You'll need stitches.
God doesn't give four boys to just ANY mom.
I just need to know when to contain my super-human strength.
My entire brood of men (including my beloved) joined forces to gang up on me tonight and pin me down, except one of my freakishly strong legs broke free and pushed one of my small men into the corner of a dresser.
Quite a headache.
And a lesson - I hope, for all of us.
our one lame attempt their dad's best efforts, they have not experienced reeling in a fighter.
Thank God for friends. Our friend David has his dad's fishing boat for the summer and offered to use one of his few days off of his orthopedic residency to take Kenyon and the older boys for a day of fishing.
David picked up my three sleepy men at 4:30 in the morning and they spent the day on a beautiful reservoir about an hour away.
They had a great day and caught a bunch of HUGE fish. That night we had their entire family come up for a fish feast and lots of fun.
Thank goodness that David's wife Darcy had a good recipe because I stink at cooking fish.
Here's an early morning catch:
The boys had a little too much fun driving the boat, if you ask me. In fact, The Hunter looked at my beloved while driving and said, "Dad, this is the life!"
It sure is buddy, you have no idea.
When they got back to our house, our little stream came in handy because they just took all the fish down and cleaned them in the freezing cold water.
On opening day of bow season... on his 35th birthday...
And with his eight year old hunting buddy...
Happy Birthday my beloved!
Are we really hitting 35?
Weren't we 22 years old and newlyweds just, like, yesterday?
Amidst all the chaos we have going on in our lives right now, I'm stopping to appreciate the man you are on your 35th birthday.
You are an amazing man and you never cease to impress me.
Even now as I write this, you are out in the woods with Hunter trying to fill your deer tag and build a better relationship with our boy.
You are such a great example of a man to our boys. Although no human is perfect, I feel you are a perfect example to them for so many reasons.
You are such a hard worker at anything you do, whether employment, chore, relationship, or hobby.
I love that our boys see you take the responsibility of providing for our family seriously. They know that just as you work hard, you also play hard and they get so excited when you pull in the driveway.
I was so proud to watch you walk across the stage as you graduated with your MBA in May. After all the nights and weekends you invested in getting through school, it was a great example of sticking with something until you complete it - even when it is hard.
You hold yourself to such a high standard, even in relationships. You are always looking to help our marriage grow, to love me more, and to grow closer to our four boys.
I love that you are constantly keeping yourself in check to make sure your priorities are holding true. I have so much respect for your honesty and vulnerability in life. I rarely get to apologize first after a disagreement, and in the moment I hate that, but it is really a quality that I want to adopt in my own life.
Again, what a great example you are to our boys that you consistently apologize to them when you are wrong. You are showing them that no one does life perfectly, and it is o.k. to make mistakes. They trust that their dad cares for their hearts and will work to make your relationship right in the end.
Thank you for being The Man that leads my world of men.
Happy Birthday.
I can't even count the number of conversations I have had with people about home schooling.
The comments are usually along the lines of, "I could never home school, I don't have enough patience." Or maybe something a little more flattering like, "You are a better woman than I am, I can't wait for my kids to go to school in the morning."
Believe me, there is very little about home schooling that is easy for me. Ask those in my inner circle about my natural patience level or my desire for time to myself.
I'm as impatient and selfish as anyone else.
I've told the story many times about how we decided to try home schooling.
From before the time we had our first son, we always seemed to be surrounded by families that home schooled. I balked at it, saying all the things that people say to me now.
Only I didn't know the full measure of love that I would have for my
own children.
These families had children who were a joy to be around. They enjoyed their families, were good friends to other kids and related well to both adults and younger children.
In short, we considered them to be a blessing to those around them and we both said we would like our future children to be like them.
Still, and I will quote myself here, I said to those very friends, "God would have to do a huge work in me to ever get me to home school."
Be careful what you say about God.
Fast forward to two sons, one of which is at preschool age. We had worked very hard to train our boys to have good manners, be respectful, and act appropriately in public.
Although far from perfect, I felt that we were starting to see the fruit of
our labor.
