Weekly Weigh-in - the post partum twin journey down - week 2

Week 2

The routine:

Weight Watchers

P90X

Running 3 x's a week

cut out all refined sugar

juicing daily w/ Breville juicer

I have kept immaculate track of everything that has gone in my mouth the last two weeks and counted Weight Watcher points with great fervor.

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So....drum roll please.....I lost another 3 lbs. A total of 18 lbs now. 10 lbs before I started tracking on here. 5.6 last week and 3 this week. Over half way there!

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I fully expect my body to plateau a little after the sudden drop in weight and won't be surprised or disappointed next week if I just maintain. I would welcome anything that is getting closer to the goal but I've done this enough times to know that a week is coming, probably sooner rather than later, that the scale maintains before it begins it's move south again. I just figure that as long as the mirror is showing results I'm a happy girl. And the way my body feels right now I am quite assured P90X and running is going to indeed get some results in addition to better eating habits.

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When determination strikes I have the ability to walk away from most anything and everything....and so it goes with food. My role of Bessie has suffered a little this week due to the fact that on stress days I don't eat or drink much of anything at all and milk production is greatly affected by that little change in diet. Given the amount of physical energy exerted in the anaerobic activity of running and some days of P90X and the other days of lifting weights the little water I did have on board has been used up there. So, I need to drastically work on water intake this week in order to continue feeding babies. But, that said, how very amazingly grateful I am that they take bottles and will drink supplements. I vividly remember being unknowingly pregnant with Gavin and my milk suddenly and unexpectedly drying up for him at only 4 months. He cried for days as he refused bottles and went hungry and how desperate and exasperated I was over milk supply having taken an unexpected southward dive. We discovered 15 wks later I was pregnant with baby #7, thus the reason my milk dried up at a mere 4 months with #6. I usually exclusively nurse until I am pregnant again. For whatever reason my milk dries up in very early pregnancy. I was able to exclusively nurse G&G1 for 9 months before becoming pregnant again. I exclusively nursed Garrett for a mere 4 months before becoming pregnant with Gavin. He was 5 months exclusively nursing when Ivye's pregnancy popped up. She was 7 months when I showed up pregnant with sweet baby boy. Since that pregnancy lasted into the 2nd trimester my milk had long dried up and she was on solids by the time it was all over.

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Which brings me to a completely unrelated weight topic since we're already on it. I find it odd and a bit funny that people assume we do not exclusively nurse due to the fact I get pregnant so quickly after a baby. There are some serious misconceptions in the world that breastfeeding is like birth control and you will more than likely not get pregnant while nursing. While that is true...the more than likely part is entirely true also. We fall into the few that prove that theory wrong in a massive way.

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But....these boys are not exclusively nursed and how thankful I am for that. Sounds funny, I know.....but true, none the less. The ease of being able to get out of the house with all 10 is huge. And with babies taking bottles it helps this cause out dramatically. Since working husband is very rarely with us on outings anymore getting out the door on time is huge. And I'm a bit fanatical about being on time since it's an issue of respect for other people and their time. I don't exactly think it's entirely right and considerate to cause others to be inconvenienced or have to wait on you due to the fact you can't handle you're own life well and have personal time management issues. Another topic for another day.

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So, bunny trails there. Back to the topic at hand. I actually do love bottles and formula. And though the boys do nurse for the most part it takes the pressure off of being their soul source of nourishment and them potentially lagging behind in growth due to low milk supply issues. So, I actually embrace bottles with these little guys. And after I nurse them if they are still hungry they can actually have full stomachs because they actually take bottles. This is a huge milestone for me. Another area in life where I no longer feel I have to live up to the belief or expectation that you are an awful parent if you supplement. FREEDOM. It is amazing.

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So, anyway.......juicing has occurred daily and I'm on my 19th day of no refined sugar at all and still going strong. Determination and focus. It's a beautiful thing.

When You're a Little Outnumbered

There are days that go exceedingly well....most days, in fact. But then there are the days that don't go so exceedingly well....and yesterday was one of those days....of the not so entirely splendid sort. With working husband only appearing for 5 minutes every morning, enough time to come in from shift work to say hello and leave again, or waking up and parting.....and then coming home in time for dinner while he showers and I do the whole bedtime routine alone it very much feels like I am doing this whole thing alone sometimes....probably cause I pretty much am. And no...that is not a pity party, it's just the nature of the beast at this point. And how entirely grateful I am for the God given opportuntity to work this much and free ourselves from the chains of debt. We both are working our butts off to make this happen and we both are in agreement to the commitment required on both of our parts. And we both know it's a long hard haul until we get there. We are an amazing team and we can do this. We've successfully accomplished so many things in life together and this is certainly no different. God has blessed us with the ability to work this much and get out of debt and we will step up to the plate and do what it takes to make it happen. So...this is no pity party......though by mid morning yesterday it had kinda shaped up into one.



There are days...albeit not many of them...that just don't go according to plan at all....apparent to the world at large by the naked kid chopping down a tree in the front yard, the 4 boys simultaneously peeing on said tree together, way too many kids sliding down the sloping angle of our roof line onto the less angled, rather flat front porch roof and the naked little girl feeding cats out front, or a ton of kids creating the world's largest mud puddle via outside water spout and then covering themselves in mud to play "crawl through the grass army guys". And, honestly, I don't entirely mind the crawl through the grass army guy game unless it's 30 below. But...when town members call to tell you your kids are wasting water in the front yard it gets a little irritating.

