Gobble. Gobble.

Thanksgiving.

 My mostest favorite Holiday without all of the hooplah of the stress that Christmas can sometimes bring.
And you still get all of the awesome foodies to boot!

I love that Thanksgiving comes before Christmas for so many reasons.

I love that we have this build up, these days of counting our thankfuls and of being grateful for even the littlest of things in our lives - especially the little things - before the crazy of Christmas happens.

I love that we stop...and we gather together with those that we love...and we just are.
Together.

I love that Kaden made London this darling little headband (pilgrim hat?  Indian headdress?) to wear for her first Thanksgiving with our family.  And I love that my most reserved little boy made such a tangible declaration of his love for his baby sister.  Mama gets a head bonk for a goodnight kiss, and London gets slathered with kisses and told that she's the "apple of his eye."

Whateve.
Haters don't be hatin.'
Mamas don't be jealy...

She is pretty delicious after all...

I love the simplicity of the day...
The food...the games...the crafts...and the crazy.
I love that Grampy puts in his earplugs when my boys are over for the day...
And I love when it's bedtime at night.

I love the leftovers for supper...
And I love the feeling of celebration and festivity...

And this man.
I really, really, really love him.
Even though he really, really, really loves to tease me.
He kind of makes me crazy.
I sometimes feel like I have four wild hooligan boys.
Because I do.

Behold!  The lunchtime of glory!
Followed by the suppertime repeat of glory!

She likes the squash.
She also likes to poop the squash.
It's fabulous.

And I LOVE me my food.
This here be a small sampling smackerel of pumkin, mixed berry, apple cranberry, and pecan pie.
Heaven on a plate, Baby.

And per our tradition, the Hoolies made our pilgrim hats.
I bought the no-name brand cookies this year.
Over half of them were broken.
Not cool.

And so... such was our day.
Simple.  Yummy.  Together.  Slow.  Loud.  Festive.
With Family.

T'was the greatest gift....

The Stuff of Life.

For the days when you haven't lost your joy...but maybe it's just a little bit harder to find.
And for the days when you're chock full to the brim happy.

For the days when five little boys and one baby girl all under one roof are crazy, loud, and fighting...and you just might pull your hair out.  And for the days when you think you've got this thing called "walking alongside" down to a pretty good science.

For the living and the learning...for the grace extended and for the grace that's constantly shown.
For this beautiful expanse of a HOME.
For deep, soul friends.

And for loving each other just the way we are...
I am thankful.

For two Mamas in the kitchen...and for two Daddy's working hard.
For stooping ever lower...and for the Crazy swirling 'round.
For community, for vulnerability, for humility, and for hearts that beat as one...
I am deeply thankful.

For the school days of failure... and for those of success.
For Mama days of grumpy... and for their sweet forgiveness.
For sweet boys all crazy... and for arms thrown around me.
For sweet baby smiles and for just...slowing...down.

For seasons of sorrow and for deep, wrenching pain.
For seasons of humility and for refinement in the deepest soul places.
For seasons of Life and for accepting the grace.
And for seasons of rest and for healing the heart.
For all that Life throws...and for the Love of the Father...I accept and am thankful.

For his arms around me.
And for nights talking late.
For dreaming, for JOURNEY...
And for big leaps of faith.

For seeing life through the eyes of a child...
For seeing through their "messes" and for finding the creation...
And for remembering that "play is the work of childhood."
I am thankful.

For family, for friendships...for walking raw and real.
For days that are thriving...and for days just surviving.
For reminders that HE is God...and that I am not.
I am thankful.

For four little souls that are mine just on loan...
And for one man's heart that beats only for me...

For this month - and beyond - to practice Thanks-living...
And for these next few days and weeks especially... for this good reminder...
I am thankful.

Catching Up.

Holy.
Cannoli.
Hank.

These past few weeks have totally and completely kicked my butt.  Like, seriously...I feel like I am a rat on a wheel and I just. can't. jump. off. for the life of me.  So, a few days ago - as it always does when life gets insane - my body decided to take charge.  It stuck a fork in me, it told me I was done, and it sent me off to bed for an entire afternoon, most of the evening, all of the night, and the majority of the next morning.  Kevy ran to Walgreens and bought me all sorts of concoctions, he ran a vicks vaporizor all night, he went on major Daddy Duty for about 24 hours or so...and it turns out, that's just what the doctor ordered.

These days, I pretty much feel like a new woman.

Life does that sometimes.
It hits you hard.  It knocks you down.  It makes you step back for a bit.
And that's okay.

I've been kind of a hot mess, but I'm all right with that, too.

My Thankful Tree is still pretty barren because we keep forgetting to add our "thankfuls" each day.
I got about 7 days into the 30 day crunch, plank, and squat challenge before I tanked.
I have about 3 stocking stuffers purchased for my kiddos for Christmas and that. is. it.
I'm pretty much perpetually behind in school this year.
I look like a bedraggled old hag when I wheel into co-op each Friday...usually 30 minutes late at that.
I cannot get caught up on laundry to save my soul.

And that's barely just the tip of the iceberg of what has been my life this past little while.

Throw in a Thirty-One party that I had for my oldest of friends who has recently become a consultant for the company...add us staying up until almost one in the morning visiting...and well, this old gray mare she ain't what she used to be.  I've been the walking dead ever since.  Top that with family coming through, my Dad having his shoulder completely replaced this week, and my dear, sweet 103 year old Great Grammy passing away... and that's a big ole' recipe for Crazy wrapped up in a neat little package of Insanity.

But...my Dad getting his shoulder replaced...and so many of his family members just stopping for the day so that we could all sit and wait together in the waiting room of the hospital?  And taking time off from work and life so that we can all come together to celebrate a lifetime of love and a legacy well lived by the Matriarch of our family?

