life of seven

Encouragement for weary moms

Do you need any of that today? If there's one thing I find myself needing to get through the day in and day out, it's that.

Here are some scriptures I have been thinking about recently: "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me," from Psalm 23, or Isaiah 43:2, "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." Romans 8:35 "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?"

The connection I'm seeing with all these verses is that in the midst of our trial and tribulations and fears and difficulties, God is always there. He never leaves us. He doesn't always take our trials away. We still have to live our lives and face the struggles that come with it. But in the midst of it all, He tells us, "I see you."

Recently I was praying and I felt God's presence come so near to me. I had been going through what had felt like a dry spell, where prayer and Bible reading didn't feel like they were as full of life as they had been in the past. While worshipping God, as tears streamed down my cheeks, I told Him a bit desperately, "Don't leave me alone again after this. Please don't ever leave me!"

Instantly these words poured into my heart, "I will never leave you, or forsake you."

"When the poor and needy seek water and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them." (Isaiah 41:17)

"For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from Thee." (Isaiah 54:10)

"Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." (Matthew 28:20)

It's hard to put these things into words. But it means SO MUCH to realize that even while we are going through hardships, even when we go through dry spells, even when God feels far off, that He is always there, that He is our help. Because, honestly, if you asked any mom for the number one thing she needed, wouldn't she say, "I just need some HELP around here!"

It's not like the bills and dirty dishes and mess are going to miraculously go away just because I know God is with me. But that's not the kind of help I need, or want. (Sure, I will never turn that kind of help down!) What I need is to know that I have God with me. That He sees my struggles. That my life matters to Him. That He loves me. That He wants me to succeed at the job He's given me. That He'll give me wisdom in those thousand decisions a day that I'm faced with. That I need to keep running my race to the finish line, and He can't run the race for me, but can give me the endurance I need to finish strong.

"Hast thou not known? Hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary?" (Isaiah 40:28) Oh, thank the Lord for that. If there's anything my weary bones need, it is an everlasting God who never grows weary.

"He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength." (v. 29) That verse seems to hold an especially powerful meaning and beauty to a mom.Think about it. Power to the faint. Strength to the weak.

"Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall." (I think this verse is saying, "Don't worry, Mama, even that relentlessly fussy baby; and crazy, bouncing, energetic toddler; and wild and dangerous six year old boy are eventually going to need rest and will, though it may seem otherwise, eventually fall asleep. Fear not!")

"But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint." (v 30, 31)

So don't faint. Don't grow weary. Don't quit. God the Helper, God the Provider, God our strength will never leave us. He will never forsake us. We can do this thing.

 

18

We had such a wonderful time celebrating Cate's 18th birthday with family and friends. A friend suggested making the party a fancy dress up one, with live background music (plenty of willing participants for that around here!) and I knew that would be perfect. We bought plenty of bouquets and spread them through the house, lit candles, and asked people to bring fancy appetizers. But, the funnest part of the night was the live entertainment portion, where everyone was treated to a cello solo, a euphonium/piano duet, and several performances of Cate's favorite songs. So, lots of Hamilton, La La Land, and The Greatest Showman was heard. It was so much fun and made the night feel really special, which is what I wanted. I wanted my girl, who is so grown up now, to have a grown up party and feel as loved and special as she deserves. Which is a lot. I know it was a memorable evening for her, one she won't forget. I'm sure, if I continue blogging frequently, I will write more thoughts on what it is like to have my children transition from kids to adults. For now, I will say, that it is magical. It's amazing. I'm so proud of them I could just burst. I miss newborns, and toddlers, of course, but having grown-up Cate in my life a close friend, and watching her set goals and achieve them, is indescribable. The whole parenting package is absolutely miraculous as I've seen it unfold for 18 years now. So many unexpected delights and fun and laughter, and, now, as my kids are getting older, the discovery that I have made friends for life. 

Mr. Knightly

***Finds blog site, checks login info, dusts off keyboard, wiggles fingers in anticipation*** 

My husband paid me what I took as a compliment the other day, though it perhaps wasn't intended as such. "Your worst failing in life," he began.

