Ella Joy at 7 months

I've already written this post once, then lost it. If this kid wasn't so cute....

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I know I say this every month, but I can't believe how BIG my baby is getting. Seven months. SEVEN. Seriously. Stop.the.time.

At seven months my sweet Ella Joy enjoys being in the thick of the family action. She enjoys being dressed up by her bigger sisters. I use the term enjoys loosely. Very loosely. She also enjoys finding stray markers that her older siblings have left on the floor.

Good thing that color goes so nicely with her eyes.

At 7 months Ella is sitting up nicely all by herself, obviously. She is oh so proud of herself because she can now do a 1-armed army crawl to find all the paper, plastic, much-too-small toys, shoes and whatever else is considered a no-go for her mouth. She drags herself everywhere and has just about given up being confined to 1 particular spot, like the exersaucer or bumbo.

I do believe, though, that she's at least 1/3 part billy goat. That girl will try to eat anything. In fact, just a week or so ago we brought her in and placed her in her exersaucer near (but not too close - we thought!) a pile of still-stacked groceries. Little Miss Chubby Fingers proceeded to give her Mother a heart attack when she weaseled her hands close enough, ripped off a small piece of plastic bag and then proceeded to half choke, then swallow said piece of plastic. Praise God she didn't seriously choke. I was a nervous wreck for the next 12 hours until I saw that same little piece of plastic show up in her diaper.

Truly though, this kid loves to eat stuff. And it doesn't have to be food. In fact, while I was playing around with the settings on my camera, Little Miss Goat decided leaves were a good snack. The little turkey even took a bite of one and ate it before I could get it out of her little fat hands. However, her appetite for all things non-food is not because she isn't getting any baby food. At night she eats anywhere from 6 - 8 cubes of baby food. The she nurses and goes to bed and sleeps anywhere from a 6-8 hour stretch.

See that yellow leaf? As soon as I snapped that picture she took her a chunk out of it and I couldn't pry her jaws open to retrieve it. Guess I'll see it sometime tomorrow.

Anyway, I'm having trouble remembering all the milestones that she's accomplishing because I've already written this post once and darn it if information doesn't leave my brain the second I tag it as disposable. Let's see, crawling, food, sleeping...oh...food again. She also eats some of those baby rice cake things. With all the other kids those gave a me a good 10-20 minute break. Not so much with Ella. She devours hers like a wood chipper. She's still not so good at picking up cheerios or puffs but I think that's mostly because she doesn't have to. If she struggles with them too long, other people feel the need to help her by shoving them in her mouth. She drinks from a sippy on occasion but prefers her liquid from 1 specific source. ;)

She's got a full 8 teeth in and is working on cutting her 9th. She grinds them constantly. She really belly laughs now, often at the other kids, especially Elizabeth. She gets such a kick out of them jumping and falling down just for her. I think she knows she captivates all of us with her smiles and laughter.

She's still incredibly laid back but she doesn't like be away from the crowd. Wherever the kids are is where she wants to be. She's rarely fussy, typically sweet-natured and has turned into quite the wiggle worm. She used to enjoy just sitting on my lap when ever we went outside or if I was in the floor with the kids. Not any more. She flings her body around like a worm in hot ashes trying to escape so she can crawl...or eat something. Goat. She still enjoys being carried in the sling or kikoi and she's still the sweetest baby I've ever known.

She just delights me so much everyday. They all do really. She makes our home so much more sweet and lives, every bit, up to her name by providing our entire family with unspeakable JOY.

It's a lip, it's a lip, it's a lip, lip, lip

Remember that time Lucas "swallowed" a brass peg?

Remember that other time Lucas pushed Ashlee and we had to have her forehead glued shut?

Remember how when both of those things happened, I wasn't actually supervising my kids? Instead, they were playing in our basement, unattended, both times.

