Bronwyn

I told myself I wouldn't completely miss taking note of my oldest girl's special before a new month arrived, and so I'm sneaking this in during the final remaining hours in August.

Bronwyn Eliese, my first daughter, my only black-haired baby, my gift, celebrated another year lived on August 12.

Her ninth year was a big deal!

Academically, she excelled. Her confidence in her math skills blossomed, her interest in art took off, and she proved to be a thoughtful little writer when given assignments. She branched out of her comfort zone in quite a few arenas, including playing basketball for the first time and being the first of all the kids to attend a camp of any sort all on her own.

She hasn't stopped being a continual bright spot in our daily lives: helping with chores, singing while she works, laughing all the time, demonstrating a tenderness toward and a desire to be shaped by the Holy Spirit.

If possible, I think she may be even more easy-going now than she was as an infant. Add to that her genuine heart of gratitude and appreciation and you've got a girl who is easy to bless. That's just plain old fun for her mom and dad!

We're thankful for the example she is in our home of kindness and generosity. She has lots of littler-than-hers eyes watching and I'm not lying when I say that I'm glad they're watching her. I am personally challenged often by how graciously she handles disappointment, how patient she is when others use and abuse her things, and how quickly she forgives.

I love her maturity, and I love that she is perfectly content still being a little girl.

She has a beautiful sweetness and innocence that I pray will grow with each passing year.

We love our Bronwyn-girl!

final week preparations

This is our final week before we officially kick off another school year here in the little yellow house and we are busily sorting, re-working, establishing, and re-establishing in preparation for what's coming.

When your home is the place you do 99.9% of life-- learning, trying, experimenting, repenting, forgiving, working, resting, studying, and more-- it's pretty important that it be accommodating to all those things. Some years we're able to do a more thorough and in-depth toward-that-end overhaul than others; I'm thankful this year is tending toward the more end of the spectrum.

I'm sure this is bizarre to some, but it seems very natural to me that in order to begin another school year we have to weed out the toys and re-organize the linen closet and deep clean the kitchen cabinets and cut down the tomato plants, in addition to the more likely tasks of sorting out books and getting rid of broken crayons and re-filling binders.

I benefit hugely from having a clean slate.

So much so, in fact, that on my agenda of Things To Do Before School Begins is cleaning out the small storage space we have in our attic tomorrow. Don't ask me why that needs to be done before we can sit around the kitchen table and read Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in peace, but for some reason that you might have to be inside my head to understand, it just does.

Along those lines, today's project (besides sorting the girls' dressers and toys) was turning an old dresser into a TV console for some better storage in the family room. Top drawer was removed, I painted the inside cavity, Daniel jig-sawed a hole in the back for wires and cords, and voila! That was easy (and cheap!) enough.

Even my children have gotten in on the sorting more than ever before. I am bit by bit turning them all into "get rid'ers." Some of them may have eventually evolved into that on their own (it seems most all of human nature starts out a little overly on the attached and sentimental side when it comes to our stuff), but this year even the ones who tend to be "keepers" have been all too happy to think very critically about their belongings in order to decide whether or not they are truly worth the storage space, the routine re-organization, and the ongoing maintenance they require.

My mantra that they hear often: do you use it [often] and do you love it [lots]? If not, get rid of it!

Several trash bags full of socks with holes, broken toys, and more have already been placed out in the garbage pails, and we have a nice pile of things to go to the blessing shop or to give to friends accumulating on the dining room table.

While we are busily cleaning out, this is in large part because we are also bringing in. There is new curriculum on the top school shelf, the jars are freshly filled with pencils and glue and crayons, binders have been restocked with paper, and a truckload of reserved books have just arrived at the library. On top of that, it won't be long before fall clothes are being pulled out of bins, new jeans are being purchased for each kiddo, and we're assessing our Friday School uniform situation.

