Pint Sized Quiet Times

Pint sized would describe the length and frequency of my times to pray and read my Bible lately. But it also describes God's methods for ensuring I continue in prayer and growth despite my ability/dedication to focus in on lengthy times with Him as I have been in the past. As I'm sure many moms can relate to, He often uses the little people in my life to teach me about Him and see many of my own shortcomings.

I haven't had lengthy prayer times lately, but when T3 is wide awake after his 3am feeding, I pray very focused and fervent prayers for him to go right to sleep! Amazingly, I often can't go right to sleep even when he does, so I lay awake and sometimes use this time to pray for those who I know need it.

Yesterday we were finally to the planting stage of our garden. As T1 and I worked together to plant the tiny corn seeds I asked him, "Can you believe that this little seed will grow into a big corn plant?" and he just mater-a-factly said, "Of course it will." Immediately Abba whispered, "the faith of a child", reminding me to keep my faith simple and just believe. Why do I have to doubt and question everything?

This morning as I drove T1 to his last day of preschool (wasn't it just yesterday I was journaling about his first day?) I reflected on my short temper earlier when he spilled my coffee all over the kitchen counter while reaching for something that I asked him to wait for. (You know the old adage, "don't cry over spilt milk?"...I think it would be more appropriate to say, "don't yell over spilt milk...or coffee.") Anyways, I asked him to forgive me for getting upset so quickly with him and he quickly replied, "I already forgave you, Mom. I always forgive you and Daddy right away when you yell at me." Double whammy! Why do I yell so often? And how is it that he is so quick to forgive and I am so slow in letting go, instead choosing to nurse a grudge and lick my wounds? Again, a challenge to grow coming from the pint sized little person in the car seat behind me.

So despite my lack of attention to pursuing our Father, (which, yes, is sometimes related to this season of little ones), He is faithfully pursuing me. And He is using these same pint sized "time grabbers" to teach me and challenge me to grow closer to Him every day.

How to build a patio in 3 days.

One of our latest projects was adding on a patio (or "studio" according to Thing 2) to our backyard. We were extra grateful for the expert help of one graduating landscape design student friend and one EDGEr who just happened to grow up doing landscaping for the family business. We had been talking and dreaming of putting one in for 3 years now and the opportunity to have their expertise made it a no brainer that this is the time to do it. Plus we had the extra muscles of Things 1 and 2 who were completely entertained (aka, out of my hair) for 3 days while the project commenced. Thank you to all who stopped by and helped...and thank you to Papa John's and BK who helped me keep this hungry crew fed!















We broke it in last night with grilled trout caught by the Things and grilled asparagus (bought by yours truly) and fresh pineapple. What a feast! Come by and enjoy it with us sometime!

Identity Crisis

First off - thank you to all who emailed and commented on my last post. I appreciate all your encouraging words and support. I apologize to those who I made cry, it wasn't my intention - just wanting to share our journey with you.

Now, on to lighter things...many of you have expressed confusion over Thing 3's name. It was never our intent to confuse...we just simply can't agree is all. Hubby is set on Thing 3's middle name and I'm set on his first, most of the time. When he is up often at night (as he has been the last two nights) I call him by his middle name as well. :) I can't decide which he looks more like, so I go back and forth between them. Hubby also thinks it will be cool for him to sign his name with his first initial, full middle name and then last. I guess when Thing 3 is old enough to talk he can decide what he wants to be called. Hopefully we won't cause him to have an identity crisis between now and then.

Thing 3 isn't the only one who can't decide on an identity in our house. T2 is also trying on many different roles these days. He still hangs onto being an Army guy most of the time, but also changes outfits multiple times a day to match whatever "guy" he is at the hour. He also sports "soccer guy", "baseball guy", and spiderman. Yesterday morning I'm not sure what he was, but he came upstairs "dressed" in spiderman underwear, a yellow blue's clues vest, and a long sleeved camo shirt on top. Nothing else. It was quite the outfit. I was thankful that he decided to change identities before we had to go out in public.

You can put in your two cents - vote on what name T3 should go by - just scroll down on the right hand column to find the poll. Which name do you think fits him best???

A Different Path

Well, Thing 3 is officially one month old. There is something I've been meaning to write about since he was born, and I think I'm finally ready to go there. Or maybe the tears welling up in my eyes mean I'm not...or that I'm just still on the roller coaster of hormones (sorry to all my male readers). Darn I wish I wasn't out in public right now!

For all those family and close friends reading that this is news to, I apologize now, there just hasn't been time to call and rehash all this. And frankly, I just didn't have the emotional energy anyways. We decided that rather than worry everyone, we would just have a very few praying for us. So what the heck am I talking about...for that I have to go back to April 7th, a Tuesday afternoon a few hours after T3 was born...


Soon after T3 was born a pediatrician did his initial physical and noted some "funny lines" (what I call them, not the MD) on the palms of his hands. He informed hubby that this is one of the signs of Downs and that it would take up to two weeks to get the genetic tests back. Hubby then later told me of the possibility but he was so calm I didn't freak out too much. Or maybe it was just the shock. Later that night as I lay alone in my hospital room the shock wore off and the calm I felt with hubby there had gone home with him. It was hard not to worry that first night. I mostly laid awake thinking about kids with Downs and trying to decide if T3 looked like them. I kept drawing imaginary lines from his eyes to his ears to see if the ears were a lot lower like on Downs kids (or were they supposed to be higher?). Then I would stare at his hands and try to erase the lines I saw there, wishing they were "normal" and feeling guilty for wishing this. It wasn't that I thought it could change my love for him in any way, it was more that this wasn't what I wanted for him. It would change everything and nothing all at once.

