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?

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?

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. 

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. :)

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.

Playing in the dirt...

Spring has sprung, Summer has come.
Bright eyed boys digging up wiggly friends.
Giggling girls chasing leaping playmates.

Rain coming down, mud in the making.
The landscape is glowing emerald.
New life erupting silently from between my toes.

Toads and turtles, lizards and snakes.
Everyone needs a glass container so they can "watch".
Tears stream down cheeks when new friends leave.

These last few weeks I had big plans for us to log some good "Summer School" time. Instead, the kids have been filling our days with making new friends of the reptile and amphibian kind. Not wanting to be neglectful or hurtful of our adoptees, I have spent a good amount of time googling about the proper care of our adopted mates.

Meet Toad...

Years and years ago, we adopted a little toad from my mother's backyard because Hannah fell in love with it. We watched that little toad grow from the size of a quarter to the size of the palm of your hand in about two years. We finally released the toad when we had to buy crickets the size of your pinky finger that chirped all night long. So, it only seemed right to allow the younger boys the same experience when they fell in love with a hoppy little friend in my front garden bed. Here was the first toad the kids caught, already pretty good sized, Caleb and Micah called him Tim Duncan because he was a good jumper.

Then, I found him a friend when I was pulling weeds. This one was much smaller, more reminiscent of Hannah's first toad. I was inspired to improve on the flat look of the tank, using some flagstone from our pool decking and some succulent plants I had in small pots. You can see the small toad in the upper right corner on the "mountain" and the larger toad in the bottom center.

The kids have been finding smaller toads all over the last few days. I don't have a picture yet, but there are currently four smaller toads in a 20 gallon terrarium (the one I found weeding, one the kids found swimming in the pool, another I found in the flowerbeds, and the latest one was gathered during an afternoon visit to a friend's farm). We decided to let the larger toad go back in the front flower beds. Micah was sad about that, but seemed better after collecting the last one this afternoon.

Meet Miracle, the Red-Eared Slider...

Photo credits: Hannah

I found Miracle on a road in a shopping center. Not long ago we watched a research video about how a high percentage of folks will go out of their way to drive over turtles. I found the information saddening but had no idea that Micah had been so affected by it until we saw a turtle crossing the road in Kentucky on our family road trip. We had no way of picking that turtle up at the time, and Micah was crying, so we promised that the next one we found on the road we could take home. (I googled whether or not this was legal after the promise was made, and it is, thankfully. And the law about it is a bit comical, in case you are interested.) Well, we made it home from our trip and I went out for coffee with a friend. As we went back to my car, low and behold, a full-grown female Red-eared Slider was crossing the road into a large parking lot. When I made it home with our newest "pet", Micah said he had been praying for a turtle, and it was a Miracle that God answered his prayers, so that became her name. (The turtle's size gave away its gender, she was a full 12" across, and boys only make it up to 10", thank you Google.)

We kept Miracle for around two weeks. The kids would walk with her around the yard, we made sure she had fresh water and food. She really was sweet and friendly, not easily spooked. When the kids picked her up, she wouldn't even put her head or legs in, she'd sit on their feet (which the kids said was her way of hugging them). But she wasn't eating well. And we didn't have a way to provide her with moving water, which was important because mosquitoes were beginning to take a liking to her baby pool. We decided that she needed to be released. We loaded up our Miracle and headed to a local park with a river. Miracle was thrilled to be back in the river and we watched her explore her new surrounding for at least an hour. Dragonflies were also caught, skipping stones flung, and feet sunk into the bank. Micah cried and cried and cried about releasing his best little turtle friend. I think the little man is going to be a vet or a zoo keeper.

This afternoon our reptile adventures continued, and I wish I had a picture, or a video, but I don't. I was pleasantly surprised that no one suggested acquiring the anoles we discovered on my Red Yucca in the front yard because I'm not sure where we would have put them! But we did enjoy about twenty minutes with our neighbors watching a male anole doing his best to woo a female, bobbing his head up and down and expanding out his red bulging neck. The kids started looking for the female and we ended up spotting three green anoles in and amongst the Yucca leaves.

