to mind the parable of the shepherd, who will leave his flock of 99 to find just one that is missing. I feel a twinge of understanding, searching for the one that was lost. And I'm thinking: How much more, then, does Christ care for us, and long for our restoration?

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Here are some photos from our weekend.

Doesn't Reubsy look handsome in his momma's glasses?

waiting for the parade:

justin and doug and (a few of) the boys:

lollys with gramma:

reuben, sam and sophie:

sparklers!

Four Pizza Night

Yesterday, bored with meal plans, I asked the kids to each come up with a dinner idea to put on the list. Reuben chose "rice". Reese chose "pizza with pineapple on the side". Cole chose "Nothing-Since-I-Wanted-To-Pick-Pizza-But-Reese-Already-Picked-It-And-You-Won't-Let-Us-Have-Pizza-Twice-In-One-Week"! Oh well. Two outta three's not bad.

Since the fridge was pretty empty and pizza toppings can be purchased at the last minute, I got busy making the dough so it could get to rising. My dough recipe makes two pizzas. Realizing I had an excess of flour, yeast, etc I decided to make two batches, so that we could have some dough in the freezer for a quick weekend lunch in the future. A couple of hours later, as I was rolling out the dough, Justin made a quick trip to the store for toppings and beer, and in no time, we were tossing pizzas into the oven....

Okay. Do you know how many pizzas we went through last night? Four. All four. Well, three and a half. Which still leaves no dough for the freezer. And which also means that at the ages of 6, 4 and 2, my boys can already put away close to 3 pizzas between the three of them....

I was laughing as I was putting the fourth pie into the oven and the boys were all still sitting at the table waiting for more--thinking of what life will be like a few years down the road--when they are all FOUR at the table--and bringing home their friends, to boot! Good thing this mama likes to cook!

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In other news: today we six hopped the bus that stops right out in front of our house, rode downtown to wander the Farmer's Market, filled our bags with local veggies, a new long-sleeved tee for Mama, and cookies from Mount Bakery, and then stopped into Pita Pit for a special lunch before riding the bus back home. All in all, a bang-up day!

Quote of the Day:

"This is the first time my Golden Tooth has ever eaten pizza!" --Cole, age 6

Catching Up

I've been MIA on my own blog lately. Justin has been mainly working from home the last two weeks--which is great, but it means I am behind on all things computer. I've peeked here and there at my favorite blogs, but have yet to really answer any emails....


Here's what's new around our camp.


THE CEO'S
Justin's trying out some of his newfound Project Management knowledge on me and the boys. He and I have started meeting weekly....without the kids....he is in charge of providing the coffee or snacks....ensuring I will actually show up at the meeting, ha! We sit for an hour or two with all of our lists and discuss all of the nooks and crannies of Family Life. Kids stuff, the family calendar, financial goals, weekly menus, home improvements. Etcetera. So far, so good; I'm finding it's helpful to have one assigned weekly appointment to dump out all of the random facts, ideas and problems I have accumulating inside my head. It takes a lot of the emotion out of it when you can come to a meeting and talk about missed expectations and miscommunications instead of letting it build up and eventually explode. Plus, we're both noticing that a lot more is getting done around the house--since it's clear who is responsible for what, and what the timelines are. Hurrah for that!




THE BROOD
The boys are good--loving the (warmer) weather. Reuben's favorite thing is to hop out of bed in the morning, jump into his boots (over his jammies), run out into the backyard and wake up while saying Good Morning to the chickens. Cole knows that he earns a quarter for letting the chickens out in the morning--but he also knows that Justin leaves quite early and will do it on his way out to the truck--so he's in a constant race against the clock to be the first one up and outside. It's a tiny bit insane. Even on the weekend, we often wake up to the backdoor slamming right around 6am! Which is, of course always followed by the standard 6-year-old-at-the-side-of-our-bed routine, stage-whispering, "When are we going to have breakfast?!" and "I'm bored!"

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I'm thinking about making some changes to our school schedule--again. It seems things are always changing--but I keep reminding myself that this is why we chose to homeschool--so that we could continually tailor the program to each child's needs. Reese wakes up slowly but is at his prime at about 8pm (bedtime). Cole starts the day strong and slowly wears down until he falls into bed exhausted at night. I've been having them do their schoolwork together mid-morning, but it's not ideal. Cole is too easily distracted and Reese plays Class Clown. So, for now, it's working better to have one-on-one time with Cole while Reese and Reuben nap, since he can zip right through his work when there are no distractions. And Reese is thriving on the special "Mom and Dad time" after his big brother is in bed for the night, and is so proud when he reads a word or solves a math problem that it seems as though he might burst right out of his skin. They're able to both forge ahead at their own speeds without worry of where their sibling is at--and yet still come together a few times a week for science projects or art lessons.

