The Great Move - Day 8

Packing progress has been sporadic with other things going on too (read: real life) , but on average going ok.

Today I spent some time restoring order in the boys' room, which has been neglected lately.  I packed a box while I was in there, then later in the day did two in Brooklyn's room and one from the hall closet. Four for today! Biggedt day yet! Tomorrow is a storytime and garden day, so I don't expect as much.

Meanwhile,  I am liking having Daniel in our room, and we may just keep it that way afyer we move, especially if he (ahem) still isnt sleeping through the night by tnen. (Get with tbe program,  Daniel!)

Days till move: 41
Box count: 15

Early mornings, busy days

Several days this week have involved early morning trips to the garden.  Early to avoid the quickly rising temperatures.  To the garden for picking and weeding.

In addition to baskets full of fresh veggies, there are always a few other interesting finds.

Like a watermelon plant coming up volunteer (from last year) in the tomato row:

I was fascinated by the perfect spacing of these insect eggs (before i scraped them all in the dirt):

One of our favorite finds...a bird's nest in a tomato plant, with three little speckled eggs!

We've seen a mocking bird coming and going, and yes, mocking birds eat tomatoes.  But this one gets to stay.  Maybe she won't eat too much.

One morning after leaving the garden we stopped by to see Gramps' ongoing project with a neighbor: digging a well. 

 The boys seemed to like seeing it all in action, especially knowing that after the neighbor's well is done, there will be one dug at Gramps' place.

I still marvel at being a mama to boys!

The Great Move o' 2013 - Days 1 & 2

August 6, 2004 we moved into our current home as first-time home owners and parents of a 1 year old.

Nine years (almost to the day!) and 4 kids later, we will be moving out.

Oh the task this is shaping up to be!

With a 7 week countdown I thought I'd chronicle a little along the way.  We are hoping to get as much done as we can a little at a time to save ourselves a lot of work  heartache  panic at the end.  The goal for these first few weeks is 1-3 boxes daily, while maintaining order throughout the house and continuing on with life as normal, best we can.

Our tentative target date is August 12.  Our 13 year anniversary.

So....Day 1 - Monday, June 24: I went by Greg's former place of employment to pick up moving boxes.  His friend (and former boss) and I collapsed at least 12 boxes, stacking and poking them in the van.  How ironic is it that upon leaving 11 years of band directing, our stuff is going to be packed in band instrument boxes?  These, added to another huge lot we scored the night before from a fireworks stand setting up for the season, will be a great start to our packing.

Day 2 - Tuesday, June 25: Packed 3 boxes.  My first goal is to pack up and clear a corner of our bedroom, possibly to move Daniel in with us.  Before it is all said and done, the babies' room is probably going to end up as a staging/storage area for packed boxes.

Days till the move: 47
Box Count: 3

Any moving tips?

The more things change...

May 11, 2007.  

My very first blog post.  It begins, "I can't believe I've started a blog!! What's gotten into me?!? Ah, well...I thought it would be fun to chronicle some of our goings & comings...because there are a lot of them!"

In it I mention Greg's job, Alan's liver, Vacation Bible School, and redecorating our bathroom.  I say they are "likely to be recurring themes."

I was right.  Those 4 things occupied more of our time and thought than I would have ever dreamed.  Well, except the bathroom.  Even though we did get that redecorating done.  Twice!

Six years later and those things are still relevant.  The ins and outs of daily life. Both big and small.  I've blogged almost all of it.  Job changes.  Homeschooling.  The birth of 3 babies.

Through those six years of blogging I can point out to you more than one long periods of silence.  Almost every time that silence is due to changes brewing.

If anyone has actually stuck around to read this ('hello? is this thing on?') you may have noticed a particularly long period of silence this time.  To be honest, part of that is a result of homeschooling 3 and tending to babies 13 months apart.  My plate is full.  I'm still finding my groove.

