Ringing in the Leap Year

The fact that we don’t make a big deal out of American holidays doesn’t mean that we never have any fun around here. In fact, February was full of fun and lovely things as Don and I celebrated our second official anniversary!

First, our friends got married - a perfect excuse to dress up and enjoy a night away. (Away from home, chores, and big kids, that is - we took our little nursling since she can’t be away from Mumma for long.) Even with an infant in tow, we had a great time. It worked out wonderfully that we were able to get a room at the inn where the wedding and reception were held, so when I needed to feed or change Abby, I just ran up to our room for a little while. And I happen to be married an amazing dancer, so of course we had some fun dancing to ridiculous songs on the (rather empty) dance floor. We received several comments about our amazing energy for having four children!

The next day, we enjoyed a continental breakfast, then some outlet shopping and lunch with our good friends Bill and Audra. Speaking of whom, Audra and I took the occasion of the wedding for a little “We’re not pregnant anymore” picture:

Not long after, Don and I both got new smart phones. Don upgraded from his Droid Incredible to the Nexus Galaxy, and he is in love. I, on the other hand, have been in the Dark Ages of cellular phones with the hand-me-down phone I have kept stashed in my diaper bag for about four years. The phone I had before it was a sweet little Samsung flip phone that I used until it literally broke in half. This phone has served its purpose of being available for emergency calls, but texting was difficult, and anything else impossible. Now, I am the delighted owner of a Droid Bionic - complete with data plan and a pink case, of course. I am so excited to be able to check email and social media sites, browse the internet, have text or video chats, read the Bible, navigate to unknown places, and so much more with this one little device! Oh, it makes decent phone calls, too. The boys were in hysterics when I played through all the options to choose my ringtone - apparently some of the sounds are quite comical. And my sweet husband even surprised me with some special (pink!) gloves that allow conductivity, so I can keep my hands warm while using my new phone!

Did I mention that we also booked a cruise? It’s more for Christmas than our anniversary, since it is not until December, and all the children and Don’s parents will be joining us, but it gives us something to look forward to for the next 10 months. With today’s snowfall, we are reminded that most New England winters are not nearly as mild as this one, so it will be nice to sail somewhere warm and sunny just as the next winter is approaching!

And last weekend, the children hung out with Grammy and Grampy while Don and I snuck out for an anniversary date. We had dinner, got my watch fixed at the mall (I have recently started wearing a watch to help me in my efforts to be on time!), sent my engagement ring out for an estimate (I lost one of the little emeralds about 7.5 years ago and haven’t worn it since), and...

I got my ears pierced.

I realize that to most people, the above statement is anticlimactic and possibly just plain uninteresting. Apparently the vast majority of American women (and even girls) wear earrings. This is not something I have really noticed, or thought about, since for most of my life I have not been interested in piercings of any kind. When I reached my teen years and could have obtained parental permission to get my ears pierced, I had zero interest in poking unnecessary holes into my body. A friend and I bought magnetic earrings and wore them on occasion in 8th grade, but after the novelty and cheap paint wore off, I pretty much forgot about the existence of earrings completely.

It was just recently when I realized that my husband, who does like all things fancy and feminine on his wife, might appreciate some ear accents. I thought maybe I would get it done for my 30th birthday, which is still a couple years away. I mentioned it to Don, and he agreed that it would be cute. And then I thought, if I’m going to do it, I might as well just do it. We laughed that our anniversary would be a fitting occasion based on this Old Testament passage:

“If you buy a Hebrew servant, he is to serve you for six years. But in the seventh year, he shall go free, without paying anything. ...
“But if the servant declares, ‘I love my master and my wife and children and do not want to go free,’ then his master must take him before the judges. He shall take him to the door or the doorpost and pierce his ear with an awl. Then he will be his servant for life. - Exodus 21:2, 5-6

Now that it has been eight years, I am willing to declare that I love my husband and do not want to “go free.” Of course I'm not a servant - in fact, I am afraid I lack a servant’s heart most of the time - but I do see some ironic symbolism in breaking my “no hole punching” policy in order to look nice for my husband. We even jokingly considered letting Don do the honors with an awl and a doorpost, but decided that a professional piercing studio would be a safer location for me to make a lifelong earlobe commitment. Accordingly, we found a reputable and sanitary place, which happened to be right down the street from our house. The girl who did the piercing seemed to know what she was doing, and despite having numerous ear piercings herself and full sleeve tattoos, she wasn’t the least bit strange or scary. The pain was minimal, and so far they seem to be healing well. It it does look pretty cute, if I do say so myself. Since I can’t take them out yet, I am effortlessly fancy with jewelry on all the time!

