When I heard that baby scream the second the doctor pulled him out, I laughed and said, "Lord, help us!" I knew then that we were in for it, but I had no idea how true that actually was. Almost seven years after the fact, I'm not laughing when I earnestly plead, "Lord...help us..."

Life with Drew has never been easy or simple. He's always appeared to be a mystery to us; a seemingly impossible puzzle to figure out. When he was an infant, he screamed for hours on end before we realized he was in pain. Even after he was diagnosed, he was still tough to care for. We kept telling ourselves, "Things will be better after he's one." But one turned into two, two to three, three to four, and so on. Now he's six going on seven, giving us the same amount of difficulty, only in a bigger, stronger body.

Now, before I go on, I have to plead with you to understand and know I adore my sons -- both of them -- with much fervor. Both have their own strengths and weaknesses, likes and dislikes. God created them to each be amazing little people. Drew, in particular, can be a goofy, sweet, and cuddly little boy. But when he isn't those things, that's when there are issues. When Drew isn't Drew. When Drew becomes someone else entirely.

When Drew becomes Anti-Drew, it isn't just bad behavior or the occasional spat with his brother we have to worry about. He completely loses himself and all control. This sometimes causes issues at school, which can include anywhere from minor meltdowns and silent protests to kicking chairs and slamming doors. He's even been threatened to be sent home early, as a last resort. Once, his teachers had to follow through and I had to come collect him, mid-day. He becomes belligerent, spiteful, and physically violent at times. He has been known to not only scream at us, but also kick, scratch, pinch, punch, and slap his brother and father. We often have to physically restrain him to keep him from hurting himself or us.

For some reason, I am off limits. We share a lot of the same life challenges and struggles; the same anxieties and personality traits -- good and bad. We are kindred spirits and share a deep connection. I'm grateful for that and try to use that connection to reach him. It's hit and miss, as I'm still trying to figure myself out at the same time. While we have had a lot of minor victories, we also have defeats. Last night was one of them.

We just recently updated our Wii to a Wii U -- a HUGE treat in our house that we badly needed after a hard, depressing January. We have greatly enjoyed introducing the boys to some of the games Matt and I used to play often and we really love to play games as a family, in general. Rob had lost the privilege of playing last night, so Drew got to play with Daddy alone. We explained to him that he would be allowed to play a couple races on Mario Kart and then it was time for bed. He agreed.

We noticed he was starting to lose his composure as soon as said races were finished, so I calmly told him, "Drew, we agreed. It's time for bed." He started to cry and walk away, controller in his hand. "Drew, time to put the controller back. If you choose to fight, you'll lose game privileges for tomorrow."

Snap.

"I WILL play tomorrow," he says, squaring himself up with me. Matt and looked at each other, knowing the drill. We have found that immediately removing him from the situation and taking him to a bedroom to try and talk him down has proven successful in times past. But as soon as he saw us get up, he slammed the controller into the remote drawer and ran for his room. Matt followed him to his room and he started talking calmly to him. But Drew wasn't in the mood to talk. He wanted to rumble. He started screaming at Matt some more and ended up back in the living room, where he continued to disrespect his father. I admit, I lost my temper and took him by his ear to my bedroom at that point. I have no patience for disrespect. As soon as he sat down on our bed, he began kicking and punching Matt. Matt restrained him and we set in to wait him out, but he was in it for the long run. He continued to scream at us and kick and pinch Matt. At this point, Rob knocked on our door. We dismissed him, but he persisted. I held Drew so Matt could go to the door, discovering a highly distraught Rob on the other side. "I'm worried about Drew," he said, tears streaming down his face. He wasn't afraid of us hurting Drew, I assure you. He was afraid of Drew going too far and ending up hurting himself. Despite how Drew mistreats his brother, Rob deeply loves him.

Matt told Rob to head to bed and came back to assist me with Drew. We both laid on either side of him, holding his arms and legs as he struggled against us, yelling in our faces. Matt and just held on and told him how much we loved him. He was becoming overheated in his favorite footie pajamas, so I unzipped him and placed my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart frantically beating like a scared little bird in a cage. I begged him to take a deep breath and calm down, but he continued to fight, blankly staring at the ceiling.