But part of that lengthy blog silence is, as before, the result of me withdrawing.  Contemplating.  Retreating into the safeness of privacy while we sort and pray and wait.  Because the silence this time is not just due to changes, but very big changes.

After months of prayer and waiting, we believe that God is calling Greg into further service for Him.  Although we don't know exactly what that means long-term yet, the next step is seminary.  This August, Greg will become a full-time student.

The change is definitely bittersweet.  While it is exciting to see God work and to step out in faith and service to Him, there is a lot of sadness at what we are leaving.  We will be moving away from our home of 10 years, parents, grandparents, and the best church family anyone could ask for.  A simple one-line list doesn't even begin to describe the depth of what we are walking away from.  I know people do it all the time, but not us.  This is new for us.

Even so, we are moving forward with joy, not dread.  We train our children to obey us with a smile, not a pout and a sigh, so should we expect any less from ourselves?

This is God's idea. He's got this.

Meanwhile, I make no immediate promises about the ol' blog. But I do have a plan for the direction of my blogging once we are settled in our new home and routine.  I began this blog with an audience of 5.  I sat down at the end of each day and shared the highlights of the day, and what was on my mind.  A few pictures of my kids and what they were up to.  

It won't win any blog awards, and I won't gain an audience of hundreds or blogging recognition, but who cares?  That's what I'm going back to.  I'm finally content to be 'just another mommy blogger.'  I would do it just for that same audience of 5, but I hear through the grapevine there are more of you out there than that.  I thank you so much for reading along, waiting through the silent times, and following our little adventures.  I hope you'll keep reading through this next one.  

(And leave a comment once in a while, would ya? ;) )

"Shattering" News

Our three oldest boys share a bedroom.  Everyone is familiar with the stereotypical rambunctious boy.  Put three of them together and one can imagine the potential for disasters and chaos.

Therefore it should come as no surprise to learn that the light fixture in the boys' bedroom was broken today.  Shattered into hundreds of pieces.

The surprise is who broke it.

It was me.

After a quick clean-up of the mess in their room (thank you LORD we picked up the stuff out of the floor before it was showered with glass), I tucked Tyler into bed for his nap.

Dale, who never-ever-never sleeps in the day decided he wanted to nap too.  Ok, whatever.... I humored him and let him stay up in his top bunk.  At least the house would be quiet for a while.

I was headed out to look for Tyler's lamb - a must have - and heard Dale say something about a teddy bear.  So I grabbed one.  With my right arm balancing Daniel on that hip, I used my left to send the teddy bear up to the top bunk with an under-handed toss.  From the doorway.  Completely across the room.

I flinched as soon as it left my hand, certain it would hit the fixture.  

And it did.  And the fixture cracked.

I watched as 3/4 of the square of glass broke loose and then fell, in slow motion, to the carpet below.

Where it shattered and scattered.

We all stared in stunned silence.  

And then I laughed.  And prayed I'll have the grace to laugh when my rambunctious boys do something equally stupid and accidentally break something.

It's all just stuff anyway.

Round and round...

The end is in sight.  Once next week is complete we are calling an end to the 2012-2013 school year.  The end is pretty arbitrary, though.  Current math and phonics books were finished weeks ago.  We've only loosely been following our schedule the last few weeks, and our learning will continue to a certain extent throughout our summer break.  It's just what we do.  Nevertheless we all see next week as a closing point and I think I am just as ready - or more so - as the boys.

At a time when I have so much on my plate and on my mind, I am trying to slow down.  Breathe deep.  Enjoy the dailiness of life with these 5 people of varying ages and personalities.

So yesterday morning after our Bible reading and morning routines we ditched the schedule and to-do list and headed for the hills.  Ok, it's not that hilly, but we drove out to the country to check on the garden after the previous day's storm.  We also had a turtle that had been captive in his box in the laundry room long enough.  It was time for a new life for Sammy Turtle.

