Two Foot Bologna and Wolf Ears

February 3, 2015 / amylynw / Leave a comment

Yesterday morning started off relaxed and chill. Some kids listening to a story in one room, someone else slowly savoring their bowl of cereal. I still meandered around in my sweat pants and two-day-old shirt, after having ignoring the little voice that told me I should get dressed immediately upon rising. All of a sudden I got a panicky feeling that I was supposed to be somewhere. I texted my friend to ask her if the kids had science class today. I had checked the schedule, but must have read it wrong. Yes, science class began five minutes ago. I jammed on my boots, didn’t even tie them, shrugged on another layer over my limp shirt, and shoved a hat on my morning hair. Betty, who was in the middle of being a ballerina, put a coat over her stockings and leotard, and off we went. It was harrowing. Amazingly, they were only twenty minutes late for class. Wearing my junky clothes (okay, pajamas) I still had to fetch a lunch for my poor students, so I ran to the nearest grocery store. Somehow, in 15 minutes we managed to use a two-foot-long piece of bologna to whip other siblings in the meat department and we also were able to tip the cart on top of ourselves just before the checkout line. We, meaning, those of us under the age of thirty-four. The worst part of the morning was in the parking lot. Just before our van, Elsie ran ahead of me by a few feet and as I called for her to stop, my voice quickly changed into a scream as an SUV pulled forward from behind another parked car and came within one foot of hitting her. Praise the Lord for protecting us! Praise Him too for fresh beginnings and new days.

January came and went, leaving a few fun memories behind in its wake. Matthew and I celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary.

As a belated gift, I surprised him with going to see Les Misérables at a local theatre. 2015-01-16 23.53.51

We were gifted with the treat of going to Great Wolf Lodge in the Pocono’s with our family and some of Matt’s co-workers. It was a super-fun memory with the kids. Sadly, Elsie got pretty sick for half of our time there, so I bonded with our hotel room more than the indoor pool area.

This girl right here turned four. She multi-tasks like a natural woman, and makes us laugh so much.
What’s not to love about a girl who burps, giggles, then says, “Some girls have some burps.” Or someone who plays in the snow and says, “My feet are soaking, soaking cold!” Or calls firecrackers, “firecrackles”. Sometimes when I overhear her and Elsie playing together I get such a kick out of what they say. Once Betty exclaimed enthusiastically, “Hi! You can call me Aunt Vicky!” I have no idea where that came from, and I laughed so hard. Some mornings I get woken up with this:
A little baby wolf with big brown eyes. “Can you come downstairs with me?”

Sometimes I wish she would stay bitty forever, but I do love watching her grow.

Today Matthew is having his second infusion of Rituxan. He has no side effects from it, but he also hasn’t felt any better yet. The big kids had a computer class last month, so Elsie and I enjoyed some one-on-one time. The kids have also been having a blast each week at a winter class at Black Rock. Jack has been wrestling like a champ. We went back to Matthew’s highschool in Philly and watched his old teammate coach the current team to Public League Champions. It was very nostalgic watching those boys wrestle, just like I used to watch Matthew wrestle many moons ago.

There is much more to say, but time to dive into February and all it holds. Without the two-foot bologna.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year (In A Nutshell)

December 30, 2014December 30, 2014 / amylynw / 2 Comments

The past month has been epic. I forgot my camera for the first big event, but snagged a few of my sisters’ photos. My brother-in-law planned a fabulous surprise birthday for my oldest sister. The day before, my brother hatched a plan to fly up here for a couple of hours to surprise her. It worked. I picked him, my nephew, and niece up from the local airport an hour before the party started. I felt like a little girl, back in the middle of Africa, waiting for him and my sister to fly home from boarding school. My other sister and I would listen for the sound of the small Cessna flying in from where they went to school. First a distant hum, then louder until we could see the plane circling over our station. This was slightly different, since he was the actual pilot this time, and his son was texting me from the airplane. But those distant memories were stirred from the corners of my brain, and I actually jumped up and down and screamed just like I did when I was Betty’s age. From our house, I heard the airplane and saw it coming in for landing. We raced to the van to drive the mile to the airport to pick them up and head over to the surprise party.
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Here we are, youngest to oldest. It was such a treat to be together, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

My nephews, the oldest and youngest of my parent’s 18 grand-kids, spanning 18 years apart. So precious.
A few weeks ago, the kids and I took a secret drive to Valley Forge for a Christmas photo shoot. I was excited at the forecast of snow flurries that day, and was imagining their white little selves falling on our noses and eyelashes in picture perfect clarity. What really happened was a lot of this:
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Also a lot of shivering and red noses. DSC_6083-2
Eventually we came up with a winner, where everyone was looking, no one was doing peace signs behind anyone’s back, no one was saying, “I’m freezing!” and no one was sticking out their tongue.
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Although, they’re all pretty fun. We did one more shoot outside because the flurries were starting. Everyone sat down and this happened:
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But then this happened, which is pretty sweet. DSC_6149-2
Oh, and the flurries stopped once they sat down. Go figure. DSC_6147-2
This month there has been a lot of this as well:
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The Sunday before Christmas there was another attempted photo shoot of the kids. This one turned out great.

The rest pretty much followed this pattern:
Christmas Eve was spent at the Weldon’s house with family. After many attempts at getting a picture with Matthew, 99% of them being blurry, like this:
One finally turned out crisp and clear.

