The Not So Little Things

I have the best six children ev.er. Daily they make me grin, giggle or gasp.

While I am completely convinced of our calling to homeschool and my responsibility to be a stay-at-home mom, sometimes I forget the most wonderful part of these two jobs.

Sometimes I get lost in the business and the busyness of running a home. The laundry, the dishes, the clutter, the lessons, the ... well, the work side of these jobs.

But there is more to those jobs. Something just as important.

Sometimes I forget the play. The play as manifested in my attitude and the atmosphere I create. Attitude and atmosphere add up. The add up to what my home is really like. What defines our family. My attitude and the atmosphere of my home are created by little things. Very important little things. The little things of every day.

I forget that the little things are what actually make up my life and the little moments with me are what make up my children's childhood.

A childhood is defined by atmosphere, not by the activities like dance lessons, or museum trips, or Disney World . A childhood is formed by the attitude that permeates their daily life, not attainments like Xboxes, or cell phones, or Webkinz. A childhood is formed by the millions and millions of little moments. Actually, they aren't really such little things.

I've realized I haven't been fostering beautiful little moments lately.
That's going to change. I have six beautiful blessings I love. It's my responsibility to create beautiful childhoods for them. It's not just my job, it's my joy.


(Wouldn't it be a joy to help a child without parents come home to joy? Or help a child come home to parents who want to cultivate joy in a home?)

Thanksgiving Week

In November of 2002, a friend and I heard about a book put out by Family Life. It was a book telling the original Thanksgiving story. The real story. It was a book to read together as a family during the week of Thanksgiving. Reading His-story together! I couldn't pass it up. This year will be our seventh year reading it together. Barbara Rainey, the author, took time to really think through each night's readings. There are two options: read everything or read just the bold print. The bold is enough of the story to really get the gist, so it's perfect for younger kids (which was her plan). There are six readings, but we never remember until Sunday night, so we read double up. Sometimes two a night, sometimes we save the last one for Thanksgiving morning. Since this year we're eating at a home that must be cleaned and it's not mine, we'll probably read the final segment in the morning.

It's a story of God's Providence.

To help the story stick in our kids' memories, we reenact what has been read aloud that night. Hil.ar.i.ous.

Pilgrims puking. Sailors mocking. People starving.

Massasoit. Squanto. Three Williams.

The bear grease. The corn. The feast.

All of it.

It's become a wonderful tradition. It really helps us remember the focus of this season and prepares us for Thanksgiving Day in a very special way.

It really is quite a story.

I hope this week you are able to take time to really think through all the ways He has provided for you.

I bet your story really is quite a story too.

Bring Them Home

Millions of children are in need of something foundational.
Orphans need families, loving foundations.

I'd like to continue sharing ways we can fulfill the Scriptural call to look after/care for orphans, per James 1:25 (this post introduced the topic and this post was next in the series).

Today I'd like to suggest that we consider helping others adopt. We may not be called to adopt into our own family, but helping someone else bring an orphan home is such a wonderful way to minister to orphans. Putting them in a family.

I have two big frustrations with the adoption process. The first centers around the foster to adopt system here in America: babies sometimes get taken away from the foster family who was trying to adopt. The second deals with both kinds of adoption, but especially international adoptions: the cost involved (egad!!).

While I can't figure out how to change the foster to adopt system, I can suggest a way to help with the financial side of adoption, international and domestic. Adopting is expensive. Foster to adopt is much, much less, but it can still be a burden on a family.

Foster to adopt costs about $3,000.
Independent adoptions $8,000-40,000
Intercountry adoptions $7,000-40,000 (This low figure seems too low to me. I haven't seen anything under $20,000, but I haven't investigated for long.)

A family may also be willing to add to their family through adoption, but the financial side of it is a big hurdle. I have been told again and again by those who have adopted that once you know you are supposed to do it, the money comes. It often comes in all kinds of crazy and amazing ways, but the money comes.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to be a part of one of those crazy and amazing ways?
Wouldn't it be dreamy to know you helped an orphan find his/her family?
Wouldn't it be awesome to help a family bring their child home?