All in all, I am feeling like a pretty blessed girl...or even a pretty, blessed girl. Happy Leap Year to us and to you!

The Hair Scare of the Pull-Ups Princess

Meet two-and-a-half year old Lydia Faith. She's at an age where everything she says is cute, because she talks in big girl paragraphs with a little girl voice. She doesn't want to be left out of whatever her brothers are doing, whether it's playing outside or watching a Diego DVD (though she seems to have a preference for Blue's Clues and Hide 'em in Your Heart).

She's always hungry (except at mealtime), and usually very specific in her requests. "I am a little hungry. Can I please have a string cheese?" will soon be followed by "Mumma, I am so, so hungry," as she follows Mumma through the house like a puppy. If she sees me at the blender, she'll ask for a smoothie or for some of my Shakeology. She doesn't need naps; in fact, if she crashes on the couch or in the car (or at the table during snack time), she wakes up crying and miserable.

She has been wearing underwear for nine months, but still requires frequent reminders to go to the bathroom (which she has been able to do independently for about 6 months). She asks Daddy to help her do pull-ups and loves going to open gym, where she runs and climbs with gusto. She's both tough but emotional, rough but cuddly, sassy but sweet.

She loves her Mumma, but she adores her Daddy too. She regularly asks him to buy her a pink bike and (like her Mumma!) any other pink thing she can name. She loves to pour out her affection on him: as he was leaving a few days ago, she raised her voice above the household din to tell him, "I kissed your leg because I couldn't reach your cheek!" If she wakes up in the middle of the night, a snuggle from Daddy makes everything okay. Last time this happened, she staggered down the hall around 11pm, rubbing her eyes. Daddy scooped her up, took her to the bathroom, changed her Pull-up, and tucked her back into bed without any conversation. Then, in her bluntly inquisitive two year old way, she suddenly perked up and asked, "What are you guys doing up?"

At dinner a few days ago, when the boys started telling jokes (for some reason, all of us sitting down to dinner together cues them to launch into one of their bad-joke giggle fests) she told her own knock-knock joke. She answered "Who's there?" with "Macaroni penguin."

"Macaroni penguin who?" we asked.

"Macaroni penguin Santa Claus!" she laughed.

Don and I declared her joke to be the best one invented by any of our children (a record which wasn't tough to beat).

She loves to help, but don't even think about taking one of her jobs. ("No, I'm talking to Baby Abby!") She can identify some letters and numbers, inlcuding "L for Lydia!" And if you try to call her anything else, (say, "Lyds" as Hayden calls her, or some sugary pet name), she'll respond, "Don't call me Lyddie! Call me Li-dee-yah." Or perhaps, like today, she will set you straight on her nickname of choice, like when she told Daddy, "I'm not Honey. Mumma is Honey. I'm Sweetie!"

She may only get her shoes on the right feet half the time, but she has a sense of fashion, knowing what socks coordinate with an outfit, and loving her pink cowgirl boots.

Up until recently, she also liked to ask for ponytails. It wasn't my intention to give my no-longer-a-baby-girl a grown-up looking haircut, but I had a little unsolicited help from my favorite (if mischeivous) five year old. Though I certainly wasn't happy with Hayden's hair hacking misdemeanor, I am oh so thankful that he left it long enough for me to even off into a decent looking bob. Add a pretty hairclip, and it almost looks like we did this on purpose.

She's busy and demanding, but she's wonderfully lovable. My Lydia is growing fast, and I'm sure her hair will too.

Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel.
Your hair is like royal tapestry;
the king is held captive by its tresses.
Song of Solomon 7:5

Eight Things to Love on the Worst Day of Marriage

It's Valentine's Day, and my husband didn't buy me anything.

