The Christmas Makers

After a very stressful week of baking, hosting, play practice and sick kids, some one told me that some people are meant to be Mary and some Martha, and I am a Martha. I have thought about this and of course read- A Mary Christmas by Karen Kingsbury and Simple Christmas By ???. The conclusion---I don't want to be Martha. While all those things still need to be done, the focus needs to be Jesus and I don't want to forget that. As the years go by, it gets slightly easier, because I have added little helpers like L. She not only dislikes change, she simply can not do it. Her Sunday School teacher was absent yesterday and she had a fall apart. It reminds me that as Benjamin Franklin said "It is not the big events that rarely happen that bring happiness, but the small improvements to daily living." (modern language mine) Basically, it will not be the huge events like the Rockettes or big parties that my kids remember, but the little things we do though out the holiday season. Setting up Nativity sets and assorted crafts would be at the top of the list in our house.

But, I also got a reminder. The author of Simple Christmas pointed out that for many people, Christmas as an adult never lives up to those of our childhood, because as a child someone else "made" Christmas. Someone else stayed up late wrapping presents. Someone else made sure all the ingredients were available for cookies or hot chocolate on the spur of the moment. Someone else sent the cards or strung the lights on the house that made it seem such a magical place. At some point we have to leave home and become our own maker of Christmas. It is those that never do this that are convinced they can do nothing and "it will all be fine" simply because it is the holiday. Disappointment reigns when no elves that arrive in the night. And while it will be "fine" because our God is in heaven and the birth of his Son will arrive and change the world regardless of my actions, I also need to remember that it is I who will pass on that wonder and joy to my children. My actions and attitude will be reflected back in them. Just as Santa needs a few elves to get his job done, I need to volunteer for God's company of elves and start spreading the joy of the season. It may be done through cookies, or parties or even this all consuming play, but in then end, it matters not that I am a Martha or a Mary, but that I am honored to be one of the many sharing in the activities of the one true Christmas Maker.

What makes great literature?

Newsweek recently published a list of books that they considered vital to contemporary reading. Plenty of non fiction and newer titles that "they" felt should be on your reading list. Of course this is just another in a long line of groups or people endorsing and labeling books we should? be reading. It leads to the obvious question, are there still classics? Should there be certain titles that every school kid reads without question? What does it mean to be well read?

I have contemplated this alot this year as I have chosen books for our home school curriculum as well as directed H's choices and chosen family reading. It isn't always as easy as I once would have thought. H's reading level suggests she should be choosing 5th and 6th grade level books, but that skips her right over the Boxcar Children and most Beverly Cleary titles. Shouldn't this be on every third grade reading list? And how many new titles do I allow to push out the old stand bys? While I have not read the Chronicles of Narnia with the girls, I have read all but the last two Harry Potters. On the other hand, B and I just finished The Witch of Blackbird Pond as part of school and I was overwhelmed at how this book still thrilled me as much as on first reading many years ago. In yet another twist, A friend's daughter was placed in the advanced reading class at her middle school and many of our little circle were taken back at the reading list which had no "classics" but all newer titles including My Sister's Keeper. While horrified at that choice for a seventh grader, I read the next title The Hunger Games and absolutely loved it. What a great book on so many levels, but what title did it push out and is that okay? What if my kids never get around to the Mouse and the Motorcycle or Madeline L'Engle?

So, here's the question and I am seriously looking for feed back. What makes a well read person in the year 2010? What books would you have on the list- adult or juvenile?

Caramel Apple Cider Sauce

Another year of CPC partner and employee dinners are in the books. As usual lots of hard work by all involved. Cheesecake was the usual hit, but for any one willing to try something different, the best dessert was pumpkin cake served with ice cream and a warm caramel apple cider sauce. The pumpkin cake was nothing special, but as Brian said "could he just drink the sauce?" Yes, it is that good. So go ahead and make a batch or two. Serve it on anything. And, if you decide to eat it like soup, I promise not to tell.

