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| God's Word as it applies to our lives:
www.desiringgod.org
www.spiritofelijah.com
www.adisciplesnotebook.com
HannahKate Childrens' Clothing:
www.hannahkatespecialcollection.com
My business:
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| "Mom, Christian is trying to leave and cleave from the dishes and we're not done yet..." Shelton said.
Ha, that was an interesting way to put it.
In the past 48 hours the boys have broken 5 glasses. That is why plastic cups were invented, right? I refuse to give up on the boys doing the dishes with me though, even if they break them all.
I got back from work two nights ago - comin' in after a photo shoot - and I saw smoke coming from the back yard.
The boys were outback cooking wild game meat over an open fire. Our monster picnic table was decorated with cedar branches (sneeze.) and candles and place mats I'd made when I was pregnant with Shelton. It's been about that long since I've used them too.
 
(I can't claim the photography in this post. Thanks to the fam, who shot these Awesome COOL shots.)
There was tea in a pitcher, a pitcher that was a wedding gift to us. It's still pretty, though chipped in one spot. Shelton had made french fries out of potatoes. He was very protective over his fries - making sure we all got EVEN portions and Christian didn't get more than the rest of us.
But Christian did, and this made Shelton emotional. The boys don't fight much, but if they do, it's usually over food. Food brings out emotions I didn't know are there. I can't imagine fighting over food. Is it a boy thing?
It was so cool to come home and see all of the children and Robert putting together this meal for me. Morgan had put flowers in a vase and written me a love note. The note said, "I LOVE" on the front and on the inside, "I LOVE MOM."
Everyone was so excited.
I was exhausted, putting on the most excited face I could because I was excited, just exhausted too. I sat down at the picnic table in the dark, the candles flickering light just enough to see the childrens' faces at dinner. I felt very loved and appreciated.
sidenote:
(I don't always feel loved and appreciated. Life isn't like that, ya know, cause then it would be perfect, and it's not. Heaven is reserved for that perfection. I am not attempting to give any impression that this is what I come home to every evening I must work away from home. This is just what happened this week and I want to remember it.~)
I couldn't help but smile just seeing how thrilled they were to do all this themselves and surprise me.
Another sidenote:
(I am very grateful for the dirt-strained, hard workin' husband that spurred the children on with the loving outdoor dinner after his long day of work. WHOOT!)
After Robert and the boys cooked meat over the fire and brought it to the table it was still good and red in the middle, and Scott, like me, prefers his meat cooked through a bit more. "Dad," he said, "This meat looks like it could walk off this table and I like to know mine is a little more dead than that."
The weather today is heavenly. I've been out in it all day thus far. The children are presently trying to lasso Clover the "ram-sheep." All four boys have lassos and are all going at once. Morgan every now and again gets on Clover's back and rides him like a bull.
Could never guess we live in rodeo land, eh?
We were at a rodeo last weekend. The bull riding is amazing. I've not wanted a few of my children to see too much of that because they might want to do it. I see myself as a very un-controlling mother, except at this one point: bull riding. Once you see ten guys limp, get carried off, or taken off in ambulances... it makes tackle football look like ballet.
Well, needless to say, a certain boy of mine was awe-struck all night at the rodeo during the bull riding. He didn't hide it as he sat there his eyes huge and his jaw dropped wide open.
There was enough injuries that night at the rodeo that I am hoping lassoing will feed his appetite enough right now for being a cowboy. Poor Clover just doesn't buck his back legs like they want him to.
I like the barrel racing but I don't know a thing, not a thing about horses, or barrels, unless it's Cracker Barrel or Crate and Barrel. I like Cracker Barrel because they serve breakfast all day and you can get lots of pancakes and the boys eat so quietly they don't fight over food. And you can get grits.
I was raised on the sandy shores of the surf capital of the US. Barrel racing wasn't something you did as a past time. But my parents, being originally from the southern part of the US, they knew how to fix grits. Even cheese grits. Mom made good cheese grits...
Crazy, though, why do I have a certain liking for country music? Maybe it's all the songs about old trucks that I can identify with... or one particular song that says, "...the rear view mirror torn off, I ain't never lookin' back, and that's a fact!"
Yep, I identify with rear view mirrors being torn off. Our's had been re-super glued to the front windshield time and time again, until eventually the whole windshield had to be replaced. Not because of the amount of super-glue, though there was a major heavy amount in a wad, but because the same little guy who used the mirror as a swing, as he got older used the front wind shield as a slide.
