The Monkeys and Me

Camper progress (very very pic heavy...)

2012-01-16T16:34:00.000-06:00

I'm having a sick day in bed, not much voice left, swimming in snotty tissues and feeling rather miserable, so I thought I'd take the opportunity while I'm stuck here anyway to look out pics of the camper and update my blog on the progress.

We're not as far as I'd hoped to be by now, but that's ok. We made the decision early November to call it quits for the Winter, for a variety of reasons; health (and surprise early pregnancy!), cold weather, financial restrictions and I needed the shop time to work on the kids' Christmas presents. Plus the landlord asked us to park her here

which is a fair distance from the garage where all our tools are, so it will be easier to do all the running back and forth once the warmer weather sets in.

But it's been really hard, to look out the window and see Caledonia shining in the sun, waiting to be tended to and worked on. I'm itching to git 'er done. I'd love to have her ready to take camping before the baby gets here.

For now, I'll look at pictures of progress and plan the next stages and dream lovingly.

So, since I introduced her to the blog in early November, we've done a fair bit of work on her.

PHASE 1 - trim up the outside

We thought it was important to start with fixing up a couple of the more unslightly parts on the outside, so it wouldn't be an eyesore for the neighbors or landlord. So we washed her down, smoothed off some of the corroded parts and sprayed a couple coats of rustoleum to get them looking nice and clean and new.

Here was before

Here's after

Before

After

And we took off these nasty wheel arch cover thingies (don't know what they're called)

and replaced them with new (to us) purdy ones.

And we patched up a few holes and added sealant around the windows etc. Here's Rene's attempt at filling a hole.

Rene slapped a couple coats of sealant on the roof (I made it sound much easier than it actually was!)

PHASE 2 - Everybody loves demolition

Demolition is fun. A great way to get out some of that built up angst. We went at our bonny Caledonia with a crowbar and a hammer and stripped her down to her studs. Much of this had already been done, but we wanted to rip out the cabinets and some other parts which had been previously left intact.

Before

After

We had hoped to not have to redo the loft area, but there were definitely some soft spots, so down it all came.

Before.

During

What a fine mess.

PHASE 3 - Rebuild from the stud

There was some rotted out wood which needed replaced, or some of it which was questionable needed treated and/or reinforced. We also had to add some extra studs strategically placed, because we plan to eventually hang some hammocks on the walls.

And we went to work building a wall to support our kitchen unit. The existing wall was too flimsy. We decided not to do away with it entirely, but to build on in front of it.

Yes, my husband worked often with the baby on his back. He is amazing! I can't wear the baby very much anymore, as it causes me a couple days of muscle/joint pain to recover. That's where my superhero comes in.

Once the studs were in place, we were able to start placing the wall panels, which made a big difference to the appearance. OK, I know this is totally patchy, but it was the cheapest way to do it and make use of every scrap. It'll look good eventually, I promise. Rene pretty much rocked this part solo.

We really could use a couple of saw horses though, 'cause this gets tedious after the 12th time or so...

Kitchen wall.

We had lots of helpers with the painting

Even naked ones

PHASE 4 - Bathroom

This fake wood laminate and 1970s wallpaper in the bathroom was just not doin' it for me.

The bathroom had no floor, so we started by building that.

In hindsight I know it was foolish, but I wanted to put our floor tiles down right away, so it would feel pretty to me.

Then it was time to paint this baby. I used a primer which is suitable for laminate surfaces. It's not much more expensive than a regular primer. And for course, I cleaned and lightly sanded the surfaces first.
When the first layer goes on, it looks streaky and terrible. But as the layers pile on, it improves greatly.

Lookin' gooooood. Here's where I start getting pee-my-pants excited. It's starting to look more like my dream. I'm coming alive.

Pardon the bosom. It's a small space and hard to take photos.

OK...now for the scary part....tackling the surface. I researched how to do this but hadn't ever practiced. I used acrylic paints in grays and one tan, and I dabbed them on in layers. First layer looked so stupid I worried a lot.

Looks pretty bad. But I like how it developed.

One, two, skip a few, ninetynine, a hundred. (I got tired of taking pics)

I've got to paint the sink, which will make it look neater. I'm looking for the most cost effective way to do that. Epoxy is expensive. But I'm loving how the countertop turned out. I will do the same in the kitchen.

PHASE 5 - Furniture

This is the most exciting, fun stage of all (for me, anyway). I made the plans for the pieces in google sketchup, but then deviated from most of them. I didn't plan the bed in any detailed manner, I pretty much just played it by ear. Rene planned and made the wheel arch covers, but the rest of the furniture has pretty much been my project.

We are still in the middle of this phase currently. At stopping point we are maybe half way through this phase.

A storage shelf

Rene's wheel arch frame

Beginnings of a kitchen unit

My favorite part - the main bed....(it's solid! I plan to put beanbags on it during the day as a lounge/hang out area. Fun little stage for the kids too)

It also functions as lift top storage and a container for the water tank.

Look at me, making a pretty face.

Obnoxious bench. It's large, and adds a lot of weight, but is multi-purpose and anticipated to be very much the center of activity and focus of our time in the camper. I'll show off all it's functionality when Caledonia is ready and done.

Peeking in from the window

Kids sitting on it

Beginnings of a second kitchen workspace/storage

This is going to be my favorite piece when it's done. Can you guess what it is?

And some upper kitchen cabinets. Currently functioning as tool cupboard.

I know we've a ways to go...but she's sure coming along, don't you think?

Ally approves

So that's pretty much where we've left off. Things still to complete include: finishing furniture, install/fix plumbing, fix electrics, fix brakes, make blinds and fixings, decorate interior, decorate exterior (which I'm also pee-my-pants excited about).
As she stands, if we could simply get her brakes working (we're taking her to a professional for that part) we could take her camping as is; if we plug in externally at an rv site. She'd be a glorified tent, pretty much. But we'd love to make her even better and I know we can. We can get her all purdy and lit up and cozy. It will be a work in progress for years I'm certain. But it's a labor of love, and that's an understatement.

I'm pregnant

2012-01-14T19:27:00.000-06:00

I just realized I hadn't announced it here. We're having another baby. Yay. Due some time in July.

Other than feeling incredibly blessed, I'm also feeling incredibly tired, sore and irritable. I'm finding this to be my most challenging pregnancy so far, due to chronic pain and low energy. I was practically living off of pain pills before getting pregnant and was on antidepressants. I quit both cold turkey as soon as I got my positive pregnancy test and all seems to be going well. It's difficult to cope with pain and my emotions are erratic to say the least (sorry Rene and kids!), but it's so worth it for a healthy baby.

And thankfully this is another low risk pregnancy and all should go smoothly as always. I'm just focusing on eating healthfully to nourish my precious growing babe and strengthen my body. And all is going well. I'm thankful.

We've nicknamed this wee one, "chicken" and I'm already very deeply in love.

Latest builds

2012-01-04T09:56:00.000-06:00

I don't have any decent pics of my latest builds but I wanted to post them anyway because I know from experience if I don't do it now I will totally lose interest and never do it.

So, I've been busy leading up to Christmas, making presents for them all. I was dreaming of a(n Ana) White Christmas and I got one. www.anawhite.com

For Turtle, I made the play table (train table) from here
And Rene painted the top, since he has better imagination than me for that sort of thing and has more patience for detail.

Not the best pics ever, I apologize. Also, I snapped them up on Christmas day and the place is soooo messy, please forgive me. Christmas with 5 kids gets kind of messy.

Turtle likes his table ok, but I think his wee brother loves it even more. Ally constantly climbs up there and just sits on top and plays.

For Ally, I made my own plans and made a magnetic play table. It did not turn out like I imagined in my head, but oh well.

I do like the wooly willy part. That's nostalgia right there.

Lana got a doll house from these plans

My favorite piece is Zoe's market. I made the plans myself. I wish I had a good photo of it. I may have to take some nice ones on purpose and do up a proper brag post about it. The top and bottom are chalkboard, and she writes her daily specials etc on it. It was a big hit. She also got a cash register, shopping cart and play food. It's so much fun.

And Kaya got the Schoolhouse chalkboard but I made it a whiteboard instead. Hmmm this is the only pic I can find of it.

The camper is parked in the prairie for now over winter. We'll get working on it again in Spring. Meanwhile I have a whole bunch of projects lined up to work on to make our house a bit more organized. Furniture and things. Hopefully I can get moving with that. Thanks for peeking.

Back to normal

2011-12-23T16:11:00.000-06:00

I remember standing in line at the cafeteria at the Mariner Center in Camelon after dropping young Kaya off at mini gym; frequently glancing back and baby Lana, hungry in the high chair, I chose a couple of fruit corners for her and I and waited for my turn to pay. I overheard two lovely old biddies having a chat about the recently passed festivities.

"Aye, we hud a braw Christmas, but ahm happy it's all o'er and we can get back tae normal."

Her friend agreed enthusiastically. And I just couldn't for the life of me understand why.

I've always been a huge fan of Christmas. It's magic, it's excitement, it's anticipation, it's a break from the norm. I get so stifled by repetition and routine. I love something to come and break it up a bit. And Christmas is the perfect occasion for just that. Songs and baking and flashing lights and gifts and focusing on each other instead of the grind. I always suffer a bit of a let down and a major downer when it's all over and we have to dump the tree and sentence the bright decorations to a year of seclusion in an old box in the basement. It all just seems so sad.

As a young adult I looked forward to having my own family to share the excitement of Christmas with. When Kaya was a baby we spoiled her rotten and video taped every pain staking minute (of which there were many) of us trying to prompt her to show some interest in her gifts. She was 4 months old. There wasn't much interest shown. It took a long time to work through the items under our tree that year. The following year played out much the same.

