hitherto & henceforth

undercurrent words

2012-03-12T01:00:00.000-07:00

photo courtesy of thanker212

mercy.
compassion.
forgiveness.
grace.

The pews are scarcely filled. Some parishioners stand with arms raised, others journal, and yet others sit, eyes closed, mouths forming words for only God to hear. Voices raised sing, Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, God have mercy on me and these words tumble through my head. Mercy is a compassionate or kindly forbearance shown toward an offender or an enemy. These words swirl, the undercurrent of my faith finally settling into my heart and impressing on me that I must forgive. I must extend mercy. Compassion needs to be my next thought and grace, as Ann Voskamp says, "All is grace."

So often I ask for mercy. I beg God to have compassion on me, to forgive me for a snarky comment or having a bad attitude. I thank Him for His grace. I even memorize the song about grace so amazing that it saved a sinner that is me, but the truth comes out when God takes me by the heart and tells me to embody the grace he has so freely lavished over me and extend it--offer it.

There is only one criteria for those to whom I am to extend grace and mercy--they must be human. If a person is human, then my one calling is to lavish grace on them, bestow mercy, apply forgiveness, and bleed compassion. This is so much more easily said than done.

I can bleed compassion for children on the street or prostitutes in a brothel. Mercy easily pours out as I think of girls in Kenya who are learning to be better mothers and grace is easily granted when it's for a good cause, but what about when I've been wounded? What happens when I am asked to pour, bestow, expend, and grant when the person on the receiving end has wronged me? When that person has taken the knife and driven it elbow deep into your abdomen and at the last moment twisted it? What then?

Then my friend, we must cling, cling to Truth that it is because of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed. It's because his compassions fail not. (Lamentations 3:22) His mercies are new every morning and great is His faithfulness. (Lam. 3:23) As Christ followers we must strive that our veins flow with compassion; that our first, knee-jerk reaction is one of mercy and grace. It is not easy, nor is it natural and I have not yet accomplished it, but it is my prayer that my very veins would flow with mercy so that when the dagger is driven deep, the attacker can't help but to become ruined by the compassion that flows from me.

That we would be known by our mercy, our grace, and our compassion. Most of all that our forgiveness would be supernatural and not easily understood by those around us.

palms and geese

2012-03-07T04:20:00.001-08:00

photo courtesy of melodysheep
The same God that carved the mountains with his fingertipsholds us in the palm of his hands.

His arms are outstretched

and He's waiting.

He already knows what today holds,

it's surprises and it's

mundanity.

Stretch those wings, love.

Stretch them far.

Stretch them wide

and get ready.

We can't wait to see you fly

and if you fall

He's going to catch you.

geese and cathedral photo courtesy of my brother, Patrick Tanner.

no more

2012-03-06T01:30:00.000-08:00

My heart pounds out of my chest and I feel the thrumming in my veins gets faster as I weigh my options, stand up or stay seated, stand up or stay seated...but what if I'm the only one who stands? I don't want to be a distraction.
"But you have to stand," whispers a voice and I can't tell if it's in my heart or my head or in both places at once.
My body temperature rises and I'm sure that if the man in front of me turned around he would surely see beads of sweat on my brow if he were to take a closer look and I breathe a sigh of relief that I actually remembered to wear deodorant this morning. But I just don't want people to think that I am trying to get attention, God. I don't want to detract from You.
The voice reminds me again, it's tone intimating a relationship that knows my questions and my motives and still envelops me in his arms "Who are you worshiping, dear? It's just you and Me. Forget about them."My pulse levels out as I stand, arms lifted, eyes closed, "Just me and you, Dad. Just me and You."
Corporate worship is such a beautiful privilege; one that I take for granted all too often. To stand and raise my voice, to sing words of love and adoration, praise and glory to the One who showers grace and not be condemned for it is beyond what my synapses can comprehend. That being said, I've often sat with my rear glued to the pew, mouthing the rote lyrics, barely letting their meaning process in my brain. I've sat when I should have stood up. My arms have remained limp when they should have been lifted. But no more.
God's teaching me about worship and about Him and how even during corporate worship it is still all about He and I. My motives are not up for discussion or debate as long as they are right between Him and I. So what if someone questions why I am standing when the rest of the congregation sits. If he says "Stand" I must stand and if He says "Stay seated" then my rear had better be in that pew, but to be in the place of Him saying stand and me saying "No..."
It's a place I've been too often and I say no more.
photo courtesy of jrsnchzhrs

on the naming of babes

2012-03-05T01:00:00.000-08:00

I've been pretty obsessed with names since I was little. I was that twelve year old girl checking out the baby name book from the library because I was making lists of names that I liked for two very distinct purposes. First off, I love lists, so of course I needed a list of names I liked. Secondly, I need names for the characters in my numerous stories.

Despite my numerous lists of names none of my children's names were on those lists. I take that back. They were on the lists of names I liked, they just weren't in the top ten. As I discuss this please don't get offended if your child is named a name that I say I don't like. It's not that I don't like the name, I just knew it wasn't the name God intended for my child. I think names are so important and it is amazing to me to think that God knew my name long before my parents chose it for me and that the same goes for my children. God knew their names long before I had decided what they would be.

Zahara was originally going to be Sienna. Then we saw the name Sienna on a tabloid and it also means "reddish brown" which didn't really move me. While we stood in line at Wal-mart debating the name Sienna we saw the name Zahara on the same tabloid. Yes, it is the name of Angelina Jolie's little girl. We resigned ourselves to the fact that our daughter's name was a semi-famous one and from that point on she was Zahara. We thought we would name her Zahara Grace, but at the last minute changed it. It still starts with a G, but it isn't Grace. Fun fact: for her second birthday my grandmother still put Zahara Grace on the cake. LOL. Zahara is Arabic/Swahili for white-skinned/flower-like, brightness. My mom was a missionary in Ethiopia when she found out she was pregnant with me so I liked the Swahili reference and we liked the flower and brightness reference.

Roman's story is a little more interesting. Paul is a die-hard Italian. His family is actually more German, but that's besides the point. Anyways, he liked the name Guido. Guido...I really couldn't wrap my mind around a baby named Guido. I pointed out that while Paul and I have dark hair, we both have little brothers who have blonde hair and light eyes. What if this baby ended up like that? So, I kind of refused to name him Guido. Instead we narrowed it down to the names Duke and Roman. Since our best friends' dog was named Duke, Roman won out. I liked the name Gabriel, but that got blown out of the water faster than you can say, "Battleship." Later we got a cat named Guido and and black lab named Gabe. It's all about compromise. We went super-deep with Roman--it means citizen of Rome.

Viviana was named Cadence up until she was born. After the whole Guido debacle of 2007 I was thrilled when Paul suggested a semi-normal name for our third child so I automatically said I was okay with it thinking he would change his mind later. We are notorious for changing our minds. Basically, if we say "We chose this name ____" you can guarantee that won't be the baby's name. We were completely discharged by the time we chose Viviana. My favorite baby name book has lists of ethnic names and Viviana was on there. We liked the names Evie, Eva, Maria, Anna, Annamaria, and Evangeline. Viviana Maria kind of melded all of those together and we fell in love with the name. For the record, you pronounce it Viv-eee-on-a and yes I call her Anne-a. Does that make sense? Her name means one who is full of life, vibrant; and she lives up to that name!
Oh goodness, Isabella. The fact that I have a daughter named Isabella makes me laugh. When I was pregnant with Viviana I picked the name Emmett if it she was a boy. It was shot down because it was a character in the Twilight novels. I know, I know, then I go on to name my daughter the name of the lead character in that series. Ironic. However, after all of our struggles with Isabella's pregnancy I love that her name means "consecrated to God". I pray that it would ring true in her life. Isabella was also the first time that we kept the name a secret.
How did you name your children?Did you name them names that you'd always liked or were their names a compromise?I'd love to hear the "why's" of your baby-naming!

From Blah to Awe {book review}

2012-02-29T21:07:00.001-08:00

In most circles the words, "I'm bored with God" would be met with indignation and probably judgement, but in discussing that very issue in her book From Blah to Awe: Shaking Up A Boring Faith, Jenna Lucado Bishop takes the stigma away from asking the hard and sometimes downright hard questions.

Even though this book is aimed at teens it is written in a way that even a grown woman, like myself can benefit from reading it. Jenna utilizes easy to understand language and vivid true stories to drive home her points. This book is not a list of "do this" and "you will receive this". Instead it is a gentle look into what causes us to be bored and how we can remedy it.

I feel like Jenna reveals the truth that God is the same and it is us who need to examine our attitudes, but I love that she doesn't talk about it in a judgmental, guilt-producing way. She leads gently to the truth and simultaneously inspires you to rectify the situation--to do better--to not settle for the status quo that society tells us should be the norm.

This book is filled with real-life inspiration and down-to-earth, practical guidance. I feel like Jenna could have been my small group leader growing up. She asks poignant questions and then gives you room to answer them. The only thing that could have made this book better was a small group discussion dvd and even then I think it would be just another resource. It wouldn't necessarily make this book any better than it already was. I can' wait to put this book in the hands of my youth group.

I received a free copy of this book for review purposes from Merge PR. All opinions are my own and I did not receive any other form of compensation for my review. Links are affiliate links.

WIWW

2012-02-29T10:05:00.000-08:00

This week's What I Wore Wednesday post only has two pictures because I just plain forgot to take pictures this week. Oh well. I've been writing my little heart out and hanging around the house trying not to go crazy. I also "spring cleaned" the house. Yes, a wee bit early, but when the motivation hits (also known as my pastor and his family are coming over) I might as well take advantage of it. Ha!

scarf is Old Navy

That sweater that you can't really see is

Old Navy, but thrifted.

Our Salvation Army has a 25 cent

Monday. I got it on one of those Mondays.

The mocs were 75% off at Target a couple of weeks ago.

I should have bought two pairs.

The necklace is Noonday, again.

The shirt is Target

and the vest is completely and utterly thrifted.

Oh, and that mess behind me is my

workspace which triples as a

catch all

and idea board.

Allume from A Single Mom {commit2write}

2012-02-27T18:59:00.000-08:00

I check my hair in the mirror one last time before I head out of my room and into the noisy ballroom. I'm trying to project a cool and confident persona yet inside I'm shaking. Not only is there a voice whispering that my clothes aren't cute enough or hair hip enough, but it's also telling me that they will criticize me, ostracize me, tell me to leave. I ride the elevator in silence and paste a smile on my face and pray to God that the fear in my heart doesn't tell on my face. The ballroom is just a few feet away and I take a deep breath and walk inside....
women. So many women. I see a face I recognize, not because I've met them previously, but because I read their blog. I find a seat at an empty table and introduce myself..."Hi, yes, four kids, Hitherto and Henceforth...it's nice to meet you too. Oh, I've read your blog." I answer appropriately, yet I steer around the one fact that I know will be my disgrace...I'm a single mom.

Somewhere, somehow I believed the lie that in this group of life-giving, soul-filling women, my truth would be found out and I would be ostracized or at least told that I wasn't good enough. I would hear the saying "Your blog is only as good as your marriage" and my heart would stab as I thought "Since my marriage is non-existent, what does that mean for my blog?" I was so scared that it would be a whole two days before I would shyly admit that yes, I was indeed a single mom. and blogger.

Finally, like a millstone lifted from my chest I could breathe again and the same women who the voice said would ridicule and snidely judge instead encouraged me and told me I was doing a good job. Two even said they admired what I did every day. Their reaction was 100% unexpected.

When I expected judgement, they poured grace.
Where I was cowering from ridicule, they accepted me.
When I needed encouragement, they offered it willingly.

This is Allume. Last year, even before their name change, the women of Allume were holding high their torches and illuminating the lives of those around them. Let me encourage you, if you are thinking about going to Allume, but you're afraid that your story doesn't look "like everyone else's" then I promise you, Allume is the perfect place for you.

None of us are perfect. We are an amalgamation of Jesus writing His good through our not-so-pretty and publishing it for all the world to see HIS glory. Yes, my story is messy. It's got some drama, but it's also got a hero and that hero is the One the world needs most.

So don't hesitate. Tickets go on sale this Thursday, March 1, 2012 at midnight EST. Hope to see you at Allume.

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growing pains

2012-02-27T01:30:00.000-08:00

I gaze about my cluttered house and see evidence of change in every corner. My bookshelves hold chapter books that my six year old (who also lost her first two teeth) can now read. Books that I've saved from my childhood are now bringing enjoyment to my oldest little.

I was organizing and cleaning today. I'm trying to hoe out the junk (of which we have a lot!) and in doing so I noticed that time is waning away until my infant seat will find a new home. There will come a time, shortly, that an infant seat will no longer grace my home and I'm a little sad about that, but I'm also thrilled at the four kiddos I have and their progress.

Excuse the messy living room, but Isabella's new trick is pushing a car around while she crawls. I just cannot get enough of this little lady. She even makes vrooming noises while she pushes them. That being said she also growls and giggles hysterically. I am enjoying her so much.

She is scrumptious

and that hair. goodness, that hair.

Top Ten February Round Up

2012-02-25T09:01:00.000-08:00

1. Baklava

I've been learning how to make this stuff and The Pioneer Woman's got a killer recipe for it. I tweaked it a bit and used more butter, but in spite of the tweaks, I think Ree would be proud. How can you go wrong with more butter? My thoughts exactly.

The secret is local, unfiltered honey. It's denser flavor adds a great depth to the baklava.

Goodness, I'm craving it now.

Good thing I have a pan of it in my kitchen.

2. Kisses from Katie

Last weekend while waiting for my friend to meet me at Applebee's I started reading this book. Let me just say that God is all over this book. When you almost start crying in a booth at an every day restaurant in the US, you know that you need to keep reading. Here's one of my favorite quotes...it's found in the foreward.

"...they simply pay attention to the everyday needs of others, even if it's only one person." p. XI

3. Little House on the Prairie

We are somewhat addicted. Last summer while trekking through garage sales I happened upon the DVD series for seasons 1 and 2 for a whopping $2 each. I know, score!

{picture me, saying this while doing a fist pump}

I held them captive until Zahara's birthday in December and then unleashed the

prairie fever...

we are on season four and

dang, I had forgotten how much I disliked Nellie and her mother.

4. Lice

Eeew, yuck, gross! I know.

We had lice back in November.

We went through all the procedures and bagged up all the fluffy

animals and pillows and put them away.

They're supposed to stay bagged up for a month,

but I couldn't resist...

I left them bagged up for almost three months.

I finally brought them out last week.

5. Isabella Turns 1

Just yesterday I said something along the lines of "Wow, I haven't bought any of those since before the baby was born." Goodness, it's been a year. We celebrated with a party that was an epic fail and double ear infections a week or two later. As we speak she is grasping my leg for balance while practicing her standing skills. I'm in trouble with four mobile kids.

6. The Civil Wars

One of my friends told me about them, somewhat indirectly through facebook.

I love them now. Wow, haunting and lyrical, this group is sure to be a favorite for a long time.

source

7. Injuries

Ana looks like she was in The Hunger Games. She fell off the couch and got into a fight with her brother's remote control SUV. She won, though the SUV got a good scratch in.

No wonder the strange lady was overbearing and annoying about my daughter's falling out of the cart. Goodness.

8. The Plague

The plague hit. Not the Bubonic, but the stomach plague and then the sore throat sickness. All of us, including the Dad were down for the count over the course of a week. I'll spare you the gory details, but we're all feeling much better!

