Robinson Moments

So Much To Be...

2011-11-23T16:28:00.000-06:00

Thankful For!

What a year! We hope you are well, and that you, too, have much to be thankful for. We’re foremost thankful to God who is our Father, our Hope and our Redeemer. And we’re thankful for friends like you who have carried us through 2011!

As most of you know, 2011 has been the year to walk out the vision God gave to start a new church in Galesburg….and thankfully we’re not walking it alone! God has connected us with a great church planting organization (Converge), a great local church (Bethel), and a great pioneering team of people who have been committed to the idea of church for people who aren’t in church. Together, we are now in our second month of leading Fields Church!

A resounding theme of Fields Church is that everyone is on a spiritual journey, whether they realize it or not. Our focus has been helping people evaluate their journey and move forward on it. Sounds like all fun and games, right? It’s been the best of times. . . and the hardest of times. God has been teaching us to rely on Him in deeper ways. Personal challenges involving extended family medical issues, death, depression, pregnancy, support raising, and spiritual warfare have kept us in a constant state of dependence upon God. We are thankful that He is the author and finisher of life, and during the trials He is faithful and active.

This week Mark had the opportunity to talk and pray with a woman who placed her faith in Jesus Christ. As a single mom, she has many worries in this life. Yet she’s now settled her eternity and is connecting to a church family where she can thrive. Seeing lives changed never gets old!

Seeing lives born doesn’t get old either! Our son, Corban Mark, was born in August bringing our kid count to five. Having a baby in the house again keeps us smiling and sleep deprived! Claire, 10, enjoys reading, drawing cartoons, and being the Big Sister. Twins Luke and Caleb, almost 8, loved their first year of baseball on the Cubs team, are hooked on The Magic Tree House books and fill the house with laughter and loudness. You’ll find Lydia, 4, wearing a dress everyday. She has loads of personality and loves to perform for anyone who will watch. Our children are a blessing beyond measure and we treasure them.

To catch a few more pictures of our year, check out robinsonmoments.blogspot.com and www.fieldschurch.com. Please let us know how we can stay in touch and pray for you. We wish you sweet times over Thanksgiving and Christmas, and may God surprise you in 2012!

Thankful for you,

Mark & Jody

Claire, Luke, Caleb, Lydia, & Corban

Fall

2011-10-28T16:34:00.000-05:00

Hey there! I know it's been ages. And I don't really think you want to hear the excuses. But I decided to take a few pictures, and since I'm not breaking out the scrapbooking supplies anytime soon, I've gotta put the pics somewhere.

So, here's us at the pumpkin patch. Our first post-hospital picture of Family of 7.

I know Corban appears asleep in his carseat. Don't let that fool you. He did start sleeping in his carseat this week, but not for the first 9 weeks of his little sweet life. Hearing a newborn baby do that "wa-aah,wa-aah, wa-aah" cry in the backseat is no fun. No fun at all. So, I pretty much haven't gone anywhere or done anything since he was born.

Except the pumpkin patch.

Because my parents set up shop there. My dear Mama "put up" over 700 pints of goods this summer. Salsa, jam, jelly, salsa, pickles, salsa and more salsa. Yummmmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyy. Yum.

And they sold all that yumminess at the pumpkin patch in the little town where they live. Plus caramel apples & apple cider. Double yummy.

So that was us. The one day, about a month ago, when I left my house. (Well, that's not really me. That's my mom, my daughter, and my friend, Gyovanna.) But I was there. too.

Okay, I'm exaggerating for comic effect a little bit. I have left my house a few more times. Especially to go to church. You know what church I'm talking about? The new church in town....Fields Church! Led by the most handsome pastor you've ever seen. I mean, he is really good looking! Dare I say, Hot?!

But that's not usually why people go to church, you know? Just to see the hot pastor. Usually they go because they're interested in spiritual journey. Starting where they are and looking for God. So, hey, if that's you: come to Fields Church. It's probably pretty different than anything you've been to before.

I kinda like to call it CoffeHouse Style. We eat, drink coffee & juice, sing to acoustical music. We're age-integrated which means you don't deposit you're kids in a nursery or class. We worship all together. We're by no means a perfect church. But we've got a handsome pastor AND a genuine goal to help people on their journey to God.

That's what's going on with us.

And I might get out more now that the little bubby can sleep in the car. But the "wa-aah, wa-aah, wa-aah" was really cramping my style.

Sweetness in the Afternoon

2011-10-04T07:58:00.000-05:00

My heart literally warmed in my chest when I walked into my bedroom and saw this.

My Biggest Girl loving on my Babiest Boy, early afternoon light pouring in through the blinds = Sweetness.

A Birth Story, part four

2011-09-17T13:12:00.001-05:00

Nope, they were just in time.

As they came in, everyone in the room got a little chatty. Smiles all around. Surprise, Kendra's here! Then from me, "Okay, seriously people, this baby has been waiting to be born, and it's not waiting any more!"

Mark and Pixie gloved up, Claire got wide-eyed, someone turned on a fancy light that mysteriously appeared out of the ceiling, and Pixie told me to push when I felt the urge. As I did, she said, “Slow down, or this baby will be born in one push!” “Breathe, Jody, blow. Let your body stretch. Wait for just a minute." (blow, blow, blow) "Mark, as soon as the head’s out, you can do the rest.”

I reached down and felt the baby’s head being born. What a rush of love! I pushed again, and baby’s head was fully out. The baby opened eyes and tried to cry even before it was born. Everyone did a collective, “Ah!” with tears rolling down cheeks and our son was born into the hands of his father!

Mark laid him in my arms and named him Corban Mark Robinson. I had been hoping for a son. The phrase, “I was hoping it was you, and it was you!” kept going through my mind. That’s just how I felt. I was hoping it was Corban, and it was Corban, my “offering to God.”

Aside from certain events that accompany marriage, it was seriously the most spectacular moment of my life! Being so calm, and able to feel everything, waiting with peace and excitement for just the right moment to push…I loved every second of it! Kendra described the look on my face as, "It looked like you'd just opened the very best Christmas present!....not to diminish Christmas...or your birth...or anything."

After 18 hours of “note quite labor”, 7 hours of torturous pain, and 2 hours of tingly numbness, the birth was marvelous. Simply, perfectly marvelous!

I took that baby boy in my arms and didn’t let him go. In the room with my family and friends around me, no one else even got to hold him before they left! I just needed that time. God had given him to me, and I relished in him, thrilled to the very tips of my partially numb toes!

Before the women-folk went home, Mark led us in praying blessing over Corban's life and dedicating him to our Father.

And then it was just the three of us....

Welcome, Corban Mark. Our lives will never be the same.

A Birth Story, part three

2011-09-17T09:09:00.000-05:00

After he covered my back with the medical equivalent of duct tape, they laid me down on the bed, rolled me from side to side, and I got the shakes. Teeth-chattering coldness. I wondered if something was wrong. Nope. This is apparently normal. It was very surreal going from body-shattering pain to the drug-induced numbness and shaking. I kept asking if I was alright. Yes, I was alright.

The pain was seriously numbing everything except this one place on the right side of my abdomen. Pixie said, I had a “window”. Sometimes the drugs don’t cover everything, and you get a window. A window is exactly what it felt like, a rectangular area right in my center, like it was simply avoided. But I rolled over some more and within an hour, the window closed. All was numb. The only thing I didn’t like was not being able to feel the baby move inside of my anymore. The baby was moving, I just couldn’t feel it. Very weird.

Then I put on mascara and lip gloss.

Don’t judge me! I had been having contractions for 24 hours, had been in and out of hot water umpteen times, and finally felt good. I was going to have a baby! I got soooo excited about it! I was really going to have a baby! With the pain being virtually eliminated, I was able to refocus on what this was all about.

I remember after Lydia was born, just saying, “Thank you,Jesus, that it’s over.” When Claire was born I remember the "ring of fire." This time was going to be different. I was enjoying birth for the first time. I was going to have a BABY!!! And by golly, there’s no reason a girl can’t have shiny lips for those first photos. My midwife said,"Well, if you're gonna look that good, better get a picture."

Pressure. Oh. OOOOOOOH. That’s what they mean by the urge to push! Never felt it before. Not with my first unmedicated birth or with my last spinal block birth. Never felt the baby move down or have the urge to push. What an amazing feeling! My excitement level was going through the roof. Pixie checked me, I was complete and she said I could continue to let the baby “labor down,” or I could push anytime. There was just one problem. Claire wasn’t there yet.

The day before when I was in the early stages of “not quite labor”, we invited Claire to be at the birth. She had asked early in the pregnancy and we said we’d think about it. My friend, Gyovanna, was to be Claire’s Birth Buddy, the person to take her out of the room if necessary or entertain her if labor was too long (Ha!). So Claire had spent all day with Gyovanna at her house because we were never quite sure what was going on with the labor.

But when I got the epidural, Mark made a call to my mom and said it was time to come if she wanted to see the baby born. Mom asked, “What? Where are you?” She thought we had ended up going home. Apparently, we didn’t do a stellar job communicating with the people we loved during “not quite labor”. But Mark contacted Gyovanna as well, and assured them both we were at the hospital, I was really in labor, I had an epidural and there was going to be a birth. What he didn’t communicate was any urgency. So the 3 of them started the trip to the hospital. And I kept “laboring down.”

Meanwhile Nana K shows up with a van load of children, and a very hungry baby. Kendra nurses her baby outside of Labor & Delivery because there is this very mean sign hanging on the door that says only children related to the laboring woman can be back there. Then Nana K prepares to drive Kendra’s kids back to Fort Wayne for school Monday morning! But what to do with the baby? If Nana K takes her, it’s the same hungry baby problem again, but if Kendra keeps the baby, a pesky little sign is preventing her from being able to be in the room at birth. What to do? What to do?! Kendra & her mom and her 6 children have all driven across 2 states to meet my laboring needs and a few words painted on the wall might keep Kendra from missing the birth.

I decided to have a little heart to heart chat with my nurse in which I explained Kendra’s heroic efforts, her hungry baby, the gracious Nana K, and our current predicament. I ended with a very pouty, lip-glossed lip asking if they could please make an exception and let Kendra have her baby at my delivery. We got a yes!

Nana K pulled out of the hospital driveway and Kendra & baby Tate walked through that Labor and Delivery door. They were stopped by the very first nurse, telling Kendra she couldn’t bring “that infant in here”. To which Kendra replied, with a hearty, yet exasperated smile and thigh slap, “But I just got special permission.”

At this point I’m feeling so much downward movement I ask where my mom, Gyovanna & Claire are?! How far away are they? “Someone needs to tell them to hurry or they might miss this!”Pixie asked to take a look and see where things were. I told her, “Nope, I’m keeping my legs together until they walk in the door.” It was seriously that close, my friends.

Twenty minutes later my mom, my daughter, and my friend arrived with questioning faces…."Did we make it?"

A Birth Story, part two

2011-09-16T16:03:00.000-05:00

After an hour long drive (in which I made Mark stop the car for every contraction that happened on the bumpy parts of the road) we finally got to the hospital. Pixie met us there and after a quick check, concluded that I hadn’t progressed much, I was a "stretchy 2" How a girl can have contractions for 12 hours, never more than 10min apart, and only be a “stretchy2” is beyond my understanding! Especially for a 4^th pregnancy!

I was exhausted. And for that reason Pixie prescribed a sleeping cocktail of morphine and vistaril. She said, “Let’s put you to sleep for a few hours and see what happens.” For the next four hours, I didn’t actually sleep but my body was very relaxed and heavy. My words were kinda slurred. It must be what people feel like when they’re high….except I could still feel every contraction!!! And it was during that drug-induced state, that I started feeling the contractions in my back, more than in my uterus. My good ol’ nemesis, Back Labor, was rearing it’s ugly head. Mark could tell when it was time to apply counter pressure to my back by the slow, steady moan that sounded like clock-work every 5 minutes.

Then Kendra walked in the door. I cried because she had come. I didn’t really know how much I needed her there until she walked in the door. I couldn’t have asked and wouldn’t have expected it of anyone to drive 7 hours, leave her 6 kids (including 6 month old baby) 3 hrs away with her mother and just show up because she thought I needed it.

Kendra & Mark took turns applying counter pressure to my back-pain nonsense, the morphine wore off, and I was in the throes of contractions that were all too familiar. The ones no pregnant woman ever forgets. Time to get in the tub. The 108 degree water really helped me deal with the pain in my back. About 3:30 I was checked again. Almost a…..3. Aaauuug!!!!! I cried then. Really cried. Not just tears running down my cheeks, but out load crying. After a while of that, I was able to put it to words, “That was discouraging. Really hard to hear.” Kendra held me, Mark hugged me. They both tried to calm me.

Since I wasn’t technically progressing, Jenel, the midwife student, told me this was “not quite labor” yet. What?! Contractions every 3 min for hours, and they don’t call this labor?! So she gave me 3 options: Go home, continue like I’m currently doing, or spend the night using morphine to sleep and then augment labor in the morning.

Going home wasn’t an option in my mind. I couldn’t imagine how I would survive the hour drive home or the hour drive back! Though no one else was sure this was labor, I was sure. This is what my labors have all been. Long. Hard. Slow progress. So I went with option 2: staying was my choice. However, I wasn’t given any choice over how often or how long or how hard I would like to have the contractions. Interestingly, they kept coming. Quicker, longer, stronger. Within a couple hours, I think the staff was finally starting to believe I was actually going to have a baby.

And then I hit my limit. I was so tired they told me to open my eyes to walk to the bathroom. I didn’t know my eyes had been closed. The 108 degree tub, was no longer taking the edge off of anything. I tried a joke, in my last vain attempt at levity because the book said levity really helps. It didn’t really help the pain. But we did all laugh.

Pixie surprised me by saying I wasn’t having back labor. The woman never ceases to amaze! She said my baby was positioned well, the pain in my back wasn’t from bone on bone pressure. She said I had “Tight Butt Syndrome.” (I think that’s the only time in my life someone may have called me a tight-a**) Tight Butt Syndrome is when the muscles and ligaments of your butt actually try to hold the baby up and in, while the uterus is contracting to let the baby slide down and out. It’s involuntary, but very real. She repositioned me and taught Mark and Kendra where and how to massage during a contraction to release that tension. Lesson to Learn: if you drive 7 hours for a birth you better be willing to massage your friend’s posterior side. But it's a new lesson in humility for all parties involved!

Meanwhile, Kendra’s sweet baby girl, Tatum, was not taking a bottle for Kendra’s mom, Nana K. 3 hrs away. Feats of amazing tasks under pressure must run in that family, because Nana K loaded all 6 kids up and headed to Moline so Kendra could nurse her baby!

Did I mention I had hit my limit? I had. I was done. I asked for an epidural. With faces too happy, they said, “Let’s check you, maybe you’re at an 8!” I said, “I don’t want to be checked, I want an epidural!” I said it very emphatically. And I was thinking, “There is no way I’m an 8!” I wasn’t. I was a 5. But folks, this 5 meant I was *finally* in labor according to some textbook somewhere!

Then I begged for an epidural. Begged. “Please, please, please…” I would have got on my knees, if I had any strength left to roll myself off the labor ball and onto the floor. Which I did not. I was done. Later, I told Mark we were just an hour off-kilter from one another. I wanted the epidural an hour before he believed me.

Then Mr. Dr. Epidural arrived, and the show really got on the road! What’s funny is Mr. Dr. Epidural was apparently waiting in the hall because I wasn’t fully clothed. A couple people handed me a gown, and I’m thinking….”He’s a real doctor, right? He does epidurals all day…he’s not gonna see anything on me he hasn’t seen before.” And I was in a lot of pain, which makes me not want to do what people are telling me to do. So I put the gown on the ground, and told him to please come in and I was very happy to see him!

As Mr. Dr. Epridural was putting the 8” catheter into the very small area surrounding my spinal column, right before the moment everyone in the room said, “Don’t move, Jody. Seriously. Don’t. Move.” I had a contraction and my water broke. So I mentioned it, “My water just broke.” They said, “Don’t! Move!”

Kinda makes you feel like you might get paralyzed or something….

A Birth Story

2011-09-16T10:36:00.000-05:00

The months leading up to Corban’s birth were wrought with emotion. Lots of emotion. Lots and lots of them. And the thought of labor itself often made millions of butterflies take my breath away as they took flight inside of me. But around Aug 1^st, I decided to confront my fears about it and try to prepare. I read Childbirth Without Fear and Ina May’sGuide to Childbirth. I wholeheartedly recommend both because they helped me get some perspective, but neither prepared me fully for labor and birth as it was to be for me.

