Thoughts of a Fire Wife

http://www.gosanangelo.com/videos/detail/fire-w-17th-street

Night before Christmas Eve, promptings of the inner spirit, timely call put into firefighting husband, blaring tones and deep voices fill background of answered phone. Beloved familiar voice stating, "Gotta go. Caught a fire." With "I love you's" exchanged the call ends as quickly as it began. With most of these calls ending in false alarms I think nothing of it. This falls entirely short of being the most combustible city in the US so no more thought was given to it. Life and routine carried on as dinner was prepared, children bathed and eventually put to bed. Realization occurred that it had been hours upon hours since phone call had ended. I fought off concern for the next while and eventually caved in my longing to check on him. Another call was made. Cold darkness had long since settled over our world and gentle freezing rain began to grace the earth with ice. Sounds of massive diesel trucks running....pumping, many male voices beyond, commotion, noise filled phone as husband spoke loudly to be overheard above the activity. "Big fire, cold rain, be awhile" was all I managed to catch. Children still excitedly awake in bed I made my way back to them. With gentle smiles and soft voices 8 smaller sets of hands and 8 bowed heads each prayed for the safety of their daddy and all of the beloved fire crew. The children are dearly loved by all of the guys that work with Brad and in turn our merry little crew is endeared to each of the guys. With childlike faith each prayed and each knew beyond all of life that they were indeed heard by our God, the God who protects and makes everything work together for good. With sweet prayers finished excited chatter filled the room as they talked of fire trucks, fire and what they imagined to be happening.

Heaviness settled upon me as I thought of raging infernos, loss of life, bitter cold, icy rain and all fire husband was enduring while I stood cleaning warm home with candles burning, cats purring and coffee steaming. Mother arrived, sweet friendship, momentary diversion created. More long hours passed before phone finally rang. Babysitting fire, investigating, 2 dead, probably be out there all night, best for me to head onto bed, he'd be home late in the morning. Eventually house fell silent for the night. Buried beneath warm blankets, thick socks covering icy cold feet, hair unleashed onto pillow I prayed my way to sleep. Obsessive thoughts filled my head of husband standing in cold rain, wee early morning hours, feet numb, soaked to skin, weighted, rain soaked bunkergear. So I prayed for continued protection, patience, strength and endurance for him, and every other thing the wife of any firefighter knows.

Admittedly, these days do not come often but when they do my heart still seems to stop beating until he is home again. The ability to breathe seems to evade me at times when I know he is out there and the job is intense. The wrecks he works, the cars that fail to slow, the people that drive and pay these guys no heed as they work next to moving traffic, fueled cars burning on sides of highways, structure fires so intense that firefighters are pulled back as roofs collapse, lives are lost. It happens and he does it all. I know that I am not ever guaranteed another day with him. So I embrace life for what it is today....the present, the moment we live within. And I am thankful for every morning that he returns home to me, pulls me to him and tells me he loves me still.

Breaking Society's Mold

Some say this is a midlife crisis while others have contended that it is merely being on the rebound after such huge emotional trauma while yet others are quite adamant that it is all out immaturity and wanting to rebel against the stereotypical mold that goes along with mothering many children and doing the whole homeschooling, make absolutely everything from scratch, sew your children's clothes, cloth diapering, homemade wetwiping crap. Maybe there is some truth to some of it....maybe alot of truth to all of it. In all honesty, I'm not sure what it is and I really don't even care. I'm of the opinion that it was just plain fun and it was just time to do something lighthearted and out of the ordinary...cause it's just been too long. Shock value seems to be what I thrive off of most in life. And what joy is there in life if it is ever mundane, ever the same, and ever what people expect of you???? How boring life would be to sit around sipping coffee and eating bon bons all day allowing my butt to grow wider by the cookie as my children sit nearby studiously carrying out their assignments. It just isn't reality....probably...hopefully...never will be. I am not that perfect one. My children dig in all kinds of crap and do things that children just do. They drink from the syrup bottle, paint with nail polish, eat grape jelly from the jar, color on the walls with permanent markers, eat Nesquik by the spoonfuls, unroll entire rolls of toilet paper, dump large amounts of unknown items into toilets, put bb's in their ears and gum up their noses, squeeze entire tubes of toothpaste onto cabinets for the thrill of watching it "wiggle" as it flies out. They jump on beds, jump on couches, jump from the windowsills, jump on just about anything, take flying leaps from top bunks to wooden floors, place toys on fans to watch them fly, spray engine starter on the seats of vans, have Cheerio spitting contests, pee in flowerbeds, throw crap onto the roof, use kitchen utensils to dig ditches for tiny tractors and dump trucks and just, in general....live. This is not to say by any stretch of the imagination that these actions go undisciplined or that they are allowed to continue on with them but the point....they do it all. My life is a constant effort of raising, teaching, molding, instructing many little lives. This is a season and I know it more now than I ever have as I have bittersweetly watched my older ones grow much too swiftly. So, I embrace these days of messes and noisy chatter, funny antics and crazily funny things that come from the mouths of children.

