One day soon

I just gave Maddie her early morning feeding and after rocking her soft warm body on my shoulder to burp her, she fell asleep. Both of her arms spread out across my shoulders and her head nestled softly into my neck, and she was so peaceful that I found myself sad to lay her back down in her crib. I would have paid a lot of money to have been given the chance to keep holding her for hours, until she was ready to wake up for the day. Instead I swaddled her back up, laid her down, and rested my palms gently on her chest and shoulders, as I do each time I put her down, so that she settles calmly into sleep. I stood over her trying to memorize how little she still is. A minute later she smiled in her sleep and I know everything is right in her little world.

As I crept out of her room, I shot the pretty little clock on her wall a dirty look. I am cursing the clock these days.

I have an acute awareness of how bound by time I am, and I loathe it. I have a hard time living in each moment because of the reminder of when it's going to end, or what is coming next and how soon that will be. I know it's part of living and it's very necessary in order to function, but a part of me wants to pack my family up and run off to a country that lives more for the moment than for it's end and what's coming next.

I remember when I was on a missions trip in Panama City, Panama. We would say that the people there were on 'Panama time' whenever they were late, or something ran long, or if a service was supposed to start at 9am and at 9:05 (or even 9:30!) the room was still empty. They just didn't 'respect' time like we did. Or that's how I viewed it, since it was sort of putting me out. Certainly there were complications that arose from the different emphasis we all placed on our individual punctuality and approach to having things scheduled and sticking to a timeframe. But at this point in my life, more than ever, I can appreciate that way of life.

My husband's parents as well as his sister and her family just spent 4 days with us. They traveled from New Jersey and had to go home yesterday. The whole time they were here there was this countdown to their departure looming in my mind - a clock that was ticking, reminding me that the time was passing a lot faster than I wanted it to be.

And the more I loathe the heavy burden of time and its passage, the more I find myself dreaming about heaven to soothe the ache.

I wonder if part of heaven is never having to put your baby down when she falls asleep on your shoulder. Because that would be pretty close to paradise for me. Not placing her in her bed to sleep because you know you only have another hour to shower before the other children wake up and the day takes on a momentum of its own that very often careens out of your control, so you'd better be as ready as you can be before it starts! No more hurrying or rushing about.

I know that heaven promises endless amounts of time with not only the Lord, but with those we love who have also confessed Him as Lord, too. I'm really looking forward to the end of goodbyes and see-you-soons. To having as much time as we want, to sit around a table in paradise and just be together.

It's so hard to fathom what it will be like to 'live' forever without being bound by time. It's actually impossible because we are so finite. But for as much as I'm loathing this boundary on earth, I'm loving the moments I have to dwell on what it's going to be like to have that chain broken.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost but now am found,

Was blind, but now I see.

T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.

And Grace, my fears relieved.

How precious did that Grace appear

The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares

I have already come;

'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far

and Grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me.

His word my hope secures.

He will my shield and portion be,

As long as life endures.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,

And mortal life shall cease,

I shall possess within the veil,

A life of joy and peace.

When we've been here ten thousand years

Bright shining as the sun.

We've no less days to sing God's praise

Than when we've first begun.

The good kind of heartache

This might have to make its way to our walls.

Ellie was saying "I got you, Robbie."

{As in, if you fall, I will try to catch you even though you will squash me like an ant.}

Sorry for the retro-blogging, but this past Friday we went to the park and then played around inside before dinnertime, and something became very clear to me.

These two love and really enjoy one another.

I knew it would be worth it.

Somebody...

...got a haircut on Saturday.

Her first, to be exact.

(I'm not counting the slight trim I gave her around Christmas to even out the ends, or the two random curls that hung behind her ears as a baby that looked ridiculous.)

She loved it. I thought she would HATE it!

Mother's don't know everything. Either that, or suckers make everything bearable.

If I had the time, I'd get sentimental and weepy.

I'm just having so much fun with her, and am too proud of her to be sad as I watch her grow into her own little person. It's pretty amazing, and I am so blessed by Ellie and all the joy she brings to our family.

So, her first real haircut at exactly 2 years old.

How long do I have to wait to take her with me for a pedicure?!...

The best kind of chaos

I hope someone will share the pictures they took this afternoon with me, because I took exactly none and I desperately want to remember this day.

Rob's parents and his older sister Rachel and her family flew in from New Jersey this afternoon. They spent the afternoon and evening with us, and will be staying through Tuesday (at a hotel, boo for not having a guest room/rooms at our house!). The cousins haven't been together since Christmas, and it's just amazing how quickly kids change in 6 months when they are this young.

Robbie lost. his. mind. He was so excited to play with his older cousins Nicholas and James, and it's sweet to see how much he looks up to them. Within minutes he had gotten the full scoop on superheroes (N & J's current fascination) and was running around behind them declaring "I'm BATMAN! And James is CAPTAIN AMERICA!". Poor Nicholas was feeling a bit under the weather so he mainly snuggled up next to Grammy on the couch while the others ran circles around the house.

