Dear Mom...

"Her children rise up and call her blessed" -Proverbs 31:28

Mom,
I remember the first time, after Noah was born, when I called you and thanked you for everything you did as a mom.  It wasn't until I became one that I really realized what being a stay-at-home mom meant.
When Noah became a toddler, I discovered how many meals you either had to re-heat or eat cold.  I found out how you can collapse on a couch in the evening and feel exhausted while also wondering if you managed to accomplish anything during the day.  Thank you for your sacrifices, Mom.   
When Eleanor has her sassy moments and she is willfully disobedient and drives me insane, I am amazed that you were able to raise two daughters.  I remember the way Stephanie and I used to fight.  Thank you for not strangling us, Mom.
When Caleb struggles with his speech and I take the extra time to help him hear the word, form his mouth, and try again, I think of the times you made flash cards to help us learn.  You read countless library books to us.  Thank you for being a teacher, Mom.
When Ezekiel is supposed to be burping but instead curls up against me and nestles his face into my neck as he falls asleep, I am reminded that my original life plans didn't have a fourth child in them and I am so very, very thankful that God changed my plans.  I know, Mom, there are days you regret not going to college.  Thank you for encouraging me to go, to leave home when I graduated, to experience life a bit before settling down with a family.
I hope you can see, Mom, how your decisions have had a lasting impact, are always leaving a legacy.
I know that, in the last couple years, especially, you have struggled with feeling like a failure and a bad mom.  You're not.  I never thought you were.  Thank you, also, for welcoming Tim into our family, for loving him as a son, for encouraging him in and giving him verbal affirmation with his talents and abilities.  He loves you as well.
And just as I hope my kids do this for me one day, I forgive you, Mom.  For all the times I may not remember, that you may carry guilt over, I forgive you.  I know there are days when I think, I hope my kids don't remember all the times I failed today and this moment I've lost my patience, lost my mind. I hope they forgive me for days like these.  I forgive you for passing on a spirit of worry and anxiety that your mom passed on to you.  I forgive you for decisions you made that had effects on our family.  I know you're not perfect.  Thankfully, you know that more important than my forgiveness, is God's.
Thank you, most of all, for passing on that most important fact in life.  Thank you for teaching me about God's love, forgiveness, and saving grace.  As I have become an adult and grown older, I appreciate and enjoy watching you grow in your faith and encourage me in mine.  Thank you for teaching me that it is a journey and we always have room to grow and learn. 
You are a blessing, Mom.  You are blessed.  You bless others.
I love you.
Andrea



            

                

Thoughts Merging

It is quiet at my parents' house. Outside, that is. Huddled in a warm hooded sweatshirt and surrounded by a blanket, I sit on their back deck in crisp morning air. Alone.
I listen to birds twittering and calling and take pause when they fly to the bird feeders just feet away from where I sit. Chickadees and finches flit quickly about. My parents live on ten acres and I look forward into a wooded area.
Rest. Peace. Quiet. I find myself thinking of them often, longing for them, writing of them. Probably because with four kids under six years old, I don't have much quiet or rest. Sometimes I find myself anxious for the days when my kids are older - teenagers who sleep in, and I have the opportunity to wake up and drink a cup of chai by myself.
As I stare at the yard and the grass so green in April, I can already imagine summer visits here. I can visualize Ellie in a sundress - how she loves dresses right now - running like the tornado she is, barefoot through the grass. I can see the bruises and scrapes covering the legs of little adventurous boys, telltale markings of summer. Dirty feet and knees and fingernails. Skin kissed by the sun. Ezekiel learning to crawl and discovering this new outdoor land.
The land I grew up on myself. Running in and between clothes drying on a long line stretched between two posts. Gleeful shrieks coming from four-wheeler rides with Grandpa. Adventure walks back into the woods. I should take them on a picnic back there this year. Running after bubbles and through sprinklers and falling onto soft green blades of mowed grass.
Soon my own childhood memories mix with my visions of future moments with my children and I see them juxtaposed. It stops me and I think of how I enjoyed being a kid in the summer. How I have days when I long to go back. And it hits me that so many days I want life to speed up to get to "easier times and ages" of the kids and I realize -
Why would I want to wish these away for them?

His Imagination is Growing

They came.

By helicopter and rescue vehicle they came.

By motorcycle they came.


In a large mass with briefcases and in uniforms they came.

And after they worked at their stations,

And after they put away bad guys...

They made one boy very happy to show off his creation.

Tea?

A couple months ago, on a day when Tim was home from work, Noah was at school, a very tired Caleb was catching up with a morning nap, along with a sleeping newborn, Tim and I invited Ellie to a tea party while playing a Fancy Nancy card game. She accepted and we donned our finest.

Cupcakes and cranberry juice were served.

And we ate every last morsel.

Springter!

Happy first day of spring!
Although, we had such a mild winter for Michigan, and the last few days have been in the '80s and sunny, that it feels like we skipped spring and wait straight to summer. I keep having to remind myself that we're only in March, yet it feels like school should be ending anytime now. Flowers are starting to grow, buds are coming in on trees, mosquitoes have made their appearance...yuck on that one. My kids are covered in sweat and dirt most days as they come in from afternoons spent building forts, pretending to guard castles, and chasing down robbers stealing from banks. It is fun to watch how their imaginations have grown in the past year and how differently they play outside now compared to last summer. It's an entirely new world for them in the backyard.
We have changes that are going to happen in our family - NO, there are no more babies expected, so clear that one out of your head. I am going to wait a little longer in announcing it, just until it gets closer to the time.
I love all the newness of springtime, all the rebirth. God brought us out of a rough winter and we are especially basking in His warmth and goodness after being in a desert land. Great is His faithfulness, indeed!
I'll leave you with some photos from a recent trip to Meijer Gardens. The butterflies are out and flying around!

Noah and Caleb check out what's outside the window.

As does Ellie, who wore foam curlers in her hair for the first time the night before.

