In General

Little Man on "Fire Wheel." So named by the Little Man himself, last Christmas.

Note the pink on his stomach - Sister wet some sidewalk chalk and "painted" him.

She got his back, too. Only...with mud. He was great with that. He walked in the house to show off and with every movement chunks of dirt fell to the floor. One day he's going to realize he doesn't have to succumb to his Sister's wishes. It will happen. Soon. Very soon.

Little Man and two of his friends are getting to hang with the Boy Scouts! While too young to officially "join," they are getting to participate. They're "mascots."

To say he is excited and proud would be a terrible understatement! The Little Man is ecstatic!

The Engineer is an Eagle Scout, so he knows all about wearing the Boy Scout uniform. He's told Little Man he can only wear his uniform to Scout meetings and school. So yes, every morning, and I mean every morning, Little Man comes down ready for school, in his uniform. Preciousness? Oh, YES!

In fact, this Little Man is taking Scouting quite seriously. A few days ago we returned home to pouring rain - POURING - and I'd left the dogs out and the gate needed opening. I dreaded the inevitable. As I put the car in park and prepared to be soaked through and through and trampled upon by an excited and muddy great dane, I heard Little Man unbuckle and shout, "I got it Mom!" And he did. He went out there in the pouring rain and despite dogs twice his size, my four year old opened the gate, waited for me to drive through, and then closed the gate and joined us in the garage. Soaked. He is going to be one FINE catch!

I made PW's cinnamon rolls. Oh my. I omitted the maple flavoring (cause I didn't have any) and subbed with a double shot of decaf espresso. 

The Engineer and I might or might not have eaten most of a pan in one sitting...two nights in a row. (Like, a pan a night, twice.) One recipe made NINE round pans. Score!

And BIG news for Sister!!! She completed the first grade Sing, Spell, Read, & Write curriculum!!! 

Last Friday she took her last test! 

We are SO proud of her! And so...we begin afresh!

The Engineer and I were stoked when UPS delivered a 24 pound box. We knew the contents! Each of these books are part of the curriculum we began this past Monday with Sister and Little Man. I will definitely be sharing more about this in the near future. Suffice it to say, with all this newness, I am still very much figuring things out and trying to establish the best routine and order for our family. Even in the midst of that process, which can be really frustrating to me, we are LOVING what and how we are learning. LOVING IT!

Here is Sister's "to grow into box." The pickin's pretty slim. As I combed through the children's closets, putting away what they'd outgrown, boxing giveaway clothes, and sorting through clothing in our tubs of "to grow into" clothing, I was overwhelmed with God's perfect provision. We have been generously blessed with friends who, at just the right time, have showered us with clothing their children have outgrown. It's often in brand new condition. And because Sister's box held very little, we got to do a tiny bit of shopping. After looking over everything she has, we determined a pair of jeans would complete her wardrobe. JJ surprised her with brown clogs trimmed in fur - the perfect addition! Though, with the new hair cut, the jeans, and clogs...she's looking so grown!

As I worked through the great clothing switch-a-roo, Little Bit was my constant companion. A side-kick of sorts. Her specialties: knocking over perfectly folded stacks of clothes, "sorting" clothing that was already perfectly sorted, ramming her doll stroller into every stack and tub, and trying on anything that sparked her fancy...

Hence the bathing suit! Seconds later, she'd painted the front of it with blueberry yogurt. Clever girl.

I'd been visiting with a neighbor and upon stepping foot in our yard, heard the children calling me. Where, oh where did I find them? Uh huh. Sister up there in her cowboy boots with her purse. Little Man was a little too fearless for me. After climbing the ladder myself to say "hello," I went inside. I couldn't watch 'em climb down. 

Happy weekend, y'all!

Chop Chop

Have I told y'all you're wonderful? Thank you for your continued sweet and thoughtful comments and emails. Y'all are precious. Who ever thought bloggging would become such a source of encouragement?  Y'all rock. My heart still yearns, but the Lord is also graciously working, making me a little bit more content with where we are right now. For that, I am thankful. And please, keep praying for us!

