A Natural Mother

          I look at our cat Tiger, and I'm awe...and a little jealous.  She's not even a year old, but she gave birth to eight amazing kittens last week. There was no midwife to hold her hand; although judging by the frantic exodus of the other cats when I opened the porch door, I'd say her fellow cats heard and saw zmore than they wanted. All day long she willing jumps into the box with the kittens and nurses them till they are happily asleep (there is no pediatrician advising her not to nurse them to sleep). Occasionally, I see her jump out for a cat nap in solitude, food, or water. I cannot imagine nursing that many little ones at once, let alone as new mom. Yet, she does it all effortlessly. She even purrs. There's not even a fellow parent to help her out. It makes me feel like a bit of a whiner. She makes motherhood look easy.  Motherhood is difficult and challenging for me, and anyone else who is honest.

            Of course, she never deals with switching out clothes for different seasons or preparing meals, or figuring out crazy things like which orthodontists to go to...or loses her credit card (I'm speaking from very recent experience). Her boy doesn't fall down stairs while attempting to escape the back porch and get hen-pecked on his eyelid after falling onto the hen, making him look like the perfect model for an article entitled "How to Fail at Keeping Your Child Supervised and Safe". She happily nurses for weeks till they grow up and start catching their own dinner or eating from the cat bowl...not for months or even years as the World Health Organization recommends for human babies. She feels no pressure to make decisions about schools or sports or budgets. She doesn't have to cut birds from her diet to because her kittens are sensitive to them. (I tried adding gluten back into Mr. Blue Eyes diet once again, only to have the phlegmy noise return to his breathing within twelve hours...Gracie immediately noticed he was "purring" again.) Life isn't all peaches for her though. She gave birth to eight, but one died shortly after it's birth. Another still had it's placenta attached and appeared to be dead because of it's failure to find her and start nursing. Thankfully,  Half-pint stroked the cool kitten and it moved enough to prove it still had a little bit of fight left (we cut the dried placenta the following day when Tiger still failed to remove it). It's a week later and it's impossible to tell that one apart from it's siblings. I guess we all need a little help from time to time. I found out this week that the verse our girl's had memorized for church this month is Galatians 6:9 which says, "So let's not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don't give up, or quit." It's been a good reminder of the rewards of perseverance, as I've also cut up half a dozen ticks in the past couple of days. Keep on parenting, dear friends. It will be worth it in the end!

Mother's Day Out

           Who would bring their kids to a movie entitled "Mom's Night Out"? Isn't the whole premise about a mom getting away from her children? One mother chose to ignore the logic and brought four children into said movie, only to be interrupted several times to settle disputes over popcorn and notified (via frantic leg kicking) that one six-year-old's blatter was about to burst. Yes, in case you haven't guessed, that crazy mom was me.
           I put out a query the night before on Facebook,  wondering if any area friends wanted to go.  As soon as dear Charles gave me the green light, Half-pint begged to go with me. Mary chimed in, and before long Carrie and Gracie had tear-filled puppy dog eyes. Everyone wanted to go.
           Boundaries are not my strong point. I am an empathizer. I can totally see everyone else's point, even to the point of forgetting my own. I boldly declared to the girls that they could only go IF no one else responded. I was tempted to say that only the older girls could go and leave behind my four and six year old, but I felt like I'd be showing preference.  My hubby is so good at including everyone in what he does that sometimes I feel a little selfish for saying "no". He can be working on the car or planting trees, and he will willingly take five times longer to do something just to include them. I decided to see what www.dove.org said. After all, the movie was rated PG. Dove is really careful to lay everything out in a conservative manner. Many PG "kid's" movies are only recommended for ages 10 and up. I was hoping I could point to them as a justification for leaving Carrie and Grace behind. Nope. They said it was suitable for "all ages". I hate being the bad guy.
         I checked Facebook, and texted a couple of friends.  No one was avaiable. It was Mother's Day. What kind of mom leaves her kids behind when they are the reason for her being celebrated?  After attending the movie, I think the appropriate answer would be "a smart one." The movie was great and my older two really liked it; but despite going to the bathroom before the movie, one hour and forty minutes is too long for a six year old to hold it. Gracie kept talking to me during the film because only some of it was engaging to a four year old's mind. I had to remind her that I couldn't understand the film if she talked to me the whole time. When I told Charles,  he told me that she always talks during movies. Clearly, it's been a while since I've sat down to watch a movie with her...and it may be a while before I do again.
             Despite the distractions, I could really relate to a lot of the movie. I laughed A LOT...from the moment she said she was a "mommy blogger", to when she had a CD issue in her vehicle (been there done that), to when she hid from the kids to eat chocolate in her closet. I laughed at the reference to homeschooling and especially the arrest of the man who killed "mama". What stayed with me the most was when she was talking with Bones about how inadequate she felt. She didn't feel like she was enough. I know how that has felt a lot in my lifetime.  Bones asked her, "Enough for whom?" At the bottom of all her feelings of inadequacy were her own expectations for herself,  not her children's, her husband's or even God's. It made me stop and think about why I don't feel like I'm enough at times. The reality is that it's mainly because of what I'm telling myself or the lies I've chosen to believe.  That message in the film stayed with me beyond those two hours. It stayed with me through this whole week, and I've thought of it many times when I felt overwhelmed.  Bones told the main character that his mama always told him that God loved him just the way he is. I've tried to remember that more this past week, especially when I don't feel like enough. I've also chuckled to myself (clearly much later) over my "moments" I've had since the movie...one of them very shortly after I came home and was confronted with the fact that my house does resemble more of her messed up house than I'd like to admit. Repeat after me: "I am enough."

If you haven't seen the movie, you should...but leave your little ones at home!

In Pursuit of Excellence

            I was a little taken back when my daughter finally spewed out what had been stuck in her craw. "You want me to be perfect!" I had no idea this was what was making her so frustrated in her schoolwork. As a homeschooler, the concept of mastery is always a priority to me. After all, I don't want someone showing up to tell me that I'm hurting our children by not making sure they know their x 3's facts well enough (or that they don't know the words to our national anthem). My daughter had translated my desire for "mastery" into a belief that I expected "perfection". I asked her why she thought I wanted her "to be perfect", and she went on to talk about the remediation process I use (if she gets problems wrong, I go back over them with her to make sure she understands why it is wrong and the correct way to do things). I explained that I just wanted to make sure that she understood the concept, but I acknowledged her feeling pressured by me and apologized. Maybe I was guilty of over going through every problem that was wrong, instead of just looking for a pattern in what was wrong. I feel pressure myself and that had translated to her feeling pressure too.
           "Practice makes perfect." I've said that phrase a lot, but I believe what I long for is excellence.  Jill and Kathy do a great job of outlining the difference in their new book coming out today, "No More Perfect Kids". Here are a couple differences that I really liked: "Excellence is something done well. Perfection is something done without fault. Excellence is attainable. Perfection in unattainable. Excellence allows for failure. Perfection punishes failures." If I hadn't been reading this book, I doubt I would've even sat down to listen to Half-pint that night. The night before Carrie was up at 11:30pm till 2:30am with a horrible ear infection,  and Mr. Blue Eyes had woken up early at 4am till he finally went down at 7am...netting me two hours of sleep. I was exhausted, but I knew this was important because of my daughter's tone of voice. Her words drove home the importance of reading this book at this specific time in my life. Honestly, NMPK wasn't easy for me to read because I could see so many problems that I needed work on (maybe that's my perfectionist tendencies kicking in). We do math timings, handwriting books, and grammar exercises. I was unaware of what else was being taught.
           I would encourage you to pick up the book and find some practical solutions with me. If you pick up the No More Perfect Kids book (e-book or hard copy from any brick and mortar store or online retailer) anytime between March 13 (today!) – 23, 2014, you will be eligible to receive over $100 in free resources.