Our yearly tradition of Santa coming to town was a success. All of our kids know it’s really Uncle Jon, but they still play along for the most part.
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Christmas was a lovely day here at home. We didn’t have to be anywhere and spent the day at home by ourselves for the first time ever. We had monkey bread for breakfast, but I pretty much left my camera on the shelf for the rest of the day.
I have some treasured memories of squeals and hugs by appreciative hearts. It was a beautiful day. That evening for supper Matthew’s parents, sister and brother, and my parents came for dinner.
We enjoyed a fun evening together and the Weldons spent the night.
The next day we went rock climbing. This girl right here is a natural. The boots. The green tights. The pony-tail. I couldn’t stop smiling.

All the girls were smoking it to the top over and over.
The next day was interesting. We went to Jack’s wrestling tournament. We had expectations of hanging out together for a few hours in the afternoon, cheering him on, then getting home in plenty of time for supper. We can laugh now, but we weren’t laughing then. I had thoughts like this going through my head: “It won’t be long,” he said. “It’ll be fun,” he said. Looking back, it was fun. The kids brought their walkie-talkies, and were able to get lots of fresh air, running around outside and testing them out while we waited for 130 matches until Jack’s first match. The worst part of the day was right before Jack went onto the mat for the last time. I glanced around and couldn’t see Betty anywhere. I got a sickening feeling in my stomach as I looked all around the people-filled gym. We had just walked from another mat to this one, and somewhere along the way, Betty got lost in the shuffle. Jack was up to wrestle. I didn’t want to panic in front of him and mess up his concentration. I grabbed one of the walkie-talkies while Elijah and Nadine grabbed two more and we set off to find her. All in all, it was about five minutes total before I walked down the hallway and saw her huddled behind the door to the gym. She had her little stuffed puppy and was crying. I scooped her up, emotions spilling out of every pore. Jack was wrestling by then, and I just held her and we cried happy tears while we yelled encouragements to Jack. My entire body was shaking. I praise the Lord for watching over Betty. We figured that as we walked to the mat and stopped, she must have kept walking until she got to the hall and didn’t see us anymore. I told her what a good girl she was to stop and wait for me to find her. It was a long day that started and ended about three hours later than we expected. Jack won his matches and got a first place trophy. His eyes said it all:
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After getting to bed close to midnight, our plans for the next day somewhat unraveled. We were supposed to leave at ten o’clock in the morning. Around ten thirty, the last of our five sleepy heads stumbled downstairs from their cozy bed. Pancakes started. Someone else desperately needed a shower, especially since they couldn’t remember the last time they did so. At last, everyone was fed, so I headed upstairs for my own shower. On the way, I met a special six-year old girl who was staring at herself in the mirror and said to me in a puzzled voice: “It’s like someone cut my hair!” as she fiddled with her brown silky mop. I was about to just say, “Uh-huh”, but something stopped me in my tracks. “Elsie, why is your hair so short? Did you cut your hair?” Her eyes showed a slight mixture of fear and debate about her answer. The truth won out, and she told me she was just curious about how it would feel to cut it off. I think she found out pretty quickly. So, my shower was delayed for a bit longer while I opened up the hair salon in the bathroom. By noon we were ready to leave, but we didn’t actually leave until one-thirty. And THAT is how we roll some mornings in our house.

We arrived at Matt’s brother’s house a couple of hours late, but enjoyed time together and another visit from Santa. Here’s Elsie with her new haircut: DSC_6761-2
If I could summarize the entire month of December into one photo collage, it would look like this:

Joyous New Year!

Don’t Forget To Wash Your Hands

December 12, 2014December 12, 2014 / amylynw / 3 Comments

December started out with a bang, as I supported an amazingly strong woman through over forty hours of labor. My friend and fellow doula, Sarah, came to spell me for a few hours the last night of November. Then on the evening of December first, another baby girl came into the world. It was an honor to witness such strength and endurance as that mama displayed. I am constantly reminded of the incredible stamina and tenacity we as humans possess.

After that sleepless weekend, we were presented with “the bug”, as my children so fondly have named it. It really began Thanksgiving night with Betty getting sick outside, just as we arrived home from a wonderful day with my family. The bug slowly made its way through all but two of us: Jack & myself. So, after a few days of birth jet-lag and a few days of sickness, we made it to this week, where we have had to reel ourselves back into school again. Our attempts have felt somewhat like crash-landings a few days this week. There’s nothing gentle about reality.

Yesterday we had an adventurous trip to Trader Joe’s, where I was meeting Matthew’s mom who was going to take the kids for the afternoon. Upon arriving, Elsie had to go to the bathroom, so we all trudged into the store. After about five minutes of waiting, it was evident we were going to be there for awhile. So I sent Nadine with the others to look for the stuffed hedgehog and claim the prized lollipop that comes from finding said hedgehog hidden somewhere in the store. Five minutes later they returned, all sucking lollipops, and we hung out to wait for Elsie some more. Others joined the small area, waiting for the bathroom to be free. Then Betty, who really has no filter, put her face to the door and yelled: “Don’t forget to wash your hands after diarrhea!” I quickly tried to shush her, while holding back laughter. Of course Elsie yelled from the recesses of the bathroom: “What?!” So Betty quickly repeated her reminder in the same volume. I just about lost it, standing about ten feet from the eggs and milk section of the store, where busy shoppers were probably only wanting to think about food. I never did make eye contact with the man waiting near us.

