"How beautiful your sandaled feet, O Prince's daughter!" Songs 7:1

Last Fall, I was getting rid of some unwanted things.  So I listed them online in hopes of making a little extra money. And lo and behold, I got an email from a perspective buyer!!

I have to admit, I was excited...what's better than getting rid of excess and making money? And all without having to get up at the booty-crack of dawn on a Saturday morning to run a yardsale. Ah, the sweetness of it all.

But then the perspective buyer emailed again.  She couldn't buy the shoes. Her husband had just gotten a paycut...  or maybe it was a job loss?

My heart went out to her. Though we were yet to be in her position, I knew with Jet's job a pay cut could eventually come (and did). So, I gave her the shoes.  For free.

I had to insist...a couple of times in multiple emails. She was a stubborn lady, that one. ;) But she did end up taking them, picking them up (with much heartfelt thanks!) from Jet at his office.  Honestly, it felt so good to bless her.

Fast forward a "few" months. I'm looking through Craigslist because my oldest girls NEED shoes, with a Capital N.   I've been looking for some shoes at yard sales, but never hit the Motherload.  And I just couldn't bring myself to pay for brand new ones, not when there are things like yard sales and thrift stores to be shopped.

And then finally, one night two weeks ago, I came across an ad from someone selling nice girls' shoes in the sizes that I needed. Hallelujah!   But in the midst of trying to arrange a pickup time/place, all four girls got sick and I couldn't meet her in town. So, I asked if she could drop them off at my husband's work...

And I got this email in reply.

Christin,

I am sorry I did not recognize your email address before, I only realized it when you mentioned your husbands work place.

You gave me such a blessing several months ago with several pairs of women's shoes, and I would like to return the blessing now that God has made me able. I want to give you the shoes at no cost if you would let me please....

I couldn't believe it (I still can't). My eyes teared up. My mouth dropped open. I yelled for Jet...

What an amazing gift! What an amazing miracle! I mean, WHAT are the chances??

Yet.




God knew. He arranged it all. Down to the small details of shoe sizes.

I'm still in awe.

Daddy Time

...is something craved and loved in this house.

When Mommy goes away, it's a happy thing; the girls know a fun time will be had by all. When Daddy goes away, there are many tears. because as Charis says "nothing fun happens without Daddy."

But no worries. I've made my peace with it, being that he's the one they call for in the middle of the night. heh heh

The daddy-daughter dynamic that I see unfolding before my eyes is a sweet one. One that Jet and I both realize will have to evolve as the girls get older and start to crave affection is new and different ways from him.

But for now, it's all about being thrown around...



and snuggled...

This is the moment that they first started saying their sweet "More More More" chant. each trying to outdo the other one in who loves who more. ;)

and making funny faces because being with Daddy brings out your silly side.


This is also the time that Raegan started to say that her nickname will hence and forever more NOT be RaeRoo. But instead RaeRae because it's easier for Lani to say. So cute.

Usually when there is one little girl getting some attention, the others aren't far behind. because they can hear the alluring laughter from the other rooms and come running.

Enter stage left: The Big Sisters


Though they don't remain on the sidelines for long, entering in on this Daddy-feigned "No, Not Kisses! Anything but kisses!" ploy.

Reverse psychology still works when all the girls are under 7years. See Charis all puckered up and ready to lay a few on him?



I don't remember how this moment happened...where the other girls ran to...but Charis got a moment of snuggle time by herself.

I love that look of contentment on her face.


And then came Selah's turn for one-on-one tickle time.


All of our girls love to cuddle, but Selah is our Official Snuggle Bug.


These are the moments (and the pictures) that capture the sweet essence of Selah...


and that will inevitably bring tears to Jet's eyes later on in life as he looks back and remembers.
"Nibble me, but just pretend." Selah to Daddy.

I'm thinking Selah's time with Daddy got a little too long. Or maybe it was that I was taking too many pictures of someone other than my little photo-op girl. Raegan firmly placed herself directly in the view of the camera lens. :)

"Take a picture of ME, Mommy!"

And then the wild animals came back. They can only stand so much time away when there's fun to be had.


I always wonder when people say "Poor Daddy" when they hear we'll be a family of five girls. Like, for some reason, Jet not having sons will forever be a dire disappointment to him.

I don't get it. Our girls are learning sports. They wrestle. They rough house. AND they dress up in princess dresses and declare Jet to be The Prince of their heart.