Life is not perfect, my children are not perfect and I am at the bottom of the barrel as far as perfection goes. So perhaps this is just an effort to ditch the image that goes with large families and embrace reality. If there is any one comment that I hate the most it's the "you must be a saint!" one. My usual reply, "I am more real and more fallible than you can ever imagine but my children are 8 of my greatest blessings and I thoroughly enjoy them." I hate that people think they cannot do this. I hate that the world views children as such a bother..a disturbance...an absolute drudgery in life.

It all boils down to.....whatever it may be within me that propelled me to do this is not really of any great importance. It was a dare and I have never been one to be challenged without following through. Dear beloved friend and mom to 11 and I were speaking in one of our many phone conversations. Up came the debate of nose piercings and before conversation had ended the dare was on. If I went through with it she would follow suit....or better yet, we'd both set a date. With enough spunk, love of shock value and off-the-wall humor in both of us we both knew the other would indeed fulfill her end of the bargain. So it was that the challenge was on...would we do it? Once I threw the idea out to some to get a general idea of how it would be received and the shocked and appalling comments began I could feel the challenge rising within to prove the world wrong. Who dictates that a 34 year old woman is too old to do such nonsense and who in the crap said it is inappropriate for a mom of 8....or 11.....to do something so odd? Who exactly baked the mold and presumptuously decided what cookie cutter shape I should be forced into???

So...as I do all things in life, I began to educate myself on what I was doing and research every last piece of info I could come up with on nose piercing before committing myself to it. Was it a practice born out of rebellion? What is the history of it all? Why do almost all Hindu women have their nose pierced? What exactly is the point of nose piercing other than to just look good, have some fun and give in to one of husband's greatest desires? As I researched I found that it was not tied to undesirable spiritual rituals and practices but that it surprisingly has Biblical origins and was placed upon women to symbolize the blessings spoken over them concerning their fertility and childbearing years. It is now associated by the world with Hindu and most Arabic religions as their religious beliefs are similar to some of the old testament practices. I also found that women in Israel still practice nose piercing. It was placed on the left side since old medicine associated the left side of a woman's body with fertility. Dear friend also found that Biblically they placed it within the bondservant's nose to identify them. As we talked and discussed our findings we both knew that both of these Biblical practices had great meaning for each of us. Somewhere in the midst of it all it turned from daring joke to being weighted with Spiritual significance and meaning for each of us. So....it was on.

Never mind Aubrey's Farrah Fawcett hair, as she had jumped on the trampoline all day. And she didn't get her 2 front teeth for Christmas.

Entire family found our way to Fort Worth once more for a Saturday of fun and fellowship with dear friends. With younger children deposited at mother's for a day of food and fun older children, Brad and I made our way to a day of jui jitsu tournaments as Brad's best friend competed. Once full day of fighting was over older children were deposited with younger ones and a date night of food and nose piercing began. Admittedly, I didn't fare so well once piercing moment settled upon us. Despite the fact belly button has been pierced for many years and that was easily endured at the time of piercing as nose time approached feelings of uncertainty arose. Puking, passing out and turning around and marching right back out were a few of the many thoughts that floated not so passively through the brain while filling out paperwork. I think the whole puking thing had to be the most prevalent urge. But I figure if I can deliver more than a few children with no pain meds then surely I can survive a few seconds worth of nasal pain. Quitting is nowhere within me and there was no way dear sweet friend was following through and I was not. So it was that I was taken back, laid down on a table..thankfully...and with dear friends and husband watching this little scenario nose ring was officially given. As I tend to do all things pain related I had made it out to be much worse than it really was and with quick, nasal, bee sting pain inflicted it was all over in a second...or two...or really more like three.