Tonight the girls were playing their most recent game of “Holly & Annie”. Usually it begins with them meeting eachother after a long absence, and both of them determining how old the other is.
“Holly!” begins Betty.
“Annie!” Elsie replies, and they hug.
“I’m seven years old!” says Betty. (Elsie whispers: Seventeen) “Seventy!” Betty corrects herself. (No, no! Seventeen, Elsie whispers again.) “Seventeen!”
“Wow! I’m eighteen!” gasps Elsie.
“Wow! I’m almost bigger than you!” exclaims Betty, and so on it goes until they go to Hawaii or some such place. It usually is Hawaii, actually.

Recently, an incredibly sweet young lady approached me with the offer of a lifetime: to come be at our home every week for a few hours to do whatever I need her to do. That right there is an offer money can’t buy. We look forward to our weekly visits from her. Often she helps with school, or sometimes she is just another ear for this tired out mama to talk to and I know my words find acceptance and not judgement. If ever there was opportunity for her to judge, it was last week. She was supposed to come Thursday at 9AM. I woke up at 9:05. Every morning, I always lay in bed to try and remember what day of the week it is, where I need to go, who is coming here, etc. I got to that last thought and sprung out of bed to look out the window. Yep, her car was there. I stumbled downstairs to find one of the kids had woken up before me and welcomed her inside. She looked at me and laughed. This here is what we call: real life. Every day I don’t have it all together. Every day I miss stuff, mess up, fall down, or give in to the pressure of life. It’s important to be vulnerable about one’s humanness. I do not wake up gracefully. It was both humbling and hilarious to welcome a guest into my home with a sleepy voice and crusty eyes. Whatever came out of my mouth, every word was really saying, “I forgot you were coming. Forgive me while I go make some tea and clean up the supper dishes I was going to wash before you got here this morning.” Yes, this real life stuff is just that: real. Not fake or put together.

The same person who saw me in my pajamas and morning hair also offered to help me clean and rearrange my room today. I say this to encourage some of you who may be on one side or the other of this coin of life. If you have time on your side, find a mama who looks tired and worn out, and offer a chunk of time to her out of love and not self-gain. The rewards will be eternal, I guarantee you. If you are a mama and someone offers to help you, take them up on the offer! Nothing baffles me more than when we as women shrug off the need for help because we’re too proud to accept it, we’re too embarrassed to air our dirty homes, or we’re too busy to slow down and let someone into our life. I was embarrassed to my core when she saw every single thing that was under my bed. At the same time, I felt a freedom in letting go of my facade that I’m all put together. Just like you, my clothes, my house, my dishes and my hair all get dirty. If you didn’t know it, now you do. It’s a constant battle, to admit my humanness and my imperfections. I’d much rather have an instagram life, but just as quickly as you glance at that perfect picture, reality smudges the lens again.

All these imperfections make me long for more. Thanks be to God, there is more! There will be a day, where there will be no more sickness, no more pain, no more mess-ups, and no more tears. Excellence and beauty will never be tarnished by sin again. Home will be perfect and complete because Jesus is there. If you know Him personally, one day perfection will be your reality too. Until then, let’s love eachother through the bad breath, messy hair, and clutter. And let’s not forget to wash our hands after diarrhea.

So thankful for these five.

Flare-Ups, Squeaky Brakes, and Thankful Hearts

November 26, 2014November 26, 2014 / amylynw / Leave a comment

Fall is doing its steady march toward winter, and Thanksgiving is tomorrow. I know time does not in actuality move any faster each year, but the feeling of it moving extra swiftly is real.

The past month has been full of life. I’ve been staying up late at night, finishing projects that require silence, as silence is hard to come by around here before 10pm. So naturally I’ve been sleeping in a bit later as well. Yesterday, Betty came to snuggle with me. She convinced me it was time to get up, because, “Look! The sunshine is awake!” She has been full of so many funnies, I don’t even write half of them down. Yesterday there was a spider crawling on the ground. Not a normal sight in our house, and she was more freaked out than I thought she would be. After awhile of being on the couch, she starting dancing up and down and said how she had to go potty. She didn’t want to leave the couch because of the spider (which was long gone by now). She even tried to talk herself out of being scared. “Spiders don’t live in houses. They live on spider webs.” It didn’t work. “I’m scared of spiders. I don’t know where to go.” Elsie had the perfect solution: walk on the floor all around the carpet, and don’t touch the carpet where the spider was last seen. Problem solved. Their cute little feet tip-toed all around the carpet and walked to the bathroom. She also loves to sing. Sometimes she pulls out my guitar and sings all about Jesus. At the particular moment one of these was taken, she was singing a song about Jesus and rock-climbing on a mountain.
We were looking at pictures yesterday, and Betty kept thinking photos of Elsie were of her. We determined it was their hair that seemed so similar. She looked at Elsie, stroked her hair and said, “I know. Now your hair is growed up!” I’m not the only one amazed at how time is passing.

This weekend we went to see some friends in a ballet of Snow White. I took the girls, and it was absolutely hilarious sitting next to Betty. She followed the story really well, but her ongoing commentary was a hoot. At one point, she was watching one ballerina, who was supposed to be a bird, doing some flying leaps in the air. She whispered loud enough for everyone around us to hear and chuckle, “How does she do that?! You know, mommy, birds can’t dance. They fly.”

