a glance into one of our struggles

At the beginning of the month, I referenced a tough time we've been going through in this post.  Honestly, I never imagined that I'd be able to post details about it so soon.  But for the time being, that trial is over, so I'd like to fill you in and give praise to God for all of it--the good and bad.

There may be a moment or two as you're reading where you will begin to feel sorry for us, but please realize that's not my goal.  If I were wanting to manipulate you and tug on your heartstrings, I would write books, not an "about my life" blog.

It's hard to say exactly when our financial difficulties started.  Maybe back when we got married.  There has yet to be a time in our 3+ years of marriage that we weren't wondering how we would pay the next bill.  Even through the times that we both had jobs (Mark had 2...technically 3), it just never seemed to be enough, despite our best efforts.

That difficulty hit a new level a month or 2 after Roscoe was born.  Mark was owed the 2nd half of his enlistment bonus, and we received word that the paperwork had been submitted and the bonus was on its way--we should see in within the next week.  So, given that word, we put his 4runner in the shop for some much needed work.  Knowing we'd have the money within the week, we charged it (this was our first credit card purchase.  We hadn't owned one before this because we didn't want to get caught up in debt.  But once we had a baby, we figured it'd be smart to have one for the emergency fallback).

Mark received an email shortly after that telling him that the status of his bonus was on hold because it needed to be reviewed.  If you remember, way back in January when I started this blog, Mark was in PA reclassing for the sake of his unit.  (Here's a post to jog your memory.)  He agreed to do that as long as it didn't mess up his bonus.  Well, sparing a lot of details, it did mess up his bonus.  So much so that in the span of 3 days, we went from expecting the other half of his bonus within a week to not only not receiving it, but also having to pay back the other half he'd received years ago.  They were saying his reclassing was a "breech of contract."  I don't feel it necessary to give the amount on the internet, but let's just say it was enough to make me want to carve out my own cave in the mountains and hide forever.

At the same time, we hit a spell of reduced income that we thought might only last a month or two.  Well, it's lasted up to the present.

So for the past 8+ months, though we've always felt a struggle financially, we've been suffocating.  It was like every time we almost got up for air, we got 1 glorious second to gasp it in and then we were fighting again.  We tried to adopt a new posture through it, not one of "help us out here God!" but "help us praise you now!"  That was so difficult.  But we learned that what money we have is not ours anyway.  What God has given us is his already.  It made the situation easier to swallow because I felt not attacked by God, but like he was suffering through right beside us.

But let me tell you on a shallow level, it's been hard.  Pinterest, for example.  Not having any extra money definitely made me feel a desire to craft and repurpose.  But I always needed something: a glue gun, mod podge, scrapbook paper,  buttons, fabric.  This was during the time that I was going through the house and old coats and pockets to see what I could add to our change jar so I could go get dinner.  (Remember, that's not me manipulating you, it's just the facts.)  Going into the gas station with $4 in quarters to get some gas, stuff like that.

BUT... Our power was never shut off, neither was our water (though both came close).  Our mortgage was being paid.  We were eating.  It may have been the poor man's meals, but we were eating.  God was using people and miracles on a daily basis to provide us with what we needed to make it through that day...just that one.  Never days in advance.  One day at a time.  We would go to bed uncertain of what the next day would hold, and when we got up, we were scared, but simultaneously comforted by the fact that in one hand God held us, and in his other he sifted through what he would allow us to face.

(If you're currently thinking, Honey, this is why you hate spending money, yes.  You're right.  That's a big part of it.  But I couldn't hint to it in that post now, could I?) :)

So back to the bonus.  Mark had been working on it, trying to request that at the very least, we not be forced to pay back the bonus he'd already received, even if it meant the other half would still be gone forever.  We had people working for us, trying the best that they could to accommodate these requests.  But we were told that there was a lot of paperwork going through the hands of the men who would be deciding these matters, so we shouldn't expect to hear anything about the status of it until September 2012.

Fast forward to this past Friday.  If you're still with me, hang tight.  This is the part where my praise hands go up in the air.  We had been able to budget a small amount for family and people whose names we had drawn for Christmas.  But we didn't have the money til Friday.  Hence the reason I had to do all the shopping blitz-style.  Mark offered to take Roscoe from me during his lunch so that I could get some things accomplished faster and with ease (isn't my man great?).  On the way back to pick up Roscoe, I called the bank account to see if there was enough money in there for me to get lunch.  I really didn't want to dip into the Christmas money for that, but I was hungry.  As my brain interpreted the numbers, what I heard the automated voice on the other end say was "Your available balance is 'not enough for you to get lunch'"  I was dejectedly taking the phone away from my ear when I heard the voice continue "a direct deposit of..." (imagine my eyes growing in confusion when I heard this) "a direct deposit of 'more money than your brain can register at this moment' will be deposited on Wednesday, December 28th."

