July 31

July 30

July 29: Just the Baby and I

She ate all the red and blue M&M's first. Weird, I know. She also takes the caps off of every single marker we own and puts them on her fingers like hard, plastic, colorful olives. 

The phone rang. It was Daddy.

As I watched her cook with her Play-doh at the kitchen table, I answered and said, "it's just the baby and I at home, and we miss you!"

The other kids were with grandma for the day, and the house was quiet. Without the regular whirl of activity, it was easy to discern the sounds of toddler chatter, clanging legos, and tiny feet running across the hardwood floor. Suddenly, it was like I stepped back in time to when I was a new mom, chasing a toddler around the house all day.

You're always one step behind them as you follow them around, just in time to clean up whatever they disasterized but not quite quick enough to stop them from making the mess in the first place. The clothes you spent your morning folding are now on the floor, and they've moved on to "unloading the dishwasher," i.e., putting the clean dishes back in the sink.

And although the house is filled with endless chatter, playing, learning and joy, it can be a very lonely job at times. It's hard when your only human connection during the day is two feet tall and speaks mostly gibberish. And I'm happy that I know now what I didn't back then--it's okay to take some time for you. It's actually a good thing and a necessary thing to preserve your sanity and your identity. Otherwise you can become a shell of who you once were, completely engulfed and swallowed up by the incessant needs and demands of motherhood.

I'm also finally to the place where, although part of me is still sad that the baby years are almost over, the other, larger half of me is so very glad that things like diapers and terrible twos and potty training will come to an end in the relatively near future. That I can finally see the horizon. Thank God I won't have to carry a diaper bag around for the rest of my life. Because I think if I had to deal with diapers and poop and pottys for the next twenty years, I just may loose my mind. Many, many kudos to you day care workers and nannies. There will be a special place for you in heaven among the saints. I'm sure of it.


So if I could offer some encouragement to all the young moms who are in the thick of it, who are running on coffee and no sleep and are busy all the live long day but have nothing tangible to show for it except a beautiful little baby who is clothed and fed and still breathing:


Hang in there!! You're doing a good job!


It does get better! They do eventually speak more then just gibberish and learn how to fold laundry. But they still throw the clean clothes out of their drawers and all over their room when they get dressed. Or undressed. Sorry to burst your bubble on that one. They will learn how to use the toilet. They will have thoughts and ideas and dreams of their own, and you get the privilege of watching them develop into unique human beings right before your very eyes.


Hang in there. It's worth it. I promise.

July 28: Poor Man's Alfredo

Ruby lost her FIRST tooth tonight!! Clayton lost another one, too. Busy night here for the Tooth Fairy!

I haven't posted a new recipe in a while, basically because I haven't been cooking.


What have we been eating then, you ask?


Well, I have been "cooking," which is similar to actual cooking, except without the recipes and hours spent in the kitchen. It basically involves pulling something out of the fridge and slapping it on a plate, having it delivered, or throwing it on the grill. And some days, if I absolutely must, I expend the extra effort required to put something in the crock pot ahead of time, and it cooks for me. Peanut butter and jelly, lots and lots of hot dogs {if you happen to notice my children glowing in the dark, this is probably why}, fruits and vegetables, lunch meat, hummus, pasta, cheese quesadillas, pizza, salad, and grilled chicken. Between baseball games/practice almost every night this summer and the thought of dragging four children to the grocery store, that's really the best I could manage.


Summertime food motto: If it ain't cheap, quick, and easy, it ain't happening.


But I came up with a random but very tasty concoction at lunch today that was instantly a HUGE hit, so I thought I'd pass it along. I called it Poor Man's Alfredo, because whether you can't afford the time it takes to make gourmet Alfredo sauce or you think the traditional ingredients are too expensive or you just don't feel like running out to the store, this recipe is for you. Instead of heavy cream, which I never seem to have on hand, this recipe uses the cheaper and more readily available substitute of milk and cream cheese. And at the first bite, it was unanimously kid-approved. :)

Poor Man's Alfredo

1 lb pasta cooked al dente

4 T butter

4 oz. cream cheese, cubed

1 cup whole milk

4 oz. Aged cheese {Parmesan, Romano, or Asiago}, shredded

Garlic powder, salt, pepper to taste

Cook the pasta of your choice according to the package instructions, reserving 1 cup of the pasta water before straining. Do not rinse or oil the pasta. Using the same pot or another heavy bottomed skillet, add the butter, cream cheese, and milk into the pot and whisk together on medium-low heat until combined. Slowly add in the shredded aged cheese, whisking continually. Once cheese melts and sauce thickens, add garlic powder, salt and pepper. Add the pasta back in and stir to combine with the sauce. Add reserved pasta water as necessary if sauce is too thick. Serve immediately. Great topped with grape tomatoes, balsamic drizzle, and grilled chicken breast. 

