Fall

I'm not one to enjoy the weather turning cooler.  I don't like cold very much, and as someone who is cold even in Texas summers, I can be pretty miserable.  But I am thankful for a house that is much tighter than it used to be, thanks to generous people who worked on it for us.  The wind is blowing mightly outside, but we are cozy and warm inside, doing school this morning.

A lot of things are changing around here.

I tell people Bill and I had three batches of children (Angel-Leah doesn't like that term, so I changed 'batches' to 'litters' for her, but she didn't think that was an improvement):  When we married, we were only going to have two children, and Rachael and Celeste were born.  We moved to Oklahoma, where we began to keep foster children, and after falling deeply in love with a little boy who didn't stay, I begged for more children. Gage was soon born, followed by three brother in eight years: Max, Spencer and Beau, and then pretty little Mary Susannah.  By then, I was in my 40's.  My heart was content.

Rachael and Celeste were 7 and 9, already in school, when we began to have children again.  They were my first batch, the boys and Mary Susannah were my second batch.

When Mary Susannah was around 8, and Bill and I were in our 50's, we began to adopt.  First came Luke, then Angel-Leah.  Soon after her adoption was final, we were asked to take her baby brother, Tommy, which we did.  That closed our home, because with Tommy coming, we were over the limit of children in our home that CPS would allow.  But then, three years after his adoption, we were asked to take Luke's sisters, Cynthia and Selah.  That was a very hard road with many obstacles, but eventually we were able to adopt them, too.

Life finds me now with all my biological children grown, married, courting, or far away in other states and even another country.  My adopted children all still live at home, and are fast growing up.  Sometimes, when I find myself in the rare situation of being alone for one reason or another, I realize that in eight years, my hands on parenting is going to be over.  By that time, I will have had minor children in my house for 50 years.  That's going to be a major change!   But God is good, and He gave me my hearts desire, lots of children to raise.  I am thankful for that!

My first batch, Rachael and Celeste, gave me nine grandchildren.  Those grandchildren are now grown or almost that way.  Chloe and Julia were married this past year, and Chloe has just given me my first great grandbaby, and he is just wonderful!

Daughter Mary Susannah is expecting her first baby, and I can hardly wait.  Max and his wife Whitney, who were fostering for a while, have decided to start a family, and I am anxiously waiting good news there.

So my second batch is adding babies to our family.   With 12 children, I am hoping for grandchildren in the 100's!

Son Spencer is dating now, and I couldn't be more pleased with his choice:

I haven't seen son Gage in three years, since Bill's funeral, because he is in South Korea.  But this summer he is coming to America!  He will be in Boston, Massachusetts, going to Harvard for the summer for a masters degree.  I am saving already to go see him there.  I have never been to Massachusetts, but mostly, I just want to see my son again.  I never dreamed three years could go by without my seeing one of my children.  I can't even say how much I have longed to see him again.

My third batch is growing, Cynthia will be 21 next month,  Angel-Leah and Luke have become teenagers.  They are all getting taller than I am, with only Tommy still shorter, but catching up fast.

Life is good, and cheerful.  And again, I am thankful.

I want to revive this blog, although I am told blogs aren't so popular anymore.  I have made ALL the mistakes in my life, but hopefully have grown through them, and am at the "older woman" stage the Bible talks about.  I would love for this blog to become a place where I can inspire women in their walk as a Godly woman, and teach them what I have learned.  Not that I am anywhere near perfect, far from it, but I do have a very few things I can teach.  I will be deleting old posts that aren't inspirational, and hopefully writing new ones, at least once a week, but life can get busy and we will see.
Input is very welcome!

Fleeting...

The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever."  Isaiah 40:8

Time is marching on.  I will be 60 years old in a couple of months.  I am finally acknowledging that I am indeed getting older.  Am I elderly?  I didn't like that idea, so I googled "elderly" the other day.  According to the internet, I have five more years until I am considered such...that doesn't mean, though, that the young lady at McDonalds the other day didn't offered me the senior citizens discount.  I firmly believe that senior citizen discounts should NOT be offered, they should be asked for.  I guess it's vanity, but I would rather believe I still look too young for one of those.  And the crummy thing was that, according to McDonalds, who caters to the very young set, I WAS eligible for it!

SIGH...

Which brings me to the reason I am writing this blog this early morning.  It's not just me that is getting older and moving into a new stage of life.  My children are moving right along with me.  They are ALL growing up now.  I've been a mom for 38 years.  With birth, fostering and adopting, it's been rare that there has not been a baby in my house for most of those years.  But now, there's not.  And I'm thinking, the way my back feels and my bones ache, that likely, except for grandchildren, that part of my life is probably over.  I hung onto it for about twenty years longer than most of my friends.  I have loved raising children so much.  And I'm not completely done yet.  It's just that it seems the baby part is over.

