The Joys of Technology

     This weekend was momentous...my hubby set up the entertainment center, and we are able to watch movies again. Part of me is happy about this, and part of me just wants to say goodbye to our TV forever. It was so nice to see the girls playing creatively, and not asking to see a movie every day. I hate being the stick in the mud, but that's kind of my job as a mom. I do have to admit that it was really nice to throw in a movie for my youngest this morning when she woke up before I ran, so I could still have some alone time running in peace.
     I do think there is a balance in everything; and at different points in motherhood, it has looked very different.  My dear sister-in-law assured me that it was just a season in life to get through when my two oldest were under four, and to not  feel guilty about them watching a small amount of TV everyday in order to keep my sanity.  She was right. They soon became more interested in playing with each other than watching "Blues Clues". We had lots of weeks where we barely turned on the TV. Last year we went through the adjustment of homeschooling,  and I admit that I occasionally threw in a Wiggles movie when my youngest skipped her nap (and we needed to do something cerebral like math).
     Now that I know what they are capable of, I'm sure that I will once again feel a little more confident in setting a tighter boundaries in their movie watching time (we still have no satellite dish or internet for our computer-my hubby thinks it's a bit silly that I blog on my phone, but I think it's great).
     Times change. Even though I strongly resisted getting a smart phone, I'm glad I finally switched to one a couple of weeks before moving. I'm beginning to find my own balance with it as well...and it hasn't dominated me as much as I had feared. I'm still trying to figure out how to access one of my e-mail accounts, and I hate that I don't know how to edit my facebook comments. I'm slowly coming to terms with having some typos in them, and not cringing too much. When I try to edit them, I accidentally hit the button to post it, and I don't know how to take it back.
     I remember feeling like an oddball as a kid because there were lots of shows we couldn't watch, and we took summers off from TV. As a parent, I can finally appreciate this because I know it helped me develop a real love for  reading, and helped me to spend more time with my pets. I've repeatedly told my kids that I don't think watching TV or movies is bad (especially when you are selective about what you watch)...it's bad to miss out on the things that you could be doing instead (which is why they don't get to veg for hours in front of the TV ignoring me or their siblings).  Balance, right?  No freaks...just well-rounded kids is what I'm aiming for.

The Song Remembers When

     I thought I was a patient person until I became a mother. My children have challenged my patience like nothing else. 
     This last week I was reminded of  something that really helps me: music. I was feeling really discouraged by all the boxes I needed to unpack when my 4 year old turned on some music for me. It was amazing how I instantly felt lighter and happier, and I had a better attitude. I felt like I got a lot more accomplished in the next half an hour than I had for the previous 2 hours, and with a spring in my step.
     It reminded me of my secret to showing our house for 6 months. When we would prepare to leave the house for a showing, I was tempted to get angry, discouraged by what still needed to be done and start yelling at my kids. I use to sing a song from church over and over out loud to help keep me from yelling at the kids. My kids were always so helpful. There wasn't any reason to be upset with them...it was the the routine of simply getting four kids out the door plus our dog by a specific time that was so hard, and trying to leave the house dish-free, laundry-free, and odor free.
     Music is so helpful that this past week when we were informed of some potential setbacks to closing on our house (besides praying about it), the first thing I did was to turn on a Lincoln Brewster cd and start singing my heart out. Everything appears to be straightening out in that regard, and our final hurdle of the bank appraisal is scheduled for Monday. I could have wasted time worrying over it, or even worse, yelled at the kids about something little because of the stress I felt.
     This past week I also felt encouraged when we were obviously late for a doctors appointment, and God helped me bite my tongue and not snap at the kids. It ended up working out just fine, and we had a wonderful day together...but it could have easily gone south if I'd set the tone for the day with a little sarcasm which I had sometimes do when I'm frustrated.
      Recently our pastor talked about looking for little victories, and I guess that's why I'm sharing this with you. Little victories can add up to big change over time. My patience and self- control of my tongue are a constant area that I need to grow in...I'm still figuring out the whole "be angry, and sin not." I find myself apologizing a lot.
     The next time you feel discouraged, I challenge you to turn on the radio or a cd you love. Crank it up!
     What have you been struggling with lately that you seen a victory in? I'd love for you to leave them in the comments below, and I'd love to pray with you about them if you are still struggling like me.

