Decision Time

Dear Shirt,

You were the perfect price on that clearance rack. You were just the right shade of green. You were the right tunic length with the cute three-quarter sleeves, and the tiny buttons up the front that just set you off so nicely.

Then, there was the delicate little draw-string belt. So thin. So discreet. So very current. You know, I had a moment when I bought you when I thought, "Hm. I sure hope that this is at the right spot that accents the fact that I do, actually, have a waist, rather than making me look pregnant."

But, no. How could you, perfect little light-weight spring shirt that would look so cute with my black capris, ever do anything so vile as make me look pregnant when I'm not (really, really not).

However, today, just now, the door bell rang, with me being held in your embrace, and there stood my neighbour with a few questions and a bit of small talk. We laughed, we discussed, and we decided. All the while, there was a look. A downward, glancing look. A suspiciously questioning look. An unspoken wondering look.

You, my dear shirt, are outta here. You need to know that the next time that the charity clothing people have a pickup in our area, and you hear the doorbell ring, I assure you, you will not need to ask for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Sincerely,
Me.

Heart of the Matter Online

It is Heart of the Matter time again. Please follow this link to read my latest article, which is actually part one of a series of four.

Heard At My House - The Birds and the Bees Edition

The sticky subject of when to have "the talk" with our kids has always plagued my mind like a, well, like a plague. Every so often a question will come up and I'll think, "Here we go: Today is the day." Except Chris and my philosophy is only answer the question actually asked, and only give as much information as is necessary to satisfy their momentary curiousity. Thus, the following dialogue between my 4 year old daughter and myself.


Miss T: "Mommy, are we made out of potatoes?"

Me: "Sorry. What?"

Miss T: "Are we made from potatoes?"

Me: "Uh. No."

Miss T: "Are we made from dirt?"

Me: "Well, God made Adam from the dust of the ground, so he was made from dirt and then Eve was made from his rib and was fashioned around it. Remember us talking about that?"

Miss T: "Yes. So are we made from ribs?"

Me: "No. Once there was Adam and Eve, God made all the rest of the people from a Mommy and a Daddy." (*insert nervous breathing wondering how much farther I'll need to go.*) "Then a baby grows in the Mommy's belly and it comes out a cute little baby."

Miss T: "And then it learns to walk and get big, right?"

Me: "Right"

Miss T: "Okay. So we aren't from potatoes."

Me: "Right."

Miss T: "Thanks, Mommy. Good night."

And thus ends another painless conversation. Who can understand the workings of a 4 year old mind?

Thinking Back to the Most Beautiful Blizzard.

Today my baby turns two. It has made me flashback to the details of his birth and the lessons the Lord taught me at that time. I realize that reading birth stories is not everyone's cup of tea, so feel free to skip this link if you want to. Maybe reading someone's birth story would be highly unhelpful and hurtful to you today, and I don't mean to stir up any painful memories for anyone. However, Zachary's birth stirred up a lot of ugliness in my heart too, at the time, and I am grateful today for the reminder of what the Lord showed me through the details of Zach's arrival, and all that led up to it.

So if you are interested, please join me in reliving this day in history.

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

I have in the last week been told to listen to this song 3 times. How I have missed it I don't know! Actually, yes I do. My radio reception in the house is lousy and in the car I have been obsessively listening to my Christmas Eve Choir Practice CD. Haven't really heard a lot of radio Christmas tunes this year yet.

And so I have missed this stellar song. I know, I know. There are some songs that you hear at Christmas that are pretty kitchy, and maybe you find them corny. Oh I really really hope that this song doesn't become one of those. I still get choked up every time I hear "Mary, Did You Know?" when he says "When you kiss your little baby, you kiss the face of God"....doesn't matter how many times I hear it in any given December. It messes me up in the middle of [insert name of crazy busy store full of last minute shoppers] every time.

This song might be like that too. I really like Faith Hill. The little bit of celebrity gossip I've heard about her (not that I listen to gossip *ahem*) has been pretty impressive, actually, and she has a gorgeous voice. When it first started, and tonight was my first listen to it, I thought, "yup. This is pretty." But she had me struggling to swallow by the end of the video. That lump in my throat...I'd better see someone about it. The last few lines will be my undoing....every time. This song is a keeper, and a fabulous addition to our Wow-ful Women Wednesday Christmas Countdown.

