A Date.

Behold.
God's Country.
Otherwise known as the place of my birth.
Also known as "The County."
Open fields.  Rolling hills.  Lots of trails.  And potatoes.
Lots of potatoes.

The three Hoolie boys have been up at my Mama's and Daddy-O's for this past week.

It's a summer tradition where they spend a week up there just for fun...and for getting spoiled rotten.  All things involving:  four-wheeling, treats, staying up late, swimming, bonfires, coon catching, fishing expeditions, movies, stories, sleeping in the camp, adventure expeditions, and the like.

It's a week that my parents look forward to all summer and one that my boys do as well.
Aaaaand....one that this Mama does, also.
My, this past week the silence was deafening!!

Finding frogs.

So, Friday after work we traipsed ourselves up to collect our packages.  And to spend the rest of the weekend up there visiting, as well.  On Saturday afternoon whilst my Mama was snuggling with London, and whilst the two smaller Hoolies were taking a nap, Kaden and I went on a two-hour four wheeling date just the two of us.

I love one on one time with my boys.  It is delightful.
And I had missed him.

Lots of rain.  Lots of washouts.  Kaden's making sure it's not too deep.

So, on this particular date, Kaden did the driving and I just sat back and let him take me wherever his little heart desired.  Which involved water and puddles.  Always.  And counting the number of frogs that we found swimming in the puddles.  I believe, by the end of our date we were upwards of forty frogs....along with a dead crow and a partridge.

Very eventful.

 Four wheeling rides also involve digging around in Grampy's saddlbags to see what sorts of treats and snacks we can find.  This time, our options were:  sardines, kippered snacks, or vienna sausages.  Kaden had never had these mechanically separated chicken parts that are all smashed together in the name of a sausage before.

And he found them to be quite delightful.
Right up there with Spam.

 So, we had ourselves a little snack, we did a little wading and a little catching of some froggies...
And then, we headed home.

I love four-wheeling.
It's one of the joys of my life.
Seriously, it is.
I don't know why, but it just makes me really, really happy.

But, before we got home, we found ourselves side-tracked by the gravel pit.
My boys love the gravel pit.
They love to climb it and slide down it.
They pretty much love anything that makes them grubby.

And because we were on a hot date, Kaden convinced me to climb the walls, as well.
This was our view below:

We also drove through all of those puddles as fast as we could.
Well, Kaden did.  I just hung on.  And prayed.

I find that when I go up home for just a few days, I need to pack just as many clothes as I would normally need to for an entire week.  I am perpetually filthy.  Or wet.  Or smelling like fire.

 It was a lovely date and a lovely afternoon with my sweet, biggest boy.

And now a shout out to the shoes in my life:

As a Mama to (mostly) boys, my summer footwear consists solely of keen's and chacos.  Both shoes being quite pricey when purchased brand new, but oh-so-fabulous when purchased at a yard sale or GoodWill.  These babies cost me $7.99, and in the course of that two hour date, they were soaked from mud, soaked from puddles, and filled to the brim with gravel pit dirt.  They were then sufficiently washed off by the puddles on the way home, and set in the sun to dry.  Voila!  They can also be thrown in the washing machine with any load of laundry....which happens to these babies all. summer.  long.

I heart them.

Journey.

We sold our house yesterday.

To a little couple who is getting married in August and who fell in love with it just like we did four years ago. It comes with four years of memories by a family in love, a fully planted garden....and about 4 dozen eggs hidden somewhere, as my wee chicky bitties have decided to forego their laying in the coop.

So, here's to another chapter...

The Lord has certainly been growing me these past few years of my life...
There was a time when...
I said I would never be a pastor's wife.  Check.
I said I would never raise support.  Check.
And I said I would never live with friends for fear of messing with a good thing.  Welp...as of September 3rd...Check.

This is what we have left of the girls.  A foxy loxy got one this morning.  Poophead.

I've also heard it said that the three potentially biggest stressors in a person's life are:
Having a new baby.  Check.
Moving to a new location.  Check.
And starting a new job.  This week I started back to waitressing.  Again.  Check.
It will also be my first fall of homeschooling two students...with a brand new baby on the side...

Oooh Lawdy...

She wasn't the brightest of the bunch.  But, she was the prettiest.