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Sean is getting bigger and stronger and all the brothers pitch in and help him whenever a toy or binks is out of reach. He's developed rashy little red cheeks and it seems to be a food allergy, which isn't surprising since all the other boys and I are sensitive to dairy. So for now, I'm trying my darndest to avoid dairy and wheat, which means that I'm starving (read: grouchy) ALL THE TIME. The good news is that my scale is finally starting to budge again with this strict diet....if I can just manage to stick to it....

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Wednesday we entered into Kids Dental Work for the first time. Back in March Cole's dentist discovered a cavity in one of his back molars sort of underneath the tooth. Making arrangements to get it filled took a bit of running around. I wanted to do some research on mercury/silver fillings, and we also took Cole to the hospital to have an echo done to check the status of the VSD (hole in his heart) that he was diagnosed with at 11 days old. The cardiologist from Children's Hospital that did our consult (via live video) confirmed that the hole has indeed closed, so we no longer have to have any concern about random infection finding its way into his bloodstream and lodging in his heart. After all of this, we finally had the tooth filled Wednesday...which of course turned into a bigger deal, as the cavity was so low it was in the root and the dentist decided to do a root canal and put a crown on the molar, ensuring it will stay strong enough to last the next 6-odd years he'll need it before a permanent one comes in. Cole, despite all of his apprehension, was a CHAMP, and is so proud of his "silver pirate tooth." Everyone? All together, in your best pirate voice? "ARRRRRR!"

IN OTHER NEWS

Our landlord, Nancy, decided to put in a fence this year and graciously offered to put one in for us, too. Justin's been out the last couple of days working on it. He still has a ways to go, but it's great to think that the boys can have more freedom outside this summer. None of the three ever go near the street, but there are SO MANY people that use our sidewalks because of the close proximity to the elementary school and technical college that we feel better about having them playing in a semi-enclosed space.

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And the final news....we took advantage of the electronics stores' Memorial Day sales this week and bought a new camera! I'm thrilled and overwhelmed all at once. There are things I could do on my 35mm Canon that I haven't figured out how to do on this one....and then, of course, there are SO MANY things that this one does that my other one couldn't. It will be a bit of a learning process, I suppose. I'm trying to take some time each day and play around with it. I got a handful of decent shots the other day, and went to upload them, and the SOFTWARE doesn't work (remember the demon computer virus we had a while back?). Ugh. We do have a friend in IT who might be able to find the glitch and repair it, so we'll see. For now, no new photographs. Stay tuned!

Just For Fun

92 words

Speed test

Anyone else find that Thursday is the longest day of their week?

Here's something to kill a whopping One Minute of your time today.

Justin said recently that listening to me type is a soothing sound to him--like rain on the rooftop. I still think of him saying this and it makes me smile.

A Shower Tribute

A few weeks ago, I was asked to write a tribute about motherhood to share at Karissa's baby shower. I was so honored to bless my dear friend this way! Here are some thoughts that I compiled....

First, a little background:

I met Karissa back in her wild days, when she was over-the-top about everything and I knew nothing beyond my little sheltered conservative boundaries. I think we were twelve. I was instantly thrilled by her manic spirit and her ability to capture the attention of everyone in the room--not to mention a few in the adjoining room, too. I absolutely wanted to be her friend. She was less than enthralled with my goody-two-shoes personality.

But as time went on, we did become friends. We became the kind of friends that passed dozens of notes between classes and fought over boyfriends. We invested time in each other. So much time; years of time. But as close as we got, we never lost our individuality. We never became carbon copies of each other, and so, even though we disagreed at times, we always had our own qualities to bring to the relationship. I think that is one of the reasons our friendship has lasted these 17+ years.

I say all of this because, when I think about my journey through motherhood, it is impossible to separate that journey from the friends that have traveled the road with me. Raising a child really does require that virtual village. (I haven't yet determined what raising FOUR children requires!) I have found that there are a few close friends that I do rely on during the course of this journey. God provides my purpose, my daily strength, and that still small voice that guides my decisions--should I let my kids go to that friend's house? Will that ice cream cone become a before-bed disaster, or just a happy childhood memory? Has it been quiet just a moment too long in the playroom (or the bathroom)? But through these friends He also provides my JOY. I could raise these kids with just the help of the Lord, but something in my soul would always long for that missing companionship of other mothers. Through them, God provides encouragement and He meets my physical needs--a ride when I am stranded, a hug when I am dismayed, a hot meal when I have a newborn to hold.

