"In the meantime we'll be working with j-o-o-o-y..."

So. 2 more days until due date.

Who knows how many more days until deliverance!!??!

I am up to much randomness these days as I wait. I haven't really noticed a pattern to my work habits or my thought patterns except that they are both subject to change quite quickly for little or no apparent reason at all.

Last night I was laying in bed awake. I was having at least a partial pity party for myself. Lucky husband was sleeping deeply, snoring lightly. I was uncomfortable. Restless. Sweating for no good reason. My handstitched pillow cover caught my attention. Handstitched by my sweet Gramma Lehman. It used to be her tradition to give each of her many grandchildren a set of cross stitched pillow cases as a wedding present.

I'm not sure if she is even able to do cross stitch anymore. Anyway, my mind was turned toward her. A small framed woman, at least 2 inches shorter than me. She did this 13 times. I wondered how many restless nights she must've spent, aching all over. She probably worked much harder than what I do. She probably endured many trying circumstances. No air conditioner. Were any of her babies born in the middle of the hot summer? No running water. How many trips did she make to the out house in those last weeks (x13)!?!? I somehow never thought of my grandmother in these terms before. It would be fun to ask her about some of these important details.

A perk of nesting is that I begin to straighten out a few corners that have been needing attention for a long time. Well. This really isn't a corner. It was like an entire messy front porch and a displaced wooden shelf.

This shelf and I have some history. Although I am in love with the idea of this rustic shelf and have put too much of my time into restoring it, I'm not really all that cranked over the idea of this particular shelf on my current front porch. In my mind, it belongs on the front porch of an old cabin or restored old mansion surrounded by trees. Almost anywhere besides on the porch of a very vanilla white town house.

I have offered to give it to a few friends, all of which aren't ready for it yet. Either the house is still in blue print form or the wrap around porch needs to be reconstructed or she isn't quite sure it goes with her house or something like that. In the meantime I have the shelf sitting on my front porch, looking a bit displaced. I also have shoes strewn all over my front porch. And I want things to be attractive and orderly for this baby. I mean, cluttered surroundings surely could affect the behavior of a baby, I am sure!

*aha* idea pops into my head. What if I would lay this shelf down on it's side and use it as shoe storage. The shelves could be little cubby hole spaces. Heave-ho......

Hmmm. It's functional. And it was fun arranging a few decorations on the top. I thought I actually liked it better than what I do now that I've looked at the pictures and realized just how silly that one open end looks. Maybe I'll enclose it someday. Probably not though, just because I do not usually totally finish a project.

I love this wreath that my talented friend, Rosanne made for me. I think it goes well with the shelf on the floor right by the front door. I like the way the burlap kind of pulls the two things together. I also LOVE the burnt yellow color of the flowers!!! It's so fun to have handmade gifts from friends around my house....makes me smile with pleasure to be reminded often throughout the day of my lovely friends.

I have another project cooking with this fabric. These colors make me very happy. I'll post a picture later of this project. That is, if I ever get it done. And if I am happy with the finished project.

And now I'm off to make the sewing machine hum....

P.S.
I am deeply disturbed by the fact that I cannot get spell check to work and that blogger is just being a real pain the 'you know what' right now. #100%uncooperative

14 days

My history includes delivering anywhere from 2 weeks early to 11 days late. I just entered the "could-deliver-anytime-phase". Unfortunately for me, this phase could last for a while. I would be so pleased to deliver earlier rather than later. Fortunately, I have a wonderful midwife, whom I love dearly, who wouldn't even consider jump starting labor for me. So, there's no hope of an early delivery unless my body and baby together decide that they've had enough of this.

This summer has been insanely busy for our family. I felt like I had very little time to sit around dreaming sweet baby dreams, considering names, stock piling baby treasures or worrying about all the 'what if's'. This pregnancy has simply gone by almost in the blink of an eye.

The one and only thing that I did do that turned my mind and hands toward my baby during this pregnancy was that I revived an old love for crocheting. My mom taught me to crochet and knit back when I was probably 10 years old. I remember loving the feel of the yarn in my hands. I remember being so proud of the tacky projects that I completed. But as a teen, my time and energy got swallowed up in youth group, volley ball, school and more socializing. I laid the yarn and needles down and didn't pick them up again for at least 15 years.

This pregnancy awakened something in me and I got the urge to crochet again. I wanted to make something with my hands for this baby. So. I started browsing little hat patterns and looking at all the yarn choices. It didn't take long for me to become an addict. Crocheting become a survival mechanism in the craziness of the past couple of months. I would unwind, late at night, with the yarn and needle. I would stop my other brain processing and think about the little person growing inside.

I've made numerous hats but these are two of my favorites. The striped one is all ready to slip on a robust little man's head and the soft green one with the white flower is ready just in case we happen to be blessed with a tiny little lady of a baby.

