Friday, November 23, 2012

Real Me

It's for sure... these two little girls profiles are slightly similar. :)
Ok. Identical.
I've been functioning on about 5 hours... of broken sleep... every night now...for about 7 months. I've decided Motherhood isn't for lovers of sleep. If you are a lover of sleep, this job of Motherhood will be a tad bit of torture. Our little cutie baby seems to want to nurse every 3 hours around the clock. Still. 

Brian and I joke and say that we are POWs. One of the ways POWs are tortured is to remove their sleep. They are forced to stay awake. Or woken up frequently. All of this sounds so very familiar. 

The other way, is to force the POW to listen to many different types of music or sounds all at one time, loudly, for extended periods of time. Brian was telling me that, the other day, on a particularly sleepy day, while we were in the car. The big girls were in the back with an iPad, Vivian was watching a DVD and at least two of the them or maybe three were talking to us, while we were listening to music and he and I were talking. It's humorous.  
But as tired as I am, I love these days. Honestly, I couldn't possibly change a thing. Not the sleepless nights. Not the visitors to my bed during the night. Not the early rising, sleepy faced, little girl who wants to be rocked while she sucks her thumb.  
Ok. Maybe theres one thing I want to forget. The laundry. 

And at the same time, I'm reflecting on how far we have come. 
9 months is along time to be pregnant, wondering who she will look like, how she will be, if she will be healthy, will she look like the other three. And now she's here, and has been here for 7 months.
I cannot imagine life without her. 

Brian and I take turns trying not to eat her up. He finds me at all hours of the day, kissing her big-time, square on the mouth... slobber strings between us and all. A little later, I find him doing the same thing. :) She is incredibly kissable. We love every minute of her. Even the 2:00am minutes. 

I wish, wish, wish I could blog more. So many funny, darling, memorable things happen and I love writing them here. But there don't seem to be enough hours in the day.
 (iPhone pic on a family trip to the Great Wolf Lodge)

If I could sum up the last few weeks it would be how thankful I am for the Lord's care and comfort. He meets me everyday.  

'The LORD is my ROCK.' 2 Samuel 22:2

When your Mom dies, everything falls out of whack. Period. It just does. There is no other way to explain it. Everything seems out of place. The person who understands me the best, loves me the most, and gave birth to me, is gone. And I never get to talk to her again. 

I want to call my Mom about 30 times a day. Sometimes more. 

If you wonder how I am doing. I miss her. 
If you wonder how it feels to be super young and have your Mom die. It's HARD. Plain hard.

Every night, right before I fall into bed, around 12:00 or 1:00am, I set my alarm for 6:00am. 
And when it beeps in the morning, I quietly untangle myself from at least one or two little cuties, and slip out of bed. And I hide out in what I call my 'Mount of Olives.'

John 8:1 'But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.' It's the place he went to pray and be with his father. 
So taking his lead, I meet with the Lord in the morning. I read my bible and LOVE spending that time in the dark of the morning, with the Lord.

Luke (21:37) says 'Each day Jesus was teaching at the temple and each evening he went out to spend the night on the hill called the Mount of Olives.'

That's code for 'Jesus went and prayed and was seeking the Lord in the night or the darkness of the morning.' How do I know that? Because the Mount of Olives was an ancient olive farm where the Lord went to pray to his Father. And he went there frequently. 

It was what some might call his happy place. His place where he went to spend time with his father. The place he went for his quiet time.

I have my favorite spot in my bedroom with my cute Hobby Lobby chandelier where I love to read my bible. The Lord had a favorite place to go. An olive farm, an olive garden.

So in the dark of the early, early morning, I go to my Mount of Olives. 

The reason I am surviving and the girls are flourishing right now... this guy. His servant leadership. I can't do this life of all these little ones without him.

I've started a list of how to keep marriage strong:
  • Ask what he's reading in the Word.
  • Serve him. Help him. (we are our husbands helpmate)
  • Encourage him in the Lord.
  • Actually, encourage him in everything.
  • Be intentional about putting all aside to just listen.
  • Touch often. 
  • Date weekly
  • Don't criticize. Mention things lightly, and not in the heat of the moment.
  • Love him to death.
There's more. Just working on it now. 

Glow time in the bathtub. Our girls love this. Just dollar store glow sticks. 

The family prayer warrior.
Halloween 2012 ~ The Story of Moses
It was actually Evelyn's idea. I think she mentioned it in September. We had been batting some costume ideas around. 
She said she wanted to be Pharoah's daughter. I called Brian at work. He said yes. We ran with it. We had all the necessary characters. 6 characters.
Exodus 2  ~ The Birth of Moses
1 Now a man of the house of Levi married a Levite woman, 2 and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son. When she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him for three months. 3 But when she could hide him no longer, she got a papyrus basket for him and coated it with tar and pitch. Then she placed the child in it and put it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile. 4 His sister stood at a distance to see what would happen to him.
5 Then Pharaoh’s daughter went down to the Nile to bathe, and her attendants were walking along the river bank. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her slave girl to get it. 6 She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him. “This is one of the Hebrew babies,” she said.
7 Then his sister asked Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?”
8 “Yes, go,” she answered. And the girl went and got the baby’s mother.9 Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you.” So the woman took the baby and nursed him. 10 When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses,  saying, “I drew him out of the water.”
The girls find the get-ready for Halloween time, as much fun as the Halloween parties and trick-or-treating. They love the make up and hair. The eyelashes. The cool costumes. The glitter. All of it. I wish I had taken more pictures of that part of the evening, but I had my hands full. Spray painting everyones hair black, making costumes, doing makeup on me and them. 
Baby Moses and his mother, Jochebed. 

Moses' sister, Miriam.

Pharoah's daughter.
Pharoah's wife.

It took me as long after the party, to clean them up, as it did getting them ready for all of the fun. The black bath water at bathtime that night. 
Fun crafts from the season. 

Black sharpie. :) 

“Children do not accidentally become righteous leaders or emotionally healthy and productive adults – any more than seeds thrown randomly to the wind grow to be part of a thriving, beautiful garden.
Someone needs to take responsibility for their nurture, protection, nourishment, intellectual development, manners, recreation, personal needs, and spiritual development. Someone needs to commit time and energy into staying close to them as they grow, encouraging, loving, correcting and teaching.
God designed mothers with a capacity to call forth all that is great, excellent, true, pure and  righteous in a child’s heart and to cast a vision for their children to bring these virtues about in their own lives, and in their generation. When I woman embraces her design and call by God, there will always be hope for each generation.”
- Sally Clarkson
Most of the girls Halloween candy was eaten the night of trick-or-treating. But there was one little girl in our family who loves to share. And this day, the day after Halloween, she had the idea that a baby sister, who has never had anything but milk, would like the taste of a blow pop. She was right. 

 Thanksgiving is here this week and we ran off to the beach to be with our family. I have SO much to be thankful for...

dancing every single solitary day with giggling little girls, lots of laughing, twirling in tutus, singing, piano playing, climbing in trees, girls who confess their love for me and Brian daily, team work, sharing, sweet hearts and boo-boos to kiss, girls that love to get dirty and go fishing with their favorite guy in the world, girls that passionately love their sisters and celebrate the little victories in life like baby's first rice cereal, 2 year olds using the potty,  cartwheels in the back yard, and cursive letter writing. It's all a gift from God. 

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