I Could Have Been Rich!

Who knew that it was so easy to make a pile of cash? And I mean a fairly decent pile of cash. Look at these financial incentives that are being offered to kids today.

If you can stay in school, smoke free, you can earn $5K. That's $5,000. Seriously? Wow. I could handle that. I never smoked in high school. I could have had $5 Easy Grand. Sweet. Direct from the link above, this is how the program works:

In order to be eligible for a financial REWARD each youth must:

1) Stay Smoke Free

2) Graduate High School

3) Sign up sponsors who will commit to donating about $25 a month to the REWARDS Foundation.

If you are a youth and you want a chance to earn some money towards college, university then sign up and put in the effort of finding sponsors. The world is a competitive place. We give you the tools, and you put them to work. This is the first lesson in how to create a successful life.

Oh, so the money doesn't grow off trees. I have to find sponsors who will pay $25 a month to the program to pay me not to do something I should be smart enough not to do anyway, especially since purchasing cigarettes at a high school age is ILLEGAL. Getting paid to not break the law. Nice. I can do that.

Then there is this option: Money for Nothing

The article sites that there are school boards who pay students more than minimum wage to attend "Learn and Earn" Workshops after school (formerly called "detention"? or "Extra Credit"?) and that other school boards were handing out $100 or Flat Screen TV's for passing grades. Let me tell you, outside of OAC Algebra and OAC Calculus, I was a straight A student. I even rocked Phys. Ed because I could write a wicked awesome test which balanced out the fact that I couldn't dribble worth nothin' (unless you are talking about trying to drink out of a pop can while walking. I ace *that* kind of dribbling to this day).

And finally, one more Take the Money and Run option for students: Just Don't Do It

This program pays girls ages 12-18 $1 a day to, wait for it, not get pregnant. Say what? So abstinence teaching is a bad thing, but paying them a dollar to be "smart" about their, um... "extracurricular activites" is a good thing? Some girls have earned $2000. Really? Wow.

Okay so clearly these days I would not be making much cashola on this program. In fact in the last 10 years I'd have only made $1690 out of a possible $3650. Man. Talk about sacrifice. But in High school, between these 3 programs I could have walked away with enough to pay for my full 4 year degree. Sweet. Forget getting a job and being taught financial responsibility and a good work ethic and some measure of moral standard. Let's just bribe kids to good behaviour with some serious coin. (and yes, this may slightly strengthen my determination to continue homeschooling)

As a wise sage once sang "I got change in my pocket goin' jing-a-ling-a-ling". Maybe if I had have been born later in human history I could have had some stocks and bonds instead.

Heard At My House

9 year old daughter: Okay Mom, just tell us the truth. Are you pregnant?

Me: (having a little trouble breathing suddenly) Um....No. Truthfully, really, not.

9 yo: Well, the baby is 1 now and usually around now you are announcing things.

Me: (feeling a bit lightheaded suddenly) Um....Nope. Really not.

5 Year old son: Really? Because you are a little fat.



excellent.

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

Now this week it will seem like I've broken my own rules about Wow-ful Women by posting a video of a mixed-gender trio. However, this is just to prove that I'm not bound by the law. :-)

So this is The Martins, a brother and sisters group who I adore. I've seen them in concert and have some of their CD's (except for their Acappella hymns Cd...my birthday is in November. Just sayin'.)

If you don't know anything about them, let me give you the highlights: they learned harmony by singing hymns with their mom, so really their mom fits the Wow-ful Women part of this too. At the concert I attended the sister wearing a red dress in this video (that's Judy) spoke of a battle with depression she once had which of course endears her to me. She is an entirely gifted Wow-ful Woman in her own right, although this video doesn't highlight that. I actually would love to exude the peacefulness and gentleness and lady-likeness that she does. Her voice and harmonies are exceedingly beilliant to me.

Anyhow, this video highlights Joyce, the older sister. And while I am seriously not as Wow-ful as she is in most ways, there is one area that will become instantly, visually obvious to those of you who know me in which I am just that Wow-ful. Perhaps even more so....leave a comment (even snarkily if you like!) if you see what I mean. Enjoy!




