Encouragement

Just in case you've recently chopped off all your hair and began grieving even before you left the salon, here's some encouragement for you:

This is Addie 14 months ago.

And this was Addie a few weeks ago:

When her hair is straight, it's a scant inch above her waist. It's amazing what a year can do!  Especially if you're shorter than three feet tall.

And if, when you woke up this morning and looked at your new Liza Minelli-style haircut and wanted to throw up, here's something to cheer you up:See? Terrible hair, but they're still cute. Even if they are sitting inside the fridge.  Now don't you feel better?  

I'm always happy to help! :)

*Photo of the boys is from two years ago--I had a major computer miracle I'll tell you about later, but let's just say I'm enjoying looking at old photos I thought were lost forever.

Storm

I don't really like the calm before the storm. Chalk it up to living in Southern Illinois, Tennessee, and Texas the majority of my life, but I've been in too many tornadoes to trust the calm. Our neighbors here in Texas, newly moved from Virginia, spent their first tornado standing in their driveway, staring at the green skies with mouths open, jaws dropped. I spent that tornado in my bathtub. Seeing that our cars, also in the driveway, were totaled from the hail, I think I chose the better route. Experience is good like that.

This morning, while the rest of the family sleeps, Scout and I are camped out in the dark great room. He's shivering uncontrollably, and I'm reminding him that it's just rain, and that thunder is fun. My kids aren't scared at all of thunderstorms, possibly because I've passed on my love of booming thunder and cracks of lightning to them. I must've not sent a clear message to the dog, who's currently sitting on my foot and wedging his head into my thigh.  I wish I could tell him that he's not going to die in a thunderstorm.  Well, I could, but he won't believe me.  Dumb dog.

I admitted to Scout that it's not the storm that bothers me; it's the calm before it.  I don't trust it. There's something in the not knowing that makes me nervous, and I'd rather see the storm crashing around me, and see the size of the hail.  I want evidence that it's not that bad.  You never really know before it happens, what you're going to get.

Trust is a lot like waiting out a thunderstorm.  It's not the worst of the trial that wears me down, it's the waiting in the wings to see how bad it's going to be.  As Addison's third birthday nears, I think back to the year she was born and diagnosed with awful things, and I realize that the first few months of waiting were the worst.  The tornadoes that were predicted haven't come, and I wonder if they will at all.  It certainly doesn't look that way.  Heart repaired, kidneys doing fine, no problems at all developmentally.  The predictions appear to have been all wrong.  If anything, she's smart as a whip, and sassy to boot.  She has good hair, too.  (I just threw that in for good measure.  If I could feel prideful about something, it would be that her hair's gorgeous, except that she didn't get it from me.  That's all from her daddy.)

As I sit and look out the window at the gathering storm, I wonder if I'll need candles.  Or a bigger savings account to cover a hail damage deductible.  Will my tomato plants survive the wind?  Will our falling-down shed?  There's nothing to do but wait, with the panting dog, and remind myself that the waiting is the hardest, and all is likely to be fine, that thunderstorms are exciting.  And even if it's not fine, that'll end up okay, too.  Having faith in God provides a wonderful resting place for all my worries, because I know that "all things work together for the good of those who love Him, according to His purpose."  (Romans 8:28)  Even if the roof falls in, or the syndrome resurfaces, or our finances collapse, or we break a new bone every month, He'll be there, knowing what's ahead, and not being afraid.  

I'm a lot like the dog.  I shiver and hide, afraid of what's coming, feeling nervous each time I write on the first page of a new journal--what if something really bad happens in the future?  And God is next to me, telling me it's going to be fine, and that I'll be fine, because He's not going to let anything happen to me that He can't take care of.  But I don't listen.  Dumb me.

The rain is here now, and even though the dog's panting is picking up, I'm pouring a cup of coffee, content to sit here in the dark and watch the storm.  He might not feel better, but I do.  

Odds 'n Ends

*We're juggling a 9 month old, 2.9 year old, 4.5 year old, 4.9 year old, and 7 year old, so I haven't had time to post--or breathe, actually--since Wednesday. (Sidenote: Grayson fell off one step onto his face, for those of you who wondered. We realized tonight that not only did he bust his lip and get a goose egg on his forehead, but he also blacked both eyes slightly. We never do anything half-way around here. We've since banned any going up or down stairs, as well as climbing over fences, which we found him doing later the same day. It's no wonder my kids break bones; they think they're made of rubber.)

