WAIT!  Before you get distracted looking at the four cutest pumpkins E-V-E-R…
Would you please take a minute to read my last post and consider helping us help teenagers?
Thank you!

Now, for some pumpkins…

It just so happens,

I picked the cutest four pumpkins in the patch.

And brought them home where they belong.

  

 

But these four of mine, they didn’t grow on a vine.

For every bit of color that the Lord pours into our lives

through pumpkins and fall leaves and green grass and trees,

How much more did He delight in designing and creating them!

  Thank you, Lord, for my Pumpkins! ABL    

If you haven’t been around deeprollingrightfield long enough to fully know the joy of this tradition for us, here is a clue.

 

You can read more about this favorite tradition

here, here, and here.

Thanks again, Cass and Cindi for loving them and capturing them! This may have been the best year yet.

  

We love you!

 

This week I’ve been mad.
Really mad.
Maybe more mad than I have ever been before.
Because when I think about all the hurt, the lack of resources for people that are hurting, how the choices of one person can impact generation after generation…
I GET MAD.

Lately my frustration has been pretty narrowly focused.
I HATE DRUGS.

And more than that, I hate when people are left in situations where they think drug abuse is their only choice.
A life that has been paved for them of sorrow, poverty, frustration, isolation, hopelessness.
And when an escape is offered, when drugs are offered, the choice seems simple.
Honestly, in the particular situation I’m closest to, I can see how they got there.  I can see why they feel trapped in a cycle that started generations before them.  I can see how they might think they’ll never have more.  I can see how they might think it is too late for anything better.

And I get mad.

Unfortunately I’ve seen first hand how hard it is to find resources for someone who is already in too deep.  I BELIEVE in MIRACLES.  And that’s a good thing, because that’s about the only hope for someone who has already chosen the life of an addict.  It shouldn’t have to get to that point.  It should be possible to help someone choose something different. Whether it is because someone should have told them. Or because they would not hear.  I wish they had seen the choice. Sooner.

And I get mad.
I want all seven of these faces to know they DO have a choice.  No matter what came before them.  No matter what the world tells them.  No matter how hard life is.  THEY can choose.

Sometimes when I get mad, I do something about it. But many times, I don’t.

The thing is, I’m married to someone who does something about it.  Every day.  He has chosen a profession in which he immerses himself in the lives of teenagers for one purpose.  To tell them SOONER. 
YOU HAVE A CHOICE.
You have a choice to live.life.better.
He works for Teen Lifeline.  A non-profit organization that tells teenagers “we will help provide you some tools to make that choice.”

When a freshman in high school was killed in a tragic lake accident this last Labor Day weekend
Teen Lifeline was there to tell teachers, students, parents- YOU have a choice.  This is hard.  Really hard.  But YOU get to decide how you walk through grief and how it impacts your life going forward.  Let us help you walk.

When students come to the local alternative school, they sometimes feel like they’ve already been pegged as hopeless.  But Teen Lifeline is there to tell them…YOU have a choice.  Let us help you make that choice through peer support groups.

When teen aged parents make a difficult decision that their child deserves to LIVE, Lifeline is there.  They provide resources for young parents who might see the situation as hopeless.  To hopefully provide a different start for that new life.  To maybe start paving a path for that baby to make choices someday to live their own life better.

And what’s more, Lifeline helps provide resources on social media, talking to your students about tough topics, and offers insightful seminars to discuss current information so that parents can also help make it clear to their kids- You DO have a choice.

And maybe, just maybe.  Of all of the teenagers encountered, at least a few will say
“I’m going to choose something different.  Something better.  I DO have a choice.”
Maybe a few will have opportunities to make those choices before its too late.
And when a student hasn’t heard that at home, at school, or in their community,
maybe Teen Lifeline is the only voice.

Would you help Teen Lifeline provide a choice.
Would you consider sponsoring our family team this month as we walk/jog/run together to raise money for this organization? 

ABL   If you would like to support Teen Lifeline and their efforts to provide a choice, here is the link to our fundraising page: TEAM LEWIS! Or, if you can’t contribute monitarily right now, would you consider passing along the link so that others can fight with us?

So, maybe its just me.
I see pictures on facebook. Read blogged stories. Watch families in the grocery store.
And compare.
I assume everyone else has everything figured out.  Their houses are clean. Their children behave. They pintrest their lives from top-to-bottom. CERTAINLY they keep their amazing topiaries that the previous home owners gifted them ALIVE. (ok, maybe that last part is just a personal battle)

Its probably just me.
But, I’m having to really struggle through learning to balance setting high standards with having unreasonable expectations.  Its only taken me 6+ years of parenting to come around to the notion that maybe it is a bit unrealistic to think that I can have four children, work part-time, keep my house clean and laundry done, decorate new home, keep social commitments, volunteer for EVERYTHING…and STILL keep the stinkin’ topiaries alive.  Yet, I still find myself getting emails asking for help (meals, volunteers, hostesses, etc) and immediately see flashing red lights that say EVERYONE ELSE IS DOING IT.  THEY’LL HATE YOU FOREVER IF YOU DON’T SIGN UP. QUICK. WRITE YOUR NAME. NOW.