It's been a whirlwind of a week and a half! 

Sister and I have been growing our hair out for a looooong time. We'd planned to get it chopped at the same time and donate. But, Sister kept chickening out. A few months ago, I went on and got mine whacked. It was too long. It was time. Twelve inches...gone. I am loving the shorter length. Definitely cooler for the summer. I'm not so crazy about the time required to style it...so I fix it twice a week. Usually. (Wednesdays and Sundays) - The poor Engineer! I should probably do something about that! You know, make the effort to look good for my man! (Ok, now I'm feeling convicted.)

So Friday afternoon, Sister was in tears as I brushed out the tangles. An all-too-familiar scene.

For the one hundred and ninety-ninth time I said, "If you would just get it cut you wouldn't have all these tangles," expecting to hear back for the one hundred and ninety-ninth time, "No! I want to grow it out a little bit longer." BECAUSE...a certain boy said he wasn't sure he'd like her hair cut short..

But instead, she said, "Let's go NOW and get it cut!"

But "NOW" wasn't a possibility for the lady who cuts our hair. So I did the only sane thing. I did what any mother who's been brushing out tangles to tears - trying to pick her battles - would do. 

I rubber-banded all that hair into mini ponytails (to get the most length for donating purposes). I measured...9 inches...I took the scissors, and I CUT! I can still hear the scissors slicing their way through her thick hair.

And she giggled. 

And kept saying, "Oh Mom! Oh Mom!"

Nine inches of healthy, beautiful hair. She's donating to Pantene Beautiful Lengths and hopes it will go to "a mommy who needs it!"

Just moments after, Little Man and The Engineer entered the bathroom declaring Little Man was ready for a buzz. He is darling and I am happy he is happy and feels grown up, but oh, how I miss that adorable bowl cut!

We shampooed after the cut...

Little Man shampooed, too, and then tried to hide in the closet so I wouldn't take his picture.

While all that was going on, Sister slipped upstairs to get ready for dinner. She came down with GREEN eyeshadow, a light pink top, white cropped sweater, her purse, jean shorts, and her camo cowgirl boots. I was speechless. What to say? I did suggest she remove the green eyeshadow before we headed to dinner.

And...I dropped the ball on this one. Sweet Amelia from meandmybrightsides did a little blurb on our casa. A week ago. She said some really sweet things. Thanks for having us Amelia!

Happy Wednesday, y'all!

Good Enough?

I am happy to report our church now has a Nursing Mothers Room fully equipped, not only with rocking chairs and a changing table, but also with SOUND! 

You can tend to baby and hear the sermon without interrupting anyone and best of all, without anyone interrupting you! (Which may or may not have happened to me on, ahem, more than one occasion by teenage boys. Not sure who was more shocked...me or them?)   

Many hands went into putting that room together, but it was The Engineer (and I am now told a friend, too) who crawled through the rafters and ran the wire. The Engineer did the calculations and saved the church a chunk of change by wiring a volume knob into the speakers. He was the brains behind the sound. And he didn't just run wire to the Nursing Mothers' Room, he ran it to the nursery and installed speakers there, too. Many said it could not be done. He has done it. Boo-ya. (Is that bad?) And I am thrilled and hope it will be a blessing to all those mamas tending their babies! Now he's been asked to wire for sound in the narthex...

Mama gave Little Man two giant metal dump trucks for Christmas a few years ago. Both have stood the test of time. The children like to play "wheel chair" in the big yellow truck. 

Which is awesome. And then someone decides to tie a rope to the back of the dump truck. This is awesome, too. But then that someone got a little over zealous and in their excitement and attempt at making a turn, slung Little Bit right out and across the driveway. A little scratch on her cheek and a big bruise on her forehead and lots and lots of tears later and she's good as new. 

No more ropes on the dump truck. Period.

When I was a little girl my grandmother (I think) gave me a record player for my birthday. I LOVED that record player. A few years ago I took it from my childhood home and brought it home to my children.

Can I just say books on record ROCK. The children listen while I make lunch. And the excitement of watching the record spin..wondering how the needle reads the record...laughing when we speed it up and the voices sound wonky...it's quite captivating for all three children. I call that wonderful.