You should also note that both times when I took each of my kids in to the pediatrician, we saw Dr. "R." Dr. R is the oldest doctor in our peds office and, despite the claims of other Moms I know, I really like Dr. R. He's seen a lot in his years of practicing medicine so I trust that what he says is usually right.

However, Dr. R always questions, to the detail, how mishaps happen in our family. When we took Lucas in Dr. R kept asking, "So did you see him swallow the peg?"

To which I had to answer, repeatedly, "No. I was upstairs and he was in the basement."

"Unattended?" Dr. R asks.

"Yes," I mummer, lowering my head in shame.

Then, just ONE WEEK later, I had Ashlee in the peds office and again, we see Dr. R. I mean, there are like 7 different doctors in that office. Seriously?

As Dr. R is looking at Ashlee's head he begins with the questioning. "So, how did she do this?"

"Well," I stammer, "I'm not exactly sure. She and her brother were playing in the basement and she hit her head on something, I'm not sure really. Maybe the floor or a toy..." I trail off.

"So, no one was with them?"

"No," I say, as Dr. R glues Ashlee's forehead together.

I'd like to proudly announce that we made it a WHOLE YEAR without having to endure Dr. R's questioning again. A whole 13 months actually, almost to the day.

Last night we broke our streak.

While I upstairs, I heard it. Aaron's first shriek came from the kitchen. I'll admit, I didn't run downstairs, mostly because Aaron cries. A lot. Over nothing mostly. He's a tough kid. He jumps off of things that make my heart stop and he can stick a landing better than most Olympic Medalists. He runs and dives face first in the yard on purpose, then giggles.

Yet, I wipe his nose and he cries for 3 minutes because "It hurt wite der." (Points to nostril) or he stubs his toe ON THE RUG and "Owwwwiiiiiieeeee. I hurt Mommy, wite der."

Seriously dude? Whatever.

Anyway, so I don't rush downstairs. But then, I hear it. That sorta silent gasping.

Uh oh.

Then Ashlee says, "Mom! Aaron's bleeding."

That could have been the understatement of the day. Or week. Or whole year.

I descend the stairs to find Ashlee escorting a bleeding, sobbing Aaron. His whole chin is blood. So much blood I can't tell where the bleeding is coming from.

I scoop him up and rush him to the sink. Blood is still pouring, literally, from his mouth. "Lucas, what happened? Tell me what happened!"

"Well, we were playing monkey and Aaron's mouth bonked my head," Lucas says sadly.

Mercy. So much blood. He's lost a tooth I bet. LOST A TOOTH.

Wipe, rise, wipe, rinse.

By now Aaron's pretty much stopped crying. I've soaked most of the blood out of his mouth and I finally find the source. It's not a lost tooth, instead it's a sizable gash on the inside of his upper lip.

He needs a stitch. I'm convinced.

Call the peds. 6:30pm appointment. Luke's meeting me there to switch off the other kids.

"Oh, and who's the doctor we'll be seeing?" I ask the receptionist as I begin looking for shoes for everyone.

"Dr. R." she states.

LOVELY.

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(PS: No stitches were needed.)

(PSS: 100 points to anyone who can name the source of the title for this post.)

Therefore let those who suffer according to God's will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.

- 1 Peter 4:19

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The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.

- Proverbs 16:9

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But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

- 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

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Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

-Romans 12:9-21

He binds me up and gives me strength

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

The sound of a tiny heart beat filled the room and it's rhythm flickered on the screen. My own heart pounded harder. I glanced over at Luke's face as he studied the black and white ambiguity on the screen in front of us.

Us. Parents. Soon. Week before, I'd cried that deep, painful hurt of tears onto Luke's chest as he stood, holding me, rubbing my arms and assuring me that I was going to be a great Mother.

About 2 years later, the same room, and another surprise.

"Well," the doctor starts, "I think I know why you've not been feeling very well."

I stare at the back of the ultrasound monitor, which the doctor has turned away from us just in case, as if me looking at the back of the screen hard enough will give me a glimpse of the other side.

