Dancing

This has been a summer full of busy days.  We have had little trips here and there, lots of fun with visitors, and last week we started the summer camp marathon.  Silas and Jewel have both been attending swim lessons all summer, just once a week on Wednesday afternoons.  But, Silas had three really fun camps that he was signed up for all in a row, and I had really nothing extra for Jewel.  I didn't mind at first, we never did summer camps for Silas when he was three, but it's hard to be left out when you are part of the taxi crew and every day you get to watch your big brother get ready for adventure after adventure and you just don't.  So, we heard about a 3-4 year old dance class at a dance studio that is very close to the house.  I didn't say anything about it to Jewel, but I started looking into it.  Remarkably, it was very inexpensive and the scheduling would fit perfect into our other camp commitments.  The place was keeping summertime hours and I could not get ahold of anyone at the desk.  So, two Mondays ago, I took my greatest mommy risk of all times.

I got Jewel up and told her about the class.  We got all ready and raced out the door to stop at Target on the way and get a leotard and tights and dance shoes.  My plan was to show up to the first class and REALLY PRAY they had room for her.  It was a serious gamble as we were there, totally decked out, ready for dancing, and not sure if they had an extra spot.  By God's grace, they did.  In fact, it was by God's incredible blessing and I am sure by his good plans for her that they did.  

Jewel lives her life with pure abandonment.  She does not reserve or hold back.  She allows herself to be overcome by what is in front of her.  She totally throws herself into the moment.  Truthfully, I live vicariously through this vibrant life.  

When we found out that she could attend, she jumped up and down, hugged all of us as tight as she could, and without skipping a beat she got in line with the other girls to go into their room and meet their teacher.  They spent the first 10 minutes sitting together on the floor, getting to know one another and getting comfortable.  Then they started their stretching and trying some basic moves.  Then...the teacher turned on the music.  The girls followed her around the room, mimicking her graceful movements.  As they turned toward us, the smile on Jewel's face brought tears to my eyes.  Oh, she was SO there!!  She was completely unaware of the audience, totally unphased by the other people in the class, she was just dancing her little heart out.  

Throughout the class they did many different activities and practiced a lot of different ways, but the smile on Jewel's face never left.  I stood at the huge windows only mildly aware of Silas and Trey playing at my feet, the other mothers chatting and watching their girls, and tears just continued to fall from my eyes.  Yes, she is brave, she is self confident, she is strong...but she is glowing from the inside out in there.  Her heart is so full.  

About a month ago she and I were in the bathroom.  Whenever we end up in there together, she exclaims with gladness, "Mom, it's just the girls in here!  We are having special time!"  She had just finished going to the bathroom and I was fixing my hair.  She was looking out the bathroom window over the backyard and the property and the view beyond that.  After she had been standing there a while I said, "Jewel, isn't it beautiful out there?  I am so thankful for the view God gave us from this house.  I love our green grass and the big trees and the bright sun and blue sky, it is very beautiful."  She turned around and put her arms out and started spinning slowly.  She danced.  As she twirled and spun and tiptoed she said, "It is beautiful, Mom.  It is so beautiful that it makes me just want to worship!  I just want to dance and worship.  It's like I am just dancing for Jesus to say thank you!"

Every Monday morning when we go to dance class I remember her sharing her heart during our bathroom special time.  She is right.  It's like she just transports to the throne room of her King, and she is dancing and worshiping before the Lord.  It makes me say thank you again and again...for the divine arrangement of this worship service.  It's a fantastic way to start our week.  

Spokane Family

 We miss being close to our parents and our siblings.  We often wonder what we should do about that...where could we go to get closer to them?  But, with brothers and sisters spread from Pennsylvania to Georgia to California, Arizona and Alaska...it's hard to pick a spot.  And no matter where we went, we couldn't be close to them all.  We have a sadness about missing out on cousin time, grandparent time, and special time with aunts and uncles.  There is no solution, but sometimes God gives us a very sweet salve for this tender hurt.

In Spokane, Washington, there is often an occasion for my mom's extended family to meet together.  This May, my cousin Rainee got married.  A wedding is a REALLY good reason to get together and celebrate.  It always turns into a mini family reunion (mini because not everyone can make it, and there are a lot of us, but many do come).  It's a time to get caught up, to see all the cute kids, to laugh and dance and play.  But for us, it is family time.

