Crazy, Raw, and Real.

I have debated for several weeks now on how I'd spin this post.  Funny?  Completely vulnerable?  Sweet and sappy?  Raw and real?  Because I have surely felt all of the above emotions...and then some.... on multiple levels these past few months... 

So, let's just roll with a little stream of consciousness conversation, shall we? 
Here's my heart these days...

I have come to the conclusion that being a mother is a very vulnerable occupation.  In some ways, one could argue - it's one of the scariest.  Can I get a witness?  Our lives are out there - naked and raw for all the world to see - in the forms of our small children walking real.  And in the cases of my own anyway --- completely filter-less. 

Very humbling.  And sweet.  And insanity-inducing.  And comical.  But....mostly humbling.  :0)

I was saying to Kev just recently - where I am at in life right now - this stage of the here and now, today - there is no conceivable way that I can even begin to pretend that I have this mothering thing down.  I think when I had just one kid I maybe thought that I had life by the horns a bit, and I could at least pretend perfection - although that never did anyone a bit of good.  Three hoolies later -  (with one we affectionately call "the twins") - there's no point in even trying to act like I have everything altogether.  Because I don't.  And it's out there for all the world to see.

 I'm kind of getting over it.  And in some crazy way, I'm finding real freedom in that.

Because there are some things that I think I'm pretty decent at.  And there are also some things in which there is absolutely no question that I royally rot.  But, the truth of the matter is--- someone will always be better at the things where I think I rock, and someone will always maybe stink a little worse at the things in which I am no good.

So, honestly - what's the point in looking around?  Comparison really does destroy contentment.  And worrying about what others think is really just a waste of brain space. 

Easy words to write.  Hard words to live by.  Especially for women, maybe...

Someone will always be skinnier.  Eat healthier.  Run farther.  Be more organic.  Make more things homemade.  Have better behaved children.  Less cluttered homes.  More exciting lives.  Better ideas.  More intentional family plans.  Less debt.  Loftier goals.  Make better use of their time.  And have better structured days.

But, those are just some of the things that I struggle with...

And it's when I start to worry about what other people think - that's when I can make myself crazy.  And when I start to worry about the future - well that's an exercise in pointlessness because no-one knows what the future holds, anyway. We trust.  We have faith.  We try to listen to and follow Jesus' heart.  And we do the best that we can.

Because, life's a journey, right?  And it twists and turns in ways that we never expect.  There are good surprises, there are crappy chapters, there is Crazy, there is newness, there is pain, there is growth, there is sharpening, there is refining, there is loss and letting go, and there is healing.

And through all of this, we grow.
We morphe and we change - and we are not today the person who we were just a year ago, even.

And our kids.  They play hugely pivotal roles in this game of life and in the molding and the shaping and the birthing of us into all of these various stages of motherhood.  They are some of our greatest teachers. 

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But, anyway...
Here's one of those new, crazy, twists and turns that I was just writing about:

That would be a baby.
In MY belly.
Right now.
Almost fourteen weeks old.
Holy Hannah.
Yes, indeed.

What ONE test confirmed...the other four made sure...

And so, going back to the whole worrying about what people think....

:: There will be some who will say we are NUTS.
 ~ We would readily agree.

::  There will be some who will wonder how in the world is she going to be able to handle four?
 ~  And I will ponder that one right along with you.  Just keeping it real.

Are we surprised?  Kind of.  Not really.  We know how babies are made.

 And I also know myself.  Big changes initially make me pensive and really thoughtful.  I kind of go into internal freak-out mode for a bit and wonder things like:  Have I just gone and ruined our whole family dynamic?  What WERE we thinking?  We just got out of diapers!!  Now we need a bigger car!  What if I'm too old for this?  What if this is the baby where I never get my body back?

You know - really important things like that.
 I'm trying not to stress - I know this about myself by now.

But, Kevin knows me too - and he knows how to soothe me.  He quiets my fears.  He eases my doubts.  And he calms my worries.  When I'm exhausted and overwhelmed, he's excited and brings perspective.

