4,357 Square Feet

......is a ton of house. I think I've always dreamed of a home with 4,357 square feet...fantasized actually....and the thought of having the ability to spread out that much was absolutely awe inspiring to me. I looked at families who possessed so much as being blessed and possessing measures of sanity I do not currently possess.

These pics were all taken of our outing the other day when we escaped to the deer lease at the end of our street.

So...house. It's a ton of it. The opportunity has been presented to us to rent a house of this magnitude on 6 amazing acres. Ironically, it sits almost directly behind our current home. Cleared play area, forested areas for trapping, creek running through property. No other houses in view...tucked away...a little jewel nestled among city life and neighboring homes. North Carolina is a little odd like that. We are in the suburbs surrounded by homes and people yet at the end of our dead end road 50 uncleared acres sit that is actually a hunting lease...in the middle of the neighborhood. In hunting season it is entirely possible to hear gun shots on a regular basis. And in the midst of the neighborhoods and clumped together housing there sits a house buried in the woods on 6 private acres behind us. Little strange. The house has 4 massive bedrooms, 4 huge bathrooms, a master bedroom with 2 entirely separate bathrooms...each with their own shower and one that also sports a huge jetted tub. It has a massive walk-in closet in each of the 4 bedrooms, and another open loft area with built in desks. Entire house is wood floors except for bedrooms. Kitchen boasts double ovens and enough counter space to feed an army. Refrigerator/freezer is massive enough to contain enough food for a month and dishwasher is so massive it is entirely possible to clean up entire meal in one load after feeding the masses. Basement includes a 3 car garage space and a separate apartment for visiting family....complete with it's own kitchenette. Deck stretches around entire back of house and underneath are spaces for vehicles as big as our's to pull up underneath when it rains...as neither will fit into garage. Dining space would fit our table, living area has corner fireplace. And buried within the house are secret tunnels and hideouts for children that connect to bedroom closets. It's a dream, really.

And we have been presented the opportunity to rent it for only 200.00 more a month than our current rent. We met realtor at potential home...great debate over whether to take all children or leave them behind and let them eventually discover the fact that 10 of them exist. We finally decided that it was better to meet them all in person instead of suffering from shock seeing a number on a page...or owner being told about them all. We all filed in on a cold rainy day and by the end of house tour absolute awe of children pervaded and a deep respect of our family by realtor....and we were given the opportunity to move. But what should have been absolute awe on husband's and my part was surprisingly halted by trepidation. What I thought had always been my dream was suddenly very sobering and not very dreamy at all when faced with the reality of it. Husband and I both entertained great concern over the expense of heating and cooling a space that massive....running on nothing but electric. Water heater is huge....a weakness of mine as huge as the wood floors....but all is cooled and heated by electric. And the responsibility of keeping clean a place that large is more than a little bit daunting. And, in all reality...I love our freedom from large space bondage. 4 huge bathrooms to keep clean, 4 massive bedrooms to vacuum and maintain, huge kitchen and living areas...floors needing continual sweeping from leafy carnage and sticky red mud. Stairs....3 different flights of them...to keep swept and clean. And for the first time in life the thought of that much space was seriously scary. Reality sets in of how easy life is to maintain and keep under control right now. Children each have daily duties, rooms are kept up and picked up, beds made, laundry done, kitchen clean, floors maintained. Life is simple and pretty easy. Chores are accomplished in minimal time and kids are free to live, play, bike, roll around in mud for hours, and climb trees. Chores and house responsibilities do not keep anyone in bondage. In about 15-20 minutes we can have the entire house suitable and ready for a visitor....clean bathrooms included.

Upon walking through a house that size I suddenly realized that what has always been an amazing fantasy to me was not anything I had cracked it up to be. And I am truly content with our little 1500 sq ft of space. It fits us and meets our needs...nothing more...nothing less. In all reality I have realized that we probably could get away with even less than we have now. As I pondered this fact I also realized that we have consistently downsized as our family has grown...such a paradox to traditional American culture. People assume the more people the more that is required. When we had only 3 children and our family expanded to 6 we lived in a 2,000 sq ft home. From 6-10 children we lived happily in 1800 sq ft and now nearing 13 of us we occupy 1500 sq ft. All of our homes have been 3 bedrooms and we downsized from 3 bathrooms to 2 in this last move. ...and in the midst of it all have unexpectedly learned to live with only 1 working toilet the majority of the time. Suddenly I realized how much I love our little home....the minimal cost of utilities, the ease of keeping it all clean and organized, the necessity of maintaining organization that it requires...it forces one to stay minimal and maintain a system. In some odd way it's a strange source of accountability. I realize how much is really not needed in life. I love having them all with me, knowing where they are at all times, being together as a family instead of spread out over thousands of square feet. Firefighting husband made the comment once long ago that the smaller stations had a unity and a family mentality that the bigger stations do not possess. He surmised that it was mostly due to the fact that they are together almost every waking moment..eating, cooking, reading newspapers, watching movies...not many places to go within the small space...and when space is needed they retreat to their beds. So it is in a home I think....when space is so limited with many people everything is done together and there is a unity that exists..a happiness to reside in each other's company and companionship...that would not exist in larger spaces where each man is more to himself.

We have our one fenced acre and kids utilize every square inch...climbing trees, creating bike tracks and mounds to jump, digging holes, unearthing hidden treasures....such as vintage 2009 glass coke bottles. They gaze in awe and pick bouquets of now blooming flowers, and take turns burying themselves in 5 feet of fallen leaves. Babies are safe and can play with the bigger kids now and they all live inside, outside and everywhere in between. There is no wasted space.

I know at some point we will find a perfect little home here. Something like what we gave up there....perhaps even better. 20 secluded acres with a running stream, stocked tank, deer blinds, cleared pastures, wooded hills and a perfectly sized homey little house. Something like this little dream. Even the yellow walls remind me of home and the 7 acres feels like home. Or something like this, a diamond in the rough that we could conquer and bring to life. But, for now, we thanked them for the generous offer on such an amazing and massive home and how they loved our children.....and we walked away from 4,357 sq feet of house. Because of it all I realize how amazing it is to be where we are, have what we have been given, and know life like we do right now. Bigger is not always better. To whom much is given much is indeed required. I'd much rather spend my time loving on kids and enjoying them instead of barking out orders like a continual drill sergeant over the state our house is in...or having to learn to live with the mess to make it all tolerable. I am growing seriously content with what we have been given. I am completely happy knowing the money we are saving in not having outrageous utility bills. Spring is here, daffodils bloom, trees are beginning to come to life. I am content with what we have been given and the gifts lavished upon us....as unassuming as they seem. Gifts that come in surprising little packages....like a little house on a fenced acre.