Many adopting families start home based businesses to help build the funds for their adoption. They start Etsy shops. They make ornaments. They design t-shirts. The get very creative. They start blogs to journal their story.

Here are some families I know about who are gathering funds for their adoptions:

Our Hearts are in Africa

Bringing Love Home

Nations Around Our Table

No Greater Joy Mom (this one is urgent)

Over the Moon with Joy

Riggs Family

Twiet Confetti

Adopted Shirt


We could buy their wares.

We could donate funds.

We could help bring babies/children home.

To Better Yourself IV

Sometimes I have ideas, moments or thoughts that I want to share with you, but I don't think they would make a good blog post all alone. All together though... they'd qualify as a blog post.

Today, I'm sharing timeless wisdom and some random moments with you. To better yourself (see how thoughtful I am?) and to let you know me better (well, it's my blog). I've done this before. And before. And even before. So, today you get To Better Yourself IV.

1. If I believed in such things, I'm pretty sure I could submit an idea for a biological warfare weapon: my son's socks. I am stricken dumb by the truth of how bad my ten year old son's socks stink regularly. My husband has told me on more than one occasion that the definition of insanity is expecting a different result from the same actions . Clearly I'm insane because every few nights I say, "What is that smell? Seriously? That's not really your socks is it [The Boy]?! It can't be."

2. When you go in to have your lip waxed and the lady who speaks little English says, "Brows?" Feel free to mumble, "Uh... yeah. Them too." When she then points to your chin and says, "Here too?", be kind to her. She's either A) trying to be helpful B) trying to make a living or C) completely socially inept. It would be natural to try to lift your spirits by having ice cream after your torture session. Don't fight it.

3. I'm a bit concerned about myself in regards to how I define "fun". Why? Well, because I think cloth diapers are fun. Seriously. We went back to cloth a month or so ago and I'm lovin' it. Actually, I have to fight the urge to buy even more cool diapers. Yes, I think diapers are cool. There are so many options. So many soft for the tushie options. So many easy to use options. So many super for the environment options. It's entertaining to me. While I haven't purchased any (thanks to Lezlie who handed down a TON of Motherease diapers), I have my eye on a few. Wee Babe is too stinkin' cute walkin around in his cloth diapers while his mama has a ball putting them on him. Granted, if he pooped (I just said pooped, sorry Aunt R) eight times a day in them, I might not find them as fun. Twice is fine. 'Cuz I'm havin' fun. Are you concerned now too?

4. Please raise your hand if you think Miley Cyrus designing clothes is a good idea? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Our town is sorely lacking in clothes store options. I often breeze through the women's section in Walmart (Don't judge me. Seriously. There is nothing in this town. Loading up six children to take clothes shopping for myself is less fun than having my lip waxed. And brows. And chin.) just to check for things I shouldn't live without while I'm there picking up essentials like toilet paper and Almond M&Ms. The funky "Alligator Woman" 80s meets Miley Cyrus has thrown up all over the clothing section at Walmart. It's both revolting and hilarious to walk through the racks wondering, "Who wears this?" I mean, who, pray tell, is itching to buy and wear (really bad) faux leather black leggings with a British flag half shirt? Max Azria should be ashamed of himself.

5. My day gets made when I come home from having dinner with friends and Cutie Pie, Wee Babe and Faith come running. Hugging my calves, legs and waist with loving embraces. Letting me know that they missed me. That they prefer me to be home with them. When Cutie Pie looks up at me with her big blue eyes and says, "Mama, where have you been all this time? We missed you?" though only hours elapsed from when I saw them last, my chest aches from the joy. I truly am very, very blessed.

