observations about my family

Life with my family is rarely boring. I love the adventure that each of my children brings. And I love being their mother. And in being their mother I've made some interesting observations about our life.

Oranges, peaches, apples nectarines, grapefruit, blueberries, cherries, plums, bananas {well, maybe not bananas as much} do not last long in our family. At all. In fact, if you want to eat one of those precious commodities you must eat it fast, claim it, or hide it for later.

Vacation, especially our trip to Woodland, is valued. We're missing it now. Even though we just got back. And we're counting the days until we can return.

Each of the little boys has their own "theme" song that we tend to sing. Samuel either loves or hates it when we sing his song. Each song kind of fits their personalities.

*

My family creates a large load {who am I kidding} loads of laundry. Sunday night I was placing load 8 of 11 in the washing machine. I think it's only stopped when I slept and when I ran to Caribou for an iced vanilla latte. Anyone like to fold? Or put away?

You will hear the words gluten-frees uttered multiple times throughout the day. The other day I was listening as Elijah {yes, that 4 year old} was telling my uncle about the good gluten free pizza. :)

{Samuel at Pizza Hut with the gluten free pizza that my mother pre-ordered for him}

*

For most of the year we homeschool. I'm what you'd call an eclectic homeschooler. Life is learning -- and I love to encourage my kids to explore their interests and passions. And also finish their math.

A clean kitchen can be destroyed within five minutes. Just ask my older girls. Especially right after their younger brothers decide they're going to come in and make iced tea.

My older daughters -- Hannah, Chloe and Grace -- and I love to watch Food Network. Sometimes I'll fold laundry {see above point} while I watch. Make that most times.

I count my children. Constantly. Even when we were all on the pontoon at the lake. And yes, where I will add worms to a hook and remove fish from them later.

Laughter is normal in my home. The little ones -- and that previously mentioned almost 4 year old -- provide a great deal of laughs throughout the day.

You would be surprised to know that we all got along marvelously in our one bedroom cabin at the lake. It was tight, but we learned to make do. And we also learned to encourage the boys to go outside and explore. But, mainly it was about family and joy.

How about your family? What makes you unique?

Love my acrostic? Did any of you figure it out while you were reading?

Thanks to all who joined in on last week's {friday} favorites -- I'm just now getting around to commenting -- and I'm totally blaming it on the laundry. And putting away of vacation stuff. :)

I'm linking up with Carissa for her very lovely miscellany monday.

that beautiful connected life

Sunday, especially this Father's Day Sunday, was a beautiful day.

{Hannah walking to my Dad's blueberry patch}

It was a day of laughter. And fun. And hard work. Well, at least for our family as we helped my dad build a new shed. But even that work was fun as we were working together as a family. We've built things with my dad since I was little -- from a porch, to a deck, to a new garage and workshop, to the shed and more. It's kind of what we do when we visit.

It's fun when you're three and your imagination is let to run freely -- from pretending to walk into a castle across the bridge. Isn't that what his grandpa was building? The perfect boys' fort instead of a shed? :) At least that's what Elijah played all afternoon.

It was about family. Being outside. Doing life together.

And family is important to me.

The kids spent the afternoon running around the back yard -- back and forth and around and behind and back and forth again. I watched them dash through the green apple trees and remembered doing that myself. It felt like yesterday that I was that size -- with life spread in front of me like an endless blank canvas. My life memories interwove and connected with my kids. I love that.

I wandered around and saw memories -- moments of intentionality that my parents took that made life-long impressions. There was the green trailer, the trailer that my parents pulled behind their van as they took us on a trek from Minnesota to Colorado and Wyoming. Camping. Exploring. Learning about life and being a family.

I sat on the concrete step with Samuel and chatted with my brother and sister as they worked high in the rafters of the new shed -- nailing board after board and joist after joist in place. Samuel played with rocks. And was content like his momma.

I needed a Sunday like yesterday. Some time to unplug and let my mind rest. To ponder the summer and the months to come. And to be grateful and joyful and content.