And, the last few days have gone a little something like that. Never here neighbors showed up this past weekend, in which neighborly husband took Garrison over there to explain why exactly they have a new pane in their glass door. They seemed amiable enough....at least the husband did. His lovely wife....with which we share the driveway with....was still in the surly, cantankerous, kid hating mood she seems to stomp through life with and spent the entire weekend yelling at our children to get off of the swing that hangs from a tree bordering their property and claiming half of the driveway as their's as she mandated all children stay on our side. To say that my patience and virtues were tried a little doesn't even come close to painting an accurate picture of our weekend. We cooked out Friday night and by Sat morning all children were out playing again. Usually the fire pit is watered down after each use but exhausted husband grilled and we put children to bed and retired ourselves, with no more thought given to it. Grant, being Grant, pulled the grid off the pit Sat morning and it was only a matter of time before Gavin had fallen in. He walked away with only deep 1st degree burns on his lower back and one 2nd degree burn but once again my patience with life was tried. It could've been so much worse.

So....by yesterday morning life was looking up and we began our day. Though given our recent weekend experiences it was a little more sober than usual. With Grayson and Evye carrying out their morning responsibilities a little unwillingly and all little guys outside playing in backyard the doorbell rings. Getting ready to shower from having been baby puked on twice I throw on mismatched clothes trying to hurry to door. I catch bits of words to Evye that had already greeted doorbell ringing person..."Little girl....naked....down street." Person climbs back in car about the time I make it to door. She sees me, points west and laughs as the other 2 occupying her vehicle just wave laughingly. I look westward and, to my horror, am met with the sight of a little tiny familiar girl with wild crazy morning hair running farther and farther away from her domain in nothing....absolutely nothing....but mismatched socks and flower boots. With her already out of ear shot, no shoes on of my own and piercing goat heads lying around like landmines I intelligently holler to Evye.....who was already half way to her.....to go get her. As if couldn't get much worse, a good natured town acquaintance pulls up in his big ole truck and asks if we're missing some kids. I assure him we probably are. He continued on to inform me that we have "a ton of kids and dogs down there" pointing in the general direction in which naked kid was running for. I look closer and see way too may little red shirted figures scattered from here to California chasing after the swiftly disappearing into the horizon dogs. In total exasperation I call water plant working husband to go round up our family while I put shoes on. As Evye walks naked girl home Evye completely bends over and covers her naked little self everytime a car drove by...which was making it take ten times longer to get her home. With all of patience dissipated at this point I make my way to them snapping..."Evye! Why in the world are you covering her up???!!! She just streaked through town butt naked and put herself on public display for the world!!! I don't think 4 cars are really going to matter at this point!" So, lifted into Evye's arms with front plastered to her chest and feeble attempts to cover her bare naked butt with a small ten year old hand, she was taken home and I jumped in truck to round up the rest of our merry little brood now scattered over a 20 mile radius.

I was seething a little at this point. All walking 8 were given a much deserved sermon by husband and requests were made for me to man my domain a little better as to avoid CPS being called on us. Then his truck faded away once more and I was left again for the 143rd day in a row...alone....to do it all. And the self inflicted pity party started along with the mounting anger of having been asked to maintain my responsibilities a little better. Walking back in the house I was met with quarreling older children and I'd had it. I'd had it with bad attitudes, fighting, streaking kids, loose dogs, bad tempered neighbors, dishonest people, fault finding extended family members, the broken swing that never gets fixed, an absent husband that is only seen for an hour a day, cooking, cleaning a house that is never clean, 100% responsibility for absolutely everything that takes place within the four walls of our home, a messy carport, a teenage boy trying to find his hormonal balance, hot fire pits, horses freed from pastures by 3 year old boys, tick infested dogs, internally bleeding chewed up cats, Sudafed eating 2 year olds and so on. Soooo.....I kinda proceeded to scream and yell and jump up and down and cry and predict that all of life is coming to an end. The ten little mini me's that stood and sat around watched in total silence as I, quite literally, threw the biggest fit ever known to mankind.

And then I slammed a door...the most unpardonable sin in the house.


Nice, huh? I think I just won the award for Proverbs 31 woman of the year.


I promptly barked orders for oldest son to grab 30 foot ladder and triumphantly proclaimed that the swing, broken for months now, was going to be fixed today. There are things that never home husband prefers me not to fix but, generally, when I get on a roll these are the go to things that get fixed. In my home repair repertoire I have plumbed, painted, hung crap up, put furniture together, trimmed lofty trees, moved storage sheds, hauled stuff up to the attic that more than one person probably should've moved together, and torn out entire built-in entertainment centers. With a quiet, "Umm...mom? Daddy's not home. Are you going to call him home to fix it?" I managed to bark out "Nope" and kept walking. At that point everyone knew better than to question any activity taking place. So, in 20 mph winds gusting up to 30 I hauled 30 foot ladder to 80 foot tree. And we continued to therapeutically wrestle and then wrestle some more with wind and ladder. After forever and a day ladder was propped into place 20 feet into the air ...despite the fact it was facing backwards.....and I marched to the top of it...only to discover that prevailing winds mandated the bottom of it be held in place. So, I climbed right back down, held base of ladder while 13 year old now climbed to top only to discover new link for chain was way too big. Now on a life mission, measures were taken to ensure the too big link was indeed fitting in holes, and pliers were located. Existing links were forcefully and determinedly bent to accommodate new one. After about 45 minutes swing was fixed and I moved on to work off the rest of my bad attitude.

With Plyometrics being the P90X of the day I determinedly pushed play. Which only resulted in yet more frustration due to the fact I have been at this now for 2 weeks, muscles still scream, and I still cannot keep up. After half an hour, being near death, gawking children stood around. "Mom? You're not doing it like them." I puffed back, "If it's not going to encourage don't open your mouth! And STOP staring!" The goal was to just complete the first half hour given the quality of the day. But, having zero tolerance for quitters and whiners, that plan didn't work out so well either. So when the pause button was hit so was my frustration button. Determinedly I unpaused and finished it out with children now effortlessly and quite breathlessly carrying it out with me to encourage to the end. Is there even such thing as encouragement when when you're half dead as children laugh and complete every exercise you're feebly attempting to do as legs no longer even offer support and muscle fatigue occurred about 82 squats ago???? So, they jumped and bounced and hopped on one foot and squatted while I struggled to stay out of the coffin and complete the 379th jump squat of the day.

