To-do Lists and Loving Reminders

I think sometimes there is this erroneous assumption that being a full time homemaker means having loads of free time. I suppose if all my children were in school and not homeschooled, I might have a few extra hours to devote to other things. As it stands, though, I find that I'm busy cooking, doing laundry, preparing lessons, teaching, monitoring the potty for my newly potty trained tot, finding ways to entertain my tot while teaching, trying to keep my 5 year old on task when he would rather play with my 2 year old tot, making dinner for my husband before he leaves for work, getting kits to soccer/girl scouts/church, coming home to make late dinner and trying desperately to get kids cleaned up and into bed... There are seasons that aren't so busy with the extra curricular, but sometimes it's truly a family circus. In the past, I've gotten frustrated, which motivated me to manage my time better. I carried real notebook calendars, downloaded apps, but still never really put them into practice effectively. I'd either forget my notebook, or I'd find the task applications not user friendly or customizable enough for my needs. I finally found one that works with my Google calendar and gmail. If I'm diligent with putting everything into either my calendar or task app, I manage to keep most things in mind. It's only when I fail to put it in that I forget.
What I'm more excited about is using this list to keep God's word ever before my eyes. It allows me to create reminders and set the time they pop up. I've been using this app for several months, but I've only recently started putting Bible verses on the list. A few weeks ago, I was having a rather taxing day, and I was really finding it difficult to stay positive. I decided to put a few verses in my schedule that might help me to walk in love. Since the first day, I've added several more. At first I was saying verses for myself and my attitude. Then, I added one for my children, and one for my husband. It pops up, and I read it out loud and check it off. I have just read it to myself a few times, but I started forcing myself to read it at least loud enough for me to hear. God's word never returns void and I think reading it, saying it and hearing it are helping to build up my spirit. It's a bonus that the kids can hear me at times. It's building up their spirits, as well. 

I wrote the verses in first person, like a
prayer or confession. 

So, my efforts to walk in love, or to show Jesus' love to my family, are just that. Efforts. It's a process, but I think things are improving, little by little. I'm probably going to add a few more verses. Who knows? I might end up praying all day. Isn't that what we should do anyway?

Shopping Insanity and Grace Pretzels

Today was shopping day. It started out like most shopping days. I made us some oatmeal, in an effort to stave off the cries of hunger that usually arise from the moment we enter our first store. This time, I needed to buy dress shoes for both my girls. Shoe shopping can drag on and I don't like to do it with groceries in the car, so we started at Walmart. I usually hit Walmart last, so that alone threw off our rhythm. We found the perfect shoes for both girls and rather quickly. Who knew that the girls would be better and quicker at shoe shopping than the boys? When my boys are looking for shoes, it adds an hour to our in-store time! 

We were able to wrap the Walmart trip up quickly, but I managed to forget a few items. I'm not sure why, but two things mess up my pro-shopper chi: not pushing the cart and shopping out of order. If I'm not steering the cart, I have trouble focusing, and if we start at the last store, the one closest to home, I inevitably forget things. I've tried shopping apps and even handwritten lists, but it still happens. My OCD tendencies competing with my mother-of-four-ADD.

Because Walmart is closest to home, I opted to drive back to the house and unload before driving into the next state where our other two stores are located. This, again, was not normal. By the time we drove away from home for the second time today, we were all hungry. I caved and went through a fast food drive through. I cringe at the thought but sometimes you do what it takes to survive! At this point, the kids were happy and fed, so I was optimistic about the next store. 

A palate cleanser: Pretty people looking and acting normal.