Ellie was thrilled with the influx of family and per usual, whenever we're around other children, she would pause in her play and look up at me as she exclaimed "KIDS!!". As in, "Hey mom? Why don't we do this more often? This is AWESOME, and I have social needs, you know." At one point she was just standing in the living room with everyone else, shrieking with happiness. It was hysterical. She and Katelin (who are the exact same age) are two pretty little peas in a pod. To say I am anxious to put them in their matching outfits this weekend is an understatement. They are both little sisters to older brothers, and although they can hang with the boys and are pretty tough, they both have sweet little feminine sides too.

We gave the kids a little snack to hold them over and then got busy fixing dinner. We grilled marinated chicken and had a big fruit salad, broiled asparagus, and baked potatoes with a side of citronella candles (the mosquitoes are awful right now!). At the end of dinner, which we ate on the deck, it started to sprinkle so we moved inside for a little birthday celebration in honor of both Grammy and Papa, and enjoyed chocolate cake and blueberry pie. The kids needed another reason to get hyper before bed.

This morning was full of anticipation for our guests to arrive, and this afternoon was the fulfillment of all Robbie and Ellie hoped the day would be. All 3 of our kids fell asleep almost immediately upon being placed in their beds, Maddie included.

Day 1, in the books. A very good day. :)

Fake It

It's transition time (again). Nothing stays the same for very long when you're having babies. The blessed signposts include the reappearance of pre-pregnancy clothes, the occasional need to set an alarm in order to take a shower because I'm not awake every 2 hours, a new haircut which indicates the ability to go and get said haircut and then actually style my hair on occasion, the ceremonial packing away of immediate post-partum supplies (I'll let you use your imagination on that one), going for a run the other night, and the inability to recall the last time I cried over something insignificant.

Lest you begin to think that it's all roses over here... I am losing my hair like crazy (typical at 3 months post-partum), cannot FATHOM putting on a bathing suit and venturing beyond our backyard this summer, have yet to figure out how and when to have a consistent quiet time with the Lord (I will not give up the fight), really want to make a meal for a few people in need and just can't wrap my mind around how I would actually accomplish it which makes me sad, and although I'm thrilled that Maddie is getting used to sleeping in her crib for naps and nighttime, I now feel guilty schlepping her around when I know she's in need of good rest, which means we stay home more often.

Things are shaking out, like you know they will eventually but some days you didn't really believe they ever would. I have the mental ability to dwell on the inconsequential and the trivial, which indicates to me that I'm moving beyond survival mode and into living mode. Hallelujah!

It might be the transition, or it might just be what happens as we continue to live and learn and grow, but I also find myself getting braver. Or maybe I have just lost all dignity. I'll let you decide.

Today I had to get groceries and paper products for the 4 day party we are about to have with my in-laws who will be visiting us. I took all 3 kids to Target, put them in 2 carts, and proceeded to push/pull the carts up and down every aisle (some twice, I always forget things). Several other mothers stopped me along the way to marvel at my ingenuity ("2 carts! I never thought of that!" - I call it desperation but I let them think I'm just smart). Two other older women assisted Ellie with something she'd dropped that I hadn't noticed since at the time she was the caboose cart of our crazy train. In the entire time we were shopping, I keep the kids munching on something, the baby sipped a bottle, and no one lost their mind, including me. It was glorious. Not even dropping 1 1/2 dozen eggs at checkout or changing 2 poopy diapers in the trunk of the van before heading home could get me down. (It sure beat our last trip, when I somehow managed to run over 2 of my favorite tubes of lipstick in the parking lot, all 3 kids screamed at checkout, I actually said to the check out woman "I might lose my mind today" without cracking a smile, and I forgot essential items on our list.)

I typically dread these trips, especially since today we needed a LOT of stuff. It's not a matter of IF, but WHEN the epic meltdown will begin and commence and WHO the participants will be. I think I figured out how to navigate these situations, which are not altogether life-altering or really all that significant, but still take up a disproportionate amount of our daily life as it is right now.

I fake it.

I pile the kids into the carts, thinking "I can do this", or refusing to think about it at all. And I just go. I put a smile on my face, I try to anticipate the needs my kids will have and do my best to be prepared to meet them, and then I get on with the task at hand. Sometimes things fall apart, but sometimes they don't. I've decided that I've wasted enough time worrying over things that may (or may not!) happen. Tantrums. Illness. Feeling alone. Public humiliation. Judgement. Injury... to name a few. The anxiety I create within myself actually wears me out before I even start. In truth, I actually possess the energy / ability / patience required to manage a 3 year old, 2 year old, and 3 month old, I just don't believe that I do most days. I forget my Source and neglect to walk in the Spirit, and on my own? I really can't do this very well, or at all. With Christ, I can.

