I've seen this a few times and thought it kind of interesting. I can't say that I think it's very correct, but I'll pretend for fun's sake that I look like Angelina Jolie! (Yeah, right...!)

<Edit>Here's another one with an updated hair cut photo:

</Edit>

Of all Sundays to stay home with sick kids, this is the last one I would pick. I mean, it's the one Sunday of the year that I'm practically guaranteed a peaceful and orderly departure for church, having a whole extra hour to prepare and all. (That's one perk to having toddlers and infants: they don't know to sleep more so you're wake-up time is automatically improved, even without personal motivation.)

But here I am.

(Yup, it's true, Carina. I haven't been out of the house since going to Mom and Dad's for Family Dinner on Tuesday night. Scary, I know...)

Jackson's taking a nap and Bronwyn just finished the arduous and lengthy process of eating a small breakfast without the capability of breathing through her nose. (Gulp, wheeze, chew, gag, etc.) Daniel has begun the first week of a series on courtship for Sunday School. I wish I could hear him, because every time he prepares this stuff it only gets better.

<Edit>
I had more written here about some other things altogether, but after re-reading just now, decided to erase it for fear that it may be misconstrued. That's the tricky thing about this weblog stuff: words on a page can be read a million different ways.

At any rate, I started to watch a movie earlier and then turned it off within 10 minutes. This may be an "extra" morning in my weekly planning, but
there is plenty to do. Besides, my body might not be present with this local expression of His Body, but my heart is still needing to spend a morning honoring Him. So this is my purpose today.

And you want to know what my worship thus far has been today? Holding sniffly, bleary-eyed children, washing a host of dishes left-over from last night, shining my sink and scrubbing my stove. The thing that never ceases to amaze me is that as I stood at my sink and looked at the full parking lot across the golf course, I knew that He treasures this worship as much as He loves the worship I get to offer other Sunday mornings.

We serve a really big God.
</Edit>

Bronwyn is 2 years, 2 months, 2 weeks, and 2 days old. I guess you can't get any more "two" than this.

Gabriel was a tough baby. The things that I'd expected to be easy weren't (like napping), and the things that I'd expected would be difficult? Well, they were. Looking back, I didn't even realize that his mobility (crawling by 6 months, up stairs by 7 months, etc.) and speech (definite words by 10 months; my friends would tell you he was trying to speak even earlier) developed quickly, but I know now that he did it all fast--and I also know why. This boy takes after me in many ways, but the first and foremost similarity lies in his overwhelming opinions. My dear son has opinions and feelings about absolutely everything, and he feels very strongly about them. By 17 months he was telling me how he wanted his sandwich cut, if his sock felt "funny," whether or not he approved of dinner, that his pillow was placed on the bed improperly, and more. By 17 months he'd also been disciplined more times than I care to recount.

So what was so "terrible" about two, I wondered? As far as Gabriel is concerned, the going's been rough since he learned to slide across a room on his tummy!

Perhaps this is why God saw fit to send Bronwyn along. She is my "textbook" baby in every way, beginning with a 12-hour labor. (As opposed to 51 hours with Gabriel and... well... 3+ days with Jackson.) As a newborn, Bronwyn actually slept. By 4 months she was sleeping every night from 7pm to 7am, with one very predictable feeding at 2am. Crawling at 8 months, walking at 14.

And then she turned two. And while she is still a milder personality than her counterpart older brother, something dramatic happened over the summer months. It was as though she developed a sin-nature overnight. (Don't worry, I know she was really born with it.)

Now I know what's so terrible about two.

But I must confess that, while an understanding of the phrase "Terrible Two's" is quickly dawning, I still love this age. It is an age of discovery, of overnight growth. One day she wasn't even asking about the out-of-doors and the next she was telling me of the seasons. It isn't always convenient to have your two-year-old telling you that she doesn't want to wear that pair of pants, but I sure do love seeing her likes and dislikes emerging.

