Spur of the Moment, Sunday Evening Photo Shoot

The two year old.



The boy who never smiles for pictures.




Three months old already!



Almost four years old.




Being silly.



Stair-step line-up.



Not quite the pose I was looking for.



This is harder than it looks!




The smiles!!


Real life.


If at first, you don't succeed...


Try, try...


Again! All Eight.

Memory Ramblings...

I can only remember two Sunday School events from when I was growing up. Both were some sort of Sunday School Picnic I think. The first one was when I was probably 4 years old. We had a new (to us at least) car; a station wagon that I got to sit sideways in the back trunk area on a fold-down seat of some sort. At the picnic, there was an enormous log climbing structure or playground object that somebody got hurt on - I can't remember if it was Tina or myself, but I DO remember the little plastic clown cake balloons that my dad cheered me up with afterwards.

The other Sunday School event was either a picnic or a class treat of some sort and it occurred when I was around 12 years old. Aunt Helen had given me an old poem and asked me to memorize it to recite aloud. I had lots of time to work on it, but by the night before I was to perform my feat of memorization, I had only made it to the 16th stanza. So, I crammed all the way to the Orchard the next morning and managed to get those last 4 stanzas into my head just in time. Of course, 20+ years later, I can only recite the first 16 stanzas without peeking at the paper, but I was able to pull it off the day I had to stand up in front of everybody.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, I took Dolly out on a mama/daughter date while I had some errands to run. At some point, the poem I learned came up in our conversation and I recited what I could to her as we drove along. She was fascinated by the story being told and we spent a lot of time discussing the meaning of many of the words. Tonight, she found me as I was moving various kids through the bed-time process and told me she still remembered part of the poem and she recited the line or two that she had picked up from our date. It got me to thinking that I should put it here so I can find it easily anywhere.

After all, it was pretty much my first introduction to written poetry. I was completely captivated by the music of the words and I know that this poem greatly influenced my own writing style.

The Slave-Girl's Ransom

So beautiful, and yet a slave;
Her dark eyes flushed with shame;
Her usual soft and gentle eyes
Flashed at the cruel name.

So beautiful, so timid, wild,
Like a frightened fawn she seemed;
And 'neath her lashes, long and dark,
Her eyes with terror gleamed.

"Who bids?" the auctioneer's coarse voice
Rang through the market-place:
What shame, what terror filled her breast
And dyed her downcast face.

They bid, their voices rise and fall
On her unheeding ear,
Unconsciously she hears it all,
Yet does not seem to hear.

At last 'tis o'er, an Englishman,
With features kind and grave,
Has paid a wondrous price to buy
The beautiful, young slave.

Advancing with an eager step
And pleasure ill-concealed,
He speaks - the slave-girl stands erect;
His voice his race revealed.

"You, and an Englishman?" she cried,
Her proud lips curl with scorn;
"Unfettered by dark slavery's chain
In Britain's freedom born.

"You! whose own people come to teach
Of freedom for the soul,
And bid us live a Christ-like life
With heaven for our goal.

"You preach of freedom, life, and love,
And yet you make us slaves;
You tell us of a perfect peace-
We find it in our graves."

She paused her fierce and fiery eyes
Fixed on his face the while,
And, heedless of her bitter scorn,
He answered with a smile:

"Yes, I have bought you, but 'tis not
To make you slave to me,
I paid the price that I might have-
The power to set you free."

The fiery light died from her eyes,
The flush died from her cheek,
And silently she stood, too much
Dismayed to move or speak.

"Here is your freedom," and he placed
The gift within her hand,
"Go where you will, the ransom's paid,
'Tis all they can demand."

A moment more the proud young slave,
With mingled hopes and fears,
was kneeling contrite at his feet
With sobs and gladsome tears.

"Oh let me be your slave," she cried,
"I'd give my life for thee;
You gave me freedom, now I feel
I never can be free.

"You bind me not with iron chains,
They bind my limbs alone,
But now the stronger cords of love
Around my heart are thrown."

The fair young slave found liberty,
Yet still remained a slave,
And served with true, unfaltering love
He who her ransom gave.

