He is Risen!

When you explain things to children, do they become that much more apparent to you? On Good Friday, we read the story of Judas' betrayal. And then the story of Peter's betrayal. And then I tried to explain to the children how we betray the Lord's love and trust every day. But Christ never did. What huge concepts for little minds to grasp! As I tried to explain these things simply, I was just overwhelmed by the true nature of God's sacrifice for us. I held my tiny new baby and realized that God turned His face from His Son and allowed Him to die, not for His own punishment, but for mine. And this tiny new baby's. I can't fathom that kind of love.

But then, miracle of all miracles- Christ did not stay dead. He rose and is risen. And He lives, seated at the right hand of the Father. He died for me and continues to intercede on my behalf. These are the things we think of when we realize we are not worthy.

Holidays' stressfulness seems to trump the quiet moments where we can reflect on how amazing our Lord is. Yesterday was no exception. Two family get-togethers, helping with the toddlers at Sunday School, cooking, baking, cleaning, parenting...

Thankfully, (!) I am still getting very quiet moments in the wee hours of the morning for reading my Bible and praying and thinking. It is fragmented and a little sleepy, but I am so glad God provides this quiet time for me. I don't get it during the rest of the day. When Chase starts sleeping through the night, I am going to have to dig deep to find some self-discipline to continue to find comparable quiet time.
Even though Easter was hectic, it was still lovely to spend the day with my sweet family.
And my handsome husband, still the person I would rather be around more than anyone else.

This one has been home from school for a whole week. It has been really nice to have him around. This picture is from the day of his Festival of Spring. I tried to dress him doctorly.

Newborn Session with Daniel Boone Photography

All Images Courtesy of Daniel Boone Photography

A few family gems from the past weeks:

Jackson:
"I don't know why Mrs. Sandoval calls it Fun Fun Friday.
We don't do anything Fun Fun.
It's more like Lame Lame Friday."

Beau:
"You are such a firecracker".
Rebecca:
"What is a firecrapper?"

Jackson:
"I am going to be a doctor for the Spring Festival (at school)."
Me:
"Oh! Do I need to get you a costume?"
Jackson:
"Nope. You just need to dress me doctorly."

I am not sure if the video loaded properly. If you can't see it, the pictures are here.

Fall Fair 2011

 I love all things fall.  You already know this.  One of the harbingers of my favorite season is the fair. (The other is apple picking, which I will post about soon!)

 It is always hot when we go to the fair, and for some reason, I always seem to be pregnant. Or nursing. Or something.

 But part of the magic of going to the fair is going with little kids! I ached for Jackson to be there with us this year, but little kids must grow up.  And kindergarten is more important than the fair, for now.

 We got a good hour and a half to pet some animals, eat a corndog and cotton candy, and play with friends.

Okay, October. We are ready for you now.  Feel free to dance in with breezy days and falling temperatures.  At your leisure, of course.

May

It is May.

I have not been blogging.

Or sewing, for that matter.

For the record, I did try to get on to Blogger at one point last week during a free 5 minutes. I was told that Blogger was down. Bummer.

But Blogger is up today! And here we are, checking in for an update. So many things going on...

Guess who finally started walking?
Well, he is not walking in that picture, but I don't have much footage just yet.

We have been enjoying birthday parties, park days, slip-n-slides, a concert even! We wake up on Monday morning, go to sleep Monday night, and all of the sudden, it is Sunday morning. The week flashes by like Scooby Doo running from a monster.

For 13 months now, we have been whispering a word around our house, almost scared to speak it out loud, praying together, praying alone.

Adoption...

Do we really want to add more chaos to this home? Do we really feel up to the challenge that an adopted child will provide us with? Do we really care about all of the stories the naysayers are excited to provide us with?

Yes, yes, and, well, no.

We have thought about and prayed through the challenges. We are excited about the opportunity that this new avenue provides for our family, spiritually and emotionally. We have no guarantee this child will be healthy or "normal" or a Christian.

But we have no guarantees on our biological children, either. We trust God and press on. I am sharing with my blog friends at this point because I know that many of you trust the Lord as your Savior and we ask you for your prayers as we begin this strange and wonderful journey.