She may have been easier to manage a year ago, but I also didn't know that purple is her favorite color (nevermind that she still can't call it by its name properly) or that she would rather eat a raisin bran muffin than a PB&J sandwich. She couldn't put her shoes on, she couldn't pick out her own hair barrettes, she couldn't tell me what it was she felt she was coloring as she scribbled violently across a page.

Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, MO-OM! I need a tiiii-ssue.

Dei-Dei (her name for Gabriel), don't touch my baby Hannah!

NO! I don' like that bite.

Jack is takin' my 'troller! It's MINE! MINE! MINE!

There is a time and purpose for every season. And I love my girl in each one!

Mom, I wanna 'nuggle with you.

Sing me a song?

P'ay for my boo-boo, Mom.

Dei-Dei is my f'end.

An Autumn Day

The following are some excerpts from my journals (real) from this day in years past. I found it interesting to look back.

1998: ...I want to minister good to those around me. I want to live my life constantly wondering how I can bring His love to others. It's the whole idea of my life for them. I want it to be true in me... May I be faithful to sow seed; to remain steadfast in the task He's calling me to.

1999: Ryan, Kevin and I leave for Pittsburgh this Friday... I know how easily matters of the heart can bring destruction when there is a lack of caution...

2000: Mom and Dad "descended" on me, closing us all three in the front room. They began by reassuring me that I wasn't in trouble; that they had something to talk about. Dad told me he had received a phone call earlier that week from Daniel Paladin... He had called about me.

[2001 doesn't have a journal entry from the 25th.)

2002: These have been priceless days. Days of sitting in Mom's kitchen, coming downstairs in the morning to Merrick's greeting of, "Hi, B'etta..." I know returning home will be wonderful (I miss Daniel), but the following days will be difficult as I return to the quiet and solitude I am still trying to grow accustomed to.

[2003 doesn't have one either.]

2004: Good works can't grant me salvation, but salvation produces good works--if I am walking in the Spirit. So the question I ask myself today is, "What are the works in my life: good or evil?"

2005: Lots continues to take place, but no closing on our house. I am trying to focus on the blessings of this season... Still, I grow increasingly anxious... Baby #3 is almost 29 weeks in the making--just about 6.5 months exactly...

Yesterday, Bronwyn had a mild fever that accompanied a nasty cough and struggling voicebox. All she wanted the whole day long was to sit with Mama or Daddy and 'nuggle.

Today, Bronwyn is feeling a bit more herself, but her big brother is suffering. All he wants is to do is watch Louissa's Keith Urban DVD.

Huh.

* * * * *

First thing Monday morning Daniel and I headed--Jackson in tow--to Syracuse for a day of belated anniversary celebration (Our 2-hour dinner on the actual day was very nice but seemed hardly enough to mark 5 whole years, which must be significant in at least one or two national statistics), as well as tackle some early Christmas shopping. When one lives this far from stores, one must take advantage of every opportunity to do some purchasing! This is okay with me, since I much prefer getting my Christmas shopping before Thanksgiving and the "holiday rush." (Trust me: I'm a much nicer person if I don't feel like I have to do everything in a couple short weeks.)

We had a really fun day, including stops at TJ Maxx, Target, Marshall's MegaStore, Toys 'R Us, and the Carousel Center Shopping Mall. Oh yeah, we also hit up Panera Breads for bagels (Boy, do I miss those asiago cheese bagels!) at lunchtime, and then we stopped at The Olive Garden for a 9pm dinner before making the 2.5 hour drive home. The shopping is my favorite part; the eating is Daniel's!

* * * * *

Now that we've entered the colder season, our laundry piles have grown. At the end of the day, we have a whole lot more getting tossed in the hamper than a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, like in the summer months. Undershirts, socks, pants, shirt, and sweatshirt... Well, the laundry demands have grown. My 4x/week laundry schedule is no longer sufficient to the task.