My youngest child is six years old, and growing quickly.  Recently, I have realized that having a child who thinks I can do no wrong, and is so dependent on me is fast coming to an end.  It's funny what can bring you to that realization, although it has been at the back of my mind for a while.
We went to Legoland with our homeschool group.  I don't take my children to places like that very often, so I decided to go ahead and spent the massive amount of money for seven of us to attend - mainly because we were getting a group discount, which barely made if affordable.  Later, Angel-Leah grabbed my cell phone and went through the pictures, and then hotly declared that the only people I took pictures of were Mary Susannah, Cynthia and Tommy.

"Mary Susannah and Cynthia confiscated my phone and took pictures of themselves!"  I defended myself.  "And the rest of you ran away, and Tommy was the only one who wanted to hang out with me!"

And it hit me how true that was.  Even Selah, who is only a year older than Tommy, spent her time with big sister Angel-Leah.  I think, though, Legoland was too big and too loud for Tommy to feel like Luke could take care of him.  So he opted to spend the day with me.

We took selfies on the airplane that I had to peddle like mad to keep up in the air:

And I caught him in a picture while he was trying to catch criminals:

It was a long day, but very fun.  As Tommy said once when he could barely talk: "Me (Tommy) and Mommy, on a team!"

Yesterday, we pulled up in the parking lot of our homeschool co op.  I walked around the back of the car and opened the hatch.  Big and little kids grabbed their things and ran off to the door, leaving me standing there alone - except for Tommy.  He stood chattering away, waiting for me.  I smiled at him and remembered Legoland.  Me and Tommy, on a team.  We walked into the church building together.  Later, at lunchtime, my kids ran to find their friends, not acknowledging me at all, except for Tommy, who also ran to sit with his friends, except that he glanced back, just making sure mommy was there.  And I was.

I guess what this mommy, who was been mothering for nearly 40 years and has 12 children, wants to leave with you this morning is just this:

They grow up.  Even when you have 12 children, eventually, the time of having little ones is going to end.  Those sleepless nights, those clingy days when you get nothing done except rocking the baby, the messy house, the diapers, the nursing...

It ends.  They get married.  They go to college.  They might even move off to Viet Nam.

And all you have is the memories.

And no one left to take selfies on the airplane with.  In fact, you don't even get on the airplane anymore - unless your grandchild wants you too.  Which is good, too!

Enjoy them.  It so fleeting.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.  Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

"Rocking" our babies

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait til tomorrow
For babies grow up, I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs, and dust go to sleep
I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep.

This morning, I was awake around 6.  I got up for a few minutes and bushed my teeth and did a few other things, then settled back into bed to do my Bible reading on my nook.  Wasn't long, though, before Tommy came creeping down the stairs.  Still not quite 7 in the morning, he crawled in under the covers and burrowed into my body.  Soft breathing told me he had fallen back asleep.
I laid there and held  him for a few minutes, and contemplated my day.  There were quite a few things I wanted to get done before I took my newly adopted daughters (well, okay, it's been a few months, and I have procrastinated terribly...), Cynthia and Selah, to the Social Security office in Cleburne to get their names changed on their SS cards.  The more I thought about all there was to do, the more I wanted to get up.  I was getting hot and sweaty laying there.  I started to try and move my arms out from under my sleeping son.  His eyes slowly opened and he looked up at me, then his eyelids drifted slowly closed again and he snuggled closer.

And I remembered this poem.

And I thought, "I'm 'rocking' my baby.  All those things I need to do can wait."  I tossed the covers off my hot body but left them on Tommy, and I settled in to enjoy holding my little guy a little longer, because I've been a mommy long enough to know the truth in the line "babies grow up, I've learned to my sorrow."

We did finally leave the soft bed, and my day began in earnest.  But I've thought about "rocking" our babies all day long.  And I realize that the "rocking" should never end just because they have gotten too big to fit in our laps.

Tommy came to us a sick, sad little boy.  One day shy of six months old when he moved in with us, I was his fourth mommy.  He had attachment issues that we had to work through.  He was a large baby and I'm a small mommy, but we could rock.  And rock, we did, and it got us through those first few months, and helped us learn to love and trust each other:

Tommy wasn't the only baby I rocked.  I've gone through a lot of rocking chairs in my 37 years of being a mother.  I only wish I had more pictures on my computer to show them all...