Where was I when things like this happened? Do I just let my children slide down car wind shields and swing on rear view mirrors? I am not one of those mothers who has eyes in the back of her head, just in the front, that's why things like this happen.
Morgan said to me, "Mom, don't worry, I'm not going to grow up and marry one of those type of guys that rides those bulls."
I do appreciate her assurance, even if it wasn't asked for.
Baby dear is sick. I have pretty much dropped everything today just to love on her and keep close watch on her. She is sleeping here on my lap.
Well, the lassoing has turned from Clover to each other. The boys are lassoing one another and I have this feeling that's not going to go over too well after awhile. Yep, one has climbed on the roof to avoid being lassoed. A few more titles I will tack onto my many titles as a mom: Cowboy Supervisor, Sheep Saver, Cracker Barrel Promoter... Fetch-Boy-On-Roof-Person. (Sounds better maybe as "Roof Inspector.")
My time is up. Goin' to tie down the cowboys. Big howdy to all you moms of little boys. God bless you.
Yeah for weekends.
a. ann~
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He's EIGHT!
No way. Couldn't be!
just when I think each day lasts forever around here, he goes and turns eight and I know the days are flying way faster than . . . well, then fast flying things.
(Yes, it's probably near midnight and I'm a bit on the tired side.)
Christian said, "Mom, my seventh year went by faster than the year before. Each year seems faster!" I was somewhat surprised to hear him say that considering that he has literally been counting down the days to his birthday since last spring. I would have thought he would say it took forever.
He has studied my calendar. Seriously studied it. I remember when he told me, "Mom, it's now 196 days until I turn eight."
My calendar sits on my desk. He walks in and finds it and flips through it and counts. He would say, "I can't wait until my birthday. It's --- days away." Smile and then walk out.
We take the children out alone on their birthdays. Started that this past year and Robert and I are so glad we did. It's been awesome all the way around - for us, and for them. Christian has been just dying to go out with us. We took him to mini-golf and then to eat. He and Robert played golf and I kept score. Christian made a hole in one about half way through the course.
He hit it out of the course, onto the sidewalk, it bounced back in onto the green and went into the hole. I kid you not. Never seen anything like it in my life of mini-golf. It made his night.
At dinner, over his mac-n-cheese, he told me he either wants to fly planes when he grows up, or be a doctor. He's always told me, since he was a little thing, that he wants to fly... but this doctor thing was a new one. I asked what kind of doctor.
He told me one that doesn't see a lot of blood.
I've seen a lot of spiritual growth in Christian the last three months. Back in the summer time he was not really desiring to pray or spend time reading the Bible. About the first of September I was burdened for his heart. I was reading in my quiet time one morning in Psalm 108 and read:
"...that your beloved ones might be delivered, give salvation by Your right hand and answer me..."
I underlined and it and on the side wrote, "Prayer for Christian 4 deliverance."
And I stepped up my praying for him.
I felt led that I was to make it a priority each night to pray privately with him. Since the four boys share a room I wondered how this would work ~ but I found my way in. All the boys love back rubs, but Christian especially so.
I go up and rub the boys' backs before bed. When I would get to Christian I would rub his back and then get down right next to him and I would whisper a prayer in his ear for him, hugging his shoulders. He really seemed to respond to this and I could tell, really began to look forward to our quiet little prayer together.
Since the beginning of September, I have really seen the Lord work in Christian's heart in lots of little ways.
He is a private person, more quiet in a group and praying at the table at meals has always been something he has been shy about. I haven't pushed him about it, because I've known a lot of it is just personality. . .
Not to mention he's got three extroverted brothers who jump in so fast he doesn't have a chance much anyway.
Well, since our nightly whispered prayer together he has been desiring to pray more. The other day when he prayed at lunch time, once again, it just really touched my heart and I thank God for it because I know this is something that God has done new inside of him.
I have also seen God work a new heart of compassion in him. He's a tough guy - he's all boy - and has had his fair share of injuries. In the past when one of the children would fall or get hurt, he'd kind of look their way, shrug, move on... kind of like, "Get over it and get up." I don't know that he meant to be this way, he's just kind of the soldier type.
A few months ago I spoke with him about how loving others is to show compassion - that when someone gets hurt, it is loving, whatever took place, big or small, to check on them, to ask them if they are okay, to help them up or whatever he could do to show love.
I have been so encouraged to see him taking what I said into action. At first it was a new thing for him, hard for him - outside his normality to stop and take time to help someone up. But over the last few months, he has made it a habit - ON HIS OWN - working hard to show compassion and love. And now I am seeing it come from his heart.
