Lessons in Grace

Shame on me. Almost nine whole months since my last post.

We are on Christmas break. I have a few seconds more in my day than I usually do.

Which means that the random ramblings which roll through my mind during the day can find their way to this little blog.

Let's see, since my last post in April, I've given birth to my sixth baby, my fourth girl. Eleanor Mae arrived mid-May and has stolen the heart of every member of this family.

We have returned to homeschooling. My, what a challenge it has been. Mostly because I am selfish and I want a clean house and to teach my kids without interruption. That will never happen as my head says it shall, and the sooner I get over it, the better off we will be.

Having six kids has humbled me. Oh, how it has humbled me. I need God's grace.

Finding a daily groove is hard. But I can do it. I will get through that part. But the weight of the responsibility for six lives, six souls, is what is often too much for me to bear. It crushes me and keeps me awake at night.

I want what is best for my children. Who doesn't? I want them to eat well and to grow with strong bodies and sound minds. I want them to love each other, and respect me their whole life long. I want them to find the one that was created for them, to love them and cherish them, and to become parents themselves.

But mostly, more than anything, I want them to love Jesus.

And the lesson has been that my job, my biggest job, is to show them what that's like. To show them what a blessing it is to love Jesus. To be so deeply in love with Him myself that they can't help but want Him.

Help me, Jesus!

We DID IT!

above pic: just beyond the finish line

Saturday morning, I jogged through my first 10K. I know that there are women out there that run marathons while pregnant, and the 6.2 miles that I got through would be nothing for them. But it was far from nothing for me. At 35 weeks pregnant, it was one of the greatest physical challenges I've ever experienced. I loved/hated every second of it.

When it was over, I compared the mental challenge of finishing to that of labor. It was such a mind game, and I moved much slower than I would have in a non-pregnant state. But I finished it.

I prayed through much of the race. There was a man that we passed at around mile 1 and then again at around mile 5, a Christian R & B singer/rapper, singing and preaching to the crowd. When we passed him at mile 5, he was shouting, "the joy of the Lord is your strength", over and over. Thank you, God, for that man!

There is something divine about the fact that Friday was one of those, "I give up; I can't do this" days in which Greg came home to a crying wife. God knows. Because Saturday, as I crossed the finish line, I was close to tears. I did it. I can do it. Thank you, Jesus!

I'm not sure what meant the most...

that I finished it at all, baby lodged between my hips the whole time,

that one of our closest friends drove an hour to be a good sport & run along with us,

that Greg (a total non-runner, always hated it) remained at my side the whole time, even though, after weeks of training, he could have left me in his dust,

or that my Emily, 10, ran it and totally kicked my butt, beating me by seven minutes. *so proud*

I'm just happy to relive those last ten seconds of sprinting (as close to sprinting as I can) to the finish line, feeling Greg slip behind me on purpose to let me cross first. And then his arm around me...

We did it.

The Greatest Challenge

Goodness, it's been a while since my last post. A whole trimester, technically. (You know you've been pregnant a lot when you base time on "trimesters".)

I watched a show recently where there was a woman about to have her seventh child. She was begging the doctor to make sure this baby was her last. She pleaded, explaining that she had been hospitalized in the past because she was dehydrated, too busy to drink a sip of water for three days.

Now, really, it was a bit ridiculous to hear, but something about seeing this fictitious woman whine about her life allowed my heart to go to a very tempting place: the abyss of self-pity.

I'm tired.

I have a lot on my plate.

I'm having a hard time juggling.

I don't think that there has ever been a period of time when I've told my husband more often how exhausted I am, or cried to God that I needed strength. But there is a strange pattern in this house where, by God's grace, a bad day is always followed by a good day. So we roll up our sleeves and press on, praying that we don't mess up these little lives we've been entrusted with.

It works. Sometimes it's hard...REALLY hard...but we're okay. We are blessed.

"Be content with what you have, for I will never leave you or forsake you." Hebrews 13:5

It's no coincidence that this quote came to me recently:

"Not a morbid martyr complex but a peaceful and happy contentment in the assurance that goodness and mercy follow all the days of our lives. Wouldn't our children learn godliness if they saw the example of contentment instead of complaint? Acceptance instead of rebellion? Peace instead of frustration?"
Elizabeth Elliott, "Keep A Quiet Heart"

Am I the character on the TV show, needing sympathy, full of frustration? Do my children see me that way? Do I see myself that way? God, help me when I do.

It's not easy to be full of contentment. On the way to the Promised Land, how many times were the Israelites chastised for murmuring? On the way to the Promised Land!?

I'm 34 weeks pregnant. I'm tired. I'm feeling like the cup is always half-empty lately.

But I have much to be grateful for. I am on my way to the Promised Land. God has been good. I pray that my husband and children find me full of contentment and not self-pity.