Enjoy!

July 27

In case you happen to be looking for a Campbell's Tomato Soup substitute to go with your grilled cheese sandwich, this Dei Fratelli canned tomato sauce was a tasty swap! No artificial colors, flavors, preservatives, or HFCS. :) And zero extra effort--actually probably less effort--I just served the sauce as is, warmed up a bit. Happy kids, happy mom, and extra-super-picky-eater approved.

July 26

July 25

July 24: A Cucumber is a Fruit??

Ok, so please tell me that I'm not the only one who didn't know that a cucumber is technically a fruit?? It is. An 11 year old told me that today, and I didn't believe him. So I asked Google, because that's what I do when I don't know something. And Google agreed. 

According to the Mayo Clinic: 

The following are technically fruits: avocado, beans, peapods, corn kernels, cucumbers, grains, nuts, olives, peppers, pumpkin, squash, sunflower seeds and tomatoes.

Who knew. 

Apparantly I'm not smarter then a 6th grader. You learn something new every day. That's what the 6th grader said.

And on a related note, from these photos it seems that I survive on a steady diet of banana peppers, which are, as it turns out, a FRUIT. The 6th grader told me that he loves banana peppers, too. Back off, kid. You may have taken my pride, but you will have to pry the banana peppers from my cold, dead fingers. 

July 23: Boom! Pow! Bat Day at the Library!!

Did you know that it's the 75th Anniversary of the Caped Crusader, also known as Batman? I didn't either, until today. Aunt Amanda invited us to the Bat Day at the library, knowing that we have a full-blown Bat Fan who lives under our roof. He went in complete costume today. :) 

And as far as libraries go, this one was AWESOME! It's the Westlake Porter Library, and it's a separate entity from the local library systems. The library is complete with a Cafe and Gift Shop inside, and you're allowed to bring in your own food and beverages {coffee!!} to enjoy anywhere in the library. Not only is it enormous, but it has an proportionately large children's section, complete with a train table, toys, puzzles, board games, crayons and paper, dress up/imaginary play stuff, computer games, and a bristle block table {although those are as ancient as my childhood, I had to Google "blocks with tiny spikes that stick together" to find the name, and as always, Google delivers}. It was partially walled off to prevent noise from traveling is my guess, but not once while we were there did I feel like the children were being a nuisance simply by being children.

I was thrilled to finally find a library where I felt genuinely welcome with kids. Since Clayton has tutoring at the library, we have spent a fair amount of time there. Although the kids seem to enjoy looking for books and playing, it's an incredibly stressful time for me. This is probably partly due to past traumatic experiences at the library, which include but aren't limited to: 

• Being kicked out due to a screaming, running, defiant toddler while also trying to carry a carseat, diaper bag, and bag of library books. This one experience was a gem. Imagine me, red faced with embarrassment as I get with my Irish/Polak complexion, in a stand-off with my screaming son--him on one side of a book stack, me on the other, desperately trying to figure out how to catch him and run the heck out of there before more damage was done. Then imagine a librarian coming over to me and saying, "You really need to leave…He can't be screaming like that in the library." Really??????? I hadn't noticed. Then imagine me not stepping foot in said library for at least a year.

• The time that I stepped away from my children, who were playing calmly and quietly, for a matter of two minutes to find a book to read myself on a road trip, only to glance to my left and see my school-aged son {same one, just older now, mind you} lapping the stacks and laughing, while he encouraged his siblings to do the same. He's much harder to catch this time, and once I got him, I had to get the other two, as well. And then imagine me trying to keep them still long enough to have them all corralled at once. Imagine that this process takes a miserably long while, and I'm veeeeryy red in the face. Then imagine a librarian coming up to me towards the end of the herding process and saying, "Oh no… There is absolutely no running allowed in the library…" Again, really????? There are certain obvious facts that you should not state to an overwhelmed mother. Then imagine me never wanting to come back to the library ever again, at least with certain children.