"The first man a little girl falls in love with is her dad." Author Unknown

In my way of thinking, Jet has the best of both worlds. Sugar and Spice (-y) and all things nice. How can he not love that?

In which I add a BIG, FAT Number 11

Maybe you read my "10 things I hate"List. Maybe you didn't. But eh, either way...I have a little...*ahem*...shall we call it Addendum?

Some More things I Rather Hate:

11. When you are so busy focusing on the fact that you are grossly in need of a professional haircut (IE. one that doesn't happen in the privacy of your bathroom) that you spend forevah trying to make your hair not look like Dudley Moore circa 1980 that you completely forget to practice personal hygiene before leaving for church.

12. When you don't realize the slight oversight of not having brushed your teeth until far too late. As in, in the car. on the way to the church. a good distance from the house. forcing you to pop in two very strong, very minty-fresh pieces of gum.

13. When you are busy chomping on your hygiene-aiding wad of gum, in the middle of a conversation with multiple people in the church lobby, when you suddenly realize that you also forgot to shave the prickles from underneath your exposed arm pits. Just about the same time that you forgot to coat those same armpits with Degree deodorant.

14. When, upon said realizations, your body temperature automatically and irreversibly raises 15 degrees. causing you to be immediately be covered in a cold sweat. Something not conducive to a sound, peace of mind when NOT wearing deodorant.

15. When you have to try and track down someone who happens to have deodorant. on hand. at church. (Thank God, if this were to happen to ME, I'm not a shy person)

16. When you do finally track down someone who has a key to the Church Staff's bathroom's fully stocked cabinet.... and find that all they have is Men's Right Guard...clearly not of the unscented variety. Smelling like a man is better than the alternative. Uh, right?

17. When you go into the church's infant nursery, only to find that the person you're sharing Nursery Duty with happens to have an extra deodorant in her purse. the kind that smells like powder and lotion and all things feminine. Only 10 minutes too late.

18. When you realize...hours later as you picnic with a ton of friends in the summer's heat... that men's deodorant doesn't work for you anyway.


Yeah. I think that about covers it. Just add 11-18 to my last list.

NOT that I'm speaking from personal experience or anything. No, this is pure hypothetical musings of some things that I think I would totally hate.

You know, WERE it to happen to me.

Sunday School lessons

Reading the Bible with my children always brings a fresh perspective.

Because they haven't been taught to downplay the absolute mysteriousness of God. nor are they afraid to ask question after question after question...

Questions that I'm sure I used to ask, but have since stopped asking. Not because I don't wonder. but because I just don't take the time to really think about it.

Take the story of Samson, for instance.
His strength was in his hair?! Are you kidding me?

Though Charis (6) didn't word her question exactly like that, it was the heart behind it. Because has any modern day person ever heard of such a thing: Length of Hair = Brute strength ????

I certainly never have. outside of this story, that is. A story that I honestly only think of in terms of Sunday School material.

But when I really start to digest it, I am completely overwhelmed with the way that God moves. with the way that he thinks.

And I have to wonder

1. Would I believe it if someone claimed to have God-given strength due to the length of their hair? or would I write them off as insane?

2. What nonsensical, miraculous thing does God want to do in my life? being that he obviously loves working that way.

College Days are here again.

I live in a college town.

Wait. Let me clarify.  I live just outside a town that houses two universities...and is 15 minutes away from a private college.  Oh, and 15 minutes (in the other direction) away from a community college.

So yeah, as I was saying....

I live in a college town.  And this is the time of year where the mass influx of students completely changes the look, feel, and spirit of our town.

Picture taken the summer before MY Senior year in college. I'm second from the left.

For when The Students...from one of the FOUR local colleges... return to town:

• You can no longer drive, with ease, down the road. You now have to ride the break, contending with college students who have a death wish think they possess the right of way.   All day. Every day. On a four-lane busy road, I might add.

• You can no longer walk into a restaurant on a Friday night and be seated within 20 minutes. Now you hear "It's looking like an hour and a half at this point" from the hostess.  Promptly being faced with the decision to wait it out or go to another restaurant...to wait it out.
  
  So yeah, dinners out come ready-made with PRE-eating indigestion, as you try to convince yourself that standing *that* close to a total stranger in the restaurant lobby for an hour isn't all that bad.
  
