Loving on Nanny and Pawpaw

Here I am once again miserably behind. Seems to be the story of my life these days. But I guess there's something to be said for a very active, very full life that does not involve sitting at a computer all day trying to log down the details.

2 weekends ago now found us once again at Nanny and Pawpaw's. It is to the point that it is almost painful to go now though all of us treasure what we know we hold for this moment in time. There are times when it seems so very real as we drive away that this may really be the last time we see either or both of them. We arrived and I watched how very little Nanny moved around. How the once active, spry person that I knew 10 years ago has seemed to lose a little mobility with each passing year. And her will to keep going seems to be diminishing. The children bring absolute joy to them in every way and for a moment in time the shadows seems to lift as we see her perk up and embrace them. I cried on the way home due to not being able to shake the feeling of never seeing them again. Children slept peacefully as we weaved our way through the dark hills, small yellow home lights flickering from within the houses dotted along the highway. Brad and I sat in quiet for awhile until we broached the subject. We both know it and we dread it. It seems morbid to even let your mind wander to those dark places but yet I cannot seem to rid myself of the inevitable that lies ahead...be it only a year from now or another 20 away. So....in an effort to hide the tears and buck up a little once again I reminded myself that it is not time to grieve just yet. There will be a time but, for now, we have them right in front of us...filling our lives and our children's...and so we live in the moment...not wishing back the past or dreading the future. Simply enjoying the gift that we have been given today.

When the world seemed to doubt everything we were about and the wisdom of our choices the 2 of them were there to encourage and to support. They have loved us unconditionally and loved our children just as much, if not more. Pawpaw's gruff nature, quiet disposition and huge presence can be an intimidating thing at times but as the day was waning as we prepared to make our departure he called my name. Surprised at his direct address and the sound of him calling my name I turned to him asking, "Yes, sir?" In his gruffness he spoke life giving words that humbled me in every way, "Thank you for all of these Bettis' you have given us. Thank you. Not many people would do it. And they're a well behaved bunch." I smiled and answered in turn but the depth of the compliment that had been given took time to sink in. To be thanked for continuing a legacy and creating a heritage I think has been the highest compliment that we have ever been given....could ever be given. To know that God has used Brad and I as vessels to raise up these children that are a pleasure, delight, blessing and source of pride to their ancestors is a humbling thing. I never gave much thought to ancestry, heritage or legacies until our older children began to grow and the number of younger children multiplied. To know that our children bring delight to those that have so intricately played a part in our lives and supported us is a life changing thing. I think the blessing of being able to give back after how much we have been given is the most blessed part of this entire journey.

While there we celebrated Grayson's 11th and Aubrey's 6th birthdays, thus the cake.

Pleasing the crowds

Get your guns up

Good lookin' boy

Early mornings

Evye practicing handgun techniques -Grayson loading his new .22
Practicing for when the big one comes along

Note to Self

NEVER feed Fiber One to your children for breakfast.....or any other meal for that matter. And unless you intend to spend vast amounts of your day in the water closet I'd recommend skipping it yourself....unless, of course, you want to drop about 10 pds in one day.

Enough said.

Picture Tagged

I figured I'd take a little tiny break out of our school laden, house cleaning morning and post this fun thing really quickly.






I was tagged by Becky, a fellow homebirthing, homeschooling-minded mom down the highway from us.....that has one of the the cutest little boys ever and who is only 2 weeks older than Gavin.







These are the rules



1. Choose the 4th folder where you store pictures on your computer.


2. Select the 4th picture in the folder, and post it on your blog.


3. Explain the picture.


4. Tag four people to do the same.


5. No cheating (cropping, editing, etc.)






So........drum roll please..........here it is

Brad's dearly beloved crotch rocket that was sold during the commuting years. He still misses it........alot. He's a motorcycle man at heart. I prefer a truck man but really did love seeing him on a bike all decked out in his gear. Almost as great as seeing him in uniform.....despite the prison guard gray that he insists that it is.....or as good as seeing him in jeans and boots.....or in a suit.....or in nothing at all.

Alright...so this is a G rated blog....most of the time. Some daring comments and foul language is permitted on an occasional basis. And do I dare admit that my more feminine side would absolutely love seeing him back in his good looking, manly man attire perched back on a bike? Stating this fact is surely sentencing me to a lifetime of non stop "badgery" of how great a bike would be for our relationship. But the day that we have cash to pay for one is the day he will again be cruising through the countryside on one of these jewels...or more like rocketing though Texas. Although....another small fact.....if he does own a bike again it will be one that is conducive to a wife joining in on the fun...so more like a cruiser instead of one that does break neck speeds. He did have this bike (pictured below) before he got the red bike. I can't remember the year it was and couldn't find one of our own pictures of it. That was life before our digital camera existed. And this particular bike did, in fact, take the wife's comfort into account.

And, just for the record....I found it slightly odd that we have over 5,000 pictures in our stored picture base and most are of nothing but kids. And I had to post a bike??????

