love

Got Baking Soda?

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This week has been what I would call a baking soda week.  Sometimes when you’re eating a really delicious cookie, all of a sudden you bite down on a mouthful of baking soda.  No matter how marvelous that cookie tasted one moment ago, even the memory of it is temporarily spoiled by that one bitter bite.  Friday started it off.  We excitedly took a train into the city and blissfully enjoyed a day with the three older kids, while Grandma watched the younger two.
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We saw the light show at Macy’s, then headed to the Franklin Institute where Nadine and I saw the Titanic exhibit, while the boys watched the Hobbit. 2012-12-13
Elijah got to blow up a balloon with fire.  He was a great sport during the chemistry class.
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We hopped on buses, took tons of pictures, and enjoyed every second.
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I noticed a flag at half-mast, but since we are disconnected while out and about, I had no idea what had been happening in CT while we happily rode the train.  It was a bitter bite to swallow once I read the news that night.

Then Sunday rolled around, and I excitedly got my special Christmas outfit on, threw clothes on the kids that hopefully weren’t too torn or stained (it’s inevitable on Sunday mornings that these articles of clothing surface the most) and Matthew made me a nice big cup of hot tea to take in the car.  We had five minutes to get to church since the kids were singing, and as we happily started to pull away from the curb, what would happen?  Why, of course: the handle of my mug broke completely off and the entire cup of scalding tea (now it is no longer hot, it is scalding) spilled all over my specially-picked-out dress.  The tears immediately sprung, no, gushed out of my eyes.  I took my handle-less mug, yanked open the van door, slammed it (yes, I struggle with this even still), stomped up to the front porch crying… then stomped back down the stairs and sort-of intelligibly told Matt to get the kids to church on time and come back and get me.

That was really bitter on a morning that started off so incredibly sweet.  However, I am blessed to own more than one outfit, and so thankfully was able to still go to church, albeit late, and hear our children sing their sweet hearts out for Jesus.  The bitterness faded.

Then all of a sudden we were plunged into the week before Christmas.  How did this happen?  I’m loving the late-night sewing sessions, but the time is really going too fast for my liking.  I had a very bitter moment today when the long hours of Christmas preparations were “spoiled” after somebody saw my secret stash of presents.  Something about it just got to me so much that every single last ounce of sweetness turned into a bitter, unable-to-swallow pill.  I lost it.  The snotty mess that I was turned into even more of a mess when I experienced yet again the deep forgiveness children offer to their sinful parents.  God has quite a way of reflecting His grace through our kids.

God is actually in the business of turning bitter into sweet.  It’s not His purpose for our lives to be bitter and full of despondency   In Exodus 15, when the Israelites came to the bitter waters of Marah, God provided a way to sweeten the water and meet their need.  He also causes beauty to rise from ashes and mourning to turn into dancing.  His specialty is turning what others meant for evil, into good.  So often we focus in on that one bitter bite.  Yet we must remember: there is a reason for every sadness, every trial, every hurt, every tear.  We might not know it on this side of eternity, but we have to trust our Father because He is good.  God is good because that is who He is, not because of what He does or does not do.  He never tires of our tears and in fact He holds them all in a bottle.  (Psalm 56:8)  This week I thought maybe that bottle would be close to overflowing.  Yet He never stops unfolding grace upon grace on this child of His.
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World’s Toughest Mudder Experience

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Our tendency is to shy away from pain and discomfort.  This weekend I came face to face with over a thousand people who thought otherwise.  My husband was one of them.  Matthew competed in the World’s Toughest Mudder in New Jersey.  Nadine and I went to support and cheer him on.  If I could recap everything in a couple of words, I would choose: Muddy, Cold, and Stinking Hard.  Willingly, they began a 24-hour race stretching 10 miles, dotted with 32 obstacles.  The goal: get through as many laps as you could in 24-hours.  It started out as quite fun.  Beautiful weather, warm gloves, french fries and treats made our spectator spot quite appealing.