When asked what his favorite thing about this past year was he said it was going to the beach as a family. When I asked him what his goals were for this upcoming year of his life, he said, "To catch a monster crab."
(Shelton was the picture taker for us here so we kind of ended up at the bottom of the picture~ )
Things I love about this guy:
-He has a wonderful laugh! It is so contagious. 
-He is a deep thinker. And though he doesn't let on, even a deeper feeler.
-He talks quiet, but sings loud.
-He gives hugs that squeeze the life out of me.
-He has dimples.
-He loves babies and animals too.
-He's tough.
-He's the ideal student.
-He reaches out and holds my hand. He is extremely affectionate.
-He tells me he loves me.
-He is a strong leader type.
-He can mimic any voice he hears.
-He is who he is. He likes bag pipes and his favorite music to listen to is a Scottish bag pipes cd. He did not get this from me. He puts it on and it sounds like all of Scotland is going to war in his bedroom. He marches and tackles things. I put up with it at the high volume because as it goes on and on and over and over it just blows my mind that he loves it so much.
-He talks my ear off when no one is around.
-He has eye lashes that are longer than anyone's I know.
-He loves to get dirty. He is 100% boy, plus some.
-He knows how to work a deal. 
-He likes to make faces when I take pictures.
I look forward to seeing what God has in store for Christian. I enjoy each and everyday I have with him. Seems like yesterday I was sitting in IHOP eating pancakes for supper after a long day at the zoo with my two little boys. I went into labor. Robert paid the bill and we rushed out.
An hour and a half later, Christian arrived... had him in our living room at home - we were living in a one room house at the time and the living room was Robert's and my bedroom!
Oh, goodness, what a time! Robert ran our two little boys to my sister's house up the road a ways while I was in very active labor at the house, leaving me there alone as the midwives still hadn't arrived! I can remember thinking I was going to have our third baby all by myself!
Thank God I didn't. What I remember most about Christian when he was born was his beautiful dark skin, his eye brows and eyelashes, his head full of THICK, BLACK hair, and how he hardly ever cried. He was our earliest crawler, walker and swimmer out of the bunch. And up to this point, has had more stitches in his head then nearly the rest of the children put together!
I am so grateful for this son that God has given us... a son to give back to Him. I pray he will be a man hard after God.
Happy Birthday Christian Soldier! I love you so very much.
a. ann
P.S. She found the mascara. She pretty much missed both eyes, and was quite proud about it.
Twenty-three weeks old.
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We took out early one morning last week for a field trip. The children have been studying birds and we'd hoped that the place we planned on hiking that day would have lots of birds to look at. My boys have been carrying around this scavenger hunt paper for a couple of weeks now - one where you have to check off the different things you find or see concerning birds.
Well, they weren't getting too far with it so we decided to drive to a place we enjoy hiking. Getting up early and heading out I was sure we'd find birds at least in the morning... but no. We did not see birds!
But we did have a wonderful hike with some wonderful family. The weather was perfect. We hiked about 3.5 miles. We saw a little bit of fall color, something we don't get much of around here, and I still have some sore shoulders from carrying babies.
My sister who has Downs came for our hike - she seemed to really love it and kept up, or rather we kept up with her!
We had some sports drinks left over from football season. Itty has been waiting her turn to have one of these all season long ~ so I let her take one on our hike.
Scott and my parents helped out with taking Baby when I would get tired carrying both. Baby loved hiking!
I had the boys carry my camera a lot of the hike since I had the babies. Some pictures they took:
We had a nice picnic mid-afternoon ~ My sister's and my kiddos after lunch:
(Many of our children are very close in age - my sister's youngest son, just a bit older than my youngest son - and her youngest daughter just a bit older than my youngest daughter. Some proud, sweet big brothers!)
Our Baby, down in some leaves after our hike. I think she loves nature like the rest of us.
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"...they did not remember the abundance of His steadfast love... they soon forgot His works ... they had a wanton craving ... " Ps. 106
It's a rainy looking Sunday morning and though I'd rather be with Robert at church this morning, I have a sick son who needs to be in bed resting. So he is. I'm tempted to work because after weekends, there is more than enough to work on. Particularly laundry. But I know my need to be quiet and rest is much greater then the need to clean.
Beyond the hiking adventures, schooling, last weekend of football, rodeo, etc. . . Interesting past week.
No pretending ~ times when I did not remember the abundance of His steadfast love for me.
I sure wish it were ALWAYS in the forefront of my mind. It's crazy often how much I forget what He has done in the past, second guessing the next moment. I think I forget God's works pretty easily when I have set my affections or expectations on the goodness of man.