And since there are three people to listen to, I figure I should post at least 2 videos! This kind of singin' is what really gets me fired up. I.want.to.do.this.

Little Miss Happy Dance

This is so vain. Brace yourself for a seriously useless post.

I have lost 2 pounds.

(Cue trumpet fanfare.)

Yes I know that weight is not the be all end all. Yes I know that I can be fat and happy or skinny and grumpy. Good. Thanks for reminding me. Still...

I am a wee bit tired of people saying "You look so good for having 7 kids" (read: compared to all the women who get outrageously fat after having several children you don't look so bad). And I'm a wee bit tired of people giving me hand me downs of their "fat clothes"....where's the Love? If you are going to give them to me, for goodness sake don't TELL me they are your fat clothes (yikes).

So I'm working on it. I've been doing the Lord's Table and really don't use me as the poster child or measuring stick of the success of the study. Really. When I say "I'm doing the study" what I mean is "I'm answering the questions on line" but beyond that I'm not so much gettin' it.

What I'm most thankful for is the kick in the pants that Matt and Kate gave Chris and I on Sunday. They had us for lunch with their remarkably beautifully family (who deserve a post of their own) and served us "Food by God" as they called it. This is how we used to eat: real food, not processed junkola. Salads, veggies, cheeses, olives, nuts, seeds, yum yum yum yum yum. Colours like the rainbow, textures like....okay help me out with that one, fresh and lightly dressed with the most scrumptious of vinagrettes....mmmmmmmm.

We used to always eat with our plate full of veggies except for a small portion of protein and/or starch. Over the last few years that portion of starch and/or protein (usually in the form of beans/legumes around here) has been increasing .... and what do you know, so has our waist lines!

Most likely it has not been what I've been eating but how much, or in what proportion. So we are back at it. Not mental legalistic like we used to where I'd feel guilty for wanting and eating Taco Bell, but just smarter about what my body actually will enjoy and use the best.

So wouldn't it be nice if I could shed these 30-40 pounds by Christmas (40 might actually be ridiculous, we'll see) and get back to pre-baby Barbie like I once was?

That was fun to say: Pre-baby Barbie. Say it a few times today. It will make you smile :-)

Heard At My House

Setting: Delighful suppertime complete with delectable garlic cheese pull apart buns. 8 yo 2nd born daughter holding said bun and poking its soft, white goodness.

8yo J: Hey, this bun feels like mom's belly did when she was pregnant.

Awkward pause, lots of laughing, me wishing somehow she was not being accurate.

8yo J: Um. I guess maybe I should have said that in my head.

The Rest Of the Story

February 6th, 2008 was a Wednesday. Not just any Wednesday: Ash Wednesday. Did you know that Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent? And that the focus of Ash Wednesday is repentance? Well, repentance has a lot to do with what happened around here on February 6th 2008.

Over the last 9 years and 6 pregnancies I've grown accustomed to midwifery care and homebirths, no unnecessary interventions or tests, no pain medication, no condescending tones or questionning looks. This 7th pregnancy began much the same.

Then came week 30. I measured as if it were week 33. I laughed "Well I did just spend a few days at my mom's house and boy can she cook!" The midwives didn't laugh. They gave me until the next visit. However at week 32 I was measuring as if it were week 37 and so began the most frustrating and faith testing few weeks for me. And to let you know a bit of the end before we get there, I was very much failing the testing of my faith. More on that soon.

The midwives are required to send "large measuring women" to consult with an OB. This in itself made me cry. I don't want an OB. But then foolish me to ask, "What is wrong with measuring big? Could it just be the way I am carrying? (and the fact that I'm 30 pounds over weight?)"...Maybe....or it could be too much amniotic fluid, or too large of a baby, or gestational diabetes, or some kind of genetic disorder.....

more crying on my part. This is getting hard. I don't do hard. I only do easy. I'm lazy and phlegmatic and this feels like too much.