Some friends sent us off with a package of treats which we enjoyed immensely   Another friend mailed me a package with 24 gifts to open at each hour.  We lined them up on the dashboard of our van, and I took a picture of most of them, but once it got dark I put my camera away.  I appreciated the toothbrush and toothpaste for when my mouth got “woolly”, and the glow sticks at 9pm were a great hit.  The handwarmers at midnight were a lifesaver!  Books to pass the time, and other gifts to simply make me smile and take my mind off the shivers.  Thank you! 
Matthew’s “tent” site, without a tent.  Simply a blanket, chair and box of ice-tea and food… everything that wasn’t consumed was frozen solid by night.


My wonderful daughter who kept me company and helped my spirit tremendously throughout the day.

Coming off Everest.  One side they slid down, then on the other side of the lap they had to scale it again.
Our favorite guy.

Once the sun started dipping over the horizon, however, things took quite a different turn.  The temperature dropped so low that everything wet started to freeze.  That basically meant every single surface, since there was mud and water everywhere.  My boots no longer kept my feet warm, and I wondered at the wet sneakers of each runner, and how their toes weren’t falling off.  I won’t give you a breakdown of every hour, but between the hours of 10pm and 1am, I was at my lowest.   The hat and gloves Matthew was wearing didn’t fit him correctly, so he had taken them off,  which later made matters worse.  His hands were so cold.  This was in the back of my mind while Nadine and I warmed ourselves in the van.  She eventually fell asleep and I set off to try to find Matthew since we had lost contact with him for 3 hours.   At midnight I walked the now familiar mile to the 29th obstacle, to see if I could find him.  I did.  He was the best muddy sight I have ever seen.  Holding back my tears, and while my feet froze in my dry boots, I watched him go through icy cold water and then through some electroshock “therapy”.  We walked the last frigid mile together.  When we split up, he told me he would see if he could warm his hands and feet.  I went to our van to close my eyes for a bit, and the next thing I knew, he was knocking on the window, bags in hand.  His body felt physically able to continue, but the cold dominated.  He completed 40 miles total.

I’m so incredibly proud of his determination, his courage to face very difficult situations, his stamina, and his wisdom to know when enough is enough.  I’m so thankful for the people who rallied around us during this weekend.  I’m so thankful that Matthew didn’t suffer any injuries, and that we were able to grow closer to each other through this experience.

Love Letter Home

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Today I am thankful for mail.  It’s amazing, how the ability to communicate more easily has increased, yet the depth of communication is diminishing.  Our little black mailbox has an abundance of white envelopes with shiny plastic windows, almost automatically identifying it as “junk”.  Mail has always been important to me.  I remember sitting around the table in our Africa home, as my dad put us kids to work folding letters and licking stamps by the hundred, before mailing out our prayer letter.  It has always been a part of my life.  I remember writing my own “newsletters” as I grew older, reporting things like the weather and the status of our family pet.  Once my sister, Sherry, and I made a joint newsletter and mailed them all in handmade envelopes made from magazine pages.  This week I got busy making a stack of my own.  I almost felt like she was with me, folding them in front of the fireplace at our old house, giddy with excitement over how people would love the surprise of such a colorful envelope in their mailbox.

Matthew and I used to write to each other all the time.  Before email, before texting, I got the kind of mail that made my heart skip a beat when I saw the handwriting.  This week my heart has skipped a lot of beats.  Matthew has taken the time to write me every day and surprised me with real deal mail.  Stamp, envelope, everything.  No return address, because it would just arrive home anyway.  Each letter has blessed me in unspeakable ways.  I love my husband more than ever.  I’m so thankful for the time he takes to treasure my heart.

A Word Picture of Our Morning

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He doesn’t walk, he does backwards rolls into the kitchen.  The other boy doesn’t just walk, he  somehow makes his feet sound like elephants.  She hops on one leg, convincingly pretending that her leg is broken, because she’s always wondered what that’s like.  The other girl twirls her hair while she walks down the stairs, looking sleepy and disheveled.  The baby, unlike her siblings at that age, still doesn’t know that it’s possible to climb out of her bed, so she squawks and waits with her pink bunny and faithful fingers in her mouth.  She giggles when she’s rescued and immediately wants her shoes put on her feet.

