Random thoughts from a moment in my pie-making procrastination.

Judging from the activity level coming from my abdomen, the baby agrees with me that lime Jell-o is definitely on the list of favorite foods.

If Skittles hadn’t changed their green from lime to green apple, I bet baby would agree that those are also fantastic. Sadly, we’ll never know.

My parents are coming tomorrow for the weekend. The excitement in my house is amazing. We haven’t seen them since early June.

Charlotte colored with pencil on the coffee table. She was instructed to clean it off. Half an hour of half-hearted scrubbing, she had it clean. She told Liberty afterwards she would never, ever, ever do that again. The words of sweet success.

Brady (the dog) tried to go home with the delivery truck driver yesterday. He was unimpressed.

The two kittens found a new home. I’ve never missed anything less.

Pierce had his first potty-accident free day on Monday since we started potty training mid-June. Not one to lead anyone on, he was sure to poop in his zipper pj’s, without a diaper, first thing Tuesday morning. Glad we’re clear on that accident free day not being a new habit or anything.

I’ve scrubbed my house above and beyond it’s regular maintenance three times this week in preparation for my parents’ visit. I’m starting to think I should wait until about noon tomorrow, and send the kids with Blaine somewhere until Grandma and Grandpa get here. This repetitive cleaning business is for the birds.

We took the week off of school this week. I’m amazed at how much more I can accomplish when I’m not devoting 5-7 hours each day to schoolwork with the kids. The deep freezer got defrosted and cleaned out this week, my friends. I cannot remember the last time I did that.

I found two beef roasts, a chicken we grew/butchered a year and a half ago, a pound of ground deer meat, and 10 pounds of cranberries I didn’t know were in there. So glad I had just stocked up on 8 more packages of cranberries on sale for Thanksgiving days earlier.

I cut a bunch of fabric off of the couch we just replaced. The look on Liberty’s face when I told her I’d make her something and she could know she’s wearing the couch was priceless. It has to be something like wearing the drapes on Sound of Music. Who knew embarrassing your children could provide such entertainment? Ruby didn’t see the irony of wearing the couch though. She just started making plans for whatever it was I might make.

I asked the kids what they’d like for Christmas. The list consisted of boards and nails for Sterling, a planner calendar with note-taking space for Liberty, socks and maybe a cute silver ring for Eden, and chapstick and a bag of the little “cutie” oranges for Ruby. Charlotte and Pierce don’t have a clue. Entitlement attitude, meet my children. Or rather, don’t. I kind of like them like this. A lot.

I was contemplating two of my children this morning and made some observations to my husband.

We have buddies around here. Each of my children has a buddy – a littler person who they are willing and able to get things for, help dress, take potty, etc., when I am unable. Eden’s buddy is Charlotte. Eden’s been compared to a bull in a china shop more than once. She takes life in stride, plows through where she ought tread lightly, and tends to be a bit… blunt. Charlotte, on the other hand, is calm and quiet, shy, one to let her emotions get the better of her. The two together make an interesting team. Sometimes it’s really, really interesting.

Pairing up with Charlotte has smoothed a few of Eden’s edges. It’s taught her compassion, gentleness, understanding. Charlotte has taken Eden in stride for the most part, and it’s been amazing to see the relationship between those two grow. Lately, Charlotte has been sleeping with Eden. Charlotte had been on a trundle of sorts, but she kept rolling off her bed and ending up under Eden’s bed in the middle of the night. Nightly for a good while, I’d stumble in to her hollers that she was stuck once again and pull her out from under the bed. Finally, she started sleeping with Eden instead, and the under-the-bed mid-night rendezvous stopped.

This morning, though, Charlotte told me, “Eden pushed me off the bed again. But this time I didn’t hit my head!” Poor girl, I never knew. I commented to Blaine how good Charlotte has been for Eden, and how Eden apparently has a learning curve in sleeping next to another.

He told me it sounded like Eden and I have a lot in common.

The first few years of marriage and attempting to share one sleep space were interesting. Apparently Eden comes by her rough edges honestly.

Sobering thought. How easy is it to see my daughter and wonder why she can’t slow down, do things carefully, watch her words, be gentle? Is that how I am?

I’m thankful for Blaine. For the man who stood by me and helped smooth out a few rough edges without complaint. Who lives with the rest of them, never saying a word – being glad “it didn’t hurt – this time”. Those personality differences in friends and spouses and children can be difficult. We just don’t understand some people. But how often are those the ones we learn the most from?

Sobering thoughts to start out my day.

The desires of your heart…

I married a handyman. Over the years, Blaine has fixed water pipes, gas lines, changed brakes, took apart a dashboard to solder an electronic component that kept shorting out and sending the dashboard dark, and refinished a table and church pew for our dining room furniture. He’s built rock wall flower beds and changed vehicle belts and a host of other things. Last Saturday, he had my lawn mower torn apart, trying to figure out why it kept revving to a ridiculous speed. (Carburetor, I’m told.)

