Six, Six

Six years ago today my whole world changed. And isn't that just like kids? They mess you up, don't they? These little people squeeze their way into our lives (literally) and we are forever changed.

But twins.... ah. They're something different all together. When we found out we were having twins, I sobbed. NOT out of joy, either. Stupid, I know.

Each day I have with these two I am reminded how much I am totally dependent on the Lord. Not for the physical strength (although, that too!) but for the emotional, spiritual and mental strength it takes to lead their hearts to the Throne of Grace.

Two times the challenges but an infinite amount of blessings.





It's hard for me to imagine either of these two not being a twin. They annoy the snot out of each other one minute, then they're best buddys the next. I think the concept of being a twin is lost on anyone who is not a twin. In fact, I'm sure of it.
Sometimes, Elizabeth and I just look at them and shake our heads. We just don't get the twin thing, I'm afraid. Oh but these two do.
Lucas loves his sister with ferocity. Ashlee adores her brother with a love/hate affection reserved only for him. And can they ever make each other laugh.

It cracks me up to sit back and listen to them interact. Lucas acts so cool, calm and collected. Ashlee is the forever goofball. Like in the picture below. My instruction was, "Stand beside each other and just hold hands. Now, look at me."

I had released the shutter on my camera several times before I realized exactly what was going on.

Being totally cool, calm and collected, Lucas was squeezing the crap out of his sisters hand. All the while maintaining a nice, normal stance just like I instructed. Ashlee, however... not so much. Giggles abounded as I asked them to love each other, just for a second please.

Silly faces and wrestling matches began.

And I realized my efforts for a nice, normal picture of the two of them were futile. But then again, I guess that this is their normal.

My Ashlee girl is silly, affectionate, a math whiz, eager to please, slow to anger, quick to forgive and totally and 100% in love with her siblings, especially her baby sisters. It doesn't take much to work a giggle out of her.

Lean and lanky she's well into a size 6x in length but is often found wearing her younger sisters' 2T/3T clothes. I mean, after all, "They fit just fine Mom!" Scrawny little thing, she is. She's the fastest runner in the house and maintains the title of best cuddler. She's easily entertained and swings on a quick pendulum of enjoying time alone and being the family clown. She's the family peace maker. And I adore how she loves other people.

Lucas is 1,000% boy. His newest obsession? STAR WARS. He's training to be a Jedi and trying to use the force to overcome the evils of the Dark Side. Or, to distract his sisters from their Polly Pockets. Either one.

Notice how Ashlee is not even phased at the louder than life yelling in her ear. Somethings you just get used to, I guess.

He's a risk taker, determined to test the limits of his body and my good sense. But he's also quick to shower on compliments and even faster to tell you he loves you. Which melts my heart each and every time.

He eats more than I could ever think possible, which makes me even more glad that we're moving to the land of rice and beans. Rice swells and beans are cheap. Both will be necessary to fill up this bottomless pit of a boy, I'm sure.

He's already missing 2 teeth, one of which he ripped from his head a mere 2 days ago. I'm not even sure it was wiggly for more than 2 hours. The threshold he has for pain is remarkable.

Words cannot express how much I love these two people. I've heard people say that bad things come in sets of 3's. I don't know about the truth in that but I can assure you that one of the best gifts I've ever received came in twos.

A six year old princess.

A six year old warrior.

A batch of silliness,

mixed with courage and valor.

I'm quite sure that these two couldn't have come any other way, than in a double dose.

Thank you God for this blessing of six and six. Six glorious years that went by in the blink of an eye. Six, six. Unique. Special. Doubled.

Happy Birthday Lucas!

Happy Birthday Ashlee!

Click here to see their 5th, 4th, 3rd and 2nd birthday posts.

Carolina, Callie and the Stink Eye

I'd like you to meet my daughters, Carolina and Callie.

Originally Olivia was Callie but then she changed her name to Carolina so Ella took up Callie where Carolina left off.

Confused yet? Welcome to my world.

Callie has always been a popular name in our house. I'm not sure why because we only know one person named Callie and our kids are hardly ever around her.

When Elizabeth was about Ella's age (2 years) she had several baby dolls all named Callie. One baby had pants that wouldn't come off so she was "Callie Pants." She had another that had a blue dress so she was "Callie Blue."

You get the idea.

My favorite things about the video below:

1) When I confirm that Ella's new name is Callie and she says, "What?" Like I was calling her name.

2) The Stink Eye

3) The fact that Olivia really responds to the name Carolina. And without hesitation. I sometimes think that I'll call her Carolina and catch her off guard and she won't respond. That's not happened yet and this has been going on for several months.

These kids crack me up, that's for sure.

When I was in elementary school I desperately wanted my name to be Lee Ann. I guess they come by it honest then, huh?

Have you or your kids ever gone by another name?

Objects not obstacles: A mothering confession

In the early hours of Monday morning, my husband returned from a four day trip to Colorado. At which point I droggily blew my stinky morning breath in his face, kissed him somewhere in the vicinity of his lips and then slumped back into my pillow, grateful to have my husband - and subsequently - my normal life back.

He left supremely early Thursday morning to catch at 6am flight. So, with the wonderful help of grandmas, I was a single parent for 4 entire days. It's not a job I'd like to apply for anytime soon.

Typically, when my husband gets an extended break and I do not, I have duel emotions. While I'm thrilled that he's getting some time to recharge, somewhere in the recesses of my selfish heart I face each day with a countdown mentality. Only 92 more hours and then he's back, sort of thing.

But somewhere around Friday morning, amid the chaos and the noise of all of these blessings, I felt myself having a supernatural amount of patience. I'm sure we've all had spurts of that at some point but for me anyway, it has never lasted more than a few hours and then I bottom out like a ship in shallow water at low tide. I ride the waves of selfishness until, finally, I blow up at the kids over something trivial like opening a box of crackers or refilling a sippy cup.

But not this past weekend. Granted, I had much help from my Mom and Grandmother, but even still I felt different. I felt peaceful, patient, kind and even, dare I say, joyful to have all seven kids all by myself.

Trust me when I say that this is not the norm for me, y'all. Sure, I enjoy my kids immensely. I love being home with them all day and schooling them. I love their quirks, the funny things they say and how they give and receive hugs and kisses freely.

