pushing through the dirt…

For so long I have felt unworthy of sharing in a broad sense what God was showing me through relationship with Him.  Mainly because I knew that as soon as I shared what He is doing, I would inevitably mess up and come across as a hypocrite or insincere.  God is taking the time to show me every day that it’s just part of “doing life”.  Whats crazy is that I allow my fear of being human to get in the way of sharing the story of Christ’s mercy and love in my life. 

Today I received some news that really threw me for a loop.  In my mind, I just knew that this “thing” – which I had been praying for and desiring in my heart, was God’s will for my life.  This thing was not a selfish thing – in fact, it was motivated by things I think God would approve of.  I had set in my heart that this thing was going to fix all my worries.  All day I have been riding this roller coaster of deep lows (despair and sadness) coupled with high peaks (trusting that God stillhas a specific plan for our family).  God is having to constantly remind me lately that my existence on this earth is not about me – it’s all about Him and what His plan for my life is.  Am I pursuing Him with everything in me?  Am I progressing my relationship with Him – or am I in a constant holding pattern, trying to juggle my love for him with filling my life with what I feel is important?

I am reading a book right now called Crazy Love that is just plain tough to digest.  Tonight, I read the chapters titled “Profile of the Lukewarm” and “Serving Leftovers to a Holy God”…. yeah, heavy hitters.   God is trying to teach me that until I can really turn my hopes and desires over to His perfect plan for my life, I can never live the life He has destined for me from the beginning of time.  Lord, please give me the strength to resist being lukewarm – and to never give you just whatever is left over.   Help me to hold myself to the standard that You have set in my life, instead of comparing myself to others and having a false sense of righteousness.   I have been focusing on a certain verse of a song that God is using to teach me lately:

I am full of earth
You are heaven’s worth
I am stained with dirt, prone to depravity
You are everything that is bright and clean
The antonym of me
You are divinity
But a certain sign of grace is this
From a broken earth flowers come up
Pushing through the dirt

I am so thankful that we serve a God that never grows weak or weary – otherwise, he would be exhausted having to deal with me.  He actually loves me, despite me.  

-Wayland

This Week In Pictures

What a week.  My brain is currently putty, so instead of writing, I will post pics.   Before the unveiling, let me say a few things.  First off, Happy Birthday Mom.  We love you.  Next, please pray for our sweet niece, Reece (I love to say that – it rhymes) as she is having her tonsils and adenoids removed tomorrow.  Seeing anyone go to surgery is hard, but it is even harder when it is a little one.  Jesus, hold her tight and keep her safe.  While you’re praying – please lift up our family as well.  I know God is doing some really big things in our hearts right now, and I think we all feel a little “under attack.”  Nathanael had strep throat last week, Luke woke up with a fever this morning, and the rest seem to be riding an emotional roller coaster.  One last thing, Wayland has been asked to give the message at youth this weekend.  Please pray that the God’s Holy Spirit would fill Wayland with the right words and that young, searching hearts would be touched.  We are so blessed to have such great family and friends.  We love y’all.

Luke playing dress up - brokeback style

Embracing Being the Baby

Birthday Breakfast in Bed

Birthday Party Fun

 

Look who joined the birthday obstacle course

All the way to the top

 

Little Sis gives it her best

Once Upon a Time…

Today my sweet baby girl turns six.  I know every mother does this, but really…how is it possible?  Every single detail of the day she was born is crystal clear in my mind.  It was a very long day – looking back now, I think it’s simply because she wasn’t ready.  All three boys came SO very easily.  A few hours of labor, a couple of pushes – and there they were.  It was enough to make you want to have a dozen.  My Anna Elizabeth, on the other hand, gave us a run for our money that Thursday six years ago. 

