Category Archives: my husband

L-O-V-E

Posted in joy found, laughter, my husband by

I have a wonderful husband. He is so loving and kind. On my last day of work, I found TWO dozen roses in the center of the dining room table. He wanted me to come home to something lovely and peaceful.

Just because he knew it was a rough day.

And just because he knew it was a rough week.

And just because he knew it was a rough year.

What a thoughtful man. I wouldn’t ever dream of poking fun of him or embarrassing him on here for all the world (a.k.a. the 20 of you that read this) to see. Nope. I wouldn’t do that. Instead, I’ll just show you the beautiful bouquet he left just for me, because he loves me. Isn’t he amazing? I love that man…

Just another Saturday…

Posted in laughter, my boy, my girl, my husband, parenting (aint for sissies) by

Please tell me I’m not the only mother who lets her children run around in just their undies and diaper on a Saturday while trashing the living room with every toy and kitchen utensil imaginable and waving at strangers from the window with the blinds wide open. Because the nice Jehovah’s Witness lady and little girl that came to the door today seemed a bit uncomfortable. I’m pretty sure she was reconsidering giving me the invitation to their event, but felt bad because we already knew they were already there witnessing the chaos of our home, so she gave it anyway. Her discomfort may have had less to do with the nearly naked children with their faces smashed to the window and more to do with the frazzled mother, still in her PJs with messy hair, standing on toys because no floor was in sight… at 11:30 in the “morning.”

Normally, I wouldn’t answer the door at 11:30 when I am still in my pajamas and a tornado has run through my house, but the naked children in the window waving at the lady and hollering, “MOM! SOMEONE IS AT THE DOOR!!!!!!” was a bit of a giveaway that I was home.

In any case, I think the nice lady realized (to her relief, I’m sure) that we probably wouldn’t attend the event they invited us to, because as she was making a (quick) escape, Jacob loudly informed her, “HEY! MY Past-oh Phil has an owie on his neck. Only it’s not on da outside, so we can’t put a band-age on it. Dat’s why I’m pwayin’ foh Jesus to put a band-age on da inside. We pwayin’ foh him.”

Translation and Summary: Our pastor had some odd symptoms last week that led to an MRI that showed he had a dissection in his carotid artery. He is taking medication and cutting out strenuous physical activity and should be fine in 3 months. But Jacob was highly concerned when he heard me reading Matt an email that was sent out to our church explaining what happened. He asked all sorts of questions and finally suggested we put a bandage on it. I told him we couldn’t, because it was on the inside of his neck. So he said he would pray for Jesus to put a bandage on the inside. And he has.  Every day. “Dank you, Jesus, foh Past-oh Phil’s owie to be all better. You gonna put a bandage on da inside. Dank you.”  And he tells lots of people about it, too. Our door visitor this morning wasn’t the first person he’s told, and she wasn’t the last person he told today. Jacob also informed Mrs. Burkhart at Doris Jean’s Donuts in Lynden. Mrs. Burkhart knew exactly what he was talking about and told Jacob she’s praying for him, too.

Later that sweet boy sat at the dinner table eating his apples. When he put his hand in the air and said, “Momma. I got dirt on my fingers,” I didn’t think much of it. He said it a few more times before it hit me… he hadn’t been outside playing in the dirt since last night, and he had a bath afterward. Panic set in as I saw the “dirt” covered finger heading towards his face. “STOP! DON’T. TOUCH. ANYTHING!!!!” He lifted his other hand. It, too, was covered.

Turns out his entire diaper was FULL of “dirt.”

After a thorough washing, we headed back to the table, where Jacob continued to refuse to eat his dinner but had no problem eating his boogers and telling us about it. Matt thought it would be humorous to point out the irony and said, “You can’t feel too good about your cooking when he’ll eat his boogers and ate a bunch of dirt last night, but he won’t touch dinner.”

Thank you, Husband. I look forward to eating the wonderful meals you’ll be preparing from now on.

In other news, I have decided to post a weekly self-pity story like my last post – even if I have to make one up. Because all you ladies that ignored me and commented anyway sure know how to make a girl feel good. Your kind words were good for my soul. Loves.

5 years, 8 months, 6 days

Posted in angel babies, grief and loss, my girl, my husband, twins by

So apparently I have some sort of weird attachment to hair.

