LIVING IN THE LAND OF "SOG"

Recently, my eldest daughter coined a new term for our household.  It happened a few days ago, when she and my middle daughter, Claire, were elbow deep in Playdoh.  They were playing together just fine when suddenly I hear this almost unhuman screech followed by a high-pitched sentence, "M-O-M!! Claire just got SOG on the table!!"  Although I had no idea what "sog" might be, I immediately searched the table. . . and saw nothing.  I turned to my daughter who was shrinking away from the table like it might bite her and asked her where this "sog" might be?  She slowly reached over and pointed to the small speck of colored wetness. . . no bigger than the tip of a pen.  Apparently, Claire had taken a small bite of her orange Playdoh and spit it out.  I quickly chastised Ava for making such a commotion and told her "don't you know mommy can easily take care of such a mess?!  Don't get so emotional over something so small!" I removed the small bit of "sog" with the brush of my finger and the incident was resolved.

Fast forward a day.  I haven't left the house much in the last month due to several rounds of sickness in our family, so Hudson graciously offered to watch the girls for me so I could go do something for a few hours.  After spending a fun evening catching up with my mom over dinner, I received a phone call from him informing me that he was standing in ankle deep water . . . in our bathroom!  Obviously, the flapper on the toilet got stuck and all the water just kept running and running until it spilled into our bedroom and made its way through the wall and into the nursery on the other side.  As I quickly rushed home, my mind began to whirl in frustration.  How could he have been home all this time and not realized at some point in the three hours since he left the bathroom that the toilet never stopped running!!  I would never have let that happen!!  

Have I happened to mention I can be kind of a germ-a-phobe neat freak?  Well, I am.  I don't care how "crystal clear" the water may have been, it was still flowing out of a contaminated vessel!!  (I have to stop here and just say that I am extremely thankful that God allowed me the time the day before to completely bleach and clean my bathroom from top to bottom because it had been three months since such an intense cleaning had occurred and it made this situation a little bit more easy to digest. . . but just a very little bit better.)  So, of course my paranoid, germ anxious mind was in a complete frazzle by the time I got home.  My husband met me at the door (not a good sign in this case) and I know he was extremely nervous about my reaction.  I would love to say that I was a good wife and "chose joy and love" but I didn't.  I won't tell you what I said, but my attitude was awful!  I situated the baby in the living room and prepared myself for the mess I was about to behold.

I walked to the door of our bedroom and watched my husband slosh his way to the other side. . . I would be lying if I said I didn't want to cry.

As I stood there, I heard a soft whisper.  Since I was still yelling at Hudson in my mind I realized maybe I should be quiet for a moment and just listen . . . and I heard something that sounded very familiar. "It's going to be just fine.  This is such a small mess in comparison to some of the difficulties I have seen you through. Lean into Me."  It only took me a moment before my brain flashed me back a day, to the afternoon of the "sog" incident.  Ava had been completely undone by the small little mess on the table, and I had been so quick to tell her how silly she was to respond in such a way.  Yet here I was, responding to my mess in the same way, and God was sweetly, gently, kindly telling me that it was no big deal.  In reality, my "sog" of a mess was no different than Ava's.  Perhaps it will take a little longer to rectify, but in the end it's just some annoying (albeit gross) water that spilled out on accident.  I was immediately repentant of my quick chastisement of Ava's "drama" and reminded that life is so much bigger than a little water.  

Slowly, gently, sweetly, God is teaching me that He is so much bigger than my circumstances.  Life is full of ups and downs.  Some downs seem much worse than others.  But in the end it's such a small annoyance in the realm of God's grace, love, and power.  Circumstances come and go with the winds of time.  My prayer is that someday I might be able to react to these with grace and simply relax into the shelter of His wings - riding out the stormy winds in peace knowing He is fully able to handle a little big of "sog".  

"Not only do we rejoice in the hope given to us through Jesus Christ because He justified us and gave us peace with God - we also should rejoice in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance, proven character, and hope which does not disappoint because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit." (Romans 5:1-5)

MOMENTS IN MOTHERHOOD

When I discovered I was pregnant with our first sweet girl, I was so excited.  I couldn't wait to experience all those "moments".  You know the ones I'm talking about. . . "bonding" with my baby during the afterglow of birthing, looking deeply into my baby's eyes while I nurse and sensing the tie that we shared those nine months.  I was looking forward to all the "firsts" and the tender moments of rocking my baby in my arms as she drifted off to sleep.