This may sound completely ridiculous to you.  If so, I congratulate you for your ability to self-manage.  I applaud you for recognizing where your real priorities are.  I’m glad you don’t feel the need to compare yourself with others. I really am. And its something I’m working on releasing.

But. Just in case.
Just in case there are others of you that find yourself with the same conundrum…
I have a few things to confess.

I prefer my kids eat fresh fruits and vegetables at dinner every night.
But sometimes we eat cereal. FOR DINNER.

I love coming up with creative and intentional things to do with my children on our days at home together.
But sometimes I let them watch a movie.

I want to teach my kids to be responsible for their own belongings.
But sometimes I prefer to clean-up and organize the playroom myself.

I like to keep my home neat and organized.
But I’ve been paying someone else to do much of the actual cleaning for the last 4 years.

I like for my children to be clean and neatly dressed.
But there are times when I can’t remember the last time we bathed the baby.

I like to hear about the things my kids are learning at school and the people they are interacting with.
But sometimes after a long day at work, I just ask them to tell me something they like about ME.

When I’m with my kids in public, I like to maintain an appearance of being calm, cool and collected.
But typically I’m taking deep breaths, giving myself pep-talks and PRAYING (on the inside).

ALL that and…
I’ve mowed grass exactly NEVER.
I (still) occasionally drink straight out of the container.
My husband is usually the one who wakes up first when a child needs us in the night.
I nearly ALWAYS have a bag of peanut butter M&Ms hidden in the refrigerator.
AND I rarely wash my face before I go to sleep.
Gasp. I KNOW!

But the most recent amazing mom moment. And the real trigger for this post.  Is this:
I took my kids to the dentist this week.
For the first time.
EVER.
And KJ is six.
And if you think I didn’t beat myself up one side and down the other knowing I was going to have to face the DENTIST and tell him that I definitely BRUSH my children’s teeth, but have never actually been to visit someone in his profession. You’d be wrong. 

While my children played innocently in the waiting room, I felt like I was waiting outside the principal’s office.  I just knew I was going to be chastised. 

Because heaven knows I needed something else to forget to do.
And assume EVERY other mom IN.THE.WORLD is remembering to do it.
Making me…

And that’s when it hits me.  I already am.  I absolutely am the very best mom for KJ, Cbug, Lou and their baby brother who still doesn’t have a blog name.  And when I allow myself some freedom to learn and grow and improve, I actually enjoy the process.  So, starting with this less-traumatic-than-expected Dentist visit. I’m releasing myself to not be perfect. I’m releasing myself to live in this season of craziness and just be the best ME I can be.  And doncha just know it.  I happen to like myself better this way.  Tonight, we might even eat cereal (before we floss).

Shew, that feels better. Maybe, just maybe, if moms would do a better job of sharing what we are learning and not doing perfectly.  Maybe, if we join teams instead of competing. Maybe if we would tell about the time we forgot to (fill.in.the.blank)…
We might just be able to encourage each other along the way. 
But maybe, its just me.

ABL

HOWEVER.

10:30 Home. Watch a movie quietly. Until boys break out in full out wrestle and we have conversation number 28462984 about how we will (and won’t) behave in tuxedos later in the day.

5:55 Everyone ready to line up and KJ has to go to the bathroom.  Of course.  But he manages to make it out just in time.

6:00 Wedding about to begin. Leave kids with bridesmaids. Pray they’ll behave. Sneak to my assigned seat on the front row, where I join RRL and baby C- who is performing his wedding role brilliantly by being fast asleep.

6:45- Couldn’t see boys walk back down the aisle and make it out of the sanctuary.  But word has it they made it 3/4 of the way without racing. Success. 

It makes for a crazy day, but I love that my kids have had such fun opportunities to be apart of weddings at such an early age.  I love that they are learning, by watching, what it means to make this huge commitment.  Thanks, Mark & Rebekah, for setting such a beautiful example for them.

ABL

Well, folks.  They’ve been on a roll again.  And I’ve actually remembered to write a few down.

To the left, KJ and Cbug love to play pretend together.  After I showed them how, they made no less than 27 eye patches.  Because, as I’m sure you know, if two are great then 27 would be better.  They only stopped there because they ran out of pipecleaners.  So, they had to move on to actually playing pirates. Nearly everything they pretend leads to wrestling each other to the ground.  Is this normal?

  This isn’t really something KJ said, but I’ll throw it in here anyway.  I think the title “family-fun-homework” is a bit of a misnomer.  I’m not sure how it can really be FUN.  I tried.  Really I did.  But when I’m a realist to the nth degree, and the directions are to create a “self-portrait” and he wants it to look like this… Its just not fun for me.  I’m learning.  Really, I am.   I mean, I let him do it.  That’s huge.  So, Here is KJ.  See the resemblance?