9. Planning

I'm planning for next month and I've got a to-do list a mile long. Here's my top three goals...

1) Kids and me, outside, 15 minutes a day;

walking in and out of stores/loading and unloading the cars does not count. (Is it obvious that I hate taking kids out in the winter?)

2) Finishing my #1 big writing project which needs to be 50% finished by Mar 1

with the remaining 50% due Mar 10. Eeek!

3) Finishing my #2 writing project. I'm hoping to finish it by Mar 31.

I'll unveil it soon, but frankly, I'm scared out of my mind.

It's a good place to be.

10. Pizza Night

As a single mom evenings are pretty monotonous.

You make dinner, feed it to the kids, they fight like mad because they don't like it,

then they go crazy and you try to wrangle them into bed.

If your kids eat all their dinner and then beg to go to sleep,

please, don't make me feel badly in the comments.

So, to combat the monotony, a friend and I have monthly pizza nights (her hubby works odd hours).

There were seven kids, ages 8, 7, 6, 4, 2, 2 and 1 as well as two adults...I'll spare you our ages.

What did you do in February?

I'd love to hear about it!

grit

2012-02-24T05:04:00.000-08:00

Source: google.ru via Lisaveta on Pinterest

I don't want to grit my teeth just to get through a day. Sure there are certain tasks, like cleaning up bodily fluids that don't exactly strike my fancy, but I don't want my children to remember a mom who always grit her teeth and just finished a job for the sake of putting it behind her.

I'm called and commanded to find joy; find joy in the cleaning of the disgusting bathroom, find joy in the locked door of my house the key to which lies inside the house on the counter.

I'm to find joy in the heaps of laundry, in the legos littering my table (and more commonly, my floor) and the budget that stretches just enough, but never more.

He is to be my joy, my rock, my comfort. My shelter in the ever pressing storm that whips about and tears at my heart and my head and all that I thought I was. It is through this joy that I am reminded I am His and I am safe. Safe from hurt? No. Safe from destruction, yes.

Gritting my teeth is my natural knee jerk response, but with every clench of my teeth, bone against bone I am saying, "I can do this on my own," instead of God, I can't. I'm not enough. I need you.

I don't want to be like that.

reality

2012-02-23T01:00:00.000-08:00

source

The air was thick with dirty diaper stink. I still have yet to figure out how such a small little body can produce such a stench, but now was the time for action and not thought. I dried my hands and turned to the little lady. Smiling she gazed up at me and for a split second, until I had to breathe again I forgot the reason for my pause in cleaning. I picked her up and proceeded to change her diaper stopping at the appropriate times to giggle, blow kisses on her soft belly, and tickle her delicious toes. After reassembling the layers of diapers, onesies, and pants I made my way back to the kitchen and found this...

for those of you who want to know
it is baking powder

I grab the camera and take a few shots trying to maintain my composure as I determine where to even begin cleaning up a mess like this. I take Ana off the counter and start to clean while she is in the other room trying to make another mess.

It's quite easy for a blogger to put on a "happy" voice on their blog instead of portraying reality. Of course, I'm not going to be so real that I tell you every sordid detail of my overly dramatic life, but I want to share with you the reality of life as a mom and a single one at that.

One very big reality is that most days I cannot handle being a mom.

After this incident with the baking powder there was the toothpaste graffiti incident in the bathroom and at least once a day I have a bodily fluid incident with at least one of my children...I guess that's what you get when you have three children who are/were recently in diapers. I struggle with keeping my cool and not just throwing goldfish on the floor and saying "Go for it." Even as I write this (at 9 pm) two of my "helpers" are awake and quite frankly, I just want to be alone. I want to stop worrying about who is where and doing what and I just want to do my own thing.

After the surviving the baking soda I was at my wit's end, a fact that seven hours of sleep would not cure and I awakened the next morning to the same children (funny how they don't change overnight) and the same situation, except I actually had to go somewhere that morning. I did what any crazed mom does and I called my mom.

"I can't do this anymore. You won't believe what they did?!? I have to go to a training and they're not behaving and I have four loads of unfolded laundry on my table and I just can't!" I vented into the phone word after word, sentence upon sentence for at least a full five minutes. I only stopped to breathe and even that was not as often as medically indicated for life on this earth.

Like any good mom, she praised me for what I was doing right and reminded me that I tend to, ahem, bite off more than I can chew. Then, instead of telling me what I had to or should cut out, she encouraged me to examine my life, my schedule and my children's needs and go from there. I need a mom talk every once in a while. The most important thing she said was, "You're right, Kristina. You aren't enough, but God is. So you need to do what He wants you to do and forget the rest--whatever that may look like for you."

So here's to not being enough and letting Him fill in the gaps.

source

What I Wore Wednesday {back again}

2012-02-22T01:00:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted a What I Wore Wednesday for quite some time because I've been lazy. I haven't cared about what I'm wearing as long as it's clean and why blog about something you don't give two hoots about? My thoughts exactly. However, I'm back. Most of these were taken by one of my children and I think they did a pretty good job....
dress & moccasins - Targetjeans - thriftednecklace - noonday collectionBella - totally thrifted

dress - Baby Gap

leggings - thrifted

boots - this week's thrifty SCORE!

jeans - thriftedmoccasins (they rarely leave my feet) - Targetshirt - thrifted

did you find anything good at a thrifty/salvo store recently?I'd love to hear about it.

friend or foe {commit2write link-up}

2012-02-21T02:00:00.000-08:00

source

The dishes are dirty--again. Orange cracker crumbs are litter the beige surface of my carpet and I spy one stuck to my toddler's rear end as she toddles across the floor. I'm not sure what's for dinner and even though I did take a shower today, I can't really remember if I brushed my teeth which is probably a good sign that I should just go brush them again. Two times won't hurt anything. Shouts intensify as one child's suggestion for a movie is shot down by the other children and I finally restore peace by choosing the peacemaker, Rio. Finally settled in front of the TV, I'm ready to go and for the first time today I'll sit in front of my computer. My mind immediately wanders as my fingers, against my will punch in facebook and twitter. Goodness, they have a mind of their own ;-). I reluctantly close the tabs and settle in to my word processor.

The clean page gleams empty as the cursor blinks expectantly. There are days when the blank page feels like it is working against me, taunting my inability to ascribe meaning onto it. Then there are days like today, when I've been doing everything in my power to get to this point. I've been dreaming about the empty cursor waiting for my words to give it motion--my touch to assign meaning. For days now a plot has been ruminating in my head and now it's finally onto paper. Today I will write. Now.

Are there days when you feel like the empty page is your friend? Or more often is it your foe?

Purpose to befriend it today.

Commit2write is a community of writers encouraging

each other to practice the art of writing

more consistently.

To join?

Just link up a post from last week

and TRY to write 300 words

4 times over the next 7 days.

Then come back next week.

We tweet with the hashtag #commit2write.

Love Letter Quotes {Top Ten}

2012-02-20T01:30:00.000-08:00

source

It's resting place was beneath my bed. Worn and frayed the Adidas box sat there and every time I was given a new letter or memento I would stash it in the box. I remember the day that I took the box, full of papers and dried flowers out to the fire pit and threw it in. I probably shouldn't confess the strange satisfaction it gave me to watch it all burn just like the relationship had. Have you ever held on to the keepsakes of another relationship once you've moved on? For me it was almost sacrilegious to keep my letters from a former boyfriend while another one was in my life so I would always get rid of them...but I guess some other people don't feel that way and that's how Other People's Love Letters 150 Letters You Were Never Supposed to See came about.

Basically, the author asked all of his friends and family to ask their friends and family to dig through their stuff and find a letter or two from one of their relationships to send in. Some of the letters are love letters, others are break-up letters, others are letters about turning someone down...it was so much fun to read. Of course because of the macabre side of me, I totally read the book on Valentine's Day, but even so, it was funny. So here are my Top Ten quotes from the book.

1. "Thank You, I Hate You, I'm Sorry "

2. "And I shall love you until I draw my last breath, and beyond." -- 11th letter.

3. My favorite part about this book is that it isn't just typed script from letters. Instead it is actually scans and pictures of the letter. Like this quote is a two-page spread of an advertisement in the paper and the following note is handwritten, "Wanted A.S.A.P. Pretty girl, **, breathtaking eyes, sweet voice, great style, good cook, great smile, smells like spring, etc. Call-this guy." - 19th letter

4. "If you could have seen me during the 15 minutes before your wake-up call, you would have seen a man watching a woman sleep. You would have seen tenderness in his eyes. You would have seen a smile on his lips. And if you had looked super-super hard, you might have seen the love growing in his heart." - 25th letter

5. This one was written on 11 June 69 upon finding out that he was a father. It was addressed to "My E," and it reads, "You'll have to forgive me but I've been down the O-club for a while and I'm a little tipsy, but I don't care because I'm filled with so much for you and I could bust. I wish I was with you now." (commenting here: inexplicably sweet and I giggled because some things are the same whether it was 43 years ago or today.) --35th letter

6. "There is a spot on my dresser that my eye catches the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night and I can think of nothing I'd like better than to have your picture there..." 41st letter

7. "Hey, I am sorry for making you feel so bad. I will talk to you later. bye. Nick" 42nd letter. Sometimes it only takes a small, simple, short note. Written on a post-it.

8. "...I know you're in desperate need of some relaxation (and getting into the bath isn't your idea of the most hygienic way to do it), this card comes complete with a promise from me to clean both our bathrooms thoroughly--including scrubbing the tubs." written from a husband to a wife in a card for Mother's Day. Yes, sometimes stuff like this is the absolute best! 73rd letter

9. "You know, it seems I have been in the doghouse since I met you. Maybe one of thes days I will somehow redeem myself." 94th letter

10. "Both of us know what tomorrow is and what it might be. Just in case it isn't what either of us realy expects, it is important to me that you know that I love you. You have been so wonderful for me for the past 23 plus years and almost 20 full years as my wife. Thanks for all of it." note 109. You'll have to read the book to find out what happened to this couple.

So, do you keep your love letters?

When was the last time you wrote one?

Me? Too long ago. Unless you count

the love note to my daughter in her

lunch box a week or so ago....

If you asked me....

2012-02-18T19:32:00.000-08:00

If you asked me.....

...what my favorite color is, I'd tell you it's green, but I always choose purple.

....where I go when I close my eyes I'd tell you I don't dream much because I'm exhausted.

....what song makes my heart hurt, I'd tell you this one

Poison & Wine by The Civil Wars on Grooveshark

....what I ate for dinner, I'd say crackers and cheese because I had a massive lunch

....what I'm reading (dude, you know better than to ask that?!? I need a whole post) ok, just a few

If you were to ask me what my overall mood was this week I'd tell you that it was a bit melancholy. It was a rough week for various reasons, but it's over now and tomorrow is a new day.
If you were to ask me what I'm obsessing over, I'd tell you this youtube video which is choreographed to the song above

and words.I'm obsessing over words, and language, and their meaning and the intensity of the fact that Jesus was The Word and we use words every day to communicated everythingand how quickly they spew volcanically from my mouthand how at the end of the day I am still trying to take them back.
So there's what I'd say,
if you asked me.
I got the lovely idea for this post from my friend Casey.

Delight

2012-02-17T05:10:00.000-08:00

It's taken me six years to even scratch the surface of delight when it comes to my children. Maybe you'll think I'm a bad mom because it has been a journey of years to look at the mess on the floor and instead of huffing about I am able to laugh. I mean, throwing Nesquik must have been fun? That chocolatey powder covering your hands, grinding between your palms, a zesty, rich flavor on your tongue?

It's the belly laughs that get me the most. The ones where Bella starts giggling for no apparent reason and works herself into such a giggle frenzy that she falls back onto her bottom. Her four little fangs peek out from behind widely spread lips as she chortles. Sometimes her sisters or brothers have incited her joy and other times it is purely from an overflow of happiness.

When was the last time I laughed like that?
When was the last time you laughed like that?

Sure, life isn't all grins and giggles, but it can be mostly grins and giggles. Especially if we take each day, wrap around what we know is Truth....

....that God loves us infinitely...

....that we are enough just as we are in Him.....

.....that He promises to provide....

....that He promises to work towards two things--His glory and our good....

....and lastly, we will meet Him one day and all will be made well....

I'm going to go join in the Nesquik party now....

Single and the Unrelated 0

2012-02-14T20:56:00.000-08:00

I scored a 0.

Oh yes, I did. Recently I listened to a speaker talk about the 5 Love Languages and did you know that you can go to their website and take a free assessment to figure out your love language? Well you can and I did.

On this day when the rest of the world is waxing poetic about love and all its wonders I am sitting here looking at results that I admit deserve a good laugh and snort. I took the assessments both as a single and a wife because frankly, I'm both right now.

9 Words of Affirmation

6 Quality Time

9 Receiving Gifts

4 Acts of Service

2 Physical Touch

10 Words of Affirmation

10 Quality Time

7 Receiving Gifts

3 Acts of Service

0 Physical Touch

So obviously you can see that acts of service and last, but not least physical touch are not even hovering in my radar. In fact, physical touch is shut down, but if you tell me I scrubbed that toilet bowl well, then honey, you just made my day.

A few days ago Hayley from The Tiny Twig did a round up of Valentine's day gifts for dudes and I noticed this book in her list....

Other People's Love Letters:
150 Letters You Were Never Supposed to See

Intrigued? I was. Am. Still am. I immediately and I mean "kids, don't stab your sister with your knife, just hang on a second while I reserve it from the library" intrigued.

It came in today. I picked it up and read it in the car while my children (who had fallen asleep on the ride home) napped in their car seats. This book was so much fun that I'm going to tell you some of my favorite quotes in another post.

Lovely.

Then I took all my kids to the bounce houses because they needed to work off all the Valentine candy energy.

How was your Valentine's day?

**book link is an affiliate link

Forget {Commit2Write Link Up}

2012-02-14T05:08:00.000-08:00

It's early in the evening, but already my patience is late. A spilled Gatorade marring the carpet--red, of course and a bag of salty pretzels deliberately dumped on the floor is all it takes to send me over the edge of tired and into the abyss of exhausted and at-her-wit's-end mommy. The tears threaten and the enemy takes advantage of my weakness and starts pelting arrows at me in the form of self-deprecation, and not the humorous kind.

I forget that I'm not superwoman and I let myself get to the point of exhaustion when I don't sleep like I should, when I pack too much into one day, when I forget my limitations. Who suffers when this happens? Is it me? A bit. Is it my children--absolutely. I call a hands down truce with my kids and we all tumble to bed. Me, them, everyone. Ten hours of sleep later and my head and heart are on the right way and I can finally think again.

Take time to get healthy. Sometimes it is as easy as going to bed early. Other times it means beginning a habit or quitting another habit. Whatever it takes, get healthy. Don't let yourself get to the point of utter exhaustion where your family members suffer. Love them better than that.

Now you know why my Commit2Write Link Up is up late. Sorry about that, but I was sleeping. Have an amazing Valentine's day. I'm celebrating with my amazingly gorgeous dates--oh yes, more than one. They are currently munching on toast and fruit and later we'll have a full coarse of baby cereal, fruit, and a healthy dose of goldfish. How are you celebrating?

Commit2Write is a community of people who want to practice the art of writing more consistently and encourage each other as well. Each week we commit to write 300 words on 4 of the next 7 days. Every Tuesday we link up here at hitherto & henceforth. You can link any post you want.

