A defining year

As we were sitting around the table the other night recounting the year, we realized that it was a big year of happenings for our family.

January

• celebrated ten years of marriage
• welcomed Miles Nathanael to our lives

April

• First campout of the season mothers day weekend (so many things went awry its hysterical)
• I learned that there is a tumor the size of a ping pong ball growing on my left thyroid lobe
• Annual Sister shopping trip to Omaha

May

• Phil completed his last year of teaching computers as that position was eliminated
• Trip to Colorado to witness youngest brother graduate Valedictorian of his high school class

June

• Annual Zlomke Family campout at Fort Kearny
• Campout with the Bradens at Pioneer Village
• Annual Lewis and Clark camping trip for Phil

July

• Abi's first time at church camp
• a parcel of land is found (via craigslist!) that meets our criteria
• my Grandmother passes
• Phil helps develop the new class of Financial Literacy for the district

August

• school starts with Phil teaching a new class, Abi as a fourth grader, Lizzi as a home schooled kindergardener, and Wesley as a preschooler
• a fun birthday trip that included climbing a 'mountain' and a visit to Nebraska City
• made down payment for our land
• Phil completes his first classes of post graduate work

September

• bought land
• van dies two days later 

October

• bought replacement van
• Phil's car dies two days later
• weekend trip to Omaha with friends

December

• my grandfather passes
• Christmas trip to Kansas City
• completed Reading the Bible in One Year

Zlomke Christmas Card

Last Family Photo at my Grandparents Home

I love this picture.  Sure it's out of focus and only one person is actually looking at the camera.  But I find that it shows our family very well.  We're together, loving each other.  Aptly it's a glimpse into our lives too.  Wesley is near us but in his own imaginative place.  Phil is staring straight into the lens, focused, confident, happy, and having a plan for him and us.  Abi is near her beloved daddy but with that ever more present expression that says I'd rather be elsewhere reading a book.  Miles is reaching for me, while I'm watching him lest I miss a moment of his babyhood.  Lizzi has a faraway dreamy look.  Which makes me wonder as I often do, what she is dreaming about.  That pink ball is one I played with as a child and reminds me that my childhood and those who graced it will always be alive in my memories.

While I could ramble on and on, I'll keep it short today and just wish you all a Merry Christmas.  From our home to yours, may this season find you filled with the love and peace of our Heavenly Father.

Some Days a Girl Just Can't Win

I inherited my Grandmothers pasta maker this summer.  I decided that this month would be an excellent time to try it out.  Yesterday I had penciled in Turkey Noodle Soup with homemade noodles on my menu.  Certain members have been having digestion issues so I opted for gluten free ones to keep troubles at bay.  I decided to give this recipe a go since I had all the ingredients on hand--http://frugalfarmwife.com/article/gluten-free-egg-noodles.

It was very easy to make and Grandma's machine didn't have any problems at first cranking out some pretty noodles.  However, after a while progress halted and what little bit came forth were crumbling apart instead of staying together.

A fussy feverish baby made the decision easy.  Scrap the machine and roll them out by hand like the original poster had done.

As the noodles were simmering in the broth I stepped outside to chat with Abi.  I had no idea that it was nearly 70 degrees outside!  Which meant that it was much too warm to serve soup ( this happens to me quite frequently, abnormally warm days on scheduled soup ones).  Scrap that idea too.

Ok, regroup.  What can I serve that's gluten and dairy free that everyone will eat as we empty out the fridge in preparation of our upcoming trip?  Buttered noodles, broccoli, and shredded barbecue.  I figured this would be a win all around.  I would get the noodles that I have been craving.  The kids would the the broccoli that they've been begging for.  And Phil would get the meat that he adores.

The phone rings 'hey babe just wanted to let you know I'm on my way home but I munched on leftover pizza so I'm not hungry'

We sit down to eat and although the kids had helped make the noodles and previously tasted them one declared to be not hungry and two suddenly didn't like them.

The baby cried through the meal since he was miserable.

I sat there and wondered why I bothered making this giant mess in the kitchen for no one to enjoy them but myself.  I would have been just as happy having plain rice without all the work.  It felt like a the never ending day of frustrations with Miles being inconsolable, arguments with Abi, a pasta maker that is as fickle as my Grandfather forewarned, and a family that seemingly wasn't interested in my hard efforts.

Thankfully, those noodles were good.  Definitely would have been better in the soup, but enjoyable none the less.  The disappointment faded (but strangely not the mess in the kitchen) and worked its way into relief that there were leftovers for todays lunch.  Those noodles were even better today with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese.

Oh, and for the record those noodles are super easy to make in case you were wondering!

Lizzi and Uncle Kenny

My brother is awesome.  He is totally ok with Lizzi becoming his shadow every time she sees him.  I find it fascinating that each of my kids have bonded closely with one of my siblings.  That's not to say they don't love or appreciate the others, just a special pairing they each have.  Abi and Aunt Mandy, Lizzi and Uncle Kenny, Wesley and Uncle Taylor, and Miles seems pretty drawn to Uncle Zach thus far.

As soon as we got to Grandpa's on the day of the funeral, I saw her run and jump on him.  Ken doesn't say no, he picks her up and gives her piggy back rides, swings her around, and snuggles with her.  Thank goodness for his army training to keep him fit and strong as she's not such a wee thing anymore!

We are all pretty excited for Ken and where he's going next--Hawaii.  We all joke that whoever is standing next to us is paying our way for a visit.  For us though, we're really sad to see him go.  He can't just hop in the car and drive over and see us.  As a family of six I doubt we could save enough in the three years that Ken will be there to go see him.  That's the tough part about Military, you never know when you'll see your loved ones next.  I'm sure though that the next time we do it will look something like this.

Wesley and His Tie

This boy just melts my heart.  He brings so much joy to our lives.  On Sunday mornings when Wesley finds out it's 'church day' he takes off shrieking down the hallway 'it's church day!  It's church day!'  He gets out his church clothes and shoes and gets ready.  From the moment he finds out the repeated question falls out of his mouth 'is it time to go to church yet?'

Wesley had so much fun showing my dad his tie.  He seemed pretty tickled that 'parmpa' (his cute pronunciation of grandpa) was wearing one too.  I'm guessing that he showed more than just my dad and Phil his tie that day.

I've seen little glimpses of his adult self.  This picture is a fascinating blend of Phil and myself.  A lot of times Wesley looks like my dad did as a kid.  Yet he has the same facial shape and so many of the same mannerisms as Phil.  They wipe water from their faces the exact same way.  It's amusing and slightly eerie when I witness that.

Wesley has a smile that spreads far beyond his face, and when you hear his laugh you can't help but join in.  This makes keeping a straight face during difficult, especially when he's needing some *ahem* redirection.