1/2 cup brown sugar
1 tblsp cornstarch
2/3 cup apple cider
2 tblsp heavy cream
1 tblsp butter

Whisk together first 3 ingredients. Cook over med - hi heat, stirring constantly until large bubbles form around the edge of pan. Reduce heat to low and allow to cook until it thickens ( 2-3 minutes) Whisk in butter and cream.

Back in Business

Oh, my sweet computer. How nice it is to again be connected to the outside world. As many of you have suspected, my life has been even more out of control than usual, but the main reason I have been missing is my lack of computer. One virus and several months later, I am happily working away at my new laptop. Still can't figure out how to connect to the printer but we'll start with baby steps.

A few notes to catch everyone up..... L did start at the primary center in Allen County. It has gone better than I ever could have imagined. She has a wonderful instructional assistant who never leaves her side and loves her like her own. Her responsive communication is really taking off and she adds signs and words along the way. We could still use a few less bloody days, but I love seeing her face light up as we turn into the school parking lot.

We are still keeping up with ACPC, Holy Trinity, Big Red School at Western and home schooling B. It is wild to say the least, but we are managing. We realize this is a season and we will make adjustments in the future.

Brian had knee surgery in October. It was outpatient and he did awesome. The doctor was amazed at all Brian had accomplished with the knee and leg issues he had before the accident. I assured him Brian is an amazing man, of course he did and will continue to do great things. Brian is still in therapy, but hopefully he will be back in shape before long. Now, if we can just find riot gear for him to wear on the farm.

For fall break, we took the "Great American History Trip". As soon as I figure out a few more things, I will post the pictures. The whole crew did great with the VERY long drive to Virginia to tour Jamestown, Yorktown and Williamsburg. Of course the day at Busch Gardens and the stay at The Great Wolfe Lodge helped make hours of history more tolerable. I think everyone learned alot. An added highlight was how well L did with the amusement park scene and especially the characters. I feel safe to say a Disney trip is in our future.

Softball season ended well, cheer is in full swing, and I am supposed to be fixing huge amounts of dessert for the Christmas dinners as we speak but, I have lots of random and probably down right ridiculous thoughts to fill the screen. Check back in soon, I promise to be here rambling.

Yes. No. More.

A year ago at this time we seemed to constantly face the question of if and when L would walk. For reasons I can't quite explain that seemed to be everyone but ours goal. Don't get me wrong, walking is a wonderful thing, but as I told a friend at a lake gathering, "I would trade walking any day for meaningful communication." He was quick to point out that we had at least some of that. L made certain sounds that caused me to turn my head. We were beginning to hear differences in cries etc. My goal was some form of yes, no and more. It is amazing what you can get across if you have those 3 messages. I didn't even need these in verbal form. Sign language works for me too. L's movements towards those things have been slow.

First we got a version of bye/ blowing kisses. Then we got a Mama and a Daddy. L is VERY strong willed. Many therapists have pointed out this is probably why my child even survived her rough start, but it also means she speaks when and if she chooses, and not because you want her to. So we continued with the sporadic speech. We got lots of sounds. A version of "all done" and then "again." We kept working on yes, no and more but to no avail. Finally midsummer she began to sign and say more. I would have taken either. Both was fabulous. She said it to get Rafferty's cheese fries. You gotta love this kid! We got a variation of the word "swing" and then an occasional yell to get to the slide or outside. Then, slowly at first, very inconsistently, we began to get a nod. A whole body movement for yes, a slight shake for no. Hit vacation and a two handed sign for yes began to take hold only to disappear as soon as we got home. In therapy she was refusing to say up and down, but popped out "Cookie Monster" to get the toy she wanted. And then it was there; a true shake of the head for no, the sign for yes, the sign for more. This is what I asked for. I should be happy right? I should, but tonight she signed "more...please." I am literally crying with delight. Communication with your child....more, please.

Canning

In his book See You in a Hundred Years, the author, Logan Ward, shares how he, his wife and 2 year old son leave NYC and move to rural Virginia. The plan was to spend a year living as people would have in about 1900. They moved in the spring as soon as the garden was producing a few things in the hopes that they would be able to live off the land. As you can imagine, suddenly being with your spouse 24 hours a day brought on some issues. Cracks or stress points that had existed in their marriage prior to the project seemed to become giant holes. He goes on the explain that if they still lived in New York, they would no doubt be spending time on some therapist's couch. As the situation would have it, they worked out their problems over a hot stove and canning jars.