I about wrecked.  I was 4 minutes away from picking up Roscoe from Mark, and I was pretty sure I had just heard that pretend person (who had mocked me time and time again) tell me in an indirect, but very vivid way, that Mark's bonus was going to be deposited in our account.  Let me tell you, that was the longest 4 minute ride of my life.  I felt as if every pore in my body was exuding excitement so quickly that I was going to explode like a volcano.  But I was driving so I knew I couldn't do that.  And I had to wait til I could see Mark's reaction face-to-face.  I arrived and held the phone up to Mark's ear.  He started to pull away (as if to say, "don't remind me what our balance is"), but I started doing a happy dance and held up a finger so he knew to keep listening.  His eyes repeatedly went through cyles of confusion, wonder, excitement, disbelief, and relief.  We both stood there and kissed and hugged (and kissed and hugged Roscoe, who had no clue what was going on).  Once I came back down to the earth for long enough to realize I still had Christmas shopping to do, I peeled myself away from Mark and sent him happily back into work.

So, this morning, we paid every bill.  Including paying off our credit card.  Just writing that makes me tear up.  All along the way, God's been taking care of us.  Sometimes I kept the thermostat set a bit lower than normal and bundled up me and Roscoe just to try to make a difference.  Sometimes we ate ramen for meals multiple nights in a row.  Sometimes I was driving on an empty gas tank not certain how much further I could go.  But through it all, as tough as it was, God's had us.

I'm not saying that we'll never again encounter financial struggles.  It could very well be that this will be a constant struggle all our lives.  If that's the case, we just hope to be able to say that in good times and bad, we had our hands up in praise to the one who orchestrated every bit of it.

This Christmas

The past few days have been absolutely crazy.  I'm sure that's applicable for everyone.  But for whatever reason, this Christmas season seemed way busier than any I remember.

I'm so sad that I don't have any pictures for show from this weekend (I've GOT to get some more batteries for the camera).  We were able to spend some good time on Christmas eve with Mark's family here at our house.  They came over in the afternoon and stayed for dinner and a fire.  Christmas day was hectic.  I spent all morning in the kitchen cooking a few dishes and then we hung out with friends for the day... til 2 am.  Finally, last night we spent the evening with my family for dinner and a gift exchange.  It was definitely an on-the-go kind of Christmas.

That was kind of weird for me, because I'm used to Christmas day (and typically the days surrounding it) being completely relaxing.  But it was still so good to see family and friends.

On a slightly different note, Mark and I have been thinking a lot lately about the heart behind the giving.  I love giving gifts, all through the year.  There is a part of me that hates the commercialism of Christmas, but since I love buying and wrapping and giving gifts, there's another part of me that LOVES Christmas.  (Mark is a scrooge, and he admits to this.  Every year he says "Christmas is cancelled."  You can go ahead and feel sorry for Roscoe.)  But I hate the "obligatory" feeling when someone gets you something and you feel you must buy in return, putting hours into searching for something for someone only to find out they didn't like what you got them, being scrutinized by someone as they anxiously watch you open a present, etc.  It all just seems like a bunch of unnecessary pressure.  If I buy you a gift, don't feel like you must give one in return.  And if I receive a gift, I am going to be grateful for your thoughtfulness regardless of whether I liked it.  And as I open a present from you, please don't worry or feel the need to give disclaimers in case I don't like it (although I fully understand that angst, I'm still working on this one).

Maybe those feelings come from remembering Christmases that were pretty slim.  Because there were times I got phone calls from friends who wanted to tell me about the more than a dozen gifts they got, when each of my brothers and I had gotten 2 or 3 (which, even then, I knew was more than many people get).  "Oh, but I didn't get this, which is what I really wanted."  I would be so mad at those kind of statements.  My mom and dad had put everything they could into Christmas (and still do).  Some years it was more than others, some years less.

As far back as I can remember, my family had practiced what we call "circes" (pronounced sir-sees).  It's the seeing-a-gift-so-and-so-would-love-while-you're-not-even-looking-for-anything-for-them thing.  Sometimes it even happens while you're at the grocery store.  Those are great.  Out of the blue and not expected.  It's the best surprise.

Mark and I are wondering about how possible it would be to try a "no-gift" Christmas one year.  Where you spend time with family and friends without the pressure of the gifts.  (No, I'm not saying we're never going to buy Roscoe Christmas presents.)  Or, as my mom suggested, use the money you would spend on each other and compile it to adopt a family who won't be getting anything.

Hmmm.... I wish I could read what you're thinking right now.

do i have to spend it?

This one's for the stay at home mommies out there, or the stay at home daddies, or the stay at home person, or in general anyone who considers him/herself a dependent, vegging off someone else's income.

I HATE spending money.  I've always been somewhat frugal and cautious with my spending (except when I was growing up and I got a $5 allowance every Saturday--which I immediately spent on coke and candy at the gas station on the way to visit grandmommy and granddaddy).  But I've noticed a severe hatred of spending money that has developed.  I don't know when it developed.  It just did.  And money?  I hate spending it.  (Did you catch that?)  Even on necessary things, like, oh say..... gas and food.  You know, things you have to have.  I've even caught myself rationing out toiletries because I refused to have to go buy more (contact solution, shampoo, etc) too soon.

