A little catching up...

I haven't been the best at blogging regularly for awhile now. I am hoping to do better in the coming months. Until then, here's a quick little photo update from the last few months. 

While we were waiting for our house to finish being built, we checked on it every Sunday after church. This time the kids played king of the gravel pit! 

The girls and I went exploring in downtown Franklin one Sunday afternoon... only to find out that in small town in the south nearly every shop was closed. So we took pictures instead. 

A Trader Joe's impulse buy turned into a wonderful, and beautiful, horticulture experiment while we were living in temporary housing in Franklin, TN.

Exploring a new nature park on a cold and rainy day. The different mosses and lichen that were growing in the dampness of new rain was spectacular.

Salamander egg sack. SO COOL!!!!

Everyone together for a trip to our new science museum. 

Our newest family members, our adopted kitties... Aslan is on the left, and Apricot is on the right.

Sleepy kitties...

Some Mother's Day silliness... at least they bought me Paleo donuts from Five Daughters Bakery first.

More donuts... this time for National Donut Day.

The kids and I traveled to Virginia and spent a week with friends doing science experiments. They videoed nearly everything, but thanks to Hannah, I have this awesome photo of an experiment they did burning different salt compounds.

Fourth of July, downtown Franklin style.

We had the opportunity to go watch fireworks in downtown Nashville, from the 21st floor of the "Batman Building". I've never been that close to a fireworks display before, nor have I ever been eye-level. It was an incredible experience.

Some fun, new artwork. Come over and see it in person! :)

A view of the sunset from my bedroom window last night. There is so much beauty here.

A clean kitchen counter... a rare sighting around my house. But a beautiful one when it happens.

A new attempt at order...

Through the years, I've attempted to create at least a hundred chore charts and cleaning schedules. There have been times that I have used them well, consistently instructing and following up with my kiddos on a job well done. Then there have been other times that the chore chart mocks me as I walk past the refrigerator, unused and forgotten.

We've been in our new home for around 3 1/2 months now. We're pretty well settled into our routines, with a relatively predictable schedule. But the house is a wreck. The kids don't seem to notice the messes they make or the clutter they produce. I want them to be creative and explore their interests. I am striving to walk in the Spirit and be laid back about the house, but I have my limits, and we've recently crossed them. So, tonight I worked on some new chore charts.

I've wrestled with the concept of giving kids an allowance for a full decade now. I have no context for knowing if an allowance helped me develop a work ethic, I had to get a job at fourteen to help make sure we could keep the water running and the electricity on. I don't want to raise spoiled children simply because we can afford to feed and clothe them without violating child labor laws. So, after much discussion, Elliot and I have decided to give the kids a weekly allowance. However, we also decided that it wouldn't be "free" money, it is tied to a weekly job and some general helping out around the house. We've got them set up with some envelopes for tithe (10%), generosity (10%), saving (40%) and spending (40%). And we've also given them permission that if they don't feel like doing their assigned jobs, they can pay someone else the money they would have received to do the task themselves. Nothing like free market enterprise, right?

Here's a sneak peek at what I've come up with... I am sure some tweaks will be needed. Some jobs are harder than others, but the jobs rotate weekly, so everyone will have a fair share at the fun... eventually.

We start tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes. :)

23,000 pounds...

I have been striving towards a practical version of minimalism for the last few years, yet despite my purging and efforts not to buy new things, the stuff we brought with us to Tennessee weighed 23,000 pounds. And I have the joy of unpacking all 23,000 pounds. And trying to figure out where the 23,000 pounds of stuff should go. And mentally calculating how many more pounds we would have moved had I not been culling through things the last few years.

It's a mental game for me, trying to figure out how to find new homes for old things. The spaces in our new home are laid out very differently than in our last home, though I love the feel and layout of our new home. Unpacking is going slowly because I am trying to be thoughtful. Some days are like a rollercoaster, as counters get cleared off only to be cluttered again as I unpack another box or realize that some place I put something didn't work out and needed to be pulled out. Other days the kids need to play more than I need to organize and strategize the unpacking.

I am looking forward to finishing the living room so that we can have a space to relax and recharge in. Then I am planning to finish the bedrooms. The loft and office scare me (if I am being honest), and the boys have no interest in unboxing Legoland in the basement (they have interest in playing with the legos, just not unpacking the fifteen or so boxes their boxes of Legos and buildings are currently residing in).

