Family

It's strange for me to think about the people that I call family. Of course, there is my dad, and my brother, and one step brother that I am still in contact with. As for the rest of those that I spent most of my childhood calling "family," well, I don't really know what they're up to. It's been 12 years since I have spoken to my step mom, and just as many, if not more, since I have spoken to her other two sons. I am not angry about this, I really think it was for the best. Part of me wishes I knew how they've ended up, though I know it's not really the end. I sincerely hope they're in better places in their lives, but I do not call these people family anymore. 

When I was just 14 years old, my then family had to move from our small three bedroom home. Time ran out for us to be gone, but we'd yet to find a place to live. My parents told us (my step brothers, myself, and my biological brother) that we needed to figure out where we were going to stay until they found some place. Thank God I was going to church. Thank God that one girl felt the need to speak to her parents about my situation. Thank God they were hospitable. Thank God, for them. 

It has been 14 years (literally half my life, haha!) since I started living with them. It was not permanent at first. I stayed with them for 10 days the first time. They must have sensed that I needed more, or they felt bad for me. My parents did find a place to live, but it was a two bedroom apartment in a shady part of town. Since there were more boys than girls, the boys got one bedroom, and my parents occupied the other. I was given two cubicle walls to block off the dining area as my "bedroom." When I look back at the 14 year old girl, I do feel bad for her. But I feel sort of disconnected from her, like she's not the younger version of me. Anyway, you can see why a family who had an available extra room, was willing to allow a girl who was sorely in need of a little privacy, stay at their house a couple days a week. 

In the interest of not writing a novel tonight, I will skip the details of how I became part of this new family. Suffice it to say, that we all bonded and now refer to each other as family. I have a new mom, and three sisters, plus their husbands and children. Like any family, there have been ups and downs, but always forgiveness, always love, and always Christ. We've gone through difficult things together and have shared joy in each others' joy. Even though I live in a different state than the rest of them, I know the bonds that God has allowed us to form, will not be broken. 

My mom and sister just drove through hell of Earth (almost literally) to come visit me for a few days. I was so blessed by them being here. They got to know my children a little bit more, be in my home, and see one of my favorite places, indeed, the only place near Tucson that makes it tolerable, Mt. Lemmon. The best part was how natural it was for them to be here. We immediately fell into our normal, comfortable, way of talking and just being with each other. How strange that this family I have had for just half of my life is so "normal" for me. Strange and yet, wonderful. Thank God that He allowed this to happen. 

My mom and sister left yesterday, and today I am definitely feeling the loss of not having them nearby. I am thankful that we are able to visit, but it just never feels like enough. Good gracious, do you hear what I am saying, people!?! I love my family, and today that seems to be rare. It's never my intent to brag about anything, but I feel it must be expressed how grateful I am for these people. I look forward to living out the rest of my life with the knowledge that God gifted me with an amazing psuedo-adoptive family. 

I love you!!!

My Greatest Responsibility

All of us adults have responsibilities, right? As a parent, we have many more added to the list. (In an effort to not write a novel, I won't list all the responsibilities that I can think of right now.) As a stay at home mom, my first and most important responsibility is raising my children. There is a whole subset of responsibilities that fall under the broader, "Raise My Kids" title. For me, I have rarely sat down to think about which ones I feel are most important. Surely, some of you do on a regular basis, think about which responsibilities are most important and deserve the most attention. Those of you who love lists and operate well from them, surely you have thought about the ultimate goal in raising your children. But I, who is very spontaneous, often forget how helpful lists can be. Maybe I should write one, or even make it an art piece somewhere in my home so that I see it every day and am reminded of my ultimate goal.

So, what is the ultimate goal? This might be, and probably is different for everyone. Certainly I have come up with different answers in the nearly five years since becoming a mama. There is one however, that I think trumps all the others. No matter who you are, this one thing should be the most important. And I know not everyone will agree with this because we're not all of the same creed. But this is what I believe. 

After absolutely sobbing my eyes out twice while perusing Facebook this afternoon, I have landed on the single most important thing I can teach my kids. Why was I crying? Well, I read a couple of different stories about children dying. One was a baby who struggled to live for several months, but finally lost the battle to survive. The other was a pair of teenage sisters who died suddenly in a car accident. Two very different stories, but every bit as heart-wrenching  and tragic. I cannot imagine losing one of my children. I just absolutely can not fathom the heart ache. The anguish. The hopelessness. How does one move on from that? I have friends who have lost a child, and I honestly don't know what to say about that. Except that I know where that child is, and that truth alone, offers a glimmer of joy and peace. This brings me to the most important goal I have in raising my children. Because after every other goal is met and accomplished (I hope!) or even if I've failed in some areas, there is one that stands above them all.  Some responsibilities that are fully met, may be helpful for the duration of the lives of my children while they're here on Earth. But There is one, that if met, will be helpful for the rest of eternity. 

If I fail at everything else as a mother, I pray to God that my children will find, and know Jesus. That their faith would be pure and whole and true. That beyond any shadow of a doubt, they (and I) would know that there is a place reserved for them up in God's Holy Kingdom once their time on Earth is done. 