You can imagine my surprise when, after twenty-four hours of back labor, I did not experience an "after glow". My sweet girl ingested fluid and after a brief few seconds looking at her (adorable) scrunched up, crying face, we were parted for over four hours while they pumped her lungs.  When they finally brought her to me, I was even more shocked that she really wanted nothing to do with me.  She was angry (I would have been too if they had been working on me for that long without getting food!) and decided not to latch.  After 24 hours of fighting with her about latching, she became really jaundiced and because she refused to nurse, we decided it was best for her to begin supplementing while we worked on the latching. By the time I left the hospital, I was tired, my baby didn't want anything but a bottle, and all my dreams of those sweet "moments" were dashed.  

Of course I had expected having a baby would be tiring.  It would be an adjustment.  But I had read so many books. . . and talked with so many moms.  I thought I was prepared. 

I wasn't.  Not only that, but because so many moms "loved every moment" of having their babies, I felt like I was abnormal.  That I had missed out and was not "mom" material.  I spent the whole first year of motherhood feeling inadequate and unmotherly.  I hated nursing (I finally got her to latch, and with the support of my sweet mom, we became a successful nursing duo) because my daughter only wanted me to hold her when she needed food, but other than that, she wanted me to leave her alone.  Oh, and all those people who lose all their weight while nursing? Not me.  I gained 50 lbs. nursing my sweet daughter her first year!  My daughter wouldn't snuggle with me, gaze into my eyes, or fall asleep in my arms.  I spent many late nights, nursing this baby I truly loved, yet I was feeling extremely guilty because I was hating the whole "baby" experience.   

I thought motherhood came naturally.  If it were so "natural" why was it so hard?  I convinced myself that I just wasn't as good at being a natural as my friends were and spent the whole first year wrought with guilt and dismay at what my new baby experience had been.  I felt truly sorry for my daughter. . . that she should have such an "unmotherly" mom.  It is only by the grace of God and the sweet support of my husband and mom that I made it through that first year.

So, what's the point?  Glad you asked!! Since having my first baby, I have had two other precious baby girls, and I have come to realize that motherhood is something you can't prepare for.  Each baby born has their own individual personality.  Some are more difficult than others.  Some babies are born "natural" nursers. . . others aren't.  Some first time moms hit the jackpot with an easy birth, a natural nurser, and a good sleeper.  What these moms aren't telling you, is that they, too, had their own rough spots.  It isn't their fault, or the baby's.  It's just life.  Those "moments" we dream of don't always happen in just the way we want, but as I look back over that first rough year, I remember all sorts of "moments" that I wouldn't trade for anything.  All the sweet prayers I prayed over her as I listened to her wail.  The intermingling of our tears as we both fought to adjust to our new world.  We struggled through it together and it is a special bond.  

So, to any of you who are not having that "perfect" baby experience, learn from mine!  You are normal.  Motherhood is hard.  Yes, it is wonderful, but sometimes those wonderful moments seem few and far between.  Cherish those good moments, get through the tough ones and throw them back!  If being a mom brings you to tears at least once a day, find comfort in the fact that you aren't alone.  There are many other mothers in the trenches with you. . . praying and crying their way through the night with  their children of all ages :)    

THOUGHTS FOR TODAY

Since last writing, we have had the amazing experience of adding a beautiful new daughter to our family. I could never before have imagined how fulfilled we would feel with our three little girls.  The older girls have done a wonderful job acclimating to having a newborn in the house and the love they feel for her is spelled out in many wet kisses and smothering hugs!

The many wonderful moments have been mixed with the normal ups and downs of everyday life.  It's those "underbelly" moments that I always find myself struggling the most to recover from.  This past week, my husband started a new job, my daughter and I came down with a stomach bug, I sprained my neck in a way that kept me almost immobile for forty-eight hours, and yesterday, as I was just regaining movement in my neck. . . tornados sprung up all around my area.  I will admit to you, I came undone.  I had no idea where my husband was (he is in recruit school and they are not allowed to have their phones on them), all I knew was that he, along with most of the rest of my family were out there in the middle of it all.  I found myself throwing my arms up to heaven and half crying/half whispering "I can't do this".  The news was showing dark images of the tornado ripping through town and I was just picturing it hitting the school where my husband was, my parents house, or one of my siblings houses.  Just as the images I was watching, combined with all the mental images of the past week, collided, I was filled with understanding.  I can't do it.  Life is hard.  It is unyielding.  It threatens to crush and destroy every small piece of hope or joy that I have.  That is why I have to fight.  And by fight, I mean give in.  In a single moment I felt overwhelmed and overcome, yet alive and ready.  I gathered my girls up in my arms and we prayed.  We gave our fear to the Lord, and I relinquished my desire to have my own way.  I realized that living through this past week had given me strength.  Many many times when I was pushed to exhaustion, the Lord gave me the strength I needed to keep getting up and keep moving forward.  