Motherhood is hard. It's hard right from the day of conception. Back when I was pregnant with my first son, I used to say that I finally understood why God have us a nine-month gestation: Because it would take me at least that long to wrap my mind around the idea of how largely my life was about to change. Pregnancy took my sweet, skinny bridal body, gave it a few good punches, threw it around the room a bit until everything was in the wrong place, and then handed it back to me. I was a little bit horrified at the result! I was thankful to finally deliver, believing that after going through a difficult pregnancy and the thrills of labor, that I would begin to get my body back. Ahh, the deceit! The aches and pains! Oh, the joy of it all!

Motherhood is hard in every respect. It's the only occupation that doesn't require a degree, but expects you to adequately answer questions like "If I blow up a balloon, and take it with me into a rocket, and then go up into space, and let the balloon out the window, will it pop?" and "What would have happened to the world if Adam and Eve HADN'T have sinned?" before you've even had your first cup of coffee in the morning. And it's non-profit. On particularly hairy days in his construction world, Justin will come through the door grumbling, "I don't get paid nearly enough for what I do!" I always laugh, "Neither do I!"

Kari Anne Roy writes haiku poems about some of the less-than-beautiful (but definitely eternal) elements about motherhood. She compiled some of them in her book Haiku Mama: Because 17 Syllables Is All You Have Time To Read. Here are a few of my favorites.

O, lovely naptime.
You are better than birthdays
With the gifts you bring.

Yay! The perfect time
To strip down naked and scream--
When Mommy's on the phone.

Bubbles are awesome,
But don't pop them with your eyes.
Then they kind of suck.

When she was my mom,
She said no sweets before lunch.
Hypocrite grandma.

Here is one that is all too familiar:
Oh, photographer
Your misshapen, squeaky mouse
Is freaking him out.

Or,
Please, grocery lady,
Don't make him eat the free ham.
He is scared of you.

And the tie for my personal favorite:
Other playgroup moms,
So svelte in their yoga pants
While I eat cupcake.

And
Child hugging TV
Should probably not be your
Christmas card this year.

My favorite thing about being a mom is the LAUGHTER. Children laugh so, so much during a single day. I appreciate books like Haiku Mama because they, too, are a reminder of the joy that sometimes falls on the back burner when there are hungry boys to feed and a two-year-old to potty train, when the laundry pile has become Mt. Washmore and is threatening to not only take over the laundry room but belch its lava into the playroom, and when the gas bill is starting to arrive in the Blue Envelope, signifying that they are about to turn my heat off for lazyness, I mean, lack of payment. During these moments, I do well to take a deep breath shut my eyes to the seemingly incurable mayhem, and enter into the World of Play with my boys for a good half-hour or so. To build robots and Star Wars pods out of Legos, and draw our favorite sea creatures with fat Crayola markers, and play Crazy Faces Eights and laugh at the Onion Guy with his wild hair, and turn on the battery-powered Panda (don't ask) and race him up and down the beds, jumping up and down and cheering him all the way....(even though there is no one he is racing against....hmm....) These moments revive my spirit. It is the hardest thing in the world to turn my back on a messy house and disorganized checkbook and PLAY....but I find, every time, that when I finally leave the boys to their games and trek back upstairs into Real Life, I arrive with a smile on my face 100% of the time, and my burden does not feel so heavy. On the contrary, I race through my work in record time, having found new life in my calling.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of figuring out what motherhood really means. There are days I wish I could have figured it all out before actually having kids, but I'm realizing that's just not possible. This is an occupation with On The Job training. Only. Period. But despite the crying, the cranky attitudes, the whining, and the messes....and all the negative sides of my KIDS, too....I really don't ever wish I was anywhere else, doing any other job. This is my satisfaction. This job of Mothering enables me to try my hand at all of the things I have ever expressed interest in: Gardening, cooking, cutting hair, teaching school, managing finances....the list goes on and on. So what if the pay's not great? What other job can boast all of these perks?

Karissa: I know you share my heart on this. I am so thankful for you, every day, and for our like-minded approach to mothering.

One last thing I'd like to share: A poem by Amy Rosenthal, simply titled LOVE:

I love how when we're listening to the radio in the car the DJ's banter and band names are a foreign language to them and so they get hysterical and blurt out the few words they do recognize, like "Mom, he said 'Bare Naked Ladies'!"

And I love that whenever it's my or their dad's birthday, they can't grasp why there aren't any goody bags

And I love that they think yellow taxicabs are really just baby school buses

And I love that they refer to the exterminator as "the ant hunter"

And I love that they wonder if there is specifically "a Chicago heaven"?