Ahh the healing power of the canning jar. I have no idea why, but each summer I am overtaken with an almost uncontrollable urge to bring in the harvest and fill my shelves with winter goodies. Some may call it The Proverbs 31 woman gone overboard. Others may see lunatic squirrel. Either way, here I am...up to my elbows in pickles and jams trying to figure out how to get tomatoes and green beans finished before school starts next week. Yes, I know "they sell those things at Wal- Mart."


It is no secret that I have a pretty stressful life. Every time I think I will get my head above water, some crazy thing like farm accidents or dental surgery plunges me under again. I have seen a therapist before, and would certainly encourage people mired in depression to do so, but this is not quite the same thing. This is daily life run out of control. Too many outside demands, and not enough of the priorities I want to have. Some days I have nothing to show for my hours in this house. I have carried L all day or refereed kids and end the day exhausted and questioning my worth. Thus canning.

There is something terribly empowering about knowing that even if I don't get to the grocery, I can still fix a fabulous meal by just running down to the garden. Fresh tomatoes and squash are an almost perfect meal. Even better than those fresh veges are the jewel like jars that dot my couter tops at the end of a summer day. This is accomplishment at its best. This is my therapy. The house fills with the smell of ripe fruit as I begin peeling and prepping the product of the day. The kids have to be dealt with, so I strike deals with B and H. "Take L to the trampoline for 15 minutes and then you can have....." Meanwhile I rush like crazy to move hot jars in to position or coax the thick, sticky syrup in my cauldron to a boil; "lava" a friend once called it. Sometimes I get the girls in on the action. We won't be winning awards for consistent sized pickles, but B loves to chop and slice. I may only get a few pints done in a day, but there they sit; neat rows of shiny jars, deep orange, yellow green and various shades of purple. I listen for the lids to ping as I wash up the supplies and can't help but smile. Contentment swells within me. This is a job well done, work with an obvious product to show. This would be enough reason to can, but then there is the look on J's face as he tastes peach jam that is somehow even peachier than the fruit from which it came. And, the over heard comment from H " my Mama makes the best strawberry jam."

Dolphins and Sea Turtles and Crabs, Oh My!

St George is a nature lovers paradise. The Island is dotted with marked off triangles where sea turtle eggs are securely nested waiting to hatch. There are no lights on the beach and all the condos have black out curtains to keep from confusing hatch lings that instinctively know to look for the light of the horizon. The dolphins swim so close you sometimes wonder if you could touch them. The sightings are so common, the kids quit turning to look when we yelled. The other native inhabitant is the crab. Last year we had one that lived right off our patio, and was staring at us each morning when we raised the blinds. This year the girls went looking for them. Brian couldn't go and he couldn't handle the twins very well for long, so the girls headed out with whatever adult they could convince. The big crabs were okay. However.... one night Uncle Danny and Grandpa led the expedition to the beach. The girls wanted to make sure I didn't miss oooing and ahhhing over their finds, so brought back a bag filled not only with a larger crab, but a handful of quarter and dime sized little suckers which they promptly released in the condo. Let's see, sand colored crabs racing around on the sand colored carpet and me in bare feet. I'll take the chair thanks.

Just Posing

My Fish

B and H love the water. They practice mermaid kicks and all sorts of underwater games. H may be the dare devil, but B loves to snorkel and explore. L also loves the water. This is the one place she can give J a run for his money. She goes under, "dives", blows bubbles and is learning to kick and float on her back. J prefers to have his feet firmly touching the bottom, or be carried by very capable hands. I commented one morning that I had 3 fish and a landlubber. B looked at J for a moment and said "I think you have 3 fish and a crab."

