May we fail no more.

Ben and I are currently talking classes to become adoptive and/or foster parents.  That "and/or" in the last sentence is perhaps one of the hardest decisions we will ever make.

Adoption, which has been on both of our hearts for at least 8 years, gives us the opportunity to give children an identity and a forever family.  Fostering allows us to share our family, our faith and our love to many children... and it there are so many children in need.

We are setting that decision at the throne of God for now, so I will move onto so many other thoughts I have about this process we have entered.  This past Saturday, December 28th, we drove from my parents home in Mt. Vernon and traveled about an hour and a half to our class in Waverly.  Honestly I felt as though I was suffering from Christmas hangover.  I was exhausted from many consecutive late nights.  And since I spent many of those nights over eating sugary yumminess I decided to skip breakfast (which is not out of the ordinary for me). But, that morning I had also taken some prescription medication and apparently if it has a label that says, "take with food" that's advice you should follow.

In short I was tired, grumpy, and sick to my stomach, fearing that I would vomit at any moment.  Couple that with the thought of sitting through a 3 hour state run class I was not exactly excited about what my Saturday morning held for me.  On several occasions during the drive I thought, "I don't even want to do this anymore, I just want to go back to bed."

This is the very struggle that rages inside of me.  We have five amazing children.  They are relatively healthy, happy and well behaved.  They all sleep through the night, feed themselves and are potty trained.  They pick up after themselves (about 39% of the time) and all of them help with putting dishes away, folding laundry and doing other chores.  And really did I mention that we already have FIVE children?

My wise husband stopped at a gas station along the way and bought me a bagel so that my stomach might calm down a bit and so that I also might get some energy to make it through the class.  It worked.  And it's amazing how your attitude changes when you don't feel like you're going to vomit at any second!

It doesn't take much to understand that the foster care system is in America is flawed.  But, it has occurred to me that for whatever the reason whenever the adoption of children lands in the hands of any government there is always corruption.  It is this corruption or "hoop jumping" that keeps many potential parents from entertaining the idea of adopting out of the foster care system.  It's this hoop jumping that sometimes makes me want to bail all together.

I don't want to play their games.  I don't want any government agency to have their hands in my life.  I don't want them telling me how to run my home or raise my children.  You know what I'm talking about.  Even though I have nothing to hide, I value my family's privacy and freedom.

Here's what it comes down to for me:

My God tells me, as a disciple of Christ, to take care of the fatherless.  Sometimes I think I can do things my way.  Ah-hem, not eating and taking prescription medication, comes to mind.  And it doesn't end well for me.  My unwillingness to help the fatherless is actually an act of disobedience.  If I know that God commands the disciple of Christ to do something and they justify a way out of it they are in sin.  Christian brothers and sisters, do you have any idea how many orphans need a family?

Furthermore, there are approximately 400,000 children in the foster care system.  According to the Success Beyond 18 campaign 26,000 youth (a year, I believe) are aging out of the foster care system.  That's 26,000 teenagers who have not been adopted and no longer have a place to call home.  They have no roots.  They have no support from parents.  It's likely that their siblings have been adopted into other families or will eventually age out of the system as well.  These children may have been in the state run system for many years and the state has offered them no hope and no future.  Without the support of a family many end up dropping out of school and will rely on public assistance and/or be incarcerated.

And it is in this reality that I believe the American church has failed its youth.  While we rally as pro-lifers we leave orphans in foster care with no hope of family.  We complain that each generation becomes more dependent on entitlements and have no work ethic, but we have left orphans in the hands of the state instead of bringing them into our homes and training them in the way that should go.  There are so many lives that need to hear the truth of the gospel and there are so few of us willing to pluck these children out of Satan's hand.

It really should break our hearts.  It really should cause us to examine our hearts.  There are far too many children in dangerous situations with little hope of finding a loving family willing to offer them hope.  May we, as a church, fail no more.  Our children need us.

Out of the belly.

I was listening to "It is well with my soul" (the version by 4Him) and was thinking how can make sure that it is well with my children's souls?  That whatever their lot they will be able to say, "It is well with my soul."  Even though Satan shall attack they will stand firm in their faith and not be swayed.

They have all professed faith in Jesus.  They are all so very young too.  They have not had many blows to their faith.

Mamas want to protect their babies from the things of this world that would break their hearts and their spirits.  We don't want them to feel the crushing pain of the betrayal of a friend, the pain of lost love, sorrow of the death of a spouse or child, the despair of poverty, the desperation of a failed marriage, the fear of having been diagnosed with cancer... and oh so many other things.

But the awful wonderful truth is that these are the things that make you decide what you really believe.  These are the moments that make you decide if the One you put your trust in can really make things well with your soul.

I remember well a time of great trial in my personal life.  It was a time of great sorrow, anger and the deepest darkest pain I have ever experienced.  While I'm a very open person this trial was not one that I shared with those closest to me.  In fact I turned to my "inner circle" of just three people that I feel like God choose for such a time as this.  And even within that circle there was one prayer warrior that had a great impact on my life... almost always giving the wisdom I needed and also knowing when to just silently help me carry my burden.  Yet, even with my inner circle there was still an overwhelming feeling of being alone.

Trials of this kind are hard enough.  But there seemed to be no one able to fully understand the desperation of my heart, for no one had ever carried my burden before.  At least no one in my inner circle and no one that I was willing to bear my heart to.  I feared that if I shared what I was going through that I would be shunned by those who meant the most to me and even if they didn't shun me our relationship would undoubtedly be forever changed.  So, I remained steadfast in my resolve to carry this burden in private relying on the prayers of those who knew of my breaking heart and shattering life.

It wasn't enough.  Undoubtedly there was power in their prayers.  And I recognized their wisdom for the truth of God and went to work at putting their advice into practice, but ultimately the despair always returned.  And in those darkest hours my anger turned toward God.  Because I believe that He is sovereign,  I believe that He could have prevented my pain,  He could have taken my trial away long before I had to walk through the pain that threatened to take my life.

But, He didn't.

And I was mad.

So mad that I would choke on His name as I began to pray again.  I began to doubt if He could really heal me.  If He did heal me, I imagined that I would always walk around with metaphoric limp.  Healing at that point became a hopeless journey.  My faith was deeply wavering and I was sinking further and further into my own despair.