Breakfast smells delicious.  There are perks to being low on milk, because it forces the making of chocolate chip banana bread.  The children are magnetically pulled towards the oven, then shooed back to the couch to wait ten more minutes for it to finish baking.  Their appetites are temporarily satiated by hidden pictures and books.

My cup of tea is almost finished.  The sleepy hair-twirler is on my lap, cozy pink blanket wrapped around us both.  Our morning begins, and I wonder what is being held in store for us today.

The Delivery

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Yesterday I had some unexpected splashes of color painted into my day.  Highlights of joy that I didn’t  know I needed, but as usual, my Heavenly Father knew I needed them.  After a bit of a rough start with school, things smoothed out.  Shortly after, I got a text from a friend saying she prayed for me this morning over her cup of hot tea.  I know it’s because of her prayers.  Then after a couple of hours of school, sprinkled with lots of loud exclamations from Betty (who loves highlighters and scissors and glue… oh my!) there was a flower-delivery man at my front door!  Tucked into a fall pumpkin were yellows and oranges and reds and a sweet note from a friend.  I needed that so badly!  The thoughtfulness that went into those flowers touched me so much!  I love surprises, and that fit the bill completely!  I love color & beauty, and both were hand delivered to my doorstep.  Thank you, friend, for refreshing this mama’s heart!  I’m so excited that I get to look at my flowers with a cozy sweater on (because the temperature smells of fall, even if the calendar doesn’t.)

After school we had to form a search party for our dear bunny.  Toby is half-tame and half-wild and we let him roam our basement and sometimes he goes outside.  Usually he stays in our yard.  Sometimes he doesn’t.  We eventually found him under a huge pine tree in our neighbor’s yard.   Afterwards, I was able to spend the entire afternoon with just Nadine.  We went to the library, got ice-cream, then went thrift-store shopping.  For the price of one pair of sunglasses we bought books, a few outfits, two pairs of sunglasses, a few pairs of boots, and six pairs of earrings!  It was a lot of fun.  I learned that she doesn’t like to be surprised as much as she likes to be “in the know”.  She is changing into someone who wants to know ahead of time where we’re going so she can plan and think about what outfit to wear!  She’s not like her little sisters who don’t care whether they’re wearing pajamas or not before running out the door. She relished the time shopping.  This has never happened before.  I almost feel like I felt the first week she was at home.  Unsure of how to care for this little person.  In awe that this life has been entrusted to our hands.  Now, almost ten years later, I’m feeling very much like we’re in an entire new phase of life.  Not only that, but the other four will just as quickly be changing and phasing out of their childhood.  I pray to be steadied.  The other day as she was helping me clean up the kitchen, she had just finished shaking out the tablecloth outside and was putting it back on the table.  She said, “What do you really not like about tablecloths?  They’re pretty, they’re useful… I wonder who invented them?”  Her thoughts are many and varied!

So far everyone is still very eager beaver about school, and it’s almost time to start.

I’m thankful that I have five beautiful faces and some lovely flowers to look at all morning!

Eighty

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On Sunday we celebrated the 80th birthday of Matthew’s grandmom.  She is a beautiful lady, rich in history.

  

 

 
We had such a great time with our family!  Grandmom’s life is full of grace and strength.  We joked around about her many sayings, like, “Marguerite, Marguerite, wash your feet.”  She always laughs like it’s the first time she’s said or heard it.

 

 

    
As usual, there was a conglomeration of things going on.  Volleyball.   Bubbles.  Running around.  Handstands.  Climbing flagpoles.


Our family with Pop and Grandmom… missing the four in Italy!

  
We ended the night with sparklers!
  