The truth is, God could call His children home at any time. We may have a time to grieve with our child, as in the case of the wee babe, or it may be sudden, like the sisters. Either way, we're not in control of that. Really, we're not in control of their salvation either. Certainly God has not laid the responsibility squarely on the shoulders of parents, but God does call us to teach our children about Him, and to raise them to know Him. 

There is an abundance of debate on the age at which children are held responsible for their sins. Well, I don't really care to debate that. It's not my point. My point is, I need to make sure I am teaching my children about Jesus. This includes reading the Bible with them, praying with them, teaching them specific stories and lessons from God's word. Most importantly, I think, it includes showing them what it means to live in and for Christ. Talk about a huge responsibility. It begs the question, am I living fully in Christ? If not, I better start. 

Heavenly Father, thank you for the wonderful blessings of my dear wee babes. You know my heart and  you know how much love it contains for these little ones. Lord, I know that ultimately, they are yours. I know that they are simply "on loan" to me, and will be used for your greater purpose here on Earth. I ask, God, that you would fill my cup with your love, kindness, goodness, gentleness, patience, peace, joy, self-control and hope. Fill it up, Lord, until it overflows onto my children. I pray that through me, and others, they would see you glorious love and grace, and that they would yearn to know you. Soften their hearts towards your truth. May I be a guide for them when they're young, to see what you are like. And when they get older, please God, may they seek You personally. I don't know how much longer I have with them, but please help me to remember my promise to teach them who You are. I pray for all of these things for Your glory, and in Jesus' name. Amen.

PS - If you're reading this, and you don't have faith in Jesus, that's okay. Out of love, I pray that you do find Him. But if you're not there yet, I hope that you at least see the love I have for my children. 

People are People

I've been thinking about this post for a while, but I was worried that some people will be offended. Then I decided, it was worth it. This blog is a way for me to put my thoughts down in writing, and thus get them off my chest. Writing things down has a way of helping me feel more peaceful about things, and it helps me to stop thinking about it all the time. Personally, I don't think there is anything too offensive about what I have been thinking, but you never know. No offense is intended, so hopefully it won't come to that.

Maybe this is something that "grown-ups" already know, but I have only recently come to this realization. People are people no matter where they are. We are fallible, we make mistakes, we have strange personalities, and we need Jesus.

When I was serving active duty in the Air Force, I recognized that many civilians expected much more of me when I was in uniform. (To be fair, the AF also expects a certain standard of conduct when one is in uniform.) But at the end of the day, when the uniform comes off, we are all just regular people. Some service members  don't see it that way, but I will tell you, most of the ones I worked with DO. If we held ourselves to a certain standard while in uniform, half the stuff I witnessed (and participated in) would not have happened. It wouldn't have even been a thought. I am not trying to "reveal" anything about the true military life, I am just trying to say, we're not some special breed of human that somehow is above reproach. We were regular people before the military trained us. And while we are (mostly) highly skilled in our job set, we are still just people.

The same goes for all of those that we hold in a higher esteem. Church staff and evangelists, teachers, politicians (HA!), celebrities (including famous athletes), law enforcement, even our parents are just people.

So why do we expect more of these individuals? Because they're people that we're supposed to be able to look up to, maybe? These are people that we can strive to become when we're little. They hold respectable positions in society, doing respectable things. And our faith in humanity is crushed when we're let down by one of these people.

The recent death due to drug overdose of a beloved actor throws us for a loop. The infidelity of a respected church member can have us accusing the entire Church of being hypocritical. The rape of a service member by another service member has us calling for more protective laws and discipline of the military. We wonder how something like this could happen, not realizing that no matter who you are, there are temptations and struggles. Even with a strong support system, the temptation can be too great to defeat.

The truth is, as long as we're putting our faith in humanity, our trust in society, we're going to be let down. Certainly we should still hold people to a standard, but we need to recognize that people are just people no matter where they are. And people have a tendency toward sin. I know that I have a tendency toward sin. There are things that I have done that I am not proud of, and even ashamed of. I've let myself down!

The good news is that there is another place in which to put our trust, a better place. Maybe I should say person. God is always faithful, always true, always just, always loving. He is the one in which we should always look to in order to restore our joy and our hope. We may not always understand why things happen, and God doesn't always give us an answer right away. But we can trust that He loves us and orchestrates life to work out for the best for those who love Him. God's promises are great, and He is faithful to fulfill them, no matter who has let us down and no matter how many times we let Him down. He alone is to be highly esteemed, and He won't disappoint.

This post is not in any way meant to demean people or make us feel badly about ourselves. It's simply a wordy expression of my experience in learning to put all of my trust in Jesus, and not to fret too much when I or others falter. I love people and there are certainly those whom I respect. I do believe that if you know someone who is in a bad way, God calls us to help in any way that we can. It may hurt, and it may be difficult, but Jesus is our strength. He will fill us all the way up, until we're overflowing with His love. At that point, we are able to love more deeply and more purely, even when it's hard. When we allow Christ to dwell within us, we are better equipped to handle the tragedies that a sinful world must face.

