Of excitement and sadness

Ben and I have always wanted a big family...when we saw that first positive pregnancy test we were...well...really anxious...but also elated. We couldn't wait to be parents. And a short 8 ish months later we were. It was easy. Want a baby. Get a baby.

When Connor was just about a year old we thought "hey, these baby things are pretty awesome. We should have some more of them." Then we waited. And waited. And waited some more and then finally...there it was...the positive pregnancy test. We were so excited that we told our parents right away. What could possibly go wrong? A few weeks later we were in St. Louis for our niece's baptism and things went wrong. I called my doctor in a panic and they tried to tell me not to worry, that things could still be okay, but I just knew they weren't. And I was right. We had lost the baby. 

"Don't worry" my doctor said, "miscarriage is much more common than you think." It turns out that one in four women will lose a child. One in four. 

So I tried not to worry, but I worried anyway. And we tried to have another baby. And I again saw that wonderful "positive" sign. This one, I told myself, would be fine. After all, the doctor said that most women only had one miscarriage. I had my one, so I was done with that kind of pain. Forever. 

But I wasn't. This child too was lost in the womb. And again Ben and I cried. And we wondered if we would ever have another child or if Connor was it. 

This time my doctor didn't say "Don't worry." Instead she said we should do some testing just to see if there was something strange going on. And there was. I had Factor V Leiden and MTHRF - it meant that my blood didn't clot right and this was obviously causing my miscarriages. All I had to do was take a shot when I first found out I was pregnant and then ever day of the pregnancy and it would keep the baby alive. Things would be okay. Problem solved. 

Then I became crazy. Or maybe I was already there, but the crazy started to show. I took tests constantly. I had it in my mind that if I could just know as soon as possible that I was pregnant, that I would be able to take that shot and things would be okay. 

And it happened again. We were pregnant. I did that shot. I got in to do that blood work right away. And again, we heard the same news. Our baby was no longer there. We had lost another child. 

All told we've had four miscarriages, our last one coming in between Sophia and Elinor. They've all been painful. They've all made us cry. They've all made us wonder why we were given this cross to bear and to wish it away...or really to request that we just not have to bear crosses. 

October is pregnancy and infant loss awareness month. A month to remember and pray for those who have lost a child in the womb or out of the womb.

A month to tell women that have had miscarriages that it doesn't have to be a secret. That they're allowed to feel real pain and loss for a child they never met. Never held. 

A month to tell women that lost a child in infancy that it's okay to share their pain with others. Even thought it makes us uncomfortable because we don't know what to say or how to ease your burden. 

So share.

If you have lost a child, tell others about your experience. You may end up being a wonderful resource to women who are going through this pain or have experienced this loss. I was given such a resource and was amazing to have someone that I could call and ask questions too...call and confess that I was going to spend all our money on pregnancy tests if I didn't calm down...call and share my joy when Sophia was born. 

And listen. 

Listen to women who need to tell you about the loss they've suffered. There can be healing in sharing your pain with others. It can make your burden lighter. Listen when they tell you they've had a funeral for their unborn child. Listen when they share the names of their unborn children (ours are Jesse, Hope, Grace , and Mercy). Listen even if you think these things sound crazy...because to us, they're not. To us, this is how we acknowledge that an actual life was lost...not just some tissue. 

Lastly, pray. 

Pray for women that have lost child after child in the womb. Pray that our sorrows would be lifted. Pray that God would keep children in the womb everywhere safe. And pray that Christ returns quickly so we can see and hold our sweet babies. We long to do so. 

Pray for women who have held their new precious ones for moments, or weeks, or months, only to have to say goodbye to them too soon. As hard as our pain was, I cannot even fathom how these women must suffer. Pray that they would know that God truly does care for them. That He hasn't abandoned them. 

Pray for women who never see that positive pregnancy sign, no matter how much they want to. Pray that they would receive the child they so desire. Pray that they are given peace.

And pray for those who out of fear have chosen to have their child taken out of this world. So many of these women now regret that decision and the burden it has placed on their conscience. These women need our mercy and forgiveness. Their burden is especially hard because it is one that the world has convinced them they aren't allowed to feel. Pray that they would know the true forgiveness purchased for us by Christ on the cross. 

