Thank You

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends!

Even though today has been frightfully busy, I've found myself pausing for moments to give thanks to the One who has blessed me so.

I beg your indulgence to say one more thing that I'm thankful for.

It is YOU, dear readers.

When I started this blog back in July, it was to share victories and trials of being a wife and mama the way that I'm called to be.

Some of my readers (not too many, yet) I have known for years. Some I have just met, but I feel I'm getting know and are getting to know me ~ for better or worse.

And so I wish to say thank you.

Thank you for reading this humble blog of mine and making me realize that I'm not the only one that has to fish action figures out of the toilet (actually, we just let it go down) or to relish the precious action of a little hand reaching out to find mine.

Thank you for reminding me that the calling I have is truly holy.

Thank you.

From our family to yours,



Have a blessed Thanksgiving.

Actually, you probably already have.

Well, better late than never.

I Am Thankful For...

Sounds almost cliche, doesn't it?

It's almost too easy to say family, friends, etc.

And even though it's probably true, it almost becomes rote.

Of course, I'm thankful for my home. Of course, I'm thankful for my husband and children. Of course, I'm thankful for my abundant food, which causes my abundant waistline, which in turn, causes me to go purchase new and bigger clothes, which I'm thankful for, too.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Usually, I am extremely grateful for my many, many blessings. I'm the first to realize and speak up about how my life is a living testimony of God's grace.

But lately, it's been a little more difficult. I'm still grateful, still blessed, and still aware of that fact. And yet, and yet...

My husband and I had a grievous disappointment at the beginning of last week. It seemed (and still seems, if I'm being truthful) that the dream that was being built up, came unceremoniously crashing down.

I'm pretty good at being a big picture kind of gal, so usually, I wouldn't be quite so devastated. I'm pretty practical and can remind myself that God is ultimately in control.

Not this time.

I'm not seeing how this is going to end up the way I want it to. I can't understand how it could be good or better any other way.

I want to be two again. I want to cry, complain, throw myself on the floor - you get the picture. And it ain't pretty.

My husband keeps reminding me that God's plan and ways are perfect. I know. I just want to mope. Is that so wrong?

Yes.

Get over thyself, Jamie.

Sheesh.

Okay, so it here it goes: I am thankful that my plans didn't work out the way I wanted them to. I know that God has something even bigger and better just around the corner.

I am thankful that my washing machine is fixed.

I am thankful for Goodwill's half-off sales. (way too much fun!)

I am thankful for chapstick.

I am thankful for big things and little things. But most of all, I am thankful that God has given me the privilege of having little arms wrap around my neck, the ability to kiss jelly covered cheeks, to be a cherished and beloved wife to my husband and the opportunity to teach my children about Him.

For that I am thankful.

And that will never be a cliche.

Looking for the Joy

This week has just been one of those weeks. You know what I'm talking about.

One of those weeks that you just have to look for the joy. And I mean search for it.

After much diligent are tireless searching, I have found some!

Turns out, I didn't have to look very far. I'm surrounded by joy everyday. It just gets lost in the shuffle (or the laundry).

Here are some of the things I found:

*the feeling of the baby falling asleep in my arms.

*knowing I get to listen to Christmas music next week. The cd's are out and ready to go. (Just between us, I know that at the end of the season, I will gladly put them back on the shelf until next year.)

*the light in my daughter's eyes when she spells all her spelling words correctly. Easier or harder because I'm her teacher? Jury's still out on that one.

*the baby grass growing in the back yard.

*the new bedding on the guest bedroom bed. So soft, so fluffy, so girly. Be still my heart.

*snuggling under the blankets now that the weather's cool. On the couch, in bed, doesn't matter, as long as it is with my hubby. And hot chocolate.

*listening to the exciting adventures of my beautiful children (both real and imagined. The adventures, not the kids.)

*knowing my husband took tomorrow off, just because. The thought of warm pancakes, happy kids, an extra day {sigh}. Heavenly.