First there was this episode where I bawled like a baby for the 1/2 inch of hair that was trimmed off Annalise’s long locks. But they were her baby locks. And this was her first cut. And so I saved a lock of curls in an envelope. But the envelope stayed in my purse, which is really just a catch-all for random toys, kids’ dirty socks, a spoon or two, gum wrappers, and papers of many kinds. Oh the papers!

And one day, in a fit of frustration, I dumped all papers – including one envelope containing a lock of hair – into the trash without really going through them much. And when I remembered the envelope, garbage day had passed.

And so I bawled like a baby. Again.

But now I think I’m finally over the hair loss. Annalise’s, at least. I’m still emotional about Matt’s. But he’s been losing his hair for quite some time, you say. Yes. Yes, he has. I’m not talking about that hair loss.

His beard. He shaved it off tonight (goatee still intact). I’m happy he did. It looks awesome. But I still bawled like a baby.

It’s just that he’s had that beard for 5 years, 8 months, and 6 days. I know, because I remember the last day he shaved, 5 years, 8 months, and 7 days ago. And I know that day, because it was the day we were going in for an ultrasound of our twin babies.

And then we were sent to the hospital. And then I was transported by ambulance to UW perinatal center. And they told us our girls wouldn’t survive because I was going to deliver them that day.

But I didn’t.

So instead, I was put on inclined bed-rest. And so Matt didn’t shave the next day – 5 years, 8 months, and 6 days ago – because we were at a hospital in Seattle unexpectedly, and he hadn’t packed.

And then he didn’t shave the day after that. Or the next day. Or the day after that. And his beard became an outward sign – a tangible measurement – of how long I was still pregnant since the day they told us our babies would be born that day.

And soon he had a full beard. And we were proving “them” wrong, because I was still pregnant with two healthy, kicking baby girls.

But then 2 weeks and 1 day later, my water broke. And the next day, Madison Faith was born and died. 5 years, 7 months, and 23 days ago.

And the day after Madison died, my water broke again. And the next day, Taylor Grace was born and died. 5 years, 7 months, and 21 days ago.

And today Matt shaved his beard. It was emotional for him, too, and we talked about it first. There have been many times where he thought about shaving but didn’t, because it was too hard for one or the other of us.

Today we agreed. It was okay to let it go. And I love how he looks. But I bawled like a baby, because it reminded me that I am no longer pregnant with our two baby girls. And I didn’t play with them today. Or read with them. Or dye Easter eggs with them. Or tuck them in bed and sing them a song. Or say prayers with them and kiss their cheeks.

But I did kiss my two other babies’ cheeks. And I can see Matt’s dimples again. I love them. And I can kiss his cheeks.

And now I wonder if Madison had his dimples. She had a wider smile than Taylor’s, and she had my chin. Taylor looked more like her daddy, except she had my dark hair. Madison’s hair was blonde. 5 years, 7 months, and 21 days ago, and I still remember. When you have only moments to make memories, I guess you burn them into your mind so deep that you won’t ever forget. Each detail. Each movement. The perfect little fingers and eyebrows and noses. Twin girls with very different mouths and different hair color, born on different days. One of them – Taylor – already nearly an inch taller than her “older” sister.

I haven’t forgotten.

5 years, 8 months, 6 days ago, our lives were changed.

And so I cried for the beard.

 

I will lift up my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from? My helps comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth. ~Psalm 121:1-2

I will give thanks to the LORD because of his righteousness and will sing praise to the name of the Lord Most High. ~Psalm 7:17

And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you. ~Psalm 9:10

But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them ever sing for joy… ~Psalm 5:11

A Little Extra Awesome

Posted in joy found, laughter, my boy, my girl, my husband, parenting (aint for sissies) by

People often say being a mom (or parent) is a thankless job. While I have some serious evidence from this past week to support this claim, I have to disagree. Don’t get me wrong. Parenting is hard, stressful, and draining work. And the thank-yous don’t usually flow freely. And people judge what you do or don’t do or tell you how they did/do it better. And as a mommy, you carry enough guilt to fill an airport’s worth of suitcases. And just when you have worked your hardest and sacrificed the most and are maybe feeling like you did something right for once, someone – likely your own child – will say or do something that makes you feel like you are a major failure or make you wonder why you bother working so hard and sacrificing so much. But even then, it is not a thankless job. Let me tell you why…

These past two weeks have been a challenge in the parenting department for me.

Scratch that. These past two weeks have been down right miserable in the parenting department. Lots of meltdowns. From me, I mean. LOTS. I think I was pretty close to a nervous break down on more than one occasion. And while I don’t think I did a horrific job, I’m certain I won’t be winning any “Mother of the Year” awards.