This year we stayed with my cousin, Callie.  She went to Lee University with me for two of my four years, met her husband there, and then moved her growing family back to Spokane.  It is a treat to have time with her.  It is a hoot to have our husbands together because they are like reunited brothers looking for trouble.  It is a delight to have our kids together!  She has four, plus our three, that makes 7 ages 7 and under.  They have so much fun together!!  This year since they are getting a little older, it was fun to see real relationships building.

Jewel and Macie became a fast pair.  She is 5, meaning she qualifies to be followed and adored by Jewel.  And she deserves it...she is sweet, gentle, caring, and so thoughtful.  Jewel felt very special to have time with Macie for the weekend.  They shared a room, they swapped clothes, they escaped into pretending, they became friends.

 The boys bonded over wii racing.  Big boys and little boys.  Silas and Colby were independent, tough, cool, and hanging with the dads a lot.  There was a level of maturation that they both really enjoyed in one another...true negotiations and deals made over turns, toys, sleeping arrangements and responsibilities.  All on their own.  They felt set apart from the little kids, and they really were.  Silas is still asking me to go back, "we don't get enough time with Colby, Mom."  And I totally agree.

Callie and I stayed up WAY too late every night, laughed good and hard, and as always we were totally connected to each other's hearts through our shared love of God.  I am so thankful for her, for our relationship, and for being able to pick up where we left off no matter what and get into the heart of the matter.

I was also thankful for great big hugs.  The one thing my family has always done best is to hug like they mean it.  My Pake, when he sees his grandkids and great grandkids, is overcome with God's goodness.  He gets tears in his eyes and grabs you in tight.  While he is giving a good, snug squeeze, there is a little shake of his body.  It's a sob of joy.  It is Holy Spirit filled love.  It is the best place to be on earth.  My Beppe has battled arthritis for many years.  Her body and hands show it.  But it never prevents her from grabbing my arms, pulling me in to her, pressing her hand against the side of my face and giving me a firm kiss on the cheek.  She always smells the same, and is always wearing a silk shirt. She is beautiful with time and holiness.  She overflows God's unconditional love.  There is never time between us, it's always as though she is as familiar with me as if we had coffee together every day.

My aunts and uncles are becoming this way as they make the transition into being grandparents themselves.  They love on us as though we are their own kids.  Uncle Cal takes Trey for a walk while I am dancing with Jewel during the reception.  Aunt Shin pulls me aside to tell me how she is encouraging Daniel to talk with Jordan about his career.  Uncle Palmer teases and pokes, and affirms.  Jordan is in conversation with Aunt Billie, then Uncle Dan...then I see him rough housing with one of my cousins who hasn't been around much lately.  He is loving on him, embracing him where he is, affirming him for being there...all in a very tough and macho way of course.

From our far corner of the northwest, sometimes we feel isolated and lonely.  Sometimes we are thankful to be here so that we appreciate every opportunity for an interaction with our family.  This wedding weekend we were thankful to be able to share time with the blessing of extended family.

New Identity

Some of you may remember Jordan as the punk high school kid who I started dating...the bad boy type.    From the gated hills of Ventana Canyon, he wore Polo in the gangster style, rebellious..with jeans sagged to reveal his boxers.  I certainly did fall in love with that wild child.

After getting married, serious jobs at golf courses and with the PGA straightened him up a bit.  Pressed khakis and collard shirts were his every day attire.  We attended dinner parties and company functions with raised pinkies and wine glasses.  

Something happened when he shaved his head for training camp.  It was the beginning of another transformation.  He was leaving behind his dignified ways.  Moving to the farm house was like coming home for the first time for Jordan.  

What has happened from there is remarkable.  T-shirts have replaced his collars and buttons, Carhartt over Polo, jeans chosen over khaki pants, work boots instead of soft spike golf shoes.  The words "going to the range" have a totally different meaning now as ear plugs and ammo boxes have replaced divot repair tools and golf tees.  

But, even in his golfing days, his music preference had not changed from those high school days.  Even driving home from the pro shop, there was loud music shaking his windows.  

But, the final straw in the transformation happened when he brought this home...

Yes, he is truly a "country boy with a farmer's tan".  Many of you may not know that lyrical line, in fact I didn't either just a short time ago.  But the last straw of the change came when Jordan announced he had been listening to COUNTRY MUSIC!

I about fell out of my seat when he told me.  We had both loudly and proudly renounced the country twang from the early days of knowing each other.  The other shifts in identity were more gradual, actually expected as they were parallel with career changes.  But this TOTALLY caught me off guard. I have no where to file this information in my brain.  It is an identity crisis!