Some of you are more seasoned in the moving business. Any tips? How do you figure out where to put stuff in a new space? How quickly do you get things unpacked and put away? How much do your kids help in the process?

We're not in Kansas anymore...

Okay, let's be honest, I've only ever driven through Kansas on the way to Nebraska to visit friends. But for real, we're not in TEXAS anymore. It's weird to say it out loud. We don't live in Texas anymore. Somewhere around 30, I think I gave up the idea of every living anywhere besides my birth country state.

Yet, in a surprise turn of events, 40 has brought more than some creaky joints and thinning hair. A couple of months ago, we hitched up the wagons and made our way for Tennessee, just a tad south of Nashville. Two and a half years ago when we moved from South Texas to North Texas, I was anxious and worried about many things; leaving the only home I'd ever known, not knowing if friends I adored would still be friends beyond an Instagram like from time to time, would the kids adjust to a new location? But this move cross-country was met with much excitement and adventurousness. The first time we drove across the state line into Tennessee, my heart jumped for joy (and the kids hooted with excitement).

I love Texas. I always will. I married a Texan in Texas. I birthed my six babies in Texas. I made some of the world's most amazing friends in Texas. I am sure the kids and I brought buckets of Texas dirt with us in the crevices of our many pairs of muddy, life lived outdoors, shoes.

But I love Tennessee. In fact, I love it here so much I sometimes feel a little bit guilty, like I am not being faithful to my beloved Texas. I know that sounds silly, but I really did buy into that Texas pride thing like nobody's business.

And I do miss people. If I am being honest, I am also selfish. Seriously, if I could move all my friends here, I totally would. And I miss family, the idea of being close enough for someone to drive up, even if that rarely happened, was a comfort. But, thankfully, it's a pretty short flight, so I am hoping everyone knows that the "Vacancy" sign is hung out front anytime you want to check out the Nashville scene. Or to come hang out with us.

God has generously blessed us with a precious church, some sweet friends, kids settling into activities (albeit some kids have had to change direction from things they'd wanted to try), an amazing home, and a breathtaking landscape. Every day that I have to drive the kids to their activities, I am filled with awe of God's amazing handiwork in creation all around us.

We're excited to see what God has planned for us in this new place. We're thankful for the opportunity to follow His leading, through the mountains and the valleys. And, as previously mentioned, we're open for visitors!

When seasons change...

Every time I sit down to write something, I notice that the last time I put my fingers on the keyboard was over five months ago. I get discouraged thinking of how many words it would take to tackle all that have gone on in that time. And I struggle to just pick up from where I left off because at heart, I am a storyteller. At certain seasons in my life my stories have revolved around climbing the corporate ladder or falling in love. Spit-up and poo consistency (thank you food allergies) came next, while other times have been stories of daredevil toddlers or learning to read. We're entering into the moments where consoling an aching young heart or navigating preteen emotions have become daily fodder. Because I tend towards being a storyteller, sometimes I end up telling four back stories before I can tell one current one, simply because I see life so completely intertwined and interdependent. 

Suffice to say, things have been changing around here. I am hoping that one of those things will be that I can sit down and chronicle our life in little ways again. Whether or not anyone reads these posts, I have recently been encouraged to look back and see where God was moving all along the story of our family growing up together. From health crisis to caring for small babies, art parties to caring for dying parents, God has shown Himself faithful. 

God knows the story of the last six months. Its place isn't here. Though I'll share it with you in my kitchen if you ever want to hear it. I believe God gives you your story to share to encourage and build up His people, His Church, but I also believe that God gives wisdom and discernment and that not every story should be shouted from the rooftops. Some stories are better shared over a cup of tea, or mug of coffee. 

Laundry awaits. And I should sleep at some point. Some things haven't changed. :)

On my little bookshelf...

The purging bug has hit me, FULL FORCE. I have learned that as a mom and homeschooler that the more tidy and orderly my environment is, the better I can steward my time and my attitude in general is much better. I don't get distracted by chaos or upset that I don't have time to fix it. Achieving order usually begins with one thing, cutting back and getting rid of what is no longer useful.

Thankfully, the purging bug hit while it was still summer. The kids are doing some school right now, but it is mostly things they can do on their own, thank you Teaching Textbooks and DuoLingo.