At sometime along this journey when the pain was too much to carry any longer, when I thought that I would surely drown in my own vain imaginations and when Satan's voice became loud... I began to sing.

The song I sang most went like this...
Father, I adore you,
I lay my life before you,
How I love you.

Jesus, I adore you,
I lay my life before you,
How I love you.

Spirit, I adore you,
I lay my life before you,
How I love you.

Because it's such a simple song to sing it became easy to do it over and over and over again without much thought.  I didn't have to worry about messing up the lyrics or when the chorus began or all the other things I think about when I sing.

Instead I was just able to sing many times through the pain.  I was able to stop thinking about the things that threatened to destroy me. The more I sang the more I wanted to sing (of course not where anyone could hear me) and little by little my anger began to fade.

I began to change the lyrics a little...
Father, I adore you,
I lay my heart before you,
How I love you.

Jesus, I adore you,
I lay my life before you,
How I need you.

Spirit, I adore you,
I lay my mind before you,
How I want you.

And as I sang it I began to notice that I began to believe it.  Instead of running from the God I blamed, I began to cling to the Father I needed, that I wanted more than anything.

In that clinging I realized that this trial, though incredibly hard and painful, made my God very real.  I had always claimed to be steadfast in my faith and unconditional in my love...but perhaps I was more like the  Peter who denied His Savior than the Peter whom Jesus built His church on.  Perhaps the most precious place to be is in the belly of a great fish.  A place where the only One who could possibly save you is the One who created the great fish.

It was through this trial that I can say that I know without a doubt that I love my God.  I can trust Him for the good even in the midst of great sorrow.  And though I never want to go back in the belly, I know that I was never alone.  My Father was there every step of the way and he has made my heart more beautiful than it was before, for He has made my heart more like His own.

While there is still a part of me that desperately hopes that my children will never experience the pain that I have walked through, I also trust that God is more than able to bring them out of the belly.

It really is well with my soul.

Best.School.Year.Ever.

Before I was married I had a vivid image in my mind of what marriage was like.  Sure it was going to be hard, but mostly marriage would leave me with a euphoric feeling of magical unicorns dancing in my heart all day long.

Ohhhhh!  And did I ever have an image of what pregnancy would be!  You know sundresses, glowing skin and walking in a field of flowers... actually levitating above the flowers with just my fingertips gently caressing the tippy tops of the blooms.  The joy of future motherhood carrying me in the breeze.

When home schooling enter the equation of marriage and motherhood my mind once again started working overtime.  There would be craft projects that accompanied every chapter of every book that we ever read.  We would take nature hikes and make murals on the walls.  We would memorize whole chapters of Scripture at the age of five.  The whole family would learn together and skip through those fields of flowers with a euphoric feeling of magical unicorns leaping over rainbows would dance in our hearts all day long.

I believe I've mentioned this before.

Well, it turns out that a mythical creature can't dance in your organs.  I'm sure that if a horned horse did dance in your heart that the outcome would be fatal.

My oldest daughter and I are in our 6th year of home schooling and so far it has been nothing that I ever thought it would be.

Shocking.
I know.

We are beginning our third week of homeschooling this year.  Hannah is in the 5th grade, Emma is in the 3rd grade, Benjamin is in the 2nd grade and Gabriel is a very enthusiastic Kindergartner.  And I can say that this year has the potential to be the absolute best school year ever.

Say it. Best.School.Year.Ever.

The last few years I have spent hours upon hours searching for a curriculum that would fit our family needs.  There are loads of quality curricula available for every teaching style imaginable!  It's amazing really. Home schooling families should be very grateful that so many publishers have spent so much time and energy in helping us give the greatest education possible to our children!

That being said...I cannot find the perfect fit.  Perhaps asking for a curriculum to be a perfect fit is similar to chasing down a unicorn to tap dance in your heart.

But, I did say it was going to be the best school year ever, I even tried to make you say it.  Here's what happened.  I found a curriculum that has been around for years and is known for its great literature.  It seemed like it would be a perfect fit for our family.  One look at the price tag and I knew quickly realized that I was wrong.  It was too much.  So back to the drawing board.

After agonizingly trying to make up my mind to find a curriculum that would be a good fit for our family, while not breaking the budget, I declared a year of freedom.

 Yes!
That's what I needed.  A year of home schooling freedom.

Now, before you panic and think that we're "unschooling" our children... we're not.  Instead this year I am free of my expectations ... there will be no murals and very few craft projects.  Because, I'm not that mom.  I know that mom and she intimidates me.  Not because she's rude or mean or demands I get my crafting on, but because I see her photos on Facebook and I know that I'm not her.  So, I try to be her and it ends in me yelling my ever loving head off because these children have minds of their own and they're not making it just the way I told them to do... and then they spill glue on my table and before long there is glitter everywhere. ev.ery.where. 

And I'm not science experiment mom.  Have you met that mom?  She can turn anything into an experiment, have her children reproduce it and enjoy it.  She can pronounce the terms in the science book correctly and understand what they mean without having to Google it.  She intimidates me too, not because she's an awful person, but because to me she seems pretty fabulous and my kids will never have that mom.

There are plenty of other moms I will never be...like Patient Mom, Never Yells Mom, Super Organized Mom and Wonder Mom.  Yet, after years of telling other moms that they are the perfect moms for their children I decided to see if I could believe that I am the perfect mom for my kids.  I'm not perfect, nor do I have to pretend to be... because if there are any people in this world who know that I am not perfect, it's my turkey bottoms.

This is our motto this year.  It works for mom as well as the turkeys!

So this year I will have the freedom to be me.  To teach them the way that I know best and to spend time enjoying them.  I want to laugh with them.  I want to learn along side of them.  I want to cuddle up with book after book after book and watch their imaginations and interests bloom.  I want them to grow in the truth of who their Savior is and what He wants for their lives.

While I didn't find a curriculum that suits me perfectly I did discover that by going on Ebay and buying some books used that I had enough extra money in our budget to buy some of the literature that I really want my kids to enjoy.  And I did that by seeing what books my 5 favorite curricula were using for the time period we will be studying. 