Well, today I spent more than I have in the past 2 months combined (don't get alarmed, that's really not that much).  There was Christmas shopping on multiple levels: gifts, food for get-togethers, uh....ok, maybe only 2 levels.  Mark had given me a certain amount last night for this reason.  And I used it.  Because it's money.  And you spend money.  But after I got home from the grocery store tonight I was somewhat depressed at the amount I had spent.

I confessed to Mark my severe hatred of money-spending and asked if maybe it was a fault of mine.  I don't hoard.  If it needs to be spent, spend.  I got that.  But not wanting to spend money on groceries?  That's wrong, isn't it?  Or....

He very quickly responded "It's because you're not working." 



*cricket*



*crickets*




*chirp, chirp*




Wow.  That was easy.  I mean, it makes complete sense once I think about it.  I'm living off someone else's income.  If that isn't the whole reason I hate spending, it's at least got to be part of it.  Ever since I started working in high school, I didn't stop until after Roscoe got here.  Working and earning money was just part of life, part of pulling my own load.

Has this been a struggle for any other moms?  What did you do to get over it? (Or did you?  Oh, please, please tell me you did.)

on the move--nothing is safe

As I write this, I'm watching Roscoe crawl all over the room/house.  It's absolutely insane how time can pass so quickly when you're not paying close attention to it.  It really doesn't feel like that long ago that I could put him in the swing while I tried to get stuff done.  Now, if I'm working hard at household duties wasting time on the internet, I must be sure to keep an eye and ear out for where the little man is.  Because his current 2 most favorite things to do are crawl into the kitchen to chew on the edge of Sherman's food dish (eww!), or into the office to splash in the dogs' water dish (double eww!).

The "King" there looks deceiving.  No, we don't prefer to put our son in onesies and such that say "I call the shots" or "boss" or anything along the lines of "even though I'm a baby I rule everything in this house."  (I hate those outfits)  But "king of cuddles" with a cute little crown-wearing frog prince?  Bring it.

(His hands have always been big.  But here they look massive.)  He loves chewing on everything.  E.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.  It's kinda cute right now, though, because he's just got those 2 bottom teeth, so he doesn't cause damage to anything.  No teeth marks...yet.  You just hear "thud, thud, thud" or "clank, clank, clank" or "ding, ding, ding" depending on what he's chewing.

I'd love to know what he's thinking as he crawls around the house.  Hearing him say "ah!" "aaa!" in various tones and levels of excitement always makes me smile.  I can't NOT smile.  But it's got me on a new level of alertness.  I knew this day would come--the day where I couldn't just set him down and go about what I was doing.  If he doesn't like where I put him, he fixes it (which can be nice, but can be terrible).  So now I'm learning to find my balance of efficiency and responsibility.

I'm just wondering, though--how did our little bitty baby transition so quickly into this "becoming a toddler" phase?

picture catch-up

  It's been a while, and I promised some pictures, and a video.


I babysat Eliot a little over a month ago and this is what happened on the car ride home.  One of those "Doh!!!!" moments when you look back and see both of them asleep.



Thankfully I managed to get them both in and down for naps without too much of a disturbance (a feat I was quite proud of).  By the way, I love how Roscoe holds on to his carseat like that.



This is rare.  Normally Roscoe is frightened by dad (why?!), but Thanksgiving morning dad got some good cuddles.



(I think it had something to do with the fact that dad gave him cheerios that morning.)



The Thanksgiving Day feast.  Look at that plate.  Roscoe ate all of that, except for the green beans in the center (for which he doesn't yet have the appropriate teeth).

 

Although he looks wide awake, this is his sleepy sign.  He grabs his blankie and holds it up to his face to cover his eyes, then he pulls it down and looks at you.  I LOVE this about him.  Possibly my favorite Roscoe-ism at the moment.

 

Our big boy, how we usually find him when we go into his room to get him up from naps

And the promised video:



popping in

I told my mom yesterday while we were hanging out that I haven't made a blog post lately because I've had nothing to write about, but that's not true.  I do have things I could say, but I know that if I did, it'd come out as "poor me, waaa waa waaaah," so I've just opted out of the blogging thing for the time being.  Suffice it to say that for the past 6+ months, Mark and I have been going through a trial that's testing the daylights out of us.  (Did I make up that phrase?)  It's a take-it-one-day-at-a-time sort of thing, and God always give just the right amount of grace needed each day to make it through, but that doesn't mean it's easy.  There've been plenty of times that we've both reached the "can this be over yet?" or "new test please!" limit, but apparently God's not ready to allow us to move on.  So we wait, trying to practice patience and trust and obedience.

Curious?

Maybe when it's over (if it ever ends) I can fill in more details, but for now, I don't feel that's relevant.