When she was two, Rene and I wondered whether she really understood what was going on. Did she understand this Christmas thing? Surely she couldn't remember the previous years which she had been less than excited about. We weren't sure how much was just going over her head. Until Christmas Eve, when she spent an hour repeatedly jumping up and down on our bed yelling, "A KANGAWOO! A KANGAWOO!!" (her version of a cbeebies song). The girl was pee-your-pants excited. This was everything I had ever wanted. I loved it!

Check out that cutie.

Fast forward 7 years and here I am now, nearing the end of the week from the pit of heck. I have one almost toddler who is oblivious yet still picking up on the vibe in the air and reacting to it. He's extra clingy and extra excitable. And the rest of them? Are COMPLETELY out of WHACK! There has been non stop fighting, squabbling, hurt feelings, crying, questions about, "what if such and such (insert various creative random events) happens on Christmas Day?", broken dishes, yelling, grabbing, jumping on furniture, pulling down stockings, attacking Christmas trees, complaints of not doing this right or that fast enough, power struggles, chocolate messes, illegal previews of presents and upsets that follow and just on and on and on. The kids are WIRED.

I'm glad they're excited and everything. Truly I am. I hope they'll have a wonderful Christmas. And then....it will be over. And I am SO looking forward to that part!! I am exhausted from trying to keep the place decorated, keep a steady supply of Christmas treats and crafts, trying to keep peace and keep *some* semblance of order, staying up late to clean the disasters they've made and to wrap presents (which I'm SO behind on right now).

I'm a little ashamed of myself to admit that I am going to be super duper happy when it's all o'er and we can get back tae normal. Or....our version of normal anyway. *yawn*.

Alasdair's first year in pictures

2011-12-11T21:49:00.001-06:00

Seriously? A year? No way. But my calendar says it's true. Dec 12 2010 my baby boy was born in a hurry, in my half filled birth pool in a peaceful room with his Daddy and big sister welcoming him in.

The year seriously flew by so fast. We moved house when Ally was a few weeks young, which was full of crazy. Then shortly afterwards my health started on a downward slope and life kind of became a blur. Things are slowly getting better and I find myself looking back on the last months wondering where time went. My baby is growing up, without my permission.

Ally is a very, very loved little guy. Doted on by all his siblings - including Zoe! She's crazy about him and treats him very well. He is never left wanting for attention or cuddles.

He is such a sweet little guy. He loves Yo Gabba Gabba and dancing. He loves to clap his hands and crawl or cruise around. No steps yet, and he doesn't seem in a hurry to let go of the wall or whatever he's holding onto. But I know he could if he wanted to. His favorite words to say are, "what's dat" and "daddy". He can say a handful of others too, like "cat", "this", "mummy", "gabagabagaba" (yo gabba gabba). He's starting to venture into stinker monkey land - enjoying touching things he knows he shouldn't (like the thermostat) and then shaking his head and growling (in imitation of the reaction he anticipates from his mother), then looking at me with the most charming grin you could imagine - sometimes throwing in a blown kiss or a cute babbly voice or a peekaboo for that added melt-me factor when it seems necessary. He's impossible to resist.

I haven't posted enough photos of my sweet boy. Mostly because I've had technical difficulties, and even now that my laptop is working, I'm finding that smugmug is taking f.o.r.e.v.e.r. to upload anything, so I'm having issues with that. But I wanted to share a photo for every month of his life thus far (minus Dec because I haven't got them on the puter yet) to share his adorableness with you all. So here he is.

Newborn

1 month

2 months

3 months

4 months

5 months

6 months

7 months

8 months

9 months

10 months

11 months

Happy Birthday sweet Ally. We adore you.

My dining table

2011-11-19T12:08:00.001-06:00

Ok, I made a table and bench and high chair months ago. And wanted to wait until I made matching chairs to go with it before posting it. But, I don't seem to be getting round to doing that (what with the camper taking up so much time and all, plus it's getting so cold to work out in the garage).

So I'm going to show it off with our old, naff chairs.

I turned 30 in May (still haven't come to terms with it). And with some birthday money I bought a nice set of plates (@ half price!). An actual nice set which I loved. Mint chocolate colored. I had in mind that when I built my table I'd set it with this set and take some gorgeous photos. So I left my new dinnerware sitting in a box. For months. Before finally conceding that I'm never going to get around to making these chairs (at least not any time soon) so I might as well enjoy my birthday dinnerware.

So I excitedly opened the box and admired my beautiful, deep brown and mint green plates and bowls which brought me such joy. And I enjoyed them for a whole week before they started getting smashed left, right and center. It was foolish of me to consider a nice plate set before retirement when my kids are grown. Lesson learned.

Here's our old table. It was gifted to us within a week or two of moving to Nebraska. It's amazing how God provided for our needs through generous people, when we really had nothing, knew nobody here and were just living by faith and being so well taken care of. This table served us well for 4 years, but as our family started to grow, so did our need for a larger dining space.

And by the way, one of the things I love about homeschooling is that you can do it in your pjs or even your (disposable - for shame) pullups; whatever time you stumble out of bed. That works for me!

Of course the plans for this table come from the amazing Ana White. I love her furniture plans and the way she lays it all out, so easy to understand with clear instructions and lots of eye candy.

This was honestly a very easy build. Very straight forward, nothing too complicated. I still managed to mess something up, which I'll elaborate on.

But first, here's the finished table, minus gorgeous photos or nice chairs or nice dinnerware (though I did set out 2 of them!). That's the high chair at the end. The table and high chair are messy, but I wanted to just get this post done and couldn't be bothered trying to get it perfect.

I'd like to also put it out there, that I'm not looking for compliments here. Firstly, this is all Ana White's plans, so no credit due to me for that. It was fun and easy to build, anybody could do it. And also, my husband gives me way too many compliments as it is (he's such a sook...if you don't know what that means then perhaps I should get the Scottish Word of the Week segment going again...) and honestly, the rest of me is big enough, I don't need to go getting a big head too. Let's keep it real. No compliments necessary.

Here are a couple pics of the making of.

Look how dreadfully messy my garage is! Yuck.

And in spirit of keeping it real, here's how my table looked when I first finished it.

See that sagging end? I tried so hard to live with it, and to love my table despite it. We went with it for about a week, but it just kept standing out like a sore thumb. So I had to attack my table with a knife and then some more destructive instruments and try to make it right. I had Rene help for moral support. It was emotionally difficult to do, not knowing whether I'd be able to get it structurally as solid or fix the finish on it after hacking it apart.

Yeah I just couldn't ignore that anymore.

So here goes nothin'

Ahhh, that's better.

I'm so glad we fixed it. I'm 100% happy with my table now. I went ahead and did some roughing it up at this stage and refinished it and I much prefer the finish on it now. It's a bit more rustic and varied.

Here are some of detail shots.

My only complaint is this beast is so darn hard to clean. I love the size, it fits our family round it with room to spare (which I remind myself of every time I see adorable, tiny, new babies in the nursing mom's room at church...), it's great for playing games on (killer bunnies anybody?) and we have so much more room now for crafts and homeschooling. But it's like a work out trying to run all around it to wipe it down, you can't reach all the spots from one location.

Looks like I don't have many pics of the high chair, but here's Ally sitting on it, enjoying the height it gives him (unfortunately he has since figured out how to climb on top of the table from the high chair...)

So there you go. That's my dining table.

San Dimas High school football rules!

Why does God let bad things happen to good people?

2011-11-09T01:19:00.000-06:00

I’m going to preface this post with a disclaimer: I am not a preacher, I’m not a teacher, not a scholar and have no authority by which I speak. I try to be very cautious about what I put out there, because James 3 v1-2 of the Bible (New Living Translation) says,
“Dear brothers and sisters, not many of you should become teachers in the church, for we who teach will be judged more strictly. Indeed, we all make many mistakes. For if we could control our tongues, we would be perfect and could also control ourselves in every other way.”

Be careful what you read online as it pertains to things of faith - there are a heck of a lot of opinions out there and it can be difficult to separate them from teachings that adhere perfectly to scripture. This post is the former - my opinion. It’s not intended to teach or preach. This is just a little bit of insight into how my heart and head work around some of the profound questions in life.

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Ten years ago today my world came brutally crumbling down, like a great nation devastated in the blink of an eye by an Earthquake hungry for death. It was a disgusting day; a terrifying day; a day full of sorrow deeper than any imagery could do justice to. Ten years ago today, my perfect baby girl died suddenly, unexplainably, in her sleep.

I’ve written here about some of the harsh emotions around that night. This time of year, the gruesome details come flooding back, against my will; details too horrific to post about here. I have nightmares that recur around this time of year; of me trying to breathe life into baby corpses or of finding my baby’s body buried under a pile of photographs and swearing I saw her eyes open, or her chest move with breath. Then I wake, and face yet another day of my new normal - a life without a huge piece of my heart. Perhaps the word “new” should no longer apply; it’s been ten years. But I’m not anywhere near used to it yet. I guess it takes longer than a decade.

But I would like to reflect today on the spiritual aspect of great loss. It is noteworthy that the darkest time of my life was a time I felt more surrounded by light that I have ever been aware of before or since.