"Oh, no Ben," I groaned. "Do we have to have this conversation?" anticipating what was to come. One thing you need to know about Ben. His Jane Austen doppleganger, in personality, at any rate, would be Mr. Knightly.

Have you ever looked for your, and your friends' and families' literary dopplegangers? Those characters in literature that you recognize immediately because they are so much like you, or remind you exactly of another person? It is great fun. One of mine is the rather obscure Katherine Krupnik, the absentminded, artistic, excellent cook if she remembers to plan dinner, schedule-phobic, family-adoring mother of Anastasia Krupnik. Yep. Pretty much describes me to a T. But back to what I was saying.

You would think it would be wonderful to be married to Mr. Knightly. Actually, it is. Mr. Knightly, undoubtedly, would be my pick over, say, Mr. Darcy, or Mr. Bingley, Colonel Brandon, Mr Ferrars, or, borrowing from the Hunger Games, Gale, or Peeta (no contest there- who even invited those two schmucks into the competition???). Now, when you bring up Gilbert Blythe, the competition gets a bit tougher, but in general, I can say wholeheartedly that Mr. Knightly from Emma is one of my favorite literary male characters. So, it is lucky I married my own Mr. Knightly.

But here's the thing with Mr Knightly: the "Badly done, Emma! Badly done!" scene. Emma deserved that, and knows she deserved it. See, Mr. Knightly is not afraid to speak his mind when he thinks something should be corrected or rectified. And, so, being married to Mr.Knightly's doppelganger, perhaps you can imagine, has its own set of peculiar challenges. Ben and I devote time, lots and lots and lots of time, evaluating ourselves, our marriage, our family, and our lives, to discuss what's working, and what's not, what could be improved, and so on. Because of this, I have him to thank for helping me come up with systems to make our house run smoothly, homeschooling plans where everyone knows what is supposed to happen each day, meals that get on the table most evenings (even though I can space out about that at times: "Dinner? We need to eat dinner again tonight? But I made dinner last night! Do we really need to eat again so soon?" Told you I was like Katherine Krupnik! Thanks to Ben's help with coming up with a plan, that rarely happens anymore), a house that gets cleaned three times a day, time for me to spend with God each morning.

All these things have bettered our lives, even though they have been challenging to implement at first. That's the thing, us creative types don't realize at first that a clean workspace and environment actually encourages creativity, not inhibits it. While a detailed daily schedule really doesn't fit me well (I've tried), instead, having a daily routine that I stick to quite closely really makes the homeschooling day go more smoothly for everyone. Each child knows what is supposed to happen every day, and what their jobs and responsibilities are.

These things, I have to thank, in large part, to my Mr. Knightly. 

At times, though, being married to a real life Mr. Knightly can have it's own set of frustrations. Being reminded frequently of things that need to be corrected can feel overwhelming at times. In the book, he tells Emma something like (I don't have the exact words in front of me), "I have rebuked and corrected you, and you have born it wonderfully!" Every now and then, to keep my spirits up, and to make fun of himself for how high a standard he sets, at times, for our lives, Ben jokingly quotes that exact phrase to me. 

Anyway, the other day, Ben said to me, "Do you want to know what your worst failing is?"

"Not particularly, no," I groaned.

"Your worst failing," he continued, ignoring my scrunched up face and the fact I crumpled myself in a heap upon hearing the words (we were both laughing, by the way), "your worst failing is that you have not been faithful to your blog where you take pictures of our kids, and write about our lives, and put our stories as they all grow up, into your blog."

"That's my worst failing?" I repeated, straightening up. "Wow, you must think I'm amazing. How can that be my worst failing?"

"You are amazing."

"Oh." See, it's really a great thing to be married to Mr. Knightly.

"But I want you to write your blog."

"Oh. Okay. I agree. Actually, yeah, I really miss recording all of that down, too."

One of my dearest friends, Tarah, is akin to my husband in that she is not afraid to bring up the hard topics. Every now and then, she sends me a text. "WRITE YOUR BLOG!" Well, she happened to be over that night. "Write your blog, Jen!"

"Okay, okay, I'll do it! Okay!"

Yesterday, I saw her at church. "Write your blog!"

"Okay, okay, I will!"