Boys and puddles.  Like moths to a flame.

Well, that's a recipe for a whole lot of sacred right smack dab in the middle of all of this crazy chaos.
Because that's really what life is supposed to be all about in the first place.

Slowing.
Seeing.
Finding the joy.
Searching for the beauty.
Celebrating life.
Loving deep and wild and raw.

Babies eating their toes.  One of my favorite things.

Because the crazy - it's always there.
And the laundry will never be done.
Perfection has long since been thrown out the window.
And life lessons are just as important as book learning.

Family and legacy...being together and showing tangible love...
Losing and grieving...loving and walking alongside...
Beauty married right into the middle of the mess...

That's what the "stuff" of life is really all about.

6 Months.

Well, Baby Love...

Here you are...six months old wearing my own sweet Mama's dress that she wore when she was just a baby...and here I am wondering where these last six months have gone.

You, my sweet little surprise with your hair stuck straight up and your tongue sticking right out... and me, wondering how in the world I could have ever imagined not having a little baby girl in my life.

You, my happiest of babies...
Your brothers completely smitten...
And your Daddy and I loving the way this thing called "life" has all played out...

What a sweet little game changer you have turned out to be in this family completely overrun by wild and crazy boys.  You are always in the center of their world...being held or entertained....being sung to or played with.  And you are always fought over first thing in the morning ~ your brothers wanting to each be the one that you first see and give that first adoring smile to...

You will suffer no lack of love, dear one.

And me your Mama...well, I still have some of those same old fears that I always had at the thought of raising a daughter.  You will be watching me.  You will see my glaring flaws...and  you will witness my messy mistakes.  You will know better than most, I suppose, just how imperfect your Mama really is.

But, I hope too, that you will see how I live life raw...I hope you will experience my "I'm sorry's" just as freely as you will witness my junk.  I hope that if nothing else...you will never doubt my love for you...or for your Daddy and your brothers.  I pray that you will see a mother and wife flawed but that same woman faithful and in love...that you will see my faith and that you will witness my journey with Jesus.  And I pray that we will be able to walk that journey together and that you will never be ashamed or afraid to come to me for anything....

I want you to always know that you are loved and that I'm on your side ~ always and forever no matter what.

Sweet, London Faith, you have filled my heart up to the tippy top brim!  Just when I thought that I was filled to bursting, you have gone and made me overflow.  In the words of your Daddy:  "You are awesome!"  And in the sweet prayers of your brother Jesse:  "Thank you, Jesus for giving us such a sweet, beautiful baby girl...."

Our journey together is just beginning.
I still just barely know you.
But, we are knit together, you and I.

Welcome to the Crazy, Little One...
Welcome to the Messy.
We're so glad you are here...

And we are oh, so thankful for the gift of you...
Happy 6 Months, my Love.

Create!

Oh, how I love watching my little ones create.

I love how each of their personality's plays out so uniquely in their crafting and in their artwork...and I love watching their little imaginations go all crazy wild when I offer them a blank piece of canvas with the only instructions being:  "Mama wants some decorations for her wall, so here you have it.  Go to town."

So, that's what we did last week.  I have a ginormous blank wall in Ransom's room that I've been hankering to do something about.  I want it to be whimsical and very kid-like and friendly...so why not "hire" my three small Hoolies to do something about said wall instead of going out and purchasing something that I probably don't even love?

And to add a little extra spice to our decorating fun, we decided to do it on a day when Shandy and her two Hoolie boys would be home, as well, so then we could all make messes create together!  Because if we're going to already make the mess for three small boys, really...what's two more?  How much damage could five wee boys do?

Actually, it went relatively smoothly.
So much so, that we decided to bring London into the fun of the day, as well.
But first, she gave us her own version of "creating"....

I give you:  "London's Bomb."

So, I left Shandy with the 5 (FIVE!) painting boys, ran upstairs, threw London in the tub, ran back down, and decided to get into the less smelly if not equally as messy job of painting her piggy toes...

I've done "Johnny Jump Up" art with all of my babies except Kaden.
I don't think I thought of it when he was just a wee babe.

 Sometimes, it's a more than one person affair...

It's usually messy and the baby wonders what in the world is going on with her...

But the outcome is pretty cute...so long as you can throw all hopes and expectations of perfection out the window.  If you look really closely you can see at least a couple of little toes beneath all of the smudginess...

So, these shall go up in Ransom and London's room as soon as I can find wherever my Get up and Go got up and went to.

And as things often go...once the mess is out and once the creative juices are flowing...one might as well just keep on a painting.  So, as of late I am having a bit of a love affair with pallets.  And painting them.  And hanging them in my home.  And recovering from an almost hernia after said hanging expedition.  Whilst helping me hang my Pallet of Glory, Kev grunted through his teeth:  "This SURELY was a woman's idea!" To which I sweetly remarked about what a cheap date of a woman he has!  HELLO!!  Pallet?!  It's free baby!  Zero dollars!

You are most welcome.

Sha-zam!
Yes, this is a pallet, and it's on my entryway wall.
Quote courtesy of Pinterest.
Pallet courtesy of the Blue Seal parking lot.
Artwork courtesy of my dear friend Rachey Rach.
Verbal reprimand for speeding on the day we got this wicked idea and flew home to create it, from the nice Bangor cop.  I heart him.

And lastly, our Thankful Tree.
She's bitty and scraggly...and she's just in a lame-o Mason Jar.
But, she's going to be filled up with all of my little boys' "thankfuls" for this month of November.

And that makes her pretty beautiful to me.

A home filled with messes and with crazy.
With artwork on the walls made by little boy imaginations.
With words to live by scrawled on free pieces of junkwood.
Broken branches on a table slowly filling with a family's small thankfuls...

Creating is life...
And it is so very good.