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!

"Mommy read book?"

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTMLexhwi0o?fs=1]

“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.

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.

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

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QR4Y6Ll0DwA?fs=1]

Returned from our two day rendezvous 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.

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