Here’s how it works:

1) Buy the No More Perfect Kids book between March 13 and March 23
2) Scan or take a picture of the receipt
3) email a copy of your receipt to freebies@nmpk-extras.com
4)Within 24 hours your will receipt a reply with a link and password to unlock you free resources!

Here’s what you’ll get:

4 Printables:

You’re Special Poster
I Corinthians 13 for Parents Poster
Compliments and Corrections Booklet by Dr. Kathy Koch
Conversation Starters for Parents and Grandparents Booklet by Dr. Kathy Koch

4 Hearts at Home Audio Workshops:

When You Feel Like Screaming–Sue Heimer
Getting Inside the Head of Your Kid–Shaunti Feldhahn
Raising Grateful Kids–Marianne Miller
Real Ways to Connect with Your Kids–Kathi Lipp​

3 E-Books:

A Perfect Pet for Peyton by Gary Chapman
How Am I Smart by Kathy Koch
The 10 Commandments of Parenting by Dr. Ed Young

There is also a free 13 day challenge to help motivate us to help our kids. I'll be signing up today. I need a daily challenge to get me started on the right foot. Half-pint and the rest of our children will thank us. Want to join me? Click here.

Let's use the next 13 days of bringing excellence into our homes and classrooms, and a lifetime of growing better as a parent.
          

Watch Out I'm Going to Puke

           My stomach began churning as I quickly rummaged back and forth between my handfuls of bags, my purse, and my coat pockets. Then I began to panic, whispering, "I probably just put them in my pants pocket for some strange reason." More shuffling of my full arms and more rummaging...my stomach began to hurt even worse. I realized at that moment I had forgetten to "lock the door with the keys". This is the fail safe method to prevent things like this from happening. As I walked around the van, I knew what I'd see. There were the keys sitting in the ignition. I was headed to the train station to pick up my mother-in-law, but I had made a quick stop at Wal-Mart because the train would be thirty minutes late. My mind raced and I had that sick feeling in my stomach deepen, it's worse than the flu for someone like me. I had done something stupid.
           I wish it was an occasional thing, but my flawed humanity gets in the way of perfection day after day. A couple Saturdays ago, I had walked out of my kitchen to give the hens compost scraps. I turned on the stove burner, leaving a timer set for eight minutes...just long enough to get my milk up to 180°F for the yogurt. I had plenty of time...I thought. I came in to see our dog Harley looking back and forth at our flaming hand towel on the stove and me, as if to say, "Ma, this don't smell right!" You guessed it--I had the wrong burner on (this happened to me before with Pyrex). Stupid. My stomach felt like making a deposit that day too. The following day, the fire department visited us when a fierce wind kicked up a burning ember while we were burning trash in a barrel. Fire spreads fast on the prairie, but no real damage happened that day because we made the call as soon as we felt we couldn't control the fire. I could tell something major was wrong when my hubby was yelling "Poop!" in German repeatedly. (What was up with all the fire at our house?!)
           Life makes me feel dumb, and I am forever pointing out mistakes to myself.  I have to be intentional about dwelling on the good stuff too. Both of these things were small things. They were easily fixed by some roadside assistance and a glass of water (respectively...I don't think the water would've helped with the locked van) Then, there are moments when I think about my parenting and really feel tempted to feel sick. Watch out I might just puke. What kind of damage am I doing to my kids each time I yell at them or forget to follow through by picking up the dirty clothes for them? Will they remember our homeschooling years as pure drudgery or remember the fun we had? It's just as important to see when a situation is out of control in our parenting as it is with burning grass. Remember the verse in Proverbs about self-contol being better than conquering a city?
          I'm previewing a book called "No More Perfect Kids", and what I love about it is that it has tools for me to fix what is wrong (along with some pointers on things I should be doing differently). I'm the only one that expects perfection from myself.  Everyone else knows how messed up I am because they are too. Last week, I decided to try a technique the book recommended by having my kids write (or say--for the younger set) 15-20 "I am..." statements.  It a way to assess how negatively or positively they feel about themselves and what is important to them. Honestly,  even doing this scared me a little. Do I really want to know how much I've messed up my kids?? It ended up being very reassuring.  I was amazed by how many positive things they had to say about themselves.  If they hadn't though, wouldn't it be better to know about it now then finding out in thirty years from now when it was affecting their families and marriages?
            Lots of people (including my internal naysayer) can point out what I'm doing wrong, but who will help me fix it? The authors of this book, Jill Savage and Dr. Kathy Koch, want to help you. If you want to get this book (your kids will thank you), please wait till the week of March 14-22. If you do, you'll get a whole bunch of freebies valued at $100. I'll keep giving you some good tid-bits that I'm reading, and you can order "No More Perfect Moms" to read if you missed it. It was released last year and is fabulous as well.
         In the meantime, relax, let go of your hurting stomach, and know that only God is perfect. You can thank God that at least you didn't lock you keys in your van or set your house/yard on fire.

Having Chickens Has Made Me a Better Parent

           Some of you reading the title of this post might be thinking, "Yeah, right!?". However,  I had this epiphany earlier this week, and I just had to share it in case you are on the fence about getting chickens? Watch my strong logic on this one (I've been taking notes from the "Mind Bender" books that Mary has been reading).
           Earlier this week, Carrie knocked over a just-opened box of Raisin Bran onto the floor. I felt the heat a-risin' in my blood, and I heard my voice crescendo into a "Caaaaa-rie...". Then, the thought smacked me in the face, "the chickens are going to love all this fiber". I stopped mid-rant and realized that I no longer had to lecture or feel guilty over wasted food. Now that we have chickens, all our food scraps are recycled into delicious eggs. (Harley, our dog, would love to help, but his tummy is a bit dicey.) The chicken's scavenging ways stopped me dead in my yelling tracks.
         Not only have the chickens helped me yell less, they have also been invaluable teaching tools. They've helped answer many questions like, "Where do eggs come from?", "How do chickens bathe?", or "Who will rule the barnyard: a 90lb. dog, four cunning cats, five pecking hens, or two mallard ducks?"  My personal favorite question they have answered is "What will teach our children a strong work ethic?" The chickens have shown my girls the need for persistent care. It may be single digits outside,  but they need fresh water maintaned, eggs gathered,  and fresh bedding laid down. The hens don't sleep in or forget what their job is (although I do give the girls one morning off-everyone deserves a Sabbath).  The hens are teaching them endurance (with a few choice words from me about getting to work). Another parenting goal is closer to completion.
            My final point regarding my parental improvement is the nutritional value of our eggs. One article from the Harvard Medical School (seems like a repudible source) states, " Eggs are a good source of nutrients. One egg contains 6 grams of protein and some healthful unsaturated fats. Eggs are also a good source of choline, which has been linked with preserving memory, and lutein and zeaxanthin, which may protect against vision loss." Look at me protecting my children's memory and vision. (Of course, this could backfire someday if they remember all my scolding when they are making decisions on my nursing home residence. Also, this might be an issue if their vision is so good that they see my giant dust bunnies and turn me into the health department.) Look at the other info listed about choline (from the "Incredible Egg" website): Egg yolks are an excellent source of choline, an essential nutrient that contributes to fetal brain development and helps prevent birth defects. Two eggs provide about 250 milligrams of choline, or roughly half of the recommended daily intake for pregnant and breastfeeding women. Who wouldn't want eggs (unless, of course, you are allergic to them)?