My special new school year gift to myself was a chalkboard marker. So fun. My life will never be the same!

life with Elliot

Life with Elliot is a life like no other I've experienced with a baby/toddler thus far. He absolutely keeps me on my toes and requires my consistency and even a fierce determination from me that I've never before known.

If I could sum it up, just a few events from this morning describe what almost every waking moment with him is like:

I brought him into the bathroom with me while I showered because leaving him awake with the other kids always results in disaster of some kind-- either a huge mess that they are in tears trying to keep up with, or him literally and physically beating them up while they are at a loss because they know they're not supposed to just hit him back.

Upon exiting my 5-minute shower, I realized all my clothes were missing from where I had left them on a stool nearby. All the bath toys were scattered and the toilet paper roll was completely unraveled. He had managed to open the sink vanity cabinet, which up until now had too strong a magnet for him, and had emptied the jars of hair ribbons, elastics, and barrettes all over the floor. At that point, he was busily squirting the contents of a toothpaste tube all over the stool that had previously had my clothes set upon it.

Forget the mess, the real question to me was where he had stashed my clothes.

And then it dawned on me.

Of course: the toilet.

Sure enough, I lifted the lid and my shorts, shirt, and undergarments were all squished in there. Lovely.

"Elliot, we don't play in the toilet," I said to him, pointing at the clothes.

He hit me in the face.

This is life with Elliot.

He is busy. He is determined. He is certain of what he wants and unwavering until he gets it. Harnessing his aggression and teaching him to yield his will have made for some of the hardest parenting battles I've yet faced, and I have 5 children older than him (some of whom have proved quite challenging in their own ways).

When I was expecting Elliot, for the first time as a mom I felt quite certain of the gender of the child I was carrying. So certain, in fact, that I didn't even bother packing a remotely feminine looking outfit in the hospital bag. I figured if I was wrong, the gray and white chevron one-piece wouldn't look entirely ridiculous on a girl until she got home and I could rectify the situation.

A big part of why I felt quite certain I would give birth to a boy was because I had felt quite certain that the name Elliot, the anglicization of Elijah, was what the Lord wanted for this baby, a baby who would have the courage to confront the false prophets and idols of his day. In addition, I happened to be reading a biography about Jim Elliot at the time and couldn't shake the sensation that the baby in my womb would have a similar passion and fearlessness to this missionary who laid down his very life for the God he loved and served.

In that sense, I shouldn't be surprised by the rawness of this sixteen-month-old that I face each and every day.

I try not to be.

Elliot is a force to be reckoned with. He doesn't easily back down. He doesn't quietly give up. He plain old wears me out. Already, there have been countless times that I have asked the Lord to win his heart at a young age because otherwise I fear I will be undone!

Yes, life with Elliot is an adventure. I am learning a lot about myself, namely how impatient, inconsistent, and apathetic I can be. I am learning to pray more. I am learning to enjoy the rare tender moments and to see beyond the inconvenience of his sheer determination to how God will use his relentlessness one day. There is a unique strength in him, a resilience and fierceness that when yielded to God will undoubtedly be an amazing tool in His hands. May Elliot give his life to Jesus and live it passionately, recklessly, and fearlessly for Him!

Elliot Hale

"my God is the Lord; hero"

Elliot trying to escape from the backpack carrier he was trapped in while on a family outing!

time flies

Without a doubt, we are surely halfway through the month of August. As seems to be ever-increasingly the case, I feel at a total loss as to where the time went.

But, no, it's not that I don't know where it went; it's that I cannot fathom how quickly (and usually without my permission!) even the "down time" in my life fills to the brim with the activity and busyness of a healthy and growing family.

I don't want to complain. I am so thankful for every bit of life that occupies my days. What a precious season this is, my children growing by leaps and bounds and me getting to be part of it all.

I do wish that I was better as stopping along the way, at knowing how to catch my breath, at being able to formulate a thought, at getting one step ahead (or even just half a step). Still, I am learning to be thankful in the midst, to not feel like my world is spiraling out of control simply because I don't have the time to process that I would like to have or was once accustomed to. As our family grows, so the Lord is gracious to stretch me and expand my heart and mind through the most simple and profound of lessons.

