People often tell me they don't know how I do it.....

Often, I don't. At least not well.

Matt is coming home today from a ten day trip. I hate to say this, but it's really not that much different when Matt's gone. I miss him, but it's not like I'm overwhelmed by being alone with the kids. That's how it is most of the time anyway. I cook less when he's gone and have less clean up. The only major difference is Gage. He's different when Matt is gone. It's hard to explain. Part of it is that does things that he would never do if Matt were home. Just as an example, we picked up pizza one night and as I was getting the littles out of the car he grabbed a slice, walked into the living room, and started eating it. He would NEVER do that if Matt was home. We ALWAYS sit at the table and eat as a family. He's never been allowed to eat in the living room. Ever. He talks to the little ones in ways that he wouldn't if Matt were here. Maybe he takes his "man of the house" when dad's not home role a little too seriously. I feel like I've spent the last week being nothing but annoyed and upset with him.

Last night was the tenth night of Matt's absence. The twins are going through a phase where they only want ME to help them with everything. Every time I asked Gage to help me (get their shoes on, unbuckle their seat belt, hold their hand as we left party) they would go into a hysterical fit to the point that Gage literally could not help me. The kids were exhausted from a birthday party we'd been to. I was tired. My hips were hurting and every time I moved it seemed I got a shooting pain down the back of my leg.

I lost it.

As I gave the little three a bath, Gage did not do what I asked of him. When I discovered this, I didn't just get upset-I lost my shit. It was ugly. I was ugly. It wasn't fair to him.

The three littles were waiting in Gracie's bed for me to read books. I stopped outside of her door and began to cry as silently as I could. Moments later Gage walked toward us down the hall saying, "I'm coming to read to you guys, Mom is tired hurting and she needs to go sit down and rest."

He stopped at the door. I told him I was so sorry and I kissed his head. I hugged him for a long time. He cried too, but he told me that it was okay, he knew I was just tired and that he was going to read to the kids.

I let him.

Jay began to whine that he wanted me to read and Gage told him that I needed a break and he would be reading. He didn't just read, he did all the voices and read to them with love. From around the corner I snapped this picture.

Sometimes I have a hard time with Gage. Our personalities do not harmonize.

But he is good. So. Good.

I am thankful for that. For forgiveness. For new days.

Love.

In everything give thanks......

Yesterday, as I glanced through photos on Instagram to catch up on missed costumes, I saw several (and that's not an exaggeration) memes along these lines:

No. Not in this house I may start my Christmas shopping, but Thanksgiving will not be glossed over here. They say a thankful heart is a happy heart, and I'm with them.

Today I share thanks for my husband. A few weeks ago, Matt and I celebrated our fifth anniversary. We were in Santa Barbara for his management meetings, so although we were sans kids, it wasn't the most romantic trip.

In following the traditional gifts, this year was wood. We decided that the house we're building was gift enough to each other and we both got something small in addition.  My gift to Matt was a wooden business-sized card that had my vows imprinted. It was something intended for him to keep in his wallet, but when it arrived, I realized it would be too fragile. It also didn't arrive until  few days after our anniversary. He may have cared that his gift was late and sub-par, but if so, he never let on.

That's one of the ways we maintain a happy marriage. We know there is a season for everything. This is a time for growing our family and building our home. It doesn't leave time, energy, or resources for much else. It means that our anniversary gifts were not extravagant. It means that we're sleep deprived and sometimes barely hanging on. It means that he's working his tail off at work and I'm exhausted just being pregnant with four children. We know that this is a season that will soon pass, and one day this will be something we just get to look back on. I'm grateful for a husband that doesn't care that his anniversary gift was just eh and a few days late. I'm grateful that he loves me good.

For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones. A time to embrace and a time to turn away. A time to search and a time to quit searching. A time to keep and a time to throw away. A time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak. A time to love and a time to hate. A time for war and a time for peace. Ecclesiastes 3: 1-9

This is a season to give thanks.

Love.

Work in progress.....

Looking back at my notes from Phemom on Tuesday I see "Feeling awkward and uncomfortable is an opportunity for growth." Speaks to me.

I HATE to have conversations that make me feel awkward, embarrassed, or uncomfortable. I really hate to have a conversation where I think someone might get upset with me. So I avoid them. Completely. Often times it has come back to haunt me, and yet I continue the pattern. You would think in 34 years I would learn to just face an uncomfortable situation instead of letting time pass and having it fester into something much larger. But I haven't.