Reality set in. One day he'll be bigger and stronger and we won't be able to restrain him or fend him off. Given the amount of blind rage he was expressing, we would have been dead at this point. The thought broke my heart and I lost my composure and began to cry. "You're making your mother cry," Matt softly whispered to him. Suddenly, I felt Drew's body relax. I looked up and saw two tear-filled eyes staring back at me. All I could think at that moment was, "He does care. Thank God, he cares. He doesn't want to be like this. There's hope."

We finally got our Drew back, if only for a moment, a day, or a week. The only comfort and hope we can take away from these fights is that eventually he'll come back to us, usually because he is too tired to keep fighting. I have never witnessed him give in because he felt bad for making one of us sad. Rob joined us in our bedroom again and we all hugged and loved on Drew at the same time. We had nothing but love and compassion for him at that moment.

I wish I knew how to help him better, but for now, we're striving to understand and love on this boy we all adore so dearly. God is revealing more about him to me every day, thus revealing more of myself. We are growing and healing together, and someday, hopefully, we'll both be happy, whole people. Until then, we struggle together. Please pray for us all.

Don't Stiff Your Small Business Friend

Would you walk into a clothing store and assume you get free clothes? Would you walk into a restaurant and assume you get free food?

No, you wouldn't, right? So, why is it acceptable to assume you get free items or services from artists, crafters, or small business owners? We have bills to pay and families to care for, too. But when we ask for pay, people treat us like we're just being greedy. Someone want to explain to me how that's fair? Is our time, effort, and ability not just as valuable? Do you not realize how insulting and infuriating that double standard is?

I work my butt off, often missing out on family time and/or sleep, to make money for my family. I don't have set hours or days off; I often work until I'm done or my body gives up on me. I'm not 100% perfect in what I do or make, but I put 110% into what I am doing or making, because I know what's at stake. I learn to make whatever I can and will exhaust every (legal) effort in order to make extra money. I feel my skills are worth more than just "it's good exposure", "I'll pass your name around", or "I'm your friend/family/acquaintance". I'm a fairly giving person; I try to give when and where I can and I love to help people. But sometimes I just can't afford to. In hard times like these, the meager funds that I'm able to contribute are sometimes the difference between whether the boys get new shoes or clothes, whether we can afford that extra bit of groceries, or have money in our savings for when Matt's checks just can't cover. How greedy of me to ask for pay for my services!

Let's get in the habit of NOT assuming and realizing that doing so is massively insulting. Please. If you can't crochet a blanket, paint a beautiful painting, sew a lovely quilt, carve a rubber stamp, or take a quality photograph, don't downplay, cheat, or judge those who can for you and are doing so to make a living. Just don't be that person. Pay us what we're due or don't ask!

Our Anniversary

This Valentine's Day, we celebrated 14 years of marriage. If you've been following along, that's a big deal.

We didn't have a lot of cash to work with this year, but I still wanted to do something special for this man, who so graciously puts up with me day in and day out. So, I decided to get crafty, which is kind of my thing. I die cut, assembled, and embossed 14 little envelopes, which had 14 little love notes (simple messages of what I loved about him) in them. I then blew up 14 red and pink balloons (hello, light-headed) and waited for him to finally go to bed (he can be quite stubborn to remove from the couch sometimes). As soon as he went to bed, I taped the envelopes to his monitor, which is his second stop in the morning when he's getting ready for work. I then took the four-garbage-bags-full of balloons out to his truck and proceeded to fill the cab with love and orneriness, all while receiving interesting glances from the lady across the street (why are you up at midnight anyways, HUH?!). Tickled with myself, I went to bed. A few hours later, he came in to place a kiss on my forehead and tell me goodbye, just like he does every morning. He loved everything, but later admitted that he was slightly irked while driving with the balloons. Hey, he asks for these things. Ask me how I know.

When he got home, he offered to do school-pickup duty (many, much brownie points) and gave me a lovely figurine of a couple in love (can't wait to get our living room chaos under control so we can place it). After our friend/sitter picked up our boys, we got ready to go to dinner at our favorite local coffee shop. Twin Beans (if you're not familiar with them and are local, you MUST try them out) put together a fantastic Valentine's Day Dinner for a good price and we were lucky enough to snag a reservation. Our meal started with drinks (we opted for coffee...it had been a long day...I later regretted it) and an appetizer of hummus and their in-house focaccia bread. Then came a lovely pear, strawberry, and spinach salad with a poppyseed dressing. For the entree, Matt had prime rib and I had salmon, both with garlic mashed potatoes. Dessert was affogatos (espresso + ice cream = UH-MAZING). By the time we were done, I was ready to be rolled out to the car. It was a lovely meal and we thoroughly enjoyed our time together, chatting and laughing. We don't often get to go out on our actual anniversary, since everyone else has love in mind and flood every restaurant in town. So, it's always a major treat when it does happen. That's the downside of getting married on Valentine's Day and I don't recommend it.