Rest

It is quiet in the house tonight. Noah and Tim are at AWANA. I am home with a tired Caleb, a just-shy-of-healthy Eleanor, and Ezekiel, who is napping before his next feeding.
The living room is dimly lit, just enough to read and write without straining eyes. In the dining room, a candle burns bright in the middle of the table. Bon Iver's music is softly streaming from the kitchen.
It is late February and at almost 7:00 it is not quite dark yet, a wonderful sneak peek of longer - and warmer - days just around the corner.
The scene is ideal, isn't it? Why? This is not what our home was like just two hours ago. At that time, the kids were noisily chasing each other through the house while i tried to tell Ellie to lay on the couch and rest. Tim was trying to calm a crying 10-week-old who knew it was time for his dinner as I stood in the kitchen preparing plates of food and thanking God for meals that only need to be re-heated from the freezer.
The opposite of now.
I think that to have that peace and quiet in the midst of, or following, chaos is important. It allows our brains to think without multitasking. It lets our bodies sit and rest after a day of what feels like non-stop movement. It is a moment we can grasp to enjoy a hobby without feeling guilty for it.
Take time to rest.
To refill.
Re-energize.
To listen to God.
Read.
Be silent.
Enjoy.

"And he said to them, 'Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.' For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat." -Mark 6:31

Sun

Have you ever noticed how things seem brighter with the sun?
I noticed this one day while I was folding laundry. Folding laundry is such a chore for me. When the days are gray and dreary and seem hopeless, I let the piles of clean clothes sit in our bedroom and ignore them. But with the sun, well, that's another story. Suddenly, I can tackle the chores and even be cheerful in doing it.
Walking around, I notice that our house is overall more pleasant in the presence of the sun. The kids seem to play better, their parents refreshed, and joy fills the home. Warmth. Light. Ah, the sun.
I love the sun. I love the way it drives out the dreary from our home, from our attitudes. I love the boost it gives on days that could otherwise feel hopeless. I love the way the sun causes rebirth and growth and new life - Spring!
I feel I can tackle just about anything on a day I open my eyes and see the sun.

Have you ever noticed how things seem brighter with the SON?
I noticed this one day while I was folding laundry. Folding laundry is such a chore for me. When the days are gray and dreary and seem hopeless, I let the piles of clean clothes sit in our bedroom and ignore them. But with the SON, well, that's another story. Suddenly, I can tackle the chores and even be cheerful in doing it.
Walking around, I notice that our house is overall more pleasant in the presence of the SON. The kids seem to play better, their parents refreshed and joy fills the home. Warmth. Light. Ah, the SON.
I love the SON. I love the way HE drives out the dreary from our home, from our attitudes. I love the boost HE gives on days that could otherwise feel hopeless. I love the way the SON causes rebirth and growth and new life - Spring!
I feel I can tackle just about anything on a day I open my eyes and see the SON.

"Whatever you do, do heartily, as for the Lord and not for men." -Colossians 3:23
"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." -Philippians 4:13

Forgive Me

My dear Ezekiel,
Last night held a..."a moment" you could say. We haven't been to church since the beginning of December. Between your birth and traveling and people being sick and just overall transitioning, we decided to lay low for a few weeks. I stayed home yesterday morning with you and Caleb since he has an ear infection and has been having a rough time lately.
Last night, however, we did take an hour to go to the prayer meeting at church since they were focusing on praying over certain committees and Daddy is on one of them. In the time leading up to prayer, when some requests were being shared, you started squawking and squeaking and making all those adorable noises newborns make. Our pastor, who was sitting in the row in front of us, raised his hand and said, "Those noises you hear behind me come from one of our newest members, Ezekiel Ross. I find it fitting that his first time in church would be at prayer meeting tonight. It was a prayer meeting just months ago that his mom stood up and announced she was pregnant and scared. Now here he is and we're all happy to have him here."
It's true, Zeke. I stood up at a prayer meeting in the spring, the only other one we've been to, actually, and told them about how I felt when I found out I was pregnant this time. I was angry. Terrified. An emotional mess. I cried for days.
And the Lord met me in my emotional wreck. He used a devotional reading from the book, "Jesus Calling" to speak to my heart and remind me Who was - Who is - in control.
You see, Ezekiel, I don't feel I do the mothering thing well.
I am not who I thought I would be as a mom. My life is not what I thought it would be. I know now that is ok, but I am learning how to find joy in my present. You and Caleb were not in my plan.
That is why I am so surprised - so thankful - by the intensity of love I feel for both of you. I know you could read this one day and take it as me saying you weren't wanted.
Not true.
Although you were a surprise to me and Dad, although it was difficult for me to wrap my mind around having four children, although it meant a change of plans that we had set for ourselves...I cherished my pregnancy with you still. I gasped at those first flutterings when I felt you move inside me. I cried when I saw your heart beat on that fuzzy ultrasound monitor. I loved hearing the ultrasound technician tell us you were a boy.
When you look up and your eyes catch mine and they hold, my heart melts, Ezekiel. I wonder at times if I am going to break out in sobs the way my eyes tear up. It amazes me that a heart can hold so much love.
Love for Noah.
Love for Eleanor.
Love for Caleb.
Love for you.
How does the heart not divide in this way of love in order to be there for each one? Yes, time has to be divided. While the love is multiplied and abounds, time divides unfortunately. Noah had those special first years of parenthood from us. The learning years of devoted, undivided time. No one else will really have that.
It doesn't mean we love any of you less, however.
I can't imagine our life without you in it. Not yet 4 weeks on this earth and you have already made your place firmly in our family. I could hold you all day long if given the opportunity and not grow tired of being close to you. Your dad loves to snuggle up with you at the end of the day to relax. Your siblings always want to know where you are, what you're doing...yes, at times the novelty of a new brother has worn off...but they can't wait for you to grow bigger so they can play with you.
You are wonderful.
You are a gift...such a gift.
You are loved.
You have already been used by God to teach us so much and it is my prayer that one day you will open your heart to Him in order to be used for much more.

I love you with a part of my heart I didn't know existed until your birth~
Love,
Mom

Happy Birth Day!