Contractions started Saturday night after dinner with friends at our house. After a few episodes of contractions 10 min apart, I wasn’t convinced it was the real thing…and wouldn’t be for hours and hours. But sometime in the wee hours of Sunday, August 21, Mark called his parents and asked them to come stay with our kids. Contractions were 8-10 min apart when I was laying down, but every 3 minutes when I was up moving around. So the great conundrum of the world was, do I stay laying (lying?) down and try to get some rest or do I move around and try to get things progressing? Ultimately I tried both. I lay down for 3 hours, but never slept because those pesky contractions kept a comin’ like clockwork. A call to the midwife, Pixie, when daylight finally broke confirmed nothing…I may be in labor, I may not. What did I want to do?

Hmmmm…..I knew what I didn’t want to do and that was have another night of no sleep. I was so exhausted I was on the verge of tears. Pixie said come on up to the hospital, we’ll check where things are, and make some decisions at that point.

I’m a VBAC gal, so some of the rules of delivery in a hospital are different. And my reasons for wanting a hospital birth after having a home birth that I loved are two-fold: risk reduction and pain reduction. Emphasis on the pain reduction.

Back up 7 months….at my first appointment with Pixie I told her, “I’m not out to prove anything to anybody. I’ve had a home birth (16 hrs), a C-Section with twins due to elbow presentation, and a VBAC (13 hrs) with a spinal block that was overall a pretty lousy experience. I like natural labor. I’m a big fan and pretty vocal advocate of it, but I remember vividly the pain of laboring with Lydia and remember the actual thought that if they could somehow bottle this specific pain and pour it upon a person, it would be the most effective form of torture.” At this particular time and space of my life…I wasn’t up for the challenge of torture. So I told Pixie, I want to start natural, give it a good try, but when I’m done, I’m done.

Along about 9:00 AM I sent a text message to my sisters-in-law while in between contractions on the way to the hospital. “I think I’m gonna have a baby today.” Apparently, I never got back with them or gave any updates and it would be 24 hrs later before they heard anything else. Not my best sister-in-law moment.

In the predawn hours I had also sent a text message to Gretchen in Texas and Kendra in Indiana. Gretchen, in all her best-friendedness, had planned to be at this birth. She had arranged a trip with Vicki to leave their husbands and 8 kids to come to Illinois the week before I was due to be labor support and clean my house and cook for me. In an interesting twist of Providence, I was going into labor when they were scheduled to be with me! But they weren’t. Gretchen’s hyperemesis with her own current pregnancy canceled the trip a few weeks earlier. I was so bummed they couldn’t be there, but it also made me smile to think the timing would have been perfect. Gretchen is a fantastic planner!

Meanwhile, my friend, Kendra, was getting her 6 kids ready for church Sunday morning when she got my text. And in a bizarre, yet amazing turn of events, she thought she didn’t have any big plans for the day and would be preoccupied with thinking about me in labor. So she decided to “head my direction” is how she said it to me. She lives 7 hours away. Her mom lives half way between us. Her plan was to make it to her mom’s house and then give me a call and see how things were going. The worst thing, which wouldn’t be bad at all, was that I’d have a baby long before she could drive from Fort Wayne, IN to Moline, IL.

To be continued....

Since labor took 27 hours, I thought I'd space out the birth story to 27 hours as well. :)

Would You?

2011-05-04T10:39:00.000-05:00

I would soooooooo have done this!

How Do You Pronounce Diorama?

2011-05-03T16:54:00.000-05:00

Is it with a short 'a' sound in the 3rd syllable? Or a short 'o' sound? The pronunciation guide I looked up online said 'o', but I'm the only one in these parts that I've heard use that. Seems like everyone else is using the 'a'. So much so, that folks seem to not know what I've talking about when I mention my kids came up with dioramas (of their own volition) one day and impressed the socks off of me. I LOVE this kind of learning.

Claire's Diorama and Oral Report:

Camp Out

"I used a large piece of bark for the bottom log of the fire. Then wrapped cotton around a small stick to be a marshmallow."

"An old piece of cardboard bent into shape and held it up with a stick without much glue. I was quite surprised how it was able to stand up without much help.I got little pieces of gravel from the driveway and used them as stones. As you can see, the sticks holding up the tent are on a big piece of bark which is the floor of the tent."

"Another piece of bark gathered with a few pine needles were stuck onto the back of the box which represents a tree. And a strand from the carpet from our house I used as a vine hanging down."

Luke's Diorama and Oral Report:

Hunters' Camp

"The white mat is for sleeping."

"This is fire with marshmallows cooking."

"Trees and shrubs growing with shells."

"The rope they use to catch the animals and a white circular, 6-prong trap."

Caleb's Diorama and Oral Report:

Forest Fire

"The red is the fire and the wood is the trees that are in the fire."

Then Caleb made a 2nd Diorama entitled "Broken Down Rack House"

He was unable to explain was a Rack House is. It's just a.....Rack House.

Backyard Bunny

2011-04-28T16:20:00.000-05:00

Caleb's got a new buddy.

We were so surprised he found it before Lila did!

But we told him, "No, you cannot keep him." and went on to explain the necessity for bunnies to be in their natural habitats, not in our house.

Super cute little creature.

Only 50 Plants until August

2011-04-05T22:59:00.000-05:00

I am inspired by this. And because I'm always looking out for the best interests of my friends, I'm sharing it for your inspiration also.

But by his calculations, come August, we're going to have to add 20 more plants for the new baby. Wow! This baby is going to take up a lot of clean air!

Ok, seriously, I'm not going to buy 70 plants, but I'm thinking of starting with 10. How many do you want?

Images (with titles)

2011-04-03T14:00:00.001-05:00

Mirror Image (except the dog part)

Melancholy

Will you still love me if I chew on my sleeve?

Hair = Love

I'm Bigger Now

Mommy Loves This Angle

Thinking

Backyard

True Self

I think I can, I think I can

Sisters Smile

I told my daughter she looked constipated

Those Eyes

The Deep

2011-04-02T15:52:00.000-05:00

I inch my way down into the chilly water. Wishing I was neck deep, fully submerged, but cringing at every step. The water is seemingly frigid, and backing up seems so much easier than moving forward. Staying still sounds like a good idea! If I just don't move, maybe I can get used to this. But involuntarily I start hopping in place. I crave the movement. Being here is not good enough. Thigh-deep in goosebumps is not the goal. I want to enjoy this water, I know I will enjoy it once I'm in all the way. Someone cannonballs next to me, spraying me with his freezing drops of freedom and joy. Why did that feel so awful to me?! I balk at his delight.

The encouragement comes from all around. "You can do this! Just get in, you'll be so glad you did." "Faster, Jody! We're all waiting for you." "Look, we're all here and in this together. Let's have a good time while we can."

And I'm trying, and wish I saw it like they saw it. Wish I knew the warmth of water against my chin instead of the creeping cold up my spine. I know I'll get there. I'm loving the sun on my face, and I dip my fingers into crystalline coolness taking delight in how the water slips across my hand and bids me deeper. I want freedom. I want joy. I want health. I want hope. I want light-heartedness. But, Man! This water is cold! But, oh, not swimming is worse.

I'm coming in, really I am. This water is a gift. Life was made for living and loving. I'm ready for both.

Grandmother's Tribute

2011-02-25T12:00:00.019-06:00

If you knew my Grandmother for more than 30 minutes, then my name is probably familiar to you. Though she had 10 perfect grandchildren, I, Jody, was “special.” When my brothers used to make fun of me for being “special” which often meant getting special treatment, or a special trinket or a special treat, I told them, “Hey, you have no idea how many games of SkipBo it takes to make a person “special!”

While they were out shooting frogs with BB guns, or *ahem* shooting each other with BB guns, I was in being “special,” playing SkipBo at the card table set up in Grandmother’s living room, eating gumdrops by the mouthfuls, and cheating whenever I couldn’t get caught.

While my brothers were making mazes out of the straw bales in the hayloft, I was in being “special” making homemade pineapple ice cream and creating elaborate tea-parties-for-two complete with dessert mints and nut cups.

While my brothers were downstairs stacking all available couch cushions, sleeping bags and pillows one on top of each other and then competing to see who could high-jump over them without drawing blood, I was upstairs being “special” eating sliced apples and popcorn with freshly painted fingernails watching The Sound of Music.

It was a lot of work being “special”. And great fun, too!

And for the one who was “special” this death is not only the celebration of a long life well lived, but it is a deep, deep loss.

My Grandmother loved me unconditionally. And that love has had a profound impact on my life. Perhaps, I would not be confident if she didn’t tell me how proud she was of me. Perhaps, I wouldn’t be funny, if she didn’t throw her head back and cover her mouth in mock shock at my silly antics. Perhaps, I wouldn’t know that I’m pretty if she hadn’t told me so. Perhaps, I would be shy….okay, I couldn’t be shy under any circumstance…. :)

But you see, being special to someone and loved unconditionally changes a person’s life. In the days since her death, I’ve bemoaned the fact that there were times I disrespected her: talked back to her, thought she wasn’t cool, shrugged away from her arm around my shoulder, or took my hand back.

Why would I treat unconditional love that way?! My husband, Mark, said, “That’s how you knew it was unconditional. It was love that was tested and proved true.”

I thank God that I still have two other women in my life who love me unconditionally, and a couple men, too. :) And it will be one of my life’s goals to reinvest what was invested in me:

To love others with the unconditional love of God and make people know they are “special.”

:) :) :) :) :)

2011-02-16T20:43:00.000-06:00

Number 5 is on it's way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So blessed to be able to be part of God's plan in bringing life to the world.

You can be expecting another little Robinson at the end of August.

Coming Up for Air

2011-02-02T20:23:00.000-06:00

Sheesh...just looking at the title of my last blog post makes me not even want to look at my computer. So I've been avoiding it. Avoiding my computer. Avoiding my blog. Avoiding having to come up with a post that will turn the tide of the last one.

I don't want to come up with a way to make all that better or to sugar coat it. But on the other hand, ugh! I'm so ready for this season of "funk" to be over. The melancholy Jody is not fun to be around. I don't much enjoy her. She sleeps a lot. She's cranky. She doesn't know what's wrong. She doesn't fix her hair. She doesn't have any actual problems, she just feels uninspired, unmotivated, unhygienic.

The good news is my Dad is doing great! Recent blood work came back superfine and he's practically fully recovered and his hair has even grown back. My brother Kevin, has a running joke. When someone asks if Dad needs anything, Kevin has been known to say, "Yeah, Dad needs that like he needs a hole in the head!"

And it seriously makes me crack up even writing it now. Gotta love that Kevin.

My dear Grandmother is dying. So hard for me. One day I'm gonna write a post about all that I think I'm learning through this time of watching her life of 103 years slowly come to it's end. For now, I'll admit that I think we're all pretty much unaware that we're going to die. And we usually put dying people so far removed from our daily existence that we (Western, post-modern, wealthy folk) don't even know what it looks like anymore. Especially if the person is not dying from a disease. My Grandmother is dying because that's what people do when they're 103. You guys have probably already come to this understanding. For me, I'm still grappling with it.

See, the melancholy Jody is not very much fun.

But I'm starting to ..... come up for air. Enjoy what I have. Appreciate who God is even when I'm feeling low. Even take a couple pictures here and there.

I've been leading a Bible study this month and am loving the girls there. Some have some crappy crap stuff in their lives, but they're turning to God and his Word for the answers. We're all struggling through, yet encouraging each other.

God is good. His mercy continues forever.

Lifesavers: Gosh, that was hard.

2011-01-04T18:11:00.001-06:00

Post-Christmas chaos, my brother trying to move, my Grandmother's health deteriorating suddenly, that was when Dad's 7-day headache took a turn for the worse.

Here are my sent text messages from the past week. You don't really have to read them. But I needed someplace to put them down...

Tues, Dec 28, 2010

3:38 PM
Dad in ER, doing brain scan to check for bleed or clot. headache still, just threw up. please be praying for healing and discernment.

5:54 PM to Mary, my baby/dog sitter
might need u to go to my house to take care of dog

8:04 PM
Dad not been seen by neurosurgeon doc yet, but they trying to thicken his blood bf they do surgery. Doc in in another surg now. Crazy crowded around here. Please pass the word around

8:22 PM to Mary
Got neighbors to take care of dog, but thanks for being willing to help

8:25PM
Doc not see dad yet cuz doc in surg. giving him stuff to try to thicken blood to prep for surg. Called a subdermal hemmorage with midline shift, means bleeding under skull, moving brain to the side bc of pressure

8:50 PM to family
try to thicken blood with plasma sounds like it be several hours bf we know more

9:32 PM
Lots of waiting going on, trying to thicken blood, doc in another surgery, so hasn't seen him yet. Gonna be a long night.

10:54 PM
Good news! just saw the dr. and clot is at least a week old, not currently bleeding. clot in between brain and skull, not in brain at all. once blood gets thick enough, they will do procedure at bedside to drain it. hopefully in morning. always risk of complications that close to brain, but this shud be simple procedure. thank u for all the prayers!

11:33 PM
not going home tonight. Dad not making sense with his words and can't make decisions. So we stay here. pray we get some sleep in these recliner chairs.

Dec 29, 2010
7:27 AM
had 2 bags of plasma in night. numbers still not where they need to be. starting 2 more bags. gonna be at least 6 more hours before surgery. everything else the same

9:35 AM
I thot dad's decision making lack be to pain meds, but he not having any. Instead it happening because of the pressure on his brain.

9:57 AM
in other news, my 103 yo Grandmother is probably dying. She at home with sis in laws caring for her. Hurts to swallow, won't eat...doesn't look good. Lots of stress around here...

10:29 AM
Today things mostly same, except dad is not himself, very lethargic, fuzzy minded. hoping this goes away when brain pressure is relieved.

2:07 PM to baby/dogsitter
Thanks for prayers, mark home with the kids, im planning to come home tonight, then be back in the morning. maybe contact mark to see what he needs. there weren't a lot of groceries in the house when i left suddenly....

3:39 PM
prepping dad to put a drain in thru his skull now...finally...we were beginning to not be able to wake him up. nurse said without the drain, he just get sleepier and sleepier till he went into coma. glad for him to be done with this part. thanks for the prayers!

4:06 PM
Grandmother same as yesterday. only ate 1 egg and half piece of toast in 24 hours. right hand swollen. ordered a hospital bed to be delivered today. trying to let her be home instead of going to nursing home.

4:17 PM
Tomorrow be our 15 year anniversary! we postponed our ski trip....

5:15 PM
Drain in quicker than they expected. 100 cc drained so far, doc thinks he had 200-3-- cc in there. dad sedated in sleep for a couple hours, but they woke him and he can move toes & fingers. so far, so good!

7:09 PM
Dad awake and back to full personality! what a relief! funny hearing him try to remember whats happened and what he was like. we are all smiles around here! be praying against infection

Dec 30
9:27 AM
More good news! ct scan this morn showed no new or old blood. took the drain out! if dad can walk around this morn, they let him come home this afternoon. he REALLY glad about this!

9:47 AM
About grandmother, she was up 10 times in night requiring care...moving her to nursing home today for 5 days "respite care" to give mom chance to rest and care for dad. my vigil will be moved to that location next.

9:58 AM
do i need anything?...hmmmmm.....a few days of calm and rest! but my grandmother is probably dying and that is also weighing very heavily on me. the other family been caring for her while mom and i on vigil with dad. today they moving her to a nursing home. she still has most her mental capacity and this potential to be traumatic. please be pray about what my role be. to go be with her at nursing home? when? how long?

11:25 AM to Mary

Any chance u cud bbsit this aft/eve? my dad coming home, but my gmother moving to nursing home, I need to go be with her

12:04 PM
on my way

2:05 PM
how tall is gmother? the nurse wants to know...

Grandmother is back home now. Care for her has increased significantly.Please keep her in your prayers.

My dad is recovering faster than the docs anticipated! I'm so thankful God kept him here with us!

I'm trying to recover physically and emotionally. Very tired and pretty melancholy.

How I've Failed at Homeschooling

2010-12-21T16:09:00.000-06:00

There has been a serious overlook in the Robinson Homeschooling. If there were some authorities to report this to, it had better be reported. But, thankfully, we live in a state where the homeschooling rules are pretty simple. There's actually two. Two rules you have to follow when you homeschool here. Do you know what they are? If you can list them in the comments, you get a gold star.

While I have not broken those two cardinal rules of homeschooling, I have failed nonetheless. And the failure brings great shame upon the house.

My daughter, my firstborn, my very image, does not know how to hand-jive.

She's 9 and she doesn't know how to hand-jive!

She doesn't know:

Bo bo ski wat ten tot ten
Eh eh, eh eh, boom boom boom
Itty bitty wat ten tot ten
Bo bo ski wat ten tot ten
Bo bo ski wat ten tot ten boom!