Bummer.

* * * * *

Last Friday found me helping Mom with auditions for the spring musical CFA will be putting on. Many nights since then have found me with class and cast lists in hand, mulling over the many talented students and the plentiful opportunities in the musical. This type of task appeals to me on many levels: I love theater and music, and I love  a good puzzle!

(Oh, and for the many who have asked what exactly I'm doing on Friday mornings: I am helping with 2nd and 4th grade art classes this semester.)

* * * * *

But as for me, the nearness of God is my good.

In every moment--the glorious and the ugly--I want Him and only Him to be my source, my joy, my peace, my sufficiency, my consolation. Nothing else. This heart of flesh wants to be dictated by circumstances, disappointments, personal successes and failures, and stages of life; this daughter of God wants to be satisfied in His presence.

It is good.

Three children are drifting to sleep as I sit here in the rocker. My children. This is still amazing to me.

I have a little boy who is extremely gifted. I have a daughter who is vibrant. I have a baby who is soft in every way a person can be.

I love them so.

The First Snow.

And the view from my back window sure does look like Currier & Ives.

Have I ever mentioned that I love the Seasons?

We had our every-3-month visit to the WIC clinic this morning.

Always an adventure.
Never brief.
Worth it because the fat wad of checks (4+ people's worth of milk, cheese, eggs, peanut butter, juice, and more...) that I return home with.
(Hey, if they're going to take money, I'll get as much of it back as I can!)

The last two times I've gone, I've seen the same woman. We had our last babies at the same time in January, and since our three children are almost all the same exact ages, we choose similar appointment times. She's a nice lady. (The "hippie" in her makes me think of some of my favorite ladies --the midwives: over-priced hemp sweaters and "Local Food" bumper stickers on her station wagon and all.)

Today as I conversed briefly with her, I thought about arranging a playdate. The thought crossed my mind because I wondered if she knows Jesus; and I couldn't help but think that I might never find out-- since we're barely crossing paths in an overly-crowded clinic waiting room, our three children absorbing the majority of our attention (one must be on constant guard to keep the toys there out of these innocent mouths and such)-- if I don't try to get to know her in another environment.

But I didn't ask.
And now I wish I had.
I may never see her again.

I am sober.

Our newly adopted "measuring stick" for obedience:
(taken from Shepherding A Child's Heart)

The children must respond to commands...

...without challenge.
...without excuse.
...without delay.

This is a tough measuring stick, particularly for me since it requires my immediate and undivided attention many times throughout the day. (Not that my kids ever say, "No;" or whine; or act as though they never heard me in the first place!) I am glad for a good way to judge Gabriel's and Bronwyn's responses to me, though. And I do feel that we will reap a good harvest; in fact, I am already beginning to taste it!

There's been a lot shared about making ungodly comparisons of late. First at the Mother's Meeting, where needing to hear directly from God what He is wanting of my days came up. Then in Sunday School, as Mom shared about being homemaker and over and over again said that while principles never change, methods do and can and should. The discontent that comes with comparing was considered here, and as I raise my own children I am struck by the need to treat them individually.

So.

I am different than you. What works for me doesn't necessarily work for you, and vice versa. And, as much as I love sharing ideas and taking notes from others, the blueprint for my day needs to come directly from my personal and attentive Creator.

Sometimes, hearing what others do or don't do is freeing. For example, when Pastor Mike told me that there was a time when Judy just didn't try grocery shopping with all the little guys, I was freed. Why? Well, because there I was, standing in food aisles with pickle jars broken on the floor, bags of M&Ms tossed to and fro about the store, crackers and vegetable oil and walnuts and ketchup that I didn't pick out in the grocery cart courtesy of my 1.5-year-old, etc., and I was miserable thinking that I was a complete failure; that every mom can manage her three children while shopping; and that this was simply a reflection of my inabilities since, after all, I know other moms who can shop with many more children in tow.