Since writing this post about a month ago, I've been hit head on with some hard stuff. I read this (by a friend) and it was like all of the sudden everything crystalized and I realized something. Something hard. Is this whole journey, this wanting for more children and having the Lord close the door again and again, month after month after month...is He exposing something deep in my heart? Something I didn't know was there?

And how to put it into words...this is where I vomit my heart all over the blog. I have a plan. We have a plan. We want more children. In my mind I see how great it would be. I imagine what life would be like with another child and it is hard, but it is good. The Lord is clear in His word that children are a gift from Him and that they are a blessing.

He only gives good and perfect gifts. Why, why won't He give us more children? And I try to speak truth to myself. To remind my heart that is aching that God is good and what He does is good. 

I go to my favorite Psalm...Psalm 34...and I read, Oh taste and see that the Lord is good! Oh fear the Lord, you His saints, for those who fear the Lord lack no good thing. Blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him! And my heart cries out. He is good, but I feel I am lacking. We are lacking a good thing. Our family feels incomplete...like something or rather, someone is missing.

And then deep in my soul I begin to see it. To realize. To ask the hard question. Is God still good when He doesn't give me what I want? When what I want He says is a blessing? A good thing? But still, He says no.

But more than that, do I really trust that He is working all things together for my good? (Romans 8:28) And even more than that, do I trust, am I resting in His plan being better than mine? Do I really believe that He is enough? That His plan is good enough?

Because I have my plan and it seems really, really good. When He isn't giving me what I want, what I think is best, can I submit and bow before Him believing that this, His will for us, is really the best? Better than anything I could ask or imagine?

And when I see baby legs kicking, pumping up and down, and I watch as an infant is baptized, when I smell that newborn smell on a four week old, and when I see my own baby almost as long as her crib, do I...can I...am I resting in Him? Content?

Am I breathing in these days and living and embracing His perfectly sovereign will? Or am I whining that I want something different?

It is disbelief. I am struggling to swallow...struggling to swallow that He is enough. That His plan is more than sufficient. It is good. And it hurts. And I want to rejoice in His perfect sovereignty. In His goodness. In His will.

And does rejoicing mean I give up my hope? And why, when I've begged Him to change my desires has He not? No, the hope is still there, but to rejoice in His perfect plan while my heart aches...I can't do that. Not in my own strength. Isn't that where I cry out because I lack faith? Where the Holy Spirit gives the gift of faith? And brings my heart to a place where I can rest contented in the shadow of the Almighty?

I want to be in that place. That place of knowing deep in my bones, in my soul, with all my heart, that even when He doesn't give me what I want, He is still good. I want to be in that place where I love where we are, and I don't waste precious time wishing and wanting and thinking..."one day when..."

The last time I had to swallow something so hard was when my parents' divorce was finalized. Coming to grips with the fact that God, in His perfect sovereignty, could have changed hearts. He could have softened my father. And He chose not to. That realization was painful to swallow. Again, something I wanted so badly, and He said no. 

And so as all of this is dawning on me. And I am realizing that I have to stop and think before I can truthfully, with all my heart say that He is good and what He does is good. God doesn't change and His ways are not our ways.

And I look at my husband, my precious, precious husband, and I take in the faces of our three wonderful children and with tears, I ask, "is this enough?" Is God enough? Is what He gives enough? And choking back the sobs, I have to say "yes." Yes. My heart hurts and longs deeply. How do I reconcile a bleeding heart with the deep soul knowledge that God is enough? That His plan is good enough. Rich enough? That His grace is sufficient? That He is perfect and what He does is good. And I cling to the cross. I wrap my hands around its base and bow my face to the ground and I am weak and I am sinful. I remember Job 38 and God putting Job in his place, asking, "Who are you, oh man, to question Me?" And I pray and plead with God to give me the strength because I am unable, that His Spirit will enable me to speak, to pray with every fiber of my being, "even if it means three is it, not my will, but Yours be done." And my flesh and my spirit wrestle.