Between fighting with the ladder for an hour and working out for an hour any and all energy required to maintain a bad attitude was pretty depleted so I headed back indoors to simmer down a little and get a new perspective. I took one glance at the house that seemed to have puked up in a mere hour every toy, dirty dish and laundry article it had ever held within and I turned around and walked right back out the door I had just entered. Strapping babies in Ergos I set off with every kid we ever thought about having to the park down the street where they could wear their butts out....having every intention of bedding them down at 5:00 pm.

Eventually we did come home. With Brad having some amount of pity on my bad tempered self he fixed dinner. Sap covered, tree climbing, dirt eating children were bathed and showered and put to bed...at 7:30...not exactly the 5:00 I had envisioned. And I took my cranky butt to bed and woke up with a new lease on life and ready to do it all over again....with a better attitude.

So, that sums up the last few days of my life. Just being honest and keeping it real, my friends. This is real life...the good, the bad and the ugly.

Weekly Weigh-in - the post partum twin journey down

After 2 weeks I am down 10.6 official lbs per Weight Watchers and working out...with only 20 lbs more to go. I'm almost half way there. I have successfully used WW each and every time after having babies and it proves to be no different this time. P90X is coming along well though there is no denying that it challenges body, mind and soul. After having completed a hardcore, 4 month bootcamp routine 3 months after baby #3 I can safely say this ranks right up there with it. It feels good! I love the feeling of growing strength and the ability to conquer all. If I can do it...anybody with determination can.


Adoring husband has proven to be quite in love no matter what shape I am. But, reality is....I happen to be much more in love with my own self when I know I am doing something about it and actually feel sexy. My days are better, my attitude's better and it breaks the blues of feeling like I have done nothing but school, nurse babies and stay in sweat pants all day going in circles cleaning house. And, as a husband, he loves more than anything in life when I feel good for him. So, with him feeling quite in the mood to celebrate sexy he's arranged for a date night tonight. And I go in a size smaller with some muscle definition beginning to take shape! Feelin' pretty good.

Randomness

I know this is getting completely mundane and boring but there are days when I do not sit at all except to nurse...and it is entirely difficult to type an entire blog post one handed. So, these little snippets of life will have to suffice for now. My emotions long to write but my life dictates differently most days during this season of life

Since the simple woman's daybook is temporarily taking a break and there's nowhere to link I'll continue just cause I think it's fun....and once again reiterate that it's an easy filler until I can sit and type something with more than one hand.

Ouside my window.....windows open, barking dogs, laughing trampoline jumping kids and a world bathed in sunlight

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I am thinking....that people who alter signed, legal contracts are dishonest, should be shot in the butt with a .22 and made aware that it is a federal offense punishable by law.

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I am thankful for.....clean, big towels when I get out of the shower. This should never be taken for granted by anyone...as drying off with hand towels is so entirely unpleasant. One of life's smallest yet greatest, most enjoyable gifts. Clean big bath towels.

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I am wearing.....running shorts and a t-shirt. And yes....I have changed clothes since the last time I documented what I was wearing on this thing. And it feels good. Scale numbers are headed south and inches are falling away.

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I am hearing....Felt Good on my Lips by Tim McGraw, a 4 year old's incessant talking, a screamy 2 year old, the soft crinkle of two tiny boys playing happily with their crinkly elephants, and a ton of laughing, trampoline jumping kids with a ton of barking dogs at their heels...though we already clarified that point.

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I am remembering......that I have not done much wash in the last day and a half and the utility room currently looks like an F-5 went through it. It's a very scary place right now and I have no desire to enter it.....but I should.

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I am reading......One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp....yes, still.

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I am hoping.....that my layered hair will all grow back in quickly cause I just really have discovered I dislike layers in every way. Stringy, tangled witch hair...and we don't do witches around here...but somehow my hair seems to qualify at the present moment.

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On my mind.....that it's taken me 26 hours to write this one post.

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Noticing that.......that the world at large should really be aware that electric garage doors without electricity do not lower anything like a normal garage door...but, in fact, have the ability to shoot themselves down at rocket force speeds somewhere around 100 miles an hour with about 30,000 lbs of pressure. And when one is unaware of this little bit of information and one's lower left leg and foot is under said door the foot will not fit properly into shoes for weeks...and, in fact, hurts to run or P90X at all...and both leg and foot will remain largely swollen and strange, foreboding, onminous colors for weeks.

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Pondering these words....Garrett:

"That guy's poop stinks cause he's a bad guy."

"Oh really?? And your poop doesn't stink cause you're a good guy???"

"Well....my poop stinks but not as bad as that guys cause his REALLY stinks....cause he's a bad guy. And all bad guys have super stinky poop."

Who knew?

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From the kitchen.....juiced celery, broccoli, carrots, tomato, cucumber and apple

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Around the house.....the kids that are back home from fishing with all the turtles they caught still in hand

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One of my favorite things....beautiful spring night, stars by the millions, windows rolled down with heater turned on high

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From my picture journal....

The extra spare freezer and life with many boys

2 teeth at a mere 16 weeks!