While Wesley is all boy and loves to run, wrestle, and shoot anything that remotely looks like a gun, he's got a gentle side too.  He takes off bounding down the hall to greet Miles at the first awake cry, and gives him such tender hugs.  Wesley also loves to help me, he's quick to push a chair over to the counter, and he can clean his room up solo faster than the girls can do theirs together.  I love watching him create and imagine.  His vocabulary has just started blowing up, and letter recognition has begun.  Wesley is so expressive when he talks that half the time I am so mesmerized by his movements that I don't even listen to the story.  This allows me to ask him to repeat it again so I can listen while chuckling over his expressions the second time.  Live instant replay is awesome.

I love this little guy, and I pray that when he grows up, gets married and has kids that he still comes home frequently and lights up my life like he does now.

Miles + Crackers = Smiles

Phil bought himself a new lens (Merry Christmas, Happy Anniversary, and Happy Birthday sweetie) that is lovingly called the fish eye lens.   He took it along for the funeral and got some neat perspectives.  At the luncheon we gave Miles his first cracker as a snack.  Phil got all sorts of fun photos from that mini meal.  I didn't bother trying to select my favorites, because you can never have too many shots of a chubby checked baby eating food.  I hope you enjoy them as much as we have!

Grandpa's Funeral

I thought I was ready for today.  I had said goodbye.  I had cried rivers already.


What I didn't take into account was how hard all those lasts would be.  The last time to sit around Grandpa's table holding hands saying grace and eating together.  The last time I will probably see certain family members alive.  Yes there are a bit crazy and we aren't necessarily close, but they are still family.  
Mom and her siblings have been hard at work this last week to get the estate ready for auction.  She'd warned me that they had taken some things out and rearranged furniture but it was still a shock.  The pictures that I was used to seeing upon entering were down.  Grandpa's cuckoo clock was packed up for the auction.  Grandma's organ was gone.  The couches were rearranged.  My grandparents lived in a time capsule, nothing ever changed, so it was difficult to see it so barren.

Since it was so bitterly cold and blustery, the service was held in the house.  I'm thankful for whomever made that decision.  My dad officiated and read a few different passages from John.  The one that started the tears was John 14:1-4 "Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God; trust also in me.  In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you.  I am going there to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.  You know the way to the place where I am going." Those tears fell because as I held Grandpa's hand and my Mom and her sisters were saying verses those were the ones that came to my mind.  I wanted to speak them but didn't feel it was right.  It was a blessing to me that those were the final scriptures used to comfort me through my goodbyes.

Being such an empathic person it tore me up inside to see my mom and Aunt in such pain.  A pain that I shared.  A pain that I couldn't lessen.  No amount of hugging could ease their hurting.  Which just added to my own pain, and when it spilled over my darling husband was quick to come over and hold me tight and say I love you.  That man knows me so well and has been such a wonder through all of this.

The luncheon and afternoon gathering was a lovely time to spend reminiscing, sharing memories, hearing stories.  I learned that when I was a little girl I was scared of men and the only men I'd let hold me were my Dad and my Grandpa.  Seeing pictures of Grandpa when we was just a baby, through childhood and adulthood was so neat.  I couldn't get over how much my brother Taylor looks like he did at those ages.  With each picture I'd pick up that wonder spilled forth.  They had even found a picture that Grandpa had given to Grandma when they were dating that he had written 'to a swell girl, love Dutch'.  Phil took a picture of that front and back because he knew I didn't have anything in Grandpa's hand writing.

On the way home we were discussing the Cuckoo clock.  He showed me a video that he had taken of Grandpa holding our kids while they waited together for the cuckoo to come out.  Just he had done with me.  Knowing my not so fond thoughts regarding the estate auction Phil asked me to quantify how much that cuckoo clock was worth to me.
I said Phil it's not the clock, it was Grandpa.
Holding me up as a child to help pull the chains down to keep it running.
It was Grandpa who made time and activities stand still as we waited together for the cuckoo to come out.
It wasn't the clock that was special, it was Grandpa.

Big Feelings in a Little Body

This lil guy had what I would categorize as his first big fit.  Yesterday for reasons unclear to us he went from contentedly playing at my feet to screaming crawling and crying all the same time.  When he started crying I said come here Miles which unleashed the angry baby who then proceeded to scream and crawl forwards then backwards then sit and repeat.  I got up and picked him up and cradled him in my arms.  As he looked at me with scared tear stained eyes I asked did you have some big feelings there baby.  Miles responded by giving me his oh face and then screamed some more.  I just held the poor dear a bit tighter and told him it was ok we all have big feelings sometimes and that I was here to help him work through it.

He finally calmed down and then nursed like a newborn with such large searching eyes.  If this is a foreshadowing of what is to come, we are in for quite a ride!

Oh, and lest you find it cruel that we took this picture while he was going through his first big emotional upheaval, you can rest easy knowing that Phil snapped this picture a few nights prior when Miles started crying because I walked down the stairs without him!

Light Night

Today is a day I look forward to as soon as people put up their Christmas lights (yes, even the ones on before thanksgiving).  It is the anniversary of Phil's and mine first date.  Today marks our twelfth year of going out and looking at lights.

Our story as a couple is kind of funny and we enjoyed going over the memories at lunch.  He had asked me out on a date for a few reasons.  Pity being one and giving me (who had never dated) a positive dating experience for the other.  I know, quite romantic, eh?  Don't worry, he has made it up to me since over the years.

We were really good friends at the time so I had told him that if he was going to take me out it had better be something other than sitting around and watching tv together.  I was assured that plans would be made.  For dinner we went to the cafeteria.  I had conflicting thoughts, did he make any plans or was he just saving his money for afterwards?  We went back to Phil's dorm and I was getting quite suspicious that no plans had been made.  After watching a show I asked what the plan was to which I got a surprised look and I thought this would be fine.  I said come on Phil this is my first date, I want to do something!  I said why don't you drive me around and look at Christmas lights.  He begrudgingly put on his coat and we walked through the bitter cold to his car.  When it wouldn't start he grinned 'aww shucks, guess we can't go'.  To which I responded by pulling my keys out and dangling them in his face saying he could drive my car.  Realizing he wasn't going to get out of it, Phil took my keys and my arm and away we went driving around the town looking at the lights.

We have gone out every year since, braving a newborn baby one year and blizzard on another to do so.  The matter of the fact is that this day is more special to us than our wedding anniversary.  We both agreed that when one of us dies this beloved day will be more difficult to bear than the others birthday or anniversary.  It not only marks the beginning of our relationship as a couple, but it is a family affair now too.  We go out donning our pajamas and drive around listening to Christmas music.  We drive while shrieks of 'look at this one!', 'oh oh dad go down there!', and 'that one is my favorite!' resonate from the backseat.  We drive until the littles are asleep and the olders are tired of looking on and are quiet.  In that silence it's like we are  beginning all over again.  We are driving and holding hands like we did in college, with smiles on our faces, and hope for our years of growing old together.

So when you turn the lights on tonight, know they hold a very special spot in our hearts.