Maybe it is. Or maybe it just means that my kids are different than yours. Or maybe it just means that I'm different than you.

Still, when Pastor Mike, in casual conversation, recommended that I not do the grocery shopping with the three kids by myself, I wondered why I'd been feeling such pressure to do it all by myself in the first place. Oh wait--I'd been comparing myself to others.

These days, I do my grocery shopping on Daniel's day off (today, incidentally). Sometimes, there isn't time since he often has projects of his own to accomplish on those days. And sometimes this means that we eat a lot of frozen broccoli instead of fresh peppers and that our fruit comes by way of a jar instead of from the produce stand. But we're all healthy and I don't dread grocery shopping any more (I actually enjoy it again!) and, more importantly, I don't hate being a mom as I drag my errant children home after a trip to the store.

My blueprint says to leave the grocery shopping for the good attitude. And, true, some people can have both.

Not me. (At least not now.)

Quotes from the morning:


G: Why do we haf'ta do a lot a lot of cleaning all the time?

Me: Because an orderly and clean house blesses the Lord, blesses Daddy, and blesses us.

G: Well, I think our daddy and our children like messy yellow houses.


Me: Bronwyn, I can't spend all morning re-dressing your babies. You shouldn't just take their clothes off over and over again. Can't you leave Baby Dot's pants on this time?

B: But she keeps leakin' through!

Very good sugar cookies:

Cream together: 1c butter, 2/3c sugar
Beat in: 1 egg
Add: 1tsp vanilla, 2 and 1/2c sifted flour

Mix dough until ingredients are well blended. Chill dough, covered, 2-3 hours. Roll and cut out in desired shapes. Bake 8 minutes at 350* on an ungreased cookie sheet.

For frosting, combine and blend:
2c powdered sugar
2T melted butter
2T milk
1tsp vanilla
(Add more sugar or milk to reach desired consistency.)


Ask: Do I like sugar cookies?
Answer: Yum!
(Uhh... Sinclair joke, maybe???)

It's been a full week. And not just full in the sense of busy (though I must say that it has been), but full in the sense of rich.

--Monday night was the aforementioned Mother's Meeting. Wonderful.

--Tuesday was Daniel's day off, begun with a dr. visit for Bronwyn-girl (well-care) and grocery shopping, and concluded with our first Family Dinner since Jameson made his entrance. I'm only sad that it was our last meal with Jameson until he and his parents return home from Maine in a couple weeks. Also, I began the day with a great quiet time and ended the day with being in bed by 9:30pm (a record for me, I think!), both of which meant that waking with my teething baby wasn't quite as awful as it sometimes is.

--Wednesday night was our annual Missions Night at church, replete with Sergi's pizza and slideshows. I don't think I was the only person walking away from the evening saying, "Wow! We sent 50 people on short-term missions this year!" And to places as close as NYC and as far as China, nonetheless. (Spain, Turkey, Romania, the D.R., and Haiti were the in-betweens.)

--Thursday morning began at 2am for me. Something I ate the night before most certainly did not agree with me, and I spent the next eight hours suffering from a splitting headache, vomitting, and... well... other things.   Fortunately, the "something" was worked out of my system by 1pm and I was back to feeling healthy and energetic. By that time, unfortunately, I was behind schedule and had a lot more to do than time to do it in. So, before we sat down for a quick dinner, Daniel baked the blueberry pound cake I had promised for the baby shower that night, even though he rarely bakes and was very unsure about how to do everything the recipe instructed. It turned out great.

(Have I ever mentioned that I have the best husband in the world?)

The baby shower for Danica and Jameson was lovely: Carina frosted and decorated a beautiful chocolate cake, made by herself (she's getting rather domestic these days!), several ladies brought yummy food (including homemade salsa from her), lots of wonderful gifts were given, and I got a second evening out in one week, this time with my little girl accompanying. Fun all around.

