You might have noticed that I got my momentum back.  Maybe not all the way, but at least a bit of it.  I kicked off this blogging streak at the beginning of March.  There was a sudden flurry of DRRF activity with posts about Little Bear’s baby blessing, our Christmas countdown, the kids telling their versions of the Christmas story, our new valentine traditions and Christopher growing up way too quickly– and you may ask,

At the beginning of March, RRL and I left our 3 biggests at home (supervised, of course) to have tons of fun going to the science museum, TCBY, and all kinds of other rumpus with two of their favorite adults (THANKS C&H!!!!).

While we headed out on an adventure with baby C, his first time on an airplane.

We met my parents in Nashville first for coffee, conversation (crazy how much easier that is with 3 less kiddos),

Bright and early the next morning, we loaded up and drove to our next destination- the sandy gulf beaches. 

Mom and I were running/walking a half marathon (she walked, I had to run to keep up) and Daddy, RRL and Little Bear came along to cheer. 

BUT WE WERE TOTALLY IN IT FOR THE EXERCISE.

We then proceeded to spend the rest of the weekend doing a whole lot of
absolutely.positively.glorious.NOTHING.

And blogging, reading (I actually finished a whole book), napping, eating, snacking, movie watching.
WITH my parents, my husband and my sweet baby boy.
It was miserable 🙂

While we were growing up, my mom used to remind us that a parent’s primary job is NOT to be their kids’ best friend.  And my parents were pretty true to that word- often making hard decisions that wouldn’t win them a teen popularity contest.  There are few things I’d thank my parents more for.  And as a result, at 30 (something-ish-cough), I can honestly say that spending a weekend with my parents is one of my very favorite things.  Thanks for an awesome weekend!!!

ABL

But as I opened the frame on my desk, I noticed the yellowed edges of the picture it contained. The picture stuck a little to the glass it had been there so long. I had to scan it for this post because the idea of a digital copy barely even existed then. 

We didn’t know that for a while he’d do laundry, while I worked long hours.

We didn’t know we’d go on to have four beautiful children.
We didn’t know that sometimes we’d have seven.
We didn’t know that it would take us YEARS to build a community.
We didn’t know that once we did, it would be with friends we love so deeply.
We didn’t know about the homes we would create in our apartment or houses.
We didn’t know that we STILL wouldn’t be living in Nashville.
We didn’t know about a Grand Canyon Backpacking trip or a week-away in NYC together.
We didn’t know that our trip to England would still be a “someday”
We didn’t know what tired REALLY meant.

We didn’t know we couldn’t WILL marriage to be easier.

We didn’t know for better or worse. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health.

I’m keeping this one close.

Sure, growing up can be hard.
So can remembering the right words to classic songs (like the fact that AFTER I cleverly named this post, I remembered that the song is breaking up, not growing up.  awkward).

ANYWAY
This year, with KJ starting “big school” we’ve definitely experienced some of the hard parts of growing up.  Days when it just doesn’t seem FAIR that he has to go to school while Cbug and Lou have fun at home together.  Days when he would really rather run and play than do homework.  Days when he’s not so sure that “setting a good example” as the oldest kiddo is really a role he wanted to sign up for.

BUT

More than that- watching KJ grow up has been full of some super sweet moments lately.  He is learning so much, changing so much, making great choices for himself.  In short- I couldn’t be prouder of him.

I’ve already talked about his new found freedom on two wheels.  Here are a few other “big” moments for him lately:

He read 100 books for school.  This was a huge accomplishment that he has been working on all school year.  5 books from 10 different categories had to be from “the list” and then 50 were “free choice”.  His reading skills really have just exploded this year.  I’m amazed at what he can read.

He lost his first tooth (swallowed it, actually, in a rice krispie treat).  And then negotiated the price of the tooth (pretty sure he knows about the ‘ole TF- he mentioned she has “brown hair”- but he’s playing along).  I had no idea what the going rate was for a small front tooth, but after we bantered back and forth we determined that $0.50 for small teeth and $1.00 for the big ones seemed reasonable. 
(hey, his tooth fairy has four mouth fulls of these suckers to pay out on.  can’t set the standard too high.  Especially when my kids are used to getting paid in nickles and pennies.)
It’s a good thing I kept it reasonable, too, because just 3 days later he lost the second one.
AND he already has “adult teeth” growing.  I’m telling ya- he’s big time.

He FINALLY got to fly his kite.  You know, the one he got for his birthday last May but just now got to take out of the package.  The one that stayed in the package so long he pretty much memorized the safety instructions on the back because he read them so many times.  Yeah, that one.  Once we got it out and put together, he mastered the flying of it quickly and actually was better than me at keeping it in the air.  And to make him EVEN MORE grown up, he taught his brother and sister how to “tug gently,” too. I.LOVE.HIM.