And so I have, today, at least. 

I'll leave you with a picture of Cate on her 18th (for real!) birthday.

Evie's shed

Remember a couple of years ago when Cate and Grace fixed up the old attic? Well, that inspiration got the wheels in my head turning, and I decided I wanted to convert our shed by the garden into a special place for Evie, as well as make the surrounding areas of the garden extra nice and fun to be in. We have so much land, and so many overgrown areas, that getting the yard into shape is actually quite daunting. But I think I've realized that, no different from house cleaning, I needed to just tackle one area of the yard at a time. We currently have three outbuilding that are currently stuffed full to overflowing with junk, filled with hornet's nests, and overwhelm me if I think too much about the work that needs to be done. However, spending the weekend on this little project for Evie, and the garden has given me a little momentum to keep forging ahead and plotting how to tackle some other outside areas that need work.

This shed really wasn't too bad to begin with, and it is still not done, but so far it has been a fun project for the whole family. Pinterest has proven to be its usual help, or danger, depending on how you look at it. After deciding to make the shed into a fun, cozy house for Evie, I looked to see if Pinterest had and ideas for me (Ha!). Well, apparently making sheds into charming, feminine spaces is a thing? They call them She Sheds. Hahahahahahahaha, I know, right? Anyway, I for one find that hilarious. But, thankfully, there was no shortage of ideas. I'm hoping to be able to sort through all that junk I was telling you about, and be able to make the shed super charming just with things we have on hand.

I did have to buy paint, of course, and I'm sort of already regretting my economical decision to do everything, including the floor, in white. But I have found that floor paint really does wipe down well, so I am hoping it will work out all right when Evie and her friends play in there. I also painted the bike- an old, rusted one of Grace's. I plan to cover it with flower baskets. And, you may not believe me, but I did come up with the idea of painting an old bike for decoration, before peeking to see if anyone on Pinterest had ever done so. Yes, yes, indeed, they had. So much "painted bike covered with flowers" inspiration. 

We painted our old crib. It was Cate's baby crib. So many memories. Grace, Gideon, and Evie used it. After Evie, I'm not exactly sure what happened, but Jude, Truman and Clemmie never slept in it. We didn't live in a home that was big enough for a special, private baby nursery, and as infants they slept in our bed. After that, I moved them to a Porta-crib, because our house was such that I needed to move the crib in different rooms throughout the day so the baby could get a quiet nap. We converted the crib to a daybed a few years back and put it in the play room for cozy seating. But when I painted the shed white, I knew a gleaming white daybed/couch would be perfect. So the crib got painted, too, giving it new life from 17 years ago.

We also needed to purchase the flowers (though the random assortment of pots were all things we had on hand). The flowers were very fun for Evie to get to pick out, her own special choices. I hope she will find them special enough that she will keep the flowers watered and alive.  But anything else I plant out there I hope will be perennial, so I don't need to buy more flowers every year. I did buy clematis, to get started on the more long term picture. Also, I really hope to actually plant a couple of trees out there for shade. If they are on the west side, they will not shade the garden at all, but will hopefully, in a few years, be able to shed and the other things in that section that are currently in the direct sun. It gets very hot. I'm not a very experienced gardener, flower arranger, or landscaper. So I'm sure it will be trial and error. But that's kind of the point of gardening, right? Year by year, adding and adjusting and learning what works and what doesn't, watching the area change with time? 

Okay, so, let me close this post by showing you pictures of what we have done so far.

Impulsive

We were looking at old photos on Facebook last night, and my heart broke a little, realizing how many memories were on there, even though I don't feel that I put all that many photos up. And I realized I had hardly taken a picture since my last post, back in December. And what of all the memories about life I have written about on here? That does it, I thought, and first thing this morning pulled up Life of Seven and decided to post. I'm a person of extremes, I believe, always have been. It works for and against me, and I have tried to become more balanced over the years. But the times it works in my favor is when I decide something is a good idea and go with it. For instance, reading. Last year I read so little beside audio books. The beginning of this year, my sister printed out a checklist for friends who would want to do her invented "52 book challenge." To make a long story short, I scoffed at the idea initially. There was no way I could possibly read that much this year. But I got to thinking about it while I heard my kids talk about how fun it would be to try to reach that reading goal and realized how silly it is that I don't read more. I used to read all the time. I used to read voraciously, in every spare moment of the day. I used to go to the Denver Public Library and leave with a brown paper grocery bag filled to the brim with books (granted, a huge percentage of them were Babysitter's club books and the like) and read non stop for about three days before I finally slowed down, but got dangerously near to the end of my library stack before the three weeks before the next library visit were up.