Then my eldest son, at a mere four years old started to be characterized by finding the "naughty kid" in every crowd and idolizing him. He put that misbehaving boy on a mental pedestal and followed him off any cliff of mischief that he was led to.
It was a frustrating time and we really felt like it was an area he needed guidance and time to mature in. We discussed the possibility of home schooling and decided that it would be easier to try it first and then put him in school later rather than the other way around.
So, I guess I would say that character training was our main motive.
Little did I know there was so much more waiting for us.
Check back for part two of this story.
And may I make a disclaimer here? I am not AT ALL saying that only home school kids are well behaved and a joy to be around. There are plenty of public school children that we enjoy friendships with. I am recounting our experience with our children, not claiming a general rule of thumb.
I was so pleased to find out that I don't need to buy napkins anymore.
This is what I get when I actually get down on my hands and knees to clean the kitchen floor.
And look up to see the underside of the breakfast bar.
Just another thing I NEVER thought about before having kids.
OK, I never thought about it until this exact moment!
I am sitting here at seven a.m. with my cup of tea and my L.O.N.G. list of things I need to get done. You know that kind of list, the one that feels nearly impossible to complete amidst all the normal responsibilities of the day.
Unpack, do the laundry, grocery shop, pay bills, return phone calls, find the missing overdue library books all sound like simple tasks until you have meals to make and clean up and those kids who actually want me to interact with them. The nerve!
But, a blog post about our vacation is one of those list items that I don't want to ignore.
We just returned from a ten day vacation and reunion with my parents and siblings. One week was spent at my dad's little slice of heaven of a beach house on Lake Michigan in the very southwest corner of Michigan.
He and my step-mom graciously gifted us a week at their home that is rental property the rest of the summer. What a gift, it was exactly what we needed to de-stress us from our normal busy schedules.
It's hard to live so far from family. We are the only ones on both sides of our families that live out west and it takes major effort, time, and money to spend time together.
Thankfully, this year we were able to overcome the obstacles and come together with all the parents, siblings, and cousins to spend a week soaking in the sun and sand.
We were so content to just "be" at the beach house. We had lazy mornings and gradually made our way down to the private beach, where we would spend the rest of our day until someone noticed that it was getting close to dinner time.
We rotated who cooked dinner for everyone and it worked out great.
My sister Amy, brother Jeff, and I (and our families) got along famously and cherished our time together. We literally didn't leave the beach house for five days until finally some of the guys went to play par three golf.
On day seven we went out for ice cream. Those were our major outings.
As an added bonus, my two BFF's from college live in the region and each came to the beach for an afternoon to catch up on some girl time.
When our week was up at the beach, we went back to my sister's house in the Chicago suburbs and spent a couple of extra days seeing the sights that the boys had never seen.
The highlight was a train ride into downtown Chicago for a tour of Millennium Park and a day at the Field Museum of Natural History.
Sorting through pictures was a nightmare. There are too many! I put together a little slide show to give a taste, but had to leave so many good pictures out!
I'm thinking about changing Hunter's blog name to "Go-Go Gadget."
I should have seen it coming. This boy has enjoyed building and construction from before he could talk.
This bandana was made into every head covering he could think of as well as a knapsack, fishing lure, flag, and I can't even remember the many other things he created with this thing that anyone else would call trash.
For a few years now I have called him my "Dumpster Diver" because he is constantly taking trash from my recycling bins and confiscating items that I have deemed garbage.
Example? Sure, I'm glad you asked. I present to you Exhibit A:
This is a scuba tank. A grocery bag, a salsa container and a piece of plastic that I have no idea where it came from is all you need to carry your breathing air on your back.
His plan was to connect a foam pool noodle to the top of the salsa container and wrap it around to his mouth to breathe the air.
Watch out OxyClean, ShamWOW, The Clapper, and the iPhone - my boy is growing up!
Knowing that the summer is more than half over, I sure wish I would have initiated this activity when the snow first started melting.
Has anyone ever heard of Letterboxing?
