What the family does when they have a few extra minutes...

We had a simply wonderful weekend. Wonderful. Simply.

It is not as though all others have not been good but they have been a bit full of stuff. Running to this, preparing for that. And while that may be important stuff and necessary stuff...it isn't always the GOOD stuff.

So this weekend past we were all here. Together. Without a calender full of other stuff to do. So after a little community service project, on Dad and Nicholas' part, we filled up our tummies with some delicious hash brown egg bake, a favorite in our house, and then got busy with fun stuff.

Ornament painting. So much fun. I think they did great.

Sledding & Snowboarding.

This little snow bunny was supposed to be napping. But she refused to be left out of this activity. So she took her first ride down the hill with mom. Red nose and all.

The big girls.

The big man.

Because dad wanted to help with Elli, he was the official cinematographer, baby watcher, tootsie warmer, and all around good guy. Although Andrew did go down a few times, he preferred to visit with dad in the van. So he missed the photo op's.
Olivia and I went down the hill no less than 25 times.

Sunday evening we re-enacted the Nativity Story as a family. I realize now, that I may need a few more shepherd's, and wise men, a couple sheep and a few donkey's too....or maybe we could just ask the neighbors to fill a few roles in the future.

Here the angel Gabriel(a) announces to Mary that she will conceive a son by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Have you ever seen a happier shepherd?

"Behold! I bring you glad tidings of great JOY!"

Joseph leads the donkey (I could say so much about the donkey....), carrying Mary into Bethlehem.

Baby Jesus was a very large child. And not all that cooperative either.

Mary ponders all these things in her heart.

While the other shepherd's were on a coffee break, this one got to hear of the good news alone!

The donkey was also the Wise Man...the lone wise man, but he was a very good wise man, as he brought multiple gifts! My kind of wise man.

And here is the entire cast. Notice baby Jesus eating Joseph's staff.

We ended the weekend and night by attending a reconciliation service together as a family. And what greater blessing is there than that, the forgiveness of sins?

We had a simply wonderful weekend. Wonderful. Simply.

Something's happening here

I do not know if it has more to do with the coming of age, or if the Lord has been working in my heart ever so subtly. I say, 'ever so subtly', because after all, He is my creator, and knows all to well how I respond to overt calls to order. A bit of digging in of my heels, flipping my hair in defiance, and anxiety to the extreme. Yes, a grown up version of the temper tantrum.

Lately I have found or more accurately, sensed, a calmness within my heart that was not and is not a natural part of my demeanor. I tend to be a bit more intense. A bit of an over-thinker. Slightly obsessive-compulsive. Moderately strong-willed. And possibly a bit passionate.

About everything.

It has been my standard operating procedure to speak my thoughts about everything. And assume that I am entirely entitled to do so and furthermore, not really think to deeply about how I may be coming across to someone else. Certainly, I have never wanted to, or intended to offend. Honestly. I have these passionate thoughts, feelings, and opinions, and I have always just felt compelled to share them. Not considering the effect, always, on others.

Believe it or not, I have felt a calming. A quietness. A gentle hand on my shoulder telling me that I do not have to have a voiced opinion about everything. Now, some of you who know me well, might be shaking your heads and thinking..."Who is she trying to kid?" I give you that. I am and forever will be, a work in progress. I am not silent. I have not taken a vow of conformity. I will always have things that I speak out about.

Maybe what has changed more than anything, is my need to convince others that what I am saying matters.


I am simply content to know that it matters to me. And that is enough to bring me great joy and great peace.

Elli-icious and the Santa gang

Is this adorable or what?

Those who still believe.

Yeah, she is pretty darn Yummy.

When they say it, it makes perfect sense

One typical school morn, I was scampering around filling book bags, packing a sack lunch, searching for the infamous lost glove and trying above all to herd the pokiest little puppy in our litter towards the bathroom for teeth brushing.

But as usual, she was distracted, as Andrew would say..."a google times." After reminding her gently three or four times that time was of the essence, I finally blurted out..."Olivia Mary, I am getting angry and if you do not start moving quickly I will lose my temper!"

Walking back over to the kitchen table to clean up the milk spills and put cereal boxes away, a listening Kate said, "Mom, if you lose your temper than you couldn't be angry anymore."

Obviously I was not angry anymore. I laughed and laughed and thanked her for her amazing insight. We even shared it with dad, who chuckled and agreed, that her reasoning made perfect sense.

They are divine.

Isn't she lovely?

Aren't they beautiful?

Isn't she wonderful?

Aren't they fabulously handsome?

I sure think so.

* No Elizabeth was not intentionally left out, the big kids were all dolled up for the school program. And Elli was getting her beauty sleep.

All I want for Christmas is a new toilet seat...Say what?

My Christmas wish list is starting to look like an episode of one of the DIY network hits.

