blessings

Tonight we were listening to Cuatro's playlist, the songs I listened to while in labor with Asher. One of the songs is "Blessings" by Laura Story.

First verse and Chorus:

"We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise"

Tonight Audrey was sewing a little bear, following instructions from a kit she got for Christmas. Isaac was putting together a robot with Jim's help. Elliot was getting Tenzi ready. I listened to the song, singing along to the lyrics while holding Asher in my lap as he smiled and cooed at me and I wept. Elliot came over, touched my arm, and said, "You're crying happy tears." Tonight the tears were happy.

I listened to this same song, all alone in my car, sometime in 2012. My singing was more like a scream. My tears were angry, sad, irate, furious tears. I listened to the chorus and screamed, "Then you're an a#$hole, God. Why does it have to hurt so bad? What am I supposed to do? Where are you? What the hell am I supposed to do?" And other angry, infuriated things. See, I never lost my faith that God was here, I just questioned God's tactics. And while I don't generally swear at God, I also remember thinking that God could handle my questioning. That our relationship could weather this storm. That my shrieking felt like prayer. That I was at my weakest and had been at my weakest for so long and I couldn't go on without God picking me up. That I had no strength left, nothing else to give. 

There were a lot of really painful things going on in my life at that point and I saw no chance at a happy ending. Or even a mediocre ending. Every way I looked, I felt trapped and I saw my life unfolding in one disappointing moment after another. I loved my kids. I could still see the beauty in their lives and their wonder, but the rest of my life felt empty. I was going through the motions of life, just trying to get through each day without losing it. It was one day in a succession of days that make up the low point of my life.

But I trudged on. I got up each day and got dressed most days and put on a smile some days and just kept going. It wasn't pretty. But it was life.

I'd hear this song periodically on the radio and wonder what it could mean for me, assuming the answer was nothing. It would never get better for me. The hurt would never lead to beauty. My tears would never lead to healing.

I was wrong.

So stupendously wrong.

To say I have been overwhelmed by the grace and beauty God has shown me through my trials is a tremendous understatement. To say I am in a place I never ever in a million years thought I'd be is another understatement.

I will add the hopefully inferred caveat that life is not perfect. I still get annoyed with my husband and he still wishes I was better at putting away clean clothes and shutting cupboards. My kids still throw fits and argue about whose turn it is to brush their teeth first. I still lose my temper with them and say things I immediately regret. People still get cancer. They still die. People still say horrible things to each other. Life is still life, with its ups and downs. But there is a sweetness to it that I haven't had the joy of tasting until now.

Maybe because I've been in that place where I thought things were as bad as they could be and would never get better. But I do feel God closer. I do see God's presence in the small, beautiful moments of my day. I do see God's hand in my life each time my baby smiles at me and each time my husband holds my hand. I do see God's compass guiding me as I practice patience and grace and experience joy and laughter with my children.

I am blown away by the gifts that I have received as a result of my trials and hardships. Those gifts go by the names thanksgiving, joy, faithfulness, patience, peace. And, more specifically, Asher. I know with certainty that without the depths of my despair, there is no Asher Michael. And that is unimaginable.

So, tonight I cried happy tears. For the joy I feel when I look at my family. For the peace I feel in knowing I'm just where I'm supposed to be. For how dang far Jim and I have come and for the hope I have that we can do even better. For the certainty that I can get through all that life throws at me. For these four kids that I just love more than words could express, even though I spend a lot of words trying. For this life that is messy and hard and sweet and beautiful. For all of it and for all of the good that is to come, the good that God has planned for me even though I don't even know to ask for it. Because God's plans, hot dog, they blow my plans out of the water. Which is why I will continue thanking God for my blessings. Over and over again, thank you.

sleep

On December 26 I made the mistake of telling one person, namely my mom, that Asher had his own Christmas miracle by sleeping five entire hours in a row the night before. I said it not to brag, but in utter astonishment. This is so far away from the norm that I could hardly believe it.