Now that the sun has come out, I realize even more that the Lord gave me many gifts over the past week that I had been mentally deeming "hell week".  We all recovered from the "bug" without me having to put us all in the car and go to the doctor and the pharmacy by myself (if you know me, that is HUGE).  I sprained my neck, but thankfully not my back (which has happened before and truly left me immobile) and I was still able to manage by myself.  My house only received a bit of rain yesterday, but nothing hard, no hail, and the tornado completely redirected away from my parents house as well as my siblings'.  I have three beautiful girls to take care of.  My husband HAS a job, when there are many doing without, and it's a job he has dreamed about.  These are just a few. . . but good reminders that life is about perspective.  I hope one day I will remember on the outset that God's gifts to me REALLY DO outweigh the yuck I mire myself in. . . So much of it is mental!  I am so glad for His gentle reminder that life is not about me getting by on my own, but rather it is about experiencing the peaks and the valley with Him.  Seeing each one as a gift and a chance to know Him through each circumstance.  God is so good to us, even on the darkest of "underbelly" days!

If you find yourself in a hard or dark place like I so often have found myself, I highly recommend reading "One Thousand Gifts: a dare to live fully right where you are" by Ann Voskamp.  Her challenge is the difference between living your life in black and white, or in HD color!!  

REFLECTIONS

Our tree has been put away and the only remaining hints that Christmas was here are the cookie tins sitting in my kitchen, the mound of Christmas candy in our cupboards, and the surplus of toys bulging out of my daughters' closets.

January means so many different things to me.  First of all, it is the beginning of a new year.  Many people have either made resolutions for this year, or are making them this month.  It is a season of new beginnings and fresh starts.  For several years now, instead of making resolutions, I have chosen to make the month of January a month of reflection - reflection on the events of the last year, how I have chosen to respond to those events, and who I am in light of my response.  For how can we really know what type of "resolve" to make about a new year when we have not adequately evaluated where we have come from?  And how can we make a decision about where we are heading if we have not taken time to consult the Lord who alone can know our future?  

James says it best, "Come, now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and make a profit"-- yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring.  What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that." (James 4:13-15, ESV).

There are many things that I would love to do and finish this year.  My husband and I have planned to finish our degrees this semester, we are expecting our third daughter on February 6th, we would like to plan healthier meals, get in better shape, spend more time doing beneficial things with our girls and less time watching TV, we want to memorize more scripture, know our Lord more deeply. . . the list goes on and on.  But so many things on our "to do" list require that we be in step with the Lord's desires for us.  Nothing is for certain.  Health is not guaranteed.  Plans fall through.  We do not know what God's desire and plan for our precious unborn child are.  We have to allow our ideals to be sifted, molded, and changed. . . we have to remain pliable and soft to the will of the One who knows what is truly best for us and our future. 

Seven years ago in January, I felt the Lord urge me to take a blank sheet of paper out, and instead of filling it with what I wanted for the year, I simply put the year at the top and prayed for Him to fill my year with whatever blessing and lessons He wanted to give me.  I prayed for His goodness and love to shine through me, for my walk with Him to grow closer, and that I would know Him in a new and deeper way.  The Lord gave me many blessings that year. . . I can't remember all of the good things that He did for me. . . but I remember my heart being overfilled with so many good things.  

Toward the middle of the year a shadow began to fall over my family.  We didn't expect it, we hadn't planned for it.  Our family experienced a deep pain that changed us.  The unexpected illness and sudden death of my dad happened six years ago today.  Not only did we grieve the death of a husband and father, we grieved the end of our way of life.  My mom had to re-enter the work force after being a homeschooling, stay at home mom for the last twenty-one years.  My siblings and I were in school fully supported by our dad.  Yes, everything had changed. . . The Lord stripped many things from our family that year, but He also added - even though there are still hurts that we cannot understand, I know that God's timing in death and life was, and is, perfect and good. 