It is now common scene at our house pull up on a Saturday morning and see Jordan cruising around the property on his John Deere with a kid on his lap (either half dressed, in their jammies, or as pictured below...decked out in camo...but always with wild hair and dirty faces!) and country music on his ipod.

This I can handle.  In fact, I can even appreciate it.  I can't hear the music out there, and the kids love riding on the mower as much as Jordan loves driving it.  Sometimes after dinner, Jordan will take Trey our for a little drive just to get his fussy evening cries out of the kitchen for me.  I can't complain about that (I also can't get a picture of it since seeing me tends to ruin the serene mood on the tractor)!

BUT, sometimes after dinner, if the weather is bad and we are feeling a little cooped up, THIS happens, which I have to confess I just can't get into.  Thankfully, the kids' dance moves are entertaining...but I when I watch these videos I really want to mute the sound.

(They were too long to just insert into the blog, so I put them on youtube.  Trust me...it is worth clicking on it and watching.)






I would also like to say, I have NEVER taught Jewel a single dance move.  That is straight from her own inspiration.  Also, I would like to say that I HAVE tried to manipulate Jewel's wardrobe.  If you are wondering if she is wearing a swim cover with leggings and slippers...you would be right.


The truth is, even if his taste has changed.  Even if his style has changed.  Even if my kids know country lyrics.  This pretty much covers how we feel about him...no matter the exterior appearance of his identity, we know him on the inside.

And we just can't get enough.

We love him so much, we'd even listen to country music to keep him around.

As a side note, to prove that we truly are becoming a little farm, these are our goats.  We actually got them as an inheritance...someone who needed to move and then another move and then they just couldn't get back to get the goats...and we became the rightful owners.  We have actually really enjoyed them, and they do keep our field under control.  But, we have kind of a make shift pen for them, and not a ton of shelter (as we were thinking it was short term), so we are now debating if our house is the best home for them.  Either way, we took another giant step toward the country life when we brought Cinnamon and Sugar home.  It would have been an even bigger step had I taken the Jordan Bury Challenge to figure out how to get them producing milk and add goat milking to my daily chores.  I'm just not quite ready for that.

 There are a lot of things to love about cold weather.  Specifically how adorable the kids look all bundled up.  Jewel spent so much of our outside play time with a baby zipped up inside her jacket...you just can't do that in the summer time.  In the back ground of this picture you can see a blurry little Trey.  Let me just say that no one year old rocks the puffy vest and beanie like he does.  We snuggle by the fire, we have not chocolate and warm toast.  Good, good things.

BUT, we have had several weeks of the most amazing spring weather, that it has us chomping at the bit for summer time!  The layers are starting to peel off, and the sun has been warm and frequent.

 As soon as we see the sun shinning, we race outside for as long as we can.  We work in the garden, we go for walks and bike rides, we just move life out of the house.

This is the garden we planted all from seed and loved and prayed over during the cold nights and short days.

 This is transplanting those seeds out to the raised beds.  We have three raised beds of this size (probably about 4ft by 10ft) that are filled with lettuces of many kinds, sugar snap peas, various onions, tomatoes, cabbage, carrots, sweet peppers, and for fun we are trying edamame.  Beyond this, Jordan tilled a huge portion of the side property for pumpkins, tons of squash, corn, and more tomatoes and cabbage (we learned in our first go around that those puppies take up a LOT of space!).

Everywhere we go, no matter what house we live in, one of our first priorities is the sand box.  This is the third one that Jordan has built. Each time they get a little bigger.  In Hillsboro we had 2ft by 3ft.  In Beaverton we had 4ft by 8ft.  At the farm house...8ft by 8ft by 3ft. 

If we move again we'll just have to go straight to the beach.

 Here is a little perspective with my very tall six year old.

Three yards of sand...shoveled and scooped.

COUNTLESS hours of play time for all three kids.  One sunny morning Silas and Jewel went out and got very involved in a building project.  They were planning and collaberating and scheming.  I just let them.  I fed Trey lunch, put him down for his nap, worked on a few chores.  Finally, four hours later, I went to talk with them.  Neither one of them had gotten out of the sandbox or called for me once.  I offered to bring them food and water.  They were thankful for it, but not needy for it.  Although that day was a serious marathon, it is not uncommon for them to spend major chunks of time out there in building bliss.  