Elsie is an avid reader. Her favorite place to read is the top of the stairs, after everyone has gone to bed. We can hear her voice, drifting down the stairs, and it usually gets louder the longer she reads. She is keeping track of how many hours she reads, and I believe it is up to fourteen hours. She certainly keeps us on our toes. She is my faithful companion when it comes to running errands or tidying the house. She has been reading a book about astronomy, which led us to a discussion about how the earth is floating, and she said in an awed voice, “God is just doing His powers right now!”
Jack is wrestling again. A few weekends ago, Matthew took the boys to a wrestling tournament and Jack got third place. Elijah wrestled as well and got fifth place. Jack has decided to stick with it for the rest of the season, and it’s fun to watch him. He is also becoming more of a reader. He even brought his book to the grocery store last week, and was seen reading in the cart. This was a first. Jack takes up a lot of energy, but his heart is solid.
The blur that is Jack, pretty much sums up how he lives life.

Elijah just turned eleven! While the boys were at the wrestling tournament, the girls, Matt’s mom, and I all worked hard to switch up bedrooms to surprise them. Nadine has her own room again, the girls came downstairs, and the attic is now a boy haven. The exclamation point up there is the drum set we got Elijah for his birthday. He is a gifted musician, and it’s fun to hear him improving on the piano and drums. He is pretty sure his voice is changing, and though it’s scratchy some days, I’m not convinced yet.

Nadine claims she is constantly hungry, which could be the contributing factor to the extra inch in height she has seemed to procure lately. Yes, she is taller than me. She loves to write, and is currently working on a fabulous chapter book for kids. She babysits regularly and gets a lot of practice with her own siblings. She is currently taking a small break from horseback riding, but is excited to get back in the saddle soon. I love her zest for life, though it often makes me feel exhausted. Much of what she says and does makes me chuckle, when I remember how similar I was at twelve.
Matthew had a scare at the beginning of the month, which sent us down to Jefferson Hospital. Turns out it was not as bad as we were thinking, but there was enough inflammation to get our attention. Then this week his voice started to take a downhill turn again. After today’s appointment with his Rheumatologist, it was determined he will begin Rituxan infusions again to see if we can nip this in the bud before it gets to be where he was a year and a half ago. We are thankful. When he talks and I hear his voice catch and sound hoarse, I immediately give my fears back to the God who knows exactly what’s going on inside his body. Every day is so incredibly precious with this man I love.
The snow forecasted for today has started to fall. Our van is in the shop, getting its embarrassingly squeaky brakes fixed. I actually have gotten wide-eyed looks from people as I pull into a parking spot and come to a stop. They look like they would like to throw something at me for the pain I’ve caused their ears. I pretend like I didn’t hear anything. Squeak? What squeak? Last month our friend did some body work on it. I am embarrassed to say, but I backed into a boat trailer one September afternoon. Thankfully, the trailer suffered only a broken tail light. Oceanus was worse for the wear. On top of that, I could barely get gas in the tank because there was a small metal flap that had broken off and was hanging in such a way so the pump nozzle would get stuck. So, one night Matthew was trying to fix it. He had a pencil in his hand to hold up one side of the piece, while he tried to bend it with some pliers. It was dark. He was holding three things with two hands. It happened. He walked in the door and I said, “You did not.” He did. The pencil dropped into the gas tank. It was actually kind of funny. Even more funny was explaining it to our friend. He actually was able to fish it out for us. Now we have a pencil-free and dent-free van. Oh, and hopefully a squeak-free one soon as well.

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There is much to be thankful for today and always. Happy Thanksgiving!

Strong Faith Equals Wet Feet

November 4, 2014November 4, 2014 / amylynw / 1 Comment

This morning I wandered downstairs to the kitchen, where my early-rising husband was getting ready for the day. He stared at me. Are you okay? I smiled and put my rice-bag in the microwave. Already my feet had become cold from the short walk down the stairs. Seeing me this early, in motion, is not a frequent sight. There is a lot on my mind, though, and sometimes God wakes us up so we can spend time together without interruptions.

Later today we have a date in the city with some of his favorite doctors. The past three days his voice has taken a turn downhill, which gives us enough alarm and strong reason to see what’s up in the subglottic region of his throat. Not sure if it’s systemic because of the raging ear infection he’s had for a few months now (waiting for insurance to go through to get it looked at properly), or collateral damage from everything that’s happened to his ear, nose and throat the past ten years. We shall find out later today. It’s easy to start sinking into fear. The world is so very full of scary, unpredictable things. When I spend more time skimming news headlines instead of the Word of God, the shaky, fearfulness starts to creep into my heart and mind. I am Peter when he took his eyes off of Jesus and stared at the raging sea and started to sink. Fear cripples you, silences you, and lies to you. Fear is the result of taking our eyes off of Jesus. If you don’t know how to look to Jesus, I would assume fear has a strong hold on you.

In Matthew 14, Jesus had just finished feeding over five-thousand people. He sent his disciples into a boat and then sent the masses away. What a job that must have been. I feel weary after sending my five to their little beds each night, let alone five-thousand. Then He went up into the mountains to be alone and to pray. It was the middle of the night by now, and Jesus was very aware that the disciples were headed into a storm. Knowing the story already, we know that He has the power to calm the storm, so why didn’t He?

He knows the principle of muscle overload. Doing more than we are used to handling in order to make us stronger. His business is to strengthen our faith. So He keeps the winds blowing and the waves surging and starts to walk towards the little boat full of fishermen. I’m not sure if they were afraid of the storm, so much as we know they were afraid once they saw Jesus walking on the water. They mistook His presence for a ghost, and that scared them senseless. Maybe they wondered, like you and I, HOW can all this be happening if Jesus is right here? Why is the wind still blowing, and the storm still raging if Jesus is here?