(Warning – You are about to read a mother’s recounting of her daughter’s birth.  If you are a mother, you know how precious this is.  You hold it and ponder it over and over every time another birthday rolls around.  But more than likely – you are the only one that wants to relive every detail.  If you don’t read another word, I understand.  I just feel the need to record it.  I’m sure one day my little girl will want a complete account – not so sure about those boys! )

It was the day the U.S. invaded Iraq.  I remember the Fox News Alert flashing across the screen in the hospital room.  Probably not the most calming and reassuring thing to have on in the background, but oh well.  I had been to the doctor on Tuesday and was dilated to a ONE!  Given my previous birth histories, I didn’t think I’d make it through the day.  My poor doctor had endured about eight months of pure torment from me.  I had miscarried our third child one year before, and I don’t think I went more than two weeks without seeing him the entirety of my prenatal care.  Looking back, I know I was in constant fear that I would miscarry again, and I didn’t know if I could handle it.  (My OB was in our Sunday School class at church and I remember doing a study on worry when I was pregnant.  You had to place yourself on a line from 1 – 10 depending on how much you worried.  I put myself at about a 7.  He quickly moved me past the 10 mark and said he thought I should reevaluate).  When he saw that I was starting to dilate that Tuesday, he decided to go ahead and induce me on Thursday if I had not gone into labor before.  I was still almost two weeks from my due date, but I think he felt it was time for me to see my baby so I could stop worrying so much.  (I had been on Ambien for about a month but still could only sleep a couple of hours at night).  Thursday rolled around and Wayland and I headed for the hospital bright and early.  I figured I might deliver my baby girl before Nathanael even made it to school that morning.  I was a bit ambitious to say the least.  They started pitocin, and before long I was having some really good contractions.  In fact, they were at the top of the charts.  We noticed Anna’s heartbeat would go down with the really strong ones, so they dialed it back a little to let us both rest.  I wanted so badly to hold off from getting an epidural, but when they checked me at around 2:30pm and I was only at a FOUR, I relented.  They had to do it twice (I have “tight spaces” in my back – that also makes me more prone to spinal headaches, but that’s a whole other story).  Things started to speed up after that.  I remember nurses coming in more often, looking at the readings closer, hints of concern in their voices.  My doctor had told me he would be back after 5:00 pm, so when he showed up earlier, I was a little concerned.  He checked me and when he didn’t offer that reassuring look, I began to panic a little.  He asked a nurse if they had an operating room available.  I’m not sure what she said, but he said to “be ready.”  I remember my mom was going to film the birth and they told her to turn the camera off.  He said Anna Elizabeth was presenting as a “brow baby” (which was foreign to me) and that they were going to have to turn her.  Not only was she sunny side up, but her head was tilted back at an angle that her forehead, or eyebrows were leading the way.  I won’t lie, I was scared to death when he pulled out those forceps.  All those investigative news stories kept running through my head and I had to stop myself from imagining all the horrific things that could happen to my baby.  After they turned her I remember it being extremely tense in the room.  She wasn’t responding well, and the doctor said we didn’t have time to get to the OR – we needed to get her out NOW.  I think I remember pushing, but more than that, I remember Wayland and a nurse literally pushing her out of me.  I had bruises all around my ribcage and stomach from their determination to get her out so quickly.  She was already starting to crown when they told my mom she could turn the camera back on.  Unfortunately, it didn’t last long.  Right as I gave that final push, I remember a nurse telling my mom to turn the camera off NOW.  Then the doctor looked at Wayland and said, “Dad, I need you to push that button right there.”  I didn’t know it then, but it was the Code Blue button.  I kept asking over and over, “How is she? How is she?”  Everyone was looking at her (I couldn’t see her) but no one said a word.  It felt like an eternity before I heard that weak little cry.  The emergency team got there right about the same time, and all I could do was cry.  I think I let out a whole year of emotion right there in that delivery room.  The doctor finally answered my question – he said, “She’s ugly, but she’s here!”  I was completely offended by that statement, but I knew what he was talking about.  Her poor little head was a little “squished,” and was already beginning to bruise from the forceps.  She had little cuts on both of her perfectly precious little ears, and a nice sized mark above her left eye.  Evidently, when the doc broke my water, he scratched her with the little poker thing - normally that would have been on the back of a baby’s head, but with Anna turned like she was, it was fortunate he didn’t poke her in the eye. 

When they finally placed her in my arms, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.  Even with all the nicks and bruises, she was beautiful.  Tears continued to stream and I had a hard time speaking.  She took my breath away. 