I like these dolls. A lot...at least $5 worth.

If you have daughters and they are anything like my girls, then they like Barbies. No matter how much I secretly (or not so secretly) want my daughters to play with non-commercial things, they are always drawn to things like Barbies, Ponies, Dora dolls, and Hello Kitty anything. 

We have a hand full of Barbies, some old garage sale finds and some new. Overall the only emotion I've felt about any Barbie I've bought in the store for a while is dissapointed. These aren't the Barbies of my youth. They're cheaply made. The legs are a hollow plastic. Extra outfits cost $7 or more. They break easily. The heads pop off, the legs break off.... And, the cheaper ones just have their shirt painted on... I just don't like them. But my girls...they still love this kind of doll. 

We do most of our shopping at Walmart because that's the cheapest place in town to get our stuff. When we aren't in a hurry, I usually let my kids wander through the toy aisle for a bit before we head to the grocery side of life. It was during one of these days that we stumbled across the Sparkle Girlz doll. 

I'm not going to say that it was love at first sight...but it was a heck of a lot closer than I've come to that emotion in a long time. 

The dolls are slightly larger than Barbie, but are made with way more quality. Their bodies are made from the same material as my Barbies were growing up. They're cutely dressed and my daughters love them.

The best part is that they are less than $5. The going rate at our Wakmart was $4.98. This is a price that Sophie can actually save up for. Extra dresses were right around $3 each...so she can reasonably save up for those too. 

So far I've only seen these at Walmart or on Amazon. They were way more expensive on Amazon though. 

I like them enough to write a blog post to let other moms know....so maybe it is love.

Comfort Dogs

The LCMS comfort dogs are coming to our school chapel service in November. If you aren't sure what that means, you can check it out here.

This event sparked a discussion between me and the kids on why you might need comfort dogs. It wasn't a pleasant conversation as we had to talk about some of the horrible things that have happened over the past couple of years that the comfort dogs went too. We talked about natural disasters, school shootings, why people in these situations need the dogs, and what kind of horrible things would have to befall a town before the comfort dogs are sent in.

What Connor took from this conversation is that people, even in the worst of times, can be comforted by the gentle nature of a great big dog. 

What Sophie took from this conversation is that if our house happened to burn down, and we lost all our stuff...and we didn't have a place to live...we'd totally get to pet the comfort dogs and it would be awesome. 

Clearly I need to find more opportunities for this girl to pet dogs.

Sophie on digesting worms.

Sophie: When I grow up I am never going to digest a worm.

Me: Um...good?

Sophie: Unless maybe they were covered in cinnamon and sugar. Then I guess I could digest them.

Me: I still think they'd be pretty gross.

Sophie: Maybe. But cinnamon and sugar are pretty good.

Me: Yes they are.

Sophie: When you digested worms did you put cinnamon and sugar on them?

Me: I've never eaten a worm.

Sophie: I heard you telling Connor that you had eaten a worm and a rat and that you thought the worm was way worse than the rat. Maybe I should digest a rat instead!

Me: Dissect! I said I had dissected a worm and a rat and that the worm was worse. We didn't eat them!

Sophie: What is dissect?

Me: It's when you cut something open and look inside.

Sophie: Oh gross! I'm never doing that!

Beware of poison.

If you want to have an interesting conversation with Sophie Jane, just bring up poison...or give her a Clorox wipe.

It will go something like this:

Me: Here, why don't you wipe down the table with this wipe?

Sophie: But, is this poison?

Me: Well...kind-of, just don't eat it.

Sophie: But if I ate it then I would die and get to go be with Jesus...

Me: Well, yes, but I'd still prefer that you didn't eat it.

Sophie: Well I won't, because there is NO WAY I'm going to heaven without my parents. We all have to go together.

Me: Sounds good to me.

Sophie: But how will I remember not to eat it? Who will remind me? I'll need someone to tell me all the time!

Me: Sophie, don't eat the Clorox Wipe...there, I reminded you.

Sophie: Whew...if I did eat it, I'd have to go to the dentist and they'd have to clean the poison off my teeth and then I'd probably have to go to the doctor to get a shot. Right?