But by 5:30pm, I'm ready for my husband to walk through the door.

On Sunday morning, I cheerfully arose early and got all seven kids dressed, fed, hair combed, snacks packed and loaded into the van. Alone. And we got to church early y'all.

Last Sunday is proof that the Lord still works miracles people. Not because we were early for church, per se, but more because I didn't lose my mind (or my religion) before we got there. Sometime on Sunday evening, I sat in bewilderment at how and why I'd had so much patience, joy and cheerfulness over a long four days of what could have been stressful, annoying and down right ugly.

I felt the Lord press on me a truth that nearly knocked me over.

You see your children as an obstacle to your mothering.

Um, excuse me God? What?! How can my kids be an obstacle to my mothering? They're the reason I'm a mother!

He whispered in my soul...

Really? So the frustration at spilled drinks, messes, bottoms to wipe, loud chatter, you don't see those as an obstacle? I think you do.


Yeah. I guess I do. The truth is, instead of expecting my children to be, well, children I expected them to be less hassle. I had this expectation in my mind of what I should look like a mother, what our children should look like and how our days should flow seamlessly and when reality didn't meet my expectations, I lost control.

Yelling, frustration, angry words, unkind redirection, quick to anger, slow to show mercy...that pretty much sums up my mothering over the last several months.

I was seeing our children as an obstacle to my mothering instead of the objects of my motherly love.

The same was true for homeschooling. We use Sonlight curriculum which involves lots of reading on my part, as the teacher. As I would read or teach, the children were constantly stopping me asking questions, making comments and just generally being inquisitive. It frustrated me beyond what it should.

I slowly began to realize that we homeschool so that our children can interrupt the lesson and ask questions and their education can take on a personal form that allows for their interests to be explored.

I was viewing my own children as an obstacle to my homeschooling instead of the object of my teaching.

Then, on Sunday evening I got the heartbreaking news of a dear friend losing her unborn son. As my heart cried out to God on her behalf, I realized even more how much I should be treasuring these children God has given me rather than viewing them as distractions and obstacles.

Truly, my mind has been so focused on accomplishing tasks, getting our schooling done and all the things that come with motherhood that I lost sight of what is really important. Having a large family means that lots of things must work in a specific way for laundry, meals and everyday life to run smoothly. But those specifics should never be exchanged for discipling my kids, in every moment showing love, mercy, compassion and a genuine interest in things they are interested in.

I need to cherish my children and all of the frustrations that come with them.

Are there going to be days ahead where I lose it, get frustrated and make mistakes? Of course. Should I have expectations of my children and set boundaries? Without a doubt! But I was focusing on the tasks and not the people, which should never be the case.

Before I know it, these treasures of mine will be grown and graduating college and moving out to accomplish the lives and tasks the Lord has set before them. And I will have the joy of watching them from the sidelines as they do wonderful things for the glory of God. Until then, teaching them to love each other, love the Lord, serve Him faithfully, cheerfully and obediently is my goal. I pray that I never again see them as obstacles to my goal but rather, the objects of it.

Better late than never

I know I'm nearly a month late, but this is our family picture from Easter this year. Ashlee's eyes are shut, Lucas is pouting and Aaron and Olivia have clearly been bribed with Easter candy.

But folks, this is reality for us. Crazy, busy, emotional and supremely blessed.

Y'all have a fantastic Friday!

Easter 2012

On being a sender

I've told myself that even short blog posts are worthy of this space. That's true, right?

With that said....

I recognize that not everyone is called to go to a foreign country and be a missionary. Some people cannot because of health reasons. Some can't because of family responsibilities. Some cannot because of situations beyond their control. Some cannot because they are scared to tears of flying.

The point is, not everyone can physically go. But the truth is, everyone can go in some capacity. Romans 10:13-15 is scripture very close to my heart.


For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” (ESV, emphasis mine)

You see, we can all go in some capacity. Some of us go physically but the vast majority of people will not go full time. And that's okay. In fact, dare I say, that's how God designed it!

After all, Romans is clear, it takes each step, each person, each team member to get the gospel into all the nations, to the very ends of the Earth.

Some are sent. Some are senders. My dear friends, it is no more important to be one that is sent than it is to be a sender. The truth is, the sent can't go without the senders.

As I sat here tonight figuring up what our monthly and outgoing support needs are, I realized something.

I have around 830 facebook friends. If HALF of the people I'm friends with on facbook committed to partnering with us in the amount equivalent to ONE FAMILY MEAL of fast food per MONTH we'd go from being at 18% to 100% of our monthly support goal!

ONE family meal out per MONTH. One.

And I'm not talking Chick-fil-a. I'm talking McDonald's. For the cost of about 3 value meals per month, pledged by about 400 people we'd be fully funded. Take that down to 200 people and it's becomes the cost of a mediocre sit down meal for your family (or still fast food for a family the size of ours!).

I've heard people say several times, "Oh, we could only give just a tiny bit per month. Not even enough to make a difference."

Can I challenge you on that?

I promise you, every amount makes a difference to the people in Kenya who have NEVER heard the name of Jesus Christ.

Won't you go with us? Even if not in the flesh, will you live out Romans 10:13-15 and be the sender? We'll never get there without you.

If you'd like to go with us, you can start by clicking here.

Busy, Blessed, Active ...Did I mention busy?

My blog has been so silent lately but that's not because my life is that way! Things are busy, busy around here and it doesn't look like a slower pace is anywhere on the horizon.

Luke and I are staying busy with normal work and parenting duties plus we're diligently working on our Bible Training Requirement for Africa Inland Mission. We're also working on filling out all the paperwork that goes along with moving your family of NINE to another country in approximately 8 months. (Yikes!) Tonight, I snapped this picture of Abigail so that we can go apply for her passport soon.

It cracks me up that she'll be four when we come back and yet her passport photo will still look like this. So funny.