Recently, there was something I should have shared with a friend, but I didn't. I wasn't sure how to approach it, I didn't know what to say, and I was afraid of feeling embarrassed when the words came out. So I just didn't say anything and hoped she wouldn't find out. It wasn't because it was something bad, but because if she did, then we might have that awkward conversation. As it often does, that came back to haunt me. Now it seems like I've been hiding some big secret. I could have had a slightly uncomfortable conversation months ago, but instead I avoided it. In the end I had to endure a much more uncomfortable and humbling discussion.

Today I will let myself be comforted by the words from my Phemom notes, "Feeling awkward and uncomfortable is an opportunity for growth." Those were words that God intended for me to hear this week. I HATE to feel like someone is upset with me. My stomach goes into knots and it keeps me up at night. This situation has certainly done that. But I realize this is something I needed to endure in order to grow. This is part of me that I need to work on, but it does not define me. I need to get better about having conversations that I don't want to have. Next time I want to avoid an uncomfortable situation, I hope I remember how much worse it can become when I put it off.

Also at Phemom, we were asked to consider living without expectations of anyone. Then we were challenged to specifically think about one unrealistic expectation we have of a loved one-and let that go. I had to really think. It's not often that someone doesn't meet my expectations because I don't have many expectations of others. I don't get easily disappointed or offended by other people. It's easy for me to find the good and forgive. I was scanning my brain about my expectations of Matt, my friends, my parents, my peers but that wasn't where I found the unrealistic expectation. It was with my child.

I loved school. I loved it so much I chose teaching as a career. It came easily to me and I valued getting good grades. I would have died at the thought of getting answers wrong and someone thinking I was stupid because I didn't have the right answer. Even in college I hated peer editing. I hated the thought of someone thinking I wasn't a good writer or seeing my mistakes. Gage, on the other hand, doesn't seem to care. He rushes through his homework making errors and leaving his paper a mess. He doesn't seem to be bothered if he makes mistakes. He sees his mistakes as just careless errors, not a measure of his intelligence....or worth, the way I did. It has been really hard for me to watch him. Doesn't he love learning? Doesn't he love school? Doesn't he love to get the right answer? Doesn't he feel embarrassed by wrong answers? Doesn't he feel ashamed to turn in messy work? Doesn't he want to be a good student?

Unrealistic expectation of a loved one. I am expecting him to be me. I ask myself, "Doesn't he love learning?" Anyone that has spent any time with Gage knows that he loves to learn and he's not stupid. He asks too many questions not to love learning. He loves school. He is a great reader and he loves books. He is well liked by staff and doesn't get into trouble. His school experience isn't going to look like mine. I have to let go of that expectation. It's not that I'll absolve him of expectations. He'll still be expected to maintain good grades and stay out of trouble, but I can't expect his experience to fit the mold I've created in my head. I can't expect his handwriting to be perfect and his papers without errors. It's something that I've struggled with the last several weeks and I am so grateful for that challenge to let go of my expectations. I can see it from a new perspective. I need to let him be who the Holy Spirit has made him. 

Sometimes in this mom life things get lonely. Little people all day, every day. It's hard to spend time with friends, even those with kids. There are so many nap schedules to follow and snotty noses to avoid. With so many little ones, I don't get to spend as much time with moms of the school age kids. Today I got to catch up with a friend I haven't seen in a long time. She has kids around Gage's age. It was good. So. Good. It was good to talk about parenting the school age child. One of things that I love about this friend is that she isn't afraid to talk about the short-comings of her children and herself. I loved that it wasn't talk about the superficial but about the depths of parenting, such as knowing that our influence is so significant as parents yet so much of what our children choose to do is beyond our control. It was a visit that I didn't want to end and it filled my cup.

I am now 20 weeks (21 tomorrow). Jay often comes over and gives the baby a kiss. Ashlyn thinks everyone has a baby in their belly. Gracie thinks we should name the baby "the new Gracie" if it's a girl. Gage asks a lot of questions.

Jay continues to be "all boy" with his growling and destruction. Ashlyn always out of nowhere says, "I love you so much (Mom, Dad, Gage, Gracie, Jay)" Last week I was asking her to hold my hand as we left the store. She said, "Because if not, I maybe get lost? You won't have me anymore? That would be sad if you don't have me anymore". Her whiny nature gets to her dad, but she cracks me up. Gracie is LOVING preschool at Hands On Discovery. She cries on the days that she doesn't get to go. Last week she came home with a bracelet her classmate had made for her. When Gage found out that this classmate was a boy he was not happy. "What does he like her or something? No. No, not okay. I am NOT okay with this." Then he decided to tell Matt about it at the dinner table, just in case he wasn't aware. Look out little sisters, he's watching. Gage is LOVING flag football. I was selfishly happy he chose that over soccer. I love that my Saturday mornings can still be used to clean the house while Matt takes the kids to the gym.  It's the little things.