He called my bluff, anyway.  For two years I talked about a fourth baby, a buddy for Ransom, an "even"-ing of the odd numbers.  And for two years, Kev reminded me that we were at maximum capacity and there's really only so much one couple can handle.  My response was always:  "We're already in the thick of chaos mode.  Might as well just EMBRACE it!"

So here we are.  Embracing it.  And it is with equal parts fear and excitement that I enter this next chapter of Crazy and put my money where my mouth was, all along.  And yes, we know we are nuts - but feel free to remind us. 

And once again, I am reminded that life is not about trying to impress, or faking that I have it all together, or having a house that is immaculate.  It doesn't matter what people think, and my success is not based on my income or my bathroom scales.  My kids might not ever be perfect, and we might look like a circus -- but their Mama's not even close to perfection either - nor will she ever be, so we will learn and we will all grow together. 

And for this Mama's heart - as we slowly tell each loved one, and as we watch our own three boys get excited.....and as I see this fourth little miracle on screen and as the reality of this new little life continues to grow within me....

My heart is oh so quickly catching up with my belly.
And with great humility and thanfulness, I am embracing the wonder.

"Slow...and see the sacred in the chaos." ~ Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

My Three Sons.

Once upon a time, just this past Sunday morning, as Daddy & Mommy sat bleared-eyed at the kitchen table sipping away at their life giving cups 'o joes and trying to wipe the sleep from their eyes, the two largest hoolies were just waking up in their own special way one room over, as well.

Meaning...what began as them just sitting quietly on the couch turned into a full-blown wrestling match with all sorts and sundry toys flying besides.

This was the outcome:

Of course.

Not only an adult tooth, but the one in the very front...broken clean off with the pink nerves exposed.  And on a Sunday.  Pure awesomeness.

This was the culprit:

Thrown by Sir Jester himself...whom I might add...still has all of his baby teeth...not saying I would choose a certain hooligan to have this happen to, if I could.....but I might... if they still had all of their baby teeth...and if they were the ones who threw said toy in the first place.  But, I'm not saying I would.
But I might...
I was slightly devastated.

I am well aware that there are far more horrific things that can happen to our children, so I kept it in perspective - it's "just a tooth"...it's not an eye...or cancer...or a heart problem, or anything like that.  It's honestly no big deal.  But teeth have kind of always been my thing.  Well, teeth and eyes.  I am always telling the boys that we only have one set of eyes and only one set of adult teeth.  We have to take good care of them.  We have to be careful.   And ironically, the one who is most careful was the one who now has a false tooth at the ripe old age of eight.

 But, again, perspective, right?
And honestly, with three crazy hoolies, I'm kind of impressed with our track record.
Eight years of boys, and this is our very first honest to goodness accident.
Not bad, I guess.

And nothing a big old, white floured, full-fat veggy cream cheese layered high bagel with a big ole cup of high test coffee wouldn't fix...

Perspective, right?

First Annual Science Fair

Catchy title, eh?  It's all I've got today.

So, I have this friend, Wendy who is crazy creative and uber cool in a quirky, fun sort of way - and she has these mad imagination skills.  We grew up together, and for as long as I can remember she has always been this way.  I LOVED having playdates with her when we were little girls.  She made our playtime come alive - no matter what we did.

And now we're all grown up living just a couple of towns away from each other with families of our own.  She is also a homeschooling Mama - and very much an encouragement and inspiration to me and my floudering first years of figuring out this whole journey.  Anyway, now her crazy, cool imagination overflows into her homeschooling life, and thankfully - she brings a whole huge whack of us along for the ride.  She is the one who throws an end of the year field day in her big backyard.  She is the one who throws the Valentine parties and the winter retreats.  Left to my own devices, my poor children probably wouldn't have any fun if it weren't for Miss Wendy.

She is also the one who pretty much single-handedly put together a homeschool Science fair for about forty of us yesterday.  All we had to do was to figure out a project to do, bring some food to share, and show up.  That in itself stressed me out.

