Dear Lizzie,
Well, we are tearing up your house again. Sometimes I am overwhelmed at the amount of work this is going to be, sometimes I am just excited to see what it will become. Today I was wondering how much trepidation you had has you traveled to Kansas; to this house. Did you wonder what it would look like? Were you wondering what you had gotten yourself into? Did you fear leaving the city to head out to the wild prairie? I am looking around at what is a total mess at this point, and wondering what we have gotten ourselves into. I am not a patient person and I usually want a mess gone five minutes ago. I know this will take time, and someday our little family of six will occupy these walls. I figure if you can come do it at the time you did, than surely I need to give it a try. I think the challenges will make us stronger. I am happy to think that while I am here I can think of what you did each day so many years ago. Truth be told I am happy we are rehabbing this place. It would be sad to see it go empty after all these years. This past Christmas was the first Christmas that no one was here since the house was built. Or did you travel some Christmas? Anyway, it seemed so lonely.
We are busy making it ours like all the generations before us. It will be interesting to see how long it is home for us, and if we will be the last.
Yours Truly,
Charity
Thursday, December 30, 2010
This is Who I am, Mom
Oh, my little girl! I just love her so. Yes, I love her brothers to death too. I just waited so long for my little princess, and she was so worth the wait. I am so fascinated at the differences between her and her rowdy brothers. I love that she knows who she is, and feels no need to change it for anyone. Hold onto that, sweet girl. Here are some of the things I love about Claire - some of which are driving me crazy even as I shake my head in infatuated amazement.
She still refuses to walk. She is 16 months old and just won't do it. She cruises like a pro, can pull up, and is an accomplished climber. She has taken a few steps a couple of times and when she realizes she has done it she falls to the floor as fast as she can lest anyone know she has done it! She loves to "walk", and will take your hands and ask to do it. What she wants is to have her hand held the whole time. When you let go, she slowly sits down as she says "uh oh!!". I always thought "uh oh!" was for a dropped item or an emergency, not a controlled and purposeful decent to the floor.
We got her a ride on toy for Christmas. She calls it her "car", and says "rum rum!" when she wants to go fast. She found out right away that her brother Noah loves to push her fast. She also learned to put her feat out when going around corners so she doesn't fly off due to centrifugal force. The faster the better, and she will even go to Noah and say, "rum rum!!!". That is his cue to give her a ride. She is probably going to want to date a guy with a motorcycle. Sigh.
Her vocabulary grows by leaps and bounds each weak. She blows her brothers away at comparative ages when it comes to language. We try hard to teach her the appropriate names for things and she understands so much of what you say. She loves cats. I only say "cat" to her, not kitty. Mom and day have three farm cats so she sees a cat most days. For the longest time she would only say, "meow" when she saw a cat, and not say the name of the animal. I would just say, "yes, the cat says, meow" each time. So the other day she sees a cat on TV and starts saying, "kitty." Kitty? Really? After all this time of saying cat and only hearing the word "kitty" like twice from dada? I said "cat" and she looked at me and said "kitty", and then laughed.
She says mama and dada all the time. However, when she wants our attention and has something important to say to us, we become mom and dad. "Mom!" she will say to me, waiting for me to look at her. The she will continue to tell me whatever it is she needs me to know.
She calls Papa Tim, "papa ta." She has said "grama" a few times. She knows which brother is which, but refuses to say their names. Our nickname for Silas is "Booger." The other day she started calling him that. If I say "Is that Silas?", she will smile and say, "Booger!" If I yell at Silas when he is upstairs, she will promptly say, "Booger!!"
She loves her cheese!! When she is hungry she will go to the fridge and say, "cheese!!", and do a little cheese dance. I love it. I hope she never stops.
She loves music and loves to dance. She says, "ic! ic! ic!" which is how she says music. She shakes that sweet little head and bops her whole body. It is my favorite thing to watch.
One more thing for now. She refuses to say "chair." She says "down." Because you sit down in a chair. No matter how many times I say "chair", she always says, "down!".
OK, baby girl. You win. You be who you want to be and I will love you more for it. You are smart, beautiful, funny, and caring. I want you to stay little, but I can't wait to see who you are when you grow up.
