Saying Goodbye

To this old friend...

In favor of a lighter version.

And goodbye to this:


In favor of a non-wood color, but that's a surprise.

And hopefully, goodbye to having to take a nap every day. These last few weeks have been rough and it's taken a lot longer for me to recover than I expected. But I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel...and so the projects begin again. (Although I still might take the occasional nap.)

My Father's Dragon projects and activities

 

We are focusing a lot on literature during this first year of school. In the last few weeks we've read The Chronicles of Narnia, Mr. Popper's Penguins, A Bear Called Paddington, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, and My Father's Dragon. Besides being the shortest on the list, this last book was by far the most captivating for the five-year old boy set. I found this link for a free lap book full of ideas to go along with this book.

My Mom passed along the great idea of photo-copying the cover of each book and having the children narrate the story on the back. The kids have these covers in their school notebook so they can look back and remember all the books we read this year. It's also pretty funny to hear what they comprehend. Coop's narratives are thorough and provide a nice overview. Sweet A's reveal she was coloring and crafting way more than listening, which is okay when you are only three years old. For Mr. Popper's Penguins I think her narrative went like this (Spoiler ALERT!): "First there were no penguins. Then they came. Then they sailed away on a ship."

As you were growing up, what was your favorite book? I have a love/hate relationship with Carry On, Mr. Bowditch.

Free Audio Book of the Day

No, this will not become a series. Although, who knows?! If you guys keep sending me great links perhaps it will. I seem to get my coolest info from my internet peeps.

Today's deal:
Stepping Heavenward, by Elizabeth Prentiss


"How dreadfully old I am getting! Sixteen!" Thus begins the lifelong diary of young Katherine as she pours out her hopes, dreams, and spiritual journey on the pages of her dear, old journal. Whimsical and charming Katherine is engagingly candid about her character flaws and her desire to know God. As you listen to her share her heart through these journal entries, you will be amazed and delighted by the depth of her character and the womanly wisdom and godliness she develops over the years. From the agonies of being a teenager to the delicate balancing act between being a wife/mother/daughter/neighbor, it is easy to relate to Katherine's triumphs and trials whether you are 16 or 60. Listen to her unforgettable story set in the early 1800's as you are encouraged to "step heavenward," and don't be surprised if you find yourself recommending it to all of your friends and family!

This is the unabridged version of this wonderful classic book, with a great new reading by Theresa Downey, just  published at Librivox.org, and far superior to earlier versions. If you've never read or heard this story before, do yourself and your young ladies a favor and download it today!

Somewhat trivial question of the day

We ripped up all the carpet in this house when we moved, and found beautiful (if you like 60's goldish red hardwood...it really is lovely and in top notch condition) hardwood underneath. We also have chickens in the backyard, a little acreage, and live on a busy road that stirs up dust. I make my kids keep their shoes off inside the house, which they mostly remember to do. So with that background info, here's my question for all you hardwood floor keepers:

How do you keep them clean??? I sweep once, usually twice a day. This is manageable because the main floor is relatively small. Our old vacuum -which used to perfectly suit our carpet needs- doesn't cut it on these floors. I keep thinking if only I had the right tool, they would stay cleaner. I use a dust mop and water with a tiny bit of all purpose cleaner about once a week.

Of course, every time (daily) I sweep up a big pile of grass and dirt I think about how that could be buried in my carpet. So I am thankful for the small things (not being in my carpet).

Ideas?

A little grace

Thank you for your kind words last week. I felt so loved and supported from friends near and far, and even from a few I don't know well who took the time to send me a note. My inbox spilled over with emails from hurting women; I had no idea these fertility struggles were the cause of such quiet, hidden sorrow in the lives of so many. 

One of the main lessons I learned in the last week is this: we need to give our sisters a little more grace. None of us knows why "she" didn't seem as friendly to us the other day, or why someone else turned down our lunch invitation for no apparent reason, or why someone else seems a little distant. There are a lot of hurting people who need to be loved. Some of us are talkers (yours truly) and when we need help we usually pick up the phone. Many others need to be drawn out, and asked how they are doing and how we can pray for them...and what we can practically do to show our love.

I'm not trying to turn this into something preachy, except maybe a sermon to myself. I am thankful for the lessons the Lord is teaching me. (And re-teaching, and re-teaching...will I ever learn???)