Rocking carries on into the next generation, too.  I always made up songs when I rocked my baby.  Brillant song writer that I am, I sang lyrics such as, "Mommy loves her little baby.  Mommy loves her little baby.  Mommy loves her little baby.  Oh how Mommy loves her baby."
Imagine my surprise as those first two babies grew up and had babies of their own, and one day, when baby number two, Celeste, was visiting, I heard her in the next room, rocking her baby and singing, "Mommy loves her little baby..."
"Hey, Celeste!"  I called.  "Where'd you learn THAT song??"
"Oh, mom!"  she laughed.  "It's just so mindless..."

Her babies grew up, too, and her oldest is leaving for college in a few weeks.  Not much time left for 'rocking' now...

As I thought about rocking babies today, I thought: should our 'rocking' stop when they outgrow our laps?  Just because they are big, does their need for 'rocking' stop?

I don't think so...

What are some ways we can 'rock' our older kids, even on up into the teen years, and beyond?  Don't big kids need to feel love, too?

I remembered a lanky firstborn son who always waited until all his little brothers and sisters were in bed to come into my room and talk.  He would pace and wave his arms as he told me the things he thought about during the day.  I remember I would close the book I was reading to make sure my eyes did not travel back to the pages.  He needed me to concentrate on what he was saying.  It was my way of  'rocking' my big boy.

In fact, I remember another lanky teenage son who still laid on the end of my bed and listened as I read to his much younger siblings.  And now that he is a grown man who lives only part time at our house, at the end of the day, when all the little ones are asleep, he comes to talk, too.

 Angel-Leah, even at the age of nine and a good reader, wants to be read too.  If I will read just a couple of chapters, it is the equivalent to 'rocking' her.  Her love tank is filled up.  Surely I can find time to do that for her?

Mary Susannah likes to stop at Starbucks.  Other coffee shops won't do, there is something special about that one.  A trip to the thrift shop where she can buy things for her hope chest are a thrill for her.  I like to 'rock' her by doing that with her.  I should do it more often.  Maybe I will!

I only took Cynthia to the SS office today, and we stopped off at Braum's afterwards for ice cream.  Just the two of us.  And yes, I bought a large, the best way to 'rock' her!!

Take time, and 'rock' your babies.

Because they grow up, we've learned to our sorrow...

Yeah, there is always a goofball in the bunch...

In fact, sometimes there are a whole lot of goofballs...

But regardless, they grow up:

 So quiet down, cobwebs, and dust go to sleep..

...while you lay in bed and cuddle a few more minutes, or make a trip to Starbucks, or read another book...

...because babies don't keep...

Spring at my house

Psalm 24:1  The earth is the Lord's, and everything in it, the world and all who live in it.

The years go by, and I'm getting older.  Sixty years old is just around the corner.  A couple of my grown sons think I should sell my country place and move into the city where life will be less complicated and it will eventually be easier to "take care of me."  I counter that they are not taking into account that although I might be older, I live the life of a younger person, with young children still living with me.  Imagine poor Luke living on a city lot.  As my son Gage used to say when we would visit relatives, "You can't even hit a baseball without it landing in someone else's yard!"

This week, the warm weather makes us realize that spring has sprung.  And with spring, comes "a few of my favorite things..."
And makes it very plain the reason I never, ever want to move away from my little place...

I walked that pasture with an empty feed sack, making sure it was free of trash.  Then I mowed it.  For the entire 12 years I have lived here, it's looked horrible.  Some of the men of the house (mainly the ones that want me to sell) would not let me mow it with the riding lawn mower.  But they grew up and moved away, and I can talk Max into anything, so he taught me how to use it and for days, I mowed.  I have discovered that being on a roaring riding lawn mower is one of the most relaxing things you can do!  Add children running through the grass while you mow and it's a paradise.  I am so PLEASED with how it looks now!

And the bulbs Mary Susannah and I have planted are beginning to bloom.  She and I have decided to plant these all over, more and more every year.  It will be so pretty eventually and smell so good!!

It wouldn't be spring without a new litter of kittens.  This momma cat didn't have much luck last year; her kittens kept disappearing and the one that was left was wild, and eventually disappeared too.  So this time I put her in the breezeway.  She and the kitties are safe and the kids can tame them.  Which they are very willing to do.  Baby kittens = happy, happy children!

