How Do You Spell "First Day of Homeschool?"

Let me answer that title question for you:

D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R

Disaster.
We decided to start on Labor Day.  Tim was home, we had no plans, the kids kept asking how much longer until we start, so I thought, Hey, why not?  It's as good a time as any.
I started to freak out as we went downstairs.  Caleb was a mess.  Zeke was a mess.  Tim was locking himself in bathrooms to clean them for me, good husband that he is.  Noah compared everything we did to how he did things in the public school.  Ellie wanted to learn but was distracted by her crying brothers.
Almost an hour later we moved outside for a change or scenery.
A half hour later, I was holding Zeke outside the bathroom, crying (me, not Zeke) and telling Tim that I was going to quit.
Noah was outside, crying, after asking if he could go back to "real school" the next day.
Ellie, soft heart that she has hidden under all that stubbornness, wrapped her arms around me to comfort me.  She really is a blessing and I am reminded of that in unexpected moments.
Thank God Tim had the day off because he took over the kids for the rest of the afternoon.  I, however, opened the blog, Confessions of a Homeschooler, and remained on there for the following five hours.  I nailed down our problem pretty quickly.
One of the beautiful things about homeschooling is that you can tailor it to your family's needs.  I had been told by many families to not have any expectations and to be flexible.  I took it a bit too literally and went in pretty much unprepared, thinking I could just open the books and follow the directions. 
This may work for some families, but I found out quickly it does not work for ours.  I like routine and schedules, my kids do as well.  We are flexible and we love a lazy day where plans pop up along the way, but during the week we like to know what's going on.  The more I read the Confessions website, the more ideas I came across, and the more I accomplished, especially the idea of Work Boxes.  Since I don't have boxes, though, we use Work Folders and this is the favorite part of the kids' day.  They LOVE them!

Enter Day 2:
How do you spell the second day of homeschool?

S-U-C-C-E-S-S

Success.  Halfway through the morning, Noah made the comment, "Hey, I think I really like homeschooling."

 Using play-dough to try to create Adam and Eve.  We had to remember to "remove" Adam's rib to craft Eve out of it.

Me, too, Noah.  Me, too.

"Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever.  Amen."  -Ephesians 3: 20-21

Running Away

I remember when I was young and tried to run away, around 6 or 7 years old.  I told my mom as I left the house that I was going to live with my grandparents and was walking there (in reality, they lived less than 10 minutes away.)  I made it almost to the end of our driveway when my mom called, "What will you do about the dogs?"
Dogs?
"The mean dogs you find along the way.  How will you protect yourself?"
And with that I changed my mind and decided it wouldn't be too bad to continue living at home.

Today I got to experience the other side of the situation, as the mom. 
We have had a big week with starting to homeschool, writing out house rules, and introducing a chore chart along with discipline cards. This morning was going well until Noah came in contact with a discipline card, the first one to be used.  Actually, two cards because he broke a rule twice.  He drew the cards for "Wipe light switches" and "Wash dinner dishes."  Ellie, who loves to clean (I may have to come up with different discipline cards for her!), was intrigued by this.
"I want a discipline card," she said.
"No, Ellie.  You don't just get one." I told her.
"Well, fine," she answered back, the sassy tone creeping in.  "Then I will not do my schoolwork today." Now, I knew two things: (1) She was acting this way in the hopes of getting a discipline card and (2):
"Ellie, you already finished all your schoolwork."
"Fine.  Then I will NOT listen to Noah read the story," she tried back.
"You don't have to.  It's part of Noah's school work to read to me, not yours."

A short time later she announced:
"I guess you will just have three boys because I am not going to be your girl anymore."
"Is that so?" I asked her.  "Whose girl are you going to be?"
"I will go to another family."
"Oh, really.  Whose?"
"Ummm.....Leighton and Maddie's" she spoke triumphantly.
"Maddie is only 10.  She's not old enough to have a little girl," I countered back.
"Well, then I'll be Jen's girl." (Jen is one of my dearest friends, and Maddie and Leighton's mom.)
I called Jen and told her Ellie did not want to be part of our family anymore but would like to join theirs. 
Jen laughed and said, "Fine, but tell her our rules are the same as yours."
I relayed the message and Ellie went upstairs, I thought, in defeat.