--This morning we were off by 8:15am for week #2 of Friday Program. I am so glad to be able to help with this. The blessing for me is surely greater than it is for any of the children!

Upon arriving home at 11:30am, I fed the baby and put him down for a nap, tucked Gabriel and Bronwyn on the futon watching a movie and eating some food, and helped Daniel sort through BASIC pre-registration forms that we have collected from about 30 students in the last several days. I hadn't been sure I would go this fall since Jackson is getting to a more difficult tag-along age, making the $$ the conference costs hardly seem worth it, but since Daniel is a workshop speaker, we get a room for free! I am so glad to get the chance to join with the students again for this weekend.

Jackson is now up and I am nursing him (thus the 'blogging; they go hand-in-hand, you know); the other kids are still sleeping. It is quiet, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the excitement that has been welling up inside my heart these last few days.

Thank You, Jesus, for a full week.

So it's 2:30pm and I just now showered and dressed for the day. Instead of my personal preparation being the big goal to squeeze around baths, meals, cleaning, etc. like it is most days, I decided getting a few minutes in the Word would be my "before nap" objective. Guess I just hadn't anticipated the kids really taking me up on my declaration that it didn't matter how many times I got interrupted, I would finish my goal!

All three kids are napping at the same time for the first time in a couple weeks. Jackson is out-growing two naps a day, but he struggles to last through the morning to take his nap in the afternoon with Gabriel and Bronwyn instead of over the lunch hour. Some moms intentionally stagger their children's rest. Not me. I like this so much better.

I will mix, roll out, and bake sugar cookies this afternoon; tomorrow they will be frosted light blue for the baby shower tomorrow night in honor of Danica and Jameson. This evening we will all head out to the church's annual Missions Night, which includes dinner--lucky me. I will get to hear stories from all sorts of missions ventures, and I bet I will even get to hear some from my own dear husband's trip that I've not yet heard.

There isn't a whole lot that would seem too exciting. The challenges and frustrations remain. My day rolls along ever as it has.

How does He manage to make it all look so different?

The Mother's Meeting last night was exactly what I needed.

These past several weeks (since the semester began, really), I have been unmotivated and uninspired. When sleepless nights pile up, bad attitudes and fighting abound and the list of to-dos barely gets check-marked before it has to be done again, life begins to feel like one very loooong day and every effort to make moments special and interesting to and for my husband and children are just that: effort. Getting the fall decorations out this year happened because I knew I should. Making nice meals and lighting that candle have been because I knew I'd be glad I did... sooner or later. I've been doing things even though I haven't felt like it, knowing that these moments come and that motherhood means nurturing and caring even now, but my heart has only grown more hopeless as I've fruitlessly awaited a moment of wanting to again.

But when Mom was talking, it was as if a lightbulb--one hanging right before my eyes but hidden in the shadows of discouragement and condemnation--was suddenly turned on.

Oh yeah.

First things first. Him before all else. My heart, my wellspring, guarded diligently.

Many of the books I've been reading of late have been instructional, challenging, and helpful. Books on parenting, discipleship, community, church-life, marriage. My mind has whirled, my ideas have expanded, my heart's been convicted, my repentance is sincere. But I'll be pretty honest with you: I decided a couple weeks ago that I really wasn't up for trying to absord yet another "to do" that only makes me feel more miserable in my attempts at being a church-member, wife, mom, daughter, friend, etc. When there isn't a foundation of purpose in my heart, even good ideas from an anointed and Godly man/woman of God can become a tool in the enemy's hand.

The problem was with me, of course. For example, I was reading the challenges to better mother as me needing to find motivation and inspiration in the stuff around the house... in my children... in my husband. I'll tell you firsthand that this is very frustrating when you've lost sight of your True Motivation.

