Thanksgiving

It’s a little early, but my mind is on Thanksgiving.

Specifically, the baskets our church will put together and deliver.

I’m making the rough draft of the shopping list tonight.

And I keep getting stuck.

I want to help people, I just don’t know if a cardboard box full of potatoes is enough.

So many people are struggling. I want to help them shoulder their burden. But their burden is being shouldered for me.

The government has so many programs to help. How is the box I pack going to make a significant difference in their life?

I’m afraid it won’t.

People need more than food.

They need us to care. They need us to love.

God has blessed us richly in the ways that matter. His love… The love of His people…

So how do we put that in a Thanksgiving Basket?

I want it to be more than just food for their bellies.

So, I added this list to the bottom of our Thanksgiving Basket shopping list.

Love
~A pretty tablecloth… A nice candle or two… A pumpkin…
A football… A few fun things for the kids… A great magazine…
A pretty serving bowl… A favorite cookbook…
Homemade bread… A jar of preserves…
Copies of your favorite recipes with you favorite
Bible verse and loving words printed on the back…
Fresh fall flowers…

 

Still, it just doesn’t seem enough.

Is there a worthy sacrifice I can make? How can I make them feel God’s LOVE?

Any suggestions? I sure could use your help.

A Good Day…

Some days are just… Good.

My boy read “If You Give A Moose A Muffin,” giggling all the way.

My laundry got done… well, except for that load I meant to hang out. Guess that’ll go on the line in the morning.

My baby boy fell asleep in my arms. I kissed his little nose. A lot.

The sun was shining and my kiddos were playing in the yard. Meanwhile, a certain, very much used and slightly mistreated porch swing got that stain that I’ve been promising it for so long.

Then, after popping some baked beans into the oven to bake, we headed outside yet again. My kiddos played on the giant dirt pile left from the work we had done in our barn. I built a nice little fire in the fire pit.

My honey brought home chocolate bars and a bottle of Oliver Black Cherry.

Then, there were hotdogs. And there were marshmallows with chocolate and graham cracker s’more goodness.

And there were sparklers.

And it was good... A very good day…

Terrific Toy Story Party

Now that Mary’s party is done, I get to share pictures from the party my sis-in-love threw for my niece.

She puts together parties that are lovely and amazing. I know you’re gonna enjoy this!

 

Seemed wrong to cut into such an amazing cake! Amazing…

She used marshmallows (cut in half) for the tops of the hats. Adorable…

These star shaped cookies turned into perfect sheriff badges when she added those sweet little candies to the points. Yum…

Gummy worm snakes…

And lunch fit for any cowboy!

What a lovely time!

Wonderful Watermelon Party

My little girl just turned eight. Eight. As in, no longer required by our state to ride in a car seat, eight. As in, now being marketed to as a “pre-teen,” eight. Eight.

Thank goodness, she’s still happy to be a little girl.

For this year’s birthday party, she asked to have a watermelon theme.  Can do.

So, we had a watermelon cake…

And a watermelon roll relay race…

And a watermelon eating contest…

And seed-spittin’ contests…

And, of course…

Watermelon.

It was such a good time. Thanks to all the family and friends who chose to spend their day with us. Thank you, so much!

One O’clock in the Morning…

And here I am… Finally sitting down with a glass of strawberry wine finding the words to share with my friends. Five quarts of green beans have been picked, blanched, cooled and frozen. One 4-H project has been completed under the watchful eyes of momma. Five loads of laundry washed, hung to dry, and brought in to be folded and put away. Popcorn is still on the family room floor.

It’s been a busy week, filled with green beans, pickle making, and getting my oldest off to camp and then back, trying to keep up with the never-ending laundry. I’d like to find time to make some of those old-fashioned crystal pickles mom used to make, but I must admit that I’m a bit glad to see the cucumbers slowing down a bit. The corn is coming on fast, with silks that are already turning brown. I expect to be in the kitchen, freezing up a bunch by the weekend.