I rest my case. Charles and Half-pint may have given us chickens, but they have been the gift that keeps on giving. Maybe they'd make a lovely Christmas present for the person who has everything...
        

Brotherly Love or Sibling Rivalry?

         We have a new animal on our farm. The sea monkeys have finally made their appearance albeit a couple of weeks later than we had anticipated.  Forgive the picture. It was the best I could do since we were unwilling to buy the harmless food for them that colors them red (guess we aren't serious about sea monkeys yet, as the ad claims the food is "only for serious sea monkey lovers") The sea monkeys were discovered by accident. I was quietly waiting for the right moment to encourage Half-pint to dump the water. Mary and Half-pint have been sleeping in this past week instead of getting up promptly for school (one morning by as much as an hour). They are assigned extra chores if they aren't ready on time, and this past weekend they also had extra lessons and schoolwork (one downside, for them, to have their mom as their teacher...hehe). One good thing came of their chores, besides a cleaner house. Mary was removing the dust bunnies upstairs when she noticed a sea monkey swimming in the water. So far there are just two, but I have to admit they are much cuter than I thought. They have tiny feathery legs that undulate slowly while they dive from the surface to the floor of their tank. They seem to be getting along well, which brings me to the next tidbit of news.
           We attempted to introduce one of the week old ducklings to one of the newest hatchlings within a few hours of hatching. It promptly bit the newest ducklings tail feathers (which is just what the mommy did). Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Later in the week, we decided to try again. We needed to vacate the smaller pen for the last duckling due this week. This time the older ducklings and the newest ones got along like old buddies, grooming and snuggling each other. It's so cute to watch them sleep together.  The four babies like to cluster around one older duckling named Rusty (Half-pint named the duck Rusty "because it's the cutest"?) Rusty seems the most tollerant of their preening and space intrusion.
            Well, our farm population is growing, and there are now pine chips everywhere despite daily vacuuming.  It's totally worth it though to see the girls (and baby boy) watch and learn about the ducklings. It is funny how a little thing like animals can bring unity to siblings. They can all sit and watch the animals together in perfect harmony, until somebody "steals" someone else's spot to view the animals. It is a great opportunity to share and learn to take turns.

           This holiday season, I'm grateful for the peace and harmony in our home and the life we share together.  What are you grateful for?

Incubation, Puking Princesses, and Sea Monkeys at Midnight

           Half-Pint bought an incubator about a month ago; and though our first batch of old eggs failed (and oozed and gave us grief-read that story here), our female mallard began to lay fresh eggs. We dutifully began daily collecting and storing them between 40º and 60º (after carefully reading up about it). You are supposed to only store them for up to seven days before beginning incubation, so two and a half weeks ago we put them in. After six days, we carefully held them up to an altered toilet paper roll with a flashlight shining through one end (called "candling") to find fine veins and a small gray shadow in all seven eggs.  Half-pint was grinning from ear to ear for the entire day. Mrs. Duck continued to lay eggs, so we continued to gather. There were only six eggs laid in the next week, and five of them proved to be fertile (showing veins and a shadow). Still we were very excited with our possibilities. She proceeded to lay one more egg that we are yet to candle. Now comes the tricky part. We have three batches of eggs at three different stages. The first batch has continued to grow (we candled them at 13 days with the second batch...they have a much bigger shadow and nice veins), and are due to hatch around Nov. 13th. However,  it is recommended to stop turning them for the last three days (so they can get their bearings), which means we need to remove the turner (apparantly the little buggers could get tripped up in that and croak). We could turn the next two batches of eggs by hand for three days, but half-pint teared up at that suggestion because humidity and temperature is critical. You aren't supposed to disturb the incubator lid even to add water (for humidity) during those three days. This leaves me wondering if we will turn Half-pint's entire room into a sauna for three days, try introducing Paddles and Puddles to half-pint's room to finish the laying process (in a dog kennel, mind you) or recruit Charlotte to come and keep the eggs warm (she LOVES laying on eggs). I'll keep you posted on "As The Duck Waddles". We had more ducky happenings this week thanks to Mr. Blue Eye's costume.
          Our new town brought new Halloween traditions. We attended a fabulous library party on the 21st. On Halloween, the children around here go trick-or-treating on Main Street at the businesses which stay open late (till seven according to the local newspapers). It was supposed to start at 5pm, and we arrived at 6pm. Apparently,  they didn't read the newspaper because by 6:30 when the children fizzled, the businesses shut their doors. I felt sorry for the kids that showed up at 6:45pm to find no one out (Carrie had to pee at that time, so we used the public toilet at the Chamber of Commerce who also had shut their doors early, but took pitty on my dancing turtle). This brings me to our costumes. I do not buy pre-made costumes anymore. I stopped two years back when Half-pint insisted on making her own pumpkin costume from Charles' orange T-shirt. I quickly got over the fact that it wasn't perfect (Would others feel sorry for my poor child without a mom to step in and make a costume worthy of Pinterest?)  and revelled in the uniqueness of it. Store-made costumes are usually more expensive,  and I've seen how creative my kids can be when I've helped them bring their dream to life. With that said, I've also lived through the years of very young children incapable of creating their own costumes...and I do NOT judge moms that need sleep more than a few dollars spent on a costume (and some who buy on clearance for the next year or at rummage sales).  This is just what works for us. Mr. Blue Eyes donned a beard (attached to his camo hat...12 in. of plush brown fabric thanks to Joanne's for $2.99) and full camo. He held his rubber ducky to chew on for a complete Duck Dynasty ensemble. Puddles and Paddles wanted to go along, but I said no. He met up with 3 other Duck Dynasty boys, and they graciosly posed for a picture with him. Gracie asked to be Rapunzel, for which I attached strand upon strand of yarn to a yellow headband. She went to the party at the library but began puking Halloween day. She stayed locked in her tower with Charles. However, Charles came up with the brilliant idea of letting her trick-or-treat at our bedroom doors from the candy we had gotten while out. She ended up with a full bucket, and my heart brimmed with pride at our girls' generosity. Carrie went as a snapping turtle; and although I cut out her shell, she decorated it by spending two days coloring it with markers. Half-pint went as a pirate, and created an elaborate ship complete with lego people walking the plank. The ship only went to the library party though. We feared it would've shipwrecked on the sidewalk. Mary decided to dress up as "Autumn" (the season) complete with a leaf boa, and braided bun for her cardinal's nest. It was so much fun to watch them design and create!
           This past week has seen a lot of late nights, like Halloween. One of them though was thanks to Half-pint's Awana store night. The kids are awarded Awana bucks for memorizing verses, and once a month, they can purchase fabulous prizes for their hard work. Half-pint purchased a complete sea monkey kit because, "what is a farm for except animals?". After our last mishap with the duck eggs, I stayed up till midnight to help research everything we needed to know about the sea creatures. It began when she insisted on distilled water, which she insisted was crucial and found somewhere on the internet information page she had looked at (even though I found nothing on the included packaging about it). I love learning,  but I prefer not to do it at midnight. Still, the little specks that they are (they are the size of a period) still are rather interesting though, and I look forward to seeing them grow. I will keep you posted on "All My Sea Monkeys", and I promise to even include a picture or two.
              It looks like there's going to be an explosion of life here on our prairie,  even though winter is fast approaching. It should make for an interesting season. Please feel free to share your thoughts or expertise on any of these topics. I'd love to read it.

