All I can think about...

... is ICE CREAM! I know that doing a Whole30 is a pretty cliche thing in January. But I'm doing it. 5 days down! And I didn't really have any noticeable carb-flu because I really cut back on sugar going through the last two weeks of December. 

And I haven't really been cooking up too much photo-worthy food, I more just been trying to eat something "approved" so my stomach doesn't eat a hole through my back! Elliott's been a champ making me compliant food when I'm too busy taking kids to the gym or too unmotivated to make anything more than a plate full of cold leftovers. 

The most exciting new thing I came up with (out of desperation) was pan seared sweet potato slices. I meant to roast them, but got behind in juggling the cooking of my food with the cooking of the kids' food and never got them in the oven. So, a little olive oil and salt and into the pan they went. It was hard not to keep the children out of my delish side dish! 

I went to kickboxing on Monday, and spent all day Tuesday wincing every time I did anything reminiscent of a squat. Then, tonight, I went to play a game with a 4x4 co-ed volleyball league, the first of 6 weeks of games on Tuesday night. I'm super competitive, which may play into why I felt convinced that I could hang with this league after over 20 years of not playing, but it was so fun! My forearms are all bruised up, my quads are even more sore thanks to "ready position", and I'm fully aware that I am 22 years older than I was the last time I played volleyball. I can't wait for next week. 

The kids and I are memorizing the "Fighter Verses" this year, so far we're good to go with Deuteronomy 7:9. And I grabbed a copy of the Bible Study our church's women's group is going through. I can't make the official meetings, but two friends and I are going to go through it together. 

Just a little snapshot of our first few days of 2016. Plano feels like home a little more everyday. God continues to show His faithfulness and lovingkindness towards me. 

Lovely 1st day...

Well, the first day of 2016 is wrapping up, which is also means I've almost survived the first day of strict clean eating of my first ever Whole30. I even avoided a near miss as I was running errands and was tempted to swing through the Chick-fil-a drive thru for waffle fries because I found myself starving mid-afternoon (apparently my 3-minute Paleo Porridge just didn't fill me up for lunch). Instead I grabbed an apple and a handful of pecans when I got home and then got right to work on making dinner. 

Roasted Pork Tenderloin

Roasted Sweet Potato Chunks

Sautéed Mushrooms

Sautéed Brussel Sprouts & Onions

Besides thinking about food today, I had a great coffee and chat with a new friend in Frisco. Hannah and I went shopping to fulfill her Christmas present from Elliott and I, a "Mommy date" and some new clothes. And we're starting the 6th Star Wars movie in preparation for going to see the 7th in the theater tomorrow morning. 

Happy New Year! 

A new beginning...

It's been nearly a year since I picked up my copy of The Whole30. I've read it, thought about it, decided that since I can't figure out what to feed my crew from meal to meal, I probably couldn't make it. Then I realized I should just start. Keep it simple. The kids can add on to whatever I make. Or, since most can cook a little, they can make their own food. It's only 30 days. 

And so, the whole house is sleeping, so I made my first Whole30 breakfast. I made extra so I can have leftovers. And it was yummy. 

When you don't know what to say...

You may have noticed my absence in bloglandia, but then again, I'm not sure anyone reads this, so you may not have. :) Whatever the case, after our move I just couldn't find the words to describe the myriad of emotions swirling around in my heart. I still can't nail them all down, but I'm finally ready to talk about one aspect of this move that has been the hardest.

Moving is hard in many ways. Physically it is demanding as you pack and sort and move things into place. Mentally it is exhausting as you run through to-do lists and figure out all the nuances of your new area. Emotionally you face the sorrow of missing family and friends, of your routines and comforts of "home".

I've struggled to write anything here (though I've tried and deleted a number of posts) because I didn't know how to be honest about the depression that I have been fighting ever since our move. I've gone through nearly a hundred hours of Biblical Counseling training, I've counseled friends fighting depression, I've read the books on Christians and Depression, I honestly believe and trust that God has placed us here, and been gracious in so many ways here. But I've still fought it. And like any war, I've won some battles, and lost others.

