In no particular order...
27. I can't do everything.
26. When I say "no" I am not being an evil dictator, I am being a firm and loving mother who wants to bring my children up to be a blessing to others.
25. I can't please everyone. The sooner I accept this, the better.
24. Life is crazy, get used to it.
23. Don't take anything personally.
22. There's nothing sweeter than holding my newborn baby or kissing my child's cheeks or feeling my child's arms around my neck.
21. Motherhood is good and hard and yes it can be a little ugly at times.
20. It's ok to step outside for a 'breather'.
19. Ask for Forgiveness.
18. Love him.
17. Love them.
16. Do not compare. Ever.
15. It takes a whole village to raise children. Accept help when it's offered.
14. Choose the important battles.
13. Humility and Love avoid many conflicts. Discipline works, too.
12. Taking a break or sitting down for awhile is not being lazy.
11. Consistent is one of the hardest things to be.
10. Clean the house to stay healthy. Nothing more.
9. Any project that I may undertake will take 3 times longer than I expect it to.
8. There are no shortage of hugs available.
7. Most of the time, there is someone crying. If someone is not crying, then someone is being silly and about to get hurt and cry.
6. I am thankful for my faithful servants: the washing machine, the dishwasher, the hot water heater, the furnace, the dryer, the electric lights, running water, the internet, and the van. My life is insanely easier than it could be.
5. Be thankful for laundry and dishes. It simply means we have clothes to wear and food to eat.
4. Teaching my kids to clean up after themselves will keep me sane.
3. There is no such thing as a 'normal' or a 'typical' day.
2. Don't hurry and don't worry.
1. Have a sense of humor.
Saturday, 28 April 2012
Wednesday, 25 April 2012
Saturday, 21 April 2012
Hudson: A Musical
Hudson is a master at baby facial expressions. Here he demonstrates this ability among others...
Thursday, 19 April 2012
Dance Away
Some friends of ours put on a dance to raise money for coffee farmers in Burundi.
Here is a taste of that fine evening:
Monday, 16 April 2012
The Man With The Big Axe
About a month ago we went to visit some good friends. We had a wonderful time together, hiking and talking. Letting the kids hang out together.
One of the highlights was Joshua learning to ride a bike, which I've blogged about.
During this visit, we met Paul (in case you don't know yet, I have a thing for statues):
Only Josh was brave enough to stand next to me. The other kids hid out in the van...
Unfortunately this particular Mr. Bunyan was unable to locate his blue friend. Although there was a Tiger Muskie not too far off...
Friday, 13 April 2012
Wednesday, 11 April 2012
A New Normal...
My New 'Normal'
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family’s life.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like she is my baby’s age. And then thinking of the age she would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is telling the story of your child’s death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone’s eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my “normal”.
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child’s memory and her birthday and survive these days.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special that my daughter would have loved, but how she is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my child.
Normal is making sure that others remember her.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you – it doesn’t compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unbelievable.
Normal is trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of their child.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have four children or three, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have three children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become “normal” for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are “normal”.
-Author Unknown
A friend posted this on her blog. A lot of what the Unknown Author writes about I can relate to, but not all do I necessarily agree with. I know Emily is in heaven, and I know all things will be restored, made new, tears wiped away when Jesus returns- hence I will get over the loss someday.
Joel and I are learning and relearning that "normal" is very relative. So much happens that everyone is constantly adjusting. It doesn't take a big event (ie: loss, diagnosis, new child) to throw our old normal out the window. Usually it's just the mundane things- like a child eating 3-4 times more than usual because of a growth spurt, or a wave of sickness hits the house, or getting to bed late too many days in a row, I could go on and on. And all these things happen one after the other. That's the part I can't get over: Our family is in the middle of dealing with one episode of Something and then Another Thing comes along and we need to deal with that and then look out! Here come Something Unexpected and then Not That Again in the same week. It's a whirlwind. And through all of it there are the daily chores we all need to keep up on. Whew! It's so very easy to get caught up in this whirlwind. And then get irritable about it. It doesn't take much for me these days. Last weekend I pretty much had a permanent look of exasperation on my face.
Doesn't God say, 'Children do not exasperate your parents or they will become discouraged?'
Um, no. It doesn't. I think what God says is, "Rejoice always, pray continually, in everything give thanks for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."
Seems impossible, Lord.
"With God, nothing is impossible."
"The fruit of the Spirit (italics mine) is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control."
Oh, humility. Where art thou? Thou art shy and fleeting, yet without you, I cannot walk in the Spirit.
May we all find this humility that Christ spoke of.
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family’s life.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like she is my baby’s age. And then thinking of the age she would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is telling the story of your child’s death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone’s eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my “normal”.
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child’s memory and her birthday and survive these days.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special that my daughter would have loved, but how she is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my child.