Our plans never involve things that offer pain. . . If it were up to us, we would always choose to run around it and never have to suffer loss in any way.  But I thank God for the pain He has chosen to let me walk through.  Don't get me wrong, I still would never choose the hard blessings or painful circumstances. . . But I am thankful that God truly does care enough to let me walk those dark valleys with Him.  In pain, we learn things from Him that we would have never known otherwise and experience intimacy with Him that can only come from going down into the depths of sorrow with Him.  

As I reflect over this past year and make plans for things I "hope" the Lord lets us accomplish in the coming year, I am filled with humility as I remember the valleys and mountains He has brought us through.  Make room in your resolution lists this year for the Lord and whatever that might entail.  Showers of goodness and mercies are often mixed with showers of sadness and loss.  Blessing is found when we turn our eyes to the Lord in faith knowing "He is good and does only good" (Psalm 119:68).

"I walked a mile with Pleasure;

She chatted all the way;

But left me none the wiser

For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with Sorrow;

and ne'er a word said she;

But, oh! The things I learned from her,

When Sorrow walked with me." 

- Robert Browning

SEASONS

I love the fall. . . I always have.  In Texas, you don't get to see all the color when the trees change, but I still imagine it.  The summer temps start to cool off and you get that antsy feeling waiting for winter.  Pumpkins initiate a season of festivities . . . I can't wait for sweaters, apple cider, hot chocolate, and shivering in my house under a blanket.  Yes, I even welcome the football season.  My husband doesn't really follow football, but in my house growing up, my dad loved it.  It didn't matter if it was college ball or the NFL.  We watched it all.  If there was a game showing, we were playing it!  I love every aspect of the fall season and look forward to it each year.

Fall also marks a sadness for me.  Six years ago this November, right before Thanksgiving, doctors discovered that my dad was suffering from cancer.  By the time they found it, he was stage four.  We didn't realize then that when we spent Thanksgiving in the hospital, surrounded by family and close friends, that it would be our last one with him.

God allowed us forty-eight days with my dad after he was diagnosed.  We spent our last Christmas and New Year together and he slipped into eternity January 3, 2006.

Every year, about this time, my heart feels the familiar ache and longing for him.  After my dad's passing, I remember how angry I was that God had chosen my favorite season to bring about such pain and sorrow.  How could I ever enjoy the fall and winter months again when they brought with them such deep and dark memories?  So much heartache and longing for what will never be?

My dad missed my wedding, and meeting my wonderful husband.  He has missed each birth of my beautiful daughters, and I will never see him cradle them with pride.  I will never watch football with him again.  I will never watch him carve our Thanksgiving turkey again.  So many things I will miss, and so many things he was not here for.  

In my pain, the Lord whispers gently to me.  While the pain is still ever-present, His truth is the balm that my heart needs.  The world and sin are to blame for taking my dad, his earthly body could not overcome it.  The Lord has given me a confidence and hope in the midst of my sorrow.  I will see my dad again, for he is with my Lord.  He is waiting for me, and I have confidence that what the world has taken away, the Lord will restore to me again.  I will once again see his face, and feel his arms around me.

While I was angry at Him for marking my favorite seasons with such sorrow, I now see it as a wonderful gift of love to me personally.  Fall still fills me with expectancy.  I still look forward to the sweaters, the cold air, the warm cider and hot chocolate.  But now I have reason to be ever more expectant.  Expectant that after the cold deadness of winter has passed, there will be new life again.  The seasons a symbol to me of the greater story of love and redemption that Christ has left for us.  The somberness of grief and sorrow, is met with a joyful hope and expectancy.  I will see my Savior face to face, and I will also see my dad again.  I have real reasons to be thankful at Thanksgiving.  I have such a wonderful hope to celebrate as we remember Christ's birth at Christmas! New Year's now reminds me of the new life I will find when I too, pass from this dark life of pain and sorrow, and join my Savior and family that have gone before me in celebration of Christ's victory over death and pain.

So if you see me with a tear in my eye this season, know that all is well.  My heart is just aching in joyful expectancy of life without pain. . . and I am basking in the presence of my heavenly Father, knowing that my earthly father is doing the same.

THREE?!

