interruptions

A little boy is feeling a bit under the weather and wakes up with a stuffy nose and whimpers and tosses and turns. He is confused about being so rudely awakened by an uncooperative nose. His mama is frustrated that she's right in the middle of something and isn't usually interrupted at night. But, she goes up to rub his back. He reaches for her, hopping to his knees as soon as he hears her footfall on his carpeted floor, arms around her neck as soon as he senses her leaning over him in the dark room. She wipes his nose, gives him a drink of water, tries to get him to lay down so she can rub his back. He protests with louder whimpers and tighter squeezes, so she brings him to the glider. He situates himself just so, head in the crook of her arm where it's fit so perfectly all these years, legs hanging over the edge of the glider, even more than they did yesterday, it seems. She rocks and rocks as she's done for three children for seven years. The rhythm is the same. The shooshing is the same. His breathing becomes rhythmic, slow, deep. His arms loosen, relax, give up the fight. She breathes in this peacefulness, thankful for this sleepy weight in her arms. After a while she thinks about standing up, putting him back in his bed. It's possible she shifts forward a bit, and as she does, his hands fly up, fingers clasping tightly around her neck, the word "mama" out of his drowsy mouth by instinct alone. She resumes the rocking, reveling in this quiet, this moment that rarely happens in a home with three growing up kiddos. After a while, a long while really, she places him back in his bed, leans over him, rubs his back, and whispers a prayer of thanks for interruptions.

then and now

then

now

then

now

Audrey and Isaac celebrated their last day of co-op last Tuesday. They have grown and learned and developed so much in these nine months. The ink hadn't even dried on Isaac's certificate when he said, "Well, I guess that means I'm a 2nd grader." Ugh. Give me a minute, will you, kiddo?

The gift of Isaac

I heard Isaac crying upstairs. It was 10:47 p.m. I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, certain I would be greeted by the stench of vomit. That's the only reason he wakes up. But this time was different. He was standing on the other side of the door, as if waiting for me, mumbling, "mama, mama" through his tears and choking sobs. I grabbed onto him in a tight hug, assuring him I was there. I asked if he was sick, if his tummy hurt. His words made little sense, but I understood the answer was no. He continued mumbling incoherently so I assumed it was a bad dream, interrupting his sleep and confusing his exhausted mind. I helped him back into bed, turned on his CD, and laid down next to him to rub his back until he could escape to peaceful sleep.

The first song of his CD started and I was no longer laying on a mattress on the floor of a 7-year-old's room. I was in a little square of a polka-dotted bedroom on Jackson Street, rocking a baby who liked to rub my tongue while he nursed and gazed and rocked and rocked. The song hit me. I could feel his unblemished baby skin and smell his milky baby scent. It was intoxicating. This was the song I hated to hear because it meant my day with Isaac was almost over. I allowed myself to rock him for two songs as we chatted and wound down from our day and sang and prayed. It was my little self-imposed curfew to prevent me from rocking him until morning, contented by his weight in my arms and his pudgy fingers in my hand.

And I remembered every single one of those feelings, as I rubbed the long, lean back of my growing too quickly boy who will never again curl up into my arms. And I was sad. Sad because babies are so easy and, oh, the pudgy thighs and the squeals of delight and the sleepless nights easily forgotten once the day starts and the world is new again because you're seeing it through the eyes of a baby. Yes. I was sad. But I was happy, too. Because I'll always miss those things, but what I have is even better. I have a loving, fun-filled, dynamic relationship with a really cool boy who I'm praying and betting is going to turn into an awesome young man. Where before I was his world and he was mine, now we get to explore the world together. And I get to see it through the eyes of a curious, bright, hilarious, excitable seven-year-old.

What a beautiful gift. What a beautiful boy!

It's that time of year

It's time to tend the little plot of land in our backyard that somehow produces veggies in spite of our shoddy weeding and overall lack of gardening knowledge. But, we keep coming back because it's pretty fun to dig in the dirt, touch worms, and eat green onions that must have seeded and are already up this spring. Or, it's fun until Elliot and Audrey get tired, pull up lawn chairs, and watch me weed from the comfort of their chairs. I'm glad I can be their entertainment! Once we get it all weeded, a definite work in progress, we'll start planting.

audrey digs in with her little rake

elliot looks as overwhelmed as I feel every time I start weeding

what concentration!

eating a raw green onion straight from the garden. All three of them "scarfed them," as Elliot said

Isaac dug in, careful to steer clear of the itch weed and thistles





Tea and dancing. What more could an Audrey want?