I also picked a "foreign language" that excites me.  So this year we're learning American Sign Language and some English Sign Language.  This will help with memorizing Scripture and other aspects of our schooling that we're already learning.  Plus, according to some sources ASL is the fourth most used language in US. Furthermore, it will give our turkeys a unique opportunity to share the gospel in the deaf community (should we ever meet anyone in the deaf community).

This year the turkeys will continue to go with their Papa to sing in a few of the nursing homes here in town.  This has been a wonderful opportunity for them.  Not only do they learn the value of serving others, but they also get to serve along side of their Nana and Papa.  I.love.it.

The other thing that I'm finding freedom in is that I'm the boss of the schedule.  Of course, I've always been the boss of the schedule, though there are years when I let the curriculum enslave me.  If it says I need to read 12 pages then by golly we read 12 pages.  Whether kids are falling out of their seats exhausted or are in tears because it's bored them to death.  Believe me, we've had a bore you to death curriculum and it made all of us want to shove pencils in our eyes so we would have an excuse to call it a day!

I do hope that my other home schooling mamas will have the freedom to make this the best school year ever.  It makes learning so much more fun for everyone!

No one can fathom...

Just last week I attended the sentencing of Jeremiah Mumford and William Clayton with Ben.  I hadn't slept well the two nights prior and was up very early in the morning.  I don't think that my lack of sleep had anything to do with nerves, fear or other emotions dealing with the case, I just wasn't sleeping well.

When I don't sleep I get emotional very easily. No sleep = loads of tears. 

My takeaway from that sentencing was that neither Mumford nor Clayton seemed very remorseful.  Actually Mumford appeared uncaring and confrontational at times.  But, even in the midst of that hearing I very much felt the prayers of friends and family and had a great peace in the recesses of my soul.

Last night we experienced thunderstorm upon thunderstorm and again I was up.  Around 4 am it was obvious that the creek in our backyard was raising quickly and I was positive that our upstairs hallway was leaking.  On top of that my business is located in our garage and any flooding that would reach the garage had to potential to wipe out the business.  I tossed and turned all night trying to come up with ways to pay for a new roof. 

We finally got out of bed this morning a little before 6:30 am to water in the basement and did a quick shuffling of items held down there and prepared the sump pump... while trying not to step in the crap filled water. 

Ben's dad always says that if you eat a toad first thing in the morning your day has to get better... I think we were eating toads right away this morning! 

I was exhausted as I climbed into my shower and almost decided on going back to bed instead of heading to a second hearing/sentencing for Mumford and Clayton in Fayette County. 

I'm glad I didn't.

I had been praying that at this hearing that both men, but specifically Mumford, would have the courage to talk.  To say anything.  To not be a coward.  I'm not sure why it meant so much to me, but I knew that there are a lot of victims in this case and they deserve to hear something.  Hear them say that they're sorry.  Hear them say that they did a stupid dangerous thing.  Hear them say anything, even if they said that they weren't sorry, had no remorse or would do it again if they had the chance.  I just wanted to hear something that would reveal their hearts.

Jeremiah Mumford spoke.

He rambled for 3 minutes.  Though he never said he was sorry (that I remember) he did say that if he had to do it over again he wouldn't.  He did say that he regretted his actions and that he was remorseful.  He also said that he didn't know if it was possible for the victims to forgive him, but he hoped that they could.

And that's when the tears began to fall.

For sometime I have been an emotional wreck.  I cry for what seems to be no reason.  No one seems to understand what I'm feeling and very few people have asked how we're doing.  The shooting happened almost 8 months ago... and there has been this horrible, nagging, emptiness and loneliness that has been coursing through me.  I get angry about all sorts of things dealing with the shooting and how things have been dealt with since the shooting. 

I was telling my sister this past weekend that whatever this feeling is was something that I couldn't put into words because I wasn't sure I knew what it was.  I knew that it sucked and that it was wearing me out.  It was also causing problems in our marriage.  I could not understand why Ben couldn't understand what I was feeling.  Which is ironic to say the least since I couldn't identify what I was feeling!

I know what it was now.  It was an unforgiving heart.  I didn't want to forgive them and quite honestly I was pretty ticked that Ben forgave them.

I will never truly know if Jeremiah Mumford meant a word of what he said in court today.  He may have been lying through his teeth and laughing at the rest of us for falling for it. 

But, that's on him.

I have chosen to forgive.  And I will live in forgiveness because that's the only way that they lose power over me.  It's also the only way that God can heal my heart and my fears. 


 I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race.  He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.  - Ecclesiastes 3:-10-11.

I have no doubt that God has seen the burden that we have carried and that he is making us beautiful in His on time.  We cannot fathom the good that will be brought about by this season of trials. 

Blessed.

I was 16 years old when I discovered that I was in need of forgiveness of a supernatural variety.  After years of chasing after popularity and destructive things of this world I knew that there was nothing good within me. 

I was selfish.
I was mean.
And within the depths of my soul I knew that I was on a path that was going to lead to death.

On more than one occasion I considered taking my own life.
Had I not been so scared I believe I would have...

Yet, this blog is not about the darkest days of my life.  Instead it's about how a mighty God walked into my life and changed everything.

He started in my heart.  He showed me something that was bigger than myself.
He showed me a love that laid down its own life for others.  He not only saved my life, but He gave my life purpose.

It is the prayer of my heart that my children will never choose the path that leads to destruction.  I pray that they will make it their life's purpose to share the good news of Christ with others.

So on Wednesday night when Hannah came in very concerned about how to minister to her friend "M" I thought for sure my heart would surely burst...

Hannah: "How do we minister?"
Me: "Um, well, that depends?  Can you tell me what you're thinking about?"
Hannah: "I asked M today if she knows Jesus and she said that she didn't.  So, I got out that devotional that Grandma Cyndee gave me for Christmas and we read all the devotions and verses on "Who God is"."

We spent the next hour talking about the importance of praying for the salvation of our friends and family.  We discussed how loving others the way that Jesus loves them and living a life that points others to Christ is a great tool to get people to ask more questions about our faith.  We talked about what it means to give a reason for the hope that is within us and so many other things.