Alright....I now tag Jackie, Abby, Beth and Kim . And since I don't want to be limited to just 4 I also tag my dear Bethany and Thea....because I know they will have some crazy stuff to see. Also tagged is Beth that has 5 boys...like us.....and is not so patiently awaiting their 1st reversal baby!!!! And my sister, Jackie, has been tagged in a sheer effort to get her to post something that is actually new on her blog and not 3 months old! But you know I still love you!

Everyday Life

Sweet, funny, growing boy

Windy hair days

The man

Red

Mystery man

Twins

Family bowling night

Handsome little man

Playing tractors

Hosting his own gun safety and deer shooting class.....with very attentive pupils

Riding with the big guys these days

Carpooling

Need I say more?

Happy girl

School days

Attracting a crowd

The lull of the sewing machine does wonders for babies...my little sewing buddy couldn't stay awake to see her finished blanket

Alright....still falling miserably behind in my blogging life. Lots to catch up on and lots of everyday life.

Everybody took Garrett in to get his staples out this past Tuesday. It was a painless, rather enjoyable jaunt to the dr....much more pleasant than the one that had us in the ER last week. Not even any tears this time around. And, in a more social mood than Garrison when we had him in only a few weeks ago for his head stuff, Garrett made all kinds of conversation with the PA and walked away with 2 suckers out of the deal. Not bad. Brad and I were both glad to have the whole ordeal over with and finally have a head on the mend minus the staples. I was finally able to cut his hair last night. Garrison, Grant and Gavin all got haircuts at the beginning of last week but due to staples Garrett had to wait...and somehow Grayson just got skipped. I think he was out chasing chickens or shooting when the clippers went around the 1st time. He and Garrett finally got their's done yesterday. So...we're back to a crew of clean cut little boys. Garrett was starting to resemble a chimpanzee. That kid has more hair than any 2 year old I've ever known...but it makes him completely irresistible in every way.

Gavin enjoying the dinner time humor

I finally conquered the sewing machine completely on my own. And with many thanks to Mother Evye is now off and sewing right along with me. She made Brad a pillowcase for the station and I have managed to get Ivye a nursing cover/blanket done and Grayson his own firefighting pillowcase done. Last night we headed in to get material for the 3 girls' summer dresses. So, I figure I'll start on that sometime next week. By the end of it total costs for all 3 will be 24.00 and they'll have dresses that rival what hangs in Dillard's. I'm excited.

Granny giving lessons

Sewing for Daddy
Finishing it up

Grayson finally decided to put his long saved money towards the new flock of chicks. His entrepreneurial ways figured out that he would earn it all back plus a fortune by selling eggs. We split the cost with him and now have 37 new chicks due to arrive in only 2 weeks. By the end of it they'll look like these...or at least they should.

15 Barred Rock hens.....great for eggs and so fun to look at

15 Buff Orpington hens and 1 rooster....great for eggs and very gentle

1 White Giant rooster.....simply because I LOVE him and this bad boy will mature at a whopping 9.5 pds

5 White Rock hens....because they are great for egg production, gentle natured and I love the idea of white chickens out pasturing

So...assuming they all live through chickhood and the fox doesn't find a Thanksgiving feast early in the year once they hit our pastures we should have a grand total of 42 chickens....39 of which reliably produce many eggs. That's ALOT of chickens....and eggs, my friends. I think I'm hooked simply because I've found what works for us....since goats apparently don't. We still plan on doing the whole dairy goat thing once the pastures are prepped. But that'll be awhile in the making so, for now, we like chickens....and lots of them. Brad and I have pondered why these egg laying chickens are such a novelty to us and I think we finally concluded that it's just due to the simple fact alone that they have lived long enough around here to actually lay eggs.

The egg basket

And on the egg note.....we continue to get double yoked eggs. The children are eating eggs for every meal these days just for the fun of cracking them to see who gets the doubles. I wonder if this has any meaning????? We like getting things 2 at a time around here.

Twins

And on a different thought......

while in town several weeks ago...maybe even before Christmas.....we were all gathered around a table eating out. Garrett and Gavin sat in highchairs at the end of the table, since that's about the only place they fit at this particular place, while 2 others were grouped by my side and 3 others on Brad's side of the table. Ivye was being passed around and sat perched in laps most of the meal. A dear older man approached us during the coarse of eating amidst lots of happy chatter. He complimented us on what a good looking crew surrounded Brad and I and how entirely well behaved and happy they all are. Addressing several different ones they in turn answered the questions being asked of them. Once finished talking to, complimenting and teasing them he turned his attention to Brad and I. Huge tears welled up within his eyes and his voice faltered and then broke. He turned away in order to hide his tears but to no avail. He looked back with them streaming freely down his weathered cheeks and continued on in broken sentences to us. In a matter of only maybe 10 total sentences he stated that his youngest daughter died only a few short weeks ago and seemingly pleaded with us to cherish what sits right before our very eyes...never once taking a day for granted....because you just don't know. He commented tearfully once more on how absolutely beautiful all of our children are, how wonderful it is to see a large family and to hold each of them close and love them even more often than we do....because it is just never enough. Swallowing a lump in his throat and fighting to stave off the sobbing that I am quite sure followed once he exited the doors he quickly turned and left us sitting there in silence. The whole table of us hushed in a quiet silence. One of the boys finally broke the quiet asking why the man was crying for us. I explained simply that he was sad and that his daughter had gone to heaven.

