I cried for Grayson, our entirely intelligent, absolutely beautiful first born, the dear experimental one that has to put up with our fallacies as we learn how to parent each new step of the way. I cried for what the little ones have been given that Grayson has never had due to always trying to figure out where we are with him in each new stage of the game. We are so alike but so very different. I see myself and Brad in him at every turn of each and every new day. The driven-ness, the persistence that is enough to drive one insane, the stout heartedness but the oh so soft tender areas of mercy in his loving heart. His constant need to have something worthwhile to do is so like myself yet his constant and never ending onslaught of words I find to be my biggest source of irritation most days since I don't see much use in talking things to death, or really talking at all. There is a time to be quiet and somehow that part of life never got wired into him. It is my job to teach him that yet how in the world do I ever do it when my irritation is so much at the forefront of dealing with him day after day after day. Does he even begin to know the depth and breadth and height of just how very much I love him??? Have I stayed so frustrated that I have run him off?
It was time to play Barber again.....our crew of clean cut boys. Nothing quite like just going down the line of them.
My heart is crushed at times over the weight of what I have the potential as a parent to do to my very own children, the very people I love the most in life. I look in the mirror and am disheartened and frustrated by the 35 extra pounds I have added since our wedding day...despite the fact that I am now 25 wks pregnant. I find that I am filled with disgust at what I see staring back at me, with the exception of the perfectly rounded little baby bump that is perfect in every way. But then the fear comes of being able to lose it all once she finally arrives. I don't want to be the wife that Brad embraces and the mom the girls look up to that is infinitely 30 or 40 pds overweight.
So....I pray. I pray for wisdom as we journey down this parenting road, that our children will not only survive but thrive despite our setbacks as parents. I cannot help but be reminded of the verse in Is. 54, "And all of your children shall be taught of the Lord, and great shall be the peace of your children." I read an article recently that brought this very much home for me. It does not say that they will be taught ABOUT the Lord and great shall be their peace. It says they shall be taught OF the Lord. In other words, He will be their teacher. This excerpt came from that Above Rubies article.
"The Lord gently chided me. He impressed on my heart that He would bless my children and they would grow up godly, not because I was such a great teacher, but because of His mercy and blessings on our family...........I am well aware of my inadequacy to teach my children everything they need to succeed. However, I don't despair, because over the years the Lord has proved to me that He is the teacher of my children and provider of all of their needs."
It seems such a simple thought, such simple basic knowledge. But to the mothering heart that at times feels as though the weight of the world is on my shoulders it is not only enlightening but comforting in every sense of the word. It is the continued knowledge that if He has called me to this He will get me through this. He will indeed show Himself faithful and He will not let our children go just due to our own mortal, sinful and floundering ways. We trust Him in every way and as we rely on His guidance and mess up time and time again He is there not only still loving us but loving our children....HIS children, the very ones He has created.....and raising all of them. We are here as their examples, their mentors, their guardians. But ultimately He is the one teaching, instructing and molding them into who He has created them to be and calling them into their purpose here. Surely we are responsible as their parents but as we trust and rely on Him to get us through these days He is the one giving us the strength and determination to continue on even during the heaviness that some days, and even weeks, can bring. I was moved beyond words by this one blog entry from A Holy Experience blog. How much this blog speaks my heart each day. I am so encouraged to keep going on the days when I think I cannot just pick up and go on. The days I want to lay in bed and wallow in self pity over how I have messed things up detrimentally and beyond fixing. This sums up the very cry of my heart this past week. What it is to read these things and know that I am not the only one messing up, screwing up, speaking too harshly and setting an example that falls way too short on some days. Oh how dearly much I love them but oh how deeply I can fall so short and how far the fall can be.
Bedtime rowdies
So, I pray for Brad as he searches out his own heart, that he can walk into his own and be completely free to experience life to its very fullest in relationships around him. I pray for the strength and determination to lose this weight after sweet Ivye makes her debut. But most of all not only do I pray but I trust implicitly that this is all part of the journey that helps Brad and I become what we are to be in life. That these are the things that help shape and mold me into what I am ultimately to become.