While discussing reasons for the hope that is within us, Benjamin and Emma walked in and Benjamin said this...
"Mommy, I know the reason for the hope that is within me!  I have hope because I know I'm going to heaven.  It's like this man at church was telling his kids, 'Heaven is the most fun place ever.  There's no more crying there and we get to be with Jesus forever!' and when I heard him telling his kids that I thought, 'I'm going there someday and I can't think of anything better."

I have to tell you that it took everything in me not to start bawling.  I've found that my tears of joy almost always makes my boys think that they've said something wrong, but you can bet your bottom that as soon as I tucked everyone into bed there were tears.

And so the next day as soon as school let out there were 11 kids in my yard and the majority of them gathered on the front porch... for what soon became a church service.  As Hannah, Emma and their friend, HR, began telling the neighbor kids that Jesus died on the cross for their sins and rose from the dead three days later.  They had their Bibles and devotionals out and soon Hannah came in a little perplexed.

"Mommy where's a dictionary?"
Me: "Why, what word do you need to look up?"
Hannah: "Evolution."
Me: "Why?"
Hannah:"We're reading something and it talks about it and we don't know what it is!"

The girls graciously allowed me to come out and discuss and answer any questions they had about evolution and creation... which lead to Hannah, Emma, and HR sharing the gospel with M.  Soon, Benjamin, Gabe, Jack and another neighbor boy "I" coming up, each with their own questions and desire to help M understand that Jesus loves her.

Before long Benjamin suggests that we pray together and so the nine of us gathered in a circle and each of the children (with the exception of Jack and M) prayed ... most of them prayed that M would one day be in heaven with them.

And again it took everything within me not to weep.
I do not know what the future holds for my children.  But, I am learning everyday what having faith like a child looks like and I am so incredibly blessed to be their Mama.

For the love of homeschooling!

I spend a lot of time complaining about how hard homeschooling is and so this week I've been trying my best to count my blessings and think of all the things that I really love about teaching my children at home.

One thing that I really appreciate about homeschooling is not having to get up early.  My 8:00 AM alarm clock is a beautiful thing!  I also like the freedom of letting the children sleep in a little bit longer, though they rarely do! Not having to rush to meet a bus or get to school on time also gives me time to lay in bed and pray for my husband's safety at work, for certain issues that the people I love are struggling with and whatever else is on my heart.  This time is my most essential of the day.

Another thing that I really appreciate about homeschooling is that my children are almost always together.  Now, I must admit that this might also go on my biggest complaint list too!  The other day at our homeschool group one of the other moms pointed out what a blessing this is.  The natural process for many children is to go to school and develop friendships with their classmates.  I know this was true for me growing up.  Not having classmates means that my children are developing friendships with their siblings.  They don't have separate groups of friends that they spend most of their time with and only spend a few hours with their siblings when no one else is around.  Please do not think this means that we discourage our children to make friends or we are sheltering them from having quality friendships with other children. 

I'm also very excited that our kids get to be a part of a ministry to a forgotten people.  This month Papa Dan preaches at a local nursing home.  Before he leaves he takes 3-4 of my turkeys with him.  While they're there they help by singing a few hymns and of course songs like "Father Abraham" and "Jesus Loves Me".  Afterwards the older kids will say hello and talk to a few of the residents.  The younger two tend to hide behind Papa and Nana's legs! 
James 1:27 says:
Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world. 
Having our children go to the nursing home brings this verse to life.  God has great pleasure when his children serve widows.  And beyond that I love that Papa gets to be a part of their homeschooling experience. 

This year Nana Susan has retired from working as a Title 1 teacher in the public school.  She now has time to come 2 or 3 times a week to practice piano with Hannah.  Which is huge since I can't read music and am absolutely clueless when it comes to all things musical!  I wish that I would have learned to play an instrument at a young age.  She also takes Benjamin home with her after Hannah and her are done practicing.  While at Nana's house Benjamin gets extra help with phonics, reading and sometimes math on their computer.  It's amazing that he never whines about going over there for extra school!  Maybe because if he works hard Nana gives him M&Ms. ;)  How many other children get to spend their early years learning from their grandparents? If they went to the public school there would be no extra time for grandparents to be actively involved in their education.

Speaking of no extra time... I see so many of our neighbor kids getting home in the afternoon from 8 hours at school and going inside to do their homework right away.  Some of them don't finish before supper and have to finish after they're done with their dinner.  This leaves such a little amount of time for the family.  On the other hand our kids do around 4 hours of school a day (less for the younger ones) and then they're done with their book work.  There are still other opportunities for learning of course, but they're not locked to a desk. 

There are many other things that I actually love about homeschooling and perhaps I'll highlight more items at another time. But, for now I'm going to go read a book about bees to our kids.  Which reminds me... bees!  Bees will be at the top of the list for why I love homeschooling in my next blog!

Hotsauce and I were bestoyed an honor...

My niece tells me that I haven't blogged since Easter and that I need to get on it...
She also told me that she brags to her friends about my blog!  Perhaps she knows that flattery works with me, but seriously, just the fact that she reads my blog is inspiration enough to get back in the swing of things!

Soooooo...

Yesterday I turned 35.  I think of it as the beginning of middle age.  And I have to tell you I kind of like it!  The older I get the more I realize the less I know and the more I want to "figure it all out"... but the less pressure there is to "figure it all out"... 

That probably didn't make a lot of sense, but like my sister says, "There's no other place in life I'd rather be."  And that's exactly where I am!  Life seems to get better with age.

As I was saying, before I started to ramble, yesterday was my birthday.  I don't really have high expectations for birthdays.  Not that I think they're going to all suck, but I'm also not ever expecting a huge surprise party where at the end Hotsauce announces that we're headed to some tropical island where children aren't allowed to keep asking the same question over and over and over and over again.  Though, to be clear, I wouldn't object to said birthday party extravaganza!

To celebrate I was looking forward to going shopping.  I'd been saving up my blow fund and I was ready to get a few new items into my closet.  Our first stop on our shopping journey was Target.  Target was relatively empty on this rainy Tuesday afternoon, but nevertheless when you head out shopping with five children, not matter how they behave, you can expect to draw attention.

Now, anyone with a larger family will have stories about comments people have made ... usually well intended, sometimes offensive, and for us almost always encouraging.  But, I'm pretty sure our Target outing yesterday has topped the rest of our experiences.