House to Home

We are so blessed to be living in a house that we, for all intents and purposes, own. It's been a long, long journey that I will gladly tell about in another post. For now, I am going to share my struggle to keep perspective. After all, I did claim that this blog was about my struggles and occasional victories in the minutia of life.

We've been living here now for eight months. There is this part of me that wants the house to be perfectly decorated, where everything has it's place, and looks "just so." This part of me is constantly clawing to take over every other part of my thinking in regards to the house. The house is great, but wouldn't it be better if... If we had a mantle over the fireplace, if Audrey's room was decorated the way I want it, if all the walls were painted like an interior decorator was hired, if there was a blooming garden in the front and back, if the backyard had a retention wall, and for that matter, a full size cinder block wall to keep the desert out, if the pack rat in the shed was gone, if the cabinets in the kitchen were redone, and we added a bank of cabinets, etc., etc., etc.

There are several reasons why all of this and more cannot be accomplished. Probably the reason why none of this has been done despite everything else is that, it takes a lot of money to do all these things. Some of the projects are fairly cheap, others are a pretty penny, overall, it's a small fortune. But there's also the factor of time. It takes a long time to build up a garden. It takes time to accomplish DIY kitchen and home projects. And it certainly takes time to build a 40 foot long, 6 foot high cinder block wall. It also takes a certain amount of knowledge. I should know the best way to sand and then either paint or stain the kitchen cabinets. I wouldn't even know where to begin to build another bank of cabinets and possibly a "work space." I should know exactly which colors I should paint individual walls and rooms as a whole.

Blah, blah, blah. I could go on about all of these things, and most of you would probably understand how I am feeling. Right now, life does not feel "settled" like I think it should. I have a blue wall in my living room, but no art hanging on the wall. If perhaps I had something hanging there, then I would feel like that room (or area of the room) was finished, or settled. But as it stands, almost every time I look at that wall, I feel stressed out that it is left undone, incomplete, and needing attention. I long for that time in my life, and in this house, when I feel settled, and comfortable with how things look and how they're organized. I long to not have the next project, especially the ones that I know we have to save for, hanging over my head. But what's the real problem here? It's not that my house is not in an "orderly" fashion. It's not that the house needs actual improvements (like the retaining wall to keep the backyard from eroding entirely away.) It's not that when I look at other people's home that are finished, I feel a sense of inadequacy. The problem is my heart.

Where is my heart in all of this? I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting to take care of my home, and taking pleasure in making things beautiful (painting, art, etc.). What I think is wrong is that I spend SO MUCH TIME thinking on these things. What if I have all these things done so that my house is exactly how I want it, but I do not have love? The Bible says I have nothing, if that is the case. Really, what good is it to have a beautiful home if I don't use it for the Glory of God?  If I have a beautifully decorated home, but my relationship with my family is ugly, what then?

My point is, it shouldn't matter that my home is in a perpetual state of improvement.

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." 

This verse isn't talking about the physical accomplishments of man. God is not necessarily concerned with who can make things the best of everyone else. He wants us to embody an attitude like this verse. We aren't supposed to bother our minds and our hearts with whether our homes are settled. We are to think on the blessings, on the good things that we see in people, on the abundant examples of God's grace in our lives, and around the world. When we retrain our minds to think on the positive that God provides, then all of the little things that once bothered us suddenly seem so insignificant. And when we retrain our minds to think on those things, it becomes of utmost importance to us to act on them. And that's when we are acting in God's will most effectively.

It's not always easy because the devil likes to strike us where we're already weak. He knows that I struggle with worrying about how my house looks, and he lies to me and tells me that I am right to worry about it. ("You can't possibly invite people over when your house looks like that, Tammera.") God says otherwise though. We know that God provides for all of our needs, and he certainly has! I don't need my house to look like it was designed by an interior decorator in order to minister to my family and friends. We have food, water, clothing, and shelter, and I am still breathing. That's pretty much what we need to make an impact for God's Kingdom. 

Instead of being stressed out by what is not finished, I will strive to set my mind on Christ and on things that are true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent and worthy of praise. I think in doing so, I will find much more rest and peace in my mind and heart. My perspective, I am confident, will shift from a worldly point of view, to a Kingdom point of view. 

PS - Every time I set out to write a post, I think, "this one won't be very long." Then I end up writing a wee novella. I apologize for my long-winded tendencies. 

What My Kids Are Teaching Me

Growing up there were so many things that I thought I would certainly be teaching to my children. I started babysitting when I was 11 years old, and continued until I was probably 21 or so. From those experiences, I thought I had a pretty good handle on how to teach stuff to kids. All those important life lessons like, how to share, how to be kind, staying calm when you are upset by something, that eating your vegetables is good for you, too much sugar is bad for you, etc, etc. With all this experience that I had, I was sure to be a fantastic mother one day. And I was told so by many people actually, that I was going to be great at it. Well, actual motherhood was a rude awakening.