So to make this long story slightly shorter, I submit to all kinds of tests that I would normally, politely, decline. All tests show normal results. I do not have too much fluid. I do not have diabetes. My baby does not have some malformation or genetic disorder. He/She may be large....Maybe quite large. And as the OB likes to remind me multiple times each visit "You are Grand Multiparas" (which by the way just means I've had more than 4 children). This combined with the "large baby" concern is leading him to believe that if I have a homebirth I am bound to hemmorage and bleed out on my bedroom floor. Therefore he decides for me that I must have a hospital birth governed by an OB, not a midwife although he will allow them to come for moral support, with blood transfusion ready, IV in....waiting for me to bleed to death.

Ah yes. Now there is a relaxing thought as I approach my last few weeks of pregnancy. So like I said, my faith was being tested. My ability to trust in the Lord's Loving Sovereignty was being tested and I was failing miserably. That's where I was at when I wrote earlier. I just felt like everything was out of my control (and it was) and that somehow even the OB had taken things out of God's control. Maybe God meant this to go easy like the other 6 but the Dr. had thwarted His plans.

I kept hearing "Rest....rest.....rest....be still and Know that I am God" and I would say "okay...You are God" and then I'd start freaking out again.

Wow, this shorter version of the long story is still quite long. Sorry about that.

So fast forward to Monday Feb. 4. Remember? I went to hospital thinking I was in labour? After that I was definitely discouraged. Now I was second guessing even my ability to know if I was in labour or not.

Tuesday I spent grumping. And making lasagna and soup for my freezer should this baby ever decide to come.

And then came Wednesday. I told my husband to go to work. You know what they say about a watched pot.....it never goes into labour...or something like that. That's when I noticed that along with these really random, sporadic, inconsistent, yet pretty strong contractions, that it was Ash Wednesday. Of course the kids ask what that means and I have to confess I really don't know except that the Catholic school makes the kids put ashes on their heads in the shape of the cross....I think.

Thanks to Google I see that it is all about repentance, and that Psalm 51 is the reading of choice at most churches. I am cut to the quick and find myself in tears again. But now they aren't angry, fearful tears, they are tears now of repentance and sorrow for my lack of faith and horrible witness both to the midwives and my own children. I spend some time getting right with the Lord and asking Him to forgive me for not believing that He would, and could, do as He wills no matter who is in charge of my file. And for thinking He wasn't loving me by doing something different than what I wanted.

I finally call the midwives and am overjoyed to find that my favourite midwife is back from vacation (a day early by my count) and ask her what she thinks I should do. The contractions have been coming all day, but never in a rhythm that I could call consistent (every 13 minutes, then every 8, then every 4, then every 17....not helpful). She says I don't sound "urgent" and that she'll check me on her way home. I do.not. want to go to hospital early again just to be sent home.

5pm comes and the midwife pops in. I say hi come on in. She checks me. She says "You are 5cm. We need to go now if we are going to go". I say "Sure, my bag is packed, let me call the sitter"....She stops me and says "I'm not sure we have time to get there. Have you seen the weather?" And for the first time I notice that in the last 30 minutes we have been caught in a very bad snow storm....icy roads, poor to no visibility and every thing. Oh. Okay.

But I always take 7 hours or so from this point right? Not this time, she says. She calls Labour and Delivery at the hospital to tell them we are coming while I call my mom and dad to come, and the friend across the street to come in the meantime (my folks live almost an hour away and in this weather?....well the lady across the street would cover the 'inbetween' time.) When I come upstairs to tell the midwife that we are all set, she shakes her head and says "They told us not to come the roads are so bad. They agree that a home birth is safer than a 'on the side of the road in the back seat during a snow storm" birth."

I have to smile. Really? Since when do hospitals say "don't come"? So we page the OB to let him know what is going on and to 'get his permission' (I'm not sure if that's the right term but I hope you get my point). After going over all his concerns with the midwife (no antibiotics on hand, no blood, does she know how to stop me from hemmoraging.....whatever) he gives his okay and asks that we page him again to let him know when baby comes that all is okay.

Well, less than 4 hours later little Zachary arrived, easily, beautifully, quickly, nearly painlessly (I'm not even kidding) healthfully, hungrily, handsomely, peeingly, wonderfully......