And/or she doesn't know:

Mama had a baby his name was tiny Tim
She put him in the bathtub to see if he could swim
He drank up all the water,
He ate up all the soap
He would have ate the bathtub but it couldn't fit down his throat.
Mama called the doctor, Mama called the nurse
Mama called the lady with the alligator purse....

What will become of her?! How will she make it through life without the experience of standing in line after lunch, lunchbox between her feet, waiting for the teacher to come back, slapping hands: up and down, left and right, over, under, 3 slaps in the middle?!

How did I not realize if I didn't put her into a "real school" she wouldn't ever learn this?! This has been a serious overlook that should be reported to the principal or someone in charge around here.

So in a vain attempt to make up for lost time, I tried to teach her today. Folks, it was an abysmal failure. She may have missed the critical period for learning hand-jive. But we're going to work on it. We only stumbled upon the hand-jive failure realization recently because Lydia checked out The Lady with the Alligator Purse from the library. And as we were reading it aloud I said, it's just like the hand jive.

And I got this blank stare. The blank stare of "What the heck is hand-jive?"

I'm hoping we can turn this ship around and get it moving in the right direction. I started to teach Luke today as well. He seemed to catch on a little quicker. We may not have missed the window on him. But if I remember correctly, boys did not do the hand jive when I was in school. I'm hoping boys nowadays have embraced equal opportunity thought and are also enjoying the hand-jive in those great cafeteria lines of wisdom.

Ever Independent

2010-12-20T09:41:00.000-06:00

After 24 hours of the stomach nastiness infesting our home Mark asked Lydia,

"So who made you throw up? Luke or Caleb?"

Lydia's response,

"They no make me throw up! I can throw up all by myself!!"

Growing Up Rodie:The Dressing

2010-11-23T16:09:00.001-06:00

I haven't posted much about my incredible, unbelievably 103 yr old, Grandmother on this site but alas, I've got to tell this story.

Grandmother and I have a special connection and her part in my childhood brings smiles to my face, images of a pink bedroom, memories of Days of Our Lives, and Skipbo. Lots and lots of Skipbo.

Grandmother's hospitality was without end. She loved to entertain and was good at it with plenty to eat & a place for everyone to sleep. We spent at least a weekend a month at her house. Me and my five brothers and my parents converged upon her tidy space along about late Friday afternoon, and sluggishly left it overturned & perhaps a little smelly on Sunday afternoon. I cried every Sunday as we pulled out of her driveway.

But the holidays at Grandmother's house were even better because the whole Rodie clan came and we filled that ranch style house to the brim! And the food....oh, the food. Copious amounts of mashed potatoes, jello salad, deviled eggs & potato rolls surrounded the platter of turkey (piled high and arranged into light and dark meat, of course.) But The Dressing is a story in and of itself.

Grandmother makes The Dressing from scratch every year which means cubing lots of bread and mixing the spices and stirring the bowl full of mushy looking stuff. (I think that's why some people call it Stuffing. Ours was never stuffed into anything, and to me it just looked like a bunch of stuff all smooshed together) But for my dear Grandmother, The Dressing is what makes the Thanksgiving. She even tastes the raw version of The Dressing just to make sure it's right. Then, once all components are approved and we have a final product, The Dressing relaxes in the fridge over night till baking time the next morning.

I've spent at least 20 of my 33 Thanksgivings eating turkey next to my dear Grandmother. We nibble on the dark meat, pour lots of gravy over our potatoes, slather rolls with extra jam and enjoy it all sipping ice water to cleanse the palate. But every year I can remember there is something wrong with...The Dressing. The Dressing for some reason, is simply not quite right every single year. Perhaps its not crispy enough on top, or too soft in the middle. It might lack salt or be debated if we should have used sage. The Dressing continues to erupt all manner of table conversation regardless of the empty baking dish it sat in. The fact that we all ate and enjoyed every bit of it, does not mean that it was The Dressing it was destined to be.

Tomorrow, my friends, is the day to make The Dressing. Grandmother and my mom and aunt will once again valiantly quest to perfectly combine unwritten ingredients and The Dressing will once again await its Thanksgiving Day cross-examination. God, help us get it right. And I mean that as a sincere prayer.

To The Dressing, y'all. *raises ice water glass*

Heard of This Guy?

2010-11-18T09:35:00.000-06:00

It'll take you 12 minutes to watch this video which is about the same amount of time it takes to watch half of a sitcom. Except here, there are no commercials. You could try to watch for just two minutes and see if you want to continue. That's what I did. Then I got hooked.

I found it entertaining, informative, and very thought-provoking which I think was his goal.

I'm not saying everything he says I agree with, because I've never even considered 90% of his ideas. But I like that he threw them out there for me to figure out.
Tell me what you think...

Repost: Because You Need It

2010-11-17T15:23:00.000-06:00

Topic: Christmas

Subtopic: How Not to Be A Stupid Maniac about Gifts (and I don't use Stupid very often)

I love presents. I love to get them and give them and look for them and wrap them and watch people open them and open them myself! The WHOLE PACKAGE (hee,hee, ok...not really funny) of gifts is right up there with my top 10 favorite things to do in life.

Did I mention I like a LOT of presents. Tons. It doesn't matter how big or how much they cost, but I love the idea that someone thought of me many times when picking out many presents. Because that's why I give multiple presents for a person because I saw something and thought of them.

Anyway, this present issue can quickly become a present problem. Because we attend 5 Christmas celebrations each year, and I have 4 children and 1 husband.

For a while, I just went overboard finding lots of fun stuff that everybody would love and then stayed up way too late trying to locate all my hiding places so I could stay up even later doing the wrapping.

And then somewhere during the Christmas season last year I found this concept. 4 presents for each person.

Something You Want
Something You Need
Something to Wear and
Something to Read

AhhhhhhHaaaaa. Bliss in present land. And it even Rhymes!!!

So here's how it works. 4 presents for each person. That's still multiple gifts, it's still many thoughts about the person, but puts the whole "gimmee, gimmee, gimmee" part of Christmas morning in it's rightful place: Nowhere.

We did have to start prepping our kids along about Halloween that we're doing this 'cool new thing' for presents. Then we'd quote the little rhyme and explain what it meant. And you know what? Our kids started doing it right back to us. "What kind of book do you want, Mommy?" and "Since you don't need anything, can I have your Need present?"

Now, because the Something you Want gift is obviously going to be the highlight of Christmas morning, we open the gifts in reverse order. Read.Wear.Need.Want. Keeps everybody happy with anticipation.

If you were a mouse in the house last Christmas at the Robinson's, here's what you would have seen.

First, everyone opened their Something to Read.

Then came Something to Wear.

My boys don't get very excited about clothes, but when you put light-up shoes under the jeans and sweaters, they think Something to Wear becomes a pretty decent gift!

Then Something You Need. Here's where we're not talking about the basic human needs: food,clothing, shelter.

But I think every boy needs a baseball glove. So the twins each got ball gloves for Christmas. If you're wondering why that one already looks broken in, it's because it was! I got it at the thrift store for $1.99. Every boy does not need a $29.99 baseball glove when he's 5 years old and is going to leave it out in the rain 18 times in the first year.

And finally, the Something You Want.

Talk about anticipation, this is what my dear daughter did upon pulling the box top off of this Samantha doll on Christmas morning:

She folded her hands, and stared at it with joy. For like 2 minutes! Enthusiasm was bursting from her, but she wanted to enjoy every little ounce of that gift and soaked in the moment.

Oh, the things we can learn from the little people in our lives.

So, friends, don't be stupid. Don't go in debt this Christmas. Try to pry your mind away from the notion that you're out to impress, spoil, dote upon, buy love or fulfill dreams for Christmas or otherwise propagate the Christmas Gift Marketing Machine. If your kids know you love them every other day of the year, they will know you love them Christmas Day.

But, like I said, I did start mentioning the "You'll get 4 presents for Christmas" w-a-y in advance, because I had previously done all the no-no's in the aforementioned paragraph.

Want. Need. Wear. Read.

It rhymes. It works. Really.

Whinos Might be on to Something

2010-10-27T15:16:00.001-05:00

Recently discovered secret....

If you put chocolate milk into a travel coffee mug, the children don't know what you're drinking and they don't ask for some.

Make a note of this.

I think that's why people drink out of bottles wrapped in brown paper sacks on the street. They're pretty sure they're pulling a fast one over on all of us. We think it's some alcohol-laced elixir...but it could be the joke's on us. It's only orange juice.

The Toy of All Toys

2010-10-26T22:02:00.000-05:00

Seriously, those folks over at PlaSmart, are going to owe me some serious marketing dollars. Not that they actually know me, and not that my opinion matters in the least to them, but lets just say I'm about to give some ridiculous kind of props to them about this toy they've created.

Here goes.

We cannot put it down! The ~~adults~~ kids in this household are completely drawn to it with magnetic-like force. We They argue about whose turn it is and let out fierce cries of anguish when the 2 year old bumps my their arm!

It's a game hard enough that you can't do it on your first try. (And no one in this family can do it on their hundredth try!) But at the same time you're completely motivated to try again. And again. And again.

Age 6 and up are completely fascinated. For hours.

Go add this to your Christmas list. Put it in the Something you Want and the Something you Need categories. Because you seriously want to make sure you get this! When was the last time the best toy on the earth didn't require batteries?

Has anyone else ever heard of this? I randomly saw it on the game shelf and bought it for my nephews for their birthday last weekend. Good for me, all toys were buy one get one 50% off last weekend, so I bought an extra to give to someone for Christmas. But after playing it for 135 seconds at the birthday party, my kids begged to buy it from me so they could play it.

And it didn't take much to convince me, because I wanted to open it too!

Blast from the Past: Harvest is Done!

2010-10-24T21:56:00.000-05:00

Hooray! Harvest is over this year!!

We're so happy! (circa 2008)

Let's shout it from the cornfields!

Raise a flag of celebration!

Share a big, two-toothed smile for the world!

Let us try to remember what Daddy looks like when he's not driving a combine!

After a series of combine ailments including being stuck in the mud, catching on fire and a broken axle, lets say we're thankful to be done with harvest this year! (And for the record, Mark was only driving the combine during two of those calamities.)

"The Book You Should Read if You Know a Child", again.

2010-10-23T10:41:00.001-05:00

Amber, Yes! Yes! Yes! and Yes!!

I started to write this comment after yours from this post, but it just got so long that I decided to do another post on this book. Which is probably the equivalent of blogger suicide...to not post for weeks on end and then do 2 posts about the same topic within a month. But here I am folks, taking a nose dive into boredom if you didn't care the first time around.

I had to get this out, Amber. Because, while you and I might have been able to come to those conclusions...I've had a really hard time putting it into words. One of my friends said, "Jody, you only like this book because it's how you're already parenting." And while I see her point, I didn't understand why I was doing things the way I was doing them.

This could be because I'm just not super smart. Or it could be a habit of doing things without knowing the reason why I'm doing them.

For instance, I love to take photos. Several years back, somebody asked me to take photos for their event. They actually offered me money to do something I already loved, so this was a total WIN for me. After that first time more people asked me to take photos. And I printed up some business cards, and bought a website, and hung out my cyber-shingle with the title...photographer. But y'all, I didn't know why I was taking good photos! I just was. I knew aperture had something to do with focus, but if someone would have asked me to explain it I would've said, "I love your interest in photography! And I'd love to tell you everything I know, but I just don't even know where to start....But, wow, those are really cool earrings you have on! Tell me about them...."

Because I couldn't explain it!

One day, though, I decided to wisen up a bit and head down to the JuCo to get me an education. I took a class. A single class on photography that helped me figure out why I was taking decent pictures. After much ado, I finally figured out aperture and depth of field (and most importantly how to use Lightroom). Though I had the "eye" for photography and some natural knack for getting people to do what I want them to do, the class made me a better photographer because I understood the why behind the what.

Its the same way with this book. Finally someone gives the Why! which allows people who don't just have the natural knack of parenting to be able to do it successfully. Or for those of us who do have some natural knack to share it without being labeled a "Growing Kids"or a "Dr. Sears" or "Baby Whisperer" kind of parent. But....I guess I might become a "Hold Onto" gal if I'm not careful.

I also found it refreshing that Hold Onto Your Kids was not about household management. It doesn't tell you to let your baby cry it out or how long tummy time should last everyday. It doesn't say worldview is unalterably set by age 6, so too bad for those of you who missed the window. Its talks about parenting as the life-long journey it is and doesn't relegate platitudes of checklists to make sure your child gets into Harvard.

There's no shortcut to good parenting, but this guy has done his research, and while he does use a lot of big words, he makes the topic manageable and try-able by the general population.

Amber, thanks for another opportunity to get this all off my chest. My goal is to post something else right away so this post can be quickly looked over by the uninterested.

The Best Gift Since Diamond Earrings

2010-10-16T08:59:00.000-05:00

Waiting for me in the mailbox this morning...

And I love that my budding artist accurately captured my wide hips. What can I say? She draws it like she sees it!

Sticky is Fun!

2010-09-15T17:11:00.000-05:00

Light it up!

Gather some folks.

Super Sized Strawberry Marshmallows

Can her mouth hold it?

Not quite.

Sure is fun to be sticky!

Two Year Olds Talk Back

2010-09-09T12:00:00.000-05:00

For the 12hundreth time today, I asked Lydia to stop dragging our puppy around. Lila was tired of being dragged around, and was putting her mouth on Lydia. But Lydia does not interpret doggie signals very well and instead of letting go of the dog's collar she just cries and holds on tighter!

I finally said, "Lydia, seriously, let go of her! She doesn't want to be with you right now!" In a voice full of whine and on the precipice of tears, Lydia replies, "But I want her good dog and it's my birfday!" whine, whine whine.

No, it's not her birthday.

Hi, My Name is Jody and I'm a....

2010-09-06T16:55:00.002-05:00

caffeine-aholic.

No seriously. I am. I was? I'm trying not to be? I'm kinda new to this addict thing, so help me out.

But no matter what tense you put it in, I'm now 15 days free of caffeine being in charge of my body. And as cute or trite or stupid as it may be, I'm embarrassed that I had an addiction and didn't know/acknowledge it. That word--know--and that word--acknowledge--those are some tricky words. They have the same root but mean very different things. I may know I have a problem with something. Knowing happens in the brain. But if I acknowledge I have a problem with something, that happens out in the world where other people can hear it.

And the bitter truth is, I've been addicted to caffeine. Here's how I'd like to justify this thing.

I'd like to tell you that it wasn't really that bad. I *only* drank 4 cups of coffee (half decalf) a day and *maybe* 2-3 cups of tea. Yeah, I'd get a headache *now and then* when I didn't drink coffee everyday. Yes, I'm extremely grumpy and short-sighted in the morning before I'd get half a cup in me. But I'm a busy gal! I use a lot of energy everyday! I have 4 children, a new puppy, a little pick-me-up in the early afternoon just gives me the little burst of energy I need to properly homeschool my children, and I like to stay up late!

There. Those are my lame excuses trying to distract both you and me away from the real issue....somewhere along about the past 2 years caffeine started running the Jody Robinson show.

But I'd like to tell you, to pretend, that it's not one of those real addictions like alcohol, nicotine, heroine, shopping.

See. There it is again. Lame excuse.

Because the truth of the matter is I claim to be a follower of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. You know, God in human form who walked the planet 2000 years ago to sacrifice Himself for all of my lame excuses? You've heard of Him? Good, because this should be a lot easier to explain.

For me to claim freedom from sin through Christ and yet cling to a desire (caffeine high) that is not of Him, makes me slave to the desire while trying to walk in purity. Do you know how hard it is to try to walk in purity while holding onto sinful desires? Really hard. Really, really hard. Picture this (PG-13) image: A virgin man walking around with a naked woman strapped to his chest. Trying to walk in purity, but clinging to something totally opposite that desire.

When I was finally able to see that I have a naked woman strapped to my chest,...er..um, I mean that I'm addicted to caffeine, I took it before God to see if it's in congruence with living a life that's sold out for His purposes. Turns out, it's not. Being addicted to something makes me a slave to it. And there's nothing that I'm going to choose to be slave to besides the God who created me, died for me, claimed me as His own and is worthy of complete devotion.

I'm seriously embarrassed that this is an issue for me. It's been a very humbling two weeks. And so much easier to not tell people why I'm detoxing. The real reason is because God has to be first in my life. He has to be my strength, my joy, my buzz. Not a drug.

Here's the deal. It's much easier to say, "Caffeine is so bad for your body, I just want to cleanse." Problem is, that's a lie.

But what if while I'm detoxing, I'm super grumpy? I'm talkin', headache for 3 days kind of grumpy! And irritable and unbelievably tired and craving, seriously, craving coffee. That certainly wasn't very Christ-like. Sorry for the people (especially the ones under 4 ft tall) who had to live through that with me.