Then Jesus confirms His presence, and encourages them not to be afraid. “Do not be afraid. Take courage. I am here!” Yes, this crazy wind doesn’t negate the fact that Jesus is here. He is testing your faith. Peter takes Jesus’ advice and has amazing courage. He asks Jesus to call him out of the boat and walk to Him. “Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water.” If Jesus is who He says He is, then He will call you too. Because Jesus is in the business of strengthening our faith. He simply says, “Come.”

This is the craziest part of the story. Peter actually does it. He climbs over the side of the boat and starts walking on the water. I don’t imagine his feet are dry, or his clothes even. The waves are still wavy, the wind is still blowing. But he isn’t sinking. He isn’t drowning. He is eye-to-eye with Jesus. His power and courage and strength are ours when we’re eye-to-eye with Jesus. We’re never untouched by the storms of life. We might even be soaked head to toe, but we don’t have to sink.

Then, it happened. Peter saw the waves. He knew they were there, but now that’s all he saw. His focus changed from Jesus, who called him out of safety, to the danger where he was called. A scary, scary place. To confirm the fearfulness of the situation, and the danger of changing his focus, Peter actually starts to sink. The Bible says, “When he saw the strong wind and the waves, he was terrified and began to sink.” Fear does that. Pulls you under, chokes the life out of you, paralyzes you.

Three words are all he has time to utter: “Lord, save me!” Jesus is so good. He doesn’t tilt His head and think it over while we flounder and gulp water. The moment we call out to Him, He saves us. He says to Peter, and to us, “You have so little faith. Why did you doubt Me?”

We don’t have to sink. His power and courage and strength are ours when we’re eye-to-eye with Jesus.

“When they climbed back into the boat, the wind stopped.” One day, there will be no more storms, no more fear, no more pain. The salt from our tears will no longer sting our faces. Jesus is there, and we will never again know fear or sadness.

Come out of sadness from wherever you’ve been
Come broken hearted let rescue begin
Come find your mercy, Oh sinner come kneel

Earth has no sorrow that Heaven can’t heal
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven can’t heal

So lay down your burdens, lay down your shame
All who are broken, lift up your face
Oh wanderer come home, You’re not too far
So lay down your hurt, lay down your heart
Come as you are

There’s hope for the hopeless
And all those who’ve strayed
Come sit at the table
Come taste the grace
There’s rest for the weary
Rest that endures
Earth has no sorrow
That Heaven can’t cure

Come as you are
Fall in His arms, come as you are

There’s joy for the morning, Oh sinner be still
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven can’t heal
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven can’t heal.
-David Crowder

When Sparks Fly and Cracks are Backed

October 23, 2014October 23, 2014 / amylynw / 1 Comment

It’s two o’clock, and I am finally eating lunch. The quiet scribble of one person doing their writing homework is like music to my ears, while the hot tea is like medicine for my harried brain. Outside, the boys are reading on the trampoline. You know, between jumps. This morning was full of dictation, reading out loud, and lots and lots of math. Math four times around each day has both enriched my brain and caused it to temporarily shut down for the day. A few facts I have learned today:

The moment I have to use the bathroom is the moment everyone has a need of great importance.

Informative speeches are impossible to write. (That fact is up for debate. Maybe the person claiming it should write a persuasive speech to prove their point.)

It is not difficult to make deodorant, and it smells amazing.

I often wipe my nose on my sleeve without even thinking. Please tell me this is something moms with small kids often do.

Receiving a big box with a smile on the side is a huge reason for celebration. Especially when the box contains a new heating element for the stove.

Ah, the stove. About a week ago, I was testing out some recipes for my first ever cooking class.

As I preheated the oven for some grain-free corn bread, I noticed a small flame dancing inside the oven. This would not be a problem if we had a brick oven, but ours happens to be electric. I tried to blow it out, because this has worked in the past. When it seemed to get bigger and start spreading, I called Elijah to grab the fire extinguisher. I ordered everyone outside, while we unsuccessfully put out the sparking flames. Finally, I told Elijah to run get our neighbor, while I called 911. Fortunately, I was able to tell the dispatcher never mind, as our neighbor ran over with a big fire extinguisher and the grand idea of flipping off the breaker connected to the stove. The second he did that, the fire fizzled into nothing. What a bunch of excitement. And mess.
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Of course my cooking class was in about ten hours, and I was now without a stove. Enter: wonderful neighbors again. Thankfully, their stove was just fine, and the classes were able to go on as planned, with just a little extra walking. I also paid double to have someone overnight a new heating element. How exciting it was to receive the box. The thrill died about as quickly as a blown-out candle when I pulled out a completely bent element that would not work at all. Thankfully, you can return things in this country. The box we received today with the smiley face on it contained a just as happy part, which will be responsible for much delightful baking this fall.

Now, seven hours later, I can hardly believe another day has passed. Often you can find out what filled my day, by glancing at the open tabs on the computer: Aromahead Institute, Patchouli, Artemisia, DIY rope rug, Amazon, Crockpot Bacon and Goat Cheese, Elderberry Syrup, Hillsong Acoustic Sessions. The other way to find out what has filled our lives the past couple of weeks is to dump some photos from my phone:

Winter clothes turnover day, many Betty faces, our own William Tell, walking Toby the rabbit, school planning squeezed in during piano lesson time, late night Bible studies, and lots of tea.
This week we also saw our whole Weldon family, including our Italian family and the college boy, which was a huge treat!