Now with both belly and nose pierced I am feeling quite exotic. Though I must admit that after 8 children the whole stomach thing is not really worthy of any such adornment...more than a bit beyond redemption....but at least I try to redeem it. Sweet husband still so desperately in love with me and absolutely everything about me seems oblivious..or at least pretends to be oblivious....to the fact it is far from perfection. He seems to be in love with and filled with respect for the woman and the body that birthed his 8 children. What freedom there is in being loved...for being embraced so wholly....for who I am as a person in every way.

Embracing the Edge

Once again I wake to the darkness. Early morning hours still new to this body of mine. Cold house dark and quiet, smell of coffee finding its way to me as I burrow beneath blankets in my last attempts at protest over rising. Husband's belt jingles softly as he dresses, keys rattle as he stuffs them into pocket, darkness outside window turning to early gray winter day. I lay quiet trying to bring thoughts into some semblance of order in the fogginess of sleep that still remains. He comes to my side, lips brush across forehead as big, warm, calloused hands slip under covers and find me. Soft deep voice whispers, "I love you." Heart of mine still skips a beat at the sound of him, eyes open and I smile, "I love you too." With lips still pressed against head he murmurs, "I shouldn't be too late." I pause my sinking heart, thankful for the work he has. We knew this...we knew it would be like this if we became business owners so I focus on being overwhelmingly grateful for the work he has....for how God is providing over and above everything we have ever known. Instantly he senses my faltering heart. Pressing in even firmer he smiles and says...."I promise." There is much still lingering on my to-do's....things entirely hard to accomplish with him home...so I busy myself with making a mental checklist. As heavy boots attempt to fall quietly down old creaky wooden hallway my thoughts turn to yesterday's events. Backdoor voices protest to being awakened from its overnight dormancy and then clicks quietly into place. I work on facing my fears for another day without him present. Bare feet find cold floor and I force my body into submission as I slip into running gear. Rumble of diesel truck pulling onto dirt road confirms that he is gone. My overly analytical brain turns to trying to make sense out of all of life. There is more....so much more....that we are being called to in this life. I can feel it....I catch glimpses of it at odd moments throughout my day. I am no longer content to just sit in the comfort of the present. I don't want to be that apathetic Christian that just lives quietly in this quiet corner of the world. Maybe it's a midlife crisis. Maybe it's breaking free from the chains of the last half year of our life. Maybe its that I've found throughout all of this that there's just so much more.....that we have not come through all of this for nothing. That this trial by fire is producing something so much greater and bigger than even I can imagine. There is more. I want to be that one out there on the edge. I don't want to be the one that gets stuck in comfort. I see people with so much less than what we have needing hope. 

Rising sun offers no warmth, cold wind hits face and feet find a steady rhythm. My mind finds comfort in the bitter cold, trepidatious heart embracing the solace of quiet winter morning, rocks crunching under foot. Thoughts of life turn to the phone call we received early this week. Seems hospital social worker was required to make a phone call concerning Ivye's ER visit. It was enough to seize the heart and send any given person into panic mode. Constant, steady husband was not nearly of the same opinion and assured my racing heart that all is well. It all seemed to fit right in with the last few months of crap we have been forced to overcome. I was informed that they were reviewing the case and found that it was an injury occurring within the home with only one adult present. Stark ill humored woman asked how many children are within the home, how many have been seen in the ER over the course of the last year, if baby was unattended when the accident occurred, if she has ever been a victim of child abuse/neglect or if she is at the present moment. I thought the tactic of just blatantly asking was a bit odd but....whatever. My mind immediately began procuring images of awfulness of what assumptions she had reached due to my answers. Any kind of eloquence in verbal communication seems to be ever elusive for this tongue of mine. I say things I shouldn't say, fail to voice things that need to be said and inevitably fail pretty miserably in communicating on any given day....quiet, introvert of childhood lingering long into adulthood. So, I run, mind racing even faster, pondering what hospital-woman had assessed given my seemingly inadequate answers. Once again I pour over every last bit of the conversation. 1st half of process and if they saw further need they would begin the 2nd half of phone interviews. Where from there? We never reached that part and I never thought to ask. Fear of state people ringing doorbell float through the head. 