To cultivate memories for my kids. Memories of what it means to be a family -- time spent together in both work and play. To celebrate life.

{my dad with Samuel}

Father's Day was a lovely beautiful connected moment of life.

Did you do anything special? Please do share. :)

I have this big boy....

...{named Samuel} who doesn't want to sit in his high chair anymore. The fabulous wood highchair that I found at a garage sale last spring for only $25.  The chair that's perfect in our kitchen. Well, was perfect in our kitchen.

Now, it just sits vacant in the corner .

Samuel has decided he's now big. And in being big he wants to sit at the bench and eat with the big boys. He calls them all bwo-thers.

{yes, sometimes we use paper plates...}

I kind of wish he didn't want to grow up so fast. But, he watches them and wants to be just like them. That highchair? According to him it has no place in our kitchen anymore.

So he sits at the table where his oldest brother, Brennan, loves to take care of him. He lets Samuel know just how proud he is of him -- and won't let those stained hands touch his cool Star Wars shirt.

So now we let him sit on the bench.

He's still my baby. :) Even though he's a big boy.

With a very-very-very messy face.

Curious about dinner?  It was barbequed chicken on the grill, quartered baby-red potatoes tossed with olive oil, dill and garlic and then roasted, and grilled roma tomatoes dusted with parmesan cheese.  

love

Hannah got a new lens {50mm 1.8} for her birthday. Which, of course, equaled mandatory "let's try out the lens" photo shoots for the afternoon. A glorious, mid-birthday celebrating afternoon -- with the hazy June sun, and the humidity, and vivid green grass. With grandparents celebrating, and kiddos running around throwing water balloons, where time seemed to stand still. Just for a moment.

And in all of that she captured this rejoicing sort of moment between Samuel and myself.

Love. Love. Love.

Any plans for your weekend? My day will be full of mandatory ballet rehearsals, and make-up application, and quick sewing, and photography. Busy, and yet lovely.

~rachel

tradition

My family is steeped in tradition.
In fact, I work very hard to instill tradition into our lives.
Because tradition = memories.

One of our traditions? Which was passed down to me from my parents?

The annual Easter Egg Dye.

And I must confess. Every year prior to boiling those eggs I have a moment where I think, "maybe I won't do it this year." And then realities and memories take over. And I take out my grandmother's old pot, fill it with water, and wait while my kitchen begins to fill with steam as the eggs boil away.

The boys were running around, Gracie was taping paper to our table, and I was standing there waiting in the midst of utter chaos. Loving every crazy moment. Watching. Helping. Rejoicing. Grateful. Savoring the tradition.

And so we dyed our eggs. And made a mess.

And it was beautiful. 

*******

To view the entire photo-journal of our entire egg-dyeing day please visit my daughter Hannah's blog {click - Aspire- } Once there you'll be able to discover exactly how many eggs we dyed -- and then let me know if that amount makes us a tad bit crazy. ;)

Have a joyful and blessed Easter. 

May you rejoice in the glory of our risen Savior! 

Alleluia!!

balm for a spring heart

1} Thank you for the kind words regarding Samuel.  Most days I do great -- grateful and determined -- and then there are days where my heart simply feels heavy. I know the days will pass, it's just walking through it.  Your comments reminded me of many truths, and were a balm for my weary heart.  Thank you.

2} Samuel? He's doing better this morning.  He slept through the night {the first time ever -- and he's 18 months old}.  Sleeping through the night means his Celiac is getting under control.  He didn't sleep well prior because he was so hungry, and that was due to the damage to his intestines causing malabsorption issues. Sleep = absorbing food = good. Actually that = great.

3} I'm working on my Celiac facts post. In it my hospital and er story will be interwoven.  I'll just say this -- the nurses knew Samuel was really sick. The first ER doctor questioned me from the moment I walked in, was dismissive, and more. To this day, I am still deeply grateful for the nurses who dug in their heels and fought for Samuel. If I had simply listened and allowed them to discharge Samuel (which was the initial assessment which shifted after Samuel took a turn for the worse and the nurses arguing) he could have ended up in a coma within days. I know that God heard prayers that day. I know it.

