from our autumn days

Life Lately

Life has been busy in our little world. The good kind of busy. The busy that involves the daily doings of raising four children, sharing conversation and community with friends that we cherish, and really just celebrating life. All the many parts of it.

Somewhere in the span of the calendar pages turning, Boss and I celebrated ten years of marriage. A decade of love. To be honest, the night we had set aside to celebrate together did not go as planned. Luke was two weeks old at the time, we were tired, and we both said things that we should not have said. But at the end of the day, there is still no one else on earth that I would rather be sharing my days with. Both the good days and the bad ones. For me, Boss is it. And I thank God that he feels the same way about me. We ended our anniversary with I'm sorry and I love you. And I looked into the eyes of the man that I love and I prayed for many decades more.

Two weeks after our anniversary, this little fella turned one month old.

Luke is such a sweet little love. He reminds me most of his biggest sister, as he is a content, quiet little guy. Unless he wants to eat. Then he makes sure you are aware of his hunger. For the first time ever I am committed to nursing, and I will say that I love seeing my tiny guy begin to fill out. Our bodies are awesome and this entire process of pregnancy, birth, and then nursing my infant for nourishment reminds me every single day that there is a God. The way he designed the creation and sustainment of life is nothing short of amazing to me.

What else?

Yesterday this sparkly eyed girl turned seven. Seven years old. Kate was our most challenging child during the first two years of her life, but she has grown up to be the most charming and delightful little girl! She is a wonderful daughter and the very best sister. I love her so much and I am blessed to be her mama.




























Jack is now potty trained. We started working on it the very same week that we brought Luke home from the hospital. You know. Because I had nothing else on my agenda. But I am so proud of my biggest boy! He may or may not have recently gotten in trouble for showing every single person that he meets his new underwear (which involves dropping his drawers for all the world to see), but in his defense, Batman is pretty cool.

And then there is Emma. She is such a help to me! The perfect oldest child to our crew. Lately she is maturing so much and growing up before my very eyes. I am thankful she is mine.

 So that is a glimpse into the life of our family lately. Our life that is good, and sweet, and exhausting, and challenging, and hard, and wonderful all wrapped up in one. And I am thankful for all of it. For every one of our days together.

Recently our church family lost a wonderful man. Boss and I often list the couples ahead of us in this life that we admire, that we want to grow to be like and to model our family life and marriage after. Only two couples ever make our list. This man and his wife are one of those two couples and my heart is so saddened over his passing. But I will tell you this. Knowing him and now watching his wife tread through these dark days so gracefully, most definitely makes me want to know God more deeply. Knowing them makes me want to live each day more fully. Together. As a family.

I know that the Lord is at work. All around us and in our family. And I am so very thankful for this life that I have been given and for the people that I am blessed to share it with.

Less is Often More

Last of the birthday posts. Promise.

Thank you for my best happy birthday, Mama!

My son keeps saying this to me with a huge smile filling his little face. The last three days he has partied hard. And he has been loved well.

The longer I have mothered, the more our birthday celebrations have changed. In the early party days we did things up big. Think pony rides and giant inflatables. It was a statement of sorts, to celebrate my children in big, public fashion. But at one particular party, I stopped and noticed my daughter's face. It was the pony party of 2008, and despite the amount of money that had been spent, my daughter was not having fun. Her small face looked sad. The only time she smiled was when the planned activities were over and she was free to run and twirl and dance with her friends. That party taught me a lesson.

As with most things in life, less is often more.

So we slowed things down. Less people, mostly family, sometimes close friends. Not as many planned events, more of allowing each particular child to be who they are. To love what they love. To embrace them turning another year older in a more intimate and personal fashion. And my children started smiling at the thought of their own special day again. We have not celebrated each child less, we have simply been striving for more than the boxed version of typical childhood celebrations.

At three years old, Jack is into cheese burgers and trains. So we gathered grandparents, we ate cheese burgers, and we went to look at trains. And that smile you see on my son's face was there for the entire day. Precious! We blew up balloons, ate cake, and opened carefully selected presents. And that was it. And it was more than enough.