The reasonable little maintainable home. Reminds me of home....but with water!

And a random pic in the midst of them all. Today's tiny splurge....just in case it's a girl. I so like having Once Upon A Child entirely accessible to us. Brand name clothes...for 2.50!

To Run with Endurance

Endurance. It's continually come to mind over and again throughout these last few months...and more specifically, over the course of the last few weeks, as my resolve has wavered a bit. As birth of baby draws near my mind once again turns to running, birthing, the longing to be light again and the reality of really truly getting back into a running routine. And, as always, to survive the first little while after taking such an extended break takes mental determination, stamina, strength, and power to overcome the screaming of mind and body to cease all discomfort. So it is with giving birth....except you're a little more committed on that one. There is no opting out of that little scenario. But I have learned over time that it takes an amazing feat of endurance to overcome most of what life entails...whether it be running, birthing, or just making it through some of the seasons in life that come. So it is that I run...or give birth, I survive the discomfort, I wage war with mind and body, I overcome self......because I know the reward that waits on the other side of it all.

And so it is with this season in life. The longer we are here, faced with the challenges now presented to us, the more I hear the word "endurance" softly whispered into a restless heart. I decided it best to stay quiet on here for awhile until mind and heart strengthened. Weak heart finally able to face a blank page without tears falling, self pity consuming....and asking the constant unceasing why's of where we are and the timing of it all.

In the midst of everything else taking place phone call was received late one night as husband and I lay in bed. His grandmother, who helped raise him and which I fell immediately in love with so many years ago, suffered another massive stroke. After months and months of fragile stability in health we get here, are 5 days away from him beginning a new job, 14 days away from a baby's due date, and the prognosis for her is suddenly grim. Unresponsive..not much longer...maybe a week. Next day brings more details of her swiftly diminishing health, TX home officially goes on the market....and so many more tears....trying to imagine life without her in it....thinking of children who will have sweet memories of her amazing love and those who will only know her as a legacy.

We plan and try every way possible to make it home immediately to be with them, to attend the funeral, to be with family, but realization comes for both husband and I that it is rather humanly impossible at this point. Unable to miss any days of academy, it begins in mere days, a week long road trip on my own with children while he flies in order to avoid missing work days, on my own on the road...on my due date. Not really optimal. Our tears mix as we attempt to come to terms with the possible and impossible. And yet once more I wonder why and ask the now redundant question over and again. Why now....after so many years of being near to them, why right at this very time of baby and academy and piled atop everything else we are facing right now. Emotions of selling home and the remainder of what we are having to conquer. Why now? Why her? So individually and together husband and I grieve the loss of someone who loved so unconditionally, who embraced each and every one of our children, who loved them beyond life itself, who embraced each and every new baby...when all the world cringed at the news of another. Someone who loved me like I had been born to them...when eagerly greeted us at the door each and every visit held my face between old, wrinkly hands and repeated over and again "You're so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Brad did so good in bringing you home to us" and her eyes would well with tears. Why...after so many years spent loving them...are we not even allowed to attend the finality of it all....a tribute to everything she was. I just don't understand in so many ways. It could've taken place just 5 weeks from now and this would be completely different. The Lord could've orchestrated it all so much differently....but He didn't.

Yet again I grow so weary of the tears....and now husband's weighted sighs and tears of his own that fall. In an effort to escape it all he and oldest strap babies on, we round up kids and lose ourselves in the 50 acres of forest that sits at the end of our gravel road. We disappear for awhile and remember every reason we came to this place.....deer trails, running streams, acres and acres of towering trees, moss covered oaks, wild ferns that do not exist where cactus grow, and the deafening sounds of the wind in the treetops....children running...laughing..through the forest, echoes of their joy as they climb, leap, jump, run and gather foreign species of objects in utter delight. And we smile to each other as we walk amidst the pain because we are together, we are a family, we are here, and it's a pretty amazing place to be in life...despite everything we have faced in the last 6 months and everything still left to overcome.....and the grief felt between us.

With renewed determination I dry the tears and quiet the inner strife. I am learning what it is to run with endurance and push past the discomfort that screams for an easier way...or opts to quit. I am not a quitter. I refuse to succumb to it all and just go home...take the easy way out. We could go home now. Concerned husband has asked over and again as he watches the emotional struggle taking place within...."Do you want to go home....cause I'll take you back in a heartbeat if that's where you want to be. There's two of us in this marriage and it's not all about what I want. And if you're happier there I will take you home and we'll figure life out from there. Just say the word and we'll go back." But I know that it's not about my own selfish desires and getting rid of the discomfort. There's more to life than being comfortable and taking the easy way out. How can one ever really truly appreciate it if they haven't had to survive the discomfort of getting there? And so I learn what it is to grow my endurance as the Lord stretches and molds and shapes far beyond the comfort zone.

In other news....it doesn't help trying to deal with all of life when one is in a constant state of pain.....and I mean...serious, incapacitating pain. I have noticed that it kinda hinders the ability to rationally deal with the rest of life and emotions. But....we weren't far off on the cracked rib diagnosis, as it was finally determined to be an intercostal injury.....from the bronchitis stuff. It's been explained that it's basically just a stretched rib muscle.....but to say that it's painful doesn't even begin to come close to accurately conveying living with it. When breathing hurts I find it affects all of life at that point. So orders were give not to pick up babies or lift anything in order to help it heal. And there are exercises one most do in order to keep it stretched out since it has something to do with lung capacity. And that just hurts a little bit...to try and purposefully breathe deep when even taking little breaths hurt. Bed rest, not lifting and restricted activity is somewhat of a joke so that hasn't really taken place as of yet. Although, I can't say I find that entirely bad at this point since activity requires one to breathe a little more than laying in a bed all day would require. No one can actually give a length of time before it improves so the thought of giving birth like this is a little daunting. Being this close to baby's due date all Motrin had to be laid aside....and Tylenol alone doesn't even begin to come close to being of any use. With husband's prompting I finally resorted to prescription stuff in order to at least be able to sleep at night. Kind of hoping for a late baby at this point just to give it time to heal. 41 weeks is not a bad thing. So, that's been a little interesting obstacle to overcome in the midst of the everything else taking place.