That afternoon has stuck with me. Wondering who the man was, how we could ever contact him and wishing so badly that I had thought of getting his name. We are inundated with older people that love our family and so often I find myself wanting to meet up with them once more. The children are a joy to these people and we so very frequently here of these people's childhood days filled with many siblings long ago. Somewhere our young family with lots of little ones in tow reminds them of growing up on their farmlands with 8 or 10 or 12 brothers and sisters. Every once in awhile we'll even hear about twin brothers or sisters or even being a twin themselves. Through these people I am daily reminded of how blessed we are and I am humbled that they see in our family something that is so very dear to their own hearts. Days long ago past for them but bringing back sweet memories of childhood. But this one particular man has stayed with me throughout these weeks. I look at each of my children and I hear once more his quiet tears and broken sentences charging us to hold onto them, love them and enjoy them even more than we do right now. Is that possible?

I contemplate these thoughts as my heart is heavy and saddened today for the Morris family . 2 years ago today they lost their sweet Joel and I am again reminded of how fragile all of life is. How precious each and every day is that I live with my beloved husband that I cannot possibly imagine ever being more in love with than I am at this very moment and each of my 8 sweet beautiful children that I hold within my arms each and every day...that I see as they awake with rumpled hair and squinty eyes every morning. The sounds of their sweet voices as they talk. I see Gavin now proclaiming wildly in exuberant excitement over his accomplishment, "Bye....see you morrow!" as his little tiny hand rocks back and forth like a little pendulum. I hear Garrett's little slow talking ways as he drawls out whatever it is he has to say in his Texas ways...sounding so much like his beloved daddy. Garrison's little 4 year old voice as he tells his animated stories and hunts down all of his pretend deer, seeking to be just like Grayson....dressing to match his big brother's camo attire and his rifle toting, gun slinging ways. Grant telling the hapenings of life outside in his tiny high pitched voice. Just this morning I watched Evye and Aubrey as they donned their rubber gloves and Evye gave instructions on how to properly clean a bathroom to her little miniature self......as Aubrey vigorously scrubbed anything and everything within sponge's reach.

I love them. Words that seem so incompetent......so surface...so simple....so overused.....but hold the entire world within their power. My heart aches with the love that I feel for these children and my sweet Brad that I hold so close to my heart......for my husband that continues to take my breath away and win my heart over each and every day of our marriage and for our 8 children that keep me humbled and on my knees every moment of my days. What a privilege and honor it is just to live with what I have been given.

A Thousand Miles From Nowhere

For the first time in life I realized what it is to feel so very far removed out here. There has never been a time that I have ever not loved living here and not loved being absolutely out here in the middle of nowhere. The other night I got up to nurse Ivye and went in to check on Gavin and out the window grazed a mama doe and her fawn in the quiet dark, their silhouettes illuminated by the glow of the white light of the moon. They moved around to the front of the house and grazed under the trees with the fawn eventually laying down in the dry crispy brown grass. They have started coming up on the porch at night and eating the cat food out of the bowls.