Whilst she and I grew up together in the same little country hometown, her creativity and imaginative genes did not overflow onto me.  So, my wee boyzies and I struggled for awhile on what we were going to share.  When a topic is as wide open as "anything to do with Science" - well, that kind of paralyzes Kaden and I.  We like clearly defined boundaries.  Jesse is a different story, but we were all in this together, so we all had to agree on one single topic.  We had a couple of turtles awhile back, so I thought we were golden - but then they got depressed and wouldn't eat, so we decided to let them go.

 Ye ole classic tri-fold posterboard...

Finally, on one of our jillion walks in the woods, after finding a snake and three salamanders on said walk, we all agreed that we should just go with what we know.  We know nature, we know creepy crawlies, and that's pretty much what the boys live and breathe anyway, so that's what we did.  We had six salamanders of three different breeds, a snake (which our cat almost killed the night before.  Holy stressful.), tons of things to touch and feel, and pictures of just about everything they've ever caught, captured, and released.

Super fun.
And the whole day was a huge success.

 There were bearded dragons...

 A volcano exhibit.
You cannot possibly have a Science fair without at least one volcano.

And I learned something new yesterday....  I grew up with the classic vinegar and baking soda volcano explosions.  WELL!  Just let me tell you the most amazing reaction that happens with Diet Coke and Mentos!!!  It was crazy!!!  Apparantly there are a jillion YouTube videos going around with different explosions using these two items, and it's sort of old news.  I had no idea, but guess what's going into our grocery cart next shopping trip?  Micah used 5 mentos, and it was amazing.  Just think what could happen with an entire package!!!

 There was a tsunami exhibit...

 Worm composting...

Digestion...with a grody, cool demonstration...

 Turtles, amphibians, ants, rabbits, dinosaurs, simple machines, and more!

Wendy also had some fun contests to see who could build the tallest structures out of toothpicks, marshmallows, and cheetos - and every single kid had a chance to try.  Kaden totally followed the rules and tried to win, Jesse focused on creativity, and Ransom focused on making himself tiny little marshmallow "sth-nackies.  Mm.  This is a yummy treat treat!"

That's my boy.

Another thing I love about Wendy's events is that there is a huge gamet of ages, faiths, and backgrounds.  The big kids play with the younger ones, and it doesn't matter where you come from, or your political stances.  There is just mutual respect and mutual friendship; and I love that.

I also love that the Moms are all chill and pretty cool.  I don't feel "weird" and I don't feel like I'm competing.  That's kind of important to me.  Well....I know I'm weird...I just love that I'm not made to feel any weirder than I already am..

And I loved the food.

 I mean seriously, right?

If I had been in charge of the food, I would have left it simply at "just bring snacks."
Wendy tied it all together.  She made magnifying glass cakes.

And look at the sandwiches she had us bring....

Being the amazing homeschooling Mama that I am, I said to the boys:  "We're putting letters on these because it's going be in the form of the Periodic Table of Elements.  What?  You don't know what that means?.... Me neither.  I have totally forgotten my entire Chemistry education, therefore  Miss Wendy will explain when we get there."

Thanks, Wendy.
You rock.  Hardcore.
And thanks for ed-ju-ma-cating my children.

A Hunting Ditty.

Being married to a hunter/fisherman and having three little boys who want to be just like their Daddy - I feel like my life is divided into two neatly packaged seasons.  Spring and Summer we are all things fishing, and Fall and Winter we are all things hunting. 

I'm actually completely okay with both - although I do tease that I think I deserve a reward once the seasons are over... 
Or at least some Chinese food when we get home from our escapades.  I'm easy.
No jewels for this girl.  I'm all about the food.

Anyway, in honor of those Spring and Summer months,  I wrote a little Fishing Ditty several weeks back.  And today, in honor of our little hunting jaunt in the woods for our Family Day - which shockingly yielded a partridge despite three Littles - I have created a little remix to my previous summer ditty of delight.

Here goes....
And yes, I was writing it while I was supposed to be scouting for birdies...
What can I say?  When the spirit moves, I have to listen.


A Hunting Ditty.

I have three hunting hoolies -
And one large hunting man.
They like to hunt from dawn til dusk -
This is their hunting plan.

