Mission: Organization

I am not an organized person by nature. My VERY organized, structured, sterotypical Type A husband would agree that I'm about as far from a natural organizer as possible. Even when I was a kid I remember my room could be a wreck and yet, somehow, I knew exactly where things were.

That's true now too. I know where things are, usually. I can nearly always tell my husband detailed directions on how to find something that's, in his eyes, missing.

"It's on the counter where we used to have the fish tank in a blue basket."

Just before Luke left for Guinea-Bissau he was searching for a watch. I gave him those instructions and he came back later saying, "If you have time, could you find that watch. I didn't see it."

I went to the location I had told him, looked, and it was there. It was just in a blue basket under another blue basket. But still, right where I knew it was.

Even though I could totally function on a day to day basis with my personal (and often chaotic) style of living, I'm beginning to realize that with our ever-expanding family, real organization is key to having a thriving, enjoyable and even manageable home.

In fact, while we were gone out of town and Luke was in Guinea-Bissau, I had someone come and clean our house. That was on Saturday. We got home Sunday and by Monday the house was a wreck. By Tuesday, I didn't even want to be home.

I want our house to be a haven for our family. I want it to reflect the love and joy I get from having such a large family. I want it to be a peaceful retreat from work for my husband and a loving, organized, clean environment for my children (and myself!).

But y'all, this comes so unnaturally for me. And by unnatural I mean it would be like a shark eating seaweed or a horse walking on its back legs.

I have great ideas for organization. I have even tried a few of them. I've tried Fly Lady. My BFF Amanda sent me this book and I'm slowly reading through it, gathering ideas and desiring (desperately) to implement them.  I've tried bins and sorting and chores for our kids. I've tried systems and procedures and processes and what-not.

It all lasts about 2 weeks then we seem to have chaos hit our lives (sickness, travel, new baby) and then BOOM, we're off the wagon again and back to a cluttered, poor functioning house.

If you're a super organized, very clean living person, I'm sure our house would drive you nuts in about 57 seconds. Don't get me wrong - our house isn't up for an episode of Hoarders, and for the most part it isn't gross (I mean our kitchen/dining room floors stay pretty nasty) but it's just cluttered and unorganized and generally messy.

I found this blog where she's posting about 31 days to an organized home. I'd LOVE to try it but, honestly, I don't want to invest my time making our house more organized if we can't stick to the plan. Maybe I should try Fly Lady again. Or maybe there's another system or life-style change I could try.

Really, I just want to ask you:

What works for you to keep your home orderly, tidy and clean?

Whether you have 10 kids or no children, I find that this is an area where everyone likes new ideas, tips, tricks and methods.  I'd love any ideas, sites, references or links you could provide!

Thanks!

Dance Party

We like to dance in our house. A lot.

Notice I didn't say we are good dancers, we just like it. Olivia has never met a song she doesn't like and typically busts a move anytime there is any sort of melody playing.

Too bad she's too concerned with seeing herself on the computer to really show y'all her skills. This is currently our family's favorite dance song. We listened to it approximately 2,357,691 times on our road trip last week.

Enjoy. I personally think everything about this is hilarious.


Dance Party from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Military wives must be as tough as their husbands

11 days ago I took Luke and 5 other men to the airport. Their goal? To take the gospel to the unreached people of Guinea-Bissau, West Africa.

Over the past week, the kids and I have traveled over 1,500 miles visiting friends and family in Tennessee, Mississippi and Arkansas. It was an awesome distraction and I must admit the traveling wasn't nearly as hard as the last 2 days have been with us being back at home and Luke not being here.

I knew that he did a lot for me, around the house, helping with the kids, keeping me sane... you know, normal stuff. But I guess I never realized the details.

Until he was gone, I realized that I can't remember that last time I made the coffee.

Or took out the trash.

Or had to bathe the kids all by myself, multiple times in a week.

Or fed the dog.

Or put gas in the van.

I know those are just simple things, but they are simple things I took for granted.

And, y'all, I'm blessed with incredible friends. I got so many texts this week from people reminding me that they're praying for us. Then yesterday after church I realized we only had a splash of milk left. That wouldn't bode well for us the next morning. I sent out a tweet stating our "crisis" and said maybe I'd take all 6 kids to the store with me. Within minutes I had 2 friends text me offering to bring milk over.  Then, about 10 minutes later, my awesomely amazing friend Amanda was on my doorstep, gallon of 2% in hand.

Y'all, only God designs friendships like that.