Right now, if you texted and asked how it was going, I would send you a photo of the bookshelf I am almost halfway finished with:

If you asked to come over and see it in person, you would discover that much chaos goes into creating order:

Not only that, you'd see my growing piles of items to give away:

This will not be a quickly completed project. I am not trying to just tidy up and hope we can keep it clean. I am trying to clear out those things which are preventing us from living free from the burden of excess. We are still homeschoolers, so we will likely still possess more books than the children's section of my local library branch. But we've learned over many efforts, that we aren't huge fans of studying every detail of the Ancient World and besides Knights and Castles, we're pretty happy to skip Medieval Times and spend more of our efforts on the history of the last 300 or so years than the last 3,000. So, while I'm keeping some history books which give us an adequately broad historical perspective, I am giving away/selling/donating some of the more specific, super in-depth ones. (Please let me know if there is anything you are looking for, I might be getting rid of it!)

I do hope to have made some pretty good headway by the time we officially kick off "full school" after Labor Day. I look forward to taking a deep breath of satisfaction after dusting the last shelf, and organizing the last book. Until then, if you want to come for coffee or swimming, please still come, just step carefully around the piles.

Tea cups and clutter...

As a young mom I daydreamed about having tea parties with my girls. I don't remember playing tea party when I was growing up, but it seemed that every picture book we read about a little girl included a tea party with her three closest stuffed animal friends, so I wanted to be ready. Even sit-coms portrayed every girls under the age of seven as a precocious wee one serving up invisible tea and light as air imaginary cookies. So I bought the plastic tea set. And the porcelain one too. I even became enamored with the "tea set for one" that came out around fifteen years ago, and thinking I'd host some women's function for church at some point, I got some of those too. I made the cookies and brewed the tea. If you brew it, they will come, right?

Well, turns out, my kids would rather make a large latte than repeatedly fill a thimble sized tea cup with the stuffed animal friend they don't care about. And they'd rather have handstand walking competitions, or have a dance contest than sip lukewarm tea and chat. The tea cups and sets I have collected fill two entire cabinets and one shelf of another cabinet. They are whimsical, and cute, and currently collecting dust.

In place of fragile, breakable tea cups, we grab for sturdy, wide-mouth mason jars. We fill them with butter coffee or special latte creations, or brew some lovely herbal tea and in the crazy hectic-ness that is our day-to-day, we lose the mason jar filled to the brim with yumminess three or four times before we finish the whole thing. I let my coffee-loving kids drink coffee, and Hannah (our anti-coffee child) throws on her favorite coffee-themed shirt and sips a Chai tea. The irony of her "No Talkie Until After Coffee" shirt contrasted with her dislike of the delightful brew is noted a fresh each day.

We're in the middle of a transition right now, one that has led to some pretty major rearranging. I never just rearrange, I also cull out and contemplate what I want to do with this or that, or when was the last time I really used it. I ask myself who I want to be and what I really need. I have six little, yet growing bigger, people to consider, so I try to figure out what to keep and store and what has passed its prime. I think of the future and set aside our favorite things for the one-day-maybe-someday grandbabies.

I crave simplicity and feel smothered by disorder and chaos. I struggle to strike a balance and teach stewardship to our children in love, helping them to learn to take care of what they have but not turn the created into idols. So, as I was working tonight to move some items around, I looked at my tea cup filled cabinet and realized that in nearly two years in our new home, I haven't had a cup of tea. No one has. At the same time, I realized that I have a couple of boxes of passed down mason jars, which I cherish more than the unused tea sets, sitting in my living room and garage waiting to find a home somewhere on a shelf.

The minimalism movement doesn't say "own nothing", it says "get rid of what distracts you from what you love". I want to live there. Less distractions. Less time spent managing my assets and more enjoying my blessings. So, let the purge begin. No regrets. More time for relationships. More room for joy.

Need a tea cup?

After a year...

I don't know why, I honestly think it was the cover that creeped me out a little, but for the longest time I avoided picking up The Giver, by Lois Lowry. Finally, being convinced by my dear friend, Michelle, who truly is my literary advisor, I decided to give it a whirl and set to order it from Amazon. When I did, I realized that there were actually four books in a series, The Giver Quartet. If you know me at all, you know where this is going... I bought all four books.