Lucas and Ashlee are talking nearly non-stop about their birthday that is in 29 days (but who's counting?), Elizabeth is reading everything she can get her hands on, Aaron is moving from little kid to big kid, ditching naps for good now, staying dry all night long and actually being able to make some jokes. Olivia is busy doing all the things that pesty little sisters do when they are 3.5 years old and at the same time doing all the things amazing big sister helpers do when they're 3.5 years old. Ella is peeing in the potty and wearing undies exclusively during the day (oh YES SHE IS!) and Abigail is busy sleeping and growing and giving her Momma amazingly long stretches of sleep at night (like 4.5 hours!). Did I leave anyone out?

I've been working on a more in depth post about what each of the kids are up to (and I started before Abigail was born) and I'm hoping to have that done soon.

For now, we're pressing ahead with school (only 6 more weeks!), living life at full throttle and soaking up all the smiles, coos and goodness that our sweet, littlest girl is newly offering.

Life is good. Life is busy. Life is sometimes stressful. Life is blessed, indeed.

How are things with you all? I miss reading your blogs! I've got lots to catch up on. Leave me a note and let me know how you are. :) Now, I'm off to bathe, feed and swaddle my littlest love. Ahhh...the smell of a freshly washed baby head. Nothing quite compares, does it?

Das Not Funny! Friday: The Wrestling Match

Welcome to a LONG overdue edition of Das Not Funny! Friday.

Das Not Funny! Friday is where I share the funny things that our children have said and done. After all, if having 7 children ages 7 and younger isn't funny, I don't know what is!

Since it's been a sweet forever since I've posted a Das Not Funny! Friday, some of these will be from a while back, but they still make me chuckle.

First of all, a while back I read a post about Why Having Toddlers Is Like Being At a Frat Party. Read it and I think you'll agree.

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The first few weeks of Abigail's life our amazing friends rallied around us and set up meals to be delivered (Do you know about takethemameal.com? If not you should it's awesome. And no, I didn't get paid to say that.) Anyway, one of our sweet friends came by and brought us dinner, complete with a container of chocolate chip cookies. Lucas saw them, raised both hands in the air and said,

"Thou shall NOT covet!"

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The awesome thing about having a new baby when you have older children is their desire to help. Elizabeth is probably the most consistent helper, offering to change diapers, grab a pacifier or help a younger sibling while I'm feeding. But every.single.time Abigail cries I have a barrage of helpers all ready to tell me the thing I usually already know.

"Mom! Abigail is crying!"

"Mom! Abigail is screaming!"

"Mom! You made Abigail cry!"

It's sorta funny when she's in the next room and borders on annoying and hysterical when I'm holding her, while she's fussing.

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Luke and I both have an iPod touch. We're both holding off on smart phones for as long as humanly possible. At any rate, our older children take a special delight in taking videos and pictures with our iPods. The results vary anywhere from humiliating (for Luke and I) to side splitting.






This is a small glimpse into our evenings at home. Except that the it's 4 less kids for this match because Lucas, Aaron, Olivia & Ella were already in bed.

Here's what I love:

1) Elizabeth's accent. What the heck? We don tawlk lie-yuk thay-ut here in tha Sow-uth.

2) Elizabeth promoting her new "Toe Nail Shop" which is located in her bedroom. Only $20 folks! It's awesome that all of her advertising is on the walls (hallways, kitchen, living room) of our house but she "doesn't charge family." Next time a stranger shows up at our house looking for a mani-pedi, I'll know where to direct them. Or not.

3) No wonder Luke is having to go through extensive treatment with a chiropractor.

4) "Here's where I come in!" Hysterical.

5) Ashlee's last effort at crazy just before the camera clicks off.

And that's just with 2 kids y'all. Just two. Imagine 4 more crazies in the mix.

Happy Friday y'all.

Long days, short years

I stumbled across the above video the other day. Actually, Luke stumbled upon it. And as I sat and watched it, I thought of a few things.

1) Why didn't I ask Elizabeth to put on some clothes before I began videoing?

2) Lucas' chubby baby fat is all gone. In its place is a scarred, bruised and constantly scabbed little boy.

3) Ashlee's temper is the SPITTING IMAGE of Ella's (and they look more alike than I thought!).

4) How have I so quickly forgotten this time in my children's lives?

Lucas's little voice falls on my ears as a voice I vaguely knew at some point in my life. I had totally forgotten that Ashlee had those whispy waves in her hair after bathtime. Now her hair is as straight as a board.

I remember the busyness of our home, the constant trips to the potty as the twins learned to use the toilet and how hilarious (and stressful) it was when all four kids had meltdowns at the same time.

I remember the chaos, the dirty house and I remember laughing a lot. But truly, I can't stop and picture in my mind Lucas and Ashlee as 2 year olds or Elizabeth as a 4 year old. It's almost impossible for me to remember Olivia at the age of 2 or Ella as a chubby 8 month old.

With guilt washing over me and tears stinging the back of my eyes, I realized something. Two years from now, I probably won't be able to picture each of the kids at the ages they are now.

My breath caught somewhere in my chest and it hit me. I'm so caught up in living life today, in getting through today, in teaching them today that I am not burning this time into my brain like I'll wish that I had.

For the last several months the twins have been asking when it will be their birthday. Several months before Abigail was born we kept saying, "Not until after the baby comes!" Well, now she's here and for a 5 year old, that must mean that their birthday is just around the corner, right? About mid-March they began asking more frequently, almost daily, and I continued to say, "You've still got 2 and a half months!"

They asked me again a few days ago, and this time the answer blew my mind. "45 days."

What? How can that be? In 45 days I will no longer have twin 5 year olds. What?

The thing is, I think as Moms we focus so much on just surviving that we forget that the days are flying by at warp speed. In 45 days my sweet babies will be SIX and I don't understand how that's possible because it was just a few months ago that Elizabeth turned six, right? Heh. Try two YEARS ago, nearly.

I know I've said this here before, but I'm going to say it again...a couple of years ago I was at a Homeschool convention and one of the speakers said something like this,

"When your children are young you are so busy. You are meeting their every need. But let me promise you something...the days are incredibly long, but the years are incredibly short."

Boy, was she ever right. Somehow, amid laundry and diaper changes and schooling and discipline and having babies, my big babies have turned into nearly six year olds. And in two years, I'll look back and hardly be able to remember them being five.