That night I put him down at 8 pm and he was up four times by 10:30 pm. Between Jim's cold-induced freight train snoring and Asher's night-time wake ups, I saw every hour between the hours of 11 and 7 except for 12. Then he took four naps, with not a single one of them lasting longer than 40 minutes.

Last night I put Asher down at 8 pm and he was up four times by 10:30 pm. Again. And that trend continued until 5:17 am when he was up for an hour and a half before having mercy on me and sleeping until 9:20 am. This is the truth. I'm too tired to exaggerate. (Jim just slept in the basement because, as he put it, "I was snoring so loud I woke myself up.")

My goal for Christmas break was to work on Asher's sleeping. He's having a good old chuckle about that one.

The good news is that he remains surprisingly smiley and easy going throughout the day. I don't quite know how he does it since he's not getting nearly enough sleep, but he does it.

He will sleep eventually. Or he'll be old enough to handle it on his own and I can continue sleeping.

the gift

The big kids were upstairs, spending their Christmas reading hour surrounded by new toys, books, crafts, and sports cards. I sat across the table from my husband as he held our son and had a beautiful, cooing, babbling, deep breath, hand flailing talk with a little baby boy that I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd have the pleasure to meet. It was a wonderful moment in a wonderful day. He is such a beautiful gift. One I never expected, but one that I thank God for approximately three hundred forty times each day.

Tonight before I tucked him in, I looked into his beautiful eyes and told him, "I never expected to be sharing this Christmas with you, but I sure am glad you're here."

beautiful baby

so happy to see mama after nap

"reading"

a conversation from later in the day

 

my soul magnifies the lord

We sat in church. I was holding my 4-month-old and I was flanked by my 5 and 9 year old sons who could not keep their gentle hands or kissy lips off of their baby brother. Next to the 9 year old was the 7 year old daughter who kept leaning over to kiss Asher. Really. I thought the novelty would have worn off by now, but goodness they just love that kid and shower him with love in the form of hugs, kisses, coos, head and back rubs. (It is mostly the sweetest thing ever and also somewhat overwhelming.) Jim held down the fort at the other end of the pew. Yes, we officially take up an entire side pew. Who'd a thunk it?!

My heart was feeling full as I watched the light snow fall outside the windows of our beautiful church. A church that feels like a little home away from home for us, with people who greet us by name and with smiles and with so much kindness.

Then the choir started singing "My Soul Magnifies the Lord" and my full heart overflowed with gratitude.

The chorus sings,
"My soul, my soul magnifies the Lord
My soul magnifies the Lord.
He has done great things for me,
great things for me."

And I took stock of the people taking up the whole dang pew with me. And my song was silenced as I bit my lip and cried. Cried because of all the love I felt for the people around me and because of how close I came to losing it all and how much I have to look forward to.

And I want my life to reflect that. I want it to reflect and magnify my immense gratitude at all of this beauty and good.  

these days. these moments.

Tonight Elliot was carefully writing the words TO DADA XOXO FROM Elliot XOXO on Jim's Christmas gift. (shout out to Elliot for his amazing progress on his writing. Nice work, buddy!) Audrey was wrapping the present she picked for Jim all by herself. Isaac was sitting on the couch reading his latest sports book since he was already done with his gift wrapping. Jim, not one to spoil the surprise, was upstairs giving Asher his bath. It was so quiet. The kids were concentrating so hard and so excited about the surprises they had chosen for their dad.

It struck me, as it does now and again, that these are the days that make up a life. These are the moments that form the basis for our relationships. This right now. This. Now. Gosh, I felt so big and so little in that thought. I just sat in it for a while, thinking and watching these people I love so much. The universe felt like it was unwrapping a gift just for me to hold in my hand. The importance of these days. The magnitude of these simple interactions. My little space in all of it.