"Where is that girl?" I thought when faced with Stephanie's 52 book challenge. Years ago, I would have scoffed at the 52 book challenge list because that would have taken me closer to a month than a year. But once I decided I wanted to find that "girl who reads" again, I started picking up books in my free time, like I used to. No lingering over the decision or easing in to it. No, reading is a great thing, and I'm going to do it, I determined. So here I am at the end of February and I find myself ahead of schedule, ahead of the schedule that I thought was impossible just a few weeks before (So far this year, I've read or listened to 12 books, in case you were wondering). 

My impulsiveness relates to my blog post today as well, and even blogging in general. One day a few years ago, I decided to start a blog, because I wanted to write more, and have more motivation to take more pictures of my kids. Which actually doesn't sound very virtuous, now that I think of it, hah! "Hey kids, I probably wouldn't bother to take pictures of you on my own, but now that I have a blog, lets get some quick pictures of you riding your bikes." "Look, Clemmie's walking! Better let the blog know." Shallow reasons or not, there's no denying that I've missed recording details and pictures from life when I haven't posted regularly. Well, why wait around? I decided. Let's rev up the engines again and have a go. So that's what I'm doing today.

 And now let me take a second and tell you about those photos: First of all, Clemmie was in a great mood and smiling for the camera. The problem is, when you ask her to smile, she squinches up her face and closes her eyes. So out of the different pictures I took, only a few of them showed her eyes open. But she's actually not pouting. I feel like the luckiest mom in the world when I look at those pictures of my four beautiful girls.

And the final ones, why yes, that is Cate on her 17th birthday. The strawberry cake was pink and lovely and tasted...well, it was okay. Beautiful food doesn't necessarily always taste good.

And about Cate: I'm going to just copy and paste what I wrote on Facebook the morning of her birthday, because my day is getting away from me and there are children who are supposed to be doing school work right now but are actually playing while my back is turned. 

So, here is what I wrote about Cate, and I still mean it with all my heart: "I love this girl SO MUCH! Happy 17th birthday, Cate! Your first moments on this earth feel like they happened just yesterday, and at the same time, a million years ago. Over the last 17 years, while I've taught you to do things like talk and read and ride a bike and share with your siblings and how you should tell the truth and love God, at the same time, you were teaching me just as much, if not more, about life. About how precious relationships are. About the fierce love a mother feels for her child. About turning to God when you feel hopelessly inadequate. About putting time and effort and work into something, and reaping the glorious rewards for years (and years) to come. The privilege of being your mother has made me a better person than I could have ever been without you. Happy birthday, my darling. Every day that goes by, you become more lovely and sweet and good and interesting and fun than you were the day before. God blessed my life so much when he gave me you!"

 

Christmas delights

When you are the youngest in a family of seven children, sometimes your siblings dress you up as The Christmas Elf. It is just comes with the territory. However, if you are two, then playing the role of Christmas Elf is pretty close to the best thing in the entire world, right up there with Snoopy and pink and boots and snow "soups" (suits) and lights and Christmas and Jingle Bells. Tell me, what is more wonderful than a two year old at Christmas time? I know, I'm sorry, trick question. The answer, obviously, is "Nothing!" I am a pretty lucky lady to have gotten to enjoy what will make seven Christmases with a child who is two. I just hope she doesn't get mad at me when she grows up and sees the pictures of herself being strung with lights and decorated with ornaments. You enjoyed it at the time, Clemmie.

This year our Christmas decorations feature some treasures brought back from our visit to Denmark. I love the wooden candle decoration. There were quite a few different types of this decoration in Denmark. Scandinavian design is so beautiful, with its simple, clean lines, and warm, cozy light. I love it. I'd make my whole house that style if it weren't for all the dirty hands and feet and dogs that make a mess every day. Clean, white lines would last about five minutes in my house, I'm afraid.