All I ask is that you comment on another person's post that's in the link-up. It's all about encouragement and accountability.

Also, some BIG news. Commit2Write is going to be moving. It will be changing homes to a bigger and better home...it will be kind of like moving from a tent into a real live house that's fully furnished and painted and just waiting for you to show up. It's going to be epic. So, this week and next week we will still be here, but the first week of March, well, keep your eyes out for the details....

Do and Don't Suggestions for Valentine's Day {A Top Ten Post}

2012-02-13T12:32:00.000-08:00

It's almost Valentine's Day and I'm crossing my fingers that you aren't on the list of horrible Valentine forgetful people. However, undoubtedly some of you are so here is my attempt at last minute Valentine's Day presents your wife will love.

source

1) Teach your son (if you have one) to aim...and I'm not talking about an arrow. Teach him to get it into the toilet and then teach him to wipe it up if he misses. Pow! You're husband of the year.

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2) Don't buy her the box of chocolates. If you are going to get her sweets/candy/morsels of sugary deliciousness it needs to be in conjunction (that means with) another gift. The ladies spend most of the year worrying about that extra five pounds. They don't need to add the stress of "if I don't eat ALL of the delicious candy then he'll think I don't like it" to their lives. We like the candy, we're thankful that you thought of us, but please, wallowing in a guilty stupor is probably not what you had in mind for the rest of Valentine's night. Do yourself a favor and use moderation with the sweets. This leads directly into number three

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3) Don't buy her the gym membership. Unless your wife has been dropping hints the size of the a-bomb around your house, she will take it the wrong way which will in turn lead her to binge on the after Valentine's sales of those chocolates you didn't buy her. A correctly dropped hint would be,

"Honey/Darling/(insert name here) I want a gym membership to such and such a gym

more than anything else. Please buy it for me for Valentine's day.

If you do that, me love you long time"

Anything less than that, boys and you'll be risking your neck and your eternal happiness. Also, if she says she wants it from a particular gym, don't use this as an opportunity to wow her with your bargain shopping prowess. I promise you she knows exactly what gym she wants to work out and and why.

source

4) If you've got a reader as a spouse/girlfriend/special someone a gift card is the best. Why?
They are probably somewhat anal retentive about their "to-read" lists and just because you peeked in their journal or on their Shelfari to see what their "to-read" list said, I can guarantee they have a "to-buy" list and just because a book is on their "to-read" list, doesn't guarantee it's presence on the "to-buy" list. If you don't get it, you obviously aren't a reader.

source

5) Not your average movie tickets. No, mister, go beyond just the movie tickets...plan the babysitter, get home from work early so your wife can shower ALONE and put her make up on in peace. Then...take her to the movies...there are some interesting ones out now....

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and if you can't get out on Valentine's day because all of the babysitters were busy, tickets to an upcoming movie like Hunger Games (in conjunction with another gift) might get you off the hook, or maybe that's just me.

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6.) So a massage might be a little cliche, but then again if you've ever had one, you'll know it is one of the best.gifts.ever.

7.) Allora Handmade is a favorite shop of mine to drool over; I just have to be careful not to get any drool on my computer. Just look at her lovely creations...

source

Add caption

8) Do buy her a gift that keeps on giving such as this scarf whose production saves women and men from human trafficking. Not only does everyone win in this situation, when someone asks her about her scarf she'll be able to spread the story and increase awareness....you're the hero.

source

9) Do think in themes....

Source: startsomethingthatmatters.com via Melissa on Pinterest

and

Source: ilovedyouforever.tumblr.com via Erica on Pinterest

10) If your significant other is a blogger then please, do buy her a ticket to Allume Social. It's happening this October and tickets go on sale in a mere sixteen days. Tick tock.

What would you add to this list? Any comical do's or don'ts?

a month of Sundays

2012-02-11T19:24:00.000-08:00

a month ago I decided to try and unplug for a Sunday. I thought it might be restful to turn of the screen and not open my laptop on a Sunday; maybe it would help me focus on other things. After four Sundays of this I've learned a few things

You have to plan. I woke up with ideas of brown eyes and an annoyed little girl named Amy in my head. I vaguely remembered a story about Amy Carmichael being upset about her eye color and her story would be a wonderful illustration for the Sunday school lesson I was supposed to be teaching later that day. I did open my computer to check my facts. Then I closed it. All day.

Grace. Give yourself grace. I totally forgot that the recipes that I wanted to cook were naturally all on Pinterest, so one of the Sundays I had to hop over there for a recipe. I didn't however, check my facebook, or Twitter, or my email.

The best part about this whole experience is that my list of writing "to-do's" could get completely put on hold. There was no pressing boulder trying to squash me during worship or an overwhelming "I must get this done" distracting me while I played with my children. I was able to actually relax while not feeling as if I needed to accomplish a task because let's face it, the to-do list never fully changes to the "done" list.

So what did I do while I wasn't on the computer? I had some friends over.

I folded laundry, though somehow my dining room table is still covered
after my friends left, of course.

source

I read some books

and I enjoyed my kiddos.

I did open my laptop to listen to my music.

And lastly,

my little brother got engaged

and then came over to visit

this is me with him and

my cluttered kitchen

(jeans: GAP thrifted, shirt: DeclareIt thrifted,

sweater: thrifted, headband: borrowed from Isabella)

I completely recommend going unplugged

even if it is just for one day.

Have you ever?

What was your experience?

some of the above links are affiliate links

epic fail

2012-02-11T05:54:00.000-08:00

Isabella turned 1 on Wednesday

and her "party" was an epic fail,

but we can laugh about it now.

Somewhere in my head I want to plan

a themed birthday party with all

the accoutrements, but alas, I can't.

She's one.

She won't remember.

So, her dad was going to come over

after work and we were going to celebrate.

Keep in mind that Daddy works half an hour away

and Bella goes to bed at 6:30.

In all my genius I thought

I'll put her down a little early

then we'll wake her up.

Sounds grand, doesn't it?

"Edward was about to kiss me and you woke me up!!!!"

What is that?

What's he doing over there?

Are you sure I should be that close to the fire?

"No!!!! You'll get your germs on it!"

"I wasn't done licking the candle!"

I'm thanking my lucky stars that she won't remember this.

Have you ever had a birthday party that

failed?

I'd love to hear about it so we can commiserate...

someone's one {!!!!}

2012-02-07T19:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Bella,

Today we're celebrating one year of you.

A year we weren't sure we'd ever have.

(16 weeks)

A year ago we finally met you

and you were completely worth

the wait.

(first picture)

We're still trying to figure out who you remind us of the most.

Soon after your birth you took after your brother

Roman and were sick...then you rode in your

fancy schmancy "limo" aka ambulance

to the NICU.

(sick baby)

(Valentine's day card that the NICU gave us)

and God healed you at the NICU.

So you came home,

but we didn't forget.

We didn't forget our friends Katie and Kyle

and your birthday pal Kaden.

We prayed and read his story and hoped for

the day that he would come home too.

Somewhere in my head I imagined Katie and I

getting you two together for a one year visit to the

zoo or something like that.

Instead, Kaden is celebrating with Jesus

and you're celebrating with us.

Bella, we can't celebrate any of your milestones

without remembering Kaden.

I don't know why he's not here.

It's not a question that I would even begin to answer;

and that's why we remember him.

That's why on your birthday we sing

happy birthday to you

and then happy birthday to Kaden.

Because he's part of your story.

Katie, Kyle, you're part of Bella's story too.

You came home, Bella,

but don't ever take that for granted.

All you can do is live--

live fully.

(my fave picture of us)

(photos courtesy of AJCoombs photography)

(what are sisters for? it's like looking at clones with these two)

(first cookie)

Bella:

18 lbs.

crawling on hands and knees now

waves

shakes her head yes when she wants something

loves: mommy, sisters, anything fluffy--blankies, stuffed animals, etc.

bananas, dried cranberries, goldfish,

cookies ahem

4 teeth

has a contagious belly laugh

holds her hands up for mom when she walks by

I'm so thankful that you are in our family,

Bella.

We love you

and can't wait for what

tomorrow will bring.

hugs and kisses, squirrel.

expect (commit2write link-up}

2012-02-06T19:44:00.000-08:00

Dark haired and fragile she sleeps warmly swaddled into her blankets. An IV runs from her scalp to a plastic bag attached to a nearby pole and I hold her closely as I think about the numerous times (more than ten) that they had to stick her just to get that IV placement. Her eyes are shut and her rosy lips are dry from dehydration, but she purses them in her sleep and makes sucking motions. I whisper prayers over her as I repeat over and over in my head, not again, not again, not again, God.

Three years earlier my son Roman was diagnosed with a bowel obstruction and an e. coli blood infection after experiencing the same symptoms with which Isabella was now presenting. At one point in my pregnancy I vividly remember telling my mom, "I don't know what I will do if we have another NICU baby, but then again, there's no point in worrying about that. The chances that this baby will be sick like Roman are slim to none." At that point, I couldn't wrap my brain around making it through the uncertainty of the NICU. I didn't want to go back there.

At one point I heard Beth Moore say that God doesn't give you grace for your vain imaginations or something to that effect and I must say that a year later I completely agree with her. Prior to being faced with a NICU experience my brain couldn't comprehend getting through it again--it scared me completely, but once we were actually faced with the situation, there was peace. Was it fun? Heck, no. Scary as all hell, but did we go through the experience and come out stronger? Yes. Resoundingly.

I think back to that day in the hospital room a year later and I can remember that I was working my way through A Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp; learning to give thanks and where do I find myself? With a very sick newborn whose health I can' t control and He asks me to give thanks. It starts small, with the obvious, thank you for a good birth, thank you that the family could visit, but it then turns to those thank you's that you never thought would be said, but are ever more precious because of the circumstances...

thank you that I got to meet her

thank you that I got to name her

thank you that we got the IV in

thank you that she is here...now

I pause as a question comes to mind

"If you only get these two days with her, can you still be thankful?"

yes, I vow.

Because two is better than one

and one is better than none

and each moment is a gift

and how can I live willing to give

You my child and yet pray as

though to hang on forever

and remember that You are still good?

365 days later

I'm still holding her.

still loving her

still thanking God that

I got more than two days,

but if 365 is all I have

will I still praise

Him?

Have you written something this week?

If so, we want you to share it!

Commit2Write is all about encouraging writers

to WRITE

consistently.

The challenge is to write 300 words on 4 out of the next 7 days!

Take the challenge by linking up a post from the previous week,

just please comment on another post in the queue

Thanks!

for the love of a cell phone

2012-02-06T10:47:00.000-08:00

At 38 weeks pregnant my abdomen was swollen and uncomfortable. Bending over was a feat and I spent most of my days trying to figure out how to bribe my children into picking things up off the floor so I wouldn't have to bend over. I was ready to have.this.kid. For reals.

However, like every other prego I know there was still my looming to-do list and on my "must accomplish before this baby is born" list there was a looming script that read septic tank. Oh yes. We lived in the sticks--read in a thriving metropolis with a blinking red light and sometime about the beginning of January Paul and I started noticing that hey, there's a rather large puddle of standing water in the middle of our snow -laden backyard. Paul being the handyman that he is informed me that something was wrong with our septic and we should probably fix it before the baby was born. (emphasis and addition of said timeline by ME) So that brings us to the night before, which is consequently the title of this little tale. The night before Isabella was born.

I felt like I had gotten run over and was sitting in our basement perusing cloth diaper chat rooms and probably waiting for the next episode of The Bachelor to either load on my computer or come on TV. I don't remember which it was. Paul's outside working on the septic tank, which frankly is a little embarrassing that our septic had issues, but whatev, I was over it. About nine pm Paul comes in the front door in search of what every young, twenty-seven year old man wants at nine o'clock at night,

"Hey Tanner (he calls me by my maiden name), do we have an emergency ladder?"

What the? I know. I moved my large self upstairs, retrieved the ladder because there was no way he was tracking his septic tank self through my house for a ladder. "Call me if you need me." I said as he returned to his work, ladder in hand. Little did I know how stupid that comment was.

It was another hour or so before Paul came to bed and I was completely out of it because as we all know now, I went into labor at five AM the following day, but as I was clutching my stomach and timing contractions the next day, this is the story I was told to keep my mind off the mind-boggling pain that was threatening to rip my body in two...okay, truthfully, this was just to entertain me so I didn't freak out on the bad roads while we were trying to get to the hospital. The "rip my body in two" pain wouldn't happen for another few hours. anyways, here's my take on what happened.

Source: google.com via Jamie on Pinterest

Paul leaned over the edge of the septic tank putting the finishing touches on the newly installed pump. Reaching just a wee bit further he tightened the last knob as he saw, as if in slow motion his cell phone fall past his face. Splat. The phone landed in the inch or two of sludge still lining the tank.

For any other phone, this would have meant certain and irreversible death, but not for this phone, no, knowing his proclivity for dropping and submerging his phone, Paul had thought ahead and purchased a waterproof phone. But poop-proof? He wasn't sure they made them poop-proof.

Never mind, he thought to himself. I'll just get a new one, but at that very moment, he saw the purple light flash as he stared at his death-sentenced phone--a new text message. He had to get the phone now. He stared, longingly at the phone now sitting six feet below him, covered in slime and headed into the house. He was sure they had an emergency ladder and that would be just the ticket.

Opening the door to the house he called out to his wife, "Hey Tanner, do we have an emergency ladder?" About ten seconds later his wife's swollen abdomen appeared, followed shortly by the rest of her body.

"Sure, let me go grab it." she answered and he watched her waddle up the stairs hoping that the baby stayed put for just a few more days. She returned in just a few moments with the emergency ladder and handed it to him.

"How's it going?" she asked referring to the septic work.
"It's just about fixed." he said.
"Ok, well don't fall in. Call me if you need me."
If only she knew what I needed this for, he thought.

Turning back out side he unfurled the large ladder into the tank and descended down the ladder. The tank was dark and dank. Disgusting would not even begin to describe the belly of this huge aluminum system. He could see the phone, just lying there and tried reaching it, but even balanced on the last rung of the metal ladder he couldn't touch the phone. He climbed back up the rungs careful to hold tightly to the cold and slippery metal. He grabbed the shovel and proceeded back down the ladder. Balancing precariously he reached out the shovel and scooped up the phone. Don't drop it. Just don't drop it.

He drew the shovel back to himself and began the climb out of the septic tank. After throwing the shovel and the phone onto the ground he pulled himself out of the septic tank and surveyed the damages--repaired septic tank, gross shovel, disgusting phone. He picked up the mess and headed inside to sterilize the phone, but first, that message. With the tips of his fingers as to not touch as much of the phone as possible he lifted it apart and read the message for which he had descended into a filthy septic tank.

From: Luke

Text: LOL

got this {random and straightforward}

2012-02-04T19:19:00.000-08:00

Self reflection can be a little intense sometimes, eh? I really don't run around all the time pondering what I could have done differently, but sometimes, especially when I'm tired, I start running through the ticker tape in my head of where I could have done things differently or maybe where I would be if I had made a different decision. It is a moot point, y'all. Absolutely moot.

I'm learning how to answer, moment by moment, the question of

"Will you trust Me?"

I would love to say that the answer always comes easily and that I feel completely surrendered and all those other fancy words that Christians like to say, but honestly, it is a constant struggle. I cannot tell you the times that I have looked heavenward or placed my pen in my journal only to write the words,

what the heck are you doing?

