homeschool lite

(It's Thursday night...still pregnant. Doing squats and going for long walks. At the ultrasound yesterday the ultrasound tech said she hadn't seen a baby at 40 weeks so active. That it clearly has a lot of room still to wiggle. Rory later translated all of her comments to mean: your womb is basically an olympic sized pool and baby isn't feeling any squish to motivate it to get out...)

This summer we are going to try to continue some sort of home school routine on the days that have nothing planned. This is mostly because routine really does help shape a day and with little kids I do like having some sort of rhythm to our time. Even with the baby coming. I know it will have to be flexible, but believe me, this is flexible!

The kids each got a new math book as I have been told that math is most important thing to keep moving forward throughout the summer months, unless you want to review the old content for 2-3 months in the fall. I have so many friends who have commented that it only takes one summer to learn that lesson the hard way and then you decide to do some sort of math over the summer. So the kids each moved up a grade and are so excited about their new books. (staying with Critical Thinking Company for them...Kindergarten for Elsie and 1st Grade for Ivar.)

Then Ivar has to read us a story each day to keep up his reading words. And then we work on a letter in our handwriting books. And that's it. It's low key. It's fun and quick. But it sort of keeps my head in the game. Even if this happens twice a week it feels good. We are signed up for our bank's summer reading program and our library's summer bingo program. Both of those have fun and creative things to add into our days and I am grateful for the creative ideas from both of those programs (reading outside, asking a friend their favorite book and reading it, reading a book about your town...) I know there are some drawbacks to incentive programs, but I'm a fan. Incentive tends to be motivating!

And I still have to say my most enthused pupil is still Hattie who has her own workbook from the dollar tree that she works in diligently. Until she moves on to help her sister...

my thoughts on the gender

Today we are most definitely 40 weeks! After an appointment yesterday, my doctor wanted us to come in for an ultrasound to make sure baby had enough fluids. It was a great appointment, and everything checked out healthy and baby is doing fine.

As a bonus of the late ultrasound, we got to see our fully formed baby one last time in black and white before this baby comes out and is placed in our arms.

When I look at the picture above I want to weep. I love this child so much I could burst open. I cannot wait to hold it in my arms. I cannot wait to meet this life that God has chosen for our family.

Rory and I have chosen not to find out the gender of any of our kids until they are born. Rory was encouraged by his brother Troy to not find out and let that moment of birth hold the big surprise. My reasoning has more to do with stories I've picked up along the way with mom's finding out the gender at their 20 week ultrasound and then feeling some sort of disappointment. I had a friend tell me she was at a gender reveal party and when the "wrong" gender was revealed the mom ran to the bathroom and cried.

My problem with finding out the gender before the actual birth of the child is that every mom and dad has an opinion. Whether we admit it or not I believe we are gunning for one gender over the other. The even-steven part of me thinks another son would be great to round out the family: two boys and two girls. A brother would be so fun for Ivar. Another boy would give me the chance to get out Ivar's darling baby outfits.

But then I think about another daughter: three sisters in our family! A bff for Hattie. But most of all, that this would be the designed life that God has chosen for our family.

After I had Ivar I told everyone, "after surviving labor and delivery they could have announced, "it's a monkey!" and I would have been overjoyed because that monkey was mine. I carried that monkey for 9 months and was ready to love whoever they put on my chest." And it's so true! The gender is the very last thing you are thinking about when the baby finally arrives. Joy, elation, overwhelming love, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks...those things overwhelm your heart and mind when they lay that life on your chest. I just don't believe there is room to feel anything but gratitude in that moment.

And that's how I felt today, looking at the baby moving around inside of me. I want that baby. Boy or Girl. Even Monkey. I want that one. The one that I have been carrying for 40 weeks. And man, I want it so badly. Rory and I are so ready. Twiddling our thumbs, we are. And I just can't wait to meet the little one. Who are you, baby? It doesn't even matter. I adore you so, so much and love you already with my whole entire heart.

Tuesday is the due date!

...or Wednesday, like my doctor just told me at my last appointment. Which is seriously confusing because for nine months I've been telling people June 20th. And now it's June 21st. And I know it's just a date. And I know it's really just a rough estimate. And I know babies come late. I was just down this road 20 months ago with Hattie, 10 days late.

But let me tell you, that does not stop a woman from hoping the baby might come on Father's Day. It seemed so perfect. And we do have a streak of barn animals being born on holidays, so a human birth seemed possible. Plus my hips are complete jello, ready to do this thing. And I've put up with 8 weeks of "due any day now!" so that it felt like maybe it could come a wee bit early.

But no. Ivar was one day early. I think Elsie was two days past her due date. And Hattie a whopping 10 days past hers. The plus side is that I clearly have a very cozy and comfy womb that my kids enjoy for the full 40 weeks. And that is a gift. But I am ready now.

