don't blink...~

...or you will open your eyes to find your sweet, sleepy newborn baby girl is a wide-eyed, smiley, wiggly bundle of smiles.

...you will realize you missed an entire season while you were snuggling.

...you'll find that your two year old found all the preschool puzzles and has learned that it's so much fun to throw the pieces down the stairs. Repeatedly.

...that that same two year now speaks in complete sentences and has an utterly delightful stutter. And says things every day that melt your heart like, "Me loving you, Mommy. Me loving you." And you secretly smile that he is your blondie and his head is still charmingly on the um...larger side.

...your second baby princess is now six and is no longer a little girl. And that she would most definitely take issue with being called a baby princess seeing as how she is quite often found leading a pack of boys to the secret hide out in the woods and can out run just about all of them.

...your first baby princess is now a young lady, truly on the verge of womanhood. And you will be delighted to realize you really are becoming very good friends, and not enemies.

...your oldest son grew in not only stature but has attained a level of maturity that you and your husband are astounded by.

...that your almost eight year old son still likes to hold your hand in public and realizing that brings untold joy.

...your four year old son has grown amazingly tall and is, in fact, your first left-handed child and the people at the art center really are amazed at his artistic ability, and not just being nice. And you will smile because he is still your Mr. Charming.

...you are now 29 and a half and you have almost arrived at the "magical" age you always felt was truly a grown up. And that there are now quite a few mothers out there that are younger than you are. And that is an odd feeling.

...you will open your eyes and be delighted to find that boy you married (when you were just six years older than your oldest daughter) is truly your favorite person on earth to be with. Still. By far. And you still think he's pretty cute.

...but when you do blink, you will open your eyes to look around and you will know that God is good. And you are blessed. And the boundary lines have fallen for you in oh, such pleasant places.

...and if you are smart, you will close your eyes, and take it in, and write it down. And you will remember and be reminded, yet again, that He, the Giver of Good Gifts is faithful. And you will be thankful.

~O Giver of Abundant Life...may I never forget...

...

pretending to be farmers~

Once upon a time, when I had absolutely no idea what I was talking about, I used to say I wanted to marry a farmer. I think this came from loving to be at my grandparents' house who even still to this day live and work their farm. They were so happy, life was so peaceful and it seemed like that was just the way people were supposed to live. There's still a part of me that believes if we could just return to simpler times a lot of the world's problems could be solved. But I digress...

Anyway, as I grew older I realized that I did not, in fact, want to be a farmer's wife. I wanted to be a contractor's wife :o) (well, I wanted to be Glen's wife, and he's a contractor, so, you know.) Running an entire farm entails work I can't even really imagine. It makes me tired just thinking about it.

So when Glen and I moved to the country, we had no aspirations of farming or growing anything (other than babies, heh heh.) As time has passed, we've wanted to learn some gardening, we have some fruit trees, and this year we got some chickens right before Grace was born. And remember when I said Glen was oddly attached to them? Well, the feeling is mutual, because they follow him around everwhere. It is hilarious. He's like a mother hen. They are completely free range (which means we are now tick free - hooray!) except we do put them up at night. But as soon as they're out, if Glen's out, they're following him around.

So even though our first year gardening attempt was a dismal failure, unless you count the chickens eating the tomatos successful, which I guess you could, sort of, at least the chickens are doing well. Thankfully, we haven't even lost one. And to prove it, last night Moriah discovered the first eggs.


They're tiny, but I'm told they'll get bigger in about a week or so. Depending on how many we get, we're hoping to be able to sell some. Now we're thinking about round two and possibly adding a rooster to the mix so we can actually get our own chicks instead of having to buy them.

So gardening, not so much, though we called this a practice year anyway, but chickens...they've been so much easier than I ever expected.

And chickens are about all that's going on in my world this week, unless you want to talk about the throwing up four year old, but I'd rather talk about the chickens.

the three month funk(dealing with postpartum depression and thoughts on living a surrendered life)~

It hits me every time. Like a train. Even though I know it's coming. I hesitate to even write about it this time as this past year one of my closest friends walked through the worst postpartum depression I've ever witnessed. I've only read about cases that were that severe. And in no way am I passing judgment, I mention it because I never realized how utterly horrific it can be for some women.

But I do want to mention it for several reasons. So I can look back next time and maybe remember and get some perspective when I'm in the middle of it again, so I can remember and encourage my girls if they go through it one day, so other women can know they are not alone and hopefully be encouraged.