The house is still under construction. At this point, I'm just hoping to be in before the baby comes. Pray on that one for us.

I hope to be back soon. With pictures. I took next to none this last month. I'll be better in October. I hope.

Until next time, love.

Why not?

A few months ago Gracie woke up crying in the middle of the night. Along with discovering her bloody nose, I found that I was spotting........I was 8 weeks pregnant. Gracie and I both woke Matt up with our crying.

It couldn't be confirmed right away by ultrasound, but within a week we knew for sure I had miscarried. It was heartbreaking. That baby's due date was my sister's birthday and I was excited to tell her.....a miscarriage isn't as simple as I had somehow thought (one reason I'm sharing)......I had gotten my hopes up at one point that maybe everything was fine.......I wasn't sure how Matty would feel about the loss or how he'd feel about trying again.......I wasn't sure if it was a sign that I shouldn't have another. I mean, that baby was the one I had JUST thanked God for trusting me with. Could I not be trusted with another?

Then I struggled a little with what to do next. Should I tell my mom? Should I call my sister?  They didn't even know I was pregnant.

I didn't. I didn't call anyone else either. Cowardly, I just didn't want to have anyone tell me that it was a sign. I didn't want to hear that maybe it was because we're not supposed to have another one. I didn't want to hear that we're crazy for wanting another one or that five children is just too many. I didn't want anyone to tell me that we're fortunate to have four healthy children and maybe we should just be content with what we have. We already are.

It's ridiculous that at thirty four years old I still can't handle having people think I'm making a poor decision. That's a story for another day.

Looking back, I wish I would have just shared the pregnancy when we found out. Sure, I would have then had to tell everyone about the miscarriage, but I think it would have been better somehow. Then I could have had the love and support of friends instead of feeling like I was hiding some type of secret. 

Months later, I was still afraid, so I waited to share again. But it's time to tell you-we're expecting in February!! If you've seen me in the last few weeks you might have been suspicious. Apparently with Baby #5 your belly just rolls out the red carpet of space for them to grow. This is the first time we've waited this long to tell anyone. That's what miscarriage does. But that's also why I'm sharing the story now. I would encourage others not to wait to share the joy of pregnancy. Loss can occur at anytime and you could use the love and support no matter when it happens.

I know that nearly everyone thinks we're crazy. One of my best friends has told me many times that five is too many. She's allowed to say that-she has five. She knows it isn't for the faint of heart. I remember her call telling me that Baby #4 was actually going to to be Baby #4 and #5, identical twin girls. My first thought was "Holy crap, she's going to have FIVE kids!!" as if it were the craziest thing ever. So, I get it.

The greatest joy has come from the responses of our children. Gage shouted "A BROTHER!!" (we will not be finding out), Gracie said, "Is a baby in ya tummy foe wheel?", Ash said "Baby....in your tummy!?!" and Jay came and lifted up my shirt to see if he could find the baby. Gracie came over to me and whispered in my ear, "You know what I'm going to do when the baby comes out?........(with wide eyes and a nodding head) I'm going to hold it!!" Later that evening Gage came over and talked to the baby saying, "I'll teach you everything!" Nothing but excitement.

Looking forward to sharing more joy with you in the months ahead. I hoping the start of school will allow more time for blogging. Enjoy some of our summer pics.....

Love.

Gilroy Gardens

 Park time

 Gage took this

 Todd Beamer "water park"

Off to skate

Too much fun for Ash

Ornery

 Farm visit

ZOO
She Loves this dress, THANK YOU for the lovely hand-me-downs Ashley!

 "Follow me everyone!"-Gage, all the time

 This guy is trouble

 Her faces are ridiculous

The Bear

Stingrays

 Farmers Market

That's the robot, in case you didn't know

 Beach day in Monterey 

xoxo

It takes a village......

I'm sure you've all heard the saying, "It takes a village to raise a child". It's origins are unknown, but I'm telling you-I live by it.

Often I'm complimented (at least I take it that way) on how calm I am. "I don't know how you do it! I can't believe you would even THINK of having one more!" In part, I think it's the "It takes a village..." approach.

When the twins were born, Gage was in kindergarten. In the months before they arrived, our back neighbors offered to take Gage to/from school for the rest of the school year. At first, I had a hard time accepting. It wasn't that I was worried about him, they are the best neighbors ever. It was that I felt guilty. I felt like it was my job to get him to/from school......even if it meant misery for myself and the three little ones. I hesitantly accepted the offer.