  

No, this picture wasn't staged. Wha'? We were always picking each other up. for absolutely no reason at all. Didn't you? I suppose that was the reason we were part of FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes)... we had exceptional upper body strength. ;)

• You can no longer walk down the street with your full confidence in tack. Because you are now greeted with thin, tan, half-clothed girls that have been obviously working on their physique the en.ti.re. summer. in preparation for the inevitable meeting of The One. ;)
  

• And for the Love of God and all things holy, don't even think about stepping foot inside Super Walmart because you will not get out alive within the designated 1-hour time frame.

But

I have to confess.  I love it...I love almost everything about having them back in town.  I mean, the whole death-wish, half-clothed part doesn't sit well with me. But eh. I'm particular like that.

There's just something about this age group that stirs my very soul.

Something about that short time frame in life that silently calls out to the woman God created me to be...and every fiber in my being WANTS to do a one-on-one with every. girl. there.

And trust me, that's a lot of girls. (Maybe this is why God has given me a posse of daughters?...since I no longer have extra time for college ministry)

I'm drawn to their energy. their potential. their zest for life. their desire to figure it out. and their rather naive take on male/female relationships that begs for a little outside perspective.

And I have this insatiable urge to invest in them. Listen to them. Encourage them. Slap them upside the head and yell "Clothe thyself!"


College reunion last summer. I'm 6months pregnant with Alana. Always pregnant...:) And notice this time, I'm still holding up some part of somebody's body. ;)

It's such a precious season in life. Such a sweet memory for me. SUCH the pocket of opportunity for them. And I'm drawn to it. to them.

And I happen to be thu-rilled that they're ALLLL back in town.

Now to get them to ditch the death-wish and buy clothes that actually cover thy boot-ay.

Parental Lessons learned the hard way...

#264: Remove DVDs when not in use

Jet and I were watching The Patriot the other night. It was late. We were tired. and not in the "mood" for the fairly violent battle scenes that were getting ready to happen.

So we turned off the TV and went to bed. No big deal, right?

Fast Forward...

It's the next morning. I'm sitting on the couch in the family room with my girls. When suddenly Raegan decides she wants to turn on the TV.


Now she is quite adept when it comes to manning the DVD, TV, and stereo system. And I, having enough situations to referee during the day, have decided to pick my battles and not make it a big deal. So I thought nothing of the fact that she turned it on (we don't get TV stations, so I didn't figure she could actually watch something anyway).

But then I look up. And there on the screen, is Mel Gibson hacking into some soldier in the woods with a hatchet.  Though I can't be sure, because of the state of my mental frenzy, there was blood. Lots and lots of blood.

AHHHH!! "No!!! No!!! Noooooooooo!!"

I scream as I lunge for the OFF button, finally TAKING OUT the dvd from the player. Something we apparently overlooked last night.  Oops.

A thousand things flew through my head in a second's time. I mean, we don't even let the girls watch Arthur from PBS for Pete's sake! And here, they were all exposed to a gruesome battle scene.

*This is me beating my head up on the floor as I bemoan my parental failings*

And there stood Raegan. Unmoving. Silently staring at the blank screen. Until she spoke with so much feeling I could never put it to words:

"Wooooah. WHAT. was. that?!"

It so made me laugh...and most likely is one of those times that you have to know her personality, voice, and body language in order to fully appreciate the moment.  But man, that girl has got some personality. and can add humor to most any situation. How I love her!

And how I will *forever* remember to remove the one R-rated movie we own from the player before Raegan walks into the room.

Just pursue me already, won't ya?

Having all daughters...and being a woman myself...I'm seeing more and more how we, as women, are relational to the core. from birth.  Or at least toddlerhood.

Raegan (28 months), Selah (5), Charis (6)...Alana wanted nothing to do with posing for the camera.

As women we'd like to know that people realize the depths of our interesting personality...and want to seek out its depths. Don't we?  But by the time we've reached maturity, we know "better" than to blatantly advertise this innate desire. 

Though on a personal level I can say that Jet stole my heart when he said, "I know it'll take a lifetime to get to know you."  Ahh the memories!  In moments where I'm feeling totally neglected, I like to remind him of this sentiment. ;)

Anyway.  My young girls are already showing signs of this inborn womanly trait of wanting to be truly KNOWN:

Jet, in response to something that Charis had said: "I know you do, Sweetheart. I know you pretty well."

Charis: "...but you don't know EVERYTHING there is to know about me."

"No. You're right, I don't."

Charis, in a sweet, inviting voice, "Well, I can tell you some things... IF you want."