It's not because he's some kind of inconsiderate jerk or forgetful oaf - actually, if I needed anything, he would be happy to buy it for me, no holiday required. But at our house, we don't really celebrate the day of candy hearts and Cupid. You could blame the fact that my hopelessly unromantic husband isn't going to let Hallmark and Hershey dictate his actions, or the fact that I tend to consider each day alike (Romans 14:5), not making a big deal out of holidays. Besides this, a more personally significant day for us this month is our anniversary, which happens to fall in February...when we have one.

Getting married on Leap Year makes for a memorable, if rare, anniversary. This year is a special one: eight years after promising to love each other forever, we'll finally have our second official anniversary! When I ponder this fact coupled with the obstacles we have faced, I am truly in awe of what God has done for us. Don and I have more than our share of differences, and our marriage is far from perfect, but God kept our vows intact through the rough early years, and His faithfulness continues today. To celebrate our eight years of marriage this month, I thought I'd share some of the unexpected ways that marriage can be a blessing, even on the most difficult days.

The Commitment
After struggling through and seeing God work in our marriage, Don and I know that divorce is not an option. Whatever disagreements we may have, we are stuck together until death does us part. To be totally honest, I'd be lying if I said there are never moments when I look forward to that day. We are human, and our sinful natures can flare up in ugly ways that make me wish the earth would open up and swallow me whole. But as hard as being stuck together can be, I am thankful to know that we're stuck. We are committed. I trust my husband to be faithful, and there is a great security in knowing that no matter how we feel, our marriage will last.

The Companion
In the Garden of Eden, God created Eve because no suitable helper could be found for Adam. He needed a companion, a soul mate, someone to help him in the task of ruling over creation. As a wife, I have the opportunity to be that helper. I can fill a God-given need within my husband for intimate companionship. I also know that I have a faithful friend for life and a date for every special occasion. When I need to talk, I have someone in my own home who will listen - or at least give a grunt of acknowledgment once in a while from behind his computer screen. And after a long day listening to people half my height, sometimes it's nice just to have a fellow adult around.

The Help
Along these lines, while we may not be quick to admit it, Don and I need each other. He earns the money and gives me the opportunity to be a full-time homemaker and homeschool mama. He makes sure we have a comfortable place to live and food to eat. I make sure we have a clean place to live and cooked food to eat, and that our bills are actually paid, all while raising our little ones. Without him, I wouldn't be able to rearrange heavy furniture or have the luxury of staying home with our children. Without me, he'd be eating raw Ramen noodles for dinner and looking for his keys.

The Fun
Our definitions of fun can be drastically different, but being forced to live with our polar opposite allows us to experience things we otherwise would have missed out on. Before marrying Don, I wouldn't have been interested in shooting guns or working out, and now I love those things. We still enjoy some separate hobbies, and other times, we have found a creative way to be together (such as right now, when we're sitting on the couch together - I'm blogging while he is playing video games). And in case I don't get to mention it elsewhere, I have to tell you: my husband is funny - and I don't mean his looks. From silly songs to rhyming games to ridiculous puns, and sometimes even the way he makes fun of me, he makes me laugh more than I ever have in my life.

The Offspring
Most people tell us that our children are cute, smart, and beautiful, so I guess I married a man with good genes. But the truth is, we don't just have children so we can sit back and watch their adorable antics. (In fact, if we sat back and watched for more than five minutes, their antics would be anything but adorable!) Besides that we want lots of volunteers to take care of us when we're old, we are attempting to raise warriors for the Lord's army. The little people who interrupt our conversations today will be tomorrow's preachers, missionaries, teachers, and mothers. I am so thankful for the opportunity to bear and raise children for the Lord, and I am even more thankful that I don't have to do it alone.

The Refinement
Like parenting, marriage has an uncomfortable way of revealing our selfishness and driving it out of us. When we yield to the Spirit's work in our marriage, we are forced to forgive when we want to be resentful, to give when we want to hold back, and to love when our spouse seems unlovable. From the minor grievances of cohabitating (seriously, why can't the man ever put his clothes in the hamper?) to the serious decisions (like the year we had to live with his family), being married provides ample opportunities for personal and spiritual growth. For me, God saw my issue with pride and gave me someone who wouldn't cater to it with flattery, but would instead point out the harsh truths that I need to hear. And if being married to Don has made me even a little bit more patient, kind, loving, or unselfish, that's something to be thankful for.

