Easter 2015!

I LOVE EASTER! 

We dyed eggs Wednesday, and poor thing was pretty bummed out that he wasn't old enough. Sorry bub, better luck next year.

Fun times people. Fun. Times.

Saturday was our annual Easter Brunch at the country club. It's like a kids paradise. TONS of crafts and candy out, dancing with the bunnies, a buffet full of kids food (i.e. fried and small), an entire ice cream cooler rolled out with no limitations, and a darn stinking entire 9th hole completely overtaken by Easter eggs! 

Just need to ask...which photo would look better on our wall? 

ONE?

Or TWO?

#nailedit

Managed to grab one photo as soon as I saw the face paint come out. I was pretty sure in that moment that any hope of a family shot would be out the window.

Any way, my kids were so very unimpressed with this year's bunny crop...

But bring out the face paint and it's a party!

Watch this unfold...

Death grip...

Warming up...

HECK TO THE NO HE DIDN'T! 

Mommy to the rescue.

E was finally on the mend from his near bunny abduction, and all was well.

Saturday night my husband and I went to church and left the little ones with my mother-in-law. I began to grow increasingly concerned for her as the picture texts started rolling in. She had no idea how much candy they had had hours prior...

#sorrynana

Easter Sunday!

We woke up and made our annual resurrection rolls, followed by some lunch prep. 

My mom made the most adorable veggie tray, and my sister-in-law is one crafty goddess. #wellplayedladies

My girlie made her now famous Mississippi Mud Pie, and I bawled my eyes out as I made my Momo's carrot cake cupcakes. She was so very missed that day. 

Things felt "real" when my grandpa arrived without my Momo, but took a turn toward funny when baby E wouldn't let him operate his walker alone. We all joked that he was just showing off his skills now that he has graduated the walker himself. 

Gotta love babies! 

OK, so did you notice that the babies matched? Funny thing - my sister-in-law and I bought all six kids the EXACT same outfits for Easter without consulting one another, and did not notice until about 20 minutes into dinner. We are, apparently, a one-stop Gymboree shop.

Love my peeps.

It's tradition to take a terrible family photo on Easter. Terrible. Every year. Only Easter. We just own it, now! 

I really hesitate to do this, but I feel the need to prove just how serious this problem is...

Ain't none of these ever gonna see the light of day again. 

Moving on (thank God!)

Egg hunt! We leave one egg empty with a note saying "He is risen" (get it? empty egg!) so that rather than having a "golden egg", the kids don't know who "won" until after the hunt is over. Winner gets a chocolate cross.

  

He was pretty mad (he can't read) that he didn't have candy in an egg. Then he realized what was up.

   

My aunt and I handed each lady a gift we had spent hours on the week before - homemade cookbooks of my Momo's original dessert recipes. A true piece of her heart that we each get to keep with us. And while we were doing that, the kids scored yet again with - you guessed it - more gifts! This time from Gramma and Grampa, All the parents breathed a sigh of relief when said gifts did not include sugar, dyes, or things that may poke eyes out if used in a fight.

All jokes aside, this was a tough year of loss for our family, and God knew exactly what he was doing when He made our Easter invite list. My best friend's Grandfather also passed away two days prior, and her grandmother and mother were left in town with nowhere to come, just as they were, with their grief. Another man in our small group just lost everything. EVERYTHING he owned, and his job, on top of that. My husband and I were honored to host all of the hurting hearts (including our own) in our home this year. In all sorrow, there is hope, for He has overcome the powers of this world. And what better time to celebrate that hope than Easter? Just as we are. Imperfect, hurting, filled with joy, or filled with sorrow - we all have one thing in common. We have hope, because He lives!

Growing Pains

Our little family is in the process of a whole lot of positive changes right now. New house next week, new baby in the fall, and on top of that, a new (much better) schedule for my husband just took effect. Yet a time so exciting in my eyes is turning into an unnerving time in the eyes of my four year old. When our second child was born, our first was only two, so in a sense, this whole "new baby" thing is a new concept to her. I have moved many times in my life, and I see the 1200 sq ft upgrade as a great, never look back, type of opportunity for us. She sees it as a loss, as she is letting go of the only home she's ever known. To top it off, Daddy being home in the evenings 7 days a week, while positive for me, is a major schedule change for her. New bedtime routine, new attention distribution, and new structure of discipline.

And in the midst of all of these happenings, I have, until now, not recognized the biggest change thus far in her life -

she is growing up.

Silly as it sounds, my girl is growing up and the realization is hitting me hard. No, she's not into makeup yet, and no, she isn't learning to drive, but for the first time, I realize that the "baby" stage is behind us. We (accidentally) found out we were having a boy last week, story for another day. Rather than pitching a fit over her disappointment, she tried gracefully as possible to hide her tears from me. She is attempting to handle spats with her little brother, rather than insta-whining the moment he drives his truck over her perfectly arranged Barbie city. She wants to pick out her own clothes "for real", do her own hair, and no longer allows me into a public bathroom with her (only a mother can understand how this feels!). She is more self aware, easily embarrassed, and processes every word I say, even when I think she's not listening.