Which seem ridiculous to me right now because in my mind I think, "Psh. Trust me. I'll NEVER forget this stage. It's chaos and busy but every day is pretty much the same. Ella throws a fit and I laugh at her ridiculousness, Aaron shows me his fish lips - and then requests a kiss, Olivia has a meltdown and then is giggling 10 seconds later, Elizabeth is the biggest helper on the planet but can turn around and sass me like a teenager, Lucas lives on his bike and, in turn, lives covered in band-aids and Ashlee waivers between being an independent artist and wanting me to sit with her so she can read.

I'll always remember this season, right? Wrong.

In fact, just as the 3 kids in the video at the top of this post show me, all too soon I'll forget key things I thought would never leave my mind. Like Lucas' tiny sweet voice and the way he rubbed that kitty cat on his nose at bed and naptime or Ashlee's incredible temper tantrums and the way she used to look at me out of the top of her eyes and grin or Elizabeth's mouth when she used to say the word "Jesus" or "gentle" or "gymnastics."

I forget that in a few years I'll forget. I want, so desperately, to remember these precious treasures and their egocentricities and the little quirks that are the result.

I don't want to ever forget how Aaron asked for months upon end what happened to his tooth after it was pulled or how Ella excitedly told her Lamby (the lovey she sleeps with) how she was a big girl because she pooped in the potty. I don't want to forget that Elizabeth is going through a phase of wearing faux glasses that resemble Buddy Holly and that she's so darn cute in them I just giggle when I see her. I don't want to forget that Lucas is Star Wars crazed and all he talks about ever is Star Wars.

I don't want to forget that Ashlee's new favorite hobby is reading or the look on her face when she realized she could read all by herself, without my help. I don't want to forget that Aaron almost always asks everyone he meets, "Do you know about trains?"

I don't want to forget that Olivia wants, more than anything, to wear a pretty dress each and every day even if it's freezing outside and she'll need an ankle length coat over it. I don't want to forget that she hides her Harrietts (the lovies she sleeps with) under her pillow, but each night before bed she'll pull back the corner of her pillow and tell them goodnight.

Such precious things these children do but somehow, I know I will forget most of it. That is the biggest reason I blog. To remember. That is the biggest reason I take pictures. To remember.

And I pray that I will always remember to do both of those things as life continues to move at warp speeds. I want to always remember as much as I can. Because one day, I'll look back and wonder how it all happened so fast.

Now, I'm off to look at good (but inexpensive) digital video cameras online. Anyone have any good suggestions?

Break our hearts: Our April ministry newsletter

The song Hosanna is a favorite in our family. In fact, we considered naming Abigail "Hosanna" because we liked it so much. None the less, there's a line in the song that I (Jessica) often sing with half my heart filled with longing and half of my heart hesitant for the Lord to answer my request.

"Break my heart for what breaks yours..." The worship team belts out this line and I must confess that each time I wonder if I really want the Lord to break my heart for all the things that break His.

After all, can you imagine all the things that must grieve the heart of our Lord? I'm sure I can hardly imagine it. Yet, somehow, I do desire for my heart to be broken for the things that break His heart, even if it's just one at a time. And, in those requests, the Lord has answered. Pain and suffering are all around us. It's not hard to go through an average day and see a homeless person on the corner or hear of a tragedy in the news. But real heart break, things that drive you to action, we believe those heart breaks come from the Lord.

What breaks our heart? Many things actually, but at the top of the list is unreached people. What is an "unreached people"? Good question. According to JoshuaProject.net, an unreached or least-reached people group is a population of people with less than 5% professing Christian. To put that into perspective, according to JoshuaProject, 80% of the people groups in the United States are professing Christians. In Canada, that number is slightly higher at 84%. Joshua Project breaks down countries by people groups. The US has 365 total people groups. Canada has 247.

Remember, that for a people group to be considered unreached, less than 5% of that group will be professing Christians. In Kenya, East Africa there is a reported 117 people groups. 38 of them are totally unreached. Our family will be going to work, live among and share the Gospel with 2 of those 38.

So what about this breaks our hearts? Well, both Luke and I had the opportunity to visit Guinea-Bissau, West Africa in 2011. There, we experienced unreached people first hand. The image at the top of this newsletter shows a man with amulets on his necklace. The sweet little baby pictured above also has amulets around her neck. Amulets are tokens from Witch Doctors meant to ward off evil spirits and, for some, to bring good luck. For many African people groups, amulets are a part of every day life. But Christians know that true peace, joy and healing can only come from one person.

Jesus Christ.

Most of the African peoples practicing witchcraft have never heard the redeeming power of Jesus Christ. They've never had the chance or opportunity to hear about the One who can heal all hurts, not just the physical. That, my friends, is what breaks our hearts. We long for those who have never heard to hear the name of the Lord. We desire, desperately, for them to encounter the One who loves them, cherishes them and desires a personal relationship with them.

We are glad that God has not chosen to burden our hearts with every heartbreak He has. Yet we are honored He would reveal to us this specific heartbreak, one so dear to His heart. And it is because of this heart break that we are compelled to go, share and live among Kenya's unreached people.

Will you go with us? You can! Maybe not physically (though we'd love visitors once we get settled in!), you CAN go with us!

Right now we are raising up both PRAYER and FINANCIAL partners to GO with us to Kenya!

Want to partner with us and take the Good New of Jesus Christ to the unreached? You can, by emailing me at: beaverbunch (at) gmail (dot) com and putting "Missionary Support" in the subject line. I can email you a pledge card that you can complete and return.

Or you can click here for Online Giving.

We are so excited to see what the Lord is preparing for us in Kenya and we are honored you'd consider to GO with us!

Blessings,

Luke and Jessica Beaver
(Elizabeth, Lucas, Ashlee, Aaron, Olivia, Ella and Abigail, too!)

Support Needs

Financial Needs

Outgoing Support Needed:
$39,082
We are at 30%

Monthly Support Needed:
$7,999
We are at 12.5%

Prayer Needs

Praises!
* Abigail arrived safely and was EARLY! A first for Beaver babies!
* We are actively speaking with small groups and enjoyed a wonderful Sunday with Wellspring Community Church!
* We are continuing to receive people who are interested in partnering with us in prayer and financial support!