Sometimes, I think as parents, we put the pressure on ourselves. We are the ones who look around at what everyone else has, at what they are able to give their children, be it parties, toys, or experiences, and we think it is our responsibility to keep up. We believe that somehow, if we do less, it means we love our children less.

But my children have taught me that less is often more.

My children don't care about keeping up. They just want to love what they love and to be loved. Those two things are all it takes to produce spectacular smiles. To love and be loved is more than enough.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Jack. You are loved. And you are more than enough.

Pancake Perfection: A Birthday Breakfast

On Friday we were in need of a birthday breakfast for our boy. I wanted to come up with something spectacular, because you only turn three once. Also, because my children compliment me when I do something spectacular and I like compliments. I thought about pulling out the old cookbook, but cookbook's make me feel old, so I did what any mama of the 21st century would do. I logged into Pinterest. I typed birthday breakfast into the search engine, and there they were in all of their spectacular goodness.

Cake Batter Pancakes, or as I like to call them, Pancake Perfection.

Holy guacamole pancakes they were pretty, all covered in colorful sprinkles. Like the creator of this recipe, I am convinced the world would be a happier place if more tiny bits of colored goodness were involved. It was love at first sight. And I knew then that my boy must have them. I rose early that morning and my two youngest children helped me prepare a birthday breakfast fit for a king. We sifted and stirred and sprinkled. And we decorated, because a breakfast of pancake perfection requires decorations. And it's absolutely true that polka dot straws and striped cups make the morning milk taste better. Add three blue balloons for the birthday boy and your party table is complete.

The recipe for these pancakes can be found HERE. How Sweet It Is is a delightfully funny blog full of delicious recipes. Check it out.

Make these pancakes. Your birthday boy will thank you. Your mouth will thank you. Your hips, not so much, but the rest of you will sing your pancake perfection praises.

You're welcome.

Magic in Ordinary Moments

We have spent the weekend celebrating our three year old boy.

 I have driven my children crazy with all of the picture taking, but I believe that anything worth celebrating must be documented well! They will thank me one day. However, add some props and allow silly faces, and my children are suddenly on board. Amazing what adding a bit of bling will do to an attitude!

I have found that to be true in all of life. Binoculars and a walking stick turn a hike into an adventure. A blanket turns lunch into a picnic. Sparkly shoes turn an ordinary dress into a ballgown. And props turn plain pictures into a photo shoot.

Find the magic in the ordinary moments of life.

Then celebrate like crazy and document well!

A Birthday Boy

Tomorrow, my son turns three. Three! Three amazing years old.

I remember well the morning he was born. My water broke in the middle of the night, as it always does, but I waited until the early morning hours to share the news that it was baby day. My parents arrived to keep the girls, phone calls were made, and Boss and I headed to the hospital, knowing our lives would never be the same again. They would be better. Because of our new son, we would be better.

We were settled into a room, friends and family arrived, and I drifted in and out of rest as my body labored. It was peaceful and perfect. Five hours after arriving it was time to push, and a few minutes after that, our baby was here.

Jack Ryan was perfection. He still is. The last three years have been an undeserved, but much appreciated gift. Life with a son is unlike anything I have ever known before. It is dirty, and silly, and incredibly funny. Life with a son is superheros, and bouncing balls, and  trains, and swinging swords. It is jumping, and marching, and all. the. time. LOUD. Life with a son is the best. Life with my son is more wonderful than I ever dared to dream.

My son makes me want to be a better mama. He makes me want to rise earlier, try harder, laugh louder, and dream bigger. My son's world is big. One minute he is a Power Ranger, the next a pirate. Anything he dreams up becomes his reality, if only for a moment. I could learn a lot from my son about becoming the person that I want to be. I can't wait to see what the Lord has planned for his life. Though he is small now, big things await our birthday boy.

