This week was full of challenges, beauty, tears and smiles. And lots and lots of ice.
Great cases of cabin fever produce much creativity.
When the lights flickered off on Tuesday morning, I didn’t think too much of it. Our power-less morning meant walking over to our neighbor’s house and warming ourselves by their wood stove. We had two fevered boys chilling on the couch, and our day felt like it was going in slow motion. Not until later on did we realize just how wide-spread of a disaster the ice-storm created. Overnight, our entire area came to a screeching halt. I only pulled out my phone camera this entire week, but my mind holds the incredible beauty in its memory bank. One shot of an evergreen tree, encased in ice:
On Thursday, we ventured outside of our neighborhood and drove a few miles. Instead of typical scenery, we entered a magical, sparkling world. Glass trees, as far as our eyes could see, covered the landscape. I couldn’t stop exclaiming. Looking at the other-world-like richness, it seemed like my soul sang poetry. Words only meant for the Creator of such splendor. Words I have no ability to write. Now I know why crystal is one of God’s choices for Heaven’s decor.
Who knew such beauty could wreak such havoc?
Yet amidst the disaster, more beauty. Fellowship with friends who still lacked electricity. Sharing of warmth and coffee. I know it has been a super-challenging week for many folks. However, it’s been such a blessing to be on the giving end of the stick. Sometimes it can be very difficult for people in this country to allow themselves to be showered with love (or water!) in time of need. We are naturally prideful, and it can be cloaked in the tidy words of: “I don’t want to be a bother”. Let me be very clear on this matter: If I don’t want you to come use my shower or accept a cup of hot coffee, then I would not offer! It was beautiful to see and hear stories of different folks bunking out at other people’s houses, or getting clean in other people’s showers, or doing laundry with other people’s washing machines. We should both be quick to offer our help, and quick to receive it when needed. What heaps of joy for those who are on the giving end!
On Friday, Matthew got scoped again to see what’s going on in the subglottic region of his throat. The doctor was pleased with what he saw: nothing worsening; small improvement; no immediate action needing to be taken. He has two weeks until he sees the ear doctor again to see if he will need a new tube put in the one side that has been infected for a couple of months. Afterwards, we sat down at our new favorite cafe in the city: Le Pain Quotidien. The chocolate banana bread with caramelized bananas: amazing.
Then yesterday, it was determined the length of hairs in this house was out of control. Everyone got their hair cut, including mama. At first, Matthew was going to cut my hair. It soon became clear how very different cutting wood and cutting hair can be. After a few snips and exclamations, which clearly indicated he did not know what he was doing… I grabbed the scissors and got acquainted with the mirror.
Now another fresh inch or two of white has fallen from the sky, and I didn’t even notice at first. Snow is no longer shocking, and I’m slowly making friends with it. Underneath each snow-flake, there is dirt and life and growth. Between cold and foggy breaths, there is great anticipation of spring in the air. Like all promises true, it will come. Be of good courage, and He will strengthen your heart. Wait on the Lord.
adventure
Five Little Minions
We have woken up to snow so many mornings this winter! Today’s snow dumped another six to eight inches on top of what was already there. A couple of weeks ago, the kids made a fabulous three-door hobbit home in the front yard. Hours upon hours were spent carving it out of the snow with my garden trowel. I love their creativity!
After hours in the snow, hot tea or hot chocolate are a welcome treat. Elsie is my usual tea-girl and loves it just like her mama.
Last weekend we finally were able to meet the newest cousin on the Weldon side of our family! Taylor Grace fought her way out of Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia and is home and smiling! What a treat to snuggle and love her in person.
We celebrated Christmas Part III, since she was admitted to the hospital Christmas Eve. It was simply delightful.
One of our favorite gifts: five little minion hats, crocheted by Aunt Heidi! They are a scream.
A collection of life through the lens of my phone:
What My Husband Did Behind My Back
Some days hit you like a blast of cold water being unexpectedly tossed over your head during a hot shower. Usually motherhood is a series of such moments, as startling as a scattering of sharp legos all over a bedroom floor: you know they’re there, but you can never be quite prepared for their sting. Such was Friday. Actually, ever since Tuesday my brain had been thinking it was Friday. When Friday at last arrived for real, I was ready for it to finish its comic series of events. At the time, they were not-so-funny events. 