4} I love this picture of Samuel looking out through the sliding door to our deck as big sister Hannah takes a picture. I love it because he looks well. And happy. And quite curious. :)

5} My family loves to watch Chopped on Food Network.  Last night was Chopped All-Stars -- and if you're a fan -- like us -- you'll agree it was the best one ever.  And honestly, it was just what I needed. A break.  A bit of laughter. {Do any of you watch?}

6}Brennan {who is seven}finished up a unit in science on animals. First, I'm amazed at the facts that I forget -- especially since I teach my kids and well, we've done lots of units on animals. And second, I absolutely love this picture Brennan drew of an insect {can you guess which word I wrote? after I heard,"aw, mom there are too many words.}  Too cute.  It for sure will be going in the save box.

7} I'm itching for spring cleaning. And purging.  {Okay that was totally random, but I thought of it when I typed the word save box.}

8} I looked back at a post I wrote last year {thoughts of spring} -- about me taking a perennial garden walk in the morning and the joy in viewing my little crocus plants peeking up with their purple flowers -- and I'm letting out a big sigh this morning. The only flowers I see are those yellow daffodils in the kitchen. Outside is covered in snow.  Spring will really come.  Someday.

Okay I need to know: 

Are you a spring cleaner? Do you take a week off to clean? A day? 

And what do you do with the stuff? Garage sale? Donate? Or more?

Have a great Monday.  And if you live in a place where it really looks like spring enjoy your Monday even more. For me. And take a garden walk and look at all those beautiful flowers.:)

these are a few of my (friday) favorite things

friday mornings

48 degree days in the middle of February

love this pic by hannah?  she's got more

warm cup of coffee in hand

little ones reading on the old plaid couch 

Udi's Gluten free bread

daughters in ballet

hannah (left) & chloe (right)

recycling and garbage day

seed catalogs arriving in the mail in the middle of winter

Lowe's $5 "oops" paints

diced potatoes with dill for dinner

(reminds me of summer)

GI Doctors who call "just to check" up on Samuel 

Trader Joes

Pathway Readers and Workbooks

markers with caps on

(can you believe it?  the caps are ALMOST all on.)

laundry that is completed

good friends

first grilled chicken of the spring

a family that loves each other

one month since Samuel's first hospitalization

sweet Samuel one month ago -- love those cell phone pics

facebook

old couches for memories

dish soap

unique pronunciations by a three year old named Elijah

remember that he calls pbj sandwiches pGjs :)

those days of lower gas prices

fuzzy slippers

taking down Christmas lights on a warm winter day

birthday memories

big windows for staring outside

love my window by my old couch

blogging about normal

picked up legos 

new hope

an amazing church and church family

thinking about vacations when it's cold outside

annual trip to woodland last year (when it was warm)

a good broom

time to play games

the website celiac.com

sippy cups that don't leak at all

and

laughter

yes, absolutely, laughter

laugh, Chloe, laugh

I live a holding hands life

That would be me.

A holding hands kind of gal.

In fact, my life is a holding hands type of life.  I've learned about the importance of family and friends and faith.  And those truths go hand in hand (get it) with holding hands.  Sharing your heart with others, and being willing to give your heart, your time, your attention, your love to those dear to you.  It's connecting -- in good, bad, happy, joyful, sorrow, fear, and "I just need you" times.

Like last night.

My awesome (and very sweet) five year old Caleb woke in the middle of the night with a bad dream.  He cried for me, and I came immediately.  After using the bathroom (which is what really woke him) he told me he had a bad dream.  Then in the next breath he said -

I need you to say some prayers for me, momma.

I brought him back to his room and said those prayers with him.  But I didn't leave.  My tired body wanted to slip back into my warm bed and try to find some elusive sleep before Samuel woke. But my momma's heart knew I was to stay there.  With him.