St George Island 2009

What a wonderful time we had at the beach! St George Island, Florida is very isolated and not yet overtaken by tourists and chain stores and eateries. We had such a great time last year that we made a return trip to the exact same spot. All the Bush clan made it for at least some portion of the week. The whole island seems to move at a slower pace than the rest of the world. We ate breakfast at 9 and rarely made it off the beach unless it was to move to the pool. Very little stress. We didn't try to eat out and still had some of the best seafood ever. The local grocery made wonderful crab cakes that we fried at several meals. Karen made a delicious Jambalaya with local shrimp, and we had local steamed peel and eat shrimp another night. Add some fresh produce and we ate like kings. Brian was a little more limited this time, so I definitely got a work out loading and unloading the van. Sleep, more videos than we see in 6 months, good food and plenty of playtime.... can I have another week please?

Mama Moments

I try really hard to never take J and L to the grocery or Walmart if I can at all help it. In the event I have to, it is imperative to take at least one big sister. However, recent events have made that impossible, so I took J and L to the mall, then to Target, and finally to Sam's. This would be a nightmare under the best of circumstances, but on we went. First L has a tsunami flood out of her diaper in Sam's so we park the cart, grab an outfit, pay for it at the check out and then go change her. We go back to the cart. L was so upset in Target that I held her and pushed the cart at the same time. She decided to throw a similar fit in Sam's, but I could not push this large cart and carry her. I also could not put the things on the checkout counter and you know how helpful Sam's employees are. She resorts to her best tactic of banging her head sharply on the cart handle. In desperation, I ask J to put his arm there while I get the heaviest items. He dutifully does, even as L begins to pinch the fire out of him. He cried, but he never moved his arm. He is an awesome brother. Then he put his sweet hands on either side of her head and turned her towards him and calmly said, "Look at me. Are you listening? We don't do that." Be still my heart.

Brian Update

For those of you whom still haven't heard.... Brian has a partially torn ACL, partially torn PCL, meniscus torn on both sides and an assortment of other knee issues. We will hear next week what the surgery/recovery plan will be. In the mean time he is trying to reduce swelling. As I can't keep him off his feet instead of going full steam, just on crutches, I am hoping vacation next week will help. No guilt for sitting in front of the TV or at the pool with his leg propped up. Please keep praying for us. Luckily for us, as Brian pointed out, his love language is gifts of service. I guess that means our marriage will come out of this stronger. Either that, or he will figure out he really needed to add nursing degree to that original list of 5 things he wanted in a wife!

Southern Living Homes or An otherwise lame attempt to explain why my house is always trashed

I really love descriptive writing of first impressions or first arrivals. Anne's first glimpse of Green Gables, Laura's description of the surveyor's house and pantry, and my favorite, Harry's arrival at the Burrow. Harry grew up in a home where everything was perfect, all the time. The Burrow stands in stark contrast. It is a little run down, the yard needs some work, there are boots piled at the doorstep. The house has a cluttered feel. Ron is a little embarrassed, but Harry sees and feels the love and comfort of a family that is actually busy about living life and caring for each other.

I think I love this because despite my continued hopes, I am still a terrible housekeeper. I did not grow up in a world of what I call Southern Living homes. The magazine of the same name regularly came to our house and as I got a little older, I studied the pictures from time to time. I didn't think anybody really lived like this, anymore than I thought most people looked like the models on the covers of fashion magazines. Don't get me wrong, the people I lived with and visited didn't live in squalor, there homes just looked, well, lived in. There was usually laundry waiting to be folded somewhere. Most of us had very small laundry rooms so that meant laundry was on a couch or a chair. Canning jars or other things were always on the kitchen counter and if they taught like my mom and my friends mom did, there was a makeshift teachers workroom somewhere in the house. No one extra came to clean or was ever even discussed. The closest we ever came to this was Senior "Slave" Days at my mom's school, where for a donation to the senior trip, some students came to your house and did odd jobs. I realize I was a kid, but I don't remember feeling constantly bothered by this or feeling like we being judged for our lack of perfect homes.

Enter 2009. Lots of people around me have Southern Living homes. They are not only perfectly decorated, but always kept clean and presentable. I hear people joke about mess etc to such a point that I live in fear that someone will come to the door uninvited. I apologize for the state of our house constantly and never feel like it is enough. Lets be honest, to some people it won't be. But ....life is about choices.