But on to more important matters. After arriving home from church Sunday afternoon all kids were turned loose to play since it was now 3:00 and way too late for naps. We'd been home all of maybe 10 minutes when Grayson comes screaming in the house that Garrett was injured. He was a bit hysterical and said to call Brad immediately. Of all days Brad was at the station, as he seems to always be when the big stuff happens. As Grayson started to cry and screamed to hurry I felt my own fear rising and starting to send me over the edge in panic. Mother and I ran out the back door to find Garrett sitting on the rocks screaming and blood gushing from the back of his head. Mother picked him up and I took a look at the gash that was appearing to be a large hole directly on the back of his head. At that point I did kinda freak. Blood flowed freely and then gushed out like a river every time his pulse beat. For the first time ever I honestly thought one of my children might be dying. All I could think was that he was bleeding out and we were 30 minutes away from any help. AirMed is a good 30-40 minutes by the time the call comes in, they warm up and then flight time. Ground assessment takes 10 minutes and then the 10 minute flight back. We both know that throwing any dangerously injured child in the back of the van is just as fast as getting AirMed here. Any ambulance service out here is a joke. Eden is as close as it gets and it is a good 20 miles, not to mention that the caliber of the EMT's would equal my own knowledge of what could be done for the situation. I'm not sure paramedics even exist there. Grayson had called Brad and just handed me the phone so I was a bit panicked at that point and told him just to meet me at the ER. I had had just enough time to change pants but not my shirt when this all occurred. So...somehow remembering I was in 1/2 church attire and 1/2 lounge around attire I went to the closet and threw on a t-shirt, panicking all the way I might add. Brad was trying to talk some sense into me and tell me what bank and insurance stuff to get and put the whole story together. Mother stood at the door applying pressure to his head while I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off and just, in general, wasted time looking like a moron. My hands were shaking so bad that I I dropped everything I touched. Thoughts of him losing consciousness and dying in my arms kept coming to mind and rendering me incapable of doing most everything. All I could see in my head was his limp little body and being miles and miles away from any help at all with his head still bleeding profusely. It literally felt like we were a thousand miles from nowhere. 30 miles is an eternity when you seriously think one of your children is in death's grip. Out of habit I gave instructions for all of the children to load up and for olders to buckle youngers quickly. As Mother stood watching me skitz out she made the suggestion that I just take Garrett in and leave the others with her. His blood had soaked 1 towel and was bleeding through to the second at this point. Ivye was loaded up by someone...probably me though I have no memory of it.....and I hurriedly told Grayson to sit with Garrett to keep applying the pressure to his head while we drove. Grayson was still crying softly but with specific instruction and a job to do he quickly pulled himself together and took over the task at hand. By this time Garrett had stopped crying and I honestly didn't know whether to be even more scared or relieved. Crying was good cause it meant that he was alive and well but silence could be good in that it may not be nearly as bad as I was making it out to be. Mother reported that the bleeding had slowed by the time he was in his carseat...though it only took the rocky driveway to set it off again. Now behind the driver's seat for the next 30 miles I was forced to settle down and get a grip. I talked to Brad on the phone as Grayson and I tried to piece the story together and what had happened. Garrett was riding his 2 wheel bike like a Knievel jr, as he always does and due to his NASCAR worthy speeds he dodged to miss slow moving Gavin and crashed. Somehow at some point in there the back of his head slammed into the massive unforgiving rocks that make up our patio area. Since the rocks came from the surrounding land around this place they are naturally lumpy, bumpy and somewhat jagged in nature. His head apparently struck against one of the protruding parts of the rock. Upon the initial sight of it I thought the bike handle had actually gone through his head but after sorting the story out we realized it had been a rock and it did not poke a hole into his head but just split it open instead. Mother was at home surveying the bike handle looking at the blood on it to see if the handle had actually gone into his head but discovered the blood on the handle was dripped down it instead and pooled as it dried. So, the best we can come up with is that his head struck the rocks. Whatever it hit was unforgiving and merciless.

With Brad's instructions we went to the station first and with a quick glance it was surmised that he indeed would need sutures. At this point the bleeding had slowed again but Garrett's hands were covered with it, his carseat had a huge blood spot where his head had rested and there was a drying river of blood from his head all the way down his back and into his little underwear. Since Brad cannot leave the apparatus he is assigned to that day the entire engine crew went with us. We followed in the van behind the big truck to the ER. The guys were great about it and hung out while Grayson, Brad and I had Garrett looked at. It only took a quick glance by everyone near that Garrett was indeed in need of suturing. We were taken to a room where they applied topical numbing stuff and waited for 40 minutes for it to go into effect. Garrett was quiet this entire time. He cried when Brad set him down to be weighed but other than that he was a model patient who refrained from any noise at all. I nursed Ivye while Brad held him in the ER bed. It was determined they would staple his head instead of stitching it back up. Never in my life could I imagine them stapling his head without numbing the entire area. Brad and the dr both said the 20 second lidocaine burn would hurt far worse than the almost instantly fading pain of the staple. I was hesitant to say the least. They laid him down on his stomach and pulled out the stapler. I wanted to faint and debated on going out of the room entirely. But before I could even ask they pointed and shot. He wiggled around and whimpered, Brad stilled him and they shot the next one in. He cried for a second and was almost immediately swept up into Brad's arms and comforted. His crying stopped just as quickly and it was over. They wrapped his head up in a gauze cap and we were instructed to keep it on for 24 hrs. He looked so pathetic. This is our little guy that only 3 days before had had a scooter wreck and cut open his chin and Brad had to make the decision on whether that needed stitches. It didn't and we didn't even go into the ER like we thought we were going to need to for that one. They very same day as the chin incident they were all on the trampoline and he had been jumped by one of the older ones into one of the poles and been given a purple eye...that was now a nice color of muted yellow. So.....with his little gauze hat on he looked like he'd been in a street fight or could rival the best of the WWE.