Another Day in The Life

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It’s pretty awesome when it’s been a few months since something like this has happened, and then it happens when I least expect it.  Let’s just say I love surprises.  Matthew called me to say that I had to be ready to go out with him at 5:30 tonight.  “Wear work-out clothes, but bring something to change into as well.”  Oh boy.  That is what happens when you go on dates with a personal trainer.  SO, thanks to our amazing friend and pastor, Jon, who watched our kids, Matthew and I took off for an evening of fun.  I fought the urge to get grumpy about part A of our date.  We went to the cross-fit gym and my nerves stopped fidgeting once I got moving.  It was hard not to think about anything other than my shaking legs and the uncomfortably close feeling of about to puke.  But, like everyone said, after finishing I felt great.  It was also pretty cute seeing Matthew’s beaming face when I was all done.  Afterwards we grabbed something to eat and enjoyed some uninterrupted conversation.

That, coupled with another sweet friend bringing us dinner, made up for the especially tiring morning  I had.  After we finished school, I  finally caved and went to the grocery store.  It is pretty bad when the kids are eating graham crackers for breakfast… and lunch.  Despite low blood-sugar levels, everyone was especially energetic it seemed.   We were one of those families today at the store.  The boys were ninjas who were hungry for everything they saw and pretended to consume each item on every shelf.  Then somewhere between when I was paying attention and when I was reading labels on shampoo bottles, Nadine had been chasing Betty down the aisle and fell and skinned her knee on the linoleum floor.  It’s pretty hard to skin your knee on linoleum.  She started crying and saying she broke her knee, and the next thing I knew, there were people around us and someone fetched us bandaids.   She hobbled her way around the rest of the way, but it just seemed to fit the category of crazy-things-that-rarely-happen-while-you’re-shopping.

We also had to go to the dentist to get some cavities filled, (thank you, Grandma for your help!) which added another dose of real-life excitement to our day.  Tucked in there were our everyday messes and tears,

 

along with sweet moments and smiles.

Tomorrow we head to the shore.  Hopefully this time we won’t be plagued with the throw-up bug!  I am really looking forward to no agenda but family.  I was planning on packing tonight, but since I got whisked away by my lover-boy, it can all wait until tomorrow.  Good night.

Running Through The Night and More

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After my last weepy post, I have been blessed by the hugs, reassurances, and reminders of faithful friends all around me.  It is difficult for me to know the balance between honesty and what could come across as, “Pity me, please,” that is so often inundating our lives… or walls.  It is my true hope that I can be real both in life and in writing.  That what you see is what you get.  I have daily struggles, and validating that fact is better than ignoring them.  I want to convey a well-balanced story of my heart and life, without being depressing or making one cock their head and wonder if everything is always perfect.  My life is an open book, and I hope I can be courageous enough to show you not only the beautiful parts of it, but also the difficult and sometimes ugly.  Ultimately, everything points to Jesus, the Author and Perfector of my faith.

This week has been full of spring-time activities.  A long-anticipated visit from an old friend.  Night-time talks on the front porch.  Roses from our garden in full bloom.  Putting a bathing suit on Betty for the first time.

Strawberry picking with the kids.

The boys decked themselves out the other day in this fashion.  Paperclips in their ears, gaudy jewelry, and the usual bling all over Jack.  They love to be tough and strong.  They can also be so gentle and loving.  I am constantly amazed by this sweet balance that both they and their Daddy possess.

Speaking of Matthew… he took me on a date Friday night.  We enjoyed live music at Burlap & Bean, with some delicious coffee and tea.  We had some much-needed time to reconnect and pray together.

Tonight he is running through most of the night in preparation for his ultra-marathon next month.  We will be posting more details about it soon.  I plan on interviewing him myself to answer the many questions poised his way.  In fact, if you have any questions about his goal of running 100 miles in 24 hours, please post them in the comments, and I’ll be sure to add them to the interview!

God painted a beautiful rainbow this evening.  I ran outside in the rain with a cardboard box on my head, squealing at the sight.  I always try to imagine I’m Noah, seeing a rainbow for the first time.  It always works, and I’m amazed every time.  God’s promises will never ever fail.