We are halfway through the classes that allow us to get our Foster Care license. There is much more work to be done. How exciting it is to finally start the process, though! Our eyes are being opened to all of the Christian work that can be done right here in our city. The suffering is intense. The Gospel needs to be shared. Adults and children are hurting, sick, oppressed, abused- all in need of a Savior. Only Christ can fill that need. For the sufferings of this world are but "light and momentary afflictions" when they are looked at through eternal eyes. We know that the Lord is giving us this small chance to help just one more soul see His love and provision.

Our reasons are many. We have carefully thought through short- and long-term implications. We have been prayerful and quiet as we waited for the Lord to move in this way, and we now feel that this is the time. The privacy of the children in the system is guarded very carefully, so we will not be able to share specifics for quite some time, but please feel free to pray for our family in any way you see fit. I will share what I can. Four times the fun, baby. Bring it on.

He is Risen!

He is risen, indeed!

And, as my dear Aussie friend was carefully explaining to her children, we celebrate by...

hunting eggs?

Hmm.

Australians, it seems, do not hunt for Easter eggs at Easter. We hunt for eggs but don't know why. We don't even know where this tradition comes from! So resolved: next year we will start some meaningful Easter tradition. Stay posted.

Anyway.
Holidays are exhausting. Celebrating a holiday with two separate families is physically taxing. I suppose it is much better than sitting around, twiddling our thumbs, wishing we had family to celebrate with us. Our day was surely not boring. I was asked a question on my BSF lesson a few weeks ago, and I have been mulling it over ever since:

"Where do you feel the least authentic in your relationship with Christ?"

I think my answer is: church.

Allow me to explain: While I am at church, I am worried about the Sunday School lesson we will be teaching, I am worried about making sure I get to say hello to all of my friends, I am worried about not spilling anything myself the one day I actually dress up during the week, I am worried about losing one of my children, I am worried about one of said children doing something that completely embarrasses me...

You see what I mean?

But when I am at home, or going about my daily life, I see how completely I need my Lord. Things happen every day that make me feel humbled, inadequate, or in need of grace and mercy. As a caveat, once the sermon starts at church, I can settle down and learn and be fed. It is all the other busyness of the day that drains authenticity.

So this Easter, I was thanking God yet again that He died for a sinner like me. It looks fine on the outside, but oh, is it inadequate on the inside! The hope is not in self or others, but in Christ Jesus.

Encouragment

I mother very young children. There is a lot of this going on in my house:

"no!"

"ahh! don't do that!"

"obey or else!"

And other things to that effect. I think you know what I mean. Discipline sessions involve Scripture. Daily family time includes Scripture. I haven't really thought much about using Scripture to encourage. Encouraging times are outweighed by teaching times most days around here. Teaching times are good, as these three little hearts are young and tender. But I want to make sure I pepper the teaching with enough sweetness to keep us all going strong.

And at Bible Study this week, our "Home Training Lesson" was on Commending Spiritual Attributes. Can't we all use a little commendation now and again? Obviously, not too much. Not in a falsely flattering kind of way. But in a real, truthful, godly kind of way.

So here is what I will be trying to think about more during our days together. I want to "seek to encourage the development of worthwhile and eternal qualities in each child" I am entrusted with.

FORGIVENESS: (Matthew 6:14-15)

SELF-CONTROL: (Proverbs 25:28)

TRUSTWORTHINESS: (1 Timothy 3:11)

FAIRNESS: (Colossians 4:1)

PRUDENCE: (Proverbs 12:23)

OBEDIENCE: (2 John 1:6)

KINDNESS: (Galatians 5:22)

GENTLENESS: (Colossians 3:12)

PATIENCE: (Hebrews 6:12)

THANKFULNESS: (Colossians 4:2)

TRUTHFULNESS: (Proverbs 12:22)

DILIGENCE: (Hebrews 6:10-12)

FAITHFULNESS: (2 Peter 1:5-7)

ORDERLINESS (Colossians 2:5)

GENEROSITY: (Psalm 112:5)

LOVE: (Matthew 5:43-48)

LOYALTY: (Isaiah 26:3)

Do you have any others to share?