The shiny camel you see in the background is from Ben's recent business trip to the United Arab Emirates. We hated to say goodbye, but now we have a new Christmas decoration! Hmmm, I think I'd much rather have my husband around instead...but I do love how the camel perfectly matches the wisemen set we already owned. Ben's had to travel quite a bit, again.

Now, I want you to specifically notice that bright, gleaming Christmas tree, with every single bulb glowing. When we pulled out the tree this year, only a string of about ten lights on the tree worked. The kids and I, with the help of some friends, changed out every.single.bulb. on that tree to make it light up again like the first year we got the tree. Since that first year, each Christmas saw fewer and fewer bulbs that worked. It became such a sad looking tree. Strings of light bulbs, full of hope and potential, but instead are empty and dark are so sorry to look at. Okay, wow, I'm getting a little ridiculous, but you get the idea. This year it was clear that no amount of ornaments could disguise the fact that almost none of the lights worked. Fixing the tree took hours, and I hope to never have to do it again. Maybe I'll start charging the kids money for each minute the tree is on in order to conserve the light bulbs. Well, I probably won't go that far, but we are extra proud of our tree this year after enduring such a chore.

I don't have anything profound to say today. But sweet, cheery, nostalgic Christmas decorations are profound in their own way, I suppose. Bringing them out each year, and hearing exclamations of, "Oh, I remember this one!" gives me such joy.

Giving God Thanks

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As I've gotten older, I've begun to realize that there's nothing better than a day devoted to remembering all of the blessings in my life. When I was young I thought this aspect of Thanksgiving (sitting in a circle and discussing what we were thankful) was extremely boring. What I loved most about the day was seeing my cousins and playing from morning to night, avoiding the kitchen duties. So,  in a way I kept the spirit of Thanksgiving, because I was fully enjoying the life God gave me before I even was aware what a gift that life was. As I grew older and lots of the day's responsibilities began to fall on my shoulders, I spent the day cooking, cleaning, and entertaining guests. And again, I think I kept the spirit of Thanksgiving in sharing with others and enjoying their company, even though I was a too caught up in the day's events to spend much time thinking about what the day was for. 

Now that I am truly an "adult" (hah, I still don't really feel like one, does anyone?), one way I have grown into that role, whatever it means, is that I finally do what you're supposed to do on Thanksgiving, properly. I can't help myself: all day long I go down the list of God's blessings and I'm overwhelmed with thankfulness. Thankfulness for His salvation. For the way He's been there for me throughout my whole life. When I was ten, and and He saved me, and I felt Him say that I was His child and would never leave me, I didn't know, and couldn't possibly know, what that would mean for me. 26 years later I'm beginning to get an inkling.

What I've found is that my life works. And it's a miracle.

Ben and I are so happy together, even after being married for 18 years. That's a miracle. I have seven healthy, beautiful children, but even more than that, as they grow older, they have become my best friends and are amazing people to be around. That's a miracle! I have a group of close friends that I interact with several times a week, that follow God. We have known each other for years, and we love each other, and have grown closer and closer with every passing year. That's a miracle. And in my personal life, every single time I have had a doubt, or a question, or a fear about a situation, I have asked God to answer it and put my worries to rest. And He has never failed me. The truth has always set me free. And that's a miracle.

Someone asked Ben once if he would continue to believe in God if it could be proven, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Jesus had never existed. I think that person was a little surprised at Ben's answer, which was, "Of course I wouldn't continue to put my faith in something that was proven to be false. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the substance of things that, in reality, exist, even if I can't see all of them now. If faith is placed in something that is false, then we have placed our hopes on something that will never come to pass and  our faith is misplaced. If faith is placed in the right thing, then time will reveal that that faith was not misguided, and that reality and faith, down the road, will coincide with each other."

In short, truth works. Lies don't.