May 21, 2011 was a big day in Audrey's world. Yes, her uncle happened to turn 31. No, the world did not end. Yes, Audrey had a fantastic day with her grandmas and aunts. Of course, not everyone could make it and they were definitely missed, but a great time was had by all! We even got to use a table runner made by Audrey's great-grandma Gert who died a few years ago. It was very special. Audrey was so happy all day, which made the rest of us really happy, too. Her smile is so joyous and beautiful, although I admit I am a bit biased!

 Audrey's little cousin, Beckett, had fun at the party, too. The beautiful, contrasting colors of their eyes are gorgeous!

 Grandma Patti, Great-great-grandma B, Great-great-grandma Fischer, Nana

 Our annual five generations picture. We are so blessed!

 The gang's all here! Not the best picture, but with a self-timer, a 9-month-old, and a 94-year-old, you work with what you have!

 craft time.

 followed by a dance recital. It was so precious!
The kids had to pose for a silly picture with grandma and grandpa before saying goodbye and goodnight. What a fun day!

We are truly blessed to be surrounded by such love. Audrey may not realize the depth of it now, the way she is prayed for and cared for and loved by family near and far, but I hope that one day she will look back at these pictures and reminisce about these days and feel her heart swell with the love of generations. Then I hope she will pass it on to those around her.

channeling her inner Oprah

It finally hit me during breakfast on Wednesday. Audrey is the spawn of Oprah Winfrey. Famous for her excited exaltations and random joyous outbursts, she is passionate and excitable and infectious. Hmm, remind you of any girl who resides in my house?

We were all sitting around the kitchen table enjoying our breakfast. Isaac was talking about something going on this weekend. Audrey loves to practice her days and her counting, so she started counting from Wednesday to Saturday. "Thursday (one finger up), Friday (two fingers up), Saturday (three fingers up). It's three days until Saturday." And here's where it got exciting and totally Oprah. "It's three days because tomorrow is THURSDAY!!" Out of nowhere, for no apparent reason, Thursday was worthy of a shout, two hands thrown up in the air, a deeper tone and a weird accent for extra flair.

Jim and I nearly died. She could have been her own Oprah Saturday Night Live skit in that moment.

more cute dance pictures from dress rehearsal

with her dancing peeps

little miss Oprah

The cherry on top

Tonight we sang lullabies in the glider that he is not yet ready to say goodbye to. I tucked him in and gave him a few extra kisses because I say squeeze in as many kisses as possible while you can. I turned to leave and as I hit the doorway he said, “Mama.” I turned in time to see his round little head pop up off of his pillow.


“I love you, mama.
"I love you, Elliot."
"And I love playing with you, mama."
"I love playing with you, too."
“And I love going to church with you, mama."
Emotions prevented me from replying at this point.
“And I love you. I love mama.”

His little head rested back on his pillow.

mother's day

It is Mother's Day. I am a mother. This has me reflecting. The joys of motherhood have overwhelmed me countless times. The trials of motherhood have left me feeling defeated a time or two. The excitement of watching children grow into their own selves has been inspiring and glorious. The drama of disciplining the same annoyances time and again has been exhausting. Being a mother has been so much more than I could have expected or hoped for. The feeling of fullness, love, and joy I feel in being a part of these three lives cannot be described. There are hard days and fantastic days, days I've like to have back and days I'd like to live over and over again. That God chose me to be mama to these three children is a gift I will never tire of thanking God for!

In spite of the love I genuinely feel to the very core of me, I haven't been a very good mama lately. My job description for the past 7+ years has been pretty basic: wife and mama. Of course that means very different things on different days, but it is the essence of my chosen and loved roles in life. I've never been perfect, but I've been mostly present and loving and kind and patient. For some ridiculous reason, lately it has been much easier for me to show love to strangers, people in different towns and different states and different countries, than it has been for me to show love to the people in my own home, the people I love the very most. I have been failing at both of my jobs. Therefore, I have not felt much like celebrating.

Today my kids gave me some extremely sweet homemade Mother's Day cards. Isaac sang with his kids' choir in church and had a solo in a song called, "Mother," which left my crying like a baby. Audrey's Sunday School teacher bought roses for the kids to give to their moms. The flowers from my MI family bloomed purple and yellow as if they knew they should look their most beautiful today. There was plenty of celebrating in spite of me.

But at the end of the day, I told my kids the truth. I've been grouchy lately. I haven't been as good of a mama as they deserve. I haven't been as patient or as playful. I love them so very much, but  my actions were not showing that love as often as it should. And that was not okay and I was very sorry.