Rory has been working like crazy lately and told me Friday that he was hopeful to have a few nights of good rest and days of rest before the baby came. The next morning he said he'd like to move the cat back from the barn into the garage which I took to mean, "let's clean the garage all day." Which is my love language. So I did. I hit that garage like a woman in her 39th week of pregnancy, loading up the car with loads and loads to take to giveaway. But Rory was confused as to how I jumped from "let's move the cat back into the garage" to "please move this, and that, and lift that and that for me..." We had a nice talk that night where he explained People over Projects. And I tried to argue that sometimes Pregnancy trumps People, but he didn't buy it. We worked through it, got a good night's sleep and I'm still pleased with my clean garage. ;)

Today (Monday) I took the kids to the library to get started on the summer reading program, to the river, to a few favorite shops including the cupcake shop (where we each split a cupcake, and Hattie discovered she LOVES cupcakes and Elsie dropped her cupcake flat on it's frosting on the floor...) and then to our favorite thrift shop and to a taco stand for a cheap lunch. The goal was to exhaust myself, and we did. We came home, ate our tacos and then I decided to tackle the kid's room. Again, anything to get this party started.

Emotions are right on the edge again. On Friday we went to play with Elsie's best friends but before we left she asked me to get into my bed so we could snuggle a bit before we got in the car. She has asked for a lot of snuggles lately. It reminds me a lot cupcakes and combines. Sort of that high alert, something huge is about to happen, but we don't know when mood... I was trying to explain what a mind game this whole thing is to Rory. I said it would be like knowing you are going to have to run a marathon, but not ever knowing when the gun is going to go off.

So we'll wait. I have a feeling it will all happen soon. But I felt that way with Hattie, so what do I know? Honestly, you'd think I'd have a better sense of how this labor and delivery thing begins, but I really don't. I read through the stages of labor last night and thought, "yeah right. As if I have ever known when I was in "transition." All I remember is that I was in "pain." Ha!

And even knowing the pain that is to come, I am still ready to do this thing. I cannot wait to meet this little baby who is swooshing around. I cannot find out if we have a little sister or a little brother in there. I cannot wait to hold it and introduce myself. I cannot wait for my kids to meet this little baby and to have everyone get to know each other.

But until then, I guess I can wait. Because I have to wait! Patience, they say.

two great reads...

It's Friday night, and we just finished family movie night with the kids. Tonight was Rory's pick: a documentary called Chicken People. It was hilarious. Sort of a Best in Show documentary all about chickens. We fast forwarded some parts but all in all, a pretty funny super quirky, entertaining movie. 

Rory is putting the kids to bed now and I just wanted to pass along two excellent articles that were shared with me this week. 

1) Life Saving Tips for the Mother of a Large Family

This article felt so affirming, and strangely original. The part that impacted me the most was her second tip: Self Congratulation is key to mental health. I loved that paragraph. The article is not just for moms of large families. It definitely is for all mothers. And full of wisdom, I thought.

2) Marriage Takes Hard Work

My friend Dorothy sent this article to me today and I LOVED IT. I wish I had written it. Tonight at dinner I told Rory about the whole article and I got a little choked up. It's all true: there is work and there is reward. I love the whole piece. 

So take a moment to click through or print these two out. I'm going to print both out and put them somewhere so I can return to them often. I hope you enjoy!

And now it's the weekend! Rory has a movie chosen for the two of us to watch next and then our plan is to rest this weekend. We have been packing a lot in lately, and it is time to rest before this labor train takes off! Have a great night. :)

staged to sell

I've been in a stage of nesting and purging for months now. And it means my house is looking quite tidy these days. And then I went an convinced Rory to let me have house cleaners come for 90 minutes to hit my kitchen and bathrooms. Which is my other great motivator: someone coming to clean? I will have the place nearly empty so you can clean as thoroughly as possible. And I will do the messy tasks before they come...like clean out the toaster oven, change the tin foil on the stove tops, clean out the coat closet and dirty shoes. Anything that has the potential to mess up their hard work. This is my fifth time having cleaners out here in five years. An annual clean is a total gift. And I am so, so grateful.

All this to say, my house looks ready to be put on the market. But I promise we're not going anywhere. I spent a few days cleaning the nursery after Hattie made the switch to the big kids room. By the way, that transition is going remarkably well. Ivar sings worship songs to her at bedtime and it is the sweetest thing I can think of. We are strangely thankful that our kids have to share a room. I think really good things will come of it.

Plus, it's fun to have the nursery rid of toys and toddler clutter and back to being for babies (except for the thomas reading chair and board books, that Hattie still frequents daily.)

The bags on the bed are ready to be packed when it feels like labor is beginning. It's hard to pack kids weeks in advance...we need those clothes! But there is a system and a list and a plan all in place, worked out with the grandma's and I think I'm as organized as I possibly can be. Even if we have to take off suddenly...

And here's our bitty room, all tidy and cute. The sign below is right next to my head when I wake up int he morning. When I went to Seattle this winter I left notes around the house for my kids to find. One of them said, "my happiest job is getting to be your mom." And when I came home Ivar had hung this note next to my bed. It's a personal favorite forever.

Of course there is more house to show, but I never got a picture of the kids room...I will work on that because I do want to document the crib set up. And, as always with full disclosure, I feel like I can post these lovely pictures because the truth is, my house looks way more like the pictures below than the pictures above. But it is fun to have lovely shots of your house when it's clean. (Remember these pics of our Minneapolis house? I still love looking at them.) So I'll post these pictures above and look at them for motivation in the future!

having big kids...