Doesn't that just melt your heart. AND describe the very feelings that we all have as women? ;)

10 things I totally hate

Ten Things I totally hate. 
Not that you care. Not that you asked. Not that I even want to document it for posterity sake. But just because.

The List:

• Realizing you've been talking to someone all while sporting lettuce in between your front teeth.
  
  
• Sneezing as you're driving down the road (as in behind the wheel). I mean, what would happen if a random deer or bear would run across the road while both my eyes are glued shut???
  
  
• Getting out of the pool, sitting on a chair, and then getting back up... The booty mark is never flattering. I don't care how small you think your backside is, The Mark is always considerably larger.
  
  
• Mosquitoes that seem to have an uncontrollable taste for the Bug Spray you just spent $20 on.
  
  
• F.I.N.A.L.L.Y getting the kitchen back in order...only to realize it's now time to cook a meal again.
  
  
• Sitting on the toilet (that's a nice mental picture to throw at the Internet, now isn't it?) and realizing that someone used the last of toilet tissue. and never bothered to restock it. OR the bathroom cabinet. Oh what to do. what to do.
  
  
• Knowing that you shouldn't eat the chocolate. Not being hungry for the chocolate. Not even craving the chocolate. But eating the chocolate just because you can. And then... feeling irreversibly sick and bloated.
  
  WHY do I do this to myself again? Can someone clue me in on the vast depth of Christin-Stupidity please?
  
  
• Government decisions that wouldn't make sense to a third grader. YET somehow make it past a vote of "highly intelligent" adults. (that'da be our elected congressman)

• Walking into a public restroom only to realize...well I'll be!... there's no need to unzip your zipper. It's been down the whoooollle bless-ed time.
  
  
• Picture it. Public school gym....it's time to do the Presidential Fitness test. Sit-ups are on the agenda for the day. And you (or inevitably the person who's legs you were having to hold) have an upset stomach.
  
  *ahem* Yeah...I'll let you put two and two together. Never a pretty thing.
  
  WHY is it that important for the President to know that you can successfully complete 45 sit-ups in 60 seconds again?
  

Yup. I'm so sure you'll sleep better tonight just knowing The List. You're welcome. ;)

The Streak...er

"I. Do. It. Myself."

What can I say? She has an independent...uh, penchant for streaking.

Dare I call it insight?

The following quote was a lovely little sentiment I heard from Charis (6.5 years old), as she and Selah were playing a Story.

"Story": It's what they call their make-believe games.   Play times that come ready-made... with a bona fide script.  *Not kidding* If you play along, you will be told what to say. and when. and how.

Charis, who is playing the husband of the story: "Honey, are you trying to eat more than me because you want to have another baby?"

Uh-huh.

Should this make me happy that Charis is yet to figure out the ins and out of how Baby got in my belly? (Though she's gotten close! I'm such the procrastinator pro at redirecting.)

OR should I be completely embarrassed that she, by her keen observational skills, has deduced that Mommy, in order to create and maintain a "baby belly", must out-eat every person she's come in contact with.  Ever.

The Looming Door

I think we've all heard the phrase about how God opens doors in our lives. Doors of opportunity and favor and ...

"See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut." Revelations 3:8

But what I'm recently grappling with is that I have a choice in the matter, a decision on how I'm going to interact with said Heavenly-assigned Door.  I mean, sure there's an open door before me. But it doesn't always feel that clear cut.

I've had those open doors in my life that graciously shout "Hello! This is a no-brainer! Walk through me. It'll be sooo good. The way is clear, the obstacles non-existent. Total. Piece. Of. Cake."

Can't you just look at that door and SEE how life on the other side would be so much better than living behind a barren stone wall?! There's vibrance and freedom and total refreshment if you step through!

But then there are those doors where you just. don't. know.


Sure there's light on the other side, but...? The whole set up feels a little iffy, the outcome completely unclear.  There is no scenic view. In fact, there's no view at all. To walk through this metaphorical door feels very much like a gamble. a huge risk into the unknown.

And wanna know something personal about me? Come a little closer...I'll whisper it to you. I'm kind of partial to "known".

THEN there are those doors of opportunity where I like to just roll around in the opening, you know? Kind of bask in the knowledge that Heavenly Opportunity has picked me for the blessing.


See those blue skies? For me. And that endless expanse of ocean views? Uh-huh. For me.  I'm thinkin' I must be pret-ty special to have been hand selected to travel through this VIP Door.

But one problem with that approach...