Audrey forgot to put something in the box for Jim and we didn't realize it until it was wrapped. I mentioned that she wrapped it by herself, so it took some time and effort and she was disappointed that she had to unwrap it and do it all over again. Of course, we would notice this right as I'm trying to put Asher to bed and get everyone else ready for bed. I instructed her on how to handle it and then went up to feed Asher and tuck him in.

Then I remembered: These are the moments that form the basis for our relationships. And I thought of Audrey in the basement, maybe struggling with a big roll of wrapping paper. Maybe getting tired and frustrated. And I carried a feeding Asher down the stairs, past the boy on the couch, to the basement to check on Audrey. She had just finished rewrapping it and she showed me the parts she had trouble with and we talked about what could make it easier next time. She laughed that I was walking around carrying a feeding, sleeping Asher who was kind of snorting like a pig while he ate.

Maybe she wouldn't have cared if I'd stayed upstairs. I don't know. Maybe it wasn't a big deal at all. But it felt like something to me. It felt like a little extra love. And, by George, a little extra love is always a good idea.

Asher boy is 4 months old

Nicknames: Asher boy, boo boo, sweet cheeks, baby blocker

LIKES: Mama. Tummy time. Playing in his new exersaucer. Being held. Breast milk. Mornings. moby wrap. Being sung to. Baths. Having his bare back rubbed. If I keep him held and fed, he is a happy, happy boy.

DISLIKES: Sleeping long stretches. Car trips (sometimes).

EATING: obviously, yes.

SLEEPING: He still naps and sleeps in his bunny bassinet, although he's slept in his crib a few times this month. Oh, his sleeping is not fantastic. In fact, right now, it's quite horrible. He takes 3 or 4 naps each day and goes to bed between 7:30 and 9, depending on if he takes a last evening nap. Then he'll usually do one 3-4 hours stretch of sleep. After that, he's up often. I'm working on getting him back to sleep without feeding him. It is an uphill battle. But, I'm thankful he's so very happy during the day and I'm confident he'll sleep better at some point.

PLAYING: He likes to look at himself in the mirror. He's discovered his hands and loves to suck on them. He's grabbed his foot twice while I've changed his diaper, too. He's in the shove everything into his mouth stage, which is especially cute since his hand/eye coordination isn't all that great. He watches the world, makes eye contact until it stresses him out, and watches his siblings play. He really loves to hear singing. He loves tummy time and his new exersaucer. He likes to hear stories, too.

MILESTONES: He has the sweetest coo and will respond back when we chatter with him. His laughs are getting bigger and louder, especially when the big kids talk gobbled-gook to him. His head and neck are so strong and he is always trying to pull himself up in the pike position. He tracks things and has started watching us eat with much interest. He loves to play with his tongue and make funny faces, even mimicking us sometimes. There is so much to celebrate and look forward to in his little life!

seriously

There is a reason sleep deprivation is used as torture in hostile situations. I'd write more, but I can no longer function. A little kitchen clean up, a little laundry folding, and I will get myself up to bed in hopes of grabbing a few (please!?) hours of sleep before the adorable, loveable, hilarious sleep monster starts his nightly torment.

hard. humbling. beautiful.

I'm all up in here tending to people's needs. Feeding on demand. Picking up the crying baby. Making the meals. Teaching the lessons. Rubbing tired shoulders. Singing lullabies. Reading books. Dancing to Christmas songs. Slipping boots onto little feet. Cleaning the bathroom. Kissing the boo boo. Rubbing the bumped funny bone that isn't actually at all funny. You know, being a mom and doing the things moms do. It's all part of our long and convoluted job description.

Then something happens and everything else, that list of jobs, just fades away.

Babies take a lot of mama energy. My babies like to be held and snuggled and oohed and aaahed. It's probably a combination of their personality and the way I mother. It's just how we've done it four times now.

But adding a fourth child when the other kids are so much older is kind of different. I expected it to be easier. ** But today I realized that I forgot just how much a pretty independent, kid needs and wants mama. We've been making an extra effort to have the big kids continue with their activities, going to plays, doing lots of fun stuff, playing outside, but most of it is with Jim. Honestly, it's just easier that way.