Elsie has taken to baby dolls in the last few weeks. She carries one around and shows me how she will hold the new baby so that I can chase Hattie around. I have voiced a few times around here that Hattie is going to need some serious attention once the baby arrives. The adjustment ahead is certain to rock her world more than anyone else. 

And so that is comforting, knowing that Elsie is ready to hold the newborn. ;) But more comforting is that Ivar and Hattie are good, good friends. He is so patient with her. And even though I hear a whole lot of, "no! Hattie! no!" around here, I also see a whole lot of this stuff: wagon rides and play. Today I said I was going to put Hattie down for her nap and he protested, "I'm not done playing with her yet!" So she got to stay up a little later than usual.

And do you know what is more impressive than a six-year-old successfully setting up Mouse Trap? A six-year-old with the help of a one-year-old setting up Mouse Trap. I'm actually looking forward to adding another kid to this mix. I love them each so much. 

the highest compliment

I read Ivar my blog post about Hattie's dirty diaper of fun and he laughed so hard he could hardly catch his breath. It was such a joy. When I read that she said, "no, no, poopie, no, no" he about fell out of his chair. When I was all done he asked me who had written that and I said I had. And he wondered how I knew how to say those words in that way so that the story was so funny.

We had a really awesome conversation about the joy of words, and how fun it is to get to use them in different ways to make people laugh. He said he wanted to memorize my whole blog post so he could tell the story that funny. And that led to a conversation about humor. I told him he didn't need to memorize how I wrote it, but if there was a funny group of words, or a funny line or two, he could use those when he told the story on his own. I told him about how I listened to Grandpa Paul tell lots of funny stories when I was growing up, and noticed how he would change his voice at some parts, or slow down his words and how it takes a little practice to figure out how to set up a joke.

I also remember sitting in Ms. Groves 10th grade English and History class everyday and listening to her opening stories telling about something funny that had happened the night before. And I took notes. That's no lie. I remember writing down phrases and then retelling her stories until I figured out how to use her funny lines in my own material. Ivar said he is going to listen to Uncle Kyle and cousin Jack to learn how to be funny.

Anyways, to have this conversation with my 6-and-a-half-year-old made me so excited for all that is to come as he learns how to play with words. He is writing a story right now called Squeeker and Croak. I'm writing down exactly what he tells me to and this story is awesome. He's got a great imagination in there and I absolutely love that I get a front row seat watching his stories and writing and joke telling develop. He's definitely on the right track.

the dirty-diaper-of-fun

We've all heard the tale of the one year old who discovers their dirty-diaper-of-fun during nap time. This war story is a harrowing one, and often ends with groans of disbelief and wonder at the magnitude of the mess. I've had friends survive this storm, still alive to tell the tale. In the back of our heads we all know this is possible, but highly unlikely with our own child. After all, we have had two kids never do this. So why would one of our offspring suddenly do something so heinous.

So we put our wee one down for her nap in a t-shirt and diaper. It seems fine. It's hot enough and she is warm blooded, always hot and sweaty, so this is probably the most comfortable for her.

And that nap turns out to be particularly long. And particularly quiet. It's such a gift. This time in the afternoon devoted to quiet tasks to accomplish before the arrival of baby #4.

The nap is so long that you might go and check on the 20-month-old. And the moment you open the door you are hit with a smell so fowl you know all that is ahead. You pull the curtain and even upon seeing the war zone, you actually feel very little emotion. The smears of painting and artistry are from head to toe, on every blanket, bar and crib rail. There is a look of innocence as your dear daughter tells you she is not the enemy. She knows this is wrong and continues on repeat, "no, no, poopie. no, no." She is with you. On your side. How this happened is truly a mystery.

The mess was huge, but I didn't even call for back up. Somehow my heart rate didn't even go up. I knew what had to be done. And even though I can't hardly reach her mattress down so low without smooshing my belly into the crib rail, and even though bending over for three rounds of new water in the bathtub is not my idea of a great position these days, I did it. Because I am a mother. And now I have material to add when the stories begin about the day the one year old discovered their dirty-diaper-of-fun.

friday night mind dump

I wrote this on Friday night and now it's Monday afternoon. But this is what I was thinking about on Friday night...

It has been quite the week. We had multiple days with huge events...and well, actually, any outing feels like a huge event lately. I just told Rory tonight that I can't hold Hattie over the sink any more to wash her hands. I am throwing in the towel on that one. So if I'm struggling to wash Hattie's hands, we know a trip out of the house is quite the ordeal.

On Tuesday Hattie had a big appointment at Gillette's that included a sedated MRI. The results came back in our favor and we are so grateful and glad for awesome doctors and for a good report. The moment the second doctor left the room and we were free to go home my stomach went tight as a rock. I had to sit there for a moment and let it pass, but I felt very clearly that the baby inside was saying, "alrighty, time to turn your attention to me. I'm coming soon." 