 Trey loves the freedom of pushing his trucks anywhere he pleases.  I have to keep a VERY close eye on this kid.  He has no fear of being alone, no fear of adventuring out, no fear of trying new things.  We've had many occasions of God's divine intervention...protecting his sweet little life.  Like Jewel, he is the silent type.  Stealthily he moves about, plotting his plans.  Whenever I discover him, with a giant smile he greets me and waves.  Trouble.

 We have had gorgeous flowers in our yard and on our walks (thank you to our unsuspecting neighbors who have annonymously donated to my flower vases via the kids' good intentions)

 I love this picture because it is total Oregon kids to be blinded by any amount of sunlight.

 And, THIS is our picnic table.  We will be eating out here for the majority of the summer with our family and anyone else who will join us for sharing in the bounty of the garden.  I found this beauty on craigs list.  It seats 12 people.  Yes, 12.  It is HUGE.  I am planning to refinish it as it needs a good sanding and staining...but for $50...solid wood seating for us and all our pals.

I know we have many rainy days ahead of us (today is particularly nasty actually), but this house is a blessing inside and out, and we cannot wait to share it in all seasons!

One of our favorite activities this winter and spring has been Awanas.  Silas attended Awanas last fall and enjoyed it, but after Christmas we transferred him to a church that is closer to our new house.  We fell in love.  Silas made fast friends with a little boy in his class, his parents are the leaders of Silas' group.  He totally took off in his verse memorization, blowing me away with multiple verses memorized each week.  Every week we looked forward to Wednesday nights.  I would drop Silas off and take either Jewel or Trey or both of them out for a special date (which, with kids that age, finishing grocery shopping with an ice cream cone constitutes as a date, so sometimes we ran errands).  

This is a video of Silas and Jewel practicing memorizing the books of the New Testament.  Check out Jewel's hair action :)  

We also enjoyed the activities associated with Awanas.  We participated in the soap box derby with the car that Jordan and Silas made together.  Silas received an award for car design, basically meaning we had to coolest looking car there (also meaning it was not the fastest...but as Jordan will tell you, it was a learning year).  Getting a trophy for this accomplishment may top Silas' list of the best days of his life.  He was SO elated to get this trophy that I was getting teary as he marched up there to receive it and shake the hand of the man who facilitated the event.  Priceless!!

We also started attending a bi-monthly play time with many of the kids from his class.  It is in the gym at the church where we attend Awanas and the kids absolutely love it.  Getting connected with this group of people also got me involved with a Bible Study at that church for just the last 6 weeks.  It was amazing and I am so thankful for all of the positive bonus things that have come from being in this program.  I guess this is the beginning of my social life being dependent on the kids' activities.  Thankfully, Silas has good taste in buddies :)

At the end of the year we went to his awards night.  He was honored for memorizing his ENTIRE book this year.  We watched as he marched up on stage, sang his Awanas song, received his ribbon, and gave us the much awaited "parent wave" and "thumbs up" from the stage.  We are incredibly proud of this growing boy!

I sat at the kitchen table with Shilo on New Year's Day.  We had only been in our new house for a night and a half, and suitcases and boxes and cousins were all around.  With coffee in hand, we planned our day together.  I had several projects and wanted her opinion and help on as I was organizing and arranging the house.

As we talked, Jewel came to me and climbed on my lap.  I kept chatting away, rubbing her arm gently. For a short moment she was okay just sitting there, but it didn't last.  

"Mom, I need to snuggle you." 

"Jewel, you are snuggling me babe.  I'm right here.  You are sitting with me."

She fidgeted and wiggled and grumphed.  

"Mom, please I hold you?"

"Jewel, I am holding you.  You are on my lap."  I pulled her closer to me and hugged her up against me.  I smiled at Shilo.  I made a comment about her need for physical affection and squeezed her a little tighter.

Then she sat up a little and looked at me, she thought for a short second.

"Mom, no.  I need to snuggle you right here."  She stretched my t-shirt towards my shoulders and put her little cheek against the skin on my chest.  Almost immediately I felt her little body relax against me. She wrapped her arms around me and gave a content and peaceful sigh.  She stayed there the whole time we talked.

Jewel was recognizing in herself the need to be grounded, centered, brought back to safety.  There had been a lot of chaos over the last several weeks.  Before being ready to start life in another new place, she needed something.  

As an adult I find it harder to recognize that need.  Well, I guess I recognize it, but I feel silly identifying it and addressing it.  I am a secure and mature person, I can handle a fair amount of chaos and transition and adjusting.  I know how to cope with tough things.  

