If we didn't go to the pool....

{click pic to zoom}

If we didn't go to the pool....

we would not spend a gagillion minutes looking for suits you had on less than 24 hours ago

or the sunscreen

or the goggles

there wouldn't be half a dozen more towels to wash

nobody would cry because they got sunscreen in their eyes

or fight and argue about whose turn it is to sit in the third row

there would be no passionate pleading to go to the other pool 

or begging for snacks from the vending machine

or tattling for whatever you manage to find offense with

or complaining that the sun is too hot and the water is too cold

or there is no one to play with or that someone splashed you (surprise)

and no calling for mama to see your newest trick

or to come and play with you

and mostly there wouldn't be this...

the moment where you climb in my lap...

and I remember that when you are wet and cold 

you seem sooooooo little

and that I couldn't be more in love with you

When my babies were babies, I held them for their naps. There was this overwhelming sense of time passing faster than I could absorb the moment. And so when the moment slowed down...I soaked it up. I knew that one day I would long for afternoons with a sleeping baby in my arms and a toddler snuggled close. My mom used to call them my little cats. Piled all over mama...someone usually nursing. She said it with disdain...like I should put those babies down and get something done. Dishes, dust, and laundry waited. And we survived.

Now they are bigger. Nobody naps (except mama). But it is a regular occurrence to find two or more kids piled up together reading, watching a movie, or even asleep at night. They reach out to one another to physically comfort and love. It's a reminder that all that time wasted... cultivated something.

And the stage of having little people on my hip and needing something nearly every moment is over. But that sense of time flying by is still present...maybe even more so. And dishes, dust, and laundry still wait.

I wish I was more methodical about housework. I wish I could systematically conquer clutter and mess. I wish I had this innate sense of everything having a place. I don't. And there is frustration at it. It is an endless task and I am operating outside of any natural skill set I have. It doesn't mean I can't and don't put effort into it. But it will always be an afterthought and never come instinctively.

Life would be easier. But easy isn't always better.

If I had to choose between the kind of mama, wife, and friend I am or the one whose kitchen and laundry room I envy....I would choose who I am. I would choose a mama who does picnics, and homemade birthday parties, field trips, and afternoons at the park. I would choose bonfires over bedtime and adventure over routine. I would choose a friend who will go grocery shopping with you on a whim at 10 pm and looks for ways to make you feel loved. I would choose a wife that is more concerned that our home be filled with art, music, and conversation then how clean the baseboards and windows are. And I would choose a wife that is passionate and filled up because she is spending her energy on things that give life and love to her and those around her.

Maybe there are women that can do it all. I can't. There are still dishes to do and laundry to fold...but it will not reduce me to tears or define me.

I have other things to do. Important things. I am going to pack snacks, put on a bathing suit and spend the afternoon at the pool with my kittens. I'll come home and make their favorite dinner and rush out the door to create and inspire and be part of something bigger than myself. And when the chaos quiets, I'll spend some time on the couch with my prince charming instead of in the kitchen cleaning.

Because I am that girl. And we like her. ♥

This I Know...

You are wonderful.

You are brilliant.

You are hilarious.

You are amazing.

But mostly... you are mine.

There is nothing more beautiful, 

nothing more significant, 

nothing more accomplished 

than being mama to you. 

And you gave me more, 

made me more,

on the day that you were born

 than I will do for you

in your entire lifetime.

And I am so thankful

for the chance to love you.

And be loved by you.

Remind me all the way to big...

To write a good love letter, you ought to begin without knowing what you mean to say, and to finish without knowing what you have written. ~Jean-Jacques Rousseau

 

 

I wonder if that applies to blogging, too? I am thinking it doesn't. Shouldn't. But it often does for me.

So here I sit wondering if I'll be able to arrange the words to convey this idea bouncing around in my head. Awhile ago I was having a conversation with a friend about a project they had inspired/worked on/pulled off and mixed with the encouragement and pride I felt for their thing...was envy. It wasn't for the recognition, because honestly I don't know that they received any. It was just that they did this big thing.

And I miss big things. 

 

But right now my life is about little things... 

And here is what I know:

Big things start as small things. 

And little things add up to big things. 

And big things don't matter if you miss all the little things along the way.

 

That is what keeping it complicated is all about. It's about when you think you have done enough...do more. All in. Even if no one else will ever know or understand. Especially then. Especially in the small stuff. 