We got home and on Wednesday morning I woke up in full-on nesting mode. And my first task was the kids clothes. I went through each drawer, ruthless, trying to get each kid down to 7-8 outfits, and making a list of what I could buy to make certain items into an outfit. Then I did my own clothes. It felt great and in the end I had bags and bags to give away. That night we had a babysitter so Rory and I could go out to dinner and I ended up having him take me to a small town nearby where I was able to donate all the clothes to a little church that has a pay-as-you're-able thrift shop in the basement. You know you're in full purge mode when you use date time/ babysitter time to drop off stuff you want out of your house! We then went out for dinner and had a great night. We are usually pretty terrible about date nights but this summer we are trying hard to rectify that. We have our sitter come for two hours. This way we can afford her to come weekly. I'm just so glad she's on the calendar!

Thursday I woke up ready to gut Hattie's room and clean it from top to bottom for the new baby. I swept, mopped, rolled up the old and nasty rug (lots of spit up on that baby) getting ready for a new rug, wiped the base boards, downsized her toys and Rory built a second crib in the big kids room for Hattie. Elsie used 54 wipes to wipe down the walls and dresser and crib and I was so grateful for her help. That night Hattie had her first sleep over with her siblings and it went surprisingly well. She cries out in the night, not needing anything, but still startling for her big brother. He's may be the one who is having the most difficulty with the new sleeping arrangement. And I don't really blame him. Rory and I slept without a noise fan for the first time since Hattie was born. She is noisy...so Ivar may get a sound machine out of the deal. 

I also spent the day cleaning my laundry room which has become a catch all of every single thing that comes into the house and doesn't have a home. It was a great task since I am in the give-away spirit. The room looks flawless again and I am so pleased. Today I walked in there a few times just to take it in. I went out with girlfriends last night, which felt so good and will likely not happen a whole lot this summer after the baby arrives. 

And then Friday came and I was wiped out. Hattie and I walked to the barn first thing to find "Dada!" and shortly after Rory left for a meeting. It was then that I saw all the sheep out near the garden, out of their fence. I waddled back out there, opened the barn doors and took a good long while working them back into their barn stall. I texted Rory that I was panting has hard as the sheep. 

After lunch I called Rory, who was out in the garden, and told him I needed direction for the day. A friend had just left after a fun play date and I was aimless and exhausted. And he said, "go to bed." And I wanted to cry with thanksgiving. So that's what I did for the afternoon. When I woke up he took Elsie on a date to Dairy Queen, we ate rice and beans for dinner, enjoyed Family Movie Night with a little ditty about a Fireman named Sam and now I just read to the kids and put them all to bed in the same room. Hattie cried for a bit, but she's out now. And Ivar just came down and said, "I'm turning on the air conditioning." And he did! 

I'm not really sure why I wrote all of that out...you are likely bored out of your gourd. But I suppose if I read this years down the road, I might remember this season a little better. There were other things that happened this week too...like Rory and Ivar packing a lunch and heading into the woods near us for an adventure that led to an unexpected waterfall and giant boulder. And all the afternoons I spent up in the barn praying and reading my Bible while Rory took the kids for an hour before dinner. We had our friend's wedding on Sunday, Memorial Day at Rory's folks with the whole Groves clan, and even some impromptu meetings with our pastor as we worked some things out before baby arrives. Life is good and full. We are trying now to slow it all down before it gets even fuller. Tomorrow I will wash the newborn clothes in Dreft and then I'll probably need another nap again. :)

kid quotes

Most of these are Elsie Quotes, because she's four and that is the age that every kid should have a camera crew capturing their hilarious thoughts. Four year old quotes are way better than any sitcom.

Ivar: Mom, I would like to get that book about Space back from the library so you can draw a big picture of the planets and I can color it in.
Elsie: Mom. I don't want to learn about Space at all. I think it's very boring because it's just...a lot of space.
Me: What would you like to learn about, Elsie?
Elsie: Well, how the elephants helped get all the poop and pee off of the ark. (totally out of the blue...nothing had been discussed of this ever before.)

Ivar and I laughed a little too hard at her honest educational request. She was sad and ran away. But I still can't stop laughing.

**
I told Elsie she needed to start eating more at mealtimes because her snacking is just not sustainable. She would snack all day long, and I can't be in the kitchen all day meeting her caloric needs. She said, "Mom! I am even hungry when I am eating!!! That is how hungry I am!"

**
Hattie needed a quick bath after a spaghetti dinner. Rory said I could just hand her to him quickly while he took a shower so it wouldn't be so long of an ordeal. Hattie did not enjoy the 90 second experience at all, yelling, "all done! all done!" the whole time. Rory said he was ready to pass her off, and I was ready with a big towel. As soon as I had her in the towel she raised her hands and repeated with quiet crying relief, "Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah," glad that was over.

**
And this one actually happened a few weeks ago, and I wrote it down immediately after it happened when Rory brought me a pen and my journal. I had just told him and he said, "please get that on paper." So here it is, straight from my journal.