It seems that the list never ends. And I’ve been craving a bit of quiet, a keyboard under my fingers. It feels naughty, sitting here when I should be in bed sleeping. But here I am. Making the words. Letting them pour out, really.

And I feel bad that my Sunday wasn’t a day of rest. None of my days are, really.

But somewhere in the midst of things that must be done, we snuck in a trip to the beach at a local lake. We spent a bit of time at the playground. We had a family picnic at the lake. I did a bit of yard-sale shopping. We ate ice cream for supper. And honey and I went out, just us, to buy diesel fuel and grab a few sliders at the White Castle.

Our days are full of work, but we weave in fun and memories where we can.

Somehow, it’s enough. It’s rich. It’s lovely. It’s good.

Missed you all this busy week. Hope your week was wonderfully busy, filled with accomplishments and folks you love. :) Hope the upcoming week brings many memories, too. I may be a bit scarce for awhile, but that sweet corn will sure taste good in December.

Thanks for stopping by.

Fatima

Eleven Years Ago

Eleven years ago, I married the most wonderful man in the world.

And eleven years later, I love him more than words can say.

Thanks, Eric, for being the one.

And thanks to everyone else, for all the love and encouragement shared through the years.

A Little Cowboy Turns Six

Have you ever seen such a cute little cowboy?

He had the best birthday party ever.

It was a great cowboy cookout, In The BARN! Do you understand the excitement that comes from partying in the barn?!

His momma kind of enjoyed this year’s theme, too! I love decorating with red, white and blue, lots of bandannas, and straw bales. My kind of party…

The meandering path got some use by our little cowboys and cowgirls.

 

And Sarah did a little fashion design with the left over tissue paper from the gifts.

My mom contributed these cool candle holders for the tables. She used old glass jars, cut out cowboys, modge podge, and some old electric fence wire. Very cute. Ummm…. Mom…. You aren’t getting these back, you know?!

The fireflies were not cooperative during the party, but the kids did find quite a few potato bugs to put in their jars. And that made me very happy.

Who needs party games when you have big piles of gravel? I bet the bath water turned brown that night, but the kids had a great time!

The saw-horse rides were pretty popular, too.

It was simple. It was fun. And it was very good. Thanks everyone, for helping us celebrate Danny’s sixth birthday.

Four is Enough?

If you had asked me years ago about my family plans, I would have said I hoped for two and just maybe three children. I never dreamed of or desired a large family.

And then, Mary was born. It was one of those horror story/happy ending labor stories that should only be shared with those who enjoy such things and never with anyone expecting their first child. After all that, I wasn’t sure I wanted more children.

When I found that our second was on the way, my joy was somewhat overshadowed by fear. I went doctor hunting with a list of questions just like I was interviewing a job candidate. I was thorough... I was tough as nails… And I cried when I met Dr. Dunn. She was an amazing Ob/Gyn. I knew that with her on my side, I would somehow make it through the ordeal ahead.

A few weeks before due date, my amazing doc was thrown from a horse and shattered her wrist. Her office staff called me that day. I was paralyzed with fear. As soon as she was out of surgery, Dr Dunn called me to reassure me that a back-up doc was already found and that I could meet him before birth.

And then, Danny came early, unexpectedly, and with complications. They had to take him fast and by C-section. I met the new doc in head spinning fashion a few minutes before they wheeled me into the operating room. He did a beautiful job delivering my little one with the assistance of my bandaged up Dr. Dunn. She scrubbed in. Less than one week after a terrible fall, she scrubbed in. Just for me. Because she cared. It restored my hope that doctors care about patients.

When we found number three was on the way, I went back to the doctor’s office like I was going to see old friends. When Dr. Dunn said that I should plan on this third c-section being my last, I was okay with it. A family of five. I worked for me. I signed the papers. It’s was a done deal.

And then, after Sarah had cried for the first time and I had kissed her sweet little head, Dr. Dunn told us the good news that things looked good enough for a fourth c-section. We opted to leave everything in working order and make the decision later.

A few shopping trips, a few family functions, and a few birthday parties later… I was sure I was done. Plenty outnumbered and certainly done. I pushed Eric to make the decision permanent.