A Picture Perfect Family

The Boy had a costume party yesterday afternoon. Naturally, everyone in the family decked themselves out in some kind of get up (ok, not Wee Babe... he was napping and sick). Quite the good lookin' crowd, eh? We didn't buy anything except for two costumes: the birthday boy's choice (Bumblebee, in case you aren't in the know when it comes to Transformers) and Cleopatra (because it was on sale and I thought it was cute... and could be useful for school). The fact that we had these things on hand and were eager to get dressed up proves that we A) are odd B) live and work at a summer camp C) have no sense of pride.I'm pretty sure we'll get a call to have our photo on the front of a really classy magazine any time now.

It seems all the guests enjoyed a chance to dress up for a party. They were adorable and it was fun anticipating what each person would be wearing. They were entertaining 'in character'. A fun time was had by all.

I'll even admit that this pirate wench liked wearing the petticoat and sword combination. I'm not sure what that says about me.

I know I fit in just fine around here with my picture perfect family.

Singing at Breakfast

Today is my sweet son's eleventh birthday. In honor of the occasion, I decided to introduce a just as sweet delicacy to my children. Something I knew they would love. Something I knew would fill their gullets with happiness. Something I knew would inspire them to sing their mother's praise at the breakfast table.

It was all that and more. One dear, brilliant, well-loved child really did sing my praises and I'm sure it wasn't just because I declared in my best Amy Adams voice, "You all are going to sing, 'You are the best mother ever!' when you see what I made for breakfast!" I'm sure it was purely because her heart truly did runneth over in praise for her mother.

What was said delicacy?

Monkey Bread

Pioneer Woman's recipe. Actually, her friend's recipe. Whatever. It was easy. It was yummy. It didn't last past one sitting. I increased the recipe to meet our family's needs. Next time: decrease bake time and make it even gooier!Today's post is pretty much the exact opposite of yesterday's.

I'm a paradox. If you just accept that truth and try not to understand it, it will be easier for you.

Veggie Up!

Ok, I admit I'm in a rut. A vegetable rut. I'd like to help my kiddos appreciate veggies a bit more than they do right now. I know, I know. Some would say I'm reaching for the stars. I don't think it's too late to change their palates, though. I'm hoping to help them become adults who think outside the salad box, unlike their mother. Which is pretty hilarious since I was a vegetarian for eleven years (My Sweetie says I was actually a pasta-tarian. Cheeky.).

Here is where you step in.

Could you give me ideas of side dish veggies that you like?
If you have children, could you tell me ways you fix veggies that your children beg for/gobble up/enjoy/don't hate?

My habits are to serve the following: salad (defined as: Romaine/Green Leaf/Spinach), salad with shredded carrots, salad with cucumber slices, carrot sticks, tomatoes, and green beans. Occasionally I throw asparagus and baked bell peppers into the line up. Creative, no? Yeah, I know the answer.

Come on'. Help a girl out.

Veggie up!

Seriously

Sometimes I feel like I could implode with joy and gratefulness for my life.
Sometimes I weep in gratitude for the opportunities I have been given.
Sometimes I bask in the goodness of every day moments.

The one thing that will cause my spirit to soar and my heart to swell out of pure pleasure every single time is when I hold my babies on my chest as they sleep.

Seriously, beyond happy.

If there is rocking involved, forgetaboutit.

The comfort.
The satisfaction.

It's reciprocal.

Since this is my sixth time to enjoy many months of a baby sleeping on my chest, I've come to appreciate it even more. There is bad and good in that. Bad, because I know how fleeting that time is and that it can never fully be recaptured. Good, because it causes me to revel in the times I do get to be the one that provides a warm embrace of trust for my dear little one.

The other night I had such a moment.

I rocked my precious baby after he awakened in the night because of a cold. He fell asleep immediately after I held him. He relaxed into a satisfied sleep right there on my chest. I sat in that rocker much longer than was necessary for him.

I did it for me.

I sat there and soaked in every sensation. Wishing I could make it last much longer than I knew it would, not just that moment in time, but the season of his life. Knowing that my baby boy was growing and would be leaving this stage much sooner than I wanted. Crying because I feared it was my last season for such pleasure. Praising God for giving us each other.