The boys had a fun-filled day, as well. They both filled out Valentines and made mailboxes (Rob's tank was made for him last year, via Daddy, but he was sick and didn't get to use it). They then partied down at school all day, by exchanging said Valentines and eating way too much sugar (I'm so glad Matt went to pick them up). When they went with our friend during our date, they had the opportunity to watch a play rehearsal and all the inter-workings of all that entails. When they got bored with that, they ran up and down the halls with their friends like crazy people. They were quite tired when we picked them up, and our dinner went longer than we anticipated, so I requested a hooky day today. I think they really appreciated the downtime and sleeping in. I love our school situation.

So, that was our day! Nothing super fancy, but we got time together, which is always a plus. I just love hanging out with this guy.

As a side note (since this is my space to rant when and how I feel like it), I am frustrated to find a lot of shame flying around on Facebook today. It really let the air out of my balloon, so to speak. Trying not to let it bother me, but it does. If you choose not to "do gifts" with your significant other, please don't shame those who choose to do so. I'm not good with expressing my feelings, especially to those people nearest and dearest to me, so I choose to give/make gifts. Matt knows this and sees the intent behind it; I'm not trying to prove something or boast, even if I choose to post about it on social media. I'm simply sharing our day and saying, "Hey, I adore this man and this is how I told him so."  Maybe I'm taking it too personal, but I found it upsetting, nonetheless. If you feel "secure" enough in your relationship to skip those things, good for you. But my relationship definitely isn't "insecure" because we choose to give/make gifts. I don't really like the implication, there.

Rant over. Happy Valentine's Day!

My Story Isn't Over

I'm not a poet. I used to write them for school assignments, but haven't written any in several years. (Don't judge.) Sometimes a line or two pops into my head and I save them on my phone and add to them when I think of another line or two. It's very organic and rough.

My Story Isn't Over

I have cried my eyes dry,
I have screamed my lungs breathless,
I have opened my veins crimson,
I have beaten my face bruised.

I have taken too many pills,
I have denied myself nourishment,
I have run away from love,
I have buried myself in pain.

I have seen the heights of happiness,
I have delved the depths of darkness,
I have seen the mountain peak,
I have laid in the endless valley.

I have begged for death,
I have fought to live,
I have drank the laughter,
I have drowned in sorrow.

I have slept with an angel at my side,
I have woken with a demon on my back,
I have fought the beast of day,
I have feared the shadows of night.

I have screamed at Him, "I'm done!"
I have heard Him reply, "I'm not,"
My story isn't over,
The Author declares it so.

No Matter What

"I will love you, no matter what."

"I will forgive you, no matter what."

"I will be there for you, no matter what."

No matter what. Three simple words that hold a lot a weight. It has kept our little family going for the past year. So much so, that it's become our official family motto.

This blog started out as a parenting blog and evolved over the years. Just like we as a family have changed, it was time for this blog to change -- in name and look, mainly. The content will remain mostly the same, but focused on our growth and journey as a family unit -- struggles, flaws, and all.

I will try to blog more...no matter what! =)

I Choose To Fight: Getting Real About My Depression

I wrote this post on Facebook in March of 2016, but was afraid to post it publicly on my blog. Now that my blog is up and running again, I've decided to add it so it didn't get "lost". I still read this post on the hard days, to remind myself to keep fighting. If you find yourself struggling with depression today, I pray it helps you find a reason to fight, too. It's not too late.

I wanted to share something deeply personal today, because at this point in my life, I feel the need to be real and transparent about my testimony. Some details have been left out because of sensitivity, but it is complete, nonetheless. How it will be taken, I'm not really sure. My hope is to explain a few things and/or maybe even encourage someone else, if not to aid in my own healing. I know it's long, but hopefully you'll stick with it and read it to the end.