He came on the day we prayed he wouldn't.
Two days past his due date, and having rejected the ideal days to be born, he made his appearance, just a reminder that babies will come when they want (unless they're a c-section or induction.) Ellie's first preschool Christmas program was on a Thursday morning so I had gone from asking people to pray her baby brother would be born on a certain day to asking them to pray that he wouldn't come until Thursday afternoon at the earliest.
He didn't get the memo.
On Wednesday, December 14th, I woke up at 1:30am. Just because. You know how it goes - you're pregnant, you have to wake up and pee every couple hours. Typically I fall quickly asleep again but not this time. Then, at 3:00am, just as I was starting to drift off to sleep finally, I felt a contraction. Quite a bit stronger than the ones I had been feeling over the past couple weeks.
11 minutes later another one.
9 minutes later another.
"Tim," I said quietly.
"Hmmmm?" he muttered sleepily.
"I think we're having a baby today."
"Ok."
7 minutes later another.
Then another.
"I'm going to start getting everything together," I told him.
"Why don't you lay down and rest?" he asked. "We're not supposed to go in until they're 5 minutes apart for an hour."
"Yeah," I countered. "That rule doesn't apply to people on their fourth delivery, when the past two labors were only four hours long and who have to drive forty minutes in to the hospital and who are already dilated to four centimeters. I'm getting up."
He was so laid back it was driving me crazy.
I finished packing the suitcases and went on to wake the kids up since the contractions had started being 5 minutes apart and it was now 4:00am. I called our friends who had offered to watch the kids and told them to meet us at the hospital. I called my mom and set up plans with her that my dad would still go in to work, she would still wait at home for the fuel gas people to come fill their tank (they had not had heat for 4 days before that) and they would come to Grand Rapids that evening to see us and pick up the kids.
Tim, during this time, was deciding to get the kids a snack and was still quite laid back.
I was still yelling out contractions and suddenly Tim snapped into reality.
"Quick! They're four minutes apart! Get in the car! Get the kids in the car! Do you have everything?"
After loading up our very excited and very awake children and the suitcases, we were off to GR. We pulled up to the hospital around 5:00am and he dropped me off at the ER entrance, then went to meet our friends and hand the kids off to them. I made my way in and was soon taken up to triage where they put me on the bed, declared me 6 cm dilated and strapped the monitors to me.
And that's when my labor started stalling.
I was moved up to a labor and delivery room and my contractions slowed to around 8 minutes apart and mild enough to not be bothersome. I started sleeping between them. My doctor broke my water and nothing progressed. I briefly walked the halls and bounced on the birthing ball with no success.
My doctor started Pitocin at 9:00am.
At 10:00 am I was still at a 6 with nothing happening. The nurse upped the Pitocin a bit and suggested I lay in a different position. Since I had felt his head down on the left side of my pelvic bone area for the end of the pregnancy, I decided to lay on my right side in hopes it would help him slide down.
And did it!
The contractions immediately started coming 2-3 minutes apart and after a couple, I called my nurse back in. She checked me and said I was at a 7. I called her back in a few minutes later and said I felt LOTS of pressure and that I felt like I had to go to the bathroom. She said that was good, that it was the baby moving down.
I told her she had better check me again. She seemed a little hesitant since she had just been in there to check but did it anyways.
I was 9 cm.
She called my doctor in and he checked me and said it was time to push.
After about 15-20 minutes of pushing - which I could have shortened because I knew I wasn't pushing the right way but I was stalling it then, I could remember the pain from pushing Caleb out, the "ring of fire" if you will, and just really, REALLY didn't want to feel it again - when my doctor said, "I can see his head. I see hair."
"Dark hair?" I asked.
"Dark hair."
"Lots of it?" I asked with hope.
"I see the top of a head with lots of dark hair," he confirmed.
And with that, my baby came out with the next push.
After 8 hours since my first contraction, with only 3 of those hours actually feeling like I was in labor and 5 hours being stalled, we welcomed our fourth baby - third son - into the world at 11:05am.
Ezekiel Nelson Ross
Ezekiel means "Strength of God" and we picked it because we were knew we were going to need God's strength to enter a season of life we never expected by having four children.
Nelson is my maiden name. My parents only had two girls and so it's a way for me to honor my dad and pass on his last name.
His nickname is Zeke.
He has been an added surprise into our journey and less than a month ago we welcomed him with love.

Early Mornings and Waiting

Well, am I an inconsistent blogger or what?
November 22nd - 2 days until Thanksgiving. 20 days until my due date.
I started nesting over the weekend. Things that were on my to-do list for this week just couldn't wait any longer in my mind by the time last Saturday rolled around. The baby clothes were sorted by size, washed, dried and put away. Tim found me in our bedroom emptying books off a tall bookshelf that I suddenly decided was to be moved to a different area of the room. Thankfully, he found me before the bookshelf had been moved so he could do that part himself. I'm a bit stubborn and when I start rearranging I tend to forget the restrictions...or maybe ignore them, I'm not sure.
The bassinet has been set up in the little area that was cleared by moving the bookshelf. The changing table area on top our dresser is ready and waiting for a baby. Although I need to find the changing pad. Or buy a new one if I gave the other away. Hmmm. That's on the to-do list for today.
To-do lists. One to be done today: Clean bathroom. Change sheets on beds. Pick up house before small group tonight. Finish reading the chapter to be discussed for small group.
There's the brief Thanksgiving one to be done tomorrow before heading to my parents' house: pack an overnight bag and bake an apple pie.
There's the homemade Christmas gifts one: make superhero capes for the kids. Make a blanket for Caleb. Tim - make dress up clothes station for Ellie.
I still have to pack my hospital bag.
And work: research and write grants.
To-do lists to be accomplished while waiting. And waiting. And waiting. I know these last weeks are going to fly by and yet sometimes I think they are the hardest. The discomfort has set in.
Waking up every 2 hours at night to go to the bathroom and roll over to sleep on my other side. Waking up at 5:00 every morning and not being able to fall back asleep. Although, I'd rather wake up at 5:00 am than 4:00 am, which is what was happening for awhile. I like these quiet morning hours with everyone else asleep. It allows for time to do different things: catch up on Pinterest, read, have my quiet/devotional time, work.
The early mornings are also making me excited for when this little one decides to join the family. I love looking around the living room and picturing it decorated for Christmas. The tree in the corner with twinkling lights, stockings hung on our "mantle", the peaceful quiet in the early morning hours all snuggled up in a blanket with a warm cup of chai or tea or hot chocolate. I'm looking forward to feeding and snuggling a tiny body against mine in this room in the hours where it is just him and I.
And so I wait...patiently...impatiently...it goes back and forth. We can't wait to meet him. There is the anticipation of finding out what he looks like, who he looks like. Each of the kids has had different color hair. Will he be a surprise red head or will he resemble one of the others? What hair Noah had was so blond that he looked bald. Eleanor was, and is, strawberry blond. Caleb's looked dark but is auburn, hints of red running through brown. Will he be long or short? Chubby or thin? Oh, the waiting.
I can't wait to enjoy my winter early mornings with him.