And I cried again. Usually I laugh when I hold the baby for the first time. This time I cried. Still ashamed at how I had treated the Lord for the last 6 weeks. Sad for how I had to learn the lesson this way rather than trusting him the whole time. I cried with gratitude and humility and sorrow for my sin and relief and awe at His forgiveness. Shocked that we got 'everything we wanted'. The midwives say "Smart baby. He knew he didn't want to be born in a hospital. He waited for the storm." I thought "Merciful gracious Lord to give us this good gift even after I'd been such a faithless pill."

Zachary means "the Lord remembers"..... He remembers His plans, His purposes, His ways. He remembers my desires, my frailties, my weaknesses, my character. He remembers what is best for me and what will glorify Him.

If only I will learn to remember those things too.

He doesn't always work things out just as we want, and that is not what I gleaned from this experience. I learned (again) to surrender to Him, to watch for how He is working, to trust that He is always on His throne, never sleeping, never caught off guard, always proactive never reactive, always doing what He wants......

This is my Father's world. O let me ne'er forget that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet. This is my Father's world: why should my heart be sad? The Lord is King; let the heavens ring! God reigns; let the earth be glad!

And now you know the rest of the story.

My Ash Wednesday Gift

Born Wednesday, February 6th at 8:58pm
A Second boy! 9lbs 8oz and perfectly healthy. Details and Birth story to follow.

I'll Do Anything For A Date Night With My Husband

You know you want it. A night away with no kids. A chance to have nothing else to do but stare at each other and whisper sweet nothings. Cranberry juice flowing freely, and breakfast served to you in the morning.....

yup. That's what I'm talking about. My parents had 4 of the kids at our house. Chris' parents had 2 at their house, and Chris and I had a night we'd never forget.....

Did I mention that it was in the hospital where I thought I was going into labour only to find out that once I got there everything slowed down?


Nice.


So yes, we spent Monday night "away together", me sort of sleeping on the hospital bed, and him sort of sleeping on a recliner. Most excellent. They let us go home in the morning, for which I was grateful. I did not want them thinking they should induce me or anything. And that is when we had breakfast served to us at our favourite breakfast restaurant. The wonderful husband knew the discouraged wife could use some toast and peameal bacon and a good cup of tea to help her cheer up.

Now today contractions are picking up again, and so with great reservation I am wondering "is *this* the day?".....sigh. This is very different from previous babies. I always knew by how things started and progressed that "it was the day". After our little false alarm on Monday I'm a wee gun shy to say "for sure, this is it".

And of course along with that thought comes the conflicting emotions of joy, fear, exhaustion, exhilaration, pain, relief.... Do I remember how to do this? Will it all go okay? Is there some way I can just fast forward to the part where I hear that wee baby cry and hold him/her for the first time? (I mean is there a way to skip it without having a ton of drugs pumped into me?)

And so we wait....and wonder....and dream....I'll try to post an update here at some point, but don't expect it too soon. I'm not that much of a keener.

Thanks for your prayers!

It Should Be Raining Today

The sun is too happy and positive and optimistic to reflect my internal dialogue today.

Sure it is brutally cold and that certainly reflects my heart.

But that persistent sun is just too....perky.....too "everything is great"....

I'm not relating real well to that.

I know everything *is* fine. I know the Lord is in control, and I suppose the sun shining so briliiantly should remind me of that.

But for my 2 cents, it feels like a great big, black cloud, raining day. Not the "let's go for a walk in the drizzle and pretend we're in England" kind of rain either. The thundering, quick run to the car before you get drenched, I hope the stems don't snap on my tulips, can the drains in the street handle all this water kind of rain.

Of course I am lucid enough to realize that I am being entirely self-centred and that is why I am feeling so entirely flattened today. Not being in control of things, especially highly emotionally driven, dear to your heart things, often makes one cranky.

But I shouldn't be cranky. The One who is making that sun shine incessantly is also the one in control of this thing that I am holding on to for dear life. He is the same One who told Abraham "Take your son, your only son, the son that you love, and sacrifice him to me." He is saying the same thing to me. Except Abraham rose up and right away took that son and was ready to do the unthinkable. My precious thing to which I'm clinging is so small comparitively, and here I am wanting to see the ram in the thicket before I say "yes, Lord. You can have this."

I know all the right answers to all the questions I'm having, and yet the questions don't seem to really make any more sense, and the answers aren't giving a whole lot of comfort.