I have struggled with depression my whole life. Thinking back, I vividly remember first contemplating suicide at a very young age -- as young as Rob is now, actually. I blamed myself for many of the atrocities that happened to me in my young life and I thoroughly believed that God hated me and I needed to be punished, by myself. As a teen, I began cutting -- not to end my life, necessarily, but more because I felt I deserved the pain. I also began hitting my face, closed and open fisted, until I was a bruised pulp on the floor. I starved myself because I hated my body and because the kids at school relentlessly tormented me about my weight. I was a pathological liar and I frequently stole from my family. By the time I had graduated high school, I had wronged every single person in my life and I was alone. My family had all but given up on me, my lies had finally cost me all of my friendships, and my romantic relationship at the time suddenly ended in heartbreak. It was a very low moment, as I didn't see any clear future for me. It was at this time that Matt came into my life and wanted to pursue a relationship. I had interest in him, but I admit when he asked me out, my initial thought was, "Sure. Why not? I don't have anything left to lose." He didn't instantly fix all my problems, but he was definitely a breath of fresh air.

Soon after, we married. Our first year, we were too poor to fight, but we made up for it during our second. I assumed by all the fighting that I had made a mistake; that he wasn't really "the one". Really, this was just me being selfish and prideful. I wanted a perfect relationship that suited MY needs. I attempted to seek out other relationships while still being married to him. Thankfully, no one was interested. I heard his heart crack that day I admitted it to him. Graciously, he forgave me somehow. I, however, did not.

Our third year, things were only slightly better and we were trying to have a baby, but to no avail. By the fourth year, it became a wedge between us, but we were too busy working to make ends meet to really notice. About half way through our fourth year, I told him I didn't love him anymore. I heard the crack go all the way that time. (You understand now why I say I don't deserve this man? Because I really don't.) A month or so later, we decided to go to church to try and mend things. I wasn't expecting much; I had been to church before and had been unimpressed. But this time was different. I heard the gospel for the very first time and it drove me to my knees. God saved me that very day and Matt soon after. About a month later, we found out we were pregnant with Robby.

Life seemed to be on the upswing. God had given me a new lease on life, my marriage was on the mend, and we had our baby, finally. All cured, or so I thought. The darkness has a funny way of seeping in without you realizing it. After Drew was born, I figured it was just "baby blues" and stress and it would right itself. But it never did. I proceeded to talk to a doctor, who only shoved heavy anti-depressants in my face and accused my husband of being "unloving" because he was against medication. I had tried medication before and it ended very, very poorly. He didn't want a "chemically happy" wife and I agreed with him.

I started to spiral out of control. I started publicly lashing out at people and hitting my face again, angry that I wasn't better. I wasn't a good wife, I wasn't a good mother, and I wasn't a good Christian. I assumed none of God's promises in the Bible were for me -- as if in some way I was different or some loop hole excluded me. I started contemplating suicide again. I had several episodes of ups and downs, each time being scooped up and nursed back to health by my husband. But soon it became too much for him and we sought counseling through our pastor. This was purely an act of desperation; I trust no one, even my own husband, fully. To let an "outsider" in was excruciating, but he was incredibly kind and loving about it. I will never forget that.

A busy schedule stopped me from going to our sessions and I figured I was "fixed enough" to at least function on a daily basis, but my demons soon took me down again. Matt had a grueling schedule at work and I rarely saw him. We were nothing but roommates and I was bitter for having to be a "single parent" all the time. It almost broke our marriage. I stopped going to church, due to the immense amount of anxiety it gave me. I felt as if I had to "put on a good face" and hide all the pain that was searing inside of me whenever I was there. If I didn't, people questioned me. "What's wrong? Didn't you say that last week?" was usually what I received. I didn't expect them to understand, but I began having panic attacks at even the thought of going. My anxiety began to spread to other areas of my life as well. I couldn't even go to the bank via drive thru without becoming a crying mess at the door.

My busy season with Busy Hands and the holidays kept me distracted through the end of last year, but the new year brought back the darkness with a vengeance. Sickness plagued our household for months and I became extremely depressed. Soon my demons crept in and I did little to fight them off. I was tired of fighting. I was tired of failing. I was tired of struggling just to get out of bed every day. I was tired of pretending I was okay. I gave up and gave in to the darkness. I only got out of bed on the days that I absolutely had to. I had stopped eating, stopped participating, and planned my suicide. I just didn't care anymore. I have never seen my husband cry as much as he has in the last month or so, begging me to live. It should have broken my heart, but I felt nothing. Struggling with the darkness for so many years had finally left me dead inside.