You can imagine how thrilled Ben and the turkeys were to spend their afternoon shopping exclusively for me... they were all giggles and grins and some other adjective that starts with "g"... I don't know... I'm middle aged and the brain is failing... 

I think out of shear excitement one of the kids exclaimed that they had to go to the bathroom.  Since I was looking at a few shirts, Hotsauce decides to take the kid with him.  Soon others children were volunteering to go to the bathroom too.  You know, public restrooms are the single most wonderful places in all of shopping centers...

I notice a lady is kind of smirking as the majority of the turkeys realize they need to go to the potty all at the same time.  Not thinking much of it I continue my shopping in earnest knowing that they won't be gone for long!  When Ben returns the "Smirky" Lady mentions how well behaved our kids are being.  Ben graciously thanks her.

She presses on. "No, really, they are very well behaved children."
Ben responds with another thank you.

A few seconds pass and she says to him again, "They are really great kids."
My Spidey senses are telling me that he's a little uncomfortable and he responds back, "Thank you.  They're for sale if you want any of them."

They both laugh.  I look up from my shirt hunting and smile nicely at her, acknowledging that I have heard her compliments and assume that we are moving in our separate directions now.

Another child decides they have to use the restroom.  I believe this child was in the original group of potty goers and barely 3 minutes have passed since they've returned.  On a normal day this would greatly annoy Ben, but I think believe he saw his way out of an awkward situation and took off with all of the kids except for Hannah who continues to shop with me.

Some time passes and I hear Smirky Compliment Lady telling another shopper that we have really good kids and before long she says, "And then he says, 'They're for sale!!!'"  And her and the other lady have a laugh together.

Upon the group of restroom warriors return the Smirky Compliment Lady is beaming.  She again tells Ben that the kids are so so so goooooood!  To which he says, "Honestly they're very easy kids to parent."  This answer seems unacceptable to the lady and she replies back, "Oh, no, they've got great parents!"  He nods and thanks her again.   I'm not exactly sure where he heads to at this point, but seeing that she's headed in my direction he pretends to look at something else for a bit.

I think about running, but can tell that she has me in her sights.  I also feel Hannah's hesitation and she takes a step behind me. 

"I don't know if you heard me telling your husband this, but I think you should know, you have the best kids on the planet!!"

Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but my immediate reaction is... On the planet???  Of course, I don't know this lady, but I think I can assume that she doesn't know every child on the planet.  After all, there are a lot of children in... I don't know... say China, or India, or Africa, or heck the U.S. of A. 

But, it does seem legit.  She has observed their behavior for the last 15 minutes, 7.5 of those minutes they were in the bathroom, but still she's probably nailed this.

Not really knowing how to respond, I say to Hannah, "Hear that?  You're one of the best kids on the planet!"  I emphasised "on the planet" too.  I couldn't help myself.  But, this was quite the honor for my eldest daughter... what being in the Top 5 Best Children On The Planet!!

Poor Hannah just shakes her head no and sinks further back behind me. 

Miss Smirks A Lot keeps at it.  "Well you are!  And you should know that people are thinking it! I was just telling that other lady that was shopping by us that you kids are the best kids I've ever seen."

So, wait, not only are you repeatedly stopping us your also dragging other unsuspecting shoppers into this weirdness??

"And you know why you're one of the best kids on the planet???"

Hannah shakes her head no and is silently begging me to get her away from this overly nice lady.

"Because you have the BEST PARENTS ON THE PLANET!!!"

And there you have it! 
The boldest, most ridiculous, comment we have ever received while out in public with our children.

I'm sure that many of you with children will probably cry yourself to sleep tonight.  What with falling short of our parenting genius smacking you in the face every time we go out into public and all, but I want you to know that there's room for you to become 1st Runners Up On The Planet. That's nothing to be ashamed of and you know what they say, "Shoot for the moon, if you miss you'll still be among the stars."

But, you'll never be us... said the best mother on the planet. ;)

Not sure I want to post this...

Since getting married I have gained 37 pounds. 

Ugh.  Really?  37 pounds?

I have also gained a double chin.  Or maybe three?  But, who's counting?

I also have this fat roll around my middle that makes me gag when I look at myself in a mirror. 

My thighs are starting to touch. 

In general, I'm getting fatter and older each year. 

But, you know what else? I've gained 5 wonderful children who don't see my fatty chin and love to press on my wiggly belly.  I've gained friends who may or may not notice, but still think that I'm worth being around no matter how much weight I've gained.

Tomorrow I'm going to start running again.  I look forward to it.  Not because I have illusions of becoming a supermodel... though I wouldn't complain, mind you ... but because I feel better when I do.  My body feels better and my mind is clearer.  I'm not as easily depressed on days that I run.

Last year I made it my goal to run a 5k and I successfully accomplished that goal. 

This year I want to run a 10k.  And last year blogging about wanting to run a 5k, insured that I wouldn't give up.  So now you're my accountability partners.  So this year a 10k, next year a half marathon and who knows what after that!

I want him to move it, move it... a little quicker.

Yesterday I received the following text from a friend:

"R u guys still thinking of adopting?  I know a family group u could adopt as long as they weren't split up."

I read it and immediately had a physical reaction.  My heart pounded a little faster and I gasped.  I had to remind myself that I was driving and I needed to get my emotions under control. 

Every time I hear of an opportunity to adopt I want to stand up and scream, "Pick me! Pick me!!!!!"

Yesterday, I feared that my heart might get too quickly attached (like always) and that if it didn't happen I would be devastated.  So I took a deep breath and silently prayed that God would protect my heart no matter the outcome and then asked Him, "Is this really it?"

A stillness filled my heart and soul.  God is protects me from my own emotions and is always good to me.

Turns out that my friend was offering her own children up for adoption!  She of course wasn't (entirely) serious and they had "straightened up" before I got the chance to take her up on the offer.

I'm not sure if God will ever see fit to let us adopt, but I do know is that He has not forgotten me.  He knows my heart and is faithful to care for it. 

But, I sure wouldn't mind if He would move a little quicker! :)

Thanks for the advice Nancy!

Today we didn't go on the field trip planned by our home school group.

I said no... just like Nancy Reagan taught me to.