So, that is the seemingly unemotional account of our life right now. I've found that it's either write through tears or embrace the removed practical aspect of it that begins to form after awhile....and I've reached the practical, removed stage. At some point I'll get my sense of humor back and life will find a normal here. It doesn't exactly help that I'm doped up on pain meds right now so the ability to think and write at this point is not entirely prevalent. Firefighting/paramedic husband starts job in just one day. After 6 months of being together constantly we resume a schedule in life. While days are lonely without him, it will be much easier to maintain the school routine and perhaps blogging more regularly will resume.

On yet another side note...camera was finally found so we have the ability to take pictures now before baby comes....and once baby gets here. Hopefully 39 week pics are soon to follow this post.

"Emotions are problem driven, but faith is purpose driven. If you allow your emotions to rule your life you will be up one minute and down the next. You say, 'But I thought life was supposed to be an up and down experience.' No, God's plan is for you to get down on your knees to pray, then get up in faith and do what He's told you to do."

I know enough now to know that the rewards from this are so much greater than I can imagine. They may or may not have to do with with anything ever acquired on this earth but whatever this is producing far outweighs the difficulties being experienced right now. If this is producing character within me so that we may encourage others, or if this is teaching our children what it is to have faith and to push forward when everything within one screams to halt the discomfort, or if this is simply walking out our faith in fear and trembling so that our children may know Him in ways they would never have known Him otherwise....so that they can avoid so much of where we have fallen and had to learn the hard way...if this brings them intimately to Him at such an earlier age...than it is worth it all. Because nothing hard is ever endured without something beautiful on the other side of it all...whether it a be a body that one can love, a baby soft, so innocent, so new to life....skin like velvet...the absolute miracle and beauty of life itself, or whether it be the beautiful of seeing your children grow in the knowledge and ways of Him so that they may know the truth and walk in it...writing it upon the tablets of their heart.....it's a beautiful thing. Enduring the difficulties is a beautiful thing....because I am learning the rewards on the other side of it all are so much greater than the temporary struggles at the present moment.

For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught and the encouragement they provide we have hope. Romans 15:4

May the God who gives (teaches) endurance and encouragement help you live in harmony with each other, as is fitting for those who follow Christ. Then all of you can join together with one voice, giving praise and glory to God, the Father....for the things which He has done. Romans 15:5

If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. 2 Cor 1:6

Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses. 2 Cor 6:4

Learning Selfless

Snowy movie night

Garrison's drawing of where he wants to live....house on the left, barn in the middle...and a mobile home on bottom??? Made me laugh.

Mail lady love.

The many ways he loves me.

Before.....

.....after.

I'm really, really, really, superbly tired of crying. And I know that oneday this saga of our's will not be known as the trail of tears. I preface this post that if you have grown weary of my griping or insane, unstable emotions than it is highly advisable this should be skipped in its entirety. I know it could be worse....so much worse. We've already lived the worse and life is really exceedingly perfectly alright. It's honestly not bad. To pour forth what I'm about to sounds so awful I hesitate...but I need to write. Our children are whole, complete and healthy. A baby not only grows but mystifies husband and I with it's rolling movements....causes laughter as husband holds me tight to him and is returned with a kick to his stomach. Our children are safe and we are not enduring interviews with a children's safe house for one that has been violated in unimaginable ways. We are together and we are a family. Food is at our table in abundance. He starts a job in less than two weeks that neither of us ever in a lifetime saw coming.

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But there are days when this mountain to climb seems insurmountable and the reprieve ever elusive. I wanted to go. It seems so trivial....so drowned in self pity... that to sit here and fess up to these distraught emotions of mine seems somewhat pyschotic in every regard. But, it's honest and it's real. And apparently I can talk a really huge talk about being radical and forsaking it all....but I'm just not very good at actually walking it out....at all. It sounds good in theory....all typed out in pretty black and white form....courageous, valiant, heroic, brave and wildly extreme. But when it's all said and done...and one foot is placed in front of the other...steps falter. Suddenly the pretty picture painted in verbal form crumbles at the feet of reality....and one is left with this....the very raw, honest emotions of laying self wholly and totally aside to learn to live this wildly. There is no room for self when one has comitted to walking radically within His will. Because what one wants and what His purpose is are sometimes.....most times right now....something entirely different from each other....until I have learned to be so lost within Him that my desires line up with what He has in mind for each step I take. And therein lies the battle of self.

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I battle with sentimentality. I struggle with change. I wrestle with fear, lack of faith and knowing this really is all for good. It seems that the breaking points for me right now come at strange and odd places....but they're there and they come. And they're here now. Somedays it'd just be so much easier to climb into a hole and cry it all out for hours, sleep the rest off and re-emerge. But there is no time, no place, for pity parties so I trudge onward. Is this a really difficult place in life right now? Pretty much. Yep. If I lay all facades aside and get seriously honest. At the root of the internal struggle lie the why's of it all...and the self centered nature of.....me. And so it is that I learn the art of self sacrifice.

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It's a long story. It's always a long story. And one I don't want to tell. It's just more of the details of a really long haul. "No man putting his hand to the plow and looking back is fit for the kingdom of Heaven." I refuse to look back. But it stings as you learn of all the what could have been's. But through a long series of events Texas home is being put up for sale after having planned to rent it for a very long time. Both renters bailed....my own mom and a working colleage that were both recently laid off from their oil company jobs. And the plan to rent the house for years dissapated in only a matter of weeks due to extinuating circumstances on both parts. Emotions ran high as the heart came to accept the fact that life is here now....no looking back...no ties left to anything in our home state. Our little dream home that encompassed all of freedom's definition...all ties broken. No looking back. And no plan B. Home is here now....but it doesn't feel like home yet.