The Big 6-3

We are late in wishing our dear Papa Eggs "Happy Birthday". Beau and I were so sick on February 18 that we had to cancel our John's Incredible Pizza plans. Since our family makes up 5/8 of the celebration, the whole thing was abandoned. I felt bad.

It will be rescheduled, but for now, I wanted to share why I love my dad.

He had three girls. He loves football, baseball, and any other ball. I am sure he would have loved to play sports with a boy, but he loved to play sports with us girls as well. My fondest memories of a happy childhood involve me and my dad hitting a handball against the garage, playing catch in the front yard with a baseball and mitts, bumping a volleyball by the pool, or shooting baskets out in the driveway. He was never too busy to play a pick-up game with me and my sisters. He was never too busy to attend every game and tournament I had. He was never too busy to help me work on a particular skill of whatever sport I was playing that season.

My dad was the principal of my high school. I loved it and hated it. I loved walking into his office for a chat, or seeing him on campus. I hated it for obvious reasons, but those reasons faded as I spent more time at school. For two years, I got to ride into work with him every morning at 6, and I got to ride home with him every night at 6. I got involved in activities and sports I may not have otherwise been interested in, just because I was there and available. We would listen to Paul Harvey's The Rest of the Story every morning. Each evening, we would talk about the day or just ride home in contented silence.

Another reason I love my dad is because he taught me that there is a God, and that our home respected that principle. He brought me to church and he took me to Catholic school even with money was tight. I didn't have a relationship with Christ as my Savior like I do now, but I knew without a doubt that there was a God, that He was real.

And my dad taught me how a man should act around ladies. He was always very respectful while being masculine. It shaped the way I looked for a husband.

So I wanted to say, Happy Birthday, Dad. I love you.

Niech zyje, zyje nam.

Family Health: Movement

Luckily for us mommies, little children naturally like to move. It is usually getting them to stop that is the problem.

How do you sustain that desire to wiggle as your children grow? I have not yet raised a child past the age of 4.75 so I can't speak from a mommy standpoint. But I did grow up in a house where both parents valued the idea of physical activity.

My mother is a Type I diabetic, and needs to stay active to keep her diabetes under control. Some would say that she overdoes it (she just broke her foot two months ago- the bone popped because she walks so much!).

My father coached football for most of my young life and loved to be outdoors. I have vivid and fond memories of riding bikes, playing handball, throwing baseballs, and bumping volleyballs with my dad. It is how we communicated.

Every night after dinner, since we had no TV, our family would go for a walk. In most families, this would be a leisurely stroll, ambling along while chatting. My parents would powerwalk through our neighborhood, fists pumping. After many years, my sisters and I got smart and starting riding our bikes. It was way easier.

My parents made us do all of our own chores. We had a sizeable house and yard, so Saturday chores would literally take all day. All day. We hated it. It was horrible. But now I see the value in what my parents taught us. We were too tired to misbehave on Saturdays, and our family got to spend the day together. On our weeks off, we would take a long bike ride with a picnic lunch.

For three-quarters of the year, my mom would often lock the door and tell us not to come inside. We had to play outside all day long. We could come inside in the winter, most days.

Anyway, we were an active family. We were tighter-knit than I thought at the time. My parents knew that a worn-out, well-fed kid was a better-behaved, better-disciplined kid. All three of us girls have "caught" a lifelong love of physical activity. As a mother today, I feel like I am swimming upstream in a culture that promotes laziness and inactivity. I have to be very intentional about making sure the children get outside play time each day. I, against every anal-retentive, type A- bone in my body, let them make forts and jump inside until their little hearts are racing and content. I finally won the battle to get a big trampoline outside, and they bounce on that thing every day. They put coats on in winter and string a garden hose up there in summer.

The dirt is good for them. The water is good for them. The sun is good for them. The Xbox? Not so good. Cartoons? A beautiful and lovely tool for a stay-at-home mommy, but not a crutch or babysitter. Well, not a crutch or babysitter most days.