Home birth

     For those of you who know me, "adventure girl" is a bit ironic for my profile name. Actually "open to adventure" girl is probably a little closer to the truth. I have been known mostly as "safety girl" though. My hubby laughed when he found out that I made all the kids buckle up in their car seats when we delivered a meal in the rain to a next door neighbor that lived maybe a hundred feet away from us. That's just who I am. I'm not a big risk taker.
     You may be wondering what my next adventure will be...well, a home birth might just be it. Our new home has a lovely hot tub already installed in the master bathroom, so that could very well be the site for our next  birth. I don't know if my husband realizes it or not, but he was actually the inspiration behind this. As we sat in the hospital last time after our baby was born only to have person after person come through our door while we were "resting", he said, "Now I know why people have home births." It is the longing for peace and quiet that drives my desire for a home birth. That and the fact that I was only at the hospital for 26 minutes before we delivered our last child. I loved laboring at home.
     This past week when I visited with a home birth midwife, it was confirmed in my heart that this is really what I want. This weekend  we filled out the paperwork. I'm so thankful that when I talked to my husband about it, he didn't even flinch when I mentioned the price. He just said, "If this is what you really want, let's do this." Can you say supportive?
     For those of you out there who are  little concerned, let me say that the hospital is only 13 minutes away. Also home birth midwives come equipped with oxygen,  medication, and even IV fluids for emergencies. For a low risk pregnancy, it's not even that big of a deal. Maybe I am still trying to claim my title of "safety girl", but honestly, this is a little out of my comfort zone.    
     When I felt my little one kick me today for the first time, I knew I would love to have my children wake up this February only to find their newest siblings just a room away.

Blessings counted

     Today as I was swimming just down the road from where we live, I was overwhelmed with gratitude for all God's blessings. Our friends graciously allow us to swim anytime we want, and that alone blows me away besides their kindness in other ways. I'm so thankful for that generosity...it's like living down the road from a spiritual set of parents.
     We also now live just down the hill from a spiritual sister as well. Remember when we were without water? We had one emergency set of sheets that we needed washed (because of an accident my little one had), and she graciously allowed us to wash our sheets, and called me when they were dry.
     Then there were all my dear friends and neighbors that brought us meals on just the right day at just the right time. God has really blessed us in the past couple of weeks despite a few discouragements.
      Last, but certainly not least of all...drum roll, please...my hubby is no longer commuting three hours a day as of this week! This is two months sooner than we expected.  It has been so wonderful for the girls and I to listen to him read "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" out loud every night since our TV is still packed away, and we are in no hurry to get it out. It is a great thing to have our evenings back as a family!
     "Oh how grateful and thankful I am to the Lord because He is so good. I will sing praise to the name of the Lord who is above all lords. " Psalm 7:17 (the Living Bible)

Strongholds

     In light of my recent feelings and anger about losing my pet, I was reminded again of what God has been changing in my life. Just a few years ago, I would have never shared the story about our pet dog killing my pet cat...probably for two reasons. For one, I would have feared what people would have thought about reading it. Secondly, deep down I struggle with feeling ashamed over it, and feeling responsible for the tragedy.  I used to hide many secrets, specifically things that made me look bad. This is a stronghold or area of weakness in my life that Satan really tortured me over. The typical lie he'd try to feed me was, "If people knew the real you and all the things you've done, they'd never even give you the time of day." Lying or hiding things became a regular part if who I was. This really kept me feeling anxious, and pathetic for years. This was not God's plan for me; but in sowing seeds of dishonesty, this is the reality I had created for myself.  God broke this stronghold nearly four years ago when I went through something called "Great Banquet ". He began by gently prodding me to confess a lie to my hubby; and in the next year, I had multiple people that I came clean with.  I actually plan on sharing with you one of my biggest "skeletons in the closet " sometime in the next month.
     When Giselle was killed, one of the first things I did was share the sorrow I had over it with the person that had given her to me. I've learned that the moment I begin to feel tempted to hide something that I need to confess it...or else it gets harder and harder to come clean. I think my hubby probably used to dread all the times that I'd start a conversation with, " I need to tell you something". What I have found is that his love has been greater than any mistake I've made.  I thank God that he gave me that kind of spouse!
     That brings me to another stronghold in my life, and this one is a work in progress. I really struggle with unforgiveness, and the bitterness that goes with it. As Christians, we are commanded to forgive; and as many people have pointed out,  it is really for our own good. Our anger only hurts ourself,  and it can even effect us physically. I believe it was Joyce Meyer that once said depression is really anger turned inward. I'm happy to tell you that looking at Harley no longer fills me with anger. He is a sweet dog,  and I do love him very much despite what he did. I also have to say that our remaining kittens are in our outbuilding permanently separated from him. The people I love the most, I find I have the hardest time forgiving.  That means my hubby is at the top of my list, followed by my girls. God has really been working on me in this area, and I wish I could say that this is now as simple for me as it is to be honest...but in reality, it is still something that I'm growing in. It takes a constant focus on saying, even out loud, "I forgive you". Sometimes I'm even angry over unintentional things.  Pretty pathetic, huh? It just goes to show that I'm still in desperate need of my Savior's transformation into His likeness. Hopefully, in a few years, I will be able to say that it's easy. What about you? What do you struggle with? Why not confide in a friend, or simply go to God and ask for wisdom in this area? You are welcome to share anonymously in the comments below, but I know sometimes even that is too scary in the beginning. Jill Savage has a new book coming out in February called "No More Perfect Moms", and I can't wait to read it because I definitely qualify.