I spend a lot of time with L, but even without that, our house would still have plenty of issues. I don't want to stop creative ideas and thinking so the girls' rooms are a little bit of a blank canvas. They change bedspreads as their moods and interests change. They have cheap posters and personal artwork all over the walls. They build lego every things all over the place and J runs train track in constantly changing patterns. L needs toys visible and low so she can get to them. We cook and eat multiple times a day. We do projects. They cut up boxes for clubs and mailboxes. H needs a personal supply of tape. I grow things in the kitchen. We recycle. We compost. We let the whole thing go and read for hours or Brian and I just spend time together talking about nothing in general. We dance in the kitchen on the sticky floor. I look at the to do list and make cookies instead.

And then.... I feel guilty and horrible and frustrated and like a very bad mom and make everybody miserable as we try to get things done. Plain and simply, I don't want to live in a Southern Living home. Let me just admit to all that I can't keep house, don't expect it if you come by and keep all judgements to your self. L may have made a mess in the above picture, but she picked up the cups herself and tilted the cups over her head. A wrist action we have worked on forever. Nothing inspires like dirt. Let's see those perfect homes do that!

Taking Care of Daddy

Daddy had a little accident this week. A large tail gate from a metal wagon came down on his head and knee. He has stitches in his head and Mama shaved off some of his hair! His knee is very swollen and he can't stand up without crutches. The doctor will tell us next week what will have to be done to his knee. Mama says you can tell how much he hurts because he put himself to bed when we got back from the emergency room and she didn't even have to yell at him. I can't help Daddy much, but at least I don't jump on the bed like my partner J does and I don't try to drive trucks around the crutches. I decided the best thing for me to do was curl up beside Daddy and just snuggle him.

Translations

Last weekend H played in an all day tournament in Bowling Green. This was the first time we took the wheelchair out of our very familiar territory. I probably should have seen it coming, but I was a little unprepared for the comments etc that this little contraption brought. As soon as I lifted it out of the van, heads began to turn. We saw and heard lots of things so here is what was actually said, and my rough translation.

As B and I walked in, a coach from another team offered L candy. Translation: I can't believe I just yelled at my perfectly healthy child for missing a ball when this small tyke can't even walk. At least this small token makes me feel better. (Of course B wondered what kind of weirdo this was and wanted to make sure the package was wrapped and had not been tampered with. Actually this happened several times)

How old is she? Translation: What's wrong with her?

What a pretty girl. Translation: I realize that I have been staring at you. Obviously the deformed ear, the extreme stiffness, the chunks of missing hair and unfocused eyes mean something is wrong but hopefully this will excuse my rudeness.

Me-"If you want to go on to that field, push yourself." Imagine the vicious stares. Translation: How can you talk like that to this poor invalid child.

I personally find children much easier to deal with. They say "What's wrong with her?" Translation: I really want to be informed- what's wrong with her. Then I can answer his or her question without any pretenses. Children also accept the answers and go on in a way adults can't seem to do.

The amazing thing about wheelchairs or challenges like CP or Down's syndrome or anything else is that how you see them is nothing but perspective. The man who says "Look at that poor little thing." as we walk by doesn't realize that quite the contrary, this wheel chair empowers her and gives L control she could never otherwise have. The fact that I can fuss at her to move herself is a statement on how far she has come. No one would have looked at me funny for making H carry her own bag or J walk on his own feet. One of the things I love most about our trips to Vandy for therapy are the others in the waiting room. All of these children have unique special needs. As L gets mad when she can't make a turn and I am not helping, no one gives a sympathetic look, instead, they say " You can do that" or to me "Don't let her give up now". People share your delight with the arrival of new equipment. Equipment is power and freedom. Wrestling that spoon means self feeding is even on the radar. Spewing the drink out all over me is irritating, but drinking from a straw is a priceless skill -never under estimate the freedom a child drinking from a straw gives you. You may see a mess, but I see a child who can get a drink in the school cafeteria.

L has some really rough days and we pray for healing, strength and patience on a moment by moment basis, but I am also very thankful for the strides she has made and the opportunities we have been given. Nothing is "wrong" and she isn't "a poor little thing." She is a fabulous little girl with a lot harder climb than you or I. She is a spitfire rebel determined to do things her way. She is power. If you doubt that , let her take a bite of you. We all have bruises and scars that prove it. She may not be as verbal as we like, but those closest to her know the translation "I WILL BE HEARD!"

