giving thanks

Three years have passed since,  inspired by Ann Voskamp and her beautiful One Thousand Gifts, I began jotting down my own daily thanks. Making lists of the daily graces I see in my simple days has helped me be more appreciative of the little things {and isn't motherhood typified by those little things?}. 

My book has turned into a place to record the hilarious things my boys say, the menu for a meal I've prepared that turned out especially yummy, books we've read, a psalm that struck a cord in the heart of this pilgrim.

I have found it to be a wonderfully simple, do-able form of journaling for me in this stage of life. I don't hem and haw over the best way to say something; I don't have to have a sizable chunk of time before I pick up my pen to write. It is a place to jot notes of my day and as those notes grow into pages and pages of lists and I flip back through them and read of the abundance I've been given, wonder sets in of His love for me, of His grace toward this little family I call mine, and my heart worships the Giver of it all. 

That thankful book also provides the backbone of my journaling in my family photo books. I have forgone the time and effort of writing neat, perfect paragraphs for each month or event and rather taken to copying my lists right into my photo books. And since my little boys love to read those books, I am surreptitiously influencing them to appreciate the beauty and goodness in little things. 

Anyhow, to avoid sounding too preachy, on this snowy eve of Thanksgiving as I reflect back on God's abundant goodness to us over the past two months, here are some pictures that capture a bit of what has filled our lives.

My sister was sweet enough to leave us her four kiddos for two weeks while she and her hubby hopped the pond. What fun we had!

Meeting Owyn. The same week Ali returned to reclaim her brood, I flew down by myself  to meet my newest nephew. He's perfect.

Lilah thought so too.

And I got to meet August. And August got to meet Owyn too. Such a special time was had with dear ladies and their babies!

Got my mama to fly back home with me and how we all enjoyed having her with us for a week.

B and T are the same height now and must look something alike to a number of people for how often I am asked if they are twins. They are both pretty stinkin' cute.

No caption necessary.

Catch a falling leaf.

So, what did you do on October 31st? I have a natural affinity for cemeteries, old cemeteries, as does my mother. We didn't plan to be ambling through one the last day in  October but since we were, and since we aren't superstitious, we had a good time.

On November 8th Casey passed his final practical exam for the doctorate he's been working towards over the last five years. Hooray! Big smiles and cheers all around!

A weekend away in NY to celebrate the end of Casey's career as a student. Hooray!

G.K. Chesterton on motherhood

saying goodbye to daddy.

"Woman is generally shut up in a house with a human being at the time when he asks all the questions that there are, and some that there aren't. It would be odd if she retained any of the narrowness of a specialist... when people begin to talk about this domestic duty as not merely difficult but trivial and dreary, I simply give up the question. For I cannot with the utmost energy of imagination conceive what they mean.

If drudgery only means dreadfully hard work, I admit the woman drudges in the home, as a man might drudge at the Cathedral of Amiens or drudge behind a gun at Trafalgar. But if it means that the hard work is more heavy because it is trifling, colourless, and of small import to the soul, then as I say, I give it up; I do no know what the words mean. To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labours, and holidays; to be Whitely within a certain area, providing toys, boots, cakes, and books; to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene; I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it.

How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone and narrow to be everything to someone? No, a woman's function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute."

two years later

Today was a very ordinary, overcast Monday in our part of this big world. It even could have been chalked up as a bad day, a failure, had it not been for a singular little fact that kept reeling me back in and reminding me that all this is a gift for which I really am thankful.

Gratitude can change perspective like that.

And that singular little fact is this: today is September 9th, our two year anniversary of bringing our sons home from Ethiopia. The gift that Bereket and Tamagn are for us is fresh before me.

We didn't get much done in the way of school, but we had crepes with homemade blueberry sauce for lunch. The dishes sat in the sink until it was time to start dinner but I thoroughly enjoyed reading a bit of The Two Towers aloud to my biggest boy, snuggled down in my bed, during nap time. We walked our milk bottles down the street and took the long way back and spent half an hour just chatting with two neighbors. We picked green beans and used them as manipulatives for a phonics lesson. I did another load of wet sheets and pillows, again, and resolved to buy Pampers tomorrow.

Daddy getting a runover from B and J before he goes to work.

B is working today too.

Fun with beans.

Brothers.

We had leftover Ethiopian food for dinner and then piled onto the sofa in the basement to watch home movies of this day two years prior. I wish I'd had a video camera rolling to catch the boys' comments as they were watching themselves on the television!

Josiah wishes "we were back in those times."

Tamagn was very impressed with Bereket's dance moves and declared more than once, "When I get smaller, I can dance like that!"

And Bereket laughed so hard at the footage of his very strange snoring {that musical kind of snoring that convinced us to have his adenoids out} that he was gasping for breath.