The Count to a thousand

#26 - yellowy lights of homesteads dotting rural highway

27# - huge shiny fire trucks sitting in bay

#28 - weight of baby sleeping soundly on my chest

#29 - dark night breeze.....soft on skin like silk

#30 - big red newly washed truck alone to self in the night...hair unleashed, windows down and music

#31 - smell of baby all shampooed and washed and lotioned

#32 - little boys holding turtles...gleeful, laughing with eyes bright

#33 - scale numbers that continue their downward fall, inches falling away...feeling of unsurpassed inner strength, growing physical strength and the power of knowing I can accomplish anything in life

Everyday Pics

Trying to get pics of his tooth...of which neither attempt worked.

Not really looking like such a little boy anymore

6 year olds playing with the camera

Somehow we have 6 beds with enough room to sleep 8 all within one room and they end up on one twin size bed.

Big Twins....with a little bit of height difference going on now

Looking so much bigger and older these days

Seemingly always messy hair and half naked. Her self inflicted bangs are getting longer.

Two happy boys

Cleaning the playroom

My sweet redhead

Still cleaning the playroom

The Post Partum Journey Down: week 16 after twins #2

Edited to crop the current pics, as my children were kind enough to enlighten me that you can't really see anything from 50 feet away. The cropped pics are motivation, in its finest form, to get up and move. I have a goal and I still have every intention of running a 5k.

So, I decided that just as I picture journaled the twin journey up so I will picture it down....probably every 3 weeks or so. It's a little late to begin this since they're 4 months old this week but seeing as how I still have quite a bit to lose and shape back up I suppose it's better than nothing. Both P90X and Weight Watchers have recommended I keep a picture log of the journey down....so, here we go!

And since I have struggled with weight in the past I just don't want to be there again....ever. Controversial story of that here. Read at your own risk. Plus the fact I just really love running and working out since it helps maintain perspective on all of life and aids in keeping my sanity on days I fear it's quite in jeopardy.

Today - the beginning: 14 wks post partum

I have run and toyed with P90X for the last 2 weeks but am starting in full force tomorrow. I have a goal and I fully intend to reach it. And yes...that is a chicken egg on the wall behind me to the left. They're supposed to toss the cracked ones out in the pasture. Some choice little people never make it out to the pasture to toss....as evident here.

For comparison....The beginning of the pregnancy - 9 wks and running 2 miles 3 times a week.

So...from this

To this...

40 weeks with twins

And back again...

Today, just for comparison, in the same jeans I started the pregnancy pics in. I've got some work to do. And no...I'm not pregnant again. That's just the lumpy stomach. Fun, huh? I seriously think it's the same size I was at 9 wks. Oh well. Nothing that some 3,000 sit ups a day won't cure.....maybe.

From Their Mouths

They say stuff all the time that keeps me laughing. These were all said in the span of just yesterday.

Garrett: "Mom, this Baby A is not God"

Me: "Ummm....no,baby. Graham is not God."

Garrett: "And this Baby B is not God."

Me: "Nope. He's not God either."

Garrett: "But that's ok cause they both look like God."

Not sure where that one came from but it was worthy of note.

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And then comes last night. Just when you think you love them.
In a quick trip to grab a few things at Wal Mart I took in Aubrey, Garrison and Grant.

Me: "Do y'all see any Weight Watchers snacks?" ....and yes, they know what these are.

After a minute, the 3 of them in unison: "No ma'am."

Me: "Alright, well if y'all are going to come in with me you've got to help look. We can't stay in here forever....so look quick."

Dragging them through the packed, small town Wal Mart there was little room to even get down an isle...and they tend to talk loud enough for anyone within a 3 mile radius to hear. So, all of Wal Mart was in on this conversation.

Grant: "Why do you need Weight Watcher snacks? Why can't you just eat the normal ones?"

Garrison...before I could answer: "Cause she has alot of flubber."

Shocked, I turned and asked "Who does??"

Garrison: "You do!"

Aubrey: "Garrison, that's rude! You don't ever tell anyone they have alot of flubber, right mom?"

Garrison: "Well...I'm just being true. She has it on her stomach cause she's had fifty hundred babies."

Me: "Well...thank you, son. I'm feeling quite endeared to you right now."

Aubrey, taking up quite the offense: "Mom, I won't tell you that you have lots of squishy skin flubber right there cause it's just not nice at all...even though you do."


Just when I thought they were really starting to get the whole politically correct thing. Nothing like children...quite a few of them....to keep reality close at hand. Oh well...I am quite certain adoring husband is quite in love with it so we're good.

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And since Brad has lovingly nicknamed our little duo Baby A and Baby B the children now call them this quite lovingly as well. Garrett has always been known as "Shorty" to Brad. He and Ivye are the only ones that refer to him as this but he answers to it like his name.....except Ivye's version is "Shurty." Brad calls Gavin "Little Bit" and Ivye is known as "Pixie" to her daddy. So, the little babies are known as A and B....to the point that the children don't know their names but tell people who's A and who's B. Lovely.

Garrett: "Mom, this is baby A."

"Yep...that's Graham."

"And this is the other one."

"Yep...that's Gatlin."

"No...I don't know his real name. I forgot his number."

"His real name is Gatlin."

"But is he Baby X?"

"No, buddy, he is not Baby X."

"Well then, what's his real name?"

"His real name is Gatlin but daddy calls him Baby B."

"Oh yeah...Baby B. That's his real name."

And he skips off.

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Upon Evye telling me for the 149th time her nose itched...and honestly I was just really sick of hearing her talk about it...

"Ev...just pick it. It's probably a wiggly booger."

With a little laugh..."Mom, I don't have any boogers."

"Well...just pick it anyway."

"Mom, what's the point of going fishing in an empty pond???"

I couldn't very well argue with that one.

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Said this morning about the 600 sq ft detached playroom....

Me, with much enthusiasm: "Today we get to clean the playroom!!!"

....sighs from everyone around....