The Escape Artist

             We have one chicken who is a master escape artist. Her name is Sunny, and she goes rogue almost every afternoon. She brilliantly flies off or climbs through a fence hole (there are some perks to being the runt and smaller than everyone else) to free-range without her sisters. She eats first from our compost. Then, she tastes the choicest grass on the hilltop. The world is her oyster or buffet (however you want to look at it). She loses the safety of her flock; but since she is the bottom of the pecking order anyhow, she also frees herself of the heirachy and pain. 

          Sometimes, I wish I were Sunny. I just want to fly off and have my own space. I feel a pang of guilt in admitting that; but this past week, I realized that even Jesus got tired and took naps. I can't tell you how many times I've been exhorted to get up early before everyone else and spend time praying, just like Jesus did...and I'm not saying they're wrong. It is biblical, but I can't remember anyone preaching about how even Jesus took naps. It's in the Bible too (Luke 8:23). Remember the story about Him falling asleep in the boat and being woken up because of the disciple's fear over the storm. (Can you relate to people, albeit little people, waking you up because they're scared?)
          At one time, I questioned why anyone would seriously not feel like going back to their family after getting a break. I remember hearing a good friend express this to me, and wondering what was wrong with her. How could she even consider this? This was all before I had more than two children, so that might explain part of it.
          This past week has brought me many moments that are funny now, but I desperately wanted to escape from at the time. Half-Pint incubated some duck eggs that Puddles (our female mallard duck) is refusing to sit on. After a few hours, the porous eggs began to ooze their rotting contents. The smell that hit me when coming into the house was horrendous. I would suggest checking what your nine year old has researched on the internet concerning fertile eggs...yes, they should have shadows...but also veins...and only AFTER incubation, not before. We had to dump the eggs, but thankfully, Puddles has begun laying more fresh eggs. This meant cleaning the incubator. I carried the base (that was too heavy for Half-Pint) filled with some putrid water accross our carpet, never realizing there were some holes in the base until some of the nasty water spilled on my clothes and the carpet. It was enough to make me want to hide in room and take a nap, but that didn't work out so well for me this past Saturday either.
           I laid down to rest my eyes for half an hour. When I got up, I went down to the basement to start some laundry. My jaw dropped open in suprise at the concentrated laundry soap that covered a good 3 square foot area of tile. While I was resting, the container had been knocked over onto the floor and the lid that I had loosened so the detergent freely flowed out the other side came off. I began sopping up the soap with some dirty laundry while I wondered what the point of my nap was. I no longer felt rested.
            Then there is the awesome change of season which brought the sudden realization that Mary has one outfit for fall...and Half-Pint has zero warm shirts. We headed off to Kohls last Friday for a lesson on Economics and Art (creating and combining outfits for the tween crowd at our house should count for something,right?) We were only there for ten minutes when little Carrie declares that she has to pee NOW. I race to the nearest associate to find out where the bathroom is. As I'm shoving the stroller at break-neck speed (the amount of accidents I have cleaned up in the past month are beyond counting, and I don't want another one now), Carrie stops in front of the stroller to talk to me. I run into her causing her to complain about her ankle getting scraped, but I rush past her goading her on toward the bathroom. I'm convinced she is exaggerating the pain, but she promptly drops to the ground in agony, holds her breathe, passes out, and looses control of her bladder in front of the Vera Wang pajamas display. We proceed to the bathroom and problem solve how to get a five year old to the van where clean clothes (intended for my potty-training three year old are). Carrie refuses to put her wet clothes back on. I end up giving her my Blush as a makeshift skirt. We did exit the store again 3 hours later with a couple pants and tops for both girls. Mission accomplished. I won't even go into detail about the escapade of yet another accident on Tuesday this time at the park by Grace. She rode home in a diaper and jacket, since I hadn't remembered to replace the clothes for the accident bag.
        The reason for wanting to escape from my work isn't really so much about exhaustion or feeling underappreciated like I've heard many moms talk about. I think it might be because I don't really value the moment I'm in. I hate it when the unpredictable happens. I don't like my schedule being messed with. I love what Jill Savage says in "No More Perfect Moms" that "The moment we are in is just as important as the moment we planned." I need that as a daily reminder because my planning is constantly hijacked. My attitude can make the difference between it feeling like a vacation or prison (laundry anyone?).
          So for now, I will relish the fifteen minutes of holding my new eight week old kitten in the sunlight (Harley, the dog, has already been sternly told that they are not chew toys, and he no longer drools while staring at them). I will open my heart to the words I read in the Bible when the house is quiet in the morning. I will stop and smile when my day is derailed...and know that every moment is a gift and an opportunity for growth.

          

Amo, Amas, Amat

           School began in our house this past Monday; and if you couldn't tell by the title of this post, our new coursework includes...Latin! I'm so excited to learn this along with my two oldest. I got a small dose of Latin when I studied medical terminology in college and I really loved learning it. I feel so smart understanding large medical words like hysteroslapingo-oophorectomy. Now we are learning fun phrases to use in everyday conversations like "Que me amat, amet et canem meum." (This means "Love me, love my dog"... we'll try this on our new neighbors.)
          I have two years of homeschooling under my belt, but we are adding a few new things into the mix for this year. First off, this is my first year teaching kindergarten.  I love my five year old's enthusiasm (and that color by number is educational for her...my older two enjoy calc-u-color) She runs to get up and make her bed in the morning. She has been waiting so long for school.This is also my first year repeating any material.  (It's a bit comforting to know what's coming up in third grade math).
              We are also planning on moving which makes a big impact on the rules concerning homeschooling. Although my hubby's job is in Kansas, it's located close enough to the border that we are actually looking at living in Missouri. Missouri's laws include a mandatory number of hours, and that you maintain documentation of it. You must complete 600 hours in the core subjects (400 must be at your primary residence), with a whopping 1,000 hours total. In Illinios, you are required to teach your children the equivalent of what they'd learn in public school, but they don't tell you how to do it. The new rules for our new state have left me with some questions: Since my kindergartener isn't seven yet (and school isn't compulsory till seven years of age in Missouri), do I need to do a thousand hours of school with her or just ensure that she learns everything a kindergartener should know?  Does anyone know if Latin counts toward language arts? How do foreign languages work? Do I have to stop my clock when we have recess and lunch? If you know these answers, I'd love your help!
            I've decided that these hour stipulations are going to give me more excuses to be creative in how I conduct school. We are doing more projects and other enrichment activities for history. Today the girls played a game of "Steal the Spanish Treasure" (think scaled-down game of risk meets checkers) after reading about the Spanish conquistadors and their mining of gold from South America. I'm also counting the time I read out loud "Little House in the Big Woods" to everyone,  and "A Princess of Mars" to the older two (some of Edward Rice Burroughs word send me to the dictionary).  I can't wait to try out some awesome field trips in our new location as well.
          My girls gave a little groan when they realized we were starting school a little earlier this year, but after the first day they all had grins on their faces. Even my nature loving girl decided her "Easy Grammar" was actually easy. It's going to be a great year not to merely scrape by, but to dig in, find new adventures, learn Latin, et cetera. (I've already learned that Latin has no soft "c" sound...so go try that last Latin word again.)

      If you have any advice about my questions, please fire away in the comments below. 