So help me with the lingo? Am I an addict? Is there a time when I'm not an addict? Is it really creepy when I stand close to people with coffee in their hand just to get a whiff of that strong, acidic, deliriously yummy aroma?

Nobody will read this book, but if you do, please, let's discuss.

2010-09-03T17:23:00.000-05:00

I have just read the best non-fiction book of my life thus far.

And I want to talk with someone about it. It's a little bit lengthy and that could explain some of my summer blogging hiatus. (But it could just be the weather. I didn't really want to be inside in front of a computer,either.) But guess what I just found out? The book I read was the 2nd printing and it has been condensed! The first printing was 20,000 words longer. So go buy it from amazon, it's only 264 pages.

The info in it can be used in practically EVERY human interaction you have in life, but it's specifically about parenting. Here it is:

If you have had any personal interaction with me over the past 3 months, you most likely heard my say, "I'm reading this book right now and ......." then I went on to try to quickly, or not so quickly, articulate what I've been ruminating on.

I will do a super-bad job at trying to condense what has obviously been a lifetime of accumulated knowledge by Gordon Neufeld, but I really want to share just some of the mind-awakening principles. None of these thoughts are my own, I'm not trying to re-write anything they've written, but here goes, some of my favorite quotes by chapter.

Chapter 1
"For many today, parenting does not feel natural."

"The secret of parenting is not in what a parent does but rather who the parent is to a child."

"All the parenting skills in the world cannot compensate for a lack of attachment relationship."

"Fitting in with the immature expectations of the peer group is not how the young grow to be independent, self-respecting adults."

(This is one of my favorites from the whole book.)
"Adults who ground their parenting in a solid relationship with the child parent intuitively. They do not have to resort to techniques or manuals but act from understanding and empathy. If we know how to be with our children and who to be for them, we need much less advice on what to do."

Chapter 2

"What children fear more than anything, including physical harm is getting lost."

"Whomever the child is most attached to will have the greatest impact on her life."

"To have our children treat us like enemies makes no sense whatsoever, for us, for them, or for our relationship."

Chapter 3

"Our children are growing up peer rich and adult poor."

"It is for economic reasons that parenting does not get the respect it should."

Are you hooked yet? Let me go on.

Chapter 4

"The power we have lost is the power to command our children's attention, to solicit their good intentions, to evoke their deference and secure their cooperation. Without these four abilities, all we have left is coercion or bribery."

Does this sound familiar to anyone?

"We cannot truly take care of a child who does not count on us to be taken care of, or who depends on us only for food, clothing, shelter, and other material concerns."

"We have put such a premium on independence that we lose sight of what childhood is about."

"We expect that the child's need to be taken care of and our willingness to parent will suffice. We are surprised and offended when children seem resistant to our parenting."

Chapter 5
"It is immensely frustrating to manage a child who does not pay attention to us. Getting a child to look at us and to listen to us is foundational to all parenting."

"...parents who avoid giving direction on principle end up abdicating their parenting role."

"We must never intentionally make a child feel bad, guilty, or ashamed in order to get him to be good."

Y'all, I have to stop. There are 18 chapters in this book, but I could go on and on and on. It is answering so many parenting questions some of which I didn't even know I had. It's practical applications are simple and powerful. Understanding and applying them to my relationships with children, family, husband and friends is making a distinguishable difference in my life.

I give a full 2 Thumbs Up and recommend it for all parents, grandparents, teachers, principles, aunts, uncles, and neighbors of children.

If you think this is going to be a book about "God", it's not. So find another excuse because this is not a bait and switch to get you thinking like a follower of Christ if you don't really believe. However, if you're hesitant to read it because of the previous sentence, let me say there was a single paragraph, a solitary one in 264 pages, that may conflict with my personal understanding of how God created people and relationships.

If you get the book and read it let me know! I'd love to hear what you think!

Dog Days of Summer

2010-08-27T15:55:00.000-05:00

Something changed around here.....

I have stuff hanging around I never thought I'd have...

And life will never be the same....

And she's not going anywhere.....

And we wouldn't want her to!

Next Installment: Growing Dogs God's Way.

So This is What's Up

2010-07-18T18:08:00.002-05:00

We're not pet people. In the 14 years Mark & I have been married, we've had exactly 2 pets. Both were goldfish we named 'Jonah' and 'The Whale'. That's it.

We travel a lot. We've got 4 kids. Who needs more poop in their life? Animals smell. They have to be given things, like food and water, EVERYday. They're not cost effective. Pets don't produce stuff for people. And I generally don't do ANYTHING gross. The bodily fluids and teeth and nails of an animal give me shivers down my spine. Neither of us grew up snuggling up to Spot on the couch, or having Daffy rub up against our leg when we got home. We're not pet people.

Until now.

Here we go, let me introduce Lila (not to be confused with Lilla, which is the name Lydia calls herself.)

This is our puppy. We haven't brought her home yet, but I wanted to write this post while I'm still in the euphoric stage of having someone else take care of all the needs of our dog. Because once I'm actually surrounded by the poop and pee (and who really knows what else?!) I may not be so romantic about this little pup.

But right now, at this very moment....I'm totally smitten.

How a 14-year stance against owning a dog collides into owning a dog 6 months later is an interesting story only to me. But because this here is my space, I'm gonna share it.

The Cliff's Notes version is that we're getting a dog because Luke and Caleb asked for one.

Granted, Claire asked for a pet years ago and the answer was always a responding 'No.' (See paragraph 2)
And the twins have asked for quite a few years to have a dog and we've always listened fully to the request and firmly squelched the idea with our standby 'No.' End of story.

But something last November began to turn my heart. It was getting to be Christmas time and so all the chillins were making lists about what they wanted. And there wasn't much on the boys' lists. But they really wanted a dog.

Later we were around some other children and I kept hearing over and over about all the stuff all those kids wanted. Wanted for Christmas, wanted for dinner, wanted for fun. Lots of asking and lots of wanting and honestly I wasn't impressed. Just thought, "See that's what we've become. Our kids just ask and ask and ask and are never satisfied." (it's actually not a kid thing, it's an all people thing).

But then I considered my kids' wish lists. And I began to think about some of the things that Luke and Caleb ask for. The truth is, there wasn't much. Our boys don't ask for tons of stuff, they aren't picky about what they eat, we rarely join the marketing machine that permeates most of childhood here in the US. While being active, loud, roudy boys I thought, "They're really good kids who want a dog."

Let's get them a dog! They don't ask for much, they kind of, might get overlooked part of the time because they're twins and 2 six year old boys at the same time overwhelm people, but most importantly since they can clean toilets now, they are totally old enough to clean up dog poop!

So Mark and I actually prayed about this dog and whether or not we should have one in our life, and here we are 6 months later on the verge of owning a Boxer.

This is but the first installment of the Legends of Lila.

My Mini-Me

2010-06-10T14:32:00.000-05:00

Does this look like me?

Claire came downstairs declaring, "I look like Mommy!"

Mark and I couldn't stop laughing!

She nailed so many things:

the shoes, the purse, the scarf, the sunglasses

Not to mention that she sort of looks like me anyway.

Always fun having my girl around here!

Argument Starters:Can we be done?

2010-06-02T16:59:00.000-05:00

Folks, I'm itchin to talk about something else.

Like...the day Lydia decided to paint her own nails.

Or...the day my brother Kevin resuscitated a huge fish.

Or...the day the lake and sky turned bronze.

**Sigh***
But I'm feeling an obligation to the 7 of you (Hi, Mom!) who read this blog to bring the worship argument to a tidy close.

It's been a nice ugly little big walk in the park through the mud puddles, wouldn't you say? Mostly, I want a life that pleases God and one that does not bring shame to who He is. I want to walk in faith and love people and prove that life's meaning comes after we die. (I want to believe that last part wholeheartedly instead of most-of-the-time-heartedly.)

For me, the closet musician, the stage musician, the shower musician, the humming-all-the-time musician, talking about worship without music feels empty. I do worship without music, but worshiping with music comes naturally out of who I was created to be.

I also believe music is important to God.

That's really what it comes down to. If God, in His wisdom, saw it best to eliminate my power of speech or the use of my hands, I sure hope somebody else would do it in my stead. Not because it's about what I bring to God, but because He's worthy to be worshiped the way He's asked us to.

Let's just use a little example from parenting.

My kids make their beds everyday. I did not have to do this when I was a child (bless you, Dear Mother!!!) but I have taught my kids how to make their beds (and have taught them how to make mine in case guests are coming over. I kid! I kid! Sort of.) Anyway, so I instructed them how to do it, I showed them how to do it, I watched them do it and encouraged really good bed making. And my oldest 3 do a stellar job of bed making.

But one day, one of them decides to do it a different way by putting the quilt on upside down. The bed is made. It's neat, tidy and upside down. But who cares? He is still basically followed my instructions. I didn't correct it because I'm not expecting perfection here. We even kind of joked around about it at bedtime. "Heehee, that's not really how it's supposed to be, but it sure is creative, Son..."

A few days later, there's a lump under the upside down quilt. A quick peak reveals he didn't pull up his sheet. Everything's just a tumbled up mess, with an upside down quilt on top. And this time, my heart just sank a teeny tiny bit, because while my kiddo clearly knows the expectation, he's choosing to fulfill it half heartedly

Without freaking out on him or even pulling out the Mean Mommy voice I sit down and chit chat with him about 'what's up with the bed?' He clearly knows he wasn't doing a good job, and has no other explanation than, I just didn't want to do it the right way.

I can totally relate to that. I don't like to make my bed either! I let him know that I care only a teeny bit about what the bed looks like, but I care a whole lot about his responsibility in honoring and respecting his mommy.

What in the WORLD does this have to do with music and worship?

Here's my point. If God tells us to sing to him soooooooooooooooo many times in the Bible, I think we should do that. Sing! Make music! Out loud and in your heart! Make a joyful noise! Not because Jody Robinson likes to sing nor because it's the only way to worship. It's much simpler than that. We worship God with music because he tells us to. Period.

Why did it take a blood sacrifice to wash away sins? Because God said so.
Why are we supposed to sing? Because God said so.

When it comes to elements of faith I'm hoping I'm in the crowd that's doing it like He said to do it, and not something of my own rendering, or culturally standard or brilliantly creative.

Am I missing something here?

Because I really am open to Kirk bringing his hammer and me bringing mine and we'll both start to pound until other people get their hammer's going, too, if this will glorify God. We were certainly created by God to worship him with all our gifts and skills. But when we come together as a group of people who love God, let's worship Him by singing! And let's use relevant music with lyrics than honor and respect and speak of the One True God.

I'm a girl who goes across the spectrum on what kind of music I like. So whether we have a band, or a guitar, or an organ, a drum or nothing but voices doesn't matter to me a hill of beans. I can take it all or leave it all. But it seriously bothers me when people worship with one style of music, while filling their lives with other kinds of music. The "We Only Do Hymns" I have no problem with, if that's the music of their lives. But if "We Only Do Hymns" listens to 95 Country all day long. What is that? Why is there 'God Appropriate' music and 'Inappropriate' music? Why are we drawing lines around what's secular and the sacred based upon tempo and instrumentation?

For some people this may be a dull conversation because the church you're apart of is filled with other believers who think a lot like you or who "worship" in a way that's seems normal or close to regular or perfect. For others, this is a really hard topic to think about because of all the emotions involved.

Music affects people's emotions. I'm in a very different mood when I listen to Sweet Home Alabama than I am when I listen to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. It stirs different emotions in me as they were both intended to do. They lead my mind in different directions. I'm in the camp that thinks God knows this and created it to be such.

Does that give us enough to talk about?

Because I could go on....

Nailing the Big One First

2010-06-01T16:23:00.000-05:00

Kirk totally nailed a point on Sunday. He said he worships best with a hammer in hand. It is his finest instrument of worship. Put his fingers on a piano keyboard and he doesn't produce worship. But wrap his hand around a hammer, and he glorifies God by what he does.

Guess what? I don't worship with a hammer. This should not surprise you. And I'm lousy with power tools. The main reason we have only 2 pictures hanging in my house is because we have plaster walls and I'm too much of a sissy to learn to use a drill the right way.

But I play and sing music. I'm really good when I use a microphone to speak to a crowd. I like most to worship God with a bunch of other people (this is my self-acknowledged bias, Ed) and my skill set/giftings are centered around getting people to do things together, uniting vision, inspiring community, implementing change.

Taking this plunge into the deep end of worship, alone and together, has been so good for me. Especially in the arena of personal daily worship. It's the big arena. I've got to nail this one first.

If I don't worship alone, I probably won't worship with other believers. If my worship doesn't include my kids at home, it probably won't feel strange to worship without them at church. If I'm not authentic,vulnerable, consistent with relationships with people, I probably won't be authentic with God. If I'm looking for 'me time', I probably won't realize God's not interested in my 'me time'.

So that's where I'm at with the Biggie. Worshiping God in the every day, the every moment.
Like here.

Where the work of God's hands in creation and the work of His hands in my son collide on the spillway of a waterfall. Worshiping God right there. Out loud, inside. Alone and with my family. Worship.

But we still have this other arena, the worshiping together arena. Should Kirk bring his hammer, and I'll bring a mic and we'll worship together? Why does the Bible reference singing to God over 500 times? Where do our emotions fit into worship? Why is there so much passion about music in general? Is there any division between secular and sacred when it comes to music?

Those, my friends, will be talked about tomorrow. But go ahead and get the first word, if you'd like.

Third Time's a Charm

2010-05-27T14:59:00.000-05:00

Argument Starter: How much focus does it take to worship?

The kids. What do we do with the kids? Did you know nursery and childcare facilities and staff are what draws many, many families to church? And if the parents find a church community below their expectations, they often leave.

Here's how this generally goes down on Sunday:

"Here's your class, kids! Have fun! Oh, I'm sure it will be fun, look who else is here! It's SuzyQ, and isn't her dress so cute?! No, you don't want to come with me, it would be so boring for you. You can do Big Church when you're bigger. This is fine, it will be fine, it'll even be fun if you try a little. No, you cannot have your DS. Put it back in my purse. PUT IT BACK in my purse, you can have it on the way home.....Did you like Children's Church? Did you have fun? What did you do? I said when we get in the car!"

Next comes the great nursery drop off.

"She needs a bottle, a paci and her blankie in order to walk across the room. She will only cry if you put her down. Please don't feed her. Last time she choked on the Cheerios because she's only used to organic food....if you could be really nurturing and motherly to her, but also consistent with sharing and definitely make her sit in the corner if she bites someone again. Is there someone who could just kind of follow her around? It would make me feel so much better. Thanks. Have fun little Sweety! Oh, she's starting to cry. You'll take care of this right?.....Did that woman just wiped my kid's nose without washing her hands? Did they change her diaper? Why did they change her diaper? It was barely wet!"

But what about tweens?

"Hi, this is Leonard Jr. He goes by Lenny. Do ya'll have adult supervision at ALL times? Is there any way you could keep a fire extinguisher close? He has a little history with fire issues...I'm pretty sure it's because we never went camping when he was younger. Anyway, um...are you going to do some games or do you have donuts....? Oh, good! You have video games, because our last church wanted the kids to interact with each other and the adults, and we found that created some interpersonal conflict. This is so great! Lenny, it looks like you'll fit right in here."

And while I don't have a teenager, I remember being a teenager and I'm pretty sure the following conversation may be the most verbatim.

"Mom, I don't want to sit with you guys. All of my friends sit together. No, they don't want to sit with my family, that'd just be weird. We listen. Really!! We do. Gosh, I just don't get the big deal? Why does it matter where we sit or who we sit with or whose hand we're holding during church? We're there to worship God! Why are you watching us anyway? And usually we only start holding hands during the prayer time. Thanks. And afterwards a bunch of us want to go to DQ....to hang out. Well, of course in cars, where else would we sit? (this was back when there was no indoor seating at the local DQ, anybody remember that?) Great, so I'll see you at church and I'll be home by 10:00."

Whew. Glad that's over.

Can somebody PLEASE give me some good reasons for seperating by age on Sunday morning? When did this start? Whose idea was it? Why did we go along with it? Here are the reasons I've heard.

Children are:

noisy

distracting

disruptive

uninterested

too young

not well behaved

Parents:

need a break

need time to focus on God

don't know what to do about communion

think subject matter is too deep/heavy/PG 13

People:

want to worship, not be distracted by kids

need to feel welcomed

aren't used to little kids around

like it quiet when they worship

I have an answer for all of those. All.of.them. This doesn't surprise you, does it? But that might get a little tedious. If you beg, I might share more, but here I'm gonna lump together some of the biggies:

Children are distracting, disruptive, & noisy.
Yes, they are. So what!? When did worshiping as group of people who love God become something un-distractable, un-disruptable and decidedly quiet?

