Okay, I'm stretched so many ways, trying to get urgent phone calls, emails and various household chores "caught up" after being out of town twice in a month.
Do you want to know the truth?
The kids are "squirrelly" and "high maintenance" and I am tearing out my hair trying to get things done. I am also sitting here stinky and hungry because I can't seem to break away from the onslaught of crises to take a shower and eat breakfast. It's 4:18 pm in the afternoon; I got up at 9. No joke.
Here's a Scripture that just caught my attention in my 500+ email inbox:
"Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying."
~ Romans 12:12, NLT
Probably just what I need to hear and put into practice to get back to some sanity...
Dawn
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
A Nice Mother's Day
It's been a nice Mother's Day. Gilbert had the kids write (or dictate) a favorite memory or what they like about me. He typed them all up, put graphics on each page and bound it in a report cover. It's really precious.
I got a few gifts that I had requested earlier in the year. A DVD series on Travelling the US by train. I love trains and have yeared to ride Amtrak since I was 4 and still hoping to before I die. When I heard about the DVD series I thought that vicarious train travel would tide me over nicely in the meantime. He also got me a DVD series of Agatha Christie movies (with the dectective Hecules Poiroit). The 3rd gift was the updated "Joy of Cooking". That was my favorite cookbook when I was in Jr./Sr. High and living with my parents. I've wanted my own copy ever since. They recently updated it---a bonus!
This was very loving of Gilbert to take note and buy things I've asked for; growing up, his dad always came up with very creative, cutting edge electronics or tremendously expensive gifts for his mom. It's taken a long time to convince Gilbert that neither of those types of gifts says "I love you" to me---expensive things mean I have to be totally stressed trying to eek out groceries and necessities to make up for him spending too much and surprise gifts are not always things I like or can use and there are plenty of things I notice or wish for that I will never or can't buy for myself.
I also got to take a 2 hour nap.
We are going to play a new family board game once the 2 little guys are put to bed shortly. (Gilbert had to go to bed because he works very early tomorrow but I am looking forward to a nice time with the oldest 6 kids.)
It's good to be a mom!
I got a few gifts that I had requested earlier in the year. A DVD series on Travelling the US by train. I love trains and have yeared to ride Amtrak since I was 4 and still hoping to before I die. When I heard about the DVD series I thought that vicarious train travel would tide me over nicely in the meantime. He also got me a DVD series of Agatha Christie movies (with the dectective Hecules Poiroit). The 3rd gift was the updated "Joy of Cooking". That was my favorite cookbook when I was in Jr./Sr. High and living with my parents. I've wanted my own copy ever since. They recently updated it---a bonus!
This was very loving of Gilbert to take note and buy things I've asked for; growing up, his dad always came up with very creative, cutting edge electronics or tremendously expensive gifts for his mom. It's taken a long time to convince Gilbert that neither of those types of gifts says "I love you" to me---expensive things mean I have to be totally stressed trying to eek out groceries and necessities to make up for him spending too much and surprise gifts are not always things I like or can use and there are plenty of things I notice or wish for that I will never or can't buy for myself.
I also got to take a 2 hour nap.
We are going to play a new family board game once the 2 little guys are put to bed shortly. (Gilbert had to go to bed because he works very early tomorrow but I am looking forward to a nice time with the oldest 6 kids.)
It's good to be a mom!
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Pure Love
Parenting can be the most draining job frequently with not a lot of confirmation that you’re on the "right track" or that you are the role model you ought to be and these little people live right in your armpit and SEE EVERYTHING!
Today I asked Micah to please get me a diaper for the baby.
His response: "Okay. I will get the diaper. Not for me. For the baby. I’m doing it for the baby." and he had the most purposeful, content demeanor. I know what he meant was that he didn’t want to and he wasn’t doing it to just not "get in trouble" with mom.
He was doing it for the baby. (3 months old) The helpless, kinda boring but sweet tiny person in our house. HIS baby as he says sometimes; the one he might be a little rough with at times but whom he LOVES.
Today I asked Micah to please get me a diaper for the baby.
His response: "Okay. I will get the diaper. Not for me. For the baby. I’m doing it for the baby." and he had the most purposeful, content demeanor. I know what he meant was that he didn’t want to and he wasn’t doing it to just not "get in trouble" with mom.
He was doing it for the baby. (3 months old) The helpless, kinda boring but sweet tiny person in our house. HIS baby as he says sometimes; the one he might be a little rough with at times but whom he LOVES.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
It HAD to be RED
Today Mikey was ill (throwing up & diahrea) and Gilbert needed to buy gatorade. I was asking the 3 year old if he wanted yellow or orange or blue. As I waited for the Mikey to answer, Dad chimed in (trying to be helpful) with "Or RED". I looked at my husband like,"What are you thinking?" and actually said, "You mean the RED that stains everthing so well." Gilbert looked a little sheepish and said he meant to be "helping" and thought I forgot that there was a red flavor. He didn’t guess the omission was intentional. He started laughing in embarrassment and of course, Mikey DID choose RED. It was one of those days where you deliberately choose your precious little guy over protecting the carpet and to be thankful for a spirit of helpfulness rather than demanding perfection. When my husband got home with the RED gatorade, together we laughed at the irony that the one kind we didn't want to be picked, the boy picked. I put a bucket and rag on "stand by".