I couldn't decide if I wanted to approach it from a laid-back, "that's just life, no big deal now that I am (hopefully) coming out of it" perspective or from a little more serious perspective, but as I'm writing, I'm feeling the need to be a little more sober about it. Because it's really hard if you are someone that goes through it. And again, I cringe to even really make comparisons after my friend struggled horribly for months. Compared to what she went through, my experience is a walk in the park, but after asking numerous friends over the years, I've found that while it's nothing compared to severe ppd, it is quite a bit worse than any of my friends seem to experience, so I want to provide another place women can maybe find some help and encouragement.

I would like to say it's gotten some better with each baby, knowing now to watch for it. Having the perspective that it will pass does help some, but when you're in the middle of feeling depressed, even that knowledge is truthfully, not that comforting. So even though since the second baby I've known to watch for it, and been able to know it's coming and been able to identify it and even forewarn Glen, once it hits, it's really hard for me until it passes.

Women are always warned to watch for signs of ppd (postpartum depression) after a birth. Being overly emotional and weepy at first is normal. I've never actually had much of that. Maybe a little, but generally the first two months after giving birth are a really sweet, and usually easy time for me. But when my babies hit between three and four months my hormones shift, and with it often comes our babies' difficult stage. I don't know why it is, but generally the three month age is the hardest I have with my babies. I don't know if they sense something going on with me, if my milk changes due to such drastic hormone changes, or really what it is, but most of our babies have napping and tummy troubles during that month which only compounds my sense of being overwhelmed and stressed. (And just to have a record of it somewhere, this time around I have learned that my being overly stressed, preoccupied, and busy due to external circumstances (van shopping and several out of town trips) makes my babies highly agitated and unable to be easily comforted and settled. Meaning screaming most evenings and any time she was tired, virtually unable to be comforted. As soon as this was past and we were able to be home and just living "normal" life she immediately calmed down. And I also discovered, after much trial and error, that orange juice was giving her horrible, horrible tummy pains. Once I cut out the orange juice she has had virtually no tummy problems at all.)

So I did some research this time. Even though no one close to me has ever said they have a similar experience, I have heard from a few different places online that this happens to other women around the same time. What I learned has been so valuable this time around. I learned that when a woman is pregnant her progesterone production goes into maximum overdrive, producing up to 400mg of progesterone a day toward the end of pregnancy. Then, she gives birth, and since her ovaries are still dormant there is minimal to zero progesterone being produced. For awhile there are enough stores in her body to swing along for awhile, three to four months usually, and then, especially if she is nursing and her ovaries are still dormant, there is suddenly a huge progesterone deficiency and for some women this triggers depression. It's also what triggers postpartum hair loss. From my reading it sounds like quite a bit of even regular depression in women can be at least somewhat attributed to estrogen dominance and too little progesterone.

So what does that mean? I identified a very possible sounding cause and wanted to try and help myself this time. So I did some more research and found that a proper estrogen/progesterone balance can help women with a whole host of reproductive/women related issues; it can help women that have trouble sustaining a pregnancy due to an insufficient amount of progesterone, it can help with pms, it can help with postpartum depression, it can help with regular depression, and it can help peri- and post-menopausal women. Obviously I am not a doctor, but I would encourage any women that feels they may benefit from this knowledge to first research it for herself and then talk with your doctor.

So I went to Whole Foods and got some natural progesterone cream. (Make sure you get some that is not soy based as that can just compound any estrogen dominance. Do some research as well on what is good to get.) I got a pre-measured pump kind just so that I'd make sure to use the correct amount. It has been the difference in night and day. I had felt myself getting bad, and let it get really bad for a couple of weeks, so I know it's not just that my experience was different this time. It made a literal difference overnight. I at first hesitated to attribute it to the cream as I started it on a Thursday and Fridays just tend to be better since I know the weekend is coming. But almost three weeks have now passed and I can say it has been and continues to be a life saver. Although it does help within a day, it does seem that building up my levels was gradual. Every day was better, but this week I finally feel really normal. Possibly even extra better :o) I use it twice a day. Normally you would use it three weeks on, one week off, but since I am nursing and not needing to ovulate, I need to find out if I should also take a break for a week or not.