On the Roscoe front, we have:
~ crawling, army style.  He doesn't too much prefer hands and knees
~ pulling up onto EVERYTHING.  When I get him up from naps he's waiting for me standing in the corner of the crib (video to come soon)
~ owner of 2 bottom teeth
~ loves to eat
~ weighs about 21 pounds.  Not sure of the height because I haven't measured him in a while
~ still taking 2 naps a day.  he wakes up around 7, on a good day 8, and goes down for a nap at 10.  That's the best time of the day, seeing that he normally sleeps til noon.  Then he takes another around 2.  Once he's up from that he's done napping for the day.
~ he's a handful from 5 pm until bedtime at 8...every day.  If you ever think of me, do so after 5.  Usually Mark isn't home yet and those last 3 hours are the most taxing on me.

In general, he's growing up so fast.  I can't believe he'll be 10 months old in a couple weeks.  I'm sitting in the living room right now, looking over at the spot where he was born.  It seems like just yesterday that I was laboring hard, overly eager to meet him, and now we're quickly approaching his 1st birthday.  It's just surreal.

I do hope that everyone is doing well.  Please forgive me for the lack of updates, I'll try to get better.  Even if it's just about Roscoe.  Love to all!

Blog neglect

I've realized that blogging is definitely a goal to reach, not an "I'll get to it if I have time" endeavor.

So this is just me popping in to say we're still alive and well, just a bit neglectful of the blog. I'm going to try to make an effort to update more often.

If I can get good ones, pictures of the little guy's teeth coming soon!

a little crafting

I've been dying to exercise some crafting cravings I've been having lately, but a majority of the projects I've seen are ones that cost for supplies.  And to be honest, there's not an extra penny to be spent right now for us.  And if it doesn't cost, it requires sewing.  I'm just now learning, so those projects (at the moment) are out.

Finally today, I stumbled across this little beauty on pinterest.  So I robbed  Mark's dresser for an extra t-shirt.  It's a no-sew, transform-a-t-shirt-into-a-fun-vest tutorial.  So I did it and am very happy with the result.  A new item added to my wardrobe that didn't cost a penny.  Man, that feels good.  So here are the pictures of the process for me.  I messed one step up, but luckily it didn't affect the final product (and yes, even though it's not pictured, I did cut the design off the front of the shirt).

Sorry, I don't have another picture of the finished product other than the one above.  I know it could be better, but I was too excited to post this to take the time for a photo shoot, especially with a crying Roscoe letting me know his nap was over.

it doesn't have to feel important

With that last post and the shut-down of my facebook, I made it appear as if I'd be blogging every day, keeping everyone up to date on the daily pictures of Roscoe and all the exciting tidbits of our days together.

Welllll, at the moment it's not that exciting.  I stay busy with little things throughout the day and making time to blog takes effort.  When there's not much exciting going on, I find blogging difficult and resultingly unnecessary.  The day through my eyes goes something like: wake up, feed, change, play, nap, feed, change, clean, nap, feed, errands, change, nap, cook, feed, put to bed. 

I find it ironic that I used to be the first to defend the mother who was feeling like she didn't have an important job/contribution.  Of course you do!!!  Are you kidding?!  You've got the most important AND most challenging job in the world!  Fast forward a decade or so and I would have never guessed that I should have been preaching to myself.

Please don't misunderstand, I love our little Roscoe Porter  more than my feeble words can communicate.  I just never expected to struggle on a daily basis with the mundane-ness of stay-at-home-motherhood.  But I'm not delirious enough to think that this struggle will get easier once I can communicate with Roscoe (I've got friends and family ahead of me as proof that that's not true!)  However, the day in/day out caring for a baby who can't live without my help definitely doesn't FEEL like anything important.  I keep reminding myself that this everyday life is missional, kingdom work.  But I feel things so deeply, throw myself so fully into everything I do, that I want the important things to FEEL like they're important.  So if I don't get that vibe, the struggle begins. 

This is why I'm thankful that our faith is not based on our feelings.  They're so misleading and fickle.  Still training myself daily to place my hope and identity in Christ.  But that's soooo much easier said than done.

behind the shutdown

I feel kind of funny dedicating an entire post to defending/explaining my reasons for shutting down my facebook page, but it's kind of hard to explain the reasons on facebook when I no longer have a facebook.  So hopefully the curious are here reading to find out.

These are not in order of importance

1)  I wasted too much time.  At any given moment of any given day, I was logged on to facebook on the computer and/or my iPod.  There were times when I'd be spending the day with family, or I'd be busy with life, only to find myself tethered to a device hours later to catch up on the status updates that I had missed.  Even if nothing interested me, it was a checklist mentality.  I had to see everything in the news feed.  It was controlling me.

2)  I got tired of the changes and resulting news feed.  I'm with everyone on the "leave it the way it is" and "why change a good thing?" complaints.  But at the same time, it was annoying to see only updates about why people liked/didn't like the change.

3)  It simplifies things.  Mark and I have been going through a lot of changes in the past year or so, towards a simpler way of life.  Back to gardening and such.  We use cloth diapers for Roscoe.  We don't own a TV (although we've never had one).  Weeding out facebook seemed appropriate right now.

4)  Facebook doesn't need me.  Not like you have to be needed to have social networking.  I did enjoy the contact with people and the ease of updating everyone on our life.  But facebook doesn't care what the individual user wants.  It doesn't matter if 95% of their users dislike what they're doing, they are going to do it anyway.