Elsie came into the bathroom after they had been tucked in while I was in the bath. She stood on the step stool and looked at herself in the mirror and told me with great animation and exaggerated expressions, "Mom, for my 20 birthday I want to get my ears pierced because it will hurt like a shot but then I'll have sparkle jewels and then my hair will be to my knees like Laura Ingalls and I can take you shopping so you have something beautiful. And I'll wear one of your necklaces, probably not your white circle one (pearls) because that was your grandma's and very special to you, but probably this circle one with the sparkles because you'll probably have a new one. And I'll wear my bracelet from church and I'll be so beautiful because I'll be all jeweleried! And mom! We will paint our toenails because the polish will probably be off! So when I am (said quietly to herself 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20) nineteen we can paint our nails so that when I am 20 they are dry! And I would like you to paint your fingers because that is prettier. An you should cut your hair a little bit so it grows faster and longer down to your knees like Laura!"

**
Elsie said, "Mom, when it is my birthday no one can cry or be mean or be sassy. Because that is my special day. They can only cry if they get really hurt, like bleeding and need a band aid."

**
Elsie has a little wall art that says, "sisters make the best friends." She looked at it and said, "mom, look for a little sign on your computer to hang on my wall that says, "Brothers and Sisters make the jolliest of friends."

...and a picture...

My sister called today and said that I can't write about how big I am without posting a picture. Ha! I get that. So here is a picture from the wedding. In full disclosure, this is the best (most flattering) picture of me from the batch (kankles cropped) from that day. Because I have my dignity.

But I was told by my doctor yesterday that the baby is for sure 8 pounds already. And growing!

how big is becca?

So big!

This pregnancy has taken the cake for not-recommended-pregnancy-comments. I have heard it all, starting at 32 weeks when a woman said, "you must be due any day now!" And I had to tell her that no, I still had TWO months to go. I have a little tally list of people asking "are you positive it's not twins?!!" Even one who followed up, "and you had a full ultrasound? and they're sure there isn't another hiding in there?" And just today the receptionist at my doctors office said, "It's gotta be twins!" The receptionist at an OB clinic. Come on!

But the very best comment was this weekend at a wedding. In my large state I was trying to look inconspicuous when I clearly am not. One of my very favorite girls from church who is 6th or 7th grade came up to me and asked, "when are you having your baby again?" And I told her I still had three weeks to go. Then she carefully looked from my belly down to my ankles, scanning slowly all the way back up to my face and asked sincerely, "Do you like being that big?"

I might have been offended if I hadn't had so many weeks of comments to thicken my skin. So I laughed hard at her very honest question. And I told her, "you know, I definitely feel big and it's not always comfortable. But the amazing thing to me is that there is a fully developed human being inside of my body. That's why I'm so big...because my body is growing an entire life, and all that is needed to grow that baby is packed inside of me. The more I think about that, the more amazed I am that the whole thing can happen at all. And then I actually love being this big because being pregnant is really amazing."

36 weeks!

Early on in this pregnancy I felt waves of nervousness about the labor and delivery. After Hattie's 54 hour labor, that would obviously be quite normal! I had about a month where I thought about it a lot and hoped that maybe I would have an easy labor since the last one was such a doozie.

But then my cousin Sarah went way past her due date in December with her 5th child just like I had with Hattie. And I remembered the truth of every pregnancy: when the time finally arrives, you are ready to do whatever it takes to bring that baby out of your body and into the world. It's what makes this last month bearable. Because all of the wakeful nights, round ligament pains, pinched nerves and general discomfort are all leading up to one glorious end. And at this point, knowing the baby growing strong, you are ready to get to meet your babe.

The truth is, I love being pregnant and knowing there is a life growing in my womb. I love that thought and I have enough friends who would give anything for that feeling that I will never complain about being pregnant. I may hobble and I may groan and be uncomfortable, but I will always be grateful.

I'll be grateful even when I walk into a church conference at 32 weeks pregnant and the lady, who I don't know at all taking registrations yells, "Twins!" Even when another woman at that same conference said, "Due any moment! How exciting!" Even when everywhere I turn comments are made about how huge I am. I'm growing a life. I'm bigger this time than with the last three. But again, I'm growing a life. What gives!

That said, I am feeling better about the labor and delivery part. In a crazy twist, we are about to change hospitals and doctors so that more of our care will be covered by our insurance. It feels sort of late in the game, but 1) it will save us a ton of money (!!!) and 2) we "switched" our game plan mid (homebirth) labor last time, ending up in a new hospital with a new doctor while fully in labor, so four weeks feels like plenty of time!

I am preparing in other ways too. A few days ago the "before baby arrives" list came out, and Rory has dutifully been checking one task off each night. Probably the biggest "to do" is getting the second crib set up in Ivar and Elsie's room so that Hattie can join the fun of sibling sleepovers. I anticipate an adjustment period, but I think she'll likely love being one of the crew in their room.

And as always, I feel like there are items I would gladly endorse...things that make my life immeasurably better: First, Liquid Iron. Even if you are not pregnant but feel low energy give this a try. It doesn't taste delicious, but I LOVE the stuff because it feels like magic in my bones. I drink my tablespoon and within an hour feel my energy rise. It is incredible. I would go door to door to sell it.

I am wearing my bracoo belly band every single waking moment. It is not just a stretchy piece of fabric. It is more like a man-made muscle. It holds my belly up for me and I can function fine when I am wearing it. If I don't wear it, it feels like something falls out of place and I end up with a hurting back or pain in my legs. But if I wear it, I am fully able to do what I need to do.