Yeah, we still do it the old fashion way....we do not know the sex of our baby. We've waited with all our babies to find out the sex at birth. It's been a really fun part of our experience and so it's hard for us to imagine anything different.

I look at my girly clothes and think about how much I would love to be mommy to another little girl. My girl stash only got used once and that was 9 years ago. Just looking and tenderly touching those delicate pink pieces brings back a rush of memories from when my first and only daughter introduced me to motherhood. Ahhhhh....

 Then I pick up a piece of boy clothing and my heart melts at the thought of another little boy joining our ranks. We could have our own basket ball team. Think of the mountains my guys could climb, the houses they could build, the rivers they could forge. 4 boys. Wow. I wouldn't have to mow the grass again for years.

So. 14 more days until due date. My mind is now swirling with lots of baby thoughts. I'm waiting. I'm anxious. I can't wait to meet this new little person with whom I'm already head over heels in love with.

 I'm recalling the days of sharing pregnancy with this fun bunch of friends in 2010:

It's a bit more lonely this time.

And when I feel like yelling at one of my tribe because they're getting too dirty or making the house dirty or fighting or just getting on my nerves...I try to remember that one day, not that long ago....I was waiting with the same kind of passion to meet each of them.

9 years ago.......it was Angeline Renae

3 years ago it Christopher Melvin

5 and half years ago it was this little sweet stinker who I call Joshua Myron

7 years ago Nicholas Hans filled my arms with all his sweetness

And today, I wait. I hope. I dream. And I use 3 bed pillows plus a body pillow to make it through the night.

Some Days...

...just aren't worth repeating. They are worth remembering though.

There are days that I wish I could preserve in a bubble and replay about 6 times a week. Other days. well. Yesterday was one of those "Other days".

 I preserved some of it through photos. Somehow taking pictures of hairy events helps me to lighten up and it also creates memories out of the most chaotic moments. The memories generally turn hilarious within a few hours. However, there are some photos that still -4 years later - create volatile emotions within me.

So. Yesterday. I took all the kids shopping with me. Yesterday day we had flash flood warnings all day long in our town. Yesterday I made 3 different stops on our shopping jaunt. The rain was coming in torrents each time we made the trek from van to store and store to van. I felt like a wet pregnant rat with 4 cute little rats following me around.

I bought crocs for 4 of them and  teeny diapers and wipes and pacifers for Ittsy. Thankfully,  we only had to take one potty break. We're still alive and none of us had to put any quarters in the cup, so....all things considered it was a successful trip.

Then the sun actually shone for a few precious minutes in the afternoon. The children were all outside playing happily. I was typing my post about the plan for reforming our mouths. It was good to hear the children squealing happily through the open window.

I should have checked on them. I didn't. I assumed that the happy squeals meant all was well. This is what I found about a half hour later.

A flooded garden and 4 Strays engaged in a water/mud battle.

"But Mom.....we're just trying to get all this extra water out of the garden for you!!!!"

So. Instead of packing up some books.....the kids got hosed down, stipped, showered, dressed and banned from the outdoors for the rest of the day.

Then........

Just as I was finishing the post supper clean up and getting ready to head out the door to work at the "other house", I dropped an entired container of applesauce. SPLAT! All over the kitchen floor and stove. Smooth move. And I couldn't even blame it on anyone but myself. A vulgar word slipped from my mouth. And then I laughed, hoping to cover it up. But, my police are sharp little whipper snappers. Another quarter in the cup.

While painting..........baby bump swiped a freshly painted wall. At least it was a pretty yellow color.

Some times it seems the only safe thing to do is to get into bed. I wish I would've thought of that before right now.  I'll tuck that idea in my head for the next time.

Tongue Reform

I didn't really have time to do this project. I didn't have time to skip it either.

The kids have been getting into a whole lot of trouble with their mouths recently. I'm the one who started it.

As the weather grows warmer and the baby gets bigger and  the pressure of moving increases and the sleep decreases.......my own mouth has become more and more comfortable with spouting out frustrations, especially directed toward my children.

The children were startled at first.

Then they got used to it.
"Oh...watch out! Mom is in a bad mood!"

Then they started copying me and my tone and my words. And. I was startled. Horrors. Do I really sound like that!?!?

Of course, I haven't called anyone a "poopy face" and I haven't said " I DON'T like you!!"

I'm more mature than all that.

"You're frustrating me!!!!

"I give up. Just totally give up."

"You NEVER listen to me!"

"I have HAD it! Go tell your dad"

Why do ugly words that kill and destroy come so easily?? This is why I didn't have time to push this little project off for another day. I do not have time to destroy myself and the most precious gift of the people closest to me.

Something had to change. I'm slightly embarrassed that I need this little system to help change my habits.

Here's our lastest scheme for growing in grace together.