Blessing Behind the Lens

Yesterday when I was uploading the pictures for the Catan post, I stumbled across a picture of Grandpa on the card that I didn't know was there.  I quickly closed it out not ready to look at it.

Today my parents popped over for a visit.  They've never done that, and since we live so far away our visits are delicately orchestrated.  Mom just needed to get out of Grandpa's house for a bit, and see us and give me a hug.

I decided to look and see what Phil had captured completely unbeknownst by me.  Just when I thought I'd make it through this day with a dry eye, the flood gates burst open.  You see, the only regret I had was not taking a picture of my Grandfather's hands when I said goodbye.  I never told anyone that I wanted anything like that, so I know that God inspired Phil to take that photos perspective.    To have the last day (that we didn't know would be the last) we spent with Grandpa recorded is such a huge blessing.  Phil captured him exactly how I knew him, those big hands gently folded while lovingly looking on at his family.

Grandpa or Big Papa Dutch as the kids knew him celebrating Abi's birthday

Here's an insight on Grandpa's size.  At 86 he still stood 6 feet tall, wore a size 14 shoe, and my thumb wasn't even as large as his pinkie.  So his hands aren't distorted or out of proportion, they truly were that big.   He was my gentle giant and my heart aches the loss of his presence.   But this picture is my souls balm, and the sting of regret joyously fades into oblivion.

Settlers of Catan Tournament

Susan and Jason (Phil's sister and brother in law) held a settlers of Catan tournament Saturday night.  I was a bit nervous about how it would go for me.  Miles has been super clingy and mostly freaks out when I walk out of the room and he crawls while crying after me.  I figured that I would have to jostle him the whole night until he cried himself to sleep amidst my apologies.  However, Grandma decided she was up to the task of trying to care for him (alongside our other three and two of our nephews, she's amazing!) with the promise that if he got too bad she'd call and put the screaming babe on and I'd come running.

I also wasn't sure if I'd even enjoy myself.  Catan is a strategy game of which I'm not a fan.  As a personal rule of thumb I don't tend to play strategy games because I am not gifted in the long haul.  I play Catan to interact with Phil and his family, because I love him and his family that much.  It helps that I'm not absolutely horrible as there is a margin of luck involved by how the die falls.

 I was apprehensive about going because the guest list was rather long.   As the days go by (yes I said days and not months or years), I struggle more and more with social awkwardness border-lining on anxiety.  Phil knows as much, and I asked him to stay close to help ease my nerves.  We got there early so Phil could finish helping Jason make the trophy.  Phil's handyman skills never cease to amaze me, he is gifted at almost everything he tries his hand at.

The teaching round for those who had never played before was at that same time so Phil encouraged me to join in and we'd be partners.  That lasted all of about 2 minutes and when the guests started arriving he went to help host and socialize as Susan and Jason were doing the teaching.

Once the tournament got underway I was better.  I placed second at my table of four for the first round and fourth out of four for the last round.  It was better than I had anticipated.  Shockingly my total score was high enough to put me in a three way tie for the last chair of the final round.  I bowed out as it was well past ten and I knew Miles would be waking soon.  Plus I'm well known for not being a night owl so it was just as well.  It was a lot of fun in the end and the Catan cake that I helped Phil make was laughed at and loved by all.

The Catan Cake!  (Little Debbies Frosted in appropriate colors)

The teaching round

2nd round we found humorous as it was Susan, Jason, Phil and myself

Guests at table two

Guests at table three

Final Round

Final round- substitution as one player had to get on the road due to weather

The Winner--Jason--the host who got the most!
Also the rockin trophy that Phil helped create

All pictures curtesy of Phil and his new 'fish eye' lens.

My final farewell to Grandpa

Today, December 5, I said my last goodbye to my Grandpa.  It was just as amazing as it was when Grandma passed with God's timing so beautifully woven in the story.

Dad called midmorning to tell me that Grandpa hadn't been out of bed for days and was unresponsive.  One of my dad's various vocations is a hospice preacher, so I knew what he was talking about when he said the phrases 'death rattle' and 'skin breaking down'.  We discussed what times would be best for him to call me with the news of Grandpa's passing.  I can be mysteriously calm and contained when getting hard messages over the phone.  That all changes when I hang up.  I was really shook up.  Even though I had been prepping myself for months now (could it be that long?  It sure doesn't seem it) I was still shellshocked to hear the news.  I quickly sent an email to Phil assuming that would help pacify me.  It didn't, and the tears started to well up.  Thankfully, Lizzi wanted to do a piano lesson (which she hasn't in weeks), so I quick set her up with the next video and went to call Heidi.

Heidi is my soul sister and I cannot convey the depth of how much I love her.  She has walked beside me through so many of life's trials, and true to form she answered her phone and listened.  When I told her that I was kicking myself for saying 'see you on December 23' instead of 'I love you' to Grandpa she suggested that I call and have them put the phone up to his ear so I could say those things.  I'm not sure what my response was, but I'm guessing I must have said I just wanted to jump in the car and go.  Trouble was that Phil had the van.  My sweet friend offered to come right away to pick us up, keep the kids, and take me to Phil's school so I could go.  I hesitated but Heidi pushed me.  She had just been through the same situation just a few weeks prior with her uncle and insisted that she was so glad to have done it, and she didn't want me to regret not going.

 I accepted and flew into action.  Called my mom and through my tears explained that I needed to come and say goodbye.  Mom said 'you know you're always welcome'.  Called Dodge Elementary to inform them that Lizzi would not be attending.  Called Westridge and was patched through (immediately and without question) to Phil to tell him that I was coming to take the van.  Loaded the diaper bag and packed the kids a lunch as Heidi would keep Lizzi and Wesley.  Grabbed a box of tissues as I couldn't stop crying and my key to the van and away we went.

Phil called as we were on the way and said he was trying to get a sub so he could go with me and not to leave Westridge until I had talked to him again.  As I was buckling Miles into his carseat Phil called back and said they weren't able to get a sub for him and he was sorry that he couldn't go, drive safely, and I love you.  Still crying I headed out of town.  A fuse blew in the van on Monday which has left our radio down and out.  As I kept crying I thought to myself that I needed to gain some composure so I wasn't a complete blubbering fool when I reached Grandpa's door.  I reached for the phone and called Rebecca.  Thank the Lord for good friends!  I got to reconnect with her, laugh, listen, and calm down.  I chatted with her the whole way there until we lost connection five miles outside of town.  Those final miles allowed me to think through what I wanted to say to Grandpa.

I got there and went inside, Mom and Aunt Connie embraced us.  We talked while I nursed Miles then Mom asked if I'd like to go back.  Yes, I did.  With some trepidation I followed her.  I was shocked when I saw Grandpa laying in bed.  This was not the same man I had just seen six days before.  I could see that death was right around the corner.  He gurgled as he breathed and it was a labored breathing at that.  It stunned me silent and I was grateful for my mom's chatting so I could catch myself.  She took Miles and they walked around the room and played peek a boo with their reflections as I started talking.