So, there's that. But then I also feel like they have a children's section, and toys, but the kids can't really PLAY with the toys. Any play that involves speaking above a whisper, laughing, or noise of any kind, that is. The entire time we are there, I feel like I need to SHHHH!!! them and correct them and remind them to BE QUIET!!, to which they respond, "Mom, we're just playing!" or "Mom, we're just being kids!" And on some level, that breaks my heart. Because they are just kids, but somehow that's not okay there. Or I feel like it isn't. So it was really nice to find a library where it was okay, even encouraged, that they played and explored and were kids.

They also had a TON of books for sale, newer even and in excellent condition, and I was happy to find a copy of a book I'd renewed ad nauseam but never finished and a copy of the 2014 Writers Market Guide, which I've heard is must-have if you're seeking to get published, each for $1. That's a STEAL considering the $30 cover price {each!}. I'm excited to dig into them sometime soon. Anyone want to pay me to blog or write a book????? :)

Have you had any traumatic library experiences? Do tell. :)

July 22

July 21

July 20: Job Opening: In Search of Dishes Fairy

That moment you figure out that your house smells kinda funny because there's a pan of who knows what that has been buried for who knows how long at the bottom of your kitchen sink. And you try to wash it quickly without puking. Because that won't make the house smell any better. 

Gross.

I have this thing where I "do the dishes," which in Jacqui-speak is "I put everything that I could possibly fit in the dishwasher and ran it, and I left whatever didn't fit in the sink. For later." But the problem is, there are several LARGE pots, pans, and bowls that don't fit in the dishwasher, or wouldn't get clean that way, so sometimes they just live in the sink for a loooong time. Until I need to use them again. Or until we have people over, in which case I shove them all into the oven. 

#noyoucantusetheoven #sorry #itsbroken

Don't judge. My system is a well-oiled machine. And I need to hire a dishes fairy. #stat

How would that work, anyways? Would the dishes fairy know that they need to stop by the night dishes start falling out of the overflowing sink onto the floor, much like the tooth fairy knows they need to come when a tooth falls out of one's mouth? Or maybe when we put the dirty dishes into the oven. If that's not a cry for help, I don't know what is...

I think I might have a line on one, actually. His name is Clayton, and he can start tomorrow. I'll let you know how that goes.

July 19: Mom, the Garbage Can is on Fire

Women's event + Wings = a good day in my book. :)

P.S. Ben was not so fortunate. Our day started with a fire in the garbage can {you get ONE GUESS as to the culprit} and me running half dressed down the stairs to extinguish it {thankfully!} with a few bowls of water. When I think about pleasant ways to start a Saturday morning, the words, "Mom, the garbage can is on fire," really isn't near the top of my list. 

And then I left to speak at the Ladies Breakfast, after I finished getting dressed, of course.

See ya later suckas! 

Just kidding. 

Kind of. 

Let's just say that the day didn't get much better for him while I was gone. He's never going to let me leave the house again, and I wouldn't blame him!! But when your day starts with a fire in the garbage can, before 9 a.m., what do you expect?!?!?

The devil is in those details, my friend. I'd like to tell that guy where he can go and what he can do with all THAT. The war is truly not against flesh and blood... 

I thank God that He who is in me is greater then he who is in the world. And He has overcome.

July 18

Last day of VBS, free Frostys, bike riding, lunch a-la-fridge-leftover-shmorgesborg {it's a thing, I swear. And I slaved all day in the kitchen for this meal.}, more earthworms then I have ever seen in my life, a Friday night baseball game, and set-up for the Ladies Breakfast with the cutest helper ever. What a full day!!

July 17: True Obedience Doesn't Have Conditions

There was a bona fide game of "Cops and Robbers" going on today, and they played ALL afternoon.
Those are the days...