~A ceiling fan for the living room.

~A new light fixture for the dining room.

~The carpet removed from the dining room and installation of the new flooring that has been in the garage rafters for four years.

~A vacuum cleaner that has more suction power than my four-year-old with a straw.

~Removal of the blinds in my bathroom, spare bedroom, and kitchen and replacement with something a bit softer and homey-er.

~A new faucet for the bathroom sink, preferably one that does not hiss and spit.

~A new toilet seat.

~A de-jamming closet door, (I have broken three fingernails on this one!)

~Oh yeah, and a partridge for my pear tree.

Hmmm, this list is getting longer the more I think about it. Maybe I had better stop. Do you think Santa might just bring me a tool belt? Or maybe one of those nifty Handy-Manny Tool bench sets?

Elli-icious passes the 1/2 year mark!

Are you kidding me? Over half of a year passed by already? Seriously? This former baby blob (I use that term with the deepest of appreciation for those days) is now a rolling, crawling, sitting, jabbering, entertaining hunk of baby goodness?

Let me tell you something. It gets better eVeRy SiNgLe DaY. Life, I mean. And here I am, just trying to soak it all in. I think I will go kiss those cheeks now.

Learning from a four year old

"Mom, what does, 'I don't care', mean?" Andrew thoughtfully asks as he looks up from the squishing of homemade blue and white play dough through his fingers.

Stopping mid-fold with a towel in the laundry basket in front of me, a bit taken aback, I ask..."What?"

"What does 'I don't care' mean?" he repeats.

Not knowing exactly how to answer his inquiry due to the context that he might be referring to, I pursue his thought process.

"Give me an example of when you heard someone say that."

"You say it. When I ask to do something. You say, 'I don't care.' And I don't know what that means."

Devastated. Humbled. Sad. I walk over to him and wrap my arms around him as he looks very perplexed by this sudden show of emotion from his mama. After all, it was just a question!

It means that your mama needs to think before she speaks. It means that I am making time for other things instead of your questions. It means that I do not feel like responding definitively and instead am being passive. It means that when I really care a great deal I am giving the impression that I care very little.

No, I do not overwhelm his little head with all of this. I save my revelation for my own thoughts. Instead I hug him, tell him that it really isn't an answer to anything. And that if mama says it again, tell her that it is NOT an answer. Yes and No. And above all, I DO care.

Forty-five years...now that's an accomplishment

Do you know what I admire most about them? The time they spend together.

~She may love to shop. While he'd rather take in a farm show.

~He may like to drive through a John Deere Implement to browse. While she'd rather window shop for a diamond.

~She may like to relax with a game of golf. While he'd rather watch a NASCAR race on television.

~He may like to take a ride in the combine. While she'd rather take a ride on her horse.

And while they may have different tastes from time to time, and different opinions now and again, and different ways of expressing themselves about this and that....there is one thing that they agree on each and every time. They would rather be together than with anyone else.

Maybe that is not what they set out thinking every morning they awake. Maybe they have not made that their marriage mantra. Maybe words of affection are not spewing constantly from their lips. But their actions have shown us, their grateful children, that time and time again.

I can not think of a better example of love than that.

In their 45 years together, I imagine that there has been much joy. I also imagine that there has been much sorrow. Their marriage has survived, nay flourished, for more years than some can piece together three marriages. I believe that they would be the first to say that every day has not been sunshine and roses. In fact, marrying into this family, I have seen that many days are a struggle. But above all of it, the noise, the chaos, the unpredictability's, one thing is always the same. The love that my father-in-law shares with my mother-in-law.

It is a love that is not present because of some cosmic aligning of the perfect personalities. It is a love that is present because of a lot of small decisions, each and every day. Decisions to be together, not apart. Decisions to pursue common interests and leave the selfish ones behind. Decisions to enjoy each other in every environment instead of choosing environments over each other.

Decisions to laugh. Decisions to hold. Decisions to love. And above all, decisions to DaNcE.

Happy Anniversary to two people who make what they do look like so much fun. We love you very much!

Black Friday Shopping

Um, no thank you. I experienced that thrill last year.


Unless grabbing Subway for dinner counts as BF shopping? Please share your finds! I would love to celebrate someone else's success.

I am so very thankful for these people

Happy Thanksgiving from our Family to Yours!

Nicholas David turns nine

Birthday's around here are much cause for celebration. We love us some birthday fun!

But there is something a bit undefinable that happens in this mama's heart when it is her firstborn's birthday. No, his birthday is not more important, less important or anything in between, when compared to that of his siblings. But the emotion is a bit different.

He is my first born. The boy who changed my life entirely. My husband changed my name. My son changed my heart.