So, while we are squeezing in a little school work here and there, we are spending far more time playing in the dirt, observing nature, and soaking up the rain and sun. Oh, and every other day we stand around to watch the toads slurp up crickets. If you ever want to watch, just come by, I'll make coffee and we can "oooh" and "aaah" and cheer the toads on. :)

The desires of their hearts...

We had a major, unplanned disruption to our lives earlier this spring. And there seems to be another gigantic, life-changing one lingering on the horizon. In all the changes, I have had peace and {most the time} am patiently waiting on the LORD. But I am pretty type-A, so lingering makes my head spin and distracts me from the day-to-day, even when I really try hard to focus.

Lately, my heart has been burdened for how things changed in our schedule back in March. The change was abrupt and unexpected, yet we weren't totally shocked. I've referred to that time as an amputation, because it really was an upheaval of all we had done for the past 14 months, no time for goodbyes or graceful exits. One day we were there and the next day we weren't. We went from a full and predictable schedule to a completely wide open and blank one. And as certain dates have come and gone, or I flip through photos on my phone, or kids start the "remember when" conversations, my heart is squeezed just a little more. Regret, guilt, sadness, and confusion all swirl around in my heart. Clinging to the fact that God is sovereign and is doing something good in the midst is the one thing that brings me comfort.

While we were in the swing of things we were pretty busy. And since our "step back,"  I have been wrestling with what it looks like to have six kids and allow them to be individuals. I've gone back and forth about whether it is right and good to force conformity and allow only one family activity (even if it is only enjoyed by a handful of the kids) for the sake of ease and simplicity, or if we are to somehow figure out to juggle each child's desired activity and learn flexibility and put a few extra miles on the car to accommodate a busier schedule.

I'm convinced there is no pat answer to this one. I watch friends whose families all do the same thing and some kids who are thriving, and others (not as interested in the chosen activity) who are discontent and disconnected. I have watched other families torn apart by competing schedules and no guarded time to be together. We've experienced a little of each in our own family as we have tried different things, which raises all kinds of questions in my own heart about being fair and trying to figure out how to allow these kids the experiences they will need to become the people God designed them to be.

So, while we sit with this wide open schedule, we talk about "what we want to do when we grow up". The kids all laugh at the absurd idea that their mom needs to grow up, then they throw ideas around. We've asked the kids to pray, not only for the lingering issue, but also the "once we are done lingering" decisions to make. Summer is around the corner, camps can be a great opportunity to try out new things before settling on an activity in the fall.

I am thankful that I can trust that God already knows my heart, that He knows that the desire of my heart is to pursue those things which He will use to mold these children He has entrusted to us to be the kind of people whose heart's desire is to serve and love the Lord and His people.

How do you do it? How do you balance family time and individual activities? I'd love to hear it.

The little things...

If you know me in real life, you know I enjoy a good cup of coffee. Anytime. Anywhere. I love how it smells. How it tastes. How it brings friends together to share their hearts and lives. And thanks to some amazing friends who taught my kids "The Sippy Cup Song" by Hullabaloo, impromptu outbursts of sing-alongs with a side of boisterous laughter. 

One problem I have found with my love of coffee in the last year or so, is that I have become a bit of a snob. Part of it is practical, if I am going to spend $5 for someone to make me a cup of coffee, I want it to taste good. Really good. Better than I can make in my own kitchen good. Well, after I stopped adding sugar to my coffee, and most anything else as well, I began to realize that I was not a fan of Starbucks anymore; it seemed that they relied too heavily on their sugary syrups to right the wrongs of their espresso. So, I stopped going. Pretty much cold turkey. It freaked out my kids, saved me a ton of money, and simplified trip navigation because I wasn't on the lookout for the green and white mermaid in the sky.