Normal is making sure that others remember her.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you – it doesn’t compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unbelievable.
Normal is trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of their child.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have four children or three, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have three children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become “normal” for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are “normal”.
-Author Unknown
A friend posted this on her blog. A lot of what the Unknown Author writes about I can relate to, but not all do I necessarily agree with. I know Emily is in heaven, and I know all things will be restored, made new, tears wiped away when Jesus returns- hence I will get over the loss someday.
Joel and I are learning and relearning that "normal" is very relative. So much happens that everyone is constantly adjusting. It doesn't take a big event (ie: loss, diagnosis, new child) to throw our old normal out the window. Usually it's just the mundane things- like a child eating 3-4 times more than usual because of a growth spurt, or a wave of sickness hits the house, or getting to bed late too many days in a row, I could go on and on. And all these things happen one after the other. That's the part I can't get over: Our family is in the middle of dealing with one episode of Something and then Another Thing comes along and we need to deal with that and then look out! Here come Something Unexpected and then Not That Again in the same week. It's a whirlwind. And through all of it there are the daily chores we all need to keep up on. Whew! It's so very easy to get caught up in this whirlwind. And then get irritable about it. It doesn't take much for me these days. Last weekend I pretty much had a permanent look of exasperation on my face.
Doesn't God say, 'Children do not exasperate your parents or they will become discouraged?'
Um, no. It doesn't. I think what God says is, "Rejoice always, pray continually, in everything give thanks for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."
Seems impossible, Lord.
"With God, nothing is impossible."
"The fruit of the Spirit (italics mine) is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control."
Oh, humility. Where art thou? Thou art shy and fleeting, yet without you, I cannot walk in the Spirit.
May we all find this humility that Christ spoke of.
"Have this mind in you, which was also in Christ Jesus:
who, existing in the form of God,
counted not the being on an equality with God a thing to be grasped,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a servant,
being made in the likeness of men;
and being found in fashion as a man,
he humbled himself, becoming obedient even unto death,
yea, the death of the cross.
Wherefore also God highly exalted him,
and gave unto him the name which is above every name;
that in the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
of things in heaven and things on earth and things under the earth,
and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father."
Saturday, 7 April 2012
Thursday, 5 April 2012
Balloon Sunday
Scene: The Road To Jerusalem
Time frame: 2,000 years ago
Event: Palm Sunday
Characters:
Crowds- Daddy, Joshua, Rachel, Madelynn, Hudson
Jesus: Joshua, Rachel, Madelynn
Donkey: Mommy
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
He Heals All Our Diseases...
What do you do with a verse (see title) like that?
Why does our seven year old boy need to live with this consuming, painful, expensive, wasteful disease?
Why should our little boy need a man-made pancreas?
(The box above contains Joshua's new insulin pump.)
Or why does our little girl need to deal with a disease that separates her from everyone else?
(Yes that photo above has two toasters. One's Gluten Free, the other is gluten.)
How do you explain to your baby that she will never go outside, why she has tubes down her throat 24/7, needs a machine to breathe for her and is constantly being poked and beeped at?
And then she leaves before we say goodbye.
And yet through all of this darkness
there is love...
And spring times...
The Lord is my strength.
And the Lord shines through Joel like a beacon, like a lighthouse.
I am so thankful for them both.
Monday, 2 April 2012
All Good
The Big Day is wrapping up:
Blood platelets are in the normal range. Joshua no longer has ITP! (hip hip hooray!)
Joshua was brave and now has the insulin pump. Thus begins another adventure...
Rachel and Madelynn and Hudson had a good time at their respective babysitters. :)
And now, as I type this, a dear friend is being rushed to the hospital via ambulance with a possible stroke.
Lord, have mercy on us.
Blood platelets are in the normal range. Joshua no longer has ITP! (hip hip hooray!)
Joshua was brave and now has the insulin pump. Thus begins another adventure...
Rachel and Madelynn and Hudson had a good time at their respective babysitters. :)
And now, as I type this, a dear friend is being rushed to the hospital via ambulance with a possible stroke.
Lord, have mercy on us.
Big Day
Today we embark on yet another day of doctor's appointments.
Today Joshua is tested one last (we hope!) time concerning his blood platelets. If they number in the normal range - Josh will officially not have ITP anymore.
Today Joshua, Mommy and Daddy get trained in to use an insulin pump. He actually gets hooked up to it today, which he is (a little) nervous about.
Thank you to those who are watching our other children-we so appreciate it!!!!
Today Joshua is tested one last (we hope!) time concerning his blood platelets. If they number in the normal range - Josh will officially not have ITP anymore.
Today Joshua, Mommy and Daddy get trained in to use an insulin pump. He actually gets hooked up to it today, which he is (a little) nervous about.
Thank you to those who are watching our other children-we so appreciate it!!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)