Worship does take focus. Focus on the Creator of all. Focus on what He's done. Focus on who He is. Children are a great big part of what God's done and who He is.

Being able to worship God and take care of the needs of snotty-nosed, noisy children does take a level of patience and understanding. But that level is bottom-ground believer's faith. This is not one of those "have to mature into it" kind of issues. This is people are more important than things. Others are more important than self. God is not waiting for the children to be quiet so we can worship him. He's not! Have you asked Him?

I don't understand the rationale behind asking other adults to facilitate "Kids Worship" because the kids might interrupt my worship of God . What kind of value does that place on the adult facilitators? On Sundays at church as well as every other day of the week, I’m modeling worship for my kids. And modeling it for the other kids and adults around me. If you watch my life and don't see and hear worship, shame on me. If you watch me on Sunday morning, you’ll see me sing, pray, raise my hands, bend down and correct my son who is kicking the seat in front of him, and go right back to raising my hands and singing my heart out. Am I less of a worshiper because I had something else to do at that moment? Am I less authentic or more authentic because I welcome the cost of distraction in order to gain the goal of kids who know their mom loves God and wants them to worship Him too?

Children are too young, uninterested & not well behaved
Too young? When do they become old enough to worship? Can my child worship in the nursery? Can she worship? Does she think? Can she think about her creator being so fresh from creation?
When will we let her prove her worthiness to worship with the rest of believers? Have I proved my worthiness to do so? Because there are loads and loads of folks who would say I'm seriously disruptive!

What about in the preschool room? In the K-2nd class? In Kid's Church? Are they worshiping there? Are we telling them to worship there? I don't know.

I'm with them on the uninterested part. Sometimes it's really hard to be interested in worship. Especially when I'm self focused and waiting to see what's in this worship service for me. Have we taught our children that worship is about God? About bringing something to God? Providing something for God? So us big people tend to hind our disinterestedness. It's not any more holy just because it's quiet. Knowing God intimately breeds interest. In adults and children.

Children are not well behaved. Shame on us. Seriously, seriously shame on us. Children are not new to creation. Their issues are not new to creation. Their schemes and tactics and disobedience are not new to creation. If we, as believers, take responsibility to teach our own children and to teach other parents how to teach their children according to principles in the Bible instead of pop culture, this shouldn't be a problem for long. But somehow it's really hard for a parent who has a child who disobeys to take responsibility for it as their problem. And stuffing all the kids away from the eyes of the whole group of believers does a disservice to those parents. Because we have people who have done this. Who can help. Who can teach.

Ok, guys, I don't have time today for the other areas. Sheesh! I got on a roll there. Oh, well, maybe tomorrow if this post doesn't stir up enough arguing.

p.s. Sometimes my kids go to the nursery. Sometimes my kids go to Children's Church, everyone once in a while even Sunday School. What I've seen there are adults who genuinely care about my kids and teach them from the Bible and pray for them. For all of that I'm truly thankful. This argument is in no way aimed at the integrity, effectiveness or motivation of people who serve children.I love those people! It's aimed at figuring out if worship of God could be done better if we did it altogether.

Part 2

2010-05-26T15:12:00.007-05:00

Argument Starter: Are we authentic worshipers?

I'm talking about We, the collective believers, when we're all together. Are we authentic? Are we really worshiping God? How would we know if we were? If we're not worshiping would we be willing to change what we're doing into worship?

As Ed or Gretchen pointed out in a previous comment, worship is an attitude toward God. So maybe we should ask if we're worshiping when we're not together. If we're not worshiping when we're alone, we probably aren't worshiping when we're together.

My answer is: No. We’re not authentic. We, as a people, would rather sit in front of a TV for hours and hours of our lives instead of serving God by serving his church and loving the lost. Or we would rather produce things of no eternal value like photos, crafts, doodads, competitions than produce worship. Or we'd rather consume our lives with technology and computers and books, so that we don't look for wisdom in the Giver of all knowledge. No, we are not authentic worshipers in our alone lives or we would not so waste our time.

What we are is sinners, saved by grace. And I do not say that lightly. So I'll say it again. I am a sinning kind of person saved by the unmerited favor of God. Like, seriously.

I have done nothing to deserve the goodness in my life or in the eternity that is to follow. God has done everything to bring me close to Him. When I have failed Him, He has never failed me. When I have walked away from belief, from worship, from making right choices, He has never moved. That is why I worship. Because I know, personally, this God who has performed miracles on my behalf, who comforts me when I cry, who reveals Himself to me when I seek Him. This is my God!

Now, I'm sitting here at my keyboard on the 3rd floor of my house (which was sweltering until I turned on our window A/C) and I'm worshiping God. Because I'm grateful and full of emotion about who He is. No one else is here. Besides Claire who keeps interrupting this writing with questions about adjectives. (more on kids & worship tomorrow) But perhaps, in a few minutes, I will tire of being consistently interrupted. I'll snap at my daughter with a pointed remark like, "Can't you see I'm doing something here?!" and about that time my worship will come to a screeching halt. I'll return focus to myself, my agenda, my blog, my blog readers, and the rest of me, myself and I. God will not have moved. I may.

And somewhere along about dinner time, I'm gonna remember God again. I'm going to remember He's in control of my life, my breath, my food and I'm going to join hands with my family and we'll talk to God together. Worship him around a table while we eat. Or perhaps by that time, I may have burnt my hamburgers and the kids haven't picked up the yard from afternoon playing and I might be in a real crappy mood. In which case, not much worship is going to happen as we join hands and pray. See, I believe I can totally pray, sing, dance, raise hands or bow down without worshiping. You might not be able to tell the difference, because it might look the same on the outside depending on how much effort I feel like putting into faking it. But God can tell.

And how can we encourage each other to worship authentically alone and together unless we're willing to tell the difference?

Okay, and one more totally random pet peeve about worshiping together. WHY do we sing about a bended knee, or bowing down when NO ONE IS ON THEIR KNEES! What is that?!

Gotta Sneak in Some Seriousness

2010-05-25T16:38:00.004-05:00

I've been arguing lately. Mostly with myself. But sometimes with fellow believers who love God and love to worship Him. And by arguing, I mean vigorously exchanging ideas while only half-listening to the other person because I'm already thinking about what I'm going to say next. (Hey, just telling it like it happens.) So I thought I'd write some of this down. If you want to join in, I'd love your thoughts.

We're arguing/talking about worship at church. How we worship, what we worship, when we worship, where we worship....all that. And more. Wowsers!! It's a lot to talk about. And it begets lots of talk about what people look like when they worship and what kind of worship they like and I've been dabbling in conversations trying to stir up some passion about why we do what we do where we do it and who we do it with.

(And here's a purple iris for you. Has nothing to do with this post, but it's fun to look at.)

So over the next week, I'm gonna blog snippets of those conversations that happen in my head when I'm all by myself and that occasionally happen with other people:

Argument Starter: We're pretty open about how other people should worship.

Oh, seriously. No we're not! I think most people believe other people’s worship should look a lot like their own. Oh, we'd like to think we're so tolerant and it's all just about everyone focusing on God, but I don't think that runs very deep. Because if someone messes with our own worship agenda we tend to FREAK OUT!

For instance, in my own life, I like it when people raise hands during worship. The Bible talks about it, it is the universal sign of surrender, it conveys dependence, etc..... I even like dancing in church because I dance a lot in my regular life. Like when I'm cooking dinner, and when I'm sweeping and when Beautiful Girls by Sean Kingston comes on the radio. I dance. With myself, my kids, my husband, my girlfriends. So I'm probably going to dance in my worship. So singing: yes. Hands up: yes. Dancing: yes. Laying out on the floor prostrate: a little weird.

See? I'm starting to freak out. Not because it's unBiblical, not because I haven't seen it before. I've actually even done it before but I'm still not totally accustomed to it. But what would I do if everyone laid out prostrate on Sunday morning? Like face on the floor in front of me? The Bible talks about that, too, but I might question it or get a quirky look on my face or I might join them with my own face planted. You never know.

But I definitely like it when people are demonstrative with worship. When I think I can see on their face what their attitude toward God is it inspires me to worship along with them. And to be truthful, I consider that when I'm leading worship. Other people are watching me when I worship on a stage and I’m trying to non-verbally communicate that I love God and this is really important to me.

So, any thoughts? Are we tolerant about worship? Biblical about worship? Does it matter? Would we change something if we learned something new?

Progression

2010-05-17T16:15:00.000-05:00

A cutie in tie-dye makes me smile to myself.

A cutie in tie dye wearing tweed-sided pink galoshes plopping down on a concrete blob in the middle of a field, only after spreading out her sweatshirt to sit on...makes me giggle out loud.

A cutie in tie-dye with tweed-sided galoshes who refuse to admit she is small cracks me up.

A denial-soaked cutie in tie-die with tweed-sided pink galoshes using her infantile biceps to hoist her 32 pounds of pure soft cuteness into the bed of a truck full of junk makes me call over other people to join me in laughing and pointing at the entertainment.

A cutie in denial and tie dye failing to be able to lift her galoshes-clad foot up and over the tailgate and resorting to a small, backwards-glance sheepish, "help"....there's just not enough kinds of giggling for that.

Sod Bustin'

2010-05-12T16:35:00.006-05:00

**This post is very photo intensive. Not to be viewed by people who are tired of seeing pics of my family.**

In the farming world there's something called "Sod Bustin". This is where ground previously used for grazing or houses or scenic meadowland or a brick factory becomes land on which you plant crops. After plowing a couple times you need good, strong people to get in there and clean up all the rocks, bricks, tools, barbed wire, tree trunks and scrap metal that have been unearthed. And when you need to sod bust, you call in your very best farmhands.

Then you notice right away that some hands work faster than others.

But most importantly we all work together.

Some workers are cute when they don't do anything.

Some smile and make your heart flip flop even when they smell like...well, you know.

And some find these amazing spear-shaped treasures.

Some are concerned with keeping things cleaned up.

(I asked Lydia what she was doing in this picture, "My Lilla Ru doin' sumpin' bad". Then I giggled and giggled.)

But the hands-down best part about tromping through fields looking for junk is the 4-wheeler that gets you to the next spot to purge.

This is what we've become...

a family who wears boots as part of our education...

and gloves to drive.

I'm lovin' Us.

What Focus Can Do

2010-05-08T10:45:00.002-05:00

I'm standing on my porch messing with a lens. I'd recently switched to manual focus to take pics of these beauties.

About twice a year my subject matter briefly leaves the face/back/hair/freckle/foot of a child and I switch into a crazy flower taking mode. So here I am embracing flower mode with manual focus and then that mode began morphing into take pictures of random things on my porch while playing with focus. It's a hard mode to find. Actually, not many people dare tread into Random Porch Things mode. But if you ever find yourself on that thin precipice tentatively peering down into house minutia jump right in, it doesn't hurt.

This is what happened to me.

Fun light blobs in the background always make great pictures.

Usually, the goal is to have something in focus in front of those blobs.

Being close to focus, but not quite focused, is worse than completely out of focus. Do you hear the really loud "ALMOST!!!!" screaming from the image? I hear it in a lot of my life, er...I mean, photos.

Then focus.

Clarity. Clearness.

Light blobs doing what they were born to do. Accentuating the cross with their color and variety, yet not being the purpose of the photo.

But on the porch, focus continues to change. Perhaps I should go find out what those light blobs really are?

Funny, the cross just disappeared altogether.

I didn't change anything but the focus ring on my lens for all 6 of these photos. I stood in the same place (without tripod, hence the tiny angle differences) and just changed my focus depth.

Life lessons from a silly porch thing.

An Equation

2010-05-06T15:53:00.002-05:00

Post #189 minus 4 kids plus 5 days of company divided by 1 mommy times 6 vomiting family members, oh, forget it. There's no real way to justify missing so many weeks of blogging. Nor is there a cute way to explain why I'm doing this list. Some people do a list of 100 things for their 100th post. Others do 100 things on their 100th day of blogging. So like all good wannabe writers, I saw it somewhere else, and now I'm making it my own. But I already passed the 100th post and day, and I couldn't think of 200 things about myself in one sitting...so here's a list of stuff about me:

1. I like to be funny
2. I get REALLY irritable one week a month
3. I fell off a waterfall when I was 15
4. It happened on a mission trip
5. I really like cool clothes, but realize I'm not quite cool enough to wear them
6. I fixed my firstborn's hair everyday
7. I fix my fourthborn's hair about twice a week
8. I want to adopt
9. I hope God gives me more biological children, too
10. I married the guy I had a crush on since 5th grade
11. We were married when I was 19
12. Lots of people thought we were too young
13. I'm a BIG advocate of young marriage
14. Maybe arranged marriages, too:)
15. I believe marriages work because of commitment & character
16. All the other gushy stuff is bonus
17. I'm really loud most of the time
18. I admire those who lead well without being loud
19. Honesty is very important to me
20. I think I was a compulsive liar in Jr. High
21.I narrate my life to myself in my head to make myself giggle
22.I detest cleaning
23.I like to cook when it's for a bunch of people
24.Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches happen at least once a week at our house
25.Now that I'm an adult I understand why we need faith like a child
26.My daughter is really disturbed that I'm getting gray hair
27. Me too
28.I love to be outside
29. I don't like to be cold
30. I love riding horses, but have only done it a dozen times in my life
31. My nickname as a child was Grody Jody
32. Because I had 5 brothers
33.I love to speak publicly
34. Sometimes I get tired of the sound of my own voice
35.I believe s'mores should always be made with 2 marshmallows
36. I've had 2 perms in my life, 15 years apart and loved them both
37. I started college with a major in Music Theater, and left with a Social Work degree
38. I love Chocolate Raspberry Truffle Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory
39. Also Lemon Raspberry Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory
40. My favorite, but rarely indulged in, snack is a pint of raspberries all to myself
41. I don't like to find out the gender of my babies before they're born
42. If you don't love my children, I probably won't let you babysit them
43.I drink tea everyday, either hot or iced
44. I sing all day long
45. I sing really obnoxiously when playing games at tables
46. My brother, Kevin, usually harmonizes with me at table games
47. I weigh more now than at any time other than pregnancy
48. :(
49. I dance with my kids in the living room
50. I hope they'll always dance with me
51. I hope I'll always dance
52.I love presents! Giving and getting
53.Now that we're adults, my brothers usually call me Sister
54.I love to travel
55.I didn't fly in a commercial plane until I was 22 years old
56. My firstborn flew in a commercial plane 23 times before she turned 3
57.I think I'm my Grandmother's favorite
58. Everyone else thinks so, too
59. It's caused some issues over the years
60. I hope my kids think they are each my favorite
61.When I was in 6th Grade I told my teacher, Mrs. Link, I wanted to be an author when I grew up
62.I was a cheerleader for 6 years
63. I was kissed by a counselor at summer camp when I was a camper
64.I've only shared that publicly once, the first time was last week
65. I regret quitting piano lessons
66. I love stories! Reading, listening, writing, telling
67.I tried to learn to water ski 5 times but never got up
68. I got up on a knee board the first time I tried
69. I wish I played guitar better
70. I wish B chords weren't so hard to play
71. I don't like waking up
72. I like staying up
73. If I'm testing a mic, I'll probably sing "Mama said there'd be days like this..."
74. I made up a song to sing to my firstborn at bedtime when she was just days old
75. 8 years later, I'm still singing it to a child every night
76. My favorite movie genre is psycho-thriller
77. I've only walked out of 1 movie: American Psycho
78. The only movie I've ever watched twice in a theater: Avatar
79. I watch about 1 hour of TV a week
80. I spend about 1 hour on the computer each day, sometimes 2, maybe 3 if I have work to do
81. I think I'd do really well living in a commune
82. No, I'm not planning to start a cult
83. People energize and exhaust me
84. If I could have 1 household chore done for me everyday: Dishes
85. Every week: Cleaning the toilets
86. My first job after getting my Bachelor's Degree: Nanny
87. I said many times that I never wanted to home school
88. Now, I home school
89. It's hard for me to imagine not homeschooling
90. My motto: People are more important than things
91. I love everything about the seashore
92. I know that God loves me
93. That knowledge has changed my whole life
94. I've just recently figured out that knowing God means loving people
95. I'm truly surprised it took me so long to realize
96. This summer I'm going to have a dog for the first time
97. I wish I was more consistent
98. Consistency is not my strong suit
99. I love to look at photos
100. There are only 2 photos hanging in my house
101. I'm going to put up a bunch more really soon
102. I've been saying that for over a year
103. I thought I would be living overseas at this point in my life
104. I still think one day I will

Quotes from the Backyard: This is Not a Gun Shop

2010-04-20T08:33:00.000-05:00

Overheard yesterday in the Robinson backyard:

"Remember, this is a toy store not a gun shop!"