L's New Wheels

How very exciting!! After 3 long months of waiting, L's wheelchair finally came in and as B said "it just looks so cute!" We have so many things to be thankful for today. These same therapists and equipment people worked with L 3 months ago, and they could hardly believe the changes in her. She showed better body control, was more verbally expressive and best of all had a great attitude. Even with no nap and a lengthy drive before hand, they described her as "funny." She kept them in stitches, even when she became fascinated at being able to hang almost upside down in the seat with the seat belt holding her in place. This caused her to throw up, but even that was met with little girl giggles. L is delighted by her mobility and is already working hard to control the chair on her own. Just to make sure it was J proof, every safety/ anti tip option available was added to it. L definitely has backwards down, forwards is a little harder. My walls will never be the same again. I hope you can tell from the pictures how very small it really is. I told several people, I was sure it was ordered from the American Girl doll catalog. Don't get me wrong, we still have some rough days, but I know God is at work and only He could as Brian said " give her back her smile."

Wax Museum

H's class did a fabulous job learning about famous Americans and then sharing the info with other grades and of course Moms! Can you find H? She is Sandra Day O'Connor, but she also made Amelia Earhart's plane. Others pictured are Elizabeth Blackwell, FDR, Elizabeth Stady Canton, JFK, Benjamin Franklin, Wilbur Wright, Thomas Edison, Neil Armstrong, Harriet Tubman, Jackie Robinson, and of course Einstein. The funniest part was how close to each child's personality was the great person they portrayed!

Big Red School Spring 2009

Oh how we have loved Big Red School. I can not say enough about the wonderful things that Miss Lisa and her students are doing. Every city in America should have such an innovative program. It is wonderful for J, but it is an absolute blessing for L. She has made such great strides. At the closing program, she did not sing or do the motions, but she sat in her little cube chair as part of the group without getting upset. When the parents clapped between songs, she clapped with them and smiled her ear to ear grin. She loves being bragged on! J didn't sing either, but he did at supper that night! I especially want to thank L's Miss Jennifer (the blonde reading the book). On good days and bad, she met L at the door with a smile and excitement about all the possibilities of the day. She was patient, firm and kind despite L's sometimes abusive actions. I know she is a big part of the reason L did so well. Who would have thought that the same child who couldn't even sit up in a grocery cart a year ago would be working on getting in and out of a cube chair on her own. We love people that love our children and I adore those who find ways to open doors. Thank You!!!

75-25

During our almost 13 years of marriage, Brian and I have had 4 rather rocky times. By rocky, I mean more than the usual arguments, issues that run much deeper than "your late" or "you forgot such and such" and longer lasting than a day or so. 1, 2 and 4 all had to do with transitions after kids. 3 is the subject of a book, not a blog so lets just stick with kid adjustments. Nothing can prepare you for the changes kids bring. Both the social worker and our sweet friends Eddie and Susan tried to explain this while still calling children a blessing. Others did it in less than nice ways, but I'll also leave that for my scathing tell all. (Just kidding) Reality is hard. Brian is a workaholic who constantly worries he won't set a good example for his employees. I am a perfectionist parent who believes anything less than Martha Stewart, June Cleaver and the proverbs 31 woman rolled into one is failure. We ran head long into the whole parent thing.
The first was the hardest as we completely upset our established roles and learned the new guidelines. How late could/should Brian work? How much personal "play time" was appropriate? How many "good" things could we manage? When was one parent enough and when should both be involved? What was our personal parenting style going to look like? How were we going to handle the reactions of others when and if our parenting style didn't look like theirs? Not to mention just figuring out how to manage day to day life with much less sleep and more things on the to do list.
We thought we were prepared for this with number 2, but once again we were knocked off our socks. After a few months of feeling like a total failure, we were blessed to have a fabulous social worker who saw all the red flags of attachment disorders. I won't go into great detail here, but attachment disorders are ugly things. It took alot of time, therapy, commitment and rethinking how we did some things to get through this. We hope the worst is behind us, but this little issue still rears its ugly head from time to time.
Enter the arrival of J and L. This time we had our eyes wide open. We understood attachment disorders and were prepared to make whatever drastic changes might be required. We were united on our willingness to draw firm boundaries if that's what it took to deal with the issues under our own roof. We understood that L had more special needs than we had ever dealt with and that there were many unknowns. We knew life was about to get infinitely harder. We knew this was clearly what God was calling us to do and were and continue to be humbled at the trust he has placed in us. Before Brian made even the first trip to Russia, we made some agreements. We understood that priorities and choices would have to change. Brian was going to have to cover more at home and both of us were going to have to be flexible. Brian was going to need to be in earlier or even for chunks of time in the middle of the day. I was going to have to be all right with Brian going back out in the evenings or early mornings. We were both going to give up some outside roles at church or in the community.
I wish I could tell you this was a seamless adjustment, but of course it wasn't. We had some battles as we literally worked out a life that we can all be satisfied with. (This is an ongoing activity.) Brian has really tried and he makes countless sacrifices. Some days we wonder if they are the right ones, but then we have moments....