(and I feel like I'm currently there... with my pop-up camper and suitcases, sipping an iced tea and staring, starry-eyed, at my pretty door)

...is that you never move into what God is calling you to. You never move past the Jordan, so to speak, to TAKE what is being offered you.

But can I just be honest? Thanks. I will...

I like easy. I detest hard. Hard as in those amazing doors with the amazing views and amazing destinies that come with an amazing amount of WORK.  As in, I have to take the time to unlock the somewhat ajar door



Well, that is, after I climb WAY UP... so I can reach the stinkin' lock.


...or three.

I know there's a door sitting in front of me. A WIDE OPEN door, on one level. A huge opportunity on all levels. But all I want to do is find that bless-ed Staples' Easy Button.

Which in doors, happens to look a bit like this:


I'd rather just push a button...or wriggle my nose...whatever happens to bring about the desired results. Without the painstaking work required on my part.

But as Angus Buchan (from "Faith like Potatoes) says: "If your vision doesn't scare you, it's not big enough."

Well, the vision God put before me...paired with The Door...is officially overwhelming to me. And I'm having to choose, THIS DAY, who I will serve.

My God, who shall provide all my needs? Or my Self, who shall constantly provide all the reasons why it's far too big for little ol' me?

Bottom line: I want to walk through that Door. I want to take a hold of the Destiny it offers. But I don't want to embrace the work required.

Am I alone is this ridiculous mindset of Give-me-but-don't-require-of-me? *large sigh*

"Fight the good fight of the faith; take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made the good confession..." 1 Tim. 6:12

Because I don't want to get to Heaven and hear, "But I had so much more for you, Christin. More than you could ever dream or imagine. It was there before you. Untouched."

God help me. to pack up camp. stop staring. and start moving THROUGH the door. working towards TAKING the opportunity you've put on the other side.

Signs of the time

Sometimes we just get used to living by The Rules.


When we're learning to drive, we all know to obey the many, many traffic signs. In fact, the Rules of the Road are so intentionally drilled into our heads that we no longer have to think about their meaning. We just know them.

or else. (this is where I tell you I didn't really like Driver's Ed)

After all, we're told there will be hell to pay (not to mention court costs *wry grin*) if we divert from THE right way to do it.


On some roads, there's only one way to go. To go in the other direction is illegal. dangerous. and ticket-bound.



In the World of Street, you are encouraged to walk and cross the road at designated times during the day. for a designated amount of time.

By the herds. like cattle.

and, for the love of God, to come to a complete stop when you see red.

We all know this, right? And at least the law-abiding percentage of us all know to nev-ah go against these rules. To choose anything less than full obedience, to treat these signs as mere suggestions, only proves that we are of the irresponsible, misguided, and in-need-of-harsh-discipline-type citizens.

And...show of hands... who wants to be dubbed that? Anyone? Anyone?

But those hard-fast rules are only applicable when we're on the road. Even though the mentality of This is THE way to effectively and responsibly live crosses over into other realms of life, doesn't it?

Like for instance....oh, I don't know... how many children you have. :) Clearly, there is a "responsible" amount to birth, right?

Call me a rebel, but I like to think there are certain decisions that cannot be categorized as The Right Way vs. The Wrong.

life choices that are not spelled out in black in white Bible text by the Lord. and personal choices that really do depend on the individual, their relationship with Christ, and their life circumstances.

Being of the child-bearing age, I have a lot of friends starting families...or closing up shop. :) I know people who want "only" two. as well as families who currently have nine children ("naturally" and adopted) and would gladly take more.

I've heard innumerable conversations revolving around family size, and personal preferences regarding it all. I've heard woman proclaim that any more than X-number of children just isn't right. I've heard other woman say that they'd take a dozen, easy.

And honestly, both mindsets were spoken from women whom I respect highly.

Being that I love big families and have had a baby (or lost a baby) every year since my oldest was born in 2002, I've had many-an assumption made about me and my growing brood.

Some assume that I'm forever planning on being the professional Baby-Making Machine. Until Jesus comes back.....or my uterus falls out from exhaustion. You know, whichever happens first.

And I've had other people assume that surely, for the love of all things holy and sensical, I'm finally finished...?!

As people we're funny that way. I know I am. I'm always curious what "The Plan" is. I like to ask if people are wanting more...or if they're done...or if they're considering adoption...or if they plan on ever scaling Mt. Everest.