5)  We've only seen the beginning of the changes that will be made.  And at least for now, I don't want to go through another round of frustration.

6)  Motives behind having facebook.  For me, I would spend time trying to think up the best status or position Roscoe in the best way for the best picture to get the most comments/likes.  That's just not necessary.  I need to get away from the people pleasing craving.

7)  I could never get facebook to show me the updates I wanted.  I really didn't care about half of what was in the feed, but no matter what I tried, they would only put on my feed what they wanted.  You can't control it as much as you think you can.  Because of that, I felt imprisoned by it.  (Why keep something you don't like?)

It may seem like I'm treating it too seriously.  I probably am.   There's more to life than facebook.  And if I'm itching to get back to a computer or a place with a wireless connection so I can log in on my iPod, then I'm the one with the problem.

I will miss seeing updates from family and friends who are far away.  And who knows, this may not be a permanent thing, but for now, at least this week, I need to step back and not let something as trivial as facebook be such a big and controlling part of my life.

book signing

This past Saturday, my mom and I went to a book signing for Emily Freeman's new book, Grace for the Good Girl.  Her sister (who calls herself "the nester") was hosting the shower. (How's that for enough links to keep you busy for a few minutes?)

It went like this: I follow the nester's blog, and mom follows Emily's blog.  I saw on the nester's page that she was hosting a book signing party for Emily, and that anyone could RSVP by email.  Mom had been reading Emily's blog and had purchased the book, read it, and linked a video to facebook about it.  From how it appeared over the internet, my mom really enjoyed the book, so I figured the book signing was worth mentioning.  Although (and you have to know my mother to understand this), I had a feeling it wouldn't go anywhere.  The last thing I expected my mom to want to do was go to a house she'd never been to owned by a person she'd never met (or head of) to get a book signed by another someone she didn't know.  But upon asking, she immediately said yes.  Go mom!

So mom and I took off last Friday for an overnight trip in Charlotte.  The whole trip turned out to be very refreshing and fun, filled with relaxation at the hotel as well as shopping (as if that wouldn't be included).  Roscoe was very well behaved.  And that little booger....... as soon as we walked into the estrogen-filled house for the signing, he went crazy.  Seriously, his eyes lit up and he was all smiles, reaching for girls and smiling at everyone and pretty much just being the little heartthrob of the event for the time we were there.

I haven't read this book yet, but my mom says it's incredible, to the point that she's wondering if Emily followed her around for a case study for the book.  I'm excited to read it once I'm finished with my current book.

Oh, and check it out.... Mom and Roscoe (and my jelly belly) made it into the pictures on the nester's post-party blog update.

finding contentment

I struggle with the balance between transparency and complaining.  I sincerely don't want to come across as a martyr or complainer in posts where I'm trying to be open.  So with that disclaimer, I'll share something that I've been dealing with for the past month or so.  It is closely related to the post I made recently about being "tied down" to home.

Mark and I were blessed with the ability to buy a house in January 2010.  This house is about 890 sq ft, 3 bed, 1 bath.  As you can probably imagine, fitting 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, a kitchen and a living room in 890 sq ft makes things a little cramped.  Our room fits our bed (a king sized Mark got for FREE before we met), 2 nightstands, and his dresser.  My dresser is in Roscoe's room, along with some bookshelves, a papasan chair (that doesn't fit in the living room), and his dresser and crib.  The other bedroom is the office/dog's room.  Until we get Mark's shed together where he can put his tools, that bedroom is a junk room of sorts.

Here's the best way for me to describe the house as it stands right now (as far as decorated and put together)..........  Any of you understand what I mean when I say "carpenter's house?"  There's a big tradeoff you make when you have a handy man who can fix anything.  You're house is always in a state of repair.  I'm NOT putting Mark down with this, it's just the way it works out.  After all, carpenters spend the day working, right?  Repairing people's houses and making money off that.  When they get home, they usually don't have the time or energy to fix something in the house they live in, and I can't blame them!!!  Not only that, but I can't pay Mark to work on our house (as nice as that would be), so he's just got to get materials here when he can, piecing things together little by little.

So our hallway has gone through a year and a half long transition from carpeted, crappy drywall/trim to hardwoods, new drywall, and (what's in the process of ) new trim around the doors.  But not all the doors have trim.  We knocked out a hole in the wall between the kitchen and living room to open things up a bit (which we LOVE).  That's still not all trimmed out.

Here's the struggle:  I am simultaneously thankful for the fact that God gave us the ability as young twenty-somethings to buy a house, and discontent with the fact that it's not the most beautifully decorated or put together.