She still refuses to walk. She is 16 months old and just won't do it. She cruises like a pro, can pull up, and is an accomplished climber. She has taken a few steps a couple of times and when she realizes she has done it she falls to the floor as fast as she can lest anyone know she has done it! She loves to "walk", and will take your hands and ask to do it. What she wants is to have her hand held the whole time. When you let go, she slowly sits down as she says "uh oh!!". I always thought "uh oh!" was for a dropped item or an emergency, not a controlled and purposeful decent to the floor.
We got her a ride on toy for Christmas. She calls it her "car", and says "rum rum!" when she wants to go fast. She found out right away that her brother Noah loves to push her fast. She also learned to put her feat out when going around corners so she doesn't fly off due to centrifugal force. The faster the better, and she will even go to Noah and say, "rum rum!!!". That is his cue to give her a ride. She is probably going to want to date a guy with a motorcycle. Sigh.
Her vocabulary grows by leaps and bounds each weak. She blows her brothers away at comparative ages when it comes to language. We try hard to teach her the appropriate names for things and she understands so much of what you say. She loves cats. I only say "cat" to her, not kitty. Mom and day have three farm cats so she sees a cat most days. For the longest time she would only say, "meow" when she saw a cat, and not say the name of the animal. I would just say, "yes, the cat says, meow" each time. So the other day she sees a cat on TV and starts saying, "kitty." Kitty? Really? After all this time of saying cat and only hearing the word "kitty" like twice from dada? I said "cat" and she looked at me and said "kitty", and then laughed.
She says mama and dada all the time. However, when she wants our attention and has something important to say to us, we become mom and dad. "Mom!" she will say to me, waiting for me to look at her. The she will continue to tell me whatever it is she needs me to know.
She calls Papa Tim, "papa ta." She has said "grama" a few times. She knows which brother is which, but refuses to say their names. Our nickname for Silas is "Booger." The other day she started calling him that. If I say "Is that Silas?", she will smile and say, "Booger!" If I yell at Silas when he is upstairs, she will promptly say, "Booger!!"
She loves her cheese!! When she is hungry she will go to the fridge and say, "cheese!!", and do a little cheese dance. I love it. I hope she never stops.
She loves music and loves to dance. She says, "ic! ic! ic!" which is how she says music. She shakes that sweet little head and bops her whole body. It is my favorite thing to watch.
One more thing for now. She refuses to say "chair." She says "down." Because you sit down in a chair. No matter how many times I say "chair", she always says, "down!".
OK, baby girl. You win. You be who you want to be and I will love you more for it. You are smart, beautiful, funny, and caring. I want you to stay little, but I can't wait to see who you are when you grow up.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
I have decided (on several occasions of late) that I really need to spend less time feeling sorry for myself. It is really easy to get mired down in all that you think is wrong with your life. I know I have a lot to work on and that I shouldn't just decide to be comfortable with my circumstances and never try to better them. However, it never does you any good to pull up an easy chair in the middle of the pit. I am continually convicted that the more time I spend wallowing around in all my woes the less time I can do anything for God that amounts to anything.
So this morning after I got done with my quiet time I was reminded once again of my new goal of "quit looking at the poo and find out what you can do!" Sweet Miss Claire is now 16 months old. She is sharp as a tack. Her verbal skills blow her brother's away at comparative ages. She has been having a language explosion now for about two months. She "talks" to me all the time, complete with pauses, inflection, and gestures. I so wish I could understand more of what she is saying. The scary thing is how much we can understand. She is a mental wonder to me. However.... she refuses to walk. All the boys walked right around their first birthday. I have no experience with a 16 month old crawler/cruiser. She walks if you hold her hands and make her, but as soon as you let go she says, "uh oh!" as she slowly sits down. She is basically refusing to walk even with the physical ability well within her grasp.
This leads to some interesting scenarios I am again unfamiliar with. I noticed yesterday the cutest little pair of pants she has now have worn out knees. And then there are the shoes. Pretty much all of her shoes have these beautifully clean soles. Then you look at the top of the shoes and you see lots of nice dirt and stains. She has an adorable pair of those leather slip on shoes. They are a light purple with light blue trim around the ankles. On the part that covers the top of the foot there is a little golden haired angel face complete with halo and wings. Her poor little cherub-like face is stained with dirt, like she has been living on the streets her whole life. As Claire crawls around she drags the top of her little feet which mars up the top of her cute little shoes.