All was well. I even thought about adding a "Friends Don't Let Friends Drink Starbucks" bumper sticker to my car.

And then, Elliott was given some gift cards to Starbucks. I knew it had been a long time since we had been to a Starbucks because as I pulled in through the drive-through one day last week, one of the boys called to me saying, "Why are we here? I thought you didn't drink coffee here anymore." I lamely replied, "I don't, but we got a gift card." And the folks who gave E the gift cards were generous, they gave us three, so I started stopping by anytime I didn't take the time to make my own coffee.

I began wondering if I shouldn't have just saved the cards and given them as gifts. I found myself making unnecessary stops through the drive-thru just because I had this gift card with "free" money on it. Kind of like this morning, when I made Caleb leave the house twenty minutes before we needed to so I could swing through the drive-thru at Starbucks.

I may be dating myself here, but do you remember the old TV series, Cheers? I watched it every week. I loved the lyrics to the theme song, "Where everybody knows your name... And they're always glad you came..." The song is like a welcome call to anyone looking for community, obviously, a bar isn't the best place to seek out true Gospel community, but the point is still that there is this safe place to go and be yourself. And maybe, somewhere deep down, that's why I prefer shopping at local places instead of big box stores. Or, if I do shop at a big box store, I'll drive past one that is closer to where I am to get to "my" store, where the aisles are in the right place and the folks at the check-out look familiar.

All that to say, this morning, when I completely selfishly drove through the Starbucks drive-thru, I was surprised to be recognized by the barista. The young woman has served me coffee through that window for at least the last three years. She has seen me looking my best, my not-so-great, and my I-hope-I-don't-see-anyone-I-know worst. And, today, she asked me how I was, said she'd missed me and wondered where I had been, and noticed my new car. Then, she shared with me an update on her life, some amazing things that were happening, and I had an opportunity to encourage her and rejoice with her.

I was immediately thankful that I didn't have the snarky bumper sticker on my car. Then, I was humbled by this young woman, who probably serves coffee to a few hundred people a week, remembering me and chooses to share her life with me, even in a little way. And I was challenged, too. How can I do better in things like this? When my gift cards run out, I'll likely become a rarity at my local Starbucks again. But how can I go about finding a way to become a part of my community, in a Cheers sort of way, but for a much deeper purpose?

Quickly brainstorming, I think of the Farmer's Market I go to every Saturday morning... maybe I should wander more, visit all the booths, and not just pick up my veggies and dash out. Or my local (and amazing) gluten-free bakery... they already greet us by name, maybe we should invite them for dinner. I have a friend who grocery shops on the same day every other week, maybe being more intentional and predictable would foster more opportunities than my current, "Oh dear, the fridge and pantry are empty" shopping schedule. I am realizing more and more that true community is built on the little things.

How are you seeking out your community? Pray for me, if you think of it, that I would do better in pursuing my community, shining the light of Christ wherever I go.

Finding my feet again...

I almost feel like I don't really know how to do this anymore...
Send off my thoughts into the great open world wide web...
Just to get the words out...
To encourage, I hope...
Maybe even inspire a fellow woman bumping along on this journey of mothering...

So, I am tiptoeing back in to the blogosphere. I can't promise regularity. Or encouragement. Or inspiration. But I am going to attempt to be transparent about the ways the Lord is shaping my days and changing my heart; not in a "I finally have it all figured out" way, but in a "you are not alone, this is hard, but God is good" way.

I'll be honest, I do struggle knowing how transparent I can/should/will be, so if I am vague in an area, please believe that I am desiring to share my heart but don't have the freedom to speak into specific situations with all the gory details in such a public forum. It may be that a situation is churning in my life that hasn't been fully resolved, yet the process is worth documenting. It may mean that I have been encouraged by some conversations or events with one of my children, but that I don't have that child's permission to share openly with the world. I might share my own struggle about being a wife who honors her husband and sharing the cause of the struggle would not edify my husband, but the process of seeking to see my heart conformed to Christ's image deserves remembering because it's the sanctification that is important, not the catalyst. Other times, it simply might be too personal to share details on a blog, and I need to protect myself.