But here’s the thing. Even during these weeks, there were moments where the work was worth it, where my kids said or did something that made me feel appreciated, loved, and in their own way – thanked. Each time one of these things happened, I couldn’t help but think about how awesome my kids are and how blessed I am to have them.

I’m pretty sure most parents think their own kids are the coolest. I definitely think all kids are cool. They just are. Kids are awesome. And I know we’re biased, but Matt and I think ours are extra awesome. We often say to each other, “Why do you think God put so much extra awesome in Leesie?” Or, “Do you think other people realize all the extra awesome Jacob has?” (We have our theories as to why they have this extra awesome, and none of them have to do with us. We’re pretty certain it’s not genetics.)

My point is this – as a parent, when you see the extra awesome in your own kids, you can’t help but know it’s all worth it. That it isn’t a thankless job. That even if I don’t win any “Mother of the Year” awards, I could put my kids up against any other for “Awesomest Kids” awards and to me, mine would win every time.

Here are some recent “extra awesome” moments:

– Jacob is THE most thankful boy I know. He says thank you – or tank you – to everything. For example, on his first snowy day, he was so excited to get outside and play. But first came a diaper change and layers of clothes. He thanked me after each step. Cleaned bottom? “Tank you, Mama.” Medicine on butt? “Tank you for meh-sin, Mama.” Diaper? Onesie? Each and every layer of clothing – including 4 socks, 2 boots, and 2 gloves? “Tank you.” “Tanks, Mama.” “Tanks foh glub, Mama.” “Tanks foh udder glub. I luh you so much.” I was thanked for each thing. (See? Who says this is a thankless job? Not me!) But seriously. Such thankfulness for a one-year-old is definitely extra awesome.

– Annalise’s “Naked Dance.” Pure hilarious entertainment. And definitely extra awesome. Plus, her little brother now does it. Double extra awesomeness.

– Jacob’s singing. While whatever he sings is awesome enough, he changes the words, gets a sly smile on his face, then stops and says, “WHAT??” And laughs at his own joke. Extra awesome.

– Annalise’s ability to make up a song about anything, anytime, anywhere. Sometimes as a response to me. “Leesie, it’s bath time.” Singing response, “It’s tiiiimmmmeee for a baaaattthh. Oh you knoooowwwwwww it’s time to get cleeeaaaannn…”And on and on goes the awesomeness.

– Pretty much anytime Jacob talks, it’s full of extra awesome. His seemingly limitless vocabulary + his adorable facial expressions on two chubby cheeks = daily extra awesome.

– Leesie’s prayers. Her heart. Her desire to be mighty for God. “Mom, I want to be mighty for God. I really do. I just don’t hear Him talking to me. How am I ‘posed to know how to be mighty for Him when He isn’t tellin’ me any words?” I reminded her that we can read the Bible and learn what He wants us to do – (like obey mommy and daddy, right?) “Mom, that’s what He wants everyone to do. I want to know what He wants me to do that is mighty for Him.” How extra awesome is that?

– Jacob walking. When he’s in an extra awesomely good mood, he struts to a beat like he has music playing in his head.

– The hilarious comments both of them make. I post a lot of them on Facebook. But we’re probably laughing 10 times more than what I post. And each time I think, “There it is. The extra awesome.”

My dad always says, “I just can’t figure out how they got to be so cute!” (I’m a bit offended at his tone of surprise. Apparently he is certain it isn’t genetics, either. Thanks, Dad.) I just have to tell him, “Yep. They’re pretty extra awesome.”

Matt always says, “We got some pretty extra awesome kids here. That’s pretty amazing considering… I just don’t think we’d want to risk having a third, because, well, you know. The chances of three turning out so awesome aren’t very good.” (Again, I’d like to know what is wrong with us that it is so shocking we have awesome kids!)

I think he’s wrong. Because I think any kid we have would be extra awesome to us. I think every parent has the ability to see the extra awesome in their own children. Sometimes we just get too busy to look for it, too frustrated to see it, or we don’t feel appreciated in all the work we do. It’s easy to forget that while kids won’t always say, “Thank you, Mama, for doing my laundry while I threw a fit about picking up my own mess,” they have other ways of showing their love and appreciation. When they feel safe and loved, kids maybe just thank you by filling your day with all their extra awesome.