He is always a helper.  At Easter hunts, he put eggs in littler kids baskets, he helps smaller kids in games even if it means he doesn’t get to win, he is quick to sweetly include his tag-along- sister and he sits by his baby brother in the car and helps by entertaining him.

There may be some tough moments in this “growing up” business.  But I’m sure loving all of the milestones along the way.
Sure love this biggest boy of ours!
ABL

Yesterday was Friday.
Tomorrow is Sunday.
But today.  Today is Saturday.

On Friday we recognize the agony.  The pain.  The torture-beyond-imagination that our Savior endured.
On Sunday we relish in the HOPE of his resurrection.  Christ, our RISEN Lord.

But today.  Today is Saturday.

In our Bible class, leading up to Easter, we’ve been lead through thinking about the emotions, the decisions, the experiences of those that were following Jesus.  They first watched his death and then experienced him whole again.  Disciples heard his cry to his Father as he died and then touched his wounded hands when he came back to them.  Women went and saw that his body had been placed in a tomb and then went back and found the same tomb empty.  They were there.

And they also had Saturday.

As we’ve talked about the journey those close to Jesus walked, I’ve wondered a lot about Saturday.  The Bible doesn’t say much about what that Sabbath day was like for them.  They certainly did not know what Sunday would look like, yet.  We know they weren’t certain that he would be fully ALIVE on Sunday because that day the women went to “treat” his body- hardly necessary if he was going to be alive.

They HOPED.  Oh, they hoped.  But would he really walk among them again?  Even the most faithful had to wonder. 
“If this was the end, the gruesome end, what did it all mean?  How in the world do we just go back to our normal lives?  If he was dead- really gone- could we really just go back to fishing, after leaving everything to follow him?  What could we possibly do with all that we have seen and experienced.  The authority with which he taught.  The miracles. The healing.  The lessons of  REPENTANCE AND REDEMPTION.”

What did they do?  How did they wait?
On Saturday.

This question resonates deeply with me right now. 
I believe that he faced a gruesome and torturous death and took with him the sins of the world.  My sins.  I know that no pain I’ve experienced comes close to what he endured.  And as a result, I believe he meets me when I’m enduring life’s pains.  He knows about Friday.  (read this awesome blog that my sweet friend, Courtney, wrote  last year- The King of Friday).

AND I believe that he ROSE again.  Miraculously, and just as he foretold, he came back on Sunday to walk among those that loved Him.  He died, but in the end he conquered death for all of us.  He created the HOPE of Sunday.

When we come through pain- through the times of life the knock us up one side and down the other- sometimes the thought of “going back to normal” is just as difficult as walking through the tragedy, the unexpected, the loss. The idea that the rest of the world is going on about their day while you are remembering yesterday’s pain is almost too much to bare. You can cling to the hope of Sunday, you can believe with all your might that redemption is coming, that He walks with you, but what about the between.  The wait. That day is Saturday.
I believe he knows about Saturday, too.

He knows about my Saturdays.  The days when I look back and see how he remembered our family through great pain.  That he carried us in so many ways through a dark and difficult time.  AND I can look forward with great anticipation and hope, fully believing that he is going to redeem every.single.ounce of it.  I do not fully know what it will look like, but I do believe that he is MIGHTY to save US.  I know Sunday is certainly coming. In some ways Sunday comes in the bits of hope we experience each day. 

But on Saturday, I stand between the two.  On Saturday I wonder how to just keep doing real life.  On Saturday, the pain I saw and experienced is so much a part of me, I can’t help but wonder what I’m supposed to do with it.  Even though I cling to the hope of Sunday with all my human might, there are Saturdays.  On Saturday,  I wonder if anyone else remembers, and question even whether it was worth it. 

Right now I feel surrounded by Saturdays.
Thank goodness He knows about Saturday.

He knows about my sweet friends who sent their baby to heaven much too soon.  They came through the pain of his death, and they wait in confidence for the day they’ll meet him again.  But today, today is their Saturday.

He knows about children who long for parents.  Much too early in their little lives, they’ve seen the pain of a home broken apart.  And they are learning about a God who is forever their Father, who will never disappoint their HOPE, who keeps his promises.  But today.  Today is their Saturday.

He knows about my sweet friend whose health means she’ll never have more children.  She’s experienced the pain of that news.  And she has great hope knowing that the Lord will redeem the plans she has relinquished for what her family “should” look like.  But today.  Today is her Saturday.