And once again of all the pregnancy pillows the boppy wedge is still my favorite. I use that under my belly and a flat pillow between my legs and that's all I need for a semi-comfortable night's rest. I still wake up for a few hours each night and I try not to think about it too much or be too bothered. It means I'm tuckered before my day even begins, but I usually lay down for a while when Hattie is napping and that helps all around.

So that's my life at 36 weeks. I can hardly believe we are already this far along...life is about to change again in major ways and I don't feel quite ready. But I know from the others that a new baby is best enjoyed with a one-day-at-a-time set of expectations. So that is what I will expect...to take all that is ahead one day at a time. It's exciting to be getting so close!

mary, painter of nails.

I just finished painting Elsie's finger and toe nails, "in a beautiful pattern, pink, blue, pink, blue, pink blue. I love patterns don't you, mom?" And she told me "let's pretend I'm a 16 year old girl, because that's a big girl, and that my dad just dropped me off at your nail place to have my nails painted all by myself because I'm 16, which is big enough to do that." I told her the name of my nail studio was "Becca's Beautiful Nails" and that I was one of the best nail painters in the world. She said, "well not the whole world. That would be Mary. She would be the best, right? Because she had Jesus!"

Just when I had finished, Elsie slipped a bit off the toilet seat and smudged four nails in the mayhem. And Becca at Becca's Beautiful Nails had to paint over the messed up paint job, sigh about the polish on her shower curtain that was grabbed in the near accident and laugh at the hilarity of it all. I am actually terrible at painting nails but have found it doesn't ever matter how nice they look because there usually is quite a bit of smudging before they completely dry anyway. Perfection is never the goal...Mary probably painted perfect nails, I can never live up. But I will keep painting her smudgy nails because I love the time with my daughter. I love it so, so much.

the happiest day of my life

We have friends who are getting married on Sunday and it has had me thinking a whole lot about our own wedding day. I tell every engaged couple that the happiest day of my life was the day after our wedding, after the gift opening, when it was just Rory and I wearing normal clothes, driving up to Lake Superior for our honeymoon. I realized at some point in the drive that all I had just signed up for was to live out the rest of my days with my best friend. And I had chosen a good guy. I knew it. The actual wedding day had been so full of emotion and feelings and a general sense of overwhelm. I cared what other people thought, I wanted to be sure everyone enjoyed everything. I carried the weight of 500 guests on my shoulders and the actual wedding was awesome, but intense and exhausting.

It was that next day sitting in the car together, beginning the rest of our normal lives, that I heaved a sigh of relief. And felt so glad that Rory and I were bound together for life. It just felt so good and right.

And now, almost 12 years later, Rory and I are living out our covenant vows in ways we never saw coming. These days we find ourselves taking Hattie to lots of appointments together and walking a road we wouldn't choose for our little girl. It's still full of uncertainties and there actually isn't anything concrete to report, but we've been to see her doctors a few times and will be going to see them again, running all sorts of tests. And each time we arrive in the waiting room and Rory signs us in and I entertain our kids I feel the same heave of relief, so glad that we are bound together for life.

It has me thinking about how important that decision is when you choose who you will marry. And how I would personally like to sit down with every young girl I know and explain what it means to marry a man. A man who carries the responsibility of his family on his shoulders, understanding his important role as a father and a husband. A man who carries the burden of providing for his family. A man who knows that he is the very most important part of passing on a living faith in Jesus to his children.

I'm just so glad that the Becca-in-a-white-dress married Rory, a man who is fully invested in her and their family. When you get married it is hard to imagine what it might feel like when you "grow in love." But lately I am feeling our roots growing deeper and it is amazing.

(And lest you think all is always perfect...I always like to link to this post I wrote on marriage counseling and how the Godly counsel we received for three months during our tenth year of marriage changed the foundation of our relationship in mighty and miraculous ways.)

the babymoon I can't wait for.

These are the darling flowers my sister-in-law Lisa brought to the hospital after Hattie was born. She's got all my favorites in there...

So we aren't going on a babymoon this time around. We usually take two nights and head to Lake Superior or last time we went to Lanesboro, but we're in a funny season now where leaving this farm is quite the ordeal, it is planting season, getting our kids situated and then us situated sounds sort of overwhelming plus we are still waiting for one little lamb to be born. Hard to leave written instructions for that one!

Honestly, life feels full enough and a while back I sincerely resigned that this is just not the season for getaways. We've brought these little people into the world, and I'm fine staying with them until they're all of an easier age for others (and they'd rather be with us too... and I'm fine with that.)

That said, I have been daydreaming lately of the getaway we have planned right around June 20th. I think about it quite often, actually. And it's because when we were on this getaway last time, my face mostly looked like this:

And my face looked that happy because this place was dreamy. I picked up the phone to order my food for every meal. I could order anything on the menu. And when it came, it looked like this:

This place was also dreamy because we chose to power down from the world while we were there. We never turned on the tv. I never checked my phone. I don't even remember Rory checking his laptop. We had just had a baby, and in a day of constant accessibility it seemed this was a great reason to tell others we were inaccessible.