I don't understand.

and you know what? He doesn't turn away. He doesn't take my questions and ask me why I am asking them. He doesn't judge me for doubting. Instead he opens his arms again and reminds me of WHO he is. That He is. That He is grace. That He is grace enough. Where I am not, He is. I am in awe that a God who became man would love me; would die for me and would then use me to bring Him glory.

He not only saw my story--beginning, middle, and end...He WROTE my story and chose me not in spite of my story, but because within my story he sees the thread of Jesus and He wants to do the same for you.

I find myself close to tears a lot recently at the oddest and most inopportune times (like when I'm teaching Sunday school in front of a bunch of teenagers or while I'm writing random blog posts). I'm seeing a change though, my tears are no longer from a heart of "why is this happening" but instead are changing to a "thank You that You've got me...that You've got this."

If I can leave you with one thought today, let it be this....

He's got you and He's got this,

whatever your this may be.

Source: piccsy.com via Hunter on Pinterest

given the chance

2012-02-02T13:10:00.000-08:00

Source: moastidrom.blogspot.com via Kristina on Pinterest

Given the chance

I'd take an hour.

Sixty minutes of undivided

eye to eye contact

with you.

I'd ask you

what He's like.

What it's like

being there

and how much longer

i will remain here;

palms pressed

to your cheeks

iris dark with understanding

knowing time is fleeting.

Love spoken in silence

until you disappear

and go to that place.

Away from me.

Do you know that

I miss you.

My dreams are filled with you

Do you know

I never stopped loving you?

Given the chance.

sisters

2012-01-31T20:07:00.000-08:00

I have one brother. That's him in all of his tattooed glory playing good uncle/bad brother by giving my children loud, battery eating presents for Christmas. I love him for remembering my kids and simultaneously I curse him as my six year-old sings into her battery operated keyboard. It was just him and I growing up and while I could wax eloquent about our adventures together, that would confuse you as to why I named this post sisters--maybe I should have named it "lack of sisters".

I used to loathe not having sisters. I really really wanted one. However, I've come to find that some of my close friends are literally my sisters. Some of them I even talk to more often than my brother (yes, there is that guy factor as well). This past week one of my non-blood sisters had a baby and her sister came up to visit and I drove over to their house to visit, chat, snuggle and take photos.
Also, I'm linking up with Darcy for her Sweet Shot Tuesday and truthfully, I think any of these photos qualify :-)

Angela and Grey

Grey, who melts my heart and was such a trooper through the pictures.

Grey again.

Jess.

Can you get more stunning than this picture?

Jess, Angela and I went to high school together. One was a grade above me, the other one below me and we played soccer and basketball together. We also fought. Sure, we were friends, but there was definite snark, jealousy, envy, and plain out competition between us. You know how girls are. Now, however we are more mature and we're finding that we fit like family.

We ate yummy food. Laughed. Kissed babies and watched Angela almost fall in the river. Okay, well, she didn't almost fall. She was climbing along the bank and we were calling out encouragement, you know the encouragement that sounds like, "You're going to fall in and we're not coming in after you!"

the only thing that would have

made the day better is if I had

brought more dessert.

Are there any women in your life who
act as sisters even though you
may not be related through blood?

ready, set, start.

2012-01-30T19:39:00.000-08:00

Poised, hunched, bulging, waiting for the moment, the moment to lurch forward into the fray. The moment they've been anticipating for years. Years. The bullet explodes from the barrel as hammer meets steel and combustion occurs. Gates burst open and heaving muscles pelt into the foray of dirt and dust, jockey and sweat.
Run.
Run hard, run long, don't give up.
Give it your all.

Many times writing is like that. We prepare, prepare, prepare for years and yet that moment when the bullet explodes takes only a millisecond of our lives. The remainder of the time is spent chasing down the dream; getting to the finish line.

We are all at different places on our journey as writers. I'm trying to get myself into the starting gate so that the gun can be fired. Until all the horses are in place--the gun can't go off. I think I'm at the point where I'm at the starting gate, but I'm stalling. I'm the jockey choking up on the reins, pressing leathery heels into metal stirrups, wrapping my fingers around that extra lock of scratch mane waiting for that first jolt of the race...but I need to just get going already.

Where are you on your writing journey?

Wherever you are, this community of writers would so enjoy reading something you've written. It can really be anything. If you're up to it, you can also link up to help encourage each other to practice the art of writing by committing to (try) write 300 words on four out of the next seven days.

source

when

2012-01-30T02:00:00.000-08:00

The tub floor is icy under my feet as the scalding water hits my back turning my skin from milky white to heated red. I go through the motions of showering as my brain drifts off to the many things I want to do--write a book, get my Ph.D., read more, take my kids on vacation. Without meaning to, I sort the list in my head into two groups. One is the list I might be able to accomplish and the other is the list of things not even worth wishing for. The list will continue long after the water turns cold and my hair is styled for the day, but one question lingers, gnawing at my subconscious; when did I stop believing in my ability?

"I could never do that," are five words akin to cursing. Why can't I? I understand if I don't love doing it, or I don't really want to do it, but if this is something that nags at me day after day then why not? Why can't I do it? A perfect example is how I feel about Mount Everest. I think it would be amazing to climb Mount Everest. Am I ever going to do it? No. And I'll tell you why...because it really is just something I think is cool. It isn't actually a life goal of mine. Writing a book though, is. I'm taking steps to get that done.

So many times I get in my own way. Do you? Do you get in your own way? I need a person standing over my shoulder telling me constantly, "You can do this." "Don't give up," and other encouraging phrases. It would also help if they had a never-ending supply of Swedish Fish and chocolate, but I'll take what I can get.

When I am getting all up in my own brain about not being able to do something I remind myself of what I've already done. I gave birth to four children. I get up every morning (unless they are with their dad) and raise them and so far they've survived with minimal emotional scarring even though they are still trying to convince me that being asked to clean their room is akin to waterboarding. When it snows, I shovel my driveway. I mowed my lawn this summer. I make decisions for four children and myself. I work two jobs as well as care for my kids.

I am capable of doing a lot.
So are you.
Our only constraint/restraint is the same--how we utilize our time.

So....what do you want to do that you just can't?

go gently

2012-01-29T01:00:00.000-08:00

Source: inthefl0wers.tumblr.com via Karen on Pinterest

Until this week I had never heard of Dylan Thomas. I read this book and it referenced his poem. After finishing Matched I picked up Unshaken by Dan Woolley--totally different genre altogether and which poem does he reference in the opening chapters? Oh yes, he did. I thought I'd share it here because it haunts me and intrigues me simultaneously. It also feeds into my somewhat morbid and macabre curiosity and interest surrounding death and dying.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I'm unplugged again today because I'm loving it so. Truthfully, I don't even turn the computer on until Monday afternoon. A holiday it is.

What poem resonates with you?

in which I share a life-altering secret

2012-01-28T01:00:00.000-08:00

In real life I have a bit of a reputation for reading a bit. Ok, truthfully, a lot. I also write this here blog, have four kids, am a single mom, and work from home as a medical transcriptionist. At least once a week I have a fellow mom/close friend/family member look at me with creased brows and distorted face and say some variation of the following:

How do you find time?

You must have more hours in your day than I do.

I don't know how you find time to read/blog/sleep etc.

So today I'm going to share my life-altering, mind-blowing secrets for adding hours of leisurely reading into my day.

PSYCH!

No really.

I have twenty-four hours just like you.

My kids are maniacs and I wonder if they are going to someday run into a wall and instead of bouncing off it, go right through it.

How do I find time to read and blog and keep a house and parent my kids and do the other 4500 things that are expected of me?

I don't.

Yep, it's simple.

I read because it keeps me sane. If I don't read I start to get really cranky and cranky mommies and crazy toddlers don't mesh, so I do what keeps me from getting cranky--I read. Sometimes that might mean that a blog post doesn't get written or perhaps I don't watch the latest episode of The Bachelor (stop gasping, you know you secretly wanted Shawntele to get a rose just to add to the drama too) or rent a movie.

Life is about choices. I only have so much "free" time in the day and I have to use my discretion to decide which activity will best suit me. Most of the time it's reading. Sometimes it's writing. It's rarely watching TV, but sometimes it is.

A few weeks ago I read a blog post by Jon Acuff about disappointing the right people and I took it to heart. After God, my kids are the most important people in the world. I don't want to disappoint them or hurt them in any way, so I'm learning to say "no". That two letter word is one of the most powerful you will ever say. Unless of course you are saying it to your two year old who is smearing sour cream all over the wall. In that case she will just turn and chortle at you as she adds to her masterpiece. (True story)

Learning to say "no" and being willing to disappoint those outside of my nuclear family has given me the freedom to enjoy my true loves and hobbies, such as reading. I will also add that I dovetail reading while walking on the treadmill. It can be somewhat treacherous, but hey, I like to walk on the wild side.

What hobby can you not live without?

How do you find time to get it all done?

and most importantly,

did you watch this week's episode of the bachelor yet?

Just kidding.

No, really.

clock source: etsy.com via Camille on Pinterest

tender pain

2012-01-27T06:19:00.000-08:00

Being tender is not something I'm good at. I'm more of the bull in the china shop kind of individual.

It's easy for our hearts to turn hard when hurts come. They swipe at our hearts and separate flesh and at that point the decision is for us and us alone--do we let the flesh turn hard and callous against further hurts or do we let the flesh bleed, lean into the pain, and let it be stitched back up again by our Saviour?

We only get one or the other. We can't have both. We can't harden our heart to our pain and yet ask him to heal us simultaneously. Have you ever tried to poke a needle through steel? It's close to impossible, but stick a needle through butter? Much more simple. Though it still hurts like the dickens, healing when the heart is tender is many times less painful that when the heart is steeled against the healer's hands.

I don't want my heart to be steeled. I want it to be tender, but it seems so much easier to close myself off, turn on my protective instincts and vow "I'll never be hurt like that again," contrariwise, though, I will never be able to love like that again.

My pastor repeatedly tells me not to run from the pain, to instead press into it and take it to God. I'm trying to do that and in doing so, I'm slowly becoming tender.

an unlikely feast

2012-01-25T05:14:00.000-08:00

The dawn opens with a slim rim of brightness ebbing its way across the distant line of the horizon. Blue and pink and searing orange the sky begins to streak with the colors of day. It is like any other morning, and yet it is distinct in that it is the only sunrise assigned to today. Tomorrow's will be similar, yet in its own way, different. I'm excited as I continue to bounce up the steps to meet the many faces that need me. The aftereffects of retiring too late and rousing too early linger in my step, but I shake them off knowing that today is a feast day. The children are already awake and I run them through the morning routine of showers, breakfasts, multiple diaper changes, and getting dressed. I'm sure we lose at least three socks along the way and misplace our shoes at least once. I'm still looking for a matching sock for myself.

The monumental task of gathering four children, all their various accoutrements all while soothing complaints of "Mom!!! My shoes aren't buckled right!" and "My sock is on the wrong foot!" (who knew there was a right and wrong foot for socks) looms ahead of me. Most days it seems insurmountable, but we bulldoze the task one child, one bag, one step at a time.

As we buckle in I'm thankful that they are in their seats and won't be moving for the ten minute ride to the feast. We arrive and do the loading in reverse to get all the kids dropped off and instructions given. The anticipation is rising in my chest and I walk down the hall to the feasting room. My smile widens as I approach the door and peer in. The rest of the family is gathered around the table, ready to dig in. I'm welcomed with open arms and shouts of "Hey, Kristina" and "Yay! You made it!" just as every other person has been welcomed.

The non-descript table is actually just two laminated pieces of MDF shoved together with metal chairs surrounding, but for the feast before us, it might as well be a mahogany banquet table laden with the finest china. Instead of dishes, the Word in varying tones and shades of leather, and board, and cellulose lie bound on the surface waiting to be ingested, read, chewed, mulled over and lastly digested.

I look at my family. The women surrounding the table don't share my eyes or my hair, or any of my DNA to be completely honest, but we share a Savior. The One who died for each of us and has welcomed each of us into his family. These are my adopted sisters. Some of them I have known for more than twenty years now {Rachel P., can you believe that number? We are old, sista--well, only as old as we act, or feel ;-)}. Others I have only known for a few years, but these are the women who know me. They know my failures as a mom and as a woman and they accept me anyways. This group of women handles the hard times, the sad times, the times that we ask with arms outstretched and tears of "WHY!?!" We handle it together and every other week we sit down together and feast while we tell stories about our Dad--how He showed up last week, what He taught us yesterday, and how we can't wait to see Him again.

Soli Deo Gloria

How I Write {commit2write link up week 3}

2012-01-23T18:39:00.000-08:00

This is how I envision myself writing--peaceful setting, my brain spewing out ideas to be recorded by my lightning fast writing, leaving no thought unrecorded.

source

Okay, maybe I have an iPad in my hand instead of a pen, but the tree and waterfall are a predominant feature. More often than not, though, I end up writing around this

and four children calling my name.

It is inevitable that as soon as I sit down to write someone will need

a drink

a snack

or will make a mess.

The clutter is a whole other topic.

It is as if my computer came with a magical magnet that pulls any and all miscellany to itself.

Oh, what's that? Yours has the magic magnet too?

(Phew, it's not just me.)

It's hard for me to concentrate on what I want to write when this month's bills

are staring up at me and numerous food items beg to be eaten

(oh, yes, those lemon Larabars speak to me)

How about you?

What gets in the way of your writing?

(my get in the way in a good way)

What's one thing you can do this week to minimize that road block?

or writer's block?

(i'm cleaning up the clutter and I'll try to post pictures)

So here goes

Commit2Write is a weekly link up that challenges writers to sit down and do the work of writing by writing 300 words for 4 out of the next 7 days; and even that's just a goal to shoot for. Maybe your kids got sick or you got an extra load of work and you couldn't do it. No worries, link up and try again this week.

If you're writing it, we want to read it.

All I ask is that you read and comment on one of the posts in the link-up, please. We all need/want/love a little bit of encouragement.

rush

2012-01-23T01:00:00.000-08:00

I'm late again. Harried is a kind term for how I look as I push the squeaky-wheeled cart that has a mind of its own into the grocery store. I purposefully go down my list, veggies, fruits, bread, meat, dairy. My list is long and yet it could be longer. I turn the corner and there she stands; a young woman about my age. She and I are in the same group at our pre-k moms group, but I look at my watch and I'm five minutes late and by the time we get out of the store it's sure to have increased to ten. I go down a different aisle.

Sound familiar? The above story is a perfect example of my life when I haven't allowed myself time to not rush. I am an extremely productive person, I'd like to think. I enjoy accomplishing tasks and fitting as much as possible into one day. Just this morning by ten AM I had shoveled the driveway, made breakfast, made granola, written a few blog posts, emailed a few other people and was well on my way to making more scrumptious goodies. To not be functioning in a pell-mell all or nothing speed feels foreign to me, and yet I hear God whispering to me to slow down.

Is it because a busy life is a bad one? No. Could it be that I am not to be productive? No, I don't think that is it either. More so, when we are rushing, we lose our ability to obey God. If I can give myself a ten minute leeway, I could have spoken to that woman in the store and not thought anything about it. Instead, I'm running so late that I can't even say hi.

When my schedule is so chock-full that it keeps me from being able to be directed by God, then something has to change. It is imperative.