Jack, thank you for three amazing years. You are all I ever dreamed of. And so much more.

Sharing My Life

I married Boss right after my junior year of college and promptly dropped out of school. I remember arguing with my dad about that choice. He seemed disappointed. I cried on my bed just days before my wedding, wishing that people, my parents, the world would understand that college was not what I wanted for my life. I had (and still have) nothing against an education. I am very thankful that Boss has both of his degrees and a good job that supports our family. I just wanted something different for myself.

 I wanted only to be a mother.

Many asked what I planned on doing with my days once I left school. They wanted to know my plan. My dad wanted to know the very same thing. Not because he was controlling, simply because he was caring, though it took becoming a parent myself to understand the difference. A decade ago I was not sure what my future days would hold, but I was sure they would be good. And nine years in to my job as mother, I can assure you that my days are indeed very, very good.

Even though I am a mother of (soon to be) four children, yesterday I spent the day with just one. A rare treat. My daughters went to serve at Matthew 25 Ministries with Boss, so Jack and I had the day to ourselves.

Our day started with frozen waffles and blueberries. Minus the frozen part, it was the breakfast of champions.

With bellies full, we cuddled on the couch and watched cartoons, because there was no one there to tell us that we couldn't.

As we were snuggling Jack fell asleep, so I went with it. Back to bed, just the two of us. It was glorious. Jack slept, but I memorized. His soft hair, the suck suck of his mimink. His syrupy breath and his sticky fingers in mine. My son is perfection, and I drank him in. He may not be my baby for much longer, but he will always be my baby. You know? If you are a mother, then you know.

When he woke up, we hopped in the bathtub where my son pointed out every single flaw on my body that he could find. But I told him that some of those flaws were because of him. Love flaws, which makes them not really flaws at all. More like beautiful marks of motherhood. We played whale and duck and made soap bubbles, and when our toes turned wrinkly we got out.

And then I announced that it was time for an adventure, so off to the bookstore we went. What better place to lose ourselves than in the land of stories? We drank chocolate milk, and played with trains, and filled our minds with exciting tales about baseball and fast cars.

And I fell more in love with my son, as if that was even possible. Turns out it was.

When we were done adventuring we drove home. The rest of our family returned and life was just as it should be.

And that was my day.

I may not have made any money, and I may not have worn a trendy suit and heels, but the work I did was important. My day mattered, because my son matters, and there is nothing more rewarding than investing my days, and my time, and my life in him. In all of my children. So the world can think it strange to enjoy spending my days with small ones, and they can scoff at the mama who dropped out of school with only one year remaining, but I know in my heart that I am right where I should be. Sharing my life with the ones I love most.

Happy at Home: Little Boy Style

Do you see this boy? I LOVE him. With my whole heart. Possibly more. I love all of my children, naturally, but there is something special about a mother's relationship with her son. All he has to do is look up at me with his big brown eyes and I melt. I melt right there into a puddle on the floor, a sopping mess of deep love.

Last week my boy turned two and a half years old. The night sky was fading, Boss and I were sitting around a toasty fire in the backyard, the children bouncing on the trampoline, their fingers still sticky from the Smores we had made. And then the significance of the day hit me. It was September 15th. Our boy was now officially two and a half years old. We had now loved him for 30 months. So I yelled across the yard to him, Happy (half) Birthday, Jack! He stopped bouncing. Today is my happy birfday? Dramatic pause. Yes, we told him. Hooray! Today is my happy birfday! he shouted as his sisters wildly cheered and clapped for him. It was an ordinary evening at our home, made special by the celebration of two and a half years of life.