Requests
* For Luke and Jessica to organize their time so that Bible Requirements, Outbound Training and Paperwork can be completed efficiently
* For us to prepare the children, as much as possible, for the move to Kenya
* For God to raise up prayer and financial partners

Abigail at 1 month

Oh how I wish I'd have known about blogging when Elizabeth and the twins were babies! And how I wish I'd have been more intentional about blogging developments and milestones each month of Aaron and Olivia's infancy.

Nonetheless, with Ella, I posted about her every month. I knew if I didn't, I'd quickly forget all the little things that happen early on in her life. Abigail is no different. So, each month over the next year the plan is to post pictures and milestones of my sweet baby girl. Really, it's less about all of you and more about me being able to look back and actually remember something.

Besides, isn't she a living doll? I'm sure I'm a little partial. :)

At one month old, Abigail Mercy has started losing some of that beautiful, dark auburn hair and now sports the baby-classic style of "receding hair-line/old man hair." But she's still as cute as a button! Her scrawny limbs remind me so much of Ashlee at that age - heck, Ashlee now!

I'm not gonna lie. When she was born and the doctor placed her on my chest, I looked at her and thought  to myself, "Whose kid is this? She doesn't look like us!"

Not that looking like Luke or I constitutes being a member of our family. Clearly. Ahem.

But truly, I expected her to look like a typical Beaver kid with round cheeks, peach fuzzy light hair and maybe a hint of her own flair. When Abigail appeared with dark hair and a face that was more slender than round, I assumed after the shock of birth wore off she'd favor Ashlee. And while she does, I continued to think - in the back of my mind or only around our closest friends - did this baby get switched with our baby at birth because, y'all, I didn't think she looked anything like us!

My Mom sent me a text about a week ago and said she was looking at some of my baby pictures and that, indeed, Abigail comes by her biology honestly. Apparently, we look alike! I dug out a photo of myself as a newborn and it's true, she's mine.

I say all of this in jest, of course, because I knew she was mine all along. Her temperament is uniquely hers, but she also reminds me quite a bit of Ella as a baby. She loves to be cuddled and held and hates her car seat with a fiery passion.

She makes the sweetest baby noises, often grunting, snorting or making other sweet little baby sounds. She hardly ever fully cries (unless she's in her carseat) but rather does this half cry-half squeak thing. She always prefers for someone, anyone really, to be holding her. Often, the spot of baby holder is occupied by one of her oldest 3 siblings. They adore her. All of her older sibling adore her. If I didn't know better, I'd swear she's lost all her hair on the top of her head from kisses, rubs and nuzzles.

She's managed to show us a few intentional smiles and usually really shows off if we makes kissy noises at her. Currently, she has a little, tiny dimple on the right side of her chin that appears only when she grins. I'm praying it stays.

She loves to be swaddled and, perhaps the BEST part of her baby-ness is, SHE TAKES A PACIFIER! Ella refused one altogether and most of the other kids only entertained them for a few weeks. But Abigail seems to really like it. A first for us since Elizabeth was an infant.

She nurses about every 2 hours during the day but does so efficiently, usually in under 10 minutes. She goes about 2.5 hours at night but last night set a new record for 4 GLORIOUS HOURS. She alternates sleeping between her bouncy seat, the swing and in someone's arms.

I try so hard not to compare all of our children to each other, but I think it's natural to when you have multiple children. And while she's similar to her older brothers and sisters in many ways, she's certainly her own little person (as if she didn't prove that enough during my pregnancy). And as I looked back at Ella's 1 month post I realized, again, that maybe Abigail does favor our other kids more than I thought.

One month old, already. It's hard to think it's already went by so quickly and yet, it's becoming harder and harder to remember what life was like without her. Happy 1 month sweet, cuddly Abigail! We love you so much!

Survival

Her tiny little grunts, snorts and noises stir me from my sleep. I was in a hard sleep, the kind that you fall into immediately when it's been weeks since you've slept through the night. I throw the covers off of my sweating body and shimmy/scoot to the end of the bed. The pack 'n play is squeezed between my side of the bed and the wall, making it an acrobatic feat for me to get out of bed, but Abigail isn't in the pack 'n play.

I kick the bouncy seat, hold back a scream and realize - all in in the same 3 seconds - that I left her bouncy seat on vibrate. I feel my way through the darkness and click the switch over to the off position. Then, step over the bouncy seat. She's not in there either.

I lean over, turn off the baby swing and reach down to grab my, now crying, baby girl. I snuggle her close, smell her head and kiss her cheek, just like I did the hour before.

Together we perform an acrobatic dance as I climb, with her in one arm, back onto my side of the bed, smacking my other big toe against the foot of the pack 'n play.

"I really should move that pack 'n play," I think, "she's not slept in it in nearly a week."

We settle in, I wrap the boppy around my waist and she begins to nurse. Sleepily, I lay my head back against the hard metal headboard. I doze on and off for the next 30 minutes, until I wake up with a stiff neck and a milk-drunk newborn who is snoozing softly in my arms.

All the books say you should never sleep with your baby. All the books say that you should never let your baby sleep in a swing, or a bouncy seat or propped up on the boppy. All the books say you should only let your baby sleep in her own bed and move her to her crib as soon as possible.

All the books say to sleep when your baby sleeps and to rest as much as possible during her first few weeks of life.

I'm betting none of those books are authored by mothers with lots of small children, most of which do not nap during the day. I'm also willing to bet that those books are written for those days when everything seems to go smoothly, your baby nods off to sleep quietly on your chest and those nursing mommas drink their 64 ounces of water a day.

64 ounces. As if. I'd never leave the bathroom. Or maybe I'd just have to buy disposable underwear. That might work better actually.

I lay my sweet, swaddled blessing beside me in the bed, careful to move the covers far way from her tiny body. She stirs, snorts and grunts in disapproval of me laying her down. I offer for her to nurse again and we both drift off to sleep.

An hour or so later we repeat this same process, because somewhere in the last 30 minutes I've gotten tired of sleeping on my side and I have returned my little babe to the swing or bouncy seat or, just maybe, her pack 'n play.

Finally, I hear the click of the door and a sleepy child's body steps through the door way. "Hey baby," I whisper. "Come. Quietly. Abigail just went back to sleep."