Something you may not know about the culture in our home is that we love books. Ok, so you probably know that, but besides our love of reading, we love to talk about the books we are reading, we become friends with the characters and laugh with them, or cry with them, rejoice and feel sorrow as they do. We take on their inside jokes and make them our own. And because the kids generally have more discretionary time than I do to read, and they haven't learned yet how to talk about a book they've read without spoiling the plot line, I've come up with a little rule... it is simple really, I get to read books first. To be fair, this only applies to books that I actually want to read. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth when this rule was first enacted, but it preserved my enjoyment of reading (as well as my sanity), and the kids could always find something else to read while they waited for what I am sure felt like forever for me to finish a coveted new book.

All that background to say, I finally finished The Giver Quartet. I read the first two (The Giver, and Gathering Blue) right after I ordered them about a year ago. Then, I got busy with life and wasn't reading anything at all. Both the older kids were dying for me to finish the series but eventually stopped begging and assumed I would never ever let them read the books. When we prepared for a little driving vacation recently, and I was trying to decide what to bring to read, the last two books in the series (Messenger, and Son) practically jumped off the shelf into my bag. As Elliott drove the first leg of our trip, I devoured Messenger. Son took longer, but at any still moment, I pulled it out and hung on every word.

Everyone should read this series. Seriously. Everyone. And don't let a year pass between each book like I did. Read them back to back. There are some nuances I am sure I missed because of the space of time that elapsed between my reading of the first two and last two books. Nuances which I expect to pick up on when we kick off the coming school year using The Giver Quartet as our first literature Read-Alouds.

There is a gut-wrenching, ugly reality that is portrayed, yet hope is there. In each of the first three novels, a different "community" is the backdrop for the characters, each striving for a utopia in a different way, each one sacrificing something to achieve it. Each book leaves you wanting for what is to come in the next, even though the first two don't seem connected, and yet you know they are somehow. The third book starts to tie the storylines together and the fourth is the perfect completion of all. The ending is not contrived, the author leads you to the end with a talented hand. It is a thoughtful tale spun by a masterful storyteller. It was an unexpected delight to my heart.

What are you reading that is stirring your heart and mind?

Would I read it again...

When I look at my bookshelves, despite their quite chaotic state, I smile. Amidst the chaos of books not put away properly, or the stacks precariously teetering, are some of my dearest friends.

I am about to go through my bookshelves. Obviously, organizing them is of high priority, but I am also going to be thinning out some of the selections. Over the years my kids' interests have changed, as have mine. And the reality that I live so near a library helps ease the catch in my heart at the thought of letting some of my friends move on to new adventures.

How will I decide what to keep and what to share away? The answer is quite simple, "Would I read it again?" That is the question I will ask myself over and over as I touch each book (and catalogue the keepers). I need to decide how to tackle organization, especially for books that I will be keeping for the kids' next reading stage (books that I otherwise might not retain).

It is an exciting summer project. And in the process of it, I plan to share some of my favorites with you. We're also reestablishing our family Read Aloud and handicrafts time as well, so I will keep you posted on what we are reading and how we are keeping our hands busy.

If you have any family favorites you would like to share with me, please do! I love suggestions! Many of our favorite books started out with and introduction from a friend.

Olympic fever...

Maybe it's because I was an athlete once, and dreamed of going to the Olympics as a child. Maybe it's because I'm proud of the achievements of the people of our great nation. Maybe it's because I have kids who have dreams of reaching the Olympic stage one day. Whatever it is, every four years, as the summer begins, I find myself glued to the TV in a way I never am at any other time. (In fact, many times I have petitioned to go TV-free, but I keep being overruled.) The Olympics is my Superbowl, NBA Finals, and World Series all wrapped into one glorious 16-day journey.

I love the stories of sacrifice and family support and overcoming hardship. I love that our country, and the world, comes together to celebrate hard work and determination and incredible talent and unquestionable skill. I love that athletes who love Jesus Christ have a platform to proclaim the Gospel and be bold on a global stage (did you see Steele Johnson and David Boudia praying before the 10m Syncronized Diving, and then after giving thanks to God for their talent and safety, and then boldly sharing their faith in the post-qualifying interview?!?!)

But I also realize that sitting around on my haunches for over two weeks, glued to the TV, is not a good option physically. So, while we were watching the Olympic Trials for Diving and Men's Gymnastics this evening, Elliott started doing squats during a commercial break, and that spurred on a great idea... If you want to stay in the living room and watch the selection of the TEAM USA athletes, you have to work out during commercials.