Truth is, there is no goodness in man, absent of God present within. "For there is none righteous, no not one..."
Of course there's not! Then why do I want there to be? Why is it that the human-ness of mankind can get me down?
How often my heart does not truly believe what my mind claims to be true.
One thing became more aware to me this week - I have a craving that is there that I am not even always in tune with. A craving to be understood. A craving for others to not mis-read me, mis-judge me. Course, who doesn't want this. But I guess something becomes a craving when it touches something deep inside, when it draws upon pain, the past - - when misunderstanding of who I am takes place though...
I wonder - and who am I after all? It's always a good stop to check motives, but do I know my own heart? Do I know my motives? And can others, who claim to know my motives, really know my motives?
And why do we claim to know others hearts and motives?
And why does it hurt when they claim to know my motives when I don't believe those are my motives at all?
Oh, if life's questions were all packaged up perfectly for me. - where I could type in my question about my own heart on google and then bam, what my heart is REALLY like and is motivated out of would come flashing back at me on the screen.
And why do I even care? Why do I care about my motives and my heart?
Because I do believe there is a God. I do believe He knows my heart and my motives. I do believe that going to heaven is not based on what my head knows but what the well-springs of my heart are. I believe that the outward package of a person can be spankin' perfect and the inside of the package is black.
While at the property last week, Shelton went geode hunting. He loves to collect rocks. He has since he learned to walk. He is my complete nature freak and I love that about him. Geodes are typically round, or somewhat round. They are not 'hard' rocks - they can be opened up - inside is the cool part... or the not so cool part.
All geodes that Shelton finds look basically the same on the outside. They are grayish roundish rocks - different sizes, but nevertheless, each one much like the other.
But the inside is a whole different story. When you crack the geode open you can find one of two things: either a layer of beautiful crystals and neat mineral matter that resembles all sorts of cool things (we sit around and study and marvel at the little beauty in our hands), or you find a layer of brownish mineral matter that resembles hard poop.
There is no way to know what is on the inside, from our human eyes, unless you crack the geode open by inflicting great pressure. (i.e. hammer, or throwing it hard against another rock, or take it to someone who has a rock cutter.)
I was sitting on the picnic table and Shelton approached me with two geodes in each hand, "Mom, geodes are like people..." He stated matter-fact.
He continued, "...They look the same on the outside. But then on the inside it's different. One is truly beautiful and the other is rotten. You only know the truth about the geode when it's hit really hard by the hammer... then it cracks and you see if there are crystals or just those minerals that look like poop."
Out of the mouth of young ones.
He went on...
"All the years I've been collecting geodes and cracking them open to find crystals, Mom, it always reminds me of people."
I sat there that tired afternoon, and marveled at what he said. I found myself looking over his cracked geodes carefully and studying them with him, listening to him tell me about each little thing and what he thought, all the while keeping in mind what he had just likened the geodes to. My heart felt searching.
I don't think it was by accident that he went geode hunting that day, or that he came up to me just kind of randomly, saying what he said to me. Sometimes God speaks to me in the most unexpected ways.
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I am very grateful for the steadfast love of the Lord. I do think I am like a geode. I do think it takes pressure for me to see what I am truly made up of on the inside. The hammering, the cutting, the throwing against a rock! Then the geode opens up, never to be a whole geode again. It's broken. On the inside, in the motives part of me, are crystals forming and mineral matter that is beautiful? Or is it rotting minerals that look like, ya know...
This craving that I have had for others to not mis-understand me...
It's life: I'll be misunderstood.
In fact, it's one of the many things that "cracks my geode" to show me what is inside of me. The "for real" me.
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When I find out that the outside geode of someone fooled me into thinking the inside was crystals, can I still love that person? What if someone's geode is never "cracked" and the inside is never known, at least down here on this earth? What if someone is intent of cracking me to make sure there is ONLY crystals on the inside?
There was only ONE who looked just like the rest of us humans that was all crystals, all perfection on the inside. His name is Jesus Christ. People misunderstood him, judged His motives wrongly -- but his craving in life wasn't to be understood, he didn't give second (or first) thought to what others thought. He knew he was pure on the inside, and he was.
When he was cracked open -- and he was through great pain and hardship, he bore our sins on the cross -- there was shining beautiful crystals like none other. It was shining bright with the abundance of His steadfast love.
That wows me. That's something to crave.
a. ann~
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My best friend in the world turned 42 this past Tuesday.