Well, we have just discovered it this week and I think we are standing on the precipice of addiction.
According to the official website, "Letterboxing is an intriguing pastime combining navigational skills and rubber stamp artistry in a charming "treasure hunt" style outdoor quest."
We follow clues to a hidden box (there are over 5000 in the U.S. right now). Inside the box is a journal and a stamp.
We stamp the journal with our personal stamps and mark the date. Then, we stamp our personal journal with the stamp in the letterbox.
We do all of this very discreetly and hide the box back where we found it.
So much fun.
Today we found two letterboxes in our town alone (there are hundreds within a reasonable distance of our home).
One was at our public library. A hollowed out book that masqueraded as a real library book. We're pretty sure that the library doesn't know it is hiding on the shelf. The clue helped us find it and we took it to the back corner of the library to see our treasure.
At one point, I asked Hunter why it didn't look like he was having any fun. He replied, "I am having a blast Mom, but I don't want anyone to be suspicious."
Our stamps: An "L" for me, a frog for Sauce, and a bow and arrow for Hunter. We carved them ourselves out of erasers just this morning.
Our next box was found outside. The boys were thrilled.
We added Rufus's stamp to this one "PC" for our little ski town.
We're heading to a week on Lake Michigan in a couple of days. Needless to say, we're bringing our stamps because we're sure there are some letterbox adventures to add to our vacation!
I just finished cleaning up tonight's dinner and am sitting here quietly in my living room with a glass of wine (ok, my second glass of wine), listening to the dishwasher hum.
Squirt is in bed with his binky and bear, because he just couldn't make it another minute.
Hubby has Hunter, Sauce, and Rufus playing four holes of evening golf on the municipal golf course that runs through our neighborhood.
I have been thinking for the last little while about the literal meaning of loving thy neighbor. I know that Jesus meant so much more when it came from his mouth, but we have a neighbor that we simply love.
And it is a very unlikely match.
We have virtually nothing in common except our address.
She has no fear of conflict (very unlike me) and one would be best served by never getting on her "you know what" list. Because she says what is on her mind and really means what she says. So watch out.
But I really love her.
When we moved into this house, we bought it from a very elderly couple who built this house 30 years ago as empty nesters. They kept to themselves and weren't social with the neighbors.
Then the woman surrounded by men moves in.
Miss Roots didn't even attempt to meet us for the first six months that we lived here. She came and went, 20 feet from our garage and didn't even wave.
Then, early one snowy morning, Hubby was out snowblowing the driveway in his winter coat boots and pajama bottoms, and Miss Roots is out there doing the same thing to her driveway in the same outfit.
"Allright," she said gruffly, "You can stay."
From that point on, we were o.k. in her book.
Maybe it was the fact that we clear our own driveway like she does rather than hiring a service. Maybe it was the pajama bottoms, or maybe she had decided that our boys wouldn't be as much as a pain as she thought they would be.
Miss Roots occasionally comes over for a cold beer at the end of the day. She beckons my hubby for help when she can't carry something heavy or needs help starting her lawnmower or snowblower.
Often at dinnertime in the summer, she walks through our sliding glass door in our kitchen, sits down at the breakfast bar and just chats with me while I make dinner.
She loves to make fun of my white trash meals that I often call dinner. But, many moons ago, she was a professional chef, so I don't feel my normal insecurity, because I know of her talents.
And, well, my men must eat something.
Then occasionally, when she doesn't have a better offer, she accepts my invitation to stay for dinner. Like she did tonight.
There are SO many people in my life that I struggle to really love. How many sermons have I heard about clothing ourselves with the love of Christ to love the ones that are hard to love? Many.
I feel like I have been given a gift because there is no reason why love should come so easily.
But it does. And I'm grateful for my neighbor.
We pack our minivan until it is ready to burst with sleeping bags, coolers full of food, bug spray, fishing poles, cooking utensils, pillows, a few clothes, sunscreen, and a tent to house the six of us for the weekend.
Oh, and the six of us. And our dog.
We drive less than an hour into the wilderness and unload our deep woods essentials.