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I am fully aware that this is a massive pity party as I sit here and write, trying to sort out all of life...not even understanding my own self. Irrantional emotions as tears refuse to cease. So I write through tears knowing I will write...I will feel better...I will pull up my bootstraps...and continue forward with determination...because that is what is required and there is a purpose to all of this....and He really truly does have my best interest at heart....I think. I know that we will eventually find a little place here buried in fields of green grass, surrounded by pastures, with gurgling streams where boys fish and climb trees and grow strong....with no neighbors....no people. It will be a little house with two working toilets, hard floors and be a place where I can hang crap on the walls or put an axe through it if I so feel the urge. It'll be a place that's home, where we can settle and not have life in boxes, that will be our's.

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But in selling the house a trip back is required to make needed repairs, bring east remainder of what was left west, meet with people to do business, and see everyone left behind..and say the last of farewells to our little home, where babies were conceived and birthed, kids grew, where quiet baby still sleeps beneath red oak tree, and so much in life was learned and conquered. And honestly, I'm just really homesick and I wanna go home...just for a little while...just to see our house and the people we won't be able to see for the large part of another entire year...maybe longer. While we are blessed with an income it is not enough to be able to accomplish all we need to accomplish in these first few years and still take extravangant trips home to pacify emotions.

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So, husband and I planned and talked details of this last trip home for a few years. The list of to do's in house repairs, what is left to bring here, what is left to give away, and to close the end of a chapter in our lives where so much happened. We would leave the 22nd, return here the 28th in order for him to begin work March 1st. No one to watch kids in time for me to go. Mother in law freaks over traveling so late in pregnancy. Anger grows. I know beyond all of life that I will still be pregnant two weeks from now...and I'll still be pregnant two weeks after that. And if by some amazing freak of nature I'm not I'd give up everything in life to be at husband's side having a baby rather than stuck here delivering one without him with me. After days of planning and excitement reality comes that there is no way for me to make this trip....no one to keep kids. Grayson will travel, as he is needed for man power. And I grow angry. Irate, actually. Mad that husband listens to mother over his own wife and the body that has born his 10 children that have gone before this one. The disappointment seems overwhelming as I wrestle with the longing to return home....if only for but a few days....and I selfishly long for a reprieve from housework, meals, screaming little kids and fighting older kids, needs waiting to be met, and all that this 6 month journey has entailed.

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I know all too well that the words that will spill sporth are like venom to the soul fi I speak in all of my anger over not getting my way. So, I go into silent mode because the coping mechanism seems non existent at this point. Anger grows and I avoid husband at all costs. Self pity comsumes. Not fair. He gets an 8 days vacation while I stay here and wipe butts, clean up puke, clean bathrooms, and continue to relentlessly do the same thing I do day in and day out when a stomach virus is not present. I'll school kids, I'll stay home, I'll make sure chores are done, I'll look out the window and see light of day turn to darkness of night and I'll look at the suffocating number of houses that surround us and I'll stay pregnant....like everyday before this one, as this baby stays put for the week that he is gone...plus another 2 once he gets home. And yes.....this is a raging pity party...but still it torments the soul. So it is that I refuse to speak to him and avoid eye contact for an entire 24 hours...because I know there is nothing good that lies within my heart at this point. And the fact people say this trip is impossible for me pisses me off beyond the highest level of pissivity. There will be no death of mother or baby that occured due to the fact I sat in a vehicle for 11 hours for 2 days in a row. I am not so ignorant or self centered that I will jeopardize the life of me or our baby by my own willfulness...and the fact that people assume this messes with the head and patience level I possess. Infuriation grows.

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3 am I wake in anger...and sleep evades. So I lie and I think and I ponder....for hours and hours and hours on end. And the more I think the madder I get. 7 am dawns and I unleash the verbal fury on husband...tears and all. The more tears that fall the madder I get that they escaped and I cannot hold my resolve. His own anger with my belligerance subsides as he sees the hurt, and the longing and the desire for a tiny break in life and the longing to see family. Grandparents that I know I probably will never see again. Limited funds available and their health jeopardized in pretty much every regard. We came here with the hope of a 6 figure income knowing it would take hard work and long hours to achieve and are now here with the salary that we left Texas...but 1500 miles away from home....and no way to get back to visit.

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After onslaught of words have been vomited unkindly forth he understands, he forgives and he loves like only he can. And he cleans his closet in an effort to put forth a quiet peace offering for everything out of our control at this point. He sees the effort to accept the unknowns and the struggle to lay down the why's of a God I will probably never in my lifetime understand. He forgives the pity party and loves unconditionally...and I marvel at the way he can love me in all the ways that he does...and overlook all the things he can.

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Day brightens, speaking resumes, IRS website checked for tax return and we learn that it won't even be here on time to make a spontaneous trip west. Plans then change on a dime and we resort to Plan B...much to my excitement. Go in April with all 11 children in tow. Family can see baby and children visit friends and see west Texas for the last time in probably many years. It's not entirely optimal as working husband will need days off in order to make the trip and there will be no time built up and no way to know if they will approve. But, selfishly, excitement grew as it meant I could go....and that is, afterall....all that mattered. So, we planned and prepared for a 9 day trip with a newborn baby in tow...along with the other 10. For 2 days I lived in bliss knowing all was at peace...we'd all be going. Much needed reprieve for everybody at this point.

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7am dawns. Light dusting of snow covers all of earth. Children wake and are dressed and out the door by 6:48 am. Excited squeals heard throughout the valley. Husband and I laugh and stay amuzed by their early morning antics as he checks email. There lies the notification that all awaited tax funds will be available tomorrow. And yet once more...I knew exactly what it all meant and heart plummeted. And just as with his job...I knew deep within what makes sense and what has to be done. Once again.....all hope was beaten into non existence. And I know that none of this is his fault. But I silently wonder why on so many levels. Why the timing of this job and academy right in the middle of a baby coming?? Why is this so freakin hard and complicated...if it is all within the realm of right where we're supposed to be in life....living in complete obedience???? Why so many hopes only to be dashed time and again? I am grateful for his job....so grateful...and it sounds so entirely horrifically awful to complain after where we have been. But his salary affords us to live here...but not to return home...not for a very long time. And this job....academy right in the middle of a baby coming....M-F 8-5 with no days allowed off and no help established here yet???? And the house on the market and having to deal with it all....right now???? In the middle of the rest of this?? And why is it required of me to have a baby in the middle of the night to wake and resume the normal routine and carry on when the sun comes up? We've had 6 entire months of him being home...and suddenly when baby makes a debut he is not allowed to be home at all???? And so my heart cries, I grow tired....so so tired of being strong....and I just wish it all differently...and wonder why on so many levels. And the longing to go home overwhelms...if only for a few days....but I know without him saying anything....it's just not possible. He has to leave in two days. No time to even try to find someone for children...who currently are all dealing with a stomach virus. So, I withhold and bravely put forth a smile and tell him to go....as it only makes sense. No time saved to be able to take off....the expense of hauling 13 people vs a mere 2 people half way cross country is staggering. And I feel intimately the pain of being left behind. So we talk and we plan of their trip west and I support his decision...because this is not our fault. It's not his that we are here where we are. There is nowhere to lay blame here.