Scouring the Heart

     This week has brought a lot of challenges, but also so much joy! It has been so easy to see the silver lining of gratitude despite the storm clouds of life. The past 20 hours has brought an even greater challenge: death and forgiveness. For those of you who are not animal lovers, you may not understand this; and for those that have recently lost a family member or friend, you may find this trite. Trust me when I say that I've had a good share of death in my life both human, and animal: I've watched my father die from cancer. I 've lost two babies from miscarriages. I went to the funeral of my best friend on my 7th birthday. I've even lost both grandparents- just to name a few. Please don't think that I'm trivializing your suffering because of the grief I express over the loss of a pet.     However, this is truly how I feel at this moment.  It is hard to put into words how torn up about this I feel. If tears scour the heart, consider mine clean. I keep thinking that I really don't have any more tears left, and another wave of sadness rolls in.
     It has been a long time since I've really had a pet to call my own. Harley is our family dog, but my hubby was the driving force behind us getting him. When we talked about moving, we began by promising the girls outdoor cats if we lived in the country the way we had dreamed of. They have been dreaming of cats since a very young age, and they were overjoyed at the prospect. They both laughed and gigled at the thought of getting the ultimate birthday present. This past week my hubby picked three darling kittens slated to live outside, but that we allowed in our entryway for a few days to get them accustomed to our family. We put up a gate to keep them apart from our dog, and they stayed away from our gate because our dog was intimidating to them.  Also, my girls really only left them to go to the bathroom and to eat. They even slept with them the first night, and then last night (because it was my eight year old's birthday wish). We were given three- two for my oldest, and one for me. There is nothing like the playfulness of a kitten, and the contentedness of having one climb into your lap to take a nap. I named mine Giselle. I love that name and after having four girls, I know my hubby's feelings on the name would prevent us from ever using it. She showed the most spunk out of all the kittens, and I was sure she would be the one to teach our dog a lesson if he ever got out of line. Growing up, my brother always had a dog and I had a cat. We researched on-line how to introduce dogs to cats, as my greatest concern was how he'd handle their addition to our family. Their introductions went well, and it apparently took away their inhibitions over him enough that Giselle decided to climb over the gate to explore. Every time he came near her, she would hiss and then give a low-throated warning to stay away. She even tried a swipe or two at him, which he would dodge. She was the most sensitive, and defensive around him. Long story short, I awoke this morning to our dog barking which I found odd...but when I heard my hubby's voice down with him, I felt assured that he had the situation at hand. When my girls came up to see me a couple of minutes later, I could tell that the birthday girl had been crying. Harley and Giselle fought, and he won. When I came downstairs and saw her motionless form laying in our living room, I wept. We had only had her for three days, but I loved her just the same. It feels like a horrible waste, and I have gone through feelings of intense sadness mixed with remorse over not doing enough to protect her followed by anger at our dog. I'll never be able to look at him the same way again.
     Forgiveness is essential; and yet in this case, I know it will take me a long time of continuing to say it out loud till I can actually feel it in my heart. I feel numb and raw, and hurt. My mom is a grief councilor,  and she said that there is always a treasure in grief. I can't find the one at this moment. I'll let you know if this changes.  Part of me wishes, we would have just gotten two cats. She could still be safe in her old home instead of buried in our back yard.
     Initially,  I was relieved when it was mine instead of my girls; but when they instantly started in with cries of protest over putting them outside and all the potential dangers,  I remembered what I think the hardest thing about having pets is: watching them die. I've already buried three cats. My first was also just a kitten when a neighbor dog ran into our yard, and snapped her back. I was three years old, but I can still remember vivid details from that day: the color of the sky, and the place in our yard that it happened...even the room I was held by my mom as my father shot my poor kitty that had been paralyzed and left dying by the attack.
     The hardest thing in all of this has been still looking at Harley. He still pads up to me expecting to go everywhere with me. He still expects the occassional treat. He still expects me to translate his whimpers to the girls. When I get up in the middle of the night, he stills gets up to greet me. Every time I look at him, I struggle with my feelings as I see the puncture wounds she inflicted on his face.  I feel angry with him for winning and just being a dog. I have a hard time touching him knowing what he has done. They say time heals all wounds, but I think that the longer the time after the incident, the easier the pain is to bear. I don't think it ever goes away. Right now the pain is nearly unbearable because it is so fresh.
     So, God, I turn to You and ask you to help me forgive. I ask You to forgive any neglect on my part,  and I ask for Your comfort and perspective on this. Could you bring me some joy too?