But surprisingly, I have peace.
Which is saying a lot, coming from someone who supremely despises change.
I'm learning to extend much grace to myself and to others.
And I'm learning that it's possible to simultaneously grieve the closing of one chapter and be excited about the next steps of another.

And a new chapter is indeed upon us.

One that involves stepping away from the rat race of life for awhile to regroup and figure out next steps.
One involving working toward paying off student loans and becoming debt free.
One that involves courage in stepping into the unknown and into a new season.
One involving community and living with and amongst friends - sharing in the messy and the mundane.
And one that involves letting others live life with us and walking alongside.  A vulnerable way to live, indeed.

We will be moving into the upstairs of a huge house on the outskirts of town...with friends who are already living there.  We will be living and learning together...sharing spaces, and siblings.  Kitchens and countertops.  And 40+ acres of woodland to roam for two couples, 5 boys, and one bitty girl..

Living life and sharing....

Hearts and hurts.
The messy and the mundane.
The chaos and the crazy.
Being vulnerable.
Speaking truth.
And extending grace.

Are we crazy - we two families?  Maybe.
Our individualistic culture surely doesn't know much about living in community together.

Am I nervous about potentially hurting relationships in living this close together?  Sure.
But where there is risk, there is also potential for something awesome to take place.

And so we move forward.
With cautious baby steps, we walk...
Trying to hear God...trying to walk where He says to walk.
Open to what He has for us...and willing to never say "Never".....

With hearts and hands wide open.
Holding loosely.
Freely giving back the gifts that were given by the Gift-giver, Himself, in the first place.
And humbly accepting the new ones...

And trusting.
Always trusting.

~ For stretching, and for growing.
~ For listening, and for learning.
~ For a husband worth following.
~ For choosing courage.
~ For a house of memories.
~ For two babies brought home there.
~ For the new couple moving in.  And for the start of their own memories.
~ For boys willing to follow their Daddy and their Mama.
~ For excitement that is catching.
~ For salamanders.  And for frogs.  For adventures.  And for fun.  There as well...
~ For brother friends...and for learning to mesh more personalities.
~ For grace for the Mamas...
~ For new paint and new chapters.
~ For saying "no" to the rat race...and "yes" to things more important.
~ For opportunities to say good-bye to student loans.
~ For new doors able to be pushed wide open.
~ For friendships real and raw.
~ And for walking alongside...

My Joy Journey...

Sunset Rock, Lucerne.  One of my happy places....

"Don't cry because it's over...Smile because it happened." ~ Dr. Seuss.

Fact or Fiction?

Here's a story:

Long ago in the days of yester-year when we were still just "best buddies," my hubby and I were camp counselors.  He worked on the boy's side of camp, and I worked on the girl's side.  He had grown up at summer camp - both being a camper and a counselor, whilst I myself had only been a trouble-making camper for all of my Junior High and High School years.

And the thoughts of being a counselor to 10-15 new little girls each and every week had me in tears almost every weekend.  Seriously, it did.  The whole concept of "camp counselor" was kind of panicky to me.  (Remember also...way back in the days of yester-year, I was quite certain that I would never be a Mama to any pukey, poopy ankle biter of my own....  Kids weren't really "my thing.")

Whoops.  This picture should actually come after the next one...

But, by Saturday morning when all of those little girls were reunited with their families, I was always so sad to see them go.
By Sunday, I was stressing that a brand new week was upon me.
By Monday, I was freaking out about the new set of rugrats I was going to be taking care of.
And again, by Saturday I was sad to see them go.

Wash, rinse, repeat.
For all the live long summer.
I think it's change.  I don't do well with change.

Anyway...

At this particular camp, one of the jobs for us counselors to do throughout the week was to pick a "skill" that we would teach our kids every day for that week.  There were all kinds of activities for them to choose from:  horseback riding, bb guns, swimming, crafts, canoeing, sailing, hiking, wilderness survival etc...

I find it absolutely hilarious that Kev taught sailboating (is that even a word?) and horseback riding for two of his activities.  Never in my life have I known him to navigate a sailboat or to ride a horse...but he taught those activities...and he taught them well.  A fabulous friend and I found ourselves to be new together at the camp this particular summer, and before we knew it, all of the cool activities and all of the activities that could be spent outside working on an awesome tan got scooped up by the more "seasoned" counselors who knew what they would be in for during their summer working there.