It Goes Both Ways

Recently I have been hearing about many marriages that are breaking up or separating or just listening to wives who are frustrated with their husbands. It makes me sad because I can't relate. I don't have a perfect marriage but I am pretty darn blessed. I am able to open my eyes in the morning, look over at Tim and wonder how it's possible to be more in love now than when we got married just over 8 years ago.
Then I realized something that really makes a difference in our marriage: we empathize with each other, not just sympathize, but really feel and relate to what the other is experiencing. For instance:
I got the kids settled with their lunches today. Before starting mine, I decided to clean up the mess on the counter I had made while making theirs, thinking about what time I should start dinner for tonight so that we could be done eating in enough time to get to Tim's soccer game. Then I realized I needed to switch the laundry over. While I wrestled carrying a load of laundry from the dryer to the bed, where I would need to think about folding it at some point today, Noah asked if I could get him more water. At this point, I thought about how I could have almost snapped. Here I am caring for my family's physical needs (eating), social calendar (soccer) and home management (laundry.) That's a lot to juggle all at the same moment in time. I can see why we women get overwhelmed!
I know husbands who still have the idea in their heads that the wife should be following the same format from the '50s, where dinner is ready when they get home, the kids are clean, the wife is showered and dressed to impress, and the house is spotless and quiet. Ha! Gone are those days, men. Accept it. Life is different 60 years later.
Thankfully, Tim gets this. What helped him was when he had to experience it for a few days last fall during my "busy season" of work, and he didn't even have to experience it to the max. All he had to do was be a stay-at-home dad for a few days, but I still planned out meals ahead of time - either in the crock pot or having a casserole ready to pop in the oven - dropped Noah off at school and planned for my work day on top of it. By the second day of experiencing a week in my shoes, he was begging to go to Meijer and run errands when I got home at the end of the day. He understood the importance of needing a break and needing to get out of the house for a couple hours!
But it goes both ways. I have also learned about Tim and his work. I realize that when he gets home, it doesn't help him if I start nagging as soon as he comes through the door. He is a painter and physically exhausted when he is done with the day. I really came to realize this when we started working on projects together and I would have to paint. My arms grew tired quickly! Then I realized he does it for 8-10 hours a day! Sometimes he's painting ceilings or sanding or staining or doing all sorts of different things. I have to put myself in his daily shoes to see what he's experiencing to appreciate what he does to provide for our family.
I wonder how many people do that. Maybe more wives need to experience what their husband is doing for them to appreciate it rather than growing jealous that he gets to "get out of the house" every day. Maybe more husbands need a couple days with the kids - without help from surrounding family - to appreciate their wives and loosen their expectations of what one can accomplish in a day.
I am thankful for my husband. So thankful. I love the home we have created and the path we are walking on through life. It's not always fun, but I know we'll try to relate to each other as we go through it together.

Another Bonus!

A bonus baby that is!
We are expecting a son (3 boys and 1 girl in our family- who would have ever thought!) in December.
We were a bit...shocked. Especially since we had just reached a decision that Tim would undergo "the procedure." I even played an April Fool's joke on my dad where I called and said, "Hey, Dad, you know how every time I run a 5K I end up pregnant?" (This happened when I found out I was pregnant with Caleb.) He laughed and I laughed and we wished each other a happy April Fool's Day.
The joke is always on me it seems.
3 days later, while we were on vacation, I got my purse calendar out to look at an upcoming date. That's when I counted.
And counted.
And counted again.
Then I asked Tim to go to Target and get me a test.
He did and within seconds there were 2 very clear lines.
After making it through the rest of our vacation, I came home and cried for a week straight. Oh, to feel such anger was beyond me. I struggled with emotions I had not deal with before, even when I found out I was pregnant with Caleb.
It felt like the opposite of the infertile couple's anger. Instead of, "Why, Lord, can others get pregnant but not me?" it became "Why, Lord, are you giving me another baby when there are people out there who really want one?"
Then God humbled me.
He always seems to do that well.
He spoke to me during my quiet time in the devotional I was reading. (Ever read Jesus Calling?
You should.) He reminded me that my plans are not His and that His are far better.
So I began to rest in His peace.
We are excited. Tim and the kids always were. Tim always adjusts quicker than me.
And a boy!
Goodness, we had a girl name picked out but couldn't settle on a boy's. We still can't! Although there are a couple front-runners finally.
Another bonus baby...

Blogging Hiatus Reason #1

Last summer I (kind of unknowingly) interviewed for a position I was interested in. I say "unknowingly" because I thought I was dropping off some bins and boxes to the program's executive director and ended up going inside her house (again, I thought to catch up on life real quick and ask a couple questions about the job) and found myself in a laid-back interview. Laid-back as in on her couch with me wearing holey-knee jeans. Yikes.
Moral of the story: Always look nice when going to important people's houses. Even if you think you're just dropping something off.
Soon after she called to offer me the position and I accepted it. For almost a year now I have been the Program Director for STATS (Straight Talk About Tough Stuff.) I had been volunteering as a team leader with this program for the 2 years prior. It is sponsored by a local hospital and what ends up happening is that 48 high school students are selected after an interview process. Those kids are split up into 6 teams of 8 (4 boys, 4 girls.) They come up with about an hour long presentation over the next few weeks using skits, songs, personal talks, etc. to present the message of abstinence from drugs, sex, alcohol and tobacco to the middle schools in Muskegon County. Each year we hit 12-13 middle schools and see 2,000+ kids.
The job is part-time and I am able to do the bulk of it from home. The fall (beginning of the school year especially) is my "busy season" as we are interviewing and selecting students, organizing teams, doing a full-day retreat and another mini-retreat and a ton of other things. I work in the morning for a couple hours, during the kids' nap time and, if needed, after they go to bed. You can see why this would take away from blogging time. However, my position is active during the school months and not summer, which gives me more time to do things I haven't had time to during the year. It also doesn't stop me from researching a bit or being aware of articles, documentaries, etc. and spending a bit of time here and there researching, but I don't feel the pressure as much now.
This program is something I am passionate about and you may (or may not) wonder why a program like this is important. If you have time, please read any of the following links:

The Underage Drinking Epidemic (Parade magazine article from 6/12/11)
Teen Marijuana Use on the Rise (Report from ABC World News 12/14/10)
Oral Sex is the New Goodnight Kiss (an alarming but necessary read for parents)
Tobacco Use Among Teens is Dangerously High (ABC News report)

It is more effective to have high school students talking to middle school students about these topics which is what makes this program important. I still continue to be shocked when I walk into a 7th-grade class to watch a presentation and see a pregnant girl sitting in the room. I am sad when I think about my young cousins, some underage, some newly-21 (but who have been drinking for a long time already) who are already alcoholics. Their Facebook statuses read over and over about being wasted or drinking or not being able to remember the events of the night before.
I think there are those in our society today who just don't think anything is going to work. Kids will be kids; they're dumb and naive; they don't stand a chance with their background; and on and on the excuses go. So they just turn a blind eye and tell themselves, while if they're going to drink or smoke or whatever, then I'll have them do it under my watch so that they're safe. Since they're going to sex, I'll just give them a condom or put them on birth control.
These kids are not safe.
They are young and they are a danger to themselves and those around them. Most teens who drink had their first taste of alcohol given to them by a family member.
I can't sit and do nothing when I have a voice.
So I will speak.

Peace

I am sitting outside tonight on the rocker bench my dad made me. My head is resting against a pillow that I covered with a cheerful fabric that I could stare at all day. We have returned from an open house and my belly is filled too much with good food to the point where I am regretting that last-minute helping of spinach artichoke dip. But it looked so good...and it tasted even better.
The Pandora app on my phone is filling the air with music from The Wailin' Jennys station and I close my eyes. After a cloudy rainy morning, the sun burst out this afternoon and its summer evening rays are falling on my face. They feel warm until the wind blows and then a chill gently bites down to my bones. It is as if the weather is temperamental tonight - hormonal, menopausal - to where you want to put on a sweatshirt one minute and take it back off the next.
I don't mind. As the wind blows, my spirit soars. My heart is filled with joy. I am rest-filled, God-filled, at this moment. Earlier I was going into an uncertain situation and on the drive there I prayed over and over for peace and a calm to come over my anxious heart and mind.
Peace was delivered.
God is good.
His Peace passes understanding.
I have faith that He provides it no matter what, but it is up to us to grasp it, to let go of our fears and insecurities and hold to Him for dear life.
He is faithful, even when we doubt.
I have learned this lesson from Him already and I was able to go into this evening truly believing He would bring me peace. Because He does not go back on His promises.
I have not blogged in 6 months. And before that, I blogged only a couple times in the few months. There are reasons for that. They are not for tonight, though. Thankfully, with the arrival of summer I will be able to finally release all the words that have been inside me. The thoughts and stories. The updates and pictures of our family.
Not tonight, though.
Tonight is to be thankful for His peace.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." -John 14:27

O Christmas Card, O Christmas Card...

One of the things I love about the Christmas season is going to my mailbox and finding something in it besides junk mail and bills - Christmas cards!! (Who doesn't love finding fun mail waiting for them?)
We're going to use Shutterfly this year for Christmas cards. I have used them in the past for birth announcements and Christmas cards and have never been disappointed. The quality is great and there are many options.
Originally, I was going to do photo cards for our family and also for my STATS students, but with battling pinkeye for as long as I have along with not having everyone healthy at one time to do a family photo...I think I'll be doing them for just my STATS students this year.
Because they are a fun group of kids, I want a Christmas card that reflects that, so I'm thinking along the lines of something like this:

or this:

Actually, the card above would be a great option if we decided to do a photo card using just pictures of the kids. By the way, since I haven't updated in a long time, here are some recent pictures of the kiddos:

Decisions, decisions...
Check out their other Christmas card options!
If you're looking for a fun gift for someone, you could always do a photo calendar.
I have always wanted to make one...maybe this will be my year.
Now to go make some choices!