*Our dog Shadow is eating everything in sight, which is making me insane. He'd gnaw off his own leg if it wouldn't hurt him, I swear. He and I watched "Marley & Me" in an effort to find his antics charming, but it failed miserably.I will say he had excellent attention skills every time Marley was on the screen, though.

*Speaking of dogs, our good dog (Scout) has thunderstorm anxiety, and this is him hiding in the dining room cabinet. Unfortunately for him, tomorrow we'll have another "Rain Event" (Not joking--that's really what weather people in Texas call it), so he's going to go a little crazy again. Basically I spray peppermint onto his paws to calm him, tell him it's just rain, and try to be thankful that it's his only flaw. At least we live in Texas--after June, it won't rain again for months. He'd be in trouble if we lived in the Northwest!


*Our little garden is sprouting, and I feel unreasonably excited about seeing things grow. It's like magic, and I keep being surprised when something else pops through the soil. Imagine how excited we're going to be when we actually get to eat something from it!

*The chickens have gotten big enough to spend part of the day outside, and our neighbor's horses are smitten. They stick their heads over the fence, almost nose to beak, with the chickens, for literally hours on end. I wonder if they're planning a mass prison break? Even the mini donkeys like the chickens. We're hoping to see some eggs out of our Delawares in the next month or so. We already have customers--now we just need eggs!

*I'm finding out that little girls like to color. And that they'll sit still while doing it. This is like heaven after having two boys who think colored pencils make good swords until they're like, four years old. A two year old who'll sit (or sprawl) to color for more than five minutes? Almost as good as coffee.

So that's what's going on around here. A little of this, and a little of that. When we've gotten more sleep, I'll write a more coherent post, but this is the best I can do right now. Those of you with 5 children 7 and under, my hat's off to you. Personally, I'm beat. But it's family, so it's all good! :)

Day 366

Evidently we didn't stop the streak; we just started over:If you saw my expression right now, it looks pretty much the same.

So thank you for all of your stories from yesterday; it gives me hope we might in fact survive my children's childhood!

It's Always Something

Just keeping count:

1. April 21st, 2008: Caiden punctured his head on the stair railing. CareNow visit.
2. June 15th, 2008: Pace embedded a fish hook in his calf. CareNow visit.
3. June 16th, 2008: Grayson slit his wrist open at church. CareNow visit. Lots of stitches.
4. July 2008: Addie broke her leg in two places. Still don't know how. CareNow, then ortho. Big pink cast.
5. August 2008: Caiden hit his head on the sink in his bathroom and got knocked out. Pediatrician, then CT scan. Mild concussion, and a lump that'll never go away. He calls it his "second nose."
6. September 2008: Addie stepped barefoot on a nail in the trailer. Pediatrician visit.
   
7. February 27th, 2009: Addie slipped and landed on her elbow. Broke it. ER, then ortho. Big pink cast. *Told the ortho dr. our goal is not to see him again this year.
8. April 7, 2009: Caiden was spinning in the great room, fell and split his chin open. CareNow, and Dermabond to hold it back together. (By this time, CareNow recognizes us at the door.)
9. April 20th, 2009: Grayson was playing on the bed and fell off. Broke his leg and his foot. 6 broken bones total. Ortho visit. *Ortho dr. grins when he walks into our room. (By this time, his wife is planning on new drapes in the vacation home. They love our business.) Big blue cast.
10. Well, nothing so far today. But it's only 8 a.m.
    

For the record, that's NINE injuries in 364 days. We have officially become "THAT family." You know, the one everybody else talks about and is secretly glad they're not.

To top it off, Grayson told the doctor yesterday that his cousin had a cast "because my aunt pulled his arm out and it fell off." For the record, my nephew has nursemaid's elbow, and it didn't fall off, and he didn't get a cast. But there's no point in explaining that to the office staff. They probably wouldn't believe me if I tried.

If bad luck really follows in threes, I think we're way overdue for some peace and quiet. But we all know that's not likely, is it? Some people are afraid of dying; I'm starting to be a little afraid of living. But I can say it's never dull around here, and I guess that counts for something! My mom is convinced mine is the only family on earth who has this many accidents and injuries that happen to them. So for my own peace of mind--and hers--if you have personal experience in the Fluke Injury Department to this degree, please tell me. We can form a virtual support group, or something.

In the meantime, we have family coming to visit tomorrow for a week, and I have a (very cranky) invalid to tend to, so I need to get busy. If you feel like praying a little extra for us today, I'll take it. I'm pretty sure we could use it.