We found ourselves stuck with teaching Wilderness Survival.  That's right.
Wilderness Women we were.
I find that hilarious, too.

And you could surely pick us out in a crowd.  Whilst all of the other counselors were tanned golden bronze from the sun, we were still white from being in the woods all day.  And bug bitten.  From being in the woods all day.  I was only minorly (is that even a word, also?) jealous by all of this...after all, I had a "best buddy" to impress....

And might I also add that I knew nothing about teaching Wilderness Survival?
Minor detail....

But, my Daddy-O on the other hand, knows a lot.  So, on one of our week-ends off, I blitzed myself up home and got me a crash course on the whole topic and some supplies.  He gave me a handy-dandy supply kit of first aid material...and we taught a little bit of that...including how to make a homemade sling with your bra.  Hey, one gots to survive....  And we learned how to make shelters.  We learned about what plants were edible and what were not.  We made "cowboy bread" over an open fire.  We learned how to make one match fires.  And we also learned about a wasp's nest that was buried nearby... and we got really fast at running through those woods back to camp as fast as our little legs could carry us.

By summer's end, we had developed quite a name for ourselves, and our activity actually became pretty popular.  I think mostly, because we ate a lot...but we two "Wilderness Women" were quite proud of ourselves and we developed a friendship that has lasted to this day.  Katie made that summer fun for me, and I will be forever grateful to her for that.

Meanwhile, back at the boys' side of camp, Kev was teaching his kidlets that if you flip your canoe out in the middle of the lake, it is possible for you to turn it upright and get back in again and row back to camp....

And to prove that this is indeed possible, he and my brother "showed us" while we were in Rangeley.....
Hmmm.

You be the judge....

Just Keep Swimming...

The water was high this year.

And quite cold at the beginning of the week.
But, ten days in - with that massive, muggy heat wave that we had - it really became quite love-o-ly.

So, my boys basically lived in their swim gear.

I packed an entire suitcase of clothing...but really all it was used for was to serve as swim gear back-up. Ransom is my only non-water child.  He prefers to just "dip his piggy toeths" in the water.

My other boys are fish.

And my Biggest Boy and I like to spice things up a little bit.

We asked the Hoolies if they wanted to feel like they were flying...
I asked them if they wanted to experience a part of my childhood where my own Dad and brothers would throw me up in the air and chuck me just as far as they could.

They said:  "Sure."
One time each...

I think Daddy struck the fear of the good Lord into them after that...
Not intentionally, mind you.

After that, I tried to bribe them so I could have more photo ops.
Jesse took me up on the offer one time.  His fee?  Two marshmallows.

After that...I even went as high as two bucks and THREE more marshmallows.
But he said:  "No way..."

I think it was the going in head first that did it for him....

After that, they opted for a slower version of excitement:

Whoaaaaa!  Slow down, Kaden...

You guys are crazy!
What daredevils....

How We Do It.

Whilst I surely would not label myself a "girly girl" ~

...this is what my feet look like - perpetually - in living with these boys....

...I do love me my comforts of home...namely, hot showers, real toilets, a blow dryer, a curling iron, makeup, and some hairspray.  But...there is something to be said for having to jump in the lake for your baths, and for shaving your legs off the side of the dock.  There's something to be said for sunkissed skin as opposed to blush and lipstick...and for letting your hair be wildly dried in the breeze as opposed to being cooped up in a steamy bathroom with a blow dryer.

Life jacket, round 2.  The first one she hated with a passion.  This one she loves...

   And there is surely something to be said for not spending the first half hour or so of your day in the bathroom primping up for the day.  I think I could be a crunchy granola if I wasn't so vain.  Rangeley is one of those small towns where the Appalachian Trail is close enough for hikers to hitch rides into town to restock their supplies and stop for a pizza and a pit stop...so, we see ourselves a plethora of hippie crunchy types.

It kind of appeals to me...

In fact, Kev and I are talking about hiking the "100 Mile Wilderness" for our 15 year Anniversary next year. We shall see.  I'm not quite sure if I'm hippie crunchy enough for that one or not yet.  But I think it could make for a pretty fun adventure some day.

Speaking of adventures....