Today, I walked out to feed the bunnies and found three baby's on the ground.  This silly momma bunny had shunned her nesting box and given birth in the space behind it, which caused the babies to fall through the wire mesh.  I quickly gathered up the babies and all the hair I could find and put them in the box.  One baby was covered with ants and didn't make it.  The other two are lively, so maybe she will take care of them.  Hopefully, we will be seeing more baby bunnies in the next weeks.  They are all bred and fixed up with nesting boxes in a nice shelter...I will give daily pep talks about the importance of USING the nesting boxes.  I hope they listen!!

Baby chicks are hatching like crazy, much to my little ones delight.  Having a strong 8 year old son is quite a plus these days: he and I backed the truck up to an old empty water trough, loaded it up while Tommy and Selah sat in the truck bed and pulled on it, then we unloaded it in my "bird shed."  The baby chicks that have hatched and dried so far are settled.  We took 23 out of the incubator this morning, and we have lots and lots more hatching.  My only problem is trying to convince my children that it is NOT good for the baby chicks for us to open the incubator door and "check" on the progress every 30 minutes or so.  I am thinking of borrowing Cynthia's "beats" headphones and playing music really loud into my ears so I won't hear them beg anymore.  I could just walk around shaking my head to the beat of the music, because I know they will be asking me every time I see their mouths moving...

And those turkeys and geese whose pictures I showed you a blog or two back?  Well, they are getting BIG!!  And smelly....I will be so glad when I can move them outdoors!!

Last, but not least, sweet son Max surprised me one day with a raised garden bed.  I haven't gotten much in it yet, but I'm trying.  I hope to finish it up this weekend.  I am terrible with gardens, but maybe I can do it this time.  I even ordered those 'grow boxes' you can see on the left to try and keep my watermelon plants alive.  I could live on watermelon alone in the summer!

So yes, I know, my house needs a LOT of work, but I love it.  I mean, I dearly love it.  I can't imagine ever moving from here.  And I especially can't imagine moving when spring rolls around!

Mom hints: Enjoy being at home

The fruit of the Spirit is...joy.  Galatians 5:22

You are home with your children, day after day after day.  Every day seems the same: get up, fed everyone, get everyone dressed, clean the bathrooms, clean the kitchen, wash the clothes, wash the dishes, settle squabbles, pay bills...

It's enough to make you want to chuck it all and get a job!

But wait - this IS your job!  Don't be fooled into thinking that taking an outside job will be more fun or glamorous than being at home.  It won't.

Being a stay at home mother - a homemaker - is the highest calling of a woman.  It doesn't have to be boring, dismal drudgery.

Do your job, and do it well.  Don't let your house be a messy place that's no fun to look at.  Clean it.  Clean it early in the day so that it's done and you can enjoy the peace that comes from having an orderly place to live in.  If you clean it every.single.day, it will only take minutes.

Don't have a clue how to get your home in order?  Here is a place to learn:  flylady  This is a wonderful site with lots of hints and tools to get your house under control, and keep it that way.

If you are a homeschooling mom, be assured you don't have to spend hours and hours and hours doing school.  Yes, you are a homeschool mom, but that is not all you are.  See the first paragraph.  Those are all your jobs, too.  I determined many many years ago that our homeschool would not last more than two hours a day, and I have stuck to that.  Over the years, I've learned that all learning does not have to come from textbooks.  We read, we visit the museum, we go on field trips with our co op.  I've been a homeschooling mom for 22 years, and I have success stories now to show that I have done my job and done it well.  That will come for you, too, if you can keep it light, and keep it fun.

And lastly, make your home a place you enjoy.  What are your interests?  What do you like to look at?  Surround yourself with those things.

I happen to love birds.  I have chickens, turkeys, and geese outside.  I usually have a few birds inside, too.  Recently I read a book about Tasha Tudor.  Did you know she had 41 birds?  I decided if she can have 41 birds, so can I.  I'm on my way - between son Tommy and I, we have nine.  The bird mart show is next month.  I plan to go!  For now, here's my favorite, little Manderly:

My house sounds like spring all the time.  Well, daughter Rachael thinks it just sounds loud and annoying.  But I love bird songs, and I love to hear Manderly saying "Hello.  Hello.  Birdy, birdy birdy " when he wants my attention.

I also love raggedy Ann dolls, so I collect them, and scatter them around my house:

Things that make soothing noises are nice, like the wind chimes son Gage brought me home from Viet Nam and now hang in my bedroom window:

Little lighted water fountains from WalMart are soothing, too:

As are big water fountains, like this one I got at a garage sale for $10.  Today, it is bubbling away in the rain:

I absolutely love this clock I bought for $5 at another garage sale.  It has a beautiful chime, but it's quirky and it chimes at four minutes past the hour, instead of on the hour.  Maybe that's why it was only $5?  I don't know, but I just love that it does that!