Where this struggle stems from, I have yet to figure out.  I'm not sure if it's a my wanting to appear a certain way (to people) or if it's just my perfectionism manifesting itself in a desire for everything to be orderly (for myself).  Even in a small house, it's possible to walk in and feel this cozy, magazine-like feeling about the way the house is put together and decorated.  But for different reasons, ours can't be like that right now.  I know that in the grand scheme of things, this is not a big deal.  It doesn't even show up on the radar of things that matter.  But for some reason, I struggle with wanting that perfection, to the point of giving disclaimers when people come over.  Why do I need to do that?!  We have a house, a roof over our heads, a place the sleep, a great mortgage for a couple starting out.  Sure, add another child in a couple years and this place will feel really small (in fact, it's already starting to with Roscoe crawling around).  But it's way more than we need or deserve.

Why can't my heart grasp onto what Paul says in Philippians 4:11-13

.... Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.  I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.  In any and every circunstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

sweet sleep

I was putting laundry away yesterday and walked into Roscoe's room to find this...  (All I had close to me for a camera was my phone, hence the poor picture quality)

How is it that he gets so big so fast?  It doesn't seem long ago that I was walking into that room and seeing the itty bitty guy all the way in the corner

I love taking a peek at a sleeping baby.  It's like a medicine.

table rock

The hike Friday was beautiful.  It didn't feel too hot, and the humidity wasn't too high either.  So aside from the fact that I was more out of shape for this hike than any other, it was a great time.  Thankfully, on the way up Beka was telling me a story (Mark was way ahead), so I didn't have to worry about saying much back.  I didn't have the spare breath!

Aside from the very beginning and a few places towards the top, the entire hike looks like the picture to the right.  There are a lot of rocks acting as steps.  The trail to the top is a little over 3.5 miles.  For this mama whose daily exercise consists of lifting a baby, pictures like this are the reason my calf muscles are still cursing me today.

I snapped the picture below left because I love when you can see tree roots scatter out above ground.

Pictures don't do it justice, but below right is another example of the ascending terrain. 

The comment was made that you realize how small you really are when you're looking out from the top of a mountain.

The battery for the camera died before I got a picture of the tree I really wanted (go figure!), but this can suffice.  The beginning of the changing of leaves.  To me it was more rewarding than ever for this to be one of the first trees to see changing colors, because it was towards the top of the mountain.  None at the bottom were like this.


So aside from the physical exertion that had us (excluding Mark the Machine) dying at the end, this was such a wonderful day.  And to be honest, even the pain involved was worth it.  Mark and I are already planning another trip in November, but this time with another couple, one of whom does not like hiking at all.  So he'll be tasked with staying back at the shelter preparing a grilled feast for us hikers upon our return.

a labor day hike

Tomorrow Mark and I will be going on an early labor day hike with Beka, his 1st cousin once removed.  (Does anyone else even know what that means anymore?)  We're leaving the little guy behind.  I'm kinda like YEEHAAAWWWW......... WAAAAAAHHH.......... WEEEEEEEEE..... *sniff sniff*......... BRING IT ON!!!!!! about that.  Follow those emotions.  I know some of you understand them.

Honestly, I'm wicked excited about this.  Seeing that I had to take over a week to save up enough milk for Roscoe for the duration that we'll be gone, I've been thinking about it every day now and I'm PUMPED. (pun.  intended.)

But there's that other side of me that realizes I've never spent more than a couple hours away from him.  This is going to be weird.

Hopefully Mark and Beka will be able to put up with me, because I have a feeling that I'm going to be extremely giddy being away from the life I talked about yesterday.  That is, until we get approximately .5 miles into the hike and it hits me that Mark and Beka are in way. better. shape. than I am.  *sigh*

Check in later for pictures.

what i wasn't prepared for

There were a lot of physical things about motherhood that I felt well-prepared for when Roscoe was born.  What the woman's body goes through during pregnancy, labor/delivery, post-partum, what to expect when nursing a baby, etc.  I spent hours and hours researching those things.  I didn't go through any post-partum depression or anything, and for the most part, really tried my best to enjoy the transition.

But one thing I wasn't at all prepared for--and really didn't even give a passing thought to--was what it was going to be like being "grounded."

A month or 2 ago I figured up that in the first 6 months of the year, Mark had been gone for a total of 3 months.  All of those trips were spaced out and for military training of one form or another.  That wasn't always easy, but it was definitely do-able.  Now he's planning to take a trip up to Maine in October.  This is a good thing.  It's for pure enjoyment.  After months (literally) with only 3 days off (that I can remember), it'll be good for him to step away from all forms of work and relax at his family's camp.

But (with the disclaimer that I in no way begrudge him this time), I can't help but be extremely jealous and slightly whiny at the fact that he gets to take a trip by himself.  That whiny side of me says "but you're aaaaaalways gone.  Can't it be my turn?"  But it hit me when we were discussing the logistics of the trip that I can't do what he's doing.  Even if I wanted to right now, I can't just step away from life and take a trip by myself.  There's a baby who's still dependent on me primarily for nourishment.  And he's pretty attached, too. 

That's when I start thinking through what I do.  Pretty much every day, wake up, take care of Roscoe, let the dogs out and feed them, start the load of diapers, tend to Roscoe a little more, tell the dogs to stop fighting, put Roscoe down for a nap, put the dogs outside, go hang the diapers outside to dry, wash dishes, wash laundry, clean the house, feed and tend to Roscoe again, get everything in order for dinner, play with Roscoe a little, put him down for an afternoon nap....... blah blah blah.  The list goes on.