Today, at the age of 36, I have certainly not done everything perfectly. And I have had my ups and downs and messes and mistakes. Big ones. But even though it isn't perfect, there is absolutely no doubt that my life works. And the fact that it works is proof that the foundation I've built it on has not been faulty. My life wouldn't work today if its foundation was made of a fantasy. I've lived on this earth for 36 years and if my faith were misguided my life would be terrible. And it's not terrible. Instead, it's wonderful.  

And there's something further than just doing your best to make things in your life work. Time and time again, when trying to live the right way, I've come up short. Yelled at my kids. Hurt a friend. Argued, no, fought with my husband. A lot. God has made a way for that, too. He's full, actually He's abounding, in something called grace. Grace for help in the time of need. Grace that lets me stand, even when I've fallen. Grace that gives me strength where I am weak. Grace that fills in those gaps in our lives while we grow. Life would be impossible without that grace.

When Ben and I got married, and we were both the most stubborn human beings you'd ever met, God's grace was there, to show us how to live together in harmony, and believe me, those first years of our marriage were closer to cacophony than a symphony. His grace covered our sins and our marriage survived the chaos while we grew. When Cate was born and I became a mother, and had no clue what to do, and I still felt like a kid myself, God's grace was there to give me wisdom how to be a parent, and in the meantime, it filled in the gaps where I lacked knowledge, patience, responsibility. Grace for help when you need it. And who doesn't need help?

It's just a miracle.

So, a day in which to reflect on God's miracles has turned me, in my old, wizened, adult state, into a blubbering, grateful mess. And if that's what it means to have the spirit of Thanksgiving, then I fit the requirements perfectly.

What we've been up to

Wow, guys, sorry I haven't checked in for a while. The last couple of weeks, as you may have guessed, have been quite busy. Part of it involved an anniversary/birthday trip that Ben and I went on for three days to California. Okay, why lie? We spent all three days at Disneyland. Yes, that was our getaway. I may write about it some more in another post, but Ben proposed to me at Disneyland 18 1/2 years ago. Some members of our family are kind of Disney fanatics. Not so much about the movies, or the characters, but the theme parks. When you visit a theme park, you truly are visiting the Happiest Place on Earth, so, what better place to celebrate an anniversary and birthday than at Disneyland? Sounds like a recipe for a great celebration. And it was. One of the funnest trips we've ever taken, though at every turn I'd see a little girl Evie's age, telling me about a roller coaster she went on, or two little kids Jude's and Truman's ages giggling, giggling, giggling on a water ride, or a toddling two year old like Clementine dressed in a ridiculous princess dress, and my heart broke a little in loneliness for my kids. The paradox of parenting. You want to get away by yourself, until the moment you finally are away. No matter, I promise you that Ben and I made the best of our homesickness by tearing throughout the park at lightning speed (not something that's possible to do with all seven kids in tow) getting to all the rides.

Well, now, I said I wasn't planning to write about our trip, but there it is. A quick synopsis.

As a place holder for not having taken pictures for a couple of weeks, I give you a couple from the Olympic party we had at the start of the Olympics. This was so fun that I think it will have to become a tradition. A few simple games, that everyone, from the littlest kids to the adults, can participate in, a few cheap trophies purchased, food representing the host country (we allowed for a little creative license with the Brazilian food), a bit of decorating which included wrapping hula hoops with streamers in the colors of the Olympic rings (that was my idea, and I admit I felt, and feel, so clever to have come up with it- I hope people pin it a million times on Pinterest!), and you have the makings of a fun evening for everyone.

School has started up again, more or less, for the kids. We aren't putting in our full days yet, but easing into it gently, which is how I like to do it. I've been bad about making sure my little boys have been practicing piano, so that was kind of my goal for this week. I love spending time with Jude and Truman on the piano, since they love it so much and watching them pick up rhythm and melody and harmony is so delightful. Let me write this here and now, as a reminder, for when I find myself too "busy" to help the boys with their piano practice. 

One more thing- we are continuing to love Audible- perhaps the best addition to our lives that has happened to us this year. Gideon, Evie and I just finished Anne of Green Gables, and though we knew the story well, I, having read it a half a dozen times, Gideon once, not to mention the many, many, viewings of the movie, hearing it read aloud to us was a new way to experience it and we all laughed out loud throughout the story, as well as brushed away tears, and sighed, often, in the most satisfied way at the conclusion at the end. Gilbert giving up the Avonlea school for Anne, without any prompting, or even letting Anne know, must be one of the best moments in all of literature. Such a perfect book. We hurriedly began listening Anne of Avonlea because we just didn't want the sweet moments to end.