Brad left to take care of the business end of it while Garrett was offered his choice of an entire drawer full of stickers. He politely only took his 1.....as is the standard rule around here when they are offered something...and was then urged by all of the nursing staff that was drooling over him and how cute he is to take as many as he wanted. He chose 3 and promptly told the nurse he wanted them all on his head. The nurse peeled and he quickly pasted them on his forehead and cheeks making him look all that more ridiculous. We all stood laughing at him. Brad returned from handling the business end of it all and we were met by the entire station crew at the ER entrance doors. All the guys stood around high fiving Garrett and telling him how sharp he looked with his new beanie cap. Garrett was way too enthralled with the trucks to talk stickers and head wounds and stood loudly stating the obvious that the medic and engine sat outside. With kisses from Daddy and a quick look at the trucks for the 10 millionth time in his life we made out way back out to the van with a new and improved Garrett. Brad loaded him up and the 4 of us set off for home.

I called Mother to let her know we were on our way back. After an update on Garrett she then reported that Garrison was now at home puking. Oh my freakin gosh. How much can a day hold...or do I even want to know? And where in the crap did this come from??? It happens everytime we start to make significant headway in our spiritual walk and the storms begin to pour in torrential downfalls. The spiritual attack is somewhat astounding due to the severity when it comes. There is nothing even a little nonchalant about it. I called Brad and told him to start praying and to cover the entire family in prayer and ask for protection, standing against anything else Satan would try to bring on in this onslaught. I knew the battle had begun. This week I had done exceedingly well in getting up early and then not only did we make it to church but remembered every reason why we loved them. We were able to praise and worship unhindered unlike we have done in a very long time. The children were given percussion instruments to play and they stood by our side making a "joyful noise unto the Lord". It was incredible to be back.

We arrived home, and since Mother had already fed them, all I just put everybody in bed. Garrison had another puking episode in which he eventually just went into dry heaving. Dry heaving is good (relatively speaking of course). We like dry heaving around here. He was tucked into bed with a trash can and Grant was allowed to sleep on Aubrey's bed since cleaning up 2 boys didn't sound like very much fun. Garrison has been known to lovingly puke on his twin in the middle of the night. We had a birthday movie night with Mother for Grayson's birthday the following day (another post later on in the week) and then the older 2 were put to bed. Garrett got up around 1 am with a "hade-ache" so more ice packs and numbing stuff. It was then that I walked into their room and discovered that based on the smell that emanated from there that something must have indeed died in there. It was enough to make me puke. I searched the world over for the culprit but discovered only a minor amount of spit up in Garrison's trash can. Since Garrett has been fighting off a sinus infection and his breath has smelled very near dog poop I insanely thought that maybe his breath had just funked up the room uncontrollably. He had his 1st doe of coconut oil before bedtime and some natural decongestants so I thought maybe they just hadn't had time to work their magic just yet. Upon smelling his breath 1/2 an hour later I decided that he was indeed not responsibly for this ungodly nastiness that pervaded. Like a complete and total fool I stuck my head down to Garrison and discovered "puke" on his sheets. I thought it was a little strange for whatever reason and something in me told me it wasn't really puke. So...for whatever insane reason I stuck my nose down on his stomach and oh my gosh. Wanting to pass out doesn't even come close. I peeled back the covers and the alleged "puke" was of course not puke at all. I didn't even know a kid could have diarrhea unknowingly in the middle of the night but apparently it is indeed possible. I woke him up and peeled the covers away and transported him at arms' length to the tub. He cried pathetically and his whole body shook from the cold of the cooler temps of the night. After cleaning Garrison up and getting him back into some warm clean pj's I set to work on stripping the bed and starting the wash. At this point Garrett was still awake from his "hade-ache" and talking non stop and we were now going on 3am. The rest of the house slept peacefully. I moved him over to Evye's bed for the rest of the night since the girls were camped out on the nursery floor due to Mother being here.

After they were tucked warmly back in I crawled back to bed wondering what else the night had in store and desperately just wanting sleep. I had just enough time to drift off before Ivye's hungry little stomach was enough to wake both of us. I fell asleep nursing her and eventually was awakened to her stirring around when she was done. I placed her back in her bed at 4:30 am and finally was able to sleep until the children all awoke at 8. Back to life.

Brad came home after an entire night up on the engine. I opted to take the morning shift since Mother was still here and we could sew and he agreed to take the afternoon shift. He slept the morning away while we sewed and fixed lunch. Eventually he got up and Mother left around 2m. Brad went to run while I finally got to go back to bed. Grayson and Evye took over since he was out running so I could sleep for awhile. The thought of dinner was absolutely exhausting so Brad headed off to his city council meeting while the children and I bundled up against the cold front blowing in and set off for town and a Sonic birthday dinner surprise for Grayson.

But I must say that this event was a very first for us. I figured we've done pretty good to have 8 and only just now made this kind of trip to the ER. I honestly just figured if we ever had to do an ER run of this nature that it would involve Grayson and some kind of bike injury. He is crazily good on his bike and can do things most kids will never in a lifetime be able to do. But, alas...it was sweet little 2 year old Garrett. It was indeed a bike injury due to race worthy speeds but not exactly the kid I expected it to be. He is on the mend now and only occasionally complains of any "hade-aches" now. He is being babied by all of the older ones and all of his needs are being more than met by an onslaught of eager siblings that feel so entirely sorry for him. But the kid's already back out on the trampoline having wrestling matches with the rest of them. His 24 hr cap got to come off last night and we were able to survey the damage. It is enough to turn my stomach looking at it but he is no worse for the wear. While feeding him oatmeal after arriving home from the ER he looked up at me with those huge blue eyes and asked if he could please go ride his bike some more. Get back on that horse, boy!