So I pushed away bits of Legos, and Playmobil, and army men, and books.  As I was quietly dropping them into boxes -- unsorted -- my little Caleb told me he was sorry for the mess.  I didn't care.  I grabbed a Thomas the Train blanket and a Spiderman pillow and laid on the floor next to his bed.

Momma, will you hold my hand, please?

As I grasped his hand -- which still fits inside mine -- he started telling me how much he loved our family.  He thought of everyone's names and then even added his good friend whose name happens to be Caleb.  His hand was sweaty and he'd squeeze mine.  After a bit I could feel his body relaxing.  Calming down.

Momma thanks for holding my hand.

Words worth the hard floor, the lego guy under my back that I missed, the aching arm, and no sleep.  We're just a holding hands kind of family.  I've seen it.

I stayed there half-asleep and half-awake until I heard little Samuel's cries.  As I stood to leave, I gently pulled my hand from Calebs and started walking out of the room tiptoing over all the lincoln logs and books that I shoved to the side.  Quietly I moved away.

Momma I love you.

Makes holding hands in the middle of the night so worth it.

just a couple hospital lessons learned

Even though things are a bit challenging right now it doesn't mean that I have to be soo serious all the time.  I've been praying and and seeking out the quirky, funny, and interesting moments that happen right in the middle of a painful time.

This is what I found.

1] Growth Chart.  Samuel was carefully plotted on his growth chart.  His weight? 10th percentile. Height? 50th percentile.  Head circumference? 75th percentile.  When the nurse plotted that melon of a head of his I just started laughing out loud.  She looked at me funny, but I didn't care -- I just laughed and laughed and laughed at my little bobble-head.

cute little Sammy with his 75% head

(this was 2days before he went to the hospital

the first time.  You can see he's ill in those baby-blues. 

I just love him. So much.)

2] Room Service.  At Childrens I had to order my food in for myself every meal time.  You call this silly code -- 4Food -- and then start to place both orders.  Samuel was free.  I, however, had to place a $3.50 order every time.  I cannot begin to tell you how hard it was to get my order to that $3.50 minimum.  Finally, Renae, the receptionist  (yes, I got to know her name....that's just me!) would be telling me, "it's okay, honey, we'll let you be done at $3.21."  I think they got to know me -- especially when they started remembering my coffee order.

3] Coffee.  First off, I'm sure those of you who know me are laughing that the hospital staff figured out my coffee order.  Second, even though the hospital brews Starbucks Coffee it does not mean it tastes like Starbucks coffee.  At all.

4] Sleep. There is little to no sleep in the hospital.  Even when the nurses thought they were being stealth and sneaking in at 3am to check Samuel's vitals.  I woke up.  I did the half-an-eye-open super-spy ninja parent move.  Ha ha ha.  Then as soon as they left I'd have to rock Samuel back to sleep since he got woke up by that thermometer under his arm and blood pressure cuff on his leg....

5] Time.  Honestly, I think hospital time operates on it's own time world.  That world? Slow. Very slow.  I'd tell myself to not look at the clock and then when I'd finally think an hour had passed I'd let myself peek only to discover that 6minutes went by.  Nice.

6] Nurses. They are friends.  Get to know them. Listen. I was blessed beyond measure by Samuel's nurses.  They let me cry on their shoulder, would advocate for me, would bring my food in (this was important when I was waiting for that tray of gluten-free hospital goodness-- which, by the way, was eggs or plain chicken as options -- for 4days.  hee hee hee), and most importantly took care of my Samuel.

7] Cell Phone Charger.  I forgot mine.  Don't do that.  Unless you want to be isolated.

last pic taken with my working phone.

on day one.

8] Prayers. This isn't a funny one, but I can't write a post without stating how blessed I am by them. I'm so grateful for every single one.  Thank you. I know it was the grace of God and those prayers that sustained me for those days. Looking back, I have no idea how I coped, but I just did.  In fact, one nurse commented on my patience -- she couldn't believe how kind and patient I was -- that was a gift from God.  Extra grace. :)


This was the first miscellany monday that I've written in 3weeks.  The last two Mondays have been spent in emergency rooms and then hospital rooms. I'm grateful to be sitting at home today with homeschooling, ballet, and dentist appointments on the schedule. So blessed to do those things today.