The doctor flips the screen around so we can join him in his newest revelation, "Here's Baby A and here's Baby B. Let's see (scans around)....nope, just two."

Just two?

I taste vomit in the back of my throat and tears burn my eyes. Again, I look at my husband who is again standing by my side, grasping my hand. His face shows joy, exhilaration actually, and a stupid goofy grin that I'd have slapped off his face if at that moment he hadn't caught my eye and realized that I was about to lose it.

The doctor steps out for me to get dressed and I collapse onto his chest with great, heaving sobs. There's no way I can mother all these kids. Elizabeth is barely 15 months old. What is God thinking? (Oh how the Lord has a sense of humor!)

Just over two years later and once more I bury my face into my husband's chest as Aaron's birthparents cancel another visit and the pain of it is more than I can withstand. Why do they not care? He's a baby, how can they not want to see him?

6 months later, Luke and I cling to one another outside the courthouse, sobbing onto one another, taking in the tragedies of what we've just heard about our youngest child.

The road to our first 5 children were filled, seemingly, with me clinging to my husband and my God, often crying out with sob filled questions. I don't often understand the ways of God when they seem to contradict every fiber of my being. But when I look back at the road to us birthing and adopting our first 5 children, I can clearly see that I wasn't suppose to understand God during those trying seasons. Yet He continued to be faithful, even in my heartache

When I didn't think I was ready to become a mother, God knew I was.

When I didn't think I could be a mother to 3 children ages 2 and under, God knew I could.

When I didn't understand how someone could abandon their baby, God knew I could love him.

When I couldn't comprehend all my sweet girl had been through even before her first breath, God had protected her.

Psalm 147:3-5 speaks to each of these instances when it says,

He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars;
he gives to all of them their names.
Great is our Lord, and abundant in power;
his understanding is beyond measure.

I don't think it's a mistake that these verses are clumped together. He binds up our brokenheartedness, all the while knowing all the stars in the skies - seeing as how He's named them each - and His understanding is beyond our ability to measure. He is in the details and in the majestic. He's in my day to day yet holds the universe in order.

Lately I feel as if life is again spinning out of control in many areas. Some aspects of our life seem to be moving at a pace much faster than I feel prepared for. I've clung to Luke so much during this season, looking to him for assurance, guidance and protection. Though the tears have been few, the emotions have been the same as the road to our first 5 children. As we look to God together at the months that lay ahead of us, we know that the one who set the universe in motion, who created more than we can comprehend, cares about the details of our lives. In fact, He promises to bind up my broken heart, give strength to the weak and as we walk through waters of uncertainty, He promises we will not drown.

Tonight, I sit in the assurance that He is who He says He is and He will do what He says He will do. Tonight, I rest in the comfort of Him and allow my soul to weep when my eyes cannot.

Das Not Funny! Friday: It is was my birthday

Today is my birthday. Well, technically I'm writing this on Saturday but you know what, I've never really given a crap about technicalities.

In fact, I'm going to say that technically, I'm still in my late twenties. Except for a pesky few years.

Technically.

Anyway, it's been a week full of busyness around here (thus the lack of posting all week) but it's been a good busy. If you like lots of diapers and kids and a general lack of organization.

So, today (er...yesterday technically) is/was my birthday.

Woop.

Unfortunately, I think I got a mild case of food poisoning from my birthday dinner out on Thursday night. Either that or Memaw forgot to take her geritol and the spinach/pine nut/caper/peppered pizza (gravy it was GOOD) made me gassy and my stomach queasy all day long.

See? I am a Memaw. There I go talking about my bowel habits. Mercy. If I excuse myself to the kitchen to "clean up" so that I can secretly pass gas then I'll change my name to Gertrude and call it a day.

Mercy.

Anyway, earlier today after I finally, FINALLY, got Ella to sleep and convinced her that she's only 6.5 months old and despite her own "I'm going to stay awake all day like I'm 6 years instead of 6 months" thinking she still needs to take a nap, preferably two a day, I laid down myself just in time for Lucas and Ashlee to get up.