Last but not least, it's always good to have a hobby.  And as much as I love raising chickens, I think I love crocheting more.  Especially when I find shimmery yarn and a beautiful pattern:

I guess I will never understand why anyone would want to work outside the home,  if it is possible to stay home?  I ran a home daycare for years, because I hated working away.

So the keys I have found to being happy at home:  keep your house clean, it really isn't that hard.  Not spotless, but clean enough that you aren't embarrassed if someone drops over unannounced.  Surround yourself with fun things that you love and that soothe.  Have a hobby you really enjoy.

There's no place like home!!

Family traits

I've been a mother for 36 years, and I have always loved it.  I've never wanted to be anything else more than I have wanted to be a mom. I loved taking care of my children as babies.    I've loved watching my babies grow into strong, healthy, beautiful adults.

All families have certain things that make them alike.  Several of my children have the full, rounded face of my husband's side.  A few of them have the high cheekbones that belonged to my grandmother, who I loved dearly.  A couple of them have the dimple in their chin that belonged to my father.  Some have Bill's blue eyes.  A couple of them have my green/brown eyes.  And some have my height, which the boys of the family are not crazy about!  Sorry, guys!

When Bill and I got into our 50's, we adopted several children.  I can remember thinking one or twice that something was wrong with a couple of them in particular, because they were too thin, their chest bones didn't look right, and other various things, before catching on to the fact that because they had different DNA, their bodies just looked different from the seven babies I gave birth too.  That brought me a lot of relief - more than someone who doesn't have both biological and adopted children might realize.

It's funny how some of the adopted and some of the biological children have some of the same traits:  Luke has a birth mark that almost matches two that Spencer has, although in a different places.  Tommy has a freckle in the same place that Mary Susannah does.  I really enjoy that!

While I had noticed these things, they were never brought home to me as hard as they were this morning.

Luke came to us as a little baby.  Well, he didn't exactly come to us that way....He was my oldest daughter's foster child in the beginning.  It was because I loved his big sister - the same big sister who moved into our home as a foster/adoptive placement (seven years after Luke was) last month, that we got our foster/adopt license.  Because I wanted to adopt his siblings, I took care of Luke most of the time he was in our daughter's foster home.  I thought we would adopt all three siblings, and I wanted to bond with the baby.  In the end, the older two siblings were returned to their mother, and we adopted Luke.  He was 12 months old when he was made our adoptive placement, 18 months old when the adoption was finalized.

Luke is a 'cute in a funny way' little guy.  He has lots of quirky things:  Ears that stick out and don't match.  Eyes that completely close when he smiles.  And a funny little ball in his belly button...

I used to kiss that little belly button when I changed his clothes and diapers.  I would run my finger over it and tease him, asking him where he got that bubble.  It's a hard little round ball, set into his belly button.  I just figured that when he was born, the cord didn't fall off right, or maybe the doctor pulled on it or something.

A little over a year ago, we got a call that Luke's siblings, including that older sister we got our license hoping to adopt many years ago, were back in the foster care system and had been released for adoption.  If you follow my blog posts, you will know all the heartache and trouble that has gone on since then.  But God is good, and the sister and a new little sister were placed with us as foster/adoptive placements last month.  We will finalize the adoption the very first chance we get.  It takes about six months.

Little sister, who I call Miss S until I can publish her name, sometimes has a hard time.  She was taken from her parents about the time she turned four years old.  We are her third foster home in two years.  She has trust issues.  She acts out a bit.  Knowing I am going to be her mommy, rather than a temporary foster mother, spurs me to work harder than usual with her.  I am going to be responsible to God for the next twelve years of her life.

So when she spent a whole morning crying and throwing a tantrum before school recently, I knew I needed to get to the bottom of this.  I spent the whole day going over in my mind the research I had done.  One thing I remembered was that when you adopt an older child, you sometimes need to go back to babyhood with them, and do some of the parenting things the two of you have missed together.  So even though I would not normally give in to tantrums, I decided I would dress her each day, just like she was a toddler instead of a six year old girl fully capable of dressing herself.  We've been doing that for a week or so.

This morning, I was dressing her before school.  As I pulled up her little leggings, I saw it -

Miss S has a bubble in her belly button.  Just like Luke's.  It was amazing - the thing I thought was a "misstep" in Luke's little body is actually a family trait.  It nearly brought me to tears - something only a mommy will understand.
Had Miss S never moved in, if Luke had not had the blessing of having at least a couple of biological siblings in our home, we would not have known that family trait.  Miss S thought that was pretty fun, to have a belly button bubble like Luke's.  Luke was not so impressed.  Maybe it's a male thing?