Don't misunderstand me, I'm not saying "staying at home with Roscoe is a drag and I wish we hadn't had him."  But I most definitely wasn't prepared for the utter mundane-ness of being at home the same way every day.  If there are no groceries to buy or if there's no convenient time for a walk in the park, then I don't even get to see anything interesting... like a traffic jam.  Yes, something most people find annoying would probably entertain me a little.

My head knows to look for the gospel in every situation, but sometimes it's hard for to me speak it to myself in the midst of my own situation.  It's as if (at least in my mind) motherhood is best represented by a coin.  There's the side with all the joys and excitement, but also the side that represents confinement.  You can't just pick one, it's all wrapped up in the same package.

I was talking to Beth about this the other day, telling her that it's something I haven't felt prepared for in being a mother.  And she told me you can't really prepare yourself for it.  It's just something you deal with when you get to it.  I'm sure that's like a lot of things in parenting.  Each stage brings its own joys and heartaches.  I guess that's all part of the excitement of the journey.

For now I'm going to try to look at the whole picture, and remember that this one season of my life isn't representative of the whole.

this just in: walnuts are illegal drugs

I had to pop on here very quickly to share a link to an article from a friend.  My motivation behind it is predominantly anger, because of the relationship between the FDA and the big pharmacy industry.  Since "big pharma" funds the FDA millions of dollars a year to keep them afloat (I've read figures at a minimum of 300 million), it's no wonder our food industry is so messed up, and consequently our health as Americans.  After all, if the FDA can put "heart healthy" on a box of 100-calorie Oreos, then after years and years of our eating all those partially hydrogenated oils and high fructose corn syrup, we'll definitely be needing some medicines.

OR, we could opt for eating raw, natural foods, and be healthier for it.  But that's too difficult, isn't it?

Anyway, the link.  http://www.foodrenegade.com/did-know-walnuts-illegal-drugs/

Please take the time to read it, if nothing else than to just be more educated.  I'm not asking everyone to immediately stop shopping where they're shopping (even though that'd be great!), I at least want everyone to be more aware.  Maybe in the long run that awareness will lead to action.

Buy local foods, support local farms, grow your own garden, and don't just accept what you hear from the FDA as true.  Contrary to popular belief, they're not out to protect us.

on poop

I think about this blog often.  I enjoy writing, but honestly feel like my days are limited to thoughts on poop, spit, and the occasional nap.  When I'm not communicating with a baby, I'm usually cleaning the house, washing laundry, doing the cloth diaper thing, etc.

I don't really feel starved for community.  We've got some awesome friends, among whom are other mothers going through the same mundane thing every day.  I just desire to come up with something worth "musing" over.  But now I feel limited to just updating on Roscoe.  That's what my life is right now (not to be confused with "that's my identity."  Ah!!!  There's a post!).

So with that in mind, a little on poop:

Roscoe recently started eating solids.  And by solids, I mean solid. food.  Not smushed up, pureed, already chewed stuff.  He had been showing an interest in mine and Mark's food for about a week.  After a while I would give him something when he reached for it.  The confused look on his face when he realized that he wasn't receiving liquid in his mouth was priceless.  But he immediately took to it and has been enjoying eating with us.  It's not a religious thing yet, he still primarily breastfeeds.  But what he decides to eat in the way of solids is up to him.  It's fun to watch him discover foods, and healthy ones at that!!

But with the solid food comes the solid poop.  I've made a promise to myself to not take the breastmilk poop for granted with the next child (especially with the cloth diapering)!  Without going into too much description of this topic, let me just say it's a lot less hassle, and it doesn't stink!  But this morning alone, I've already changed 3 diapers.  Of those 3 diapers, 3 of them have consisted of poop.  Stinky, brick-like poop.  Life would be a lot easier if I had more than 10 cloth diapers.  Currently taking donations for the cloth diaper fund.

6 months

Sorry it's a day late....

Roscoe is now 6 months old!  Something about this month is extra celebratory for me, just because it's half a year.  Double the time that he has been breathing our oxygen and he'll be 1 year old.  Little buddy getting so big....

What's he up to?
- finger chewing, gnawing on anything he can get his hands on
- increased fascination with the dogs (which sherman LOVES)
- rolling over like crazy, scootching around (so much so that it doesn't matter how you lay him down to sleep anymore.  He moves as soon as your hands are off of him)... but not yet crawling
- becoming more interested in whatever we're doing (he loves watching me cook, watering the garden and flower beds with Mark...)
- growing even taller.  I already had to bump up the height of the exersaucer for him.  He was only in the shortest setting for a couple weeks
- playful.  Just very excitedly count "One..... Two!........ THREE!!......." and he'll break out into a smile before you even toss him into the air.  He loves that number 3!
- reaching for people, with big open wide-stretched arms
- becoming very interested in what we eat.  The other night we sat him at the table with us and gave him a slice of potato to gnaw on.  He loved it, but didn't really ingest much.  He'll get the hang of it soon enough, on his time.
- loves books





Eliot and Roscoe (10 months apart)

goofy face



start 'em young!

this was at 5 months old, i just couldn't resist adding it

is he strong because i moved the woodstove while pregnant?