The whole week I just kept thinking (in addition to how amazing my friends are) about military wives and how they do this day in and day out for months, sometimes years, at a time.

I have a few friends that are military wives and I've always felt called to pray over them but once more God allowed me a small glimpse into their lives and I know that I need to desperately be on my knees for them as they endure the time between when their spouses leave and when they return.

Y'all I had it so easy. 11 days. That's nothing. And I had a full time helper, my friend Grace, who skipped 2 days of college and took the rest of her fall break to bless me with her help and company.

I pray that the Lord reminds me often the sacrifice military spouses make and to pray for them earnestly. I hope you'll join me and if you know the spouse of a military serviceman or woman that you'll encourage them yourself.

I'm convinced that military wives must be as tough as their husbands, if not tougher. ;)

It's just about noon here and Luke will be home in about 7 hours. I'm so ready I can hardly stand it. Dear Lord, please make this day go by quickly.

Das Not Funny! Friday: It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a turd - in the bathtub

It's happened with every single one of our six kids. Still, every time it happens it grosses me out to the point of gagging, pregnant or not.

Ella is at the stage now that no matter what she eats she manages to smear it all over her body such that no washcloth can dare make a dent in her sloppiness. Typically after breakfast and lunch she requires a quick bath to scrub off all the sticky.

Earlier this week, I plopped her in the tub, added some bubbles and went back into the kitchen to quickly wipe off her booster seat and the table where she had fingerpainted with her Cocoa Puffs.

Approximately 1.5 minutes later I walk back into the bathroom and begin scooping full cups of soapy bubbly water over her head so that we could wash and continue with our day. About 3 scoops in, the bubbles part like the Red Sea and there is a turd. Chillin' on the bottom of the tub like Pharaoh's army. Ew. Ew. Ew.

Not only have I submerged my own hands into the poop water but I've also washed my child in bubbly poop water.

Not good.

I take my naked 18 month old out of the tub, stand her on the rug and drain the tub. I clear the debris out of the tub then realize I need some cleanser to clean out any hidden debris. I decide that I'd rather not have my naked, soaking wet, poop-washed baby sprinting through the house, so like a good mother, I close the bathroom door behind me and sprint down the hall to the kitchen to grab some Castile soap.

Soap and brush in hand, I dash back to the bathroom. My hand rests upon the door knob yet I am unable to turn it.

My sweet, darling, naked, slimy, poop-water covered 18 month old has LOCKED THE BATHROOM DOOR. I should have known. Pushing buttons is her new hobby.

"Ella!" I yell, "Ella! Unlock the door!" I jiggle the doorknob.

From the other side of the door I hear, "Eeeewa! Eeeewa! Ubba daaa!" as her pudgy little fingers rattle the doorknob, mocking my every move.

I knock on the door. "Ella," I say more softly, "open the door Sissy."

To my surprise, I hear her say, more softly, "Eeeeewa, ubbbba daaa ssssssss," as she gently knocks back to me the same rhythm I just tapped out to her.

This copycat knocking and jiggling of door handles continues for the next 3 or so minutes until I realize that my darling, naked, poopy-water covered child, who knows how to open doors and has done so many, many, many times against my better wishes, is NOT opening the door any time soon.

And why should she? I mean, what more fun is it than a game of copy cat with an hysterical Mommy?

I grab my car keys, praying our house key somehow fits the lock of the bathroom. It doesn't but it does manage to turn the knob just enough that I hear the click of the lock popping out the other side of the door.

I push the door open and find my slimy, naked, smiling babe standing beside the tub, bottle of bubbles in her hand, looking at me wondering why in the heck it's taken me so long to get back in the bathroom.

Y'all, it's never a dull moment around here. Ever.

Being holy

It's probably no secret that I pretty much adore my husband. I mean, I agree that he has flaws and he messes up sometimes. But, generally speaking, I could spend all day talking about how wonderful he is and how much he blesses me.

In fact, when we went to Candidate Week the psychologist, about 10 minutes into our 3 hour session, leaned into me and said, rather pointedly, "You over idealize your marriage. Which is odd because the rest of your scores seem to indicate that you're a pretty direct and blunt person."

I looked her in the eye and as nicely as I could say it I responded with, "I don't over idealize my marriage. I simply know how blessed I am."

My husband is selfless, strong, loyal, gentle and hard working, characteristics that many men do not choose to display. He is not afraid to tell me, our children or the important people in his life that he loves them.