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He disappears into bathroom for morning routine and my tears fall....so many tears...disappointment, heartache, overwhelmed, weary, knowing what lies ahead that we still have yet to conquer. Children throw snowballs in the cold, laughter is heard through windows and in the early morning light I hid from the world under covers and let them fall.

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He emerges and finds me buried...crumpled pathetically and self centeredly beneath covers and he knows by the silence...how I try to avoid him to hide all the heartache. But there is no anger on my part this time, no reaction on his.....just compassion and his intense love...understanding so far reaching that it makes soul ache even more. He gathers me to him, strokes long messy hair and repeats softly...."oh baby" over and again.....cause we both know there is nothing we can do and this is neither of our faults...and I'm seriously, irrationally, hormonally emotional. The tears are seemingly endless. So much heartache. Selling out there to come here. I thought in all of my naivety that in walking in obedience and in coming here life would get so much better. The "blessed" life. Promise of such a better income. I mistakenly thought that with orginal job plan falling through the Lord had even better things for us here...a job we'd never explored...someway to provide and live the dream. But what happens if His will does not have your comfort in mind? What happens when His will is to stretch and pull and grow...even more? What happens when you gave up everything you loved to come to a place that doesn't take dreams into consideration....just what you can be as a testimony for Him?

_________________

Guilt tears mix with those of utter self pity. How can I even dare begin to be ungrateful for this job...for an income....for where we are...for this house on a fenced acre?? We are here...all together...a family of 13. We're going to welcome a baby in 3 weeks. Kids are happy and their laughter still rings through the house...echoes through a forested valley. We have an income that provides and meets every need....what he made previously working two full time jobs. How can I even begin to gripe that it's not enough....that it doesn't provide the luxuries that greedy heart desires...the ability to travel and go home when the heart grows sick... that the workload seems overwhelming and we still have yet another month to conquer of having a baby in his absence.....that I face the reality of not seeing family again for many many months? What happens when it's nothing you envisioned at all....yet you know more than life itself that you followed the Lord and walked through each and every door opened and avoided the ones He closed...absolute total obedience? We prayed and the trepidatious heart set our fleece out...not once...but twice. What happens when my own desires don't match up with His will...and every part seems wicked and selfish and greedy...and good is not good enough?

___________________

In an effort to pull it altogether I focus on quieting the overwhelming emotions, drying tears, and the two of us rise to begin the day and prepare for a 9 day trip west that I won't travel. With heart and attitude in check I help with list making of to do's here and to do's there. But with each bell of phone was heard as he received text after text of excited friends and family notified of their coming the wound grew a little deeper and the salt a little heavier. Still being an absolutely irrantional, hormonal, emotional basket case I retreated to deserted bedroom to avoid him and the guilt my own tears would heap upon his head for going...and I cried and cried and cried some more. All for getting left behind on a trip west. And the insanity of the whole situtaion....my complete inability to get a grip was a little humorous, a little bit ironic but a whole lot real. I'm not even close to joking when I say I'm really sick of crying. I've completely lost perspective somewhere in between the puke, the diarrhea, the fevers, the unknown, the seeming instability of the last 6 months, the mountain still left to climb over the next 5 weeks, the realization that we do not possess the ability to buy a home here for a good long while and rent houses do not exactly fit the criteria of life away from the suburbs. And it's so hard not seeing this as permanent...that we will be here 4 years from now in a rent house with neighbors on every side, no garden, no horses, no trapping, and by the time we do have the ability to live it Grayson will be grown. And yes...I do know in every way how entirely pessimistic that is....but it's a bit where the head is right now.

__________________

I don't understand the verse...do not even begin to come close to comprehending "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen." Cause what happens when what you hope for is not entirely what He has

in mind for your life? When dreams do not fit into the equation of the testimony He has for your life? When my own wayward self rather have my own desires rather than live how He is calling us to live? I don't know.

________________

Husband finds me and it only results in tears falling faster, harder. I know how much guilt I'm heaping on him for leaving me behind and I hate myself for it all. Grow continually frustrated by my total inability to cope right now with even being left behind on an 8 day trip west...cause all I saw was comfort, uninteruppted time with him for hours and hours and hours on end, 3 meals day I didn't have to fix, bathrooms I'm not constantly trying to keep disinfected, family and friends we could see...and in the event history plays no part of this baby's birth and I have it obnoxiously early than I'll be with him when it comes. And it would've proved all the naysayers wrong about not traveling at this stage in pregnancy.

_______________

But, it's not to be. So, I pull myself up, find the determination and strength that lies within and we move forward....cause that's just what you do. I will stay here and find the happy in fixing all 3 meals, I'll clean the bathrooms, I'll make the best of it all. We'll have a movie night piled up in bed. We'll make a park trip and hike to the river. I might actually blog more than once every other week. I might dig some baby clothes out and wash them. And at some point I really will quit crying over all of this and possess the ability to laugh over how insane it all is. That said, I'm very very ready to get past the month of March and see what normalcy looks like here...cause right now I'm a little bit tired. I'm tired of feeling like I've become one big gripe fest on here and I'm tired of feeling like I'm making this so much harder than it really is. It could be so much worse...and I'm thankful for where we are...right now.....right here. Cause life is just not. that. bad.

You Might Be A Little Bit Blonde.....

Edited to add pictures for some interesting viewing.