Gotta love that timing. Normally those 2 don't take naps but seeing as how they both woke up earlier that normal and they were both beginning to have meltdowns over who's Chick-fil-a cow was whose (even though we have 6 that are IDENTICAL) I figured naps were in order today.

And I wasn't feeling well. Did I mention the stomach churning and the gas? (Hello, may name is Gertrude.)

I'm getting somewhere, I promise.

So seeing as how I felt like not moving so the rolling in my stomach would somehow subside, I did what any good Mother would do and I put the oldest 3 in front of the TV with a bin (yes a BIN) of Goldfish and went to sleep.

Except.

OHMYWORDSTOPWIGGLING.

WORM IN HOT ASHES.

How can you make the whole bed shake and you are sitting on the floor? So finally, I sit up (mind you my hair has mostly worked it's way out of a ponytail, I'm flushed and GASSY) and I say,

"Please guys. Just sit and watch TV and eat your snack! Mommy doesn't feel well."

To which Elizabeth responds with,

"Are you pregnant?"

Oh mercy. That kid.

(And no. I'm not.)

The Queen turns 2

It happened.

Somewhere between summer ending and school starting and life whirling around me, my sweet little girl grew into a 2 year old. Because of her bigger brother's 4 month head start, I often forget that they aren't really twins and that she is 4 short months younger than he. And at the tender age from 20 months - 24 months those 4 months are probably more obvious than they've ever been.

She's still in that odd baby-to-toddler age where she's still too little to do toddler stuff, yet to big to do baby stuff. She can't communicate totally what she wants and life is often frustrating. Especially when Mommy doesn't understand that you really just want another cup of milk.

Still too little to really dress yourself, yet desiring to put on your clothes all by yourself. Or stand on your head. Whichever feels best at the moment.

Yet this past weekend it happened. The Queen reigned for a day and received songs and parties and the sole attention. I know that I've said that 2 isn't exactly my favorite age. Still, I would do anything to pause her sweet little self at this age for just a few more months so that in my old age I could remember so much more of all the things she's growing out of. Two years ago today my sweet girl laid in the hospital alone, without me even knowing she existed. How it breaks my hear to think about her sweet, tiny little self being there with out me. How I pray she allows God to use her story for His glory alone.

My sweetest Olivia,

Two years ago everyone (including us) thought we were crazy for bringing you into our family. Little did they, or we, know just how much of a blessing you would continue to be in our lives. You proved to be our most particular baby. Not necessarily fussy, you just certainly had your preferences! At two, you remain the same. You love being the center of our family's attention and you get especially pleased with yourself when you make all of us burst into laughter, which happens frequently.

We've kept your hair short because of it not growing in evenly, but now it's beginning to get thicker and fuller and I just can't wait to try some fun hair styles out with your curly, black locks. The eczema that once showed up in several painful patches on your arms and legs is completely gone. Your smooth, creamy, brown skin is the softest thing I've ever felt and I love putting on your lotion. And you are loving being old enough now to "help" me.

Your pint sized frame houses more volume that I understand to be possible. How someone so tiny can make such noise is beyond me. You love, love, love to sing and dance. In fact, most of the time that you are awake you are singing or talking or dancing or all three at the same time. You've been known to stop dead in your tracks and bust out some serious dancing when you hear a rhythm that moves you.

You make my heart fill with joy over and over again. You offer me so many hugs and squeezes throughout the day. It is not uncommon for you to seek me out, where ever in the house that I happen to be and give my knees a good, hard squeeze. I love it so much that each time my heart feels as if it will burst.