 It didn’t take long before our family began to fill the room, and with them came both tears and laughter.  I may have laughed harder than I had in months when my very serious first-born (5 years old at the time) took a look at baby sister lying in the bassinet.  In all the chaos of Anna Elizabeth’s birth, the doctor had cut the umbilical cord and left it pretty long when he clamped it.  Nathanael was looking at her talking about how sweet and pretty she was, and then all of a sudden he said (he had the cutest little raspy voice at the time), “Hey!  Wait just a minute!  What’s that thing on my sister’s penis?”  It didn’t take him long to figure out how it was logistically wrong, but poor thing - he’ll never live that one down. 

I’m so thankful for my sweet girl.  She is fire and lightning, and cream and sugar at the same time.  She’s simply amazing, and I feel so blessed to call her my daughter. 

Happy Birthday, Baby!  Hope you enjoy breakfast in bed (two blueberry muffins, bacon and oj on a tray of course) and being awakened by the voices of your brothers and parents singing “Happy Birthday to You!”  (This was her request starting about a month ago - and she didn’t forget to remind me last night before I tucked her into bed.  She told me if she got crumbs in her bed she wanted her sheets changed as well…)

It’s Cheaper to Stay Ugly, Fashion Faux Pas, and Questionable Parenting

We moved here four years ago.  The first thing I wanted to change in this house was our kitchen.  I could use many words to describe it, but I’ll go for nice and just say it was u-g-l-y, UGLY!  We have been very slow going in the makeover of this kitchen.  We started by tearing down some ridiculous faux beams that housed flourescent lights (that lit up the ceiling, of course) and put in some recessed lighting.  That was a good fix.  Unfortunately, we neglected to paint the ceiling for the next three years, leaving it “rustic.”  We also removed some cabinets over the stove that had caused me to cook at a 45 degree angle so I could look out into the dining room as the kids did their homework and give help when needed.  Another good fix, yet the edges never had the trim replaced so they also looked, “rustic.”  We (and by we, I really mean a hired professional, or Wayland every time I say it) then decided to remove some absolutely hideous wallpaper and paint the walls.  Another great fix.  Still needed some trim work -  you get the idea.   We then took a sabbatical from kitchen work and spent money on things like replacing disintegrating plumbing and shotty gutters.  Still, all the while, glaring at us in the middle of all these great (yet completely finished) kitchen projects, loomed the biggest and most dreaded of all them all – Refinishing the Cabinets!!!  They were awful.  Awful. I mean really bad.  In January, Wayland started sanding, drilling, puttying, priming, painting and replacing the hardware on all the cabinets.  (Hallelujah!)  Considering the fact that we are a pretty busy family, with lots of new changes going on, it has taken a while to get them all finished.  Let me just say, my husband worked really hard, and they look WONDERFUL! (He also finished all the other unfinished items from previous projects).  That brings me to my point.  Now that the ceiling, the walls, the cabinets and the lighting have been updated, everything else looks, well - bad.  When we had an ugly kitchen, it was an ugly kitchen.  No need to apologize -  it’s just ugly.  Now we have a better kitchen with a cracked tile floor, outdated countertops, and mismatched appliances.  It may have been best to just stay ugly, you know what I mean?  I’m going to drive this point home with my next example.  (Male readers may want to skip this next part)  A couple of years ago, I had breast reduction surgery coupled with a breast lift.  Those of you who have known me from “back in the day,” know this was a good thing.  I was pretty happy with the outcome, but sadly – now all I can focus on is the fact that a tummy tuck would sure make the girls look even better.  Someone out there knows what I’m talking about.  Insurance paid for the reduction surgery, and I feel sure if they knew how much better the whole picture would look with the abdominoplasty – I bet they’d want to throw that under the coverage umbrella as well.  Anyway, case in point “It’s Cheaper to Stay Ugly!”