And I thought the kids were okay with it. I still taught the school and read the night night stories and tucked in and brushed the teeth and. . . back to the list of things mamas do. but today I realized I was wrong.

One of the kids has been acting out in unexpected ways. It has gotten progressively worse. We've talked about it and talked about it and talked some more. We've devised game plans and given consequences and blah blah blah. Today we were talking yet again after an issue arose. Asher was playing on his playmat while the other two kids entertained him. He started to squawk so I went out to get him when I realized, duh, things had gotten worse when we brought Asher home. (I blame sleep deprivation for the long time it took me to put this simple puzzle together.)

I returned to the room where we had been talking in private and said, "It seems like this has gotten worse since Asher was born. Has that been hard for you?" We talked and talked and talked some more about how the child felt and what's been hard and what's been easy. I tried not to be defensive because I have been doing the best I knew to do and it's hard to hear that isn't enough, but it's even harder to solve problems when one person is on the defensive. I said something like, "Your dad has been playing outside with you more" and the response was, "But I want to play with YOU more."

Punch in gut.

I leaned over. "Can you look at me?" Head shakes no. I rubbed the turned away back. "I need to tell you how brave that was. You were so brave to tell me what was upsetting you and I want you to know I hear you. I hear you and I will do better. Thank you for telling me." Finally a hug. A smile. A game plan that addresses the root cause.

Being a parent is so bloody hard and so ridiculously humbling and so beautifully worth it.

**I am not wishing any of this away. I am not saying it is more than I can handle or that it is too hard or that I think my situation is more difficult than anyone else's situation. It's just what I said. Tougher than I expected.

little, big moments

I have those moments when I just melt about these kids of mine. It rarely happens in the big moments, the family vacations or holidays. It's usually in the little moments that make up a day. We'll be going along and something will happen and I'll be struck, yet again, by the realization that I get to live this life with these people alongside for the ride. How sweet is that? And I am reminded, yet again, not to take it for granted.

Tonight I had Asher on Elliot's bed as I got him ready for bed. I pulled his little onesie over his head and he giggled his sweet little giggle because his back, right near his armpits, is really ticklish. Oh, that little laugh complimented by that big smile is it for me. Swoon-worthy, I tell you. Elliot leaned in close, invading Asher's personal space, as he is known to do, and squealed, "Oh, are you ticklish? Is Asher boy so ticklish?" I wish I could recreate the piercing quality of this high, happy screech, but you'll just have to imagine a munchkin from the Wizard of Oz sucking in a whole container full of helium and letting loose. It was high. It was happy. It was in my face. It was love and adoration served up with a side of giddy joy. And that's pretty much all you need to know about Elliot.

I asked Elliot if he thought Asher would be as ticklish as he is. (More Elliot information: he is the most ticklish kid I have ever known. He is so ticklish he can't even touch his own neck without laughing. It is a sight.) Elliot laughed and said, in that same high, happy voice, "Yes, you'll be as ticklish as me, won't you? You'll be sooo ticklish."

I just looked at them. From one to the other. From this little happy guy, who will someday realize how lucky he is to be loved by this particular five-year-old, to this big happy guy, who lights up my days with his mega watt smile, his never ever behaving hair, and his zaniness. I counted that moment as one of life's greatest blessings.

"When you die, I'll be really lonely."