Evye: "Mom, why do you get soooo excited about cleaning stuff????"

Me: "Cause we can start P90Xing out there instead of the den. They'll be tons more room."

Evye: "Yes ma'am. But why do you ALWAYS get so excited about cleaning everything?"

"Well....cause it puts everything in its place and there's no clutter laying around. It just feels good. And you can't think clear in a crapped out space."

Evye: "You have 10 kids. You can't think clear anywhere."

Sooo....that one holds a little truth too.

To Live the Dream and Be Blessed

He squeaks and grunts and I am roused from light sleep. I know....my body tells me clearly....that daybreak is imminent. So for the 4th time in a mere 8 hours I rise and try not to be discouraged. My day has begun after only 3 hours of sleep. And I smile at him, his feathery light little self still needing round the clock sustenance for small body. His face lights up at the sight of me in the street lamp shadows. I smile back, whispering sweet affection for this baby of mine. Shift husband's alarm jolts mother and baby out of early morning reverie and I know it's 5:30am...confirmation of the upcoming dawn. I sigh, knowing there is no hope for more sleep, and baby busies himself with nursing. Momentarily he breaks from his sucking regime to flash a huge toothless smile upwards before continuing on. So, I lay self aside....desires of the flesh....and know that I can do this. I can make it through my day because I am blessed and I have been given the grace to do this and rise to the task at hand. How I yearned to be at this place in life only 18 short months ago. So many tears shed fearing I would never know this again. Yet here we are are at 5:30 am on a random Wednesday morning in life with baby at breast as the soft breathing of another growing life only feet away fills my ears. It's a sweet life and God is good throughout it all...through the fire, through the heartache, through the tears, through the loss and the guilt, and once we emerge on the other side.

Husband rolls over in the early morning. Big warm hand traces bare leg and he smiles at me in the quiet before turning attention to baby and rubbing little redhead. Baby once again pauses in his nursing vigil to smile yet again and coo endearment to his daddy. Clear blue husband eyes return to look into mine as he fingers and toys with long strands of thick dark hair, his absolute love and devotion to me apparent in the early morning darkness. How in love with him I am....lover of everything about me and amazing daddy to our children....provider, protector, funny one that can make me laugh when no one else can. Oldest son appears to ready for his day at work, breaking the quiet moment, and with the flipping of light switch my day begins.

I seek to be realistic in this journey of parenting and large family living. And I will not even begin to come close to saying it is easy or that it lacks challenges. That said, I think there is some measure of grace extended by the Lord to carry out this passion and love of life. It is massive amounts of hard work, from the sheer reality of keeping a small house presentable and sanitary with many people living within to the extensive amount of emotional investment poured into the lives of our children. Balancing the schooling of older ones and the needs of younger ones and all of the other things that I have found that go along with this stage in life. It's all in there and all part of it. But with the work, the hardships, the struggles, the continual search for balance comes the rewards of a thousand years in the span of one short lifetime. More joy, more contentment and more thanksgiving than I could ever have known attainable in life. It is an extraordinary life.

Now that the older children are beginning to grow into independence and lives beyond the four walls of home it is an amazing thing to finally be able to see tangibly what we have worked so very hard at these many years. Little kisses from heaven encouraging the heart. In days past I used to despise the attention our merry little crew would draw. Quiet, introverted self feeling out of place and uncomfortable at the sudden shift into spotlight. I think after the arrival of twins #1 and after baby #6 the comments and public opinion reached their worst. After #7 and #8 it was more shock at the sheer size of the family and the very young ages of children, but now with the arrival of twins #2 the comments and questions and entirely curious public have transitioned into encouragement to the mothering heart. And I just don't mind anymore. Gentle ways the Lord teaches and brings me out of my own self in order to learn to communicate beyond my comfort zone and for our family to be a testimony and encouragement to others. Derogatory statements have turned to those of praise and admiration over the years as our family has grown. No longer really scorned we have transitioned into a novelty to the public at large. And the doors that have been opened to meet new people as a result are still so amazing to me. This road we walk is a blessed one.

Yesterday while on the road to get Aubrey we were stopped by a sweet grandmother who told her daughter's story. 2 year old fraternal twin girls, 3 weeks of bedrest beginning at 32 wks and delivered by c/s at 35 wks with a few weeks of NICU. And I was once again reminded how blessed we have been. 2 sets of full term twins, 40+ wk babies, a natural hospital birth and a homebirth, and perfectly healthy babies. God is good and answered the prayers lifted up throughout each pregnancy...my every heart's desire. She sang the praises of our children and their behaviour and my heart was once again encouraged by the little kisses of encouragement the Lord sends to keep morale up and the, at times, weary body going. We are counted over and again and the novelty of our cheery, active little brood only seems to grow. And my discomfort with it all finally seems to fade over time.

While on my own with all 10 last week we were approached by a kind woman as we grocery shopped. Grayson backpacked Gatlin while I wore Graham on my chest. She marveled at the children and little twins and then, a bit suddenly, her eyes welled with tears as she told her story. Daughter suffered 6 miscarriages, both early and late, and now overwhelmingly blessed with "natural", or politically correctly known as spontaneous, twins. 1st grandbabies for her and she cried over the heartache it's taken to get here and the blessing they are....that children are. She was full of questions...like most people are. We meet many, many people like this and are continually stopped to hear of other's life stories. And the fingers....they point and they count and the low rumbling of the whispers could vibrate the floor of a room...but I just don't mind anymore. It is part of it and part of embracing where we are. To stop and take the time to listen, to be personable and take the time to move beyond self is what it's all about. To be the touchable, tangible testimony to which people can relate.