We basically stayed in our room for two whole days, door closed. We napped (double bed!), we listened to The Burning Edge of Dawn and Floodplain albums on repeat, we soaked in our sweet baby Hattie Joy, we prayed so many tearful prayers of thanksgiving for her life. We welcomed each nurse that came in and offered to change her diaper and measured the time only by when it was time to order my next meal. A job that I felt very able to do, happy to order every single thing that sounded delicious on the menu.

I loved our stay at the hospital so much that I was weepy leaving. It was a holy time for us. And even on Hattie's first birthday I asked Rory if we could go eat at the hospital cafeteria because the food was so good. He politely declined, but even still when I see our little hospital I get all sentimental as if it were a fun resort where we enjoyed a super special weekend.

And now we get to go back! Sure I have to work real hard to be there. And sure that's going to hurt real bad. But after that part, the vacation part begins! The part with perfect crushed ice, magical platters of delicious prepared food. The part with uninterrupted naps, baby gazing, tuning the whole world out and focusing on the things that matter most: my man and my new baby.

I cannot wait.

a very normal mother's day...

This isn't about Mothers Day. This is about a typical day as a mother. Actually, more about the ebb and flow of life as a mother.

Yesterday I woke up with the kids. This isn't a great idea but I'm living large these days and find myself wide awake right around 2:30 in the morning for an hour or two. It makes me not quite ready for the day when it's time to get up. So I rolled out of bed and got Hattie and marched us downstairs where we ate breakfast for an hour. I'm not sure why it takes that long, but there were lots of needs and a counter full of dirty dishes that needed to be loaded into the waiting-to-be-unloaded dishwasher.

The kicker is that the whole time I just wanted to be in the shower. And I kept getting distracted from making my coffee. And I kept thinking about how hungry I was, but getting my eggs made seemed to be the last priority on the list.

The morning sort of just went from there. My kids needed me in every way possible. There were slivers that needed to be removed, spills at breakfast, scraped knees on the driveway. And I just wasn't ready for it. I wasn't ready for them. I still had my list of needs and none of them were getting met. No ones needs were getting met.

Now I want to pause right here and clarify one thing. It is okay to make kids wait. And it is okay to not meet their needs right in that very moment. But in this instance, I knew very well that it was my own lack of preparation for the day that was turning the whole day south. If I had just gotten up an hour before them I could have showered, put my contacts in, made my coffee, eaten my breakfast and read by Bible all before the kids woke up... and the entire trajectory of our day would have been set in a better direction.

At one point I was posting a picture on instagram and the kids ran upstairs to get bubble gum and that which quickly devolved into an Ivar-Elsie yelling spat about gum size that woke a sleeping Hattie. And the anger I felt in that moment was hot and furious. Because then I had a crabby baby all the rest of the day added to an already challenging day. But you know what? The whole gum suggestion was because I wanted some quiet to post a picture on my phone. Again, I have to own that one.

So last night I told Rory about the whole derailed day and we made a plan for me to get up and to be ready for the masses to wake up with their many needs. I took a shower, put my contacts in, got fully ready, drank my coffee, ate my breakfast and read my Bible. And when my kids came trickling downstairs I was able to meet them and help them get their day started right too. Today has been completely different from yesterday. I wanted a do-over and I got it. We're all enjoying this day much, much more.

It was a good lesson for me. Both days are sort of "typical." Some days I'm on my game. Other days I'm not. It is certain that the whole calling of motherhood is a refining calling, ridding a girl of her own selfishness and helping her to learn selflessness. Putting the needs of others above herself day after day is definitely not natural. It goes against everything in my human nature. But it is a high calling and I believe it is fully worthwhile. And it means that I really should just set an alarm and meet my own needs before I meet the needs of the masses.

Motherhood is good. Happy Mother's Day! And happy every other day that you pour yourself out as a mother.

we've got names!

This picture has nothing to do with this post. But the boys did camp out on Saturday night and stayed out the whole night. In our hearts, summer is here!

All throughout this pregnancy Elsie has said to me, "mom, bend your belly like this." And she shows me how to get my head lower to where her head is. Then she tells me, "I'm going to whisper a good name for the baby and you're not going to laugh because I'm not being funny." And then she tells me her latest idea of a name. Usually it is some combination of sounds and utterances that do sort of make a name. Like "Sambata" or "Ralla." Then I have to stand back up again and tell her that I hadn't ever thought of that name, but I do like it. I'll talk to Dad about it.

Baby names is a big topic around here. I told the kids one name that I LOVE for a girl and they both busted out laughing. So we went a different direction.

But this is very odd. When I was pregnant with Ivar, I was walking around Lake Harriet and I remember feeling very settled on four baby names. Rory and I had narrowed our choices down and the four we had chosen were Ivar, Elsie, Harriet and _____. (A boys name.)

I remember recounting them in that order before Ivar was born. And then with each birth I have been quietly surprised that they are coming out in the gender order that I felt were our four names. I try to remember that moment seven years ago, wondering if maybe that was the Holy Spirit speaking to me, filling me in on the gifts I was about to be given. Or if I just coincidentally recited the names as boy, girl, girl, boy. Time will tell!