As much as I want to drag my feet and crawl from exhaustion, it just leads to damaging the good. I am not spectacular, important, or influential in any way. I am not well known. I do, however, have a family, and I can start with that. I have kids to raise and a husband to be a wife for. I can't do them any good if I am stuck in self pity or always weighed down with where I fall short. The boys actually get really mad at me if I say anything negative about myself in their presence. Of course I can't very well teach them that Jesus covers all our wrongs and shortcomings with His death on the cross if I don't accept that for myself.
It's OK to identify where you fall short and want to work on that. Just don't refuse to walk. You'll mess up your pretty shoes.
So this morning after I got done with my quiet time I was reminded once again of my new goal of "quit looking at the poo and find out what you can do!" Sweet Miss Claire is now 16 months old. She is sharp as a tack. Her verbal skills blow her brother's away at comparative ages. She has been having a language explosion now for about two months. She "talks" to me all the time, complete with pauses, inflection, and gestures. I so wish I could understand more of what she is saying. The scary thing is how much we can understand. She is a mental wonder to me. However.... she refuses to walk. All the boys walked right around their first birthday. I have no experience with a 16 month old crawler/cruiser. She walks if you hold her hands and make her, but as soon as you let go she says, "uh oh!" as she slowly sits down. She is basically refusing to walk even with the physical ability well within her grasp.
This leads to some interesting scenarios I am again unfamiliar with. I noticed yesterday the cutest little pair of pants she has now have worn out knees. And then there are the shoes. Pretty much all of her shoes have these beautifully clean soles. Then you look at the top of the shoes and you see lots of nice dirt and stains. She has an adorable pair of those leather slip on shoes. They are a light purple with light blue trim around the ankles. On the part that covers the top of the foot there is a little golden haired angel face complete with halo and wings. Her poor little cherub-like face is stained with dirt, like she has been living on the streets her whole life. As Claire crawls around she drags the top of her little feet which mars up the top of her cute little shoes.
As much as I want to drag my feet and crawl from exhaustion, it just leads to damaging the good. I am not spectacular, important, or influential in any way. I am not well known. I do, however, have a family, and I can start with that. I have kids to raise and a husband to be a wife for. I can't do them any good if I am stuck in self pity or always weighed down with where I fall short. The boys actually get really mad at me if I say anything negative about myself in their presence. Of course I can't very well teach them that Jesus covers all our wrongs and shortcomings with His death on the cross if I don't accept that for myself.
It's OK to identify where you fall short and want to work on that. Just don't refuse to walk. You'll mess up your pretty shoes.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Snot and Defiance Equal True Love
Growing older my not be doing my body any favors, but I have found myself to happier with the direction of my mental processes compared to my younger days. It is really hard to not be too self absorbed in your teens and twenties unless you are quite exceptional. I suppose the American culture leads us to a lot of self importance we don't quite deserve.
As I have hinted in some recent posts I have been having some spiritual conflicts and emotional battles. I am coming to some terms about my relationship with God. I think I have had some faulty perceptions about my role as His child. The Gospel teaches full forgiveness and acceptance through Jesus. I have such a growing love for Him now as I realize what freedom this really offers. I don't have to focus on my failures and shortcomings. I don't have to try to "fix" myself before coming to God.
It is oh so easy to see why Jesus said we need to be like children. I see the metaphor ring true each day. When is it the most obvious? For me it is when the kids are sick, or behaving the worst.
Claire has been really sick this week. She wakes me up at all hours crying, snot smearing her red little face. She pukes on me and then promptly wants to cuddle. She pushes and hits at me in a rage as I try to clean her face of the crusted mucus, but is desperate for me to care for her. She is needy and clingy, but never once questions that I am nothing less than ecstatic to be meeting her every need. She has no care that her loud wailing, snot encrusted hair, and slobber covered face don't get her to her most attractive state. Little does she know that it all actually endears her to me even more. My mommy heart aches at her pain. I would trade places with her in a fraction of a breath if I could.
The boys are all in a state of transition. Silas is becoming less of a little boy, and more of a big boy (to his mama's chagrin). Levi is becoming less of a child each day as he approaches the big ten. Noah, well Noah is caught up in the middle. We clash a lot these days. I am none too happy about it and am in a desperate fight to work it all out. We are a lot alike in many ways. He craves love and acceptance but is having trouble with the whole authority and respect thing. In the midst of any big battle between he and I, I sense that he would still just rather crawl on to my lap. He isn't quite sure what to do with the little boy trapped in a body that wants to be a man before its time. I am the safe one for him to push the line with. I just hope I stay strong for as long as he feels the need to push, and that he still wants to come sit on my lap when it's all over.