The Challenge
Because we're continually being tested and refined, and because we are two flawed and selfish human beings trying to mesh into one, marriage is not easy. It's hard. The work of becoming more patient and kind means shedding some tears and giving up some things - or many things - that we want. But if life was always easy, we would all be lazy, and we would never need God. Facing the challenges of marriage shows us the power of Christ when we overcome them. When my husband fails to meet my expectations or desires, I can take it to the King of Kings. Because my husband isn't perfect (and history would indicate that I am far from perfect myself) I am driven to my knees to find strength in the One who IS perfect.

The Picture
The most beautiful thing about a Christian marriage is that it's not just about us, or even about our children and extended family. It's about Christ and the Church. Ephesians 5:25-27 says:

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.

Our marriage is intended to be a testimony to the world of how Christ loves the Church and how the Church submits to His leadership. Our picture is fuzzy at best, but getting our eyes off of ourselves and fixed on our Savior really helps to bring it into focus. God's design is for a man and his wife to join together and become one flesh. And I'm happy to say that even on the worst days, or on unacknowledged holidays, He is still at work in our marriage after eight crazy years.

This post is linked to:

Four Months of (Abigail) Joy

...All the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
~ Psalm 139:16b

When Lydia was three months old, I wrote a post about her first quarter-year of life. I intended to do the same thing for Abby, but somehow she is already four months old, and the days are flying by faster than I can record them. Before another quarter year escapes me, I want to jot down some notes about my quickly growing baby girl.

Ten days old

Like her sister, Abby didn't want to be put down for the first two months out of the womb. Then, right around eight weeks, I was finally able to lay her in her activity gym for a few minutes without any fussing. Now she reaches for toys and chews on blankets and other things that come near her mouth. I have never seen a baby make as many spit bubbles as she does; at times, her little mouth is like a fountain of foam. When she isn't bubbling, chewing, or complaining about her wet diaper, she gives out some pretty charming smiles. All of her siblings adore her, and Lydia is the first to sing or talk to Baby Abby when she cries, but she seems to have a special fascination with watching and smiling at Donny. She would let Donny hold her in the early weeks even when she cried for Hayden and Lydia. Certainly, there is no shortage of people to love Abby, and I'm thankful that she gets plenty of attention even if I cannot constantly be the one who gives it to her.

She has hated baths since her very first one in the hospital, so I have limited my attempts to bathe her to about once a week. Whether I gave her a sponge bath, put her in the washpod, or laid her down in the big tub, she screamed through every minute of her early bathing sessions. It wasn't until she was over three months old that she learned to tolerate getting clean, and it still isn't her favorite thing. She also doesn't seem to love being worn as much as my first three babies did. I'm not sure if she doesn't like it because I don't put her in the sling or carrier as often I did with the younger ones, or if I don't wear her as often because she doesn't like it. Thankfully, she'll tolerate an Ergo ride in the grocery store during our weekly excursion, but if she isn't super sleepy, she usually objects to being snuggled up close in a sling.

Abby is also my first baby who actually nurses only when she is hungry. My other babies have nursed for comfort and to fall asleep, but if I try to nurse Abby too soon after her last feeding, she isn't interested and may even protest. She is a night owl, often staying awake until midnight or later, but I can't complain since she sleeps well for the rest of the night. Since she was born, there have only been a handful of nights when I had to actually get out of bed and walk with her in the wee hours of the night. In fact, in late December, she worked up from sleeping a five or six hour stretch in the Pack N Play bassinet to as many as eight or nine hours! Since we rearranged at the beginning of the year and she got a cold, her sleeping has not been quite so undisturbed. We got a rocking stand for her Moses Basket, which fits nicely in our new room, but I usually bring her into our bed at the first sign of nighttime fussing. Most of the time, she settles back to sleep quickly in the early morning hours, and sleeps in late enough that I can get up and complete most if not all of my workout before she opens her eyes around 9 or 10am. The Moses basket has also been great to keep in the bathroom, since Abby will usually lay there content, whether awake or asleep, while I take a shower. She may fuss later in the day, but I am always amazed at how good she is, even from an early age, while the shower is running!

All of our babies have been given several nicknames, and Abigail is no exception. We typically refer to her as Abby, but Abs is common as well. For the first couple weeks, Don called her Peanut and I called her Sweetness. Donny called her Abby Apple because her tiny newborn head was the size of an apple!