On a lighter note, I spent Labor Day trying to restore order to the house after a week of neglect. We did have some friends and college students over for a cookout, and Sweet A and I made chocolate mint ice cream. Shredding the remainder of my Mint Green & Black chocolate bar really did make it an over-the-top treat (not that I would ever say that about my own cooking, but all my friends say...).

 

I also spent a little time rearranging bookshelves in an effort to hold off buying yet another piece of furniture. I really wanted the kids to have access to all their art supplies (minus the paint) so when we read aloud they can craft away. The problem is that all my children are very (normally) short, so I had to create accessible space under 3.5 feet. Here's what we ended up with...

It was one of those small, unimpressive rearrangements that will change our lives. Both bookcases were purchased used, within the last few months. The one on the left was $5 at a garage sale. The one on the right was from Craigslist, has a hole in it, and I could have bought a new one at Wal-mart for about the same price. You win some, you lose some.

Oh, and in other big news, Coop was seen taking his own training wheels off yesterday and decided it was time he rode his bike without them. He's a pro! And very proud of himself. For the rest of the day he kept inviting us to come watch him one more time. Fun times.

 

A time to be silent and a time to speak

FYI...this is going to be very long.

I know some people who avoid reading blogs because what they read is either 1) filled with every day minutia and commentary (and complaining) about that minutia, or 2) highlighting only a portion of a person's life- what they would like to present, which more often than not is neat and clean, colorful and fun, and full of happiness and creativity (and apparently endless amounts of time). The first example can actually be interesting if you are related to the person (hi, dad!) and I'm not saying there isn't a place for it (minus the grumbling). I have over 50 blogs in my reader, and countless examples of friends who are using this blog medium to edify, educate, and entertain. (I should write sermons, with my three points all starting with the same letter.) Some people are able to infuse everyday, relate-able experiences with beauty and joy and help others to see the same in their own lives. Some help us find humor in the hum drum. Some are online confessions (just kidding, Lea...I loved that post)!

As someone who has chosen to blog, it is hard to know what to share, and what to avoid. On the one hand (and this applies even if you do mostly have close friends and family as readers), do people really care about the ins and outs of everyday life, and if they do, do they want to read about it online or hear about it from you personally? On the other hand, if you only share the bright and beautiful (no pun intended), it isn't a true picture of this life of faith, and I think it can be discouraging to those who might be tempted to compare their lives with what they imagine on the screen. I've probably landed on the "share less" side of things, just to avoid falling into the blathering complainer category, but my goal is to speak things that will edify. Sometimes, my attitude just isn't good enough to write anything edifying about the frustrating day I had, and so nothing gets said about it. You get the point...it's a tough balance.

So, with all that philosophizing in mind, I sit here wondering how to share about the last few months of my life. The house is coming together, we've started kindergarten (so much fun!), and we given potty training a whirl (not so much fun!)...and we'll give it another go in a few months and maybe it will take then. (So now you know the rest of the story...)

But I would be lying if I said it had been an easy summer. Full of joy: yes! Every minute: no. "Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present,  but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." Hebrews 12:11.

After having three kids in just over three years we were feeling like we could hardly sit next to each other without getting pregnant. We didn't have Coop until I was 27, which seemed late to me at the time (especially when I had friends who were already on babies 4 or 5 by my age!), and so we never took our fertility for granted. But we also thought we'd spend our entire young married life having babies: on our 5th anniversary I realized I'd been pregnant or nursing for all but four months of our marriage!

In May of this year, I knew I was pregnant (I start getting sick before a missed cycle). Coffee made me throw up, I was gagging when I brushed my teeth, the heartburn started, I was bloated and couldn't fit into any of my clothes. I was unusually sick for as newly pregnant as I was. I went to Florida to visit my parents, and I even took maternity clothes because I was so uncomfortable in my regular clothes (that's the trip where I forgot all my hang up clothes anyway...so I bought elastic-waist skirts). :) I'd decided to wait until Mother's Day to take a test because a test was just a formality anyway. But I started bleeding the day before, and my temperature started dropping (if you chart for fertility, you will probably know what's going on before any doctor or test can tell you), and I knew what was happening. It was a shock...I wasn't far along, but it was so unexpected. I was sad, but so thankful for the children I already had, and to be honest- I know the statistics and early miscarriage rates are high- I was thankful nothing had ever happened before then. I packed away my maternity clothes and for the first time since Baby T was born, we were really eager to have a baby.