It was a good day. I am thankful for where we are today, for these little lives that God has given us to care for, to call our children. It is cheap therapy to look back and remember what God has done.  It always leads my heart to worship the good God who has an infallible plan and who has invited me to be a part of His story. He is worthy of our praise.

two minutes in time

Three boys create a lot of noise. Mostly, I am just fine with this. I remember the quiet of one child and am thankful for the loud, hilarious, enthusiasm of boys enjoying their brothers. But sometimes I can't do what needs to be done for the tumbling and yelling and rolling going on all over. All the time. This series of pictures came out of one of those times.

I was trying hard to pack up, clean up and move out of the second-story apartment we lived in for three days during our time in Michigan and was getting distracted by the ever-increasing noise my boys were making, and a bit embarrassed wondering what we must sound like to the people below us in the store where the owners worked. Wild monkeys that can stomp like elephants and screech like the Nazgul in Lord of the Rings?

The beautiful old church pew along the brick wall seemed like a good solution. Sit and be quiet, really quiet, for two minutes. They sat. And they were quiet. And they were really cute. And I didn't get done what needed to be done in those two minutes.

Rather, I shot about 40ish pictures of them sitting there, quiet, but still very much enjoying each other.

And I love what came out of those two minutes. They are two minutes I won't ever have again. Time flits itself away faster and faster each day it seems and I don't want to live too much of my life regretting how I spent two minutes here and two minutes there. Just a reminder today to slow down and enjoy.

(And I still did get out the door eventually, with all our stuff, and three little boys too.)

observations from a peach orchard

We are just back from our last {planned} trip of the year. Four days near the shores of Lake Michigan made for a restful, mini-vacation at the close of another summer. Casey had one last class before his final exam in November so while he studied diligently, the boys and I explored and enjoyed very much the sunshine and water. And peaches.

Michigan fruit country during the height of peach season is a delightful place to be. We spent a lovely morning at an orchard where I thoroughly enjoyed watching how differently my three sons responded to the opportunity before them.

Josiah approached it as a challenge to fill his bucket {which happens quicker than you'd like with peaches}. He wanted perfect fruit specimens and delighted in showing me each peach he diligently sought out and chose.

Bereket dwaddled from this tree to that tree, nibbling just a bit of a peach, more concerned with the rash that he might get, no, that he knew he had. Unfortunately, he had heard the lady who checked us in warn me that the peach fuzz can irritate skin and he became rather obsessed with concern over touching the fruit. Or the heat of the day. Or something.

And Tamagn. Tamagn chose his peach, flipped his bucket over to serve him as a seat, sat his little self down in the sun and proceeded to thoroughly enjoy the moment. Between bites of golden goodness with sweet juicy running down his chin and arms, he sang away, "I will cast all my cares upon you, I lay all of my burdens down at your feet..."

They are so very different. I need days in an orchard to appreciate the differences. To see the person behind the complaining or the mess or the song. They are little people, precious little people and I want them to know that I am so glad that I get to be their mom. I want them to know that they are enjoyed.

a few pictures from an exciting week in oregon

Just back from a very fun week visiting Casey's folks in Oregon. Thought I'd share a few pictures as it was quite a memorable trip. It seems nature pulled out all the stops to test our flexibility in making second, and third, plans. Fire, lightning, rain, smoke. Very exciting.

Our week should have started off with three days of camping. But, due to a forest fire, we had to evacuate the camp on day one. All was not lost, however, as we got to watch the fire for a couple of hours, and the four helicopters fighting it with their big buckets of water. Anyhow, pictures say more so here you go.

Broken top. The mountain Casey, Steve and I hiked one day. See that pine on the right in the foreground? Almost directly behind the top of it is where the glacial lake is and the ridge where we picnicked.

The glacial lake with Casey and Steve on the trail. Casey swam here on the way down. He's crazy. I could barely stand to put my feet in it.

Mountain lupine all around the lake. The wildflowers were amazing!

View from the top, of the Cascades. We could see all the way to Mt. Adams in Washington, the mountain we lived at the base of the year Josiah was born.

These little flowers live on the ridge between the lake and the view of  the mountains in the previous pictures. Hardy little things!

Lupine and red paintbrush.

The bat cave at Round Butte that my six year old jumped out of the boat to go explore.

Tubing at Round Butte with a part of the Oregon wagon trail visible on the left.

Casey and I drove down to Crater Lake one day and were met with heavy smoke from another fire. Still beautiful. And it was fun day together.

Phantom Ship on the lake.

The Pinnacles. Fumaroles that were formed when the volcano erupted, many years ago.

So glad we hiked down to the water. Josiah was very impressed that Crater Lake is the "second clearest lake in the world." He told a lot of people that fact. FYI, Blue Lake in New Zealand is #1. The water was beautiful.

Casey couldn't resist.