Yesterday, Clayton learned how to ride a bike. And really there was no learning, he just kind of hopped on the bike and rode it down the driveway. Just like that. He apparently has been ready for a while. The boy was in heaven the rest of the afternoon. He LOVED it and was excited that he picked it up so easily. We live on a fairly quiet street traffic-wise, even though it's in the city, so I gave him permission to ride up and down our street with his friend. He was supposed to turn around at the stop sign and come back, and he did just that for quite a while, learning some tips and tricks on bike riding from his friend as he went back and forth.

Until he didn't. Instead of turning around at the stop sign, he turned the corner and disappeared.

He told me he didn't stay where he was supposed to because he had to make sure his friend, who lives around the block, got home ok. So I explained again how he needed to listen no matter what so that he could build some trust. And I gave him another chance. Only a short while later when Ben got home, he was nowhere to be found once again. I had to walk all the way around the block to retrieve him from his friend's house, nervous with every step that something had happened to him. Until I found him, that is, and then the nervousness quickly turned to anger. His reason this time was that everyone else was looking for a lost cat, and he had to help find it, too.

He was in big trouble. At that point he lost his bike for the night, of course, and he was devastated. He kept trying to justify and excuse his disobedience, utterly convinced that he didn't do anything wrong. After all, in his mind, both times he was trying to do a good thing and help his friends.

He woke up this morning with the bike on his mind, so I let him ride it a little before we left. He was allowed to ride it in the driveway, as I had several things to do before we left and couldn't sit outside and watch him. We have a nice, long paved driveway, so it didn't completely kill his fun. I emphasized the importance of listening after last night's breech of trust, and he assured me that he understood and would obey.

As I'm running around the house, brewing coffee, and gathering our things to head out for the day, I glance out the front window just in time to see him ride out of the driveway into the road, making a wide turn before heading back towards the driveway again. It's a wonder that human nature still surprises me, but it definitely still gets me every once in a while. I couldn't believe he left the driveway.

I opened the front door to tell him that he's lost the bike for now, no questions asked, and he proceeds to argue the fact that the end of the driveway is too narrow to turn around in and that he had to turn around in the road to avoid getting hurt or falling over.


And that's when I realized what was going on. In his mind, obedience had conditions. Fine print.


A clause that stated, it's okay to leave my street if I need to help my friends. Another stipulation that read, it's okay to ride in the road if I can't turn around in the driveway.



That realization opened the door to an excellent discussion, and he's done a much better job respecting the boundaries this afternoon.


I gotta say though, as difficult and frustrating as these kinds of things are with kids, I do love how it opens my eyes to how we interact with God as our Father. How many conditions of my own do I place on my obedience to the Lord?? 



"The counterfeit of obedience is a state of mind in which you create your own opportunities to sacrifice yourself, and your zeal and enthusiasm are mistaken for discernment."  Oswald Chambers



Take a few minutes and digest that quote--it's a powerful one!! I think I audibly gasped the first time I read it, because there is so much truth there. The fallen nature of humans and the deceitfulness of the heart never cease to amaze me. True obedience doesn't have conditions, but we put them in place every day.



I'll obey you, God, unless I read something in the Bible that I don't agree with.

I'll go anywhere you want me to go, God, unless you want me to go to Africa. Then I'm out. 

I'll do whatever you want me to do with my life, God, unless it means working with those people. You know the ones.

I'll obey you, God, unless it means ending this relationship, and I just don't think I can do that.

I'll follow you, God, unless you ask me to give up __________________. 

I'll obey you, God, unless...



What conditions are you placing on your obedience to the Lord? Whatever those conditions are, they are very things that you currently value more then Him {i.e., idols}. He's not calling us to second-rate obedience--He's calling us to complete obedience, without conditions, clauses, fine print, or stipulations.



At the end of the day, we all need to ask ourselves, is God enough?



God alone. Is He really enough? If he truly is, we would obey Him to the ends of the earth and back, without conditions. 

July 16

Clayton learned to ride his bike today! 

When Toby bit into his apple and got some of it stuck between his teeth, he came running inside and said, "Mom! Help! I got some apple stuck in the betweens, and I can't get it out!"

July 15: A Giant, Sticky Ball of Stress

Today I learned, when mandating some reading be completed before any TV watching, that I'm "boring, mean, and must not care at all." Today I also learned that if you're the meanest most boring mom ever in the whole entire universe, you must be doing something right. 