So far August has looked like:

A handful of days with the Sinclair family, staycationing half a mile down the road at my parents' house. Little girls rooming in with their much-adored aunties, whiffle ball and kickball and baseball, board games and books, a kitchen continually overflowing with bodies, laughter and prayer and early morning coffee, sleeplessness and not minding it one bit because of what it means we had throughout the day.

Returning home and gearing my mind a bit toward the new school year. Labor Day-- and the official start date of our 2013-2014 school year-- looms ever larger. I made my final plans, assembled lists, researched prices, and finally ordered the missing curriculum and supplies. I love homeschooling and therefore can't help but be excited for a new year, but I confess to dragging my feet even more slowly than usual about tying any final bows on summer. It's been a lovely few months.

Celebrating Bronwyn's ninth birthday. I will write more about this dear girl another time, but suffice it to say that I have decided I'm thankful that her birthday always falls in the throes of summer fun because it definitely helps alleviate the bittersweetness of the passing of another year.

Taking a Saturday to deep-clean the house with the kids, and feeling yet again amazed at how much we accomplish and in how short a time as more and more of them are able to actually help!

My husband officiating a wedding with a tenderness and fathering that belies his age and gives great credit to his Heavenly Father. Watching what the Lord does with his life never gets old for me.

Out-of-town guests.

Summer bounty and savoring every meal that required zero menu planning on my part.

Lots of meandering walks and not enough mowing and weeding.

Fevers for three of my six little charges.

The ever-noticeable presence of a new baby on the way.

Filling in calendar dates and thanking Jesus for the opportunities and ability He gives to serve Him.

Thinking about expectations, mostly my own, and how often they don't line up with His calling.

Praying lots, especially in moments of weakness: that I will hear His voice, that my children will be captured by who He is, that we will live our lives with increasing intentionality, that He will strengthen His Church, that we will always have joy in the offering, that He will teach me to number my days and live wisely.

a new place

For the past eight years, xanga has been a sort of home for me; a place for musings, updates, ramblings, recipe sharing, homeschool talk, celebrating births and birthdays, and perhaps even writing something worth sharing every once in a great while.

Certainly along the way I thought about switching to a "cooler" and more "updated" blog format, but the problem there was that I didn't have the technical know-how to import all the history I'd collected at xanga-- something I wasn't ready to just do without-- and I was pretty convinced it wasn't worth inconveniencing someone who did have the know-how for. After all, xanga worked for my simple objectives: to stay in touch with friends and family, to keep a sort of family record, and to take time every so often for noting the things God is teaching me.

Also?

I'm just not cool.

And I'm okay with that.

Recently, though, the word on the street has been that xanga is done as of today. Gone the way of all things earthly, I suppose.

And so it was time, ready or not, to move on.

And thanks to the technical know-how of the best brother in the whole wide world of brothers, it carries with it all the past history and archives that the sentimental part of me simply wasn't quite ready to ditch-- right back to when I was a mom of just two little ones, living in a 2-bedroom townhouse less than 1000 square feet big, and very much still in the newest stages of being a wife and mom.

If you subscribe to blogs, you'll want to switch the address from brietta.xanga.com to briettapaladin.blogspot.com.

Welcome to my new "home."

warning: a rambling pregnancy update

So we're over halfway through this pregnancy now. If it's flying by for you, it's flying by even faster for me. I've confessed that I can hardly believe it's July already, so this revelation probably doesn't come as any surprise.

But seriously, was it already 4 months ago now that I was finally putting 2 and 2 together to realize that the not-going-away-nausea and exhaustion wasn't actually the stomach bug my children had had?

Guess so.

20 weeks already?!
(and, by the way, I swear my belly doubled in size yesterday, but I haven't taken a photo since then.)