From the moment he arrived, squalling and bawling at every opportunity given, I knew that every decision I made would be forever wrapped around the tiniest of fingers and needs. I would no longer base my opinions and desires on what was best for me, but what was best for him...and those that would follow.

I became that mama bear. Fighting to protect her cubs from all that would seek to harm them. I did not realize as a young and very naive mother...just how much fought for their soul.

Nicholas is passionate and intense. I have used those words since his birth. Some may say I am optimistic and could use something a bit more specific. But it is truth. He attacks everything with intense passion. And when he fails, or more accurately does not perfect it, it is a tragedy in his mind. He wants the best from himself and would really like to see it in others as well. A trait, that while troubling at times, will serve to take him to the places of his dreams. He loves deeply. No brother cares more for his siblings than Nicholas. He and only he, has the right to torment, annoy, tease or bully them. Anyone else attempt it...there will be trouble.

His dad and I know that he has the potential to change his world. Just as each of our children do. We only pray that Nic also realizes his potential and trusts God enough to put his life into the hands of the One who gave it to him. While we have our own hopes and desires for him, they are only wishes. We know that God and only God knows what is best for him. And while we wait, we pray.

Parenting Nicholas has been the greatest challenge of my life. Honestly. It is a tough road many days. But as I mature, I realize that the bumps in the road have come due to my inexperience...not his. He is a priceless gem. A gift of great worth. A treasure. And I am honored to call him my son.

Happy 9th Birthday to my first born. I love you Nicholas David!

My people are so cool

Thanksgiving is next week. NEXT WEEK people. Sorry. I am not cyber yelling at you. I am just fighting off a panic attack. You see, I am hosting Thanksgiving this year. Not a big deal. Right? Well there is one small problem. My head. My head is always the problem.

In my head is a picture of a Martha Stewart-y table, where sits a Rachel Ray-ish basted turkey, and the caramel pecan cheesecake looks more like a work of art than a dessert. The people, dressed in pencil skirts and tweed jackets, are sipping from wine glasses while quietly conversing with the person next to them. In this picture I am hovering about in a fabulous skirt and heels while graciously receiving compliments on the divine food and decorations.

My reality is a bit different. Dinner served in a cramped dining room with barely enough room for the guests much less a three tiered centerpiece. The guests will hopefully be eating a turkey that is slightly more appetizing than that of the Griswold's, and the pies will be made, if I am feeling brave, in my own oven and not that of Perkin's.

The people in my reality, however, will not mind that they are sitting elbow to elbow with a child. In fact, it is probably one of the reasons that they accepted the invitation. They will engage in a raucous discussion from one room to another and will gladly participate in our sung prayer and game of thankfulness. They will appreciate the comfy attire later in the day as they lounge about on couches watching an NFL game.

Of course, I will serve wine. But a good cold beer sounds better to me.

No, we aren't expecting company

Was it practical? No, not really.

Was it risky? Yes, definitely.

But seeing the faces of my kids when I called them into a candle lit dinner, with 'grown up' wine glasses containing grape juice, fancy plates and silverware and special dessert dishes was worth every bit of impracticality and possible danger.

No one knocked over the stemware, no one lit their napkin on fire, no one complained about the peas, carrots and broccoli mixed into their favorite Chicken Alfredo meal. Obviously they were too distracted by the wine glasses and flickering candles.

It was worth it. Not because they left the table understanding on an even deeper level how valuable they are, but because I left the table remembering how important it is to show them.

Extremly extreme.

I tend to be extreme in many areas of my life.

Yet another personal discovery I am making in my 30's. Aren't you glad that you come along with me through these epiphanies?

And in the interest of bettering myself in every way possible, I am trying to learn from these discoveries as opposed to just accepting them as unchangeable.

Extremism is not necessarily bad. I am extremely devoted to my Creator. I am extremely devoted to my faith. I am extremely in love with my husband. I am extremely proud of my children.

But typically being extreme is a bit of a problem. It can be the extreme over-doing something, or the extreme under-doing of it. And I fall into both categories.

Being mindful of the foods that I eat, good. Extreme dieting? Not so much. Trying to work exercise into my daily routine, good. Scheduling my day around exercise? Not so much. Expanding my mind through reading, good. Unable to put the book down until finished? Not so much. Wiping down my kitchen, using the 'sanitize' function of my dishwasher, washing hands regularly, good. Stressing over every germ that crawls into my home? Not so much. Enjoying time with my kids, good. Making that an excuse not to clean and organize our lives? Not so much. Allowing my kids to become individuals, good. Letting them run amuck without discipline? Not so much.

I think that you get it, right?

Moderation.
Acceptance.
Change.
Growth.

It's a journey. And I think I might finally be mature enough to take it.

It's a party

We recently celebrated Andrew's birthday with a family party on the day of, and a BIG family/friend party on the Saturday following his birthday...which just so happened to be his daddy's birthday too.