You love babies. Especially your little sister. You've watched and felt your older sisters doting over you and now you like to lavish that same love upon Ella, whether she likes it or not. One of my favorite memories of you is when you were just a little over a year old and we went to visit family and friends. As your "Aunt Amanda" held up her littlest one (with whom you share a birthday), who at the time was still very brand new, you leaned in and kissed and squeezed on her, showering her with the love that only a 14 month old could show. Your heart must hold joy and love in such quantities that I'll never understand. You are my miracle, sweet girl.

Happiness exudes from you constantly. You are the life of the party. Yet you are growing increasingly shy and cautious in new environments. If I had to describe you in one word, it would certainly be silly.

My sweet, silly girl. I love everything about you. Squishy face and all.

Happy Birthday my precious princess! Mommy loves you!

I won't play along

I really shouldn't even be making time to post this today, but since about 2 days ago it's been on my mind and every time I get on Facebook it flies all over me again.

I try not to make it public (blog) knowledge that I have a facebook account. Mainly because I don't want creepers trying to find out information that I don't want the general public to know by stalking me on FB. But, I just don't think I can sit in silence about this anymore. Maybe some of you will call me rigid or stupid or a religious "holier than thou" church lady.

Frankly, I don't care.

Last year, apparently for October being Breast Cancer Awareness month, I got several messages in my FB inbox asking me to post the color of my bra as my status. I wasn't suppose to say it was the color of my bra, but rather just say the color.

I chose to opt out of that little FB game since my purpose of having FB is to keep in contact with friends and to share about my family, not to air my dirty laundry. Literally.

But this year's "game" I cannot choose to just ignore, especially given that last year I saw several men posting their reactions to the bra game after they realized what was going on.

This year's Breast Cancer Awareness game, again for women only (because the point in these games is to keep men in the dark and make them wonder), is to state where you keep your purse/pocketbook. Except you don't just state the location you also say, "I like it..." in front of the said location. So, now statuses are popping up everywhere such as, "I like it on the table" or "I like it in the closet" or "I like it on my dresser."

I cannot see how as women, who are followers of Jesus, we can simply add this to our status without a second thought. Colossians 3 clearly says that we are to set our minds on things that are above not on things that are on Earth. How can we, as Jesus following women, post such things for men to see, to entice them even, and believe that we are setting our own minds, or even encouraging our fellow men, to focus on what is above?

I know my husband is extremely visual. The protection of our marriage through him focusing his eyes, ears and mind on things that edify our marriage is one of his priorities. Men think about sex, far more than we women do (well, most of us). All men are visual. I'd take a guess that most men who are lovers of Jesus struggle with lust, pornography and other sexual addictions at some point in their life.

Why o why would we women of faith choose to tempt our brothers and fellow believers with such talk?

I just can't justify it. I know, for certain, that I'd not like my husband reading the status' of my friends and where' they'd "like it." So why would I do the same for another woman's husband or fiance or brother who's marriage may already be in jeopardy over such things?

I won't. And I hope that you'll reconsider this yourself as well when you receive offers to play this "game." Truly, meddling in the mind of a married man is not a game I choose to be a participant of.

Unless it's my own man. Then, game on. ;)

Finally, I'd really like for someone to explain to me how this raises awareness for Breast Cancer. I'm ALL FOR finding a cure for one of the leading killers of women but I just fail to see the connection here. Anyone care to enlighten me?

I walk the line

As Elizabeth is seemingly growing up right in front of my eyes, day by day, minute by minute. I'm finding it harder and harder to determine where to draw my line in the proverbial sand. My greatest desire is that she would grow to be a woman who loves the Lord with all her heart, soul, mind and strength. But until she is grown, I know that it is our job, as her parents, to guide and direct her, keeping her under our wing until the proper time.

Lately, my biggest struggle is knowing there are certain aspects of her life where she is ready for me to let go and not be involved in every detail. This firstborn baby of mine can tie her shoes, bathe herself, pick out her own outfits and no longer needs me to help her explain to others what she's trying to say. She is developing friendships that are outside of mine and Luke's circle of friends. Before, all of her friends were the children of our friends. But now, she's established friendships with other kids in her Sunday School class, great kids, but we aren't necessarily great friends with their family.