How you know Aubrey's been in the kitchen and what she's been into...these were short lived ingredients that we used to make the granola bars with. She actually used the hairbows to fasten the bag back up. Sneaky? Um, no. Funny? Hysterically.
So...more on the nothing sacred note. In addition to the heaviness that seemed to loom over the past week or so Brad and I were roused from our afternoon conversation by everyone proclaiming excitedly that Grant broke a window. And they weren't exactly exaggerating on that end either. Apparently he somewhere found the need within himself to funlovingly chunk a toy across the room. The result was the toy cell phone hitting the window with such force that indeed had quite the effect of a rock flying through it. Since we have first hand experience with rocks flying through windows it seems the only fitting thing to compare it too....and one that very much had the same result. This would be in the same room that only mere months ago Aubrey took a fan blade out. She, in all of her Aubrey ways, decided to shake her flip flop off instead of just calmly removing it. Upon violently shaking it off in happy Aubrey oblivion it flung it up into the blades of the fan which then in turn flung it into the realms of space itself. I don't think I've ever seen a flip flop so jet propelled as that one was. After hitting and ricocheting off of everything nearby down came the flip flop along with one of the fan blades. It was bent up so badly that an entirely new fan had to be purchased. After finally replacing it Grant now sees fit to shoot the cell phone through the window. The chip that I had hoped it would be turned out to be an all out hole in the window. The picture showcases the hole but doesn't quite do the splintering of the window justice. It continues on up past what the picture portrays.
Then only a mere 24 hrs after the arrival of Oregano the fish Aubrey could not help herself and stuck her entire arm in there with him to try and "love" him. I suppose it wouldn't have been such an issue if she hadn't had peanut butter and honey pasted to every square inch of herself. So, it was that Oregano got fed peanut butter and honey, water logged crumbs. He seemed to enjoy them and, miraculously, he lived through both eating and digesting his new meal and surviving Aubrey's love encounter. But since he is Grayson's fish it was his job to clean the fish's now very foggy, thick water. While doing that the glass jar that had become the fish's home gave way and, to contribute to the week, it shattered into a million little pieces. Project #104 in addition to the overloaded brain and emotions.
The before home
We made tons more baby food and Garrett saw fit to eat every last bit of the plums. He gave a new meaning to detox and letting plums take their natural toll on the body. I don't think he will need to poop for at least another month now. But, in my exhaustion, more messes.....plums on the floor, in the bottom of the frig and well digested within the diaper. It didn't help that while making baby food I made everybody smoothies made with all of the fruit and veggies. So, wiping butts has not been a foreign topic to me within the last 24 hrs.
Along the mess topic of things I think I failed to mention that I had no clue a 5 year old could eat an entire gallon of pickles in one day. She was kind enough to pass them out in her generosity which led to more messes. I continually went in to find the jar still sitting in its rightful place in the frig with the lid placed neatly beside the jar and the frig wreaking of pickles. Not only does the frig still smell like it but the floor resembles what it must be like walking on sticky fly traps and aromatically freshens up the house like a candle that could be appropriately deemed "Pickle a la carte". Usually sweet smelling kisses given by the sweet breath of childhood now smell ghastly and appallingly like pickles. The sweet faces that smile and the little hands that carress my face smell atrocious as they breathe out something akin to pickled dragon fire. More messes to add to a day's frustration. And more of me missing the bigger picture. The simple fact that we have pickles for them to eat.