What? don't you want to know if those you love have grand and lofty goals? ;)

So when people ask me, I'm not offended. At least not as long as the question doesn't come with a snide attitude and a roll of the eyes. Then I might just have to bite someone something. (My tongue, most likely)

But yes. I have an answer. We have been mulling that one over from every angle. and are fairly certain in what we are thinking.

But for now, I just want to make a statement to all those people who seem to feel that all roads in life come with clear-cut signs about what is good and right and true.

I. just. don't. buy. it.

So put away your picket sign, if you've been so inclined to tote one arouond. and stop harassing people who are of a different mindset than you. Deal?

Because some signs have just been left blank. intentionally.

...so that each person can map out the course of their individual life with a personal Savior that's a bit more creative than creating a bunch of cloned people.

people who moo cross the Parental Road only when a machine with a little stick figure of a man tells them that they can.

Thank God life is NOT set up like Driver's Ed. Hell, maybe...but not life on earth. ;)

I am officially...nesting?

I admit it. I'm (almost) 22-weeks pregnant and nesting. I nest...uh, early? As in I started 22 weeks years ago.

Yes. I nest every year, year-round. Promise. For you will always find me reorganizing, rearranging, re-something on multiple levels. I just can't help myself.

But maybe pregnancy multiples the urge?

Because during this time of painting the exterior, I've wandered across a ridiculous notion. The sudden urge to repaint my formal dining room. Why I would feel compelled to paint the interior when the exterior painting project is in full swing is beyond me. being that it escapes all sound reasoning.

Yet clearly something as obscure as "sound reasoning" is not considered necessity when computing within the halls of my thinking.

But regardless, I wanted to share a paint site that has helped me tremendously!!

This site. It's from Sears (I'm actually a Home Depot Behr type of girl...but I figure I can always color-match) and I'm loving it.

You pick the type of painting project that you have. Like "Dining Room"...and then they give you styles to choose from. Like "formal".

And away you go....picking colors from the blessed color wheel. endless possibilities to confuse astound your creative side.

MAYBE in the not too distant future, I'll have pictures. Along with the soon-to-be finished exterior. Maybe?

But with the pending rain, I'm thinking the new dining room french door may be first. Dear God in heaven, I think we need professional help.

Hi, my name is Christin and I'm addicted to having multiple unfinished home projects.

Perspective Positioning

Gaining new perspective has been a big thing in my life recently. On soooo many realms.  But on one realm, it requires taking a few steps out my front door...


passed the red blossom and the random water hose.

(Which, I might add, continues to freak. me. out. as it's been laying in random parts of our yard this past week. Looking a little like Satan from the Garden of Eden... considering that we've recently found two very large, very fearless black snakes in our yard. So yeah. As I'm metaphorically passing this random water hose to get to the other side of Perspective, I'm always pausing a bit to make sure it IS actually an inanimate object. and not something that bites me.

And yes, I AM this random in real life.)

Anyhoo.

As I take those few steps out the front door, I'm better able to see this.



And when I walk in the other direction...into the edge of my neighbor's yard. A mere 15 feet from my own. Past the ladder and the scaffolding pieces...


I'm better able to see this:

The almost-finished west side of our home.

My Viewing Perch is only a few paces away from my own yard. It takes a couple of seconds to walk. But man, if it doesn't offer me a better view

...of the Bigger Picture.

Jet and I have been hard at painting the house, board by board and section by section. It's a grueling process, to be sure. A process that continually requires for us to step back and gain new perspective in order to maintain motivation, in order to better see the entire panoramic view.

And so we step back. Sometimes on an hourly basis.

For when we stand in a different place, we're suddenly able to see the entirety of our project, instead of the inch that we happen to be working with at the moment.  That move enables us to see how far we've come, how far we have left to go, and *insert heartfelt whistle* the beauty of our work.

I can see where we may have missed a spot. or accidentally dripped some of the white trim paint down on the brown. I can see how that obnoxious marred place in the wood, where I was sure would look obvious to all who passed by, actually disappears upon backing up a few short feet.

Stepping back...it opens my eyes to a whole different perspective. But the point is I can SEE from an entirely different point of view.

And one day as I did my small trek into the neighbor's yard, the Lord spoke to me.

"I have you in a place of gaining perspective."

And can I be honest? I wanted to cry with relief because I've recently been in a place where I've had to just step back from certain things. particular relationships. mindsets. expectations.

To reevaluate: 
To see where I've come from and where the Lord has me headed.
To evaluate the attachments that I have and whether or not they are God-intended for this season.