Arms and legs curl up beside me and I listen to stories about crazy dreams or Star Wars or how she can't wait to have her own baby one day, depending on which of the oldest 3 kids is beside me. I drift in and out of sleep until, finally, a two year old shouts her impatience with her crib at me through the monitor.

Our home springs to life as the sounds of laughter, toilets and squeals echo through the hallways.

I remind myself that this is the phase known of as SURVIVAL. In these early days of sleeplessness, frequent feedings and numerous diaper changes, our goal is to survive. Teaching our children that we value family, each other and the freshness of new life is most important.

If they learn some spelling, math, reading and history along the way, then so be it.

Survival.

Nothing more, nothing less. We simply exists to love one another and enjoy the expansion of our family. Some days are better than others. Somedays, all of our schooling gets done and our home is a disaster zone. Other days, the house is tidy and the kids are dirty from a full day of playing outside. Life consists of give and take right now. It's a life that is lived minute by minute, hour by hour and often no further.

As I write this, Abigail is snoozing soundly in her bouncy seat, Ella and Olivia are finishing up naps, Ashlee and Lucas are enjoying an afternoon at their grandmothers' houses and Elizabeth and Aaron are busy dancing under a tree as it blooms in the spring sun.

Life is busy, chaotic, loud, eventful, peaceful, cozy, dramatic, new and all in all, a complicated dance of learning what our new normal looks like.

After all, what is normal anyway? We abandoned that term long ago. Seven kids ages 7 and under isn't normal. It's survival. A beautiful, complicated, peaceful survival.

Which is exactly what we are doing.

Happy 2nd Birthday Ella Joy!

To an outsider, my life today and my life from two years ago today probably don't look that much different. Two years ago today, I was snuggling, rocking, swaddling and nursing a newborn.




Two years ago today, I was mesmerized by the intoxicating smell and gentle coos of a sweet baby girl. Today it's Abigail I snuggle. Two years ago today, it was my sweet Ella Joy.

Somewhere along the way in the last two years I blinked and life went racing by. My cuddly, sweet newborn babe turned into a feisty, jabbering, independent two year old. My cubby, round cheeked baby grew into a chubby, round cheeked little girl with flowing, blond ringlets and a smile that melts my heart.




At two years old, Ella really believes she's one of the "big kids." No matter where the other kids are or what they are doing, she's smack in the middle of it, throwing her toddler weight around and enforcing her own set of rules.




She adores wearing shoes, anyone's shoes, especially boots. As soon as one of the older 3 kick off their cowboy boots, she races to get them and shove them onto her own squishy toddler foot.




She's an expert escape artist and pint sized Houdini. She's been known to escape from footed, zip up pajamas that have been put on backwards - all without unzipping the zipper. Her nap and bedtime routines consist of duct taping on her diaper so that she won't take it off and launch it out of her crib.




And speaking of her crib. Oh, that girl. We've had crib escapees before. But typically, a hard fall or a consequence from Mom or Dad usually deters future crib breaks. At 2, Aaron moved from the crib to the big boy bed and never looked back.




But Ella? Ha! Falls, consequences and the lure of a big girl bed wasn't enough to keep her in any bed, much less her crib. Finally, we gave up and bought a crib tent. So far, she's managed to stay put. So far.




She's maintained her nickname of Ella Goat because of her willingness to eat just about anything. Especially anything green. Her affinity for foods that are green are only out measured by Aaron's repulsion of the same foods. She'll eat anything and does so in large quantities. She's been wearing 24 month and 2T clothes for a while now and as I begin to pull out spring and summer clothing, it's a given that she'll move straight into 3T clothes. I'm eager to see what percentiles she's in when we go for her 2 year check up next week. Having never had a baby in more than the 50th percentile, I'm sure she'll be a rule changer in that arena as well.




This girl and I have a special bond, it's unique from the one I have with the other kids. It's not that she's my favorite or even because she's the "baby" (which, I mean, she's not. Though it's hard for me to wrap my mind around that). The bond I have with her is is just...well, special. She's a Momma's girl through and through. She squeals with excitement when Daddy comes home at the end of the day but when push comes to shove (which is does a lot around here) Mommy is the only one who can adequately soothe her cries, calm her fears and kiss her boo boos.




As I was taking these photos of her yesterday, she kept wanting to sit on my lap or stand with one arm wrapped tightly around my leg. And I couldn't help but smile, even though I really wanted her to step back so that my lens could capture her sweetness.




You know, love is a crazy thing, especially when it's directed toward your children. You find out you're expecting (whether by birth or adoption) and suddenly your heart begins to expand and you begin to love this person you've never met. Then you hold your baby for the first time and think that surely your heart will explode from all the love inside it, trying desperately to pour itself onto this person in your arms.




Then, they grow. And one day they're swinging on the swingset or running through the freshly mowed grass or just sitting and watching cartoons and you look at them and that same swell of emotion happens again. And you wonder, how on earth could I ever love someone the way I love you?

And yet somehow your love continues to grow, day by day, week by week, year by year. And if you add more children into the mix you're sure that none of them could ever capture your heart the way that this one does.

But let me say with confidence, that loving the 6th child with a reckless abandon, in only a way that mother can love, is entirely possible. In fact, I'm learning that it's possible 7 times over. Somehow, this heart of mine continues to multiply the love I have inside for each of my 7 babes. It's entirely possible to fall in love with your children over and over and over again.

And with this frazzle haired girl, who hardly ever lets me keep her hair in a cute, neat pony for longer than .375 seconds, I'm finding that falling in love with her is simply wonderful. Somedays I think I could just squeeze her til she hurts. She floods my heart with such simple, wonderful joy.

Happy 2nd Birthday my sweet Ella Joy! I love you so very much!

Abigail's birth story

Luke just swept all six older kids out the door and to Elizabeth's last basketball practice, which means I have approximately 15 minutes to catch you up to speed on what happened over our long, exciting, exhausting weekend. (I started this post on March 9th, by the way, so now all the kids are tucked into bed and Luke is watching March Madness. It's only taken me 8 days to get back to finishing this post. I can't quit snuggling my newborn.)