How do you feel about busy schedules

and rushing around?

If there was one thing you could

change about your schedule,

what would it be?

week in review

2012-01-21T19:08:00.000-08:00

1. We have a budding artist in our house. Her favorite medium is whatever she can get her hands on and her most common canvas is my walls, though yesterday she deviated and took acrylic paint to my heaters and floors. Lovely, I know. Here she is displaying her newest masterpiece.

2. As I'm sure you've figured out, we go through a lot of these in our house.and now they come in a nifty re-sealable variety pack. Oh my happiness!

3. This week I'm inviting you over

blog-syle to see my house.

Well, the parts that I shot when it was semi-clean

last week.

Since then it has returned to chaos :-)

Want a sneak preview?

I thought so.

i *heart* my breakfast nook

4. I'm in love with this recipe.

I've made it three times this week

and will probably make it again today,

Except I made cupcakes.

source

5. Someone has a birthday coming up.

I need to start a Pinterest album to decide what

to do for her party.

6. A wonderful friend is doing her one-year photos.

I really like her logo, if I do say so myself.

(It's a good thing too, because I designed it.)

She did Bella's newborn pictures as well.

(if you are in the Central NY area, just contact me and I

can put you in touch with her)

7. I'm reading this

and wishing away the snow

so I can buy/wear TOMS.

8. I'm using the McGuffey's readers

to tutor my daughter in reading.

She loves to read and these just bolster her

vocabulary.

I swear, if she reads the word but as in the conjunction,

one more time and goes,

"Ha! I read butt" I just might stroke out.

9. I'm so thankful for my vacuum cleaner.

It broke this week because it got clogged

with refuse,

from my floor.

Yuck.

10. I'm unplugged again today.

Yep, completely unplugged.

I tried it last Sunday and loved it.

Have you ever gone unplugged?

*Some of the above links are affiliate links.

to live - from the mind of a word nerd

2012-01-21T04:58:00.000-08:00

The word "vivid" has its root in the latin word meaning 'to live'. If you ever took Spanish, the spanish verb 'to live' is vivir. See the pattern?

Vivid is directly related to how we live. Even in this linguistic connection, I believe it begs us to not only live, but to live brightly and wholeheartedly.

If we jump, let's leap!

If we grieve, let us grieve deeply so we can better understand the soaring heights of celebration that is sure to come.

If we are going to do something, let's do it to the absolute, extreme best of our ability. None of this halfway junk that we give.

When you breathe, breathe deeply.

When you comfort others, enter into their pain.

And when you love--
love with your everything.

Experience life.

Vivir. to live.

Visionary Parenting: Chapter 2 - Four Times

2012-01-19T01:00:00.000-08:00

"It (the family) is the primary environment where faith and character are formed and shaped. God made your family so that you would help each other to love Him more."

- Visionary Parenting, Dr. Rob Rienow, p. 9

This chapter was super-challenging. In it, Dr. Rienow talks about the four times during the day referenced in Deuteronomy 6:5-9--family worship, transition times, when we wake up, and before we go to bed. He also gives examples of how we can utilize those specific times to teach our children about God. He also talks about how the primary mode of evangelism and disciple ship is from parent to child, so that is where Satan attacks. Whether it be through our busy schedules or my impatience or my desire to just get them to bed, I am doing all of us a disservice by not slowing down to better speak to them about Christ.

So what do I do now?

Sure, I have things to do at night. After bedtime is the only time I have to myself and honestly, to say I covet that time is an understatement. (Note to self: that might be why my time to myself has been slowly dwindling--perhaps I am placing too high a priority on it...hmm). It is also the time in which I do my medical transcription. I am a master at rushing through bedtimes.

Then I think about the times that we really do connect well. At bedtime it just so happens that I connect really well with all of my kids because I put hem down in a certain order. The baby goes down first and then while I sing to Viviana the older two read in their beds or in the case of my son, plays his Leapster. After that I move on to Roman, read a story with him, say our "thankfuls", and pray. Lastly, there's Zahara who gets the same treatment as her brother. The older two are quite chatty at bedtime. Part of that is trying to put off bedtime, I'm sure, but the other part is that they actually have my full attention--something hey crave.

This week I am going to continue to focus on not rushing through the bedtime routine just to get them in bed.

What could you do this week to better utilize

one of the four times (worship, transition times,

first thing in the morning, or bedtime)

to chat with your children about God?

I Feel Sorry for You

2012-01-17T20:11:00.000-08:00

Source: waterstonejewelry.blogspot.com via Nancy on Pinterest

I push the cart through the layers of slush and remind four tiny feet to stay close to me. We weave through the aisles grabbing markers and a new sippy cups. Requests to 'see the fishies' are answered with promises of 'if you are obedient'. Halfway through the aisle with cleaning products surrounding me I hear the fateful admission, "Mom, I need to go to the bathroom."

Inwardly I groan. I would die a happy person if I never had to take another potty break in a Wal-mart bathroom. I quickly grab whatever bathroom cleaner I can quickly chuck into my cart and make a bee-line for the bathroom because the only thing worse than a wal-mart potty break is a department store accident and I don't think my psyche could handle the latter.

To protests of, "But mom, it's the girls' room" we wind our way into the ladies' rooms and I giggle as I remind the four year-old to wipe up his mess and the six year-old to flush. I'm standing, mucky boots on the grungy tile guarding our cart and the other two children perched inside it thankful that we made it to the bathroom on time. As my mind begins to tick off the remaining items on my list a woman comes out of the stall, washes her hands and turns to me. I smile, but it only takes a moment for me to recognize that her question will be the one that I hear at least once every time I venture into public,

"Are they all yours?" she inquires in the kind of voice I would scold my children for using.

My usual sarcasm and wit will be lost on this woman so I answer truthfully. "Yes, they are." I say proudly. Her answer is one that has yet to grace my ears,

"I feel sorry for you. I had four and it was horrible."

My jaw drops open and I am silenced. I immediately look to my children hoping that they did not hear this woman's comment. Thankfully foamy soap in a germ-infested bathroom is a great distraction and they both continue to play, indifferent to this woman's words and I watch her back as she ambles out of the bathroom.

No ma'am, I feel sorry for you. There are days when my kids drive me nuts. Just tonight I had to put a child to bed half an hour early because they just couldn't listen. I spent the next half our quieting him down and {trying to} calmly put him back to bed without losing my cool. My oldest daughter demands my full attention. When we read together at night she can't just be near me--she has to be ON me, literally. My third-born is one of "those" children--you know, the one you see coming and you inwardly groan; but one day that determination and that confidence is going to do some great things. My youngest is sweeter than honey and more smiley than a sticker from a Wal-mart greeter. Sure, I don't sleep a lot. I can't remember the last time I took a shower without a little person sticking their head in on me or asking me for something that "couldn't" wait the 90 seconds until I jumped out of the shower. It is hard to raise children. I won't pretend that it isn't.

But, sorry for me?

I don't think so. I have been given four...count them four eternal souls. They are on loan to me for a short, short time to steward, and guide, and teach and snuggle. Roll that one around in your head for a moment, an eternal soul to nurture, kiss, snuggle, love, and wrestle with....

I don't think it gets much better than this.

Today I'm linking up with these lovely ladies
Joy from Joy in this Journey

commit2write week 2 (link-up)

2012-01-17T01:30:00.000-08:00

"This is how nearly everything important I’ve ever done has happened — not as a result of a plan, but over time, thanks to new habits."

-Jeff Goins

I read that quote earlier this week and thought it fit the goal of Commit2write so well. This challenge isn't a die-hard plan. It is just a group of writers showing up to encourage one another to show up. To sit down and write. The numbers are just something to shoot for.

This week I literally wrote my blog posts.

Nothing else.

Nothing uber creative or mindblowing; just my blog posts.

Life exploded and that's okay.

Feel free to link up any post that you've written. Even if you weren't an "official" commit2write member, if you wrote something just link it up! The point is to encourage each other to write more--not membership.

So this week, let's link it up!

Feel free to join the conversation on Twitter. We tweet with the hashtag #commit2write and there's a list of all the commit2write peeps :-)

If you don't want to miss a commit2write post, I'd love for you to get hitherto & henceforth delivered to your inbox for free.

girls harbor; boys hit

2012-01-16T01:30:00.000-08:00

Most would say I am raising my children, but every once in a while I am reminded that they are raising me. Parenting a son is so incongruous with raising daughters; their differences make me laugh, keep me on my toes and simultaneously make me sigh "thank you" at the end of the day when I tire of the mood swings--both theirs and mine.

Girls harbor.

My six year old still re-hashes the day she got stitches. She was all of two and one-half when she and her dad were goofing around. She fell and following in my foot steps needed stitches on her chin. When she's annoyed or angry, or just in need of something to say, she will bring up this incident.

She's got a mind like a steel trap.

She's not going to forget. Ever. It's like living with a talkative elephant. It doesn't matter if it happened four years ago or four minutes ago, she remembers. Unless of course you just asked her to be quiet. That request is forgotten even before it passes through her synapses.

Boys hit.

Boys hit. It's that simple.

Are you in his face? He's going to hit you.

Did you take his snack? He's going to hit you.

You are hovering? Smack.

You called him a name? Thwap.

You were just sitting there doing absolutely nothing? (code for sticking your tongue out) Yep, that earns a smack.

You are breathing. Smack.

Savvy?

Boys hit.

Boys hit and that's the end.

Until it's time to hit a girl...again.

Girls will still be penalizing their brothers for hitting them when they were five, twenty years later.

Just for the record, my admonitions of "We don't hit girls!" have been met by "She's not a girl, she's my sister." Yes, I have some training to do.

unplugged

2012-01-14T18:57:00.000-08:00

I'm on the computer quite a bit. (all of my in-real-life friends, stop snorting...you'll hurt yourselves)Not only do I blog and write, but I also do medical transcription to pay the bills. Needless to say, there is a lot of screen time in my life.

When did Sunday become the day to do everything else that you didn't finish during the week? I'm not judging anyone here, I am just saying that for me and my family, Sunday is like a catch-all day. Except for the going-to-church part of Sunday it really looks like every other day of the week.

A few years back I started something new. I would try my hardest to get the house tidied (not eat-off-the-floors tidy; I have four kids, let's be realistic) and the laundry for Monday done. This way it didn't matter if we wanted to go somewhere after church on Sunday we could. We weren't bound by a dirty house or needing to get laundry done for the following day. As things tend to do, they changed and I've recently found myself scrambling. I no longer have a day of rest and relaxation with my children to rejuvenate for the week ahead, but instead I've found just another stressful day.

When you pile stress upon stress no one is happy and we all know the quote about mamas and being happy. I thought so.

So this week, I'm trying something new and I'm not sure how it is going to work out. To be honest, I'm a little bit scared. I'm unplugging on Sunday; today, when you read this. Yep. No computer, no facebook, no Twitter, nada. My phone will still be on because, well because I'm making the rules and if someone were to get mortally wounded I would want 911 to be readily available.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this...I'll check out the comments and get back to you on Monday ;-)

Have you ever unplugged?

When/how did you do it?

Did you enjoy it?

Is it a regular thing for you?

not said.

2012-01-14T01:00:00.000-08:00

Thwap.

The sound of flesh connecting with flesh is unmistakable and I put down the dishes and walk into the living room the squalls already piercing my eardrums and my heart rate rising. I take a deep breath and walk over to the tiny offenders.

"What did you do, buddy?" I ask. He looks up at me through long lashes still trying to assume a posture of shame while looking into my eyes.
"I hit my sister." he confesses. I kneel down so his eyes can lock into mine and remind him of his father's admonition.
"What did daddy tell you about your sisters? What are you supposed to do?"
"Respect and protect, mommy."
"That's right. Was that respecting and protecting your sister?"
"No."

Time-out which for this kid is the worst possible thing on the face of the earth.

"Why were you in time-out?" I ask.
"I hit my sister."
"What do you need to do, boss?"
"Say sorry."
"That's right, Ro. Who do you say sorry to?"
"Mommy, Hara, and God." he rattles off.
"That's right."

He heads to the living room where his sister is still nursing her "injury". They make up and within five minutes they are playing happily and by the time ten more tick by they are discussion whether or not to play duck duck goose. They've had their relationship restored. Fully and while my daughter's mind is like a steel trap, they don't bring up what just happened. Instead they apologize, forgive, and move on.

But what about when the person doesn't say, "I forgive you"?
What if they won't forgive.

Source: weheartit.com via Lauri on Pinterest

Recently we were out and about and one of my kids got into an argument with another child. It wasn't anything big, but the whole recognition of wrongdoing and asking for forgiveness was done without my intervention. It wasn't until my son came to me and tearfully told me that his friend wouldn't say, "I forgive you," that I even knew there had been an incident.

Not many families I know practice the children verbally saying, "I forgive you" after someone has apologized to them. It isn't better or worse than any other method out there, it is just the way I've taught my children to work through a disagreement. But what happens now? The other child wouldn't say I forgive you, which is what my children have come to know as necessary, and they were somewhat devastated.

Do I ask the child to say "I forgive you" just to appease my child?

Truth is, I have in the past and most often they do. (If this is a child of one of my friends who uses the same terminology I do and raises their children in a similar manner then I definitely do, but in this situation it was a child who is completely unchurched.) That being said, on this occasion a different thought crossed my mind. People aren't always willing to forgive.

There are times and situations in which you ask for forgiveness and the person will not grant it. This was a perfect opportunity to teach my kids about allowing someone else to have their say--and still maintaining ours. You see, no one can take away your ability to ask for forgiveness. By withholding forgiveness, they are not hurting you, they are only hurting themselves. Now I know this child wasn't withholding forgiveness. I just wanted to use the situation to teach my children that people won't always grant forgiveness and that instead of letting it devastate us, we need to pray for them and move on with life.

Have you ever experienced your children

not being forgiven by a friend or

being unwilling to forgive?

How did you handle it?

Visionary Parenting {Chap 1}

2012-01-12T01:30:00.001-08:00

I spent more time studying for my SAT's than I did preparing to have children. Sure, I attended the birthing class, the hospital tour, etc., and I learned how to physically take care of my baby after it was born, but I did absolutely nothing to prepare for raising my daughter. Visionary Parenting is all about grabbing hold of God's vision for your family and then employing it. Here at Hitherto & Henceforth we're all about starting TODAY. My word for 2012 is Intentional and this book is helping me be more intentional about my parenting. Won't you join me?

I recently wrote a family mission statement and that helped me figure out a baseline to which I could refer. It kind of gave me a keel so I could stay grounded when raising my children, but in the first chapter of this book, Dr. Rienow made a statement that really hit me,

"If we are not intentional with our parenting, we run the risk of ending up with a family filled with achievement, recreation, and niceness. God has a far grander plan for us and for our children. He created our families for a purpose. He gave us children for a reason."

p. 2

I'm really challenged in a few different ways.

Firstly, God has specifically given ME these children for a reason and conversely, these children have been given me as a mom for a specific reason. I have a huge influence over their hearts. You could come to my house and make a remark to my daughter about her dress and she will shrug it off, but the same remark out of my mouth could mean a total meltdown and even a possible scar all because I, as her mother, hold a stronger sway over her heart.

I hold a strong sway over my childrens' hearts.

Just those nine words make me want to cry and smile at the same time. I want to cry because I know of the many times I have misused my sway and have said things that I have later regretted. I'm smiling because I know that these little ones are so completely precious to me and I love them so much. Thankfully, today is a new day and I can say, "I'm sorry" to both them and God and start fresh.