In the Trenches

     Yesterday my husband and I  celebrated 15 years of marriage. We've had our ups and downs, but overall I think we've had a really great journey together.  Last night as I was reminiscing,  I remembered our 1O year anniversary.  We took a trip to Ireland to celebrate; and one day as we were exploring Dingle Peninsula, we had a conversation that I took rather seriously.  It was all about feeling like we weren't really even friends anymore.  I remember being so upset by it that I considered throwing myself off the cliffs into the foaming water below. The one thing that kept my feet firmly on the ground was the knowledge that I had a two and four year old waiting at home that would never understand why I hadn't come home when I had promised that I would.  As we continued exploring, my hubby and I talked some more. It was clear that this wasn't the end of our marriage.  Neither of us wanted that (although when we first talked I felt overwhelmingly hopeless about it). This was merely a call for us to decide to make our marriage a priority instead of it revolving around the kids. Later that same year, God made Himself very real to me as I began to seek after Him. My husband began the same journey that year, and by the following spring I remember us being happier than we'd been in the  previous 10 years of marriage. I went from feeling supremely low to extremely high in just a matter of a year. I'm so glad that I didn't give into that feeling...I would have missed out on the best years of my life.
     They say that when you marry your husband that you really marry your dad. My hubby and my dad do have many things in common: the both are very good at fixing things, enjoy planting and watching things grow, and like investing in relationships. My hubby actually uses my dad's old Alles Chalmers to mow our yard, and till our garden despite the fact that it is almost as old as I am...obviously, he's had to do a number of repairs on it.
     One big difference between the two of them has been their reaction to my dream. Albeit, I was probably only 6 or 7 at the time, but I had just read a biography about Fanny Crosby and decided that I wanted to write for a living.  When I shared it with my dad he made a comment about investigating other occupations. As an adult, I can see that he was probably making the comment out of concern for my finances, not saying that I wouldn't be good at it. As a child though,  I was convinced that he didn't think I had the talent for it. I carried this misgiving with me for years despite being told otherwise by others and even winning runner up in a writing contest during college.
     When I told my hubby of my dream, he said simply, " What can I do to help you make this happen?" There was no doubt in his mind about me. This was huge for me...that he believed in me! He even invited over a friend of his that was an author to give me some help. It has been at least three years since I told him about this dream, but I've struggled with thinking that I really have anything of valuable to share with others .  There are some pretty amazing people out there with better stories than mine. A dear friend of mine gave me a devotional; and in the forward, it explained how rare it was to find mom's that were willing to write about their experiences "in the trenches". That was a completely new thought to me, but encouraging. Last year when my hubby left his secure job to go to a start-up company and eventually into his own business,  I was determined to write it all down in a book specifically for our kids.  Unfortunately, I fell behind and got discouraged. Even now when I read what little I did write, I'm amazed by the emotion I felt at the time about my situation.  I would write completely differently about it now...maybe because I know the end of that story.
     This June when I realized we were in for another amazing ride, I decided to start blogging about it. So here I am, and I love it! Had my hubby not been so enthusiastic about my dream, I doubt I'd be sharing this with you publicly. It is a rare and special thing to find someone who fully gets you and supports your dream. I believe that God hand picked him just for me. Thank you, honey, for the past 15 years, and for letting me live my dream!