We utilized a lot of coping strategies in the last five months in order to sort through the transitions and adjusting and chaos.  We opted out of most of our commitments.  We greatly reduced our activity calendar from what we are used to.  We engaged in projects around the house and invested in time with one another.  Those are all coping strategies, and healthy ones (for a time), but that was not what brought me through the transition.  

I feel like I have spent the last four months on God's lap.  I chose not to attend an organized Bible Study, but have been working through the second half of Genesis on my own through the book we started at Jenn's church last fall.  Like Jewel, I came to God with a recognized need.  

"God, I need you"

"Sommer, I am right here."

"God, I am worried about defining myself"

"Sommer, I am your truth, I am right here."

"God, what about homeschooling?"

"Sommer, I know your heart.  I am right here.  I am holding you."

"God, what about my arthritis?"

"Sommer, I created your body, I am the author of your personal story, trust me.  I am right here."

"God, I am unsettled.  What is next for us?  How long are we staying?  How much do I invest?"

"Sommer, snuggle me."

Then, a few weeks ago at church, our Pastor shared this verse:

But I have calmed and quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother;like a weaned child I am content.

Psalm 131:2

In each of the unsettling things on my heart, God spoke to me.  He did not give me "answers" in the fashion that I thought I was looking for.  He gave me more truth about himself.  I found that as time went on, I wasn't coming as often because of my uncertainty or my fear, but just coming to have time with him.  It started to change from wiggling around on his lap and fidgeting, to looking forward to the time to just be together.  

I think what was so precious to me about Jewel coming to me in the way that she did, was that she is weaned.  She is not an infant looking for nutrients just to survive.  She is beyond that, more mature than that.  But she recognized in her heart that being close to me and touching me was her source of contentment.  She did not ask me questions or seek clarification on our circumstances or even want me to give her assurances to make her feel better.  She just knew she needed me.  I am glad she didn't ask, because I would not have been able to explain to her in terms that she could grasp or understand, exactly what was going on.  I cannot give her answers as to how long we will be here or what our time will be like.  But, I can always offer her my skin to skin time...she gets that.  

Oh yes, because what is the context of this verse?

My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me.

Psalm 131:1

Like Jewel, neither can I  understand or comprehend or figure out all of my circumstances and situations.  God cannot unveil his will for those things in a way that makes sense to me.  But, he can always offer me more of himself. 

Over the weekend, we had the most incredible northwest weather.  The sun was bright and warm, the sky was big and blue, the clouds were sparse and only there for decoration, adding depth and texture to the sky with no threat of rain or gloom.  It was truly magnificent.  Later this week we will return to our spring rain.  Yesterday was a transitional day.  There were breaks of gorgeous sun, moments of dark clouds, a sudden cold breeze, and then the warming rays on your back.  It was fitting for my mood.

We've had an eventful and fun last two weeks.  We spent three days at the beach with friends, we had Jordan's mom here for almost 5 days, and Shilo and her 4 kids plus Aunt Kate stayed for a night on their way down to California.  We had birthday parties, play dates and an awesome Easter.  Sunday night I was restless and had strange dreams and couldn't wake up in the morning.  Somehow it seems my body was preparing for a day of grief.

He would have been 7 yesterday.  I spent the morning making trips to pick up sand for our sandbox and wondered what it would have been like to make this huge sandbox his birthday present.  I sent Jordan a text.  It is hard for me to have him gone to work all day while my mind and heart whip around from one emotion to the next.  He told me that Miles probably has a sandbox the size of Texas in heaven.  I smiled.  Then cried.  Hard.

Sometimes when I think about him I think of just the overview of the day.  The magnitude of all that happened makes it hard to isolate events, and the emotion comes mostly at the overwhelming amount of things that happened in 24 hours.  It started so unexpectedly and then was over in such a final and painful way so, so quickly.

But yesterday I kept getting specific images in my heart.  I felt his tiny little body against my chest and I could remember the detail of his delicate fingers draped over mine.  I could hear myself singing to him.

You gave me heart

and you gave me a smile

you gave me Jesus

and you made me your child

and I just thank you Father for making me, me

I remember making it to the children's hospital.  He arrived before us and was in the NICU attached to all the machines.  The day was still early and the room was bright with sun.  There was so much hope for a recovery.  I so clearly remember sitting next to his bed for hours that day.  My extended family came and went.  Uncle Cliff hugged me, he stretched his hands out over Miles' bed and prayed a silent prayer.  I am confident that the prayer was as tangible and comforting to Miles and the hug was for me. Aunt Kate sang.  Oh, the sound of her voice in my ears.  