Incase you haven't heard, I HAD A BABY! Before my due date, without being induced.

Y'all, it's a miracle. I'm serious.

First of all, on Friday around lunchtime, Lucas fell and busted his mouth pretty bad. It required a trip to the oral surgeon to get stitched up. He's doing pretty good now, most of his swelling is gone but he's still pretty bruised. That's a whole post within itself. But I tell you that to say that on Friday, while we were going all over the place to get his mouth evaluated I had several contractions. They were very sporadic and I knew they were because of stress. By the time things calmed down on Friday night, they'd subsided.

Flash forward to Monday morning. I woke up feeling fine. My Mom texted me and asked if she could bring dinner.

Um. Yes! Do I ever say no to that?

She asked what I would like and I, jokingly said "hospital food."

About 10:30 I noticed I was having several contractions and figured I should probably time them. I wasn't getting my hopes up because, honestly, they really didn't hurt too much. I figured they were probably Braxton Hicks (who is that guy anyway?) and that they'd pass.

Later, I went to the bathroom and noticed that I had lost a bit of my mucus plug. Again, I didn't think too much about it because I was taking some Mucinex medicine for the cough/cold the kids had so generously passed to me.

Share their cookies or dessert? Never. Share the kennel cough? Always.

Anyway, over the next hour I had several more contractions and continued with my pee-every-10-minutes habit. On the 3rd trip to the bathroom it was obvious that I was really loosing my mucus plug and these contractions, though inconsistent in time, were the real thing.

I called my OB's office. Since my uterus is so floppy, he'd told me to call and come in at the first sign of labor so that they could ensure that Baby Girl was head down. I got to the OB about 1:00 the nurse practitioner checked me and said I was a "loose 1." When she stripped my membranes though she said I stretched to 3 cm and not be surprised if I was a 2 upon leaving.

My mom and I grabbed some lunch and my contractions became a bit more intense as well as consistent. They were every 8-12 minutes but I was still able to talk through them. I decided to see if the chiropractor could get me in that day since I was hopeful I'd be giving birth in the next 24-36 hours (little did I know it would be sooner than that!).

I left the chiropractor's office about 3:30 and headed home with contractions coming about every 10 minutes. I called our babysitter/nanny Amanda and asked her if she'd stay for a while so that I could go for a walk when I got home in the hopes of getting these contractions a little closer together.

At this point, I was still not getting my hopes up. I was seriously thinking that it could all just stop or, worse, it could last for days. After all, I was hardly dilated at the doctor just a few hours earlier.

I got home and went for a very short walk because it was super cold outside. My friend Brittany came over (to walk with me) but by the time she got there, contractions were every 7-9 minutes apart. I called Luke about 4:15 and told him he'd better head on home. He got home about 4:45 at which time my contractions were every 3.5 - 5 minutes and we left for the hospital shortly afterwards.

We got to the hospital about 5:30. I was checked into the Labor and Delivery suite, the nurse checked me and I was about 5 cm. Within 30 minutes intense contractions began. You know, the ones where you feel like your pelvis is literally going to snap in half?

I had wanted so much to go into labor on my own and next to that I wanted to try to deliver without an epidural. Don't ask me why. I can't answer that. But I'd had epidurals with every other pregnancy and they'd only half taken so I figured I could do it without one. Luke was an amazing support for me. He kept praying over me and telling me that I could do it, even though I had some serious doubts as to whether or not I'd lost my mind wanting to do this thing delivery thing at all, much less without meds.

About 6:15 the nurse checked me and I was at 7cm. I labored about 30 more minutes and started wondering why labor and delivery had always been my favorite part of pregnancy. I'm pretty sure I thought I was going to fall into a heap of pain and misery right there on the floor of the delivery room. And I probably would have too had I not been so worried about not being able to get up. At about 6:50pm I asked the nurse to check me again. I figured if I wasn't progressing, then I'd go ahead and get the epidural. I was at an 8.5cm. The OB was called and he took a SWEET FOREVER TO GET THERE. I think he decided to walk backwards on his hands up to the labor and delivery suite.

Ahem. Not really. But it felt that way.

The OB finally arrived, I pushed for about 15 minutes and at 7:28pm Abigail Mercy drew her first breath.

Experiencing labor and delivery without an induction and without an epidural was just another confirmation that labor and delivery are indeed my favorite part of pregnancy. You know, besides that little part of pregnancy where you get a baby at the end.

We are all so completely in love with little Abigail and now, 12 days later, I'm finding it hard to remember what life was like without her.

All of the children are smitten with her. They ask me 7,592 times a day if they can hold her. Then they just sit and stare at her. I think we're all in awe that God has blessed us, yet again, with a beautiful, healthy baby.

Ella calls her "Baybay Ab-duh-dayle" and screeches every time she sees her. I keep waiting for her excitement with having a new baby to wear off, but so far it hasn't. She's just so sweet with her.

My amazingly talented and incredibly generous friend Lindsey was present in the delivery room and took the breathtaking photos you see here. You can see more by clicking here. Her photos make birth look like a fairy tale, don't they? I love that she stands with me in awe at the miracle of childbirth. What a blessing to be able to watch your children enter the world.

Introducing...

Abigail Mercy

Born: Monday, March 5, 2012 at 7:28pm

6 pounds, 13 ounces 20.5 inches long

(photos by Light of Mine Photography)

We are so in love with her and we cannot stop praising God for His blessings. She's tiny but not for long. She likes to eat. A lot. :)

Birth story and details soon!

I'm words, he's numbers: Thoughts from the mind of my man

I don't have a perfect marriage. In fact, my pregnancies take their toll on our marriage. I feel so miserable and pukey-bad for the first 4 - 5 months, love the middle 8 or 9 weeks, then I slip into that slightly-less-comfortable-than-a-beached-whale phase for the last 2 months.

Needless to say, I'm cranky for a lot of the time that I gestate our babies. My sweet husband fills right in where I leave off, taking care of kids, laundry, housework, you name it. But it's hard on him.

By far, this has been the hardest pregnancy for both of us.

Add to that that I'm a woman of many words and my husband is, well, a man of less than many words. Especially when he's thinking about something.