But I forget. Everyday. Everyday I miss chances to help. And love. And encourage. And give. And surrender. And thank. And celebrate. And even worse than that is that I miss chances to teach my kids how to do all those things.

And I want to forget less...miss less chances. So I create reminders...like this blog.

 

And this:

It's just a jar from walmart with wise words spelled out in letter stickers... from a woman who gave her life to others..."small things with great love".  It's sitting in our living room with a stack of colorful index cards next to it....collecting small things done with great love. Done for us. Done by us.

It's a small thing... that is a big reminder to go. And be. And do.

 

And that feels big to even me. :)

 

List

1. I love these people. 

They stick like glue to each other.  Right now they are playing mom and children. And hide and seek. And singing along to Taylor Swift. And making my heart melt. I love that they are so tight.

2. And we are are doing nothing today.
Spring Break. Cloudy day. Playing. Going to drag every blanket into the living room and watch movies all afternoon. In our pajamas. With popcorn. And lemonade. And maybe brownies.

3. But not tomorrow...or the next day.
We have big plans. We have movies to see, museums to explore, pottery to paint and we must find some water to play in...if the sun will cooperate. :)

4. Plus it's daddy's birthday week!

Wonder what mama has planned?!?

5. I'm making decronstructed enchiladas for dinner. 

They are my favorite. And so pretty. Not to mention yummy. 

6. We had the best weekend.

Fun birthday party. Date night that rocked. Seeing Aladdin on stage as a family. 


7. Little things making me so very happy. More content than in awhile.
Have I mentioned I love my new sunglasses? And lots of new music. Read some great books lately. Using my camera. Creating some distance between me and hard things. Dreaming. Embracing things I can't change. 

8. I know it must be spring (despite the clouds) because I feel the urge to picnic. Repeatedly. 

Some people clean. I picnic. Add to #3 springbreaktodolist. And I feel a picnic post...or two... coming soon.

Crazy. Chaotic. Perfect.

This is a crazy life. Last night we walked into a restaurant and all eyes turned on us. We made an entrance! That is how it is with us. Maybe it was the sudden shift in the noise level, or the four stairsteps marching to the beat of their own drum, or that most people don't drag four children out for sushi. But this week I have been delighting in that.  I love that people don't hide their surprise when I say all four of them are mine. I love that they think I am a little crazy. It is a little crazy, a lot chaotic, and pretty wild. It's an adventure....and I wouldn't have it any other way.

We have settled into a bit of a routine with Daddy's new job. I have an aversion to routine. And I thought this week would be a good chance for mama to get a little preemptive break before spring break. Read: nine days of full on kid mode. What I didn't realize was that it was Texas Public Schools week and that I would spend my week pulling rabbits out of hats. And my favorite trick was making chili with 21 kindergartners. There were a few wistful moments where I felt my heart tug towards teaching. But the truth is that it was really awesome just to be Elisha's mama. He was excited to have me there. While it was fun to teach and use those gifts a little, it was even better to leave chili fest holding my proud little man's hand. I don't have a single memory of having one of my parent's in my classroom as a child. It was great to hear him retell it all to his sisters...and then again daddy at dinner.

I will be the first to admit that there are days where I want to be anything but a stay at home mom. It's not because I don't love being with my kids. It's that I don't feel like I accomplish anything. There is no recognition. There is no chance to be brilliant or ambitious. And there is a lot of routine.

But yesterday as we were hanging out at the park after school...which we do most days... I realized something. I did something. I do something everyday. I give my four little people a childhood. Every book I read. Every afternoon wasted on a playground. Every lunch box. Every holiday. Every song turned up on the radio to sing-a-long. Every picnic. Every birthday party. Every craft project. Every recipe. Every iloveyouandyouaresoawesome.

A childhood.

It's brilliant, ambitious, and I recognize it.

And now we are off to kick off spring break and this amazing weather with a picnic. One that is brilliant... and ambitious even. <3

Wilderness here we come!

Tomorrow we are having a monumental day. The six of us are going faux camping. Yes. You read that correctly. Tech support and the girl who wears heels everyday are taking their four children to the wilderness. On purpose. Two children to each adult. Fire, fish hooks, wildlife, large body of water, and pointy sticks. (Who told me this was good for my kids?)

Here is the plan. We get up in the morning and haul the hundred bucks work of goods from walmart to a state park one hour north. We will spend the entire day....till they can no longer keep their eyes open.....running, hiking, fishing, roasting, grilling, reading, stargazing and enjoying the great outdoors.