I've heard people say "I'm not an evangelist" or "I don't feel led to just tell people about Jesus" and I get those points of view, but when it comes to your kids, it's a different ballgame. My children were given to me, so that I would tell them about Jesus. Objective number one in mission raise my kids is not to raise successful adults. That is a great goal and it is definitely on the list, but my number one aim should be to introduce them to Christ. If that's not on the list then isn't the rest of the list moot?

What are your views on why God gives us children?

Have you ever said something that has scarred your child's heart?

What is your number one goal in raising your children?

Next Thursday we'll be chatting about Chapter 2.

If you want to make sure you don't miss the post

you can have it delivered to your inbox for free

by clicking here.

dress

2012-01-11T01:00:00.000-08:00

Last year I started participating in "What I Wore Wednesdays". Then I fell off the bandwagon because I forgot to take pictures aka I was becoming one with my yoga pants. I'm trying to be better about putting together outfits and trading in the yoga pants...I've also had some fun dressing Miss Ana who LOVES to wear dresses.

Cowl - made by moi

Dress, sweater, jeans - thrifted

Boots - Kohl's {my Christmas gift}

Baby Legs

Shirt, skirt - Old Navy

Have you found any recent thrifty bargains?

10 reasons to #commit2write {week 1 link up}

2012-01-09T19:32:00.000-08:00

1200 words.

That's how many words we wrote last week.

Can you believe it?

Did you do it?

Today we're linking up a post.

Any post

written in the past week.

It can be contemplative,

fun, quirky, poetry, prose,

conversation....

whatever!!!

As long as you wrote it...

Link up and spread the love!

And now, if you're not sure you want to

#commit2write this week,

here, for your reading pleasure are my top ten reasons to

#commit2write.

Commit2Write is the group for you if you

1. Have an ongoing conversation in your head with characters at any given time

2. Need some encouragement to sit down and WRITE

3. Have always wanted to write a book, but claim you don't have the time

4. Need a nifty new place to link up your blog every week

5. Know you have a message to deliver/story to tell/important things to say

6. Like to write and want to meet other people who like to write as well

7. Have post ideas written on napkin scraps, fast food bags, and on your

arms or the palms of your hands

8. Just love to write

9. Want to improve your grammar, style, plot/character development

10. Need a friend who understands that yes, your characters are real, and yes,

they do talk to you....or is that just me?

If you are on Twitter we will be tweeting with the hashtag #commit2write. I've made a list of all the commit2write members on Twitter and you can find it here.

Want to join? Just link up and we'll start encouraging you! This week I'm going to send out daily tweets to encourage you to write. Have an awesome week!

no naps and a merit badge

2012-01-09T01:30:00.000-08:00

source

That beauty is a merit badge from Mama Merit Badges. Oh, yes, there are merit badges for Mamas. Tantrums aren't the kind of thing that I put up with really well. Actually, I really don't like tantrums, but recently my two year old has decided to wreak non-sleeping havoc on the household, so in turn I'm having issues with tantrums. Hers, not mine.

I was lucky enough to have some amazing sleepers as far as children are concerned. They sleep about twelve hours a night and once they are weaned they only wake up once, if that. I know, slap me through the computer screen. They also take amazing naps and about twice a week I can still get all four of them down for a nap at the same time. Ok, I'm turning my other cheek now.

But there comes a day; you know the one. That day when your two year old digs in her heels, puffs out her chest and says through eyes struggling to stay open "No nap!" Sure, the child can't say her name or her age or heaven forbid she enunciate the word "juice", but by golly she can string no and nap together to form a sentence exuding her will.

We are in the middle right now; that very annoying time at which you can't figure out if your child still needs a nap so they won't be a crank the last two hours of the day or if they don't need the nap--but your house may look like Armageddon between five pm and bedtime.

Decisions, decisions.

The past two days I've chosen to let Ana stay awake. She's been superlatively naughty and aggressive and I'm not liking it, but I will be honest-I'm a little bit proud of myself. Since I know she's tired, I know why she is acting the way she is and therefore I am able to not take it personally. We just breathe deeply and NEVER LET HER OUT OF OUR SIGHT.

Have you earned your

merit badge for

tantrums yet?

How did you wean your children off their naps?

communion - smile or scowl

2012-01-08T02:00:00.000-08:00

"Mommy, what are those plates up there?" she asked too loudly to be a whisper, but not so loud as to be heard ALL over the building.

"That's for communion, Z." I answer, knowing full well that a conversation is about to start that will not be short. Part of me wants to quiet her answers, to tell her to sit silently while we, and by we, I mean the adults partake of the sacrament.

How backwards is that? Did you just think that? Who do I think I am. I'm sitting in church, with my just-turned-five-year-old who just two years ago bowed her head, told God she was a sinner, does naughty things, and wanted to have Jesus pay for her sin by dying on the cross and then wants him to live in her heart. Who am I to keep her from communion? I'm not. He is the same Jesus who said, "Let the little children come unto me..." Woe to me that I be the one to stop her from obeying the command to "...do this...in remembrance of me." (1 Corinthians 11:25)

It's how we remember what Jesus did when he died on the cross. Do you remember what he did on the cross, Z?

"Yes, mommy. He died for my sins so I can go to heaven."

"That's right, Z. The bread helps us remember his body and the grape juice helps us remember his blood."

"It's not real blood, right, mommy?"

"No, it's just juice. It's to symbolize which means stand for his blood. It's to help us remember."

Her understanding of communion is one that is sufficient and as the silver-toned plates pass I let her take the bread, hands poised over the communion cups. I took her cup and held it for her, her swinging legs jostling her body too much for me to trust her grip.

Heads bowed, eyes closed, hearts open, I thank God for letting me see my daughter as he sees her, as his daughter, as my sister.

Source: Uploaded by user via Pamela on Pinterest

Communion holds a good amount of serious moments such as the one I relayed above, but I also think that communion is celebratory. Yes, we are remembering a gruesome death, but even more importantly we are celebrating the end of death and the One who came to free us from sin. I also like to think that God has a sense of humor and I'm sure he laughed at Zahara and I this morning in church as we took communion.

Last year, when Zahara took communion for the first time I had the presence of mind to hold onto her communion cup for her. I believe it was a mix of a) I don't trust her not to spill it and b) her brother was sitting next to her and I didn't trust HIM not to um, "help" her spill it. Let's just say that this morning I decided to be a bit more trustworthy of my now, just-turned-six-year-old {also, her brother was at home, sick} and let her hold the cup. And wouldn't you know, she spilled it. All over the two of us. I had no clue that less than an ounce of grape juice could make such a mess.

I had a choice. I could either scold {which I hate to admit is my first tendency} or giggle which in turn made me almost snort trying to suppress more giggles which in turn made Zahara start to giggle. I giggled and I'm kind of thinking that God did too.

On a completely random note, did you know they make disposable prepackaged communion cups with the wafer on the top? Well, now you do!

Source: booksofthebible.com via Jessika on Pinterest

Do you have any giggle-worthy communion stories?

What age were you (or your kids) when you first took communion?

(I was seven-ish, I think.)

SHUT

2012-01-07T01:30:00.000-08:00

Thump-thump.Her size six toddler feet hit the floor and my eyes fly open. She struggles to open her door and that gives me the time to roll out of bed, feel for my glasses on the pile of books where they've sat since last night, and stumble blearily down the hall. It's 6-ish AM and my day just started.

If you're like me your to-do list is jam-packed from the moment you wake up. Mine is a conglomeration of personal goals for myself, kid-related things, business calls to make, and household duties to perform. The way my house is set up I spend most of my day in the kitchen doing various tasks and let's face it, with four kids, most of my day revolves around cleaning up what we just ate or preparing for what we are going to eat. In between that I break up spats, spend cuddle time, play with the kids, and do all that other stuff.

The great thing about my kitchen is that it has a work station, aka the dumping spot for all things. This work station is rarely organized, but there my computer sits and it is there that I do most of my blogging/emailing/etc. If I've talked to you on twitter you can be 99% sure I'm standing in my kitchen when we're talking. There is a problem, though. Since my computer is so accessible, it is very easy to stay attached to it or even keep it constantly open.

I'm working on giving my kids my undivided attention. So much of the time I am rockin' my multi-tasking skills and doing three or four things at once. If I'm not DOING three or four things, I am thinking of at least six. You know this is true of most moms. I'm finding that my day and my children's day drastically improves when I imply the undivided time principle. Basically, I have set times in my day when the computer stays SHUT. Completely shut. If I think of something I need to do online, I write it down. Normally I proceed to lose the paper on which I wrote it down, but that's beside the point.

My undivided times are prior to 8:30 AM {from the time we wake up until then}, lunchtime (about an hour), and from when I start dinner to when the kids are 100% ready for bed. That doesn't mean that the remainder of my day is spent on the internet, it just means that during those times I won't be on the internet.

I also can't trust myself to just "notndivided check it"; that's why I close the laptop completely. Have I perfected this? Nope. Are their days when I don't adhere to it? Absolutely, but those days are far worse than the days that I do follow my little system.

Are there any times of the day when your computer is SHUT?

whisper that roars

2012-01-06T06:37:00.000-08:00

When you think of a roar, ear-splitting, mind boggling noise comes to mind. I'm sent back to the zoo where I stand face pressed against glass, nose smushed watching this terrible and majestic animal break the silence with his deafening roar. He cries power and dominion and yet beauty is still found in his golden mane.

A quiet sound can be heard as a roar. A lie whispered at a precise moment can reverberate in one's head spinning round and round until lie is perceived as truth even though it is still a lie. The deceiver's words are like that. Whispered at the moment when you are at your weakest, him knowing that you are most vulnerable, most susceptible to his deceit then. His voice cries, "You aren't enough. You'll never be good enough."

But there is still Another Voice. The Voice whose baritone and timbre sends the Deceiver running, tail between his legs. It's the Voice that calmed oceans and created Heavens; from the same mouth that came stars and living breath. It's a voice that speaks out, "She is mine and she is enough."

My heart quakes in response.

Visionary Parenting {a book study}

2012-01-05T01:00:00.000-08:00

My pastor recently said to me,

"...to whom much is given, much is required."
Now obviously he was quoting the parable in Luke 12, but what he said made my gears whir just a little bit more.

I have been given so much.

and much is expected of me by way of parenting them.

In an attempt to better my parenting I'm doing two things. Firstly, I'm joining the Gentleness Challenge that Courtney is hosting. I need to keep the frustration to a minimum and be more gentle towards my children. I want them to see a mom who loves God so much and wants their best. While they push my buttons often, they don't deserve to have my frustration taken out on them. In her post, Courtney quotes Matthew Henry,

“What is spoken wisely should be spoken calmly, and then it will be calmly considered. But passion will lessen the force even of reason, instead of adding any force to it.”

and that quote really hit home with me. I'm so excited about the accountability that this challenge will offer.

Secondly, I'm hosting a somewhat impromptu book study here at Hitherto of the book Visionary Parenting: capture a God-sized vision for your family by Dr. Rob Rienow. Every Monday, I will post a summary of the chapter, what I learned from it, and how I'm applying it. There are only ten chapters so it won't take too long at all.

Parenting is such a huge responsibility and blessing. Just last week my firstborn turned six. SIX! To echo mothers everywhere, "Where does the time go?" I have only one shot at this parenting thing and I want to get it as right as I possibly can. How about you?

Are you going to sign up for the Gentleness Challenge?

Does your family have an over-arching vision or purpose?

If so, what is it?

If not, have you ever thought about it?

If you want to keep tabs on what's happening

here at hitherto, please subscribe for free!

family mission statement

2012-01-04T02:00:00.000-08:00

What does your family stand for? Do you like to have others into your home and practice hospitality? Perhaps you enjoy living outwardly; focusing on others and how you can best serve them. Are there certain things that absolutely do not fly in your household or maybe there is a verse or a saying that encompasses your purpose as a family.

Recently I took a class at my church called Family Foundations. The goal was to create a mission statement to both anchor and launch your family. I've been wanting to take this class for quite some time and finally the fates {my schedule} aligned and I was able to take it and let me tell you, the experience has been invaluable. As a single parent, I want to be the best parent I can be TODAY and consistency is one of the best ways to anchor and guide one's children; it is also the area in which I struggle the most. A true saying of myself is, "I am consistently inconsistent."

There were many steps in creating the statement from involving our kids and asking them what they thought our family stood for to looking at how our parents raised us and determining those things we wanted to repeat and those things we'd rather not.

My kids are 6, 4, 2, and 11 months, but I did ask the two older ones what they thought we should include. Roman gave me the token boy "nod and grunt" while Zahara extrapolated, "We, the P_____ family, with our noble hearts do solemnly swear to love God and ......." Yes, I kid you not. The kid is dramatic.

I started a Pinterest board for family mission statements and there are a lot of good ideas on there. Originally I wanted to do something with my last name, but that entailed too many points. Another couple from the previous class who have three boys quite close in age, much like I have with my kiddos talked about how they needed a mission statement that they could implement right then and there and that resonated with me.

My entire family, myself included, are going through some major life changes and I needed something that I could point the kids to NOW. I kept the original with my name, but settled on the following for our mission statement:

We the P____ family will practice

gratitude by taking care of our belongings and saying thank you.

Knowing that we have been blessed by God for a reason we will

reach out by praying for those who do not have a Bible to read

or food to eat.

We will encourage one another by cheering each other on

and speaking kindly.

We will apologize, forgive, and do not use potty talk.

Have you made a family mission statement?

How do you use it?

What happens....

2012-01-03T08:57:00.000-08:00

This is what happens when mommy turns her head.

And yes, that is my son's foot because he is sitting on top of the

treadmill.

Why was my head turned you ask?

I was cleaning up this mess

Don't worry, the eating like a dog was quickly stopped....

just after I took the photo.

Or maybe I was changing a baby's diaper,

or cleaning up from breakfast,

or blogging.

I can't remember which.

Commit2Write

2012-01-03T01:30:00.000-08:00

thoughts swirl and voices carry on conversations between the girl with the green eyes and hazelnut hair and the stable boy who mucks out stalls and wears suspenders. Words are whispered, promises breathed and subsequently broken; lives spelled out, letter by letter, pushed to the very precipice of disaster and miraculously saved or sometimes, dashed against the rocks.

We write.
Or at least we'd like to.
But there's this thing about those conversations in my head...they just can't seem to make it onto paper.

At Relevant 2011 I attended a workshop on writing. The speakers {Emily P. Freeman, Sarah Markley, Sara Sophia, Lisa-Jo Baker, and Serena Woods} shared a wealth of information and I so appreciated being able to listen in on their words of wisdom. One thing that resonated with me was the admonition and encouragement from Sarah Markley to write 300 words a day.

300 words.

It sounds like a lot, but really, it isn't. As I mulled it over and over in my head I knew that I would need help. I would need the help of other women like me who feel the overwhelming compulsion to scratch pen to paper {or click nails to plastic keyboard} and sort out their life-blood. So here I am.

I'm not sure what will happen or if this will even go anywhere, but here's my idea.

Let's write.
Let's write 300 words, four (4) days a week.
You don't have to publish them--just write them.
Whether it be in your journal,
your blog,
your napkin at starbucks {though it would have to be quite a large napkin}
just write it down.