I find it funny at this stage in life that people assume that Evye and Aubrey are twins, as there is only a 2 in height difference between them, and that Garrett and Gavin are twins. When assuming we have 4 sets people usually reply after being told we have two sets with..."Ohhh! Only 2??!!" "Only two" is a bit humorous to me. As if it's perfectly normal to go birthing children in pairs. And the how many sets of twins and triplets still come. And the 3 boys are, more often than not, assumed to be triplets if they don't pair the 4 up as 2 sets of twins. People are funny to me and never cease to be an amusement.

We are now approached by many wherever we go. Being stopped no less than 20 times has become a regular occurrence...and 20 is nowhere near an exaggeration. It has taken time for my tolerance of this to grow and come to the realization that this is an opportunity to encourage others and show everyone that we are very much real in every way...fallible, common, everyday people that just happen to have been given a ton of kids. The problem I have found with pedestals is that no mortal man can balance precariously atop their stilt for long.....and it's a 1,000 foot fall to concrete when you come crashing down....and crashing down you will indeed come. But people tend to place these large families on huge towering pedestals that nobody can ever live up to. And the wannabe large families currently in the making tend to idolize the larger ones and set the number of children as something to attain or a goal to make. To me, it kind of loses the blessing of it all when it comes down to a competition between women over how many children they can sport to their name or see how many they can cram into as little time as humanly possible. We do have 10 children born in 12 years but I can honestly and sincerely say that if I learned anything through the loss of our baby it would be that bearing children is not my identity. And only other large family mothers that have reached this place would ever understand that statement and the depth that it holds. It's not a competition or about who has more or "catching up to the Duggar's". It's the ugly side of large families that no one ever really wants to address. But, it's there. The Lord has been mericful enough and so entirely gracious enough to once again assure that my focus is on Him and not anything else in life. I am the wife of Brad, mother to 10 children, and I have a purpose in life that is so much greater than what I can see. It's not about what I do or do not possess physically, it's not about the number of children I parent, it's not about homeschooling, it's not about having multiple multiples. It's about Him and where He wants me to be....where my thoughts are....where my focus is. And how blessed I feel to be here now, where I am and truly be able to say that if these 2 little guys were our last children I would be content. My heart is full, my life is full and my cup runneth over.

But, the pedestal thing....yeah...it can suck at times. And this blog, started as an attempt to put keyboard to emotions and create a written legacy for our children, has inadvertently become a public glimpse into the realities of large family living. And I seek to make this journey as real as it gets. Good days, bad days, praise, admiration, opinions, scorn and all that goes along with doing something as controversial as living this lifestyle. One of the greatest blessings ever encountered along this journey has been the ability to lay down trying to live up to everyone else's standards, trying to please anyone and everyone and just live the way we live.

More kisses from the Lord as He sends His messengers of encouragement....as we shopped as a family and were approached numerous times not long ago one particular lady came to admire and sing her praises of children's behaviour and manners. We paused from shopping to listen as she spoke of her childhood, of her memories of being raised in a large family, the bond and friendships between siblings and other things. She took a moment to speak to each of the children and kindly questioned the older ones with some small talk. They answered politely and we eventually parted ways with her gently patting each of the children and praising each of them. No more thought was given to the incident. Half an hour later the same kind woman returned and tugged my sleeve as she stood behind me. I turned to see her again as she reached for my hand and grasped it within her's. With deep gratitude and a teary thank you she actually thanked me for raising such amazing children, what an encouragement we are and slipped a folded bill into my hand as she walked away. She slipped around the corner never to be seen again as I unfolded a 50.00 bill.

Many stories I could tell of that nature. And how it blesses me to know that this job of parenting that sweet husband and I work so diligently together at does not go in vain. And that not only are our children a joy to us but also have the ability to be a joy to others as well. In the worst moments as we seek to figure out this whole thing and the attitudes that have the ability to come forth at home is the discovery that somewhere within them all it is paying off. The Lord does indeed honor those that seek Him diligently. And what an amazing thing it is to finally be able to see the fruits of our labor. And on the tough days...those days of little sleep and the days I grow weary from attitudes or sibling rivalry, the days I seem to go in circles and never make any progress at all and productivity wanes in every way....those are the days I think on these things and know how blessed we are. That the Lord does indeed encouarge the mothering heart.

This life...despite its hardships, trials and merciless thoughts that continually pound at the brain needing to be taken captive...is an absolutely amazing journey. And this seemingly sudden leap into "stardom"..said with much lightheartedness....despite my discomfort with it at times, is growing me into a whole new person...one that's learning to communicate, convey accurately the feelings that lie within, and move beyond self to be stretched far beyond the comfort zone.

Oldest appears to report that chores are completed and husband dresses in the soft closet light. He nears and caresses Baby A before turning attention to me. His hands weave themselves through strands of messy hair and I lean into him. He kisses my head as I wish him home like everyday before. Diesel rumbles away with husband and oldest son and I am left to my morning coffee and the temporary early quiet. How very amazing it is to be so loved and so steeped in beauty. It's a beautiful life.

Baby's 1st Tooth

I've begun multiple entires but in the end just delete them all due to various interruptions and never being able to finish a train of thought. This really has not become the simple woman's daybook blog but it's quick and requires very little brain activity so it's an easy filler. Preoccupation reigns a little right now along with the busyness of life. We've been in Fort Worth the last two weekends and have also traveled to husband's parents twice in order to get children where they need to be while they visit and spend time with friends and family. I love being on the road but it leaves little time for much else. So, with all 3 of the older ones home now we settle back into a routine and re-establish order. And with that will hopefully come some much needed time to pour forth thoughts.