During nap time, Betty came wandering downstairs to where I stood in the kitchen. She sidled up next to me, smoothed her hair and said with a coy look on her face, Is it perfect, mama? I looked a bit closer, thinking she had wet her hair in the bathroom. Nope. There was no hair to wet. She had given herself a generous haircut, right in front. Perfect wasn’t the first word that came to mind.
A teeny tiny part of her bangs remain after her perfect haircut.
My day just kept getting better. While making dinner, which involved mixing up a batch of pizza dough, I grabbed the garlic powder to put a shake of it into the batter. Obviously, I flipped open the wrong side of the cap, as a huge pile of garlic powder dumped like an avalanche into the wet dough. I quickly scooped out as much garlic powder as I could, muttering under my breath. The next best thing to do: double the batch and enjoy the garlic.
As the evening wore on, small things started to get to me. There was mud where I didn’t want mud. There wasn’t hair where I wanted hair. There was arguing. There were interruptions. I have a spot where I like to hide in my room. If I sink down low enough, no one knows I’m there. Friday they seemed to instinctively find me. Especially the nap-less one. I felt like the mama elephant in the book Five Minutes Peace. Eventually it became clear: There is no avoiding the masses, I thought. It’s time to jump back in the boat. So I stopped hiding and plugged on through the evening, mustering up as much strength as I could.
Despite my resolve to be happy when Matthew got home, he was met with a more wiped-out-than-usual countenance. With much grace, he just hugged me. I started going over the difficulties of my day. He took my head in his hands and said something which really caught my attention. It was as startling as a blinding light shining in my eyes: Aim, the kids have never complained to me about you. I needed to stop doing what they never do to me. After looking at Betty’s hair, he let her know it’s not okay for her to cut her own hair, then he turned to me and said simply, She’s three! Yes, indeed. This will pass. It will grow. She learned. Move on.
My emotions were stabling, but not quite steady. I had one last complaint to offer my unwavering husband. I was feeling a bit vengeful towards the bathroom scale, and did a little “Woe is me” routine. Yes, I have been exercising about twice a month. Yes, I am no longer in my twenties, so that matters now. Still, I wish that scale showed me a little slack. I was going to go to the downstairs bathroom to make sure the toilet was flushed and there was no pee all over the seat before our company arrived. Surely my day was on the upswing.
Matthew went upstairs to get cleaned up from work and I decided to check our email before checking the cleanliness status of the powder room. I was a little shocked at what I saw. Next I checked facebook, and the top news in my feed was this:
Surprise anniversary gift for my wife: registering her for the Philly love run half marathon!!! She doesn’t know yet!! Wait till she checks FB or email! Let the training begin! Giddy with excitement!
Let’s just say, I had to go into the downstairs bathroom to compose myself. I spotted a lime on the laundry room floor before walking back into the kitchen. I picked it up and thought pretty seriously about beaning Matthew with it when I saw him. I’m glad some of our company had just arrived and was standing in the kitchen with my sneaky husband, when I emerged. Otherwise, that lime would have made swift contact with his head. He grinned and rubbed the goosebumps off his arms. Risky, risky move, buster.
Since Friday, I’ve thought a lot about difficulties and training. Running this morning in 30-degree weather would not have happened if I had not been presented with this challenge. (My husband knows me pretty well.) Plain and simple, we tend to shy away from difficulties. We want to go from point A to point C without passing through point B. This is impossible. We want to learn a piece of music without ever practicing. We want our kitchen to be spotless without lifting a finger. We want to lose weight without the sacrifice of watching our diet and putting in any effort to exercise. I so desperately want to run 13.1 miles without having to go out there every single day and run one mile or two. It just isn’t going to happen, no matter how much my desire is for it to happen that way. The richness of any accomplishment is deeply rooted in the amount of time it required to succeed.
In the same way, our Heavenly Father knows what’s best for us. He sees that finish line, so very distant from our earthly eyes. He tells us things very similar to what Matthew has been telling me: “You’re stronger than you think, Aim.” My grace is sufficient in weakness, Jesus tells us. Like any good trainer, He pushes us outside our comfort zone. That is where we see results. When you walk the same path over and over, never stretching yourself to go a bit further, you may miss the incredible view just up ahead. When we run the same mile and never push our lungs and our legs past that initial burn, we never discover we have the ability to do a bit more. Jesus totally knows how hard it is. He never once said life would be burden-free, but He invites us to lay our burdens on His capable shoulders. He never said He would only give us as much as WE think we can handle. But He said “My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” He will give you just a bit more than you think you can handle, so you’re stronger to go the next mile. It’s cold, it’s nasty sometimes, but He always sticks with us.