True to Matt fashion, he stubbornly, but lovingly pulled me up out of the pit and helped me back on to my feet. We began reading the Bible together in the evenings and started to be more transparent with each other . I felt God pushing me towards Matt in a way I had never experienced in our 14 years together. I have always been afraid that once I start trusting him too much, God will take him from me. Out of desperation, I have chosen to trust that He won't. I fully believe that we are not to trust men, but only God, completely, but I do feel God gave me Matt to keep me here and to heal me. He is my lifeline.

During this process of healing, Matt was inspired to support me and fight beside me in any manner he could. He became familiar with the semi-colon movement -- the wave of people tattooing semi-colons on their bodies in support of people who struggle with depression and/or suicide. The premise is that an author uses a semi-colon to merely pause for a moment, but keep going rather than stop. In the same way, a person who suffers from depression has moments where their life comes to a stop -- usually with thoughts of suicide -- but they choose to keep going instead. We both appreciated the sentiment, but this most recent episode spurred him into action. "Do you want to get a semi-colon tattoo? Both of us? You for encouragement and me in support of you?" he asked me out of the blue. I admit I was shocked. "Really?" I asked. He paused for a moment, thinking, "Yes. I want to do this. Together." We planned out our designs and visited a local tattoo shop for a quote and to book an appointment. Last night was that appointment. A dear friend watched the boys for us and we both got tattooed. Yes, it hurt. Poor Matt suffered greatly, but regretted nothing. "I did it for you," he says. I believe him.

We decided to incorporate the cross into our designs, because that is the one, seemly-obvious thing I tend to forget when my depression hits. God is always there. He loves me. His promises are for me. I need to turn to Him no matter how deep into it I am. Along with the semi-colon, its statement is simply this: God is the true Author of my story and that story isn't over yet. I know this may come across as extreme to some of you, but for me the reminder literally needed to be tattooed on my arm. It may save my life someday. It has breathed new life into me and Matt tells me there's a light in my eyes that he's never seen before. I know that I will struggle with this until God calls me home and I have only won the battle and not the war, but now I have my war paint on and I am ready to fight.

By the grace of God and the love of my family, I choose to fight for my life instead of end it.

First Day of School

First and third grade! Wow!

Buddies

These two are inseparable!

Stella & Indy

Stella, adopted on October 31st, 2015.


Indy, adopted on July 4th, 2016.


Cat buddies!

Adult Prom

This night. Oh, this amazing night. We had SO. MUCH. FUN! We danced and laughed until we just couldn't anymore. I will remember this night for a very long time.

First Day of School

*blink*

And like that, my sweet babies are both in school. Second grade and kindergarten.

Holy cow.

Our morning went smoothly, for the most part. Don't they look so grown up and handsome? I hope they have a wonderful first day, but they are in their teachers' capable hands, so I'm certain they will. I just have to get used to all this...quiet.

Dear Mother

Dear Mother,

Yesterday marked the second anniversary of your passing. I suppose I should still be in grieving, but I find myself still feeling rather little. Your last words to me still burn in my brain: "You were the biggest mistake I've ever made." I have reflected on them quite a bit over the past two years. Your mission to hurt me was once a success, but now those words have only strengthened me.

How could I be your "biggest mistake"? You didn't even know me. You left long ago. You chose to miss out on countless birthdays and Christmases, band and choir concerts, spring and summer breaks. You weren't there for first loves or first heartbreaks, cram sessions, book reports, or science projects. You weren't there to see me graduate high school -- even my dad was there for that one. You missed my engagement, my wedding, and the birth of both of my sons. You missed all of their firsts, as well; they don't know you at all. Tell me again how I ruined your life?

Today, I don't grieve you. I pity you. While you may have considered me your mistake, God doesn't make mistakes -- I was meant to be. Meant to be disowned by a mother, but adopted by the Father, who sent His Son to redeem me and grow me into who I am today. And He has always been there, every single step of the way, especially when you weren't. Thank you for making your "biggest mistake", because it has turned out to be my greatest blessing.