Since I've been away from the blogging world, we have found out some very exciting news. . . well, it's exciting now, but to be honest when I first found out I was in a total state of shock. 

WE ARE EXPECTING BABY NUMBER THREE!

Because there are two and a half years between our first two, and we did all the same things this time around, imagine my surprise when I discovered my sleepy, nauseated body was carrying more than a flu bug. . . 

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am a planner.  I can never wait to find out the sex of our child on the birth day. . . I HAVE to know early, so I can plan a name, buy clothes, plan a theme for the nursery etc.  When we had our second little girl, we were ready for her.  Excited that Ava would have a little playmate and that she was old enough to help out (somewhat) when her sister arrived.  But Claire is only ten months old. . .   

So when I saw the lines on the test. . . I threw it away and retested.  THREE TIMES.  It took me six hours to recover enough that I could share the news with my sweet husband.  While we have planned on the probability of having more than two kids, we really had never thought they would be this close together.  I think what scared me most when I looked at those little pink lines was the reaction I knew we would encounter about this sweet little one that was now a part of our lives.

After all, in our modern American society let's just put it out there. . . Having more than two children per family is looked down on.  If you have more than two, how can YOU still have all YOU want?  How can YOU still do all YOU want?  In some circles, it's unfathomable.  I have to say, part of me understands it.  I may be a stay at home mom right now, but I still have dreams and expectations of myself.  I still have places to go and things that I truly believe God wants to fulfill in my life.  Motherhood is a part of who I am. . . and I love it!  But it is not the end of who I am. . . 

I believe God has allowed me to have children to show me how selfish I am.  I want things when I want them, and I am learning to leave my wants and my timetable with the Lord.  I love a clean house. . . I love to feel productive. . . but sometimes with kids, your daily productivity is intangible.  It's there, but you can't always grasp it and show it off.  Everyday that passes, I find myself gaining more and more peace with the Lord. . . learning to trust Him with the plans and to lean into Him.  

All that to say, the shock has worn off and the readjustment has begun.  My life is not ending, but is being enriched with the new life God is forming.  So, if you are one of those "kind" individuals who wants to do the math and let me know how far apart (or close together) my youngest and middle children will be, or you feel the need to share with me how "blessed" you are to not have as many, or just simply gasp at the thought, thank you, but the math has been done and we have counted our blessings and find that we are overfilled with God's love and goodness in our lives as He has entrusted us with this precious new life.  

We are so thankful to be surrounded with much love and support from family and friends who are excited with us!  LET'S PARTY!

CROCK POT APPLESAUCE = YUM!

This recipe is going to (maybe) sound crazy, but it is REALLY good!! I wanted to try making my own applesauce, and I wanted to do it without having to cook it on the stove. . . just peeling the apples is enough prep for me!!

I also wanted it to be healthy and baby friendly for our nine month old.  I bought three pounds of organic Braeburn apples at Sprouts last Saturday for $0.99 lb.  but I didn't think that once the apples cooked down, I would have as much applesauce as I wanted so I decided to add a pound of baby carrots. . . let me just tell you, it's amazing!!  Sugar free and packed with lots of vitamin C!  I wasn't sure how it would taste, but the final product was absolutely fantastic!! Great for healthy snacks for you and your kids and the babies too!!

Here is the recipe:

3 lbs. apples

1 lb. baby carrots - easy because they are already peeled!

*2 cups apple juice (I used the 100% juice with no sugar - I think it needed this to add some sweetness)

cinnamon to taste

1/2 tsp. salt

Peel the apples and cut them into chunks (this is the hardest part).  Add the carrots, then the apples, and pour 2 cups apple juice on top. Add cinnamon to taste. . . I sprinkled a healthy smattering on top, but you can always add more later so don't over do it!  Add the salt.  Cook for 5-8 hrs on low (the apples were soft really early, but it takes the carrots awhile to get soft).

Once the carrots are soft, it is done and smells delicious!  I made the mistake of putting my apples in first, so my carrots never got as mushy as the apples. . . I think if you cook the carrots on the bottom they will get soft enough that you can mash them with a potato masher for chunky applesauce.  Because mine were soft, but not mushy, I used the food processor to make mine smooth (it's also easier for our baby to eat). 

I hope you will enjoy this recipe as much as we did!! 

*If you don't mind adding some sugar, you could add brown sugar instead of the juice.