If you have ever read my blog, or if you find yourself taking a peek back in time, you will know that I have struggled on and off with the whole social media thing. I'm gonna give it a whirl. We may be having some big changes around here and having somewhere to "jot it all down" is appealing. Especially since I throw out paper journals after I fill in the last blank page. (I have a thing about looking at my own handwriting. I don't like to. But the process of writing is something I love.)

So, while this kind of feels like an un-post, I just wanted to share where I am coming from moving forward. I realize I could have started a new blog, leaving the past in the past, but I'll be honest, I'm not one of the world's best "namers", and I kind of hope that if you look back (or when I do), we'll see God's work woven into the tapestry of my days, weeks, months, trials, and successes.

I hope you will join me, as I find my feet again... Feel free to say "hello" sometime. And I've said it before, I'm available in person, too. And I make some really yummy coffee if you ever want to drop by.

Something about the quiet...

Our house is a buzz of activity all day. There are meals and chores, independent studies, and books strewn about. We have people working on handstands while I read aloud, while others color or do origami. As soon as I am finished reading, there are people to tutor and kids working on their memory work or upcoming audition piece. Piano practice mixes in with guitar practice and there is a glimmer of hope that one day harmonious music will come out of that upstairs multi-use room. Dishes flow in and out of the dishwasher like we were a big time restaurant, and the laundry train chugs along as the day weaves in and out of lessons in math, grammar, spelling and history. 

In the last year or so, I have really been striving to figure out how to fit our real book loving, homeschool family with diverse interests and hobbies into a practical minimalist box. I have purged and purged until I think I actually have more empty plastic bins than full ones. And yet, we still find ourselves buried under the weight of our stuff. And that stuff is almost never in the right place. So, when the piles grow to be overwhelming, I stay up crazy late and attempt to restore order. There is always trash, but more of the time, the piles grow from halfway put away stuff. The better I can keep all horizontal surfaces cleaned off, the quicker I catch people laying things down where they don't belong. 

And so, tonight, I unearthed the kitchen counter. This particular one seems to be the biggest "dump and go" culprit. I also cleared the bar which ranks as number two for kitchen clutter. There is something about a clean counter that makes me smile. 

And then there is our school shelf where we keep our current books and kids' keep their school bins. Let's just say, I need to stay up a little longer. 

I am actually encouraged by the mess and the piles. Why? Because it is proof that I am learning to walk in the Spirit and not be controlled by my perfectionist tendencies. It means I am placing a priority on the people in my life (my family, neighbors, and friends), instead of on my things. I still have a long way to go, I still find myself overwhelmed when things get out of control, but that is when I am so thankful for the quiet of the wee hours...

How do you manage the balance between prioritizing kids and household responsibilities? 

Little glimpses...

Not real wordy lately... Just schooling, and taxiing kids to practices and competitions, transitioning to a Paleo-inspired/whole food diet... Loving on my family, keeping up with laundry and dishes...

Wasn't ever gonna...

... get married or have children... but God saved me, gave me a wonderful husband and opened the flood gates to give us six kids in 7 1/2 years...

... teach... and we homeschool, yes, all of them...

... put my kids in sports... but then we did, and they are flourishing both in skill and in character...

... run for any reason other than being chased by a bad guy... but the kids and I are starting the "Couch to 5k" training program today and are planning to compete in a 5k with friends in the November and a 10k in the spring...

... get back into social media, like Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram... but my almost 13yo (in a month and a week) asked to get on Instagram and we decided a long time ago to "be where they are" in the virtual realm...

And then I am reminded how true God's Word is... 

The heart of man plans his way,

But the LORD establishes his steps.

Proverbs 16:9