It is one thing to teach a couple of kids who have been fed, and been taken care of by their parents until I showed up, how to share. It's an entirely new animal when I am the parent that is feeding and taking care of the kids all.day.long. What I didn't know as a teenager is that there must have been a lot of effort put in by those parents to teach their child all the blessed lessons of life during those hours before I arrived to handle things. What I did was simply remind them that those lessons were supposed to be called upon in every situation, and all day long, to know how to behave well. The only thing that I perhaps taught those kids is that the lessons their parents taught them, apply to every person and in every scenario. As someone who ultimately had very little authority, I think it was helpful for the children to see that what they were being taught at home wasn't just some whack idea that only their parents adhered to. That actually, these lessons were part of learning to function well in our society. But that's not what this post is about, really.

What I meant to say was that when I became a mother, and for about 18 months after said event, I thought I was going to have an easy time of it. How hard is it, really, to play with a baby, feed her, change her diaper, bathe her, read her a book, and put her to bed with a kiss, "goodnight?" Don't get me wrong, I know that motherhood is physically demanding from the start. You never get to sleep the way you used to. Every task, no matter how minuscule and insignificant, takes at least twice as long. Privacy no longer has meaning in your life. And every aspect of life that used to revolve around oneself, now revolves around a nonverbal human being demanding everything from you with a reach of her hand, and perhaps a grunt, whimper, or a full on scream. Still, even with that brief insight into early motherhood, let me say that once you have to be mentally active in teaching a child, it becomes quite a bit more difficult. It did for me at least. Maybe some of you are just natural at all these things, but as a lot of these lessons revolve around the embodiment of the fruits of the Spirit, I will venture to guess that we all have a lot to (re)learn when teaching our children.

Here's what I mean, and here's what I've become aware of (again) about teaching my children. When I tell Audrey that she needs to chill out because Asher didn't mean to knock over her tower of blocks, I must provide the example. The harsh (and maybe too honest) truth is, she probably learned to have that reaction from....ME! Holy crap, what am I teaching my children? I know she didn't get it from my husband because he doesn't ever get angry about anything, not kidding. The man is incredibly level headed. It is already difficult enough to teach my children using my words. How much more difficult will it be to teach my children if my actions consistently contradict what I am teaching them? I wish that old adage, "Do as I say, not as I do," had more weight in reality. We laugh at it, but I wish I could say that, instead of having to learn these difficult lessons right along with them.

What I hope they see in my flaws, is that we all need the redemption of our Heavenly Father. We will all struggle throughout ours lives, maybe not with the same issues, but with something. But through those struggles, we are supposed to turn to Christ, seek His wisdom, and his forgiveness. After we've done that, we are to strive to become more Christ-like. We don't just give up trying to be better at life, we keep on the good fight, we run the race, and we keep our eyes on the Kingdom of God.

Favorites

It's a long held truth that parents shall never admit to having a favorite child. It doesn't matter how well you do or do not get along with any of your children, you love them all equally, all the time and there is no arguing with that. Well, I am here to tell you, that is not always the case. That's right, I have a favorite child. Now, the fact that I have a favorite will never purposefully be shown to any of my kids. The goal is that they never suspect that they are not the favorite and that the other one is. 

Alright, before everyone gets all worked up, let me explain. I do have a favorite child, and it cycles through each them throughout the day. The fact is, sometimes they're all my favorite right at the same time, and I am overwhelmed with love for them and thankfulness to God for trusting me with such wonderful blessings. 

Here's what I mean. When Audrey surprises me with her wit, and then turns around and is goofy like I remember myself being at her age, that's when she's my favorite. Or when she tries to use grown-up phrases but doesn't quite get the semantics. Also, I love when she asks to sing my "local (vocal) exercise songs" and then tries to sing along, but is off-key ninety per cent of the time. Sometimes she calls to me from whatever she's doing, "Mama. I love you." She melts my heart. She gets excited about absolutely everything (not exaggerating) and her eyes light up in the most beautiful way. Oh, that girl, she is definitely my favorite.

Using her homemade telescope!

Then sometimes Asher is my favorite. This kid LOVES music, and he's little. Little things are always cute, right? Asher can be right in the middle of the most epic fit, but if I put on the soundtrack to, "The Polar Express," he immediately gets up off the floor (onto which he gingerly laid himself so as not to hurt himself on the tile whilst throwing said fit), and starts jamming to the tunes. He is also a very sweet boy. He will be loyal to his family until death, I am sure of it. He copies everything big sister does, sometimes to his detriment. But he also does things for his little brother that are not asked for. Like he will bring Callan a toy if he notices that one is not within Callan's reach already. He will even bring Callan a blanket because obviously, everyone loves his/her blanket as much as Asher loves his. Haha! The only time Asher is not sweet in fact, is when it comes to his blanket. Nobody is allowed to snuggle it but him. Not mama, not daddy, not Audrey and especially not Callan. Still, my heart swells and I laugh when I hear him say, "No, Nannan." (No, Callan.) That settles it, Asher is my favorite child.