Before heading to the garden we stopped off to visit with my Dad and Grand-dad.  What a privilege to be able to sit and visit mid-morning on a weekday, a baby in each lap.  Checking the balance scales.... yep....definitely out-weighs "doing school".  

Then it was on to the garden where some of us dodged the standing areas of water from all. of. the. rain., and some of us sloshed right through.  For Tyler, who was wearing his trusty rain boots, that was no problem.  But as I loved on Alan in a brief moment of stillness that afternoon I asked him his favorite part of going to the garden.  "Getting my shoes wet," he answered with a smile.  Wet tennis shoes...again.  They'll dry.  They always do.

Mr. Turtle was released, camouflaged in the brown leaves beneath the oak tree.  Marked with a 'B' (I'll just leave you to wonder about that one) in case we ever see him again.  Bees were watched.  A butterfly observed.  A slilpper squirmy tadpole was caught (and released).  A tiny katydid was spotted and examined.  Slimy mushrooms that looked like squished raisins were plucked.  The garden was explored.  All of this weighed against "doing school"..... and real life wins again.

Upon our return home routines resumed, math worksheets were done, spelling words practiced.  Rooms cleaned, dishes washed.  "Real life" of a different variety, but necessary.

My last slow-moments of the day before the hectic rush of brushing teeth and tucking in and straightening up the messes the whirlwind left behind were spent combing my sweet girl's hair after her bath.  She loves singing and being sung to lately.  She sat with her vintage Fisher Price van in her lap - one little person left to ride - and I combed as we sang "The Wheels on the Bus" over and over and over again.  I'm glad that song has lots of verses anyway!  We'd barely finish one set of "alllll ...through...the townnn!" when she'd be asked for "moe! moe(more) town!"  So off we'd go again.

And here I sit, the verse of yesterday's trip all through the town complete and the wheels on this bus are already going round and round.  I've ditched routine again already just to write this blog post and one little person has woken early and joined me.  We'll proceed with this day, trying to soak up all the good parts, not fret over all the not-so-good parts, looking for balance in all the "real life" - the parts that demand our attention, and the parts that quietly wait for us when we're ready.  And the wheels go round and round....

Gardening, warts and all

We've been spending more and more time out at the big family garden recently.  It's mostly my Dad's garden, but all of us like to help out so we can reap the rewards!

Rewards that have already started coming, like fresh green onions and, now, new potatoes.  There is something fun and almost addictive about digging potatoes.  Your best luck comes underneath the biggest plants, the ones that have a sprinkling of pointy purple blooms.

For the most part, potato digging is done blindly, with one or both hands buried in the dirt at the base of the plant, feeling for potatoes.  Some of them are just under the surface.  Others are deep enough I am buried up to my wrists in the soft sandy soil.  You have to determine by feel if the potato is big enough to pluck up or if it needs a few more days to grow.  Because of their roundness there is hardly any way to bring them up except for getting your fingers underneath and then bringing your hand up like a scoop.

On our first potato digging this year I was surprised to come across a potato so soft it was nearly mushy.  Why would this potato have rotted under what appeared to be a perfectly healthy plant?  I scooped and pulled, working the lump up to the surface, perplexed the whole time about what exactly I was feeling.  With my other hand I pulled back the lowest leaves of the plant and squinted at the dirt covered lump.  Was that a mushroom?  

And then the sandy lump blinked.

It was a toad!  A knotty brown toad just the size of a ripe potato, and completely covered in sand.  I laughed at my find, thankful I hadn't given it a good, hard squeeze!  After the boys all had a turn inspecting our unearthed amphibian we returned him to his home under the potato plant.  I hope he eats all those beetles I keep seeing there!

Getting ready to leave the garden recently, we handed our first broccoli harvest to Brooklyn for her to hold while we gathered up and finished up.  Next thing we knew, there wasn't much left to the broccoli.  We all agreed it was a good thing we didn't ask her to hold a potato!