Goal Setting for 2009

So........the time has come. I've actually never been one for New Year's resolutions. In fact...in the past I have downright thought they were a crock of BS...to put it bluntly and in no uncertain terms. No one I have ever known has ever kept them and in years gone by mine were no exception to that fact. They seemed to always pertain to losing or dropping weight in some form or fashion...and that's about it. Nothing more....nothing less. Just weight. And, honestly, why do people always set them at the beginning of a new year anyway? Why not do it when you're inspired or just ready to make some changes? Why always the continuation of the world setting itself up for seeming failure....more than 1/2 of creation knowing they will never uphold to these unruly, out of reach, unattainable standards they set every January 1st. Just plain truthfully....I don't believe in this stuff.





But as I wandered up onto the new, fresh start of a completely New Year....something so untouched and still so blank...still waiting patiently for the pages of its days to be written upon....I gently fell onto the realization and discovery of why it is some people seek to set goals upon the arrival of new years.....year after year. Something about it this time around screamed of its newness...the miracle of starting over again....again and again. The fact that I have been given this place in time....the fact that I have the opportunity to participate in the newness of life on so many different levels. All of the new life around me cries out and longs to be recognized for what it is. Perfect newness. The blessing of being given yet another day to live, to love...to experience life to its fullest. As I cradle my sweet perfect baby in my arms I feel her head nestle down into my neck until she is as close as humanly possible...and then her body settles and relaxes against me...molding its tiny shape into the curves of my body. My senses are overwhelmed by her....the smell of her lavender scented little wisps of hair, the velvety softness of her face, the feel of her tiny breaths..the rise and fall, up and down of her miniature chest, the sounds of her baby noises...the sighs, her little whispers of love to the mama who cradles her...to me, her deliberate smiles melting the very core of my being, tiny fingers curled around my bigger one, the sight of this tiny human being so dependant on me to provide everything there is for her in life at this very moment in time. Perfect. Newness. Innocence. Life. Moment. Time. End. Beginning. Forever. Love. Words that float effortlessly through my head.....sighed quietly out under my breath in complete and total awe of where I am......this place in time.

A fresh start to everything. This surreal picture catches me by surprise...but yet it shouldn't. Why does it hold me captive now? Have I not done this 7 times before? Have they not all held this same appeal? Perhaps this reason right here is the same reason we continue to press forward with a new tiny life welcomed into our family so very often these days. Not only is it the insurmountable love that is ushered in but maybe this is how God works....in the tiny things of life. The biggest changes sometimes start buried in the discovery of something so new. The discovery of yourself in another. Holding her is like holding my heart in my hands. Looking into Garrett's huge blue eyes is to see all of the days ahead of him that are filled with hope and how much he has yet to live. As I watch Garrison play I see his undeterred joy over all of life itself. What seems like sheer insane delight as he takes joy in absolutely everything that surrounds him. I see Grant study and take millions of things apart in his effort to understand the mechanics of modern day technology, his brain being turned at turbo speeds as he soaks in the world around him. Just about that time I see Evye glide gracefully through the kitchen, humming along and doing what only she knows about...caught up in the girly world she lives in. I ponder this as I stand from my corner of the warm kitchen, baby having been placed gently in her bed to sleep away the active morning hours, and this desire to set goals rises from within. Surrounded by my children I am again reminded of the new beginnings of life.....their incomprehensible joy for all that abounds in their world. The dawn of each day a new beginning all over again. Sunlight streaming rays of newness and life on everything......casting away the shadows of the night and exposing everything to new, untouched light...a day yet unlived...waiting for all to be discovered. I hear the never ending aspirations that are woven somewhere deep within Grayson's head....his wheels ever turning and I am again reminded at how it is never too late to set goals, to strive for that which you have not touched yet, to dream of what you want to do and then set out to do it....the vision of all of life shining in my children's eyes. "For where there is no vision the people perish". So....I am visioning. I know what I want to accomplish and I know what innate desires lie within me......quiet but still whispering to break forth and be recognized. And I have a hard time stilling the growing excitement that bubbles underneath as I think of things I long to do....unfinished projects, goals and desires that are so regularly stomped out and squelched by my own self......swept away into a dust pan with the food and colleche dust on the kitchen floor, folded and put away with the baskets of clean clothes. Lack of time management, exhaustion, other pursuits and just sheer laziness on my part to actually bring them to life and bring some form of fulfillment to the creative side of me that lies buried within. Somewhere along the way I seemed to have lost the "see the need, do the deed" mentality I seek to instill within my own children. Projects surround me yet excuses abound as to why they have not been done as of yet. After 2 long years of living here our walls are still barren....why? The constant change of direction of a husband that has, in times not so long ago passed, searched the world over for new places to live, a new life for us all? Or due to a husband that wants absolute perfection when a wall gets painted or a picture hung or a tile laid? Or maybe just me finding these excuses convenient when the job is at hand and the time is there to accomplish it? Who knows.