So I start my thirteen-mile journey… one step at a time.
Giving Thanks for Twenty-Seven, Road Trips and Scavenger Hunts
Thanksgiving weekend began with our Weldon family gathering. Turkey vegetable tray, dangly earrings, a crackling fire, and games highlighted our time together. We even managed to pull off a paleo thanksgiving breakfast, complete with monkey bread!
Next, we took off for New York. With new tires on the van and every inch packed to the gills, sipping joy tea, we listened to a Thanksgiving history audio book from my dad and enjoyed an almost completely argument-free drive up North. It was delightful!
We were welcomed by a happy sign:
The highlight of our time together was the Mall Scavenger Hunt we did one day. We divided into four teams, according to birth. Various items on the list to find were: “something that smells good, the largest bug, and someone doing the best karate move.” We also had to “plank” as a team and find Grandma and Grandpa who were wandering around the mall. The team who found them first got… the honor of finding them first. As leader of the 3rd-borns, I’d like to acknowledge we found them first. We had one hour to scavenge the mall. The creativity started flowing.
There were the firstborns:
The second-borns:
The third-borns:
The fourth-borns (and Betty):
Besides the fun of the scavenger hunt, the daddies took almost all the kids ice-skating, and we enjoyed snow, games, and many delicious meals together.
Our entire family:
At the beginning of November, my dad reminded us of the news we received as a family twenty-two years ago: Get one small bag packed with all that you treasure the most. Get ready to evacuate Nyankunde tomorrow! As a girl of almost twelve, this was an exciting adventure. It didn’t turn out how I imagined, however. Our “quick” trip back to the United States turned into permanent. It’s hard to imagine how twenty-two years later, our family of six has grown into a family of twenty-seven, with another on the way! (My sister, not me!) God has richly blessed us with a family who loves each other, drives great distances to be with each other, and children who think their other cousins are the absolute bomb-diggity! I couldn’t be more thankful.
Where Opossums Sleep and Cars Melt
I love to write. Today, however, is best left unwritten. This Veteran’s Day, I fought my own battles and waged my own war, along with my small army of five. We came out victorious in the end, but sometimes the process is painful at best. The past weekend was rough. I woke up with a blazing fever on Saturday morning, tried my best to mother from bed, while the kids brought me water, cool cloths, and warm rice bags for my freezing cold feet. Matthew was gone, and it was a sad and strange weekend. Both sets of grandparents were gracious to lend their hands to help with the kids so I could sweat and sleep in quiet. Thank you, guys… words aren’t enough.
Sickness, an opossum in the trashcan, and ornery computers all fall into my “No thank you” category of life.
When I focus on the misspellings, the bickering, the grime, and the general imperfectness of life… I end up just like a little wet rain cloud. It’s not cute. This is why I must write, because when I write, I remember. I remember: I love you, Mom, scrawled across the chalkboard… when it felt like the opposite was true. Someone finally nailing multiplication tables. Five wild munchkins voluntarily starting a game of hide-and-go-seek at the magic hour of hunger, while I finish cooking supper. A surprise cleaning of the bathroom without being asked. An entire day of clean bedrooms. Supper altogether.
In our one-room-school-house, learning doesn’t always involve the books. After the boys presented a reasonable-sounding argument as to why I should allow them to melt a few “useless” cars with the heat gun, I obliged. They showed care and it kept them busy for almost an hour.
While the boys melted cars, the girls enjoyed playing with shapes. I love what a dollar can buy in a thrift store!
My favorite thing last week in school had to be Jack’s letter he wrote to our friend in basic training. I knew in his mind he was thinking: Thank you for defending our country, but he wrote: Thank you for saving our city. I absolutely love it. He even told me today that he loves to write.
Those words made my heart soar, because loving to write isn’t forced, it’s born. Every once in a while, I get to witness the miracle of new discoveries being born in the hearts and minds of our children. It’s worth all the labor and gives me fresh perspective to press on for another day.
Oscopy, Ontology, Bananafanafofology
Today was a great day to be in the city. I ran back and forth from the medical building to the parking lot to add more money to the meter, as the doctor’s appointment got longer and longer. A “quick” consult with the ENT surgeon led to seeing yet another specialist at Jefferson hospital in Philly. The first doctor didn’t like what he saw in the subglottic region of Matthew’s windpipe. The second doctor videotaped his way down Matthew’s throat and explained what we were looking at:
See here and here? Those are your vocal chords. They are supposed to be white, not bright red like that. Down beyond this area is where you are having swelling, and which makes it hard for you to breathe. It was fascinating. Like our friend (who is a speech-language pathologist) described his vocal chords, they looked like a butterfly flapping its wings… except this butterfly shouldn’t be red. The real problem lies just under the voice box, and we discussed what our next step needs to be. As the Wegener’s runs its course, it acts somewhat like a roller-coaster: flaring up and then getting back under control. We are hopeful to be on the downward slope right now.