All the sibs getting ready to eat some birthday brownies.

"You look like a monkey, and you live in the zoo!"

Just what every kids wants, a squooshie ball!

At the big party. CHEESE!

Reading the cards before ripping into the goods.

Saying "thank yous!"

Feeling a tad shy when we all sang "Happy Birthday" to the the two birthday boys.

Even though Chad did not feel well, he was a trooper! Here he is with his mama.

All the kiddos. There were lots of adults too! Everyone loves to celebrate Big D.

The bright side

A cold summer really stinks.

But September in November is pretty awesome.



**(Does anyone know how to spell check in the newer version of blogger posting?)

Love makes that diamond shine

I am without something this week. 
I do not take my engagement/wedding rings off.  Ever.  When I was ridiculously chubby with pregnancies I wore them until the 11th hour and then if I could get them off, I did so because of the pain they caused in being so tight.  But as soon as the pudgy fingers shrunk back down, I slipped the rings on and there they remained.  They are not an accessory for me but more a feature of my being.  Kind of like the freckles on my nose and cheeks, or the curl in my hair. 

But I do not always take such good care of them.  Heck my freckles at least get moisturized and my curls get de-frizzed.  But I had not taken care of my rings, in any manner, for pretty much the eleven years that I have worn them.  So, I decided that they needed a little bit of maintenance.  The flat underside was really annoying me and the shine had long since diminished.

I took them in to the little family owned jewelry shop and asked how much a quick buff and cleaning would be and was shocked when I was told that it was free.  Free?  Are you kidding me?  Free?  Nothing is free anymore.  Why hadn't I been doing this more often?  A little stop into a hometown downtown shop, a little buff--a little rub and wha-lah, good as new.

"Did you know that two of your prongs are gone completely and the other four are worn down to nothing?"  the lovely woman asked me.  "What?"  Of course I did not know that.  My precious diamond could have fallen out at any time.  "We'll need to fix these right away.  All six prongs will need to be replaced."  "How much will that cost?"  I asked.  "That my dear, is not free."  Of course not.

As I walked out of the shop I could not help but notice that the sun had nothing to reflect on, as my left hand ring finger was bare.  If only I had taken the time to care for it over these past 11 years, I thought to myself, I would not be shelling out the dough now. 

As I drove home I was reminded by the Lord that my rings are a symbol of my marriage commitment.  How much care have I been giving that?  How much maintenance has been done in the past eleven years?  Are there flat spots, scratches, and polishing that needs to be done?

Even though my rings mean a great deal to me, the man who gave them to me means far more.  I guess it is time to take a little bit better care of both.

Noah's on television

Noah is the adorable boy with the big grin and beautiful brown eyes, wearing the green polka dotted cape.

The Golden Boy celebrates his Golden Birthday

"The Natural". That is what my husband lovingly refers to our youngest son as, The Natural.

He is a natural joy.

A natural pleaser.

A natural charmer.

A natural lover.

A natural engager.

A natural learner.

A natural talker.

A natural thinker.

A natural athlete.

A natural obeyer.

A natural laugher.

On and on I could go. Those of you whom have had the pleasure of meeting Andrew, I believe, would indeed call it a pleasure. He is just like-able.

I know, I know...we would all like to believe this about each of our children. Having five of them however, I know the reality. They each have strengths and they each have weaknesses. And each offers unique blessings to our home.

Andrew indeed is a blessing. He compliments this family in a way that makes each of us shine brighter, love deeper and give more of ourselves to one another. And we are truly blessed.

Today he celebrates his golden birthday. Turning four on the fourth. And while he looks the part of a four year old, it is often difficult to wrap my brain around the fact that this intelligent, articulate, charming child is just four. He is wise beyond his years. I pray that it is the wisdom of God and that he will channel that wisdom and seek it all the days of his life.

If you see Andrew out and about, go ahead, smile at him. You will not be able to stop yourself anyway. And if you want to give him a little squeeze, he probably won't even mind that!

Happy birthday big D. We love you oh, so much!

Halloween Pic '09

I kind of dropped the ball on the whole Halloween costume thing this year. We had good ideas, but I just did not get around to preparing as I should have. Still, we managed to pull a few cuties out of the hat.

Olivia and Kate knew that they wanted to be Mary and Laura Ingalls. So we did our best, with the help of a grandma, who has old stuff like this lying about! And the boys, well, Nic is already to the age where this is losing appeal quickly. Especially given that he is not a candy lover, so there is little motivation there. Andrew considers every day Halloween-ish, because he costumes up regularly and gets candy pretty much whenever he asks. Anyway, here they are. And Elizabeth went along bundled up in warm, practical clothing with a little bonnet on her head...so that she could be baby Carrie Ingalls.