I took Grandpa's hand and told him
'Grandpa, it's Alicia.  I know that you didn't want me to see you like this, but I had to come and say I love you one more time.  I know how much you love your grandchildren, so I wanted to let you know that two years ago we had a twin miscarriage.  We named them Zara Amethyst and Caeles Jasper.  Zara means shining star, and amethyst is one of the jewels God used to build the heavens.  Caeles means heavenly dweller and jasper is another gem that God used to build the new Jerusalem.  When you get there, you give them a hug for me and tell them that I love them.  And to Grandma to.  Grandpa, I want you to know that I'm not going to remember you like this, I'm going to remember all the good times that we had playing cards, and how I never beat you at Chinese checkers.  I'm going to remember going for rides in your Mill and wearing your big ear protectors, eating apples together as we rode together in the truck.  Getting corn and shucking it together.  Grandpa, I'm going to miss these hands of yours, and how you made me feel like I was your favorite grandchild (when I said that his shoulders heaved as if you say to me you are, because everyone is their grandpa's favorite and we all know it).  I'm going to miss your hugs Grandpa (I stood here and gave him a long teary hug, and then kissed the side of his forehead).  I'm going to miss you Grandpa...I love you Grandpa...goodbye.'

There were so many other memories that I wanted to share with him, but I couldn't say anymore to him through my tears.  I reached for the tissues by his bedside, blew my nose and said I love you one more time.  Then I cried on my mom's shoulder.

Shortly, right as I was getting ready to go, Mom came out and said 'Connie I think dad's passed'.  We rushed back there and as we crossed the door's threshold he gasped again.  I stood in the corner and watched as Mom stroked his shoulders, Aunt Jane held his hand, and Aunt Connie his feet.  They all started talking to him.  Dad go, Mom's waiting.  Go Dad, it's ok, Jesus is waiting.  Take your time Dad, we're not going anywhere.  I decided right or wrong, I was going to go sit on the bed and hold his other hand.  Miles just sat there quietly on my lap the whole time.  I stayed silent and just stroked his hand.  Those big hands that have loved me so much through my life.  I looked up at those three sisters and saw such pain, relief, and joy that Grandpa was almost done suffering.  Aunt Connie checked his pulse and could barely get a reading of 20.  She said My peace I give you, Aunt Jane tried singing Jesus loves me, I don't remember what my mom said, but I saw her tenderly close his eyes.  One last breath and then he was still.  A minute later his jaw twitched and then we knew for certain he was gone.  We all cried and hugged and were so happy for Grandpa to be at peace.  The sacredness of what I witnessed and participated in hit me, and I thanked them each for the honor to sit and hold his hand as he hand as he passed from our arms into Jesus'.

When I close my eyes, I see my hand that looks so tiny in his big one.  I have such peace knowing that I got to say goodbye to him, and hold his hand as he died.  Envisioning him young and pain free, and dandling my babes on his knees brings such joy to my heart.  I look forward to the day when I go home to heaven and get to see Grandpa again.  I can just see him, hugging me, holding my hand, and presenting me before our Heavenly Father.  What a blessed day that will be.

Potato Soup

http://southernfood.about.com/od/crockpotsoup/r/bl72c5.htm

I tell you, I just cannot get enough of this potato soup.  It is tasty enough to stand alone or add anything you desire.  I can (and sometimes do) eat this for three meals a day.  That probably explains how I can get through a triple batch with my family only eating it for one meal.
Last week I added leftover rice and chicken and it was a whole new soup.
Yesterday leftover spanish rice and taco meat went in and was a delight to my tongue.
Today refried beans, taco meat and tortilla chips were included with the potato soup.
Side note: tortilla chips are the perfect cracker for soup as they retain their crunchiness until the last bite, assuming that you get to sit down with your bowl without any interruptions.

Just as I start wondering what other leftovers I could add to have a whole new dish I ran out of that wonderful soup (sniff, sniff)!

My kitchen notes on this soup are as follows.  Use dried minced onions to spare myself the tears.  Shred the potatoes and carrots in my food processor in lieu of chopping.  Doing an extra spud or two so as to avoid needing to thicken the soup up with flour or cornstarch.  Tripling the batch to use the whole quart of cream I get at Sams Club.  Sadly a triple batch won't fit in my crockpot so I use my stockpot instead.  The good news is that the stockpot actually fits in my fridge without having to take out any shelves!

Next time you get a hankering for potato soup, I highly recommend trying this one.  While I can't claim the recipe as my own, it is now a frequent flyer in my winter menu rotation.

Guilt

Last night was a rough night.  I was up for a good portion of it trying to figure out why Miles was shrieking.  Nursing,  diaper change, vertical snuggling, teething tablets, and laying on daddy's chest brought no relief only more incessant and panicked wailing.  Finally at my wits and noticing that he kept jerking his legs (which made me think growing pains) I gave ibuprofen.  It kicked in and he was able to relax enough to sleep.  It was still fitful as he kept fidgeting and moaning.

Needless to say it was with great effort that I pulled myself out of bed to start my day with the Lord.  Coffee in one hand Bible in the other I read through the end of Daniel and Psalm 119.  I wanted to get my new testament portion in but my mind was having troubles focusing.  Thankfully the Holy Spirit gave me an elbowing and said 'hey read that again, you missed it'.  As my eyes back tracked this verse jumped off the page and into my heart.

1 John 3:20
Even if we feel guilty, God is greater than our feelings, and he knows everything.

Let me tell you guilt is one of those well played cards in my head.  It is quite possibly the strongest emotion with I deal with from awaking in the morning until my brain shuts off at night.  And I do everything in my power to hide it away from the world.

Guilt over:

• not waking earlier to exercise
• taking too much time getting dressed
• not praying enough
• not reading as much scripture as I'd like if I pray too long
• not wanting to read the 'hard' parts of the Bible

This is just a small sampling, and I've not even been awake for an hour!

I know that I'm a perfectionist, I never knew just how hard I was on myself until God pointed out this verse to me.  As I've been snuggling Miles today (turns out he's sick hence the rough night) it's given me a lot of time to reflect on guilt's over bearing presence in my life.  I am so thankful that God is greater than my feelings.  I've built a nice little hideaway to shield myself away from the eyes of my Maker.  I realized He already knew ( gotta love those 'duh' moments in life!) but wanted me to see what I'd been doing to myself, and tear that fortress of guilt down.

Forgiveness is a beautiful thing, and the next verse was a confirmation that I had been acquitted.

1 John 3:21

Dear friends, if we don't feel guilty, we can come to God with bold confidence.  

  

Now I'm on the journey towards grace and away from guilt...won't you join me? 

Turning Nine

Even though I don't feel old enough to have my first baby turn nine, the day is almost here.  Since becoming a mother has been the largest game changer of my life I tend to reflect and become a sentimental sap.