I can not find words to describe the honor it is to me to hold my baby in such a mothering way.
I can not express to you the right words that tell you how my soul finds a landing place while doing such a thing.

All I can say, is, seriously, I love every stinkin' second.

Words in Red

Today is the day set aside for anyone who would like to share their Words in Red Challenge thoughts, including those who may have started the challenge after the initial one. It is also a time for us to share what words of Christ we are focusing on, learning from, being challenged by, or discovering anew.

So... who wants to go first? What? I'm supposed to go first? Ok... fine.

This month I've been a slacker and read some of John for BSF. I haven't meditated on it though.

Just keepin' it real.
And hoping one of you can share something better than that.

Take Care of Them

This month is Adoption Awareness Month. Don't leave! I'm not suggesting you have to adopt. I'm suggesting that Christians are called to care for orphans. Actually, I'm not suggesting it, I'm reminding us all that God himself told us to do this in James, chapter one. I also happen to think it's a good idea for non-Christians, you just aren't commanded.

I mentioned already that there are different ways of doing this, here in this post.

Today, I'd like to zone in on ways we can look after/visit/care for orphans (as the Greek word in James 1:25 means). Please know that I would never condone jumping into these activities without you first praying about it. I also would not condone you doing these things while your family suffers your attention, causing you to neglect your first calling. Seek the Lord's guidance on what you should do at this time and continue to seek His will. He may lead you to do different things at different seasons of your life. That's great. I know that's been the case for us.

1) Volunteer at your local boys/girls homes. Most residential treatment centers are always looking for loving volunteers, for all aspects of their program. Think about mentoring an orphan in one of these programs. Visiting once a month to show you care blesses the socks off these kids (trust me, I've seen it). Even if you can't visit very often, letters are treasured to these children. Someone who cares about them individually is worth their weight in gold. This could even be a family project to love and invest in an orphan. Letters and pictures for the child. Be creative on what you can/want to do to really bless a child in one of these kinds of homes.

2) Support an orphan financially. You can do this a few different ways. You can partner up with a local residential treatment center and 'choose' a child to help (giving funds in addition to what the state pays for their care... it's a joke, though not a funny one, what the state considers enough money for daily care). You can help a foster family (contact local child placing agencies for suggestions). There are several reputable organizations that help care for children internationally. Most of these children meet at least of the definitions of orphan. Currently, our family sponsors a Compassion International child. My Sweetie and I write letters and our kids send drawings. There are also plenty of international orphanages that could really, really use your help. These are a few of the orphanages and RTCs stateside and international that I trust (because I have been there or people I trust have been there or can vouch for them) for example: Mama Tara's, La Providencia, Restoration Gateway, Boys Town, St. Mary's Home, Texas Baptist Children's Home, Roy Maas' Youth Alternative, Medina Children's Home, Three Angels, and Eagle's Nest Children's Home.

3) Foster an orphan. Consider becoming a foster parent. This is a very, very special calling. I do NOT recommend it to everyone. Seriously. BUT I wonder if there are many people out there who would be wonderful foster parents, who are in the right season (and this involves a lot of different aspects) for it, but don't take the idea to God because they aren't willing to hear what He might say. While residential treatment centers are meeting a basic need, fostering does so much more than that.

4) Adopt an orphan. I'll talk more about this in a couple of weeks, but really, we can't deny this is the best way to care for an orphan.

Please, please share any other suggestions/ideas you have in regards to how we can care/look after/visit orphans. You all have a wealth of ideas, I'm sure.