And I love that when our flight was delayed for seven hours and I was a whiny brat they showed me that it was just as much fun to play at the terminal as anywhere else

And I love that they define my job of writing as "drinking coffee"

And I love that they get excited, I mean really excited, about Jurassic Park paper plates

And I love how they can say so much with so few words, for example, "Your feelings came into my feelings, and they came and took my good ones out"

And I love playing make-believe games with them where they get attacked by a tiger or vampire because then I get to revive them by slowly applying the "magic lotion" all over their soft yummy little legs and arms and cheeks

And I love being wakened (if one must be wakened up) by the words "Mom get up, get up, it's seven o'clock! WE'RE WASTING TIME WE COULD BE PLAYING!"

So Happy Soon-To-Be Birthday, Little One,
And Blessings on your Mama--she has earned another jewel in her crown!

I love you
Love, k

More About Slavery

Upon further reflection, I am remembering several occasions over the past several months when Cole has found me cleaning something arbitrary (Reuben's closet, the clothes pile in my room)and has asked, "Do you think I should pay you for that, Mom?"

(Don't worry. I always say "no".)

Do they really think I am this household's working slave? Or is it just that I do housework so infrequently, that they think they better provide immediate incentive, to "encourage" me to keep going?

Friday Confessions

....or, Things I Need To Get Off My Chest:

* It is 2pm and I only just got out of my jammies

* I bribed the boys with money this morning to get them to make their beds

* I'm pretty sure that spot on Reuben's pants is poo that leaked through his diaper, and though I changed his diaper, I didn't change his pants

* I asked Justin to get pizza for lunch so that I wouldn't have to do more dishes

* I made the kids drink water with their pizza, while I drank Pepsi in front of them

* The last entry in my checkbook is from before Sean was born

* I haven't yet written my baby thank-you cards, delivered some of my Christmas packages, or put away the wrapping paper

* I bribe Reuben with chocolate chips or mini-marshmallows to get him to use the potty

* Reese is so in need of a bath that when I ran my hand through his hair this morning, it stayed in the position I left it.....

BUT...

It is the weekend (hooray, hooray) and tomorrow is Sabbath (hooray, hooray) and we are all buzzing about the games we will play, the walks we will take, the lounging we will do....

What bliss! This is what grace is, to me!

Week 5

This is my new favorite photo of Sean.



Don't you just love when they do this? He's totally vertical, and it doesn't phase him in the least!



Love it.



We are entering week 5; Sean will be 1 month old on Saturday. I am in complete denial, and am frantically racking my memory for where the past four weeks have gone. How can he possibly be a month old already?



Everyone likes to talk about the First Six Weeks. Any good pregnancy/postpartum book will have an entire section on this, and veteran moms make a point of stopping first-time moms in the grocery store to encourage them to just get through the First Six Weeks. It's that magical time when you're expected to sit around in fat clothes, doing nothing---weepy, pudgy, sore, and sleep-deprived.



Four babies later, I have come to LOVE the First Six Weeks. I see myself getting grouchier the closer I'm getting to its inevitable end. The First Six Weeks represents the grace that I fail to give myself all of the other weeks of my childrens' lives. Grace to be a little manic, to ask for help, to embrace my expanded waistline. Grace to spend all afternoon snuggling my baby, even if it means that dinner is late to the table---or that we eat take-out, because there is no dinner at all.



The other night, I was up late nursing the baby and decided to sit at the computer with him afterwards, until he nodded off. So there I was, linking my way through blogs at 1:00 am, when I stumbled upon a blog detailing the labor and birth of a baby girl--a baby girl who was born on Reuben's 2nd birthday, in late November, and who died of congestive heart failure two days before Sean was born, mid-December. I was hysterical. I couldn't tear my eyes away. I sat in my dark living room in front of this glowing screen for over an hour, reading every account of her short little life, crying so hard I could hardly see the words.



After all that, I couldn't bring myself to go back to bed, so I sat up in the dark a while longer and cried some more. I absolutely couldn't bear the thought of wasting a single moment away from my new son, even for some much-needed sleep. I kept thinking: how are any of us immune from such grief? What if it happens to me, too?



Our First Six Weeks are almost over. I'm trying to make a game plan for the weeks to follow---a plan that includes remembering that baby girl and remembering to appreciate all of the little moments, even the ones that don't seem so fun at the time. Appreciating blurry-eyed midnight feedings and changing dirty diapers--realizing they are all part of the blessing, and that there are parents elsewhere who would give anything to change their baby's diaper, or be up all night with a crying newborn. The good and the bad are a packaged deal. I'm starting to get that now.

Matt and Nicole: We are overwhelmed with grief for you, and we are praying for peace to find you.