I am so thankful that after I push all the limits with God, and rebel against the lines that are there to keep me safe, there will always be a place in His lap for me.
As I have hinted in some recent posts I have been having some spiritual conflicts and emotional battles. I am coming to some terms about my relationship with God. I think I have had some faulty perceptions about my role as His child. The Gospel teaches full forgiveness and acceptance through Jesus. I have such a growing love for Him now as I realize what freedom this really offers. I don't have to focus on my failures and shortcomings. I don't have to try to "fix" myself before coming to God.
It is oh so easy to see why Jesus said we need to be like children. I see the metaphor ring true each day. When is it the most obvious? For me it is when the kids are sick, or behaving the worst.
Claire has been really sick this week. She wakes me up at all hours crying, snot smearing her red little face. She pukes on me and then promptly wants to cuddle. She pushes and hits at me in a rage as I try to clean her face of the crusted mucus, but is desperate for me to care for her. She is needy and clingy, but never once questions that I am nothing less than ecstatic to be meeting her every need. She has no care that her loud wailing, snot encrusted hair, and slobber covered face don't get her to her most attractive state. Little does she know that it all actually endears her to me even more. My mommy heart aches at her pain. I would trade places with her in a fraction of a breath if I could.
The boys are all in a state of transition. Silas is becoming less of a little boy, and more of a big boy (to his mama's chagrin). Levi is becoming less of a child each day as he approaches the big ten. Noah, well Noah is caught up in the middle. We clash a lot these days. I am none too happy about it and am in a desperate fight to work it all out. We are a lot alike in many ways. He craves love and acceptance but is having trouble with the whole authority and respect thing. In the midst of any big battle between he and I, I sense that he would still just rather crawl on to my lap. He isn't quite sure what to do with the little boy trapped in a body that wants to be a man before its time. I am the safe one for him to push the line with. I just hope I stay strong for as long as he feels the need to push, and that he still wants to come sit on my lap when it's all over.
I am so thankful that after I push all the limits with God, and rebel against the lines that are there to keep me safe, there will always be a place in His lap for me.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Cash in the Atic? No, bras in the walls.
We were again marveling at the numbers of flooring layers - four this time. We also found the pile of used of razors in the wall that were used by my grandpa. After much hammering, sawing, banging, cutting, kicking, and general loud and dirty chaos, we made the bathroom as it was disappear.
Now the best find of the day is arguable. One treasure we found was a completely dehydrated, but intact, mouse. It's dried up little body was a fraction of it's living weight, but looked as if it had just fallen asleep - and then lost it's hair. The boys want to sell it online. The second awesome find was pulled out of the wall. There is a joint in the siding where the old kitchen Frank built meets the dining room area built much later. Keeping with the "fix it quick and cheep" theme of the house, old "rags" were stuffed in the gap at some point. Levi and Noah were too curious to leave them be, so they started pulling them out. And what did we find? Bras. Seven to be exact. There were also a couple of pairs of undies. Quite old undies and bras. I can only imagine the scenario that led to those items of clothing being stuffed in the wall. And now, years later they offered us some very much needed comic relief. Good thing grandma will never know we found them...
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Dear Lizzie... (6)
Dear Lizzie,
How often did you miss your family and friends back in Illinois? Once you moved to Kansas I am sure travel wasn't much of an option. Did you long for the places you grew up while at the same time learning to love the wide open prairie? You were so impressed with the lack of trees when you arrived here you wrote of it in your journal. I wonder how different it was for you here than the places of your youth.
My family and I just completed a 1500 mile round trip journey in less than a week. That includes staying at our destination for four full days. Travel time was a mere 24 hours total. I am sure this would have been such a marvel to you that it would take me quite some time to explain it to you. How often would you have gone back to the ones you loved and missed if you could have traveled in such a fashion?
As I said goodbye again to my friends last week I held onto hope that I will see them again soon. I feel sad for you that you didn't have that option. It seems like life could have been quite lonely out here on the plains.
I am glad now that you are surely reunited with most of those that you missed in life.