Little Realizations

I finished feeding Caleb tonight and still found him to be quite fussy. He has been fighting a cold lately and I think may even be coming down with pinkeye, thanks to his older brother sharing it so generously with him. He fussed and cried as I started changing his diaper and, I'm not sure what compelled me to do this, but after taking off his clothes and leaving him in just his diaper, I held him up against me rather than continuing to change him. He seemed to calm down briefly before starting up again. The kangaroo care idea (skin-to-skin contact) came to mind and soon I was snuggled up against him with a blanket over the two of us for warmth.
Mere seconds after holding him against my skin, he had quieted down and just minutes later he was sound asleep in my arms. Tim was putting Noah and Eleanor to bed so I just stayed there with Caleb and began inspecting him.
The first thing I always notice is his hair. It is dark like mine and there is much of it but with a double-cowlick that points to Tim. I took the time to notice his little nose and ears and mouth with the bottom lip he likes to suck in. I began to think about how this little person is made up of mine and Tim's genes. We helped in creating this tiny body that was snuggled against mine! I know that this is obvious (hello, Biology class) but not very often do I really take the time to think about how amazing that thought is.
I traced my finger along the knuckles on his fingers and then on to the tiny folds in his wrist where his hand connects to his forearm. Smooth, soft and somewhat pudgy baby skin invited my finger to run its way up to his elbow and back down to his knuckles. I thought of how blessed I am and then a scary thought came to my mind.
I hadn't wanted him.
After Eleanor was born, Tim and I wanted to be done having kids. Two was good for us and we have our first baby in Heaven, so, actually, three was good for us.
Then God worked His plans which are usually so opposite of what we plan.
I remember my reaction to finding out I was pregnant again. The screaming and crying and fear that set the tone for a couple days until reality started to sink in is something I won't lie about, although I don't like that it was my reaction.
Then he was born and I remember how deeply and quickly I fell in love with this small bundle, this Caleb James. This love for him surpassed any fear I may have had about raising three children on earth.
I thought tonight about how full my arms felt there with him settled in to them and then started to think about the arms of other women.
The aching arms of the woman who desperately wants, but cannot have, a baby to find his or her home in them by way of her own body.
The lonely arms of the woman who chose the difficult route of adoption or abortion. The arms that feel as if they're missing what the womb had provided but not made the connection on.
The open arms of the woman who embraces a child not born of her body but into her love.
Then I realized that a couple thousand years ago there was a woman whose arms were also full as she cradled a tiny baby who came with a big purpose. I could hear music in our kitchen, the Christmas playlist shuffling around in albums to bring us a variety of songs. Interestingly enough, at that moment, the song "Mary, Did You Know?" started playing.
Did you know, Mary?
What was that night like? What thoughts went through her head as her tired arms wrapped themselves around Jesus - our Savior?
I can imagine that she would have first responded as any mother who has just given birth does - counting his tiny fingers and toes. Her hand gently smoothing over the top of his head as she took in how much or little hair he had. I wouldn't be surprised if her fingers traced the outline of his lips, his eyes and the bridge of his nose. The way she must have brought him close to her own nose to breath in his newborn scent.
I pondered all these things as I watched Caleb's mouth spit out his binky and work his lips into a pout before sucking in his lower lip and bringing it out again. His fingers stretched out against my skin and then curled in again to a little fist. From the kitchen I could hear "Silent Night" start to play.
I have heard people joke that the song isn't accurate - that it couldn't have been a silent night with the screams of childbirth, a baby's wail and the noises of surrounding animals in the stable.
In the time I was examining Caleb and marveling in the wonder of life, I also know that life was continuing around me. I could hear Noah upstairs in his room. I could hear Eleanor trying to fight bedtime. I could hear Tim lecturing both of them on how it was time for them to stay in their rooms and go to sleep. I could hear the music from the kitchen.
Yet as I looked at Caleb, there was also a silence. It was reminiscent of the first time parents see their child. There is activity all around them. Lights and people and sounds and doors and so much more. There seems to be a bubble around the small family, though. As the child's eyes lock into his parents', time stands still for a moment. Everything else fades away. There is a silence and awe.
A silent night, perhaps, as Mary locked eyes with Jesus.
I am far from a theologian but I am a mother. I cannot tell you all the facts and theories that surround the details of that night but I think I can relate, as a woman and mother, to how Mary must have felt that night as she cradled Jesus close to her for the first time. Her arms were full as she held the One Who adopts us into His family.
What a beautiful picture.
What a silent night.

Sticks and Stumps

I have been blessed to have many women in my life at different times. Some have come, developed close relationship and moved on with the different paths of life. Some were more temporary, some have been there since the awkward time of adolescence and have grown more distant as we have become older although they are still there. And some...well, some are like Sticks and Stumps.
When I arrived at Cornerstone University in the fall of 1999, I knew only two other people and they were both older than me and living in a different dorm. I had fun meeting new people and making friends and that is when I got to know Sticks and Stumps.
We were roommates the following year along with two other girls. We had some great times and I believe that's when the "Sticks" and "Stumps" nicknames were formed. It's also the year we each started dating the men who would become our husbands.
We haven't always been close. Sometimes life happens and gets busy.
Yet we always seem to find our way back to each other, which is where we are now again, yet this time is different. We're older, more mature...we're wives and moms. We're almost 30 - yikes! =)
There is a memory cemented in my mind that really demonstrates what wonderful friends they are. Tim and I miscarried our first pregnancy in September 2003. We went in for our 12-week appointment on a Thursday, only to find out there was no heartbeat and we had most likely lost the baby within the two weeks beforehand and my body had not realized it yet. Because my body was taking so long to start the process and we were leaving in a week to go to California for a conference, we chose to have a D & C. This way, while out in California, if I started miscarrying and had problems, I wouldn't be across the country from my doctor. The D & C was performed two days later, on Saturday morning.
My parents came that morning, our pastor and his wife stopped by in the afternoon, and then that evening Sticks and her husband brought us dinner. Stumps and her husband had been in town for something unrelated but stopped by as well. The six of us had dinner together and spent the rest of the evening visiting.
The best part was that they didn't expect anything of us. They didn't tell us how to grieve or give suggestions. They didn't make us talk about it or try to guide the conversation in any direction. They just let us guide them through the night.
By the time they all got to our house, Tim and I had cried enough tears over the previous two days to fill an ocean. We just wanted to laugh and enjoy our time with friends. We were exhausted and they were a breath of fresh air for us. Later that evening, in mine and Tim's timing, we did end up opening up about the experience and talking about it and there were more tears. It was a beautiful evening for us and it was what we needed.
In the six years since then, they both joined me in the painful experience of miscarrying their own pregnancies at some point. We also have gone on to have (almost) 8 children between us. We have developed a yearly "girls night/weekend" and it is a very cherished time. It usually goes quickly before we are back to the daily grind of taking care of our families, but it is enough time to recharge and encourage each other as we walk through this wife/mother journey together.
I love these girls dearly. No matter what other friendships I have developed over the years, these two have a very special place in my life. I know I can call them and they will be there for me. I know they will pray when they say they will, it's not just an empty phrase with them. I know we will celebrate joyous occasions together. I thank God for them.
There is a Sara Groves song from her album, "Fireflies and Songs" that speaks of friendship. When I first heard it, I thought of Sticks and Stumps.