I had been a 20 year old, headstrong, stubborn young woman, determined to prove the world that she wasn’t too young to be married, or to be a new mother. I was playing house, adamant that I would win the game. I was going to put them to shame with my excellence in parenting skills. I boasted that I had “been blessed” with so much (I called it blessing, but honestly, I attributed it to myself in pride); an amazing marriage, our own home in a great neighborhood, a secure job for my husband, and a perfect baby. I genuinely adored motherhood. I called my Peach “a little piece of Heaven here on Earth”. I felt on top of the world and there was no stopping me.

But then it stopped me.

Death ripped into my perfect world in the middle of the night and stole away everything I had built my pride around and left me screaming in the street, losing my reputation, tossing my self worth to the wind, practically naked and completely vulnerable. In time, my life spiralled completely out of control. I was left with a shattered heart, empty arms, a depressed and unemployed husband, a marriage on the rocks, debt threatening to take the roof above our head, relationships in shambles and my whole daunting life yet ahead of me.

A friend of the family who had always been an outspoken atheist asked me, “Where’s your God now?” I told her he hadn’t gone anywhere and I had absolutely no intention of leaving him now, when I need him more than ever before.

I want to talk a little about Heather’s funeral for a moment. There’s a brief account of it on her memory website. I want to discuss it in a little more detail now.

I walked into the church and saw my perfect baby smiling, grinning from ear to ear on a projector, while songs from Butterfly Kisses and Bedtime Prayers played. I had played the CD to her before, never realizing how perfectly the songs were to apply in such a dreadful context. I sat and listened to a couple of the songs while the church filled up to overflowing. We were surrounded by people, many of whom hadn’t even had the chance to meet her, but they wanted to make sure we felt their love and support and compassion. And we did.

Rene and I picked the worship music, which the band played beautifully. Here’s a disorganized excerpt of random lyrics from various songs we sang:

As your spirit moves upon me now, you meet my deepest need
You’ve broken chains that bound me
I give my life to you
I fall down on my knees

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow
Life is worth living because he lives

Yes Jesus loves me
Yes Jesus loves me

Forever I’ll love you, forever I’ll stand

He is our fortress, we will never be shaken
We will put our trust in God
Rest is found in him alone
We have a refuge

When sorrows like sea billows roll...it is well with my soul

Wait....it is well with my soul? How could it be? I’m standing in front of my offspring enclosed in a painfully tiny coffin, pure white with some little bits of fluff stuck on, which I’m desperate to fuss over and clean up as an attempt to mother her and take care of her to the bitter end. I’m holding myself back from declaring to everyone that there must have been some terrible mistake - sorry to bother you all, my baby’s fine actually, before scooping her up, taking her home and getting on with life as it should be. I’m fighting against the forces of nature, I want to just hold my baby and love on her. My breasts are engorged and I want to feed her instead of burying her.

But while we sang, I had a vision of Heaven opening and a beautiful glow beaming down and I honestly heard angels sing. Thousands and thousands and thousands of them. I can't write this and maintain dry eyes, the memory is so powerful. I don't consider myself Pentecostal (sorry Mum ;)), I’m usually quite reserved - but this was the real deal. God was showing himself to me in a very real way, in a way that I really, desperately needed. I felt like I was on fire. I felt so surrounded by love, by hope, by promise, by comfort, by peace. The hope of Heaven was more than just hope - it was so substantial I swear I could have touched it and grabbed a piece to put in my pocket. I knew there were angels surrounding the building, I knew God himself was present and embracing my daughter at that very moment while I was singing his praises.

Is it well with my soul? More than ever! I had sang these songs umpteen times before, but never meant them as much as I did in that moment. The great God, the big man upstairs who had created the whole earth at the uttering from his lips, was stooping down to reveal himself to me because I needed comfort, I needed hope and I needed reassurance. And he didn’t fail me even slightly. He was so faithful to console me and lift my head. I wanted to run away from the whole world and just run into his arms. Just crash with the One who understands my heart, to just cry and wail in his presence, wipe my snot on his shoulder and feel his strong hands hold me still while my body shook with the effort of weeping.

And we did. Rene and I. Over the next few months our car became a dwelling place for Jesus, as he sat there and held us while we cried and screamed and yelled and sang praises at the top of our lungs. Or we would go to her burial site and stare at the heart shape in the tree and breathe in the bitter air and sing to God, praying from our bared souls, feeling such a connection to the Spirit as we poured ourselves completely out before Him. Rene and Jesus and I would just stand there and cry and sob and sing, or sometimes we'd sit on the bench nearby and Jesus would hold us and surround us with peace. And it was amazing. I’ve never experienced anything as intimate nor empowering nor electrifying nor passionate. At a time when my life was crumbling to pieces, it would seem to many that I had lost all direction; lost my purpose. That conclusion couldn’t be further from the truth. I was closer to finding my true purpose in that moment than ever before or, unfortunately, ever since.

I was broken. Truly broken. The foundations of my world were in ashes around me. My marriage, my financial security, my family, my relationships, my future. It all seemed so meaningless. It was all a big mess and I was at the end of me. That is a scary thought.....what do you find when you reach the end of yourself? I wouldn’t have wanted to ever know. Yet here I was, at the end. And what I found there wasn’t terrifying in the slightest - it was the most beautiful thing imaginable. It was a God who adores me, who wants to hold me and wants me to simply fall into him. Just fall. Just let go. And I was so very ready to just fall and let go, so it was very very easy to do at that time. And it was so rewarding. I found myself carried, lifted, loved, doted on. I had been a Christian my whole life, this wasn’t an “I saw the light” moment per say. But I had never really experienced Jesus like this before. I was completely done with my own agenda, with my own desire to prove myself capable or strong. I was no longer defeated by the job loss or the crushing sensation of the debt or material things. I couldn’t stand to watch tv, even filling the car with gas felt so trivial. I just wanted to praise God. Constantly. Because nothing made me feel as amazing at spending time in intimate relationship with him.

And up from the ashes, God brought to flight incredible new life for my husband and I. We had a baby, then another, then another (and so on!). We’ve moved to the USA and have a secure job again and our marriage is stronger than ever. I’m surrounded by all the things a woman could dream of. Our needs are taken care of and our hearts are full. I am so thankful for all we’ve been given. Check out my brood!

Isn't that amazing? I am so in love with them all. Sometimes when Rene has one on his shoulders and I have one on a hip, two holding a hand each and one walking alongside while we make our way across the Hy-vee parking lot, I have to stop my husband in his tracks, make him turn around and observe us while I comment, "Rene, look at what we did?". I mean, wow. They're amazing kids. And we did that!

But see, that's the thing. Now here I am on antidepressants. As is my husband. And every day feels like a struggle. Because as time has passed I started to give myself way too much credit and lean a little more on myself and a little less on God. And then just a teeny bit less on God again, and a teeny bit less yet again. Until eventually I find myself running the rat race again, trying to find 10 minutes to sit and read the bible, working hard to focus on him at church instead of mentally resolving some task list or other. Because the stronger I build up a secure life here, the harder it becomes to let go and fall into Jesus.

Is this wrong? Not necessarily. Does God despise these things which my life are filled with and wish I’d lose everything again so I could be broken and enjoy the closeness with him that he so deeply craves? I don’t believe so. He loves us and he wants to bless us. And the things in my life that distract me from God are usually the very blessings he showered me with in the first place.

I believe that God grieved with me when my daughter died. I don’t see it that he necessarily “allowed” it to happen, or approved it. Death is a part of life. Of this life anyway (thankfully there won’t be any more of it in the next!) I don’t see it as “why me?” as much as “why not me?”. And of course he wants us to be happy, just as we love our kids and want them to be happy. He wants our lives to be rich and full of joy.

Here’s where it gets difficult to understand. Here I am; my life is rich, and full of joy, but also full of struggle and pain and pining after a relationship I once shared with my God. And he pines for me too. And he knows while I’m popping a pill in my mouth and trying to face the day, that ultimately, I was at my prime when I was broken. I don’t believe he wants me to have to suffer loss in order to realize my brokenness and come running to him. He wants to give me gifts of love and for me to not turn my attention away from him and onto the gift.

I want to demonstrate with some silly illustrations. I made this using strip generator. It may or may not be based on a true story *sheepish*

Misplaced Affection by anonymous

The dude in the third strip is supposed to be the same dude, but sadder and more dejected, not some totally different dude. Anyway, you get the picture, right? Sometimes God gives us lots of wonderful things, and instead of us praising him more and drawing closer to him through these gifts, we find ourselves focusing on the gift itself, instead of the guy who gave it to us as a token of His affection. And then we start getting so attached to these gifts, we can’t imagine living without them, we start to draw our identity from them instead of finding our identity in our maker. I bet the guy in the comic strip is thinking, “Man, I’m glad she likes her gift, but I wish it helped her fall more in love with me instead of coming in between us. I don’t want to be mean but...I miss the days when she didn’t have a tablet and we spent so much time together, loving each other..” I wonder if God feels like that too.

So then, some tragedy comes along and we lose our gift. He never promised we’d have it forever. But we decide to turn on him, to get mad at him and to ask, “Why me? Why would you take this away from me? Don’t you love me?”

So let’s imagine there are 2 potential goals in life.

Many of us will look at these and think, “well, of course I want intimacy with Jesus. That’s the goal”. But it’s so hard to stay on track, when we feel the pull of success. It has such obvious, appealing benefits. I'll list some benefits in orange (none of these are by any means exhaustive lists).

Well, yeah, come to think of it, that does sound pretty appealing. I have a family to look after - I could do with financial security, and there's nothing wrong with feeling self worth. We're talking about the American dream here. Many of us never quite reach the goal, but we still enjoy many small victories along the way.

But this system not without its drawbacks. Here are some listed in blue.