We went to Aldi next. We buy the bulk of our pantry items there and it's usually a breeze. Either everyone discovered our secret savings spot or we're usually out the door before the rush. It was sooo busy! Declyn loves to check eggs for cracks and hand them to Cayde so they can go in the cart. I asked them for 5 dozen. It was starting to get funny how long it took them. I had been loading our cart down with several gallons of milk and didn't realize that they were giving away every dozen they checked! There were so many people waiting that every time Cayde turned to bring eggs to the cart, he instead handed them off! I laughed and congratulated the boys for being good helpers, although Declyn was thoroughly offended that Cayde kept giving away his carefully inspected eggs. It wasn't so bad, just busy. However, somewhere between canned goods and frozen, the boys started getting antsy. By the time we were checked out and bagging, Declyn and Ella had decided to sing different songs, simultaneously and at a volume with which I was uncomfortable. I finally thrust the car keys at Edyn, instructing her in my best whisper yell, "Take them to the car!" Cayde stayed behind to help and we headed on to Sam's.

This was our last stop and we didn't need much. I had the finish line in my sites but the boys kept bothering each other. They play fight a lot and it's all hilarious until I give a stern look and then they point accusing fingers at each other, offended by my disdain. We were probably only in the store for a half hour, but it seemed like an eternity. At one point I threatened to take Declyn's afternoon snack if he kept up the shenanigans. I was scanning our items in the self checkout when I finally said, "It's very difficult for me to think when you guys are being so loud." (I've been trying not to yell.) Declyn said he was hungry again. He mumbled something about already losing his snack for the day. My first thought was, Tough break, Buddy. Then, as I was halfway to the door, I stopped. I asked the kids if they'd like a pretzel. They all lit up. While we waited for the pretzels to bake, I reminded them about grace. We discussed how grace was unearned and often undeserved favor. I said that we were having "grace pretzels" for snack. While they certainly didn't earn a reward for their behavior, these were an example of grace. Plus, I just really love those pretzels! 

Lately, I've been trying to model Christ's love for my kids. It's not every moment or even every day. I fail, a lot! My love is still human and imperfect. However, I'm trying to be more aware of how I handle their missteps. Of course, I always love them, but do I always love them the way God loves me? It's weighed heavily on my heart for several months. So, occasionally, while I don't want to make a habit of rewarding bad behavior, I try to turn a rough afternoon into a teachable moment. When we got into the car and started eating our pretzels, each of the kids thanked me for the "grace pretzels."

Sometimes a warm, soft grace pretzel is
soothing to the nerves and hearts.

My Baby is Almost Three!

She is amazing! She's bright and funny and loving. It's hard to believe how dramatic her beginnings were:

That moment when you know the cake is done, before the timer goes off...
That's what we're waiting for. Those of you who bake by instinct, like me, understand exactly what I mean. I last wrote to you from my couch, where I'd been ordered to stay until further notice. Since then, a lot has happened very quickly. I was a good girl for three weeks, laying down most of the time while everyone in my family tried to fill in for me. I must say that I'm so overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and the unhesitating manner in which my family rose to the challenge. When I asked my younger brother if he could come help and play Uncle Mom, he never once complained or acted as if he had anything else he's rather be doing. My Mom worked all day and then came straight over to help in the evenings while my husband was working, and backing up my brother.
So, that went on for almost a month, which is hard to believe in hindsight, as it went by so quickly. Then, my husband brought me in for an ultrasound and to update my doctor on how the bed rest was working to bring my blood pressure down. We sat in the dimly lit ultrasound room, chatting pleasantly with the technician doing the exam. She seemed to get more focused and quiet, then she said that the Radiologist would be in as soon as he looked at the pictures. I had a feeling...Then our wonderful radiologist came in to complete the exam, as usual. He is always so warm and funny, more like a good friend than a doctor. He's cared for us at every opportunity since my first pregnancy. He wasn't his usual, perky self. He started to explain the concerns and risks of my hypertension and that things didn't look like we wanted them to at this point. Ella is only a little over 3lbs, which is in 12th percentile for 32 weeks. He also said it looked as though the umbilical cord and placenta seemed compromised. I am paraphrasing, but basically, my whole body, including the part directly linked to Ellowyn's care and development, is over stressed. The immediate question became...
(Read the rest here)

Pedialyte, Egg Drop Soup and Appliance Repairs

Thursday was shopping day. We started out like we do twice every month. I was half way through my first grocery store when my husband called with bad news. He had a stomach virus and was headed home from work. I offered to come drive him home, but he said he would try to make it. So, I added Immodium and Pedialyte (or a homemade version) to the grocery list. We finished our shopping and headed home for phase two: putting away the groceries from 3 different stores. Poor Mr. Jones was in rough shape. I did my best to keep the kids quiet and to get  things organized. We had a mere 1½ hours before we had to be on the soccer field for a week night game. That sounds like more time than it is. It takes a lot of food to feed a family of 6! 