So Jesus, who with greater love
And greater ransom still,
Has bought you with his own life-blood,
Poured out on Calvary's Hill,

Would seek to break the chains of sin
That bind you as a slave,
And with His tender love would win
The soul He longs to save.

Give Him who died, your love and faith,
And like the slave-girl be-
To serve Him, "faithful unto death"
Who died to set you free.

-Author Unknown

Ephesians 1:7

Tea for Two

Once Upon A Time...

On Wednesday, Dolly and I got a rare chance for a special Mommy/Daughter time at home. I've wanted to somehow arrange some one-on-one time with each of my kids for a while now. Ideally, I'd like to take one of them out for the day and do some window shopping or fun shopping or lunch alone or some adventure with just the two of us. But I haven't figured out a system that will work yet.

This week, it seemed like 3 hours just plopped out of the sky for Dolly and me to have a special afternoon. PC was at a friend's house and was still gone for the afternoon, Grandma C. stopped by and took Emma out for some special Grandma&Me time and Butler, Ricka and Hal were down and out for naps(you know you haven't blogged about your infant much when you have to go look up the blog name you picked out for him way back when! Because you couldn't remember it on your own after three days of pondering it!). Suddenly Dolly and I found ourselves with no distractions and a long, lazy afternoon stretched out in front of us.

So, we decided to have Tea for Two outside on the deck.


We even dressed up for the occasion. And posed for pictures.


Dolly took this one.


And I never realized how hard it was to take a picture of yourself! Centered? What's that? 3 Chins? I was pretty sure there's only supposed to be two of them. Look at the camera? We were - why does it look like we're looking over our shoulders again! Eventually we figured it out.


The challenges of Biscotti and Gloves!

It really was a lot of fun. I loved to see Dolly so excited and it was wonderful not having a million interruptions intruding on us. When I first realized that it would just be Dolly and me for the afternoon, I asked her if she wanted to have a cup of tea with me. Once I got her attention away from the book she had settled down with on the couch, she jumped at the idea. She had been asking me for a cup of tea on and off for a few days. It's just been so warm out that a hot cup of tea didn't exactly sound appealing to me.

I got to surprise her over and over again; first by having her choose some pretty tea cups out of the dish hutch (we usually just use plain old coffee mugs at the dining room table). I got to surprise her again by setting up the table outside. Once the table was set, I surprised her a third time by adding snacks to our tea menu. And finally, she was surprised that we were going to dress up all the way to necklaces and perfume just for tea by ourselves. She chattered the whole time, and we each had at least 3 cups of tea before the clock stuck twelve and we had to start putting everything back the way it usually is. But even the cleanup was a thrill for Dolly, because we didn't want to disappoint the other kids by having them see the evidence of our afternoon and the realization of what they missed out on. It was especially heart-racing since Butler woke up before the last of the table outside was cleared. He was still waking up though, so he didn't notice Dolly's suspicious behavior as she darted in the house with a wad of table cloths behind her back or sidled past him with the empty teapot disguised by a dishtowel draped over it.

And then the fairy tale ended and we had to return to Real Life where we all lived Normally-Ever-After.
The End.

September 2007...

"I think that move is not allowed."

4 weeks and 200 pictures later....

This is the only proof that my mom was ever here.

And it was taken about one hour before she went home.

I guess the other proof of her visit would be the fact that I still have some of my sanity.

Ricka was due June 19th. Toward the end of May, my mom called me and said she was thinking of coming up to help us around when the baby was born, but everything depended on schedules and doctor's appointments down in California and she'd get back to me around the 1st of June. I was ecstatic - it really sounded like she might actually make it up here, but knowing from past experience, nothing is set in stone.

Of course, I heard nothing on the 1st, and started talking myself into the idea that something could always come up and it was possible that my mom might not make it up here after all. I didn't want to get my hopes up too high.

On June 2nd, my mom called back and it was planned. She was going to come up here and stay at least THREE weeks starting around the 13th! It was like an impossible dream and I was so excited....

(and that is as far as I got on this two weeks ago.)