The Porch

I've always wanted a back porch, where I could (theoretically) read books and sip sweet tea. In my mind's eye, my porch would be full of cozy things, and have a beautiful view, so I could wile away the hours in peace and solitude. Then I had children, and I realized that nobody with small children actually reads during daylight hours, but it's still a nice plan. In my old house, my entire back yard was about the size of a nice porch, so an actual porch was out of the question.

But then we moved, and lo and behold, there's a porch here! The previous owner had stuffed it with old appliances and cardboard boxes, so I actually never even stepped foot on it until we moved in. And until last week, it was empty except for the month our chicks lived out there, which just covered it in dust and made it even more unusable.

Some purchases off Craig's List and from the HomeGoods store, a lot of elbow grease, and some blood later (I'm being serious. I actually stabbed/cut/nicked myself several times while sewing. Clearly I'm not cut out for anything heavy duty.), and I have a porch I love:

Oh, hold on a second. "Afters" are always better with their "Before" counterparts. Here's the "Before" again:


And here's the "After," same view:
Another shot from before, looking down the opposite direction:
And now, all decorated:

It's amazing what some paint, furniture, and cushions will do! The "Sweet Potato Pie" sign is in honor of my husband, who introduced me to the dish when we married. Pretend the rocker on the right has cushions. They're still in my sewing room, unfinished.

A little corner for game playing or fried-chicken eating:

I found the Peaches sign a few months ago and bought it, not sure what to do with it, but I loved it. It became the inspiration for the rest of the porch. The farmhouse style is a perfect fit.

Here's a close up of the loveseat. It's rattan, bought off Craig's List, and after three coats of Charleston Green spray paint, newly-covered cushions, and a few throw pillows, it's much-improved. The pillows aren't done (Actually, that cherry one belongs on the chair. ), but I already love it.

The view of the back door. Those boxes on the wall need something in them--any ideas?

This isn't a very good photo, but you can see the bamboo matchstick shades, hanging planters, and little framed embroidery I hung up. I'm hoping the shades will keep the dust down some.

It was a long week, full of painting and sewing and installing, but I think it was well worth the time and effort. We have a porch we can enjoy, and now that the project is mostly finished I can (theoretically) curl up in a rocker and read to my heart's content! Or, you know, plan the next project. :)

*And the answer is yes, my husband loved it all, right down to the floor.

Sneak Peek of the Sneaky Plans

I had a porch with a nice, regular wood floor.

We were going to stain it, but then I saw a photo in a recent Southern Living of a fun wood floor. And so I got busy:

First we painted it two coats of cream.

Then I made a template and got out a few tools.

Some blue painter's tape, three coats of soft black,

and we're on our way to having a fun wood floor.

Caiden and I love it.

But the question is, does my husband like it?

The porch project is finished, and I'll have pictures and the answer to that, tomorrow!

In the meantime, I have some porch sitting to do. :)

Easter Photos

All three together

Stopping to smell the roses

We need one more in between Caiden and Grayson; then we'd have true stair steps!

Happy in her new Easter dress

Maybe my favorite photo of her yet?

I think Grayson was hearing a word from the Lord.  Or watching an airplane.  It could go either way with him!

Now see, Mom, who says I don't send you pictures of the kids?

Sneaky Plans

(Before)

I'm popping in for only a tiny little minute to say I haven't forgotten about you, but I've been temporarily sidelined from my regular life.  No, we haven't broken any bones or busted any chins.  And no, nobody's sick.  (Of course, now that I've written that, somebody will start projectile vomiting in the next ten minutes.  Life works that way, you know?)

I'm sidelined because Caiden and I are working on a T.O.P. Secret Project.  Okay, so it's not so top secret:  I'm decorating our screened-in porch.  But it's top secret because I haven't let Pace in on any of the details; only that I'm painting the floor, and that he has to stay out until the big reveal.  That's all he knows.

Well, okay, so he also knows that I bought some wicker furniture off Craig's List a while back.  And he knows that I'm recovering the cushions (They're not only navy and mauve floral, but they also smell like fried rice.).  But that's really all he knows.  

He doesn't know the colors, or what I'm doing to the floor (It's so fabulous that I want to sleep out there!), or any of my other sneaky ideas.  Caiden does, because he's not only great at keeping secrets, but he's also the only one who doesn't have to nap here, so he's awake when I'm working on it.  Which is great, since I can get him to run back and forth, bringing me the camera or cookies or more painter's tape.  I love having a 7 year old.