Jesus loves the little ones like Miles

Jesus loves the little ones like Miles

Little ones like Miles, little ones like Miles...

My mom never left his bed.  She brought her book and her notebook, when we were told to go and rest she sat with him.  Just to be there for us.  In my picture memory I am walking back into the NICU and she is just relaxing and waiting.  When she sees me she turns and smiles, glasses on her nose, book in her hand.  There was this much needed, quiet confidence and faith about her.  I vividly remember thinking that I would not be able to survive when she left.

I remember the light of the day fading away from the room.  I remember the talk with the doctor that he wasn't responding the the medicine.  I remember things all of a sudden feeling so artificial.  The florecent lights, the sound of the breathing machine, the temporary divider they put around us as though we were alone with our son.  

I remember them taking off the tubes and needles and walking through the hospital with him and taking him to the room where we held him until he was 'officially' with Jesus.  I feel mad about it.  It was not a sweet goodbye.  The doctor kept coming in and checking his heart beat.  We just cried and waited.  Then we went home.  Truly.  It was dark and cold and we just got in the car and drove home.  Jordan and I smoked a cigarette.  Or maybe several.  I remember walking through the parking lot to the car, Jordan just in front of me, hospital bag over his shoulder.  Done.  

I also remember the people.  The doctor who delivered him.  She sat on my bed and held my hand.  "Your water broke, so we have to deliver the baby.  He is right on the dividing line of when we even attempt to save them.  We will do all we can.  This is going to be a hard day."  

The nurse who took care of me after he was born.  She told me the story of her miracle baby and walked around collecting cash for us to take to the children's hospital with us.  "You won't want to leave," she told me as she tucked the money into my bag, "you will need this for vending machines and coffees."  Then she prayed for me.  

The nurse in the NICU had her own Miles at home.  She cared for mine with a sober awareness and connectedness.  

Jordan's mom cooked, and made sandwiches, and cleaned.  She prayed...I know she prayed.  

My dad.  He came after it was all over.  He did the hard work.  He told the family what was going on. Where do we call for a funeral?  Where could we have a service?  What has to be done between the hospital and the burial grounds?  He put together a slide show of the few pictures we had.  He led the service.  In fact I don't even know all the things he did for us in those first few days.  I am sure it is far more than I was aware of.  

Beyond the day of his life, there were after moments that I thought of yesterday with great thankfulness.  The following August we were in Spokane for a reunion.  My dad and Jordan couldn't make it because of work and my cousin, Tasha, who had lived with us for several years while we were both in high school, was there while her husband was serving overseas.  Each family takes a turn to share what is going on and have the rest of the extended family pray for them.  My mom spoke for us three girls.  We could barely talk through our shakes of crying sobs.  My cousin, Jasmine, is married to a very strong and Godly man.  He came up to us, put a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder, and called out for God's comfort.  

That year on Mother's day I got a lot of calls.  A lot of people remembered me and prayed me through what could have been a horribly difficult day.  Their prayers changed that.  On Father's Day, my cousin Jean remembered Jordan.  She sent an email of heart felt prayers.  

Throughout the years I have had a handful of people who make his birthday real to me.  

This year there was a new kind of sweetness.  Jordan and I shared the day in a way we have not ever been able to before.  He was sad in a noticeable, shareable, connected with me, kind of way.  So we shared openly and deeply and with reality.  We both have to struggle through truths that we know and we want to believe, but that are so hard to understand.  

Today I feel emotionally hung over.  I spent yesterday doing what any Dutch woman in my position would do and I shoveled 2 yards of sand into our new sand box.  I didn't touch any of my normal stuff, dishes, laundry, floors...gross.  We had left overs and mac n cheese for dinner.  This morning I woke up to the reprocussions of that.  Dishes, laundry, and dirty floors.  But, I got out of bed before the kids and had my quiet time.  I made oatmeal for breakfast.  I let the kids watch a show and got the dishes and floors done.  I will keep working through the laundry.  I cried while I wrote this.  I am choosing sitting in the sun watching the kids race around on their powerwheels instead of cooking, so dinner will be another mish mash of fridge remnants.  

Tonight my mom and dad come.  I am not prepared with groceries and a meal plan.  But, my heart is prepared for conversation and hearing truth and being loved on...as only a mom and dad can do.