Anyway, we made it to the game and didn't even get rained out, much to our surprise. We drove though rain on the way! We came home and had a quick sandwich for dinner, getting the kids to bed by 9pm.
I nursed Mr. Jones through the night, encouraging him to hydrate and checking for fever. Around 4:30am I felt the first wave of nausea. Oh no! This can't be happening. I can't be sick while he's sick. What about the kids?!
I took some anti-nausea medicine, drank some homemade pedialyte and nibbled on saltines. By 8:30 the next morning, my whole body was achy and I felt completely awful. I made breakfast for the kids, turned on a movie and crawled into bed. I set an alarm so I could get up and make lunch. Mr. Jones seemed to be past the nausea but was still achy, so we took turns checking on the kids but we were on survival mode. My mother, an angel of mercy, came to get the kids when she got off work. Mr. Jones and I were in bed by 8 that night, although I tossed and turned. It was impossible to get comfortable.
Thankfully, we both woke up better. I am still a bit queasy, but the aching seems to have subsided and Mr. Jones felt good enough to investigate a problem I've been having with our washing machine. It was not draining every cycle. I made my favorite comfort food, vegetable egg drop soup, while he drained it manually, put it back together and ran it again. Again, it beeped and flagged an error code. This time I took it apart, drained it and still found nothing. I got a flashlight and looked again, hoping to see anything that could be causing the grief. I stuck my finger into the drainage hose (by the way, EWE!) and felt something. Yes! Maybe this would be the key to our drainage issues. I couldn't quite get a grip on it so I gave Mr. Jones a try. When he pulled it out, I recognized it immediately.

The offender.

I explained, "That's a missile!"

He laughed and asked how I knew that the 2 inch red/coated in black sludge little problem was a missile. I explained, in my matter-of-fact mother-of-boys tone, that it was one of the missiles from Declyn's Ironman toy. I eagerly restarted the washing machine and guess what? It works!
So, if all we accomplish this weekend was getting over a tummy bug and fixing the washing machine, I'm counting it as a win.

How Far We Have Come

Cayde is turning ten this month, and barely two months after, Ellowyn is going to turn three. I was watching them together and thinking back to when they were smaller and more fragile. All of my children have changed and grown so much in what seems like a blink of an eye. I'm thankful that I was blogging back then, since I'm terrible about not journaling. Here's a glimpse at what life was like about three years ago:

While Ella has been the focus of my recent posts, she's only the most recent addition to our family. It would be inaccurate to tell only her part of the story. When I was first put on bed rest, it was like a call to arms. With an army of adults rushing to our aide, Edyn, Cayde and Declyn had a daily decision to make: to join or not join. Most of the time it was at least two out of three, but not always the same two.The kids all knew that Ella was coming, that she was a "she" and that we would be expecting her in February. So, it has been difficult to explain concepts like hypertension, bed rest, premature delivery, etc. They are very smart, though, and capable of rolling with the punches most of the time. It never quite sunk in that I wasn't supposed to be up, getting snacks, checking their chores, tucking them in... I often felt like I was hurting their feelings by saying "No, I can't do that, but you can ask_________." Declyn seemed to adapt better in the beginning, though. He loves to cuddle with me and loved to rub my pregnant belly and talk to Baby Ella.
(Read more at )The Rest of the Story

I'm That Mom!