*getting to stay up and watch a movie tonight, due to previous statement.

*spending less at the grocery store than planned. It doesn't happen too often, but when it does, there is great rejoicing in the land.

But the biggest joy this week has been... (trumpets blasting)

being almost done with fall cleaning!

So, the joy was there. I just had to find the energy to look for it.

Attention: Car Detailer Wanted

I'm telling you, they should've expected the unexpected.

So many times, the unexpected is just plain yucky. It could be a car accident, a temper tantrum in the grocery store, a leaky washing machine {ahem}.

This time it wasn't so yucky. Well, maybe a leetle. Mkay, it was a lot yucky. That was just unavoidable. But definitely yucky in a good way.

Here's my dear friends' story:

Do you see this beautiful familia?



These are our very dear friends, Matthew and Megan and Princess Ivy. Megan is my husband's cousin, Matthew married us, their son Max was our ringbearer, we've vacationed together and they were on our second date.

We're close.

It seems to me that the unexpected almost always happens to them.

Why, it happened just this morning.

Just this morning, Lil' Princess decided she was coming out of her mama's tummy.

Fast.

So fast, in fact, that she got to be born in a parking lot instead of a nice, cozy, sterile hospital room. Silly girl!



Yes, indeedy, this girl was born one hour after Megan went into labor, several miles away from hospital. And in her Grandma's car.

*Because the local evening news didn't even mention Grandma Marcia's name (how rude), I'll do it here! Good job, Auntie for providing a soft place for your granddaughter to land! Were you, uh, planning on selling that car anytime soon?

There are several reasons that I wanted to share this story with you.

1) Frankly, it's a fabulous story. Who wouldn't want to tell it?

2) They are just so darn cute.

3) This story was picked up by all of the local news stations and newspapers. I didn't want to be left out.

4)I'm almost famous now. I know some people who were on the news. (And they're not even in trouble!)

5) Because the unexpected happens!

It really does and many times, it's a good thing! Or at least makes a good/funny story to tell all your friends at Bible Study.

So, have fun with the unexpected. Embrace it, laugh at it, laugh at yourself, for heaven's sake. It's just too much fun!

PS My husband now thinks that next time (?) I have a baby, we should time it so that we make the evening news, too.

Hmm, I'll think about it.

I Heart Washing Machines

Ridiculous?

Not really.

Here's my joy for the week:


A washing machine. Am I serious?

Yeah, you betcha!

Last week, my washer started leaking. It was just a little leak.

I managed to do one load a day, just making sure there were plenty of towels along the bottom to absorb any yucky water coming out.

Let me remind you: I have four children. Four dirty, messy, stain-creating, wonderful children.

Let's add to that: I have a husband. A fabulous, hard-working husband.

We also have family coming in next weekend, so all the towels and linens have to be freshly washed.

One load a day just wasn't cutting it.

Note: I didn't add myself to the dirty, messy roll call. I'm practically perfect in every way. Hardworking? Yes. Stinky? Never! Hee, hee!

Anyhoo, we had a family friend come and look at it, remove the offensive, broken part, and then instructed us what to buy. Hubby bought it, came home and replaced it!

Hand the boy a trophy!! (Other than his trophy wife, of course.)

And so, if you'll excuse me, I have a mountain of laundry calling my name. Hear it? I'm off to do laundry. Joyfully. Who knew that could happen?

Ripe for the Pickin'

It's fall, it's fall, it's fall! This is when Arizonans come out of their long summer hibernation to play outside.

Doin' my happy dance in my computer chair. Care to join me?

No? Party pooper.

That's okay. I don't hold grudges.

Fall time in Arizona is THE best time of the year.



Do you believe this beautiful Granny Smith apple grew here in Arizona?

It did. I know because I picked it.

Yes. It's true.

Last Saturday, the whole family loaded up in our gas-guzzlin' SUV and drove three hours to get to this apple orchard.