Me: Uh...sure? That sounds about right.

Sophie: What if it gets on my knees and then I try to eat my knees?

Me: Don't eat your knees.

Sophie: Yeah...we're going to need to tell the babies about this.

Me: Or...how about we just don't give them a Clorox wipe?

Sophie: Yeah, I guess...but we should probably tell them too. Wait! Is that glitter in that bag? Can I play with glitter?

And thus, all thoughts of poison, dentists, death, and eating knees are forgotten.

Back to School

School time is here again. I love having my kids home for the summer, but I have to say that by about August 3rd, we've lost all control of our schedule, we've all gone a little crazy, the house has fallen into shambles and ruin, and we are all ready for the school year to start.

My kids love going to school and I know that a big part of that is that they go to a really awesome one. It's small, there is only one teacher per grade and in the upper grades they even have combined classes. There is something kind of nice about knowing not only who my kids will have as teachers this year, but for the next five years. 

Here are our first day pictures. 

 Every time I think about Sophia being in 4 year old preschool, I automatically think about the fact that this means she'll be in Kindergarten next year. Which then leads me to think about Elinor being in preschool next year and that in just a few short years, all my babies will be in school. 

 I asked her to stand by this column for a picture and this was her go to pose. You know...just acting natural. 

 Yep...this handsome boy is in 3rd grade this year. Crazy. 

 I remembered to take a picture near an object so we can see how much he has changed by the end of the year. I can't wait.

And these two monkeys were pretty happy this morning to not have to share me with two more people. Plus we may have had cookies for breakfast...but I'm pretty sure the happiness was about me. I'm kind-of vain like that. 

Of carnivals, fireworks, and dancing on the sidewalk.

If you happen to be in Atchison, Kansas on the third weekend in July you will notice that something is going on in our little town. For the last eighteen years, The Amelia Earhart Festival has been celebrated here. Amelia Earhart was born in Atchison on July 24th and for the past eighteen years, they've celebrated her birth with a giant festival, including arts, crafts, foods, a carnival, a huge concert, a fireworks show, and even a piece of birthday cake if you time it just right.

 Sophie riding a carnival ride.

 

 You can't see her, but that's Ila up there in that crazy thing. 

 I may have lost three years of my life when Connor said he wanted to ride The Zipper at the carnival. 

Our awesome view for the fireworks. 

 Elinor dancing to the music. 

 Sophia doing some dancing too. 

 My oldest and my youngest babies. 

 Sophia making sure she gets another picture. 

Connor spent a long time chipping a fossil off of this rock. He ended up getting it!

 And we couldn't resist a little of our own carnival fare. 

 Connor was able to meet the governor as he meandered through the crowd. 

In the end, only Connor and I made it through to the firework show as the girls were just not up for the long night. Maybe next year. 

It was a great weekend to wrap up a great week spent with Lynne and Ila. The show, was as always, wonderful. 

Eleven.

Warning: This post contains lovey doveyness which I usually snark at. Seriously.

On Saturday, Ben and I will have been married for eleven years. It is hard to believe that we've been married that long since it feels more like a minute or sometimes eleven million years.

We aren't very fancy, so there won't be flowers on Saturday, and probably not even dinner out. (We had to visit an oral surgeon for Connor this last week and it turns out that you have to pay some big time money to just be in his glorious presence. You don't even want to know how much it costs to let him look into your mouth.)

Maybe I'll make him a special dinner for the two of us to eat after the kids go to bed. That could be kind of nice, right? Or maybe well just stay up late and eat chips with guacamole and watch Jim Gaffigan or Arrested Development. That may be more our speed.

The great thing is that even if I don't make a special dinner, or don't have any special plans for him, Ben will tell me thatI'm the best wife ever, and that he'd marry me all over again. And, even if we don't go out for dinner, and there aren't flowers, I'll tell him that he's my absolute favorite person, and that I'd marry him again tomorrow.

And we'll both mean it. We love being married - and more importantly, we love being married to each other.

We've accomplished a lot in our eleven years. We've moved six times, given birth to four beautiful children, have mourned the loss of four children in the womb, watched Ben get his masters degree and become a pastor, and watched me transition into being a stay at home mom.