I said that just like Isaac says he likes hugs when he is getting frustrated, maybe they could give me a hug when I'm being impatient to remind me to be nicer. Or maybe we could think of a silly word they could say as a code word. Audrey came up with crazydogwoof and when someone says that I have to run around and smother them with kisses while I tickle them.

If they say crazy giraffe, we all have to try to lick our elbows. Since, you know, giraffes have ridiculously long tongues and humans are incapable of licking their elbows. But it sure is funny to try.

It is mother's day. I am a Mother. It is the best, hardest job in the world. Thank you, Isaac, Audrey, and Elliot, for being your hilarious, sweet, cuddly, curious, delightful selves. I love you so so much! And I'll make sure I show you in ways big and small.

It is Mother's Day. I am a daughter, too. That job is just easy. Most of the time! Thank you, mom, for being your hilarious, supportive, strong, loving self. I love you. Even when the Hallmark cards don't do our relationship justice and you don't have a card to open on Mother's Day. I love you!

sneak peek

Audrey's recital is coming up soon and she had pictures Saturday morning. The costume is adorable and Audrey looked just beautiful, if I do say so myself. It was so sweet to watch her prance around, feeling fancy with her make-up and special bun. Her recital and tea party are coming up quickly and she is almost beside herself with excitement. And, for a girl who lives life excited, an extra boost of excitement is quite a site to behold.

speaking of big boy

Elliot wrote his name! He's written Os before, but decided to bust out his entire name, minus an L, on the first try. I guided his hand a bit on the E so the three lines were close to where they belong, but other than that he was on his own. Is he really allowed to be so darn big?

big boys doing big boy things

It was a big day for a certain big boy in our house. The end result was this:

See that smile? See those dimples? They were on display all evening as he ran from room to room proclaiming, "This is the best bed I ever had!!!" This is the end result, but it took some work to get there. Of course I have photographic proof.

 Elliot and Audrey stood in the middle of his crib waiting for his dada to "open the gate" so they could come out.

 Here he's helping his safety conscious brother (who was excited to wear goggles like Amare Stoudamire) and his dada carry part of the bed from Isaac's room to Elliot's. (Isaac will sleep on a mattress on the floor until his loft bed, waiting patiently for more stain and lots of varnish, is ready. He was more than happy to give up the bed and loved seeing how happy it made his little brother.)

 Here he is looking way too cute for words.

 Screwing the bed together. Side note: He calls this his "peace, no fighting" shirt.

 The bed is put together so it's time for mattress hauling. Elliot said, "Look, mama. Two kids can do this job!"

 Laying on "the best bed." And, cue dimples!

 He couldn't wait to have his legs covered up under his truck sheets. He seemed most excited about the fire trucks.

 Isaac said, "It's an Elliot sandwich."

One last good night snuggle from mama. He kept asking if my feet were under the covers so I had to keep reminding him that I wasn't going to sleep in his bed, just cuddle while we prayed and sang and talked. My sweet boy said, "I want to keep you forever, mama. I want to keep you til you die. I want to die at the same time as you." Big boy sleeping in a big boy bed thinking deep, big boy thoughts. Oh how I love this boy comfortably snoozing the night away on the best bed he ever had! Just in case you ever wonder.

on being human

Sometimes I shout when I should hug. Sometimes I give an exasperated sigh when I should smile and count to three, or 20. Sometimes I read a book when I should do the dishes. Sometimes I go to bed when I should fold the laundry. Sometimes I issue an ultimatum when I should listen. Sometimes I say no when I should say yes. Sometimes I worry when I should pray. Sometimes I blog when I should go to bed. Sometimes I question when I should trust. Sometimes I retort with anger when I should shut my mouth. Sometimes I judge when I should reflect. Sometimes I hesitate when I should plunge. Sometimes I plunge when I should hesitate. Sometimes. Sometimes. Sometimes. . .

There are times I look at my life as if from a distance. I step back and watch this life, this family, this vibrant, caring, somewhat opinionated girl skip down the sun-kissed sidewalk, glancing this way and that, her bouncy ponytail whipping in the breeze, as she looks for cars before crossing the street. This strong, generous, sometimes easily frustrated boy be-bopping down the sidewalk, forever bouncing something. This time it is a basketball and the thump thump of the ball almost keeps time to the constant questions that wile the days away in his curious mind until they make their way out of his mouth in a rapid fire stream of wonderment. This growing, tender, periodically whining boy content in his stroller, holding dandilions in his still pudgy hands, glancing back now and then to smirk and say, " I can see you, mama. I love you, mama. Can I get out and walk now, mama?"