A cup plastered with Scriptures concerning the mouth.
A few rules.
A few coins.

The heat is really on me since all 4 kids are allowed to police me. I am the only one who is allowed to penalize the kids because I am just not up to settling fights between them about who heard who saying what.

Each time one of us are caught breaking a rule, the culprit must put a quarter in the cup. The quarter will be coming straight from the culprit's personal piggy bank. (ouch. ouch. for my kids. 25 cents is pretty weighty)

The money collected in the cup will go into the offering.

If you watch the financial reports from Meadville Mennonite Chapel closely you may be able to figure out the sucess of our project.

We have a few coins nestled in the bottom of the cup on Day 2 of our reform.

p.s.

I feel I must add a few public comments to my last post.

First of all, my intention was not to complain or cry for help. I was simply trying to being realistic about what needs to happen in the next several weeks. Lots of people have moved across the continent and lived to tell about it. I'm just moving across the street.

I'm also very blessed to live among a community of believers who practice serving each other in very practical ways.  My husband and I are both from large families who also are willing to extend and stretch their own personal resources on our behalf. I feel gratefully humbled by the offers that have already been extended to us. If I do not have enough help in the next 2 months, it will honestly be my own fault. I'm a proud lady and asking for and receiving help isn't my strength.

On to a slightly different issue:

The gift of this house to us has been an incredible boost to my faith. Sharing about this gift with you and reading your responses has boosted me even further.

The past year it felt like my faith in God's goodness was being tested numerous times. It seemed that so many of my prayers were answered with either silence or a very unmistakable 'no'. I began to doubt God's good intentions toward me and my family. I felt at times that life must just be one big series of deferred hopes and learning to somehow find joy in laying down my desires. Even desires that I felt had been planted in my heart and mind from God himself.

I'm impatient. I'm short-sighted.

I know that God wanted to teach me and grow me through the laying down of desires.

But He also wanted me to know that He is good. Beyond my imagination.

And now He wants me receive His goodness in all its fullness. This new property is a part of that goodness. But there is so much more....

"Many, O Lord my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you; were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many to declare" -Psalm 40:5

The Reason

Here's the reason that I need the next 75 days

We're moving!!! We've talked and prayed about moving for the last year or two. We've looked at different properties around town and even nosed into a few country options. I've poured over real estate magazines and Amos has attended lots of auctions. Nothing seemed to be opening up in our price range that fit our wishes and needs. Besides, we really like it here in our neighborhood and the thought of leaving doesn't excite us.

It's been really neat to look back over the past few years and months and see how God has been orchestrating so many details for us. He is amazing.

The same weekend as our ordination, our elderly neighbor lady's son stopped by and told us that the family had decided that it was time for his mom to make a move to an assisted living facility. Before they put the house on the market he wanted to give us first chance at it. We had been very involved in caring for his mom in the past 9 years and had mentioned to the family that if they ever decide to sell the house, we would possibly have interest in buying it.

This house is just across the street from where we currently live. The main drawing factor for us is the big, beautiful back yard. Not to mention, no adjustments to a new neighborhood.




Taken from the back of the house, looking into the back yard. The white post on the far left marks the property line. The hedge marks our property line on the opposite side. The woods border the backside of our lot.  It's a narrow but deep lot. .

 



Taken from the back yard, looking towards the house.

 This property is really rather unique for a city lot, making it a perfect fit for us. It seems almost too good to be true. We love living in town but as the family grows we've been dreaming of more space for play and work.




What fun.....trees to climb!!!!



I can't say how much I love to see these guys climbing in a tree, especially considering the fact that there is no such thing as a tree to climb in our current yard.

Christopher named this limb "Jordan". It's his imaginary horse.

The one side of this property is bordered by a city park, which is a wooded nature area with a ravine, small stream and trails.  As our children get older it will be almost like an extended playground for them. Of course there is always caution that needs to be exercised in public areas that are secluded.

The house itself  really isn't much of an upgrade for us. It's very comparable to what we're living in now as far as size goes. We feel like there are some good options for adding living space in the future as it is needed.

So. A new house is exciting. But it means lots of work. We are planning to repaint the entire house and either put in new flooring or refinish the existing hardwood. 

Currently were in the shopping and making decisions stage.

In the next week or two comes the hard labor.

Meanwhile, I have a houseful of possessions to deal with........save or throw or sell???!!!???

And we need to get this house in good shape for the buyers. Yup, it's already sold. God is amazing. And we're going to be getting some really amazing new neighbors!!!!

Oh. And meanwhile, we have two lawns to keep looking good.

And we're the family that can hardly find an evening to spend at home to do lawn care.

And did I mention.............that I'm pregnant and ummmm. Slow and bulky and too often grouchy.....

 It really is a fortunate thing that I still have 75 days.