So, lets look at the other potential goal. Intimacy with Jesus. Much of the reason we fail to pursue this goal, is because of what we’ll have to sacrifice in the process.

Basically, the drawback to this whole Jesus thing, is if we pursue him, we are not guaranteed all those things we’re drawn to in the success model. All those orange labels above the blue box - they look so good to us. We want to feel important and secure. Letting go of that is profoundly difficult. Not that you definitely can’t be successful if you follow Christ, that’s not the point. He might very well want to shower you with ipads, but it’s what (or who) we actively pursue that makes all the difference. It's the heart, the attitude, the direction of momentum.

Now, have a look at the orange list above the pink box.

As I say, this isn’t exhaustive. But to me, as a parent, I know which of the two I want for my children. Of course, it’s always nice to think your daughter will grow up to be president or your son will be a world changing entrepreneur. But ultimately, I want what’s very best for my children and I am convinced that they would experience a deeper satisfaction if they take the path of intimacy with Jesus. God wants that for his children too.

So let’s throw around some ideas that can help support us towards these goals. Again, I want to stress that there is nothing inherently evil about success or some of the means by which we achieve it. I’m just trying to take a zoomed out look at the big picture.

Here are some things that can very much be considered blessings, and which are unarguably valuable assets in the journey towards success.

They are all reputable functions in our culture, but are not always easy to achieve. And then we can get into a whole massive political debate on whether success is fairly and equally available to all people, and whether our culture is helping build many people up with this system or whether this simply creates a system of many people crushed under the feet of those at the top of the ladder. It’s a whole other discussion and not one I am even interested in getting into (at least not on this blog!)

The fact is, for many people, these steps are often difficult to achieve. It certainly requires work to either get there or to maintain position there. Just one glance at the make up aisle or magazine rack will show how hard we work towards beauty, and watching stocks and shares will reveal the effort involved in trying to achieve and maintain ownership and wealth. It’s hard. The rewards are appealing and the methods to get there are highly esteemed in our culture, and there is a great pull towards it.

In contrast, what’s required to press on towards the pink goal is less about work and more about simply letting go. I think the hardest part is fighting the attraction of the blue, and trusting God to have your back; believing that in placing your identity in Christ you won’t lose yourself, rather you will truly be found. Authentically you. Not something you’re striving to be, but someone you were created to be, at the very core of you.

Now I’m about to finally get to the point of all this. (Thanks for baring with me). Lets have a look at what role brokenness plays in all of this.

When we introduce trials and messups and imperfection and brokenness into the blue model, it causes a bit of havoc.

This system of success is based on being whole and fit and capable, and it leaves much to be desired for those who are broken, who have failed, who fall short of the mark. Which, honestly, is pretty much everybody. So we try to clean it up and pretend we’re not broken, or fight to make the system more accommodating to people such as ourselves so we can just fit in somewhere. And we’re left spinning around trying to make sense of our place in this world, our purpose. Or we’re left shaking our fists at God asking how he could let this brokenness come into our lives and ruin everything. We feel like we’re fighting a losing battle. Frankly, it's a big mess.

How does brokenness look in our other model?

In this model, brokenness is a major player in achieving our goal! In getting to all those wonderful orange benefits. It is often the starting point, that gets us to the place of surrender and humility and falling into Jesus. And at the other side of that we find ourselves in incredible intimate, passionate relationship with Jesus, basking in unconditional love and feeling an inner peace when life inevitable throws more brokenness our way. It’s an incredibly, powerfully, satisfying sensation to feel like you are discovering your real purpose in life - to belong to Him. To fall into Him. To love and live with Him. We were made for this, and it will satisfy.

I’ve been there, I’ve felt it and since having a taste of it, I’m just not satisfied in the slightest to be surrounded by all this blue with brokenness again. How did I even end up here again? There’s a strong pull from this side.

And recently, there’s more and more brown and less blue. I’ve already written here and complained about my health issues. I’m going through chronic pain, thyroid, autoimmune and liver problems as well as depression and emotional pain. While part of me wants to have a pity party, to throw my fists in the air and ask, “why me?”; another part is reminded, on this anniversary of the worst day of my life which led to an amazing period of realizing my place in life and of living in beautiful intimacy with my creator, that the way to find satisfaction and peace is to simply let go. To surrender and fall into him. All this brown, brokenness is leading me there. And for that, I am so thankful. Because the more brokenness, the easier it is to just let go of striving, and come to the end of yourself and find Jesus there, arms wide open. I can't imagine a better prize!

I’m not trying to encourage anyone to quit school or pack in the job or give up on a dream or a goal. But I hope to make an impact on how we view trials and brokenness. They are not easy, or desirable or enjoyable, but can be the trigger that sets us on a path towards an enrichment that is out of this world - literally!

I don’t want trials in life, I don’t want pain in life. But if that’s what it takes to get me back to that amazing place, the only place I’ve ever felt so alive and on fire and in love - then I say bring it on! Let that be my daughter’s legacy. I know she is in God’s presence now, enlightened and would feel honored if her loss would be used to draw people towards him. And to draw me back into him.

He said, “I came naked from my mother’s womb, and I will be naked when I leave. The Lord gave me what I had, and the Lord has taken it away. Praise the name of the Lord! Job 1 v 21

Meet my new passion

2011-11-03T14:15:00.000-05:00

I've decided to try out this new dynamic view style of blogger. Let me know your thoughts. I'm sure I'll be making lots of changes on it. Not sure if I like it or not yet.

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Anyway, my passion. I've talked about it before but finally have my laptop to post some pictures. I'm talking about our new (to us) camper. She's a 19ft (I think) 1978 nomad. We've given her a name. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you, a much loved member of our family - Caledonia.

For anyone who doesn't know, Caledonia is the latin name for Scotland. And like our home lands, this bonny beauty has a history, a story to tell. I don't know her full story but am intrigued by the mystery. What I do know is she's from 1978, she lived a lonesome life in the middle of a field for many years before a gentleman purchased her and began the process of stripping her down to give her some TLC but was unable to complete the job. So he put her on craigslist, without a photo attached. This is where we come in.

I had a couple of campers in mind that we were hoping to go see later in the week, but this one cost less and we decided to swing by and see her. And I instantly fell in love. I tried to act cool, cause you know, you don't want to be too enthusiastic a customer. But I was about wetting my pants. This was The One.

She was in a yard in a close neighborhood and the gentleman was very helpful in getting her onto the street. He had to dismantle his (friend's?) fence, chop off some tree branches and then Rene was very nervous to pull her out, so the gentleman took our keys and carefully, slowly backed up and moved forward; bit by bit. We even had to take down a mail box from the house across the street, which thankfully the old biddy who owned it was very gracious about (it helped that Rene did his sweet talk thang, play up the Scottish accent and bat his eyelids. He's gooooood).

Then we nervously drove her home. And then I took pics.

Here's the outside. Needs some repairs and a good clean. I also have big plans for an exterior make over. Watch this space.

Rusty, but purdy.

I know you're dying to see inside. Am I right? Ok....let's have a peek inside. Ready? Here she is.

This is the right hand side - The front end.

See the loft bed? It's in pretty good condition! Just needs some reinforcement and fixing up some damaged studs.

But that cabinet has to go.

As does this one

Much of the stripping has already been done. This saved us days and days of work.

Looking to your left from the door

We even got the toilet with it. And some free spare fiberglass.

There's a bathroom

The tub is in great condition.

The retro wallpaper has to go (sorry)

And some great storage in the bathroom that I have decided to keep, though I will make some modifications.

Little sun roof things (why can't I remember the word...?)

Such fun to explore and discover it's potential

*swoon*
I feel like Caledonia is a long lost best friend. We've been practically spending every spare minute working on this thing since we brought her home. It's been incredibly therapeutic for me. I'm pacing myself with it; it's like pilates or yoga - bending and moving, slowly and gently, painting this, moving that, cleaning this, fixing that, rub some glue in here, screw something in over there . It doesn't feel like exercise, it is a pleasure, but it has been so beneficial to me physically, with my recent health obstacles. It's definitely emotionally beneficial, watching your vision become realized at the work of your hand and the passion of your heart. It's even been spiritually beneficial; it's very symbolic of how God clears out all our junk and turns us into something beautiful. And he loves us as his creation, his handy work, his piece of art, his baby.

Rene and I have no experience in any of this. But since my recent experiences with Knock Off Wood I have learned a lot about building and it has developed my spacial awareness. So we're treating Caledonia as a blank canvas; clearing everything out and rebuilding it. I've made designs in sketchup and we're following those. Rene's dealing with the electrics and plumbing while I build the furniture and do paint work. We were both involved with replacing frames and adding studs in places we will need extra support. But I'll get to all that later. I'll show pics of our progress and get you all caught up with where we are at now.

If we had bought a new, arrogant, expensive, showy camper I'd just feel guilty every time we took it out, for wasting such money on leisure. I'm so thrilled that we decided to invest love and sweat instead of hard cash into this baby. I hope she will be with us for many years to come. But even if not, I am so enjoying this process that it's worth it even without an end result!

So there she is. A beauty in the making. You'll see.

I'm so excited!!

2011-10-27T11:29:00.000-05:00

I figured it's about time for a positive update, after all the complaining I've been doing lately. I've had friends and family praying for me and I'm so grateful for it. Things are starting to look up and I'm focusing on the future.

I'm so excited because my laptop has been returned to me - repaired! I hardly recognized it. I am so happy I can finally go through my photos from the whole of this year and start editing and uploading them. I'm still working through January. Check out how cute and tiny Alasdair was. He's changed so much since then.