Sleepy head Betty, and her outfit of choice this Sunday: red silk and black velvet Christmas dress, blue cotton tights with pink flowers on them and black patent leather shoes. She has been asking a lot when Christmas is coming. She asks in such a way that makes it sound like a person is coming to visit us very soon. My week has also been full of aromatherapy school, pumpkins and the chiropractor. Whenever we go to the chiropractor, Betty grins, gives a big sigh, and says she loves getting her “crack backed”.

This year, the four bigs have also been involved in a homeschool co-op. Their science teacher took these great pictures of them in his class as they were learning about density.

This was the scene around the table tonight. We’ve got four readers, taking turns reading around the table. It is one of my favorite parts of the day. As is this time: hanging out with my man. Good night.

A Crazy-Hair Day

October 10, 2014October 10, 2014 / amylynw / Leave a comment

A week ago I wrote this, before being interrupted for another week:
Right now one boy is blaring classical piano music throughout the house. Two kids are playing a board game, and the other two are building with blocks and dancing at intervals. I snuck out to the front porch, literally hiding a brownie in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Just five minutes of peace would be super. It’s been a long afternoon of school, apple-sauce-making, supper-cooking, and I’m not even cleaned up yet. Time for tea and an undisclosed chocolatey snack.

It sounds all too-familiar, like I was about to type the same words now… as I lick the melted chocolate off my spoon and swallow the last sip of afternoon tea. The kids are all in their rooms practicing how to be quiet. I had a long but beautiful day being a doula yesterday, arriving home close to 2AM. Needless to say, I was pretty exhausted. The last thought I had before drifting off to sleep was: I hope I get breakfast in bed. My super amazing daughter must have known (you see, when you pray, the Holy Spirit is listening, and can communicate that need to someone else who is listening to Him). Her sweet self prepared this breakfast for me, and we enjoyed a lovely morning in our PJ’s.

By lunch-time, however, my lack of sleep started to kick in. I started making scrambled eggs and dropped one on the ground. I snapped at the children I loved so much. Then, I stopped and apologized for my grumpy attitude. Everyone suggested maybe I needed a nap. Then Nadine smoothed the air even further with her honest comment, “You know, Mom? Your hair looks CRAZY today!” I burst out laughing. It still looks crazy, by the way.

The text I sent to Matthew, which prompted my apology to the children.

So, Betty and I decided to take a nap, even though she is “never tired”. Like the other day, when she told me, “My tummy hurts. I’m tired of falling asleep.” Then this happened:

Today she told me she wanted to “talk” before we fell asleep. Thus began our conversation: “I have a question.”
“Yes, Betty? What’s your question?”
“When will I be six?”
“After you’re five.”
“Will I always be six?”
“The whole time you’re six, yes.” We then proceeded to practice counting up to six on our fingers. She is dead set on being six.
She says some pretty hilarious things these days. The other night she lamented in a very sorrowful voice, “Everybody makes me so sad.” When I asked her what would make her happy, she replied, “If you make chicken.” She asked me this out-of-the-blue question the other day: “Mom, can I put this rock in my pocket?”
“Um, sure,” I replied, puzzled.
“Just in case I need it for something.” Good to know she’s prepared.
When I asked her if she wanted apple sauce or yogurt for a snack she answered, “Hmmmmmmmm. I think my body wants yogurt.”

Last weekend, Matthew surprised me with one of my favorite date days ever. We were given tickets to Chester County Day, and drove all around the area touring historical homes, barns, and grounds. It was so beautiful, inspiring and refreshing.

I’ve been slightly obsessed with Instagram the past two weeks. The photos aren’t a false impression of my life, so much as they are a bit of an incomplete picture of it. You might see a shot of apple crisp, but in the background you can’t see the piles of dishes I just washed or have to still wash. You might see us reading books on the front porch, but you can’t see the dirt on the ground, or feel the mosquitoes trying to bite us. You might see the photo of a budding piano-player, but only we can hear the same three songs being played hundreds of times on the keyboard. You see the flower, but not the weeds.
This week’s favorite photos are as follows:

Jack’s ongoing collection of shiny things. A healed bone in Nadine’s big toe. Rock-climbing date with my Elsie Rose. Nadine’s 12th birthday, complete with crepe cake. Love and Daddy. The baby-waiting game. Beautiful clouds that make me wish I was a bird.

The boys just dug out some old CD’s, and we’re rocking out to the Kry, one of my favorite 90’s music memories. The girls are “secretly” rearranging their room (even though I could hear the furniture scooting all around their room from where I lay in bed while attempting to nap). My hair is still crazy. My heart is full.

Only 179 More Days

September 22, 2014September 22, 2014 / amylynw / Leave a comment

Last night I pulled out the half-dead morning-glory vines and squeezed back tears. My feet crunched dead-ness all around, and I fought the yucky pit in my stomach that creeps in every year around this time. This morning I put on shorts, somewhat in defiance, but succumbed to long pants because my body just can’t take anything below seventy degrees. Then I heard somewhere how today it’s fall, which means my favorite time of the year is over. So I did what is only natural for an African-born gal to do. I cried. Mourning the loss of barefoot days, flowers in abundance, fireflies at night, and countless hours spent outside, without having to worry about a coat or something to cover my feet. I may have even found a counter to check off how many days are left until spring. There are 179 more days. But who’s counting?