It was the start to something life changing. It changed my approach to mothering. 

The following year we carpooled most days after school. A couple days a week I would give her kids a ride home and most of the others, she would give Gage a ride. I realized then, that throwing a few more kids in my car was really no big deal. What had saved easily an hour from my day the year before, had cost her an extra five minutes and one more loud voice on the ride home. It was just another kid in the car for her-but for me it was HUGE. It meant that I didn't have to (twice a day) worry that my newborn twins and one year old were all fed and changed by a certain time. I didn't have to get myself dressed in real clothes or load and unload three little ones from car seats. I didn't have to wait in the drop off and pick up lines and shush little ones from the drivers seat. I didn't have to vie for the perfect parking spot-where his kindergarten teacher could see me, but I could be close enough to leave the car running and not to have unload the little ones. It meant that I didn't have to wake babies from their naps. It was amazing. It saved me over an hour every day. And for her it was just another kid in the car for the ride. Sometimes taking a child off of a mama's hands for a simple task or a short time isn't even hard and can offer that mom SO much help.  

The reason it was so life changing for me is that it made me realize that it's okay to accept help. I don't need to feel guilty. Even more than to accept help, I've learned it's okay to ask for help.

I ask my village for all kinds of things.....ride to baseball or home from church, help for an appointment, mothering advice (from discipline to school lunches), school calendar reminders, tending my kids for an appointment, keeping the little ones so I can watch Gracie's swim lesson without chasing them, wardrobe sharing, last minute rides from school, a picture of the spelling words for the week, you name it.

As mothers we shouldn't be afraid to ask each other for a little helping hand. I KNOW that it doesn't always feel easy. We're so busy that we assume other mamas are busy and we just don't want to impose. I would encourage you to just TRY it. Today I took a friend of Gracie's home from dance class. It added less than ten minutes to our ride home. Since I tended to the girls in dance (which means I kept track of their shoes) she had over an hour to get things done for an upcoming party. It felt SO GOOD to help her. It was no problem at all. Next time I need a little help, I'm happy to let her return the favor.

Thank you to all of our villagers, too many to list-but I hope you know who you are and how we love you. Our life is made easier and more joyful by your lending hands and our children are better for it.

A couple weeks back I called my friend Danneal early in the morning. She's in my village and she fields health questions and parenting questions. It was Friday morning and I was making donuts. The three youngest had gotten into the cupboard, dumped a bag of tortilla chips out, and were eating them off the floor. I had a choice-I could stop the conversation, take the chips, listen to the whining and crying, possibly run late for school because I paused making donuts to deal with it.......OR I could ignore it and continue my baking and conversation. I chose the latter. What was the worst that could happen? They eat a little dirt? Maybe a piece of hair? They spoil their breakfast? Let's face it-I was making donuts, they were probably better off with the tortilla chips (vegetable group, right sister?).  The reason I share this, is that recently, a friend commented on an Instagram photo of my kids, and said that I make it look easy. I assure you that with two year old twins-it's not. But, it's certainly made easier by choices like this. I don't bother worrying if my kids are eating something off of the floor or wiping their faces on the back slider. I don't worry if laundry sits folded on my couch for half the day. I can't. I just can't. 

So when motherhood feels overwhelming-ask for a little help from a trusted friend. And next time your kids wipe their snot on their shirt-pretend like you didn't see it. You can teach that lesson another day.

Enjoy some pics of the kids......it's been a while.

Sadly, I lost all of my pictures from Easter Sunday but a do have some from other Easter festivities
Egg dying....

These pics are from the egg hunt at Peoples Church. Gage was a really good big brother on this day. He took Gracie to help her hunt eggs and took each of the little ones through the bounce houses. He didn't complain about having to help keep an eye on them and he reveled in his big brother role. It's noteworthy because that doesn't always happen. 

 

I was surprised when Gage wanted to play this year because he hated baseball last year. He said it was boring. This year he jumped at the chance to play catcher. He enjoyed the season a lot more being in on more of the action. 

 

At the end of April we went to Monterey. Gage chose to stay home with his dad because he didn't want to miss school (he wanted perfect attendance this year) or baseball.

Ashlyn's favorite exhibit at the aquarium was the penguins. She could have sat there all day and watched them dive down into the water and climb back out.

 

Gracie at the children's museum 

 

The kids were a little more brave at Gilroy Gardens than I expected. They rode several rides with me, this pic was on the Ferris wheel. 

 

And finally, we cut Jay's hair. I'm still getting used to it and going back to these pics made me miss it even more.

Hope to be back sooner than later. Maybe summer will allow more time.

Love.