• B had a particularly bad day including ongoing troubles with 2 other girls in her class. H offered to punch one of them in the nose. No violence is not the answer but we worked hard for united sisters.
• J and L have a small closing program at the same time as B's knitting class. "I can always go to knitting. I want to see J and L's program."
• And my personal favorite.... Brian needed to be on the computer for an Internet sale during the evening crazy hour. I am trying to get supper on the table, B and H are working on homework, J is wreaking havoc. L really need meds to kick in. Brian finally comes and gets L and then holes himself up in the office, bidding with her help. Hope we didn't buy anything extra! Brian finally gave up and joined us for supper. We could still hear the computer going and Brian's phone was ringing off the hook. I thanked Brian for making this choice. Had smiled and said, " that's because Daddy's heart belongs 25% to cattle and 75% to us" Brian laughed and smiled at me "that means I've come a long way!"

Easter 2009

H's mouth is full of marshmellows!

I bought the overly complicated egg kit, which included paint for my artist.

All J's eggs ( along with his hands) were in the green family. At least he matched Grandma's shirt.

Never Give Up

So we're not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There's far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever.
2Corinthians 4:16-18 MSG
When I woke up this morning, my first thought on this post was to call it "Private Hell". After reading my devotional, I have a slightly different outlook. Plain and simply, L has had a really rough week. She is literally bloody and battle scarred. Her hands and arms are covered with bite marks and bruises. Brian and I both have marks on our necks and shoulders from twisting pinches and B has a welt from a bite that L could not release. She was so out of control yesterday at Vandy that one therapist cried and the other went for backup to observe L. No one knows what to do. The CP specialist and the neurologist are consulting on meds and the OT is researching clinics that deal specifically with self abuse. As we drove home yesterday, I watched in the rearview mirror as L screamed and arched her back against the seatbelt and pulled hair and rebloodied the ear that we can not get to heal. I couldn't help but think this must be what Frank Perretti is describing in his books about demon possesion. Some vice like grip has control over her mind and body making her oblivious to the pain she in inflicting upon herself and unable to be comforted by anyone or anything. It is as if she is locked in some room screaming for help, fighting off the evil captors. Only the locked room is her own mind and the captors she is fighting, the very people who love and cherish her. As hard as this is on us to watch her, I am sure it doesn't touch the pain she is enduring.
I have to admit I went to bed and wokeup emotionally exhausted and simply beaten down. I recently gave up more indepth Bible studies for a time because they had become just another pressure instead of quality time with God that was often rushed or simply put off. I did pick up a devotional book by Jennifer Rothschild. At this time it has proved the better choice as each entry is the small nugget of truth or wisdom I need to get through the day and can squeeze into few minute segments. Today's devotion was about a little girl born in another country without arms or legs. It told of her mother's struggle to adopt her and of her daily "walk" of faith and the lives she impacts from her story and actions. Thanks God for the always perfect timing. It is a fact that at this time in our lives we are fighting a battle as never before. It is harder than I ever anticipated and I need a lot less me and a lot more God. Medicine and therapy may not be bringing these walls down. It is time to gather our armies and march around the walls blowing our trumpets and shouting for joy. He is still the Mighty Messiah who manifests miracles.
We will not give up.