I bought that last pregnancy test, full of shock and disbelief, wondering how I could possibly keep up with four little ones ages five and under, I dreaded telling anyone what I already knew. I cried. I really did. How on earth could I handle four little ones spaced so closely. What were people going to say? How many corny jokes would I have to put up with? How would I answer those who asked, “How in the world are you going to keep up?"

I was terrified. I felt inadequate. I felt strange to be a mother of so many. I felt conspicuous and odd.

So I kept it all a secret for awhile. Even when a good friend asked if we planned more children, I lied outright and told her that we certainly didn’t plan any more children. I laughed and cried a bit inside as I said that.

Somehow, as pregnancy settled in, I came to peace with my new, improved, ever-enlarging family. And it was okay. We finally told our family and friends. Though there were good natured jokes, it wasn’t nearly as terrible as I feared.

But we still had only three little ones to chase.

All my children had somehow been spaced an even 22 months apart. Baby number four had the kindness to follow the pattern in some crazy act of divine wisdom or coincidence… I’ll never know which.

But what that means in practical terms is that every time I had a two year old (ahem…. terrible two), I also had a newborn to care for. That’s a hard thing. I was so frightened that I wouldn’t be able to do it with four little ones. I was terrified.

I was so afraid to be a mom of many. I didn’t know what it would look like, or feel like, or be like.

But, I found that I could do the job just fine. The job description had just changed to better suit my family’s needs.

I could never do what a mother of one or two can do. I can never be a mom of three. I am a mom of many. Slowly but surely, I found that being this kind of mom means I can’t be the kind of mom some of my friends are. I can’t do all the things for my kids that a mother of two can. I can’t take them to the same kinds of places, because there is a baby to take into account. I can’t spend as much time with just one child. I can’t buy them as many things. I can’t always read their favorite book before bed. I must admit I have felt some guilt over such things.

Slowly and surely, I have seen that success being a mom of many just looks different.

Instead of mother/daughter nights, we have girls’ nights. Instead of having lots of great toys (though they have more than plenty), they have each other to play with. Instead of going to Chicago to see the city, we go camping down the road at a state park. Instead of signing the kids up for individual lessons somewhere, we find things to do together as a family. Instead of always getting our own way, we bend to the needs/desires of the others in our family. Instead of being everything to my little ones, we are everything to each other all at the same time. And my heart grew four sizes times infinity…

And the farther down the road I get in my full of car-seats vehicle, the more that I see the wonder of the gift of being a mom of many. And I thank God for planning to give me my sweet little Sam, just at the perfect time.

And sometimes (even though my body is done having babies), I wonder what it would be like if there were more little ones to love. And I wonder how I could have ever missed the amazing life God planned for me.

Loving life with a full house.
Thankful that God knew better.
I’m happy to be a momma of many.

Let ‘em Struggle

If my children don’t choose to go to college, that’s okay with me. If they aren’t sports stars, great ballerinas, or fantastic gymnasts, that’s fine too. Though I’d love to see my kids enjoy great success in life, there are other things I see as more important. I have bigger goals for them than being successful.

I want them to be good people. I want them to look at others with compassion and love, understanding and kindness. I want them to take care of their families and friends. I want them to love God.

I also want them to be able to do things. As they enter adulthood, I want them to go out into the world with great knowledge of the everyday stuff needed to live life.

We have some pretty lofty goals for raising our children. Besides the obvious goal for our children to be “good people,” I also want them to be capable.

By age 12, I hope our children will have a basic knowledge of cooking, cleaning, balancing a budget, filling out forms, home and car repair, and first aid (among others). By age 16, they should be fully prepared to be self sufficient. The years between 16 and whenever they leave our home will be years to practice caring for their own needs with us here for support and advice.

And all of this training starts now.

It’s telling the two year old, “You must try to put on your own shoe. Do your best.”

It’s watching a four year old struggle to pour her own milk, knowing a mess is likely in the process of learning.