So.........are they resolutions I am jotting down on this cold, freezing day? I'm thinking not. For even the term "New Year resolutions" brings to mind unpleasant thoughts and something so commonly repeated across the world year after year. Repetitive failure. But I find that old quote "Fail to plan, plan to fail" is still no closer to being proven untrue. And there is indeed no denying that. So, I walk away from the kitchen chaos and morning activity and withdraw into my room to sit and write these goals down. Where do I see myself in 6 months? A Year? Pregnant, no doubt. Ok....my own humor brings a smile to my face with that thought. But, in all reality, I envision just 6 months from now. A year seems daunting. An entire year to live up to these "expectations" I have put on myself....better stated as goals I have laid out. Brad always says to just set a date and keep at it for that long. If you are not happy with the results at that time then just quit and go back to where you were when you started. Nothing has been lost and if nothing has been gained then you've come out even. But at least you tried.





So it is that I make short term, 5 month goals and I will re evaluate on June 1st. Sounds not only reasonable....but do-able. Not a year....not even 1/2 of year. Just 5 months.

Rising Early
Ever the elusive goal I set out to conquer this ugly beast and see the joy, instead of the lack of self discipline, that accompanies the whole subject of rising early. There is something to be said about greeting the sun's new rays and gathering your thoughts together before the activity of children abounds. I have known this for a very long time....as I am quite sure every parent does. Even without the children there is indeed something to be said for getting up early and utilizing your time efficiently. I read this today as I sought to get motivated on the topic and was inspired by the encouraging words. This link was also posted on the Holy Experience blog in an effort to shed more light and how to's of getting up early. To say that I have never been good at rising early is putting it far more graciously than what it deserves. So with sights set in place I take on this task with a joy that has not existed before. Something about grabbing hold of my day before my children grab hold of it for me.

Seeking the face and heart of God
We teach this fervently to our children....seeking to instill in them that their very life, the very breadth and depth of their lives, depends on this one fact alone. If they learn nothing else from us as parents they must walk away with this truth. If we accomplish nothing else in this life but engraving this one fact upon their hearts then we have succeeded at parenting. But as much as I seek to write this upon the tablets of their hearts I myself do not carve out time in my own day to make this priority happen. The priority has not lessened but just been slowly overshadowed by the to-do lists awaiting me when I wake. My footsteps already falling behind as I play catch up to the messes that lie in wait on my kitchen floor, the children needing to be dressed and the school books needing to be opened. With the early rising comes the ability to purpose a very quiet time of my day to focus on nothing but hearing the voice of the Lord for myself...focusing on what He has in store for me for that specific day and what He wants me to hear. Oh..how my day would be lightened if I would just be still enough to sit with Him for awhile and soak in His presence. I know this fact but I have so rarely done it. I sit with my children gathered around the kitchen table as we lift up individual prayer requests to the Lord. I stress the importance of time alone with Him to hear the soft and gentle whispers of a voice that longs to talk to them....to be heard by them. They do their morning Bible reading but I sit as no example at all. I teach though I do not practice. And, more than anything else, I miss what it is to fix my sights on Him and allow my days to start being held within His arms....and the joy may or may not be mine that can be had at just allowing Him to speak into my heart before the day ever begins. This is critical. The absolute foundation of all of life and what it is to parent my young children. I cannot go on like this. So it is that I purpose with my rising early to seek Him in the still, dark, quiet morning hours before the patter of feet ever hit the old creaky wooden floors of this house.