Then every Tuesday link up your favorite post from that week
because as we write 300 words 4 days a week
for a grand total of 1200 a week,
our overall writing will improve
and thus, so will our posts.
{if you want to be brave and post one of your 300 worders that would be swell}

So...here goes.
One big leap.
Will you Commit2Write ?

feel free to grab the image above by

right clicking and saving it

It'd be just peachy if you'd link back to

hitherto & henceforth.

Link up below if you want in :-) I can't wait to see what's going to happen!

P.s.- we'll be tweeting with the #commit2write hashtag

my beef

2012-01-02T05:30:00.000-08:00

Source: etsy.com via April on Pinterest

One thing I've found is that since I've become a single parent, the number one thing on everyone else's mind is my love life...or lack thereof. Because it is obviously the most important thing on MY mind. {this is where a sarcasm font would be dandy}

It really irks me, no, bothers me to my core the rising sentiment that I find around singles, especially moms. It seems that as we talk and chatter I hear one main overtone. No one actually says the following words, but the sentiment reverberates and carries the interaction like a palpable undercurrent and believe me, it's easy to be swept in.

I need to find a guy

to be a good mom.

I would be a better mom

if I had a husband.

Do I believe that a child's heart was made for both a mom and a dad? Absolutely. I think that arrangement is best and it is how God intended family to be. That being said, God knows all the details over my situation; singleness and all.

Truth is, I'm the only mom my kids have TODAY. My kids won't wait around to grow, be molded, be shaped, or hugged until I can find "the man" in my life. I'm not against remarriage or the idea of it, but ladies, let's be real here, there's only One man you need to make this parenting thing work as you are and that's God. End of story. If there is a human man that comes into the picture then awesome. If not, that's awesome too.

Today's the day, lady. Today's the day to put on your big girl panties and come to terms with the fact that if a man never walks through your door or you never go to another singles' group and you delete your Christian mingle/eHarmony/Match.com account you will still be the only mother your children have.

Don't let the lie that you can only be a good mom if you have a husband rob your children of the best mom they have today.

What one thing are you doing today

to be your kids' best mom?

I'm counting to five before I react to any situation,

unless they have a sharp object.

In that situation I'll count to five

AFTER I disarm them.

intentional {one word}

2012-01-01T01:00:00.000-08:00

Intentional is to parenting forums

authentic is to blogging communities.

Buzzwords are they both.

For the past year God has been hammering home the idea and the action of being intentional. Intentional is not easy. Intentional is difficult and time-consuming. Intentional means I choose to be pre-emptive instead of reactive and pre-empting what I think will happen means I took the time to think about the outcome PRIOR to my action and that takes time. My time.

In 2012 I'm looking to be intentional in many different parts of my life, but the most important part is my parenting and my relationships with my children. I am far too comfortable to let myself blunder aimlessly in regards to my children because let's face it, I'm tired. This isn't a pity party, but I'm a mom of four kids under the age of six. It's tiring. This blog post has written itself in my head for the past three nights just scratching at my brain to get typed out on this screen, but kids got sick, kids didn't sleep, I fell asleep with said sick children weighing me down like rocks, etc. Life happens and it tires me out, but as my oldest turned six this week, I am reminded that it goes quickly. Six years ago I never pictured what life would be like six years down the road because frankly, I don't think I even imagined that six years would even arrive if that makes sense. Yet here, 2,190-ish days later, I sit. Typing. About being intentional.

God. I want to take more time getting to know God and talking with Him. To help me, I'm reading the Bible in 90 Days again. This year I'm starting in January and am being held accountable by Stephanie. This experience was awesome last year and I can't wait to delve into it again this year. It was interesting how my pastor's sermons "coincidentally" coincided with where I was reading in my 90 Day journey.

My health and wellness. I'm exercising more. I'm going to walk on the treadmill three days a week and also go to bed before 11 pm. Truthfully, I'd like to see more of my treadmill than three days, but I tend to shoot way too high and then get superbly disappointed with myself, so three it is.

Writing. I'm going to write three hundred words a day, four days a week. That's a grand total of 1200 words a week. Feel like joining in or do you need some accountability? Consider joining Commit2Write. It's a link-up filled with women who want to write...or at least I hope it will be.

Parenting. I recently became a single mom. I never, ever, in my wildest dreams thought that the words "single mom" would apply to me and my (ex) husband still be alive. Never, y'all. I spent most of this fall grieving the loss of my marriage and writing a family mission statement that was part of a class I was attending at my church. In the future I will be sharing more about our Family Mission Statement and how it works for us.

"...for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good pleasure."

- Philippians 2:13

What about you?

What's your ONE word for 2012?

Break

2011-12-25T18:13:00.000-08:00

Well, I decided that I'm going to take a wee break for the next seven days and I'll be back on January 1st! I was a bit apprehensive to take a break, but you know...I need one.

I need to cherish my kids and give them my full attention. I need to enjoy my life right now as I contemplate this coming year and most of all I need to focus just a little bit.

See y'all on the flip side!!!

and yet.

2011-12-20T20:31:00.000-08:00

Nitty gritty.
Down and dirty.
That's the life we lead.

It's a blood encrusted and foul plight.
A destitute us longing for the richness of You.

You are the citrine cast of a setting sun;
the deep ochre of a wheat field ripe.
The shades of blue prismed in the sea is held in the same hand
that set the sun to command the tides.

Eagles soar majestic and cannot compare to You.
Were Your finger to touch rock mountains
would crack splitting terra from sky and straight
to molten core, liquid.

Angels heed Your every word and creation worships you
with words unintelligible to our ears and yet,

You came.

You came as pounds and ounces
covered in waxy vernix and squalling as your
grace covenant was sealed through pressure
and blood of birth.
You traded a regal entrance enveloped by velvet and
streamed through the media for a trough with
hay, manure, and swill.

You came.

You came to love and to vindicate; to justify, to resurrect.
to lift, to mend, to teach.

To take notice in a crowd when flesh touched hem
and faith was rewarded with healing.

You came as dust to meet dust;
to not cast the first stone and
instead throw the first lifeline.

You came to hunger, and not give in to temptation;
to show us it could be done,
to understand all of us.

You came to cry and bleed;
to be
scorned.
scourged.
beaten.

You came to carry
my sin
my shame
my mistakes
my lies
my blackness
my anger
my divorce
my sleeping with my boyfriend before he was my husband
my curse words
my unbelief
my anger at my children
my "I wish I could do this over"'s

My debt.
My cross.

You came to bleed
life-giving blood
in front of we who know not what we do
and yet
You forgive us anyway.

You came to crush Satan's head
Just like Genesis said you would;
to take names
and confiscate keys
once and for all
to
beckon back those whom You love.

You came
for
messy,
sinful,
gritty,
me.

and the best part is....
You're coming back.

first Christmas

2011-12-19T01:30:00.000-08:00

Navigating the waters of co-parenting with a spouse that is not present can be overwhelming at times. While my husband and I are still quite amicable, I wanted to implement some traditions this Christmas with the kids that were solely ours. With four little, little ones (almost 6, 4, 2, and 10 months) finding something in which we can all participate can also be a struggle, but I thought about it and just did some simple things with them.

First, we got dinner at our local A&W. They have the old soda fountain, drive-up, park and eat stations and the kids love to order from the car and watch expectantly for the waitress to carry it out. Temperatures have plummeted here, so we brought the food home. Hamburgers, hot dogs, onion rings, fries and a bacon cheeseburger were our fancy schmancy meal and I must say, the absence of complaints was quite enjoyable. Everyone ate all their food!

I had rented the Polar Express from the local library (for free!) and we snuggled down on the living room floor. I used Courtney's ideas from her "Making Your Home a Haven" series from last year and we pulled every, single, blanket and pillow in the house onto my living room floor. Ana was already starting to get sleepy and the rest of them were just having fun goofing around.

About half-way through the movie we stopped to put the littlest one in bed and then made super-fancy hot chocolate which consisted of hot chocolate with marshmallows, whipped cream, and sprinkles. Then we settled in for the remainder of the movie.

We had such an amazing time! I can't wait to do this again next year.

Whether you are single or married,

what traditions do you have with your kids?

Are they ones you have started or were

they passed down through the generations?

*****

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If you liked what you read today, you can have hitherto & henceforth

delivered directly to your email or reader of choice for free

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when you bend the rules

2011-12-18T20:21:00.000-08:00

I have a "no glitter" policy in my house. Better moms encourage their children's creativity by crafting intricate projects with glue and glitter, not caring about the mess, but not I. No, I am not a fan of glitter, yet in light of the holidays I decided to bend my glitter rule and bring the cursed stuff into my house.

I've been dying to make this little jar project that I found, guess where? Yep, Pinterest. Anyhow. I've been wanting to make it for my four year old and finally got to AC Moore to use my 50% off coupon on the glitter.

Source: herewearetogether.com via Meghan on Pinterest

I got home and purposefully put the glitter high enough so my two year old couldn't get it; or so I thought. I think I put away about two items from my grocery bags before I came back out to grab the next bag and voila(!)....

as you can see we will be quite sparkly this Christmas season....

and probably well into July as well.

Do you allow glitter?

Have your kids made any epic messes recently?

prey

2011-12-16T19:02:00.000-08:00

Connection.

I once heard a saying that an isolated woman was a walking target. The longer I do this thing called life I find that that is true. We are most vulnerable when we are alone; when our walk turns into a trudge and we sink into the grey emptiness that exemplifies the ambiguity of alone.

I crave the togetherness that I glean from knowing that I am not alone. That there are other women out there whose children drove them to the edge of their sanity today and yesterday and probably will do the same tomorrow.

I need to know that my kids aren't the only ones repeating possibly embarrassing names of body parts over and over and over (and over) again because they are a new word and aren't new words supposed to be repeated a minimum of six hundred twenty eight times?

I need to know that my tears are shared and my prayers are prayed not only by me, but lifted up by my friends so that when I tell them what I am going through they can whisper their sorrows right back at me.

When animals are being hunted what is the first thing a predator does? He doesn't go for the pack, no, he goes for the lone animal that is separated from the pack--the disconnected one. He crouches and waits, saliva dripping from his fangs as he perches, like a wound spring, waiting, just waiting until his prey is far enough from the group that they won't be able to save it. He watches, lying in wait, muscles tensed, ready for action....but what if the prey never leaves the group. Well then, he's out of luck.

Don't leave the group. I know you may want to be alone. You may feel alone, but ALONE is a lie. Today, find one person; just one and reach out. Tell them what you are struggling with, ask them to pray. Don't become the prey.

first Christmas

2011-12-14T19:22:00.000-08:00

In just a few short days I'll be celebrating Christmas around here for the first time as a single mom. In many ways it looks the same as it has in years past; in others it looks entirely different.

This season I'm learning to say "Yes" more and "No" less. No, no, it's not what you think. It's not stemming from guilt. The only guilt around here is that I let MYSELF eat more cookies than I should have. We decorated the tree this evening even though I wasn't really in the mood. Even so, the kids were chomping at the bit to get it decorated and who was I to stand in the way?

Lovely Pandora played Christmas carols in the background and my five year old took it upon herself to "thumbs-up" every song she liked, which has now forever messed up my Pandora preferences and I will be listening to the Chipmunks for the duration of Christmas 2011. Oh well. We only broke one ornament and thankfully it was one that I really don't remember where it came from and it was too generic to be of any real value.

As a child I always lamented that our tree looked so mismatched, but this year I enjoyed carefully unwrapping the ornaments and telling them where they came from. We have ornaments from all over the world on our tree and it was fun to watch the kids oooh and aaaah over them. Later this week I will be posting some of my favorite ornaments and their stories. For now I will leave you with a picture and a question.

Question: Do you have a themed Christmas tree or is it more of an amalgamation of various kiddie craft projects like ours?

perfectionism

2011-12-13T14:24:00.000-08:00

I would have never pegged myself as a perfectionist.

I'm more of a "just get the job done" kind of girl. When I was in college studying to be and interpreter, the same scene played night after night in the ASL lab; girls would walk in, hauling their overloaded backpacks laden with books, videos, and notes. After about an hour of writing on paper, studying other videos, and practicing to themselves and possibly another tutor they would take their place in front of the video camera. Holding their head high they would press "play" and begin to sign, relaying a story, anecdote, or assignment. After a bit, one would hear a labored sigh from one or more of the carrels as a girl would mess up, misproduce a sign, hands not quite forming the correct shape. The tape would stop, be rewound, and the taping would begin again. I watched girls drive themselves to tears in a quest to perfectly sign whatever assignment it was they were working on. Four hours would pass and out of fifteen attempts, the girls would have one or two that might fit the bill, but they still weren't the stellar performance for which they hoped.

Tapes ejected, backpacks restuffed, and shoulders sunk, they would trek back to the dorms to drown their imperfections in a pint of Ben & Jerry's.

I wasn't one of those girls.

No, I put a limit on myself. Three tries and then I would take the best of the three. See, no perfectionist here.
Then I started writing and the inner perfectionist manifested. If I can't get just the right word to fit into the space, the rhythm and lilt to flow just right I get so frustrated with myself.

Years ago, when I first started blogging, I blogged about anything and everything with no thought to where I could link up, who would read it, or even if anyone would want to read it. I blogged for one person and one reason. I wrote for me, myself, and I and because I wanted to. Other than that, there was no reasoning.

At times I am now paralyzed by the thoughts scurrying across my brain with the label of "to blog about." The busyness of my brain is getting in the way of the thing I love and what is one to do about it. Well, personally, I've decided on this little typographical print....I think it could apply to all of us....

Source: gatherlove.tumblr.com via Joy on Pinterest

What think ye?

of little boys and cuteness

2011-12-12T19:56:00.000-08:00

Smooth, milky white forehead presses to mine and "sing me my sunshine" is asked and I start to sing the song that mothers everywhere sing to their own personal sunshines. On-key or horribly off, he giggles and says, "Okay, mommy. Now you stay here; I want to sing you something" and he proceeds to sing back to me the very words I have sung over him time and time again.

I am convinced that this delectably kissable cuteness is the only way four year old boys make it to be five year old boys and then into fifteen year old boys and finally into men. They pull out these words, and turn into lovable, snuggle-able boys just when your patience threshold has been reached.

Prior to said cuteness, my son had just finished pushing my "He's not going to bed and it is really late" buttons. As I write this, the cuteness dissolved as he just padded down the stairs and asked for yet another unnecessary drink of water. My mother's old saying, "You will wet the bed and float down the street," comes to mind and I bite my tongue because as a child I was actually terrified of being swept out my second-story window and away from my parents' house if that happened and really don't need my son waking up with night terrors of floating down the street.

These moments, they fill my heart and make the rest of the day worth it. My head is still squished to his, and he's telling me about his day. The sweet little boy moments that make you want to just eat them up. Quietly he whispers, "I love you, mama."

My heart melts.

"Heee hee hee." the little boy giggles. "I tooted."

Ahhh. The fleeting moments.

*****

What is a sweet moment you had with your son (or daughter) recently?

How did it end?

(I hope, for your sake, less fragrantly than mine ;-)

book list {part I}

2011-12-10T01:30:00.000-08:00

I've been keeping track of all the books I've read since I was in high school. Unfortunately, I've misplaced most of those notebooks, but I do have the list of books that I've read since 2005.

Recently I was asked to share my list of books that I've read in 2011...so here goes.