Purple and Camo: The Perfect Blend

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This morning as we ate crepes there was much drawing going on around the table.  Robots, cats, and flaming arrows (which I innocently thought were flowers).  Elijah asked Elsie how to spell her name.  She began to clearly spell it out for him in a teacher-like voice.  Then she proceeded to tell him, “Elijah, you didn’t do it correct.  Here, let me do it for you.”  He is the type to be able to chuckle to himself at her bossiness, and we exchanged smiles about it.

This weekend there was a father-daughter dance at church.  The girls were decked out in their “wedding dresses” (dresses they wore to Matt’s brother’s wedding) all afternoon.  Yes, Elsie wore a yellow head-band.  One would never know the drama that went on with that decision.  When they came home that night Elsie told me that, “I was only dancing with my feet one time.”  The rest of the time Daddy held her while they danced.  We both realize this will not always be so, so we treasure the small beautiful girl with the high-pitched voice that we sometimes just want to be quiet.  Even though some days the tears seem to come in the quantity to fill a small ocean, we love our precious Elsie Rose who knows how to spell her name and loves everything pink.  And purple.

Then we have our oldest, who didn’t need to be held to meet Daddy’s eyes while they danced.  Her beauty is swiftly unfolding, and it’s frightening and exciting all at once to see her growing up.  When we were driving to church the other day she dramatically yelled from the back seat, “Don’t open the windows!  My earrings are dangly!”  Elijah agreed that they just might fly out.  It was pretty funny.

While the two oldest girls were away, the boys, Betty, and I stayed home.  At the moment I was taking this picture, I was not exactly happy with the mess going on here.  They made strawberry-watermelon juice with every kitchen tool imaginable and I was stepping on sticky juice all night.  Matt left me with a smile that said, “Enjoy them, they’re just being boys.”  After this picture, they hopped in the tub, Betty went to bed, and I made pizza.  Then I introduced the boys to one of my favorite shows as a kid: Knight Rider, and we ate homemade pizza and oohed and aaahed over the coolness of Kit, and there was nothing girly until the purple clad girls came home donning balloons and memories of dancing with Daddy.

Our house is full of the mixture of flowers and flounce, camo and guns.  Gaudy necklaces and hair ties that don’t match, bicycles that make loud noises and robot drawings.  Pretty tea parties and scary bike ramps.  Perfume and stinky feet.  Hello Kitty bandaids covering a scratch and bruised and bloody knees that deflect the stick of  a bandaid.  Once in awhile these two worlds collide, and I catch moments of gentle love between them.  True gentlemen can put aside their macho muscles to gently hug their sisters and tell them how pretty they look.  Strong women can hang on to their femininity while scaling daunting heights and playing in the mud.  When boys and girls live together there are clashes, yes, but there is also a perfect blending of beauty and brawn, sweet and salty, tenderness and toughness.  Sometimes I don’t always appreciate their differences and honestly I sometimes define different as wrong.  Don’t we all?  But having five little personalities surrounding me every day all day long, I realize and must embrace their differences and not try to compare them with others or change them.  They each fill a void that would otherwise be in this world, and together they are the perfect blend.

Dreaming in Horse-Colored Glasses

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So, when the boys play outside, they get their imagination helmets on… or goggles; whichever you prefer.  They have a fort in the backyard, tucked between the alley way fence and the pine trees.  They have it decked out with old car mats (trash-picked from a neighbor) and other special treasures.

Here they stand, on either side of the fence, working on the burglar trap.  Not sure how it works, but Jack is testing its effectiveness.

There is so much to consider and laugh about when building a fort.

Nadine has been taking horseback riding lessons for a few weeks now.  She is in her element while touching any animal, especially horses.  Her teacher is terrific, and Nadine loves to tell us everything she has learned.

Last week we had so much fun watching her in the ring.  Elsie entertained herself by doing things like jumping from heights and picking dandelions.

Betty was thrilled to have her Daddy close-by.

There is nothing cuter than a father-daughter conversation on a bench.  It is exciting to watch them imagine, learn, and enjoy doing what they love to do.  It is so satisfying to do what you have been created to do.  Speaking of, in the near future we have many changes coming to our family… no, I’m not pregnant, and I will share more soon.  For now I must go and do something I’ve been created to do: fold laundry!