My goal is to have it completely done by the end of this weekend, and I think that as long as I only do school, laundry, and meals, we should be good by midnight, Sunday.  No play dates, other projects, or distractions.  I only have a few hours a day to work, and I have to maximize my time.  Although, I have to be honest; I just reserved a bunch of books at the library, and they're already coming in, and I feel the need to hunker down and read something really engrossing.  Except that if I show some restraint, I could do that on my newly-decorated porch, come Monday.  Patience, patience, Sarah!  Something I'm terrible at, by the way.  I'm trying to force myself not to put out any of the decor or any of the fun stuff until all the grunt work is done.  It's hard, though!

So since my husband (sometimes) reads my blog, I can't post any photos.  BUT--I will when it's all done!   I already called my mom and told her that if she wants to copy my floor idea, I'd be happy to help her.  It wasn't very fun, and it took several days to complete, but the outcome is completely worth it.  I have visions of rocking on the porch, sipping sweet tea, flipping through Southern Living magazine, and fanning myself like Scarlett O'Hara.  The problem is, I can only do that through May.  After that, it's too hot to sit out on the porch again until October.  You can see why I'm so motivated to hurry up!

Anyway, that's where I'll be this week.  As I type this, my hands are green like the Wicked Witch of the West, my forefingers are blistered and shaking (Anybody guess what I did today?), and I have five cushions and multiple pillows calling my name.  I'm keeping my eyes fixed on the desired result, knowing that it'll be worth it once it's done.

I just wonder if we could all eat peanut butter sandwiches and wear the same set of clothes every day this week?  Because I could get done a lot faster, if we could.  If all goes well (and nobody wants any elaborate meals or lots of clean laundry), I'll have "After" photos for you next Monday!

Happy Easter!

"For I remember it is Easter morn,
And life and love and peace are all new born."
~Alice Freeman Palmer

I Saw a Quilt

on her blog a while back, and I loved it. So I copied it. Here it is, in stages:

Selecting fabric, entirely from my stash. The cream on top is from a flat sheet of Grayson's that he never used. Pardon the empty picture frame. Am I the only person who does that?
Cutting triangles, all 256 of them.
Sewing the triangles into squares.
Laying them out, trying to decide.
Sewing each row.
Then connecting the rows into panels, then finally all together.
Pin basting
it to the back. The outer green is a sheet from Ikea.
My binding basket, during TV watching at night. Pardon the yarn. How did that get in there?
All done!

Free-motion quilted in light pink thread, for an instant loved feeling.

Thank you, Amanda Jean, for the inspiration!

Just Another Day

I'm sitting here tonight, "watching" some show on the National Geographic Channel with Pace, wondering why I'm on the computer when I could be doing something else. There's an allure to the computer that mystifies me, but I'm highly susceptible to it. You know what I mean, since you're here reading this, when you could be doing something else, too, right? I don't know what it is about reading blogs, Facebook, etc. at night, but it sucks me in!

I'm tired lately. I've been sleeping in until around 8 a.m. (Thank heavens for boys who'll stay in their bedroom until then!), but by about 9 p.m. I'm finished for the night. Except of course I stay up, yawning in front of my open laptop. I'm a glutton for punishment. If I could go to bed early just one or two nights in a row, I'd be a new woman! I used to roll my eyes when my mom would tell me she was "eternally tired." I thought it was drama. Now I know better; it's called Motherhood. It's not that the kids keep you up so late; it's that after the kids go to bed, you want to do something fun! Or at least get all the clean underwear and socks put away. Either way, a few hours of not being called, whined at, or needed is a blessed thing, and I succumb to it nightly. So now I, too, am "eternally tired."

But today, I have a real reason for it. Caiden and I have been working hard to establish a garden, as frugally as possible, and that involves digging beds and turning compost and hauling wheelbarrow loads of leaves. My fingernails are black, my back aches, and I might even be slightly sunburned, but by midsummer we should be eating out of our garden! If the raccoon will quit digging in it, that is. I constructed a sort-of fence around it today, to see if that helps. I found a trash can that'll keep the raccoon out of the goats' feed, but I sure don't know how to keep it out of my garden! I guess it's only fair--he/she can't get to the chickens and can't get to the goats' feed, so maybe it figures I owe it a little nibble out of the garden?