Then the most brilliant part of the plan is the part where we drive home....to our bed. And our plumbing. Who cares if we have to carry four sleeping kids in the house....we'll be in the house!

I am going to wear tennis shoes. Daddy is going to take an entire day off. With any luck, we will be speaking when it's all over and our kids will remember this day for a long time. And not because anyone caught on fire, snagged their mama with a fish hook, got stung/bitten/charged/sprayed by the wildlife, fell in the lake or gouged their sibling with a roasting stick.....♥

 

Jayden and her red carpet

Jayden.

This child is a girl after my own heart. I am just going to confess up front that I may have spent some time coveting her dress.... And wishing I had somewhere to wear it.

Jaydie understands that the are few times in a girl's life when she can dress solely in sequins and when the opportunity comes..... you embrace it wholeheartedly. And then you buy shoes to throw the ensemble over the top!

She doesn't mind her picture being taken one bit.



And the benefit of trick or treating with a giant sequin is that we were in no danger of being run over. I might have asked Jayden to play crossing guard a few times. It was funny. And we tried to laugh with her....but the sophisticated girl she is didn't find a thing funny about it. She was too busy rockin' that dress and her imaginary red carpet.

As much as Jaydie and I go head to head.....a lot...we had the best time doing her hair, a little makeup, and lots of time in front of the mirror together. She is growing up so fast and I know the days of us playing dress up together are quickly passing. Tomorrow her prom date will be ringing the door bell.



Love this girl and how she carries herself with a level of grace and sophistication that make a sequined dress completely unnecessary.....but a ton of fun nonetheless!

From the cereal aisle...

The biggest takeaway from my childhood was how I was not going to parent.  But I had to learn what  I was supposed to do somewhere. So I spent a lot of time in the pre-baby and new-baby stage reading parenting books. I have read almost every parenting book on the market. All spectrums. Christian. Secular. Braille.

And so a common thread heard in our house during extended family gatherings was...read dripping with sarcasm... "Is that what you read in one of  your books...?"

Eventually I found my groove, followed my intuition, and think I have a decent handle on this parenting thing. Could I do better? Yes. But it's not because I don't know what to do....it's because I am not a morning person and I have an aversion to routine.

But my kids are great!  They are fairly well-mannered, intelligent, and haven't been to juvenile hall. They may be sarcastic, messy, and too smart for their own good....but we like that about each other. And they are mine. So that is what counts.

But back to parenting books. One of those parenting books convinced me that cereal was from the devil. Specifically sugar cereal. Sugar and colored dye cereal.

So NO! has been my mantra all the way down the cereal aisle.  And on the cereal aisle... I have a will of steel. I buy multigrain cheerios. They hate them. And they start a riot  every time I say we are having cereal for breakfast.

Then comes the hunger strikes. And I am usually good with that until the pressure starts to build in my head because I have not yet had my requisite Rt 44 Dr. Pepper and cannot think clearly. It is not my poor parenting skills but my muddled brain (caused by dr. pepper deficiency) that makes me crack  and get them a taco or sausage biscuit.

All of that to say that this week....on the cereal aisle at Sams Club, life changed for the Evans' family. It suddenly came in a moment of clarity, helped along by the ice cold drink in a styrofoam cup, that this plan wasn't working. My resolve to feed them something without sugar and dye as the top two ingredients was being overrun with the reality that I end up feeding them something that is filled with fat and more calories than they need in two meals. And it isn't cheap.

So I caved. Or rather came to an understanding with the perfect mama who lives in my head....who must be a morning person.

Cocoa puffs, trix, and lucky charms came home with us. In an industrial box. And they have eaten it every morning with out gnashing of teeth or wailing.  And they are  content and quiet too.

Now for my sonic habit? Everyone needs a vice.

The misadventure that never teaches....

Sunday mornings. Supposed to be Sabbath. The day of rest.

Ha. Not so much. At least not till 12:45.

Here is how it goes.

The kids want to eat. Every single week. They don't get the hint that even though I keep buying frozen breakfast in bulk from Sam's that I want them to microwave them and eat them. Without a riot. Or eat cereal. We have covered that already and apparently it is too much to ask.

And so I feed them.

And then I ask them to get dressed.

And then I tell them to get dressed.

And then I yell at them to get dressed.

Just being transparent here...

And then when there is just enough time for me to get a shower and get us there ...someone will bring me something to launder or insist they need a shower.