Tested

Posted in friends, grief and loss, holidays, joy found, my boy, my girl, my husband, parenting (aint for sissies), teaching, the relatives by

I was so gung-ho about a blog. I was excited, motivated, and had lots of things I wanted to write about. But then this week happened.

I will not go into details, but basically, this has been one of THE most challenging weeks I can remember: spiritually, emotionally, physically, financially, parentally, vehicularly, worldly, and teacherly. And I’m certain I’m missing some other -ly in there. I can really only think of 2 or 3  weeks in my adult life that were harder. I am drained. Completely emptied. I have not felt joyful.

Talk about testing my “Lift my eyes to the hills” challenge. Finding my joy? Ummm…. we won’t go there.

So I’ve decided I need to write. Because I need to focus on the moments that did bring joy – even if there weren’t many and they were short lived. And as I am spending a lot of my week trying to remember where my help comes from – because I’ve needed that help sooo much – I also need to be thankful to Him who is the giver of all good things. So here are this week’s “good things” in no particular order:

1. My husband. Wow. What a rock he has been. I am so grateful.

2. Jacob. Oh man. I could go on and on about the joy this kid brings. But one of my favorites recently is when he gets super protective and tells off someone who touches me. Daddy, the chiropractor, you name it. He scowls. And with his furrowed brow, he says, “No do dat!” or “You no kiss my Mama!” (That second one was to daddy, just to be clear.) I also love when he bursts into song then pauses and says, “I singing, Mama! I singing! Sing too!”

3.  An unexpected visit at some family/church family/friends’ house. We laughed, were entertained by Jacob’s singing, and enjoyed our time immensely. Up until the last 5 minutes when  “Parentally Hard Act I” took place. But such is life.

4. Mom home from Indonesia! Phew! 3 cheers for being able to talk on the phone with my mom when I want to! (Which is daily. Sorry, Matt.)

5.  Our pastor’s wife bringing Jacob up front during church to help her make an announcement about the nursery expanding. I’m pretty sure he knows when he’s doing it, but he completely melted my heart when he waved and said, “Hi, Mommy!” Because in all the whole congregation, I’m the one he’d want to go to.

6.  Celebrating my brother-in-law’s birthday. Because Tom is a cool guy and, well, chocolate cake is always good. But more importantly, it was nice to visit with Matt’s family. We haven’t done that in a while. And we got to see Matt’s mom’s new business. She is the new owner of Curves in Lynden. The remodel is astounding! It actually makes me want to work out. (If you haven’t seen it, you should like it on Facebook and check out the before/after pics!)

7. Valentine’s Day dinner. Not the whole day. Just the dinner. Well, the evening following the dinner was nice too. We just won’t discuss the earlier part of the day. It had something to do with “Parentally Hard Act II: And You Thought It Couldn’t Get Any Worse.” But the dinner… pink heart-shaped pancakes (Leesie’s fav) and sausage (Jacob’s fav – and pretty much the only protein he likes) made for a pleasant meal with the people I love. No arguing about how many more bites needed to be eaten. No asking for something else to eat. No “I no like it. It YUCKY.” from Jacob. Ah. Peace.

8. Dinner was followed by my favorite moment of the week – singing with my girl. We rehearsed in the car all week and surprised daddy with a duet – her idea. If singing with an adorable and joyful girl  – a song about God’s faithfulness and love – doesn’t cheer you up, then what will? Am I right?

9. In one of my toughest moments – this time at work – my partner and friend showed up, on her day off, to help me get through it. She stepped in to the teacher role so I could step out. She brought Valentines to share. And she prayed for the hurt.  How wonderful to be cared for and to have a work partner be so kind-hearted. And what a blessing that she loves Jesus, too.

10. My students’ faces as they excitedly gave me my Valentine’s gifts and cards: Lindor truffles in a heart box, a single red rose, a stuffed dog, a note pad “because teachers like note pads and that kind of stuff,” a few hand-made cards, and a smashed homemade pink-frosted cookie from an adorable boy with a huge smile. There were other things as well. And each face was full of joy in the giving.

11. The Ferndale Levy Passed!!! WAHOO! I will have a job next year. Probably.

12. Twice today I received a text from someone I love. Each person said some encouraging words and ended the text with “Peace be with you.”  How much I needed that peace. I am so grateful for the love of family, friends, and Jesus. It is enough.

Peace be with YOU.

Oh yes. Some of you have asked how to follow the blog. (If you choose to, I promise they will not be as heavy-hearted. Lots of laughter to come from the kids.) But if you want to, click “Follow”  on the right side of this page.