When Ivy Smiles

When Ivy smiles

so

do

I.

(and then I wipe her nose.)

One Day

One day,

when I come to take my shower/bath 

in the morning,

I won't have to gather up the rubber duckie,

the watering can

or the squirty lady bug toys.

Because one day

my bathtub won't have bath toys.

And I'm pretty sure

that I will miss them.

Thankful Thursday

I'll admit it,

I've been having a rough time of it lately.

Some of it is too difficult to lay out here on my blog,

some of it you may know already.

I learned this past weekend, though,

that something I thought was in the Bible...

isn't.

Somewhere along the way,

I had heard or had been taught 

to "be thankful in all circumstances"

or "be thankful for everything."

So when something crummy happened 

and I wanted to feel bad about it,

I had in the back of my mind

this little voice saying

"Come now--be thankful."

It was difficult.

It IS difficult to be thankful when something crummy happens...

when someone hurts you

or your health fails

or your van quits

or your vacuum breaks

or you experience a financial setback.

It was confusing to me...

be thankful for someone hurting me?

Be thankful for someone's ill health?

Be thankful that our van is running badly?

I was really struggling with this,

and feeling like "less" of a Christian for it.

This past weekend, though,

it was pointed out to me that God's word

doesn't say "Be thankful in all things".

What does it say?

1 Thessalonians 5:18 says 

"give thanks in all circumstances," NIV

"in everything, give thanks" NASB

Wow--that's a big difference!

Give thanks.

Give. Thanks.

In all circumstances,

in everything;

which is different than for every circumstance,

or for every thing.

Someone is hurting me?

I can give thanks to my Lord that He will never be hurtful to me.

When my grandma was diagnosed and died of cancer?

I can give thanks that our whole family was able to draw near and around her,

comforting her and each other at that time, and since.

Our van is failing?

I will give thanks that I am an at-home-mom who does not need a vehicle to get to work every day.

So, today,

this Thursday,

I am not going to be thankful that our house is a mess,

but I am going to give thanks that it is because our house is

filled with little feet who make messes.

Little feet like these...

and for sturdy little legs, too.

Happy Birthday, Nathaniel!

15 years ago today,

this young man was born.

He is the son who made me a mother,

the boy who made my parents grandparents,

and the person who makes me laugh every day.

Happy Birthday to you, Nathaniel!

Did I Ever Tell You About the Time...?

Did I ever tell you about the time 

I tried to take a picture of my five boys

but had varying levels of satisfactory smiles

and so

tried again,

and was still hoping we could do better...

I tried to insert a little comic relief

by saying they could make funny faces.

This was met with varying degrees of compliance.

I have some pretty tough customers.

I thought I'd give it one last shot

and realized:

it would have to do.

What's New, You Ask?

It's been a rough week around the farm...

Since last Thursday, I have:

~found out that someone (whom we know well) has entirely too much to say about us 

~attended a meeting where I talked too much, and I'm pretty sure I offended the hostess

~called the next day to apologize to said hostess and I think we're ok now

~attended an IBLP Seminar (this wasn't rough, just a big time commitment.  It's hard to be gone from the farm for very long without feeling anxious about what might be happening while we're gone.  However, this seminar is a HUGE blessing to our family, and a thoughtful someone is helping us to attend.)

~went to the grocery store on Sunday at noon-ish, wherein my husband said, "Oh yeah, tomorrow's Valentine's Day!  Did you get me something?" To which I replied that I had not.  As we rounded the end of the aisle, he looked to the bakery display and said, "Ooooooh, hey----a piece of red velvet cake! For a buck seventy-five!"

To which I replied, 

"I don't even like red velvet cake."

This was followed by

"And Honey?  Nothing makes a woman feel more special than her husband thinking 'I'm gonna get her that! It's only a $1.75!' "

~turned out I didn't have to worry.  

(Let's just say my husband isn't real big on days like Valentine's day, Mother's day, etc., 

and we'll leave it at that.)

~On Monday, an axle on one of the tractors broke. 

~Tuesday we found out that our well has to be replaced.  The well-digger-man (a friend of ours) said,

"You have two options here.  #1 Replace the well.  Or #2: sell the cows and move. 'Cause you can't stay here with no water."  We went with option #1, but I thought #2 didn't sound all that bad.

~Yesterday, my vacuum broke.

~I am still up at 1:30 after having spent a solid two hours washing dishes by hand.

I know many women say "well, we always used to wash dishes by hand. What's the big deal?"

My two-cents: people didn't used to have indoor plumbing either. But now we do, and if you didn't have that to use anymore, you'd probably find it to be an inconvenience.

~I ate a big bowl of ice cream after I finished the dishes.  Chip and mint.

~Later today, my friend Theresa will be coming over with her two lovely children.

This is a good thing and the kids and I are looking forward to spending the afternoon enjoying the nice temps we've been having! 

The well drillers will be here by 7:30, so I don't know if her son will get to see the big trucks on the yard, but I know my crew will be pretty much glued to the windows watching the men work.

When Boys Dress the Baby

it's enough to make my eyes hurt.