Anyway, On June 3rd, Sir's mom, Grandma C. got hit by a car while riding home on her bike. She spent the next few weeks in the hospital getting surgeries and scans and all sorts of stuff to start fixing all the things that were broken. She's still recovering, but at home now and we're very thankful for that because the accident was pretty serious.

Previously, each time one of our children has joined the family, Grandma and Grandpa C. have taken the older children while we were in the hospital and then Grandma C. would come nearly every day during the first week or so to help me get adjusted to all the changes one more little one brings. So, when Grandma C. was going to be recovering for months after our baby was due, it was even more of a relief that my mom was planning on being here to be a help.

3 days old.

My mom came up as soon as we told her Ricka was born and she stayed four whole weeks. I don't think I'll ever be able to describe how much of a help she was. Dolly was still in school for 14 days after Ricka was born, and when I'd trip out of my room in a panic because I'd missed the alarm and was already 20 minutes behind schedule, I'd find that my mom had already gotten Dolly up, served her breakfast and was making her lunch. Then she'd shoo me back to bed while she'd get the rest of the kids going and Sir took Dolly to school.

She did the big things like mowed our huge backyard and the front yard in a single morning (this job usually takes me about two days due to my allergies) and stacking piles of wood that I'd given up on toward the end of my pregnancy. She did the little things like making sure the table got cleared and wiped off after each meal, the floors swept and the kids dressed. When I woke up from a terribly needed nap one afternoon in a complete panic because I'd forgotten to make any plans for dinner, I staggered into the kitchen to find she'd warmed up every last leftover in the fridge and dinner was just about ready - at dinner time.

11 days old.

Every morning she got the kids to make their beds and by the time she left, they could do it themselves on their own. In spite of Butler saying "NAOooo" to just about everything she asked him to do, I discovered after she'd gone home that he not only would say 'pease' when he wanted something but 'prih-ee pease' (pretty please) - and that just about made me melt because it's as close to a signature phrase belonging to my mom as you can get.

7 days old

As my mom was loading her suitcases into her van, Emma said to me, "Mommy, is Grandma going back to California?" "Yes," I told her watching Emma carefully. Emma had developed a very special relationship with my mom and I was a bit worried how she'd adjust when my mom left. "She has a booster seat in her van, and the back seat can go down, and you can put car seats on it. You know that, Mommy?" Emma said. "I know," I answered, "that's pretty neat isn't it?" "Yeah, can I go with her to her house and have a sleepover?" "No Emma, Grandma's house is a long ways away. If you went with her you'd be gone too long." with a little shrug of acceptance, Emma said, "That's ok. Can I go with her then?" It was hard to watch her little face fall when she finally understood she couldn't go home with Grandma.

In the four weeks my mom was here, Sir and I got to go out on a 'date' 3 (THREE!) times and we spent one Saturday morning running errands together - something we NEVER do anymore since someone usually stays home with the kids. It was really special and the best part was, we never asked her if she'd mind watching the kids so we could go out... she was the one sending us out. "Why don't you guys go out for dinner and I'll feed the kids?" or "If he's going to go do errands, why don't you run with him? I'll stay here and the kids can help me with..." If she'd had her way, we would have probably gone out a few more times too, but we figured we ought to be a bit responsible every now and then.

4 days old.

By the last week, I realized I was letting my mom take care of things for me that I was perfectly able to do. I just knew she'd do it for me if I didn't get to it before she did. But there were still times that she filled in for me when I couldn't get to it, and those times made me afraid of when she'd finally go home. But we've been adjusting, the kid in the bathroom sometimes has to wait for me to finish nursing the baby before I get to them, the baby has to put up with another kid trying to get the soother into her mouth because I can't stop what I'm doing to burp her again, the house goes in waves of being relatively tidy to disastrous mayhem, but we're slowly getting that under control now too.

Since all the things my mom did for us would take forever to list, I came up with everything I could think of that she might have gotten from her time here with us instead. It's really not that much.
While my mom was here..
- she got to go to a couple of Dolly's school events.
- she got to see Dolly graduate from kindergarten.
- she was there when Dolly lost her first tooth.
- she was here for PC's 5th birthday party.
- she was here for Butler's first stitches.
- she got to go to Ricka's baby shower.
- and she got to have Emma as a constant shadow helper.