Abi is rapidly turning into a young lady.  Just this weekend she started wearing deodorant (homemade of course!).  Her face has lost all baby pudge, and is starting to look a bit more like mine with the sharply defined features.  There is the hint of the curves that are to come.  I've also noticed that she is entering that transitional time of childhood where playing isn't all it used to be.  Books are more likely to be chosen.  Indecisiveness and insecurity have popped up as she morphs into the next stage of life.

The great thing about Abi turning nine is that she can read and loves to cook.  In fact most weekend mornings you will find her in the kitchen whipping up some delectable breakfast goodies.  Chocolate chip pancakes seem to be the favorite.

This is the smiling smirk I get most days.  Thankfully her rambunctious laughter and shrieks are close to follow. 

I'm not needed in a lot of areas of her life anymore.  I don't need to pick out her clothes, or fix her hair.  My advice on what looks good together is often scoffed at.  She doesn't want me to tuck her in, or even turn off the light these days.  Even though this little lady is growing up much quicker than I ever anticipated, I still get to hear the magical words 'goodnight mama, I love you'.  And that's enough for me.

Thanksgiving Ramblings

Thanksgiving happens to be my favorite holiday.  I love the big family gatherings that have carried over from my childhood when I became Phil's bride.  Thanksgiving has always been a joyous event, lots of hugs and laughter.  So please pardon my grumpiness as Christmas tries to upperhandedly sneak it's way in and steal the limelight.

In true Thanksgiving fashion (and because my current book of study is having me write out what I'm thankful for) here are some of my top thanks outside of the usual friends and family bit.

• For this house that has seen our family double in size
• for a Bible to read God's word and the freedom to do so
• the internet which houses a wealth of information that I can't obtain from the library
• yarn and the fun things to create from it
• the food in my house that never runs out
• homeschooling--a blessed way to be intentional with our children

As I reflect on the second anniversary of our loss of Zara and Caeles I am grateful for this holiday based in thanks to mark their passings.  Grateful that I can smile at their gain instead of cry for my loss.  Grateful that my God has prepared a place for them, and that I will someday be with them again.

Happy thanksgiving my friends.  May your hearts be filled with as much love, gratitude, and contentment as your tummies are with turkey, trimmings, and pie!

Photo Collages

This summer Phil printed off around one hundred of his favorite prints from the last three years and handed me the stack.  I was overwhelmed as to what to do with them, so I stuck them in my desk.  Last week when I started decluttering the desk I found them and decided that I needed to do something with them and not just stick them in another spot.  I decided to divide them and make a collage for each family member.

Miles had the least amount of pictures so I chose to start with his first.  I found a frame that had been sitting empty for years and discovered it was just the right size.  My initial plan was to use scraps of fabric from Grandma's collection, but opted to use the scrapbook paper that I've had since Abi was born.  I was pleased as punch with how it turned out!

I know it's a bit hard to see (the joys of using my phone instead of camera!) but the top in all lower case says Miles Nathanael.  Under Nathanael I had a sticker that says Gift From God, which is the meaning of Nathanael, very fitting I thought.  The left corner says Little Guy and the right says baby boy.  

The black and white photo is the upper left is Miles peeking through a cut out at Focus on the Family's Adventures in Oddessy.  

The middle family shot was taken by a kind stranger by the fountain at Casa Bonita in Denver.  

The upper right is Phil holding Miles when he was a newborn.  

The bottom left was shortly after his birth.  

The bottom right is a peekaboo shot of him in the baby tub, the brown is Wesley's arm as he was getting ready to help wash. 

I spent a bit more time on Miles' collage because I haven't made anything for him since his birth, and with such few pictures I wanted it to look extra special.

I was annoyed that the dollar store didn't have any poster board, but it turned out ok as I was able to use the bottom of a box to mount everything on.

Top Left is a reflection of Wesley (age one) at Pueblo Colorado aquarium portion of the zoo

Next over he is eating a smore while camping this summer

Not sure if you can see Wesley's expression on the family shot with the dinosaur.  That is Dinger the Colorado Rockies mascot.  Wesley was so excited to meet Dinger, but as soon as we got close he started crying, howled during the photo, and then talked non stop about how awesome Dinger was as soon as we walked away.

Top right corner is the one year old picture.  Wesley is sitting in a box of duplo legos.  He was utterly obsessed with them from the time he could crawl until shortly after his first birthday.  He carried a lego all day long, while crawling, nursing, even falling asleep.  I would pry his little fingers open when I went to bed, and for a few months that was the only time he didn't hold a block!

Middle left is a happy baby shot

Pumpkin patch sibling shot.  I don't think he's grown a whole lot since then :)

Middle black and white is a look at Phil's classic style of photography

Family shot showcasing the first skirts that I made for us gals for easter a few years back

Black and white on the right is Wesley's peek a boo shot at Adventures in Oddessy.  We couldn't stop laughing at his expression!

Bottom left is Wesley wearing daddy's cowboy hat as a baby.  

Middle is him trying out Phil's camera with me as the subject

Bottom right is a sibling shot at the pumpkin patch when Wesley was almost 1.5

These were a lot of fun to make and hopefully soon I'll have a part two showcasing the girls'!

Sausage Spinach Rice Casserole

Instead of going grocery shopping last weekend we decided to dwindle the pantry and freezer.  I haven't had the wherewithal to actually take note of everything in those places and come up with a meal plan for the week.  I've just been winging it, and while we had some favorites, last night I came up with something new.  To my surprise it was a hit with the family, even the picky one!  The amounts listed might differ from reality as I was just throwing it together as I went.

Notes:     While this meal was really tasty it was pretty heavy on the rice, so if I made it this way it'd be as a side dish.  For a main dish I would do less rice, more spinach,  and more sausage (per Phil's request).  I had half of a box of fresh spinach from Sams Club that I froze so I'm not sure on the exact amount used.  The peppers were from the garden that Phil had sliced into rings and frozen.  I tossed in one and a half handfuls when wilting the spinach.  The parmesan cheese I just shook into the roux, so it may have been more or less than the cup that I listed.  Oh, and did you know that you can boil rice like you would pasta noodles?  That was a revolutionary kitchen tip for me, and I can now cook palatable rice!

3c rice (uncooked)
1 lb sausage
1 lb spinach
pepperochini peppers
3 tbsp of choice oil
3 tbsp corn starch
3 c milk
1 c parmesan cheese
salt and pepper to taste

1. Cook rice.  
2. Brown sausage 
3. Wilt Spinach and peppers
4. Make Roux
5. Combine all together and eat!

Doesn't get any easier than that my friends.  Let me know what your family thinks if you try it!

Parenting Struggles

Last night felt like a new low as a mom.  We sent Abi to bed at 5:30 with only a piece of bread and glass of water.  The girl had been beside herself in a fit of rage for nearly an hour when we said no more.