In case you never read about that, find it here.

One of the first things that shocked us about Roscoe was when he was 12 days old.  He was mad, screaming and pitching a fit in Mark's arms.  Mark was sitting in the recliner trying to hold Roscoe to his chest to calm him down and Roscoe stiffened up and stood up on Mark.  Arms straight out pushing away from Mark, legs strong, standing.  That lasted a good 5-8 seconds... At 12 days old.  We were amazed.

Roscoe has always shown unusual strength for his age, especially when it comes to his leg muscles.  Sometimes, he just isn't happy sitting or lying down, but wrap his hands around your fingers so he can pull himself up to stand, and the smile erupts.

This week he has shown a fascination with the blanket on the back of our couch.  It's an afghan a friend made for us as a wedding gift.  Roscoe loves weaving his fingers through the yarn and attempting to eat it.  He was practically climbing the couch trying to get to the top day before yesterday, but of course that was with assistance.

Today, however, he scooted down the couch away from me, so I let him go.  And he gave me a good 30 seconds to a minute to try to capture this picture with my phone (it's the only camera I had near me).

Keep in mind that Roscoe is now 5 1/2 months old.  If you feel led to say a prayer for me, I wouldn't mind.  Time to put my seat belt on....things are about to get interesting.

time for change

This post is dedicated to all of you who join me in being critics of pretty much everything.  I hope you get to eat your words as well.

Before being a mom, I had always said that I didn't understand why new parents felt the need to have the baby in a bassinet in the bedroom.  I knew the practicality of just going to the end of the bed to get the baby for nighttime feedings (instead of having to go to a different room), but honestly, could it have made that much of a difference?

Before Roscoe was born, my sister-in-law offered to let me use the bassinet her dad built for her children.  I was going to turn it down because my cynical self figured Roscoe would start out in his bedroom.  Mark convinced me to take her up on the offer for the sake of convenience.

Well....long story short, Mark had asked me at the beginning of the summer when I was planning on moving Roscoe to his bedroom.  My response: "After you take your last trip in July."  That was an easy way to postpone moving him, right?  I enjoyed knowing Roscoe was in the room with me while his Mark was out of town for those 9 weeks, and he couldn't blame me.

So..... Mark got back from that trip on Sunday.

Aaaaand...... The little guy's still in our room.  I'm still not ready for him to sleep across the hall at night.

Sheesh.

Any moms out there sympathize with me?  Why is this of all things a difficult transition to make?

can it really be 5 months?

It's hard to believe this post is about the little guy being 5 months old today.  2 months?  I could believe that.... But 5?!

So what's Roscoe up to at 5 months? 
-He's a mover.  Almost non stop motion.  High metabolism like his dad?  Most likely.  Consequently, he's a long a lean dude.
-He takes *maybe* 2 good naps a day in his crib.  If we're lucky.  If not, he takes multiple 20-30 minute catnaps.
-He loves sucking his finger and thumb together.  He uses his thumb to push his finger up a little and sucks both of those simultaneously, eliminating our need for pacifiers (thanks, bub!)
-He eats still exclusively breast milk.  He's not showing any desire for anything else and I see no need to force it on him just because of his age.  That time will come, and we're both enjoying nursing (not to mention the fact that it's so incredibly good for him).
-He loves, loves, loves his daddy!  Mark will often get double the smiles and giggles and squeals that I do from Roscoe.  I love watching the 2 of them together.
-He can now roll over, all the way around.  Yesterday he started out lying on his back and ended up on his tummy and back to his back again, all on his own (as much as I wanted to assist the process to make it go faster, I kept my hands off him and let him figure it out all his own--waaay easier said than done for me).
-He reaches and grabs for anything within reach.
-He sleeps great at night, except for the occasional growth spurt that requires an extra nighttime feeding.
-He still sleeps in a cradle at the end of our bed (at night).  He's quickly outgrowing it.  I'm not looking forward to moving him out.  There may be a few tears shed over that one from this mama.
-He rocks the cloth diapers (way to be green, son!) (oh, just to keep anyone from assuming we have no choice in the matter, we love cloth diapering.  Seriously.  I hate when it isn't convenient and we use disposables.)

I've got a ton of catch-up to do with pictures.  Here goes


sherman is great with roscoe






so sweet.  i love watching him sleep





grampa and roscoe

I hate that the next 2 pictures are blurry, but I had brought the camera out of the air conditioning to the hot, humid lake and the lens got foggy.  I did the best I could with them.


Really, mom?



oh, this isn't so bad after all



Roscoe had a diaper blow out right before this, messing up the onesie



father's day, a birthday, and a baby dedication



RAWR!!! I'm monster baby, and I'm gonna eat eeyore



he had just rolled over and was quite proud of himself



oh my, i love this boy, drool and all.... happy 5 months, little love