By way of testimony and gratitude, I have to say that a large part of this pregnancy's Flying By nature has been that I have felt so good.

Really good.

And I am thankful beyond what words can say. I have had energy, I have had little sickness, I have had few days that have been a total wash, I have honestly enjoyed almost every minute. Each pregnancy prior to this one had gotten progressively harder on me and I think I was starting to think that it was just the way things would be. These past months have been such a gift to me, not just physically, but also emotionally.

Ultimately, I think it's just been God's mercy on me. But some things that I'm sure have helped:

Summer/exercise. By the end of the winter, I'm pale and listless and cooped-up-feeling and trying to remember when I last ate a good tomato. Maybe it's just me, but I think a lot of us fall in the camp of Feeling Better In The Summer. The fresh air and longer sunlight, the ease of and natural tendency toward staying active, the outdoor projects and fun, the accessibility and availability of organic and local produce-- I know these always make a difference in my general sense of well-being. The impact is simply that much more noticeable when my body is busy growing another human being.

Also, for the first time since before becoming a mom, I have been able to get out of the house almost daily to run and/or walk, whereas it used to get squeezed in whenever Daniel's unpredictable schedule would allow. There are advantages to my kids getting older and a smidgen more independent, and wow! what a very practical difference this has made in how I'm feeling.

My runs have morphed into walk-runs (I've always tried to take an interval approach to my running, so this is just more exaggerated)-- and this past week when I was out at noon and the sun was beating mercilessly down on me and the humidity levels were 70-100%, I strictly walked-- but it has all helped so much. During my first trimester, there were a lot of days that started yucky, but I knew that if I could just hang in there until my run, I would feel better. I'm not saying this would have worked in other pregnancies (and certainly not for all expectant mamas!), but it was a clear pattern this time around.

I'm hoping that I'll be able to keep it up right until the end. January and February are the toughest months for exercising outside (thanks to ice on the roads), but I'm due on December 3rd, so I should be okay. I'm sure my pace will continue to slow down as I get bigger (!), but my goal is to stay as limber and energetic as possible.

Food. For some miraculous reason, my cravings this time around have been much more on the health-food end of the spectrum. You think I kid when I say "miraculous," but if you knew the things I always crave when I'm pregnant (french fries, greasy burgers, sour patch kids, chinese buffet, etc.), you'd realize that I mean what I say. Previously, pregnancy has been 9 long months of eating what I know to eat when it isn't at all what I want to eat. Maybe it's the perfect timing of spring's arrival and all the bountiful healthy goodness available, but it has just been so much better this time around. I can't tell you how thankful I am to not be constantly battling myself on this issue.

Of course, there have been bowls of ice cream here and there and peach cobbler almost every Tuesday (yes, this pregnancy seems to also have delivered me from my many years of abstaining from peaches after one summer as a child when my mom ordered a scarring number of bushels of peaches!), but there's been a lot of wanting veggies and hummus, big bowls of fresh fruit, fresh-from-a-local-chicken-coop eggs, and more. I'm thankful, to say the least.

 

Iron. I tried my best to get a jump on my perpetual tendency toward anemia by firstly supplementing iron for quite a few months after Elliot's birth, and then by getting right into a vitamin and iron regimen about as soon as I knew I was pregnant. Some ladies might have the luxury of waiting to see how their iron levels are, but having been 6 for 6 with really bad anemia (my hemoglobin is usually between 8 and 9 when I go into labor), I didn't even bother with the Wait And See approach.

For the past 16 weeks I have been as faithfully as possible drinking floradix with breakfast and dinner and taking vitamins with lunch. My hemoglobin at 19 weeks gestation was a little over 11, so it does seem to be helping. I need to up it and keep at it if I'm going to have healthy levels by 40 weeks, but at least so far I haven't had the major energy slumps and general fatigue/weakness that I by now associate with pregnancy.