Yours Truly,
Charity
How often did you miss your family and friends back in Illinois? Once you moved to Kansas I am sure travel wasn't much of an option. Did you long for the places you grew up while at the same time learning to love the wide open prairie? You were so impressed with the lack of trees when you arrived here you wrote of it in your journal. I wonder how different it was for you here than the places of your youth.
My family and I just completed a 1500 mile round trip journey in less than a week. That includes staying at our destination for four full days. Travel time was a mere 24 hours total. I am sure this would have been such a marvel to you that it would take me quite some time to explain it to you. How often would you have gone back to the ones you loved and missed if you could have traveled in such a fashion?
As I said goodbye again to my friends last week I held onto hope that I will see them again soon. I feel sad for you that you didn't have that option. It seems like life could have been quite lonely out here on the plains.
I am glad now that you are surely reunited with most of those that you missed in life.
Yours Truly,
Charity
Last week we went back to Nashville. It was exactly what my soul needed. We left in the wee hours of the morning and rolled in the evening of the 30th. We were lucky enough to get to stay with friends the whole time. Chris had a CT Wednesday morning and then a doctor appointment on Thursday. We are praising God that the CT was clear and that we are off the hook for three more months.
Seven months melted into what seemed like mere days as the familiar terrain of Tennessee sprawled before us. I can still picture in my mind the view as we drove out, back in May. I felt a stirring in my soul that I had not anticipated. If my Midwestern roots were not as strong as they are then I would surely go running back to the southeast. Even just my short five years there fostered a love for the place and the people. Seven months is a long time to go without being called "baby" or "honey!" It was such a sweet surprise to feel like we were coming home. Not many people get to feel that way about more than one place in the world.
Seeing my wonderful friends face to face was invaluable. I miss them so much. Hugs, dinners, precious conversation, and full acceptance. We got to spend a morning at our old home church too. It was a strong dose of medicine that did me a lot of good. I am frustrated it took me a whole seven months before I came back to see these magnificent folks!
We were fed, housed, and loved, and had a complete blast. I wish we had had more time to do and see more. It was hard to remember we have been gone for severeal months. It was so easy to slip back into conversation and my eyes never skipped a beat that they were taking in scenery they hadn't seen in over half of a year. It solidified in my head that this place had truly become a home and the people a family over the last two years we lived there.
How do you live in two places? Chris' answer is to be rich. Sure. While physically I can't be in two places, my mind is nearly always divided. I don't know how much longer it will be that way for me. I learned a long time ago not to try too hard to see the future.
For now I will be thankful God allowed us a great week to catch up in person. I am thankful, too, that we have several reasons to go back. Maybe sooner than I think. I have no doubt we are where we are supposed to be for now. It doesn't make me stop the missing part, but I don't want to sop missing. That would mean that I had stopped caring.
Seven months melted into what seemed like mere days as the familiar terrain of Tennessee sprawled before us. I can still picture in my mind the view as we drove out, back in May. I felt a stirring in my soul that I had not anticipated. If my Midwestern roots were not as strong as they are then I would surely go running back to the southeast. Even just my short five years there fostered a love for the place and the people. Seven months is a long time to go without being called "baby" or "honey!" It was such a sweet surprise to feel like we were coming home. Not many people get to feel that way about more than one place in the world.
Seeing my wonderful friends face to face was invaluable. I miss them so much. Hugs, dinners, precious conversation, and full acceptance. We got to spend a morning at our old home church too. It was a strong dose of medicine that did me a lot of good. I am frustrated it took me a whole seven months before I came back to see these magnificent folks!
We were fed, housed, and loved, and had a complete blast. I wish we had had more time to do and see more. It was hard to remember we have been gone for severeal months. It was so easy to slip back into conversation and my eyes never skipped a beat that they were taking in scenery they hadn't seen in over half of a year. It solidified in my head that this place had truly become a home and the people a family over the last two years we lived there.
How do you live in two places? Chris' answer is to be rich. Sure. While physically I can't be in two places, my mind is nearly always divided. I don't know how much longer it will be that way for me. I learned a long time ago not to try too hard to see the future.
For now I will be thankful God allowed us a great week to catch up in person. I am thankful, too, that we have several reasons to go back. Maybe sooner than I think. I have no doubt we are where we are supposed to be for now. It doesn't make me stop the missing part, but I don't want to sop missing. That would mean that I had stopped caring.
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