But an honorable mention is the breaking through of Gatlin's 1st tooth at the ripe old age of 3 1/2 months. The earliest we have had any children cut any teeth was 5 months and that was Garrett. But most have come around 8-12 months, with 2 of them getting their 1st tooth the week of their 1st birthday. So, to see a tiny, little milky white tooth emerge at 3 months was a massive shock to us all. Sweet boy who cannot for the life of him figure out what that new thing is in his mouth.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

Outside my window....windy early morning darkness with the light of an almost full moon to the west and the dim haze of sunrise to the east.

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I am thinking....I miss Evye but how grateful I am for these opportunities for our older children to broaden their world and expand their knowledge of life.

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I am thankful for....two paid off vehicles, a CD player within one of those vehicles and good music on road trips. I love music.

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I am wearing....Spandex running shorts with wind shorts over that and one of firefighting husband's cut off sleeve t-shirts

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I am hearing.....Bring It On Home by Little Big Town....a favorite

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I am remembering....that I have a very clean bathroom and the laundry is done. Both immense everyday joys to the heart.

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I am going.....to P90X before children awake.

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I am reading.....Radical. An amazing book that speaks my heart well.

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I am hoping....that the long road of forgiveness has an end. And that oneday I will look up and our nightmare of a story will be an amazing biography of forgiveness, which I feel none of right now. That the rocketing feelings of wishing death by fiery car crash and strange, contradictory sympathy will somehow make sense in the end when life is all said and done.

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On my mind....lots of stuff.

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Noticing that.....I just really hate the smell of Gain laundry detergent. Nastiness. Tide and Snuggle. But really we don't even use Tide anymore though it is by far my favorite detergent smell. Charlie's Soap is safe for cloth diapers...which we are not currently using...and is only .8 cents a load compared to Tide, which is a whopping .25 cents a load...which equals spending your life savings on detergent when you do as many loads as we do. So, clean smelling Charlie's Soap it is and the generic Sam's brand of Snuggle.

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Pondering these words....."He's taking a break from taking a break." Garrett

....so does that mean he went back to work, son????

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From the kitchen.....English muffins with Nutella, yogurt, chocolate milk and bananas for breakfast for everybody....except bananas for me. I don't do bananas.

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Around the house......the quiet of early morning

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One of my favorite things.....peace of mind and heart.

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From my picture journal.....

One of my beautiful boys

A twin with twins.

And, yes..he desperately needed a haircut. He's looking a bit fluffy. 5 little boys all lined up yesterday all got haircuts.

My "Valentime"

Garrison came to me yesterday, the 15th, saying, "Mom, I love you so so much and I just want to give you a Valentime. I did this for you." I bend down to meet huge green eyes and exclaim with wonder the sweetness of his gift. With a hug I tell him how very much I love him as he presents me with his little red cardboard heart.




We do not actually celebrate Valentine's Day around here. Honestly, I think it's an over commercialized ploy for the world at large to benefit and make millions on overpriced flowers, nasty red teddy bears and boxes of chocolate. You probably could buy them any other time of the year...except for the disgustingly ugly bears.... for a fraction of the cost. Along with the aforementioned overpriced items it seems to me just like an obligatory love day in which women set expectations that their husband may or may not ever be able to live up to. A perfect example of this would be the guys reactions as a Valentine's commercial hit the TV room at the station at 9pm Sunday night the 13th. One casually asked, "When is Valentine's Day anyway?" Shift husband answered simply, "Tomorrow" and panic ensued. Three of the four guys flew out of recliners. Seeming a bit panic stricken they exclaimed a few expletives and hurried out the door, as it slammed with their disappearance. Husband knew not where they went. My guess was to order some overpriced bouquet of flowers and haul butt to the Walgreen's across the street so their wives would not berate them for having "forgotten" them. Seriously...does your husband forget you??? Or is your value and self worth as his mate seriously placed on whether he remembers what date is on the calendar...especially when it comes down to a secular obligatory love day. I rather have him express it on some random day just because I was on the brain and not because the world tells him

to remember me.

To me, it just doesn't really seem like a true expression of love if it comes because the world at large has mandated my husband should produce some obligatory love object on this specific day as two million and four couples wed on this day and three billion men are also giving their wives some obligatory token of affection. Ok...so I just used the word obligatory 3 times within the last few sentences but for lack of any other word that comes to the brain it seems to portray my feelings pretty fairly on this subject. So, anyway, I have no doubt that good intentioned husband's mean it but it just always seems a little forced. I'd rather open my eyes any day of the year to a Frappachino in his hand as he wakes me when returning home from station. Or the surprise of the Diet Dr Pepper sitting on the top shelf of the frig that he bought me while out running errands...just because I'm always on his mind. Or the pumpkin coffee creamer in the bag that I never asked for yet he knew I was almost out. Or have him randomly throw in a load of laundry just because he knows that I have worked my butt off all day long and it was one of the things I just didn't get to and forgot to remind children to do. Or the mopped floors.....the blissfully pristine mopped floors....that I did not mop.


And, quite honestly, after dozens of wildflower bouquets picked excitedly by children, store bought ones seem a bit meaningless and expensive for something that can be so much more lovingly picked for free out in the middle pasture. And I love free. The simply spoken words, "You're the most prettiest mama in the whole world" that usually go with it or adoring husband's "You're still beautiful to me" are worth more than anything produced on Valentine's Day.

Everyday is Valentine's Day around here. We teach our children to live by 1 Cor 13 and that it's a daily lifestyle...that it's commitment and it takes work. Love is an emotion but it's always a choice of little decisions made throughout your day to show it.

All of that said, the history of Valentine's day is really interesting and we do use it for a history lesson every year, just as we use St Patrick's day for history and MLK day, July 4th, ect. But we just don't really officially celebrate it.....though the heart cookie cutters are fun to buy to make biscuits with all year long. And yes, we rebuy them every year because inevitably they're going to end up making dirt hearts in the flowerbed sometime between now and Feb 14th 2012. So, really it's just more of a history lesson for our crew than actually buying or making stuff.