A short time later she came outside, overstuffed backpack not dragging her down and announced she was ready.  After a quick check in her backpack to find winter pajamas, long sleeve shirts, shorts, and undies, I asked her how she was going to get to Jen's.
"You can drive me."
"No."
"Jen can come get me."
"She wants gas money."
"I have money in my piggybank.  Actually, I will drive myself."
Enter the voice of lawfulness (Noah): "Ellie, if you drive yourself, then you will get pulled over by the police and you will get a ticket and thrown in jail!"
"Fine," the fight not weakening in my stubborn 4 year-old.  "I will walk."
"Eleanor," I told her.  "It takes us almost 45 minutes to drive to Jen's house.  Do you really think you can walk that far?  You're not even wearing shoes!"
She sulked off into the house.

I found her inside, putting her shoes on.  Noah was wiping light switches at this point.  I put Zeke down with some toys.  I was in the kitchen, the gate up and blocking the way to the side stairs and door, when Noah announced that Ellie and Caleb had gone out the back door and were headed through the gate to the driveway.  I somewhat hurdled over the gate, opened the side door, and grabbed Caleb, swinging him over to the other side of the gate.  Ellie looked at me and walked on. 
I grabbed the camera.

I know, I know.  Some moms might think that was a horrible thing to do.  I, however, knew she wouldn't follow through with running away. I wasn't going to let her run away.  But I sure was going to document the process so that one day, when she has the daughter just like her that I've threatened her with, and she calls me and is all up in arms about what to do with that daughter, I am going to pull out those pictures and share these stories.
Because I choose to believe that she will be able to outgrow this stubborn and difficult behavior and mature into a lovely, godly, young woman some day.  (Please, Lord, let that day be soon.)
And that lovely, godly, young woman might need to learn one day why her mother's hair turned gray so early on in years.

I stood in the front door, unseen by her for a little bit, as she walked to the end of the driveway and turned right down the sidewalk. 

The door opened behind me and Noah, tears streaming down his face, pleaded at me, "MOM!  She can't run away.  You can't let her run away!" I reassured him that no such thing was going to happen but that she had to try this, learn her lesson.

She made it to our neighbor's driveway, stopped, contemplated, and turned back.

She walked home.

And then kept right on walking past our driveway.

She stopped right past it, looked at me, and announced she was headed in that direction. 
I took her picture.

Then Caleb pushed past Noah at the door and took off running after her.  Which made Ellie shriek with laughter and run down the sidewalk, her little brother chasing her.  I passed the camera off to Noah and took off after both of them.  I snatched Caleb up - again - and told Ellie, maintaining a calm and quiet voice so the neighbors couldn't hear through their open windows, "Get inside the house now or you will be going to take a nap without eating lunch first."

She came home, much to the delight of her brothers.

And mother.

Our Second Home

"At the Sea-side"

By Robert Louis Stevenson

 

When I was down beside the sea,

A wooden spade they gave to me

To dig the sandy shore.

My holes were empty like a cup. 

In every hole the sea came up, 

Til it could come no more.

 

Saying Goodbye to Summer With Food

                                                                             A late dinner and some candlelight

                                                                                          A little surf and turf

                                                                                 A goodbye-to-summer dinner

                                With good friends and a Jimmy Buffet Pandora station for background music

 

                                                   And a break from speed Scrabble to enjoy creme brulee


                                                                                       Good-bye summer. 

Our Next Step

"If a child can't learn the way we teach, maybe we should teach the way they learn." -Ignacio Estrada

"I could never homeschool."  -Me

 In this previous post I mentioned that there was a step 3 our family is taking.  After Ezekiel was born, not long after the New Year, I felt something creeping up inside me.  It was this desire to start on a homeschooling path with the kids.  I knew this idea could not be of my own making because I have always had the opinion of my own personal quote above. 
Homeschool?  Are you kidding me??  I can't wait to send my kids to school!  All of them!  Take them now and let me have my independence and quiet and a whole day to read a book if I want to!  I couldn't be around all my kids all day for the rest of the time they're at home.  I'm not qualified to teach them.  I didn't study education in school!  Who am I to teach my own kids??
Wait, what?
Yet somehow this homeschool idea kept creeping in on me.  So began the mental and emotional struggle. I had to spring the idea onto Tim. Many prayers were sent up. We spent months talking to other families who educate their children at home or who were themselves educated by their parents.  The decision was not entered into lightly.  After all, I also had to overcome this feeling that I was going to mess up my kids by not sending them to off to school.
Here are factors that helped us reach our decision:

*We are realizing how fast life is speeding by.  It sounds, oh-so-cliche, but if you have kids, I'm sure you feel it, too.  With each child we've welcomed into life, we've also been surprised by how quickly their first birthday seems to come upon us.  Noah was only in half-day kindergarten last year and it felt like we had so little time together.  There was already homework every night.  And we weren't even into full day school or sports or after-school activities!  Are we going to be sending him off to college at 18 realizing that the majority of the hours of his day were spent away from us already?  Are we going to wish we had more time training him ourselves?

*We aren't a lazy family by any means and our kids recognize the importance of being somewhere on time, but I am not a fan of our lives being controlled by the school system.  Drop them off at this time, pick them up now, this is when your Christmas break is, Spring Break, summer vacation, here are some random days off while our teachers are in-service or just because.  Tim is self-employed and contracted by someone so he has the flexibility of time off when he needs/wants it.  We could take a vacation during off-peak travel times and not have to worry about school absences, missed schoolwork, etc. 

*I love that we can make their education bigger than it is within the walls of a school.  Our field trips can be as small as the zoo or museum, or as big as a trip to DC, Gettysburg, Niagara Falls, etc.  We are going to use the Charlotte Mason style of teaching, which is big on "living books" - not just dry textbooks, but books that come alive for the kids.  I also like that there are people in our life who can become part of their education, and we have people who are excited about this as well, already asking if they can teach them certain topics.  The whole "It takes a village" mentality is taking on a different form.

*This isn't about sheltering our kids.  We're in a great school system and I plan on taking this one year at a time.  If, for some reason, we feel homeschooling is not the best option for our kids, then at least we don't have a problem putting them back in the school district that we live in.  We're not worried about their social lives either.  They have neighbor kids, cousins their age, friends from church, friends that are the children of our friends, and are going to be involved with upcoming things this year - Ellie in gymnastics and beginning piano lessons and Noah in soccer.  I want my kids to learn about different subjects, things like world religions - but I want it to be taught by Tim and myself, not a teacher who may put our faith on the same level as the others.

*The quote at the very top is another big reason for our decision.  Our kids have different learning styles.  All kids do.  You put 20+ kids with multiple learning styles in a classroom with 1 teacher and you can't expect that teacher to teach each kid in the learning style that is best for them.  We will be able to tailor our teaching to their learning style.  Noah has a little engineer mind, he is crazy for Legos and anything that he can create and build with.  He loves math and directions.  Ellie is a free spirit.  She is creative, artsy and flowing.  She likes to move while learning.  If she needs to do jumping jacks or run around the room between answering questions, then she can have the freedom to do that.  I don't want her to be labeled as a distraction or ADD or ADHD just because she needs some wiggle room.

*The other thing that weighs heavily on me is that, if God gave us these kids to care for, teach, and train up during their time on earth, then why am I so quick to want to send them off to have someone else do those things in my place?  If a child can complete most of their studies in less than 4 hours at home, why are they in school all day?  When I told one of my friends I was going to homeschool, she asked if I had the desire to work outside the home, and how was I going to do that if they weren't in school?  But the things is - I don't.  I have zero desire in me whatsoever to work outside the home right now or at any point, really.  What I really want to do is write and I can do that anywhere and anytime that I am able.  I want to volunteer with different causes at some point, but I don't want to hold an office job or the like.  And, like my friend, Lacey, said (summarized) - when all my kids are in school, I would probably sit at home on my behind eating chocolate and being lazy.  I'm not going to lie, there are days that idea sounds really appealing! 