Fast-forward to July, and I was pregnant again. Excited and cautious, I watched my temps rise each morning, started getting sick, had to take naps every day...all the usual stuff. And then I started bleeding, again. But I still felt nauseated for two weeks, so I decided to go to the dr. and get some bloodwork done. After a series of tests, she confirmed my hCG levels were dropping, and that I had miscarried. For some reason, since I didn't have it confirmed until after the fact, it wasn't overwhelmingly sad. I felt so poorly and I was just anxious to be able to start feeling back to normal again and take care of my family. I started using some natural progesterone cream, and within a few days I was feeling much better. I researched a little on natural hormone deficiencies and found a whole online sub-culture of women who are desperate for answers as to why they can't conceive, and thought, "I never want to be that crazy!" (Yes, I was insensitive, and yes, there are women who will stop at nothing to get a baby.) When I talked to my dr. last she said, "Next time you think you are pregnant, come in right away."

So, two weeks later, last Friday, there I was, getting another blood test. I was fairly sure I was pregnant, but my body isn't as predictable as it used to be, so when she called to say I was, there was an element of surprise (especially since I had miscarried only 4 weeks earlier) and probably more hope and joy. Perhaps I did just have a progesterone deficiency, and that's been cleared up and here we are. Some people like to wait to tell about their pregnancies, but we decided early on that we'd rather have the prayer support. We told the family (minus the kids) cautiously on Sunday, asked them to pray, knowing this week was probably crucial since the other miscarriages happened early.

Monday was the first day I felt really sick all day- normal, pregnant, eat every-two-hours sick. I was relieved. I went grocery shopping and bought lots of high protein snacks. I called several midwives and friends who are experienced in early miscarriage and started being pro-active about investing in this pregnancy. And on Tuesday morning I realized my temperature was dropping. I wanted to be hopeful, but I woke Warren up, and bawled my eyes out. Little T woke up crying, and I was all too happy to hold him, and weep over him, wondering if he would be my last little one to snuggle. I waited the day out, and by late evening, it was clear I was losing another baby. It was a miserable day. A fighting day, full of wavering between trying to grab hold of the promises of God, and wanting to cry and question. Mothers lay down their lives to protect their children, and I felt like my body was failing this little life (I know that isn't a reasonable thought, but it was what I was fighting in the moment). It was good the kids didn't know- it forced me to do the right thing and serve them (and start school) despite how I felt. 

And yet, God is faithful, and these trials are training us in righteousness. My sister-in-law (bless you!!!!) took my kids yesterday and made me dinner, and I spent the day mostly in bed with my Bible and some books. I wasn't prepared for the spiritual battle that accompanied the physical pain. I re-read some of Future Grace, by John Piper. When I was tempted to get overwhelmed at the thought of not knowing why we continue to miscarry or if we will ever have more children, the Holy Spirit brought to mind, "Fear not for I am with you, be not dismayed for I am your God, I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you, with My victorious right hand." (Isaiah 41:10) There is a promise for every fear, for every anxious thought, every overwhelming sorrow. 

All it takes is a little time spent outside of my house (at church, online) to remember that the world if FULL of the effects of sin and sorrow. Yes, this has been a small trial, and we have grieved. But my 5 year-old isn't dying. I am not in an abusive marriage. My husband isn't in jail. I didn't carry a baby full term only to watch her suffer and die. I'm not in an endless battle with cancer. I know people in all of these situations. I am more sensitive to their pain and more motivated to pray for them.

I am a lot more sympathetic towards those desperate women, longing to have children. I am not desperate- we are delighted with the family God has given us. But this does give me more compassion, especially since even after going through this three times, my doctor really had no suggestions (other than one, run-of-the-mill drug) to prevent this in the future. We will research on our own and pursue some common-sense health solutions (eating well, exercising, sleep), but you really do have to be your own advocate when it comes to your health.

So, I've risked blathering to share what God is doing in our family, with the hope that someone out there will be encouraged. There is comfort and healing in knowing a tough experience will be used to help someone else. Go hug your kids, squeeze your babies, and thank God for the blessings- and the trials- he has lovingly bestowed for today.