To say I'm over reacting would be an understatement. I get that. And so I need to remember something else the Creator and Director of that Sun said "Be still, cease striving, and know that I AM God."

I'm sorry Lord for this doubt and turmoil in my heart. It is not glorifying to you. I"m sorry for not just watching and waiting to see your will in this. I do believe. Help my unbelief.

A Sunday Surprise (or how the smallest thing made the biggest difference)

Several of you reading this wee blog are aware of my baby dilemma (to conceive or not to conceive, that is the question? Whether tis nobler to have a 7th baby....okay I'll stop).



So yesterday I go to church. Very good. I'm doing okay. Haven't bawled like a toddler with his finger pinched in the door way for several weeks now. I walk in to the sanctuary and there is the young married couple that used to be kids in my husband and my Youth group when we led it a million years ago, and lo and behold, there is their week old baby girl in the carseat in front of them.



And here comes the lump in the throat.



You need to know that I just had been at a baby shower maybe 14 hours earlier with little impact on my emotions. But now this wee baby girl and her lovely young parents. I squated down beside her (which was a feat in itself) and placed my hand on her belly. Her entire torso disappeared in my grasp. She apparently is under 6 pounds right now. Just the size my 2nd was at birth...



I looked up at her parents and said, "Oh my word. I'm going to cry." At which point the father puts his arm around my shoulders and gives me a little squeeze and a little rub (for goodness sake's will someone tell the world that touching a woman who is about to cry only makes the tears come faster?) The thought of these two young people who I watched grow up, now married, now with a baby, really trying to follow hard after the Lord....it was all too much.



And so I felt my heart well up with blessings for this baby and for this new momma and papa. What a wonderful path they are beginning down! Do they know what they are in for? How far are they willing to go down the path of self-sacrifice? Are they prepared for the joy and pain being parents is going to bring them?



And then I couldn't stop crying. The whole service was a battle to regain my composure. In my head my life long battle raised up again: Do I want another baby? What if I can't conceive again because of the complications after baby 6? Will I be devastated? Will I be relieved? If I have one more, does that mean I'll end up with 12? Am I willing to go through this again? Am I willing not to? How much does God require? What does "be fruitful and multiply" really mean? How far does a girl have to go?......





And on, and on and on andonandonandon.......





Congratulations Kate and Chris. She is beautiful. I just never expected such wee girl to have such an impact for the Kingdom already.

My Kids

I asked my girls what I should write about today and one of them said "Write about how we are the best kids in the world."

Well that's easy enough.

Except maybe I'll digress a little from that original point. I really do have pretty amazing kids. I love being at home and being a busy mom. I love homeschooling them. It was an easy choice to have 6 kids close together because they've all been such a delight. I also felt it was very much what God would have us do as a family. What has not been so easy has been to understand what comes next for our family.

My husband and I had very strong feelings about what God had called us to do in terms of having babies at one point. Now that seems a little less clear. Could it really be that God has changed our hearts because His path for us now is changing? Or am I succumbing to the selfish desires of my heart?

When am I allowed to make 'my own decision' and when do I need an obvious Word from the Lord? When we had chosen to trust God entirely for our family size we were in a much more difficult place financially than we are now, and yet we felt the conviction in our heart and had the faith to wait on Him to provide for all our needs in various ways. Now I know that is still true: the Lord will give me the physical strength and emotional energy to keep up with the work; however, I don't feel the same moral imperative (to have more babies) in my heart that I used to.

When is a girl allowed to say, "I'm done...I think"? We have no desire at this point to be "final" about it, but to what extent am I "allowed" to give myself a break? (can you read my guilt gland acting up between the lines?)

I know if the Lord gave us 6 more children right now that I would be as ga-ga over them as I am over the first 6. I also know that He would provide for us as completely as He has up to this point. But does that mean I have to keep going until menopause kicks in? (okay, slight exaggeration. I can hear my parents and in-laws shaking their heads as they read this).

I've always believed that glorifying God with my children had little to do with how many I had, and much to do with how I raised them. So maybe 6 is enough. Maybe He has more for us. For now I am content to think that our family is full until the Lord changes my heart.
Still, I do find myself wondering if I am walking in the Lord's blessing by saying that, or if I am saying no to the blessings He is holding out to me.