We endure rain, wind, and cold unpredictable weather.
We cart our food out of the car for meal times, and back in the car to prevent the bears from eating us attracting bears.
We sleep on the ground, or close to it.
We pee poop go potty in a hole in the ground.
I cook over a campfire for two to three meals a day.
Each evening we cart our trash to the bear-proof dumpsters.
Each night we lay down amongst the chatting, laughing, poking, and, "Mom I don't want to go to sleep!" We try to drift off as quickly as possible because we know that morning will come soon.
We listen to the pre-dawn birds.
Did I mention that we go without showers and washing in general?
BUT boy, do we make some memories.
Like eating hot dogs covered in dirt for dinner and having to borrow ketchup and mustard from other campers because Mom forgot them.
Like s'mores, and s'mores, and s'mores.
Like Daddy making up songs at bedtime with lyrics that make all of us giggle and laugh and join in the silliness.
Like hiking up to secret ponds at 11,000 feet elevation and watching our boys frolic in the water, throw rocks, and slide down the remaining snow pack.
Donuts, real bacon, and fried eggs for breakfast. Oh, and coffee never tasted better when you're short on sleep.
Last year at Shady Dell we had a fabulous farewell to our pop up camper. Great weekend, but it was clearly time to sell the money pit.
Then we borrowed a tent and camped with the Swishers, but thought we hated tent camping because we were so crowded. This year we bought an eight person tent so there is room for us to grow and stretch out.
It is great to get away from chores, computers, cell phones, and everyday life and just have us.
Together.
The boys love to climb.
Can you see the boy in the pond?
Why do I have this amazing shoe collection and organization system? Not pretty, but everyone has a bin and there is plenty of space for boots and overflow.
All tucked into a closet.
Why do I find this EVERY time I walk in the door?
That's it. They're all going barefoot.
Just to give you proof of number four:
I speak truth.
Hmmm, it's quiet in here. Where is that Squirt?
Mary at Owlhaven posted this one, so I thought I would tag along.
For Today…
Outside my window… a wonderful roaring stream
I am thinking… that it is a constant struggle to put my family's wants before my own
I am watching… a mule deer hunting show on the outdoor channel because summer TV stinks and hubby needs to clear out the DVR
I am thankful for… living in a beautiful place with my men who all adore me
From the kitchen… not much - I need to get more serious about my meal planning.
I am wearing… tan shorts, cute, $10 brown top from Costco and of course, a fleece (evening chill has set in)
I am reading… Luke's Story
I am praying… for others mostly. For healing and protection.
I am creating… a crocheted baby blanket (as always) that I have no idea who it will go to
I am looking forward to… camping this weekend, then beach with my family in late July
A picture for today... my shiny forehead me, my mom, my 87 year old grandpa, my sister and my cutie pie niece all smiling just to be together again after my sweet grandmother's memorial service a couple of weeks ago.
A lot changes in two years. This:
Turns into this:
And this:
Turns into this:
Our little Squirt is two today. He has been such a joyful and perfect addition to our family. This boy has made it hard for me to say, "That's it. I'm done."
He has smiles, hugs, and kisses that I can never get enough of.
He is enthusiastic and funny.
He has always been a good eater.
He never cries for me to come and get him out of his crib, but just plays happily until a brother I get around to getting him up.
He adores his brothers.
But he loves his mommy MOST of all (ask any one who babysits for me).
I fear for my grocery bill in a few years, because this boy can out-eat all of his brothers combined any one of his big brothers.
This boy has a very special place in my heart for a few of reasons. In addition to the fact that he was by far my best birth experience, when he was born, I knew it was quite possible likely that he would be my last baby and I have been cherishing each stage of babyhood.
Also, I learned a hard lesson last November when I briefly thought I might have to live without him. Major's accident has never been far from our minds during these eight months.
Through grieving with our friends for the loss of their son, we have a new and lasting appreciation for how each day, each moment is sacred.
Squirt, you make me smile and laugh every day. You warm my heart when I look at you and my life is richer because of you.
Happy Birthday!