Mighty Fine

Here's how you get my family to think a burger joint is the best place to eat in the entire world:

1) Greet and serve us with grins even though we place and replace and replace eight orders.
2) Tell us to pick, "Red, Yeller' or White" in a fabulous Texan accent for condiment choices on our burgers.
3) Provide the best and cleanest entertainment for my children I could have ever imagined, ensuring we have the most sterile hands this side of the Pecos since they were washed before, during, again during and after our meal.
4) Have a man who obviously has My Sweetie's (and my son's) sense of humor design the men's bathroom, giving it a very large two way mirror. The boys/men can take care of urinal business right in front of a window, making it seem like they are using the bathroom in front of the entire restaurant, snickering with joy. Meanwhile, the rest of us sit and chat totally clueless to the hysterical attraction the men's bathroom suddenly has on all males in the joint.

5) Put time and effort into designing the women's restroom so that my daughters come out saying, "Mama, it's like Extreme Home Makeover in there!"
6) Serve up big juicy delicious all natural beef burgers and crisp fries.

7) Offer only Blue Bell as the option for shakes.

Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't discovered Mighty Fine, please allow me to share the joy. Head there the next time you are in the finest state capital in this country (that would be Austin, in case you're a Yankee and you are confused).

We saw a billboard touting a burger raved about in Texas Monthly and decided it would be worth the effort to find. How right we were, pardner'. It felt like a little amusement park stop with delicious food and added a whole 'nuther level of fun to our road trip.

Definitely a Mighty Fine pit stop.

(Even though I couldn't figure out how to fit the CleanTech500 in the back of my suburban!)

(My apologies to my ex-pat Texan readers for the tease... at least you can add something to your next stateside trip! ;-))

Memorial Stone in Words: A Piece of Plastic

Memorial Stones in Words in an opportunity to share a time when God made himself apparent to you. A story you don't want to forget. Something you want to share with others. I'd love it if you had a story to share. If you post one on your blog, say that in the comment. If you don't have a blog, but you'd like to email me your story to post, please do so! Check out the original post for a more full explanation

The Boy started crying after he had been asleep for awhile. He was about eight months old. I went to comfort him. No doin'. More screaming. I rocked. Screaming. I changed his diaper and searched his body for some kind of bite or injury or something. I could find nothing. Still screaming. I tried to nurse him. He would start and then pull away crying. I finally sat down on the floor of the bathroom and cried right along with him, then I prayed.

"Lord, I can't find anything wrong with him. I don't know what's wrong. This is very out of character for him. Please help me. Or comfort him."

I tried nursing again. Then, I acted upon something that hadn't even formed a full thought in my head. I put my finger in his mouth and searched. There, stuck to the roof of his mouth was a tiny yellow floppy piece of plastic the size of a nickel.

It was the plastic filter from my nursing pump. I hadn't even known that it came off of the pump until I found it there in his mouth. I took a deep breath. He stopped crying instantly and started nursing. I started crying as the full realization hit me.

I looked at that piece of plastic in the palm of my hand. It was the perfect diameter of his trachea. He could have stopped breathing in his sleep and I never would have known. Instead, it was suction cupped to the roof of his mouth and God moved my fingers to find it.

I prayed again a prayer of thanks. My precious baby had been playing with the pump parts earlier that evening and I didn't think twice about it because I didn't know that there were actually any small pieces. I wouldn't make that same mistake again.

But for that moment... I praised my loving God who kept that piece of plastic in an annoying place instead of dangerous place.

I'd never been so happy to have an aggravated baby.
I'd never been so happy to have a God who moves. Even fingers.


Thank you to Texas Heather for reminding me to post this! Oops! Twelve days late is better than never, right? ;-)

I'd love to read a Memorial Stone from your life!

Works for Me: Cookware

I had been telling My Sweetie for quite awhile about the issues of non-stick cookware. He thought I was loony. He thought I was paranoid. He thought I was wrong.

Then Alton Brown did an episode on proving whether or not some kitchen myths were wrong. He did a segment on non-stick cookware. He proved me right.

My Sweetie smiled at me and said, "Wow. Did you hear what Alton said? Let's get rid of our non-stick cookware. Is that ok with you?"

Sigh.