So when it came time to pray for one another last night, I told them that I need to make Him first again. I need to remember that if nothing else gets done, I want to have spent time with Him. If my 15 minutes with Jesus have to be interrupted 15 times (or more) so that connecting with Him turns into a 2-hour project, I'll continue in my goal of touching and being touched. I'm done "shelving" the idea of guarding my time with Him because there's "just no point in trying." Mom said that if it takes 2 weeks of saying, "No more anything else. We're praying. We're talking. We're worshipping. We're studying," then say that.

Oh yeah.

The Lord. Me as His daughter. Him as my Love.

(And you know what? I bet that as I make loving Him more my daily goal again, He'll prosper my other efforts. He's good at that.)

There a couple big bulges along the ridge of Jackson's top gum. Along with them comes a low-grade fever (worse overnight, of course), poor sleeping, lots of fussing, continual nursing, and a tired mommy. Yesterday morning at church I wasn't quite sure why he looked so bleary-eyed, or why I kept feeling that he had a slight temperature when there were no other indications of being sick, or why he just cried instead of sleeping, but Mom called it right after holding him for a few minutes over lunch. A daring exposure of my finger to his two sharp bottom teeth confirmed that teething is Jack's ailment.

So this morning rolled around and I wasn't too eager to greet the day.

Let me be brutally honest: I'm never eager to greet the day.

However, the Lord has been convicting me about my attitude at the start of each new morning. In His Word He promises new mercies in the morning; He commands His lovingkindness in the daytime; He says His joy comes in the morning. And my part is to sing, declare, bless, and pray in the morning.

Here is me: I have a fussy baby who has finally drifted to sleep but too late for this mother to rest, too, since now the older kids are awake. I have a mountain of laundry (conquered just a few days ago, but re-grown that quickly) awaiting my diligence, bickering to end, little hands to occupy, carpets to be vacuumed, floors to be mopped, beds to be made. There is no telling if all these tasks will take as long as getting breakfast and cleaning up from breakfast took because of my teething infant.

Yet.

I.will.bless.the.Lord.

And in so doing, I am already finding that His joy, His hope, His peace, His presence is my strength. Where there is no vision the people perish. Oh! Let Him be my vision, today!

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
Naught be all else to me Save that Thou art
Thou my best thought, by day or by night
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light

Me.

I get flustered by last-minute planning. I would rather be given a couple hours in an afternoon to take a long nap than be given the fanciest of anniversary gifts. I drink hot chocolate when I miss lunch and am hungry but too lazy to make a meal for myself. I don't get many chances to use the bathroom because I've usually a babe in arms. I hate talking on the telephone but love it when a friend calls. I'm not the sanguine in any crowd yet I might talk your ear off if given the chance. I get overly excited at the prospect of going to someone's house. I have a bizarre phobia of wearing "loud" clothing. I never can have too many bookshelves; bookshelves are my organizational solution for everything. I can always find a million reasons why "they" need your time and attention more than I, but that doesn't change that I need you. I love buying produce and pasta. I watch football with my husband and actually enjoy it. I anticipate the future and dread change, all at the same time.

I.

You?

So five years.

Kind of hard to believe, especially since there have been several moments of late that seem to transport me back in time several years--like walking along North Street yesterday and cresting the "hill" to see a field arrayed in all the glory of autumn. (This is the most beautiful week of the year around here, in my humble opinion.)

I suppose this means I won't be able to excuse myself with claims of being newly married--unless I'm talking with someone who's been married for 50 years, of course. (It's all relative!)

At any rate, most of you already know this, but I'll say it again: the Lord really did bless me with a good guy. I mean, a really good guy. Maybe the best guy.

Definitely, without a doubt, for sure, the best guy for me.

I'm so grateful for these past five years.

(Five years???)

Her big blue eyes looked up at me, her face smeared from the half-eaten chocolate chip muffin in hand: When Aun' Weesa tomin'?