My turkeys really wanted to go, Ben thought it would be a good idea to go, a few of the other moms told me to go (while a few said they understood why I wasn't going... and one said she was jealous) and a few other random people who I confided in told me to go...

I still said no.

It's March and March Madness is alive and well in our home.  No, not the NCAA basketball tournament, but the chaos that is our home in March.

And to be honest that chaos that is our home in January, February, April, May, September, October, November and December.  In short any month that is not summer break!

Around mid-February I start to feel the itch.  The winter blues mixed with school blues and topped off with we have something planned for every day of the week except two and those two days get filled up relatively quickly.

Around this point in the school year I feel overwhelmed and just plain weepy.  I don't want to do school anymore.  I don't want to be stuck inside anymore.  I'm tired of my winter clothes and I start giving up... seriously.

You don't believe me?  You should have seen me at Awana last night when I picked up kids in too big yoga pants, Ben's insulated flannel shirt and my new polka dotted rubber boots.  While the boots are fabulous the rest of me looked like crud.  I'm shameless and couldn't care less.

My kids are tired of school.  They too are overwhelmed and weepy.

I dream of having a Spring Break, but have to balance that with my desire to just get this over with already.  Do we take a week off in the midst of 30 degree weather for the sake of our sanity?  Or do we wait until April when we may see 70 degree days and we're all itching to get outside??  Maybe when it's 70 degrees out I can make up a reason why we're outside... maybe Vic Collins will show us his bee hives and then we can have a picnic and eat honey and call it a field trip?  Or we will skip Vic and just go bee hunting on our own at City Park! ;)

So perhaps today's field trip would have broken up the chaos a bit.  But, we would still have our curriculum waiting at home.  And it would have weighed heavily on me the whole time we toured The Herbert Hoover Museum.  So I stuck to my schedule and plugged away at English, math, phonics, reading, catechism, and so forth.  I even started a bit with Gabe and the three older kids helped out a bit.  And we continued our research on honey bees which has given us great joy.  God is incredibly wise in His creation.

Determined not to waste the day I did 5 loads of laundry and 2 loads of dishes.  I have supper started for tonight and tomorrow night. I worked on budgeting our tax return.  I did some work for Turkey Bottom Haven.  And I spent 30 minutes solid talking to my husband when he walked in the door... because I was here when he got here.  I didn't have to rush out of bed this morning so I was able to read my Bible and have an awesome prayer time, something that my heart needed.

I'm content with saying no today.  I wish that I would be wise in saying it more often.

Unicorns and Rainbows vs. Orange Jumpsuits and Licenses Plates

Confession time.

I hate home schooling.  Let's just be real clear what I mean by "I hate home schooling."

What I'm trying to say is, I HATE HOME SCHOOLING!!"

I'm pretty sure that I'm also not allowed to admit that.  It's against the code of home schooling moms to say it aloud.  Which is why I typed it!  Ya, loophole!

Before I go any further with this I will say that while I hate home schooling there is no better option for my children.  I will not send them to the public school and if I listed all of my reasons for why I wouldn't you'd stop reading this before I got to my "I hate home schooling" post.  Also with every breath in me I will fight for the rights of parents to make the choice of how their children are educated.

Now, why do I hate home schooling?

First of all it's hard.  I have 3 turkeys in school now and it kind of stinks.  Without a doubt if someone is struggling with understanding a concept the other 2 will need help.  I cannot help everyone at once and it physically drains me.  Besides that I don't always have the answer.  For instance, is the letter r the only letter that modifies a vowel?  Is that a dumb question? Can we just skip that question in their book and move on to something I can answer?  And even though I am keeper of the answer book, it may tell me what the answer to the question is... but not why that's the answer to the question or how I should explain how or what or when or why or who modifies the stupid vowel.  And when this happens I will use the trusty Internet to look up the answer.  While I'm looking up the answer someone else will have a question that I can answer and I will put the modifying vowel question on hold.  I will get up to answer the second question and while I'm walking towards child #2 I will notice that I haven't thawed anything for dinner.  So I'll go into the basement to get something out of the deep freeze and remember that I have 4 projects needing to be painted and start on it.  In the meantime no one is doing school because mom is AWOL and they have no idea how to answer the question that they're on.

So this naturally brings me to my next point... I am horrible at home schooling.  I am obviously easily distracted and not very bright myself.  But on top of that I'm lazy.  Home schooling constantly exposes my bend towards laziness.  I don't want to do art projects or science projects.  These take time to plan and almost always make big messes.  I hate cleaning up after them and it's much easier just to skip them.  I don't need  another mess we have enough of them as it is!  Plus I hate field trips.  Field trips are always during the day when Ben is at work and for some mystic reason always on days when the weather stinks.  So that means I have to load up all five kids by myself and then spend the entire field trip reminding Gabe and Jack not to touch anything, to stop running, to remember their inside voices, to stop wrestling... just thinking about it puts me on edge.

Next, home schooling is not living up to my expectations.  I always imagined that home schooling would be a Utopian experience where the kids and I would read great works of literature which would naturally lead to us creating art masterpieces and writing works of music that would be enjoyed for generations to come.  We would invent things and learn to live off the land all while memorizing the entire Bible.  But, not only would we memorize the entire Bible we would live it out and people would have to veil their faces as we walked by because the Holy Spirit would be radiating out of the ends of our hair.  Not only would we be incredibly spiritual we would have fun.  The kids would become fluent in Latin, Hebrew, Greek and Laughter.  Our neighbors would have to call the cops because the laughter and jolly joy making would drive them nuts and all the children of the neighborhood would be knocking on the door begging for me to home school them.

None of this has happened yet.  I never expected that these reasonable expectations would be interrupted by laundry, dishes, dusting, vacuuming and life.  And never did I count on the fact that if I only draw stick figures and am tone deaf that this would somehow hinder my ability to teach my children these skills.  I never counted on all the crying that would occur when someone just doesn't understand that you have to add the ones column before you add the tens column.  I never knew how hard it would be to teach a child to read when I pronounce short "e" and short "i" the same way and they pronounce the letter "f" and the letter "v" the same way.  Not to mention when older siblings try to help them read and the older sibling pronounces the letter "f" and the blend "th" the same way!!  We have not memorized the entire Bible yet.  Most days I just wish it was easier to teach the books of the Old Testament... you try teaching a kid who can't pronounce any letter blends or short vowel sounds to say words like Ecclesiastes, Haggai, and Habakkuk!  Ahhhhhhh!!!!