Today, my man (along with 5 other men) leaves for 11 days to travel to Guinea-Bissau, West Africa. I went to Guinea-Bissau back in April. I'm so excited that Luke will have the opportunity to visit the places I went, meet the people I met and, most importantly, share the Gospel with unreached people. He gets the amazing privilege of sharing the power of Jesus Christ with people who may have never before heard His name.

A few weeks ago, I emailed several of the men in Luke's life who encourage him, challenge him and walk the road of brotherhood in Christ with him. I asked them if they'd like to write him a note to encourage him while he's half way around the world, disconnected from everything that's normal to him.

As the emails began to flood my inbox I couldn't resist reading each letter as I printed and sealed them. Every single time, hot tears stung the back of my eyes as I read the words of other men, writing to encourage this man the Lord has blessed me with.

They see it too. They see him, know him and love him.

Most of these men have seen Luke at his worst. Short-tempered with our kids, low on compassion for me, unshowered, unshaved and, even one of them, unforgiven.

Yet here they are, sending in words of confirmation, encouragement and conviction to this man they consider a friend. In fact, more than once they referenced him as their brother. Not just in the context of our faith, but in the context of their own families.

They see it too. They know him, flaws and all and they see it too.

I couldn't contain my tears as I stuffed envelopes, labeled them for each day of his journey and packaged them in a neat pile. Tears spilled over onto my cheeks as I thought about the time, the care and the ways these men have poured into my husband.

I stuffed in some additional cards from our oldest 3 kids, cards they've written, colored, stickered and sealed with copious amounts of tape.

Love. Poured onto paper for this man I have the privilege of walking through life with.

Over the last several weeks, I've prayed this scripture over Luke and the 5 other men that left today for Guinea-Bissau, West Africa.

Therefore, preparing your minds for action, and being sober-minded, set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.”

(1 Peter 1:13-16 ESV)

For the past several months, I've watched Luke prepare, as best as he can, for this trip. He's studied the scriptures, prayed hours upon hours, received shots and prayed over me and the kids. And, in turn, I've seen a level of holiness exude from him that I've never seen before.

Will you join me in praying this for the men on the team and that the Lord will prepare the hearts of the people in the villages to hear about the greatest plan of Salvation the world has ever known?

I too would cherish your prayers as the children and I travel over the next week. We're getting out of town while Luke's gone so we can stay sane and (hopefully) make the time pass quickly.

Thanks friends.

It's a.....

With Ella, we didn't find out her gender until she was born. It was fun not knowing if she was a he or she for the duration of my pregnancy. There was great fun in finding out if we were having a girl or boy with the 1st words my doctor said upon her delivery.

We found out Elizabeth's gender (our 1st born).

With Lucas and Ashlee, well, finding out that we were having twins was surprise enough so we didn't feel like we needed any more surprises. :)

We didn't even know about Aaron or Olivia until we got the call for them on the days they were born.

So not finding out Ella's gender until her birth was new for us. Exciting even.

With Beaver Baby #7 growing inside me and with each little flutter of kicks, we'd planned not to find out Baby #7's gender until his or her birth as well.

That was until couple weeks ago when Elizabeth asked me why we couldn't find out what Baby #7 was.

"Well," I said, "it's really up to your Dad. I don't care either way if we find out or if we wait. But Daddy likes to wait."

A few days later Elizabeth quietly asks Luke, "Dad? Can I change your mind about something?"

I think Luke panicked at first, wondering what she could be wanting.

"Can we please find out what the baby is? Pretty, pretty please?"

Over the course of the last week Elizabeth has continued to prod steer trick beg persuade Luke into finding out this new baby's gender.

Today, was our "big" ultrasound, the anatomy scan where the option to find out the baby's gender was, well, an option.

In the waiting room, Luke's soft side won out and he looked at Elizabeth and asked her, "Well, do we want to find out what the baby is?"

She was beside herself excited. And so were Lucas and Ashlee.

That is, until the doctor scanned and then announced,

"It looks like it's a GIRL!"

Then all of Lucas' hopes and dreams were crushed when he realized he'd have FIVE sisters and still only ONE brother.

Y'all pray for him. :)

We couldn't be more blessed or pleased.

Das Not Funny! Friday: Work it out

I finally have managed to remember some of the funny things the kids have said lately. What better reason to have a Das Not Funny! Friday? I can think of not one more reason. Plus, blogging is fun.

Lately, Ashlee has begun old-school preacher length bedtime prayers. She is uber careful to include each person in our family. Including Brinkley. The dog.