Going to church
This has been one of Brad's biggest issues to overcome....and thus mine. Since moving here we have tried a number of different churches but nothing to him ever felt right. I have waited patiently and not so patiently, at times. I have gone from feeling as though we are raising heathen children to resting in the Lord knowing that God will move upon both of our hearts to confirm where it is that He wants us to be. And to rest in the fact that I have seen time and time again that when I let go and just pray quietly God will indeed move upon his heart. The constant nagging and badgering I have the ability to do only serves to drive him farther and farther away. I have done both. I have nagged and been the drippy faucet and I have sat quietly and patiently in prayer waiting for God to speak into his heart what has already been spoken into mine. Church is one of those very major issues. It is safe to say that with both of us having been raised in church with parents that were highly involved it was easy to get burned out by the time our adult years were upon us. Once married it was freeing to no longer "have" to go. Eventually that wore off and we went back to our roots only to have them shaken and nearly pulled completely up as the commuting years set in. By their end we were both so mad at God that I think neither of us really cared if we ever saw the inside of a church again. The Lord was gracious to once again come in and make our hard and battered hearts pliable yet again. And both of us were turned back to the heart of the God we knew to be ever faithful, loving and full of mercy..despite the bruises that still made our hearts tender and touchy to everything Spiritually. At some point in there my desire to return to church and fellowship came slowly back and we branched out to find a place we belonged. Nothing we tried ever felt like home to Brad and, admittedly..not much did to me either. We both knew we would know it when we found it......that in His timing we would be led to a place called "home". A bit like trying on a pair of old jeans...slipping into them comfortably and knowing you were "just home". After 2 years of intermittently trying new places and revisiting old ones he still had not settled on anything. During this time I had begun to take the responsibility upon myself and see that the children were "churched" properly. I grew weary and tired almost instantly and was once again humbled when the Lord revealed it to my wayward heart that I was indeed growing weary since I was doing it all of my own accord. I had set forth on an endeavor that we were not in unity on at all. Therefore I was not only not being blessed but doing it in my own human strength alone. And my human patience, tolerance and ability to accomplish great things with many children in tow is pretty much non existent. I was not making any great headway and only burning myself out on church once more. The effort it took to get there was tremendous and the anger that rose as I sat there without Brad only worsened everything. I was humbled when I realized I had once again stepped way out of my boundaries and taken over in yet another area of our lives. So....I laid it down. And, honestly, it felt pretty good. I was able to enjoy the weightlessness that came with laying it at the Lord's feet and no longer worrying about the outcome of our children's lives due to their heathen upbringing. Sundays once again took on absolute freedom and with the passing of each one they took on the essence of fun...no longer drowned out by guilt.......guilt for not going when we didn't go and guilt that prevailed when I did go. So I sat waiting but spending our Sundays together in joy and freedom...time spent together as a family. As the end of the year drew to a close Brad suddenly spoke up on several different occasions that he had a desire to return to church....that he missed the teaching and fellowship. Caught completely by surprise I asked what church, since none had ever seemed to be our pair of old jeans. And sure enough somewhere under the surface of life God had been working deep within him, unknowingly to me. His heart had been taken by the tiny church in Menard and the love that we were so fully embraced by. The parental figures of the pastor and his wife, the deep friendship that had formed so many months ago as we attended with Mother, the depth of what we both knew was there. The deep teachings that satisfied Brad's voracious hunger to seek after the heart of God and answer questions that have long gone unanswered for him. So, as the turning of the pages brings upon us a new year so does it bring the desire to return to church. I have seen God work in so many many ways like this in our marriage. When I lay down myself and give it ALL over He then has the ability to work within Brad without my interference and voice ruining it all. And, indeed, I have ruined many a work in my childish immaturity but as I have grown in my relationship with the Lord and in our marriage I have had the opportunity to see God move mountains within my own husband. Why it is still an absolute miracle to me when He moves is still baffling to me. Did I not pray for and expect this very thing? Why then does it take me by surprise every time He does it? But it does and it's the same wondrous feeling everytime He does it yet again.

So, together we have purposed to return to church regularly with this new year. A goal to accomplish? Yes...it is a goal. Because I know what it is to ready many young children for church early in the morning and make the hour drive to get there......but a drive that is so well worth the time because we are in unity and we are in fellowship together with other believers.

Exercising 5 x's a week
I refrain from setting any weight loss goals. My body seems to not know what it is to lose weight anymore so the scale rarely budges...much to my utter dismay and sheer horror. But in running I have seen the importance of just getting out and releasing the day...letting go of what has built up. I have once again felt the freedom of just tying on some running shoes and taking off...leaving the cares of the world at the doorstep. The feel of the wind against my face....freedom, the blessing of being able to move. I feel like a kid again. And I feel the sense of accomplishment that comes from having pushed myself farther than what I ever thought I could go.....pushing past my head that screams to stop, pushing past the things that tell me no in life, breaking every barrier in my mind that holds me captive and tells me I am unable or incapable. It clears my head. I run the race and I finish it. And I know when I am done that with God on my side I can do anything......He can move mountains through me because when He uses me He knows that not only will I start the task but I will finish strong. My goal is to grow stronger and let go of myself for a time....to run it off and work it off as I center myself on Him.

Thirdly....it is to accomplish the list of projects waiting for my attention.
-Hang the pictures that still sit in untouched boxes.
-Paint the nursery and bring its farm to life.
-Paint the utility the insane colors that sit waiting in the cans.
-Tile the top of the old bookshelf and transform it into the serving area we envisioned it 2 entire years ago.This will require learning how to tile.

I am sure the list could go on but those are the ones that take priority for one reason or another.

And lastly....to get good at sewing
and have sewn at least 2 things by June 1st.


The beginning. I stand with anticipation over this new year and what it reveals to me personally and to us as a family. I look forward with excitement to June 1st as I toil away my days seeking to accomplish my goals and continuing to raise our children in our very blessed life.