As I said, I have been blessed with many different friends and I don't want to play favorites here but I think what sets these two apart is that we basically, in a sense, "grew up" together. We went from the awkward phase of the teenage years, entering college and figuring out what to do with life, to actually living life out together - not geographically, unfortunately, but through phone calls, emails, letters and cards, visits and through the bonds that have kept us close.
I love you, girls!! Thank you for blessing my life in many ways!

The Battle of Beauty

I battle many things:
My kids when they want their own way.
My husband when we don't see eye to eye.
My parents when they don't agree with our parenting.
The customer service rep who may be wrong when I'm trying to correct a situation or bill.
Those are not daily battles but occasional ones.
There is one battle that I do fight daily, though. Multiple times throughout the day, even. I hate warring with this person because I know her so well and am hardest on her.
Me.
Mainly, my reflection.
For years I have struggled with low self-esteem and image. In junior high I had thick eyebrows and noticeable upper lip hair. Thankfully, my mom became an aesthetician while I was in high school and I now have my eyebrows and upper lip waxed (I'm not ashamed to admit it anymore.)
In high school, I was tall and thin with horrible posture (still suffer the bad posture.) I had a body built like a boy's with no curves. I was so thin that I had to gain weight just to donate blood when I turned 18. I wasn't healthy or athletic; I just had genes that allowed me to eat what I wanted and not gain weight. I also was a busy person between school and work and extracurricular school activities.
Then I went to college and quickly (as in first semester) put on about 10 pounds. I didn't go to a party school, though, and it wasn't weight from alcohol. It was the freedom of finding I could eat whatever I wanted because Mom wasn't there. Pop-Tarts for a quick dinner in the dorm room? Oh, yeah. College cafeteria food? Bring it on with ranch dressing. Dessert for lunch and dinner? I'll take 2 of those chocolate chip cookies with some ice cream in the middle, thank you.
I lost most of the weight a few years later when I realized I was going to be walking down an aisle in front of lots of people in my dream dress. We went on a cruise for our honeymoon and I think it came back on during that week.
I can remember a friend commenting to me once, before I was even pregnant with Noah, about how I had a little roll that hadn't been there before. Maybe that's what really started drawing my attention to my self-image as my esteem rolled away. I thought, If I can't hide it with clothes, I must really be looking chunky.
The thing is, though, I love to eat. And I hate to exercise. This is a not-so-good combination as you can see.
It also doesn't help that I have a husband who loves me no matter what size I am and also admitted to me recently that he likes the fact I'm curvier now than before I had kids. Where's the motivation to lose weight when your love handles become lovable? (Please don't misunderstand, though, I would never want to suffer the emotional abuse some women suffer from their husbands because of weight gain.)
I, on the other hand, am hard on myself and don't love or even like the love handles. I can't accept that the pudge around the belly. Yet at the same time, I know that I'm not at an unhealthy weight. I'm still within the range for healthy for my height, it's just not the weight I want to be at.
Because for some reason there is something in me that just won't give it up.
Obviously, I know this comes down to be a sin issue. It is made up of so many components. Part of it comes down to self-discipline. Why eat 1 Milano cookie when you can eat 5 in the cute little paper holder they rest on in the bag? Or the whole bag?
I think food is an idol for me. Emotional eater? I am. Happy? Celebrate with food. Sad? Grieve with food. Frustrated? Clean the kitchen. OK, so I guess I'm not actually eating during that one. Although I wouldn't be surprised if I end up hungry after cleaning the kitchen. Where I should be going first to the Lord in prayer, I go to the cabinet.
I can even admit these things - so why is it so hard to change?
I have beautiful friends. I feel frumpy. (That could partly be due to lack of fashion sense, though.) Some are thin and willowy even after having multiple children. My sister-in-law is a stick. I try to tell myself it's because she runs more miles than I drive in a week. That part about the distance probably isn't entirely true, but she does run and exercise consistently. Naturally, that would help with weight loss and maintenance.
I have been so hard on myself that I was in tears, sobbing, recently after Tim commented to me that I looked beautiful that day. It was like a dam burst open and I just couldn't accept what he was saying even though it wasn't something he hadn't said before. I think it just hit me on a different note that day. Have you ever truly felt a war in your mind? At that moment I felt these two opposing forces smacking into each other and it was like truth was trying to break free and I wouldn't unlock the cage. That's when I really realized my problem was more serious than I wanted to accept.
We have a large oval mirror in the bathroom. I asked Tim if he minded if I wrote Scripture on it with a dry-erase marker, to which he, of course, agreed. Now when I look in the mirror I am greeted with Provers 31:30:

Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

You see, I don't want my motivation to exercise to be losing weight to fit a certain size. I want it to be a way for me to be healthy. That goes for wise food choices as well. If I feel like junk after eating certain sweets, then I should take that into consideration and not eat it again. If I feel good after eating something healthy, I need to remember that.
I always feel good after exercising. I hate when I am in the moment, but I love the adrenaline rush and energy that comes later. I love feeling like I accomplished something good for me.
I don't want to spend a long time in front of the bathroom mirror preparing myself for the day. And, honestly, I don't do that now. My routine, shower included, is about half an hour if that means I'm actually doing my hair and make-up. I don't wear much make-up beyond mascara, concealer and occasionally eye shadow so it doesn't take me long.
I want that reminder, though, when I stop in the bathroom, of where true beauty lies. I need that reminder. It's too easy for me to turn sideways in the mirror and suck in my gut to see what I could look like.
The other thing I have been surprised, pleasantly, with is that the kids always ask us what the writing on the mirror says when we are in there with them brushing our teeth or washing hands or giving them baths. So Tim and I read it to them repeatedly every day to the point where I think Noah is starting to memorize it. I realized that this is something important for them to hear, especially Ellie, who - as a girl who will grow into a woman - will probably struggle with herself one day. If she is getting this reminded to her starting at the age of 2 years old, maybe she'll be more confident in herself at twelve or twenty-two or thirty than I am. It also can be a lesson for Noah on what to look for one day in a future wife.
I fight my battle every day. However, I have found my Sword and am starting to pick at the lock on the cage to set the beauty truth free.

Catch Up!