But given the fact I did actually receive a Valentine yesterday I thought I would share the rest of the story. After being so lovingly presented with his little red heart I later went in the kitchen to discover the origin of it. Just doesn't get much sweeter than this.

Potty Training Theories

From the archives. As I have been both peed and pooped on numerous times within the last 48 hours it brought to mind this post from August 25, '07. My sentiments do not differ any from the date this was posted.

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Alright, I have endorsed No Greater Joy under my favorite websites. And for any of you that are long time fans you might should just skip this little entry on my rambling thoughts about it all. I found it so laughable I had to get this all down before I ever forget it all later on down the road in the busyness of years long gone.

So, I eagerly await the Above Rubies and No Greater Joy magazines' arrivals. At times they're both a stretch for me but for the most part I'm right there with them and just loving the articles. The stretchy parts are things such as nursing until they're 5 and issues similar to them. I think when they're old enough to ask, "Hey mom, can I have a swig before bedtime?" it's time to cut the boob out. And I definitely haven't quite reached sainthood in feeding my family raw everything mixed with organic dirt, rocks and seaweed. But I'm getting closer to that one.

Anyway, I hungrily devoured the newly arrived NGJ last night as I nursed. Then I came across the wonderful little bit about potty training. Let me just start with some of their article.

"Every time we put a diaper on a NEWBORN baby and allow him to soil it, we are conditioning him to accept that as normal. We impart a habit."

Soooooooo........does this strike anyone as a bit odd? Um, yes. It then goes into how you can succeed to potty train from birth...like as in 2 minutes old. She then proceeds to tell the world that she watches for signs of discomfort in her newborn and then holds it over the commode! Now let's just evaluate and think here for a minute. I've had plenty of experience in my newborn diaper changing career. I can assure you that they poop at any given moment and continue pooping for 5 straight minutes. I think they have a tube that goes straight from mouth to butt with no stopping points. So, as I read I began to envision myself adapting these new techniques. With infant attached at the boob I run to the toilet and hang his little butt over it, therefore creating an unnatural and very uncomfortable position of babe with mouth on boob and butt over toilet...his little body dangling between 2 worlds of point of entrance and point of exit. And then I began to debate how you even got the poop to go in the toilet. I have yet to have a newborn that does not have a blowtorch located within his bum. I can assure you with most certainty that the exiting poop will not only fail to gently fall into the toilet but will succeed in spray painting the very farthest surface from you......including any and all sibling onlookers. And after you wrongly assume the super human force behind it all has died down the babe then begins to spout a jetted fountain of pee up into the attic and probably on into the realms of space...and it falls like rain on those around. So, just how do you position superman's baby over the toilet, balancing precariously between needs of front and back? My kids would have to be IN the toilet to have all of their bodily functions contained within it. After I finished the article I gazed lovingly at the Pamper's box sitting in the bedroom floor and almost felt the need to write it a thank you note. I love my children dearly and believe firmly in laying firm foundations.......and they can just go right ahead and keep laying their firm...or not so firm......foundations right there in their booty covers. I cannot be more thankful that I sleep peacefully through the night instead of tripping my way to the bathroom with him in my arms in my near zombie like state as Krakatoa starts the beginning of its eruptions for the 144th time that night. What kind of people do this????!!!!!

And here's a few funnies of the past week.

I overheard Grayson and Evye at the lunch table completely engrossed in their own conversation and talking in animated tones. Evye was telling him of the part in Anne of Avonlea where Matthew dies out in the pasture. With huge eyes and complete sincerity she said, "Yea, he was just cattling cows out in the pasture and he had a heart attack!"

And then Grayson, upon being asked by me what his friend's mom looks like, answered, "She looks like she just woke up all day long. And she's alot uglier than you."

Well......thank you ,Grayson. Miss America here I come...your competition may just win out yet.

Edited to add: Remember this was posted in Aug '07 and pics reflect that.

And I was looking through last year's pictures and found these. This is sister, brother and I at the big everybody birthday party last August right before we moved. I'm in the middle holding Garrett. He was only 4 1/2 months old. I was actually already pregnant with Gavin....though I wouldn't know it for another 4 months.

And here's this whole side of the family that same night. Of my 6 kids, the girls are in their brown shirts with their ivory tank tops and the boys are in their red Osh Kosh shirts and I'm holding Garrett. Brad was still commuting and on shift so he couldn't be there for the party. The other 8 kids are sister's. She found out about 3 wks ago she's pregnant with #9.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

Outside my window....beautiful sunshine.

I am thinking.....that lots of big and little kids running fever is a really pathetic scene.

I am thankful for.....an amazing relationship with my husband, my mom and the most amazing friend one could ever desire. Blessedly healthy, sweet relationships.

From the kitchen.....chicken noodle soup and Sprite.

I am wearing....black yoga pants and a breast cancer awareness, bright pink, husband rejected, dept uniform t-shirt.

I am pondering.....the fact that I need to drop about 40 lbs. Kinda daunting. But...I'm on a mission to shed. "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." And I just did 2 miles of my thousand mile journey. Gotta start somewhere...and I've started! I've lost it before and I can do it again.

I am going....to hit the Sonic Happy Hour and buy us all cokes for 4.00.

I am hoping.... that I can make it through the rest of this day without getting peed or pooped on again.

I am reading.....One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp...still going on that one. Was supposed to finish it several nights ago....but, life happened.

I am hearing.....the sweet, dove like cooing from my two smiley,handsome, tiny boys.

Around the house.... too. much. crap.

One of my favorite things....to feel like I have achieved.

From my picture journal....