He knows about the marriages of friends I love.  The marriages that have been on the brink of disaster.  The marriages that are making a choice to cling to the hope of what they Lord can renew.  But for now, they wait.  They work.  They struggle.  Today.  Today is their Saturday.

He knows about the day(s) that follow the pain, while we wait. We don’t wait without hope. We don’t wait without faith. But some days we do have to wait. Wait to see. While we trust deep down that Sunday is coming, on Saturday we wait.  And sometimes the waiting, even while believing, is hard.

That’s why I’ve been thinking about Saturday.  I ache at the thought of these Saturdays for those I love. 
Yesterday was Friday
Tomorrow is Sunday.
But today. Today is Saturday.

I can’t take away Saturday, and I’m not sure I really want to- its the crucial link between our Fridays and our Sunday.  Saturday is the day we experience faith before sight.  The day we pray expecting miracles.  The day we wait in quiet knowing the power of the Lord will be fully revealed.  Saturday is not without hope. 

And the Hope of Saturday is in the one with whom we wait.  The one who has experienced Saturday to the fullest.  The one who is Lord of Saturday, just like He is over Friday and Sunday.

Please don’t let the enemy fool you into thinking that you wait alone.
EVER.
He waits with you.
ALWAYS.
And Sunday really is coming.

ABL

If there was ever a season aptly named for our family it would be “March Madness”.

I mean, on top of the everyday madness of four children under age 7:
75% of which can take care of their own “potty” needs
50% of which can bathe themselves
0% of which can transport themselves (unless you count bicycles), or plan their own meals.

In every other “season” of the year the six of us work hard to function as one team.
But for two weeks out of the year- it is every man for himself (bracket-ly-speaking).
You make your own selections, choose to seek counsel or not, root for your team, and hope that this is YOUR year.
.
It doesn’t matter how savvy you are at your research, how much basketball you’ve watched to date, or whether your confidence in your selections is any reflection of your ability to even spell the team names.  Really, any man or woman, boy or girl, has a shot at the family crown.
And bonus: for a short period of time, the TV (and sometimes other devices necessary to catch cable games) are ON. All day. 
MADNESS, I tell ya.

This year’s selection methods:

Cbug and Lou- selections based on team colors.

as you can see, the luck of choosing some crazy upsets sets two of our munchkins out to an early lead (a big one).

ABL

Thanks so much to all of you who took the time to interact with the conversation about holiday celebrations via facebook, blog comments, private messages, and face to face.  I loved all of the different perspectives.  And I especially loved being reminded how blessed I am to be surrounded by so many moms doing so much each day to make a difference in the lives of their children.  We approach it in as different of ways as we are different people, but it is so encouraging to know that we’re in it together.

So, speaking of taking time to celebrate…
That’s exactly what we did last weekend.

And then, because the celebration couldn’t be limited to just one day.
We made a weekend of it.
We played at the park

And played at the house.

We also had an (early) Easter celebration together.  Including a fun lunch and hunt at Grammy’s house.

And some fancy Easter clothes pictures together before the festivities ended on Sunday. 

My sweet niece telling everyone who would listen that her cousin, Lou, picked out that new dress for her, was worth the cost of the dress and then some (especially since it was super on sale).  I loved watching the two of them so giddy about dressing up together.

And then there’s these hams.  My musclemen.  Gotta love ’em.

So, there ya have it.  A smack-in-the-middle-of-March celebration worth remembering.
ABL

Of course there were also parts, not mentioned here, worth forgetting.  Which is why they aren’t mentioned!  Just picture seven children under the age of 7, one potty training, one crawling and putting everything in his mouth, and 5 others oblivious to how this might make it impossible for me to pay attention to each of them without ceasing.  And yeah, you’ll get a pretty good picture of the chaos.  Happy chaos.  But chaos none-the-less.

Lou and I were treated to something special on Sunday when the children’s ministry hosted “Three Cheers for Tea”, a tea for mothers and daughters.

There is a lot I could say about this fun hour together, but I think I’ll just leave it to this one photo.  Because this moment for Lou was BIG TIME.

You wouldn’t know it from this evidence, but it took her a long while to work up the courage to take a picture with the “real cheerleaders”.  Once she did, though, it was a HIGHLIGHT of her little life. She was beside herself with delight.

I’m an ordinary mom.
I have four (and on some weekends- seven) pretty ordinary kids.

Hear me out on this one.