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest (no pun intended)…let me enlighten you on the craziness that is the Midwestern Spring.  After living with extremely cold temperatures the past several months, at the slightest hint of warm temperatures, everyone (including me) feels the need to pull out the shorts, flip-flops, tees, and sunscreen.  There is, however, a slight problem with this whole scenario.  Considering we are still experiencing lows near freezing, it makes for a most uncomfortable start to the day.  This morning, the three oldest all dressed in shorts and t-shirts (I did make them wear a light jacket) stood shivering waiting for the bus, but remained unwavering in their apparel decisions considering it could reach 60 degrees today.  I went to Bible study in a pair of flip-flops, but had the heater on high the entire way there to try and thaw out my toes.  Since we’ve had our heater off in the house the past couple of days, Luke had to eat breakfast in a fleece pullover this morning because his little arms were so cold he could hardly move.  When we got out of Bible Study, I felt encouraged – both spiritually and because the sun was doing a nice job of warming things up.  When I walked in our house, however, I immediately had to go looking for my fuzzy slippers and a cup of hot coffee to keep me warm until the house catches up with outside.  Of course, by about 8:00 tonight the house will have warmed up, I’ll turn on fans and open windows, and then by about 1:00 am we’ll all be freezing again.  Oh joy!

Last point, today is St. Patty’s Day.  I made everyone wear green for fear that one of them would be pinched – especially Nate by a forward thinking hormonal young girl.    Anyway, when I dropped Luke off at his class for Bible Study, a little boy came up crying and holding his arm.  Evidently, a little girl kept pinching this little boy because he wasn’t wearing green.  There is something terribly wrong about teaching our children from the time they are old enough to understand, that pinching is bad behavior except for one solitary day in March when your buddy isn’t wearing what an old Irish tradition advises. 

Okay, just one more thing - I promise.  I just had to run to the middle school to pick up Nate (he has 101 fever).  We rushed home to meet Philip and Anna before they got off the bus.  This morning, we were extremely rushed and since I already had Anna E.’s clothes laid out, I left her to dress herself.  I focused solely on her teeth, hair and making sure she had a jacket before she boarded the bus this morning.  She just walked in and to my great embarrassment, she is wearing her shirt backwards.  What’s worse is that last night she slept in this bright red tank top with Elmo’s face on the front.  Yep, you can see it underneath her light green shirt.  So much for proper Irish attire.

like father, like daughter

Anyone that knows me is aware of my love for a good zoo.  Anna Elizabeth’s love of animals is also very well documented on this blog.  Since Kaleesha is only good for about one trip to the zoo (and it’s smells) a year, and that she had filled her quota already – I decided to have a daddy/daughter date and take advantage of a warm (45 degrees) day.  I should back up and say that it was originally designed as a daddy/little ones date - both Anna and Luke.  However, Luke did not hold up his end of the bargain and poop in the potty this week (oh well…)

It is always a special time between dads and daughters – Anna maximizes the experience by gushing over dear old dad….. and my heart skips a beat.   There are, of course, a couple of great stories that obviously revolve around Anna entertaining those around her. 

We took a break from animal gazing so that Anna could play on the playground.  She found a set of bars that were kind of like a figure eight about 5 feet off the ground.  She had to climb another toy and jump over just to get to them.  She then proceeded to flip, twist, hang upside down, and squeeze through the bars for the next 10 minutes.  She never fell – and never tired to the point that she needed to come down.  At first, she attracted some open mouth stares from some of the kids around here.  Then I started noticing some moms and grandmothers staring and moving in closer (for the inevitable fall no doubt).  Pretty soon, moms were pointing out to their kids the “show” that was taking place – a few people might have even clapped.  It was a little surreal and I decided to end the show once I figured out Anna was getting even more daring with all of the attention. 

The next performance was at the Walrus exhibit.  This is one of our favorites – there is a below ground viewing area where you can see the walrus family underwater.  One of the smaller walrus was pressed up against the glass looking at all the people sitting in the stands watching them.  Anna squeezed in to the window frame where the walrus was – there was a ledge she could stand on.  The walrus, about the size of a Mini-Cooper, was looking right at her (with eyes the size of tennis balls).  Their faces were literally separated by an inch of plexiglas.  It really became entertaining when Anna started moving her head all around – up, down, left and right.  Everytime she moved, the walrus would move with her.  Every once in a while, he would go up for a breath and then come back down and find her again.  Keep in mind – there are at least 5-6 other kids right next to her – but he always found her.  At one point, she jumped over to another pane of glass (on the other side of a column).  The walrus took on a frightful look until he figured it out and switched panes as well - at which point the crowd of about 40 people all broke into applause.  It was really special for Anna - maybe she has a future as one of those zoo-keepers who wears a microphone and interacts with the animals during a show. 