So, yeah, I cried over the phone to my ever-patient husband, who didn’t laugh at me for the hard morning I was having as a mom and as a summer-loving girl. But I’m not the sulky eleven-year old that I used to be. Yes, I still resist the urge to slam my bedroom door, and sometimes the door swings out of my hands a little faster than I was hoping it would, and makes a louder bang than I truly intended it to make, but I’m growing up. So, when seasons change and I let my dislike of it get to my very soul, there is a problem. I’d like to think there’s a problem with the thermometer or perhaps even the entire earth, but honestly, there’s a problem with me. There’s this tricky little part in all of us that quickly gives in to difficulty. It’s the part in us that needs words like, “In everything give thanks,” and “Endure hardship like a good soldier.” So when everything is wrong with the world, and people who love fall move to my hit-list, there is problem inside my heart. I have failed to give thanks, to see the beauty in change, and to wonder at what this change will bring to my life.

Things that thrill me no matter what season: sunshine, my man, running, fresh veggies, aromatherapy school, my amazing children, and music.

So, I choose joy. Even though I want to curl up in my bed, with chocolate and hot tea until the first day of spring, I simply can not. I will embrace this colder season of life with dignity, grace and strength provided from the God who made me, knows me, and never leaves me. I will keep donning my sneakers (along with many other layers) and run with endurance. I have goals to accomplish. Children to teach. Things to learn. Places to go. Life can’t stop just because the sun is further from my part of the globe. It’s time to pull out my scarves, check my thankfulness-meter, and perhaps buy a few mums to brighten my dead-looking garden.

Memory Lane Colliding With Today

September 16, 2014September 16, 2014 / amylynw / 1 Comment

Today I’m feeling nostalgic. Eight years ago, what was going on? Well, Jack was five months old and a crawling maniac. Elijah was into drinking tylenol, and wasn’t quite sure what hospitals were for.

Four years ago, we had recently moved.

Three years ago, we couldn’t imagine life without Betty.

Two years ago I publicly confessed my dislike of showers. I am also reminded that it’s time for another secret invitation soon.

One year ago, a baby was born. The pictures into my children’s personalities are still so similar, it is uncanny.

Today, these five keep me overwhelmed with joy to be their mama.

This year we decided not to do Awanas. The little girls were disappointed, and all on her own, Nadine initiated starting a “girl’s club” with Elsie & Betty, where they will memorize verses, do crafts and study the Bible together. She has it all planned out, and I’m excited to see her organize something like this! Tonight she even sewed a little vest for Elsie to wear during club. She will be starting her first steady babysitting job tomorrow, and is also involved in a Bible study/horse club with girls her age.

Elijah has definitely hit a new phase of life. Between moodiness, possible changes going on in the voice department, and a little more moodiness, he is growing up… and sometimes that can make one unsure of themselves. One thing is for certain: that boy can play the piano! Only three weeks into starting lessons, and he is already grasping it in a remarkable way. I’m really proud of him. His musical talent doesn’t only lie in his fingers. He memorizes songs like no one’s business. In his own words: “I know this song like I’m breathing.” He also knows how to tell jokes and make us laugh.

In looking back at pictures, I noticed that Jack is still wearing the same orange shorts he wore about three years ago. He keeps growing taller, but his waist stays the same. He can more often than not, be found upside-down. Today I gave him a chair to carry out to the trash, since it had broken beyond repair. Not too long after that, I found him, armed with spindles.
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Yesterday he came up to me and asked, “Mom, has my voice changed?” I told him, no. He said, “Oh, good.” Then Elijah piped up: “We already talked about that, Jack.” His reply: “I know. But not with Mom.” He also asked me if I could see any hair on his chest yet. I hugged my little boy with the smooth, beautiful face and feet as big as my own, and wanted to bottle up his boyish ways forever. When I asked him to vacuum off the front porch the other day, I noticed the sound of the vacuum was going on for a lot longer than the task required. I peeked outside to see him doing this, using the front door as a mirror:

I love the dirt under his arm-pits and the sweat and grime covering his body. He is one-hundred-and-fifty percent boy.

Elsie still likes shoes, still likes to work hard, and is still enthralled with hair. On Sunday night, she came downstairs after being tucked in and asked if she could “tidy up a bit.” I thought about it for about a half second. She proceeded to pick things off the floor, put them away, sweep the kitchen, wiped this and that, and made a huge difference in the outlook of the downstairs. She voluntarily pulled out each of her baskets and folded all of her clothes just perfectly before putting them all back. This girl is my inspiration for organization and cleanliness. She is also a singer, and often sings Betty to sleep at night.
Betty loves to learn. She can read, “I am Betty.” She often adds an “H” somewhere in her name, because she just loves to write H’s. She can also sing entire songs, and I am amazed at her memory. Don’t be fooled by the frilly shirt and patent leather shoes. This girl can climb. In fact, the entire time she climbed the eight-or-so-foot fence, she sang: “I’m a climber, I’m a climber…” Yes, yes, she is.
It’s been awhile since I put together a sleepy collage. I love to sneak pictures of my beautiful babies when they’re asleep. Just looking at them is making my eyelids droop. The only one who sleeps pretty much the exact same way every night is Nadine. One morning, Betty came downstairs and giggled, “Mama, Elsie’s head was on my tummy when I woke up!” They are so funny when they sleep.

Run Wild With The Hope

September 16, 2014September 16, 2014 / amylynw / Leave a comment

Amazing experiences are like pearls hidden in a shell. Unless you know there is treasure inside, it is just an ugly shell. This weekend may have looked like a crazy-dirty-roll-my-eyes-at-another-race-type-run to most people, but if you can be patient, I hope I can unpack and share with you some treasures I found hidden in the rough.