I anticipated it being rough this time. Ever since Caleb was born I've had someone, either my mother in law or my sister, that has kept my kids for me one day a week. For the past two years it's often been both. My mother in law would keep the little kids one day giving me a day with the big kids for cleaning, school, etc. and my sister has kept some or all and taken them out to do something fun. (Now you all know my secret :o) I freely admit it makes a huge difference knowing I have that break coming every week. For almost a year now, it's been sporadic with my mother in law as she's had her parents and then her mother in law living with them and having to provide pretty much round-the-clock care, but my sister was very consistent. Until she went to Romania to do a DTS. For six months. Right when Grace turned three months old. So right when I anticipated the depression hitting, I went from having a weekly break for eight years to having one of my closest friends leave for six months and having no regular all-day break from the kids whatsoever. (Well, other than Glen, who is a huge help. But you know what I mean.) Even their one day a week home school group was out for the summer. I had briefly entertained the idea of (gasp!) a mother's day out program in the fall, but I know for me, for our family, that is not what God wants me to do, so I'm not. I know it's all part of the process of Him continuing to work in me more of Himself and work out of me more of my self-centeredness. You know, that whole refining part of following Jesus that we like to conveniently try and get out of. So for me this is not an option.

But you know, God has been gracious, and even making this transition in the middle of dealing with ppd has been relatively easy. The depression has not been easy, but just being home daily with all the kids without a weekly "break" has been good. In all honesty, it's something I've known I need to do for a very long time. I know I've talked some on here about my process of learning to like to be at home. For me, especially in my early years of having children, always being on the go, always being busy, always having somewhere I could send my kids instead of having to deal with them, allowed me to not have to face a good bit of selfishness, laziness, and just plain junk in me that needed to be dealt with. And even though facing my stuff and my self-centeredness is not fun, nor is it easy, it is what we are called as Christ-followers to do. And I want to live a surrendered life, I want to become more like Him, so I'm pressing in. And I'm finding even in the difficulty, it is such a sweet place to be.

noah and the beautiful princess~

I wish I were a better blogger, I really do. But such is life.

Here are a few recent photos of our sweet Grace, who, in true Noah fashion (we don't call him Mr. Charming for nothing), he has named, "Beautiful Princess."

Seriously. He really does call her that. He can be overheard daily running up to her, tickling her feet, saying, "Hello, Beautiful Princess." Every girl needs a brother like Noah.

And he's obsessed with her feet. Still. From the day she was born when he repeatedly asked me in a small whisper, "Mommy, can you uncover her feet and let me see them just one more time? Pleeeeease???" Until now when he runs up to her numerous times a day and tickles them and can't keep his hands off of them if I'm holding her and he's standing nearby. But then again, who can blame him? Baby feet are so yummy. :o)

my life in cars(otherwise known as "i deal with pride")~

You know where this is going, right? Ten points to anyone who can make an accurate prediction before reading the post. Leave me a comment if you do, I'll trust you :o) No fair to anyone who is a facebook friend. And if you're reading this on facebook, you may have to go over to the blog to see the photos. Not sure.

As long as I can remember I've had this weird obsession with cars. They've always been a big deal for whatever reason. As early as preschool I remember my Dad driving us around in his huge brown jeep with roll bars. Sometimes he'd let us ride in the back and I distinctly remember him taking me to preschool and driving up on the sidewalk saying "Look! No hands!" Because my Dad was always fun like that :o)

I remember being horribly embarassed when my parents would pick us up in this ridiculously long white car from The Private School we went to. It might have been a perfectly normal car for all I know, I just remember being embarassed.

I remember my friend Heather's family had a super cool minivan, complete with the wood paneling down the side. You know, back when minivans were fairly new. It was the old boxy style and I actually got to Ride. In. It. when I went to Gulf Shores with their family.

Around this same time, my Dad bought what I thought was a pretty cool blue Station Wagon. Even if he did get it from his work and it had previously been used to haul raw fish around. Don't ask me how we could tell that's what it had been used for. But pretty much anyone who had the privilege to ride around with us could figure it out. I remember traveling all the way to the Florida keys in it with my middle sister and cousin. We had a whole cabbage patch land set up, and I read the entire book of Esther all the way through in the back corner. I was five, and I was surely impressed with myself.

When I was in Junior High, at the same Private School, I was ecstatic when my parents bought a white Chevy Lumina, you know, the ones that looked like a spaceship. It didn't matter at all that the girl I absolutely couldn't stand also had one. That only meant that I was on par with the Private School Kids.

It was a great van. Until I totalled it in the Very Big Accident. After that my parents bought a gigantic customized Astro that I literally had to sit on phonebooks to drive.