We've cried, been frustrated together or at each other, fought, said we were sorry even when we weren't, fought some more, and then said we were sorry again when we actually meant it.

We've perfected the art of belting out a Journey song on the radio, discovered our mutual love of singing "You can't always get what you want" to our children when they are complaining, and can often be found laughing so hard that we are nearly brought to tears.

We are two hopelessly flawed, stubborn, sarcastic, cynical people that through a whole lotta patience, some major crying (me), and tons of forgiveness have been able to make this marriage a joy.

Here is to eleven amazing years and many many more. There's no one I'd rather by sojourning in this place with than you, Ben.

Happy Birthday, baby.

Violet Marie is one today.

I'm pretty sure that this is the fastest any of my babies have turned one. Science suggests that it took all of them a year to do it...but what does science know?

Happy Birthday Violet. May you always be as sweet as you were today (minus the part where you pulled Elinor's hair and pooped all over your clothes).

Of Lead Wizards and Water guns

One of the things Connor had decided he likes to do is perform in plays. He was in the Little Mermaid chorus this last spring and really wanted to do some more of that theater stuff.

We signed him up for Summerstage here in town, which is a three week morning or afternoon program. At the end of the three weeks they put on a play for all to see. Connor was assigned the role of Lead Wizard (which he thought was perfect for him) and yesterday morning and tonight we got to go watch him in action. 

As an added bonus, Sophia was picked as an audience volunteer which she thought was only the most amazingly best thing ever. 

Connor's had such a great time these past few weeks and I've enjoyed hearing him talk about things like blocking and voice. He already can't wait until next year. 

Sophie gets her moment in the spotlight. 

Connor's big scene.

Of camps, bug resorts, and ant-free restaurants.

For those of you who missed me complaining about it a hundred million times, Ben is gone all this week.

Here's the thing...I know that there are hundreds of amazing capable mothers out there that take care of their children by themselves every day. I was raised by one of these amazing mothers. My best friend is one of these amazing mothers. I know they're out there, I just don't claim to be among their ranks.

The funny thing is that because Ben is a pretty busy guy, I honestly do most of the day to day parenting in the house. I fix nearly all the meals, I wipe almost all of the bottoms, I make the kids pick up, I lay out clothes for the next day.... But when he is home, Ben can be a huge help. He'll put those dishes away and reload the dishwasher. He fold that basket of laundry that I haven't gotten to for the past day (or three). He'll change that occasional diaper. And my favorite thing he does...he'll put the kids to bed while I relax on the computer.

All that being said, this week has not been nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. I haven't lost my cool nearly as often as I thought I would. I haven't been that stressed out. I haven't even cried yet. I don't want to say that all this calmness and not crying is because I bought a couple of litters of Coke, but it has definitely not made things worse. Also not making things worse...the blondies I made on Sunday night...that are now gone. I might have to make some more of those...while having a Coke, of course.

In fact, this week has actually been kind of fun. We've watched every Tinker Bell movie (yes Lynne, Every. Tinker. Bell. Movie.), we've built castles for all the My Little Ponies we own, we've danced to Everything is Awesome a million times, and we've taken walks around town. Connor started his own camp named quote appropriately Connor's Camp in the living room, we had a cook out at his camp, he and Sophia created a bug resort in the backyard that includes an island for roly polies. They even created a restaurant for the bugs called Ant Restaurant ...because...well...as Sophie explained "it's called Ant Restaurant because the ants aren't allowed to eat there." And, the kids determined that our entire living room floor is covered in lava (but only at bedtime) so they all need piggy back rides up to bed so their feet don't get burned.

The most surprising thing that has happened this week: I'm not totally behind on laundry or dishes. In fact, I'm maybe even doing better than an average week here.

 I have it on good authority that this is the only water park designed for bugs in the world. 

 Connor hanging out at Connor's Camp

Warming their hands over the fire. 

But...shouldn't we walk?

I don't like corn dogs. And....since I buy the groceries around here you can guess how often we have them. Yep...almost never. This means that my poor deprived children have corn dogs so infrequently, the youngest ones don't even know what they are.