I like the fuzzy comfort
Of my warm and cozy bed.
And getting up real early -
Well, that just hurts my head.

My men - they love adventure.
For them - it's never old.
Me?  Not so much my favorite --
Freeze my buns off in the cold?

Well, doesn't that sound joyous?
Girly fun?  Classy?  Sublime?
With a household of testosterone -
It's a rockin' fine good time...

My boys have caught the sickness -
They have the "hunting flu."
When Family Day arriveth -
And I ask, "What shall we do?"

Well, Plan A is for hunting.
And Plan B - it is the same.
Plan C? - oh yes...you guessed it -
Until we shoot some game.

And so we traipse the forest
In our hunter orange ablaze.
This view of their four backsides -
Is all I see these days...

At first they act real quiet.
Just a tiptoe - hop that log.
But then, they get distracted -
Climbing trees and catching frogs.

Their whispers turn to yelling -
And their walk - a full out run.
They wrestle, shout, and fall in muck
Before our hike is done.

We also need a beastly truck
That handles like a man...
Our girl can't take these escapades
That kill her belly pan.

We'll come home cold and tired -
Full of fresh air, dirt, and sun.
With some luck -- also a partridge -
It's delicious!  Oh so yum!

Well worth the freezing bunzies -
And the filthy clothes galore.
A day spent with my four men in the woods --
Who needs much more?

And someday up in Heaven -
I'll do the things girls do.
On second thought -- who could I fool?
I'm Proud Hick - through and through!

Dedicated to my four Loves ~
Hopefully you'll have more memories of your Mama having fun on our adventures than of her complaints of being cold...

Something More.

Our Thanksgiving Table.

Every year, as the Holidays approach ~ I love getting ideas of fun and simple ways to help keep all of our focuses on what we are really celebrating and on all that we have to be thankful for.  As I have been recording in my "Joy Journal" for over a year now, it's just been really cool to see a perspective shift and a better realization of all that I have - even in spite of some junk that life likes to throw in every now and then.

It is beyond true - in my life at least - that "the joy of the small is truly what makes life large."

After all - isn't that what so much of life is, anyway?  Small stuff?  The typical, day to day, and often mundane bunch of "normals" that repeats itself over and over again - maybe with just a few extra messes thrown in for some extra flavor?  But, if we can see all of the little gifts amidst the grand, overarching sweep of the mundane and the mess, the chaos and the pain...I think that's a gift in and of itself.

And as my boys get older - with every passing year - I can see afresh and anew the need for cultivating gratitude in their own little lives, as well.  It is something that does not come naturally for most, and if I can help grow that attitude of gratitude just a bit in their little hearts while they are still young, so that it can maybe become a habit when they are older, well I think that's a pretty good success story, in my book.  And their wives might just rise up and call me blessed, someday, as well...

So, as Thanksgiving approaches - which is my all time fave holiday, by the way, because the whole frenzied gift giving saga is not yet in the mix of all the craziness - what better time to start a "Family Joy Journal" of sorts?

For the past couple of years, we have done a "thankful tree" where every day up until Thanksgiving, we write things that we are thankful for onto leaves and place them on a tree - all the while watching it grow big and bushy with all of our lists of thanks.  The boys love that, so we are doing it again.

But, another idea I saw in "Thriving Family" magazine (which is free, by the way) is to hide 500 pennies all around your house, and whenever anyone finds a coin - right then and there, they yell out something they are thankful for and they place it into a jar...ultimately culminating in 500 Thanks by the end of the "game."  Kinda' cool.  Simple, maybe somewhat redundant in addition to the tree - by in my humble opinion, one can never practice enough.

So, that's what we're doing.  Only we are using any spare change that we all have - the boys' money included, and we are all taking turns hiding it everywhere.  Whenever we find one, we record something that we're thankful for, and then in a few weeks we'll cash in all of our change to buy gifts for Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes for little boys their own ages somewhere in the world.