So that is our big step we're taking.  Thankfully, we have friends and family who homeschool their children and have already been a wonderful support system as we start this journey.  There are also multiple families we know who are also getting started homeschooling, so we don't feel as scared or inadequate since we're all in the same boat. 

Am I nervous?  Terrified! 
Am I excited? Absolutely!

I nailed down the different curriculum books I want to use for this coming year and had butterflies in my stomach earlier today just from reading over the descriptions and with the excitement of finalizing the decisions.
And, thankfully, I have the assurance that I don't have the strength to do this - but God does.  That there are going to be days I heavily rely on His patience, guidance, and strength to get our family through the day.  But, really, isn't every day of parenting like that already?  This is not a decision for everyone, but it's the decision we've made in our family's best interest. 

We owe a huge thank you to people who have helped us - not by telling us what decision to make - but by offering advice, wisdom, listening ears, and experience.  You all know who you are. =)
 

"Get Noah!"

Our friends, the Nashes, are missionaries in Rwanda with the organization City of Joy.  They are back here for the next couple of months and tonight they are staying at our house.  We have been so excited to see them and spend time together since it's been a year and that visit was a very short one.  Our playroom doubles as our guest room so after Noah's swim lesson this morning, we came home and got to work on picking up toys and cleaning the room.
Now, I don't know what you wear when you clean, but I'll just say right now that today I was wearing yoga pants, a t-shirt and had taken off my bra.  I use the reasoning of the connection between bra-wearing and breast cancer to justify my freedom while at home without company.  Anyways, rabbit trailing, but important information you'll need to know for later.
So.  The toys are finally picked up and I have just sent the kids off to place elsewhere because who wants kids in a room that was just organized?  I also have to vacuum still.  We have a Rainbow Vacuum that we bought after Noah was born.  The thing cleans amazingly well and is great for those with allergies and asthma but it's a beast because it's a big, heavy bagless canister (the only downside to it) that uses water.  After you have vacuumed, you dump out the water and are embarrassed/rewarded by seeing all the nasty junk you just cleaned off a floor you thought was maybe kind of decent at least.
I went out the door to the backyard and to the place I dump the dirty water.  As I try to open the door to go back inside, I realize it's locked.  Not the lock on the handle, the dead bolt.  I hear a little noise and look down to see a mop of brown hair trying to turn the door handle.  It looks up at me.  "Mama?"
"Caleb!"  I shout so he can hear me.  "Unlock the door!"
Well, somehow those hands were able to turn and lock the deadbolt but aren't strong enough to turn and unlock it.  And he's trying.  It's just not happening. I need a new tactic.
"Caleb!" I shout again.  "Go get Noah!"
He stares at me.
"Go get Ellie!" I try again.
I can hear him say in his adorable and excited tone, "Eh-ya-ya?" (That's how he has always said his name and now it sticks for him, no thanks to Ellie, who refers to herself as Eh-ya-ya when talking to him. 'I'm over here, Caleb.  Eh-ya-ya is in the living room.')
He turns to run off and then stops a few feet away to look back at me.
"That's it!" I yell.  "Go get Ellie!  Get Noah!"
Now, yes, there is a spare key hidden somewhere.  And, yes, I could have probably found it, but it only opens the front door and this is where that tidbit of information from earlier comes in - I have no bra on.  And I have nosy neighbors of elderly age.
Instead of continuing to run off, he runs back with a big smile on his face.  I see him run back in to the laundry room, past the door and then he comes back a moment later with a laundry basket.  He turns it upside down to climb on top of it.  To see me better so we can talk.  Through the glass on the door.
"Eh-ya-ya?" he asks.
"GO GET ELLIE!  GO GET NOAH!"
Instead he starts to fiddle around more with the deadbolt and jabber to me in his own little speech-impaired toddler language.
I hear a click.
I try the door.
It's open!
I slowly open it a few inches while encouraging Caleb to get off the basket and out of my way so I can come in without trampling him. As he runs off, happy to have helped Mom (although he got me into the predicament in the first place) I notice he's not wearing pants.
Life has never been dull since having children.

I've Got the Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy...or do I?

