Friday, September 24, 2010


if you're stopping by from moneysavingmom, welcome. sit back and take a look around. i hope you enjoy our blessed brand of craziness.

Monday, September 13, 2010


that's the sound of my brain taking a picture. i've been having to take a lot of brain pictures lately because our camera is broken. (that's actually what inspired my last post, because i never appreciate our camera until the battery is dead or now, broken. it's a luxury, not a necessity to have a nice camera. when i take things out of the necessity category, it makes me realize how really very blessed i am.)

so if my camera were working, these would be the pictures i would post.

-my boys "reading" on top of the submarine tim built them out of boxes. they were frighteningly quiet out in the family room so i peeked around the corner to see them perched atop the U.S.S Peter T. Hooper. *click*

-the U.S.S. Peter T. Hooper herself, in all her glory. *click*

-the sand castles we built in the sandbox this morning. it was a glorious morning and we soaked it up outside. when we got our new fridge i kept the door shelfy box things from the old fridge (since i new it was going to get trashed :( i figured i could at least repurpose something out of the deal.) one of the shelfy box things got sent to the sandbox and it makes great bricks. now, don't let your imagination get too carried away. i didn't make a sandcastle out of shoe box sized bricks (yet!), but they did have multiple levels and i was pretty proud. *click*

-our feet and hands after playing in the sandbox. we were grubby little puppies when all was said and done. thinking about it just now, i dread looking in the bath tub. but at least it was a happy mess. *click*

-seven kiddos sitting against our deck rail eating dessert with evening sun making them glow. we were blessed with the wonderful company of three momma friends last night and their nine children. beautiful chaos! at one point, i think there was ten kiddos, from ages 7 down to 9 months, in the sandbox. *click*click*

-house projects i have been working on, including our new! kitchen! i've been trying to stream line and organize this summer (and the last three years) to make our house a more peaceful home. i really hate clutter. it stresses me out and turns me into a very bad wife, mother, and person. the rub is that tim and i are both accumulators and we have two small children. stuff can take over very quickly around here. it's a work in progress, but with some serious inspiration from the Holy Spirit and help from my momma, i'm happy with my results. *click*click*click* and *click* (the kitchen required a few extra pictures : )

well, that sums up life around here. hope you enjoyed the pictures. (bah ha ha ha ha. i crack myself up.)

here's a couple pics from the archives because this is really were i take a lot of my pictures-at the table, were my boys hold still, if only for a little bit.

sticking out his tongue for pictures is in his genes.

"an empty bowl doesn't count, max, if you've just moved all of your breakfast to another bowl."

the look that will take him far in life.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

when it's gone

(not that it was all that difficult, but i'm pretty proud of myself for figuring out how to embed a video. techno nerd i am not.)

i really like this song and video. maybe i feel a connection with them because i know how to do that cup rhythm. (okay, i feel no connection-i just wanted to brag that i can do that cup thing.) the boys really enjoy watching it as well. it is the anthem for all the things that i take for granted until they are gone.

-sunshine. fall sunshine is so melancholy for me because i know it will soon be gone and i know that i have not soaked up enough of it.

-max going to sleep easily. (although even before, "easily" was a relative term.) he figured out how to get out of his crib and the pack 'n' play is no barrier either. but we'll find a new normal eventually. growing pains.

-tim. we, but most especially myself, soooo took our time together for granted. a year ago, i'd get cranky when tim got home at six, knowing that if he hadn't goofed around at work, he could have been home by five. now 7:30 feels like bliss and a day off is like the queen's birthday!

-$$$$$. i really can't complain about money. we have a home. cars. food. money in the bank. and other than our home, no debt. but wow. if i could go back three years and give myself a good throttling, i could have used some attitude adjustment. even then, i knew in the grand scheme of things we were doing well, but on the day to day of life, i whined about things being tight. things are way tighter now with tim's job transition, but things will get better. so instead of whining about our new budget, i've been trying to focus on the freedoms that we have. the freedom from debt that has allowed us to take a much lower paying job with huge potential for growth. a job that my husband really loves instead of one that causes major stress and anxiety. and freedom that, although things are tight, i don't have to drop my boys off at daycare and go to work full time.

-uninterrupted sleep!!! i don't think anybody appreciates this until it's gone. even more than uninterrupted sleep, what i really miss is the ability to sleep in. when we were first married, it was the norm for us to wake up after 11am on the weekends. (well, i would wake up sooner, but go back to sleep several times to try to keep pace with ol timmy boy, a man who's sleeping skillz never cease to amaze me!) we are both night owls, which is not conducive to boys who are wild and ready to go the minute they wake up.

i could go on and on. i have a very ungrateful heart. i hate it sooo much and i hate it when i see it in ben. always wanting more or what others have. i often pray for a grateful heart and God is slowly helping me to change.

many of the things that i am critical or ungrateful or whiney about are things that if i really wanted to, i could change. it's empowering (and humbling) to admit that many of the things that i say "i can't" to are really things that i chose not to do.

it also helps me to think of stages of life as seasons. seasons that will pass. summer really doesn't seem all that long in comparison to a whole year. and although i will be raising children for a good many more years, this very, very intense season of life with small children will soon pass. yes, hopefully God will bless us with more babies, but ben and max won't always be so demanding and will hopefully, eventually, be *gasp* dare i say it* helpful. i look forward to lovingly enslaving my children with yard and house work. and just like i look back and wish i would have enjoyed summer more fully, i'm sure i will look back and miss my babies. (although i try to take pictures and videos of the horrid tantrums so that i won't forget what life was really like instead of just looking at pictures of smiling cherubs.)

when i was a kid, one sunday after lunch my dad read us a story with a poem. it has always stayed with me, but i think of it more often now, with the joy and frustration that fills my days. the poem itself is kind of cheesey in my opinion, but what really stayed with me was the context of the poem. although he didn't write the poem, the guy who shared the poem-the guy the story was about that my dad was reading to us, was a man who had no family, who lived in a home for lepers, and had lost his eyesight and was significantly crippled by leprosy, prayed the poem.

I've never made a fortune
and it's probably too late now.
But I don't worry about that much,
I'm happy anyhow.

And as I go along life's way,
I'm reaping better than I sowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.

I don't have a lot of riches,
and sometimes the going's tough.
But I've got loved ones around me,
and that makes me rich enough.

I thank God for his blessings,
and the mercies He's bestowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'cause my cup has overflowed.

I remember times when things went wrong,
My faith wore somewhat thin.
But all at once the dark clouds broke,
and the sun peeped through again.

So God, help me not to gripe about
the tough rows that I've hoed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.

If God gives me strength and courage,
when the way grows steep and rough.
I'll not ask for other blessings,
I'm already blessed enough.

And may I never be too busy,
to help others bear their loads.
Then I'll keep drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.

Like i said, it's not my style of poetry, but if a man who is blind and crippled feels like he is drinking from his saucer, i think i can find a few things to be grateful for too.