My very first car that I purchased was a 78(?) Ford Fairmont I bought from a friend for $300. I was ecstatic. The school I went to my junior year was very alternative, very grunge. I was coming out of my rebellious phase having picked up quite a few telltale signs of having gone through it such as kool-aid dyed red hair and confiscating all my formerly hippy parents' old clothing. I was pretty cool, or so I thought, and this car was the icing on the cake. Nevermind that I let the engine burn up after only driving it a handful of times. But I thought I was cool.




After my Fairmont mishap, my loving Dad had it towed to a nearby dealership and somehow managed to convince them it was worth something (or maybe he actually paid them to take it, who knows) and bought me a slightly used Corsica. It was lovely and dependable. It was also now my job to cart my sisters around town and myself to work, school, and everywhere else. And believe me, I went everywhere else. The Corsica is what I drove the entire time Glen and I were dating. Good times. Upon my engagement at the ripe old age of 16 and a half, he offered to give it to us as a wedding gift if we would consider getting involved with Amway.




Hence my next car, a 94ish gold Honda Accord. Be not deceived by the photo. I was so eager to find a car that Glen and I could call our very own, that I overlooked one minor flaw when buying it from the barely-speaking- English guy who "had at least six other interested buyers." We test drove it at night during the cooler days of Spring and upon Glen inquiring of me if the air worked, I assured him it most definitely did. *sigh*
Isn't it fun remembering those early days of marriage when all you really needed was love? Oh, and I should have mentioned that it was a stick which was truly an experience learning to drive. And great fun to drive on our honeymoon, during a really hot weekend in June, and all through the sweltering summer. In traffic. To work. Forty-five minutes away.





Fast forward eight months. In a move to pacify his newly pregnant (read: hormonal) seventeen year old wife, Glen graciously agrees to buy me a fabulous Infiniti G20 that a friend of my Dad's was selling. This was after I nagged begged him relentlessly, finally in tears because the girl I worked with drove a Lexus. I mean seriously, I couldn't really be expected to drive around a baby in the sweltering summer in the "sure the air works" Honda. Feel free to roll your eyes now.





I'm not sure what possessed me to think I didn't want the Infiniti anymore. It was a fabulous car. All I can claim is SUV fever. Anna was a baby, maybe I thought it was safer, but probably I just thought it was cool. The only thing in our price range was a 94 Ford Explorer that was teal with pretty significant hail damage. But hey, it had the Eddie Bauer package.. I did love that car, though. Hail damage and all. Even after I was rear ended and instead of having it repaired used the money to pay for Ethan's birth. I had always wanted an SUV. But trading the Infiniti? What was I thinking???? And thankfully, my Dad didn't disown us for buying a Ford.




For some reason, after Caleb was born. We decided we needed to have a minivan. So we bought a green Chevy Venture that we kept for all of three months before we decided our paid for Explorer was a perfectly good vehicle. We paid a stupid tax of $1000, a 'la Dave Ramsey, to sell it, though.





We kept the Explorer for a long time. Selling it during The Great Sickness that found our entire family on the living room floor puking our guts out and watching The Iron Giant and The Fox and the Hound over and over and over and over. But we'd been trying to sell it for awhile, and seeing as how there wasn't a huge market for teal cars with hail damge, even though it was an SUV, we dragged ourselves out of the house and sold it to someone in an Exxon parking lot. We had grown into a Three Children In Car Seats family, so the switch to a minivan was justified this time around. We found a good deal on a Town & Country. Soon after getting it, I was rear ended yet again, and seeing as how this time we used the repair money to pay for Moriah's birth, I drove around with a dented in rear bumper for awhile. Funny how in my quest to drive something that I deemed "cool" at the time, I was willing to put up with less than perfection. So at least I'm not a total snob.




Soon after we moved to The Country, the Town & Country began having some serious problems. I don't even remember what we did with it, but we bought a Ford Expedition. Because I had always wanted an Expedition. It was super cool, but we soon discovered that getting Four Kids In Car Seats and having storage room for All Their Stuff, didn't go so well with the very backseat being needed for carseats, but leaving zero storage space. So we traded it. For a Honda Odyssey.



(read this next section with your voice dripping with sarcasm) A Honda Odyssey was next on the list of cars I thought were cool (not yet being able to justify a Suburban which had always been my ultimate dream car.) But once again, budget constraints prevented me from getting one that was as nice as I really wanted, so I had to settle for cloth seats and (gasp!) black handles that told the world I, in fact, did not have The Really Nice Odyssey.