And it's about that time and age again. Lots of bumps and bruises as they climb, walk, run and everything else that goes along with little people determined to keep up with big ones. This came about from climbing onto office chair and falling forward straight into desk. Initially, it looked as though stitches were needed, as he also sent his two front teeth through the inside of his lower mouth. It was unknown as to whether his teeth had actually gone all the way through to the outside....but once it was all cleaned up we realized it was 2 teeth on the inside and a straight gash from the desk on the outside. Thankfully...no stitches required!

This nice shiner would be a result of climbing folded dining room chairs like little ladders. Needless to say, both chair and baby went down.

More climbing.....and window views of life.

And as desperately in love as I am with absolutely amazing husband...there are real life issues that take place within the walls of our home. It is not all butterflies, rainbows, castles and fairy tales in our amazing life together. This would be the forever Grand Canyon difference that ever occurs between Mars and Venus...and that I'm sure will continue to occur through the ages as long as man and woman marry. Closet in our room is a perfect example of this phenomenon.

His......

......and her's.

2:25 am. I seem to have an infatuation with time right now.....especially middle of the night time since I tend to see those numbers regularly at this point. So, I'm here. And why is it that I am here??? Because it has been concluded that I either have a kidney stone or a cracked rib. Whichever one it is....it hurts just a little bit. And sleeping is not even an option at this point. To lay down is far more painful than the long quiet hours spent sitting up awake.

Since I have personal experience with kidney stones I am quite certain this is not one of them. Husband, on the other hand, seems to think it is and that is is merely presenting entirely differently due to late pregnancy. Of course, any woman whose bladder is now squished to the size of a pea is going to pee often. And the incapacitating pain....it's not exactly stone like. So, we researched cracked rib and I seem to fall more accurately into that category. How it would've happened???? Coughing due to the bronchitis and....wait for it.....by blowing my nose. Sexy, huh? Either way it goes....kidney stone or cracked rib....there's absolutely nothing anyone can do about it so there is not entirely a lot of reason to go to a dr. And so...I wait it out.....sleeplessly.


Given the fact that when I move at all.....inhale, exhale, sneeze, cough, bend over, stand up, or blow my nose it rivals being stabbed in the back with a knife around some rib buried deeply within....there is some incapacitating pain involved. And lying down at all is pretty much out of the question. Sitting's not much better but it definitely beats trying to lay in any position. I was a little horrified to read that if indeed this is a cracked rib there is no 3-5 days of healing. Nope. Every resource we searched and person we asked gave it a healing time of 3-5 months. MONTHS. Soooo....if that's what this is I have to push a baby out like this??? Needless to say.....still searching for answers that give a little more hope to the gestating soul. But in the meantime...I have some really great, quiet, long hours of needless fb'ing, countless hours of blogging, catching up on emails and pm's, and window shopping the web. Cause sitting here just wishing I was asleep does nothing but make me irritated....as husband sleeps peacefully by my side. He wakes concerned about every hour or so, I assure him all is as well as it can get, and he dozes for another hour until we repeat the scenario all over again.


And this whole little inconvenience greatly affects picking up babies, bathing babies, picking anything up off the floor....and well....mainly just breathing in general. So, I have some hurdles to overcome as we try to get past this point. Little bit frustrating, to say the least.....and a whole lot painful. At least labor goes away and you get a baby out of the deal. This, seemingly, does not go away and so far there's just not much to show for it....other than some heroic efforts to be brave. Anyway....enough griping. Blogging definitely beats dozing in pain only to then fully wake and be completely incapable of even changing positions. And Tylenol on its own does not even begin to phase this so I finally did the forbidden and resorted to Motrin in pregnancy. Paired together they seem to at least buy some daytime hours....though nothing seems to make the long dark hours tolerable....mainly cause it requires....laying down.


So....upward and onward.


You might be a little bit blonde....(edited to later add....that also includes being completely unable to accurately spell the word blonde. Yes...it does have an "e" on the end of it....contrary to the two days the title sat without one....and every other time I used the word within this post.)


...but I'm not. That's the really scary part of this whole little story I'm about to tell. I wasn't born blonde, nor have I ever been blonde...nor do I have any desire to ever be blonde. However, I am capable of doing disturbingly blonde things. I'm quite certain that none of the mentally deficit things I have ever done really top this little incident. I may be entirely capable of igniting a mini inferno within our home by throwing little cups of cold water on little cups of boiling wax, and I may have the ability of twirling huge quad cab trucks into icy ditches and getting them so stuck it takes a 15 passenger van to tow it out and I may forget a kid or two every now and then....but never have I resorted to such brainless actions such as this little recent scenario. And it's a little bit laughable now....kinda....not really. But it really wasn't laughable then....though ever patient, adoring husband did find it quite amusing....and even helped clean it all up....much to his credit and lack of tolerance for the nature of what it dealt with.


And to preface the mentally deficit state of mind I have frustratingly operated within over the last few weeks....I have now successfully brushed my teeth with eczema medicine, lost and found the Ergos, lost the camera, washed an entire load of clothes with no detergent, toasted toast for half an hour, burned rice....how does a person even burn rice????......and put cheese in the freezer. Though none of that quite measures up to this brainless act of disgustingness.


Getting accustomed to a tanked water heater again has been interesting. We now have to carefully plan when washing machine gets started and plan out which loads get done during the day vs those at night. Showers and baths are divided up into groupings of morning and night shifts. Dishwasher is only allowed to be started after nighttime bathing is completed. Sanitary towel loads are only permitted during late morning/early afternoon times, as are warm denim loads. Darks and lights are shorter loads and get washed on cold so can be done as long as water is not being used elsewhere. Dinner dishes are required to be done in cold water to allow hot for those bathing at night. And diapers??? Diapers are the very last thing of the day that I put in after the house has shut down. They too are a sanitary load....imagine that....so it allows water tank to refill a little and me to gather all of the day's diaper use. Problem is....I get in a bit of a hurry to end the day and stick them in before husband and I have showered. So, I am often asked by showering husband if I can go please stop the diaper load. And sometimes I get really efficient and put them in with detergent and just have them ready to start so once showers are completed all I have to do is push start to begin the load.