Sincerely,
Your Daughter

California Trip Highlights

Ah, vacation. It's a glorious thing. We took a whirlwind roadtrip to California, driving from one end to the other. Our stops included the Northern Coast, the Redwoods, San Francisco, Oceanside Beach, Nana's house, and LEGOLAND. Eight days, four states, and over 2,300 miles driven. It was nuts, but we had a blast! 

Our Top 5 Favorite Children's Books

I know I haven't posted in quite awhile. Life, again, has been crazy. You know how it is. But during this time, we have started picking up a fun assortment of books for the boys and I wanted to share a list of our favorites.

I'm not associated with Amazon.com in any way, but I shop there frequently and added links to each book for convenience.

1. The Book With No Pictures by B.J. Novak

This book is our all-time favorite! As the title suggests, this book contains no pictures, but instead forces the reader (usually an unsuspecting grown-up) to say some pretty silly words. The boys love it because Daddy and I have to make total goofballs of ourselves because "that's how books work...those are the rules". I highly recommend this one for some great read-out-loud/bonding/laughing time.

2. The Day the Crayons Quit by Drew Daywalt

I love the creativity of this book. A little boy just wants to color, but instead he finds a stack of letters from his beloved crayons. Many of them are voicing their complaints, but one is perfectly content with his job. It's really fun to read aloud and the illustrations are adorable.

3. The Scrambled States of America by Laurie Keller

We just recently bought this one, but it was an immediate hit. It all starts with a disgruntled Kansas, who just wants a change of scenery. He and his neighbors decide to throw a party to get to know the other states. By the end of the night, the states decide they want to switch places, which they quickly find to be a huge mistake. This book is so funny and a great way to learn US geography. And, evidently, Idaho is the "politest state", which I find amusing and not very accurate. =)

4. I Need My Monster by Amanda Noll

This is one of Drew's favorites. A little boy has a monster under his bed, but they're on a first name basis. All is well and fine until his monster decides to take a day off. Now the boy can't sleep. So, the monster agency sends replacements, but none of them are HIS monster. I love this book because it addresses a common childhood fear of something under the bed and puts a funny spin on it. Now we joke about the monster under the boys' bed and imagine what he might look like. The illustrations are extraordinary.

5. The Gruffalo by Julia Donaldson

We watched the short movie on Netflix before we bought the book, but the story is basically the same. To avoid being eaten by various woodland predators, a little mouse makes up a fake, fearsome creature that he claims is afraid of him...until that creature turns out to be real. This is a fun rhyming book with an unexpected ending. Another Drew favorite.

Twink Comes Home

Twink Comes Home

Based on a True Story by Jennifer Marshall

Once upon a time, there was a little girl travelling with her grandparents. They were whizzing down the highway in their motorhome, just outside of Missoula, Montana, when the little girl decided to play with her Rainbow Brite Twink Doll near a window. The little girl did not realize that the window was open and before she knew it -- whoosh! Twink was gone! The little girl cried frantically, "Grandma, Grandpa --- Twink fell out the window!", but it was too late. There was no where to pull off and retrieve the toy.

When they returned to their home in Idaho, the little girl begged her grandfather, who drove a truck, to search for the little doll whenever he passed through the area. Each and every time the grandfather returned from a trip near the spot where Twink took his fateful flight, the little girl would run and meet him at the door, asking with great hope in her bright eyes if he had finally found her tiny friend. With sadness, the grandfather had to break the hard news to her that he had searched, but had not yet found Twink. The little girl slumped and turned to walk away, once again missing her beloved doll.

Many years rolled by and soon the doll was forgotten, but remembered from time to time and shared as a charming tale at family get togethers. The little girl was no longer little and no longer needed her doll, but she still remembered how sad she felt when she lost poor Twink and wondered what had become of him. Soon, she had children of her own and recounted the story to them. Her two boys sat and listened intently to the story of the wayward Twink, also wondering what had happened to him. "Perhaps we'll never know," their mother told them.