It started as a team of twelve people I barely knew. Names painted onto a van. It ended very differently.

We had two vans, with six runners per van. Every runner had three legs to complete, so we made check boxes for each of us to fill in as we finished. Art meets brawn. Or something like that.
As second runner, I waited for my first run and tried not to think about how cold I was. I imagined the warmth that would soon be coursing through my blood once I got going. Once Bonnie tagged me, I was off.
I had a two-mile climb before cresting the hill and experiencing an incredible view. The van drove by me to yell through the windows, words of encouragement. And I listened to words of worship and blessing through songs in my ears.

And the single hawk bursts into flight
And in the east the whole horizon is in flames
I feel thunder in the sky
I see the sky about to rain
And with the prairies I am calling out Your name…
And there is still a faith
That can make the mountains move
And a love that can make the heavens ring
And I’ve seen love make heaven ring…
From the place where morning gathers
You can look sometimes forever ’til you see
What time may never know
How the Lord takes by its corners this old world
And shakes us forward and shakes us free
To run wild with the hope
The hope that this thirst will not last long
That it will soon drown in the song
Not sung in vain
And I feel thunder in the sky
I see the sky about to rain
And I hear the prairies calling out Your name.

I slowed my pace to catch this view with my phone. It doesn’t do it justice. I felt so free up there, maybe a bit like how a bird feels when he’s flying across the beauty only visible between earth and sky. I could feel the glory of the mountains breaking into song and the trees clapping their hands. I was spectator to the majestic song of praise that is constantly being sung. My feet kept time, I met with my Maker up there, and it felt like holy ground.

At the second exchange, I tagged runner 3, and we were off to encourage him. Sometimes it meant screaming through open van windows, and sometimes it meant using sidewalk chalk along the craziest climb of the race. rr3

Through each exchange, each runner tagged the next.

There was a particularly breath-taking view along the way, right before Matthew’s first run.

Who spoke the Earth and sky to form
Who sets the sun and calls the dawn
Who breathed me out of dust to life
With the will to trust or run and hide

I will stay should the world by me fold
Lift up Your name as the darkness falls
I will wait and hold fast to Your word
Heart on Your heart and my eyes on You

Who loved me through my rebel way
Who chose to carry all my shame
Who breathes in me with endless life
The king of glory Jesus Christ

After Matthew ran in to finish leg 1 for our van, we headed to another exchange to wait until van 2 finished their first leg. We slept, refueled, and played Phase 10. It’s always more fun when you win.

I was a bit nervous about running through the night. Donning my headlight, strobe light, and reflective vest, I headed out into the darkness. They weren’t the only things lighting my way.

For all of this life
Your Spirit ignites
A heavenly fire
Untouched by the night

You opened our eyes
Turned death into life
Revealing all truth
There’s no one like You.

In the midst of the darkest night
Let Your love be the shining light
Breaking chains that were holding me
You sent Your Son down and set me free
Everything of this world will fade
I’m pressing on till I see Your face

At a few points during that run, my team pulled over and got out of the van to cheer me on. I’m having a hard time putting into words how that actually made me feel. It was a condensed version of life, really. We all go through dark times, when fears are tangible and light is dim to nonexistent. The second I took my eyes off the light from my headlamp, and darted them into the woods lining the dark road, my heart could feel the darkness. When our eyes are fixed on the light and power that is Jesus Christ, we are truly set free from the fear of darkness. Because darkness is really just the absence of light. Dark times can also be very lonely times. There was literally not a speck of life on some stretches of that road. When those cheering voices came into view, the feeling of loneliness and isolation was immediately overwhelmed by love. Love stands outside on a cold dark night and yells your name until you smile and find more strength in your weary legs.

When we finished our night runs, we were able to rest for a couple of hours at one of the exchanges. The third and final leg began right at dawn. My legs were sore, but quickly the adrenaline gave me an extra boost I didn’t think was possible. We had a few people’s cell phone’s taking pictures along the way. This one is not from my particular leg, but every run had the ever-encouraging “one mile to go” sign posted and blinking. It was pretty exciting to hand off the bracelet one more time, and then revel in the joy of being finished.

Finished running, maybe, but not finished cheering on my team.

When we all completed our legs, we ate a delicious meal before driving to the finish-line in Washington D.C. I even managed to wash my hair and self in the small bathroom sink at Panera. Glory.
The view was gorgeous from the finish line, and then it began to pour. Van 2 team did an amazing job of enduring over very difficult hills, through the night, and in the rain. A few minutes before our last runner crossed the finish line, the sun came out and smiled on our tired but happy team.

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Driving home, the sun kept on shining. Check marks on the windows reminded me of hundreds of miles run. Goals accomplished. Hills conquered. Darkness overwhelmed by light. No longer just names painted on a van. Real souls, with stories of their own. Real hearts that pump blood through their bodies. Bodies capable of more than each of us thought possible at times. Names turned into friends. Friends who made me laugh to my core, and changed me in some intangible way I haven’t quite figured out yet. But I know I’m better because of them.
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I’ve been shaken up a little. Pushed out of my comfort zone a lot. And somewhere out there on the road, I found a part of myself I didn’t know was missing.

When I agreed to this race, I only saw the shell. I was skeptical of the entire idea. Yet through the hard work and grit and grime, a real pearl emerged. It reflects teamwork, laughter, determination, and friendship. Unique and priceless. Press on. You never know where the next road will take you.