But on this particular night diapers had been stopped 3 times. Once for husband, once for later bedtime son, and then again for me. So by the end of my shower I had started and stopped them 3 times already. And once you start a load that many times it just kinda seems like a done deal in the brain.....they got started.


So next morning dawns and I awake early, as usual, to dry the load before babies began needing them. But, as usual, life happened, the house came to life, kids dug in frig for breakfast and the coffee pot turned attention away from task at hand. Eventually, with ever helpful babies at my side, I returned to washer to begin switching to dryer. Babies absolutely LOVE this task. They hear washer or dryer door and come running from all ends of the house to participate in this chore that happens to be just their perfect height.


So, the two of them reached and grabbed with me as we busied ourselves with switching them out and starting a new wash load. And I must say that after getting a sinus infection, bronchitis and it all turning into a not so innocent case of rabdo wen babies were 4 months old....I have yet to regain my sense of smell or taste. As in....I seriously haven't smelled or tasted anything in over a year....or right at a year. I've been told by ENT I need sinus surgery again but astronomical insurance prevented it and it's kind of a pain in the butt to be down for that long when this many little people are around right now. So...maybe someday....when we don't have 8 kids seven and under.


And...on a side note for all of those that are thoroughly convinced many pregnancies and living in a shoe have warped my health and are solely responsible for causing my "failing health and demise" I was told at the age of 22 when we had only 1 baby, that by the age of 26 my allergies were so severe and life threatening that I'd be spending 6 months of the year in a hospital on breathing treatments and steroids. So....no. My current "cracked rib" or kidney stones or whatever this is....and my 12 month long inability to smell or taste is not exactly the fault of the toll 11 children have taken on my body. I get tired of hearing that crap. So....there's a little side rant for those privileged readers that actually read random 3:30 am thought processes.


Anyway...inability to smell is not entirely bad.....though I do miss smelling pumpkin in the fall and tasting the pumpkin and the York peppermint coffee creamer. But....it could definitely be worse...so, it's all good. Pretty much.


Given the fact I cannot smell it limits the ability to detect anything....from smoke to wet dog to burned food to showered husband's enticing body wash and shaving cream.....to any forms of nastiness. So this particular morning I felt diapers and, being damp from washing and being spun dry with the force of a jet plane that vibrates the entire valley, babies and I dug in and switched. Dryer started for high on 80 minutes.....cause one of the elements is still out...I walked away. 80 minutes later Evye was told to retrieve diapers from dryer and keep laundry going. She opened dryer only to screech and say she was going to puke. Grayson came running only to be as dismayed as she was. Then the words...."there is poop all over the dryer!!!! And it wreaks!!! And it's all dried on there!!!"


It didn't even require me going to that end of the house to know what I had done. Lacking any enthusiasm whatsoever, I call to them to immediately wash babies' hands....as if 80 minutes and a million things touched later it would actually make a difference. I'm thinking at that point we would've had to powerwash the entire house with Lysol to disinfect all that they had Come into contact with. And given how much they had probably fed themselves in that amount of time it would've taken an entire bottle of Listerine per baby to even begin to kill what they had just ingested from their sewer hands.


So, husband takes a look and comes searching for me. I just ask rather blandly..."is it bad?" To which he replies with an affirmative nod of his head. And nothing in me could even begin to require kids to clean up the brainless mess I had just created 80 minutes previously. So I go to assess it all, grow a little frustrated with myself, gather needed items....which included a chisel and a hacksaw....and began a 2 hour dryer cleaning endeavor. And for the 1st time in my entire life I would've willingly chunked an appliance down a 2 story deck, guiltlessly bought another one on craigslist and never looked back. But given the unemployment status of my husband and the frugal nature that would never forgive self....I very silently cleaned and scrubbed and disinfected and Brillo padded the inner confines of our massive dryer. And at 8 months pregnant the hole of a dryer opening is not so entirely conducive to size of rounded body. And then we ran it a cycle to get the poop fumes out and dry the bleach used.


But even with those good measures....the next load smelled like....well....crap. Quite literally. Much akin to the smell of a dog taking a dump in our dryer.....or so I was told.


So when you wonder where I go and am absent for days on end on here....just know it's because I am unfreezing cheese blocks, bent over on hands and knees scrubbing crap out of appliances for 2 entire hours, putting out fires in the oven, rewashing loads of undetergented clothes, actually starting the load of diapers, looking for the camera, and attempting to brush my teeth with something that's actually toothpaste texture.


And in the meantime I'll be thinking of what other randomness I can write about tomorrow night seeing as how this looks like it will be a nightly date for awhile.

36+ Weeks

If you ask me....baby's looking a little ready to come out....and that's just a really gigantic picture.

So...36 weeks and a few days.....or.....25 days left. If history is anything on which to go based, it's more like 30 days left at this point. Either way it goes....not very long.

4:03 am. I should be sleeping...but sleep evades at the current moment. I love how nature prepares the body and mind for the many sleepless nights that lie ahead. It's usually around 12 weeks that baby is sleeping through the night, but last time around it was about 5 months...and there were two involved. Even after having done it this many times the prospect of sleep deprivation is always a little daunting.....especially when one has others waiting at 7:30 that do not take into account whether any amount of sleep has occurred. I think we are all very much ready to hold this new baby. Children ask daily how many more days we have until baby comes out. And I'm very very ready to run again, crossfit, and P90X. Since running right now is pretty much out of the question after having dealt with half a day's worth of consistent contractions this last time I attempted it, I have resorted to just walking while children bike. But, very ready to run again. We've found some amazing places to hike in the mountains once spring arrives so the goal is to at least be in decent enough shape for that. That said, I'm so entirely grateful for a husband that finds in me everything he wants whether I'm 36 weeks pregnant, 3 weeks postpartum or baby is 5 months old. The body of a woman is an amazing thing....and so is the ability of her husband to love it through each and every stage.

So....at 36 weeks the herbs have been started to help prepare for a faster and easier labor.....an entirely controversial topic in the childbirth world. But, I figure if it stands a chance of making it easier and faster...than sign me up! Because, contrary to popular belief, no matter how many babies you have....they don't ever just fall out. And the 12 hour labors are no fun. Seeing that 5 out of 8 births have consisted of 12 hour labors my motto is to do whatever you can to help your body out in order to get them here a little easier. And, in the meantime, husband and I busy ourselves with perfecting the art of doing what it takes to start labor. Doesn't get much better than that!