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Ultra Sonido
Ultra Sound in English sort of falls out of your mouth like a brick, but in Spanish---"ultra sonido"...doesn't that sound like poetry?
Today is my intensive ultrasound where we get to peek at all those amazing little baby parts and maybe even find out if it's "she" or "he". This is probably my favorite day of being pregnant. Someday I'm going to spring for one of those 3D picture packages where they photograph your baby in the womb...
With our first pregnancy we debated for a couple weeks beforehand whether we were going to try to find out the sex of the baby or not. Okay, it wasn't really a debate. Gilbert just matter of factly stated that "of course I want to know". I was tortured by wanting to know and feeling like it was "cheating" to know ahead of time. What about the centuries of women who had to wait and find out before they passed out from the pain of childbirth or once they were revived a day or two after? What if I got really comfortable with the idea of it being a boy or girl and then 4 months later---BIG SHOCK! Oops! Little "Jane" was "Jim" or vice versa. I really didn't have a wish of it being one sex or the other but if I had a vision of it being "sugar & spice" or "puppy dog tails" for so long, would my underlying expectations mess with the development of my child's identity?
So easy for Gilbert. When I started to rattle off these concerns, he just looked at me like I was speaking "Greek", sort of "shook it off" and then confidently said, "Yeah, Sure I want to find out." But he DID hear the hesitation and conflict in my voice so he suggested a "wise" compromise. My considerate husband said, "I will find out and promise not to tell you until the baby's born." My turn to look at him with a stare of incredulity that said, "Are you crazy?" What I actually said was more along the lines of "Right. Like you are going to know and I'm not?" He just shrugged. We took a peek and found out our first born was a boy. Wow. We had 4months to dream about all the things a son might do or be. And no more "the baby" this or "he/she" that---we referred to him by name and when we actually met him he was not a total stranger.
Today is my intensive ultrasound where we get to peek at all those amazing little baby parts and maybe even find out if it's "she" or "he". This is probably my favorite day of being pregnant. Someday I'm going to spring for one of those 3D picture packages where they photograph your baby in the womb...
With our first pregnancy we debated for a couple weeks beforehand whether we were going to try to find out the sex of the baby or not. Okay, it wasn't really a debate. Gilbert just matter of factly stated that "of course I want to know". I was tortured by wanting to know and feeling like it was "cheating" to know ahead of time. What about the centuries of women who had to wait and find out before they passed out from the pain of childbirth or once they were revived a day or two after? What if I got really comfortable with the idea of it being a boy or girl and then 4 months later---BIG SHOCK! Oops! Little "Jane" was "Jim" or vice versa. I really didn't have a wish of it being one sex or the other but if I had a vision of it being "sugar & spice" or "puppy dog tails" for so long, would my underlying expectations mess with the development of my child's identity?
So easy for Gilbert. When I started to rattle off these concerns, he just looked at me like I was speaking "Greek", sort of "shook it off" and then confidently said, "Yeah, Sure I want to find out." But he DID hear the hesitation and conflict in my voice so he suggested a "wise" compromise. My considerate husband said, "I will find out and promise not to tell you until the baby's born." My turn to look at him with a stare of incredulity that said, "Are you crazy?" What I actually said was more along the lines of "Right. Like you are going to know and I'm not?" He just shrugged. We took a peek and found out our first born was a boy. Wow. We had 4months to dream about all the things a son might do or be. And no more "the baby" this or "he/she" that---we referred to him by name and when we actually met him he was not a total stranger.
By the time I was pregnant with number 4, the thing we look forward to most was that ultrasound and finding out that key part of getting to know our newest family member before he? she? was even born. We ohh-ed and ahh-ed at each little perfectly formed part. We were like "Oh! The fluttery little heart!" and "There's the head!" and "What cute little toes." Our OB smiled because he knew we "had a thing for babies" like he did. Then he confirmed, "You want to know what sex the baby is if I can tell, right?" Yep. He was right; for us this was "business as usual", round 4. He moved the wand around, jiggled it a little and then said, "Hmm. You've got a modest one here. Sorry. I can't tell." We were both shocked! What! We had to go home with "the baby" and not know if this was little "Lily" or little "Joel"? He tried to reassure us that it wasn't a big deal; we'll just do another ultrasound next month to peek and see if we can tell then. HUMPH. I wasn't a happy camper but willing to be patient.
Gilbert made the effort to come to my next month's appointment simply because we were both so excited to find out if we were having a 4th boy or our first girl. It didn't matter which, we just wanted to start calling the baby by his/her name. Oh! This is not so bad. We get to see all those perfect little baby parts a second time because of the little problem of modest baby last month. Gilbert was on the edge of his seat; I was craning my neck toward the monitor like a mamma goose. And...it's...a...hmmmm. I'm now almost 7 months pregnant and HE CAN'T TELL! The baby is kind of sleepy and all curled up and it's just not possible to get a strategic angle. (I'm secretly thinking I wish I'd brought some ice to rub on my tummy and wake up the little darling.) We left the doctor's office pretty bummed and in desperate need of a hot fudge sundae.