**********

One last thing -- you all have overwhelmed me with your kindness, concern, prayers and goodness.  I will never begin to express the gratitude that I have for every comment and email.  Thank you for taking time from your busy lives to share words of encouragement with me.  I am grateful.

the important stuff

It's not all about the presents, right?
At least that's what I keep telling myself.
The stuff doesn't matter. The stuff doesn't matter. The stuff doesn't matter.

The stuff doesn't matter.

And, yet, here I am nine days before Christmas without having bought one present.

Not one.

And, honestly, I'm starting to panic.  To fear that this Christmas won't be good, won't measure up, won't be worth it. That my kids will be unhappy, that I'll fail Christmas, and that this Christmas will always be the one they talk about with "remember when?"

When the budgets really tight, and your husband is in the early stages of a new business, extra money for Christmas is scarce.  I know there will be some....just not yet.  And, for me, the planner, the one who loves to order all those on-line amazing deals, who pores over the mass of catalogs that stuff my mailbox daily, this is proving to be a true test of character.  In fact, just several days ago, I let the tension of not having the stuff get to me.

I was negative. And crabby. And not looking at Christmas right.

I wanted stuff.

It's hard.  Society tends to define happiness by stuff.  It can be extremely uncomfortable to find contentment and peace when life doesn't fit society's pre-determined mold. I've had to surrender my ideas of what a perfect Christmas should be.  In fact, the Lord has been showing me just how blessed I am -- without needing the stuff -- and redirecting my attention on family, friends, health, and those in need. In need of what I forgot that I have.

We have a home. My husband is in remission. My children are healthy. We have food. Vehicles. Clothes. Opportunity. Freedom. Toys. Friends.  We have stuff.  I just forgot.

Today, we'll pull out the glue sticks, paper, and crayons and make some homemade ornaments for grandparents.  I'll package cookies and handmade cards for friends. As far as gifts for my kiddos?  We'll get them.  Maybe it won't be as neatly tied and organized as I'd like, and that's okay. Christmas isn't about that stuff. Really.

I'm content in waiting.
And grateful for my Savior's birth.  Truly grateful.

That's the stuff that truly matters.

memory strands

4 hours.

2 daughters

27 degrees and dropping

3 pairs of gloves 

6 extension cords

100's of twinkling white lights

1 glorious cup of coffee

3 red Rubbermaid Totes with green lids. 

7 thrown away strands

and

1 me

Why?  Why do I spend an entire afternoon stringing (and throwing -- while hoping it catches on a lone branch) Christmas lights outside? It's not for me.  Well, that's kind of not true -- some of it is for me.  I do love the peace and silence -- once my body goes numb with cold.  I love the beauty when I'm done. I do love the laughter with the girls.  And I love having lights outside -- it's so festive -- the lights twinkling against the sparkling snow.

I put lights up for my kids.

It's about memories. Tradition.  Sentiment. Excitement. Joy.

My little ones will stand in the living room and stare out the window in wonder as strand after strand lights up the yard. (Just a tidbit of info -- I only use strands of lights -- no blowups, plastic things, signs, etc -- just simple strands.  There are probably over 2000 lights out there.) With each light that goes up you can see the excitement rise.  My little Elijah excitedly exclaimed --  it's Christmas outside! -- as his little eyes glowed with glee as he watched me work.

My kids start asking in October if I'll put lights up.  How could I not?  Do I regret that day, the time outside?  Not in the least.  Someday my sweet little ones, and not so little anymore, will be grown.  And they will remember.

They'll remember the lights.
They'll remember their mom outside weaving the lights on bushes.

They'll realize how much I love them.

Because I really do.   Christmas is not about the stuff.  It's about Jesus. And family. And traditions. And memories. One little light at a time.

(love the pics?  They're all taken by my daughter - Hannah - who you can find here.)