I can. I will. I am grateful for the opportunity to experience His grace for another day.

How deep the Father's love for us,

How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory

Stuart Townend

Tiny Dancer

Humbled.

Undeserving.

Thankful.

We saw baby #6 dance across the ultrasound screen today. Just as much as with the first, I was amazed at how the tiny little taps I feel in my belly become so real after seeing baby's face. This little person will one day smile at me, reach for me, tell me their dreams...and I got to see the first glimpses of them today.

My heart is overwhelmed. Christmas, though difficult with a husband with the flu, was beautiful. God's grace is so real right now. I've lost my dad, tried to grow up too fast, had marriage struggles, dealt with insecurity as a mom, but in the end, He has given much, and I am undeserving. Because of His grace, I have more than I could ever ask for. And nothing else matters. Truly, nothing else matters.

With each little blessing that He's given me (and by that, I mean child), He has melted me more & more. Where I was once cold and angry, I am content. I am learning how to trust and love my Heavenly Father, my husband, and my role as a mother. For those three things, I am most grateful.

Now, each of my pregnancies have been quite predictable. I feel exactly the same with each girl baby, and exactly the same with each boy baby.

But this little one threw me for a loop. I was SURE it was a boy...

But, in May, we will welcome our fourth baby girl.

And, for the first time, today, I saw her dance.

"now she's in me, always with me,

tiny dancer in my hands...

But, oh, how it feels so real

Lying here with no one near

Only you, and you can hear me

When I say softly, slowly...

Hold me closer, tiny dancer...

...you had a busy day today..."

-elton john

See you soon, little one...

Gone so long...

Today is my dad's 57th birthday. His last birthday celebrated on earth was his 44th.

I miss him. I miss him. I miss him.

The worst part about missing him these days is that I'm starting to realize that, what I knew was inevitable, is happening. It has been SO long that he's been gone. I know life without him far better than I remember life with him. And I remember that first year, realizing that I'd feel that way some day. It stinks.

He wasn't there when I came home, ready to show off my new engagement ring on my 20th birthday. I didn't walk him through my first home as I awaited my wedding. And, as blessed as I was to have my brother walk me down the aisle, I remember waiting at the back of the church, aching for my dad's arm to grab on to.

Those events were SO long ago...and it's been all this time, all this life lived, without him here.

I can't imagine the thrill I'd feel to watch him with my Emily, his first grandchild. Or hear him teach Kaleb and Levi everything there is to know about every major league baseball player that's ever played. And, oh, man...he'd love Avery's quirky, pretty personality. And my sweet Nadie would love his singing. He had the sweetest voice.

As I await the arrival of this baby, I also anticipate the bittersweet moments that follow the birth of each of my babies. Because, every single time, my first thought is, "Thank God you are OUT!" My second thought is, "You are beautiful and we are blessed."

And my third, "I wonder if Dad can see..."

Happy birthday, Dad. I carry you with me always.

*photo above: me & my dad, 1982? with a little added design from one of my kids

Better every day...

Sweet baby, I am glad you're there. And I'm glad you're growing. You are officially the size of a Nutter Butter, one of my favorite treats.

I'm especially glad that we are getting out of our first trimester together. We passed the 13-week mark this past weekend.

It has been rough.

I spent three weeks feeling like I was on another planet, overwhelmed with my household and taken over by fatigue and nausea. I finally figured out my biggest problem: I was drugging myself. Yes, this pregnant mama was taking Unisom (doctor's orders!) for nausea, and it took me three weeks to figure out that a sleeping pill just might be making me sleepy.

The day I stopped taking it, my world changed. I wanted to be a part of life again. I started to grow more excited about all that we need to do to prepare for this baby.

Top two on our priority list:

1. Rotate most of the kids to different bedrooms (redecorating two of them) to make room for another little guy. (Yes, I think it's a boy!)

2. Get an 8-passenger vehicle.

I am looking forward to both. Especially the redecorating part.

Here we go, baby...

Love BEFORE first sight...again

That's right...I get to do it again.

If you follow me, you know that we have felt quite blessed and quite satisfied with our house full 'o five kiddos. Our fifth was a surprise that took some getting used to. But, my oh my, were we ever in love with her by the time she arrived!

We learned a lot.

Like trusting that God has all things under His control.

That's how we know that we can rest and feel secure at our latest bit of news:

Yes, we are growing. This spring, we will welcome baby #6 to our brood.

If you follow me, you also know that I am obsessed with pregnancy & childbirth. I am in training to become a doula (and yes, I am still following through with the training).

I love the process of falling in love with a person before you ever even see his/her face. I love knowing that person is always with me, growing inside of me. And I love, love, love that moment when we meet.

And I am blessed, thankful, humbled to say, we are doing it again.

God is good.