Five New Things I Learned the Fifth Time Around

             I've been in the baby stage of mothering since 2002, but I still keep learning more about myself and children. Here's a few things a that even I didn't know until the last year.
           1) You can run during pregnancy safely. With a little research and encouragement from fellow runners, I ran up until the day before I went into labor. I had to slow down. (I ran at 5.3 mph at the beginning of my pregnancy; and in my third trimester, I had to slow down to 4.5 mph). I hate running,  but I loved the energy I had during my pregnancy.  I felt fantastic!  I had barely any swelling, and I had cravings for more proteins than carbs...which meant a more balanced diet for my little one. In the previous two pregnancies, I had gained around 35-37 lbs. This time around I gained 24 lbs. I wondered if this would effect the baby's size, but my fifth weighed 7 lbs. 15 oz. (making him my biggest baby so far)
           2) Homebirth's are awesome and much safer than is generally believed.  I was surprised to find out how many precautions they take with homebirths...all the way from having IV fluids and emergency drugs available to the intensive history and listening for any signs of distress. I would have a homebirth again in a heartbeat...if there were a sixth time around.
           3) Olive oil is great for newborn bottoms. Every time I had bought some thick gunky diaper rash cream because the first poo (meuconium) stuck to the skin and caused horrible irritation. I was told by my midwife to simply apply olive oil after each diaper change with a cotton ball, and viola, the poo doesn't stick...which means it's easily wiped off...which means zero diaper rash. Super natural and effective!
             4) Washclothes are essential for baby boy diaper changes. Instead of getting peed on, the washcloth will take the brunt and save your shirt. It didn't seem to matter how recently he'd peed, he always was ready to fire. After the first couple of months, he stopped being so dangerous.
              5) Babies don't need constant bathing. I had no idea that the white coating (vernix caseosa) would actually be helpful. We never washed it off but rubbed it into his skin as our midwife suggested. Instead of having the nasty peeling skin (that all my other babies went through at a week out), his skin was all soft and sweet-smelling. Our midwife explained that it is like awesome baby lotion that protects the skin while in utero and also will protect them after birth. I swear his spit up just wiped off so much better...like natural Rain-X. (Ok, so that's a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point.) I also found that sponge baths were completely sufficient for most days. Once a week after the cord healed, I gave him a complete bath making sure to scrub his head with a gentle brush to keep the cradle cap at bay. I did miss brushing a part of his forehead with a small patch of hair...when it started turning yellow like a week old bruise, I gave it a good brushing too. Although he needed his neck area washed a lot due to all his spitting up, he didn't need a full bath every other day (which was the regiment I had imposed on all of the previous four babies from the day they had come home from the hospital).

           This may be my fifth child, but it is my first boy. My mother-in-law used to talk about how good of a baby my hubby was. My newest child is a real chip off the old block. He is the most easy-going, low maintenance baby ever. I can't imagine any girl ever finding him less than that...but I'm sure she'll be tempted to once she's married.  When I pray for his future spouse, I ask that God will give him a woman that will love him and truly appreciate him, who will encourage him and enjoy his adventures along side him. This makes me reflective about how I respond to my adventuring partner. Am I enjoying the journey that we are on together? When I look into my sons eyes, I can see his father, and it makes my love and appreciation for both of them grow even more. The gift of a fresh perspective has been the greatest blessing the fifth time around.

What have you learned in the past year?

Where Is Home?

          We've gone through negotiations for a house many times now, and just when it seems like it's only a matter of days, something else gets thrown into the mix. Most recently we waited for a redo of a home disclosure only to have the seller add several items they were unwilling to leave instead of changing an answer to more correctly reflect the house's condition (a condition that my hubby caught while walking through the house showing). Nothing has felt like it has gone smoothly other than the initial sale contract on our house that fell through a month and a half later.
            Along with all the challenges of relocation, our animals have presented fun challenges this week too. Our female mallard duck had a growth on her third membrane in her eye. It basically looked like a small pencil eraser was coming out of the corner of her eye. One avian vet visit later (and eyedrops administered twice daily), and it is starting to look better. When they started saying that we only had a 50/50 chance of it going away, our family started praying really hard. We love Splashes, but she is not having a $400 surgery to remove the growth. Yesterday,  we also had the fun of waiting for Charlotte to stop laying on her egg and one of the other hen's eggs before we left to go to the library. Heaven help the person who tries to move a hen who is sitting on her eggs. You might just lose an eye. She snuck out of her pen in the yard to get back in our hen house that was supposed to be vacated for cleaning...apparently she missed our out of order sign. We couldn't just leave the house or the pen open while we were gone without leaving all the hens defenseless against the neighbor dog. I can't really complain though. The pancakes we had this morning thanks to her work were quite tasty.
          Every year my kids get excited when Cheerios puts out their boxes with books in them. We each pick out a book. This year one of them is entitled,  "Where Is Home, Little Pip?" The penguin gets lost and asks every animal for help, but they only describe their own home. Each animal includes their family as part of the description in their home. At the end of the story Pip's parents find her; but when they go to settle down for the night,  Pip questions why they aren't going to their original home. The parents then reveal that home is where they all are, no matter the location. We opened the box of Cheerios that held this book on the day we signed our contract for selling our home back at the end of May. It seemed fitting to be reminded what really constitutes a home. I had all kinds of emotions that day and in the days that have followed; but today as we look to where we will all be together again, it's a good reminder too of what we look forward to. There is a restlessness growing within all of us to have a reuniting of our family. None of us like being apart. This house doesn't feel like a home without my hubby here. I know he feels more at peace when he is here with us too.
          Last week our baby turned six months old, and I decided to walk around the house with our camcorder to document all the rooms and their importance especially for the baby,  who'll be too young to remember it. I showed him where he was born, and where he took his first bath (actually since it was a water birth maybe it's technically the same) along with where he swang while I'd run my thirty minutes.  Someday, I think he'll appreciate it. Every morning he looks over his crib railing, gibbering and waiting for me to arrive. I am greeted with the biggest grin ever because all he really wants is me. Home is where we are together.  He knows it now. Hopefully,  he'll never forget it.