Except there's Callan, too. Oh, the sweet Squishy snuggles of an almost 7 month old baby. He is the most laid back baby ever. He rarely fusses and when he does, you always know why (hungry, tired, poopy). He's happy to snuggle, but he's great at playing on his own. He finds his older siblings endlessly entertaining, and for that matter, he thinks I am funny, too. (He's right, I am hilarious. ;) ) He is SO strong. He is army crawling all over the place, and he is so curious about everything. He has been the poster child for being "on track" developmentally. He makes it easy to be a mother of three. The best thing about Callan though, is when he wakes up in the early morning (around four or five) and nurses with me. Then he falls back asleep, and cuddles me until he wakes up for the day. Oh, how I will miss those sweet snuggles when he outgrows babyhood. This baby is for sure my most favorite. 

Do you see why I call him, "Squishy?"

So, there you have it. They are all my most favorite children ever. I truly am a blessed mama, and I really do thank God for the time I am allowed to spend with them. They enrich my lives with so much awesomeness, I pray that I leave a mark in their hearts that is worthy of our Lord's love for us.

Breastfeeding

Every new mom hates the engorgement phase of breastfeeding. You know, when your milk has come in right after giving birth. You're sitting there for the first day or two thinking, "This is so sweet, breastfeeding my baby. I am providing life-giving nutrients. It's truly miraculous." And then, your milk comes in.Your boobies flip out because they have no idea how much milk your adorable gift from heaven may need, so they just go crazy and produce WAY too much. Thus, for several weeks, new mama's boobs are like giant, milk-filled balloons. This is not a pleasant experience, oh no, it's awful. Despite the pleasure some dudes get out of thinking of giant tatas, they are strictly off-limits, so you better just turn off the light, and go to sleep. I knew one mama whose father came to visit after she gave birth to one of her sons. She had been an "A" cup and her breasts inflated to a "D" cup within a couple of days. Her breasts were so painful that she told her dad that she was not going to wear a shirt or anything because it was excruciating to have anything touch them. That's right, people, she walked around bare-boobed in front of her father just to spare herself the pain. And you now what? I can't blame her. Those babies HURT when they're full of milk. They get hard, like cut-through-diamond hard. And they get lumpy. Tell me the last time you thought of sexy as being a lumpy breast? Never....that's when. They get red! Yes, like an inflamed wound, they get red and hot to the touch. I am surprised my children did not get third degree burns on their wee cheeks for the heat my boobs were putting off. Maybe I could have cooked dinner off of those knockers if anything was allowed to touch them. Then there's the buying nursing bras thing. Good gracious, who knew bras came in that size, eh? "There's no way my little boobs could ever fit a bra like that." So you take the bra that looks like it will fit, try to keep the breast pads on so you don't christen the dressing room with "Essence of Milk," and try to put the bra in place. Great, you got about half the boob covered. That's when you realize, those gigantic bras that your tiny boobs could never fit in, yeah those bras were made for you. And, do you want to know the best part? The best part is, if you take your bra off to say, step in the shower, the sheer weight of them without support causes them to leak like a firehose. Oh, I am not kidding. If my boobs had been in a pissing contest, they would have won, hands down. Don't try sleeping without a bra either. Unless you want to wake up in a puddle of fresh squeezed mama's milk in the morning, you better keep those puppies under wraps and have a spare towel to absorb the mess.

Finally, you decide you can't handle the new growth where your regular boobs once were, so you express some milk to try to relieve the aching, milk making factory that are your boobs. The problem with that is, then your fantastic, life-giving tatas, think, "Oh, the baby needs more milk since it just ate some. Let's make some more so that this baby will never go hungry!" And there they go. They're off to make more milk for your precious little angel. Thus, the cycle continues until your body finally stops this nonsense, and your supply evens out. Sure, your baby may still choke upon "let-down," but that's to be expected for at least another couple of months. The point is, they are once again manageable, and you've stopped knocking everything off the shelves at target with your set of Dolly Partons.

And that's just the normal part of breastfeeding. It could take days and numerous posts to talk about all the complications that can arise.

If you haven't inferred this by now, I am not necessarily attached to breastfeeding. Some moms love the act of being the sole supplier of nutrients, and in essence, life, to their baby. While I appreciate all that breastfeeding is, I generally do not find it fun or awe inspiring. I breastfeed my babies  because I recognize the benefits for it, and, well to be honest, it's room service free of charge. But I have learned something new about myself and breastfeeding in the last couple of weeks.

My six month old baby was not gaining weight as quickly as I thought he should. His older brother did the same thing, and despite numerous discussions with his pediatrician about this, she did not seem concerned until he was finally off the charts. With that in mind, I worried that my new baby was going to do the same thing, and there was no way I was going to let that happen. So, I began to supplement his breastfeeding with formula, since I know that is what other pediatricians have prescribed to other babies for the same issue. It began slowly, with only 4 ounces of formula a day, and with always nursing my baby before giving him formula.

Somehow, it got away from me though. One week I noticed that I was slowly dropping in supply, so I did a couple of days of power pumping. Thankfully it helped. I also began eating oatmeal every morning for breakfast, which despite other mama's assurances of increasing supply, did not make a drop of difference. So, I just kept up the pumping.