What My Life Says

2010-03-25T21:16:00.003-05:00

So I just found this site, wordle.net

The deal is you type in any serious of words, and it creates art by making the most frequently used words the largest in the picture. You can even have it do your entire blog, which is what I did.

So this is what my life says:

Wow. Did I know it said that? Am I surprised by anything? I'd love your thoughts.

The Journey

2010-03-08T09:38:00.001-06:00

I started working out two days ago. Its been 3 years since I consistently pressed myself to move more.

Ouch.....It hurts.....Muscles being stretched back to places once familiar.....the monotony of putting one foot in front of the other and repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat.......Discipline to do something every day, instead of every day that I feel like it.....

Why? Why do I want to do this? Why did I stop? What other areas of my life have I let go as slack as my abdominals? As atrophied as my triceps? As unconditioned as my heart?

Is working out a way to avoid other areas of my life that may be just as undisciplined and wildly un-reigned as the number on the scale?

Let me tell you about the last time that I worked on a healthy physical body. I met with a trainer, told him my weight and body mass goals. He did all the measuring and calculating,and then told me, "No. I don't want you to lose that much weight."

Basically he told me to increase my goal five pounds because I was going to train myself to build muscle. It takes longer, but it changes who you are, not just a number on a scale. And he was honest with me that this wasn't a "lose-weight-quick" deal and we wouldn't see the big results for about 4 months.

So get this. I worked out 5 hours a week, cardio and strength training. And after 1 month, I lost 5 pounds. Do you realize that means I spent 25 HOURS of time to see a 5 pound difference in my body?! The next month, with the same program, I lost 2 more pounds. 2 pounds for 25 hours! But this is perhaps why those trainers make the big bucks...because in months 3 and 4, I lost all the weight I wanted to.

Ya'll that means it took 100 HOURS of my time to reach my goals for physical healthiness. The month before I started working out, I had those same 25 hours. But I wasn't using them to change my life. Why would I think it would be any different with spiritual health? or marriage health? or parenting health? or friendship health? or family health? But in those areas of my life, I tend to want to throw a book at them. Read it for 15 min, a few times a week and expect results. Teach my kids a few Bible verses a year, and expect them to love obedience. Be patient every now and then and wonder why people think I'm inconsiderate? What might happen if I spent 25 hours a month purposely doing the opposite of what has become routine?

Change is hard. Change is not a quick fix. Change that lasts doesn't take a few minutes when we feel like it, but hours and hours of time doing something we may not see the results of for months.

I actually LOVED working out (especially with you, Karen B.)! I loved the "time away", the "me time", I loved that I could read a book on the elliptical machine. I loved the babysitting included at my gym!

This time around I'm doing it differently. Without my little escapism tendencies. I'm doing it with my kids, or with my husband, or with whomever is around to talk during real life hours, not the hours when I'm "off duty". I'm going to try to bring health to several areas of my life at the same time, instead of using one area to avoid the others. It's harder. It might take longer. The pain will be vast.

But for today, I'm relating the tension and soreness I feel in my calves to the uncharted thoughts and emotions that come when my old relational habits start to rebel against the new ones: thoughts that accuse others and deny responsibility, thoughts that think this will never work, thoughts that claim it's not even worth the effort.

Man, my calves are aching today. Lord, teach me to not fear the pain. Here's to life change....

Here's Some Stuff in List Form

2010-03-03T07:07:00.010-06:00

Have had some stuff going on:

My annual Female Fling to Florida, pics still on the camera.
Remodel of third floor, no pics yet, still in process, computer barely floating in a sea of remodeling clutter (that's why no pics/posts lately, the 3rd floor computer stores all the pics, so if you ever steal a computer from my house, please take the laptop. thank you.)
Trimming out the kitchen with crazy things like baseboards and door trim, pics when finished
1 Gallon white paint spilled down the front staircase, couldn't take pics, too heartbreaking
My whole family is healthy! At the same time! :) perhaps we should take some pictures!
Snow is beginning to melt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'll take a pic when I can see grass.
Lydia discovered the joys of Desitin-as-hand lotion/finger paint this week. no pic
Lydia discovered the joys of polishing her own fingernails/finger this week. Yes, all 10 of them. Yes, from the 2nd knuckle forward. Yes, I took a picture. Yes, it was also all over the toilet, sink, floor, clothes. Yes, I still store the fingernail polish in a location that is easily accessible to children. Why? I don't know.
I do believe God's face is upon me...my 3rd Grader is finally mastering multiplication facts...ooooooh that was a long, hard road. But progress is being made.
Been looking at the cover of this book for a month now.

My Beautiful Idol

I haven't read the book, but I've learned so much from just thinking about the title and what the book could be about. How I adorn myself, think about myself, worship? myself...what other things in life have I tried to create/do/be/care for/long for that God might consider an idol. Albeit, a very beautiful, pretty, colorful, well-manicured idol. But an idol. Something I use to make myself feel better or look better instead of using the life and power God offers me. Or perhaps its something I'd like everybody to look at and admire instead of having them look at my character...because we all know character cannot be manufactured.

I haven't read the book. I don't even know what the back cover says. I bought it from the bookstore because the title was so captivatingly convicting. I look at and begin to question my actions and my motives. Who needs to read the book when the title does all that?!

Here's a thought: write those word down somewhere in your life and just look at them.

Redneck Reality: Roadtrips Rock!

2010-01-25T22:41:00.014-06:00

While thinking about writing up a synopsis of our recent road trip to Texas, my mind started drifting to other road trips we've taken...

The Good: Mark & I road tripped to a cabin in the smokey mountains for our honeymoon the day after we got married. Seriously, the best road trip ever! I don't remember a thing we saw, how long it took, where we ate or any of those other things you do. All I remember was driving with a huge smile on my face all the way to Tennessee....:)

The Bad: Claire was almost 3, Luke & Caleb were 6 months, we were traveling home to Texas in a 1995 Intrepid. Babies screaming....Claire squished in between them. Stopping to nurse and burp and change diapers every hour or so. Totally physically and emotionally exhausting. Completely no fun.

The Ugly: Now here's a story that can only be attributed to a bunch of folks who just didn't know any different. Thus it falls right into the section of my life I call: Redneck Reality.

Just to give you a sense of who I was at the time, here's a picture of me on that trip. But this happy smile-y birthday picture was taken at least a week after the brunt trauma of the road trip.

When I was almost 4 years old, my family decided to go to my Aunt & Uncle's lakehouse in Indiana. It's about a 7 hour drive straight through. And that was exactly what my parents planned to do. Drive straight through. Which is a grand and noble plan for folks with teen-age children in an age of DVD-clad vehicles and comfy, cushion-y reclining seats. But this was 1980. And they didn't have a single child who was a teenager.

They had 4 kids. Ages 8, 6, almost 4, & 2. And a Grandmother, 70 somthing, who was going along for the fun. But because they really are good parents, they planned and prepared as best they could for this trip.

Their vehicle, a 1975? gray cargo van was equipped with 2 seats. The driver's and the shotgun. The whole back of the van was cavernous or so it seemed to an almost 4 year old. So cavernous, in fact, that my parents put in some extra seating to make the drive more comfortable for the family.

The first piece of unique vehicular seating came from the foyer of their home: an antique 5 ft long wooden church pew. This was w-a-y before seatbelt laws. Back when mommies carried babies home from the hospital on their laps and brothers spent entire car rides wrestling in the back seat.

The pew thing could've caught on with car manufacturers (and maybe that's where they got the term BENCH SEAT!!!) because it was truly effecient seating for a cargo van. All 4 of the kids could sit up on that highly waxed wooden pew and slide from one end to the other with every stop and acceleration. This is the stuff memories are made of...two older brothers squeezing you against a wooden pew armrest, all the while giggling, "We can't help it! It's Dad's fault, 'cause he sped up the van and we have no choice but to lean against you with all our weight! Really, we'll stop squishing you as soon as he comes to a stop sign!" Memories, I tell you. Memories.

But that church pew didn't have enough room for Grandmother. (If it did, I'm sure my brothers wouldn't have pinned her against the armrest!) Hmmm...What to do? Order an extra seat from the van factory? No. A folding chair? Nope. Oh! I know! One of those lawn chairs with the plastic mesh weave! Wrong again. My ever ingenuous parents just put a large, floral upholstered rocking chair in there with the pew. (Bet that was gonna be your next guess, wasn't it?)

Road trips Rock.
Grandmother was comfortably rocking and happily knitting an afghan all the way to Indiana.

I do remember somehow escaping the squeeze of the death on the pew and sitting up there on Grandmother's lap for a while. But my little brother got the majority of the cushy lap time because he was the baby. Actually, most of my visual memories from the road trip are from the vantage point of the floor looking up at the rocking chair and the pew. I'm guessing that was my seat of choice as the little girl ousted from the rocking chair and hiding from the pew boys squeeze torture.

But we haven't yet touched upon the ugliest part of the Redneck Rocking Chair Road Trip. The ugly part involves a 5-quart ice cream bucket. Do you know the type? (For those with an overactive gag reflex, I suggest you stop reading here.)

As any frugal family of 6 (plus a Grandmother) does when they road trip. We packed all our food to eat along the way. No MickyD's for us. It was white bread with pressed ham sandwiches. And bananas and apples and cheese puffs. And we can't forget the thermos full of water with plastic cups from the kitchen cupboard. (There's no need for disposable plastic cups or lids or canned beverages or travel mugs. This was 1980 people! Back when paper plates were a luxury and the travel mug was yet to be invented) So we made our way across Illinois and into Indiana as a downright picnic on wheels!

But after small children eat...they gotta go. But in case you missed the line up there in the 2nd paragraph of this true store, we were driving straight through. We were not stopping to go.

Here's where the bucket comes in. We used it "to go." And then just put the lid back on it and kept on rolling down the highway. Which was all fun and games until the little brother decides he must do a Number 2 in the bucket. At which point, a flimsy plastic lid, ain't gonna do much.

Picnic's over.
Road trips Rock.

New Theory in Parenting: Your 4th Child will be Just Like You

2010-01-24T17:22:00.011-06:00

This is a study in 4th children.
Our first 3 kids are a nice, heterogeneous mixture of both Mark and me. But our 4th? So far, by all accounts, the 4th child is just like the parent of the same gender. Granted, the sample size for this particular research study is small. (Very small, actually.) And while I'm not publishing statistics, the following data are but a very small handful of idiosyncrasies that Mark is completely unwilling to attribute to himself. And that I have no way to disguise in my own life. They make Lydia and I who we are.

Here a few distinguishing characteristics about me.

I like to make people laugh.
I'm good at encouragement.
I'm a rule follower.
It takes me a long time to figure out people don't like me.

And here are some samples of Lydia's daily life:

1. Having twin big brothers, has got to be tough for a little girl. They get a lot of attention, they make a lot of noise, they boss, and they're hard to tell apart. Like most small children, Lydia used to call both brothers, Luke. It was Luke and Luke. Actually, Duke and Duke before her 'L' sound came in. In an effort to not exclude Caleb, we often practice all the names in the family and have Lydia repeat them. The big kids all love the fun ways she says their names, "Dair, Duke, Bubub & Lilla" One day at lunch we were going around the table having Lydia repeat names.

Mommy: Claire
Lydia: Dair
Mommy: Luke
Lydia: Duke
Mommy: Caleb
Lydia: Duke
Mommy: That's not Luke, that's Caleb! Say, Caleb.
Lydia: Duke.(giggle, giggle)Lilla funny!

Yes, she really is funny. And she knows it. And knows how to work a room with her charm!

2. Lydia could encourage the white off of rice. No matter how big or small the accomplishment I get a "Good Job!" with clapping and face-wide smiles. I could've just finished setting the table, "Good job, Mommy!" Or maybe I moved a bike out of the driveway so I wouldn't run over it, "Good job, Mommy!", claps, smiles. Or perhaps I sang on the stage during worship at church. When I return to my seat, the other 526 people in room stay pretty silent with maybe a nod of the head. But not Lydia. "Good job, Mommy!" Claps. Smiles.

3. A couple months ago, before Lydia turned 2, I was backing out of our 50 ft. driveway and had driven all of 10 feet when Lydia started hollering, "Dee bel! Dee bel! Mommy, dee bel!" After much angst trying to figure out what had Lydia completely freaked out, we finally caught on. She was telling me I hadn't yet put my seat belt on! She likes everyone to follow the rules. And if she has to abide by them, everyone else does, too.

4. Up until baby #4, I have never had one of those kids who waves at strangers. You know the kind. Like when you're at Target and you're trying to be incognito while shopping for tampons, but there's a cute chubby toddler in the cart in front of you. And to seemingly, purposely, try to foil your plans of under-radar product shopping, the the little tike says, "Hi" with a big grin on face and a nonstop wave. You smile and give an almost inaudible little chuckle. But that baby wants to be your best friend! It keeps waving and talking and smiling until you either feel guilty enough about blowing off a cute kid that you engage in a full-on conversation, or you get frustrated enough that you scoot on over to the shampoo isle until the mom and tot have spread their happy cheer into another part of the store.

I have that kid. If she's acting shy around you, it's because she thinks she's cute acting shy, not because she really is.

She waves or calls out to people walking their dogs and people in the tampon isle. The greeters at the grocery store and Walmart love her. People offer her stickers and suckers everywhere we go. Even if you came right out and told her you didn't like her, she'd probably think it's just because you don't really know her yet. Just like her mommy.

All of those and 999 other things make us realize we have finally created a Mini-Me. And as I've looked around at other families with 4+ kids, I'm seein' a pattern. So let me know if my theory holds true in your family. And if you haven't gotten to your 4th child yet, you better get busy. The 4th one is fun!

Birth is Beautiful and I just had a Front Row Seat!!

2010-01-22T15:29:00.020-06:00

The benefit of having a best friend, is you get to see them give birth. Did you know this? If you have a best friend and she didn't let you watch her do this, then the two of you have not read the Official Rules of Best Friends. It's in there. There are some prerequisites involved. Like, you have to have argued, forgiven, cried together, etc.... Anyway, I digress. This is about birth!

While I don't claim to be an expert on the subject, I do have a pretty lengthy track list of ways to birth. So before you think I'm trying to get on a soapbox, about how to deliver YOUR baby, let me just explain the birth journey I've had.

Firstborn: Homebirth, no drugs, back labor 16 hours. "Ring of Fire" forever burned in my memory.
Twins: 7 hrs Natural labor, back labor, elbow presentation, Epidural :) C-section :(
4th Child: Natural labor for 10 hours, back labor, water shots, spinal block, VBAC

I can't think of many other options available for delivering a baby. So I've been around this birthing block extensively, but you know what? Every time I do it or see it, it truly is miraculous. No matter if it comes out of your nether regions, or straight out your tummy. If you're "a natural" or if you like to play cards while relaxing on the drugs. When a baby leaves the womb and breathes air in the world it is a moment unlike any other.

My bff, Gretchen, just birthed her fourth baby. Her first two births were epidurals all the way in the hospital. Third was no drugs, most of labor at home, then when she got to the hospital, nurses didn't believe her when she say she had to push. I whispered into her ear, "Push. What are they gonna do?" I didn't know that meant the baby would be born 2 minutes later onto the bed without anybody catching it! True story! (Obviously, I'm not a midwife.)

After all those fun births, she decided to mix it up a little bit and birth at home for baby #4. (Homebirths are totally, fully legal in Texas, unlike in the state I live) And in one of God's extravagent displays of affection for me, I was able to be there, in Texas, in the home, behind the camera, the day He unfolded the birthday of Gretchen's 4th baby.

The following pictures, while not necessarily graphic, may be highly emotional. Enter and enjoy. :)

Gretchen's water broke at 2:45 AM. While contractions quickly followed, they weren't all that consistent, nor exceedingly productive. So lets just call the first 7 hours of labor an introduction.

I took some photos of important stuff like baby hats and blankets.Gretchen made a phone call.We did some laundry and hung out in the living room. And Ed got right to work on this.That, my friends, is a kiddy pool. Usually content to be used for 3 year olds to splash in on hot summer days. But not this day! Oh, no! This day, the kiddy pool was steppin' up to a whole new level! It was embracing it's purpose as a birthing tub. Seriously. If all was to go as planned, those little fishies would be swimmin' round, not one, but two occupants!

Then, a couple hours later, we realized Gretchen's contractions were becoming even less consistent. The midwives explained, sometimes laboring mommies get so caught up in the excitment of being in labor and having people arrive and getting things ready, that their bodies actually forget to focus on the baby. And get this! They thought perhaps, I, Jody, was a distraction! Me?! Loud?! Easily excitable?! Really?!