I want them to want to love to move their bodies for the rest of their lives. God has been so good to our family to give us three healthy children who can move. He has given me, and Beau, good health at this point. Our bodies are made to move- to feel strong, and powerful, and fit. We are made to enjoy the whole earth, not just our beds, couches, and carpets. As keepers of the home, it is our job to nurture and protect the health of the little bodies and hearts the Lord has entrusted to us. I don't want to teach them that "exercise is necessary". I want them to know "God has gifted us with healthy bodies and we are so thankful that we can run and jump and swim!" I want them to love to move for the sake of moving. And I want our family to love to do this together.

One of Beau's favorite quotes is from Plato- "One can learn more about a man in an hour of play that in a year of conversation". Playing with our children can round out the picture of who they are and who they will be. What a gift to be able to do this!

How do you play with your family? How did your family nurture your playful side as you were growing up? Will you do things similarly with your own children?

Happy Friday, dear friends.

If you are looking....

I will tell you where we can be found.

Here I am, puttering about my kitchen and garden, trying to create something free and satisfying without my beloved sewing machine. (You will be happy to know I am hot on the trail of a very reasonably-priced fixit shop..thank you, Celina. And thank you Hayley, Celina, Caitlin, and Holly for kindly offering the use of your own machines!)

I found an old Pyrex bowl, some stones from my yard, some lovely winter flowering quince, and a few assorted serving dishes to make a centerpiece.

Jackson can be found in his favorite spot, hanging upside-down between the two living room chairs. Seriously. All the time.

Rebecca can be found silently scrounging up something to mother. If the Thing is alive, I must eventually rescue It from the tight grasp of Its pretend mother.

Little Roman can be found growing more adorable by the day, smiling at something, chasing brother or sister or left-up-toilet lid.

Daddy is on the couch, watching football playoffs. But you don't want to see a picture of that.

8

That is how many years I have been married today. I cannot believe my parents allowed me to get married at age 19, but they did. And the Lord had some growin' in store for me.

My "8" is a rock wall because that is what God provided for me in my husband. For every wacky idea I have, he has a thoughtful and reasonable alternative. When I am emotional, he is steady. If I have a problem, he has a solution. That man puts up with a lot. He is my earthly rock.

What I am most thankful for in my marriage is this: God has elected to save us both. We don't know why. We just know that He is good. And we know that we will spend eternity together. Odds are, we won't even notice each other because we will be so busy praising God; however, it is a small earthly comfort to know that Beau will be in heaven. It is also quite the gift to know that my husband is not living to glorify himself (no matter what I may say in an argument). He seeks to serve the Lord, and this wife is quite thankful for that fact. His authority is Scripture, and there is something so peaceful about knowing that I follow a man who follows the Lord.

There are lots of other cool things about him. But these are what I am most thankful for. Happy Anniversary, Beau Thomas.

I'm Sorry; I Can't Talk Right Now...

I have three children.

And I'm crafting.

I have been hoarding felt to make new bows for anyone I can give them away to. Check out Kutz on Etsy for some fabulous pre-cut pieces. My 1960's era pinking shears were not cutting it.

Hee hee.

My kitchen is also full of lacto-fermented goodies. Currently, ginger carrots and raw milk kefir are fermenting on the counter.

I wake up and it's Monday. I go to sleep (yes, sleep!) and it's Friday. Dear heavens, my children will soon be teenagers!

And we were all sick this week. Hence the impulsive lacto-fermentation. I started eating saurkraut out of the jar one night and I got a look.

"Seriously. That's disgusting".

My poor husband.

Speaking of which, I had my ten-year-high-school-reunion.

Guess who won the award for Longest Married?

And Most Children?

A Mother's Day picture...someday, my family will smile on cue...maybe. But I will take this for now!
Roman's cousin, Dax, is three months older, but the boys are about the same size and length...
"I want to hold baby Womat all by myself!" ...something I hear a few times each day.
The retro apron I got to give to a sweet soon-to-be-bride this weekend. The shower was just lovely...everything a wedding shower should be. Congratulations, Meghann! You will make quite the Excellent Wife! It was romantically sobering to be sitting peacefully in a beautiful backyard, under puffy spring clouds, with my own daughter on my lap, observing a young bride at her wedding shower. I felt...old...grateful for my husband and family...paradoxically wise and naive...excited for the new couple and all of the blissful "newness" they will feel these next few months...at peace with where God has me right now...thinking all of the "if I knew then what I know now" thoughts...