I feel like I can get so caught up in the detailed inch of Life that I'm currently working on that I forget to take a moment and remove myself from the particular up close and personal aspect of life to gain a different, healthier perspective on it all.

And so that's what I've been doing. Stepping back. taking it all in. and reevaluating the Father's brush-strokes on the canvas of my life.

Three weeks into homeschooling and Tragedy has occurred.

A couple of years ago, we were first introduced to the life cycle of a cicada. Finding a few in our yard, we were able to watch them hatch. going from ugly creature to ugly creature... with wings.

It was glorious.

So when we finally found another larva this week, the girls were Thu-rilled!

We put him in a little container. And the girls immediately ran around and found food for him, got him a climbing stick, and promptly removed him from the care of their little sister, Raegan (aka Pet Killer...as she squashed Charis's caterpillar between her curious little fingers last week).

You would have thought we just spent the big bucks on an exotic animal. Seriously, you should have seen it. They went into warp-speed veterinarian mode. And I was getting play-by-play accounts, keeping me up-to-date on the status of the little bugger.

"The shell !! It has a crack in it....I can see it cracking!"

This is where you hear the pitter-patter of multiple sets of little feet as they all run back to the front living room to lovingly watch their new pet.

"...Now we're seeing a little orange!! I see color!! It's coming! It's coming!!"

Running. Happy Screams. Running.

"Yes! We're sure of it! He's coming! Get the camera!! Can you see it? He's coming out!!"

But that, sadly enough, is where it all stopped.


Apparently the cicada was a little overwhelmed with all the attention? 'cause it died. Mid new-life-emerging stage thingy.

And can I just say that the girls acted as if I was Evil itself because I voiced the simple suggestion that perhaps the little guy had passed on?

To see their facial expression and watch their body language, you would have thought I had just said "You know what? I'm thinking of ripping his head off, mkay?"

Yep. I went from Most Loved One for finding him to Hateful Mean Mommy for suggesting he was no longer with us. especially when I finally had to say, "Look, I'm sorry, but he really IS dead. Raegan's hitting him with a stick and he's not even moving. I'm taking him outside."

Oh, the looks of horror.

I'm sorry, little guy. R.I.P.

And uh, Lord? If you would happen to hand-deliver another cicada, I'd be most appreciative. Better yet. We're studying aquatic animals this year. Wanna hook me up with some sea life?

Just make sure it's healthy, kay? Or at least fit to eat. *wink*

Your Local Zoo

You just never know what you're going to run into when mowing the front lawn during the summer months. at least in my yard.

This year we've had more rabbit nests with the sweetest little bunnies ever. No pictures though...because camera was dead. or I was lazy. or both.

Though I'm sure they'll eventually look like this guy. also seen in our yard. :)


We've had multiple l.a.r.g.e. black snakes. with DNA marked "fearless" running through their cold-blooded veins. Because even within inches of you, they don't care. They neither slither away nor cower in fear. In fact, my neighbor was struck by one a year or so ago.

And please refrain from spouting off the virtues of black snakes. We'll talk their virtues after *hatchet* has been put to good use.

And no. No pictures of Snake Spotting because I was busy wetting myself. while screaming for my Maker.

We've also had many many birds. too many to mention. Though these guys were some of the highlights:

A nest of baby birds. where we could stand back and watch the mom and dad bird take turns feeding the ravenous suckers.


Raegan loved it! ;) as did the other girls. Jet's arms got quite the workout that morning.

and then there was the wounded bird that needed our one-on-one care in order to make it after he dive-bombed our window.


And one very destructive bird...


who was very busy tearing up the neighborhood in no time flat.


He was a rather obnoxious, rather glorious winged beast that could actually be heard yards away (as in multiple houses away). sounding like a rather busy hammer.

The picture doesn't do his massive size justice. He was like a small cat.



He, like the snakes, didn't seem to mind if we were right on top of him. I suppose he figured if he could do this kind of damage to a tree, our faces were no match for his power tool beak.

As you can imagine, I was easily convinced. just standing back and taking pictures. with as much zoom as my little bitty camera could muster.

And then today...there were more winged creatures.


though the above pictures is not my own. Because I had no time to take pictures. As I was mowing.

Right over their clump/swarm. that, for some reason, was in the middle of my grass. ????

The only thing reason we could come up with as to WHY they'd be huddled in a ball on my grass was that the queen was on the move and she dropped to the ground for some reason. So in attempts to protect her, they were huddled close around her. ??