I don't know how it happened. If I thought really hard, I could probably figure it out, but for now, I cannot think what went wrong. Sometime last week, I started going dry again. I ate oatmeal, I did some casual pumping, but alas, I dried up. Let me tell you, coming from the perspective of not really enjoying breastfeeding, and the whole aforementioned beginning phase, this was heart-wrenching. There is nothing like being UNABLE to provide for your child the way you once did. Not doing it by choice is one thing, but not doing it because you physically can't, that's hard. It's as if your own body is saying you're not good enough. Ouch! Well, boobs, you're not good enough for me, and if you don't get your act together, you will be dealt with. I decided to go on the defensive and conjur up some low supply remedies.

Now, most women would take these one at a time to see which one works best. Not me....Oh no. I am taking all it, full force! The peanut butter oat bites also have brewer's yeast, and flaxseed. I hope they're good.

So, this is my arsenal of hope. Hope that I can once again provide that special tincture concocted just for my baby. Did you know that breastmilk will produce antibodies to germs that your baby contracts before they show signs of the illness that those germs create! What an amazing feature. What other liquid on Earth is so advanced? It provides the exact nutrients that your baby needs depending on the age of the baby. Yes, it changes not just from week to week, but it can change from feeding to feeding. It is always being produced (though production can drop, obviously), and as long as there is demand, there will be supply. 

Speaking of demand, the baby is calling me! 

Home Improvement

"Home-ownership is not for sissies." This is the title of a facebook photo album from one of my friends. If there's one thing I have learned in the past seven months, it's that she's RIGHT! But as Dave Ramsey says, "If you have money, owning a home is a blessing." I have also learned (as I anticipated) that it is so freeing to own my home. While we do have money in savings, we are making small improvements along the way and saving the rest of the money for actual emergencies. You never know when something will hit, so it's best to be prepared. With that said, I would like to show a few photos of what we've been able to do with our new home. A lot of what we've done has more to do with proper furniture, than with actually "fixing" the house, but it has made a difference to us. So here it is!  

I wish I had a before picture of this, and I probably do have one somewhere. But suffice it to say that the new tv stand and blue color have made this space look WAY better. 

The magic couch!

It's a couch, bed and storage all in one!

My favorite room in the house. It's a place for the kids on this side...

....and a place for business, crafting (please forgive the curtains in progress there on the ironing board and rocking chair) and entertainment on the other side. I love that the kids are not banished to their rooms to play with their toys. And, this room leads to the backyard where our small pool and sand box await their pleasure.

Speaking of the backyard, this may be the only actual fix on the house. The added on space did not have weep screed, so, we are making sure things get done correctly!

The boys' bunk beds! Callan isn't in there yet, but Asher was ready for a big boy bed, so we saved the step of getting a twin, and went straight for the fun bunks! The color is a stain from ikea that we LOVE!

Audrey's dresser. Can it get any pinker? She does not get to choose wall colors, so I thought I would let her choose the color of her furniture. She loves it, and that makes me happy, but gosh darn, it is SO PINK! Haha! The boys have the same dresser but we also stained that green to match their bed.

We needed a place other than the refrigerator to hang the kids' art and future schooling achievements. This is an empty, and oddly placed wall in our kitchen; the perfect place for such a need! Some sort of fun, childish sign would go well above it, but I just hung it yesterday, so, it shall wait. :) 

There is still a lot to be done, but like I said, we're taking it slowly. As time, inspiration and money dictate, our house will continue to transform into our home. I look forward to making it ours, right down to the little details.

Crazy Busy

This is the second week in a row that we have not made any progress towards homeschooling other than when opportunity presents itself. We did manage to set the kids up with a summer reading program at the library. Both Audrey and Asher LOVE the library, though Asher has a difficult time with the "quiet" aspect, haha. Once the program is completed, the kids will get a free ticket to a water park in town, which will definitely be on the list of summer highlights.
As for what has been keeping us busy, last week I was planning a friend's baby shower (she's have twin girls!) And this week has been fraught with home projects, day trips, and vehicle mishaps. Nonetheless, I have some fun family pictures to share.
My favorite day this past week was when we went up the nearby mountains. From our front door to the top of the mountain was only an hour drive. Eli and I kept asking ourselves why we don't take advantage of going up the mountain more often. Here in the Valley of Tucson, it's been triple digits every single day since June first. On top of the mountain, the weather is cooler, and shaded! There are trees up there! So, on a whim, we packed up the kids and drove to a veritable paradise. It was SO worth it. Asher, though small and mostly unable to keep up, loved the hike. I could tell that he loved it because he talked the whole time. Nobody understood what he was saying, but it was definitely joyful chatter. Audrey did a great job holding daddy's hand for support, but she is sure-footed and did not complain once. She was wonderful with
warning Asher and me about things to watch out for on the trail (she and Eli were quite a bit in front of slow-moving Asher and I). After the hike, we went to the cookie cabin in the nearby town, Summerhaven. They make plate-sized cookies and put ice cream on top should you desire that much sugar! Audrey and I shared the chocolate chip and Asher and Eli shared the peanut butter. Next time, we'll just get one cookie since two was way more than we could eat. I still have left-overs in my refrigerator. So, here a few pictures from that day.

There were several fallen trees, but this one was right on the path. So Audrey, Callan and Eli posed for a photo opp! 