The truth is, I have good days and bad days. The truth is, I recognize with all my heart that we are right where the Lord wants us, He orchestrated this move, He gave us our home, He placed us in a part of town that is close to so many things that it's sometimes embarrassing to talk about because I feel so richly spoiled. But there is also the truth that I left some of the most amazing people in the entire world; friends who would drop everything to come cry with me in sorrow, encourage me in trials, minister to me in suffering, laugh and tell silly stories with me over coffee, and our families who we'd normally not go more than a few days without seeing. And to a girl who didn't have a true friend in the world besides her mom until her late twenties, leaving my home and friends was like cutting off my right arm. And maybe my left arm too.

Today was a bad day, I physically couldn't get out of bed until almost 11am, and even when I did finally drag myself out from under the covers, I didn't actually get dressed for another 4 hours. I have no idea if my children did any school work today, for most of the day I didn't care, if there had been a deep dark hole away from everything, I would have crawled in it. I knew I couldn't stay there, so I spent a lot of time reminding myself of all the blessings we have, recounting all the ways the Lord has shown Himself faithful, trying to pull myself out of my "funk". And then there was this "ah ha" moment. Immediately, I recognized the pattern of my "ups and downs" on this journey, and it was a comfort to see the hope ahead.

After visiting a few churches in our first month here, Elliott and I decided on the church we wanted to attend, and recently went to the New Members Class and we are pursuing membership. We feel home at this church, I even found a "loud" friend, as well as an older woman I feel comfortable being transparent with, Elliott has even met a few guys, and the kids are settling in well. Tonight, we were scheduled to have one of the Pastors come over to share our testimonies and ask questions, and I was really excited to have them over. But when I awoke feeling that anvil of depression, I really begged God to show me why. It was then that I realized that joining a new church was a step towards settling here, which naturally means saying goodbye to a piece of home. That's when the lightbulb went on, and I saw the pattern, that even in blessing, every event that makes our new city feel like home means that I am having to let go of a little piece of "back home", and my heart aches.

I don't imagine that recognizing this pattern will mean that the hard days will magically disappear, but I do think that God allowing me to see this pattern was a gift. God showered His grace on me when I needed it most, reminding me that He brought us here, encouraging me that when you love well, there will be sorrow in loss, but also showing me that He is moving here, changing me, and holding me close. Tears will still fall, but He will comfort. 

For my "back home" friends, I hope you know that our doors are always open and there's lots of fun stuff to do here. For my "new home" friends, I'd love to have you over for a coffee. :)

Those moments...

We've been on this homeschooling journey for over 10 years now. When I started teaching my oldest (now 13), I jumped at every glimmer of indication that she was ready to learn something. When she'd pretend to read a book because she had it memorized, and ask me to tell her the sound of this letter and that letter and ask me every day to teach her to read, we started reading lessons at 3 years old. When tears fell during lessons, both of us frustrated, both of us clueless about why she couldn't remember what "a" said from one lesson to the next, I wondered what was wrong with my teaching or even worse, my kid. When she started counting everything in sight, apples, blocks, toy cars, I began playing math games with her, then found myself growing irritated because the math facts I was teaching her didn't "stick". She eventually learned to read, though was reluctant and shy for a long time, and she learned to add and subtract, yet she struggled thinking she was terrible at math. Tears shed through these pioneer days caused me to seek better ways. 

During those early years, I read and reread different homeschooling "experts", I struggled with who I believed, what style of homeschooling fit my kids as students and me as a teacher. I wrestled between feeling encouraged by all my blog surfing research one moment, and devestatingly discouraged the next by the picture perfect homeschool days that I'd read hoping for inspiration. 

Somewhere along the line, through trial and error, blood, sweat and tears, piles of curriculum and many moments of hand wringing, I figured out who I was and am as a homeschooler, as a mom. One thing that has changed since the early years, is that I have figured out that the lightbulb moments happen for each child at their own time regardless of whether I push them to tears or wait patiently, even when well meaning folks start whispering "shouldn't he" or making the occasional  "you would think" comments. What I've also discovered is that pushing a child who isn't ready brings tears and frustration to both mom and child. Yet, providing a rich learning environment, giving kids room to soak up, enjoy and explore while awaiting the "lightbulb" moment, results in a quiet cheerfulness even if it does mean we sometimes end up waiting for break-throughs longer than "normal". 