Three hours in the car with four children.

Boy, were we happy to finally get there!



First, we ate. Of course! {sigh} It was so lovely under the trees.



Then we picked our apples.



And we picked more.



Seventeen and a half pounds of apples later, we were done picking. ~whew!~



We had to sample them, too! {My kids were quite distressed about all the apples on the ground. We're hoping the birds have a wonderful Thanksgiving feast on them.}



Mother Nature's ultimate playground: trees. Who would've thought?



Just when we thought our day couldn't get any better, we were off to have our "pumpkins" pick their own pumpkins.



This one could care less about "his" pumpkin. He just thought they were huge orange balls to play with. He was probably glad to be out of the stroller, too!



Some of us got a little tired. Good thing Mama knows how push a wheelbarrow full of a three-year old girl.



And then there's the poor child who had to sit for a cheesy picture to appease her Mama. Do you see the smile of tolerance on her pretty face?



So now you see why we traveled almost four hundred miles in one day to pick apples and pumpkins.

We did it just for the joy of it.

Spoiled Rotten, That's Me

Time to 'fess up. I'm layin' it out on the table for you. My dark secret is finally coming out into the open.

I am not perfect.

What?!

I wish I could be the woman who has it all together. The one who has children who listen to her words and take them to heart and remember them when temptation comes knocking. I wish I didn't have to keep re-learning lessons. Especially the lesson that says, "It's not about me."

Have I completely disillusioned you?

Do you still want to be my friend?

You're so sweet.

Let me tell you about my humbling experience yesterday.

Well actually, for the past few weeks. (It takes me a while, I guess)

My youngest, darling baby that he is, is seven and a half months old. He's been sleeping through the night since he was 4 weeks old. Told ya I'm spoiled.

That is, until about six weeks ago. Out of the blue, my happy sleeping baby was waking up screaming. And by howdy, do I mean screaming.

Seeing as that I'm Big Mama and Big Daddy has to get up at some early morning hour that I didn't even know existed, the task came to me to comfort, feed, snuggle, feed, change and feed this bouncing baby boy.

At first, I didn't mind. Occasionally, maybe a wee bit frustrated. I am human, remember? So, dutifully, I'd drag my half-asleep self and tend to him. This happened night after night. For six weeks. Straight.

Let me add right here, Big Daddy has been incredibly supportive throughout (of course, he's been getting the sleep!) Seriously, though, he's been so appreciative and affirming of me.

Sunday morning, in the wee small hours, I heard his siren go off again. Aye, chihuahua.

Dragged self out of bed. Changed poopy diaper. Nursed him. Watched a really old version of Pride and Prejudice on cable. Got back into bed. Wanted to cry and body slam my husband for continuing to sleep. I was slightly grumpy. Oh, how I complained to God. Oh, how I wanted to complain to my unconscious husband. I just wanted to have a good gripe session. But I slept instead.

Turns out, when my hubby's alarm clock went off (if we don't set it, church is half over by the time we get there), I didn't move. My husband actually went to the store and I never knew he was gone.

When he got back, he tiptoed upstairs, came to my side of the bed and proceeded to wave the aroma of hot, fresh pumpkin spice latte under my nose. The blessed man had gone to my favorite coffee shop and gotten my favorite coffee (and a muffin) for little ol' imperfect me. To top it off, it was in my favorite mug.

I was humbled. I mean, face down on the floor humbled before my Lord. My husband didn't need to hear my complaints. He knew what was going on while he slept. What's more is that he appreciated my sacrifice for him.
The Lord, also, didn't need to hear my complaints and grumblings. He knew what was going on all the time.

This man spoils me rotten! He honestly treats me like a queen every day of my life. I've never known anyone who treated and loved their wife like he does me.



My kids hear over and over my voice telling them to not have complaining hearts. What they didn't know was that I was preaching to the choir.