We began haphazardly with doing whatever the first person shouted out, whether it be burpees, sit-ups, lunges, push-ups or something else. Then, because we have children, they began bickering over whose turn it was to choose the exercise. So, we decided to go youngest to oldest in naming the workout. The boys seemed to lean towards arm exercises calling for burpees and push-ups and Supermans, while the girls chose squat lunges, butt kicks, and crunches. Since we watched Diving and Gymnastics back to back, we ended up with over two hours of some pretty intense stretches (why did the longest commercial breaks always seem to hit during burpees?!?!).

More than anything, we had fun together. We cheered on some great folks competing to represent TEAM USA in Rio, we broke a sweat and laughed at each other, moaning when another commercial came on instead of return to the event giving us a break.

I imagine everyone here will remember this Road to Rio trip. What will you and your family be doing to make this summer and these Summer Olympics a memorable one?

Sometimes it's the little things...

{I found this post in my drafts... but with Hannah beginning a new blog over at www.perfectingmyinnereeyore.blogspot.com, I thought I'd dust this one off as it compliments a recent post she penned.}

Tonight I have been listening to a storm raging outside as I've worked to put my craft room back together following our kitchen remodel. I was tidying the desk when I came across a notebook with a broken spine and began to flip through the pages to see if it was worth keeping. Inside I found my scribbled to-do lists for the two weeks leading up to our move to North Texas. A little while before that, I was midnight texting with a good friend back home. Then I flipped to the page detailing the plans of our farewell lunch and play date. Next thing I know, I was sobbing.

I don't think I've ever cried over rereading a to-do list before.

They usually make me smile, feeling so accomplished.

But this time, I did. I cried and cried. And cried.

I love it here, I really do. So do the kids. Elliott never wants to leave. We love our church, we're making good friends, we've found more opportunities for the children in an easily accessible distance than we ever had back home. One of the children has actually been struggling for a while with moments of feeling guilty for enjoying it so much here. 

But I cried because I miss the comfort of friends that you don't have to explain yourself to when you say something completely ridiculous. I cried because I miss the simplicity of skipping up to our little bakery in New Braunfels and not worrying at all about gluten or corn or soy. I miss my church family and my amazing friends. This move has been hard, as good as it has been, it's also proved to be one of the most difficult things I've ever experienced. I cried because every little thing that makes this feel like home leaves behind it the realization that San Antonio is no longer home, it is now a vacation spot.

Sometimes it is the simple things that help you remember how blessed you have been. They remind you to open your eye and see how new blessings are overflowing in your life. I'll probably toss the notebook, the broken spine keeps it from being durable enough to withstand being thrown in my bag for notes at church, but I'm thankful for finding it, and within it, being encouraged by seeing the hand of God leading us, caring for us, and keeping us close.

Fun times ahead...

Our first full summer in North Texas is upon us, and my house is still not fully unpacked and organized. My biggest temptation is to do nothing except piddle around the house until everything is just right. However, no sooner does that thought come into my mind, than the reality of six active, fun-loving, adventure-seeking, busy kids comes crashing down on me. And in an effort to make our summer more fun than doldrum, and after being inspired by a dear friend, I made a little chart that we can check off as the summer progresses. I'm hoping it will act as motivation to get out and do some fun stuff. And I love checking things off!

Now, for those of you who think I'm being a tad too optimistic... I did cheat just a little when I made this list. We decided not to take a traveling summer vacation this year. Instead, we have planned a "stay-cation" and a good handful of the things on our list come from those 8 days, as we explore our city and the surrounding area.

If you'd like to join us for any of these fun activities, we'd love to have you! The more the merrier! :)

A thought for the future...

We are in the process of replacing our kitchen cabinets. It was an unexpected project, but it seems the last owner of our house decided on custom designed cabinets but chose them to be made of particle board. We were fooled by the solid wood doors which looked pretty but the rest of the cabinets were not proving to be sturdy enough to hold up against our crew and their need to be consuming food at all hours of the day and night.

In order to prepare for the new cabinets to be installed, I had to empty all of our old cabinets. I have been thankful for my craft room, as it ended up being the perfect staging area for the entire contents of our kitchen. And as we are nearing the end of this renovation project and I am beginning to load things back onto the shelves they belong, I thought about the most perfect baby shower gift for my daughters, and my son's someday wives.