Each of us had a very long day of work that day. We met up at the end of it and everyone loaded up headed out to eat. That is a treat in and of it self -- but even more so on Tuesday because I paid to take Robert and the fam to go get seafood, which is Robert's favorite type of food.
Shelton ordered alligator and ate a big mound of it.
The rest of us ate normal seafood. We did other fun things that evening.
In a nutshell, Robert said it was the best birthday ever and so I felt very happy about that. The children of course spent lots of time prior to the big day making gifts and cards.
The middle boys worked on a gift together. They carved a boat out of wood and made a sail out of clothe. They stained it and then wrote on the front of the boat, "Fishers of Men." They did a wonderful job - it now rests on Robert's side dresser in our room.
The boys test floated it in the bathtub. The boat apparently can be played with in the bathtub, so we were told, but it falls on it's side if you don't push it through the water a certain way.
The hugeness of all that could be written when I think of how God put Robert and I together... is well, still too long to write. Complicated, yet wonderful. And only Robert and I know the story. Only we know what really took place, and has taken place since...
There is not many months that pass that we don't find ourselves going through it all once again as we drift to sleep in the night. Sometimes the only way I think it will ever get passed on to the next generation is if somehow we record ourselves talking back and forth during these memory lane moments.
What an incredible 12 and half years it's been. Valley, mountain, valley, mountain and over and over again. Highs and lows... but praising God the highs have been so wonderful that the lows were recoverable, through the strength and grace of God.
My husband is as human as any man, human as me. I won't paint a perfect picture because he wouldn't want me to, though there was a day when that was the most important thing in his life to him: what others thought, painting perfect pictures to cover up the stains and imperfect canvas of his life and those closest to him.
What a changed man he is. This past year has been an amazing year for me to watch him and grow with him in our walk and relationship with Christ. It pretty much is hard for me to explain but I have just shook my head in amazement at times as I have seen God minister to me through him, seeing his humility and desire to know God like never before.
I even just shake my head now, in awe of God's miraculous power to change lives. Mine and his and many others.
I loved the man I married all those years ago, but the man I am married to now is so very, very different than the man I married then... and my heart pretty much cannot express yet at the same time cannot contain the love and the wonderment I feel for Robert.
What a great year we have had together this past year. I hope and pray for many, so many more together.
Side note in this midnight spare time post... One thing about being married to a man ten years older than I am... always makes me feel so young! I have a feeling that will come in handy when I really am old.
Things I am most thankful for in Robert this past year:
-his trust in God
-his acceptance and passionate love for me
-his devotion to prayer
-his enjoyment of our children and desire to spend time with them and know them well
-his tremendous work ethic
-his spontaneity
-his standing firm on what he believes
-his help and vision for the childrens' education
-his patience and gentleness
-his contentment
-his individuality, that he is like NO one I have ever known.
-his questioning of what he hears and seeking out what he believes and not just taking what he has been told to believe.
-his love of the outdoors
-his love of date nights with me~
-his running with me and encouragement in each and everyday as I do what I do
-his admission when he is wrong, his humility in wanting to always mature and grow in the Lord
Thanks Robert for seeking to live a life outside of yourself. Thanks for washing dishes with me. Thanks for making me tea before you leave for work if my throat is sore. Thank you for all your hugs. Thanks for always sitting so close in church, just because you want to - instead of placing all the children between us. Thanks for asking me for directions on how to get somewhere instead of aimlessly driving around and around...
Thank you for holding fast to what is right and true even when it hurts, when people don't understand, when you are lied about, talked about, or rejected. Thanks for your encouragement to do the same. Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for being loyal. Thank you for being devoted to our marriage 100%.
Thanks for telling me about my typos and spelling errors on my blog, even if it is several days after I've posted it public. Thanks for reading it just because you like to. Thanks for liking my photography. Thanks for watching the children so I can have quiet time now and then.
Thanks for the amazing appreciation you give me for being the mom when I return from my quiet time out.
Thanks for thinking my creativeness and strange interests and ideas are cool. Thanks for calling me all day long while you and I are apart. Thanks for working SO hard for all of us. Thanks for not giving up.
I am so grateful to have celebrated your 42nd with you. I am thankful to have you as my best friend in the whole world. I love how when we are together we feel so young and full and completed and in love. I have this feeling those feelings will still be there and even more so when we are 82 and 72.
It's a gift that can't really be measured: to live life in love.
Happy Birthday.
a. ann~
P.S. Itty can do pig-tails now. Here she is the other day after I did them for her. She was rather proud about it, eh?
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