Then  I usually can no longer even pretend to be calm. This teachable moment becomes our least favorite of the week...

Minimum of two of us are crying by now.

It is four against one....and they are unionized. They can't find a hairbrush to save a life but I swear they hold secret meetings about Sunday mornings.

Then hopefully I am dressed and we have 12 minutes till service starts.

"Please get your shoes on and wait by the door."

In the car with 8 minutes to go. Somebody has something they shouldn't or doesn't have something they should. Sometimes we fix it, other times I no longer care.

I crank the music and drive fast. I need to keep the music up louder than the children can argue...because I rushed them and didn't provide proper transitional warnings...and they are now cranky.

We are there....I thoroughly threaten the children about proper decorum and how they should march directly to get their tags and not stop to kiss daddy good morning, or get a snack from the green room or act like children in any possible form.

And Kaya has two different shoes on. Because she likes them. That's the consensus.

But I have tunnel vision. I can, if I  have laser focus, get them to their classes so they can spend at least an hour with someone who will be nice to them and find a seat hopefully not too long after the first song or two. Mission Sorta Accomplished.

Sometimes when my short-term memory is not functioning we do this Saturday night and Sunday morning. Like this weekend.

And then I spend the day recovering and seriously considering church online.

Whispers from Africa...

I woke up yesterday morning to a picture from Africa in my inbox.

Beauty. Heartbreak.  Desperation. Gratitude. All there.

Photo Credit Kat Williamson

And for a few minutes my heart soars and I am incredibly blown away with what we have been part of. There really are not words.

The truth is though...that my heart is divided.

It is an amazing photograph. Nothing short of that...I have no doubt that this photo will connect hundreds of people in our faith community to this mission. It will stir passion and bring about vision. It will move people.

And I didn't take it.

Because I am here...and not in Africa.

My heart has this divide because I have spent the morning listening to overindulged children argue and whine because cereal is on the breakfast menu. Really.

I am in Motherhood. And the view is not all that.

This divide surprises me, it baffles. Because I love being a mother. Being a 29 year old mother of four is often met with many assumptions... that I just found myself in this position. That couldn't be further from the truth.

This journey to motherhood has been intentional as possible. It was a journey of waiting, trying, and loving babies that I would never hold this side of heaven. It has been one of heartbreak, disappointments, and unanswered questions. Has it been redeemed? I have four amazing, absolutely wonderful, and more than I ever imagined children. And time heals...but it doesn't erase.

And every single day I want them. Every single day I delight in them. Every single day I pray that I am not screwing them up... that I am worthy of being their mother. And I really don't think that unless you have had a baby die inside your body or in your arms that you can begin to get the magnitude of needing to get this right. Something about the inability to just keep a baby alive...it opens up an entire world of doubt and anxiety that is not at all unfounded.

So this divide, it incomprehensible to me.

But I just feel so left behind.

I am not that girl. I don't have to be in the spotlight. I don't have a single performing bone in my body. It's a pretty normal role in my life for someone to bring me some dream of theirs and let me figure out how to make it real. I am good at that. I LOVE that. I love being along for their adventure...and somewhere along the way it becomes our adventure.

So yesterday morning I sat at the desk and cried about how homesick I am for a place I have never been. And how badly I was failing at the one thing I wanted to be amazing at by raising such ungrateful brats. It was the kind of day that waterproof mascara is no match for...

But God spoke to my heart. I looked over and at the table sat Alaina....with her three year old sister in her arms. She was sharing a bowl of cereal with her. Yes the cereal that provoked tantrums from them...and me.

The tenderness and patience in the moment overwhelmed me.

And God whispered in my heart that "Because you are here, she will go."

She will hold babies in her arms that are not hers, and share all that she has, and she will do it with a patient and tender heart.

And that is why I am here and not there.

That moment was mine to capture. That moment was enough to remind me that I have not been left behind. And it was enough to remind me that my heart's desires to go and do and be are not lost in motherhood...and certainly not wasted.

Oh how I missed you…

I am in love with this blog thing. Really.

With the exception of the few peaks I was able to make on J's iPhone (which I am pretending is mine), I was away from the internet all day.

And it's been decided...I don't love Sea World. But I do love this.

and especially them

and even him. Especially him,

It was in the low 100's. It was also hot!  But we had a really great time.

At the end of the day Danielle and I parked ourselves on a bench and let the kids run through the playground. It was there I fell in love...again...with a group of pink flamingo statues.