They'd just met me. They probably didn't know me that well, but I played along and decided not to talk to Gretchen for an hour. She headed back to her room, to labor alone with her husband, while I hung out with the midwives.
Hmmm, those girls might know a thing or two, because Gretchen had consistent contractions every 8 minutes back in her bedroom. After, another hour or so, I was able to be around her again and not actually inhibit labor.

Then about 11:00, things started to be real consistent and Gretchen came back out to the living room and sat down and looked absolutely amazing to me. So I began snapping pictures, and she began looking away. Those pics are exactly 1 hour before birth. Wow!

Now, I'm not saying it was an easy labor by a-n-y stretch, of the imagination, but she handled it with grace and peace. Soon after these shots, she got into her birthing tub.
And then we had to add a little more water. Ed boiled some on the stove, which got too hot, so they balanced it with water from the hose. :)

And a mommy sitting in a kiddy pool is kind of a melancholy experience for a 3 year old. She'd really like to jump in there,too!
36 minutes before birth. Baby happy.
Mommy starting not to be so happy.
14 minutes till birth
10 minutes till...

3 minutes till...starts to push

Baby! And she, seriously, delivered that baby by herself! The midwife, made sure the head was safe, but Gretchen took her baby from her own body into her own arms. A truly astonishing sight. Brings tears to my eyes, even as I write it.

The rest of the pictures show another joy of home birth. The family is around to welcome and bond with the new baby immediately. Too precious.

Thank you, Gretchen, for letting me be a part of this. And for processing it as best I know how, with a lens. I love you.

Pick a Topic, Any Topic

2010-01-20T22:48:00.000-06:00

Okay, so I know I fell off the blog-o-sphere there for over a month. I tend to do that when my life gets a little crazy. But now that I'm starting to be back to normal, I don't know what to tell about first! So many choices, so little time in front of a computer.

But to help us all out, we can play a little interactive game I like to call, "Let's see if anyone is still actually following this blog."

If you're here, you can play.

Just pick from the following titles what post you want to read next:

A. How many dumdum suckers can a 2 year old consume on a 16-hour-road trip to Texas and other startling storiesB. Did Jody have Mono or is she just faking being sick so she doesn't have to cook?C. Birth is beautiful and I just got a front row seat!!!!!

D. New theories in parenting: Your 4th child will be just like you

E. My boys have a new role model/How to stalk your former pastor's daughter's fiance

I know this could be a really hard choice, but I'm just trying to figure out what the 3 remaining readers of this blog want to know about next.

The choices once again:

A. How many dumdum suckers can a 2 year old consume on a 16-hour-road trip to Texas and other startling stories

B. Did Jody have Mono or is she just faking being sick so she doesn't have to cook?

C. Birth is beautiful and I just got a front row seat!!!!!

D. New theories in parenting: Your 4th child will be just like you

E. My boys have a new role model/How to stalk your former pastor's daughter's fiance

See you tomorrow!

Happy New Year!

Well, That's Some of Us

2009-12-04T16:34:00.007-06:00

Feeling kind of nostalgic today. Came across this photo in my quest to actually print all the decent photos from 2009. This is my family. Some of them. We're missing some key players. Like my Dad and a new nephew. And we added three of my cousins. (Who, though we hadn't seen them in years, blended right in immediately for the weekend. Love you R, K, & B!)

So that's my Mom, my Grandmother, all 5 of my brothers, all of their wives (they each only have 1), and all the children God has blessed us with. And three bonus cousins.
Group photos are never my favorite. Very few people actually look good in a photo with more than 2 people in it. But this one, I might actually frame and put on my wall. Not because it's the best photo, but because all these people are mine. They are part of me. They belong to me as I belong to them. When tragedy strikes or blessings overflow, these are my people. I love them. I treasure them.

They obviously don't all know how to take a funny picture.
But they belong to me. They belong on my wall. Because they're mine.

"It Would Be Like a Fake Christmas"

2009-11-30T11:00:00.000-06:00

For the first year in 13 years of wedded Christmas bliss, I was contemplating buying an artificial tree this year.

There are obviously different kinds of folks in the Christmas tree world. We're not the 'cut your own tree down' folks. Or the 'buy one in a burlap sack' folks. Or 'go the Christmas tree farm on Christmas Eve wearing matching scarves' folks. Before moving here, and let me just draw you a map showing exactly where here is, X will mark the spot.

no X where

(Right in the middle. But it's actually really fun to be here. Come on around some time!)

Anyway, when we lived in an area that had a Home Depot we used to buy our tree at Home Depot.

We'd go as a family, I'd insist Mark bring along his own razor knife, because who wants a tree other people have already looked at and rejected. No. That does not work. I don't want somebody else's rejected Christmas tree.Instead, we (the Mark part of we) cut the ties on the still-wrapped up trees then we (again, the Mark part) shake them out then we (the Me part of we) judge shape to find the one that has been properly pruned for the last 9 years making a beautifully shaped Christmas tree.
Repeat. 9-21 times. This is not Mark's favorite part about Christmas.

I had the thought that perhaps we could buy an artificial tree this year. Mark's still getting the crop out of the field, so he's not very available to go tree shopping with us. And as you can discern from the description, he is an integral, albeit, begrudging member of the tree buying scenario. I can't hold the tree and visually measure up the tree by myself. This is just another reason God gave me a husband. But when I spoke aloud this idea at breakfast this morning, the kids went ballistic. No! No-ooooo! Why?! No! And my melo-dramatic firstborn, "It would be like a fake Christmas!"

One thing we cannot have is a fake Christmas. It must be a real Christmas. We'll continue to suspend our disbelief about certain other aspects about Christmas like:

Jesus was probably not born in December, most likely more like September
Saint Nick's day is actually December 6, not December 25
Santa Claus (spoiler alert!!!) is not real

Sorry, Mark. I tried. I really tried. But the resounding verdict is that we'll wait for you to go tree shopping. Betcha can't wait! (giggle) Hurry home!

Subtopic: How Not to Be A Stupid Maniac about Gifts

2009-11-19T21:48:00.013-06:00

Hello friends. Welcome to this blog post almost entitled "Because You Need Help, Even if You Don't Want It." I'm thinking it'll be a new label on the blog. That way, I'm giving full disclosure and disclaimer that I realize I'm telling people who didn't ask for help, what to do. Which, I'm finding is what a lot of the blog world does. I just wanted to be a little more overt about my intentions. And by the way, no one is paying me to write this or to review Christmas gift giving in general.

Topic: Christmas

Subtopic: How Not to Be A Stupid Maniac about Gifts (and I don't use Stupid very often)

As previously posted, I love presents. I love to get them and give them and look for them and wrap them and watch people open them and open them myself! The WHOLE PACKAGE (hee,hee, ok...not really funny) of gifts is right up there with my top 10 favorite things to do in life.

Did I mention I like a LOT of presents. Tons. It doesn't matter how big or how much they cost, but I love the idea that someone thought of me many times when picking out many presents. Because that's why I give multiple presents for a person because I saw something and thought of them.

Anyway, this present issue can quickly become a present problem. Because we attend 5 Christmas celebrations each year, and I have 4 children and 1 husband.

For a while, I just went overboard finding lots of fun stuff that everybody would love and then stayed up way too late trying to locate all my hiding places so I could stay up even later doing the wrapping.

And then somewhere during the Christmas season last year I found this concept. 4 presents for each person.

Something You Want
Something You Need
Something to Wear and
Something to Read

That Day I Took 349 Photos...

2009-11-17T22:09:00.010-06:00

...in 1 hour, 31 minutes, and 9 seconds. If the counter and timer on my camera can be trusted. That means I was snapping photos at the rate of one every 25 seconds, folks. And I've decided to show them all to you here on this blog.
Ok. Not really. I actually got bored looking through them all myself. And I'm the mother!

And really the event was much better suited for a video camera, as the following pictures will attest. But we did the best we could.

"Did you get that one, Mom?"

And I will admit, I was ever the encourager when it came to activities like these:

Because you're only a kid once. And some pictures are worth a broken leg. :) No, no legs were broken at all. Not that we didn't try.

And you know what they say, It's all fun and games until someone misjudges the beginning of the leaf pile and thoroughly drives a stick into their scalp.

So while I was waiting for the tears to dry up and the red eyes to return to normal color, I changed subjects. Thank goodness there's always another kid around these parts.

And this one was particularly fun to photograph.
Because she wasn't paying any attention to me and was having a blast.

If you want to know the truth, she was sick with that flu. Have you heard of it? H47Q956? Or something like that. Anyway, her fever was down below 101, and I thought the sunshine would do her some good. Come to find out, having a child play in the leaves when they don't feel well is not always the smartest thing to do. She had a relapse and slept for 3 hours that afternoon.

But, oh, did we get some good pictures!

Ever See a REAL Dead Mummy?

2009-11-11T21:26:00.009-06:00

We did.

One of the very best things about homeschooling is that when you're only trying to teach 3 students, you have time to let them do really cool stuff to apply what they're learning into life-long knowledge.

(Psst. This is not one of those 'why everyone should homeschool' posts. Or an 'I think I'm cooler, because I homeschool' or a 'if you homeschooled, your kid could wear jeans that are too short and nobody would notice, too' post. It's just a 'this is what we did one day' post. I'm glad we got that covered.)

Because we were studying Ancient Egypt, and I heard a rumor we have mummies just an hour away from the Middle of Nowhere, I planned a field trip with the other moms here in the Middle of Nowhere who are also total freaks of nature who homeschool their kids. Yes, there are quite a few of us. Watch out.

And to be totally honest. I learned SO MUCH!!! I swear nobody ever told me this stuff!!

Did you know that many many of the tombs are empty? Like, I know there are movies about Tomb Raiders and stuff. And I know once all the Hebrew people left Egypt and the Egyptians didn't have as much slave labor, times got kind of tough for the Egyptians and they stole the loot out of the pyramids. But nobody ever told me that in the late 1800's a tomb was found with 30 mummies in it. Most of them royal. And that Ramses (you know, the one Moses was talking to) had red hair! Seriously. We saw it. In Imax, so it was like 15 feet tall! And it was red and curly. I really really really thought all the Egyptians had dark hair. Guess what?! They didn't. They wore wigs.

Perhaps, you all knew this stuff. But for me, homeschooling is giving me a whole new education!

We paid extra for the "Guided Tour", which meant this guy stood there and pointed around the room at the different parts of the Ancient Egypt display and told the kids what they were.

And believe it or not, they had two mummies. The one in the foreground is still wrapped and is a male, and over there on the far left, is a female mummy unwrapped. I didn't take any up close pictures of her, because I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

The whole concept of voyeur-izing (my own word) these mummies is definitely love/hate with me. It's so cool to learn about it, and see it, and try to grasp what life was like for them. But I hate that I wonder if they would like being on display for a bunch of homeschool yahoos to come look at them? But then I think, wait a minute, it's just a shell of a body. That person's spirit is not there, why would I care if yahoos were looking at the shell of my body when I'm already in eternity? And then I think about the super intelligence it took to be able to preserve bodies/skin/hair like this. It really is a wonder of the ancient world. Such that we still are not able to reproduce it like they did. And that some of them did it specifically to be remembered for all of time(the movie told us that). So if they wanted to be remembered are we actually honoring them, by taking care of their remains? But is that just justification? Love/hate.
So then the questions during Q&A went something like this:

Topic One
Kid: What do those hieroglyphs say?

Tour Guide: I'm not sure

Kid: How come you don't know what they say?

Tour Guide: Well, I know a couple sounds

Kid: But could you just read part of it to us?

Tour Guide: Umm, I'm pretty sure this wavy line means water, and it's pronounced, 'cuh'

Kid: I don't think that's how you say it

Topic Two
Kid: How did the mummy die?

Tour Guide: The mummy didn't die, the person died

Kid: How did the person die?

Tour Guide: We don't know for sure

hee hee

Then while we were there we, of course, visited the rest of the museum. The mummy stuff is actually just one room. In the basement. (Where else could it be?)

So we pretended to float down the Mighty Mississippi.

And I'll give you three guesses as to how long we had to stand in front of this exhibit.

a. 15 seconds
b. 5 minutes
c. 15 minutes

Do you realize how little some of that print is? I was going hoarse just reading it all!

Then there was this really fun puppet stage.
All the puppets were woodland animals and the kids had so much fun throwing them out the little windows to see which ones drop the fastest. I mean, they loved putting on puppet shows for their mommy.

And at the end, we even built our own pyramid just to bring the whole thing back around to repetitious education.

Belated Bunny

2009-11-10T20:02:00.004-06:00

Because some things are just too cute not to post...

Bashful Bunny

Bye Bye Bunny

Do y'all see that wrinkled up nose?
Boisterous Bunny

Baby Bunny

Because Sometimes if I Take a Picture of It, I Can See it.

2009-11-08T23:45:00.011-06:00

This sorry excuse for the surface of a counter has been accumulating for over a month.

Like I was telling you a few days ago, October was just one of those Mammoth Months. In which I run from here to there and do this thing and that whereby neglecting most household chores and rapidly lose geography in my kitchen. The counter top in my kitchen is a fairly accurate barometer of the chaos level in my house. Do you have one of those places? Where everything gets dumped? Really important bills you put on top get piled over and lost when the American Girl catalog comes in the mail? And various hair things, bath towels, and Lowe's purchases all get clumped together in the "Deal with this SOON" category? I wish my dump spot was not in such an obvious location. I've actually tried (on several occasions) to move it to hutch in the dining room. The pile will hear nothing of being demoted out of it's prestigious position in the heart of the family and quite vigorously reappears right back next to the toaster oven.

Let's look a little closer, shall we?
Starting on the far right, is a pile of things to return to my mother. A bath towel which I borrowed (without asking) one day when I was transporting something messy from her house to mine. I can't remember what was being transported which gives some clue as to how long ago I secretly took it. Also in the pile, is a simple ice cream bucket. Were y'all aware they were making those buckets square nowadays? Anyway, if the bucket belonged to me, I would simply put it in the recycling bin. But my dear, sainted mother loves those plastic buckets, and uses and reuses and reuses them. So I want to give it back to her instead of to the recycle guy. And within the bucket is her apple peeler/corer/slicer which I borrowed (with permission) to make applesauce (3 weeks ago).

Next to that are a card (from a dear friend) and a photo (love you, CW) that Lydia nabbed off the refrigerator, and instead of simply reapplying them with magnets, I put them here. To wait. Apparently for a better time to use a magnetism. (Who DOES stuff like that?!) Then we have our Verse of the Day Cards, which are becoming more like "Verse of Every Other Month" cards. A headband that matches a dress Lydia outgrew this summer and a string of pearls I wore to church in September. If you look hard, you can barely see the edge of our fancy label machine, and extra cartridge. I love that thing! (And you can tell I use it to keep my life perfectly organized). And everybody needs a Ziploc bag of plastic spoons to top off the pile. Another sad commentary is that the usual home of the spoons is the cabinet directly above their current position. They are literally 15 inches from where they are supposed to be.

You can quit now.

I know this is rightfully the stupidest blog post someone has ever written. I'm obviously doing this as some form of weird catharsis. But, seriously, acknowledging my own cluttered-ness for all the world to see is sort of like the Jerry Springer of the blog world. Who wants to know this? Why am I putting my business up here?! So Narcissistic! It's ridiculous and on some level so very immature.

I will finish but, please, you can go on to the next blog in your roll. I can finish this one up all alone.

Here comes the sticky part.

Especially sticky because I'm sure the counter was not clean when this pile of paper was started. But while I'm working out my business here, we'll just start from the bottom.

manuals for the Flashmaster (if you homeschool you might NEED one)
composition notebook for Making Room for Life book club (what irony is that)
Pad of paper on which I make plans for the day
Red notebook of songs for the Women's Retreat (17 days ago)
Bible :( I do have another one that I use daily, but this one really shouldn't be here
Clipboard with Claire's schoolwork still attached from the day I taught while cooking
CD cases (who knows!)
Kids craft papers
Map (not really, but that's what the boys call it when they roll up any piece of paper and put a rubber band around it)

Yuck, y'all. Why do I do this to myself? But let me get it all over and done with. It's sort of like vomit. Don't stop till you're done or you're just gonna do it again. Here goes.

That's the bag of toiletries I took to the retreat that was 17 days ago. Good thing I have extra deodorant and toothbrushes upstairs, because who knows how long it would have taken me to find these! And that little spray can with the orange top is orange hair spray I bought for the kids. None of them needed it for their Halloween costumes, I just wanted them to experience orange hair. But we haven't done it yet, much to their disdain.

Then, in the coveted On-Top-of-the-Toaster-Oven spot, we have a pile of recipes.

The one on top I made just over a week ago. My friend, Cathy in TX gave me the recipe and it is YUMMY!