When the cats away....

Shh...We have a secret. When Brian is away, the girls and I eat very differently. Before meeting Brian, I could probably have become a vegetarian with little effort. Don't get me wrong, I love a good steak, but after awhile, meat begins to bore me and I am left longing for the variety that only fruits and veges can provide. Most days I set this aside, and in the interest of family unity and my iron issues, fix well balance meals with portions of meat, grains and vegetables. The girls however, have stronger feelings than me. Most nights, my sweet girls sit down at the table asking how many pieces of meat they have to eat in order to be excused. They may not love whatever vegetable we are having, but this is not what keeps them languishing at the table or drives them to hide food under the chair cushions. This honor belongs exclusively to meat.



As a houseful of secret carb and vege loving women, we begin our Daddy free days with pancakes or french toast and fruit and not a sausage link to be found. We lunch on salads and cheese filled pastas and consume way too much chocolate. (another item Brian doesn't really like) J has been a little harder to manage. It must be a male thing, but he hits the bottom of the stairs asking for sausage and eggs, and loves hotdogs. I am sure it is only a manner of time before he insists on either going with Brian or demands to see red meat on the table at supper. By the end of our weekend or business trip, we of course go back to our balanced protein diets. We love Daddy more than our secret vegetarian life style. I would venture to guess he didn't eat a single vege while he was gone so I am sure it all evens out in the end!



Double Chocolate Brownies



3/4 cup butter

4 oz unsweetened chocolate

2 cups sugar

4 eggs

1 1/4 cups flour

2 tsp vanilla

1 bag milk chocolate chips



Heat butter and chocolate together until blocks of chocolate melt. Stir until smooth. Cool slightly. whisk in sugar, eggs, flour and vanilla. Stir in 1 cup chocolate chips. Pour into greased 9x13 pan. Sprinkle with remaining chocolate chips. Bake at 350 degrees for approx 35 minutes

Look What I can Do

L is still army crawling as her primary form of mobility, but she is much faster and can get from room to room with relative speed. She has also begun to pull up to tall kneeling and be able to play from that position. Last night she discovered the kitchen cabinets and had a wonderful time opening and closing doors!

J & L are 3!!!

J and L turned 3 February 26, but the party had to wait for clear spot in the schedule. Grandma and Grandpa got to come and we put them to work all day in order to be ready. Thank you!! J is a huge Mickey Mouse fan and it was a party theme that worked for both. L didn't get the hands in the cake thing on her second birthday, but she did this time. Sometimes we need to be thankful for small steps and I was thrilled to see those finger marks across Mickey's face. J just loved opening presents and being the center of attention. He is the private Ken doll to his four cousins who dressed him up in assorted dress up outfits and then he would run into the dining room yelling "Da Daw!" All in all a good evening. We just won't discuss the artichoke chicken that did not want to cook.

Just Horsin' Around

B has struggled to find an activity she enjoys and lasts longer than six weeks. This fall she began taking horse lessons once a week with the goal of riding contest. She has worked through lots of nerves and struggled to find a horse that matched her personality, but this spring we seem to have found a match. Ginger is a paint that belonged to another young lady in the community, but as she is a teenager now and moving onto other things Ginger was looking for someone new to belong to and B loves her. They have had some wild rides where Ginger did considerable bucking etc as they figured out who was in charge. ( Truth be told, I am still not sure which one of them is in charge.) B has also had to adjust to her instructor. He is really good, but a little loud and has high expectations- thus more than a few tears. Saturday morning, B rode in her first show. She ran the barrels as an exhibition only, but I couldn't be prouder. I did ask Brian how both our girls got interested in very expensive activities that have a show time of 2 1/2 minutes (cheer) and less than 30 seconds (horse). Oh well, no value can be placed on hearing B's instructor say "I'm proud of you, girl." and watching that shy smile cross her face.

Too Cute to Not Post