At the end of her preschool year Sophia received a coupon for a free corn dog from Sonic. She was beyond excited about this and frequently asked me when it was going to be time to go get her corn dog. Yesterday, Sonic had them for $0.50 for National End of School Day or something like that. I figured that it was the perfect time to cash in and get everyone (except me) a corn dog for lunch.

I told Sophie that it was time to go get her corn dog and she was jumping up and down. It kind of made me feel guilty about the fact that I never give these kids corn dogs. Connor was excited, Sophie was jumping up and down, even Elinor had figured out that something amazing must be about to happen.

I told the kids to go get in the van so we could go pick them up. Then this happened:

Sophie: "The van? Shouldn't we walk?"
Me: "Oh...I don't think we want to walk all the way down to Sonic. We can drive."
Sophie: "But, how are we going to bring the corn dog home if we take the van? We should walk."
Me: "Can't we just drive it back in the van?"
Sophie: "I don't think so. I think we should walk."
Me: "What exactly do you think a corn dog is?"
Sophie: "You know....like a puppy."

She was only completely heartbroken when I explained to her that a corn dog was not in fact an actual dog, but was something you eat.

Her heartbreak only lasted until she actually got to eat her corn dog, which she of course loved. They all loved them.

In case you were wondering, I'm also depriving my children of the following things that I don't like to eat.

Pigs in a blanket.
Fish sticks
All other kinds of fish
All seafood
Everything else that is gross

Sometimes you remember to take the Easter pictures...

...and sometimes you don't until later. Which actually means that you can get some pretty funny pictures.

 Such as Sophie in the midst of her I just found an egg party dance. 

 Or the really awesome outfit that Connor picked out by himself. 

 Ellie Bells putting her eggs into her...erhm...basket, or the bag you found to replace her missing Easter bucket. 

Really, considering that I had been up since about 4:45 am with Connor, then helping at the Easter breakfast all morning, and then having a delicious lunch after church, it's kind of amazing that I still remembered to take any pictures at all.

Although I definitely remembered to pull my camera out to get this one. 

I didn't remember to get any of Violet. Well...better luck next year Vi.

And, I did remember to take one last week when we had a few less things on our plate.

This doesn't seem good, but it is.

Connor was a very vocal child. By the time he was two, there wasn't much he couldn't say. He also already had a very keen sense of how he thought the world should work and didn't like it when the world decided to operate in a way contrary to his personal views on the subject.

We were near the end of a our Tenebrae Service on Good Friday and our Pastors began to strip the altar. You might be thinking...um...strip the what now? It is the point in the service where the pastor removes all the paraments (that fancy fabric that adorns the atlar), the flowers, the crosses, the Bible...anything on the altar. 

So, the church is silent, and the pastors begin to remove everything from the altar. No singing, no background organ music...dead silence as the altar is stripped bare. And, Connor starts to freak out. I'll never forget the stricken look on his face as he realized what was happening and then my very vocal two year old starts saying "Oh no, oh no. They shouldn't be doing that. This isn't good. This isn't good."

Every Tenebrae service, Connor has been captivated by the stripping of the altar. He doesn't freak out anymore, but he notices it. He notices the quiet sadness, the lack of colorful adornment, the fact that it feels anything but good. As the altar is stripped bare on Friday it feels like all hope is lost. Our God has died. All the promises made seem to have been broken. It seems like Satan has won the day. "This isn't good."

In our baptism, we too are stripped clean of our trappings, but our trappings were nothing so nice as the paraments on the altar. Instead we were covered in sin and death. These coverings were stripped away, destroyed, killed, forgotten. They have been replaced with white. The white purity of Christ. He has made us pure and holy. He has covered us in His own righteousness and this..this is good indeed. 

And so, even though I want to be really sad on Good Friday, I can never quite do it. Because I know. I know that Easter happened. I know that Jesus didn't stay dead. He rose again. He overcame death, ransomed us from our enemy, the devil, and gave us new lie in our baptism. And, I know what Sunday morning will bring. The brilliant white paraments, the lilies, the joyous chorus of He is Risen, He is Risen, Indeed. Hallelujah. 