In pregnancy news: I had my first appointment with a midwife in Watertown who seems very excited and eager to help me VBAC once again. It's a shame to me that I have to drive 70 miles to find someone who agrees that a VBAC is not only safer in my situation but that it carries almost no more risks for me than it does for someone who has never had a cesarean, but at least she was there to be found. She is in a practice with 3 OBs who also do many VBACs every year. One of these OBs in particular came highly recommended from a local midwife (who only does non-VBAC homebirths) as a doctor who is very accommodating and naturally-minded, so that's encouraging.

The midwife felt that I was measuring small so she sent me for an ultrasound, thinking that we might be able to push the due date back and have that much more flexibility in terms of delivery dates at the end. I did try to tell her that I always measure small-- even at 42 weeks and just days before popping out my 10lb daughter I only measured 37cm-- but in my experience, every practitioner I've gone to has needed to see that for themselves. Sure enough, it was my most accurate-to-dates ultrasound I've ever had, with results perfectly confirming my December 3 due date.

It was a really amazing ultrasound, though. I got to see the baby waving, swallowing, moving his jaw up and down, flipping (lengthwise), and more. The miracle of life never gets old. This is a baby, a person, a soul. What a privilege to carry and cradle him within me, safely tucked away and nurtured by my very own life. When I think about every organ being formed, every finger and toe nail growing, every detail being put together, it amazes me that I don't have to contribute more to the process.

I am the lucky one.

Lest you get confused, I use "his" and "him" in the most generic of ways. We won't, once again, find out what we're having beforehand. Of course it's always tempting to know (what's better than finding out good news? well, finding out good news sooner, of course!), but I just can't give up the moment of climax when the baby is born and we really meet him/her for the first time. The eagerness to discover just who this baby is always helps me in those moments of labor transition when I'm pretty sure I could care less about anything other than being done or dying.

So we will be doing our best to come up with at least two baby name options. This gets harder and harder each time around, I have to say. It is such a privilege and ultimately joyous task, but it always feels very serious to me, too! Our baby's naming is up to us?

Coincidentally, every time I've given birth we've only had one name we really like and we've been fortunate enough to have the baby be the appropriate gender for the name. That said, I don't like to bank on that pattern continuing, so I really am doing my best to come up with a name for both boy and girl.

So far, I've got one girl name. Daniel doesn't like it.

Wish me luck.

 

summer

This summer is slipping by so fast. July 15th?! Already???!

June disappeared in a flurry of finishing baseball and tying up the 2012-2013 school year (and all of its accompanying paperwork) and house work and brief trips here and there and getting the garden in. I hung in there as if my life depended on the slower summer days I just knew July would afford me.

Ha.

July is like a vapor. I've barely absorbed the fact that it's begun, let alone that we're halfway through, but here we are.

That said, the pictures snapped here and there on the phone don't lie and they tell me that somehow, despite busyness and work demands and the never-ending To Do lists, we have snuck in our fair share of quintessential summer memories. Ah.

 

baby boy living in white onesie and sunhat

 

parades and celebrations

 

cold drinks (what a treat!) on hot afternoons

 

playing in the water until our teeth are chattering and our lips are blue

 

enjoying being together

 

getting faces painted at a local festival

 

dance camp for the biggest girl (she's the one in the back-- no flash photography made for poor snapshots, but I got them for memory's sake nonetheless!)

 

throwing hair in a pony tail and running out the door first thing every Tuesday morning to pick up our CSA share

 

flip flops and sand and dirty picnic quilts

 

putting in our time in the toddler nursery, which conveniently happens to be one of the few air conditioned rooms at church!

 

games on the sitting room floor after chores

 

laundry on the line almost every single day

 

keeping the jar of granola filled because, really, who wants to eat hot cereal on a hot morning?!

 

Yes, in fact, nestled between busy days and already-spoken-for nights, this has been a summer full of everything summer should be, in my estimation. And I intend to keep on enjoying it right up until the very end of August. This is one homeschooling mama who does not like to cut her summer short!