Of course, this next baby could easily be a girl and we would be thrilled and grateful. A baby is a baby and a life is a life. We welcome this next child of ours with great enthusiasm and anticipation, believing God chose this specific life to join our family.

In terms of naming, this also means that we have our boys name set in stone (and have for seven years!), but have had a very hard time coming up with another girls name. Because we've already used up two we knew we loved. We have spent many car rides telling each other, "okay. we have to get serious about this. what names are we thinking if it is a girl?" And man we have been stumped. It has been really hard this time around. We've had a few contenders but nothing that we felt settled on.

Until a few days ago. And now we've got a beautiful name that I love so much that if this baby is a boy, we may just have to have another so I can use the girl name next. :)

battening down the hatches

I woke up yesterday and could tolerate clutter no more. I'm basically at the stage of nesting where I just want my house empty. This has happened with each pregnancy, but especially with these later babies who have older siblings who help make the clutter mess. And nothing is safe. Throw pillows annoy me. Couch cushions. All things used to build a fort start to bug me because they can be moved. Basically, I want my house glued down in its most pristine state.

Anyway. There is one person in our family who seems to messy up our house more than the others. And not with couch cushions and art supplies, but with silverware, clean dish towels, shoes and boxes of unused band aids. Not to point any fingers, but if we took a family vote for messiest member, Hattie would win the election. Yes, she's darling. But she's also quite destructive.

And we've been so slow on the draw with this one! For six months we've been complaining of the way she undoes the house thinking it was just a phase. But this phase doesn't seem to be passing anytime soon. So this week Rory has been screwing every cabinet and drawer we have with a child-proof latch and Hattie is not pleased. But everyone else is. Low book shelves have been emptied. Any bins without a lid have been placed up high. Our house has become terribly boring and I am strangely pleased. :)

for the love of a good book

The year before Hattie was born, Rory and I took a monthly trip to attend a Christian Writer's Association meeting. It was always interesting and super informative and I left inspired each time. We would drop our kids off at Mimi and Papa's and make the trek, 3 hours in the car for the 2 hour meeting with a stop at Jimmy John's on the way.

While at one of these meetings we purchased a book by the speaker that night and it sat on my shelf until this winter when I finally cracked it. And then I couldn't put it down and finished the whole thing by the next night.

It was a Christian Novel, and admittedly, I had judged a whole lot of books by their cover (seems to be a lot of Amish love stories out there...) and disregarded the whole genre. But I have been sucked in every since. And can I tell you what the Christian Novel is all about?!! It's basically book form of a Hallmark movie where you know the ending will be good, you'll feel resolution and the story line is strangely enjoyable all the while.

It's like mindless television, but good. The content is good and wholesome. And each story is full of redemption. My mother-in-law gave me one at Christmas that I absolutely adored about Robert E. Lee's wife and her favorite slave. It was fascinating, and because it was historical fiction, led me to all sorts of other readings on the Lee family and Arlington.

Anyway, this is my plea for you to give the Christian Novel a try. Or, if you already are reading in this world, let me know which authors and books your recommend!

Here's the bottom line: if you watch a movie or a tv show made in 2017 you are definitely not guaranteed a happy ending. Hollywood loves hopelessness. They love to have us "sit in it" and feel that deep despair without any glimmer that things might get better. I can think of a number of recent movies that just leave you depressed.

And that is fine for the world. Because the world is rather hopeless. But as Christians we have hope eternal. We know the ending of this story we are living and we know the victory is ours through Jesus. That's not cliche because there is a dueling reality that I believe is more true than the sorrow and despair that we see all around. This world is not our home. The story is still playing out, and God's hope is that the ending for each one of us is a happy one. He wants full restoration with us. He wants our broken stories redeemed through his son.

So when I read these Christian Novels they all have the same ring of truth and the same ring of hope that I know to be true. And it's such a better use of my time and life to dwell on things hopeful, than to let the screen shape my worldview and fill it with unending pain and despair. Bleh. We have that all around us in real form. But the Bible writes of a hope greater and that's the story I want to fill my days.

Here's a couple favorite novels (all very different from each other) to pass along:

Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Gray: a Novel. By Dorothy Love. Charlotte Mason is the education model I appreciate the most and one of her biggest points is to let good stories teach your children, not text books. I learned more about the civil war, slavery, and that whole time period from this story (and then later research because I was interested...) Let me know if you have any other favorite historical fiction books you'd recommend. I'm so interested.

Love Comes Softly by Janette Oke (written in 1979, before I was born and a favorite by many I am told. I read this first book in the series the last two nights. I loved it and cannot wait for the next books to arrive at the library for me!)

North Star Brides by Erica Vetch (this was the one that started my christian fiction spurt. Erica is a Minnesota author and was the speaker at the meeting that night. The book is set in Duluth and since I adore the North Shore, it was an easy sell. I loved this book (3 great love stories) and bashfully gave it to my sister telling her not to judge me. But then she loved it too!)

City of Tranquil Light by Bo Caldwell (still a favorite that I wish everyone would read. The author is retelling the story of her missionary grandparents in China. It's historical fiction, but based on their actual life happenings. I still reread the last few chapters every now and again.)