Thankfully, I barely ran over them. just enough to freak them out with the wind of the blade and the noise of the motor, causing enough confusion to keep them from attacking me.

I have to admit, I didn't run. like any half-sane person who wants to avoid being stung would do.

I stood around (at a safe-ish distance of five paces) watching to see if I could figure out what the heck they were doing in my yard. I'm that stupid willing to contribute to my girls' science knowledge.

But after all the other "wildlife" we've seen this year, I shouldn't be too surprised. though I DO hope that a bear doesn't decide to add itself to our List of Summer Visitors.

Because we all know what that does to me. ;)

Sure, there's love. But then there's PAINT.

Paint covers a multitude of sin bare wood, dirty white siding, and years decades of lazy home owners.

This past week, Jet and I have been kicking it to it as far as the exterior of our house is concerned.

Honestly, I'm not sure what finally motivated us to fit one more thing in to our already busy schedule, but one evening we found ourselves on the back deck with paint cans and brushes in hand...


Oh, and not to forget the glorious beast of a machine that we loving refer to a The Pressure Washer. Though I have to say, I suddenly feel the urge to christen the sucker...with a real name. Rufus, maybe?

Now, I've talked about a man and his pressure washer before. It's an entertaining relationship, to be sure. But let me tell you, there's nothing like a woman and her pressure washer.

It's pure bliss. A moment of beautiful multi-tasking talent all wrapped up in power, speed and lightning fast destruction. Love it.



For what used to take people hours and hours to accomplish now only takes minutes. See? Proof positive:


Bare, exposed wood...not from the toil of my hand and a scraper, but rather from the ease of a button and a hose.

You really should try one! There's nothing quite like holding that sort of raw water-pressure-power in your hand.

*This is me trying to refrain from (again) professing my undying love for such unleashed power*

I so wish I had a picture of me armed with said beasty. But *reality check* this is MY life we're talking about and pictures of me don't usually exist. But just imagine Pregnant Woman armed with both determination to get 'er done AND a machine that willingly obliges.

Ah. :)

And so we've pressured washed. waited patiently for it to dry. and then proceeded with making our home exterior a beautiful thing to behold.




Yes, that's my man up on the roof. It's payback for this. (though I have to say, I'm a bit more gracious). *love you, babe*




When we first moved into this house four years ago, it was a WRECK. With a capital P.U.

It stank like cat pee. had cat poop in various places (yeah, such sweet little accommodating kitties lived here before us). and possessed enough hair balls... clinging to random places throughout the house... to make a dozen bald cats warm again. And those were just the- immediate-assaults-to-your-senses problem areas.

It was a disaster.

While the house held SOOO much potential, the obvious work it would take to even begin to slightly uncover its beauty was a bit overwhelming to me. being that we had just owned and lived in two other fixer uppers within the span of a few years.

I was tired, having had just moved across country to buy a house I was yet to see outside of email pictures (we were moving back to the county I grew up in).

But the deep exhaustion set in when we first saw the house before the closing date, where we were greeted with an overwhelming stench of cat urine. as well as movers who were suddenly refusing to move out.

We weren't aware Squatters were a part of the fixer-upper package deal. Oh Glory.

But four years later, I can honestly say I love my house. am soooo glad we bought it (though it took a lawyer to get the previous owners out). and am soooo relieved to know that in a matter of a few weeks it will no longer qualify under the "fixer upper status".

Can I just pause and have a moment of silence?


Jet's took off this past Friday and upcoming Monday so we can focus on exterior painting. I'm thinking that he won't know what to when he actually uses his vacation days for things OTHER than house projects and baby deliveries.

Bunny Trail: I'm SO ready for that phase of life to begin. The season where we actually come away from vacation time feeling relaxed. I shudder to imagine the crazy things we may do with bona fide FREE time off.

But for now, we happily scrap power wash and paint. checking massive projects off our list.

And a small FYI for those of you that are related to this preggie mommy:While I am painting, these are the sections that I've been given charge over:



The kind that require my feet to either stay firmly planted on the ground. or only a few feet up on a step ladder. Honestly, it'd be sheer torture for me to just stand by and idly watch. I love getting stuff done!

And I can, that is, as long as my girlies are content to either sleep. or play nicely.


Notice Lani is missing from this picture. She was playing nicely... by sleeping.

Hopefully the Finished Product Pictures will be up and running soon. AHHH!!!!