Finally the amount of pressure that I feel on a daily basis is tremendous.  If I sent them to the public school and they had a horrible 2nd grade teacher there would be hope that in the third grade they would get a wonderful teacher that would inspire them to become a lifetime learner.  This third grade teacher might also be able to make up for lost time in the second grade and all would be rainbows and unicorns.  Instead  my kids are stuck with me.  If I don't inspire them to learn they don't get another chance for a better teacher until college ... assuming that they make it that far.  Now they don't have the option of being on the rainbow and unicorn trail instead they are on the trail towards orange jumpsuits and the license plate making business.

The good news is that I only have 15 years left of this and most importantly God is bigger than all my failures. He's going to have a lot of work ahead of Him!

Bats and elephants. It only happens at Turkey Bottom Haven.

Imagine, if you will, waking up an hour after your alarm was supposed to go off.  You quickly remember that you still have 2.5 hours before you need to be anywhere so there's no need to panic.  You grab your Bible and start reading.  You send off a few text messages all before your feet hit the floor.

Not a bad start to a rather warm January morning.

Realizing that you have paint in your hair from projects that you worked on the day before you decide that a nice shower is in order.  As you pull back the curtain to step in you hear what sounds like a herd of elephants racing past the bathroom door and down the stairs.

You might think to yourself ..."What in the world are they doing?"

Before you complete that thought you hear a horrible shriek and your stomach sinks.  Something is not right and you have a feeling you know what's going on.  You have a split second decision to make, ignore the panic outside the bathroom or quickly hop into the shower and allow your children to fend for themselves.

Soon your oldest screams, "MMMMMMMooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyy!"

And before she says anything you can predict what she's going to say next.

"There's a bbbbbbbaaaaaaaaaatttttttt!!!!!!"

And even though you knew she was going to say it your stomach drops a little bit lower.

Great. Just great.  Nothing like fighting bats off naked.

Grabbing a towel you duck into your room and grab clothes because there is no way, and I mean NO.WAY., you're going to have that killer bat attack you in the nude.  Plus chasing after a bat while swinging a tennis racket in the nude will do nothing but scar your children for life.  It will.  I promise. Don't do it.

Once dressed, complete with winter boots, because even bare feet is too much skin exposed for bat chasing, you get your courage up to whack the bat. At this point it was last seen in your sons' bedroom and you just have to locate the tennis racket.

Why is it that you're tiptoeing through the house?  The bat has no idea what you're up to and doesn't know that you're coming for him. If the herd of elephants didn't scare him off your normal walking won't tip him off.

Time to put your man pants on and get the job done.  Finding the tennis racket you work up your courage and open the door a crack.  Sure enough the bat is flying in circles around the room.  You quickly shut the door and swallow the girlie squeal that's stuck in your throat.

As you look down the stairs you see your herd of elephants looking back at you.  You consider posting a guard outside the door all day and leaving it in there until your better more courageous half gets home.  You decide that this is not a viable option.

Again you find the courage to duck back into the room only it's not flying around anymore.  You may have missed your chance... oh, but then you see it hanging in a corner.  If only you brought the BB gun instead of the racket.

You shut the door and go on a wild manhunt for the BB gun; that you have never shot but are completely confident that if you could only get your hands on it your inner sharp shooting skills will prevail over your inexperience.

No luck finding the gun.  Probably better that way, you decide.

You determine that this has gone on long enough and you prepare yourself for your final stand.  Racket in hand, courage in your heart, elephants silently cheering you on with their big innocent eyes you slowly open the door and see that the killer vampire bat (so common to Iowa) is back flying in a pattern.

You take one weak initial swing missing the bat horribly.  But, in response that ugly monster switches his direction.  For whatever reason you switch the racket to your other hand, thinking that the direction of his flight pattern determines which hand your required to use (I think this was covered at the Geneva Convention).  Another awkward swing at the bat and you start to doubt that you can do this.

Quick pep talk reminds you that you've done this at least 10 times before and that you really can do it.  Pep talk works and you stand up tall, shoulders back and take a final swing.

Success!  He falls to the ground among a pile of marble run pieces.  You quickly run over and see that he's still breathing.  You will not fall apart now.  You yell for the oldest boy elephant to grab a shovel, before realizing that a shovel may be overkill.  Grabbing a nearby box you scoop him into it with the racket and run wildly to the door where the littlest elephant is staring at you with wide eyes.  You may start hollering at him to open the door and as his chubby fingers fail to open a door a third time you may be convinced that the bat will regain consciousness and somehow find his way out of the box before your young chubby elephant will get that door open.

Before you know it the door is opened and your flinging the bat onto the front yard.

At this point you expect news crews to show up at your doorstep and ask you how you did it.  You will look stronger, taller and sexier than you ever have before and you will have not only  have the respect and admiration of 5 adorable elephants, but the entire world will pat you on the back as you walk down the street.

I know because it happened to me once.

Update:
Killer bat remains in front yard.

Not for young readers...

Have you ever seen a dead baby?

I have.  I will never forget her either.  How could I?

She was perfectly formed from her little button nose to her kissable chin and ears that curved along her lobes that didn't attach to her face.  She was pink, like all of my newborns, but graying almost from the inside out.

The grayish color seemed to be overtaking her and even now it turns my stomach.

She was swaddled in a blanket and placed in some weird bassinet that looked more like a coffin than a baby bed. 

Her mom went into early labor.  The doctors gave her a shot in hopes that the contractions would stop.  She had a reaction to the medicine that sent her into horrific seizures.  The mom, my friend, was dying. 

The doctors gave her boyfriend a choice... the mom or the baby.  He didn't have the luxury of time, he had to make the call literally in the matter of seconds. 

They had an 18 month old son at home.  He made the decision that he lives with to this day.  He picked his girlfriend, now wife, and not the baby.

Can you imagine the horror of that moment?  Or hours later when his girlfriend woke up and realized that she was no longer pregnant and asked about their baby? 