At two and a half years old, Jack is a little ball of energy He is full of life, constantly fighting naps. He is afraid that if he sleeps he might possibly miss something! There is nothing he loves more than his parents, siblings, and grandparents. Except for maybe Kaytlin. Kaytlin is his girlfriend. She is also sixteen years old. But Jack doesn't seem to care about the age difference. All he knows is that he loves her. He also loves sports. Basketball, football, soccer, tennis, golf. If it comes with a ball, he loves it. And thank goodness for his love of sports, because that helps to balance out his other loves of Barbies, babies, tea parties, purses, and lip gloss. His love of sports helps his daddy not to feel as worried. His favorite foods are macaroni and cheese and grapes. And if we are going to keep this update honest, I must also say that Jack spends large portions of each day in time out for hitting and biting his sister, Kate. What can I say? Love hurts, baby. But just when I reach my breaking point in this whole 'parenting a rowdy little boy thing', he looks up at me with his big brown eyes and I melt all over again.

We feel so blessed that Jack is our son. Of course we think he is brilliant, and handsome, and funny, and wonderful. He makes life in our home better every single day. I thank God all of the time for the gift of my family and children. How can my home be anything but happy when I open my eyes to the gifts all around me? The answer is that it can't be. So scoot over Disney World. Home just might be becoming the happiest place on Earth.

Snapshots of a BOY on a Swing

 

Tidbits From My Toddler On Tuesday

Picture via Pinterest

Y'all, toddlers are hilarious! Seriously, if you are ever in need of some sunshine and smiles in your life, then you need to get a toddler. And if you don't have a toddler of your own, then borrow one from a friend! Or borrow mine! But you would have to give him back when you were done, because I happen to be fairly fond of him. He makes me smile All. The. Time.

A few Sunday's ago we were in church and the collection plate was about to be passed. I got out my wallet to give the girls their money to put in the plate when it passed their way, only this time, instead of two little outstretched hands in front of me, I found three! Jack had decided that he wanted in on this action! I only had two dollar bills in my wallet, one for each girl, but I gathered all of the spare coins that I could from the bottom of my purse (there were a lot!), and handed them to my boy. Oh, how that boy loves money. Only he doesn't love money for what it can do for him in this world. He has no clue what money can do for him in this world. He just knows that it is really fun to try and shove money in your eye. And up your nose. And down your shirt. And it was really fun to lick and blow on. And it was seriously the longest two minutes of my life, when Jack's chubby little fingers had their way with my coins.

Big sister Emma seemed to notice my distress and came to my rescue. (Eight year old's are seriously great, too. So while you're at it, get an eight year old in addition to the toddler.) Emma started whispering to Jack that he had to be careful with his money. She told him that his money was not meant to be repeatedly dropped on the floor and then retrieved, and that he should take care of his money so that he could give it to Jesus. Over and over, she whispered to him that very, very soon he could give his money to Jesus. And it worked like a charm! The thought of giving his money to Jesus seemed to excite Jack! I could hear him quietly repeating to himself, I give my money to Jesus. I give my money to Jesus. It was seriously precious. He even managed to sit quietly through the prayer, patiently waiting to give his money to Jesus.

Our friend, Mr. Owens, had our row that Sunday, and when he leaned forward to allow Jack to put his money into the plate, Jack looked up at him with the widest eyes I had ever seen! Jesus, he whispered in awe, his eyes never leaving Mr. Owens' face. My son thought that Mr. Owens was Jesus! It was hilarious! I tried to explain to Jack that Mr. Owens was not Jesus, but he refused to listen. His sister had told him he would be giving his money to Jesus, so that is what he did. And ever sense then, whenever we pass Mr. Owens in the foyer, or see him on the softball field, my son looks up at him with continued awe in his eyes and whispers, Jesus! Cute, right?

But there's more. Yesterday we took the children to play by the river and Jack found a coin hidden among the rocks. Kate asked him if he wanted to buy a gumball with his coin (gumballs are one of Jack's true loves), but he told her no! I give my money to Jesus, he said! Melts my heart. So Mr. Owens, it looks like you will be getting a brand new coin tomorrow night at church.