The next morning (Wed.) I spoke with the MD for the first time and I asked him straight out what were the chances that these "funny lines" meant he had Downs since he didn't seem to have any of the other physical traits. As he said the words "He has a 90% chance of having Downs" I could have sworn he reached into my chest and squeezed my heart in his fist. I lay there in my hospital bed as he talked on for a few more minutes about a family in the area with a Downs child and connecting me with support groups and then he just walked out. I'm sure he sent the nurse who came in a few minutes later to try and console this freaked out mother sobbing in her hospital bed. My OB had rotten luck that morning as he made his rounds next. I lay crying with my hands covering my face while this middle aged man stiffly pats my shoulder mumbling "You okay?". DUH! It was obvious I wasn't and it was obvious he wasn't in the habit of consoling distraught mothers. Still, he did his best and I laugh about it now.

It is so strange how you can be going along on one path that you think is straight and predictable and all of a sudden someone says something like "your child likely has Downs" and that straight path takes a sharp curve. One so sharp you'd go careening off this new path if it weren't for God's strong hands holding you upright. All the while your mind is reeling with the implications and worries as to where this new unfamiliar path may lead and God is whispering reminders of His love and faithfulness to keep you going. At least that was how it was for me for the next 24 hours.

The following morning (Thurs.) our regular pediatrician came and did his own assessment. He didn't seem to think that the lines appeared on both hands like the first MD, just on one hand. He also told me that there is a theory behind the lines. Apparently Downs babies don't move a lot in utero and don't open and close there hands as much. So for whatever reason, T3 maybe didn't move around as much and that may be why, or he may have Downs. Still, he gave us a much lower % chance that is was really Downs and he promised to call us as soon as he got the results back from Mayo.

We went home Thursday afternoon and tried to get back into a "new normal" and not think about it too much. We decided not to tell anyone until we knew what we were dealing with. We didn't want anyone to worry over what might be nothing. I also felt protective of him, I just wanted people to get to know him and not get hung up on a diagnosis.

It was strange walking down this path knowing that very soon there was going to be a fork in the road and one little genetic test result would tell us which path we were going to take. We didn't have a choice, we had to keep walking closer to the fork, and we had to somehow get to the place of being okay with whichever path God had already decided we were going to take.

Friday our pediatrician called to tell us that he had spoken with Mayo and would get the results Monday morning. The next couple days we just enjoyed being a "normal" family (is there a normal with 3 boys? is there a normal with a upcoming diagnosis looming in the back of your mind?). I was glad we weren't going to have to wait two weeks like we originally thought. But as Monday grew closer I felt myself getting more and more anxious.

Finally Monday arrived and the phone call we had been waiting and hoping for. T3s results were in and he is perfectly normal (well as normal as any of us are). Hubby left the msg on my cell phone letting me know he had spoken with our doctor. I still have it saved on my phone, i just can't seem to press the number 7 to delete the message that sent me down the path I was hoping and praying to take. Just as quickly as the curve came up and threw me off my "familiar path" I was back on track. One phone call and all the "what if's" and imagining life with a child with special needs and how would that affect my other two things (both good and hard), etc. etc. were suddenly fading off to the right as my path veered to the left with the predictable and "normal" ahead as far as I could see.

Looking back sometimes I have some strange feelings about it all, some are whacked and I know it, but they are there. I wonder, if I had more faith would God have given me a child with Downs? Maybe I just didn't have the faith to handle it? I feel guilty for wanting him to not have it. I feel relieved that he doesn't. At the same time I'm praising God for answered prayers and a healthy child.

It makes me think of the other "curves" we have faced. One came at T1s 2 month check up. As the MD listened to his heart he kept on listening, and listening and listening. As the minutes ticked by I knew it shouldn't take that long to know it was normal. Soon he was on the phone with a pediatric cardiologist and I was headed down the hall with my 2 month old to radiology instead of heading home with a normal check up behind me. (For those of you who don't know that story, a couple years later T1 was given a clean bill of health). Those curves come up so quickly the momentum literally thrusts me into the arms of God. There is no other place to be. Or maybe it is that I finally realize His arms have been there all along, I just wasn't leaning into them like I could have been. Lest this begin to sound too much like "Footprints" I'll stop there, but the lesson is the same. I'm grateful for a God who ordains these curves and carries me through them. Patiently, gently whispering me through them until I gain my balance again and hopefully continue on with more faith, more praise and more dependence upon Him than before.

Seniors, Bikes, and The Police

As you can imagine, we've been keeping pretty busy here. Having a baby, keeping up with two other boys and wrapping up a school year...never a dull moment. Here is a overview of some of what we have been up to.


The boys love their new baby brother. T3 has even given T1 and I a few smiles. Hubby is still waiting for his.


Last week we took a tour of the local fire station.


We even got to talk to the police officer on the way out.


On Sunday we hosted all the seniors for a special dinner and seminars. Guest speakers discussed how to set up a budget, etc. and gave a ton of useful information, much from Dave Ramsey's books. Other topics included finding a church, having a personal ministry, and transitioning from college to career.


Both of the older boys have started riding bikes in the past couple weeks. They mostly ride in the garage since we live on a dirt road. Hubby likes to do his wood working while they ride around and I enjoy a little peace and quiet...sort of.


Thing 3 loves to sleep on anyone who is willing to hold him.


Hubby started on his farmer's sunburn...err, tan early, the benefits of holding a staff meeting outside for a few hours. Thing 3 was doing his best to absorb the heat from his sunburn.