We kept the Odyssey, which I grew to love, black handles and all, until close to Noah's birth. Five Kids In Car Seats made a minivan a pretty tight squeeze, so we found a good deal on finally, a Suburban. With leather. And heated seats. And a TV. *sigh* This was the stage of life in which I remember having several conversations with friends about if we would, in fact, have enough children to outgrow it. A seventh child was The Line. What would we do? Obviously, the car I drove shouldn't (and wasn't) the deciding factor for if we had more children. But oh, how I loved my Suburban.

I tried to keep it. I really did. I could fit All The Kids in it as long as Glen wasn't with us, and when we needed to go somewhere together we could use his 15 passenger work van. But like I said. It's his work van, he really needs the space for work. And is has over two hundred thousand miles which is fine for around town, but not so much for long trips. Like camping when pregnant as soon as I'm off bedrest, camping while pregnant and due in a month, camping with a five week old, camping with a two month old, camping with a three month old. You get the picture.

So yes. I crossed The Line. Why not a simple 12 passenger you ask? Well, because when you take out the very back seat to allow for storage space, the seating is the same as the Suburban. Hence, I am now a 15 Passenger Van Mom. Doesn't quite have the same ring as minivan mom or Suburban mom or soccer mom, does it? Ahem.

Happy Saturday :o)

i'm no super mom~

I think the most heard comment I get from people when they find out I am a mom of seven, is the classic, "How do you it?" Or some variation thereof. My answer is always, always "By the grace of God." Which sounds like a really pat answer, and I usually try and elaborate a little, but I know myself too well to take any shred of glory for myself. I cling to Him. There is nothing in me, it is all Him.

Here is the best concise answer I've ever heard. And let me just say, the beginning was like a time warp :o)

(Thanks to Amy's Humble Musings for the link.)

Happy Wednesday :o)

email me link~

I know a lot of people read these posts in a feed reader, so I just wanted to let you know I added an ~email me~ link to the blog.

So fire away :o)

for your saturday reading pleasure~

Here are some more links that I think are definitely worth reading...

Holy Habits

A weighty post that once again reminds us that what we do is important. Immensely. And there's a lot more to it than math facts, cooking, and tying shoes; yet life and relationship are tied up in those every day things.
An excerpt... "They say a mother wears an apron and a myriad of hats. I say she wears a collar too. A collar which can never be removed. A collar which cannot be observed by the material world: a clerical collar. For she is a priest in her home, before a congregation of children. ...While a mother continually changes her hats throughout the hours of the day, her collar remains: she is a priest proclaiming Christ’s glories. She cares for souls."


Solving the Crisis in Homeschooling: Exposing the 7 Major Blind Spots of Homeschoolers

Unfortunately, I have been guilty of some of these far too often. An excellent read, I'm printing this one out. Vital for parents who want to keep their children's hearts.


Shelter Is Not A Place. It's a Relationship.

On sheltering our kids in the real world.
Another excerpt... "Shelter is not a place. It's a relationship. Although we need to be wise about keeping our kids safe (let's not be simplistic here), sheltering our kids from every potential evil is impossible. The world is corrupt. Hey, the youth group is corrupt!

I would love to withdraw my family from society and keep them from having to face the messiness of navigating relationships in a fallen world. But that’s just not feasible. Maybe not even desirable. Besides, we have enough sin nature between all seven of us, they’d still get to see plenty of corruption!

Instead, we want to make sure our home is the safe place, the most comforting sanctuary on earth, where our kids are guaranteed acceptance, affection and genuine love. Our relationship with our kids should be a reflection of God's relationship with us - overflowing with grace and forgiveness.

And while we’re doing that, we're introducing them to Jesus, and we’re walking along side them, showing them how to “do life” with Christ at the helm.

We don’t have to know all the answers, and heaven forbid we should try to appear perfect. I fail daily, and have to ask my kids’ forgiveness all the time. But we feel strongly that the more spiritually arrogant we are, and the more we try to hide our flaws, the more likely our kids will become disillusioned with God later on.

I thought all of these were excellent reads and will be keeping them close by. Let me know what you think.

Happy Saturday!