I am still learning to believe in my heart that this is the case. And until I can say that confidently and on a daily basis, I'm moving forward in faith that He is going to meet me in my worst moments, no matter how trivial, and bear me up under the demands of the day. Whether it's in Target, or at home as I discipline, or at my sick child's bedside, I'm choosing courage. And I suppose you can't really call that faking it, because although I don't always feel courageous when I start out, I know that the Lord promises to always walk with me. I have never doubted that, I'm just activating this belief I have in Him in ways that are very real.

It's about time. Thank goodness for this new growth and transition into greater confidence as a momma!

For Rob...

Father's Day 2011 - a post for Rob

Although the day did not revolve around you (as I wish it could have), it was so typical of you to make it about everyone else around you. It's why I want to take a few more moments to celebrate you, in the dwindling hours of this Father's Day. The gifts over coffee and donuts this morning were fun but I want to honor you so much more than that.

You know what it means to be a father. At the very heart of it, it requires self sacrifice. A deeper love for your others than for yourself. A patience that rarely wears thin. The commitment to providing for your family, a responsibility you have never taken lightly. The abandonment of selfish pursuits and dreams in exchange for an investment in three (for now!) precious disciples we call our children and one woman you chose to be your wife (lucky gal).

You love your own Fathers. As I think about the kind of father you are today, I realize that it speaks volumes about who you know our Heavenly Father to be. It is also to your dad's credit that you are the father that you are! Your intimate relationship with God as well as your own dad have been influential and have shaped your character in profound ways. I couldn't be more thankful for that.

You are committed to growing in your role as a father. We always talk about what as parents we should be doing differently, examining closer, taking more seriously, letting go of, etc. You never sit back and think you've got it all figured out, but instead always look ahead to what's down the road, and how we should be preparing for that today. You never let up or take the easy way out. You are as disciplined and constant as men come.

This is your third Father's Day. God has blessed our family in the last 3 years, and you have made the only dream I've ever really had come true. This picture is proof.

I know as women we aren't supposed to say things like this, but I love this picture of myself. And it's certainly not because I look good without makeup on (I DON'T!), or because I can rock a tank top after giving birth (I CAN'T!). It's because I remember that in this moment, as I held our brand new daughter and gathered our kids in my little hospital bed with you by my side, my heart felt so full it could burst. I was in pain, was totally overwhelmed at the thought of taking Maddie home, and did not feel like myself physically or emotionally. But I knew that this was what I was made for, and that it was what God had designed for us, together. I was right where I have always wanted to be.

So happy father's day, to the father of my precious babies. Every day with you is a gift.

We are better versions of ourselves because of you.

We love you.

XOXO,

Ashley, Robbie, Ellie and Maddie

Our morning adventure (with adorable footwear)

One of Rob's coworkers (and his sweet family) gifted us these knit baby booties when Madeline was born. Her tiny feet finally have enough pudge to hold them on and they coordinated perfectly with this amazing (resale shop find!) dress.

When you dress your baby up, you need someplace to go. So we headed out to pay great grandma Jessie another visit!

She was tickled to see us again.

*Sidenote: I think Madeline is the first of my children to remind me of myself as a baby, but I'll have to confirm this with my mother.

Oh, did I forget to mention that I took all 3 kids? Well I did. And we stayed for an hour. And only one resident gave us a dirty look when one of my kids came too close to her, which I would count a successful trip! (To be fair, the kids were VERY well behaved and weren't loud or rowdy at all. Sometimes just proximity to little kids is overwhelming to the elderly, and I understand that. We didn't overstay our welcome.)

This sweet boy will love on his great grandma anytime I ask him to. Pose for a picture with Jessie?! Sure, and I'll even lean in and give you my best smile. Give her a hug and a kiss? You got it.

Be still my heart, that sweet hand on her front just kills me! Such a tender heart, my little guy.

(Ellie is practicing the Scotty McCreery hold on her juice cup. Also noteworthy - the people in the background were laughing at my attempts to get a group picture. I have no shame and was probably dancing or something.)

Maddie was a champ and hung out in Jessie's arms most of the time (even though I KNOW she wanted to be napping - good work, sweetie!). Ellie is just at that age where she's doing her own thing, and can't be coerced into hugs, kisses, or performances so she mainly crawled under the stroller and ate pieces of her donut holes that had fallen on the floor. I've learned to let her be. :) And Robbie was a sport, as well as very attentive to the other residents that gathered around us. At the end of our time there, a fluffy white puppy came wandering through the lounge and the kids always go bonkers when one of the dogs they keep there come out to play.

The low point was probably when Maddie started fussing, Ellie bolted for the front door, and Robbie had that look in his eye that said he was thinking about chasing the dog through the dining area. All at the same moment, of course. I'm learning to manage the dicier moments, and not let them intimidate me.

I think the key is to check my pride at the door, and just do my best to enjoy the good times and special moments that sandwich themselves between the awkward, embarrassing and difficult ones. And hope no one is photographing or videotaping me in the process!