1. Sunrise by Karen Kingsbury

2. Summer by Karen Kingsbury

3. Someday by Karen Kingsbury

4. Sunset by Karen Kingsbury

5. Made to Crave by Lysa Terkeurst

6. Angel Sister by Ann H. Gabhart

7. Chazown by Craig Groeschel

8. The Deepest Waters by Dan Walsh

9. Water for Elephants by Sarah Gruen

10. The Brotherhood: A Precinct 11 Novel by Jerry B Jenkins

11. Unplanned by Abby Johnson

12. Inconceivable by Carolyn Savage

So there are the first twelve.

More to come later.

What have you been reading?

Have you read any of these?

Remembering Christmas by Dan Walsh {review}

2011-12-09T17:45:00.001-08:00

Christmas season is one of my favorite times of year and nothing makes it better than a good book. This season was no exception as I was given an opportunity to review Remembering Christmas by Dan Walsh.

The main character is Rick Denton, a successful man in the eyes of the world is upset when he is drawn back to his mother's side after his stepfather suffers a medical tragedy. Thrust from his high-earning job into the world of retail, Rick learns what it truly means to appreciate Christmas and forgive past mistakes.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. If you are looking for your snuggle-under-a-blanket-next-to-your-tree novel, this is the novel for you. With a few twists and turns that I didn't expect Dan Walsh weaves a heartwarming tale that made me fall in love with the Christmas season even more. I like how Dan wove the theme of redemption throughout the book--from the spiritual redemption of Rick's heart to the visual redemption of Andrea.

I must say that I had a hard time seeing the 1980's as historical, since Dan Walsh normally writes such amazing historical fiction, but then again, I guess I need to accept the fact that things made in the 1980's are now being considered vintage on eBay. I am definitely partial to books by Dan Walsh, but I very much enjoyed this title and have already recommended it to all of my Christian fiction buddies. Definitely 5 out or 5 stars.

*****

I received a copy of this title from Revell Publishers

a division of Baker Publishing House for

review purposes. That being said, all the opinions are my own.

305 ish days {10 months}

2011-12-09T02:00:00.000-08:00

Bella turned ten months old yesterday.

I know, amazing, right?

Elizabeth over at E-Tells-Tales is not only

one of my favorite bloggers,

she is also the mommy to Mr. EE

and every month she does some awesomesauce

updates on his growth/eating/etc.

I look forward to them every month.

Now that I've gotten over the mommy guilt

of not updating for Bella I decided there's no time like the present

{that was the token blogger cliche}

and have gotten started, so, E, here's my shoutout to you

for inspiring these posts.

Bella will thank you one day that as the fourth child

you were the reason her growth wasn't completely forgotten.

Bella started sitting up about two weeks ago.

She really enjoys being able to sit up and play.

Bella is also crawling

ev.ery.where.

I've been baby proofing in earnest

and wondering how I ever survived

three other crawlers.

Another exciting thing,

Bella decided that bath time isn't

akin to torture and that she actually

enjoys water.

Yay for her.

Yay for me.

Until I started writing this post Bella wasn't

pulling herself up yet.

Then I sat down to write and she decided to

do this.

So, there's the picture.

She's pulling herself up

and tipping her toy basket over.

Bella started solids last month as well.

Because you all want to know,

she's struggling.

She loves, no, LOVES solids,

but I'm struggling to get her pooping regularly.

Because of her bowel obstruction at birth

I was wary of starting solids, so we are

taking it slowly.

Fave foods:

Mommy brand milk...body temp.

{last week Bella got 4 teeth...yes, in one week...we will see how nursing goes}

apples, peaches, yogurt, bananas,

raspberries, blueberries, avocado,

squash.

We steer clear of baby cereal because of its

constipating properties.

pinning with children

2011-12-08T01:00:00.000-08:00

I love pinterest as much as the next gal, but I only have one complaint. In my quest to find crafts to earn the supermom of the year award {you know, that award whose standards are so super high that I will never ever reach them? yeah, that one} I have yet to find a tutorial that reads like it was actually done with children.

The kiddos and I decided to make cinnamon applesauce ornaments and this is what it is like when you go pinning with children.

1. "Look at my hands!"

2. "What?"

3. Zahara is perplexed.

4. "I'm about to mash my hand into YOUR pile, Zahara!"-Viviana

5. "Ooooh, what does this do?"

6. My ice cream {read upside down snowman} is broken.

7. One moment of focused, non-chaotic play.

8. The aftermath.

So,

how does it look when you

make pinned projects with

your kids?

scents

2011-12-07T19:07:00.001-08:00

The metal handle creaks as I turn it and open the heavy door. I inhale deeply as my eyes settle on the walnut banister. It is what I have always dreamed of; a banister to wrap with evergreens and holly. I continue to inhale and at that moment I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is it. This is the house I want. The scent of warmth and home evokes the desire to curl up with a mug of cocoa and a warm blanket on the couch.

I'm sure we've all experienced the nostalgia that a familiar smell brings about. From picking a house to just enjoying said new house candles have always been my decor and even my nightly routine. Truthfully, my decorating is not complete unless it includes at least one candle. As soon as it gets dark, which is around five PM here, boo&hiss I light a candle and close my blinds and settle in for the evening. I'm always on the lookout for a candle that will burn efficiently {I'm talking all the way to the bottom of the jar} and smell tantalizing as well.

Recently I was given a Warm Apple Pie candle from Village Candle to review and I fell in love with the brand. Village Candle uses two wicks in their jar candles to make sure that the wax melts evenly; and the scent--oh my goodness the scent. I can smell this scent the minute I walk through my front door even when the candle is burning two a room away. I love that the smell of a freshly baked apple pie can waft through my house without all the hard baking work on my part. Score!

Do you enjoy candles?

If so, what is your favorite scent?

Fave scents here are apple pie, blueberry,

raspberry, cinnamon bun, orange cinnamon

and rich vanilla.

What is your favorite decor piece?

I was given a Warm Apple Pie candle from Village candle in exchange for my unbiased review of their product.

All opinions are my own, unfiltered, raw opinions.

Thanks for reading.

first foodie feast

2011-12-05T01:30:00.000-08:00

Isabella had quite the birth story, which I have yet to share here, {note to self--write birth stories soon so you can be like every other blogger on the internetzzz} and due to some of the complications I have been very apprehensive to start her on solid food.

i'm not crazy nor suicidal

and when Bella started waking up

hours

i started to re-think the food issue

also,

a good friend of mine started talking to me about

Baby Led Weaning

and I noticed that

I've pretty much always

allowed my infants to eat what they wanted

with a few restrictions.

Bella was about nine months old

when all this happened.

Another clue

was that Bella literally

salivated like Pavlov's dogs when I would eat

and tried to crawl out of our arms

to get to table food.

Bella loves real food.

Baby puree...

not so much.

She'd much rather have the real

bits to pick up and mash with her finger.

Here's a picture of her first "real" lunch.

Itty bitty pieces of cheese, apple, and bread.

Upper left: nice smiles
Upper right: okay, I'll smile again
bottom left: this is yummy CHEEEEZZZZZ!
Bottom right: this, this is real food.

Have you heard of Baby Led Weaning?

Have you ever tried it?

What were your children's first foods?

How old were they when you started weaning?

unleash the creative

2011-12-04T19:20:00.001-08:00

This weekend the creative juices took over again and I made some necklaces. I have a table at our upcoming MOPS brunch on Wednesday and I'm going to be selling these necklaces as well as some other goodies.

this one is a dark blue Swarovski egg-shaped pearl

wrapped with 24 gauge wire

to commemorate two kids these white Swarovski egg-shaped

pearls are stunning

again this is wrapped with 24 gauge silver-plated wire

Did you unleash the creative beast this weekend?

*****

presently

2011-12-01T07:30:00.001-08:00

I got this idea from reading Casey's blog and I thought I would just bring you up to speed on what's up around here.

presently i'm.....

obsessing over: crocheting, pinterest, finding more crochet patterns on pinterest, digital scrapbooking and blog design using PhotoShop Elements, sweet potato chips, egg salad sandwiches, olives, and smartfood cheddar cheese popcorn

reading:

working on: two blog designs--three if you include my personal blog and the about page that NEEDS TO GET DONE!!!!; a mailing for one of my jobs, a black and white crocheted cowl for myself, some bracelets to sell next week at our Mothers of Preschooler's Bazaar.

mulling over: instilling holiday traditions as a family of five with me as a single mom, how God creates with eternity in his mind...not necessarily for the here and now--if that makes sense, where I want to be at the end of next year and then forming my goals accordingly

anticipating: getting some writing done this weekend, sleeping in past 5:30 am, my kids opening their presents on Christmas morning, seeing family soon, being an aunt again this coming May, reading the Bible in 90 days again this New Year, all the yummy appetizers to make for Christmas....

listening to: Christa Wells When Emptiness Sings

drinking: diet Pepsi and TRYING to drink more water

wishing: to get my book written, to send my daughter to dance lessons, to read all the books on my 'to be read' list, to reach out more, to offer more,

blogs i've frequented this week: e-tells-tales, the wiegand's, Tales of Me and the Husband, Unicorns for Socialism

other: hugging these people

*****

Mom, you have a boyfriend?

2011-11-28T01:30:00.000-08:00

I was in a superbly good mood Thursday as I prepared delicious delicacies for our Turkey Day feast. I was only supposed to bring a couple of pies, but thought I would spice it up a little with some spinach/artichoke dip as well as a pumpernickel bread dip. Michael Buble crooned in the background interspersed with some Harry Connick, Jr. and other random artists picked by Pandora. I picked up the phone and dialed my dad's number to wish him Happy Thanksgiving. I won't bore you with the particulars, because I'm sure your "Happy Turkey Day" calls sounded very much like mine, but at one point the question was asked of me,

"So, what are you up to?"

"Oh, I'm just finishing up cooking and listening to my boyfriend serenade me with holiday tunes..." I jested, japed, quipped, teased, etc. Point being, I was JOKING.

Then I heard it....

and I am reminded to be VERY careful what I say around a six year old.

I then went on to explain that mommy was absolutely kidding about the boyfriend comment, especially because yes, her dad and I are separated, but normally I don't even joke about stuff like that.

So, speaking of separation, I'm sure you're wondering how that affected thanksgiving? Well, we spent it at my in-laws and had a superb time. We had yummy food {I live for the appetizers, people} and the company was just grand. We've also had leftovers for the past two days which means no cooking for moi. Mommy is happy. Here are just a few pictures from the fab turkey day...

My favorite food of this past holiday,

definitely the appetizers.

What was your favorite food?

Were you able to get

family pictures where everyone

is looking at the camera

and not picking their nose?

If so,

tell me your secret.

If not,

don't worry,

you're not alone.

grateful

2011-11-25T09:56:00.001-08:00

...for toothless grins that are starting to not be so toothless...

...for grey eyes and brown eyes and hazel eyes and walnut eyes...

...for a tousle-headed boy who's first words in the morning are "Mom, can we go downstairs, I'm hungry?"...

...for questions that I can answer and the questions that I cannot...

...for a Father who can take my ranting and raving and my "You said this's....why does it look like that's" and still love me...

...for children who push me out of my boundaries and simultaneously anchor me home...

...for family...those of blood and those of spirit...

...for grandparents still telling stories of how it was...

...for a God who sees my mess and loves me anyways...

grateful doesn't even begin to express....

*****

in which I wear the products of my Pinterest binge

2011-11-22T20:04:00.001-08:00

Source: midwesternmoms.com via Karen on Pinterest

I've been on a Pinterest binge for the past few days. I think all the angst from seeing all the amazing projects finally got to me and I had to let it all out, so here's a little taste of what I've been up to.

Source: u-createcrafts.com via Kristina on Pinterest

I've been jones-ing over this shirt for quite a while and I finally rounded up all

the goodies I needed and made it. What did I write on my shirt?

Date a Girl Who Reads by Rosemarie Urquico.

Yes, if you are still dateable, find a girl who reads.

I also saw this headband and fell in love.

Of course I *had* to make it.

Source: sugarbeecrafts.com via Jessie@imperfectlypolished on Pinterest

Here is my version complete with messy table in the background.

my gift to you?

real life.

with four kids.

I'm also working on this blanket for some Christmas gifts, but sshhhh.

Source: vanessachristenson.com via Rachel on Pinterest

cute, no?

My biggest issue with pinterest binges? the cost.

Recently I found out that my local salvation army has 25 cents day every Monday.

A specific color tag every Monday is 25 cents per item.

This week it was pinks so look what I scored

I did pay $1.99 for the navy shirt, but that one is to wear and embellish as opposed to the others that are solely for cutting up so I can make fun pinterest projects.

T-shirts come in such a variety of colors that at 25 cents each it is so much cheaper to just buy them as opposed to shopping all over the place for a color that I like.

Here it is when it all comes together complete with my overstuffed and unorganized bookshelf in the background as well as the strips for that zig zag quilt hanging over said bookshelf to keep them out of kids' reach.

That headband is a different color {you can play match it with one of my 25 cent t-shirts above ;-)}

and the shirt is my watermark tee and the jeans are my most comfortable thrifted pair that I bought for

$2.60.

I feel so accomplished.

Now I'm off to Pinterest to find more projects to do.

{realistically I am off to change someone's diaper. just keepin' it real}

Have you made anything off of Pinterest?

If so, what?

If you need an invite just email me at

kristinapetrella (at) yahoo (dot) com

and I will shoot one to you

:-)

*****

Works for Me Wednesday

watching

2011-11-22T19:11:00.001-08:00

My feet leave impressions in the plush, shag carpet that covers the dining room and extends into the living room. I'm jittery with excitement, running pell-mell through the house; weaving to and for half hopped up on sugar and the rest on sheer expectation of the meal to come.

Sure there is turkey, potatoes, and cranberry sauce, but as I peek over the table my eyes settle on the prize. In the middle of the table they sit, black orbs piled high in gleaming glass bowls. My eyes dart to the kitchen and then to the living room. Peals of laughter and instructions to "do this" or "stir that" ring from the other room and I gingerly pick one up, positioning it just so on my left index finger; middle, ring, pinky, until all my fingers are decorated with the yummy-ness and I pop them into my mouth, one-by-one savoring the flavor--index, middle, ring, pinky. Repeat.

This Thanksgiving I'm so thankful to watch my little ones do the same thing.

What's your relationship like as far as olives are concerned?
Love 'em?
Hate 'em?

40 Days, 10 Titles {top ten Tuesday}

2011-11-21T19:22:00.001-08:00

I've seem to have gotten a a bit of a reputation for being a prolific reader. Since my "to-read" book list is much longer than my "read" book list, I thought I would share the ten books that I want to finish reading before we ring in the new year. Yes, that means in the next forty days I will read ten books--at least that's the goal. So, you ready?

1. Thin Places by Mary DeMuth

2. Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater

3. The Tower, the Zoo, and the Tortoise by Julie Stuart

4. Do You Think I'm Beautiful by Angela Thomas

5. Grace Is For Sinners by Serena Woods

6. Paris, Baby by Kirsten Lobe

7. A Secret Kept by Tatiana De Rosnay

8. About Grief by Ron Marasco and Brian Shuff

9. When Did I Get Like This by Amy Wilson

10. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

So that's the plan. Forty days, ten books.

I am leaving room to rotate a few of these books out if they are too heavy for my own good, but for the most part I would like these books to be on 2011's book list rather than 2012's.

How about you?

Are there any books that you are dying to finish before the ball drops?

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