A little over an hour ago, I was headed out the door to the monthly prayer and praise meeting at the church. Instead of the anticipated return home trip at around 8:30pm, I am already back in my living room. The kids are watching Little People before an early bedtime and I am wondering why I bothered trying in the first place.

Yup. You guessed it. My kids didn't make it through the brief sound check/worship practice before I was thoroughly convinced that what we needed was certainly not an all-out battle of wills, which the meeting was almost surely bound to become. Rather than struggling through the entire evening when I'm already tired, I decided a bad attitude was creeping on way too fast and that the quickest way to nip it in the bud was to come home.

I love worshipping with others. I love gathering with the body of Christ. One of the most difficult things for me to give up as a mom isn't my free time, late nights, naps, etc. Far more difficult for me is the relinquishing of frequent and lengthy times shared with my family in the Lord, whether the meetings be at the church or a home or somewhere altogether remote.

Oh, I will never give up trying to make it to every meeting I possibly can, especially since gathering with the brethren is commanded, but sometimes I realize that this is yet one more way my flesh needs to die... my desires need to be put to death... my own hopes and expectations need to be replaced. When the baby is sick, when the toddler is acting up, when the basic disciplines have been ignored: these are the times that what would be more enjoyable for me--more pleasant and immediately rewarding--must be disregarded so that I can make the sacrifice set before me.

I guess what I am getting at is the fact that while my selfish desires and impulses and my bad attitudes might center around things that are not wrong, I am still wrong. And, dear me, it is embarrassing to realize.

News::

::We spent the weekend with dear friends from Pittsburgh. It was so wonderful to have them! Late nights with Mexican Train, lots of food, visiting with some others, Sergi's, etc., made for a very fun several days. It's so priceless to have kindred spirits with whom distance and time can't quench friendship.

(Unfortunately for our guests, my little girl gave their baby girl a bit of a cold. I'm hoping that since Bronwyn seems 100% now that Ally is or will be feeling better soon.)

::Jackson slept until 6am without waking once to eat the last two nights. The price for such good sleeping has been high: no more than a couple cat-naps throughout the day. I'm okay with this pattern for now, as I'm pretty worn out from months and months of multiple wakings per night, but I don't think it is a long-term solution, since it means there is little time for focused cleaning and absolutely no good time for the older kids to play with toys that little fingers and mouths shouldn't be near.

::I read the first book in the Abram's Daughters Series. It was recommended by many of the same people who enjoyed the Mitford Books. Since I began a new naptime and bedtime routine of sitting in the rocker reading until all three children fall asleep this past summer, I've been getting a lot of reading done (a lot might be an understatement). My head is beginning to swim as I plow through books like Shepherding A Child's Heart, The Cost of Discipleship, Building Community, Shame Off You, etc., and I thought some pleasure reading might be a nice change of pace. Unfortunately, our local library doesn't have the rest of the books and I think I've been successfully hooked. Bummer.

::We think a small animal died in the attic, basement, or walls of the unfinished room off the kitchen. The stench in our laundry room reached its climax yesterday and was awful. I couldn't bring myself to do laundry because it meant opening the door. Daniel has not been able to find this animal and is guessing it built a nest in the insulation. So incredibly gross.

::I made it to LIFE Group for the first time this semester on Sunday night. It was so good! I love worshipping with the students. They have such life. I found myself praying that wisdom will only be added to passion and zeal, and that passion and zeal will never be replaced, in my own life as well as in theirs.

::The challenges I thought I encountered with my children as infants and small toddlers is being entirely eclipsed by the attitudes and demands I am now confronted with. More often than not, I reach the end of the day (and sometimes the beginning) as a very, very tired Mommy. My appreciation and admiration for parents who have knowingly repeated these years grows with every day. I daily wonder if I have faith to make the investment I've seen others make.

::On Friday I will get back in the swing of Friday Program for the first time in six years. I'm very much looking forward to getting involved in this area of service; it works well for me that this is one ministry that provides childcare!

That's all for now.