Typically I vomit my words all over him, holding little to nothing back, letting every passing emotion sweep across my lips like a flash flood in a monsoon.

But Luke, he's a thinker. I learned a little trick a few years ago on how to move from being a talker to a listener when I'm with my man. It's invaluable for understanding, hearing and really listening to my husband. (Maybe one day I'll share it with you all, if my husband promises not to act like he knows my secret.)

Anyway, just because my sweet man isn't much on for sharing his thoughts and emotions, doesn't mean they don't exists. Before we got married, I'd only seen him cry one time. He shed a few, tender tears during our wedding ceremony. Then, he cried when he found out his dog had died and when we found out his grandfather was in critical condition, likely to die within a matter of days.

Otherwise, he was cool, calm and collected (unless there's inclement weather, then not-so-much). This life of few words, and even fewer raw emotion was the norm. That was, until we had kids. Now, my man isn't afraid to have or show his emotion. And I love it. I love it so very much.

Even though emotion flows easily for him now, he still isn't one to pour out words. Maybe it's because he can't find the right ones or maybe it's because he likes to really make sure he's sure before he speaks.

I think it's because, in our relationship, I'm words, he's numbers.

Today, I got this email from my thinker husband. It brought me to tears and to my knees to thank my Lord that I have such a man who values our children as much as I do and who sees them as the blessing they are. Glory be, how I love this man of mine.

-----------

From Luke today, via email:

So I find myself crying, sobbing, on the way to work this morning. I would apologize for being a man that cries, but I have learned to embrace these kinds of emotions. “You see Billy cried, because, well, he is a crier.” Through certain circumstances I was able to take my oldest daughter to breakfast this morning. As I am in the car driving, images begin to flash through my mind.

• Elizabeth (age 7) being able to get herself completely ready. She took extra time this morning to ‘look nice’ for daddy.
• When I get home from breakfast I see Ella, our youngest (age 2), getting out of the shower {I will not give any more details on that point}.
• I said “see ya” to my very pregnant wife, carrying our soon to be youngest daughter.

You see, this pregnancy has been different for me. In the past, I have taken the role of caring for the older kids and didn’t stop, nor have much time, to think about our new child on the way. With the kids being older now, things are even busier, but it is easier for all of us to spend time together. With this, I am able to enjoy each child and the beauty of what each one holds.

As I am looking through the windshield I think about my 7 yr old daughter and how she showers me with so much love each and every day. Then I remember how proud my 2 yr old was for me to see her being a ‘big girl’. Then I begin to think of our newest daughter on the way and the moments of joy she will bring me as a father and I don’t even know what they are yet.

All of this brings me to the Throne of God. Humbled he would entrust me to make decisions for these children that will shape there lives. Thankful he would bless me with smiles across a breakfast table, naked babies soaking wet with a huge smile, and to feel my daughter move in the womb. I have such a large responsibility to be a Priest, Profit, Provider, and Protector for my family. God equipped me today.

Savoring

I have a sweet (much younger) friend who is due with her first baby any day now. In fact, I snapped a few maternity pictures of her a few weeks ago, both of our abdomens swollen with child.








Isn't she precious?

As her due date slips closer and closer, I see the agony in her posts on facebook, begging her baby boy to come on out and meet the world. I can almost hear her exasperated sighs as she heaves herself off of the couch or out of the bed and shuffles to the bathroom yet again.

I can probably hear her fictitious sighs and empathize with her so well, because I am there too. Those sighs aren't aren't fictitious, they're being continually breathed through my own gritted teeth.

Only being a few weeks behind her in baby-growin' I can totally relate to my young friend. Granted, her uterus is probably a lot less floppy and unstable. And since this is her first pregnancy, and not her fourth, I'd be willing to bet that her hip sockets don't threaten to leave her nearly as frequently as mine do.

But none-the-less, I know she's reaching that pivotal point of miserable.

As I tried my best to encourage her to wait on that sweet boy and not rush for an induction, I found the Lord gently telling me so many things. Which prompted me to think, then write the following letter to myself from the recesses of my own, not-pregnant brain.

Dear 38 week pregnant (for the fourth time) self,

What did you really expect? I mean, this isn't your first rodeo. You know how these things go. You know that you've never, ever had a baby early. You know that you've never, even had a single birth without the help of that devil drug, pitocin. And, most likely, this baby isn't budging until that venom is injected into your veins. So really, maybe you should just chill out with all the natural and herbal attempts.

But more so than that, think about this....

This could be it for you. There is a very real chance that this could be the last time you ever feel those sweet baby kicks, bouncing baby hiccups and a tiny baby tushy rolling around inside you. As you ride in the car, lay in the bed and read stories to your babies, savor every second, every nudge, every painful shove because one day, you're going to miss this.

One day, many years from now, you'll see a largely pregnant woman waddling along and wish, even if for a brief fleeting second, that it was you stuffed into her too tight shoes. One day, you'll look at a mother, shuffling her kids around her like a mother hen with her chicks, her belly so swollen her hip bones are a distant memory, and you'll long to feel that swish, kick and jab deep within your belly. Heck, you might even wish for a foot under your ribs.

One day, when your children are all grown up and having babies of their own, maybe even when this sweet girl you're carrying inside you is carrying her own daughter, you'll vaguely be able to remember what if felt like to have a babe squished so tightly inside you.

One day, you'll know for sure that your child bearing years are over, your eyes will fill with tears, and you'll wonder how you ever got to this place where pregnancy was no longer an option. Maybe your future holds many more newborns, some from your own womb and possibly others from another woman's womb.

But treasure this moment. Treasure the time you have with just you and this sweet girl. Know, with confidence, that this time is fleeting. 30 short days from now, the likelihood is great that this girl will be in your arms and no longer sitting squarely on your bladder. You'll feel the twitch of a muscle, tenderly reach for your stomach and realize, all too quickly, that it's no longer a miracle inside you making that familiar sensation.

Time will fade your memories and one day and you'll wish you had savored these moments just a little more. You'll wish you had slowed down just a bit and enjoyed this time with your baby. Because before you know it, this sweet baby will be sleeping through the night, then using the potty and, all too soon, be able to live life without your constant care.

And in that moment you'll realize that you rushed these moments.