Evening Expirations

          A good friend of mine took some of our girls over to her house for the evening, and asked what time I wanted them to come home. I said that around 8pm would be good. She made a joking comment about how past 8:30 it is hard to be a good parent...like we expire at that time. I couldn't agree more. I wish I could have a label on me that says," Go to bed by 8:30pm (or your sweet mother will turn into a head-spinning harpy)."
          The last few weeks have felt like a bit of a time warp when I get past seven o'clock. It doesn't seem to matter if I start getting the three youngest ready for bed at 7:30 or 9pm. It has still been almost 10:00pm before I get done and can go to bed. Part of me feels like I'm slowly spinning out of control, but the sensible part of me acknowledges that parenting takes time, that our lives have felt hectic lately, and that getting three little ones to bed and getting them to stay there is something that will get easier over time. I can get so caught up in what I feel I'm failing in that I forget to look at what I am ultimately accomplishing...putting three children to bed and giving a good close to their day, even if a little discipline is included.
           Even if I can't have my expiration clearly labeled, I can help my attitude with another evening expiration.  As a x-ray tech, I am all too familiar with another type of expiration. We have people exhale their air for certain exams like an abdominal x-ray. Performing an abdominal x-ray on expiration allows you to see a lot more in the picture. When I am stressed out, a good expiration can really help me to see the bigger picture too...especially when I am giving me cares over to God. At the end of the day, I used to rehash all the things that I did wrong during the day in my head...trying to think how I could do it differently next time and avoid the problem.  Now when those thoughts come to me, I expire those as  prayers back up to God. At night, I am almost constantly dialoging with God. "I'm tired, God...and they are misbehaving again!" Breathe out. The thought pops into my head, "If they don't stop misbehaving, tell them their cuddle time is over." Breathe in. "I just want my night to be over, God." Breathe out. "Hang in there! Set a timer, so you both know when it's time to leave the room. " Breathe in.
       As I expire my problems to God.  He inspires new solutions to my problems. This last Saturday, we were contacted with a new offer on our house. This offer is not an all-out offer to buy the house right now. It is an offer contigent on their house selling. In fact, they are putting our house on the market in order to buy our house. As we were trying to come to an acceptable agreement,  I felt frustrated. It was the end of the day, when I was tired and ready to be done. I was scrubbing the girl's hair for their bath while talking and texting back and forth to my husband. My hubby made the comment of praying about the issue. Breathe out. I began to ask God if I was being unreasonable about one aspect of the negotiations,  and a new thought flew into my head that I don't think I would've come up with on my own...a very good reason that made our position understandable. Breathe in. When I shot the idea to my hubby,  it made sense to him too. We ran it by the realtor,  and she agreed with it too. Yesterday, we signed a new-contract that we could both agree on. Since it is contingent on them selling their house, we will continue to show ours. If someone else makes a better offer, they have a window of time to come up with that money; or we can sell the house to the new person. Yesterday, as we left the house to show it again before my daughter's birthday party, I realized I felt completely at peace. That is totally a God thing. He is with me every step of my day...just waiting to breathe inspiration into me, when I feel ready to expire.

What do you need to expire?  If you'd like to leave a comment,  I will be happy to pray with you about it.

The Gray Area

         Life is full of black and white; but between the black and white, there is the gray area...that's the tricky part, the part I find the most frustrating and confusing. It's the area that's open to personal opinion and interpretation. Friday night I spent several hours in the local ER with my five year old due to the gray area. She tested positive for strep on her throat on Thursday. When she'd been on antibiotics for more than 24 hours and her fever had jumped from 102.3 to 104.8 (without the ibuprofen) in the same 24 hour period, I began to feel that the antibiotics might not be helping. When I looked at her tonsils, I saw that her tonsils had gone beyond just having pus on them to having great big red streaks as well. I called the after hours hotline in hopes of either being told to sit tight for another 12 hours and watch what happens or to have a different antibiotic prescribed. Instead,  I was told that I had to take her to the ER. I tried to reason with the nurse that I knew the fever was responding to the ibuprofen,  and I could take another temp immediately if that was her concern...but she had consulted another nurse and was concerned that something more was involved due to the high temp. Here was the gray area. I didn't believe anything would come of our visit to the ER. Indeed three hours later when we were seen, she was fever and pain free. However,  there was this nagging thought of "what if". What if there was a bigger problem with her, and my stubborness got in the way of her well-being. It was worth it to me to lose the time, just to be safe.
            Selling a home has turned out to have huge gray areas. There is a fine line between what is legal and what is morally right. We found a legal proposal to fixing our existing septic system, but after third and fourth opinions,  we have chosen to replace it completely...so it is in no way a detractor from someone wanting to buy it. Another gray area we have dealt with recently is whether or not we could keep the earnest money from our buyer that backed out. After looking into it for a day, we were told we had no right to it.
            Our next step is a huge gray area too...not just what to do from a monetary standpoint,  but also from a psychological standpoint. Part of me wants to just leave now and start our new life in Kansas...the other part of me is dealing with closure from all the ties and relationships we have built here for the past twelve years. Today when my eldest daughter said goodbye to her best friend who'd be gone for the next four weeks, I wanted to cry. I doubt we will still be here in four weeks. This could be the last time in a long time for them to see each other. I did cry a little later, but I chose to be grateful that my daughter had another chance to hang out with her bestie. One of our daughters is coping with our move by spending more time alone. She is a natural extrovert, so it's strange seeing her so reclusive.   I talked to her a couple of weeks ago about this, and it was a relief to hear her finally share how she was feeling through all this. We both agreed that the hardest part of this is not knowing what the future holds. Will our next house be as wonderful? Will we find friends quickly? Will we settle for another twelve years? We don't know these answers, but I encouraged her that when these thoughts raced to her mind to think about how God knows all about our future...He has promised plans to prosper us, not to harm us (Jer. 29:11). Our future may be shrouded in gray mystery, but my calling as wife to love, honor, and obey my hubby in both the good times and the bad is not. I made a promise, a vow in front of God and my family. God knew what those words would cost me, and He also knew all the good things that I would be blessed with as a result. I know our future together will hold challenges,  but ultimately good things as well.
        My five year old has been obsessed with drawing me pictures almost daily of rainbows. Below is my favorite that I named "Bridge Over Troubled Water With a Rainbow" (my daughter was willing to sell it for two cents). The rainbow reminds me of God fulfilling His promises.  I need that reminder a lot lately. The bridge reminds me of His help through the rough spots. Life is not just full of black and whites and gray areas. If you look hard enough through the sunlight and your tears, you will see the beautiful rainbow of His promises.

The Duke

          Yesterday my five year old lost her very first pet, Duke, our lone Rhode Island Red rooster. He was beautiful and was almost fully grown. His tail feathers has just begun to grow longer with a lovely dark green to them. He had also begun to crow his trademark "cock-a-doodle-doo" first thing in the morning.
              Our next door neighbor called to apologize and tell us that their German Shepherd had seen our chickens out in the tall grass next to the road. Much to their chagrin, she began chasing and killing them. They tried calling her off,  but she had already killed several. We were saddened to find three hens and one beautiful rooster dead.  Five of our ten chickens survived and one remains MIA. My five year old hoped out-loud that her strong and fast rooster hadn't been killed, but I told her that if his hens had been threatened,  I was positive he would have charged out to fight and defend them. We found our rooster farthest from the barn as he flew into the dog and lost his life.
              Some of you may be wondering how much a little girl could love a cocky rooster...she loved him a whole lot. She picked him up and carried him around like a cherised cat. He happily laid on her chest. She spent hours picking worms and berries for him. He was the first living thing she was in charge of. 
            I've watched the two older grieve the loss of their first pets, and it always breaks my heart. I know that this is a part of life that just plain stinks, and this isn't the last time they will know loss from death. I'm glad that at the very least we can go through this together.
             My mom helps adults process their loss after losing family members,  so she has given lots of tips over the years that have really helped me with guiding our girls through this (plus I had a lot of experience as a little girl with losing pets and people). Yesterday when I gathered the chickens up, I said goodbye to them out loud. I stroked their feathers and told them my feelings that "I was sorry they died". I watched as my five and three year old did the same. When my dad died, I was afraid to touch him and that haunted me for along time afterwards. Now, it is one of the first things I do to say goodbye.  At first, my older ones said that the rooster was hurt too badly for me to pick him up, but I think it's important for our little girl that he was not left out in the open...that we "cared" for him one last time. I don't want her thinking that we deserted him for other animals to eat him, even if chickens are food. He was special to her.
           I think it's also a great idea to hold a small service for a pet. This is not our first one, so the older girls did some things that were meaningful to them like putting flowers in with their chickens. My second oldest even had all the living chickens peck the flowers as a way for the living to say goodbye to the deceased. I like to say a prayer to thank God for their part in our lives, but also to share how much we hurt and will miss them. I ask God to heal that hurt that I am feeling. I tell Him that I don't understand why, but that I trust Him. We usually sing a favorite song and say a couple scriptures. One of my favorites is the scripture that says how Job responded to loss: "the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." (Job 1:21)  We laid the hens into the hole first, so that even in death Duke could  "shield" them. Our five year old quickly pointed this out. The girls laid their flowers into the hole with them and we cried over them while sharing our favorite stories about them.
            My oldest offered to bake cupcakes to eat after the service, which models what many people do after traditional funeral services. We've had food after other animal services before. It's a comforting thing to eat something and share funny stories.
           My five year old stood with tears streaming down her face at our funeral. She was not alone. I cried right along with her and told her it'd be normal to feel sad when we saw our chickens missing from the survivors. Two of my hens were killed as well. We all gave her hugs as she sobbed about how she would miss her rooster. We know that we will have more chickens, but that there will never be another Duke. We talked about him at bedtime,  and spoke about how brave he was...how he had laid down his life for his hens...including my favorite, Charlotte.
           Hopefully, long from now, when she says goodbye to a person not only will the process feel familiar,  but she will also remember that her heart did heal after the loss of her pet. At least, we could walk this road together for her first time. I know this is just the beginning of her healing process, but I intend to be there with her along the way. Duke not only served as a great first pet, but also as a integral part in my little girl growing up and learning about a hard part of life. For that I will be forever grateful.
          What have you found to be a meaningful way to say goodbye? How have you helped or been helped to deal with loss?