Anyway, we decided to go with cast iron and have been using it for almost everything for just about a year. It works great. The clean up is similar to using stoneware. The surface becomes non-stick after you've used it awhile. The health benefits are nice. The fact that they last forever is fun (just in case I have little financial inheritance to leave my children... they'll each get a piece of cast iron cookware! yippee!). Enameled covered cast iron is also great for pots. I don't like them, personally, for pan cooking because they need to have a good amount of liquid in them. I LOVE my enameled cast iron dutch oven for all my pot needs (I have a 7qt, but we have quite a few people to feed).

I asked for Lodge pieces for Christmas (so did Pioneer Woman, because... ya' know, we're so much alike) and also picked up a few pieces at yard sales this spring.

I will admit it takes a bit of getting used to, but I really like them and they Work for Me.

Check our We are THAT Family for other ideas on all kinds of things.

Another Challenge

If you are a Christian, I'd like to rock your world.

If you are not, I'd like to rock your world.

Here's how: read this book.

This book is the one that prompted The Words in Red Challenge. This book is what God has used to shake my faith. And sift it. And reform it.

It's what God has used to draw me back to the Bible in a fresh way. To Christ in a new way. To my Lord is a real way.

It's a very short and inexpensive book, but don't be deceived. It's very challenging.

Come on, read it and then we can discuss it! Wouldn't that be awesome?

Wouldn't you like to see how the Christian church behaved when it was just formed?

Wouldn't you like to see a bit of what the church fathers believed?

Wouldn't you like to learn what the early church believed about the kingdom of God?

This book peels away layers of doctrine that are not founded in Christ's church.

I'm warning you that it might make you uncomfortable on some levels. Or a lot of levels.

I'm warning you that you will not look at the words of Christ the same afterwards. Or the rest of the New Testament, for that matter.

So, are you up for another challenge?

Please Pray! UPDATED and a NOTE

Today is a huge day for a little boy. He is having heart surgery. Right now. His name is Stellan. I read his mama's post for today and wept. She said, "I begged God to spare my son." I bawled.

Then I remembered about you all. You can pray too. Won't you join me?

Update:

Stellan's procedure went perfect!! If you count the end results. The procedure was anything but textbook. You can read the whole story here. Yea, God!


NOTE:
I forgot to schedule my Memorial Stones in Words post for October. It's ready, but I'm going to post it Thursday in hopes that the little bit of time will let a few of you post a story. So... instead of the 30th, October's Memorial Stones in Words will be this Thursday. Thanks, Heather, for asking/reminding!

Orphans

145 million

130 million

92 million

38 million

15 million

Depending upon your definition, one of those numbers is the number of orphans in the world. Children lacking parents. Children lacking a home. Children lacking a family.

In my mind, that means children lacking love. support. guidance. foundation.

A family is a foundation. All an orphan really wants is a family. A foundation of love.

November is Adoption Awareness Month and today is Orphan Sunday.

After living and working at a home for boys (orphans by definition in several of those numbers) for eleven years alongside My Sweetie, I can tell you that it's heart breaking to see how a lack of family affects a child. They really don't have a foundation and it changes their entire life.

There are reports that there are two billion Christians worldwide*. What a difference we could make if we took real steps to help these orphans.

By praying for them. Lifting up others in prayer is a privilege and a calling for Christians. Asking God the Father to be the father to orphans and to step into the lives and save them, emotionally and spiritually, is the first step we can take for orphans.

By looking after them.
Interestingly enough James 1:27 is interpreted as "Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world", but the concordance has this to say about the Greek word in this passage (episkeptomai): to inspect as in to select; by extension to go to see, relieve - (interpreted as) look out for, visit. Do we do this as the body of Christ? Do I do it as a follower of Christ? Praying for orphans is important, but it's not what this word implies.

By adopting.
Have you ever sought the LORD's will on you personally adopting? I'm not saying you have to, as a Christian, but shouldn't we at least take the option to Him to be sure of the answer? Isn't that really the very best way to care for an orphan?