Today was one of those days, seemingly normal by all accounts, we spent the day catching up on school work, doing chores, playing outside. In the evening, Micah was showing Elliott how he had learned to tie his shoes when Grandma Joyce had visited this weekend. Caleb looked on, having never been interested in tying his own shoes before. Now, he was suddenly motivated. Something I've offered to teach for years without any interest was learned in less than three minutes with smiles and giggles. 

I'm not always perfect at this relaxed approach, I get frustrated at not being able to explain a topic sufficiently, or I become impatient in the waiting. I struggle to tell the difference between a lack of understanding or a handful of laziness. But then a moment like this happens, and I'm reminded to keep persevering, keep hoping for understanding, keep praying for my children. 

Little glimpses...

I've not been able to articulate all the thoughts percolating around in my head. And I haven't done a fantastic job of photographically chronicaling our adjustment to North Texas. But here's a few glimpses into what we've been doing. 

While the twins were at practice and we were still living in the hotel, we tried finding a Kohl's without taking the toll roads. We got lost and found this really cool pond that had at least fourty turtles in it. 

I love how many push-ups Noah has to do at TaeKwonDo. He's learning a lot about self-discipline. 

Our first trip to the laundromat. Caleb and Micah were enthralled by the huge washers and dryers. 

While we waited for the movers, the kids tried out their new tree. Plans for reading in the tree, eating in the tree, hiding in the tree, were made by all. 

21,000 pounds. I'm still in shock by that number. And especially grateful for all the purging I did over the last year or so. I've come across very few items that I thought, why did I bring that. Because of the purging, it was more like "welcome home". I wish they could have just weighed the books, I wonder how much my paper friends contributed to that crazy weight! 

And now, let's begin. :) 

The church we began attending had a Foundation Dedication party and handed out Sharpies. We've actually settled on this church after visiting a few. I'm so glad we went, our little "mark" on the foundation will soon be covered with flooring, but it's neat to remember all the prayers and blessings soaked into that foundation. 

Our first of three major trips to IKEA. If we were to move again anytime soon, we'd weigh a lot more. :) 

Friends came to help with unpacking. We spent one morning acting like animals at the Dallas Zoo. 

A free Andrew Peterson concert!!! 

Getting to the book boxes slowed me down significantly. I really want things to make sense as they get put away. I'm not sure when I'll ever finish the books. 

We found a living history farm and museum near our house. We spent the day there with some new friends on Friday. 

Hannah has always wanted to see Matilda since she participated with CYT. When we saw it was coming to Dallas, we bought tickets. It was a great show! 

Current state of my art and science bookshelf. I'm off to try to make a little more sense of it. :) 

How we got here...

For 37 years, I lived less than 25 miles from where I was born. Try as I might to convince my mom to put in for an overseas job, we never moved. All through college, I dreamed about striking it out on my own, but I never left my home. In the early years of our marriage, Elliott and I discussed where we would be willing to move, and where we'd never want to move, and yet we stayed close. After we started our family, moving away was pulled off the table, we settled in and got comfortable. We were surrounded by friends, and family, and God blessed us with amazing neighbors as we rooted and grew in our little home in Cibolo.

I never thought it would happen in a million years, yet it did, God showed us it was time to move. It started in the Spring with a prompting in my heart to encourage Elliott to find a position he could be passionate about, even if that meant moving. And then, the Lord tested my resolve for the next six months, as opportunities rolled in from New York and California, New Jersey and Kentucky, Dallas and Los Angeles. Some days, my heart was excited about all the new possibilities. Other days, I felt paralyzed not knowing how to live in the now while we waited for news on the future.

One July morning, as my heart was heavy from the months of waiting and the weeks of excitement (Elliott had been flying to a handful of final interviews), I was pulling weeds in the front yard and I cried out to God for answers. I told God that I didn't care what the answers were, I prayed for Him to make our path straight, to give us clarity and direction. I never could have imaged what would happen next...