I love it.  They love it.  I'm learning.  They're learning.
And even Ransom is learning that sometimes it's painful to give.  When he finds a "pieth of money" he wants it.  It's his.  And it's hard for him to give it up.  Man, I see myself reflected in those actions.  So, we're growing together...

And we are recording our thanks together.

And if you're ever over for a visit and you find a piece of cash...feel free to play along, as well!

So, tell me - what fun traditions are you doing with your littles as the Holidays approach?

Oh Deer.

DISCLAIMER:  I am well aware that many of my friends and family members are not fans of hunting and killing animals.  So, this is your fair warning to probably not read this post or look at these pictures.  I fully respect those feelings, so I want to give you a heads up before you read on any further and potentially see something that will bother you.

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Giving you time to look away.....

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Okay, here we go......

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I was raised in a hunting family, I grew up with all brothers, and my family never had a lot of money; so any time a deer or a handful of patridge were brought home by my Dad or one of my bro's, this was viewed as a very real gift and provision from the Lord.  Truly.

While everyone did love the thrill of the hunt, I am sure; and while it was always thrilling to bring home a prize to the rest of the family to be excited about - we never hunted for sport, we always showed respect to the animal, and we always used every bit of it that we possibly could - making sure to have the least amount of waste possible.  This is how our Dad raised us, and this is how we are raising our three boys.

In my opinion, any form of wild game is the healthiest and most organic food that we could ever feed our family -- not to mention, quite possibly the most humane method of obtaining our food, as well.  I think if we all really knew how our grocery store meat was treated before it made it to our table, we might all change our opinions a bit on that pre-packaged lovliness that is so easy to buy.

But, that's just my opinion.

My main point, is this post is in no way a glorification of a kill.  It is a story of how one big Daddy brought home meat to feed his family for a winter....

This is our sixth deer, but Kev's very first shot with a bow.
Now, that's hot in my book.
I'm just sayin'....

Getting a deer with a bow is, in my humble opinion anyway, a bit harder than getting one with a gun.  You have to be that much closer and that much quieter for the deer to not see you - AND for you to be sure to not miss.  Kev shot this doe at ten yards, and she pretty much fell right where she was shot.

She weighed in around 120 pounds.  We let her hang for a couple of days, and then began the process of skinning and cutting the meat.  To be honest, this is NOT my most favorite part of the hunt.  It's quite a bit of work, it's messy, and it smells just a wee bit growthy...

However, it's actually kind of cool.  Every year we get a little bit better with learning the anatomy and figuring out what parts are best for roasts or for steaks, for hamburger or for stew meat.  Per our tradition, we cut up and eat the tenderloin the very first day.  It is the absolute best cut of meat I have ever eaten in my life, and I'm really not a huge red meat lover.  This however, is Heaven on a plate.

The deer are healthy this year - so they say... not sure who "they" are - but there was quite a bit of fat on her, so it shows that she was eating well.  Our good friend Brent offered to help with the butchering, so that was a huge gift and blessing.  Otherwise, it would just have been Kev and I, and it would have taken us forever.  But, with the help of a friend, strong coffee, and some solid YouTube videos, we were done in just a few hours.

And now we have meat in our freezer, full bellies, thankful hearts, and one heck of an anatomy/science lesson under our belts.

Until next year.
Or expanded zone... 

Three.

Three years ago yesterday afternoon - very great with child - we moved, for the seventh time in our marriage, into our sweet little house with the help of SO many family and friends.  We got each box set down into the appropriate rooms, we got paint colors chosen for the living room and bedrooms, my kitchen was completely set up, and our bedroom made ready for you.  And as we crashed into bed late that night, I looked at Daddy with a very contented smile and said:  "If the baby chooses to come tonight, I am ready."

While most of our new home was in a bit of chaos....
My kitchen was set up so I could feed my family.
And a place was prepared to bring you home.
So, come you did that very next morning.
Three years ago today....

My sweet Ransom Malachi.  "God's Messenger of Hope and Deliverance."
My hardest labor, my easiest baby, my strongest willed. 
My dimpled, lisping sweet little boy.
My heart is so very full of YOU.