I'm also excited because we are making good progress on our camper. And now I can post photos of it! Watch this space. It's been so much fun so far. I'm in love with this camper.

And my health update -
I went to an endocrinologist feeling like death. So tired and down and with excruciating pain. And she told me my thyroid lab is in the normal range now, that I have an autoimmune disease and that my pains are most likely unrelated to my thyroid issues, so I should see a rheumatologist. I think we're looking at arthritis or fibromyalgia. It's still under investigation.

I went into a deeper depression after this. For a few reasons. For one, I had put so much hope into this appointment, and hoped that all my symptoms would be resolved with a dosage change of my thyroid meds. But it doesn't need adjusted and I still don't have answers. And it looks like this isn't something that's ever going to go away. I'm going to have to adjust to this as my new normal.

So after a few days of pouting, I've begun to do that. To adjust to this new normal. I'm reading up on how to support health nutritionally and with lifestyle changes. And that's empowering. And I've started to dramatically feel better with regards to the fatigue and depression. It could be a swing in the hashimotos, which causes fluctuations of hyperthyroid and hypothyroid. But I prefer to think it's just an improvement due to changes I've made and the medication. Either way, I'm making the most of it.

A few weeks ago it exhausted me to drag myself to the bathroom to pee. I could hardly move. Rene missed tons of time from work because it was too hard for me to change diapers and prepare food. I was so extremely lethargic. Now I'm up and about, working on the camper, making Halloween costumes, cooking, cleaning, interacting, teaching, living. I am learning to pace myself, taking lots of rests etc. More for the pain than the fatigue. If I overdo it I'm out of action for a few days in agony. But it's all experimental just now, learning what works and what doesn't and trying to get on with my life.

And did I mention I got my laptop back? Yay.

A peaceful birth

2011-10-17T23:52:00.000-05:00

I finally had the courage (and time!) to watch my birth video from Alasdair's birth.

I had been kind of nervous to watch it, because I was worried about my performance. I had spent my pregnancy with him reading about hypnobirthing and watching the hypnobirths on you tube and being totally inspired for a peaceful birth. But when it came to crunch time for me, it was such a fast and furious labor and in my mind it was anything but peaceful. I felt embarrassed and thought for sure I must have traumatized Kaya, I must have been yelling and roaring and flailing and out of control. Rene assured me it had been fine, but he's such a good liar sometimes, I never know if I should believe him.

So now, all these months later, I finally decided to watch the birth from a perspective other than my own. And it was soooo different from how it had been in my head. I made a couple of groaning noises at first, but then I became completely focused and quiet. You could have heard a pin drop. The lights were dim, essential oils burned, there was music playing softly in the background, there was the occasional swooshing sound as I shifted my body in the water. Everything was serene and beautiful. I am so grateful to Rene and Kaya for respecting my need for peace and quiet at that time. Kaya uttered a few words of encouragement, but otherwise she silently filmed and watched this miracle unfold.

She spoke to me a few days ago with a question, "guess which 2 moments were my most amazing moments in this family?"
I thought it would be some birthday or vacation. But she answered her own question,
"getting to see my brothers being born. It's so amazing that moment when the baby is out and we find out if it's a boy or a girl, and we're all so happy."

It was beautiful to watch this moment back. I pulled my baby out of the water and was instantly ecstatic. He was pink and grumpy, I was enthusiastically confessing my love for him. It was electric, magical, intense, perfect.

I find it incredible how different my memory of the birth was from the actual event as recorded. But both my memory and the film agree on one thing - that it was a truly amazing, empowering experience. I am so grateful to have had the chance to live it.

Highs and lows of a 9 month old

2011-10-06T15:00:00.000-05:00

I can't believe Ally is 9 months old already. It's been an amazing 9 months thus far, I can't possibly sing this boy's praises enough. I am so glad our family has been blessed with him. He has an incredible, loving spirit, and it feels like he's always been with us.

I love this age/stage so much. There are definitely highs and lows though. For example:

HIGH
Alasdair has mastered the art of crawling!

LOW
Um...let's just say we've been motivated to do some clever rearranging of where we keep the cats' litter trays.

HIGH
He's pulling himself up to stand on furniture.

LOW
We've become well acquainted with arnica cream for bumps and bruises.

HIGH
He loves to sing and chatter and babble.

LOW
They don't seem to appreciate it much during prayers at church.

HIGH
He is such a funny baby. He loves to play peekaboo and make funny noises and crack up laughing.

LOW
I don't find it so amusing at 3am when he sits up and has a giggle fest.

HIGH
He has such a curiosity for life. He loves to investigate textures and sounds and see what things feel like.

LOW
He particularly love experimenting with spectacles and clumps of hair.

HIGH
He loves trying new foods and is never picky.

LOW
Most meal times require a full strip down, sometimes a bath and always a change of clothes.

HIGH
He's constantly learning new things. He can do a number of baby signs, he can say a few words, he drinks from a straw, claps his hands, does the wiggle dance to yo gaba gaba on demand, blows kisses, even tries to snap his fingers.

LOW
It's a reminder of how very fast he's growing. His babyhood is flying past. I am going to miss these days very sorely. I'm so proud of him and so besotted with him. I just wish I could savor it more, maybe press the pause button for a while...

epfrickingic

2011-09-09T10:27:00.000-05:00

That's my new thing. Breaking up a word and slotting the word fricking in the middle for added drama. I'm going to start a new trend.

My life has been pretty epic lately. I haven't posted much recently because my laptop has been broken for some time. I am using my husband's laptop but I can't put my photos on there. I haven't uploaded any photos this whole year. And Ally has gone through so many stages of adorableness. I must share them. Hopefully I'll get it fixed soon...

So in the few weeks I've neglected to blog some adventures in the Docherty household. We've/I've battled sicknesses, broken a cell phone in the washer, lost a small child in a huge DIY store for what felt like hours but was probably minutes, broke down crying in said DIY store, accidentally broke a bounce house at a children's event when I tripped on the cable, resulting in many disappointed kids who were quickly and safely evacuated while I hid and blushed, had a major panic attack after two deer ran in front of my car and I nicked the butt of one of them, got a new car after our van started breathing it's final few breaths, walked into corners of opened windows and banged up my forehead, cleaned up a whole gallon of milk Zoe poured all over the carpet, cleaned up an ocean of shredded cheese sprinkled all over the house, admired the pictures in ink drawn all over the walls which don't want to budge, called my husband home from work to help fix my glasses which Turtle had used to practice tying a celtic knot, refereed many many sibling squabbles, cared for 2 adorable 5 week old kittens who showed up at my deck, buried one of the kittens and grieved so hard, endured many sleepless nights with a baby and his stuffed up nose, fallen down a couple of outdoor steps in the dark and smashed up my right hand side of my body giving myself quite a limp and lots of pain, gone for camping trips that turned epic with whining kids and failing equipment and bad attitudes, faced many challenges, victories and failures.

HEALTH COMPLAINTS

But the main drama preoccupying my mind and time and energies right now is some health issues I'm going through. For the past 1-2 years I've been feeling like I'm slowly deteriorating. It's been hard to say exactly what. I've just described it as "I feel like I'm falling apart". My last pregnancy wiped me out more than usual and I've struggled to pick back up after having him. Then I started noticing signs of depression, but I was reluctant to admit it. I had some strange issues running parallel, like I would see faces in inanimate objects and feel like I was being watched, and I had a strong paranoia that The Man, Uncle Sam, CPS, whoever, wanted to take my kids away (this was completely unfounded, pinched out of thin air). Red flag. (and no, I don't smoke weed or anything of the sort)

I committed to losing weight, hoping that would resolve many of my physical symptoms. I started weight watchers which I've had some success with in the past. But this one week of weight watchers about killed me. Suddenly my rate of deterioration accelerated tenfold, I felt sick, tired, lethargic, in pain all over, weak. I was an emotional wreck, completely breaking down left right an center. I had thick brain fog and amnesia and couldn't hardly put thoughts together, I couldn't look after my kids so Rene missed a lot of time from work. I stayed completely within my WW points but gained a pound. When I was breaking down over, I can't even remember what it was about, I was in the corner of the room crying and really acting like a crazy person, when Rene became a little more forceful about suggesting I go to the doctor. He had been very gently trying to persuade me for some time, while continuing to trust me to assess my own need. But he was realizing he really had to intervene. It was a very low point.

So the Dr appointment was far less scary than I had unreasonably feared it would be. I was given antidepressants which is helping profoundly with the emotional issues and paranoia. I'm not sure how much of it may have been post natal depression or purely related to the other discovery they made - that I have hypothyroid. Ok, that ties together so many of my symptoms and complaints, it makes perfect sense. It explains the lethargy, the sluggishness, the deterioration. So I'm on thyroid medications and it's slowly having a positive effect, but it definitely feels like 3 steps forward 2 steps back.

I am also in constant severe pain all over my body, particularly my joints which seems to be getting worse rather than better, and it is very much effecting my quality of life. So that's still under investigation.

Basically, I turned 30 and became an old, decrepit, whining woman instantly.

NOMADS

But on a totally positive note, the other piece of drama preoccupying my mind is a purchase we made of a banged up travel trailer that needs a TON of work before it will be suitable, but I can see the finish product in my mind and I am so excited about it. I'm pacing myself and doing what I can, when I have enough energy. And Rene is doing tons too. it's SUCH a fun project and I'm totally obsessed and loving it. I have been taking photos and I will document the journey. So watch this space.

And those are the ramblings from my still fogged up mind. I hope it made some sense and got my blog caught up with where I'm at just now. It's a tough season in my life, but also such an important one. My kids are at such a tender age, and I know I'll miss this season more than any other when it's all said and done. So I'm trying to savor it despite setbacks.