It's a good thing we've developed a rapport with our doctor after going to him for 4 pregnancies. At least he was willing to take ANOTHER look about 6 weeks before the baby popped out, rather than pushing us into doing something so old fashioned like WAIT until the BIRTH to find out the sex of our child. This IS the 21st century, right?
Guess what! It was a GIRL! The 3rd try, Dr. Rockwell admitted that he suspected so because it's a lot harder to see something there than be confident something is not. In hindsight, this experience was a turning point. From that point on, when they couldn't tell the sex of the baby in the 5 month ulrasound---we guessed correctly it was another girl; all our boys were easy to identify with that first mid-pregnancy screeening.
Really the most important thing for us is that the baby looks healthy and we get to see the marvelous handiwork of God. (such a "pick-me-up" when I'm feeling exhausted and gigantic.) But we are human and tied to our concrete senses. Though we are mentally convinced life begins at conception, we can't really begin to know our new little person until we know him or her by name.
Who's coming to live with us this time? Brandon or Abigail? We'll let you know.
Gilbert made the effort to come to my next month's appointment simply because we were both so excited to find out if we were having a 4th boy or our first girl. It didn't matter which, we just wanted to start calling the baby by his/her name. Oh! This is not so bad. We get to see all those perfect little baby parts a second time because of the little problem of modest baby last month. Gilbert was on the edge of his seat; I was craning my neck toward the monitor like a mamma goose. And...it's...a...hmmmm. I'm now almost 7 months pregnant and HE CAN'T TELL! The baby is kind of sleepy and all curled up and it's just not possible to get a strategic angle. (I'm secretly thinking I wish I'd brought some ice to rub on my tummy and wake up the little darling.) We left the doctor's office pretty bummed and in desperate need of a hot fudge sundae.
It's a good thing we've developed a rapport with our doctor after going to him for 4 pregnancies. At least he was willing to take ANOTHER look about 6 weeks before the baby popped out, rather than pushing us into doing something so old fashioned like WAIT until the BIRTH to find out the sex of our child. This IS the 21st century, right?
Guess what! It was a GIRL! The 3rd try, Dr. Rockwell admitted that he suspected so because it's a lot harder to see something there than be confident something is not. In hindsight, this experience was a turning point. From that point on, when they couldn't tell the sex of the baby in the 5 month ulrasound---we guessed correctly it was another girl; all our boys were easy to identify with that first mid-pregnancy screeening.
Really the most important thing for us is that the baby looks healthy and we get to see the marvelous handiwork of God. (such a "pick-me-up" when I'm feeling exhausted and gigantic.) But we are human and tied to our concrete senses. Though we are mentally convinced life begins at conception, we can't really begin to know our new little person until we know him or her by name.
Who's coming to live with us this time? Brandon or Abigail? We'll let you know.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Late Even Then?
Gilbert said that if he outlives me he is going to arrange to have my body wheeled in to the funeral 20 minutes late as a joke. I don't want to do the body-at-the-service thing so that might put a cramp in his plans...I told him he could set up a photo of me 20 min. late or start a video (if I ever make one) of me addressing people at my funeral (We had a pastor who died of cancer and his video was the thing I enjoyed the most---One last time to see him and hear his thoughts and humor... )
Plus I'd love to have a full choir sing and maybe a band---now what significant thing do I need to accomplish to warrant/earn that? I also thought it would be neat if the reception after the service all the odds n ends of party goods I have (napkins from my wedding/plates from kiddie b'days, etc.) were used for refreshments. For my kids I would hope some of those would bring back some of the best memories---themed birthday parties, special events, etc. I would love it if people went home feeling just a little odd because it seemed more like a party than a "funeral". I hope my life ends up being a reason to celebrate that I was here, my last opportunity to share my favorite things and near/dear thoughts rather than mourning the "what ifs" or apathy or a gossipy gawk fest. If I get hit by a Mack truck unexpectedly the whole thing will probably not come together unless I task Ann with it now....hmmm....
Plus I'd love to have a full choir sing and maybe a band---now what significant thing do I need to accomplish to warrant/earn that? I also thought it would be neat if the reception after the service all the odds n ends of party goods I have (napkins from my wedding/plates from kiddie b'days, etc.) were used for refreshments. For my kids I would hope some of those would bring back some of the best memories---themed birthday parties, special events, etc. I would love it if people went home feeling just a little odd because it seemed more like a party than a "funeral". I hope my life ends up being a reason to celebrate that I was here, my last opportunity to share my favorite things and near/dear thoughts rather than mourning the "what ifs" or apathy or a gossipy gawk fest. If I get hit by a Mack truck unexpectedly the whole thing will probably not come together unless I task Ann with it now....hmmm....
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