Such a little thing.  Such a big thing.  I'm so glad, as their mommy, to get to know it!

Rainy day outing

Changes are always hard.  Even changes that you really, really, REALLY want to happen.  Changes you have waited thirteen months for, and thought for about six of those that the changes were not going to happen...

But they did.  And while we are happy, we've also had kind of a rough time...

So when the grandkids called wanting to come over, I felt for one of the few times of my life that maybe I couldn't quite do it this week.  So I offered a day out instead, and I would take them back home afterwards.

Yesterday was pretty hard, with the little ones spending the entire day tattling on each other.  So even though we woke up to rain, I decided that we were going to go ahead, get out of the house and get the grandkids, anyway.  The grandkids felt the same way, a phone call from their mother let me know.

Tell them I'm coming, I assured her!

I picked them up, and we went to the park in the steady rain.  We ate peanut butter sandwiches and animal crackers, me holding my plate under a picnic table to try and keep it dry.  I finally retreated to the car while the kids played on the merry go round.  It wasn't long, though, before they felt done.

Besides, the park wasn't really their main goal.  The Botanic Gardens was where they really wanted to be.  The park has swings and climbing things, but the Gardens have ponds, creeks and turtles. And the big girls had cameras.

Can someone tell me how I have lived in Texas all but six years of my life, and have been a mommy for 36 years, and have never discovered until now that Botanic Gardens is a wonderful place to spend a free of charge afternoon?

I hate that I can only show my new daughters from the back right now:

But I am being promised that they will be made adoption placements very soon, and then I can show the world how beautiful they are!

In the meantime, I can show you my other beautiful kiddos (although my pictures of Tommy were all blurry ):

 

 And beautiful grand daughter Chloe:

 

It seems like when ever I am with grandson Mikey these days, he is catching turtles!  

It was a great afternoon, even if little sister, Miss S, did fall into the creek:

 She loved Botanic Gardens.  I thought it was funny once, watching her look at the fish in that beautiful setting, how loud the highway was right next too it.  It seems like we can't get away from highways, either at home, or at the park.  Can you see it in the background?  It seemed VERY out of place!

 

It was nice to see Miss S and Angel-Leah make peace with each other and act like the sisters they are now.  For the first time in five days, they were united enjoying the flowers:

We needed this day.  Rain and all, it turned out great.  Sometimes, you've just got to get away!

Beautiful children

We went to a funeral this week.  It was a very sweet funeral of a much loved lady who was nearing her 90th year.  She was the mother of Bill's brother in law.  I didn't know her well, but I wish I had - the people who spoke and sang at the funeral obviously loved her much. My son Max remembered that she always made coconut cream pies for him when she knew he was coming.  I heard a lady behind me whisper to her friend, "She never missed a service.  She was there Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday night."  I felt a bit convicted...
The preacher agreed in his eulogy.  He said that after this lady was diagnosed with cancer, sometime other parishioners would call and tell him they weren't going to be at services because they had a headache.  "I'll ask Miss Liz to pray for you,"  he said he would tell them, because Miss Liz would be sure to be there, even with the pain of her cancer.  That was usually enough and the person on the other end of the phone would be at services, he said, laughing.  It was obvious he loved her very much.

After the funeral, we were all invited back to church for a meal.  Our family went, Bill and I and our five youngest children.  Bill's extended family doesn't have a lot of children in it.  I'm not sure why that is, because it is certain that they love children.  But regardless, when this family gets together, my children are usually the only ones there, and they get much attention.  This day was no exception.
One thing I heard throughout the day, both by family and people I had never met before, was how beautiful my children are.  I have to admit, I agree!  Beau was especially fussed over, because he has grown into a man now:

And no, I'm not ready to marry him off, so don't email me pictures of your daughters!!  :o)

But then, they are ALL beautiful, pretty Celeste is the only one missing from the first picture:

Someone asked me how I managed to have ten children, and all of them beautiful!  I jokingly replied it was because Bill and I are so beautiful, ourselves.
Then last night, I was reading a new book after all the kiddos went to bed.  In it, the main character was talking about a family who lived in the hills.  She said there were many children in the family, and they were all ugly.  At least, she thought so until she got to know one of the sisters.  The more she knew her, the more beautiful she became, until this person thought, "Why, she isn't ugly at all!"

I thought about that...

What is beautiful?  Here is a dictionary definition:

adjective

1.

having beauty;  having qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think about, etc.; delighting the senses or mind: a beautiful dress; a beautiful speech.