Confessions of a crazy woman

2011-08-29T08:53:00.000-05:00

If life had progressed the way that it does in the majority of cases, this little babe would be turning 10 years old today.

10 years ago today I had my waters broken and things progressed fast. So fast that her heart started having decelerations and I was threatened with a c-section. But before we had time to mess with that, she was ready to come out, and she flew out in a couple of easy pushes, and in an instant I was everything I had dreamed of being since I had been a 2 year old cutie playing with my dolls and toy ironing board. I was somebody's whole world, and she was mine.

That imprints on your heart and it's permanent. Peach and I spent 10 weeks together reinforcing our bond. Indelibly carving the shape of her onto my innermost parts. It's not undoable.

So here's where I start with the crazy woman part. Most of you will read this and think, wow, that's messed up. But those of you who have experienced loss will (hopefully) totally understand. These are the secrets of grieving mothers.

I still hold out hope that she'll come back to me. See, I told you it's crazy. I know in my head she's not coming back, and I know that in fact I'll go to her someday. But on a physical, earthly level. My human body, it doesn't know she's gone, and it still longs to be maternal to her. Part of me is always open to a ten year old girl (or whatever age she'd be at the time) knocking on my door and saying, "there was a mix up, I didn't actually die, and now I'm home". My arms remain warm and prepared for the huge hug I'll need to give to make up for lost time.

My body still throws up an error when I do a headcount of my kids to make sure everyone is buckled in their car seats and the number comes up correct, yet there's one missing. It sends my whole feedback system off its loop.

Sometimes I hear a little girl voice call out, "Mummy?" and it doesn't sound like Kaya or Lana or Zoe, and for a split second, I think it must be her. For a split second, my body begins loading that huge-make-up-time hug into my arms, and then my brain informs my body that the hug will not be required, she's not here and won't ever be. Which causes an aching. A physical, very real aching.

When strangers ask how many kids I have, I have to stand and count them. Because my innate reaction is to say 6. But my head knows that's not right, so I get back an error message. I look stupid to the stranger while I deal with my confusion and I count my kids then provide my response to the question. Which usually puts a quick end to the discussion. Because they conclude that I'm a bit of a crazy woman. And I guess they're right.

Why Pinterest is the best thing to happen to the web since google

2011-07-26T12:17:00.000-05:00

Remember back in the day when T-Rex roamed the Earth and there was a new phenomenon on the horizon called The Internet? We knew it was something pretty awesome, computers all networked together like telephones so people could communicate information digitally, all around the world. But there wasn't a whole lot you could actually do with it. Unless you had a website address scribbled on a piece of paper to type in and visit with a specific purpose in mind, it was pretty useless really.

Then came search engines. Suddenly we become aware of all sorts of websites we'd never have noticed before. Now there's such a thing as "surfing the internet". My brother would sometimes sneak me into his lab at university so I could have the privilege of using this futuristic piece of genius. I'd excitedly sit in front of a google page and try to think of things I like. I'd eventually think of some rock star and google his name. How exciting. Woohoo lots of results...fan pages...how awesome.

Then of course came social networking which revolutionized the net all over again. There's a movie about it, so I needn't elaborate.

I've always enjoyed the ability to bookmark favorite websites in my browser. It's a great way to keep track of tutorials and recipes etc but I always end up with a HUGE list of sites and it's too much bother to scroll through them. Plus it's frustrating when one computer breaks and I get a new one and lose all my bookmarks.

And fairly recently we've had the joy of google images. It's a great way to browse for inspiration on certain subjects, but not very easy to bookmark them for later perusal. Often I'll right click - save as, but chances are I'll never go look through those images again, especially since I no longer have to scrutinize my hard drive for things to delete to make space like in the olden days (I remember a time my now husband spent a months wages on a piece of hardware and proudly boasted to me, "We'll never run out of hard drive space again - this baby is 4 WHOLE GIGABYTES!!").

I've heard a whole lot of buzz about Pinterest lately and decided to check it out, and I'm glad I did. I'm spending so much time on there now. Pinterest is the best of search, social network, bookmarking and image databasing. It can basically turn the net into whatever you want it to be: An interior decorating magazine, an art gallery, a place for comic relief, homeschooling resource, recipe book. It's basically a giant pinboard of images from around the web, with links to the source of the image (blog post, tutorial or whatever). It also functions as social network site with friends and boards you follow.

Here's a peek into some of the stuff from my pinboards:

Snack ideas:

Mozzerella sticks wrapped in egg roll and fried

Fried apple rings with cinnamon sugar butter

Meringue mushrooms

Home decor ideas

Picture that folds down into a table

Framed scrapbook papers

Make use of wasted space

Homeschool ideas:

DIY Magnetic putty

Edible dna model

Cloud inspector

I'm having so much fun being inspired and seeing eye candy. There are so many clever people out there.

So that's why you need to sign up for Pinterest (and follow Niecey Docherty)

Every day waking with Ally - co-sleeping win

2011-07-16T23:31:00.001-05:00

He wakes up before me in the morning and watches my closed eyelids like a cat stalking it's prey. The instant I surrender to the invoking sounds of him breathing and kicking his chubby little feet to tell me a new day has begun and I open my eyes, he lights up like an electrical storm and all hint of my morning grumps are instantly burned away by his infectious bliss. When his sparkly eyes meet mine it's as though he and I share a special secret. His gaze expresses him as shy yet secure and totally besotted. As am I. We exchange grins and glances back and forth while I slowly stretch and yawn, intermittently immersing him in a great depth of kisses, which contribute to his delight almost as much as to my own. I can't think of a better way to start the day.

If I can do this, anyone can. (Zoe's bed)

2011-06-15T19:21:00.000-05:00

Inexperienced, clumsy me. The one who recently discovered anawhite.com and was inspired to build Zoe's play kitchen and my coffee table, prior to which I had never used a drill or a power saw, other than maybe briefly in techie in school, but I don't remember much about that. Anyway the point is, I am very very much a beginner. I make TONS of mistakes. But I like tackling big projects.

And when I saw plans on Ana White for a loft bed with playhouse underneath, a dream was born. With the element of a child's imagination added, this piece of furniture could create magical childhood memories. I imagined how I'd love to play in it if I were a child. This could be awesome. So I got a bit overambitious and I jumped in on a project I was no where near qualified to tackle. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do."

So first I'll win your approval by showing off the finished project. This is Ana's design with some modifications by me. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Zoe's new bed!

Next I'll tell you everything I did wrong.

Every leg post is supposed to have 3 boards which combine when assembling the built walls. I misread some instructions so the finished bed has one of the legs with 2 boards and one with 4 boards. Oops. It wasn't too hard to adjust it to still fit solid, but still quite an oops.

Some of the railings weren't tight, and the boards were splitting. They're all good now, but it took much more time and more attempts than it ought to have.

After I built the large back wall, it occurred to us that it wouldn't fit in through her door, so we had to saw it in half and stick it back together in her room.

A word of advice...use a lighter weight plywood for the walls. I used heavy particleboard and man those walls were hard to lug around.

I built this baby completely myself, then Rene helped me assemble it, which turned out to be a far greater task than I had anticipated, keeping us up til midnight twice. All the niggly little finishing touches etc. Plus I decided at the last minute that I wanted to paint the rails brown instead of the cream they had been, so we repainted when it was in her room assembled. Thank you for your help Rene!

Unfortunately, in the process of making Zoe's bed, I had my fattest moment ever when I sat on Turtle's bed and broke it. We replaced it with a cheap wee one from a yard sale and I will eventually have to make him one too. Rene got a laugh out of it. So we're +1 bed and -1 bed.

So here's our work in progress.

It started its life as a pile of wood

Sometimes I worked (on safe things that weren't too noisy) with a baby on my back

Getting there...

Painting, staining and having helpers

Rene staying up late helping install things

Ok so now for the fun bit - the details. It's all in the details.

The stairs are really fun. They are safer than a ladder and the best part is...

...hidden storage compartments. Great design Anna! We use the bottom two as storage (unfinished wood, but nobody has to see it). They're great for extra bedding, or hiding a secret journal or something. We have a padlock on the top one and have something extra special inside, which you'll see in a minute.

Here's the top of the bed. I'd like to make Zoe some blankets to co-ordinate with her house, but I have other things ahead of that in the priority list.

*waves at Ally in the bumbo*

Let's have a peek inside. Here's the front window from the inside. I'm not great at sewing and had no pattern for these curtains. I made many mistakes and they look ridiculous to me, but Zoe likes them which was the goal.

Let's have a look at the left wall. See that rectangular thing on the right side? That's why we have the padlock on the top storage shelf.

It's a fish tank! With guppies. We need to get a brighter light for it, since this one is pretty dull. But you get the main idea. This was my idea and I'm quite pleased with how it turned out. Rene helped with getting the box it sits on to fit inside the storage stairs which I built first, foolishly. There's a little ledge to rest things on, and plenty space in the storage stairs for their food and accessories. The light is on a timer.

"And what's that big black rectangle on the wall for?" I hear you ask. "It's a chalkboard, freak" I reply, 'cause I'm rude like that.

Let's visit the far right side. I wanted shelves but didn't think it through properly. These are functional, but not super pretty. Oh well.

And the other window.

And finally, the feature fireplace. I love this fireplace. I made it out of reclaimed cedar from someone's 25 year old swingset. It has a story to tell.

And looky what it does at the touch of this remote

We tried many different home made attempts, before ultimately buying this one, which is better than our red boa with small fan prototypes. This is a fan with cool leds. It doesn't get hot at all.