Everyone asked if I had wanted a girl. 
And everyone knows that I couldn't be happier with my third little Boy Joy.

Today marks three years since your sweet, fiesty presence joined our little family, and I can hardly remember life without you.  I love that you LOVE playing with cars and trucks from the time you wake up until the time you go to bed.  I love that you love to "snuggie on the bed" and that you are SUCH a cuddler.  I love your dimple, and your hilarious little lisp -- especially when you potty talk your favorite phrase to everyone:  "You thstink juthst like trathsh".  We can't help but die laughing, and you know it's good for shock value....so that shall go down in the books as your most favorite phrase of the year.

I love your sweet little prayers and your adoration for your brothers.  I love that you are strong and can hold your own with them.  I love how you lug the kitten everywhere under your arm like a football, and that your ratty old puppy is still your most favorite possession.  I love your crazy wild dance moves, and your funny conversations and uproarious laughter from your bedroom in the wee hours of the morning.

And I love this age.

So sweet.  So tender.  So trusting and so un-hurt yet by this world.  It'll happen, Love.  But Jesus is bigger.  And He loves you madly, and He wants you to trust Him wildly.  And He wants you to fall so deeply in love with Him that no matter what junk life throws at you, you will NEVER doubt that He is good.  And that He has good plans for You - plans to make you prosper.  Plans to make you grow.  Plans to grow you into a man who will love with abandon and who will have faith that can move mountains.

That's my prayer for you, Ransom.
That no matter what - you will stay tender.
Watch your Daddy.  Watch him journey.  See his heart. 
And even better - watch your Heavenly Daddy.  Learn His heart.  Take the journey.

Happy third birthday, my Love.
Per your request there shall be pancakes and eggs, balloons, and chocolate cake.

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4150.  Dimples and sweet little lisps.
4151.  Squishing hugs and "I missed you's" in the morning.
4152.  Strong will, tender heart.
4153.  Healthy and happy - safe and secure.
4154.  potty training #3 down in the books.  phew.
4155.  snuggles on the bed, cuddles and "wead one more stowy."
4156.  dance fests in the kitchen.
4157.  tender prayers to Jesus.
4158.  Blond haired, blue-eyed, three feet of deliciousness.
4159.  Kitchen helper; coffee maker.
4160.  Sweet conversations, tender love for others.
 

These Fall Days.

Well, I guess it's official - Fall is in the air.  I do so LOVE this seasion, although I absolutely despise being cold.  So, as long as the sun is shining and the wind isn't whipping, I'm a happy lady. 

'Tis the season for all things pumpkin and bittersweet...

 'Tis also the season for all things Heater Hunting when it comes to Family Day.  My boys all have hunting on the BRAIN, so this little routine works for everyone.  I love driving around drinking coffee (and staying warm), they love the idea that they might get something, and we all love going on adventures.  It's win win.

This tradition was started when Ransom was first newborn.  We'd load everyone up in the car bright and early in the morning - all decked out in orange of course...well, except me.  I'm too vain - and we'd drive until we'd come to an old dirt road.

Then, we'd release the hoolies from their seatbelts.
 
Kaden and Jesse would get to ride up in the front seat, and I would hunker down in back with the baby.  We are in our third year of this now, and it's fun to see how Ransom gets just as much into it as the older boys.

 And it goes a little something like this.....

They all hang out the windows.
We tell them eight jillion times to quiet down or we'll NEVER see anything.
They remember this tidbit of knowledge for 1.2 billionth of a second.
We load up on snacks and treats.
And we reconcile ourselves to the fact that we probably will never get a blessed thing.

 And we sometimes release them to run wild....and to target practice on them.
Just kidding.

This past time, however, we did see three patridge, a snake, and three salamanders.  That's better than most times.  And last time we came home with a shattered windshield because Jesse was being so crazy he crashed his head into it.  Didn't hurt HIM in the least, although the car was decently damaged.  That was awesome.

Thus ended that heater hunting trip quite abruptly.
Just think of the memories they'll have for their own kids some day.
So special.

 Ahhh yes.  Sweet memories of Fall...