Potty Princesses and Carmel Sundaes

            Our three year has shown interest in potty training off and for the past six months, but it wasn't until a few weeks ago that she accomplished the amazing feat of her first number two in the potty.  She was promptly rewarded gratuitosly with a gormet sucker. I hate using food as a reward...but I needed something I had easy access to for immediate gratification.  The next day she again repeated her trick, and we quickly upped the ante to a helium filled balloon (from the dollar store). When my kids figure out number two in the potty, I start really getting excited. I know that complete potty training is right around the corner. Yesterday was a first...her first day in panties. Guess what? So far she has initiated going potty whenever she has needed, and has had zero accidents. She is currently earning Chuck E. Cheese tokens for a visit. I have wistfully wondered if she would EVER potty train. It seems like she is the last one in her class who still has a diaper left at the counter during her class. Everyone else is potty-training.  I had always been told that you should wait till they were ready, but at three years and three months old, I thought it'd never happen. My other three were trained long before they turned three. I haven't changed her poopy pants for more than two weeks, and I'm excited to have one less box of diapers to buy.
          Yesterday was another first, Carmel (my hubby's hen) decided to go rogue when I rounded up the chickens to put in the cage at night. She snuck into the tall grass by our fenceline flanked by two poison ivy plants. As I carefully tried to grab her, I felt a burning sensation on my arm akin to the feeling you have when your foot falls asleep. It was my first experience with stinging nettles. Yes, I know chickens will naturally go into their area to roost for the night around dusk, but I was planning on going to a bridal shower and needed to hurry things along. My daughter who handles evening chores had a chance to visit her Nana, and I couldn't say no. The stinging sensation was so annoying that I was tempted to take my revenge by getting out the crock pot and making a Carmel sundae on a bed of fresh rice. I think the girls days of me doing chores for them are numbered.  I can feel a big ol' fat boundary coming.
           We are still figuring out our septic issue. The second opinion could serve to save us a good chunk of change, but only if our buyers accept it. Thanks for your continued prayers. I trust that God is still in control,  and that some good will come of this for us (Rom. 8:28). Until then, I will continue to celebrate that our little girl is growing up, and that my workload has just gotten lighter. The potty princess no longer hollars for me to change her...we've graduated to hollaring for help with wiping.

Dear Hubby

Dear Hubby,
       You are an amazing man! I think you tend to focus on the negative things about yourself (like I do about myself); so this Father's Day, I wanted to tell you what I admire about you as a Father.
       I loved my dad, and thought he was amazing too. I knew he was aware that I messed up from time to time, but I ALWAYS was convinced of his love for me. This is one of the things that I think you really excell at. The girls know you love them. I see the same happy look in our girl's eyes that I had when they find that you always watch their crazy ride down the hill on their big wheel or their flip onto the couch. I see the delight in their smile when you take them to the store with you and bring them back with candy (for my dad, he almost always took me for a Blizzard).
       The way you take them on regular dates fill my heart with happiness because I know how much that relationship investment means to them now (and will mean to them in the future). There is something priceless about having someone look at you with unconditional love...they don't know how lucky they are. It still makes me miss my dad a little when I see your relationship with them, but that's ok. I often bemoan the fact that my dad is gone; but when I talk to friends,  I realize how many of them are still lacking that sense of their father's love or approval. It makes me grateful that I at least had it for a good portion of my childhood. I'm thrilled that our girls will have that for the rest of your life.
        I love that you always take time to listen to them whenever they feel like talking...really listen to them.
        I'm glad that when I asked the girls who they think your favorite is they unanimously said it was me. I'm glad they are growing up in a home that they see you putting our relationship as a priority.
        I think it is seriously manly of you that you are quick to apologize to them if you are wrong. When I hear others speak of their fathers never admitting that they are ever wrong, it makes me sad. We are all human, duh!
       I want you and the world to know how awesome you are! You have not followed in your father's footsteps, and that's a great thing!! You are a real man!

I'm proud of you, and I love you so much!
                            Your Adventure Partner,
                             Adventure Girl                                    

All Locked Up

           Our youngest is four month old and unintentionally pulls hair when he is excited to play with you. I quickly defend him to his sisters that "he's just a baby"and doesn't know what he's doing, while untangling his fingers from their hair. It doesn't hurt any less, but at least it doesn't feel malicious. There always comes a day of reckoning when you realize they ARE fully aware of what they are doing. I think this past week the was a real eye opener for me concerning the former baby of the family.
           We had a playdate with a couple of friends, and at one point in the evening I felt compelled to go check on the five year olds while letting Harley out one last time. As he strolled along to his usual haunts, I walked toward the barn and heard some yelling. The chicken wire cage was being vigorously jerked back and forth.  Finally,  when I was a few feet away, I could make out what they were saying. "_____ locked us in here. HELP! Let us out!!"  My three year old had locked in my five year old daughter and her friend in the chicken coop! When I went inside the house and questioned the three year old, she grinned sheepishly and said she'd locked them up so they didn't follow her!?!  This past week my mom also called me on some behavior I was allowing her to get away with. I'm glad to have a little wake-up call especially when it is by someone I know truly loves us...and when no one has been hurt.
            Honestly, parenting is overwhelming at times for me...especially when I long to really say something to a good friend without being interrupted 50 times. However, this is the job I chose and I am not alone. God has given me a wonderful hubby (and this separation is only temporary) and wonderful friends that are offering to help left and right. For right now, the help I need is a little grace from you while I try different strategies to sort this out.  My lil' tyrant needs some boundaries concerning rude behavior, and occasionally a little more attention when possible. Yes, I know that this too shall pass. Eventually,  she too will learn to stand quietly like the rest while I chat for a few minutes. I'm guessing she may continue with some of her other mischief for a while though,  so you may want to stay away from the chicken coop.