It’s being the “mean momma” when the six year old wants to give up on finishing a job, reminding him to tough it out because the animals or the family is depending on his good work.

It’s letting the eight year old do something big, cooking a meal for the family. It’s standing aside as she struggles. Letting her make a few mistakes. Giving her time to figure it out, and offering advice only when there might be danger or she asks for it.

I have learned to step back from the initial impulse to jump in with help for them. I know that letting them struggle to do something on their own will help them more in the long run.

It’s hard to stand back when you could help. It’s tempting to do things for the kids to avoid messes. It’s not much fun being the bad guy who makes sure the job is complete. It’s not easy letting go of the reins.

But, it is very important.

And so, I let them struggle sometimes. In the struggle, they often find that they can, indeed, do the things that were so difficult. They gain skill, knowledge, and self-confidence.

Though I don’t want them to grow up and leave, I know they will. I don’t want that time to be a struggle, full of mistakes and hard-knocks. So, I let them struggle now in a world where there are hugs and folks who can catch them if they fall.

There’s a lot of love in letting them struggle….

Road Trip, 2011

Did you miss us? I must admit, I missed my computer. I’m looking forward to spending a bit of time with a cup of coffee reading my favorite blogs, too!

We spent a long weekend on the road, traveling to Des Moines, Iowa, for my sweet cousin’s beautiful wedding.

Everything went perfectly. At the wedding.

Our trip, well…..  Not so much. ;)

We were scheduled to leave on Thursday. On Wednesday, I got a bad case of cold feet after my washing machine locked up and quit working, leaving me to hand wash two loads of laundry that day. I cried. Then, I went to my husband and asked to cancel the trip while I cried some more. Let’s be honest, here. I was feeling so inadequate that a trip with four littles across hundreds of miles seemed impossible. Crazy. Insane.

My husband talked logic to me. It didn’t work. Finally, he gave up and hugged me. Amazing how that works. I was all better and ready to conquer the world (or at least go shopping for that swimsuit I had been avoiding).

With the swimsuit purchased after trying on many, many suits in more stores than I care to count, I made it home Wednesday night around 10:30 with the supplies for the trip.

I’d like to say that everything was packed and ready to go on Thursday morning, but remember my little washing machine incident?! Thursday morning left me packing for myself and the kids. I rocked. I really did. We had everyone organized and ready to go, breakfast served and cleaned up, car loaded, and hit the road by 11:00 a.m. as was our goal. I was so very proud.

 

We stopped at a state park for a break mid-afternoon. A picnic lunch/dinner and a hike really made a great break from travel.

The kids were happily loaded back in the car, and we were on our way. Some fun travel packs a friend (she’s pretty special) prepared for the kids made the rest of the ride easier. We were cruising along, having a pretty good time.

We were amazed at this wind farm. It was amazing to see the huge windmills that filled the landscape for as far as we could see!

It was somewhere around this part of the trip, when we had been on the road for 6 hours or so, when Eric innocently asked me if I had remembered to load the garment bag with his suit and my dress for the wedding. And the tears came again! I forgot the bag. Truly. We had everything we needed to go to the wedding except clothes. I honestly felt like the biggest failure in the world. Of all things to forget! Why couldn’t it have been something easy to replace like toothbrushes?!

Too late to go back, we pressed on toward Des Moines and arrived in the middle of the night. Kids tucked into a hotel bed, I was so relieved to have made it safely with the only tears of the trip being my own!

Friday, we recovered from the trip. My brother and sis-in-love took their girls to an amusement park. We opted out, in favor of the hotel water-park and shopping for some clothes for the wedding. ;P Breakfast from McDonalds, and a trip to the pool wore the kids out enough that they all napped at the same time!  I took off for the nearest mall, leaving Eric with the sleeping beauties. I shopped desperately for a dress suitable for a wedding. And found nothing. Nothing. What few dresses I found were either cut so low my belly button would’ve showed or looked like something someone’s grandmother should have worn! Again, many tears and a helpful lady suggested a trip to a nearby mall where there were some better stores.