And the hardest change so far - she is withdrawing. Or more like, retreating. She wants to play alone, for hours. Her brother is not invited to her tea parties anymore, she wants space from Mommy, and she focuses on what she wants to focus on, no matter how much I would like her to just sit down and color with me.

Now, I understand that this is just the first of many changes we will go through with her. She will eventually be an adolescent, teenager, and adult. I also understand that those years are still years off. But for the first time truly, I have begun to think about my role in her life, looking toward the future. I am no longer here to just keep her safe and entertained, my purpose as her mother is to speak life into her, prepare her, discipline her as Christ leads me, and to be intentional with the time I am given. These are sensitive years, she is crushed so easily, and yet for the first time in her life, I have to treat her differently than her brother, simply due to age and therefore, expectation.

I probably sound like I'm half crazy, or maybe a little over emotional, but I'm sure any of you who have children older than toddlers understand where I am coming from. It is a sad transition, yet a wonderful opportunity, to have this responsibility and time as her mother. A heritage from the Lord. He trusts me with His baby girl, and I pray that He continues to equip me for the next stage in her sweet life.

How do you "Train" a Child?

My mommy triumphs have little to do with an A+ worksheet, phenomenal piano performance (hence my daughter's backwards curtsy afterwards), or whether or not my child read by her 4th birthday. My favorite moments, the ones where I feel hand picked by God, usually remain private memories, shared by one child and myself. Thinking back to my own childhood, the comfort of my mother is a tangible memory, literally felt across my body when brought to mind. It is irreplaceable, and while I may share a mother, or share family memories, it is the uniqueness of each of my middle of the night illnesses, slips into bed after a nightmare, and secret snacks after a bad day that create in my mind an image of who my mother is. 

Recently I went off of the grid for a few months. Partly by choice, part unintentional. I shut down social media, unplugged our cable, and accidentally broke my cell phone. The heart change that I experienced was astounding - shifting focus away from what could be presented unto what was real, concrete, and truly mattered to the lives of my precious children. 

Childhood only happens to each of us once - what will your children remember? 

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and even when he is old, he will not depart from it"

-Proverbs 22:6 ASV

Reality for me used to look a little more like this:

"Present a clear and precise message of what type of mother you are, and once believed by all, focus on convincing your children"

Or better yet:

"Sign up to help with as many events/meals/ministries as possible, so that even if you aren't the best teacher, comforter, or train set builder, your children will remember you as a great person"

The Lord is revealing to me exactly what my role is as mother. He doesn't require "x" amount of hours spent planning meals, He doesn't expect me to magically develop a sense of train track building expertise, and He has no plans (that I am aware of) to give me the desire to iron our Sunday church wear. 

My son has been suffering nightmares for the last few weeks, something about a "scawy monkey" in our kitchen. Five nights in a row he calls for me, we head downstairs, see that there is in fact no monkey, and drink some chocolate milk and pray before we head back to bed. Sometimes my bed, sometimes his. Last night we went out of town for him to see a doctor about an upcoming surgery he is having, and the trip completely wore him out. He slept all night through, and I missed our little routine. Tonight, as midnight approached and I was getting ready for bed, I heard the "mama, mama, need hug" coming from upstairs. You don't have to ask me twice when you're that cute! I grabbed him and carried my groggy boy downstairs, poured him a glass of chocolate milk, and realized that we were standing in the kitchen in the dark, and he was not concerned. In fact, there was no mention of said monkey for quite some time. 

My little man just wanted me, or chocolate milk, or both. Probably the chocolate milk. But he squeezed in some snuggles and kisses while he could, and I realized that despite the laundry pile we were sitting next to, or the dinner dishes that were still on the table, my boy saw me as the one God made for him. 

So back to Proverbs, what is it that we want to get across when we "train" our children? I hope that I have many more nights like these. That my children remember my grace, love, forgiveness, and dedication to them. I hope they remember a patient smile when I walk in to change bed sheets in the middle of the night, or think of the times that I cried with them when they were heartbroken. I want them to hear my voice singing to them when they're losing their temper as teenagers, or to see my confidence in them when they're doubting themselves. I want to be a reflection of the Lord in their lives, and I want them to know how much He loves them because I want them to know what love really feels like. 

When I think down to the knitty-gritty of motherhood, I realize that what truly matters is sometimes only seen by those whom it truly matters to.

Friendship Bread

If I ever question whether or not to continue homeschooling, I will refer myself back to this photo. The smiles, the friendship, and the joy. That about sums it up. Thank you, Lord, for making this the desire of my heart.