As long as things don’t flare way back up, he is scheduled for a bronchoscopy in four weeks in order to closely examine the extent of the subglottic stenosis and to perform a balloon dilation of his stenotic area. Basically, opening up his airway ever so little and hoping this small dilation will remain open… then doing it again a few weeks later if his body handles it well. He explained it as a two steps forward and one step back operation. He will also be seeing an otologist about his ears… which have some problems again.
As crazy as it is to keep all the doctors in order, we are so incredibly thankful to have access to these remarkable specialists. We are thankful his eye tubes have still held up and look good a couple of years after that surgery. We are thankful for people who have joyfully watched our children so we can go to all these appointments and for kids who come home and report having “the best day ever!” We are thankful for being forced to slow down and recognize what is truly important. It isn’t our car, our house, our clothes, or our status. It is our breath, our relationships, our time and how we use it. We know we belong to the God of the universe, the God who sees. We don’t know when our last breath will be, but we know when it ends on this earth, our life truly begins. Until that day, we want every moment to count.
Flapper girl with my motorcycle man last night.
Everything New Today, or ENT
As usual, this week has passed about as quickly as the wind that whips my hair through the open windows of the car. This phone dump is a smattering of what has blown through this week:
My life, in our van, is always noisy. I admit, I’m jealous of folks who say their kids get sleepy in the car. Ours tend to go a bit wild. They tell jokes, do anything and everything to annoy their neighbor, cry, sing, tattle, and do whatever it takes to not fall asleep. I experienced an almost-flat tire last Saturday. When I drove into the gas station to check it out, I hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet when a very nice man started to pump up my visibly flat tire. Turns out there was a screw in there, and was easily fixed later.
A city date with friends did my claustrophobic mommy-heart good. There are some days when the walls of home and car seem very tight, and the expanse of the city line eases the life-is-closing-in-feeling. We ate at an Ethiopian restaurant which served stellar samosas, delicious dinner and the most amazing coffee I’ve ever had. It was so good, that I tried my hand at cooking it at home, with great success and happiness.
Another highlight was our 10-10 at 10:10 date to get Elsie’s cast off her arm! With a clean bill of health, she is back to speeding across monkey bars.
This week it was an honor seeing my 4th and 5th grade teacher from when I lived in Africa. When time telescopes like this, I shake my head in wonder at how I have such clear memories of when I was as old as two of my children.
Other highlights include the fact that I need reading glasses.
Yesterday, two of my accessory-loving children got into my closet. It was a much-needed diversion from school.
Then somehow the outfit helped Jack get through the rest of his work a little easier.
Cooking is on an upswing for me, after a long bout in non-inspiration land.
Matthew visited the ENT this week and found out he has a yeast infection in his throat, so he’s on medicine for that now. His voice continues to be hoarse and he’s trying to rest it as much as possible. Otherwise, he feels well. In the next couple of weeks he needs to meet up with the plastic surgeon who did the surgery on his eyes a couple of years ago. We will need to set up a long-term game plan for possible future reconstructive surgery of his sinus area. The bridge of his nose is collapsing, and before a situation might become emergent, we need to figure out some possible courses of action. We would love to stop the medical dates, trips to the pharmacy, and be immune to disease. Yet, we know Jesus more through trial than through ease. We grow when the weight is heavy, not light. This temporary home loses much of its charm when it’s full of trouble, and our heavenly home grows more beautiful. Knowing every situation is allowed by God who knows and loves us more deeply than we’ll ever understand, gives comfort and peace beyond explanation. One day ENT will have a new meaning for us: that day when Jesus makes everything new. Everything New Today… might be today!
Neigh-deen The Horse Whisperer
My horse girl had her dream-come-true birthday when she participated in her first horse show. It’s been a little late in coming, but here are the pictures of our beautiful 11-year-old girl doing what she loves best!
Those chocolate eyes do a much better job of melting than intimidating.
The boys found a friend who shares Elijah’s birthday. They had fun playing together and watched Nadine occasionally.