Some Farm Wives

by Mrs. Sheila Champlin, Ferryville, Wisconsin

Farm wives come in all shapes and sizes. Some slim, some fat, some petite, some large.

Some farm wives are fearless and brave, tackling angry sows and raging bulls; some are timid and mild and much better at helping ewe lambs, newborn calves and old mother cows.

Some farm wives are social butterflies involved in a hundred community events and activities; some are content to stay home as caretakers of family and home.

Some farm wives are authorities on animal breeding statistics and genetic backgrounds; some can't tell the difference from one cow to the next.

Some farm wives spend considerable time trying to keep an attractive outward appearance under highly smelly and dirty conditions; some like to spend their time developing a better inward appearance in caring for others more than themselves.

Some farm wives are horticulturists with prime landscaped farms and beautifully tended flower beds; some try hard but just seem to grow more weeds than flowers.

Some farm wives are authorities on commodity options and the futures market; some never know what the livestock or grain markets are.

Some farm wives despair over farm record-keeping, expenditures and cash flow; some are excellent bookkeepers and truly enjoy running a home computer system.

Some farm wives are great amateur veterinarians; some are better at powderpuff mechanics and squeezing a grease gun.

Some farm wives are outstanding homemakers, seamstresses, bakers, and crafters; some do minimal household duties and devote their time to community service projects, church work, volunteer work, or a town job.

Some farm wives can do all these things and more.  While that's the farm wife we might admire and most desire to be like, deep in her heart each farm wife seems to know that she is unique and special--just the way God made her.

Ahhhhh

I had a massage yesterday.

I had never had one before.

Wow.

Dennis had given me a gift certificate for one for Christmas, and I "cashed in my chips" yesterday afternoon.

It felt wonderful...and even if it hadn't, at the very least it was a half-hour in a quiet room, with soft music, dim lights, virtually no words, words that were spoken were quiet, and in those thirty minutes I didn't have to do anything for anyone else.

I think I'd save my pennies just to go lay on that nice warm table again--even if the massage woman wasn't there!

I have an idea now of what I want for Valentine's day, Mother's day, my birthday, Wednesday...

I Have a Baby Named Ivy

I have a baby named Ivy.

I don't post many pictures of her because

too often they look like this

or like this:

She's kind of a serious baby.

She lights up, however,

 when Nathaniel comes in the house or in the room

or if she hears his voice.

She is definitely his girl!

We tell him he's good with the babes.

*wink*

She blows raspberries a lot.

As in, pretty much every time I try to make her smile.

No lie.

But every so often, I can get her to smile at me.

Not when I'm directly behind the camera, though.

I have to peek up and around the side;

which is the direction her eyes look...

when she finally smiles.

Time for Stories

 Andrew loves to read stories to Ruby.

 Ruby loves when Andrew reads her stories.

 Even more so, Ruby loves Andrew.

You can see it in her eyes.

 When you have a lot of kiddos,

there is always someone with whom to practice one's reading.

 A willing participant, for sure.

 Did I mention Ruby loves Andrew?

 I love the pucker of her lips in this one.

 Oh, and did I mention Ruby loves Andrew?

 'Cause she does.

 You know, 

when she's not hitting him on the head.

Twins

Ha!

Okay, admit it:

some of you thought I was announcing twins,

didn't you?

I'm not.

I'm just posting about the two boys

that many people think are twins.

They're not.

They are 14 months apart;

Christopher (on the left side of the picture) is older, 

but slighter of build.

Elijah (on the right) is the younger brother,

and not so slight.

They are roughly the same height,

and they wear the same size clothes.

They like to dress alike

and they like to have their "own" things, too,

which I have heard is alot like twins.

But I wouldn't know,

because I've never had twins.

Just these two boys,

close in age,

who people think are twins.

A Girl and Her Chocolate

Ruby helped Mommy make a treat.

She asked if she could lick the bowl.

I told her she could and that I was 

going to take a picture of her,

since her hair was so perfectly done and all.

She was so careful to keep clean.

I mean, had I not watched her do this,

I may never have even known she'd been 

anywhere near chocolate.

See?

And her hair is still so...so...

perfect!

yummmmmm.

Clean and tidy--

that's my Ruby!

Puppy chow, before the powdered sugar.

Word to the wise:

A girl and her chocolate are not soon parted.

Super Ruby

In a pair of dashing glasses and 

a lovely cape, it's......

Super Ruby!

(which she pronounces "Booper Ruby")

Booper Ruby----awaaaay!!!

13

Today is Isaiah's 13th birthday.

I am now the mother of 

two teenagers.

When did that happen?

Probably when I wasn't looking.

More likely, when I was.

~ just a few hours old ~

Happy Birthday, Isaiah;

my second son,

the boy who lives to farm,

shares his birthday with Grandma Cindy,

(Happy Birthday, Mom!!)

loves his animals,

hates injustice,

thrives on fairness,

likes pop too much

and vegetables not enough.

You have stretched my patience,

and I've stretched yours.

We butt heads too often,

probably because we're both pretty stubborn.

You have helped me to learn patience

and perseverance.

Happy 13th Birthday!

I'm glad you're my son.