Many, O Lord my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you have planned for us, no one can recount to you. Were I to speak of them, they would be too many for me to declare. Ps. 40:5

Crafty...

I started scrapbooking when my oldest was just under one year old.

I captured the first six months of her life.

That was over nine years ago, and I've yet to capture anything else from her childhood or any of my other four children's. It's sad.

This would help a LOT!

My new favorite house ever

I am such a sucker for DIY home decorator blogs. I find them so inspiring.

I just found one that may be my favorite design ever.

My favorite room: her master bath. So pretty. So Anthropologie.

My favorite kinds of houses look like modern cottages on the outside, full of pretty details and flowers. Just like the outside of theirs:

I'm going to try not to covet too much.

Do you have a favorite home blog?

We're all grown up...

I have much to share and much I still will, soon, but it is of utmost importance to mention how I spent last week.

One of my oldest, dearest friends came to Richmond.

Aahhh....

The same girl that I remember giggling with late at night, as my dad threatened to take away my sleepover rights unless we "got to sleep!" was here, with her family.

It was something I've waited for since we moved here, four years ago.

I've wanted to share simple things with her, like where I cook my meals, where I do my grocery shopping, which Target I frequent.

And, even more, I wanted to share with her why we are in love with our new hometown. The history. The funky shops & restaurants. The beach. The mountains. The river. And all of the other perks of being a Virginia resident. She got it. She saw it. She loved it.

I had the privilege of spending a day with her kids while she and her husband took a quick trip to Charlottesville. At the end of that day, I was truly emotional. I got to read a story to my 3 year old girl and her 4 year old boy, who became quite special friends by the end of the trip. I got to "put to sleep" her little girl, who looks just like her, by snuggling her until she slept. Even the fights between our two year olds was sweet, because, when she yelled at my son, she called him "Buddy".

It was irreplaceable to see our children really become friends, and to spend more than our typical, yearly three hours together.

I can still see them holding hands and walking through the mall together...

What you take away

What have you learned from your mother?

Every day, I think about what I would like my kids to take from their childhood. There are a few things that I hope that they will never forget.

For example:

Your parents will love you and forgive you always.

You are never to old to be held.

The opinion of others doesn't matter. The only opinion you should care about is that of your Heavenly Father.

Whenever you want to show someone how much you love them, make them something. Learn to sew for this reason. Learn to cook for this reason. Nothing means as much as it does if you made it yourself.

I hope that, each day, more and more, this advice becomes real to my children. I hope that I can be a good example of someone who cherishes people more than things. I hope they know how much they have changed me.

Oh, how I love them...

Just a few more hours, please?

I have so many things that I wish I had the time and energy to do/make these days. Just need a few more hours in the day, or a body that requires less sleep.

One of my favorite websites, Prudent Baby, inspired me with this post. I made my own easy version as a gift today. Here she is:

I want one for myself. So soft & snuggly.

Now, I'm dying to make this. Think I'll find the time?

The REAL Labor Day!

Here's to LABOR day. I am thinking of all of my babies and considering the celebration of MY Labor Days: the day of each of their arrivals. Every second of the pain that my body experienced to bring you all into this world was worth the joy of seeing your faces for the first time, if even for a moment. And I have been blessed with many, many more moments gazing upon your beautiful, chubby, growing smiles.

If I could go back, I would go through labor all over again. The five days I spent experiencing your births were the five most glorious days of my life.

Happy Labor Day to every mama out there. Take a moment to think about the day(s) you welcomed your child(ren) into the world. Celebrate TRUE labor.

Not afraid to do it all

Lots going on around here at the J House.

Hence the lack of posts!

Special family has moved into town. Preparations for second and fifth grade. Last bits of pool time. Soccer is officially on. I attended my first birth that will count towards my doula certification. (more on that to come!)

Life happens so fast. I have no idea where the summer went.

I just saw a great idea that I must share and must do myself. Corey from Life with Little Ones shows her way of reminding herself of her "hearts desires" in this post.

Let's not forget to take time to dream. And to live out those dreams with the ones we love.

The way things change

I've written several times about how differently I'm parenting my youngest kids than I did my first two.

See, my older ones were 6 and 4 when we got started again. Not old by any means, but the second round of babies were 17 months apart and then 14 months apart. So having a 4-year break sounds huge for me now.

I don't think I was ever really high-strung, but being surrounded by laid-back mamas and having a big family will force anyone to chill out a bit.

At Christmastime, 2006, my older son was 4. My husband started talking about how badly he wanted to get him a gun & holster, like a cowboy. I argued and argued. "We can't teach him that violence is okay, that it's cool! A GUN???"

(sidenote: I'm not making any political statements about the second amendment here. That's not the point...)

Christmas came. My son opened a present and found the guns inside of their holsters, fake gunshot sounds & lights amazing him. He LOVED them. I sat there praying that he wouldn't become a murderer someday.