So it doesn't have to just be a perfect face, it is something that "gives great pleasure.. to see" I thought of three things that are beautiful to see in a child:  Good health, nicely dressed, and happy.

As mom's, we are responsible for our children's health.  Healthy children are a joy to look at, and usually, a joy to be around.  If you are pregnant, are you taking your vitamins and eating healthy, well balanced meals?  This is the very start.  Once baby is here, are you breastfeeding?  Again, as a mommy, it is the very best you can do for your child.

Now that they are older, are you being careful to provide healthy meals?  Or are you throwing a box of sugar laden, food colored cereal on the table?  Processed lunch meat on white bread?  Come on, mom, you can do better for your children...

That food is okay once in a while, but it should be the exception rather than the rule.

How about how your dress your child?  Do their clothes fit?  I remember going to a foster care meeting one day and I could almost tell which of the foster children were welcomed into the family by how they were dressed.  Some were wearing ill fitting, worn out looking clothes that obviously came from charity, others were dressed like well care for children.  I'm not saying thrift store clothes are wrong.  We went to Goodwill ourselves yesterday.  Mary Susannah found name brand Aeropostale clothes mixed in with everything else there.  They cost the same amount as the worn out looking shirts.  She found a trendy skirt.  She is turning into the queen of thrift store clothes.  I, on the other hand, don't often have the patience to dig through the tremendous amount of clothes that she does.  I was looking for shirts for Luke and didn't find anything I thought was nice enough for him to wear.  I've sort of learned that to find clothes for Luke, I need to go to the Burleson Goodwill.  I don't know what the difference is, but it's there.  This Cleburne Goodwill, however, is great in the book department!!

And lastly, is your child happy?  A happy, clear countenance is priceless.  A well loved older man who has passed on to glory, Richard Mummau, told me once that a Christian always has a clear countenance.  I could write a whole other blog about that, maybe I will someday.

Do your children have a clear countenance?   What do you feed their minds on?  Are they innocent?

One lady at the funeral told me that Luke was the cutest little boy she had ever seen.  I know what she means.  While Luke may have funny ears and a skinny body and he doesn't talk much in public,  he was born smiling and hasn't stopped since.  He doesn't need to talk, his face is very expressive and  says it all.  He looks like a child who has never seen a bad day.  Yeah, he can be naughty, when he is, it's hard for me to discipline him (although I do, honestly) because I don't like to do anything to make him cry or be sad.  When the church we were attending made it a rule of membership that the children HAD to attend the church school, I knew I would never be a member.  Trying to explain it to them, I told one lady, "I can't imagine that I would have to go all day and not see Luke's smile!"  Her reply?  "Oh, you will get used to it."

Used to it?  I don't WANT to get used to it, I told her.  She looked at me like she could not comprehend that...

So momma's, take stock: are your children beautiful?  

I think I can hear a lot of "yes's" out there!!

Country Life - my heart's desire

Psalm 20:3-5 May He give you what your heart desires and fulfill your whole purpose.


I don't love EVERYTHING about the country life.  Rattlesnakes bother me a lot.  I had already had one experience in May, when one surprised me in the henhouse.  You can read all about that HERE.  That was quite enough, thank you very much, especially since we have lived in this house for ten years, and it was only the second time we have encountered one.  I figured it should be at least ten more years before we had to do that again.  So I was quite dismayed to hear the kids coming running in screaming earlier this week that there was one in the baby bunny cage.
Beau quickly came to the rescue with the .22, but not before the snake had struck two baby bunnies and they died an awful death.  Poor little things.  Why would even a snake want to harm something so sweet and cuddly?

Angel-Leah spent the rest of the evening in tears.  But the dad of this house thought the rattlesnake would make a great snack: after all, they had tasted it at the rattlesnake round up.  So he and Beau skinned the mean old baby bunny murderer (Beau is preserving the skin) and Bill took the rest inside to the stove and fried it right up.  Gross.  No I did NOT eat it - but I think Angel-Leah and I were the only ones who didn't...

Now, on to one thing I do love about living in the country...

Luke's two sisters are staying with us.  If you remember, they were the ones we were asked to adopt, we said yes, went through the whole process to be licensed with the private agency , only to then be turned down by CPS.  You can read that story HERE.  Anyway, they are still allowed to come for visits with their brother, my son Luke.  They will be with us for two weeks.  We are having fun, and so glad they are here.