One sunny afternoon, exactly one week before Christmas, a strange, small white package arrived at the girl's house. Upon examination, the girl found that the package was from her grandmother in Arizona. "Probably Christmas presents for the boys," she muttered to herself. She tossed it aside and shuffled back to the kitchen to fill her mug with fresh coffee. But curiosity suddenly struck her and soon she was hastily tearing away the wrapping, eager to find the contents of the mystery box. A funny thought crossed her mind, as she opened the re-purposed Christmas lights box to find an item simply wrapped in a paper towel along with a note. "I really hope it's not a dead road runner or jack rabbit," she chuckled to herself. Her grandmother was well known for her quirky sense of humor and it would not of surprised her to find such a "gift" hidden inside. She set the oddly-shaped item aside and opened the note. Neatly written on a piece of yellow note paper was a letter, which read:

"Dear Jennifer,

A lot has happened to me since that fateful day I blew out of the motorhome window just out of Missoula, MT.

I do not blame you for the accident -- I know you were just having fun tippy-toeing me along the window sill and you didn't realize it was open -- a little tooooo close and out I went --- POOF!

I remember seeing your startled face as I drifted out. I heard your plaintive voice as you cried, "Grandma, Grandpa --- Twink fell out the window!" My little life flashed before me as I floated into space. I watched from the tangle of brush beside the road as the motorhome disappeared into the distance. Oh woe is me! And where is me?!

I lay there for quite a while -- through rain, snow, exhaust fumes, and the roar of traffic. Every once in a while your grandpa would go by in his big red feed truck. He would slow down and look for me. I would feebly wave my little arms, but to no avail --- he never saw me.

Then, one day a car stopped nearby, they had a flat tire. As the man was changing the tire, a little girl stood watching. Her father told her to stand back farther from the highway. As she moved back something caught her eye. It was me -- tangled in a bush. She gently picked me up and dusted me off. Oh, it was so good to be held again! I went to live with her for a long time. When she outgrew me, she put me on eBay. Your grandma found me and now I have found you again.

I am SO happy!

Love, Twink"

Tears streamed down the girl's face as she finished the letter. Her thumb gently caressed Twink's smiling face and she gave him a little squeeze. "Welcome home, old friend. I've missed you all these years. No more windows for you."

Twink now lives happily on the family's living room shelf, enjoyed and loved on by the girl's own children, far away from any windows or highways. He was finally home.

The End

Currently in the Shop

Busy, Busy Hands

Chunky Heart Pillow

Etsy Listing: https://www.etsy.com/listing/203601671/chunky-heart-shaped-plushie-pillow?ref=shop_home_active_5

Pattern: my own design

Claudia Scarf

Etsy Listing: https://www.etsy.com/listing/203592260/crochet-lacy-claudia-scarf-ivory?ref=shop_home_active_3

Pattern: http://littlesliceoflife.wordpress.com/free-patterns/claudia-scarf/

Autumn Sunflowers and Apples Wreath

Etsy Listing: https://www.etsy.com/listing/203604867/14-crochet-autumn-sunflowers-and-apples?ref=shop_home_active_1

Pattern: various patterns to make up the decor

Lacy Round Ripple Baby Afghan with Matching Button Beanie

Etsy Listing: https://www.etsy.com/listing/203592826/crochet-lacy-round-ripple-baby-girl?ref=shop_home_active_2

Pattern: http://stitcheryprojects.com/2013/03/05/lacy-round-ripple-blanket/ (hat was my design)

Lacy Autumn Squares Afghan (very proud of this one!)

Etsy Listing: https://www.etsy.com/listing/203602941/lacy-autumn-squares-crochet-throw-beige?ref=shop_home_active_4

Pattern: Lacy Cross and Daisy Chain blocks from 200 Crochet Blocks; Border #93 from Around the Corner Crochet Borders

I used these books to make my Lacy Autumn Squares Throw. They are worth their weight in gold! If you're a fellow crocheter, I highly recommend you put these in your arsenal.

H.E.A.R.T.

It's been a tough summer.

A busy, tough summer.

Matt and I have had to face some pretty hard situations and it's rubbed our marriage almost threadbare a few times. Yet, here we are, by the grace of God.

I know I rarely write anything personal here, anymore. Life is crazy like that. I generally only have time or energy just to post photos of the boys, a quick entry about our last adventure, or a plug for my businesses. But this weighed on my heart and I thought it was a nice reminder to other wives who may be struggling like I am.

It seems like when life gets nuts...when the storms come rolling in...when you're nothing more than roommates because you never have a moment together, everything you loved about your husband or know about what God had planned for your marriage goes out the window. You forget exactly what your marriage means and what your role in it really is. Statements are made without thought and feelings are hurt. Bitterness and resentment begin to creep in. Anyone with me?