Audrey actually found this treasure, but she let Asher carry it during the entire hike, along with her treasure bag (purse). 

This is where the hike ended for us as we were trying to get back to the cookie cabin before it closed at five. I grabbed a few branches to set up the timer on the camera. The running back and forth between the camera, uphill to the rock was a workout. It took probably ten tries to make sure we got a decent picture.

The other big thing this week was Callan's six month birthday! This baby boy is rocking my world and I am astounded at how a mother's love can just grow and grow with each new child. 

He's pretty much the happiest baby ever!

Love that squishy little body and he loves this toy! 

Sum It Up Saturday!

Here's to another week of homeschooling! Well, sort of. I don't know if "Around the World in 60 Days" really counts as homeschooling since the lessons are SO short, but we try to make the most of them. This week was spent in the "Down Under!" The first country we visited was New Zealand where we learned that the sheep population outnumbers the people population by six to one! That's a lot of sheep. The accompanying Bible passage was the one that talks about the shepherd leaving his herd to look for his one lost sheep. So, we pretended we were all shepherds and looked for our lost sheep that daddy hid in the back yard.

Here is Asher diligently searching for the lost sheep! 

Sheep like greenery, which is hard to find in our dirt pile.

Maybe it likes to burrow in the dirt. Better dig! (Don't ask me why my sweet daughter is wearing the warmest possible outfit in triple digit weather. She was born in the desert, maybe it's in her blood.)

Around the corner?

Still searching! 

Aha! After several minutes of searching, and a few hints from mama, our lost sheep was found! 

Can you find New Zealand? I love seeing Eli so involved in what the kids are learning. He's truly a natural teacher.

We also looked at Australia and Papua New Guinea and had equally fun times learning about those countries.

While doing some research, we discovered that the homeschooling program that we're looking into strongly recommends that parents wait for children to be six years old before starting homeschooling, even if they are advanced. Let me tell you, Audrey is incredibly advanced in reading. She rarely needs help sounding out words and can read chapter books on her own. Since this program focuses on reading a lot once you get started, we decided to take their advice and continue what we're doing for the reading part. Besides, there are other areas that we can work on while we wait to start the actual program.

As evidenced by last week's post, Audrey needs help with hand writing. So I found a book at target with those writing guidelines so she could practice. This one also had indented letters which makes it easier to keep her marker on the right path to form a letter. She has only done six letters, but they are LEGIBLE which is very exciting for everyone. Our goal is to finish at least one page by the end of next week, and I will post a picture of her work.

Check out Jenny's blog for the original Sum it up Saturday posts, and feel free to provide input and guidance on my blog!

Sum it up Sssss-Unday

My intention was to join my sister Jenny, in blogging about our home school week on Saturday, which she calls, "Sum it up Saturday." Well, yesterday got away from me, so here I am today with a short blog about our minor dabble in home school this week. Eli and I are researching options and discussing how to go about home schooling. We're positive that we do want to keep the kids home and teach them ourselves, but we don't have a clear path yet. So for now, to keep our very intelligent daughter's mind active, we just do little activities as opportunity arises. 

Audrey really wanted to do some math with the abacus. After a while of just speaking some simple equations for her to figure out, I decided to give her a worksheet. It worked out better than I hoped since when it was done, she was ready for another activity, and had a sense of accomplishment. I think she thrives off of the completion of a task. I decided to keep all the equations working with the number nine. She then chose random numbers to add and subtract, and I wrote them out for her. 

Here she is writing down one of her answers. I love the look on her face. 

Asher and I watched with enthusiasm as Audrey worked out problem after problem. 

The hands-on work with the abacus is great, I think. I'm not an educated teacher, but I am pretty sure hands-on is the way to go, at least for this very busy child. 

Audrey proudly displaying her work. Okay, so her writing needs a little help, but she's only four. There will be time for that, and she got every answer correct.

The other thing we are starting today (which was also supposed to have been done yesterday) is a program called "Around the World in  60 Days." It includes the study of different countries around the world, and how we can pray for them, even though we're so far away. I hope this spikes our determination to teach our kids at home and helps us learn a bit more about what works and what does not work for Audrey. Although, each "lesson" is pretty short, so I don't know how much we'll learn from it about teaching. At the very least, it will be a fun activity, and will lead to more investigation about these different countries. 