She also took pride in reminding me every time I made a comment about an animal starting by referring to it as a  ”he”, that “he could be a she”.  I did make the comment at one point that “I know that baboon is a boy”, only to quickly correct myself with, ”Never-mind Anna.  I bet your right - its probably a girl”.   The only negative moment was when she blamed me for not getting picked to participate in the dolphin show.  She just knew it was a conspiracy because I did not want her to have fun.  She was all good though when I let her go up to one of the dolphin trainers afterward to ask some questions. 

I must say – it is a little scary at how quickly my daughter is changing from girl to young lady.  It makes my heart hurt to know that I will never get these days back.  It is equally exciting to see how God is molding her into a vessel he can use to impact this world.

petting sharks

love that look

she likes the green ones

this ones my favorite

baby Kodiaks

good times

 

Here is a picture of the “little ones” sleeping from a couple of nights ago.  You never know what your going to find with those two.

Tales From the Clipped

Luke’s last haircut was sometime in December before Christmas.  It was actually a Great Clip, so today I ventured back looking for another one and some relief from the mop that had overtaken his head.  There was a “No Wait” sign in the window, which made me smile because who likes to wait?  Luke is a little leery of haircutting establishments.  His fingers go straight to his mouth and he looks something like a scared mouse as he sits in the ginormous chair waiting for the torture  cut.  The lady, let’s call her “X,” asks me if I want it “the same as last time.”  (Evidently they keep notes on their computers of what was done at the last visit).  I tell her yes, it was a great cut last time – that’s exactly how I wanted it.  “X” then asks me if Luke is scared of the clippers.  I tell her he doesn’t particularly like them, but he would do fine.  She tells me she is using a “4.”  This really doesn’t mean anything to me, so I just wait and watch.  “X” proceeds to attach a guard to the clippers and turn them on.  I think she is going to do the very bottom and sides – they usually use scissors to cut Luke’s hair, not clippers.  In the next second, it’s as if I had been punched in the gut.  “X” mowed a straight line right down the middle of Luke’s head.  She buzzed all those beautiful curls right off!  I couldn’t help but let out a painful “Oh My Goodness!  He’s never had a haircut like this before!”  With my eyes wider than saucers, I watched as my little boy lost his hair.  I could hear myself chuckling nervously.  I told “X” I was laughing to keep from crying.  That didn’t work for too long, unfortunately.  To make matters worse, “X” was very defensive about the whole thing.  She never apologized, she just kept saying ”this is what the notes said in the computer.”  When we were checking out (yes I paid for it), Luke kept asking for a sucker.  “X” knew I was not happy, so I guess to punish me, she refused to offer my three year old any candy.  I was beyond peeved.  When I called Wayland in a state of rage and distress, he told me he would never have paid for a cut and service (or lack thereof) like that.  He’s got a call in to the manager.  Maybe we’ll get our ten bucks back, but it’s gonna take a while for the curls to grow back.  Until then, here’s our little Luker…

"Lockless"

(I think he looks a little like Nathanael with his hair like this – that isn’t such a bad thing)

Serious.Life

I just wanted to share a link to an e-magazine that I find really inspiring.  The Riggs Family Blog is on my Blogroll, and Brent, (the dad) also publishes this incredible magazine with great stories, advice, and pics from the blog community.  At the end of this month’s issue, there is a blog directory and TEAMThompson is on the list!  (There are hundreds of blogs listed, and I checked out a several that were great).  Anyway, just wanted to pass it on – hope you enjoy!