I have often thought of this precious life that was lost so early... I wonder what she would have been and wrestle with the images of her lifeless body.  It is something that on this side of eternity that I will ever forget.  It's one of those things that get filed in the "To ask God about later" folders in my head. 

A single moment in life that will forever be marked in my mind and will continue to bring great sadness to my heart.  Life isn't meant to be lost before it even started.

I wonder as the ban on women in the front lines has now ended what we have done in the name of equality?  What images will be branded in the minds of women as they fight for freedom.  I'm just not sure that we have been made to do this task. 

I know that it is not something that I ever want my daughters to face.

Help a Mama out!

Emma is having a rough time lately.  She's a girl.  Obvious, right?  As a girl she's also a little emotional and she comes by that naturally.  Not only does she come from a long line of criers, there's also that first girl Eve that we would all like to kick in the teeth for her dumb dumbness!

Ohhh, do not even get me started on Eve.

Back to Emma.  Yesterday I found her in her room with the lights off, the radio playing leaning up against the steps to her bunk bed sobbing.  She's 8.  She's also a girl.  But, I honestly thought this scenario would take 5 more years to develop!

Weeks before this she was crying because she doesn't have any friends.  Her older sister has a hand full of girls her age and whenever they see each other there is hugging and much rejoicing.  Emma has no one to hug or to join in a chorus of squeals at least she claims that she doesn't.

Yesterday was a reminder that she didn't have the friends that she would like to have.  Her Awana handbook had various tasks that she's to complete in order to be a better friend.  But, she feels like she doesn't have any friends, so how can she be a better friend to nobody?

So when I found her crying alone in her bedroom, I had an idea of what was going on.  I started stroking her hair and let her cry for awhile.  She immediately clings to my middle and as a fun mixture of tears and snot fall on my shirt I am mindful of keeping my gagging to bare minimum. 

"Emma, what's wrong baby girl?"
"I miss Gus."

The "I miss [our dead Cocker Spaniel that I don't really remember]" is her go to answer.  Anything involving tears or sadness somehow ties directly to the dead dog.  If that dog would have escaped the clutches of death all would be right in the world.  Well, that and if Eve would have never touched that dang piece of fruit...

"No Emma.  What's really wrong?"
Out pours the many woes of a lonely 8 year old girl.  Oh, how I wish the dead dog answer would've stuck.  

And so what do you do?  I don't dare tell her that she needs to pray for a friend.  I once prayed for a friend and that did not go the way I had envisioned it and I'm not about to do that to her.

I could tell her to make Jesus her bestie, but I'm not sure that's Scriptural.  Though our culture of over saturated lovey dovey-ness would make you think that Jesus came to the earth to be our BFF... I don't think that's what He had in mind. 

I actually just had a picture in my mind of Jesus wearing thousands of those best friend heart necklaces.  The ones where it says, "Best" on one side of the heart and "Friend" on the other side and you and your friend each wear one half!  Would it be inappropriate to also mention that he looked like Mr. T in a robe and sandals too?  Probably.  Best if I don't say that then.

Emma loves everyone and I really think that she has a lot more friends then she realizes.  It's just that they're not as visible as Hannah's crew of hugging, screaming, we just entered a rock concert groupie friends are.

So, what did I say?  Something about how her daddy and I would always love her.  How God loves her.  How her siblings love her.  How the number of friends is never as important as how good of friends that she has. Nothing profound.  Nothing blog worthy really.  But, I am wondering what other moms have said to their lonely children?

Help a Mama out!

A little advice take it or I'll PYITNOJ

Have you ever been in a situation where you think... I should walk up to that complete stranger, give her a piece of my mind, and if she tries to say something back I will punch her in the name of Jesus?

Or is that only me?

I'm not so certain that God is pleased with punching in the name of Jesus, so I held back.  Besides, Ben thinks that I'm a crazy person and told me that I couldn't go say anything to the woman.  He's such a spoil sport some times.

So, here's what happened.

We received an amazingly generous gift certificate to HuHots as a Christmas present and took the Turkeys out for a late lunch.  While we were there I noticed a very young couple with two young kids.  The older of the two children looked barely over a year and the baby was in an infant carrier.  The couple was so young that I actually wondered if they were just babysitting the kids. They intrigued me and I have a horrible staring problem.

The one year old was playing with his food and dropped a few noodles onto the floor.  He was not throwing a fit or being what I would say would be "naughty".  But, it annoyed the mom.  So much so that she grabbed her son's face and said in a angry whisper, "Eat your f*&%$#g food or I'm going to take you into the bathroom and beat your a$$."

Take a moment to soak that up.

He was little.  She was young.  She didn't follow through.

She did look at her boyfriend/husband/friend and laugh after she said it.

Not sure if that meant she was just joking with her son or if she was just being super cool by saying those things.

Either way it was completely inappropriate and broke my heart.

After telling Ben what she said and seeing his sickened expression I knew that I wasn't alone in my response.  Though he seemed to think that I couldn't get involved by the whole PITNOJ plan I had.  (Um, that's short for punching in the name of Jesus ... it's going to be bigger than LOL.)  Seriously, what is with him being so calm?

So, if there was to be no punching on this day, I decided my next response should be to pray.  I prayed for the little boy's heart.  I prayed for the mom to receive wisdom from an older more mature woman who could help her parenting skills.  I prayed that I would have the opportunity to say something constructive and not lash out in my anger.

Turns out that as we were walking out of HuHots so were they ... and they headed in the same direction that we were ... and they happened to cut me off from the rest of my family and I needed to get around them.  So I decided that as I was walking by I would say something:

"Are both of these babies yours?" I said.
"Yep!" She replied seemingly pleased with herself.
And then the only words that came to my mind were angry words.  Words that would just make her defensive and ticked off.
So I kept walking.

We stopped at a bathroom and I prayed more.  "Please give me another opportunity to say something that will build into that young mom's life."  I prayed that if God would have me to say what I planned on saying (without anger or punching) that I would run into them again.

We left the bathroom and I kept my eyes peeled for them. Lo and behold they were walking straight towards us!!  I cleared my throat and gave myself a pep talk.

And then they turned and went the other direction.  Shootfire.  I lost my opportunity.

So here's my advice to all the mama's out there.  Take it or leave it:

Please be wise with your words.  Because your words are written on the tablet of your child's heart forever.