(and Stacey, let me know when you have your baby!!)

pica, anyone?~

Sonic ice. My new obsession. After every baby I have some sort of food related craving. Craving is really too nice of a word. It's more like a give it to me now and no one gets hurt sort of problem. We won't talk about how with Caleb it was orange sherbet by the gallon, with Noah is was Texas Toast Cheeseburgers with an M&M Blast, or with Grace this time it was margherita pizza and sonic ice. An entire pizza every single morning.

I prefer to remember the other babies, with whom I preferred things like sandwiches and salads.

Not so this time. Now, mind you, a margherita pizza is largely tomatos and basil, an entire one contains only 700 calories which is an okay allotment for a newly nursing mama for one meal. But still. It kinda hints at gluttony. So I had to stop. And I did. But the Sonic ice is another story. I go through a bag of it every two days. Sometimes an entire bag a day. Usually with water.

When I am nursing, especially the first few months, I am ravenous, feeling the need to eat literally constantly. Eating ice is my way of tricking my mind into thinking I'm eating. And it's calorie free! But I do crave it, and that can be a sign of pica. And while I've never actually eaten powdered laundry detergent, sand, cornstarch, or baking soda, I think about chewing it. Always have. And until a couple of years ago I was a horrible nail biter. All signs of pica. I was anemic my entire pregnancy with Grace, and no amount of supplements or eating of iron rich foods changed it.

So. Should I be concerned?

worth your time(otherwise known as i really need to clear out my tabs)~

I do this all the time. Click, "Whoa, that looks like it might take some time, I'll come back," or "I really should share that." Over and over until I have more tabs open than can fit across the top.

So, without further ado, here are some various things I've enjoyed, thought about, and think just might be worth your time.

The Temptation of Laziness

Something I struggle with daily. I've got a post on this in the works.

How I Found God's Will In A Sink Full of Dirty Dishes

On finding purpose and sanctification in mothering.

Sticks In Jars

A job/chore method that I am seriously considering trying out. For small or large families.

Tips for Surviving (and thriving!) in the Toddler Phase

From a mom of four in five years. Excellent, excellent post. So well said. I wish I'd written it myself. And not just practical tips, more toward emotional and spiritual thriving!

From Joyful Chaos

A mom of ten talks about life with her first baby and learning to mother in the way that works for her family. The more children I have, the more I value doing what works for us and ignoring what everyone else "says" we should be doing. Life is so much easier now than it was in the years with just one or two. This is not a "you should practice attachment parenting" post or recommendation from me, we are actually a good mix of attachment and scheduling. It just really struck a chord with me as Grace is such a peaceful and content baby, and I really feel that aside from the grace of God (which it is!), it is also because I've learned some things about giving her what she needs. This is the first in a series of posts. I've not actually read the rest of them yet.

Why Would You Want All Those Kids?

From a mother of fourteen on the eve of giving birth yet again. I loved this. Whether you have one child or fifteen, this will bless and encourage you. While short, and she's talking at first just about real life, toward the end she reflects on her relationships with her children and she puts it, getting ready to begin another love affair with a new baby. It gets sweeter each time. That I have learned.

I had some more, but as usual, lost them to little hands :o)

Happy Saturday!

buddies~

snuggle buddies

camping buddies



no, that's not a tv in our pop-up buddies



how many kids can you fit around a camper table buddies

cool buddies



rock climbing buddies



reading buddies



sleeping in the car buddies



3-D buddies



even though we're cousins don't we look alike buddies



happy buddies





pretending to be puppy dog buddies

smiling buddies

my sister thinks it's fun to dress me up buddies

singing and sleeping buddies

vegging buddies

the super-buddy

diaper changing buddies

sweet sleeping buddies

overheard in the garden~

Three year olds make great garden helpers. Especially if they're slight ocd boys :o) Not only does he do a great job counting and picking potato bugs and pulling weeds, but he's also happy to help out Grace when she loses her paci.

So, one evening when we were out working in our so pathetic it shouldn't be called a garden garden, Grace started to fuss in her bouncy seat. I asked Noah if he could go give her the paci, which he promptly did while making cute faces at her. A few moments after he went back to picking bugs, she began to fuss again.

So, overheard in the garden this week as Noah called out to baby Grace over and over...

"Don't fuss now, baby. I got to wook in da gahden. I got to wook in da gahden, baby."

I love three year olds, especially this one. :o)

wedded bliss, little people style~

You know you're parents to little people, and you've been married for awhile when for your 12th anniversary you take your kids out for ice cream to celebrate.

You know, I'm just saying... :o)