A Letter from Mrs. Thomas

This is a repost with a few edits from 3 years ago when I was 'very great with child'. 



Dear Miss Sleek, Skinny, Pink Camaro,

Good afternoon! I would like to begin this letter by acknowledging the fact that I have felt very honored to be noticed by  you. I realize that I am much bulkier,  a lot more clumsy, and over all, less attractive than  you and  that I am really quite unworthy of your time and attention.  Thank you for not ignoring me all together. Thank you for recognizing me as a fellow comrade. Again. I am honored that you took the time and energy to interact with me in the recent past.

I feel inclined though, at this time to share with you some proper etiquette for relating to folks like myself. Some of the comments that you have made in the past several weeks/months seem to be to be rather thoughtless and even rude at times. I do not doubt your intentions. Really. I believe that the comments have been made out of sincerity mixed with naivety. For this reason I would like to share with you a few tips on what to say or what not to say should you encounter another Mrs. Thomas in the near future. Perhaps this letter will give you some sound advice for processing the advice and comments that other Pink Camaros may throw your way if you should ever find yourself in my current state of being.

To begin with, I wonder if it has ever entered your mind that I do get a fairly decent view of myself at least several times daily as I encounter the mirrors through out my home. I go to great measures to avoid the full length mirrors of this world, but I have found it impossible to stay away from them completely. I mean, try walking into a grocery store. Like it or not, those shiny, sparkling doors hold back no secrets to each and every person that dares to walk through them. All that to say, I am acutely aware of how large I am without you telling me that I look huge.

I would also like to assure you that I do indeed know the exact date of the expected arrival of my baby. It would be just fine with me if you would keep that doubtful look to yourself when I tell you that I have x number of weeks left yet until my due date. Thanks for telling me that I look like I should have had my baby yesterday and that you certainly hope I will have it by tomorrow...even though my due date is still 3 weeks away.

I also find myself wondering how exactly it is that you think you know when my baby has dropped. I tend to believe that I am much more in tune with the position of my baby than what you are. After all, I am the one that has been carrying it for the last 9 + months. It seems really absurd for me to argue with you about whether or not my baby has dropped, especially when I know that I am right. Anyway, thanks for letting me know that I am waddling.

When you ask me if I am carrying twins and I tell you that I am not, once again, it would be more polite for you to believe me than to cast looks of disbelief my way. You would do well to remember that this is my 5th pregnancy. Aside from the fact that women do just tend to get bigger and more stretched out with each baby, I also likely know better than you what it feels like to have a baby growing inside of me by now. I can feel more of my baby's body parts than what I actually wish to feel at times and it is quite obvious to me that there are not multiple baby parts floating around inside of me. Thanks for telling me that you think you would only be half my size if you were me.

I really wondered where you brain was at the other day when you pulled up along the curb, rolled down the window and said, "No baby yet??!!" Especially taking into consideration the fact that I was standing there in broad day light. I can't imagine that you were unable to see the trees growing on my Mount Everest. I hope, I mean, I really hope that after my baby is born that I will be sporting at least a more deflated version of Mount Everest. My advice is simply this: look before you speak. And even better yet, think one moment before you speak.

I also wonder if you think that it is easy for me to forget how uncomfortable I feel. It is a pretty tough thing to get off my mind at this point. It just follows me around everywhere. When you tell me that I look miserable...well...it just confirms to me that I am not doing a very good job of hiding my  aches and pains and emotional instability.

I really hope that you are not feeling too reprimanded at this point of this letter. I would like to again thank you for being a part of my life. The scenarios that I have referenced here in this letter have often brought humor into my days. Laughter is something that I certainly have a lack of right now...so thanks for making me laugh.

This may be hard for you to believe, but at one time in history, I too was a sleek, skinny Camaro. I know that I made many thoughtless comments to others simply out of not knowing what to say when I wanted to show that I really did care. I trust that this letter will aid in future uncomfortable situations. 

I hope to someday soon join you in the fast lane of life again. I hope that my sluggish, swollen brain will regain some speed and wit so that we interact in the fun ways that we used to...instead of you making all the comments and it taking me a week or two to come back with something even half way witty. And even more, I can't wait for the day when you're a Mrs. Thomas and I get to give you all kinds of advice and encouragement.

Respectfully,
Mrs. Thomas the Tank Engine

p.s. This letter is not written to any one person in particular...it is simply  a compilation of some of the conversations that I have encountered with various people throughout my past 5 pregnancies. There are more stories, to be sure, but I think this is enough for one day.


*Please note, I do indeed have more than 3 weeks left until my due date this time. However, I believe that the discomforts of pregnancy affect me earlier with each child. I told my husband just recently that I feel like I should be in my last 3 weeks. Unfortunately, I have 77 days to go yet. Or, actually fortunately for me.....as you'll find out later.