I also have three grandchildren staying with me for a few days.  To say I have a houseful is an understatement.  But hey, we live in the country and there is a LOT to do.  Big sister loves to build, and she has quite a construction crew.  They have been working on the tree house out in the chicken coop for days.  Big sister is the president, which means she calls all the shots.  Grandson Mikey is the vice president.  Angel-Leah tells me she is the presidents servant, and Tommy is the mascot.  Until today, Luke and Beetle were not in big sisters crew, they were going to make their own clubhouse.  But after two days of watching how much better her work was going, they decided to join her.  Little sister, however, is a different story.  The work is hard.  The boards are heavy.  It's hot.  She didn't know the rules.  She didn't hear the other kids when they read them to her.  She stood on the boards while they tried to build.  She didn't know she was standing on the boards  She didn't know she was supposed to say sorry when she did something wrong.  She didn't know that when you DO say you are sorry, you aren't supposed to roll your eyes.  It goes on and on.  So she is regularly kicked out of the club.  Today, "I" made the rule that each day is a new start, and she can try over.  I think she lasted a total of three minutes before she was kicked out again...

This club has a password.  Before you enter, you must tell President Big Sister the password.  Here is mascot Tommy whispering it to President Big Sister:

Here's Angel-Leah working hard.  I wonder why she doesn't work so hard when it's time to clean her room?  At least it's air conditioned there!  That's grandson Beetle chilling on the bike, and little sister wishing she hadn't broken the rules:

The rules are posted on the front of the clubhouse.  There is a zero tolerance law for breaking them, it seems:

When we found the first snake, Bill spent much time cleaning the chicken pen.  He picked up all the boards, cut down brush and low hanging limbs, raked grass and threw away broken toys.  It was amazing the work he did.  It made hunting eggs back there so much nicer and so much less scary.  Unfortunately, the chicken pen is back to being a construction site, and things are messy again:

But honestly, I don't care.  I have ten kids over here, and the beauty of living in the country is that they never run out of things to do.  It's a wonderful place to raise children and have grandchildren over to play.  I am so blessed to have this messy little place. 

I'm not tired anymore!

Many years ago, our church had a split.  I was new there, and this trouble devastated me.  I stumbled around for a while, trying to figure out where I belonged, and in the end, I went back to the church that brought me to this tiny Texas town.  I've been back around a year now, and feel fairly comfortably settled back in.
Last Sunday, after our fellowship meal, I was talking to several ladies.  One of them, a much younger one of them, remarked that since I came back this last time, I seem "tired."

Well...hmmmm...I am tired...

Quite a few things happened to me while I was doing that stumbling around that were pretty hard...

I lost my beloved MiMi, my little foster daughter that I cared for for twenty of her twenty six months of life.  She went back to her biological family, which is a good thing, but it completely broke my heart, and my heart still has a little crack in it with her name engraved there:

Six days after little MiMi left, I was asked to bring five month old Tommy - Angel-Leah's biological brother, into our home.  So we did, and what a joy that little boy is.  But it was HARD at first.  He was still very sick from his heroin addiction in the womb.  I was his fourth mommy in less than six months, and he had some major attachment problems.  Before long, he was having rages, and I was at a loss for a while how to help him, but after a suggestion from our bishop that I lay my hands on him at night and pray, God lead us to the Feingold diet, and Tommy is doing GREAT!!


And then, my father died this fall.  He was sick for three long months, and it was so hard to lose him.  But even while I grieve, I can just see him in heaven.  I always picture him with his hands behind his back and his chin jutting up, walking around looking at mansions like he used to look at houses while he was here on earth with us.  I'm going to see him again someday, and that makes me really happy.  We just have to wait a bit, but that reunion is coming!

So, I got to thinking about this.  What have I got to be tired about?  It's spring, and spring looks like this:

Whoops, I mean, it looks like this:

Why should I be tired, right?

So...I'm done being tired.  Associated Content removed the program I was writing articles for, so I lost that writing job while they revamp.  The teacher of my writing course thinks I have a few publishable articles, so rather than spending much more time writing new ones, I am going to work on seeing if anyone really would publish what I write.

And...I'm going to start back to work on my book.  I'm going to get that done.  I cry and cry while I write it, but those tears are good, and they water my soul. 

Life is so good, and too precious to waste being tired.  Today we cleaned the yard because my nephew wants to come take pictures in the morning, and we sure don't want to be embarrassed!!  Now we are going to leave to visit a new friend who has been coming to that church I'm back at.  Then this evening, we are going to have ice cream sundaes for dinner to celebrate the fifth anniversary of Luke's adoption.  Maybe I'll write a blog about that, if I have time...

Because I refuse to be tired anymore, and I've got lots of stuff to do!!