My friend Rachael and her family spend their family vacations at this same camp.  Rachael is my Father-in-Law's granddaughter....so that makes Kev her uncle by marriage.  Awww.  Uncle Kevy....  Anyway, for the past two summers, we have tried to overlap our stay just a bit.  My three older boys and her three older girls love hanging out...and we love hanging out...so it's delightful.  Last year, we overlapped a couple of days and a night.  This year, I have a two month old baby girl, and she has one year old toddler twin boys...so it makes for a "hairy-er" vacation for both of our families.  So, this time we just overlapped a few hours.  Maybe next year, we can make it happen for a little bit longer.

Anyway, we were chitchatting about what our family's week (that is comprised mostly of boys) looks like as opposed to what their family's week (that is comprised mostly of girls) looks like while here at camp.  We were swapping notes, so to speak.  When her family goes to town, her Lovelies enjoy walking the entire strip of stores, peeking into each one, and finding fun little treasures to purchase as souvenirs of their time in Rangeley. When our family goes to town, the boys like to hit:  the candy shop, the pizza shop, and the ice cream store...and not necessarily in that order.  And the only store that they even remotely care to shop at is the tackle shop...and that's only if they've lost a lure on a fishing trip.

My boys wake up talking about fishing, and they go to sleep with plans the next morning to go fishing.  And if we decide to go on any sort of adventure...the major question at play is:  "Can we do any fishing there?"  They are also quite enthused if there are any cliffs or huge rocks that they can jump off....or any locations where lots of people have not fished before.  And whilst I do love me my adventures, as well...when I am "on vacation," I really don't want to do anything that even remotely looks like work.  I like to think of myself as a "dock sitter."  Nothing makes me happier than to slow roast on the dock with a fantastic book in hand, enjoying the sights and the silence around me, when I get hot I'll jump in for a little dip, and then I'll come back out...wash, rinse, repeat for all the live long day.

Kevy can sit still for approximately 30 minutes.  If I am lucky.  And that's why he's the favorite parent.
Mama is boring.

And so our days were a mix of vegging and fishing, boating and fishing, hanging at camp and fishing, boating to town and fishing, swimming and fishing.  Exploring and fishing. And going on adventures.  And fishing.

And we also did a little fishing.

Wee little London, I fear, is a bit more like her Daddy than her Mama, and so our best days at camp were actually the ones where we were out and about.  That baby took more naps on the boat, and on a hike, and in my Snugli, and on some cliff somewhere then she ever did in her bed back at camp.  And I nursed that wee baby in more precarious positions this week than I ever have all three baby boys combined.  Such is going to be her life, methinks.  But she didn't complain.

I may or may not have once or twice...

See my boys?  Waaaaay down there.  London ate her lunch at the top of this ledge.  glory be.

There were a couple of mornings where I slept in...and awoke to the smells of coffee and pancakes.  I came downstairs surprised that they weren't off fishing somewhere, and when I asked why, Kev's response was this:  "I feared for my life...."  ha.  Dear man.

So we balanced our fun to meet the needs of all six of us the best that we could.  Some of the boys are as hard-core as Daddy, and some are not so much.  There were days when Jesse looked over at me in the boat and said wryly:  "Fishing is so boring, isn't it Mama?"  So, those were the times that we threw him off the side of the boat and let him boogie board on back to relieve said boredom.  And there were nights when Kevy took all three Hoolies along with him so that Mama could have some semblance of silence back at the camp for just a couple of hours.  There were days when I willingly hiked in the drizzle and nursed London on top of some ledge somewhere so that someone could hook their prize trout in a deep hole somewhere.  And there were days when we went to town for the sole purpose of getting an icecream.  Just because I wanted one.  There were naps where Ransom sprawled on me in the boat, and there were fishing expeditions where whoever was bored was allowed to eat a boatload of candy for appeasement.

Whatever worked, was kind of my motto.

Final count:  2 big salmon and 4 trout.  Not too shabby.

And so, now we are back to the real world of:
No, you may not have candy right after breakfast. (to Jesse & Ransom)
No, you may not sleep every single nap on my chest. (to London)
No, we are not going fishing tonight when Daddy gets home from work. (to Kaden)
And no, we are not having ice cream four times this week. (to all of us)

Coming back to reality is such a bummer....