I've given handmade blankets, bibs, toys and pillows. I've even painted custom artwork for friends welcoming their first child home. But until I was putting away my little tea cups and saucers just now, I realized the gift that I need to give to my children (and grandchildren of the future).

A tea set with a broken tea cup.

Yep, a perfectly flawed broken piece of china.

Why?

Because I don't want my children to miss having a tea party with their little girls and boys out of fear. Fear of a spilled cup of tea, or being worried about chipping a fragile porcelain cup or breaking a saucer. I don't want them to wait for their baby to be old enough to cautiously navigate the process, and end up waiting so long the child no longer wants tea. I don't want them to be controlled by perfectionism. Like I was. Like I sometimes still am. And miss out on so many precious moments.

Come to think of it, I may make them a little basket of goodies, like a jar of dirt, a rollie pollie or two, and a dandelion flower.

The dirt to remind them no matter how much they clean, there will be more dirt, but they may not get another chance to play Sorry or Candyland on the living room floor. The rollie pollie to remind them to explore outside, squeal with their child over the discovery of this little animal that can be walking one moment and be rolling away the next. The quirky little bug is a reminder to use those moments to spark a love for the Creator of the Universe who knew how much happiness a poop-eating transforming bug could bring to a young child. A dandelion flower for them to practice being delighted by the simplicity of life seen through the eyes of a child. I've too often complained about the soft yellow weed presented to me by a child with eyes aglow, so proud of their treasured gift, because all I can think about is how that gift meant there was an unwelcome guest growing in my well-manicured lawn. I may or may not have been known to say, "If you really love Mommy, you'll bring the roots too next time." And now I wish I had simply said, "Thank you," and given the child a hug.

And tomorrow, I think I'll make my children tea and ask them to see if they can scrounge up any dandelion flowers to decorate the table. I'm still navigating the complexities of this parenting thing. Do you have any "unique" gifts you would want to pass on to the next generation? Do share, I feel like I'm throwing myself a Mommy shower. :)

I learned a lot...

All of January, and a few of the last days of December, I embarked on the Whole 30 diet for myself. My reasons were a little all over the place, I'd been reading about it for a while, even followed some Whole30 folks on Instagram to get ideas, and I think I wanted to prove to myself that I was not a big mess of emotional eating anymore.

Ready for the "Whole 30 Timeline" to kick in,  I checked the book a few times, but apparently my sugar intake was so low going into my Whole 30 that I didn't have carb flu like I expected. I will say that was kind of an encouragement, as I was wondering if I was having too many Paleo treats. Apparently, I wasn't. I did not want to "kill all things" or "take a nap". I actually texted with a friend about my lack of "symptoms", she quizzed me on what I was eating. Turns out, I eat pretty clean already, eating Whole 30 for me ended up meaning no butter and no "cheating". I even survived cravings when my family was indulging in chocolate chip cookies and ice cream."Tiger blood" hit throwing my sleep schedule off like mad, my new-found energy keeping me buzzed until 1am even without a drop of coffee all day.

But, like on other diet changes I have made, I found myself feeling all consumed by what I was going to eat next. I wasn't insisting on my children eating exactly like me, which led me to having to make more than one meal three times a day. The dishes became overwhelming. The time I spent in the kitchen skyrocketed with all the cooking, contributing to the piling up dishes. My ability to concentrate was cut in half for about two hours every time a meal time would roll around. I stopped wanting to eat, it was too much trouble.

So, today I ended my Whole 30 early. I don't regret doing it. I don't regret ending it either. I think it's something I will use from time to time when I notice myself relying too heavily on sweet treats (and even their Paleo substitutions), or when I start to feel sluggish. But unless my whole family wants to give it a whirl, I just can't play short order cook, or leave the children to scavenging while I take care of my food needs.

Overall, I am encouraged that how I'm feeding my family is pretty "clean", notwithstanding their love of Trader Joe's Gluten Free Mac & Cheese. And I am pretty confident that I have the tools I need to really implement a "clean week" and Saturday "cheat day" for all of us. I'm hoping to do better with menu planning, even though some of our most enjoyable meals were born out of desperation and a fridge full of great ingredients.

Now to plan our cheat day...

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. :)