By helping someone else adopt.
If the LORD tells you that you are not to adopt (and I do believe that is possible), what about praying about helping someone else adopt? Wouldn't that be the second best way to help an orphan? Help him find a home. A family. Help a family bring the child home that they are willing (but maybe financially hindered) to adopt.

My family is seeking guidance on how to follow through with this. At different times this month, I'll be sharing wonderful ways you can live out each of these ways of caring for orphans.

I know my life has been eternally changed because I was adopted. Adopted into the kingdom of God.

"For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves." Ephesians 1:4-6

How my heart would love for every orphan to find a family.
How my heart would just love to see those numbers get very, very small.


*Orphans Matchbox based on UNICEF reports. July 25, 2009

Where Have You Been All My Life CleanTech 500?

I found something I want really, really badly. Something that would change the flu/cold season for my family, I'm confident. Something you would be forced to use every time you entered my home (if you know me IRL or we met and I invited you after discerning you, in fact, are not a homicidal maniac). Something that I had no idea existed.

Some of you have been holding out on me it seems. After discovering this amazing machine, I talked to My Cousin M and she casually says, "Oh, yeah. Rudy's has those." What?!

Have you seen one of these?
Are they not AWESOME?
Would my kiddos not totally love washing their hands and do so several times a day?
Wouldn't it be great to not have a puddle on the counter and floor each time children washed their hands?

How is this machine NOT a mother's best friend, I ask you?
If only it was as cheap as hand soap.

Now I thought I had video on my camera of this incredible find. It's gone. So you have to jump through a little hoop to see it (come on, it takes less than 60 seconds from the time you make the first click... pretend I wrote a really long post... and that you have nothing else to do) :

Click this link.
CleanTech500EZ
Watch for 55 seconds (at least until the lady in the blue lab coat walks up to the machine and does her thing)
Be amazed
Order one for me for Christmas

Ma

One of my earliest childhood memories involves me crying because I wasn't allowed to stay up to watch "Little House on the Prairie" one night. It was really upsetting. I can picture walking up the stairs from the basement bawling. I'm not sure why I wasn't getting to watch Laura and gang that night since it was on at only seven o'clock, but I wasn't.

How I loved that show. What little girl in the seventies didn't? I read the books later (I made sure to not let that happen to my kiddos, just letting you know before you say something about it. You know who you [all] are.) and they just further deepened my love.

Though I adored Laura, that wasn't the character who has made its way into my psyche. It's Caroline Ingalls. Ma.

Her spirit. Her attitude. Her everything.

I mean, seriously? The way she loved her family. The way she submitted to her husband. The way she worked tirelessly. Such a Proverbs 31 woman.

Honestly, though, it took me awhile to view her as all of that because first in my mind she was a pioneer woman. Man, oh, man. She could do anything.

The first time I felt a kin to her was when I make my first batch of homemade jam. I was so stinkin' proud. Especially because the kids and I had picked the peaches ourselves. I distinctly remember turning to my friend and saying, "I feel just like Ma Ingalls." It was like something in me rose up and bubbled over in excitement in the same way the fruit bubbled on my stove top.

Then, when I ground my own wheat for the first time, I felt it again. 'Course Ma didn't have an electric wheat grinder like I do, but... whatever. Baking my own bread did it again.

Those things made me feel accomplished as a homemaker, but that's not why I love Caroline Ingalls. I appreciate her spirit. On so many levels. The way she smiled at her husband in support. The way she talked with him, even when she disagreed, was always so loving. The way she was firm, but kind with her children. The way she loved serving her family. She was always gentle without being a wimp.

While I've heard people say, "I'm no Ma Ingalls."
I wish there were more. I picture her occasionally in my mind. I smile. I think it would be nice to be more like her in many ways.

(Except for the sewing.)

What's Your Poison?