If I remember, I'll do a 38 wk pic and a 40 wk pic to end the pregnancy, as we watch baby finish off the growing spurt from within.

And this has got to be about the driest, most boring post ever....but given the fact it's 5 am I suppose a little grace is required. When shift husband begins work once more blogging will once again resume a routine....and a personality. And for all the emails I should be catching up on right now....I really truly will respond. Sinus infection turned into bronchitis and an ear infection so Brad was amazing enough to let me sleep the weekend away while body tries to overcome it all. Hopefully while children school, babies nap and husband jiu jitsu's today I'll have some time to sit, think and reply to all that is waiting.

Life in Pictures

As of now, the main camera cannot be found so uploading those from phone.

After talking to brother on the phone one night for an extensive period of time I came out of the room to find them entertaining themselves like this. Based on the noise level and laughter you'd have thought it was an indoor football game taking place.

Packing up.

For the love of dirt.

Rainy day movie party.

Garrison's art project. His perfect mud family. Mom, dad and all 17 kids.

Bike buddies.

The new bedroom arrangement after having torn down the beds and setting them back up. We cut it down from 3 twin over fulls to just two and put a pop up trundle on wheels under the black one. Garrison on camo top, Grant and Garrett on camo bottom, Evye on red top, Gavin and Ivye on red bottom. Aubrey on roll out. Grayson now sleeps in the nursery with babies.

Aubrey and her new birthday bike.

When the peanut butter jar gets left open.

Happy Birthday Aubrey-girl. Cake lovingingly decorated by Evye.

Empty spaces create new hideouts.

Early mornings and packing up...before the unpacking began.

Helpers

Two babies. One big round one and one sweet sleeping one.

Playing mudball dodge. I still have yet to figure out what can possibly be fun about getting hit in the head with a gigantic ball of red clay. But it definitely kept them laughing for hours. "Chunkers" stand on the deck tossing balls down while "dodgers" run below and try notto get hit. Makes for some filthy laundry....but seriously happy, active kids.

Some Daybook Randomness

Outside my window....
Round white moon transforming trees into silvery swaying ribbons unfurling from heaven


I am thinking....
that the dude in the Wal Mart parking lot that ended our conversation with "It was nice talking to you, pretty little thing" was either blind or completely oblivious to the fact that my stomach now proceeds any other part of my body by 3 feet and the fact that 36 wks pregnant and the word "little" are highly contradictory terms.


I am thankful....
that after many irrational tears and being a little OCD about it, the two Ergo's were finally found. And they were not in the 50 boxes I went through 5 different times. They were safely tucked away in a suitcase in an organized fashion where I had put them for safe travel for the journey home...so they could be easily located and accessed when a baby comes. Go figure. And te Ergo's were not really the issue at all but rather what they symbolized and how out of order and chaotic our life tends to feel right now as we walk out all of the unexpected a unknowns. Thankful for the Ergo's, for some semblance of order in life right now and, despite the fact our life remains in boxes, it is now in organized boxes that allow one to think and function and get to what is needed when it is needed.


I am wearing....
what I usually sleep in. It might be sexy...if I weren't 36 wks pregnant. But, then again....on that note, I have found myself thoroughly enjoying the ever changing gestating figure this time around. There are certain transfigurations that only come with pregnancy and never exist otherwise. So....one might as well enjoy the advantages for the short time they last.


I am hearing.....
Silence. The absolutely blissful peace of night.

I am remembering.....
that the seeming chaos, hormonal overload, constant change, and upside down-ness of our life right now may result in an entire week's worth of non stop tears and emotional overload but afterwards the sun always comes back out and I remember every good and amazing thing we have been given. It's an amazing thing to be where we are, experiencing everything we have.

I am going....
to not think about the roaches that will come out in the near future as the weather warms...and the fact they're so monstrous they are capable of pulling up a chair and joining us for dinner....and when I go in the kitchen in the middle of the night to refill my water cup they very well may wave and greet me while filling up their own 32 oz cups.

I am reading.....
How to successfully exterminate Julio and Gomaz, Billy and Ted, and Bonnie and Clyde, how to resist the urge to tear out the rent house carpet and mop the concrete underneath, and how not to chop down the dead tree in the front yard.

I am hoping....
That despite the fact there has been a total loss of appetite for the last 4 weeks due to all of life this baby will come out roly poly and robust, and weighing no less than 7 lbs.


On my mind....
Boy Scouts and how much I love them. Feeling so very grateful to have found a potential troop that is amazing for Grayson. And the fact that Eagle Scout brother will be there to support and encourage him all the way. They camp once a month, have shooting weekends, hike in the mountains here, backpack, fish, and give endless opportunities to earn merit badges. And the troop has been chosen to makes a trip to Philmont this year. I love the fact it reinforces everything we are seeking to instill in our children at home as far as character, ethics, responsibility and leadership skills are concerned. I'm overwhelmingly grateful we have finally found something here that he loves, for which he has a passion, and is an avenue for his many interests and passions in life. I'm thankful for an Eagle Scout brother that knows what it takes to attain the rank and for a husband that is more than willing and excited to support, camp and hike with him. So thankful for all the support around him as he takes on this new responsibility in life and begins the work to achieve Eagle over the next 4 years.


Noticing that....
I actually find contractions somewhat pleasant now....cause it means labor will be that much faster and easier when it actually does occur....in theory anyway.

Pondering.....
"I count him braver who conquers his desires than him who conquers his enemies; for the hardest victory is the victory over self." Aristotle

Around the house....
Newly made laundry detergent, dishwasher detergent, fabric softener, household cleaner, carpet cleaner, 7 clean cut little boys, 3 girls needing haircuts, 7 carseats lined up in the living room that need to be broken down and washed, a van that needs to be cleaned out and vacuumed, an organized basement with rows of neatly stacked boxes, an organized clothes system......and NO boxes in the house anymore. It's been a productive week....and I can finally think again.

Life in pictures....
Since the blogger app on the phone is refusing to cooperate at this late hour, and the big camera cannot be located for recent pics....this aspect of the post will have to wait.