It started with being asked to do her regular chores followed by helping Phil rake leaves to prep for the winter.  I could hear from inside the house her yelling at Phil about it not being fair.  We tried the usual suspects to help her calm down to no avail.  By dinner time she was still a complete emotional wreck.  Then she lashed out at Wesley who asked her to quit yelling.  That was the final straw for me, and I asked her to please leave the table.  I was going to just have her leave until she calmed down and then join us, but Phil had had more than enough.  He usually is the one who can reach her and bring her back down to a more amicable state, but she would have none of it.  The verdict was out, off to bed, now, with no radio or dinner.  She was given a piece of bread and a glass of water and allowed to come out of her room twice.  Once for a bathroom break, once to apologize.  She never came out.

Dinner was strained as her fit could be heard through closed doors.  I felt pretty crummy that she chose to be angry and shrug off all of our attempts at gentle reasoning and love.  Phil was exhausted after a hard days work topped off with Abi.  We are no strangers to this kind of raw emotional display from her.  It's been a while since she's had such an awful fit that nothing has worked.  I feel like the only thing we didn't try was to physically hold her down in a warped version of a hug.  At this stage of her life doesn't seem very appropriate.  The ferocity of her feelings reminded me of when she was three and sprawled out on the floor kicking and screaming and turning herself in circles.  Now instead of kicking on the floor she yells out hurtful sayings.

This morning the only prayer I could muster in my sleep deprived frame of mind was 'Father give me the wisdom to parent Abi.'  There was still more anger in her than I would like to have seen in the morning, but what's more disconcerting is to not know why she's so mad.  When I questioned her gingerly this morning I unearthed nothing that would trigger such a response.  My heart is aching for my Abi today knowing she is struggling with such intense feelings swirling around in her little soul.  Her choosing to go at it alone and shut me out grieves me even more.

Fat Melts about as Slow as an Iceberg

January 1st we made our goal for the new years.  Hugely pregnant and missing some good denim I made my goal to be in my skinny jeans by Christmas.  I've always been dedicated to working off the baby weight so this wasn't a lofty goal for me by any means.  I had my plan, wear the girdle for postpartum support (and hopefully help push things back into place) come March and I'd start back to working out.

The strangest thing happened, March came and I wasn't in a big hurry to set Miles down to sweat to a video.  The few times I did he cried and so did I as my ligaments were still too lose and ached painfully.  We did some strolls along the bike path once the weather cooperated but it was by no means cardio.  Then summer was here and I thought we'd start biking all over town like summers past.  The kids were more content to play together and Miles preferred to be held.  Since he's the last baby we're planning for I'm going to hold him as long as he'll let me.

Fall is here and with the threat of snow tomorrow I realized that winter is just around the corner and Miles will be one year old in a little more than two months!  Those skinny jeans aren't going to fit by Christmas since I can't even pull them up over my hips yet.  I held them up today and laughed to think that at one point I wore them and wasn't even comfortable in my own skin.  But another pair of old pants fit.  The largest ones in the box, and that's ok.  So in spite of my lack of vigorous exercise the baby fat is melting away.  Compliments of extended nursing (and perhaps the iodine supplements too).

It is always a marvel to watch my belly grow and swell with life.  It has been just as intriguing (albeit at times frustrating) to watch it morph into its new normal, without any pushing or shoving from me.  A refreshing place to be.

Time is Sand in the Hourglass

This summer was quite a shock to my emotional bearings when Grandma passed.  The reality that my grandparents wouldn't be around forever hit me.  Their presence in my life was something that was always there, it didn't dawn on me that it would be any other way.  Oh sure my siblings and I made guesses over who would go first but it wasn't like we were talking about our grandparents more like what beloved TV show would be cancelled.  Except that I miss my grandma more than Lie to Me or Outsourced.

This revelation has spurred more treks to see my grandpa in the last four months than probably the last five years.  I know that my time with him is slipping away like sand in the hourglass.  I want to savor every moment, play each hand of cards, and get all the hugs I can from that gentle giant of a man who always greets me with a Hello young lady, a nuzzle to the neck embrace with a deep chuckle where I can smell the aftershave on his skin and latest sneaky snack on his breath.

It has been hard to watch Grandpa's health decline, and knowing that Congestive heart failure is like a ticking time bomb I go, and savor.  Last time I tried to drink in the trees in their glorious fall state, the old garden plot where we worked by his side as kids, the smell of his house, and his scent.  Remember this, I told myself, for the seconds on the clock are moving forward faster each time I visit.  I love watching him teach Abi to play Chinese checkers with the same patience that he had with me.  He gives Lizzi and Wesley rides with him in the electric wheelchair.  The 'oh he's so spoiled' with a large grin on his face when Miles doesn't want to leave my arms evokes laughs from us both.

Even though I'm a grown woman, and a mom of nearly nine years, I love how I'm transported back to childhood where I felt like the most beloved grandchild.  Knowing that the final thread of my active childhood is hanging in the balance makes me sad.  Someday all to soon I will say my final goodbyes to Grandpa and that era of my life as well.

Dream or Heavenly Glimpse?

Saturday morning I woke up crying and curious all at the same time.  I had a dream about my grandma.  While it was just a dream, I feel like perhaps it was a glimpse into eternity.

Grandpa, Aunt Connie and I were sitting at the card table chatting and playing Euchre.  All of the sudden I looked up and saw Grandma walking down the hallway using a walker.  I asked Connie if she saw anyone there, to which the reply was no.  I set my cards down and watched Grandma come toward us.  With each step she grew younger, by the time she passed by me the walker was gone.  When she reached her chair she was youthful, slim, unburdened, healthy, and glowing.  Suddenly a squeal of joy rang through the air 'Grandma!' and I saw a little girl around Lizzi's age run up and give her a big hug.  Grandma tilted her head back and laughed heartily and hugged the girl back.

It was at this point that I woke up with tears streaming down my face.  It was amazing to see my grandma at a time and age that I never knew.  I have pondered who the girl is and have wondered if I was allowed to see my little angel baby Zara Amethyst.  Whether it was an amazing dream or a heavenly sneak peek, I wanted to record it here for memory sake.

What do you think, was I just having an amazing dream or was I allowed a glimpse into heaven?

Baby Bird

I fell in love with writing poetry many lifetimes ago in high school.  I love the vivid imagery that succinct lines offer.  I came across this little one that I wrote when Lizzi was a babe and wanted to share it here.  As I read it I'm instantly transported back to her sweet babyhood remembering how she was as a nursling.

  

 Baby bird

     such big blue eyes

    head bobbing

   mouth open

 close

  open

small chirps

and then feeding frenzy.

Baby bird

     such big blue eyes

       snuggle down under my wing

     secure in our warm nest

      rest my sweet little babe.

Lessons from this sweater

See this rockin sweater?  It's the first one that I made for myself.  I learned a lot from making this beau't.  Mistakes will be made, sometimes you can see what effect they have and sometimes you can't. 

Not that I'm a stranger to hard work, but I couldn't believe how long this took me to make.  About six months total.  Of course I don't knit as much in the summer, but I tried because I knew that fall is a very short time and wanted it to be ready.  