It's fine line that I'm finding myself walking. The line of knowing when she's big enough to do things I've always done for her and the line of realizing that she's still so little in so many ways. And the part that I think overwhelms me the most about this line I'm walking is knowing this is only the beginning.

My heart both rejoices and grieves these new milestones. I soar with pride as I watch my oldest daughter help a younger sibling just because she wants to. I love watching her tote Olivia around on her hip and "mother" Ella when she casually passes her by. My heart wants to burst when I hear of her making good choices even when we are not around. I take pride in the young girl that she is when I see her encourage a friend on the soccer field. I delight in her heart for the Lord when she shares, without hesitation, just what Jesus means to her. And I'm overwhelmed with the lady she's growing into when she comes to me and takes ownership of a mistake she's made.

Yet I grieve the loss of knowing that with each new step she needs me less and less. She's moving from small child into a big kid with her own thoughts, hobbies, relationships and desires that are separate from mine. She requires less and less of me for her physical needs and our role is shifting into an area where my focus for her is more on her spiritual and mental development rather than just feeding her, redirecting her and making sure she's clean.

And even though I'm thrilled with this new role I find myself in, where I'm less responsible for doing things for her in the day to day, my heart continues to throb over the loss of the days that I know are already gone and the ways that she will never need me to help her again. From here forward it's a dance I will have to learn as I go, knowing when to step in and instruct and when to let her learn for herself, sometimes even watching her fall.

I'm realizing more than ever just what a blessing it is to parent a child who does not rely on you for their every, single physical need. It's a bittersweet moment of holding on and letting go. Yes, I know 6 years old is young and she will still need me for many more years. But I'm getting a sampling of what's to come. A taste of what it looks likes to be a mother to someone who is their own person and no longer just and extension of yourself. I love watching her do things at her own pace, in her own style and with her own processes. I get the hugest thrill out of seeing her create something from her very own mind.

But I'm still learning to walk the line between her being totally dependent on me and allowing her to go and do without me being her security. It's a fine line I'm finding myself walking and I'm so blessed that God has given me this sweet gift. Because truly there's no other line I'd rather walk.

Das Not Funny! Friday: And another one wipes the butt

I know it's been a while but nothing kicks off the weekend like a laugh, huh? So welcome to this week's edition of Das Not Funny! Friday. Not sure what Das Not Funny! Friday is all about? Well click here to find out. I've made a few changes since that first post, mainly just eliminating the Linky. So, if you'd like to write you own post just leave the link to your blog in the comments section so we all can laugh at you with you.

I should have tons and tons since it's been a sweet forever since I've blogged about our funnies but I've been horrible at writing them down so here is the one I remember (only because I texted it to myself).

Last weekend we went to visit our friend Kevin at his college. As Kevin gave us a quick tour of his campus Ashlee decided it would be a good idea to mark her territory. We scurried into the nearest bathroom and since the bathroom was completely empty and there was not another person in the building we were in, I instructed her to go, wipe, wash and then come out of the bathroom where I'd be waiting for her. Wiping is a new skill for her, you see. We have two 4 year olds and I'm now down to only wiping 50% of our resident 4 year old butts. Ashlee is a self wiper these days so you can guess who is lazy in the self cleaning area.

Actually, I could just clap my hands because out of the 8 butts in our house, I'm down to only being responsible for wiping 5 of them. It's a milestone really. Seriously, there was a time when I was responsible for 7 of the 8 of the butts in our house. That's overwhelming on so many levels, folks.

Sorry for the over load of wiping details but I mean really people, I have 6 kids 6 years and younger. Don't read my blog if you don't expect some details about poop and it's related issues.

ANYWAY, after a few minutes I hear her yell from the bathroom stall, "I'M ALL DOOOOOONE!!!"

I poke my head in the bathroom and say, "Ok. Well, wipe."