Quack This Way

           We got a pair of mallard ducks at the same time that we got chickens,  and I honestly think my two oldest loved them more than any other animal we have. They spent hours holding them, letting them preen their fuzzy jackets, and cleaning out the water that they swam in (In case you aren't aware of it, ducks poop a LOT!). They even took them for walks around the yard while they waited for their feathers to come in fully.  At first, they used leashes. Eventually,  they realized that all they had to do was quack and walk in front of them...and the ducks would follow them anywhere.
          This week we have been in a holding pattern as we are using a little strategy suggested by our realtor on one house and finishing up inspections on our current house. While we wait, I've been trying to focus the girls on how wonderful it will be to all be together again. They miss being with Daddy, and it is easy for them to get in a negative mindset ("Why does he have to go to work?") vs. a positive mindset ("I can't wait to see him again in a few days"). I feel a bit like the mama duck  because they mirror a lot of what I say. When I express delight over the house we will have, they smile and talk happily about it too. He drove home last weekend, and he is again driving home today.  I'm excited to see him...and the girls are too! Today, we went shopping for his Father's Day present; and the three year old can barely contain her excitement...she already blurted out on the phone what she got him.
           This past week we had the opportunity to go to my mom's house and pick strawberries (and make fresh jam). Sometimes, I get grumpy while I pack up for a trip; but this time I was intentional about the words I said. Instead of focusing on the work of getting things ready, I focused on how nice it would be to see my mom again. I know this could be one of the last times I am there for berry picking, and so I chose to speak positively about it. Guess what? They followed suit and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.  When they were tired and hot from picking berries,  they threw on their swimsuits and sprayed each other with the hose when I suggested it (I had to include a picture of all the berries).
            As the ducks have gotten older and have been released to swim on our pond, they have become more and more wild. They no longer come into our barn at night to sleep, although they still allow one of my daughters to pick them up and hang out by them. They are increasingly dependant on each other and squawk loudly if one has flown off and left them behind.  Initially,  my daughter had decided to catch one when we move in an effort to force the other to be caught as well, but they are beginning to resist even that (she has tried catching one at night, but the other now flies away squawking, not allowing itself to be caught). They are no longer so attached to our home or my girls, but are more attached to each other.
          That is the lesson I am trying to focus on this week...not focusing on our attachment to our current home, but our attachment to each other. Try it and you may be suprised how quickly your ducks follow you when you "quack" and lead the way.

The Horse and The Rider

           One of the things that I think about in the middle of the night is the legacy that I will leave behind. There's a book that my hubby encouraged me to read called "When The Game Is Over, It All Goes Back In The Box". It talks about what actually matters in life, and one of my biggest takeaways from the book was that investing time in your family will always payoff. Your money does you no good when you die and neither does your house. Your children are what carry on your legacy, your traditions, and even your stories. I guess that's one of the reasons I'm glad to have a larger family. That is something that will truly last.
           Father's Day is coming up next weekend, and I was thinking about my own dad who died over 20 years ago. My dad was a guitar playing pastor who sang lots of songs straight from the Bible. I loved going to church in a large meeting room of the YWCA, sitting in a circle of folding chairs, and singing my heart out with thirty or forty other people. I loved sitting next to my dad and holding his hand while he led us in prayer (sitting next to my brother and holding hand was not a good idea...he'd squeeze my fingers so tightly during prayer that l'd cry out loud, warrenting a look that could kill from my mom). One of my most cherished treasures is my dad's Bible that has all the songs we used to sing high-lighted.
            My four month old loves to be sung to, so the other day I began singing songs to him that my dad taught me. This is an easy way to help him memorize scripture while also creating a memory. When a memory of a song we used to sing is triggered in my head, I am not only encouraged by the words I sing; but I am also reminded of my dad. Someday, I want him to read the Bible and hear the song play in his mind when he stumbles upon a scripture that I used to sing to him.
             One of my favorite scripture songs is called "The Horse and The Rider", and it comes from Exodus 15:1-2. Moses and the children of Israel were rejoicing over escaping from the Egyptians by God parting the Red Sea for the Israelites and then closing it back onto their enemies. The verses we used to sing say, “I will sing to the Lord, For He has triumphed gloriously! The horse and its rider He has thrown into the sea! The Lord is my strength and song, And He has become my salvation; He is my God, and I will praise Him; My father’s God, and I will exalt Him." I have sung this over amd over to my son in the past month, and it has encouraged me to no end. It reminds me of how powerful God is...and that He can definitely handle my circumstances.
          On this past Friday, a dear friend sent me a text of the verse, " NOW unto the KING immortal, eternal, invisible. The ONLY wise god be glory and honor forever and ever amen." This triggered the memory of the hymn, "Immortal, Invisible God Only Wise" that I hummed for the rest of the morning...encouraged by God's power. (I went to a Baptist school where I learned all the great hymns as a child) Yesterday,  I was brought to tears by the first stanza of the hymn we sang in church. It felt like a personal message of hope straight to my heart.
            I don't know what you are facing today, but I would encourage you to sing a song of scripture or a favorite hymn you love...even to your own child. It'll lift your spirits and leave a treasure for your child to remember both you and God's word by.
            What is your favorite song? I'd love to hear your comments!

Please, Pass the Ketchup!

         Today is the third Thursday blog hop for Hearts at Home. The topic is "No More Perfect Meals."
I don't know that I even want to talk about this topic. It's embarrassing. I'm a pretty good cook, but I have been greatly demoralized by A) having a new baby B) feeling overwhelmed by all the illness and C) having the creative side of my brain sucked dry by teaching our girls their school lessons for the day (homeschooling has at least one downside).
          The last couple of months have consisted mainly of me getting a main course on the table, and maybe one side...if you're lucky! The main course isn't too bad, but I've pretty much stuck with things I can make without a recipe in front of me...like pizza (at least it's from scratch), spaghetti, or chicken and rice soup (every once in a while it'll be chicken and noodle soup just to keep them guessing). No one has really complained; but when one of the kids doesn't like the meal, I've noticed that they really get into their bedtime snack. My five year old will eat anything if you give her ketchup as a side. My three year old will eat anything my five year old eats because she is at that lovely copycat age. If I keep a large supply of ketchup in the house, I can easily assure two people will eat any meal. My two eldest girls don't say much other than "yum" or "yuck" if they don't like it. They are wary of getting too verbose these days about food...maybe this is because they know I'm likely to blow my fuse if they complain about the meal I made while nursing the baby and teaching math to them. My hubby happily eats what I serve, and I'm very thankful for that.
          Then, there are days like today. Our driveway started flooding yesterday; and by this morning, it was covered. My hubby left a Suburban in case I wanted to try getting out. I made the call to go out for groceries at 9:30am and I'm so glad I did. By 11:30am, parts of our road were covered on our return trip; and by 4pm, our barn was flooded. The girls moved our chickens successfully; and with the help of other neighborhood kids, we moved the lawn mowers to higher ground. It was crazy how quickly the water rushed into our yard after making it over our neighbors road. My hubby left work when I called about it coming over the road, but took him a while to find a road not flooded in order to reach us. So what was our meal tonight? It was meatloaf made by a dear friend a month ago and frozen for us to use on just such an occassion (with a side of canned peaches...see, I told you there is usually one side). So many people have blessed us with meals after the birth of our new son (to read his story click here), which has given our family such a break from my imperfect meals. A couple of weeks ago during an outbreak of strep, another dear friend took my non-germy kids to the library and provided a delicious thanksgiving casserole along with an Easter Candy Dump cake. God knows that we aren't meant to do life alone, and I'm so thankful that this imperfect mama doesn't have to do meals alone either.

What have your meals been like lately? What is your favorite go to meal?  How have you been blessed?
I'd love to hear your comments.

To read more blogs on the blog hop, click here.