After going through my grandmas craft boxes I desired to not have so many unfinished projects in my life.  It was hard at times (especially towards the end) to keep at it, not quit and lay it by the wayside, or start something new that was tickling my fancy.  

In the end, after countless frustrations, mind numbing repetitions, continual pep talks, I have my very own super warm handmade sweater.  With buttons from my grandma's collection as a reminder of her love and life that kept my eye on the finish line.

Change is Good

Tonight a shocker was revealed at the dinner table.  Phil now likes breakfast burritos!  For the course of our marriage (almost 11 years!) he hasn't been able to stomach breakfast burritos due to getting sick off of one in high school.

It was then that the motto change is good ran through my head, and I realized that yes it really is good.  As a person who doesn't like change it has been good to reflect on some of the best happenings in my life because of change.

• a move from Washington state while in first grade to Nebraska landed me across the street from my grandparents.
• a move between two towns in high school allowed me to recreate myself and go from being a wall flower to a practiced extrovert.
• getting pregnant with Abi and moving to a new apartment where I met my lifelong friend Jess, who also helped me be successful in breastfeeding. 
• being a vegetarian for nearly 7 years taught me how to cook, fight fair in marriage, and sensitivity to those with dietary restrictions
• the wonderful new friends I've met with our move to Grand Island wouldn't have happened without change

Even though our move is a few months away, I sometimes feel panicky knowing that another major life change is coming.  I guess I need to dwell on my blessings and what I have to gain instead of the familiar I'm going to lose.  

“Lord, grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.” 
― St. Francis of Assisi

Family Veterans

Today is a day that warms my heart, puffs out my pride, and wets my eye.  All of the patriotic songs that play are a reminder to how much is given by so many.  I am so grateful to those veterans that I personally know.  Both of Phils' grandfathers served in the Korean War.  They don't speak of it often as it is a painful time in their past, but knowing that they left their families to protect and serve our country makes me awed for when they do.

My Dad served in the Navy for nearly nine years.  Three of us first five children were born while he was in the service.  Dad doesn't get to talk much about what he did as it's still all confidential.  When he does I'm glad to get to hear about the pranks they pulled on each other to know that there was still fun and enjoyable moments.

My brother Ken is currently in the Army.  He's been enlisted since Abi was born which means nine years is right around the corner.  Ken's been to deployed Afganistan twice, and Korea for a year.  He is currently in a simulated war scenario so I cannot call him today and thank him for his sacrifice.  When we were kids he was bullied a lot, and I got to stand in the gap for him.  Now he stands in for me in an even larger way, for my continued freedom.

If you have a loved one who has served or is serving for us and our country, please extend my thanks, as I experience firsthand what they have given up for us.

Living with Less

Knowing that the home we're designing is smaller than our current one, I started going through our belongings.  I was aware that we had too many possessions and was annoyed at trying to keep them all tidy and put away.  I wanted to live with less.  There were a few catalysts that helped me start the road toward what some call minimalism.  I prefer the term simple living.

Visiting my aunt last spring who gives so much away and has a sparsely furnished home struck a chord in me.  Her home was so peaceful and serene, I wanted some of that in my home.

Seeing how many boxes my grandma had stashed in her house, and closets stuffed to the brim and how much time and energy my mom and aunt have spent clearing it out was another.

A friend sharing the blog Becoming Minimalist and pictures of tiny homes with all their small but clean spaces really was the final shove I needed.  Reading about how we become so wrapped up in managing our belongings that we spend more time and energy on organizing and maintenance than we do with what is important to us struck a nerve.

I knew that I worked harder at maintaining our home than I did being a mom.  But wait a second, I'm a stay at home mom right?  I realized in that moment that a more accurate title was house manager rather than mother.  And it bothered me.  It bothered me bad.  What if I could spend less time cleaning and more time enjoying these little people God's blessed me with?  Could it be true that if I had less things I would have more time for them?

I was in and ready to find out.  In the last month I've been doing a lot of clearing out the house.  Not just reorganizing closets but actually removing stuff from our lives.  The first few boxes were really easy.  My bookcase collapsed from the load it bore.  Instead of trying to jam all the books back on, I went through and kept out only the ones I knew I would like to read again someday.  The rest went to the library.  Taking out the clothes that haven't fit for a few seasons was easy, and I was able to bless a friend who needed them.  The kids let me go through their closets too as they were overwhelmed with too many choices.  Amazingly Phil even let me go through his closet and get it cleaned up.  I took out two trash bags worth of clothes and he hasn't mentioned it once about missing anything.

The family was up for the next level of the experiment, only enough dishes for 8.  Previously the arrangement was the dishes would pile up from three meals during the day, Phil would load the dishwasher at night and Abi would empty it the next day.  Abi complained almost daily about the task, and sometimes Phil wouldn't be able to load it.  This would leave me with the unpleasant task of either dealing with the mess while waiting for him to get around to it or loading the dishwasher myself.  We were all skeptical about how it would go, having to hand wash the dishes after each meal.  I figured we'd last a week at the most.  It's been a month.  The kids haven't grumbled about needing to wash their dish after each meal, and I don't mind the by product of having a clean kitchen all the time.  We have only used the dishwasher once in the last month and that was last weekend.   Phil was willing to try it for a month.  He hasn't mentioned anything about it and I'm not going to remind him!

Last week I went through my closet again.  I had read a challenge to only have 33 items of clothing  (read about it here: http://theproject333.com/).  The premise is to only have the things that you love hanging in your closet.  I ended up with 40 items in my closet that I love, two of which I'm still not convinced to keep but wasn't ready to part quite yet.  It's been refreshing to just pull the next shirt and sweater out of the closet without wondering about whether I'll like my outfit and if it looks good on me or not.  If you think that 40 items sounds like a lot, I challenge you to pull everything from your closet and only put back 40 just to see what it looks like.  You don't have to give away the extras, you can tuck them away in the spare bedroom closet and bring them back if you miss anything.

I've been making meals more simple too.  I used to love to come up with all sorts of fancy dishes.  Perhaps again someday I will.  For now though, I relish that making meals is quick and easy and doesn't dirty every bowl and pan I own.  I know that the kids appreciate me not being in the kitchen as much because it lends to more time to play a game before daddy comes home from work.  Miles has higher needs for me during dinner making time, so it's nice to meet his needs instead of putting him off, or sticking him in the highchair.

I know that it's only been a month into the experiment, but I'm liking what I'm seeing thus far.  My counters are clean (even conquered my nemesis the island this week!), and my floor is less littered with toys.  Pickup can be done in five minutes which we try and get done before Phil walks in the door.  I love how I'm feeling too.  Not so tired and exhausted in the evening.  I start my day with confidence, no need to glance in the mirror and wonder about my outfit.  I am refreshed walking out to our great room, no clutter, no dirty dishes, just clean spaces.  It's the same feeling I get when I see a magazine cover, but I'm living in it.  More time with the kids too, we're playing more, reading more, being together more.  During that time with them, I'm not thinking about the next cleaning need, I'm there.  And that's right where I want to be.