"And dear God, please help Momma not frow up so much. And help her to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Daddy not to get frusterwated. And help him to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Aaron not to cry all the time. And help him to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Woocus not to hit and push. And help him to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Ewizabets not to be so bossy. And help her to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Wivia not to pee in her pants because it frustwates Mommy. And help her to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Ella Goat not to bite people because biting hurts their feelings and their skin. And help her to work it out."

"And dear God, please help Bwinkley not to bark so much because she's loud. And help her to work it out.

------

Ella has starting talking. It's so cute. Except when her answer is "Nuh." (No.)

I asked her if she wanted to contribute to today's post.

I bet you can guess her answer.

"Nuh."

------

Aaron has to be the fastest pooper ever. Not that I'm complaining since he does that in the potty exclusively now.

Yesterday while we waited on the older 3 to finish up piano lessons, we went outside to play on the playground. Naturally, as soon as we get down there, with no point of re-entry to the building he has to poop. We make a long trek around the side of the church (up a hill) toward the unlocked door.

Please keep in mind I am carrying Ella, who weighs just as much as her older brother and sister, at a whopping 27lbs, while Olivia insists on hopping/jumping/flinging her body forward no matter where we are going. And with no specific speed.

Aaron is walking on his tippy toes, butt cheeks squinched, hand firmly grasping his backside.

We hustle, hustle, hustle (I use that word loosely) up the hill, inside the building and back down the stairs so Aaron can use the toilet.

He sits and approximately 20 seconds later this conversations ensues.

"Mom. I done. Come wipe me."

"Buddy, push some more out okay? Get it all out."

"But I all done. I already gone."

"Just a little more, okay? Make sure it's all out."

(Fake grunt) "It all out now. Noooooooooo more poop is in my butt. Come see!"

Uh. No thanks. I trust you. I'm sure you worked it out just fine, all on your own.

Y'all have a great weekend.

Worth more than a thousand words: A Ministry Fundraiser

I've always loved pictures. Those precious moments captured on film to be forever saved when your memory one day fails you.

When I was in college I remember getting my first camera and rushing to the one-hour photo lab, getting a roll developed while I waited, and then scouring through them to see if even one was worth the price of developing.

(courtesy of Autumn Song Photography) 

Sometimes I'd get a picture where not everyone was looking but instead, a moment in time was forever inked onto paper, creating a visual memory I could tangibly hold in my hands. I still flip through old photos sometimes and memories come flooding back. Friends I've lost touch with, then remember how much I miss them.

(courtesy Bill Broere Photography)

Now that I'm a mother, pictures take on a whole new meaning. I look at the images that have been captured behind the lens of a camera and I see so much more. I see chubby fingers that have grown slender and will no longer get tangled in my hair. I see plump cheeks that have turned into distinct kid faces, no longer squishy and covered in drool.

(courtesy of Autumn Song Photography)

And when I look at pictures of my kids now, I think about how the faces I'm seeing will morph from the face of a little girl, into the face of a woman. I wonder what features will remain distinctive and which will fade with maturity and time.

(courtesy of Autumn Song Photography)

So when Autumn Song Photography and Bill Broere Photography agreed to partner with us to do a photography fundraiser for our ministry, I was beside myself with joy. Not only do both of these men capture breath taking moments from behind the camera but they both have a heart for the Lord.

(courtesy of Bill Broere Photography)

On October 30, 2011 both of these men are donating their professional services for the sole purpose of raising support for our ministry and the people of Africa.

(courtesy of Autumn Song Photography)

These two men are taking their God-given talents and using them for the glory of God's name to be taken to the ends of the earth.

(courtesy of Autumn Song Photography)

Not only will your sitting fee be tax-deductible but you will also have the joy of looking back on memories that will last a lifetime. Images that you can look at years from now and remember that two-toothed grin that has now changed into a toddler boy, then later into a young man.

(courtesy of Autumn Song Photography)

As you reflect on the joy of the blessings in your own life, you will also be blessing others with the joy of Christ's name being proclaimed to generation after generation.

(courtesy Bill Broere Photography)

If you live in the North Carolina area and you'd like more information on how you can participate in this amazing fundraiser, get some amazing photographs for your family and help take the message of the good news of Jesus Christ to the unreached people of Kenya, you can email me at:

beaverbunch (at) gmail (dot) com

Please put "Photography Fundraiser" in the subject line.

All donations from this event will be tax-deductible. We look forward to seeing you on October 30th!