I know this feeling all too well.

When life squeezes and stresses me, I drift farther and farther from my beloved, rather than rely on him to pray for me and guide me, and it gets to the point where I forget the basics of what we are, together. It's so easy to forget. Too easy. And it's miserable.

I was pondering this last night, as I was laying there in bed trying to sleep. It sounds silly, but I make myself "lists" of basic reminders to review when I'm really in a funk. Generally, it helps right my perspective and snaps me out of whatever ditch I've dug myself into. So, here is my "wife reminder" of the things I think are important for a godly marriage. It may differ from what you deem important, but, if anything, this is a reminder for ME. I call it "I Want to Give Him my H.E.A.R.T."

H: I want to give him my HONESTY. Do not hide things from him. Do not lie to him. Do not bottle up what's bothering you. God created him to be your helpmate, just as you are his (Genesis 2:18). Let him help and guide you through whatever is troubling you, through the Word or through prayer. Even just voicing your worries and woes to a loving, listening ear makes all the difference. He is my best friend, after all.

E: I want to give him my EAGERNESS. We should be eager to show our husbands love and affection, because loveless marriages are dead marriages. Without sex or any sort of emotional bond, bitterness and temptation can quickly seep in, driving the wedge between you even more (1 Corinthians 7:5).

A: I want to give him my ACKNOWLEDGEMENT. Marriage is meant to be an example of the relationship of Christ and His church (Ephesians 5:22-32). We must acknowledge our husbands as the head of our households, if he is indeed in Christ, and allow him to guide us spiritually by submitting to him. We don't like that idea, generally, in this feminist-laden era. The Bible talks about women being the "weaker vessel" (1 Peter 3:7), in that we are more emotionally-driven than our male counterparts and have a greater tendency to be irrational and illogical -- especially during particular times of the month. (If you have found a way to master that, kudos, but I'll be the first to admit that I can be one hot mess sometimes and I'm glad that my husband doesn't have to deal with hormones and tears when trying to make a clear-thinking decision.) This does not mean that our ideas or concerns should not be heard or taken into account. Marriage (and parenthood) should always be a team effort, but I acknowledge my husband as the head by being respectful of his decisions for our household and not try to undermine him at every chance.

R: I want to give him my RESPECT. As I said before, he deserves my respect for his role as head and for me not to bad-mouth him to my friends or family. No eye-rolling, name-calling, or tearing down during discussions -- especially heated ones. Is it giving God glory by being rude and uncivil towards him? Is it showing him Christ-like love? Not at all. You're not a teenager. PMS isn't an excuse. Act and talk like an adult. And if you did happen to fly off the handle at him, repent. ASAP. (Ephesians 4:32)

T: I want to give him my TRUST. This one is especially hard for me. I've been burned by people a lot in my life, so full trust in anyone is almost impossible for me. God is working on me. We must trust our husbands wholeheartedly. You have to keep in mind that he is a sinner, like you, and will disappoint you. You will sin against him and disappoint him, too. I was once told that marriage was two sinners trying to live selfishly together. This is true. But if you don't trust your husband to care for your well-being, love you, and guide you in Christ, you're sunk. What is any relationship without trust? Broken. But, ultimately, our faith and trust must in the Lord, first and foremost (Jeremiah 17:7), causing it, in turn, to flow into our marriages.

Now, this is assuming you're both saved and both on the same page, theologically. If not, you need to go here. And, as I said, this isn't meant for everyone. Everyone's situations are different, but these speak to my marriage, which is imperfect and flawed, but also wonderful, love-filled, and totally worth it. I can't imagine life without my best friend and helpmate. That's why I strive so hard to make it work. Yours is worth it, too.

"[Jesus] answered, 'Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, 'Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh'? So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.'"
-Matthew 19:4-6-

Teacher Appreciation Gifts

Made these cute little ornaments for my Rob's teachers as (suck up) gifts. I just love 'em!

Bird Pattern (chart): http://aandehaakgeslagen.blogspot.nl/2013/01/fluitend-het-nieuwe-jaar-in.html

Apple Pattern: http://lallylou-lou.blogspot.co.uk/2010/10/apples-from-teacher.html?m=1

First Day of School

First day of school! Drew will be doing preschool with me (but I bet he blows through to kindergarten) and Rob is starting 1st grade with Ms. Lark. They were both sooooo excited this morning!