Lou also LOVES to read to her babydolls.  She props them up and turns the book one-handed-teacher-style toward them while she “reads it”.  A few nights ago, she was sitting on the stairs reading Cinderella to them- one of her favorite princesses.  In her most serious teacher voice she told them to “listen carefully to the story of Cinderella…dressed in yellow…going upstairs to kiss a snake.  But HOW many doctors would it take?” Um, yeah.

We also had quite a conversation about the groom getting “adopted” by the brides parents at the wedding he was in.  But I’ll save that for another post.

Cbug, apparently, has already named his (future) five children.  And his monologue to us at dinner went something like this:
“The first will be Moses.
And then Mary.
and I’m going to pray that God gives me them together so they can be twins.
Next will be Joseph.
And last, Adam and Eve.
I know they were the first people ever created.  But they can be born after me, too.”

And later when RRL asked about the twins, Cbug said “Yeah, but I’m going to be the daddy.  So I’m going to be praying for God to give the mother twins for me”  Oh, Heaven help his sweet wife!  He’s making me take the parent’s prayer for future spouses to a whole new level.

That’s it for September, folks.  Can’t wait to see what comes out of their mouths this month!
ABL

– Cbug, upon arriving at the hospital to see his baby brother for the first time, touched my belly and then we had this conversation:

– Cbug is VERY literal right now. If you say it is about time to go, he is already in the van. If you say he can be finished eating, he is UP from the table and gone. So phrases from adults like “you are killing me” are not really best used in his presence- found that out the hard way.

– Lou got some nasty ant bites and for weeks has milked the fact that they were bothering her. Her favorite line was “I need a drink of wat-uh. My daddy said the doc-tuh wants me to have a lot of wat-uh to make my ant bites healed.” Cbug, upon hearing her say this recently, decided to correct her. “Nuh-uh, sister. The doctors are wrong. Only God can heal you.” Bless his sweet little literal heart.

– Then there was the time my own words about waiting until 30 to get married came back to bite me in this conversation with KJ-
o KJ: “Mom, how old were you had me?”
o Me: “About 27 ½”

o KJ (in sheer shock): “WHAAAAAAAATTT???? How could you have a baby before you were old enough to get married?”

– Lou is a little Mommy by nature. She mothers her younger brother AND her older ones. Recently, she was in the car with her cousin C (who is actually 6 months older) and was reassuring and petting her: “ev-uh-thing is just fine. I’ve really missed you and I’m so glad you ah visiting me. Ev-uh-thing is fine.”

– We went to KJ’s new school for address verification. On the way there he was very curious about what “verification” meant so we talked about giving proof. When we went inside, they asked us for the “documents” and KJ proceeded to give them complete directions to our house from the school. Yep, that proves it.

– All of the kids are obsessed with Nashville. They love visiting Nonna and Papa J and especially love that we are always on “vacation” while we are there. This means they get to do things like eat places mommy doesn’t usually like to go, play Wii, stay up late, etc. So…KJ: “I’m going to celebrate my birthday in Nashville. Because Nonna likes Chuck E Cheese” and Cbug “I’m sorry you won’t get to see me when I grow up. I’m going to live in Nashville beside Nonna and Papa J.”

I’m excited to start keeping some of these snippets of memories.  And my friends will be glad I have an outlet other than telling them everything my kids say.  It is certainly hard to contain yourself when you believe your kids to be brilliant and hysterical.  What mom doesn’t?

ABL

I about had a heart-attack tonight.
And it came courtesy of the USPS.
Actually, it came courtesy of the local Children’s hospital. By way of the  mail.

Do you remember when I wrote about pictures with my “fake family?”  The pictures I wasn’t supposed to be in.  The ones I was certain might end up on a billboard somewhere.

It couldn’t be those pictures coming back to haunt me.  It couldn’t be possible. But yes. Yes, it was.

Cbug and I were IN THE MAILER.

And, as if I had seen a ghost, I about had a heart-attack.
And spent the rest of the evening thinking how crazy it was that 3 years ago, we took some random pictures, at a random park, and never heard anything else about them.
Until this year, the year that we actually did have this very same child in this very same hospital.  The year we did move to a new house.  The year we needed to be welcomed to the neighborhood- by ourselves in a brochure.

So, thanks for the “welcome home” heart-attack, Cook’s.  And, you are welcome.
ABL

As a side note, I tried to tell you at the time that my 15-month-old was very advanced.  He was already thinking words like “pediatrician” and making good choices about his future health care.  Smart boy.

Moving + a 3-month-old + his three older siblings (none of whom we really old enough to help)=
JULY WAS CRAZY.
But here are a few pictures, just to remember that it happened.

We moved in.  Each with our different contributions.  RRL turnedd the key that would let us into our new home on July 4th.  He carried me across the threshold, symbolizing a new beginning of “front porch moments“.  And then he went straight to work- HARD WORK, unloading the truck, storage unit and other places we had scattered our belongings.

While I just made more messes.  Well, at least that is what it felt like for a while, as I sorted through boxes of belongings, trying to find their new homes.  And as I tagged all the crazy-colored walls of our home with swatches of new ideas and clean starts.