All that, for this story. A month or so ago, we agreed a new couch was in order. Ours was given to us several years ago, and was a huge blessing to us, but a year and a half ago we wore completely through the arm fabric and I recovered them. Last Christmas, we bought a slipcover for it because we’d gone through the seat cushion too. Now… it’s not so comfy anymore. On a search for a used sofa that didn’t cost a lot but would serve our family, my first choice was leather. I’d heard so many people say how well it wipes clean and dreamed of not washing slipcovers and the messes these children of mine can make.

I looked at hundreds of ads by people wishing to sell their sofas. I came to one conclusion: even used, leather is too expensive.

Then… I found a blue (not my first choice, but it’ll do) leather sofa. $50. Missing the mattress for it’s hide-a-way bed. (Sofa bed hadn’t crossed my mind… but it seemed like a great addition for our small house that doesn’t offer much space for company!) I agreed to buy it, and went home to do research on what it would take to find a mattress. Ouch. Those things are expensive too. Then I found a couch listed for sale for $35 with a sofa bed. I called on it. I kid you not, I asked if she still had the sofa bed and the lady said…

“It’s really in rough shape. It was my aunt’s, and her dogs tore it up. But if you wanted it for the mattress inside…”

Wow. She didn’t even know what I needed it for. So yesterday, we went and picked it up. She took $20. So we now have $70 into two couches that I plan to combine into one and Blaine has agreed to demolish the leftovers. (Dear, dear man. He didn’t even bat an eye when I told him my plan.)

We started combining couches, but quickly learned the sofa bed mechanisms on my blue couch were less than straight. Blaine went to work, taking out the entire sofa bed mechanism from the ugly couch, putting them into the leather couch, and the only modification was the couch needed to be 1/2 inch taller to accommodate the folding of the bed frame. He fixed that, and we had a complete couch, with perfect mattress and sliding mechanism, and we’re out $70… less than we ever thought we’d have to spend.

The amazing part? Water spilled on my new couch last night. A quick wipe up later, we could still sit on the couch… and not shift around uncomfortably.

I know this is a long story. It could have ended very differently. The mechanism could have not fit in the leather couch, the mattress could have been to thick to fit… but in the end, we got exactly what we’d hoped for at a good price and I can’t help but think: Does God care about the little things? Like a couch that we can enjoy and use that takes less work to maintain – that’s comfortable to sit on too. I’m rather inclined to think He does. If you all have been around a few years, you’ll remember this story about Sterling and the desires of his heart. Amazing.

Pregnancy: 23.5 weeks

While I’m not big on pregnancy update blog posts - or photos of me to remind me later of the misery – I thought it might be time to post one. I’m 23 5/7 weeks along, baby is growing and measuring well and stubbornly breech, and stretching the bounds of my larger maternity clothes.

Since I can’t seem to get my act together and get a photo when I’m dressed reasonably well, have makeup on and hair done, and Blaine’s here to do it, I took one this morning, after I had my makeup on. And then I turned off the flash so I didn’t blind all of you and squinted to take a photo and I realized if I just go for hair done and dressed I’d be golden either way.

We don’t know what we’re having and have no plans to find out until baby’s born. Sterling and Ruby were the only two that we did find out, and while that was fun, not knowing is more fun. Since my shed houses all baby clothes not worn to shreds by previous babies, we have clothes for both genders and, while the boys want another boy and the girls want another girl, I’ll be happy with whoever this baby turns out to be.

We plan another homebirth, hoping for a midwife in attendance this time… although I think I’d take another half hour labor again without complaint.

We don’t have names. We haven’t even talked about names. I have my favorites list, and just as soon as Blaine comes to the realization that my belly is going to take over the entire bed and one of us is going to end up on the couch - or I hit 40 weeks and labor is imminent, whichever comes first - he’ll decide it’s time to discuss names. Really, why rush these things?

This concludes pregnancy update #1. Update #2 will likely be when I’m 40 weeks and looking wider than I am tall. Likely.

Contentment–in THIS life.

Every mother has struggles. Or, even broader, every person has struggles.

How easy is it to say, “Mary has it so easy. She doesn’t struggle with not having enough money like I do.”

“Joan has it so much easier. Her children are so much more compliant and easier to parent than mine.”

“Marge has easy pregnancies. She’s so lucky.”

I could go on and on. It’s so easy to look at other lives, pick out the part that they aren’t struggling with quite as much as we are, and think their lives are better; God’s blessing them more – and end up in a disgruntled, envious, unsatisfied mess.

I’m here to tell you, dear friends, it’s not as black and white as all that. I’m preaching to myself lately, because my tendencies are to look at others’ lives and think that they have it so much easier than I do.