I called Eric, who quite frankly thought I had lost my mind.

Still, he loaded up the kids and drove us to that mall, where we found not one, but two dresses for me and pants, a shirt, and a tie for him in less than an hour! I know in the grand scheme, the clothes and the worries were pretty small potatoes. I know that, at least in my head. But in my travel wearied state, they sure didn’t seem like a little thing. They felt like a great big failure.

We clean up pretty nice…. :) Love this dress!
Makes me almost glad I forgot the clothes… But don’t tell my honey. ;)

Dinner with my Dad and Step-mom, my brother, sis-in-love, and nieces made for a very special evening for my family. We followed that up with a trip together to the water park. It was lovely. Simple, beautiful, and lovely.

The wedding was beautiful, as was the bride. I love a good wedding, and this one had me crying before all the friends and family were even seated! Kate included a poem written by our grandmother in the wedding program. It was such a beautiful tribute to a lady we both adored so much. I cried when her dad walked her down the aisle, and again when I realized that the song playing during the lighting of the candles was performed and pre-recorded by the couple! It was truly one of the most elegant and beautiful weddings I have been a part of.

Daniel was not so taken by the wedding. He looked at me with silent tears streaming down his face and then whispered to me… “Mom, it’s just sooooo boooorriinnnnngggggg! Can we pleeeeaaaaassssse go home now?” Between some giggles, I whispered back, “No! We drove ten hours to this wedding and it’s very important to me to be here. You’re gonna have to deal with it and sit here quietly. Just watch for the kiss. That means it’s almost over.” And he did. You never did see such relief at a kiss in any little boy’s face!

The reception was a delight to all of us!

Mary and her cousin did some serious visiting. Wish I knew what they were saying…

Sarah watched and admired every move made by the bride, and has been playing dress-up bride ever since!

Sam was happy to eat and visit with the other little ones.

And Daniel… who hated the wedding so much it made him cry….
Well, he ruled the dance floor with his cousin! We all stood by and watched as they spun round, danced, and dipped for almost an hour. They were amazing! Truly. This boy of mine will make a catch for some girl some day… If she can get him to make it through the boring wedding. ;)

We enjoyed more time with family on Sunday, and then began the journey home on Monday, stopping along the way for an amazing meal and visit with some good friends. They took us for a walk on a retired section of Route 66. It was a beautiful, and lovely end to our trip.

So now we are home, catching up on laundry (the washer is miraculously working… for now). My garden has grown, my house is a mess, and my kids slept late this morning. Life is good.

So here, for those who care to read them, are my tips for travel with littles.

1. Stop along the way for active play. A lot.
2. Pack healthy, whole-grain snacks and juices for a break from the fast food.
3. Silly games really help make the car ride more tolerable. Bring along some ideas.
4. Be ready for the trip to take much longer than it should. Get there when you get there so that there isn’t any stress along the way, pushing you to go farther between stops than the kids can handle.
5. Be prepared for something to go wrong. It will. And it isn’t the end of the world, it just seems like it.
6. Do stay at a hotel with a pool or water park. It’s amazing the stress relief that comes from splashing in the water with your littles.
7. Make a stop at a local grocery for fruit to bring back to the hotel room. It’s such a lovely and welcome treat!
8. Plan for at least one day of recuperating when you get home. You’ll need it and so will the kids!
9. Be patient with each other. Don’t expect perfect behavior or perfect people.
10. Have fun!

I missed you all. So good to be back home!

Thankful Thursday

Today, I’m thankful for…

The “Lone Ranger” in his favorite torn-up jeans…

Handfuls of daisies…

Taking time to smell the flowers…

Fresh Eggs…

Flowers for the table…

And sleeping little ones…

 

What are you thankful for today?

Father’s Day Photo Frame

The kids and I made this for Eric last year.

A link to last year’s post about it is here.

 

Thought I’d share, just in case you are looking for some good gift ideas for dad…

Father’s day will be here before you know it!

Have fun!

Goodness, they have grown…

 

Sharing this today over at…