I guess to sum it all up... I'll never be able to express how much my moms mean to me. Both of them. Maybe someday I'll be a little bit like them.

11 days old.

Some Things are Inherited

Me (the oldest) about 7 yrs old and Tina (next in line) who I'd tricked into crawling into the cage before gleefully locking her in.


No comment necessary.


"That should keep you in there, brother."


"Oh - Hi Mom,"


I couldn't resist. They were all in there and the door was just begging to be closed. Don't worry, I let them out eventually.

And Someday... I'll miss this.

Saturday (Family Project Day):
11am.
Of course, I try to do what any non-pregnant person would do and after a couple hours, my body is screaming at me to remember that I'm actually six months pregnant and not made to do normal activities for the time being.
1pm.
I finally get lunch made, and everyone called. Sitting down for half an hour causes amnesia to set in, and after lunch we get back to work. Then it's time to start putting kids down for naps. They have to go down in phases or else they keep each other awake all afternoon.
3:30.
All the kids are in bed for naps (they're not all asleep yet). Sir convinces me that I should take a nap too. My body agrees. I know it's no used trying to sleep while some kids are still awake and spend more time keeping myself awake anticipating no nap because of it. Finally, I crash.
5:30.
I wake up. At least I was smart enough to think about dinner at lunch time, and know what I'm going to make. I can't believe the kids are just starting to wake up! It's been ages since I got that good of a nap in. The kids all wake up and I finally get started on dinner.
7pm.
At last! Dinner is served. The kids love it for a change and they take forever to be done in order to stuff at much into their little tummies as possible. But it's Saturday night - they need baths, I need to whiz through the house on a 'tidy mission'.
8:15.
I draw the bath, order them to pick up the worst of the stuff on the floors in their bedrooms, and then plop them all into the tub. They play/fight/splash/etc. while I sweep the kids' bedrooms and the living room. Then I scrub Butler up, dress him for bed, give him his toothbrush and send him to Sir. Clean the bathroom mirror. Scrub PC up and send him out to get ready for bed. Clean the toilet. Scrub Dolly up and send her to get ready for bed. Clean the bathroom counter. Scrub Emma up, send her to get ready for bed. Drain the tub. Oversee the bedtime process.
Late.
The kids are all in bed, and are asleep. The house is presentable. My Sunday school class work is prepared, I know what I'll make for lunch on Sunday. It's been forever quite a while since Sir and I had a 'date' so I leave the next day's lunch for the morning, and I make a spicy shrimp appetizer snack and we stay up another hour watching a video.
Very late.
We go to bed.

2:36am.
"Mama!" I struggle to consciousness and follow the summons. It's PC.
PC: Mama, Butler was calling you.
He was? I didn't hear anything. And I know the monitor is on. I check on Butler. He'd lost his soother. I tuck him in, and tuck PC in too. I go back to bed.
3am.
"Mama!" It's PC again.
Me: What's wrong, PC?
PC: I'm scared. I need my promise.
I go find an old car key, loop a ribbon through it and give it to him since I'm not about to go looking for his other key at this time of night. Then I tuck him in, re-tuck Butler and stagger back to bed.
3:38am.
"Mama!" Again - PC. I stay in bed hoping he'll settle down on his own. Instead, 50 seconds later, he's standing next to my bed tapping my shoulder.
PC: Mommy, I's scared.
Me: You're scared of what, PC?
PC: I don't know.
I'm about to lose all semblance of sanity. The spicy appetizer is not agreeing with my getting up and down so many times and I'm considering the whole bottle of Tums as an option.
Me: PC. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong!
He starts to cry. Sir realizes I'm past the 'I need some help' stage, and takes over.
Sir: What's wrong, PC?
PC: I'm scared.
Sir: Of what?
PC: I don't know. And my mouth hurts... a lot.
At this point I realize he probably has a sore throat. I'd been battling one for the last couple days. I mention it to Sir as they head back to the boys room. Sir tucks the boys into bed again and comes back to bed. I'm so tired that I'm in tears. I don't believe we've seen the end of our nocturnal visitors.
4am.
Emma stands at my bedside, taps my shoulder and cheerfully asks, "Mommy, can I get up?!
Me: No. Go back to bed, it's still night time.
She bursts into tears and I follow her back to the girls room. As she crawls back into bed, PC pops his head out of the boys room.
Me: Why are you out of bed again?
PC: I heard somebody was up.
Me: Nobody's staying up. Go back to bed.
I tuck Emma in and head to the boys room to re-tuck PC. Butler is standing up in his crib as if he expects to get up for the day too. I tuck the boys into bed and go back to bed nearly sobbing because there's only a little over 3 hours left until the alarm goes off. Sir spends the next 20 minutes calming me down.
4:30ish.
I looked at the clock one last time. If the kids called after that, I never heard them. At least none of them came tapping on my shoulder that I know of.