Today was a particularly challenging day. Class was difficult. The kids were rather more frisky than usual. My husband was stressed over winterizing our home in anticipation of the coming cold weather. Our hot water heater is only partially heating and unreliable. That's a story for a different day.
Needless to say, I had a 12 quart stock pot full of boiling water that I was transferring to the bathtub late this afternoon, in an effort to clean up before I had to dash off for my son's soccer game. I had planned to take a quick bath while the chicken finished thawing and the oven preheated. I figured I could start dinner when I got out and it would be warm and ready to eat when we returned from soccer at 7:30.
Back to the stock pot. I was armed with pot holders and carefully carrying the hot water into the bathroom, like I'd done so many times. I don't remember tripping or catching my foot. I'm not really sure what went wrong. All I know is that as I was about to tip the pot away from me and into the bath, some scalding water sloshed in my direction and onto my upper thigh. The second I felt the searing pain I threw the pot and the pot holders into the tub. I stripped off my pants, which were now soaked with the hot water. While the best course would have been to immediately run cold water over my burning thigh, I had dumped the hot water into the bathtub, the only place where I could have effectively rinsed my leg. I quickly grabbed a towel and soaked it in the kitchen sink. Yes, at this point I was only in my undies from the waist down, but I figured the kids would forgive me if I offended their delicate sensibilities. I took an ice pack from the freezer and laid it on top of the wet towel in an attempt to keep it cool. I sat at the kitchen table, rather under dressed, trying to soothe my leg and my pride, and it all hit. I just started crying. The burn hurt but not enough to warrant the on slot of saline streaming down my face. It had just been that kind of day.
I sat there, hoping my leg would not blister, counting down the minutes that I'd dedicated to washing my hair, maybe shaving my legs and getting a head start on dinner. It was amazing how much time flew. Finally, with no more time to waste, I realized that sitting in a gloriously hot bath was now out of the question. I had neither the time nor the desire to submerge my burned limb in a hot bath. What's worse? I ran out of time to even wash my hair. I thought maybe I could do a dry shampoo and put it up. By the time I put some antibiotic ointment on my now developing blisters and covered them with gauze, I barely slid into my jeans (ouch!) and out the door to go to the game. My eldest daughter and youngest son stayed home with daddy. He had to prepare for work and (bless his heart) help my daughter take over dinner preparations. I took our soccer star and my youngest little elf girl to the game. Of course, she fell asleep on the way. It had also been a no nap day.
We pulled in just in time. Cayde jumped out so he could warm up and get on the field. At this point I realized just how gross my hair looked. I forgot to powder it or even brush it. I haphazardly pinned it up in a messy bun, but it still looked gross. I reluctantly pulled Ella out of the car, rousing her from her overdue nap. In the daylight I realized that she was also gross. She had been playing outside with the other kids almost up to time to leave. We put her in a pull up and clean clothes and there was some sort of attempt at cleaning her up that involved baby wipes. I had an earlier, and apparently lofty, notion that she could jump in the bath after I had finished. Good intentions and such... She still had marker from an art project all over her hands and dirt under her nails. Her hair was unbrushed and, while it wasn't bad from the front, the back was a matted mess. I put it up in a sort of cute messy bun. She waited until we were around the other soccer moms and then pulled it out, revealing her sad state of affairs on the back of her head. Oh great! I'm that mom!
I was emotional and embarrassed. I would have liked nothing more than to sit in the car and hide. The other soccer moms looked fresh and clean. Their kids looked happy and... clean.
I swallowed the knot in my throat and hoped no one would wonder why my daughter and I looked scummy. I just had to live in grace and believe that everyone had experienced that kind of day and I focused on my son. He needed me and I was proud to watch him!
He's awesome. He's a naturally talented soccer player. He is still honing some skills, but he's good. I clapped and yelled, throwing myself into full sideline coaching mode. 
At the end of the day, when I hugged him and said good night, he squeezed me a little tighter than usual. I ruffled his hair, which he loves, and he thanked me for being there tonight. Where else would I be? At least for tonight, I'm that mom! Totally worth it.