Zoe wanted to pose with her house for the blog.

So there you have it. And if I can do it, anyone can.

Every day is...

2011-06-05T22:36:00.000-05:00

*I* thought we had a great day today. Church in the morning then some special snacks from Trader Joe for a treat, then our annual tradition of strawberry picking, riding on the hay stack ride (without hay, but it was the same truck), then home to enjoy home made snow cones and popsicles in the sun outside and play in both pools, and refreshing ourselves with juicy, chilled watermelon.

But apparently it was "the worst day ever". Which is funny, because yesterday was also the worst day ever, as was the day before that, and before that and so on.

Ah, the joys.

The Ward Family

2011-05-28T01:02:00.000-05:00

Melody Ward, mother of 5 and pregnant with number 6, has recently been through something more traumatic than I could ever imagine. It must have felt like a bitter end on May 22nd when she and her young family huddled together in their basement in Joplin Missouri while the sirens blasted and the merciless, deadly tornado buried them in what was once their home. I cannot imagine being a pregnant mom, trying to comfort your frightened children in the midst of that.

They were luckier than some in that they were all rescued, and whilst they are all injured, they are all alive.

They've lost their home and all their possessions.

They are traumatized and shaken.

But they refuse to be defeated. This is an inspirational family, full of faith and hope. I'm not the only person to have been reduced to tears, inspired and amazed by observing their resilience and incredibly positive attitude through this disaster.

If you are also moved by their story, there is a relief effort which has been very touching to see the generosity of people in supporting this beautiful family. You can get involved here
http://wardfamilyrelief.com/
You can even donate via paypal, starting at $5

There is also an address for donating items like kids clothes, toys, homeschooling curriculum, walmart cards etc.

And you can also help by praying for them. Pray that God will meet their physical needs and also pray that He will help heal their emotional wounds. I can't imagine the nightmares those kids must be having, while their mom recovers in hospital. Please support this family in prayer.

Sorry for my poor writing tonight. It's late, I'm tired and the laptop is misbehaving, but I wanted to make sure and share this family with you all.

a mom's lego table. I made it.

2011-05-03T22:29:00.000-05:00

I'm finally getting round to posting pics of this moms lego table that I made in March. I've been super busy lately, with the building stuff. I have a bunch of things to show you. I've just been lazy with getting photos uploaded.

I found this plan on anawhite.com and I needed to build it. It's a great design, a sophisticated coffee table with hidden storage for kids legos or other toys. I needed decent storage for blocks and legos, because I was constantly finding them strewn all over my house, upstairs and downstairs. They weren't able to play with them because they were never together in a set. This project instantly moved up to top place on my todo list and I got it done.

I must admit, I'm quite pleased with it, and with myself. Here's the finished product.

This is how it began its life - as a pile of wood.

I drilled and glued and screwed.

And then I had myself a table.

March was an awkward month, on cold days I stained in the garage.

On warm ones I was able to do it out in the sunshine.

And then it was complete.

The kids all love it. We take out blocks from time to time, then...put them all back when we're done. What a novel idea!

Highlights

2011-05-02T13:35:00.000-05:00

I had a long, eloquent post written out last night, but I deleted it in a rash decision which I now sort of regret.

I don't really have the umption to write it out again, so I'll spare all the decorative bits tying it all together and I'll give you the highlights:

- I'm almost 30. I only have a couple days left. I'm not happy about it in the slightest.

- Rene shouted out "wedgie" in the middle of church simply because he had one, and didn't seem to understand the reason for the look of horror on my face.

Yeah, I think that was pretty much all that was noteworthy. The rest was boring rambling.

Oh, I'll throw in a pic of my boys, cause they look so cute just now. Here's what they're doing this very minute.

Lack of accomplishment - with 5 kids

2011-04-25T22:37:00.000-05:00

We had a busy and tiring (especially for Rene) weekend. I was exhausted too, lots of physical work and very little sleep. Today was a very Scottish day, cold and rainy, overcast and yucky. So I decided to make it a "lazy day" and I didn't get much accomplished.

But it's amazing how different "not doing much" looks now, with 5 kids, from how it looked a few years ago when I was childless. Perhaps a lazy day then would be snuggling in front of the telly with a blanket, checking my e-mail a few times, eat, have a bath.

My lazy day today included the following:

cook porridge
make kefir
Wash a load of diapers
dress kids
wash a load of laundry
nurse multiple times
giggle and laugh with kids and baby
change many diapers
bake loaf of bread
make silly videos with kids
emergency shower 2 year old who pooped all over
clean up spilled poop on floor
fetch many cups of water and miscellaneous requested items
answer questions about the solar system
water seedlings
wipe tears
referee fights
help 2 year old go to potty
feed and water bunnies
misc mundane tasks like changing bed sheets, putting away some laundry etc
colors and books with kids
help kids with spelling activities
get a couple computer projects finished
get out sewing machine to sew but find it's broken to do some stitch ripping instead
clean bathroom
tidy livingroom (twice)

And I feel guilty that I didn't do enough, because there was much on the todo list that didn't get seen to. There was no TV involved today, or snuggling on couches but there was some Internet surfing and sitting on my bed. Rene worked hard all day, came home and cooked a meal and helped with cleaning. I'm a lucky woman.
But there's no rest for the wicked. I guess that means Rene has recently been a little more wicked than I???

Fair trade, natural, fun, delicious Easter craft

2011-04-19T15:33:00.000-05:00

I love spring. I love the bulbs bursting out of ground that looked dead all these months. I love the sweetness and hope that comes from the new life all around; baby lambs nursing, baby birds chirping, bunnies getting all twitterpated and frolicking around. I love the warmth in the breeze and the promise of summer it carries with it.

And it's all symbolic of Easter itself and all that we celebrate on that day. Life bursting forth from death, new life (in him), hope and promise for the future. It's the day Jesus kicked death in the rear end and showed who's boss. It's because of that day I have hope that I'll see my daughter again one day, it's because of that day that I don't fear the end of my days on earth, it's because of that day I celebrate my God who is so strong nothin' can keep him down, not even death itself. It's an incredible day.

I enjoy anticipating Easter with little kids. We always do a treasure hunt on Easter morning, just as my parents used to do for my brother and I every year. My monkeys love it. They've been counting down days until Easter since the end of March.

This Easter though, I'm reluctant to buy the same junk they usually find in their baskets in the morning. We've found that Zoe reacts severely to colorings in food. The kids all react in some way, but Zoe's is the most extreme. I would rather enjoy our Easter with happy little kids playing, than pull my hair out all day while Zoe runs up and down the walls, foams at the mouth and rotates her head 360 degrees. So I have asked the Easter bunny to help track down some natural candy. Which was easy enough, (though pricey).

The difficult part however, is finding fair trade Easter chocolate. Of course fair trade isn't any healthier. But I've learned recently that if I buy any chocolate off the shelf that isn't fair trade, there's a majority chance that I'm supporting Ivory Coast chocolate, where there are tens of thousands of children being sold and kidnapped into slavery, hardly fed, beaten and even killed, to feed our fancy for a bit of choccy. I just cannot justify it.

I don't have my speakers to verify this is the video I was thinking of, but I hope it is..

Anyway, now that you know, you can't claim ignorance anymore. If you're not part of the solution you're part of the problem. So buy fair trade!

< / preach session>

It's not easy to find fair trade Easter themed chocolate. So the first thing I did was e-mail various Easter/candy webstores and asked if they have any fair trade Easter chocolates. I encourage you to do the same, ultimately the consumer makes the vote and can change the industry. The more we ask for fair trade, the more they'll buy fair trade. Let's start turning their heads with a simple contact us form, just ask a simple sentence question about fair trade. You don't have to get elaborate.

Due to lack of success in locating fair trade Easter chocolate, I opted to make our own. It's a fun craft, the kids love it, it's delicious, it counts as homeschooling time and it helps everyone get more riled up for Easter.

FAIR TRADE CHOCOLATE NESTS WITH SWEET, EDIBLE, NATURAL EGGS AND BIRDS FOR EASTER CRAFT

So here's what you'll need (I didn't measure anything, just play by ear until you get it right):
For the nest -
-Some fibrous edible substance for the nest, such as wheetabix, noodles or shredded wheat. We used kashi vanilla island mini wheats, because it's what we had in stock.
-Some fair trade chocolate chips. I found mine at hyvee, but you can also buy them online, like these ones at amazon.com
-honey ( I used raw, but ended up heating it to make it runny)
For the eggs and birds -
I sort of made it up as I went along. Some dry ingredients and some wet ones from your pantry. Throw some in and see what you come up with. Here's what I used
powdered milk
tapioca starch
sugar (which I threw in the blender to powder it, not sure if it was necessary, but it was fun)
honey
peanut butter
splash of milk
palm shortening
coconut oil
vanilla
natural food coloring (you can make your own by boiling down beet juice, blending blueberries and avacados etc or buy some. I bought mine)

Here's the steps:

Pour the wheat, wheatabix etc in a large bowl, give the kids a big spoon or potato masher and let them go to town, smashing it to smithereens. They'll love this part.

Pour the fair trade chocolate chips in another bowl and nuke them on low/medium for about a minute. Take it out, stir it, then in for another 30 seconds or so. Stir again. Then do 20 seconds at a time until it's good and melted. Or you can do this in a double broiler, keep stirring, don't let any water splash in and be careful not to burn.

Melt some honey (or if it's already runny you're good to go) and add it to your melted chocolate. Stir in the wheat and mix it all in until it's nice and gooey and wet all through.