"I can't," Ashlee retorts.

"Why not?" I ask, less than enthused.

"Because. I gots to know how many poo poos there are so you can wipe them."

"Excuse me?" I question.

So I guess she thinks maybe speaking more slowly will help me comprehend, "I...said...I...gots...to....know...how...many...poop....there...are....so you can wipe them."

Obviously the slower speech did not help. "What? Why can't you just wipe yourself Ash?" I ask, bouncing Ella on one hip and less then thrilled that Ashlee is taking SOFRIGGIN'LONG in the bathroom.

"Mom! I don't know how many poops there are so I can't wipe good!" she exclaims, almost as weary as I am from all the not understanding.

"Um. Okay. Can I just hand you the toilet paper then?" I question.

"Yep, and I'll count."

I rip a few squares off, hand them to my toilet perching daughter and she says, "One...." a few more squares..."Two...." a few more squares..."Three...." a few more squares...."Four...." a few more squares..."Five...okay, just one more I think..." a few more squares..."Six! That's how many!"

"Um. So Ash, do you count how many poops there are and then wipe that many times?" I ask, stifling a chuckle.

"YES! And there were just too many poops to count this time so I couldn't do it by myself," she says cheerfully, clearly relieved I finally get it.

"Oh. Good to know," I laugh.

We wash, wipe and exit with Ashlee skipping away joyfully and me amazed at how differently God created each of my babies.

Now, if Lucas could just get a handle on counting maybe this wiping issue would resolve itself.

Ella Joy at 6 months

Half a year. Wow. Time has flown with this little princess. I can hardly believe she's already 6 months old. I still maintain that she's the sweetest, easiest baby I've ever met.

Even when she's cutting teeth. All (almost) 8 of them. What's that? You didn't know that 6 month old babies could have nearly 8 teeth? Yeah, ME NEITHER. But, she's sporting 4 all-the-way-in teeth on bottom and 4 more are pushing their way through on top.

When I posted with her 5 month pictures, I said that I was planning on waiting until she was 6 months old before giving her any solids. Well, what can I say, I caved. Which is fine because she was days older than 5 months when I started offering her baby cereal, which is well beyond the recommended 4 month mark.

As much lip smacking and head turning as she was doing at my food, I was sure she'd LOVE the cereal. Plus, PLEASESWEETJESUS eat something solid so MOMMACANSLEEPALLNIGHT.

So Grace held her, Luke snapped photos and I eagerly spooned baby cereal into her mouth.

Her reaction was less that what I had hoped for.


"Grace! Have you tasted this crap they're feeding me? Blech."

But keeping with her good-natured self, she continued to humor me bite after bite.

I especially love this next photo. Our laptop is set up so that the screen saver is all of our photos on a looping slide show. They circulate at random showing photos as old as Elizabeth's birth photos to ones I've just loaded that day. I love that the next photo shows our oldest girl getting her first bites of cereal at the same time our littlest girl is getting hers. Awesome, huh?

After Ella realized that I wasn't backing off on the spooning of yuck into her mouth, she began looking at me like this...

Then grabbing my hand as if to say, "Whoa lady. Seriously? Where's the milk?"

Finally I realized she'd had enough.

I haven't been as consistent with offering her solids as I should but she's now sampled bananas, applesauce, which made her gag, and just last night she had carrots for the first time.

Sweet Ella Joy has begun babbling "baa baa baa" and is rolling to get to whichever objects are out of her reach because clearly Momma doesn't know which toys are the best thankyouverymuch.

She's sitting up for extended periods of time but will still flop over after a bit, landing on her face or cheek then rolling over and offering up a huge grin as if to say, "Man, I'm so proud of myself. Did you see that dismount?"

She's still waking up 1 to 2 times a night, usually just to nurse for comfort, and is finally, FINALLY sleeping unswaddled. This is big people. Truth is, she's too chubby for any of the swaddle blankets I have so we had no choice but to unswaddle her.