The latter half of yesterday was just one of those days. I was mad, mad, mad at everyone and plain old crabby. It was one of those days where I completely let the circumstances control my attitude and responses. And I should've bit my tongue as the circumstances stacked up against me; I should've walked away like I did the other day. At some point I should've just said ENOUGH and stopped trying to fit too much stuff into not enough time.

But do you ever feel like it's out of control and you can't stop it? Because that's how I felt. I felt like this frenzied ball of stress, and once the ball of stress got rolling, I couldn't even think straight let alone stop it. The ball of stress was big, and probably even sticky, like a giant wad of gum that gets stuck on the bottom of your shoe. A big enough wad to get you stressed out in the first place.

Then the dog runs away and you can't catch him or get him to come back, and the sticky ball of stress starts rolling. Along the way it picks up kids who had been playing out in the rain and are now covered in mud, whining, a baseball game that's cancelled and then not cancelled, frustration with the dog and the children, more whining, debris from a frantic run out the door to pick up dad from work, get the snack for the game that was supposed to be cancelled, and get to the game. It also manages to pick up children who can't seem to sit down and eat a meal without acting crazy and a baby pooping in the bathtub, again.

Before you know it, this sticky ball of stress is so huge and moving so fast that you don't even recognize yourself anymore. Furthermore, there is so much junk and debris that stuck to the ball as it was rolling downhill that it's disgusting, and no one wants to be around you anymore.


Anyone else ever turn into a giant ball of stress?


No?


Ya, me either. Noooo idea what that's all about...

****

After days like this, I'm so thankful for bedtime. I'm thankful for God's Word and it's ability to right our perspective unlike anything else in the world. I'm thankful that He's able to grab ahold of the biggest, stickiest, fastest, most disgusting stress balls and stop them in their tracks with His mighty hand of redemption. And I'm thankful that His mercies are new every morning and that tomorrow can be a better day.

And it was.

July 13

July 12

July 11: There's the Shark!!

For weeks now, the entrance to the highway by our house has been a construction zone. All the land on the side of the road is one big dirt pile, stretching at least a couple miles. And every day we get on the highway, Toby is convinced that he sees a shark somewhere in the dirt by the entrance ramp. 

Every time I forget about it until he yells, "There's the shark!!!"

It's a black shark. When Ruby heard that, she said, "Toby, it can't be a shark. Sharks are only grey, not black. So it's not a shark." 

Nevermind the fact that the "shark" has been sitting in a pile of dirt for the last two weeks instead of SWIMMING in the OCEAN. Oh no. It can't be a shark because it's BLACK. 

Details. Who needs 'em.

July 10: Sometimes All You Can Do Is Walk Away

I had a small revelation tonight. The kids were nuts at bedtime this evening, and I lost my religion. After some ranting and yelling and nagging, I decided all this craziness wasn't productive in the least. Even I couldn't stand myself anymore. So, wait for it...

I walked away.

I went back downstairs, sat down on the couch with the last of my cup of coffee, and proceeded to drink it by myself. All alone. Away from the chaos. I kinda didn't know I could do that. I thought for sure they would chase after me like little yipping ankle-biters. 

I read this tonight and thought about applying it, as well:

Aaaaaaand then I remembered that they are in fact my monkeys, all four of them. So that won't work. And this is my crazy circus of a life sometimes. 

I walked away, and I realized that I probably need to do so more often. They were still crazy and not going to bed when I returned, but I wasn't crazy anymore. And that, my friends, makes a BIG difference.

July 9: Don't Be a Wimp--The Road Called PAIN Will Lead to Jesus

I got in a fight with a jar of kalamata olives today. It fell off a shelf and I caught it with my face.


Olives = 1
Jacqui = 0


I'm not hoping for a rematch anytime soon, but it makes me wonder if I'm destined to leave this life with both of my front teeth intact. They've had many close calls over the years, through no direct fault of my own--they've been cracked off, glued on, cracked off again, replaced, cracked, crowned, root canaled… I have what they call PTDED: Post Traumatic Dental Experiences Disorder.