Then the best bit - getting messy. Pull out a lump of the nesting material with your hands and shape it into a nest. You can place on greaseproof paper or cupcake papers. We used coffee filters, which worked just fine.

When you're happy with the shape, stick it in the fridge to harden.

Then get a clean bowl and make up the dough. Throw in the wet and dry ingredients, stir and add more of whatever until it's a good consistency. The main component of your dough should be a nut butter of some type.

Then separate the dough into tubs and add natural colorings to each one. My kids had fun working the colors in with their hands and getting all greasy.

Now it's ready to play with and make your eggs. My girls wanted to make birds too, which were adorable. Have fun, be creative. Take your nest out of the fridge and place your eggs in it. It's ready to eat right away and can be kept in the fridge for a while (couple days?) if you want to save it for later. I was a bit nervous to try the dough, but it ended up being my favorite part. I'm not a huge peanut butter fan, but it was really yum.

This very minute

2011-04-14T14:46:00.000-05:00

I have paint and stain all over myself from working on a project, and the kids won't take any rebukes seriously with white paint on my nose

I have awesome tunes singing at me through pandora

My grinder is noisily making flour for the loaf of bread I'm about to make

There's a pot of coffee brewing

Zoe's walking past with a metal bowl on her head, and she's banging it with a spatula

Ally's smiling at me and making raspberry noises from his bouncy seat while Lana coos at him

Turtle is sucking his thumb and using my trousers (that I'm currently wearing) as a foofy and intermittently getting down on all fours hopping like a frog and pretending he's a horse (that hops?)

The fire alarm just went off because the oven needs cleaned out

There's mess everywhere needing wiped and cleaned and put away

The seedlings need watered and my feet hurt and I'm sleep deprived

and I very much love my life. Thank you God for all these blessings.

he/she's my life

2011-04-04T13:09:00.006-05:00

On Saturday we finally were healthy enough (after weeks of illness) to head out to the YMCA for the kids' lessons. Having dropped off Kaya and Rene in their taekwondo and Lana in her dance class, with Zoe and Turtle playing in the child watch, I had a bit of quality time with Ally.

I looked down at his adorable wee head, snuggled into my chest in the Over The Shoulder Baby Holder sling, gave him a little kiss and then uttered some words innocently, unaware of what this action would bring about. Had I known, I would have spared it for a more appropriate time and place. Certainly not in the YMCA hallway, with people all around, on this busy Saturday morning.

What I had whispered to my baby was the simple phrase, "you're my life".

As soon as the words left my lips I began to be instantly transported back in time. I went back nearly ten years in a fraction of a second, so fast it was disorienting. It was hard to not fall over, I was dizzy and suddenly felt cold and wet. It was cold and bitter, must have been early November. It smelled like Scotland...yes, it was the street Rene and I lived on as newlyweds in Bonnybridge, Scotland. It was pitch dark, about 4 in the morning. Bitter cold, yet I was barely dressed. Why was I out at this unsociable hour?

And so wet. My knees, and my cheeks were drenched. The ground was wet from rain and I was kneeling on the ground, aware that I was making a ridiculous scene in this quiet neighborhood. And I really didn't care what they thought of me. The boundaries that surrounded my life were coming completely undone. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, heaving with the effort, in a state of utter panic and screaming as loud as I could,

"Please God, NO! Please God, nooooooo! She's my life. She's my life!!!"

I knew it was probably too late. She had gone far too long without taking a breath. I was sure I had heard her making a noise, I would hold onto that slither of hope as though I were grasping a root as I plummeted off a cliff. Plus, I had seen Reinhard Bonnke on tv, raising someone from the dead. And Jesus had raised Lazarus, so it could be done.

And if anyone deserved to be raised, it was this sweet, perfect daughter of mine. She had only had 10 weeks on this Earth so far, and had already had a huge impact on it. Certainly on her father and I, on her grandparents. She was a little piece of perfection. And I knew she would be a fantastic mother one day, she still hadn't had that chance yet. There's no way God could let this happen. Not with her whole future ahead of her. So I pleaded and I begged and I screamed and I wept and I threw a big fat temper tantrum right there in my street, at 4am on a cold November Friday morning.

Then I saw the flashing lights finally come up my street, and I ran back to my home, suddenly aware of how far away from it I had traveled. I saw a man from our church run out of the ambulance and I knew this was my best hope. His equipment couldn't save her now, but God could. I didn't care what tubes he would poke in her or what he'd pump into her lungs. I had no faith in them. So I continued at the volume I had used on the street and I begged him, completely undignified, "Danny, YOU HAVE TO PRAY! PLEASE PRAY!!"

But I watched him carry her to the ambulance, and we followed, and I saw him refuse to give up trying, but in his eyes I read that he knew she wasn't coming back. He would continue to try the whole journey, which was a 20 minute journey that took days. I'm sure it was days. Many of them.

Half way there I felt a peace wash over me. As though I felt her spirit leave this world, and look back at me and wink. I knew she was going somewhere amazing, and I knew I was going to follow her. I didn't feel any guilt over the matter, I didn't feel like it would be wrong or irresponsible, I thought perhaps after we got out of the hospital Rene and I would go take a drive in the car into a quarry or some place from which we would not return. I wasn't sure how we'd do it, but I was pretty sure he'd want to join me. And it felt wonderful, a deep peace at the thought of going where she was going.

From the moment her little feet slid out of my body and she was placed low on my abdomen while they untangled her, and in my exhausted, bewildered state, I held onto her body for dear life, I lived to protect her. She was everything. That moment my future became completely entwined in her.

Fused together inseparably. I would sometimes stare at her and imagine her at all sorts of ages and stages, as a child, a teenager, a mother, an old woman. Any hopes I had for my own future were all found in her. There was no way to remove her from it. There never will be. So it was completely natural to me that I would take my life since she had lost hers. Staying here where she wasn't, made no sense and I was certain everyone would understand and even expect it.

If we were to find an important building, like an embassy or a prison or some other high security facility - if we were to find such a place raided, windows smashed, recently abandoned, we would be shocked. It would make the news. But it if were to happen in the middle of an apocalypse, while far more terrible things were going on all around, while the foundations of the earth were caving in and the air was thick with blood red smog and corpses littered the earth and the sky itself was cracking open, we wouldn't even bat an eyelid at the state of the embassy. Out of context I knew suicide was not something to be considered. But the entire world was coming to an end here. A mother does not bury her own daughter. Surely some important law of physics was being broken and the whole universe was going to collapse. Taking my life would be entirely appropriate given the context.

So a few blurs later, when the man in a white coat told us he was sorry, there was nothing he could do, and my husband threw his whole body into the arms of his own father and vomited in the hallway, I sat still and dived into this Dr's crystal blue eyes as though swimming through refreshing cool waters in July. I couldn't really make out any of his words and everything around me became a smudged fuzz, but those eyes were clear and crisp. And I knew everything would be ok. I was going to go to heaven!

I suspect my family and close friends anticipated I'd feel this way because they made a combined effort to ensure Rene and I were never left alone for the next few weeks. Mum gave up her bed for us to sleep, we had chauffeurs to the store, escorts back to our house to dispose of diapers and loved ones to hold us while we crumbled in fits of sobs, listening to her little giraffe mobile that she had so adored, chiming, "you are my sunshine" to nobody.

We had people to confide in when we heard her ghost cry out to us, or when I woke with engorged breasts and instinctively panicked that she hadn't eaten all night and then had to lose her all over again. Just as I had done the 4 proceeding days. We were surrounded with love and support and weren't left alone.

Well, we were left alone long enough to conceive Kaya, who's dates we're still uncertain of. But it was sometime very close to her sister's death, on one side or the other of it. I stared at the 2 pink lines in shock, bewilderment, excitement, fear and hope. And suddenly, I was grounded. Heather gave me wings to soar above it all and Kaya gave me the roots to bloom a bit here before I take flight someday.

And with that memory I began to spiral back to 2011, back to the YMCA where I leaned against a wall to stop from falling, I looked at this little fuzzy head at my bosom, I inhaled the fragrance of new life and I used all my might to fight off the drops of salt water that tried to force themselves out of my eyes and onto my cheeks. 5 of them overwhelmed me and I wiped them quickly, aware of strangers' eyes on me, trying to make sense of a fat dreadhead crying in the corridor. I glanced through the window and saw Lana spinning and dancing to her own instruction while the rest of the class followed the teacher's steps. I looked toward the room where Daddy blushed and caught his breath trying to swing kick while Kaya blocked it. I felt the hushed pounding of my baby's heart against my body while his chest rose and fell. I had to sit down as I was overcome with awe at how my life has incredibly turned around in the past 10 years. I have such loss and such gain. God did not answer my pleading that cold November in the dark, at least not in the way I wanted him to. But he protected me through it all, preserved me, held me, comforted me and has given me more than I could have envisioned back then.

I caught sight of my reflection in the glass. My eyes met the reflection of my son's, all cozy in my sling. He exposed two big rows of gums in a warming grin and I smiled back. He's my life. They all are. I am so thankful.

Getting my tubes tied today..

2011-04-01T09:01:00.000-05:00

I figured 5 kids is enough. And I've given birth 6 times and don't care to do it again. I don't think I'll ever get baby fever again, I don't care for pregnancy or birth much. And overpopulating the earth isn't very green. So in I go for the snip snip.

And yes, of course I made an April fool out of you. I figured everyone else is pretending they're pregnant today, but it wouldn't be shocking for me, so I went with the more shocking, "I'm NOT having any more kids" route. Did I get ya?