Tuesday, July 14th, was the morning I prayed in the garden. Less than an hour later, Elliott texted that he didn't get the Kentucky job. The news took my breath away, but I immediately thanked God for His quick answer to my heart-felt prayer. A little while after lunch, Elliott came home early. We were leaving for a vacation the next day, so I assumed he came home early to help pack. But I was wrong. He was fired. Again, shock hit me, but it didn't take long for me to see this news as God further granting my request for clarity and direction. An hour later, Elliott got a call for a lunch meeting with a company in Dallas. We were going to Dallas the next day for vacation. God's mercy and kindness was overwhelming to me, we still didn't have all the answers, but we could see God moving.

Elliott had a great lunch with the folks in Dallas, and even got a call the next day for references. Before we headed home from our vacation on Sunday, we drove around to a few suburbs I had checked out on the web to see where we would want to live if we got the job. We expected to hear a decision by Monday, so when no call came, we both felt a little crushed and disappointed. I realize now what the Isrealites must have felt like, seeing the LORD be faithful to rescue them through the Red Sea to then doubt His care for them as they grew hungry and thirsty.

Tuesday, July 21st, the call came in, and Elliott accepted the position in Dallas. They offered us a generous relocation package and we had to get things moving quickly because Elliott needed to report to work in three weeks. I had already been plodding along to get the house ready to put on the market, now it was just a matter of getting it listed and jumping through the hoops of the relocation. By Sunday, we had all our kids tucked away with friends and family and Elliott and I hit the road on a house-hunting trip.

We saw two homes Sunday night and had a full slate of homes to see on Monday. We saw some lovely homes that were just not "us", and then we saw some awful homes, and a few in between. Then, we opened the door to our last house before lunch and we both knew, this was the house. We were like giddy school kids, we had our realtor call while we stood in the kitchen. There was another offer on the home, they'd take offers through 10pm. We were in a bidding war. We made our offer, even wrote up a little note about what a blessing it would be to our family to be chosen, then we went to lunch, and prayed and prayed. It was a long night of waiting.

Tuesday, July 28th, our realtor called us before 7am to let us know that we had won the bidding war. The house was ours. My head was spinning, I felt so overwhelmed with thankfulness. It was such a relief to know that even though we would initially move into temporary housing, God had already secured a home for us in our new town. Now we needed to get home and sell our house.

We met with one of the relocation realtors as soon as we drove home on Wednesday, we finished getting the house show ready, had photos taken on Friday morning and we were on the market by 11:30pm Friday night. We had only one showing on Saturday at 12:15pm. But that was all we needed because we had a solid full-price offer by Saturday night.

Tuesday, August 4th, our home in Cibolo was under contract. We were just in awe of all that had occurred in the previous three weeks. We knew that God was orchestrating it all, and though my heart ached with the weight of leaving my amazing friends, and saying goodbye to family, I couldn't help but be excited for all the LORD would do in our lives in this move.

We lived in temporary housing for three weeks. We shared a stomach bug and one child got to experience the local urgent care after catching strep throat. But even still, life in close quarters was pleasant and felt more like a vacation than a trial most days. I made the trip home to meet the movers, and clean the house. God showered me with kindness, as friends stopped by with coffee and helped clean bathrooms. When I finally closed the door and whispered goodbye to my house of nine wonderful years, tears fell, but excitement also swelled in my heart, seeing God's continued faithfulness to us.

The last seven weeks have been a blur. This is our fourth week being in our new home, and while we are mostly out of boxes and have already had two different friends spend the night, we still have some settling to do. Our afternoons are predictable with gymnastics and TaeKwonDo schedules. We visited a small handful of churches and have recently decided where we will settle and plug into ministry. God has shown us mercy upon mercy, we are awed daily by His lovingkindness towards us. Tears still fall when I realize I can't just trip across town and have coffee with a friend. I miss my mom, I've never in my life gone this long without seeing her, and I think the hardest part is not the amount of time but the not being able to just drop in and visit on her couch. Even so, God has given me a peace that we are where we are supposed to be, and for that, I am thankful.