It also could be that I'm a wimp. That's a very real possibility. You see, I don't like to be uncomfortable in the least, and I certainly don't like pain. I hate being cold and not having a sweater. I hate having to sit out in the sun and be too hot. As a child, I literally kicked and screamed when doctor's visits required shots or wart removal. Ya, I was a warty kid. It went with the braces and rainbow glasses and overall awkwardness quite nicely. I cringe at the thought of novocaine, and I absolutely, positively, without a doubt got an epidural during childbirth.


And the wimpy pain stuff may just be me, but as a culture I think we've definitely bought into the idea that pain, in all forms, is bad. We are a generation who "deserves" to be happy, and we spend our lives pursuing that goal. We get rid of spouses who no longer meet that desire and replace them with a new one who does, for a time. We overeat, overspend, and overindulge in order to make ourselves feel better. We numb out, check out, and entertain ourselves to death to avoid the emptiness and pain. We work insane hours at jobs we don't like to buy stuff we don't need to keep up with everyone else who's doing the same thing because they must be happy, right?


And heaven forbid that our children aren't happy… So we give them all trophies and stuff them with sugar and pat them on the head and tell them that they're wonderful at everything and will grow up to be the President of the United States. We hover over them at school and on the playground so that they can be happy and safe and never get hurt by anyone, or worse, never fail at something and have to learn from their mistakes.


So we get sucked into this vacuum of this comfortable American life, this American Dream, that exalts happiness above all else, but what we're left with is entitlement, ungratefulness, and an insatiable desire for more stuff to fill the void. Again.



And I'm as guilty as the next wimp, er, guy.



Without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him. Hebrews 11:6



I remember the day that verse cut me straight to the heart. The day that I looked at my life and saw only comfort and safety in the place where faith and risk used to thrive. The day that I realized that I hadn't had true faith in a long time, because I couldn't remember the last time that I took a risk. A real risk, one where I couldn't reasonably calculate what the outcome would be. I couldn't remember the last time I stepped out beyond myself, off the ledge, into the space where God lives and let Him work in a way that He only could when I was in that place without the ground beneath my feet. With nothing left to catch me but Him. In a place where if He didn't catch me, I'd be in big trouble. That place is called FAITH. And I hadn't been there in a while.


Faith cried, GET OUT OF YOUR DADGUM COMFORT ZONE AND TAKE A REAL RISK FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE!


At least that's what it said to me. And I gotta be honest, it sounded a little like Tow Mater. We are Americans, after all…


But seriously. Maybe that's where you are today, too. It's so easy to get there. The world tells us to be comfortable and happy. To plan, to play it safe. To avoid pain at all costs. And those things in and of themselves aren't bad, but they are when they replace faith. God's thoughts are higher then ours, and they don't always make sense to us. He might ask us to take risks that defy logic and seem backwards, but when we obey in faith, He will show up because He is good and faithful. He will catch us. And we will experience the Living God. 


The LIVING GOD.


"Don't dry their tears too quickly, for they need the pain to run to Jesus."


God wants to work in our pain and discomfort, but we need to let Him. And that's hard to do because that means we need to feel it and experience it and work through it and walk along the road called Pain until we get to Jesus. If we keep walking, we will get there. And He will use our pain to do great and mighty things for His glory. Not a tear will be wasted. It's a promise.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. Jeremiah 29:11-13

Disclaimer: The rant-like nature of this post is probably due to the fact that I'm running on very little sleep because of a cute toddler who shall not be named. I have no plausible excuse for the randomness.

July 8

Change begins with a whisper. {the Help}

July 7

July 6

July 5: A Poem: Dancing Embrace

If you were at WalMart tonight and heard what sounded like a group of dying pigs, it was my children playing incessantly with the dog toys. That was actually slightly better then being stuck in the car with them in their post-holiday state of over-tiredness during the Home Depot run. 

The morning after fireworks and festivities comes just as early as any other ordinary morning. In fact, it seems to come even earlier. The children burst into our bedroom in the wee hours of the morning with loud voices, completely oblivious to the fact that we had been sleeping peacefully. The door begins revolving as they come and go, asking about cookies and TV, staying to snuggle a bit and springing back up to run out again. Some days I have every last one of them piled up in the bed with me after Ben has left for work, but I really enjoy mornings like this. Mornings where I can snuggle with the littles as long as they stay, and when the middle of the bed is vacant again, I can slide back across the empty space and snuggle with my husband once more.