Not words you expect to hear from your seven year old daughter. It was late. We were driving home after an afternoon of doing all things traditionally Christmas in the Twin Cities area. We caroled with co-op in the morning, visited Macy's 8th floor to see their "Day in the Life of an Elf" display, had a family dinner at Mason's, and watched the last year of the Hollidazzle parade from the warm confines of the skyway along Nicollet. All in all, it was a lovely day with my mom, Keith, Cory, Maclain, Beckett, and our family. It was also a long day. Then Isaac and Elliot were lucky enough to get to drive home in Nana and Babu's rental car, which disappointed an already tired Audrey. I was sitting in the middle of the backseat so I could help Asher stay calm and Audrey was on the other side of me. I rubbed her knee and talked to her as she calmed down. Once the tears dried and Asher was asleep, I gave her knee a squeeze and said, "I just love being by you." In the light of the passing streetlights I saw her eyes light up and her smile dazzle. "Really? I just love being by you," she replied giddily. I assured her that yes, it was true and her smile stayed put and her eyes stayed happy.

Then she got serious. Her smile faded. Her eyes lost their sheen. "When you die, I'll be really, really lonely. I'll miss you so much." I told her that I didn't think I'd die for a really long time, but that when I do die, I'll miss her, too. I guess these are things little girls think about when they watch their mama's friend die from pancreatic cancer. I hate that she has this in her memory bank and I hate that my friend isn't here with her boys. It's horrible. It's beyond comprehension.

She said, "You'll die and I'll live for years and years and years and when I get to heaven I might not recognize you." And that broke my heart. I felt physical pain from her sweet, horrible worry. I told her that I believe that God tells people in heaven when people they know die so that they can welcome them to heaven and celebrate together. I also told her that Asher knew me when he was born even though he'd never seen me. He knew me from my voice, the sounds I make, the beating of my heart, my smell, and if a baby is born knowing its mama, then she will certainly know me and I'll know her because we'll know each other and love each other for years and years.

I squeezed her knee. I rubbed her hair. She leaned her head toward me. Her smile returned, not quite as brightly as before. We drove home. I carried her sleepy body upstairs and put her on her bed and helped her into her pjs. We prayed and sang lullabies. I hugged her tight and kissed her cheek and said, "I love you" and "See you in the morning."

I went to bed and I prayed for many, many, many more good nights and good mornings with my Audrey.

holiday happiness

What a weekend we have had. My mom and Keith flew in on Thursday to celebrate Christmas with our family and the Rutledge family and, boy oh boy, did we celebrate. We visited the Macy's 8th floor Christmas display, watched the Hollidazzle parade from the warmth of a skyway, opened many gifts, baked, decorated, and ate cookies, had a blast playing with all of those gifts, and took in a fantastic football game. Well, Keith, mom, Cory, Isaac, and Elliot went to the game while I laid in bed with flu-like symptoms, wallowing in self pity that I was missing such an incredible game with my boy. But, I am glad they had that fun experience.

I am overwhelmed with thankfulness that my family is so fun and loving and helps me when I am miserably sick. And now, many, many pictures. Like, many. (more coming. Not uploaded to computer yet.)

millions of reasons

"The best day of my life was when I found out you were going to be born," Elliot said to Asher as he gently touched his cheek. "Really?," I asked, awash with mama love. "Yes."

Then the big boy kissed the baby boy and headed to his room for bed. He fell asleep to the glow of Christmas lights woven through the wooden slats in his baseboard. I went up later to look in on him. And I stared and I wondered how one little body could hold so much sweet. And I realized yet again how over the moon I am that these kids call me mama.

This morning Elliot looked at our Christmas tree and ran to me with a worried expression. "Mama, if you hadn't had any kids, you'd only have like five ornaments," he said, his voice dripping with concern. I smiled and agreed and he said how I must be so glad I had kids. Yes, I am. For a million reasons.

It's beginning to look (and smell and feel) a lot like Christmas

Oh, I needed today. Life seems to swing that way for me. Good, good, good, trending bad, really bad, sparklingly amazing. Yesterday was the pits for me. I have lost all baby-birthing adrenaline and am living on not nearly enough sleep and some days it comes to a head. Asher wakes up way too often and I can't figure out how to make it stop. And the days are busy because that's just how life with four kids is, with the teaching and feeding and laundry and games and all that. It's all good stuff, don't get me wrong, but it's still tiring stuff when sleep is at a minimum.