I cannot even believe how quickly this summer is going by. It may as well be the end of August.
I am trying to play catch up with lots of things - my last load of laundry is in the washing machine - I actually have an empty laundry hamper (at least until Tim gets home from work!) I am blogging for the first time in what feels like forever. I finally ordered Caleb's birth announcements today. In my defense on that one, there were 2 great photo card deals going on from 2 different websites so I was able to get all the announcements for free (besides shipping and handling.) So I could just say that I was waiting for a deal to come along...but in reality I just didn't do it until now. Oh, well, so he's 3 1/2 months old. People are going to get an updated photo on their card.
Anyways, our summer has been enjoyable. Tim built this on Memorial Day:

We were introduced to a website called Knock-Off Wood and have a line of projects we would love to make. It's an awesome site. Seriously, check it out. Anyways, a perk to him being a painter is that when he is working on a new construction home, he can do a bit of "dumpster diving" or just nicely ask the carpenters for scrap wood. That's what he did here and he scored some beautiful African Teak. It turned out to be a free project! The kids are loving it and it helps for when another family is over and we are able to have more seating room.
The garden also was a Memorial Day project. Earlier this week we were able to enjoy the first of what has come in - peas, green beans and a few cherry tomatoes.

We have only been to our little beach once so far but have plans to go again soon and are looking forward to that.
We had a really fun family day last month. It was one of those days that, as a mom, you need in order to be able to make all the rough days worth it. Tim was working at a job site almost 2 hours away and so during the week he would work 3 really long days where the kids wouldn't see him at all and then take 2 days off completely. On one of those off days we didn't have or make any plans and just kind of did whatever came up. The morning started with a yummy breakfast and then mid-morning I went for a run. On my way back it became much warmer than when I first started and I was praying that someone would have a lawn sprinkler turned on and aiming at the sidewalk. Little did I know the house with the sprinkler would be my own! Featuring not so much a lawn sprinkler, but a Go! Diego Go! one in the front yard with this delightful scene taking place:
The kids had such a blast, as did Tim and I, running through it.
Isn't he a handsome little man? All set to go in to the Young-5 program this year. We're definitely holding off on kindergarten until next year. I can't believe how much they expect from the kids in kindergarten!
The day ended like this:
I think what made it so memorable for us is that it was relaxing, we were all together and, quite possibly for the first time ever, no one fought with each other.
We went camping over Father's Day weekend. Our church did a Family Camp Weekend at Kibby Creek Campground near Ludington. I'm so thankful it wasn't far from home because we got up there, set up our tent, went to change the kids into their swimsuits and realized the suitcase with all the kids' clothes in it was at home still! So back home Caleb and I went to retrieve it. That night was a complete disaster between being extremely cold and only having a sheet (thankfully, we had blankets shared with us the second night) and Ellie's night terrors (which she gets when she's overtired and, naturally, she didn't nap in a tent.) One of the days we were up there we went in to Ludington with another couple and walked the pier. When we got home Sunday, we had lunch, took naps and then Tim wanted to go Miniature golfing and to Logan's for his Father's Day dinner.

Ellie loves playing dress up. For her birthday, our friends Justin and Carrie got her a fun little set with all sorts of girlie stuff. She loves it.

Whenever she dresses up, Noah feels the need to put on his armor.

Tim and I took Noah to see his first movie theater movie. We saw "Toy Story 3." He thought it was great, though a bit scary at the end. He ended up in Tim's lap, but didn't scream like the poor boy in front of us and some of the kids around us. We stayed the weekend at my parent's house so they could watch Ellie and Caleb while we went and then we could spend the rest of the weekend visiting them. While we were there, they found a jeep at a garage sale. The kids are enjoying it when we stop there.


We took a vacation last week. We started off in Ohio for the 4th of July weekend.

Caleb's first time meeting Papa Ross as well as his first fireworks.
We then traveled to Tennessee to visit Tim's sister and her family. Our old baby-sitters, Megan and Jenny, are working at the Christian camp down there, Doe River Gorge, this summer and we had a lot of opportunities to visit with them. We loved seeing them, it was like a bonus added on to an already great trip! My sister-in-law and her husband have bought some beautiful property that they want to farm and build a house on and they took us out to see it one night. It was breathtaking!! I was pretty much ready to pack my bags and move down there.
It was a great vacation, although by the end of it the kids felt like this:
Two days of driving to get somewhere will do that to you.

Caleb continues to grow quicker than we can keep up with. He has managed to just fit right into our family and we are continually amazed by him. He sleeps through the night, nursing is going great, he is the most laid-back of all our kids and he smiles and laughs non-stop!
Except for maybe an occasional serious face.

And right now he's obsessed with putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking his lower lip in.

How's that for an exhausting catch up?? For those of you who stayed through this - thanks!!
If you want something else to read now, click on the links on the side for our friends Jeana and Matt. They're moving to Rwanda on August 2nd! While we will miss them, we're so excited for them!

Listening to...

Wow, it's been a month since I've blogged! I have many things in my head I want to empty out on here and pictures to show off of our kiddos, but today is not going to be that day. Instead, I just wanted to share some of the albums getting the most play in our house. The iPod probably wants to play something different but for now we are digging these. Check them out!
For Mother's Day Tim bought me JJ Heller's CD, "Painted Red." You may have heard this song:



The entire CD is great, but there are a couple songs that really get me. This being one:



Deas Vail is a newer group. Their sound reminds us a little of Death Cab for Cutie. We are enjoying their CD, "Birds & Cages" very much.





Tim can't stop listening to Owl City's album "Ocean Eyes." The kids and I just bought it for him for Father's Day. This is the kids' favorite song to sing and dance to:



I like this one:



For our anniversary, Tim surprised me with "Crazy Love" - Michael Buble's newer one. You may have heard this one on the radio:



But I LOVE this one. It sounds so James Bond theme-ish!



And lastly, but certainly with no less play time than the rest, is Relient K's newer one, "Forget and Not Slow Down." Tim and I are in agreement that this is our favorite Relient K album. And, you may (or may not) have noticed that 2 of the songs above - one of Deas Vail's and one of Owl City's - feature Relient K's lead singer, Matt Thiessen. He seems to be popping up on a lot of albums lately!





Anyone else have music to suggest?