Nadine won seven ribbons, including 2nd place for jumping! She is so graceful on a horse!
As her brother likes to say, You and Daddy named her neeeeigh-deen because she loves horses! Well, that is not actually the reason, but it’s a fun play on words! Way to go, baby girl!
Veggie Ice-Cream
Some days what is true just doesn’t match up with what I’m feeling. For instance: I am so in love with my children, and think they are the best. However, sometimes circumstances cause something inside me to go “snap!” Like when a voice goes above a certain decibel, or when someone decides to shoot a nerf bullet at someone else’s eye right at bedtime. I don’t feel the love when someone leaves the freezer just slightly open right before we head out the door, and I find out a few hours later. My feelings are pretty much the opposite of warm and fuzzy when puddles of special ice-cream have melted into the peas and corn. My feelings are a simmering pot of hot water when the dairy/veggie mush leads to an entire deep cleaning of the refrigerator and freezer. I am thankful I can go grocery shopping. But sometimes dragging five kids in the rain to my least favorite store makes my blood start a slow and steady boil. I have never had to do this before, but when one of my unnamed children decided to throw their flip-flop as high as they could in the middle of aisle seven, this mama had to climb the shelves like a ladder and pull it out from between the bags of flour on the top shelf. Excuse me if I step on your groceries.
I love being a mom, but there are times I don’t feel it.
The truth is, I am so incredibly thankful for our home. Yet sometimes my emotions start dictating thoughts of discontent over the color of my walls or the state of my sofa. Right now, our laundry room is being refinished. The floor is gorgeous. Soon the rest will be as well.
Until it is finished, I am living out the book, “It Could Always Be Worse”. If I thought my kitchen felt tight or crowded, a good solution is to bring the washer, dryer, linens, and a dresser in to join the chaos. Now I am cooking and canning while maneuvering around a dresser. I plop the kids wherever there is a clean corner of the table, which juts out into the middle of the kitchen. I have to crawl under the table to fetch the parchment paper or griddle. The laundry is quickly piling up, because when there is an average of ten dirty outfits a day (factoring in boys), going on a week without a washer, works out to be about seventy outfits needing to be laundered. It could always be worse.
So since the kitchen is a mess, we celebrated Nadine’s birthday at Hibachi. Their faces say it all:
I am so thankful truth is not based on feelings. I’m also thankful for rescued flip-flops, clean freezers, and laundry-free days.
Eyes Open To Beautiful
Things I’ve been loving about our children:
When Jack wraps his arms around me just because. When he tells stories, his voice gets deeper and he sounds like a little man weaving a tale of seriousness. I love that he is brave enough and has the imagination wide enough to wear a cowboy hat for an entire day all throughout the city of Philadelphia. 
I love how his trusty sidekick wears a pink cast and also a swell hat. I also love that by the time we got home, he had transformed into “Bill” and talked in a cowboy accent and enjoyed his “cowboy soup” for supper. 
I love how they make celebrities out of ordinary people. Like the other day when Jack and Elsie took their mini white erase boards to our next-door neighbor and asked him to please sign his name. They got so excited when he did so, and didn’t erase their boards for the rest of the day.
Betty is so verbal and polite. On Friday we went with some friends on the train to the Franklin Institute. When we got off the train, she said, Thank you for the train, Mommy! After walking through the giant heart, she ran up to me and said, That was amazing! My heart is amazing! Unbelievable.
Jack discovering how polymers work… relieved when the cup of water did NOT dump onto his head!
Nadine did a great job blowing up a balloon!
At the end of the extremely fun day, things melted down on the train ride home. My friend got this great picture of how things REALLY looked those last few minutes. Tired mommies, tired kiddos.
The next morning Betty’s sweet thankful heart was back again after a good night’s rest and she told me: Thank you for the eggs and bacon, Mommy. I’m going to wash my hands. I’m going to do it myself. And proceeded to do so. She is somewhat of a self-acclaimed vegetarian, but she loves bacon!
A couple of weeks of school have finished and I’m thrilled they are still smiling! We even have ninjas who sometimes attend. Elsie wrote everything on her board all by herself. The last line is my favorite, translated: I love God as well.
My fifth student helped me chop a ton of peppers to freeze for the winter. Sometimes she can be very serious about her work, but she is always a really cute and helpful chef!
There are always things I am learning and loving about our children. I always want my eyes to be wide open to the beautiful, amongst the mess and flurry that is life.
Grow Old With Me 