Oceans

Have you heard this song yet?  It's called Oceans by Hillsong United.  It is a song that is moving me deeply this week.  If you've got ten minutes to sit and listen please do, it's amazing!

Saturday I woke up feeling tired, worn down and burned out.  I thought it would be wise to tell Phil right off the bat so he would know and could help me get to a better place.  Not realizing that he wasn't feeling to swell either, I got grumped at.  Given my state of mood, I took deep offense and went into my safeguard of being passive aggressive.  Every little thing he did I saw negatively, and we just fed off of each other.  I went to bed that night feeling worse than I had when I woke up.

Sunday I was hopeful would be better.  Thankfully I had gotten a better night sleep, and I could at least see that Phil wasn't doing so swimmingly.  Sunday mornings are usually fraught with  troubles, and it is all we can do to make it to church with everyone alive, unbeaten, fed and dressed.  I, however was still mad at Phil, and everything he did just annoyed me greater.  Then this song was played, and it started working on me.

I love how the Spirit just whispers my faults out to me.  Sometimes I need the 2x4 to the head moments, but generally a whisper will catch my attention.  He said I'm taking you deeper.  I didn't really get the meaning of that and just continued on my (not so) merry way.  After lunch my friend Heidi called, I had forgotten my leftovers at her place.  Normally I would just swing by in the late afternoon, but that day I welcomed the opportunity to escape.  After blahing all over her (so thankful for a friend who can handle my raving!) and chilling for more than the appropriate 'be back in a bit' timeline I gave my family, I headed back.  Again the Spirit whispered to me 'I wish you would talk to me like you do with Heidi'.  Guilty as charged.  I'm notorious for laying out my thanks and helps before the Father but rarely do I go deeper than that.  Myriads of reasons, but none hold any merit.

'God, you've got to give me your strength and love because I've got none to offer to that man I married'.  I walked in the door and Phil says welcome back but without a smile on his face.  Still wounded I sarcastically shoot back to 'not be so welcoming or I might just want to stay'.  Again grabbed by the Spirit to love that man I came back into the room telling him that I thought he was mad by the look on his face.  Phil apologized that his face didn't relay what his words and intentions were.  A sorely needed balm to my soul right there those words were.

I'm not sure when, but sometime within the next day I heard on the radio that marriage is not intended to be what you get out of it, but what you give to your spouse.  Aaaand there's the 2x4 moment.  This relationship isn't about him cooking for me, picking up his socks (but that would be nice!), or being my prince charming.  Sure those are all lovely and noble attributes and I love when he loves me, but that's not the point of marriage.  I am to be Phil's helpmeet and God is to be my everything.  I need to follow the example of Christ and love my man even through our unloveable moments.

I really wish that there was a way to impress upon this surface the depth and feeling of the emotions that have surrounded this story.  The song still speaks deeply to me and is charged with a message of more oceans to come.  I have only started swimming.

Land Saga

It has been brought to my attention that I haven't written about our land.  Not sure how that slipped through my fingers as it's story is quite large in our lives!

For a few years now, our family has shared the dream to buy a little farm and live as much off of the land as possible.  For a long time it was just talk, and dreams, and more talk.  Then we started looking.  Checking landwatch.org, realtor.com, even craigslistings.  Not finding anything that was remotely in our price range I wondered if I was missing something.  I contacted my friend who designs homes for her husbands construction business.  I found out that I was doing it right, but when I mentioned our price range she told me that they had a little piece of land that fit my description and she'd talk to her husband about selling it to us.

We met up with them and their land, and were pretty excited, it was just what we were looking for.  The initial offer was a bit more than we liked but considering it was on the edge of town it was worth pursuing.  Then just as quickly as it started it was over.  They had second thoughts and decided that they weren't ready to part with the land.  I was bummed, but it just renewed our resolve to keep looking.

A few months later for our tenth anniversary, Phil gave me a picture of a farm painting that we had seen at an art museum in Kansas City.  On the back he had written 'may all our dreams come true'.  I insisted that he hang it over our bed to inspire us to not give up as we were starting to think that perhaps this would be more of a later in life opportunity.

Fast forward a half a year, with the garden in full swing I was checking quite frequently for land as the dream was burning bright.  I saw a craigslisting--five acres for $28,000 12 miles from Grand Island--probably a scam but just in case not I quickly sent a message to Phil in the off chance that it was valid.  He returned from camp the next day and promptly went out to investigate the acreage as the owner happened to be available.  I was impressed that the gal was home (July 3) and willing to show someone around.  The report was a bit dismal.  A hayfield.  No trees.  No house.  No well.  Nothing.  Just a hayfield the owner wanted to sell to finance her daughter's college classes.

I wasn't really that interested, after all my dreams included lots of mature shade trees for me to sit under and watch the kids play.  Besides we couldn't afford to build a house!  Not on a one income household.  With that one income being teachers' wages.  Phil was insistent that we could.  He also said that there are always compromises in real estate.  According to Phil our dreams were like a triangle there were the points of location, price, land.  We couldn't get them all in our price range and to get two out of three was a good deal.

Phil spoke with some realtors and found out that this was an amazing price for land, even if it was completely undeveloped.  Then Phil started wooing me over to the idea.  We could build a home inside a quoncet.  If we do most of the work ourselves, we can make it work with our budget.  Being the visual learner I am, Phil got to work on a home designing program and drew up our dream home.  Then he did the layout for the land.  At first it drove him bonkers to have zero parameters to work with as a hayfield is a complete blank slate.  Now he really appreciates the fact that we get to design everything the way we want it to be.  Where the orchards will go.  The berry patches, vineyards, garden, chickens, maybe even a cow and pig.  A blank slate is as exciting as it is exhausting.  You can run yourself ragged with ideas we have learned.

It was slightly terrifying signing all the papers that go along with buying real estate.  It didn't seem quite real that we are owners of five acres until the first mortgage payment hit.  I'm sure that Dave Ramsey would cringe to know that we now make two mortgage payments, but as Phil put it sometimes you have to stretch yourself for your dreams and take that leap of faith.  Our faith has been tested, but that story is for another day.

So what's the plan now you ask?  Right now we are slowly working at fixing all those little things that need to happen before selling a home.  We're hoping to be ready by early springtime to put it up on the market.  We'll move in with Phil's mom for a few months (good thing we all love each other so much or this would never work!) while pre-construction things are happening like the driveway being put in, a well and septic dug, power lines brought in, and a foundation poured.  We figure by then it will be summer and we will start building our little dream home.  The goal is to be done and ready by the end of next summer, which we realize might be a bit lofty but we've got to have something to shoot for!

There you have it, the beginning saga of a girl who leads a slow paced life and doesn't like changes is willingly embarking upon a journey that will most assuredly change her life.