Epilogue:
It's hard to believe that someday I could miss nights like this. Maybe I won't remember them. Right now, I'm just going to go to sleep. Only Butler took a good nap today, so hopefully the kids will be too tired themselves, to come visiting tonight!

THE END

Today, I Didn't Cry.

Dear Dolly,

'They' say, when your firstborn goes away to school, that you cry. Today was your first day at school all by yourself. We met your teacher yesterday and everything changed in our lives.

To be honest, I've been dreading this day all year long. Every day that's gone by, I've thought about it. I've thought about the times we've done 'schoolwork' together, the times you've read to me, the letters you've spent hours on for writing practice. I've thought about this being the last summer before you'd have to go away to school. No more slow mornings and late breakfasts. No more spur of the moment, last minute plans for the day, no more late nights because we could recover the next day. And the days kept marching by.

This morning Emma got up early enough to eat breakfast with you. The boys barely made it out of bed and into the car by the time we had to go. She even chose to have the same kind of cereal that you had. It made me smile a little.

When we got to school, you didn't see the point in us waiting for you to go inside. You would have been the first in line if I hadn't made you hold still for a picture. I didn't want to take pictures, but I knew we'd want to see what your first day of school looked like someday. Emma wanted to stand in line with you, and she hardly left your elbow before your teacher came out and started giving directions.

That's when PC and Emma gave you a hug and you lined up with your classmates for the first time. Next week you'll meet the second half of your class, but out of the students we saw today, you were the only blond. My girl of gold. I must give your teacher credit, she did well organizing her students - even the ones who needed more organizing than the rest. It wasn't too long before you all made it up the stairs and the four of us were left standing outside. We'd be back soon, because this week, your school days are mere hours - just over an hour each day to be exact. Next week will see longer classroom time. Next week.

When we picked you up, you had your first paper to take home. You'd glued a cutout of your hand to it and there was a poem printed on the back side of paper. Poetry is bad for me. It has music - it has feeling. They're not just ordinary words because they've been carefully chosen so that they run smoothly together. That little poem with your hand print on the back almost had me today. My eyes welled up as I read it to you when you showed me your work, but I blinked them back to normal.

When I was a little girl my dream was to grow up, get married and be a mom. As I got older, that dream never changed, but I discovered I loved to teach and I dreamt of being a teacher too. Then I grew up, got married, and became a mom and I dreamt of being your teacher. So, today when I watched you climb up the steps I had to realize the fact that some dreams don't mix no matter how much you want them to.

I love you Dolly, and I'll be smiling for you as you go on to learn at school. I have the times we had before today to remember learning with you. They make me smile.

So today, I didn't cry.

Love Always,
~Mama

Like Mother.... Like Daughter.

(1983/1984)


(2006)

It's hereditary.

Still in the 70's

Sometime between June of 1974 and December of 1978 the Messages of the Love of God came out with some changes. This style brings back so many memories for me as it was the 'original' Sunday school paper of my childhood. Again, you'll need to click on the images to read each page.

Page 1

Color! The most noticeable change is the banner background of clouds in a blue sky. Also, the memory verse moved to a fixed place on the front page. Previously it went wherever there was room for it.

Page 2 ........ and ........ Page 3

Page 4