And we're also trying to get out screened-in porch cleaned up and ready for enjoying. We sprayed off chicken dust and spiders today, and soon I'll start painting the floor. I don't know why I take on these projects; sometimes I think that if I could just quit starting new projects, I could enjoy a clean house and full cookie jar. But I have a vision for a great porch, and I bought some rattan furniture cheap off Craig's List, so if I can recover the cushions, hang baskets of flowers, get the floor painted, and find matchstick blinds the right size, it'll be perfect. Re-reading that list makes me realize that's sort of a big project. And I need it done by April 21st, because Pace's sister and her family are coming here to visit us, and we haven't seen them in almost three years because they're missionaries in Australia, so it would be terrific if we could enjoy hanging out with them on the porch. Pace and I are nothing it not optimistic about our ability to complete projects in a limited timeframe! I'll keep you posted. :)

As a sidenote, I finished my scrap quilt, love it deeply, and am so sad that it's too small to be a napping quilt for me. So I lovingly, sacrificially gave it to Addie, who promptly refused to sleep with it today, preferring the one my mom made her. I calmly, gently, smilingly told her that I spent nearly 40 hours making that quilt, and she was going to love it, whether she wanted to or not. So she slept on top of it, as a compromise. That's what I get for thinking my mom was being dramatic when she said she was always tired. I get a daughter who's a stick of dynamite with a bow in her hair. But she has beautiful eyes, and she looks like my husband, so I'm generally a sucker.

So that's what's going on around here. I have pictures from our rabbit-under-the-bed-at-midnight experience, as well as one of Caiden's chin now that it's missing a huge chunk, as well as the you-will-love-it-because-I-slaved-over-it quilt, but now it's after 10 p.m., and not even the socks and underwear have been folded. And the raccoon's probably nibbling on my basil as I type. Off I go to bed, or at least to clean out my fingernails.

Just another day in my life. :)

Prayer Request

Erin is one of my oldest and dearest friends. Her sister-in-law, Jen, is also one of my oldest and dearest. We were best friends and roommates in college, in each other's weddings, and have stayed in touch despite the miles between us. Erin and Jen were both highly influential in my life as a college-aged Christian, and I have deep love and respect for both of them. Jen's husband, Jason, was one of Pace's close friends in college, as well.

Erin and Jen's in-laws were hit in a crosswalk at the seminary in New Orleans and are both in very bad shape. Their mother-in-law's condition is critical. You can read about it more on Erin's blog. Please be in prayer for the entire family, and visit her blog here to let her know.

Thank you for loving on somebody I love so much.

A Happy Windowsill

Left to right: weeds, daffodils, rosemary

The Week in Pictures

UPDATE: Grayson's procedure went well, and he's home and doing fine! Thanks to all of you who prayed for him. Now if we can just get the wayward cat home, and the wheezing goat to stop, we'll be in the clear. :) 11:53 AM, Friday


Monday Addison got her cast off, hooray! Her arm, which was already really tiny, is now even tinier, and it makes me want to wrap her up in an entire body cast, to protect her from any more breaks. You might say that'd be going overboard, except today at church one of the other moms sent Addie over to my classroom because she "couldn't get Addie to stop jumping off of the ball pit," and she was afraid she'd break another bone. That child is fearless, bouncy, and fragile. It's not an ideal combination, unless you're an orthopedic surgeon and get to go on nice vacations thanks to fearless, bouncy, fragile children. But for today, at least, she's all in one piece.


Tomorrow I'll be taking Grayson to the hospital for his surgery--ear tubes in, adenoids out. He's terribly excited, since he's the only family member never to have had surgery. I've mentioned before that he's also a hypochodriac, not out of fear, but out of desire: he'd really love to have a medical history to brag about. So far all he can come up with is that he's allergic to cantaloupe, and he tells anybody who'll listen. (He really is, though.) Tomorrow he'll get his wish. I'm only a little nervous, mainly because he's never been under anesthesia. My real fear is that I'll get lost trying to find the medical facility at 5:30 in the morning.



This week has been full, between doctor's appointments and school and all the normal stuff. We also had our cat run off, diagnosed Roxy the goat with pneumonia and I had to give her a shot, found a baby bunny hiding under our bed at 12:30 in the morning, and planted the first box of our new garden. I'm also working diligently on some things to give away to those of you I'd promised long ago.


And I'm trying to finish a quilt and also Addie's Easter dress. So it's no wonder I'm sitting here exhausted tonight, wishing I could sleep in, but instead I'll be up before 5 a.m. In my world, anything before 6 a.m. is still "night," and anything before 5 a.m. is plain crazy.

I'm off to bed in a little bit, after I eat some guacamole. Nothing can boost my morale like tableside guacamole. If you think of us tomorrow, Grayson could use a prayer or two. And so could O.C. and Roxy, if you're inclined to pray for cats and goats.