Today, my big boy is almost 8. He doesn't talk obsessively about killing people, by the way.

My little boy is 2.

And on any given day, you can find my little guy running up to me with a light sabre or toy gun or stick, yelling, "Mommy, I kill you!"

And I'm not cringing, not praying that he won't really kill me one day. I'm falling to the ground, holding my side in pretend agony, howling about how he "GOT ME!" and then jumping up and "killing" him.

Oh, gracious...

Getting closer!

I've finally got some "after pictures". Boy oh boy, it's been a long time coming.

Poor Greg has been working 45-50 hours a week, and spending his weekends on a ladder with a brush in hand. But it's been worth it. Our little trilevel cottage at the pond is almost finished.

I want to remind you of the before:

And, now, finally, some "afters"...

And, yes, our door is bright lime green!

Here is the before:

and after...

Ever since we moved to Richmond, we've been eyeing these storm doors that are on every other house in one of our favorite parts of town. Well, we GOT one. Love it!

and, I know that this one's hard to see, but here is the landscaping before:

(plus a couple of cute kids on their first day of school!)

and after:

Progress, part 2

If you didn't read this post, I should start by saying that we are amidst a lot of changes around here.

Aside from doubling our family size in the last four years, we've gone from owning a home in Western New York, to living with my mom for six months with two kids, to living in an 1100 sq. ft. apartment here in Richmond, to owning and changing our new home.

It's been quite a ride.

At this point, we're done with the major cleanup that required two years of our time. Seriously, two years. This property was a mess.

This year has been all about planting and painting and slowly seeing progress.

I'm still not ready to show the "after" picture, but here's a peek at one little minor detail:

It's amazing what a silly little thing like a light fixture can do to change things up.

Here is the ugly, dated, before:

and the after:

I'm not sure why the paint color looks so different; it's not...

Maybe it's the aura of our new, fun light!

Nadia Claire

One year ago today, we welcomed our fifth and final baby into the world.

She is proof that God knows best.

Learning that I was pregnant with her was not the joyful experience that I've had with my other kids. Seeing those two little lines on the stick was still tear-jerking, but more like how-are-we-going-to-do-this-please-help-me-survive-God than the romantic tears we've cried seeing them before.

We were done.

Beyond done.

It's a good thing that it's God's design for us to be pregnant for nine months, because over the course of that amount of time, I surrendered and fell hopelessly in love with my surprise baby. What a gift to experience life inside of me once more.

By the time she was born and I saw her face for the first time, I had forgotten about how scared I was at the thought of another baby.

She was mine. And I loved her just as much as I did my others.

I heard a quote once, a long time ago. It was in an email about things that you shouldn't assume or something of that nature. It went something like this: "If you think you can't love your fifth child as much as your first, talk to a mother of five kids."

No lie. It said five kids. And it stuck with me (now I know why).

"Nadia" is slavic for "hope".

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" --Jeremiah 29:11

When you think you know what you want, remember that God knows what lies ahead. Trust that He will bring it to past and that you will be delighted with what He has for you.

I know I am.

Progress

It's happening...

Slowly but surely, it's happening.

When we moved into our house, three years ago, we were a happy little fam of five. With a seven year old, five year old, and an infant, I could somewhat envision how our messy property and dated house could become potentially-perfect for us.

Then I got pregnant.

Then I got pregnant again.

Now, our house seems smaller, and projects take much more effort and determination to complete. Potential was much harder to see, much less carry out.

But it's happening.

A few months back, I posted this picture of our house, the way it looked when we bought it:

The work has been endless. And isn't easy with three kids three and under running around! We've been busy rebuilding the wall of the pond so that the house doesn't one day fall into it. (There are now posts where a picket fence will one day be.)

Ripping out shrubs. Replacing shrubs. Building brick walls. Ripping out fences. Knocking down sheds. Grading the land and planting grass.

Up until this year, it was hard to see the improvement. Greg's a big "behind the scenes" kind of guy. (Straightens closets when the house needs to be cleaned, that sort of thing.) It's good, though. He clears and straightens the canvas so that the final painting will look its best. That's hard for me when I want to just change everything and see results.

Since we're nowhere near done, I have been hesitant to post an update. But I have gotten yelled at for posting "before" pictures without any "afters". So how about some "during"s? This is what the house looks like today:

*forgive the sun & shadows; I'm still taking Photo Booth pics on my laptop, without my camera :(

As you can see by the ladder out front, we're amidst continual painting. The door color will change (the color may shock you!) And we're putting in the one piece that I have been dreaming about since we moved to Virginia...a Richmond storm door. Keep checking to see the final reveal on my little FULL house!

yikes

under construction...this blog's a mess! please excuse...j crew mama has been playing around and doesn't have time to clean up her mess...

bad mama...