Then I started calling her my Lovebug, and the name has evolved to include variations like Lovebuggy and LoveyBug. When she fusses, we call her Crabby Abby. And because Don and I spend are so familiar with Beachbody workouts, we occasionally give her fitness nicknames like HipHop Abs, Abra-gnome (named after the P90X2 Abrinome exercise), or my personal favorite, Ab Ripper X. Given her Ceserean birth, I think Ab Ripper is a very fitting name! Of course, she has also been called Lydia, Lyddie Bitty, or Lyds on (significantly) more than one occasion. I suggested early on that we recover from our confusion by calling her Li...ttle Abby. Whatever name we give her, it truly is a joy to now have two sweet little girls in our family!

The 5 pound, 9 ounce newborn who was lost in her car seat is now over 12 pounds and holds her head up with pride. In the last couple weeks, she has started to laugh when tickled - or sometimes, just when we talk to her. I love her when she laughs at me or Daddy with her big gummy grin. She isn't always happy, but her crying usually means that she is wet, tired, or possibly hungry, and some loving attention can generally remedy the situation. I am looking forward to watching her personality unfold as she grows, but for now, I am happy to enjoy every smile and coo of the beautiful Abigail Joy.

Wordless Wednesday: Crazy Happy Siblings

I love these little people!
I am so blessed to bask in their smiles every day.



He will yet fill your mouth with laughter
and your lips with shouts of joy.
~ Job 8:21

When Daddy Clears the Land

It's late afternoon, and it's quiet in the house. I am alone with a happily nursing baby. The older three children are outside with Daddy while he does some yard work before the sun goes down. Suddenly, the door bursts open, and the loud wails of an unhappy seven year old echo down the hall. I assume some minor injury has brought about this obvious over-reaction, or perhaps the typical "so-and-so took my such-and-such." But no, this time Donny is in distress for a different reason.

"Daddy is cutting down my favorite tree!" he cries. "MAKE HIM STOP!"

The peace of the afternoon is shattered. I spend the next half hour attempting to calm, console, and explain the situation to my eldest child. Donny has a tendency to, well, over-react, and we generally try to discourage such unnecessary drama. At the same time, I don't want to brush off his concerns entirely. Several months ago, when a logging company came to clear the land next to our house, he had a similar day of distress over the felling of the trees. Though that is now forgotten, Daddy taking the chainsaw to a young oak in the yard has brought the tears rushing back.

I attempt to explain that Daddy surely had a reason for cutting down the small sapling; we have to trust him. Even though Donny liked it, it wasn't his tree. It wasn't his choice. Daddy was trying to clear the land completely, and this oak was not part of his plans. We don't plan to live in this house forever, so eventually, we would be leaving it behind anyway. And really, truly, this is not such a big deal. It's just a tree.

As I speak, I can't help but see how my advice applies to my own life. How often do I burst into literal or figurative tears over something that, in the grand scheme of things, really is trivial? A screaming baby, an angry spouse, noisy children who refuse to listen, a throbbing headache, my inability to conquer the laundry mountain - these moments can be for me what the chainsaw was to Donny. Compared to someone else's problem, they are nothing. But in the dusk of the moment, I want to cry out, "Make it stop!"

Eventually, Daddy comes in, brushes the wood dust off his shirt, and sits down on the couch beside the now-calm boy. He explains why he cut down the small tree. In vivid strokes, he paints a picture of the yard he wants to create - a place of plush grass where the children can run and jump and play ball. To achieve the dream, the tree had to be sacrificed.

Again, my heart is stirred with empathy. What dreams does my Father have for me that I am too small and foolish to understand? All my crying and complaining over my petty sorrows is so fruitless, and only blocks me from seeing what He is doing in my life. Sometimes to achieve it, pain must come. Things must die. Sin must be uprooted. And even if the problem seems miniscule to everyone else, it hurts. Yet my Father has a beautiful plan, if only I can look past the sticks and stumps of sorrow to see it.

And so I pray that when the trials of life are crashing around me, and my own selfish sorrows threaten to overwhelm, may I curl up in the arms of my loving Father, and trust that He will work it out for good. Whether my difficulties are real or imagined, something better is coming. My Daddy loves me, and I trust that He knows best.

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.
~ 2 Corinthians 4:17