Back in November, Tim's grandma passed away.  We dropped off the kids at my parents' house and, at 37 weeks pregnant, drove to Virginia to attend the funeral.  She was Tim's last living grandparent, the one we named our Eleanor after, and a wonderful and godly woman.  We are thankful for the trips we made in the last few years to visit her and give the kids the opportunity to meet her, whether they remember it one day or not. 
It was a long road trip for such a short amount of time (spending an afternoon driving to Ohio, staying the night and waking up early to hustle it to Virginia for the funeral and family visiting, and waking up early the next morning to book it back to Michigan.)  However, it gave Tim and I a wonderful amount of time to spend talking with no interruptions and the ability to really hear each other.  During the week leading up to our unexpected trip, we had started going over questions from a post a pastor had put on his blog (found through Pinterest.)
There are 50 questions and they start out pretty basic and work their way up (or down, if we're talking depth here.)  A question came up, I can't remember which or the way it was worded, and I hesitated before asking it to Tim.  I knew in my heart the answer and was scared his would be the same and I would be...caught, if you will.  Found out.  I may be forced to face an issue I didn't want to talk about.  I asked the question.
And waited while he hesitated.  I could see him weighing in his mind how to form an answer and I knew, I just knew, what he was going to say.
"I know you love our kids," he said and then paused again before carefully weighing his words.  "But I wonder sometimes if you really like them.  You know, if they're just something else or more in your life."
That's when I started to cry.
And when I had to face reality.
Because no matter how hard you try to hide some things, it just doesn't work.  Tim can see right through me. It's one of the things that makes us such a good pair: we know each other even when we think we're hiding our emotions or true thoughts from the other.  And we're committed enough to call each other out, even if it's hard, because we know the importance of working it out.
So I finally laid bare the emotions, thoughts and struggles that I had been keeping to myself. 
I told him how I was having a hard time reconciling reality to the way I thought life was going to be.  I only wanted 2 kids - I was at that time pregnant with my fourth.  I thought at that point we would be done with diapers, teething, sleepless nights.  We would be able to take family vacations that weren't so limited by age, strollers, and swim diapers.  I could go to the grocery store with 2 children able to responsibly walk beside the cart instead of having to ride in it or get the cart with the bench that sits 2 kids, along with the child riding in the seat of the cart.  I thought we could go to the beach without having to worry about who was eating sand.  I thought I would have more time for me.
I told Tim I was having trouble finding joy in my life. I would listen to all these people talk about how wonderful my kids are, how well behaved and respectful and kind and on and on and on.  I would smile and nod my head and think, what's wrong with me??
I pretty much verbally vomited on him.
He's amazing, my husband.  He listened and we talked about it.  After the funeral, I talked to my sister-in-law about it and she gave wonderful counsel.  (Check out her blog here.  She has a passion for women seeking Truth.) 
It was almost as if getting all that out was like a deep cleansing of my soul.  I felt better voicing it, like I was able to conquer lies because I had put name and voice to my fears and struggles.  I felt new.
Then Ezekiel was born.  I was shocked at how deeply and quickly I fell in love with him.  It almost scared me, really.  With the other ones it seemed like it took a bit to feel that connection but the moment I saw him and made eye contact, I was a goner. 
And I knew.
I knew that some choices Tim and I had made in the van driving back from Virginia were the right choices.  I had decided to finish out my job with the school year.  I loved the people I was working with and the program I was working for.  I was working part time, from home, and it was harder than I thought to do that.  It was competing with my kids for my time and often I was choosing work over them.  I was taking frustrations out on my family that they didn't deserve.
Step one was going to be choosing to live joyfully.  I had a hunger to find joy in every day.  This can be done with a thankful heart.  After making this decision, I started reading One Thousand Gifts and it was as if God was affirming what I had just been through and what I could hear Him telling me. If you haven't read the book, you really should. 
Step two was going to be finishing out my job and leaving.  My kids needed more than my leftovers.  They needed a mom who is actively in their lives.  I was physically present and mentally absent. 
Step three...well, that's for another day and another post as it is a long one. 


"Joy is the serious business of heaven."  -C.S. Lewis

Lord, thank you for my children - ALL of them.  Help me to appreciate and find joy in the chaos of each day.  Amen.

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.