And did I bring up how many times a week I clean up Lake Superior in the bathroom floor. Frustration mounted, as it is an every night occurance, as I tell them to contain it within the 4 walls of the tub. And every night I walk in....or actually dive in......to the sea that awaits. Minor things really but after fighting them one after another after another along with being emotionally and physically exhausted it wears on one and tries the very most inner parts of the being. Instead of seeing my children and the clean sweet smelling little naked bodies running around I see new floors and the water seeping under and ruining what we just had done. Where did the joy go?Where did the desire for constructive reproof go and when did it turn into this ugly thing now rearing its head in total irritation over something so trivial and something so minor as another wet floor that can be mopped up with towels....by a cheerful little clean up crew, no less. And again, guilt creeps in and a deep conviction sets in over what I have the power to do and the mood that I alone set for this house. The water is merely just a mess. It's just a house. It's just a muddy trail from the backdoor to the bathroom. It's just something that can be dealt with. I have each and every one of my children here with me. They are all incredibly healthy. They all have a clean warm bed to be tucked into and a life so full that it overflows with the blessings we have been given. I have food to feed to them , to nourish them, and clean running water for them to drink, brush their teeth and bathe in. We have electricity so that we do not die in the heat of a TX summer and we have indoor plumbing so that we are not having to use ditches or even running out in the heat and trying to work around the spiders and everything creepy crawly and stinch that goes along with no indoor toilets. We are exceedingly blessed with the most simple of things that make life good in every way. Still I moan and groan and gripe and have hard days and think of how much I have to overcome in my simple and very blessed life. And again, I am made aware that I complicate life in ways that are never meant to be complicated. As I cuss and mutter that there is nothing sacred in this house and that each day is just a waiting game to see what else will be devoured, broken or ruined I am filled with sudden remorse and a tightening of my chest at my own attitude and what stares back at me in the reflection of my own heart. The lake that fills the bathroom floor for the 5th night in a row is nothing more than an opportunity for simple correction and to teach them clean up skills. It did not have to be the "last straw" that I turned it into. It is not the end of the world. It is not even a small catastrophe. It is the sign that I have healthy thriving children that love water and that are capable of playing and knowing the joy of a bathtub with warm water and clean bodies. And again I muddled the whole affair and hollered at them in frustration as they bent their heads and walked away quietly to bed as I myself sopped up the water logged floor alone in my anger. Again, my heart hurts, my throat burns and my heart cries out "Oh, God...somehow be here. Be in me."
Longed for, welcomed, hurricane force rain........and mud loving boys
Then the crowning blow came this morning when poor tiny Shotgun failed to survive the powerful playful jaws of Athena. I found myself so in love with them and so taken with them that I caught myself yesterday silently hoping that nothing happened to these 2 little balls of fluff and fur. But I suppose it was a little inevitable, though we all just had to test the waters and figure all things out the hard way...myself included. Grant sounded the alarm that Garrett had opened the gate and we needed to tell Athena not to bite kitty. I knew it was probably too late....and it was. We all arrived on the scene to see his totally tiny and limp little body laying in the grass. He was still alive but not for long. In an effort to give it one last shot since there was no blood visible I thought maybe he was just traumatized. I gently picked him up and brought him in to bathe him and get the grass and dirt off of him. He tried meeowing over and over but no sound emerged. Things weren't looking so good. I wrapped him in a towel and he died in my arms. Aubrey took it the very hardest, sobbing uncontrollably. She took to throwing rocks at Athena in her anger telling her that she hated her and that she was a mean mean dog. I'm not sure what was worse....the assault on Shotgun or having to take Bullet back. We all came to the realization that Bullet must go. It was just cheating death...or rather, playing with it seeing just how long it could be avoided. It was unfair to keep the other one here when he was already going into panic mode over not being able to find his buddy and then it only being a matter of a day or so before Athena got ahold of him too. So, we laid little Shotgun in a shoe box and Grayson dug his grave and made a cross. We buried him under the old mesquite tree the swings hang from. Then Grayson and Evye headed tearfully off with Bullet in their arms to return him to his mother and other litter mates. His mother gladly welcomed him home, licking him and smothering him profusely and he ran off with the other kittens, glad to be reunited with his own kind. Evye sobbed her way home as Grayson just got madder and madder at the coulda, woulda, shouldas.
So, that became the household topic for the rest of the day with Grant clarifying every time the subject was brought up that Shotgun died but that he didn't throw him and that Athena bites hard, hard, hard. So, our kitten endeavors didn't go so well either. More heartache. More life lessons, I suppose. More learning at a very early age that death is very much a part of life. They seem to bounce back quicker and quicker each time though and for that I am grateful. Tigger was I think the very hardest, rivaled only by the death of Flop and her gory, blood drenched death. But Tigger was by far the closest to the heart and still the most dearly missed and still talked about. But in the end, it's still just an animal and life does indeed go on. Lessons I'm not sure I ever really grasped early in life. Note to self....do not get attached to the chickens. The ones that the book has stated that 25% will die off in the early beginnings and the very ones that will eventually be on the dinner table.