Better than Funnel Cake

Connor is forever reading and he likes all kinds of books. Recently, we found a book at the thrift store about the Navajo Indians. In the book, was a recipe for Navajo flat bread and Connor thought we should definitely try it out. We did and it was delicious. Better than funnel cake even....or at least better in my book. It was less doughy and therefore, more delicious.

You can find all sorts of recipes for Navajo flat bread (or sometimes called fry bread) all over the internet. I like to use this one from the Pioneer Woman as my starting point. I like it so much I even put it in my personal cook book.   

Don't be jealous of my cookbook naming prowess. The kids helped me. 

Connor liked the flat bread so much that he decided to take it to Scouts the next time he had snacks...which just happens to be tonight. He thought it would be a good way for them to learn about another culture and also get to eat something besides cookies. Not that these have more nutritional value than cookies...I'm not making that claim. Well...they might be before we add the toppings. 

There aren't too many ingredients required - flour, salt, baking powder, milk, and water. That's it. Seriously. Super easy and stuff we always have on hand. Mix the dry ingredients than add the wet ones in a little at a time. Start with the milk and then add enough water that a dough forms. The recipe suggests 1/2 cup. I needed quite a bit more than that. 

Mix with a fork...or your hands until a nice dough forms. Then put a towel over the bowl and sit it aside for a half hour or forty five minutes. Just enough time to do some cleaning or, may I suggest sneaking a television show whose target audience is above the age of eight while the kids are napping. 

After you watch those one or two television shows, melt some shortening or heat up some oil in a skillet. You are going to need at least a few inches worth in there. The Pioneer Woman suggested that shortening seems to work better - it seemed to work about the same as oil for me.

I usually make them a bit bigger, but since they are for a snack for the boys, I decided to make them smaller. I just flattened these out by hand. If you pick the dough up and slowly turn it while hanging on to one side, it will stretch out by its own weight. It's kind of like how you would stretch pizza dough out if you have ever done that. If not...well...just look it up on YouTube. 

Once your oil is nice and sizzling hot, you can put them in to cook. Usually less than a minute a side is all that is needed for them to be nice and golden brown. I don't recommend doing three at a time - two seems just about right or one if you are doing larger rounds. 

When they are done you put them on a paper towel to cool and top with whatever you want. The possibilities are endless here. I highly recommend powdered sugar, but since I mostly like the other Scout's moms and they wear those cute dark blue shirts, I did cinnamon and sugar on these. Honey is great. You can even fold them in half and put some taco meat, cheese, and lettuce in there. Yum-o. 

 

I decided that this was probably about enough for the boys, and that meant I had enough dough left over to make a few big ones for the family. If you roll them really flat and poke some wholes in them, they will even puff up a bit inside - which the kids seem to think is awesome. A little hand roller works great. 

You can do bigger circles that way which makes it easier to fold in half for tacos or just means that you have more delicious bread to eat later. 

And yeah....I totally went back and ate the other half later. 

As a bonus, because of the ease of the recipe and depending on how much you like to have little helper hands in the kitchen, this is a great recipe for the kids to do with you (except for the frying in hot oil part - although, at eight, Connor seems to be able to help with that part too). 

Now go fry up some bread and eat it. You won't be sorry you did. And the next time the carnival comes around you can turn your nose up at that $5 funnel cake because you've got something even yummier to make at home. 

Day at Deanna Rose

This morning we took the kids to the Deanna Rose Farmstead in Overland Park.

If you live near the Kansas City area and haven't taken your kids there, you totally should. Most weekdays it is free, but today we had to pay a whopping $10 for admission. Not too shabby, as far as what it normally costs us to do something with all the kids.

The kids had a blast, and after the first hour or so, it started to warm up. It made for a great day.

 I love a windmill...I just do.

 Cowgirl Ellie

 Sophie loved petting the cows.

 Connor enjoyed taking the dairy trivia challenge. FYI - did you know that 90% of women don't get enough calcium? Connor does now.

 Posing with a baby buffalo (or bison for my Northern friends) statue.

 I told them to pretend like they like each other. 

 Feeding baby goats. 

 Trying to pet the goat. 

 Pony rides. 

 After watching this for about 45 minutes, Connor decided he would now like to be a blacksmith when he grows up. 

My little butterfly

Visiting the chickens.