If you've been here long enough, you've caught on to my fondness for ice cream. Oh, and Culver's, not technically ice cream. So, I have a really strong fondness for frozen custard too, ok? Man, oh, man do I appreciate good ice cream and smooth frozen custard. If it's chocolate, even better. Though it doesn't have to be. Bananas Foster at Culver's? Mm-mm good.

Ice cream might be my kryptonite, but it's not my only weak spot. I currently have a thing for Almond M&Ms. Hershey's Almond & Toffee Nugget's were in the front seat for awhile, but now they are too much for me on most occasions.

A good tortilla chip and salsa combination is a top runner also, depending on my mood. Chili's chips and Chuy's green chili salsa or Pappasito's fire roasted salsa: in the words of Rachel Ray, "Yumm-o!"

When a girl is down, she often finds some comfort in these little things. Now hear me out, the LORD is my Comforter. He is my strength. He is my all in all.

But I'm human. Too, too often I let my faith falter and I indulge in a little comfort food. It doesn't take long for me to cast my cares on him. Sometimes it happens while I'm en route to pick up my indulgence.

So... what's your comfort food poison?

My Heart's Desire

Though I read through the whole book of John a month ago during the Words in Red Challenge, a verse spoke to my spirit and stirred my heart last night as if I had never read the words before.

My heart's desire is for my children to speak these same words:

"We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world." John 4:42

May it be so, Lord.
Hear this mother's cry.
Turn my children's heart to you.

Fair Thee Well

Last week was fall break here at Morning Star Academy. That means we didn't do school. That means we went to visit My Sweetie's parents. That means I snuck in school other ways.

The biggest way I finagled lessons in was that we went to the Texas Renaissance Festival.

We are finishing up the Middle Ages, so it was perfect in our school schedule. Well... actually... if I was right on schedule it would have been perfect, but ... um... God's either trying to heal me of perfectionism or He's trying to help me see that being on my game would bless my school even more. You decide.

The only reasons we were (almost) confident taking the kids to this festival that can be raunchy are that A) it was School Days (two days set aside for school groups) and B) we had called to check on what was "different" about School Days as compared to the regular ones.


Morning Star Academy students had no idea what they were in for that day. The teacher and the principal were excited (and a tad bit anxious that the Ren Fest rep did not have the same working definition of "dialed back significantly" as us). Nana, Aunt D and Cousin R joined us for the fun (and educational input.... sh!).

We really did have a blast tromping around looking at period wares, watching and cheering for a a joust, jumping to weapons training every hour or so, listening to Old English from everyone in period attire, riding rides that used no electricity, eating a big ol' fat turkey leg, dancing to Scottish drums and bagpipes, yelling for our favorite mud slinging, and riding an elephant that loved snuffling his snout all over Wee Babe's face (thankfully the obsession was mutual). All activities that were authentic to the period and reinforced study of the Middle Ages.

Then there were a few things that were a bit of a stretch. Faith and Princess jumped on the Da Vinci Human Catapult. The four middle kids pulled themselves in a large boat swing. All of us singing "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything" with some pirates.

All in all, it was a nice tie in for school and fun day. We just love field trips and this one met all my requirements (must be related to what we are studying, chests were covered, jokes were clean, drinks were non-alcoholic) were met.

Sir Thomas did declare me a witch to his companion while I was using my cell phone to find My Sweetie (he said red is the color of betrayal and that talking to one's self is a sure sign), but I still count the day as a win. Especially since I wasn't burned at the stake.

HB's Eyes

I absolutely love the chance to see life through my firstborn's eyes. HB has a talent with the camera. I'm proud of her photos and love to peruse them, even if that means looking at two hundred photos of a purple iris. That's her weakness: God's creation. She becomes quickly enamored with tree branches, the sky, flowers, leaves, waterfalls. She's not partial. If it's in God's creation, she wants to photograph it. BUT... she's not immune to Stinkin' Cuteness either. She has started to enjoy portrait photographs and happens to have an adorable favorite subject.

Yes, this is totally a bragging post. No qualms about it. I'm more than ok with it.