And If I get my kitchen cleaned and think seriously about dinner, I get to come back to my little niche and edit the flamingos. And you will be in love too!

So watch for flamingos.... and a giveaway!

The best day…

Had the best day yesterday just being Mama....

I love having four kids. I love the near constant chaos it brings. I love being outnumbered. What I love more is days where I actually let myself be fully present with them, absorbed in who they are. And not just managing them....

So yesterday was the  best day despite the fact that not only did I yell "Give me five freaking minutes or we are not going to paint pottery!!!!" at them.... I also managed to have that little tantrum just as the leave-a-message-beep sounded on a friend's voice mail. They promised to delete it. Hoping my kids deleted it too.

And it was the best day despite the fact that a child who should remain nameless, stomped stepped on a ketchup packet at lunch and managed to cover the back of my impeccably white tank top with ketchup splatter. And I didn't find it the least bit funny... And I didn't rush to forgive her for thinking it was funny. It was the best day despite the fact that my real irritation was that she had completely blown my cover as one of those women who has it all together. Look at me. I can have four children, and beautiful clothes, and work, and love my husband and just manage everything with a cheerful heart. Obviously I can't. And it was written on my back in ketchup.

And it was the best day even though I had to promise the bookstore manager that we were leaving in two minutes. And I am pretty sure I made some people in this Christian bookstore reconsider their views on quiverfulness and birth control.

But with paint and brush we spent two hours moving what was in our head onto pottery....hoping that what we were envisioning was what would come out of the kiln. Because the glaze looks entirely different before it has been fired, the process is an act of faith.

Like parenting...

Sometimes what comes out is just what you had hoped for... Some times it is actually more beautiful then you could have imagined.

I am holding out that despite all the despites these kids come out more beautiful then I could have imagined.

Still waiting on the pottery, but so very hopeful about the kids.

Our tribe...

The reality that Jason will be half way around the world in less than 48 hours is setting in. Really setting in...

His bags are packed.  His heart is set. There is adventure in his voice. I am beyond thrilled for him...

I am anxious about nothing....for him. I have no doubt that the team will accomplish incredible things, that hearts will surrender to a living savior, and that healing will take place over the next few weeks. I am anxious for me.

In all the preparation for this trip, we forgot to consider what his absence would mean for us. At the moment, our house is a mess, laundry is piled up, and we could use groceries.  I expect this week to be incredibly intense at work. It's hard not to feel like I have set myself up for failure...This is what I am anxious about.

And I should have probably spent the evening doing something about all that but we had much more important things to accomplish.

Tonight I needed our tribe.

We want to live in community. But we live in a society that doesn't value community. And I didn't grow up in a family so I don't even have any idea what I am actually doing. I am making this up as I go....

I want it to mean that we take care of each other. I want it to mean that when someone hurts, we all hurt. We do everything in our power to make things better. We love fiercely enough to fight for each other.

We celebrate each other and look for any way to be encouraging.

It means I will rearrange my life to hold yours together.

It's about grace poured out and forgiveness given even without asking.

It's not about being generous because what I have is already yours.

It's about sharing yourself, being real, and giving people the chance to love you right where you are. It's about being loved where you really are.

It's about being seen. It's about having your own fan club.

It's about saying the hard things and not being satisfied with easy answers.

It's knowing that these people will storm the gates of heaven on your behalf even when you can't manage more than a whisper.

I know this is a rare and precious gift. I know it has to be worked at. I know it has to be earned.

And sometimes I think we pull it off. And some days our intentions are just that ... we never get past what we wished we'd done.

But thankfully we have a circle, a tribe that is on this journey with us. And they love us. They love us in a way that reminds us that love is a verb. It's always a verb...

Tonight most of our tribe gathered in my in-laws house for dinner and a bit of  a farewell. Then we gathered in the living room and with our kids on the floor around us we prayed over Jason, over the team, and over the amazing plan God has for Ghana.

Listening to our friends and family pray, I couldn't help but whisper in my heart:

God for all the ways I screw them up, and parent badly, and don't love them enough...Let this be the thing that sticks. Let this be the legacy their heart holds onto. Please let this count for more than all my good intentions.

And give me chances to bless these people who hands are laid out for our family and who hearts overlap ours in this moment. Let me love them the way I want to. Completely. The way you love us. Always a verb.

There aren't words to say how completely amazed and overwhelming thankful I am for these people...and the chance to be on this journey with them.

4th of July (In case you wondered if we often wear matching patriotic tshirts)