What the smallest, hard at play little boys are capable of. A 2 year old and a 13 month old are not very good at picking it all up just yet either. That's where the now 3 year olds come into their active chore duty role! Notice the extended arm generously offering the 4 wheeler to Gavin.
In an effort to cheer everyone yesterday from my intense mood we took off for the lake and Grayson counted no less than 42 deer. He grew tired and quit when reaching that number. The little fawns were numerous. It was an incredible sight. We saw one still so very little it looked as though it was only a few days old. Tiny and carefully guarded by its mother. We saw some older ones too and then some that already had budding antlers.
Then today after having to survive the morning's disaster I made coookies. After having made traditional chocolate chips, a rare and special event just not 3 days ago, I decided that if they were to have cookies again I would do a cookie makeover and improve them healthwise. So I ended up switching out the butter for expeller pressed coconut oil, the refined sugar for Rapadura, farm fresh eggs from Nanny's and Pawpaw's and then freshly ground whole wheat flour for white bleached and processed flour. I added 2 tsp of pure organic vanilla and then a tsp of pure essential orange oil to flavor them and detract from the whole wheat taste. I think I proved within an hour that children will eat anything if its sweet. I did end up sprinklling them lightly with powdered sugar to sweeten them since they were not quite as sweet as we all expected. THe powdered sugar was so light that it didn't make me much difference if it was on there and it improved them enough to make them pretty perfect. The children loved them and I felt great that I had made a healthy version of a cookie.
We then tackled the protein packed peanut butter balls that I grew up eating and that are still just as healthy and fun as ever. The children can make them easily. We tried this recipe today from www.allrecipes.com and it turned out so great. I used homemade granola instead of the bran cereal and added dried cranberries instead of raisins since I'm not much of a raisins fan, though the children love them and eat them as afternoon snacks. I figured as long as we were making them I wanted to enjoy them too. We usually just do the peanut butter, powdered milk and honey but I figured we'd play around with it after I discovered this recipe.
Peanut Butter Balls
2 1/2 cups whole bran cereal (I subbed homemade granola)
2 cups powdered milk
1 1/2 cups raisins (I subbed dried cranberries)
3/4 cup honey (I used raw local honey)
DIRECTIONS
In a large bowl, mix together the peanut butter, bran cereal, powdered milk, raisins and honey using your hands or a wooden spoon. Roll dough into walnut sized balls. Refrigerate until serving.
The Heavenly Sugar Cookie Recipe
And as long as I'm listing recipes out I had someone email and request the homemade granola recipe. So, here it is! With wonderful thanks to the Zesch's and their wonderful cooking when we go to the retreats every Feb. This is not the soft chewy granola bar recipe we have made but the crispy cereal kind we just tried making. It too was a huge success and there is no end at all as to what you can add to it or tweak to your own liking.
Homemade Granola
Chewy Granola Bars
2 comments:
Nikki,
I have never commented on your blog much less taken a whole lot of time to read it. I had some time tonite and so I logged on after about a thousand tries to remember my flippin password. But I have to say when I read your most recent entry... I cried for you and for me. And then and overwhelming feeling came over me to pray for you. I wanted to pick up the phone to call you immediately only to realize it was way too late. My need to talk to you was almost more than I could handle. Nikki, I could have written those same thoughts down. You write beautifully and accurately and pegged every nail on the head in my wicked maternal heart. You have to know you are not alone. You have blessed me with this entry. Oh I pray and agonize every day that the Lord will protect my little blessing with feet from me. The fighting is the worst and I have come to the point where I don't care to referee anymore I just want it to stop and I will scream, yell and fire words that I know were not in the Garden of Eden. After reading your blog Nikki, I now know more than ever that we are sisters in identical struggles. Thank you so much for your honesty. I will call you soon as you have been on my heart a lot lately. I wish we lived closer together. I have a feeling we would be inseparable. Much love and prayers, Thea -
Oh, Nikki, please know that you are not alone and that you've just written a page in my life too. It is my prayer that we are our hardest judge. The Lord knows our hearts and our minds and our unseen efforts. He loves us and feels our inner post joy and pain. With his help dear friend, we will not fail. Our children will know and love Him, just as we do.
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