Throughout the last few months I have found that my emotions are volatile and very much at the mercy of any given situation. Outside factors highly influence any sort of inner feelings. So it was that the more she questioned the more irritated I became. I found my patience waning with this nosy, uncaring woman. After being questioned for the thousandth time as to whether she was a victim of our abuse and how the injury occurred I finally stated not so entirely kindly that she was indeed the victim of our waffle syrup bottle that she herself pulled out onto her own toe. Apparently this seems far fetched to most any person so it has the ability to go unbelieved....but I do know that if I was trying to cover anything up I certainly could come up with more convincing stories that have absolutely nothing to do with waffle syrup. We learn later that it was merely hospital protocol to have a hospital social worker follow up any pediatric injury within the home. Nothing ever came of the phone call.

Legs push forward, heart now pumping forcefully and I take comfort in the returning strength of my own body and the force I feel within my legs to power me forward when all of life seems continually upside down. My mind returns to gravel beneath feet and the worries of life are handed over once again to my God who is greater than all of life....who has healed me and made me whole and given me the ability to run and be free.....the confidence to know so deeply within that I no longer have to fear anything...for He is my strength and the rock from which my help comes. I do not fear a hospital social worker. We are not walking this road for nothing at all to come of our life. How can one be expected to live on the edge when you have never learned? I am being taught that I am so much stronger than even I ever imagined. That because I do have the one and only God on earth paving the road we traverse that we are held within His hand and nothing can touch us.....not one of our own children being raped and beaten, not one of our babies being called home before his first breath was ever taken, not a 4 month miscarriage that ended in hemorrhaging and not the the worry of a hospital social worker reviewing an injury and if our children are in imminent danger at the hands of us. I no longer feel defeated or am overwhelmed by this turn of events. At one point shortly after the phone call was received self pity was hard to keep at bay. Immediate thoughts of "why????" and "what now?????" threatened to overtake all of life. Thoughts turned from self pity to the fact this only goes along with everything else we have had to fight off the last half year of our life. But as I began to lay it all down I finally began to see the supernatural strength that is being built within both husband and I. Unwavering husband has no fear of any of this, he knows well protocol hospital is required to follow, which is used to give my own heart strength and peace of mind. 

My body finds comfort in the pain and the growing strength both mentally and physically. I have learned to welcome the pain because in the pain I grow. Body falls into submission as I run and is transformed before my eyes. Mind falls into submission as we continue to trek down this arduous road and is transformed as I learn to think differently and embrace the change....discover who it is I really am, who I am becoming. There are things I know about myself now that have never been developed in my entire 34 years of life. Things that have always been there but just have to be grown and developed. The absolute determination, stubbornness, diligence, passion....it's all there for a very definite purpose. Whatever that purpose is I have yet to discover but I know there is one...there has to be a purpose. Living on this edge....learning to embrace it. I want to be that one that is completely and totally ruined for the ordinary.

Within the Walls of our Home

So I found this on another blog months ago and thought it seemed entirely interesting and a bit fun. I never cease to be intrigued by other people's lives, how they live, where they live and what it all really looks like....the reality of just daily living. So here is a glimpse into our own home where all of the living really takes place. To give a general idea it's 3 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms...with one of those being the original bathroom built in 1930. It is so entirely small that one can actually hang one's feet in the bathtub while using the toilet. And the sink counter actually has a cutout for the door to swing open so that all 3 bathroom necessities fit within the 2 sq ft. So...there's not really any picture taking that can go on in there. But it is usable and has made a great girls' bathroom. At the current moment it is a little out of order due to my growing impatience as I waited for Brad to fix the sink. So....as I am so entirely good at listening and following directions given to me I did exactly what he told me not to do and tried to fix it myself. I must say though that this was after nearly 4 entire months of waiting for him to fix it. So, I drove all of us to the hardware store, found the piece we needed and attempted to take off the u-pipe under the sink and replace it with a new one....along with the pipe that feeds into the wall. It is safe to say that that was by far the nastiest, most disgusting, stinkiest thing I have ever done in my entire life. I did manage to get it off, try to fix the clogged part and then put the new one on. Needless to say.....it's still clogged and now it leaks on top of it all. There's something to be said for listening to your husband and actually heeding what he says. But even after 11 years of marriage I still have a hard time with that. So, the little 3rd bathroom is a bit out of commission right now. But at least I can say I tried.