Ha.

The things she struggles with are things I cannot fathom. Different stresses. And chances are, she’s looking at my life and seeing the things that I have easier and thinking the same thing. If we could combine mine and fifty friend’s lives and all the best parts, we might, just maybe, end up with a perfect life.

But probably not.

We live in a fallen world, tainted by sin. We’ll all have struggles, until the day that we die. I’m so thankful, as I preach this message of contentment to myself, that I don’t have all the problems of me and those fifty friends. God is gracious, giving us what we can handle so that we can learn, grow, and become more like Him.

That’s something to contemplate as we attempt to rest in contentment in our own lives.

Redneck practices, old age, road kill supper, and one stupid move.

Low point of yesterday: preheating my flat iron for 9 1/2 hours, then laying my brand new glasses on them when I went to bed. The smell of burning plastic several minutes later jogged my memory. Ugh, stupidity.

Tomorrow, I turn 30. I face the number with mixed feelings. I’ve always been one of the young moms. I always wanted to have my children when I was young, but getting older never really crossed my mind. Suddenly, I’m hitting thirty and am not quite sure what to think about it. My kids keep telling me they don’t want me to turn 30 because then I’ll be old. Sterling is all but mourning my death already. I remember as a kid thinking 30 sounded old. It kind of still does – but here I am. Strange.

We were given a deer to eat. Early one morning, one of Blaine’s co-workers calls and asked if we’d eat it if he brought it over. Thinking of deer meat and the creativity required to make wild game edible and the rising grocery prices I’ve been seeing, I said I was up for the challenge.

It was a road kill deer.

Turns out, Missouri has a whole program/list of people who are waiting for freshly pulverized bounty, and we can put our name on such a list to receive notifications of such events.

Tell me I’m not the only one who has never heard of or considered indulging in something hit by a car at a high speed? And yet. Freshly dead, this buck weighed somewhere in the vicinity of 200 lbs. A little while later, Blaine’s coworkers were hanging the animal in the shed to gut it… but the shed rafters protested, and the meat ended up straight in my house, no hanging necessary. I washed and trimmed and froze the meat, and we’ve had two lovely meals of Ree Drummond’s Beer and Paprika Beef Stew, venison style since, with many more meals’ worth left. Entirely edible, free, and it’s filling my freezer at the moment. Everyone liked the stew, and free meat made it the ultimate in cheap. The same week we got the deer, we got a receipt in the mail saying they knew and approved of our consuming one dead road kill deer.

I just can’t think about the road kill part. It’s just a tad redneck. Wow. I have yet to put my name on that list. It’s like I’m embracing the weirder practices of this strange state we now call home. It’s just… wow.

I never imagined this.

These days are hard. School seems to drag on forever, co-op has become a stress like no other and keeps me awake at night, it’s all I can do to keep up with the house somewhat and laundry, Pierce is tearing the house apart as fast as I can put it back together and refusing to take naps many days, and my belly is bigger and causing me more pain than it’s ever been at just shy of 23 weeks.

It’s funny, as a kid, picturing motherhood didn’t include absolute exhaustion. It didn’t include frustration or anger or sticking to the floor when I stumble into the kitchen after consoling a child with growing pains at 3am. It didn’t include repeating myself over and over and over or searching for lost objects that I didn’t lose or potty training a single child for six months with limited success.

Strangely enough, I pictured lovely children, well-behaved, without all the work. I imagined clean, pressed (HA!) and smiling children. This just wasn’t what I imagined.

Messes. Oh, the messes. The laundry, the mountains of work without the energy to climb anything more than the path to the couch. The pure exhaustion and achiness that pregnancy brings. The unending meal preparation and the inability to feed my children one helping of anything that fills them up.

But.

I didn’t picture the discussions either. The talks of sin and Christ’s love. The discussions of those painful growing up moments that are inevitable.

The laughs. Oh, the laughs. The hilarious things that a child comes up with. The heart stopping moment when you find your two year old standing high in the air, perched on a tiny patch of instability. The baby kissing “his baby” in Momma’s belly, loving someone so unconditionally that they’ve never met, don’t fully understand, and who is taking up more and more of “their” lap space.

The different personalities. The ones I see myself in clearly, and the ones I don’t understand in the slightest because they are so unlike me. The ones who are word oriented and the ones who crunch numbers like nobody’s business. Outgoing. Shy. Energetic. Quiet.

If I had to describe them each in a word…

Liberty… perfectionist

Eden… scattered

Sterling… mathematical

Ruby… passionate

Charlotte… imaginative

Pierce… hungry

Yeah. I never pictured any of this. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The hardest thing I’ve done, and the only thing I can’t quit. Day after day, new struggles face me in the lives of these children. I never imagined this. But I’m having the time of my life – on the good days and the bad.