Today, Cate and Grace and I are going to finish up our last ten minutes of Unbroken, and then it will be To Kill a Mockingbird. I'm really looking forward to listening to this one, because I have heard that Sissy Spacek narrating it is second to none. 

Finally, I hit upon the brilliant idea of downloading a book for my littlest ones, and let them practice sitting quietly like they are supposed to do during church. I picked out Beatrix Potter for them, which they like pretty well, but I am trying to come up with something they may enjoy a little bit more for next time. Possibly Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, Winnie-the-Pooh, even Betsy-Tacy,  but I'm still deciding. 

That's a wrap, you guys. Hope to post more soon. Surely you are all dying to know what I'm knitting, for one thing. That's coming, it's coming.

Clementine's Pacifier

Wow, I just realized my last blog post title was "Another Week". How exciting, that's going to attract a lot of readers, I'm sure. Haha. And this title? Clementine's Pacifier? No more intriguing than the last one, I'm afraid, but sometimes that's life. That's me, always looking for excitement in the ordinary.

Before I get to writing about Clementine's Pacifier, (I know, you are surely on pins and needles about that, but you are just going to have to wait) I wanted to make note of something else. This week, like last week, was beginning to feel like just "Another Week" when I realized it was the one year anniversary of something really important. Exactly one year ago, Ben returned from his last international business trip away from the family. He has been with us nearly every day for an entire year, even taking us to Denmark with him last year for three months. From before Jude was born, Ben has needed to travel nearly every month, many trips lasting two weeks or longer, while I've been stateside running things at home. I'm sure I've complained about Ben's traveling schedule enough in real life that I don't really need to spend any more time complaining about it on here to you. Suffice it to say that we are very, very thankful that crazy schedule is done with. It took us a few months to get used to living with each other again, I admit. In some ways it was kind of like the first year we were married- "who is this person in my life and why is he/she trying to tell me what to do?" Anyway, it sure is nice now to wake up in the middle of the night without panicking for a split second, wondering who the stranger is in my bed. I'm not joking.

Also news this week: Clementine has bid farewell to her pacifier. Most of my kids took a pacifier, actually all of them besides Cate, Grace, and Jude. Those three sucked various fingers or thumbs instead. I should have probably written a post on here celebrating when Jude stopped sucking his thumb, because that was a much bigger achievement. And, I am not 100% sure he has stopped completely. As of a couple of months ago, I occasionally noticed it in his mouth when I went to wake him up in the mornings, and could see that it was wet and wrinkled. I suppose only a mother could find something like that endearing, but I did, and do. Jude, who is my cuddliest, snuggliest, snuggler, was just the sweetest little thumb sucker. He loved taking something soft and fuzzy, like worn, frayed strands of his night-night; or a soft cozy toy; or, in a pinch, his own eyelashes, and softly touch them while sucking his thumb. He called whatever it was his "tickle", and really, anything would do. A velvety leaf brushed up to his cheek, a scrap of velvet fabric, his precious night-night that became so frayed that only a strand or two of the threads remained, but were held lovingly up to his cheek while he contentedly sucked his thumb. Ah, Jude.

But I was writing about Clementine. I decided she was much too attached to what we call her "paci". She calls it "Boppy." Anyway, it was getting to the point where she wanted it in her mouth all day long. When it wasn't in her mouth she asked for it. When it was in her mouth, she still talked about it. She talked to it. She made up songs about it. I'd get her up in the morning and her arms would be filled with night-nights (she loves those, too) and three pacifiers, unwilling to part with any of them. She'd invent silly sayings about her Boppy and repeat them all day long, like, "Hi, Boppy!" or "Uh-oh, Boppy!" and "Boppy, Mama? Boppy, Dada? Boppy, Cate? Boppy, Evie?" and, the funniest of all, when we were driving in the car, she said suddenly, as if it had just occurred her, and as if she hadn't been talking about it of the the last ten minutes of the drive, "I know! Boppy!"