http://www.seriouslifemagazine.com

***Forehead Update***

Several of you have asked for a picture of Wayland’s head.  Mind you, it has been one week and two days since he was “fouled”  and this morning when it still looked questionable, Wayland decided to visit the MD.  Wayland had several days visiting customers with his sales reps last week and it seemed that no one could take their eyes off his forehead.  I guess you can see why.  At first, it looked like “a motorcycle peeled out on it,” now it looks like some kind of  “STD.”  (Both of these are Wayland’s humorous, but very accurate descriptions).  The doctor told him it was a case of  ”contact dermatitis.”  In other words, he has had some kind of reaction to the gobs of triple antibiotic cream he’s been applying two times a day for the past nine days to his wound.   It’s either that, or the ball was covered in poison ivy when it hit Wayland’s head – we’re really not sure.  Poor Wayland, he had poison ivy a couple of years ago and he was miserable.  The summer he got it, it looked like a throwback to the 70’s because he refused to wear anything but long socks with his shorts.  (I’m sure he got just as many weird looks for that as he would have for the disgusting rash that covered his legs).  Yes, my husband has had his fair share of weird reactions to common substances.  About a week after his vasectomy,  he had an allergic reaction to codeine.  The rash started right on the incision site and started spreading.  I’ll never forget the look of terror that gripped Wayland’s face when he discovered it.  Luke was days away from being born and Wayland was walking around like a zombie doped up on Benadryl and sporting a rash the likes of something I had never seen.  (It was even inside his ears and mouth!)  Needless to say, he is an old pro at dealing with rashes and embarrassing things on his body that make people stop and stare.  That did not, however, stop him from buying a package of bandages to cover his spot before he ventures out into the field this week to meet with his sales team and their customers.  Let’s all say a little prayer that the medicine the doctor gave him works really fast – he has a big sales meeting coming up and some personnel from corporate headquarters will be there.  I’m sure he’d love to avoid an explanation if at all possible.

Foul Ball?!?

Look Ma, No Hands!!!

I’ve mentioned before that my two little ones are by far the most imaginative and ingenious of our group.  They can play for hours, totally swept up in the world they’ve created, completely unaware that life is going on “as usual” around them.  Every once in a while Anna E.  will say, “Hey mom, come see the ________ we made.”   Sometimes it is Santa’s Sleigh and she is the reindeer (Santa Sighting).  Sometimes it’s a dog shelter (and Luke is, of course, the caged animal).  Sometimes it is a rocket-ship blasting off into “touter spades” (as Luke likes to say).  And sometimes, like this morning, it is a gymnasium, complete with tumbling mat and make-shift balance beam. 

“Momma! Momma!  Come see Luke do the balance beam!!!”

“Okay, Anna.  I’ll be there in just a second.  I just have to finish this load of laundry.”  Whoa…hold on there, we don’t have a balance beam in our house.  My “spidey-senses” are tingling.  This requires immediate intervention. 

I walk into the playroom and look what I find.  Mind you, when I see it, I know it is not stable.  Do I remove my child from danger ASAP?  Nah!  “Okay, Anna – hold Luke’s hand and don’t let go.  I’m going to go get the camera!!!”

Anna E.'s Balance Beam

Notice I'm still snapping pictures - how safe!

Big sis' has a go

Gymnastics Star

Okay, that may be a bit exaggerated.  Today was her first class, so I guess (technically) she isn’t a star – yet.  I don’t know about you, but I get a great deal of joy watching my children “do.”  It may be a simple “do” – something like watching Luke try and snap his pants or put on his socks by himself.  A painful “do” – watching Philip give himself his shot or check his blood sugar 15 times in a day.  A loving “do” – watching big brother take the time to stop and really  listen to little brother and sister and then give them a big hug.  (Okay – I’m veering here)  Today, I got to watch Anna E. “do” gymnastics, and it was a blast. 

She was so excited she could hardly contain herself.  The entire class – she could hardly contain herself.  Most of the girls in the class have been doing gymnastics for quite a while now; today was Anna E.’s first time around.  I don’t think she stopped giggling with delight the entire time.  I found myself cracking up and then wanting to snap my fingers and shush her so the teacher could teach without the annoying distraction.  I loved watching my daughter do ballet and tap (my true loves), but I knew she needed something that would help her release a little more energy.  I think we might have found a match.  She bounced around, tumbled, jumped, hopped, (and of course giggled) for an entire hour and was completely bummed when it was time to go.  She’s already asked me three times how many days until her next lesson.  It’s going to be a long week. 

Balance Beam Beauty

 

All By Herself!

Pure Delight