It's somewhere around 1,900 sq ft or so....a little less I think. But it works very well, is not alot to keep up and we are truly blessed by this little place sitting on 3 acres of land. At some point I'll find the pictures of the outside and post those as well.

The girls' room.....where only Ivye sleeps at the current moment. The plan is to someday paint it all pink but it never seems to happen. As for the gate on the top bunk.....it really serves no purpose at all except for giving the children something to fall through instead of just falling straight to the ground....a little more fun that way, of course.

The main bunk room...black bed top bunk is Grayson's, camo sheeted lower bunk is Garrison and Grant's, single bed complete with child to model it is Aubrey's, red top bunk is Evye's, red lower bunk is Garrett's and Gavin's. And that strip of carpet is the only carpet anywhere within the house. By looking at it you'll understand why we chose all hard floors. Carpet doesn't stand a chance in our home. And for the record....the turquoise walls drive me nuts....but obviously not enough to paint them anytime soon...seeing as how they've been that color for 3 1/2 years.

Our VERY purple bedroom. Once again....the plan is to paint.....someday. I think I have become endeared to our wall decor the most. In the last 3 1/2 years of living here we have spent the majority of our time hanging wall decor, as is so entirely evident. Personally I love the visible box springs. But we tried a dust ruffle and it was exactly that...a DUST ruffle. It's only purpose served to collect dust and act as a magnet for dirty, muddy shoe prints as children used it to scale up the side of the bed. So....as everything else tends to do around here in my minimalistic idea of life....it got tossed.

The other half of the bedroom behind them. Bathroom to the right, closet to the left.



Our dining room...still awaiting the big table. We keep putting it off simply because I love the simplicity of this little tiny one. There are other chairs to it....somewhere. And the lovely little table cloth was sprayed and wiped down with bleach oneday. But hey....it's clean. And as for the bookshelf...well, those boxes stacked neatly beneath it are the boxes of tile still waiting to adorn the top of it. But after having bought the tile I then discovered how very much I hate tile countertops and the bacteria infested crevices so changed my mind to doing it in Formica...you know, the cheap granite substitute. But, as you can see, that hasn't exactly happened yet either.






The living area....complete with duct taped window.

Looking from the kitchen to the living area

Kitchen....yep, there's dishes......there's pretty much never not dishes but since I no longer do them as long as there's just a few in there I'm completely ok with that. And the floor needs to be mopped so I suggest you don't enlarge this picture. But you get the general idea. And well...as far as all of the crap on top of the frig....egg cartons for the 50 million eggs coming in each day and a huge container of homemade hot chocolate that must stay up there so we don't have eager little boys eating it by the spoonfuls, and then cereal that is up there to avoid being emptied all over the floor due to being pulled out of the drawer by a little 13 month old girl. There's also some 13x9 in foil pans that are still around after vacation in Sept. Lovely. But in general...despite what the top of the frig looks like....we really are pretty uncluttered.


The boys' bathroom...yet another room on the overhaul list...someday. And the children had to fold clothes before I could take pics of the living area so in the mirror is clearly visible the clothes folding process. And that white stuff on the front of the black cabinets....yep, it's toothpaste.

The workroom of the house...yet again, we will someday paint. This room will be the neon one of the house. I figure if you have to do wash you might as well have fun while you're doing it so color is a necessity....more specifically bright, bold alarming colors.

As promised long ago....here are finally some pictures of the everybody closet. And I can honestly say it looks like this 99% of the time. It is so well organized that it rarely becomes messy. Little ones have everything needed within reach and it is easy enough for them to participate in maintaining the organization aspect. For the very many of you that have asked as to how we have organized it all, here it all is as grouped.

Baskets on floor from left to right: Grayson's shoe basket, the girls' shoe basket, the little boys' shoe basket and then square blue dirty clothes basket that is emptied at the end of each day.

Bottom shelf from left to right: Grayson's jean basket, girls' jeans and skirt basket, little boys' jean basket, little boys' shorts basket.

2nd shelf up: my pants, my shirts, Brad's jeans and then Brad's jeans again.