Anyway, we were all getting a little tired of the Boppy saga. Making sure she always had one was getting annoying. And, my other kids said good-bye to the paci by 18 months of age. I don't know why I delayed it with Clementine. Maybe it was the same thing as Jude's thumb. Her attachment was just so adorable. Anyway, the other night, I told Clemmie we were going to say bye-bye to Boppy. "No more Boppy."

Her face crumbled up and she looked like I said I was taking away her best friend. Which, I guess I kind of was, in a sense, but no child should have a pacifier as a best friend. It just is not a worthy companion to put all your time and thoughts and conversation into. When your best friend is a pacifier that you sing songs about, it is time for Mama to intervene.

She recovered remarkably quickly after I told her Boppy would be no more. I think she went to bed without crying that night, though she may have fussed for a couple of minutes. By the way, I have always had a pretty easy time ridding kids of the pacifier. Usually after one nap or one night sleep without it, they pretty much forget about it. I'm always more worried about what the protesting will be than what it actually ends up being.

So, the next morning I got up Clementine, marveling at how well she survived the night without Boppy. But normally, first thing in the morning it's all she wants to talk about, so I was curious how that would go. I got her out of her crib and she gave me a huge smile. "Boppy gone." 

"Yes, Clemmie, Boppy gone."

"Boppy gone, Mama."

"Yes. Bye-bye, Boppy."

"Boppy gone?"

"Yes, Boppy is gone."

Such go conversations with an almost two year old. I figured her father deserved to take part in such enlightening conversations as much as I did, so I suggested, "Go tell Daddy!!"

Running to the foot of the stairs excitedly: "Dada! Dada! Boppy gone!"

"Yes Clemmie. Boppy is gone."

"Ohhhh...." like she had just heard this piece of information of the first time. "Boppy gone."

"Exactly."

"Boppy gone, Dada. Boppy gone. Boppy gone."

Thinking I could distract her, I said, "Go wake up Cate and Grace!"

She ran to the bedroom, and shouted "Cate! Grace! Boppy gone!"

"Boppy is gone???"

"Yes, Boppy gone."

So, while I guess she is no longer addicted to her pacifier, we still talk about it a lot. An awful lot. We talk about her paci and it's gone-ness All. Day. Long.

I love this age. So. Much.

 

Another Week

All in a week...You can see a sneak peek of the craigslist purchase I told you about, though it isn't finished yet. Stay tuned for another post about that. I can't wait to show you.

Um, Clementine, feeding her baby in the high chair? Makes my heart melt. "Hungry, Baby?" I love how she feeds her baby cheerios, makes her wave to us, reads her books, helps her dance. And, then, a nap with "Gwace" on the couch? A privilege that is doesn't happen often nowadays. Rarely does Clementine fall asleep anywhere but in her bed. Grace enjoyed this shared nap as much as Clementine.

So, yeah, that's the Merriment cardigan. Naturally, when I noticed Alicia Paulsen was knitting it for her daughter, I had to drop everything and start knitting one for Clementine's birthday. I'd plan to knit her a sweater anyway. This one is just perfect. From what I can see from Alicia's, she is leaving off all those "lice" stitches, the contrast colored dots. I am following her lead on that one, too. I have knit sweaters with those stranded dots before, and while I do love them, it forces me to have to make a steek, and the knitting is kind of a pain. Those little lice stitches get pretty monotonous. I want this one to sweater to knit up  pretty quick, especially since I plan to also make the knitted bonnet, as well. Oh right, and I'm knitting Clemmie this baby doll and matching wardrobe, too. All for her birthday on August 10th. No big deal. Haha. Around birthdays, this is just how I roll.

I knit the amount you see here yesterday, mostly while waiting with a friend at the hospital. I love the way fair isle flies along. I love knitting this size sweater, too. So small and quick. Yes, Clementine has way too many sweaters. I'm okay with that.

Oh, goodness, it just occurred to me. A Merriment cardigan for my Clementine Merriweather? It surely was meant to be.

This week... I'm glad we are coming to a close. Fridays are always wonderful, and some I am even more ready for than others. I think this is one of them.