Then last night Asher woke up and stayed awake for about an hour and a half. He never does that. (Please don't let it be a new thing for him.) He wasn't crying, just sitting in my lap cooing away like an adorable little baby, which he would have been if it were daytime. At 3 am, there isn't much a baby can do that's adorable. So I'm up again and this time he isn't going right back to sleep and I'm so very tired because it's 2:30, then 3, then 3:30.   I said, "Asher, I can't do this anymore." Which was clearly a lie because you have to do what you have to do, but he can't understand my language yet so I don't feel bad about fibbing.

But then today. Oh, today. Thank you for today. We woke up to beautiful snow on the ground with more falling. The kids buzzed through school with nary an annoying sigh and Asher napped for 2 1/2 hours. (Lucky duck.) They rushed out at 11:50 to play outside before lunch. I stuck my head out a few minutes later to check on them and I saw the sweetest sight. Isaac, Audrey, and Elliot were each armed with a shovel. Isaac was across the street shoveling around the mailbox for the mail carrier and Audrey and Elliot were clearing the driveway to surprise Jim before he got home. They were so industrious and darling. Later Elliot said, "Next time it snows, our goal should be to see how many of our neighbor's driveways we can shovel." How sweet is that?

Jim got home after a long, snowy commute and we loaded up the suburban to go and find this year's Christmas tree. The kids were so excited that it was Asher's first time choosing a Christmas tree. We went to our favorite spot, Pinestead Tree Farm, and found a deliciously aromatic Balsam Fir that we have christened Bobby, Jr. We figure that we named our dog Sophie since Jim didn't like it enough for a human so we could name our tree Bobby, Jr. for the same reason.

We got home and ate dinner, then got our house ready for Bobby, Jr. The kids wanted to decorate him right away, but we're giving him time to settle in before we get him all fancied up tomorrow. We did set up the nativity scene and get out some of the other decorations. Elliot found his santa snow globe and quickly ran into the kitchen, scrounging around in the art drawer. I asked what he was looking for and he said he needed a red marker so he could color Rudolph's nose red.

The house smells wonderful. The kids are in the spirit of the season. My mood is much improved and I'm hoping I'll sleep again one of these days. But today apparently isn't that day since I hear a little baby boy through the monitor yet again. Oh well, at least the house smells good.

asher's 1st zoo adventure-better known as the time audrey got peed on by a bison

 We got ready for the big day with a nice nap. Holla.

 We brought some in-vehicle entertainment for the 45 minute trip to the zoo.

 All the bigger kids worked up the nerve to pet the bat rays and leopard sharks.

 Asher saw the swimming penguins.

 We always have to have a picture on the tortoise.

 Isaac saw this and said, "So that's where Colin Kaepernick got the idea." More proof that he and his brother are always, always thinking about football.

 A four kids picture in front of the fish. Asher is clearly amused. (yawn)

 Trying for a nice picture, but Elliot just can't help himself. There was a brother who needed kissing.

 He was intrigued by the fish.

 Isaac and Audrey show him the fish while Elliot gives him more kisses.

 A rare picture of all 6 of us.

 Audrey being ferocious on the wolves.

 "The" picture. Audrey inadvertently posed as though the bison is peeing on her head. Oh, how this picture cracks me up!

Asher was so jazzed up from all of the sights and sounds of the zoo that he couldn't nap. He'd fall asleep for a few minutes, then wake up again. He finally passed out around 7:30 pm.

What a fun first zoo adventure with our boy. I am continually reminded how beautiful and miraculous and stunning life is as I see it through the eyes of my four children. Even writing that, four children, is still a shock to me. Who in the world would have ever thought that I would have four children? No one. That's who. But here I am, spit-up on my shoulder. No clean clothes. Hair in a ponytail yet again. Seeing God, seeing beauty, and appreciating life more than ever because of these four little people. Right where I'm supposed to be.