But first
If you haven’t already read “Rage Against the Mini Van’s” call to bring the holidays down a notch.  Start there.  It has caused quite a stirring amongst my facebook friends so I’d venture to guess you’ve come across it already.  I’ll tell you my two reactions:
1) PREACH IT!  I’m so over the purposeless-excess at holidays (and I’m terrified of a sneaky elf that watches us).  I’m so far from crafty, I can’t even tell you how much the very thought of “helping” my children make things for their classmates makes me sweat.
2) But WAIT.  Isn’t there more to holidays? More to motherhood?  More than just survival, doing the minimum, making it through each day? **

Did you see this video?  From a mom, years ago, about her ordinary days with her (now grown) sons?

At first the two may not seem all that related, but last night, as I tried to figure out what bothered me about the first, I realized that the answer was found in the second.

My problem with holiday-overkill IS NOT that I think I could ever do too much to celebrate with my children.  EVER.  I love the moments we stop to create traditions.  Traditions like our Christmas countdown, or remembering Pi Day  (a day that changed our family).  Traditions like reading with their Nonna on Christmas Eve or taking pictures in the pumpkin patch each October.  Traditions like we started this year, of praying together at the playground on the First-Day-Of-School-Eve.  Traditions we’ve learned from others and traditions we’ve created or adapted to fit our family.  Traditions in which we stop to celebrate. Together.  Traditions in which we try to teach our children a bit about loving each other and extending love to others.  There’s not an ounce of that I want to take down a notch. Not one.

In fact, why wait for a holiday.  What about that 20 minutes of reading, the mathfacts, or the eating dinner together?  You know. The Ordinary.  Can’t those be filled with JOY.  Can’t we move them off a checklist of “to be done before bedtime” and count them among our ordinary blessings.  **

Now wait, don’t roll your eyes yet. 

I know Know KNOW that some days aren’t too fun with a capital F-U-N.  Trust me, I know.  Remember, my child hid in the grocery store and pooped in his underwear, and another one attended a birthday party we weren’t invited to, and family pictures aren’t always what they seem.  And those are just the ones I’ve blogged about.  In fact, I’m only finding time to blog right now because I’m home with a sleeping kiddo who isn’t feeling well.  Totally rearranged all of our plans for the next couple of days.  Wouldn’t necessarily put that in the category of FUN.

I, too, battle the inner “if they don’t start soccer before kindergarten OH MY WORD how will we ever afford college without a scholarship” and the “if they wrestle with each other to the point of death ONE MORE TIME I just might go CRAZY.”  Seriously.  Everyday. 

Instead, my problem with holiday-overkill is that sometimes the moms outdoing each other via extraordinary treats sent to school and birthday parties that are the envy of our social circles takes away from the very point- the together.  the ordinary. sometimes we miss THEM, our little ordinaries (our children) in the middle of what we are doing “for them”.  It might take some energy, it might take some thought, it WILL take a lot of prayer. But isn’t it worth it, to celebrate JOY in the ordinary.  AND BONUS- it turns out, since a lot of us happen to agree with the notions in the blog about taking the holidays down a notch, we have some energy available to redirect.

There has to be more to motherhood than just surviving.
There has to be more to motherhood than competing and outdoing.
There is JOY to be found in the ordinary.
And we can encourage each other to find it.
And here’s the thing.
THE BIG THING.
You can make your ordinary EXTRAORDINARY.  And it wasn’t my idea.
It has little to do with how BIG you do holidays, whether you do anything the “right way”, whether your kids were ever the very best at ANYTHING.
It has everything to do with how and why you do this job called motherhood (or parenthood).
Its from John Chapter 3, verse 21
NIV: But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.
The Message: But anyone working and living in truth and reality welcomes God-light so the work can be seen for the God-work it is.
Did you know that verse was written for parents?  Ok, so maybe not exclusively.  But lately it has been my encouragement in all of this.  I’m not extraordinary because of what I do.  Not to my children and not to others watching me parent.  Not because I’m getting everything right (in fact, some days I’m not getting ANYTHING right).  If any GOOD comes from me, if any JOY extended to my children its because of the TRUTH. The light I’m choosing to stand in is not one I can create, but it certainly is one I can reflect.
In Holidays. And in Ordinary Days.

I’m an ordinary mom.
I have four (and on some weekends- seven) pretty ordinary kids.
Only to me, they aren’t.
And I have a feeling that to them, I’m not either.
Maybe someday I’ll tell them the truth, about being ordinary.
But each day I hope to SHOW THEM the TRUTH about being extraordinary.
We celebrate together.
With great JOY.
And we’re taking that UP a NOTCH.

 Hopefully that’s a movement you can get on board with. 
ABL

**I don’t know the author of that blog.  I think she is hilarious.  I am not saying that I think she doesn’t find this kind of joy in her parenting.  I just didn’t read it in this one post.