All the recipes underneath it, are simply there because when I reached for the recipe out of the cabinet, I just pulled down the whole stack. I know, that's very wrong. And I shan't do it again.

Hi Mom! Hi Mother-in-Law! I'm sure you two are the only ones who actually made it all the way down here. And I would just like to say, yesterday, I cleaned off my counter. All of it. Except the orange hairspray.

Not to be Outdone by Her Older Siblings

2009-11-06T21:44:00.002-06:00

One for the money...

Two for the show....

Three to get ready....

And Four to go!

That's my girl! I love who she is!

LifeSavers: Please Pray for Mark's Mom

2009-11-02T08:08:00.003-06:00

Hello again internet friends. Please pray for Mark's mom, Karen, today. And every day for the next six weeks!

She's having surgery on her knee again today and will continue to recover from infection for at least the next 6 weeks. Please pray specifically that the infection would be completely eradicated from her body. That her body would be restored to health. And that surgery and the recovery from surgery would be without incident.

Not every woman is blessed to have a Mother-in-Law who is supportive and unconditionally loving. So a brief word to those that are Mother-in-Laws who read this blog, be like Mark's mom. Know that your son's daughter doesn't need fashion advice, or tips on parenting, or career motivational discussions. She needs your love, your cheerleading, and your presence in the lives of her children. I didn't know that's what I needed until it was given to me. But, I'm so thankful for who she is in our family. One of the best parts of moving back to the Middle of Nowhere 2 years ago, has been her availability in our lives. She's quick to lend a hand when we're in crisis or offer babysitting for date nights. The past month, as we've been fighting illness in our family and she's been fighting infection in her knee, has felt very disjointed because we've haven't been around Grandma Karen.

Mom/Grandma, know that you're in our prayers today and we're gathering up as many prayers for you as we can. We love you and can't wait to see you back running errands and bringing lunch and cleaning out the toaster oven. Ok, just kidding on that last one. :)

Blast from the Past: Timing is everything

2009-11-01T22:30:00.006-06:00

One year ago today I took this picture.

But how I took this picture is what I'm gonna tell you about. I took an antique chair that I got for $7.50 at a sale and I put it out on my lawn and let my daughter do her thing. This time I didn't call her name or make funny noises to capture an expression or a twinkle in the eye. I just wanted realness. I love that the toes of her shoes are wet from the grass. I love the coolness of the color. We were in complete shade and I didn't take any measures to warm it up. It's one of my favorite photos of Lydia's Age 1 portfolio.

Then I took this one because I wanted to capture that curl. The one right there at the base of her head. It made her hair turn to the left side. My mom tells me she has the same trait. Again, I love the realness of it. And you can see we moved locations and the sun was peaking out around a cloud. Totally changed the feel of the photo.

Which do you like?

I Forgot to Tell You

2009-10-29T22:52:00.002-05:00

In an effort to make all (2) of this week's blog posts completely about me, I wanted to tell you what Mark got me for my birthday. Which was over 2 months ago. I'm a little behind in the blogosphere.

I'll give you some hints.

1. It came in a box.

2. Packed in dry ice

3. From the Cheesecake Factory (you should be really close to an answer by now)

If your name is not Gretchen, you may try to guess what flavor it was. A prize may or may not be given to all the lucky winners.

Not just any kind of husband orders (read: pays for) cheesecake to sit on your porch in a box all day in the middle of August. Not just any kind of husband listens to and acts upon all the hints a woman drops about not really liking regular cake. I think it may be one of my most favorite birthday presents yet!

Thank you, Mark. I love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(We froze some and I even shared a piece with him this week. Yes, I know, that is sacrifical love defined.)

If You Stopped By and We Chatted for a While

2009-10-28T21:38:00.010-05:00

So? What's going on with you?! It's been FOREVER since we talked. Tell me about you. Really. What have you been up to? Read anything good lately? How are the kids? Anything new with your job? Going anywhere fun soon? Do you guys celebrate Halloween or not? Planning to spend Thanksgiving out of town this year? How are your parents? Please, tell them I said 'Hi', and that I think of them far more often than you would think that I think of them. It's crazy, but I do. Oh, look at the time. I've gotta go. But it's been so good talking with you. We've got to do this again soon! Love you! Bye!

And I would say:
I've been busy with life and I'm ready to slow down a little bit.

Schooling the kids, starting a new Small Group, coordinating a Home school Co-op, led worship for a Women's Retreat, birthday parties. I've been busy. But I'm ready to be done being busy. Thanks for asking.

I've read two books this month, and am still reading 3 more. Novels I always finish in less than 3 days, because I LOVE STORIES. The self help/self improvement/manuals for living books take me much longer. If they would just put symbolism and plot and character development in those kind of books, I'd read them much faster. That'll be my goal. To write a book that people want to read because the story is so very interesting, but will change their lives because it's also so insightful. I'll put that on my list for 2019.

The kids have survived a round of the flu. Seriously people. The flu is not that bad. People have been getting sick since the Fall of Man. This is not the Black Plague, the Bubonic Plague or even the White Death. This is fever for a week, a lot of congestive nastiness, feeling totally yucky, a vaporizer, tylenol, family movies in the morning, books read out loud, multiple naps a day, runny noses, nighttime coughs and time. Now, if your family has different symptoms than that, I'm sorry for you. But for us, it was just regular old flu. Type A, Type 89, Type H1N1 or Type DOES IT REALLY MATTER??!! Call it what you will. They were sick. And I'm thanking God they are better.

My job had me stressed out this month. Doing my job doesn't stress me. I love taking photos. I love getting to know families by spending a couple hours with them. I didn't like that I tried to do it too much this month. I don't like who I am when I'm stressed out. I'm not the Fun Girl when I'm stressed. Therefore, I'm cutting back in the job area. I mean, who really needs to get paid anyway, when there's all this other really important hard stuff I can do and not get paid at all? I've got children to love, and meals to cook, and laundry to fold, and friends to make, and tea to sip, and phone calls to friends in other states to return. Now, if someone would just pay me for the really important things in life, THAT would be fun.

No plans for travel until January. When I'm really really trying to make it to Gretchen's next birth. I'm hoping, and praying and trying to be there. We'll see.....

Actually, I'm going on a Homeschool field trip tomorrow to the Putnam Museum. We've been studying Ancient Egypt and learning about Mummies. So I co-ordinated our first official Homeschool Field trip with the Knox Area Home School Co-op for tomorrow. We're really looking forward to it. They have a REAL mummy up there!

We dress up in costumes for Halloween and go get candy. Nothing scary. Nothing evil. Nothing gross. No talking about dead people or things. No boogy monsters. No skeletons. No severed body parts. Just costumes and candy.

Thanksgiving plans are going to be around here with one side of the extended family or the other. But I'm really hoping to invite some people who don't have family in the area to join our extended family for Thanksgiving. Granted, I don't know those people yet. But I'm planning to make some new friends in the next 29 days, so they can come to Thanksgiving with us. It's been too long since we've had guests at Thanksgiving and I miss it.

My parents are well. My Mom and Dad have been busy busy busy helping their children renovate houses for the past year or so. And they made tons of apple cider, apple butter and other yummy things to sell at the local Scenic Drive Festival. A girl couldn't hope for better parents than mine. I treasure them.

I'm so glad we finally got to catch up! This has been so fun! I've missed you more than you know. I promise it won't be so long next time. Touch base with me on Facebook. Those one-liner status updates were all I could manage this month. But I'm looking forward to being right back here in all my verbose-ness. Seriously, thanks for stopping by.

Bye!

Food, Clothing, Shelter: Clothing

2009-09-21T20:20:00.009-05:00

I care. I really care. Perhaps I care too much. Perhaps I only care sometimes. But I care about clothes.

I like clothes.

I like different clothes. I like old clothes and new clothes. I grew up in thrift stores. I can honestly say my first pair of new jeans was when I was 23 years old and pregnant with my first child. I couldn't find any maternity jeans at the thrift stores. So I broke down and bought my first pair of jeans that cost over $4.99. I will remember that day for all my life. And I remember wearing them for the first time to a baby shower at Ginger's house. Ginger, who's shower was that? At your house. Early spring 2001? Any ideas? I think there were only 13 of us pregnant at the time.

Anyway, I like clothes. I really like clothes that are made really well, and will last really long, but are really, really cheap. When Claire was tiny, the babyGap in Dallas used to markdown their sale clothes to $1.99. Some friends and I made a schedule so someone would be there every day the week they were to do markdowns. And then we'd start a phone tree when it actually happened.

I realize this borders on pathetic and super-materialistic. So I'm going to show in the following pictures how far I've come from brand spanken new maternity jeans and a babyGap wardrobe for my kids.

Exhibit A.
This is what I, personally, have always referred to as the "White Trash Baby" Look. I know, it's an ugly term. But what else do you call it?! You just can't say anything nice about the saggy-dirt-stained-diaper-as-pants Look.

But this is all my daughter wore for about a day. The day after the Thunderstorm That Awoke the Dead but Not Mark, I kept putting pants on her, but they kept getting muddy, so I'd take them off and go search for another pair. Until we ran out of dry pants. So I hung them on the line to dry and then get this! Then, I put them back on her--dirty. Dry, but mud-caked.

Speaking of mud-caked. I'd like to introduce you to my son, Luke.
We did enforce that our children showered every night before bed. But this photo was taken right before we all got in the truck to come home. So it didn't even take a full day for him to get dirty.

Another thing we wore a lot were life jackets.

They didn't bother most of us. In fact, it became like second skin. With all the paddleboating and canoeing we did the kids became quite attached to them.

Except one child.

No, I'm kidding. She didn't mind the life jacket, but she didn't realize I was staying on the bank for this little excursion. And when she figured out I wasn't hopping on board, the floodgates opened.
This is her on the brink of the realization. Can you sense it? The trepidatious gaze? The "What are you doing, Mommy- Why aren't you putting your life jacket on?" wondering.
About breaks a Mommy's heart.

On to happier subjects.

Crocs.

Can't say that I've ever joined the craze, but my kids love them. And for camping trips, really there's nothing better to be wearing.
But what do you do when your Croc malfunctions during a seriously adventurous stunt with your Mom's zoom lens watching from 100 ft away.

What do you do?!!

You just finish your stunt. Pretending that the strap never broke. In fact, you enter complete denial that you have a broken shoe and you continue to wear it for over a month. Your mother asks on NUMEROUS occasions if we can cut the broken strap off of your shoe. But you insist, "No. I like it this way."

Only my son. He understands that sometimes you just care about shoes. And it's okay if nobody else does.

Food, Clothing, Shelter: Food

2009-09-19T15:08:00.007-05:00

One time, many many many moons ago we went camping with our good friends G&E. We lived in Illinois, they lived in Texas and we were going to meet half way between in Missouri for a fun weekend of camping. G and I were both 23 and had each already been married 4 years and had no children. And we're still married to those same guys now! I know! Pretty cool, huh? (That has nothing to do with the story, I just wanted to shock and amaze you.)

So G and I gabbed on the phone for hours about what we were going to do and what we were going to eat and how long it'd take for each of us to get there and what we were going to eat and who was bringing the bug spray and what we were going to eat.

Food, when camping, is a central element. Not unlike the nucleus in a cell. It holds everything together. Ok, that's all I know about chemistry, er, I mean biology. Anyway, we had glorious plans for food. We brought umpteen different pots and pans and spatulas and spices. Boy, did we eat grand. Breakfast went on for hours. Eggs, bacon, toast, jelly, yogurt, cheese, coffee, juice. For lunch it was like a smorgasbord of meats and cheeses, breads and chips, fruit, veggies with dip. And then would come dinner. We didn't eat hotdogs warmed up on a stick over a fire. Oh no, we had steaks from Mark's parent's farm, baked potatos, vegetables steamed to al dente. My mouth is watering.

But, here's the thing. The point. Way back then with all the acoutraments of fancy food, we still topped it all off with this.

S'mores.

Becasue, s'mores, my friends are one of the best parts of camping.

And now that I've been married 13 years, and have 4 exciting kids, we're pretty much warming hotdogs over a fire.

But get this, the kid's love it!

And lunch is like a granola bar and an apple. Perhaps a cheese stick thrown in for the dairy food group.

But back to the S'mores. Because this is serious stuff. Takes concentration and serious watching.

Because you don't want blackened marshmallows.

Unless of course you want blackened marshmallows. Evidently some people like 'em.

And then some people don't care if the marshmallows are cooked or not.

Food, Clothing, Shelter: Shelter First

2009-09-17T17:53:00.007-05:00

My husband is not that into Birthday presents, Christmas presents, Mother's Day presents, Father's Day presents, Valentine's presents (are you sensing a theme here?). He's just not very interested in giving or receiving them. So after our first Christmas together, I made it ABUNDANTLY clear that I did not want a) cereal or b) appliances for gifts.

Those are things a person needs, but not things that a person should have to redeem as presents from those they love. It's truly amazing how his gift-giving has evolved and these days he often surprises me with gifts that a girl would actually want!

But, he's still not into receiving gifts. He doesn't know what he wants, he doesn't want to put people out, he doesn't need much celebrating or doodads to feel loved and appreciated. After our first Christmas together, he made it ABUNDANTLY clear that I could skip a) fancy clothes b) sentimental picture frames and c) cologne.

So my gift giving has evolved as well. Now I buy him things our family could use and present them to him on his birthday with a bow on top for the kids to pull off.

Exhibit A

Last year for his birthday Mark received a tent. :) This was our first chance to use it.

And really, even though you'll see a lot of RV's in the background of the next few posts, don't feel sorry for us. We were fine in our new tent. Just the 6 of us. Huddled under a grove of trees. During a a very windy thunderstorm. But that's for another post.

So here's the gang trying to put up a tent.

Without looking at the directions. Of course. Who needs 'em?!

Looks like Caleb's hoping someone is going to figure it out soon.

But Luke has discovered the pole job is definitely the funnest.

Here, Claire is trying to get the boys to help her, but not actually participate in putting the poles through the sleeve. The person who stands on the other end pulling the sleeve taught is definitely in an inferior position. Nobody wants that job.

Lydia ran circles around everybody trying to help with something. She'd pull on the wall, till someone shouted, "Lydia, no". Then she'd run around and mess with the zippers till someone shouted, "Lydia, no." Then she'd move on to trying to pull out a pole someone had just put in, until someone shouted ...well you get the picture.

Finally there was something Lydia could help with. Pulling the rain fly tight and putting in stakes. Now here's a job that' s right down at her level.

And I will stop the commentary here and just let you enjoy how that went.

A Camping We Went

2009-09-16T23:51:00.003-05:00

Last month we went camping. We LOVE camping, but hadn't been since the twins were 2! This week I will show you just how fun it was. With daily (probably not, but here's to hoping) samplings of the 392 pictures I took in 3 days.

All great Robinson Family Adventures start with chaos. This trip was no different. Mark packed our Suburban in the POURING DOWN RAIN. Some would say that's not the smartest way to start a camping trip... but pack us he did. As a woman who values sacrifice and people who do hard things to bless other people, I was watching out my kitchen window falling more in love with every huge raindrop that fell on his head. (dramatic swoon)

By the time everything was packed, the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle, and with the help of the exposure meter on my camera it looks almost sunny outside.

We were packed pretty tight.

Really tight.

God truly showed his vast mercy to us that day, for when we arrived at our camping spot, the rain had ended and there were, indeed, sunny skies.

To be continued . . .

Looks like This

2009-08-04T11:08:00.003-05:00

Do y'all get looks like this?

Looks from your dirt-clad, brow-furled, curly-headed, mosquito-bitten, forehead-scarred Son that say, "Momma, why are you taking my picture when I'm trying to tattle-tell on my brother? Why must you sit out here with us and see all that's going on, so I can't embellish my side of the story? Why are you so loud? And weird? And when are you going to start acting like a grown-up instead of an over-grown kid?"

Do you get those looks? I get them. A. Lot.

Innocent and Guilty

2009-08-03T15:20:00.003-05:00

I love this photo. She's not looking at the camera, but the hint of a profile speaks to the fact that something has caught her attention.

Hmmm.... What is it? An airplane? Her big sister climbing a tree? A monkey? The twins jumping in a swimming pool?

It's the bag of popcorn, 'PopPop' as Lydia calls it, that was once stashed behind her head. But now has been happily procured by the 1 year old.

Apparently the tray-full she had access to was not nearly enough.

Oh, the poor child just can't scrape enough food to eat. She must resort to self-collection methods.

The name of this photo is "Innocent and Guilty".

Just Another Adorable Kid

2009-07-15T13:29:00.002-05:00

She's just adorable.

Fiesty and adorable. Clever and adorable.

Sweet and adorable.

Charming and adorable.

Adorable.