Back in college I took a Marriage & Family class, and I vividly remember a chart that displayed statistics on the level of marital satisfaction throughout the duration of a marriage. As you can imagine, there's normally a high level of satisfaction at the beginning of the marriage, but then satisfaction takes a sharp dip during the child-rearing years and slowly proceeds to climb out of that valley and increase as the children grow up and leave the home. Now, this is a generalization, of course, but I remember thinking...



Wow, I didn't realize how much stress children could put on a marriage relationship.



Those would be the naive thoughts of a non-parent.


Because, being in the valley of the child-rearing years as we speak, I can personally vouch for the stress-inducing characteristics of those sweet, wonderful, adorable children. And not only that, but there just isn't as much time for your spouse as there was before. He (or she) who screams the loudest usually gets the attention, and there are lots of small people screaming around here. All. The. Time.


So for whatever odd reason, I was lying in bed this morning thinking about all this wonderful statistical and nostalgic information, and I began to get a picture in my head. I thought about us snuggling over the years, and how there has been more and more children snuggling with us as the time goes by. I thought about how we still hold onto each other even though we have them sandwiched between. I thought of marriage like a dancing embrace, and it went like this.

Dancing Embrace
by Jacqui Roberts

A woman is wed and becomes a wife,
and the couple begins the dance of marriage for life.
That very night at the reception,
they dance and twirl throughout the procession.
The world behind them fades away,
as they only have eyes for each other this special day.
They dance together long and close, full of passion,
forming traditions, creating memories, a bond they fashion.
Their love for one another grows their family, full of joy,
they dance and twirl together, cradling their new little boy. 

But they get tired now like they didn't before;
sometimes caring for the baby is quite like a chore.
The small life requires so much just to live,
but they love that baby and sacrificially give.
Give of their very selves, their time and their breath,
their body and life and would unto death.
They continue to dance and twirl as a family,
adjusting the steps and the sails, toddling wambly.

Three becomes four, and then five and then six,
maybe even more someday will add to the mix. 

Huddled close, they continue to hold each other tight, 

to dance together, sometimes all through the night. 

Holding six together is more difficult then two,
the marriage must bend and stretch and form anew.

The twirling sometimes is choppy at best, 

and there are many days when they all need some rest. 

There are moments it feels like their fingers are slipping, 

trying to hold it all together and at straws they are gripping. 

But there's joy in the mess, laughter and celebration, 

it's not only our arms that are bigger but our heart's admiration. 

For these little lives that have stretched us and grown us, 

that have loved us unconditionally and blessed us and known us. 

Although they'll only snuggle between us for a time, 

our lives will be forever changed once they've left the conga line. 

Our embrace will be closer and sweeter once more, 

knowing what love and life has danced inside before. 

July 4: Happy 4th!

Today was Ben's first "Baldiversary," as he shaved his head last year on this day. Lol. 

We celebrated with fireworks.

2013

July 3: The Perfect Oatmeal

We've been eating oatmeal almost daily for breakfast this week, and I do my best to make it taste like an oatmeal cookie. Because, who wouldn't want to eat an oatmeal cookie everyday for breakfast??? 

The perfect oatmeal = butter + a little brown sugar + cinnamon + dash nutmeg + vanilla. 

And if you're looking to win some brownie points, add some chocolate chips. :) 

Disclaimer: You may end up with children who have chocolate smeared on their forehead, face, hands, & clothes. But they will love it.

You're welcome.

And P.S., we did more then this today, like watched movies & played outside & went to SAMs Club & Aldi, & drank some wine after a long day, but it's like it didn't happen if there's not a photo... I swear it did. Trust me.

July 2

The Cardinals are still undefeated!! :) And on another note, we (and by we, I mean mostly my husband, but I shall take credit, as well) have kept this little flower alive for over a month now. There should be a medal for that considering my black thumb. I may have gotten a little over-zealous and over-watered it in all my over-zealousness today, so hopefully it will live on. Ruby planted the seed at school and was super excited to see it finally bloom today!! She says it's a moon flower. I have no clue.

#plantkiller

July 1