3rd shelf up left to right: bed sheets, little boys' pajamas and underwear, little boys' nice boots, baby blankets and sheets.

4th shelf up from left to right: arts and crafts hairbow making stuff, more bed sheets, misc catch all, and then ammo.

Top shelf: sleeping bags and extra blankets.

Right side of hanging: my clothes and all girls' clothes

Left side of lower hanging: Brad's shirt, Grayson's shirts and little boys' overalls

Left side upper hanging: little boys' shirt

As for the plastic see through drawers

1st set of drawers: Ivye's stuff - hairbows, socks, pj's and stuff

2nd set of drawers: top Evye's gowns and personal clothing

middle - Aubrey's gowns and personal clothing

lower - all girls' socks

3rd set of drawers: top - Grayson's underclothing and sleep pants

middle - Grayson's shorts and swimsuits

lower - all boys' socks

Picture Imperfect

So we all decided we were in love with Grant in this picture. I think the look on his face compliments his black eye fairly well.

As of this moment there are a thousand other things I should be doing. But, for whatever reason, the urge hit and I no longer find anything clean enough......so I've scrubbed floors and the bases of toilets all day long....along with reorganizing every cabinet and changing the sheets on every bed in the house. So, in an effort to relieve the aching feet, sore knees and butt I am procrastinating as I sit and wait for the dinner hour to pass...as if maybe in some far away land the hour will altogether go away and my children won't notice. As of yet that has yet to happen in life and the children start asking for food 2 hours before it's ever supposed to arrive. I think we've pretty well already established that I'm not so great at the whole fixing a meal thing so, having prepared ahead like I usually do, I've decided premade frozen waffles are on the dinner menu. Meaning, I can sit here for another 30 minutes before I must actually do something else. Due to it being a city council night and Brad going straight from work to being Mr. upstanding citizen of the town we can actually get away with meals such as frozen waffles on a fairly regular basis. I have no room for complaints though seeing as how he is perfectly happy with the frozen waffle agenda as are each of the children each and every time I do this......which, dare I say, is often.




Yesterday was Santa day at the station so the children and I gravitated up there to meet Brad and hang out for awhile. We set off for the park after Santa made his departure. I figured as long as they were all presentable we'd go and see what pics we could do ourselves. I never did get around to getting everybody matching clothes this year so they just coordinated......kind of. Since Evye puked in the middle of the station floor last year when we did Santa I suppose it was only fitting for Garrett to run fever all day this year. We haven't had anybody sick since returning home from vacation with the swine flu so this came out of nowhere and has seemed to affect no one but him for now. So, he's looking rather thrilled while trying to do Christmas pics with a fever.

Having rock climbing competitions after the pics were done

Hangin' out



Pretty Aubrey-girl

If her back was straight it would've been pretty perfect


How can anyone not love them????

Her profile looks exactly like my profile!

....it must be so great to be a boy


Looking just like Evye's profile! Grayson playing with the camera. Some of the pictures that turn up on our camera are entirely interesting....this happened to be one of them. I didn't think it was too bad though...despite the fact there's no real smile.

An all girl shot

Rock climbing some more

......so the boys all fit

.....and the girls all fit

....but not everybody fit. Trying for 5 entire minutes to get everybody on. We managed to a couple of years ago but it just wasn't happening this year....as is comically obvious. Gavin freaked out and fell off so this is what we ended up with. He had been in front of Garrett but what you can't see is him now laying on the ground beneath the feet of the sheep. I think it's official that we've graduated up to wienie dog or hippo sized animals.

Animals we found on vacation in Sept that will actually accommodate everybody. We safely have room for about 10 more kids on this one.

I found this hippo to be perfectly sized. Actually, I'm thinking we can fit 1 or 2 more.

Evye's pretty done by this point, Gavin's lost interest and Garrett just wants his bed. But it was about the one and only shot where Ivye was actually looking!

Cooperation at its finest

The boys

Playing around while the van fills up...which takes at least 10 minutes.

The girls

More gas pics

And still more. The inevitable way to crack everybody up when we're all tired of waiting.

The joy of little boy feet

Finally enough hair to have 2!!!!

Still trying for the ever elusive shot where everybody's actually facing the same direction....it never did happen. But we managed to have some fun seeing what we could get.

My sweet boy

Here we go again with Grant