I step back and see my life for what it is: pretty close to perfect. But I am human and I feel settled and content for a stretch, sometimes long and sometimes brief, but then doubts enter into my mind and my soul. I went to Costa Rica for many reasons. I searched out a global mission trip for many reasons. One of them was to put my life into perspective. To see my life through another lens, a more realistic lens, in hopes that I would come back focused on what is important, more appreciative of what I have, more dedicated to service and giving, more passionate about living as Christ lived.

The thing is, it backfired. I came back and almost everything I thought I cared about seemed unimporant. On a dime. A flip switched. Instantaneously. Unexpectedly. The world and its woes were screaming in my ear and I could not quiet them. The children of the world were crying and nothing would drown out their sobs. I went through the motion of cooking my children healthy meals, all the while thinking of the kids who had nothing to eat at all. I went through the motion of playing outside with my kids, all the while thinking of the kids who could only look out of their barb-wired windows for fear of violence. I went through the motion of tucking my kids in at night, all the while thinking of the kids who hear no lullabies, know no kind words, feel no gentle hugs.

It has been, and remains, a near constant struggle. I don't have the answers. Most days I don't even know the question. I do know one thing: going through the motions isn't enough. My family deserves more. So I search for understanding, trying to discern what God wants me to gain from this experience, how I am to use it to better myself, my family, my place in this beautiful, wild world. Right now, confusion reigns, but I believe that beauty can come from chaos and life can come from death. I have to believe.

But I also have to remind myself every single day that believing isn't enough. One of my favorite bible verses says:
 "Dear children, let us love not with words or tongue, but with action and and in truths." 1 John 3:18
I can write and think and pray until the cows come home, but until my actions speak and proclaim God's love, it means nothing. And that remains a near constant struggle, too. So when my doubts reach new heights and my uncertainty overwhelms me and my feelings of discontent hurt my heart, I remember Jesus' words, spoken to his disciples as they traversed  a stormy sea, but just as appropriate for a stormy season of life. "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" Mark 4:40.

bound and determined

Because she saw a hint of this:

which is sunshine, for those of you that live in our state
and didn't recognize it after such a long absence

 Audrey was bound and determined to wear a sundress. Although the sun was shining, it was certainly not sundress weather. Never one to be deterred, she opted for the sundress over the tie dye shirt over the hooded sweatshirt over the tights on top of the galoshes complemented by a big pair of sunglasses.

 And she was the happiest girl on the block!

puddle jumping and throwing dying worms back into the grass

brothers

These boys of mine are so darn cute. And, yes, Elliot has a ponytail in. Why? Because his sister does and that girl of mine is so darn cute, too.

Tonight we were chatting with Audrey when Jim walked into Elliot's room. He just started laughing. Really, what else can you do when you see Isaac on his knees, holding on to Elliot's ankles as his legs point straight up into the air and his hands are on the ground? Elliot said, we're wrestling. Isaac said, no we're not. He's going down my slide. Either way, it was hilarous. Silly brothers.

side trip

 We drove to MI for Easter and decided to have a little adventure along the way. Instead of taking our usual route, we drove through the UP, crossed the 5 mile long Mackinac Bridge, stayed at a hotel in Mackinaw City, and took a ferry over to Mackinac Island for some cold, but really fun, hiking. We all had a great time, despite the fact that we forgot the hiking backpack, that it was F-R-E-E-Z-I-N-G, that we were the only tourists on the island, and that nothing was open. We are an easily entertained bunch, content to hike, throw rocks and sticks, explore Fort Holmes, check out caves and rock formations, imagine what we will see on our next visit when Fort Mackinac is open for the season, and wipe runny noses.

hotel beds are great for wrestling. Apparently they're not so great for sleeping in. We got a free upgrade to adjoining rooms so I and A had their own beds and Elliot was in a crib. In spite of a long day's drive, lots of swimming, and a late bedtime, E decided to sing and chat for over an hour, keeping I and A awake. Gotta love vacations!

the first ferry of the season

isaac can't wait to return to tour fort mackinac. he is still trying to figure out why they would fight over that little island

arch rock

 

elliot did his best to climb up the many steps to the beautiful scenic overlooks

but it always ended like this: me carrying him up the many steps. In fact, on the way down we counted over 140. Therefore, this mini-rest was much-deserved.

standing on top of the lookout of Fort Holmes

we told Elliot to sit on the bench when he got tired. Does he look tired? : )

our beautiful trail

we both got to carry various children

the view of the bridge from the island