P.S. This is not the first time that Jack has mistaken a person for someone they are not. Several months ago we were eating in Frisch's near an older gentleman who was heavy set. He also had a long white beard and wore red. And Jack insisted that he was Santa! The boy was so excited to see Santa in April, he was beside himself. Over and over, Jack shouted Santa's name. And he may or may not have pointed. It was humiliating, and hilarious, all at the very same time.

P.P.S. Perhaps I could train Jack to start referring to me as Jennifer Garner? If Mr. Owens gets to be Jesus, then I should get to be Jennifer, at the very least. And Boss? I suppose he can keep his name. Because nothing really trumps the title Boss.

Oh, Jack. You make me smile all over my face!

Two Years of Love

A Birthday Letter to my Son

Dear Jack,

According to the calendar, today you are two years old! Two! My heart can't believe it. I know all parents say this, and I have said it before about each of your sisters, but it seems as though I have never known life without you in it. And like you were born just yesterday. All at the very same time. I remember fully the day that I pushed you into this world, all the days before it becoming a blur in a single instant. The moment they handed you to me, all slippery and wet, and the most perfect little boy that I had ever seen, is etched forever deep inside me. I lost a piece of my heart to you that day, the third little piece of me to now live, and walk, and breathe outside of my body. It is the most incredible feeling in the world, this birthing of a soul. And to have that soul be magnificent you? It just doesn't get any better than that.

Some of the moments of the last two years are a happy (exhausted) blur of sleepless nights, and spit up, and diaper changes, and rocking. The rocking is my favorite. I still love to rock you each night before I place you in your crib. Though you are much bigger now, I still love to feel the weight of you in my hands. I close my eyes as we sway back and forth, back and forth, willing my heart to remember these moments forever. The way your hair smells like cherries, your soft head tucked up under my chin. The way your mouth moves in rhythm with your pacifier. Your small, still slightly chubby fingers as they rub my arm and back. I sing to you about the moon, and God's love, and sunshine, and stars. And then I lay you down and hand you as many lovies as your little arms can hold. I stroke your hair and tell you that I love you, and you tell me 'bye bye, Mama'. Every single night. Some of my most favorite memories of the last two years for sure.

Some of my other favorite memories are of your deep and passionate love for your memink (pacifier), and how you must always have one in your mouth and an extra in your pocket (you adore pockets) for good measure. When riding in the car you must have a hand to hold. Usually Emma's, sometimes Kate's. We buckle you in, and out go your chubby fingers searching for someone to hold them. It melts my heart. Your favorite thing in this world? Sports balls. Of any kind. You can name every sport when you see it, and know what each ball is supposed to do or how it is to be thrown or kicked. At two years old you can already dribble a basketball. It makes your daddy so proud! You love to be outside, and walking through puddles in your cowboy boots is a favorite. Cheese, yogurt, fruit (grapes, apples, and blueberries), and peanut butter (you prefer to eat it by the spoonful, rather than in sandwich form) are your favorite nacks, as you call them (snacks). You love to laugh and dance! Your silliness is contagious.

On Tuesday, we celebrated you with a Mickey Mouse themed birthday supper. Both sets of your grandparents came and we had pizza, grapes, and salad. You loved playing with the balloons! You tossed them into the air and caught them over and over again. You got a red bike, a bouncy ball, books, and an Elmo backpack amongst other things. You didn't want anyone else touching your presents, so you tried to carry them all while riding your bike around the dining table! So funny! Lucky for you, since you are the baby, your sisters usually wind up letting you have your way. Some might call you spoiled, we call you very much loved. After our guests left, we pulled you and your sisters up onto our bed and told you all of your last gift. A trip to Disney World in less than two weeks! You screamed in excitement along with your sisters, even though you had no clue what any of it meant. You were just happy because they were happy!

Jack, my life is better because you are in it. You make the hard days bearable, and the happy days shine! I thank God every single day for letting me be your Mama. He gave you to me at just the right time. I have loved every moment of these last two years with you, and I pray for a lifetime more. Happy 2nd Birthday, my little man!

Love, Mama

Snapshots From a Birthday Supper