And, she still melts my heart with each of her huge, toothy grins and makes me fill with joy with every single belly laugh. I love her more than is explainable.

Beach Bunny Bizzy

So, the final installment of our beach vaca is of my biggest girl. Mercy she's growing up so fast. Six years old. I still can't believe it. SIX. Who told her she could get so big?

She loved all things pertaining to life at the beach. Fanatic about the fish shaped pillow on her bed, smitten with the sand, overjoyed at the ocean. All of it. She loved every second.

Playing so sweetly with her littler brothers and sisters and obliging them with just about any game they wanted to play.

Yet also taking some time to play by herself and enjoying the option of running a toy through the sand as far as she desired.

Oh how she's beginning to teeter on the border of still little enough to play baby games and wavering into wanting to do "big kid" things. She humored me and allowed me to turn her into a mermaid.


And after a round of family beach photos, she was an easy option for a model.

That smile and her sweet laugh just melt me every time. And, even though I'm still very much her Mom/Disciplinarian most days, I'm getting a sweet taste of what, I pray, will be a treasured friendship between us when she becomes a woman.

I am so blessed to be able to walk along side her as God grows her into a woman who will do work for His glory. I can't wait to see what God has planned for my sweet, eldest daughter. Her heart already exudes so much of His love and is so tender toward so many things.

Um. You know, will still a splash or two of Sassy thrown in for good measure. ;)

Coincidence Providence

There are some people who believe that life happens at random, that occurrences are left up to the universe and that karma deals you back what you've dealt out.

Some people believe in coincidences. Do you know that dictionary.com defines a coincidence as "a striking occurrence of two or more events at one time apparently by mere chance"?

Mere chance?

The idea that events just occur by mere chance with no forethought or planning by anyone or anything and that they just-so-happen by mere chance is possible I'd guess. But that's not the lens I choose to view life through. Nor do I believe it is truth.

Because if that were the case and it were just a coincidence, or mere chance, that my husband got home earlier than usual today...

When I accidentally turned on the wrong stovetop burner....

And instead of turning on the burner with the large pot for which I'd prepared to steam carrots for Ella's babyfood...

I, instead, turned on the burner with an empty glass dish I'd set on top...

Which proceeded to heat up then burst all over the kitchen...

Sending shards of glass the size of knives...

And others the size of splinters onto the furthest reaches of my small kitchen.

Melting anything within it's reach and causing me to have to trash my favorite pair of flip flops and our cheap rug that was by the kitchen sink.

And yet, my sweet Ashlee who was standing almost directly in front of the glass dish when it suddenly exploded remained unharmed, with not even a small scratch upon her sweet, pale skin. And I, barefoot in the kitchen, standing just inches further away than Ashlee, only received two small scratches on the top of my foot and a burn from hot glass on the bottom of each arch as I stepped forward to retrieve my screaming, fearful little girl.

No, for me, it's not coincidence that, not only, did Ashlee remain completely unharmed but that Luke was home early so that 4 of the other children who are normally by my side (and under my feet) begging to help or to taste, were playing safely outside with their Dad.

For me, that's providential, not coincidental. Because if I'm leaving the safety and protection of my children up to mere chance, I'd be willing to bet that more times than not, mere chance would fail me.

He never will.

Because if it were up to coincidence, I'd most likely be writing to you tonight from our local hospital, telling you about the shards of glass being removed from the skin of my kids and the burns being treated from where the glass had melted their skin, much like it did my linoleum floor.

However, I write this to you from the comfort of my couch, with the bodies of my unscathed children resting soundly in their beds. Sleeping the sleep that unharmed children sleep and without the tick of monitors or the pain of bandages and burns.

So rather than chalk this one up to coincidence, I'm going to mark this one down as something other than mere chance, and give glory to the One who knows of the protection we need, often before imminent danger ever even befalls us. Glory be to the one who is our faithful shield and buckler.

He will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
~ Psalm 91:4