It was a lovely day.

Fried Mush

Walk with me as I put theory into practice. Of course, most of you are light years ahead of me, so please teach me as I go! I would love your input, suggestions, and wisdom. I think that will help me stick to my plan.

Here was breakfast this morning.

I had leftover brown rice from lunch yesterday. At the suggestion of the "Fried Mush" recipe from Nourishing Traditions, I made some breakfast pancakes. (Sally uses oatmeal, but I thought this would suffice).

1. Break an egg over a cup and a half of brown rice (or oatmeal). Stir well.

2. Start melting your coconut oil or butter in a hot pan.
3. Add the rice by the heaping spoonful and mash down to form cakes.
4. Fry until the edges are brown and crispy. We poured a bit of raw local honey over the pancake to make it "breakfast-y". I can't believe the children ate these, but they did. I thought they were delicious, but they do not look anything like regular pancakes so I was worried. Fried mush, eggs, homemade ketchup, and raw milk. Wow. That makes, like, three whole meals that I feel good about.

We did have pizza last night at my nephew's birthday party. And ice cream cake. It was delicious. :)

Baby steps.

A Week of Sick

My goodness.

We have been sick.

First, Rebecca had a cold and pinkeye. Then, on the day we tentatively ventured out in the car, Jackson said, "Mom...you know how sometimes people have tastes in their mouths that are disgusting?"

Yes...?

And then he threw up all over the car...the baby carrier...the diaper bag...my back and arm...

But not the fabric! Whoo hoo.

And then I got sick. And then Beau got sick. And darn it if that man is not still sick. I have never seen him stay on the couch this long, not in my ten years of being with him. Thankfully, mine only lasted about 24 hours.
But there are happy things happening around here, too. We got a present! A friend gave us her granddaughters' old Barbie Power Wheels, in perfect shape! It has kept us busy for many a lazy hour at home this week, in between sicknesses.
I got to sew. Luke 10-15 and my sewing machine have kept me from going a little batty over the past few days. This is a baby gift for a friend. She said she wears a lot of denim. Of course, Strawberry Patches had exactly what I was looking for. I kind of wanted to keep this one.
Paul, dear Paul, chewed up three dog beds, two towels, a lawn chair, and pawed this sweet girl's face with his muddy feet. I thought about photo-documenting all of the amusing damage, but I was too tired.
I had leftover fabric scraps from the sling...and a pair of torn-up old camo pants, so Roman has a new hat!
Three months old yesterday. He started to smile on cue this past week. My heart gets full with each precious grin. I could spend hours with him laying on my knees, looking up at me and giggling. It never gets old. Each new baby brings a new appreciation for all things Little and Cute.
"He tends His flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart; He gently leads those that have young." Isaiah 40:11

The song of my heart!

All. By. Myself.

We're still here...

...Just adjusting...

Some of us are adjusting better than others...

We took our first family trip on Saturday down to LA to spend time time with some dear friends. It was so good to see them! There is nothing quite like getting to reconnect with people who know and love you like old friends do! Aside from the terrible traffic, the trip went as well as it could have.

Here are the handsome former college roommates.
This is the only picture I got of Jill..next time we will get one together. We got to meet her three children, finally! They are precious.
We met at the Science Center in Los Angeles. Here is the ceiling view from outside the museum.

First Date

Look who got all dressed up to hit the town with a very handsome man.
She and I had been talking about her Very Special Date for three days. By the time Daddy got home from work on Friday, she was very excited. Auntie Jessie and Mommy dressed her and got her ready, and Daddy escorted her out to Chili's and then to Riverlakes Church for their first Father-Daughter Dance. I cried.
This is more her picture-posing style. I love it!
Her dress is made with this pattern, using leftover fabric from past projects. It felt good to drag out my sewing machine and have a chance to be crafty. It has been awhile since I have gotten the chance. My distraction is quite welcome, though!

I narrowed the arms on this dress (the bell sleeves were quite pronounced on the last dress I made with this pattern) and switched out the obi for a narrow belt. The detail on the belt, as well as the matching bows, are made using this awesome tutorial by Suzanne. You have to bookmark her blog for her Tutorial Tuesdays!