The Fruits of the Spirit and the War Within

My parents' main form of discipline for me when I was a child, was a mixture of yelling, name calling (mostly "stupid") and disappointed looks, sighs and grunts. It has become clear to me that it is so true what they say about how a child learns. A child learns by watching the behavior of the people they spend the most time with. Like it or not, I learned how to treat young children, from my my parents, even though I hated how I was treated. To this day, I hate to be yelled at, and I hate using the word stupid. It is one of the non-curse words that my kids are not allowed to say in any context (not even when referring to an inanimate object like a rock.)
Despite my dislike for how I was disciplined as a child, that is what I learned. It is ingrained in me, and what I know. It's how I naturally operate as a parent, and I hate myself for it. It's like I can see the damage occurring to my children as it happens, but I am powerless to stop it. Now, please don't think that I just absolutely fly off the handle and scream at them until my voice is hoarse. What happens is, I raise my voice to tell them something. My yelling doesn't last long, usually just a sentence or two, but it is wholly unnecessary and way too frequent. I don't want my children to talk about how their mother yelled a lot. "She was really loving," I can hear them saying sometime in the future, "but she yelled a lot for things that were not a big deal." Don't my children deserve to have the best parent possible? Yes! The thing is, it's in my heart to treat them more kindly and with more fairness, (they are kids after all), but something in me, the side of me that is naturally drawn to sin and evil, just keeps flaring up when my kids show their imperfections. I know God wants what is best for us, and I was losing the battle to do right over wrong. I needed to change something.
I had begun getting up before the kids, or at least trying to. Sometimes they get up at an ungodly hour, and there is no hope of recovering my morning. On the days that my plan works though, I am able to get up, and do some Bible study while having a cup of decaffeinated coffee. (I look forward to have caffeine again some day, but the wee one is very sensitive to it in the breast milk, so for now, it's decaf. Somehow, it's still comforting and helpful.) For a long time, doing just that was enough to help keep myself even tempered and prepared to face the battle within. I noticed myself yelling less at my children, even though the urge was still there. I was able to keep it together just enough to not yell for the moment. But as of late, I've needed more than that. For years I have asked God to help me be a better parent. With the recognition that God gave me these children, I would plead that I showed them who Jesus is, and be loving like Jesus. The problem is, I am  already loving. As a "feeler" by nature, loving my children was never the issue. As intense as the yelling can seem, I love my children even more fiercely and they can tell. I needed help. I needed a new prayer.
This is one the things that I will remember as God working in my life, without my knowledge, just to bless me. I think the Holy Spirit went to God on my behalf and spoke about my need for change. The reason I say this is because, I did not think of praying for the fruits of the Spirit on my own. It just came to me, and I am so thankful that it did.
I began to pray fervently for the fruits of the Spirit. Not just in general, "Lord, fill me with your Spirit." No, I prayed specifically for gentleness, kindness, patience and self-control. On the very first day of this prayer, I saw God working in me! (I don't know why I still get surprised when I see God doing work in me.) The yelling ceased almost completely. The exasperated eye roll and heavy sigh, a usually hourly (at least) occurrence was gone. The bad attitude that was my constant companion, was replaced with gentleness, kindness, patience and self-control. Instead of yelling, "What did I just say?" in answer to a question that was just asked, I would respond with, "I've already answered that question." There are many examples that I could give to demonstrate the turn-around, but suffice it to say that I was astonished and so thankful for the gift that was clearly given from God. I continued to pray throughout that day and the next. But over the next several days, it slipped my mind to pray specifically for those things. The results were not good, and that is why I call it a battle, a war.
On one side is myself, and the devil whispering to me, "you're a great mom. You're not as bad some parents are, that's for sure." Trying to convince me that asking God for help is not necessary and a waste of time. Isn't that just like the devil. He speaks to us where he knows we can easily falter. Since I want to be the best mom I can for these amazing children, he lies to me and tells me I am, when clearly, I need some work. On the other side, is God. He desires to fill me with His Spirit, and He has given me a way to have that. But I must first deny myself. I deny that I am a "good enough" mom and especially that I am a "great" mom. I deny that I can do this by myself, that it is in my nature to be awesome. Instead, I seek God's strength, perfected in me. I ask for His Spirit where I am weak.
My prayer alongside of this transformation is that it's not too late. My oldest child is only four years old, maybe she won't remember much about the yelling. Maybe she will only see God working in me, and my dedication to asking for that help and remember it when she is tempted to treat her children unkindly. Maybe she and my boys will know that I must have struggled, but will praise Jesus' name that He is faithful to do good works in us, for those who love Him. I pray that my children will see Jesus more clearly, and will learn to earnestly seek Him in all their endeavors. I pray the my children learn from my behavior as a daughter of Christ, and not from behavior as a sinner.

You Can Just Call Me "Audg"

My daughter is amazing. She definitely was not planned by me, but God allowed me to be blessed through her birth and life. Her name is Audrey and she is incredibly smart. At four and half years old, she is reading books by herself. She doesn't always get every word correct, but she is easy to teach and she learns quickly when corrected. One of her brothers' name is Asher, whom we sometimes call "Dash" for short. Audrey doesn't really have a nickname, but one day she told us we could just call her "Audg," which of course we find adorable.

Audrey at about 18 months. I call this her "Vogue Pose" though she didn't really try to pose for the picture.

Second birthday party in her (okay, my) favorite green eyelet dress from Aunt Miss.

Dancing at a friend's wedding.

Christmas 2012, hanging the new ornament from Grammy.

This girl is always happy! She wakes up in the best of moods and I often have to catch up to her energy. She truly treats every single day with a new joy. It's like nothing ever in her life has gone wrong before when she wakes up in the morning. This is good for me, because sometimes I am a little hard on her. (Confession from a learning-how-to-do-it mama.) I know the day will come when she will remember the events from the day before, so I am working hard on being outrageously happy right along with her. After all, we do have quite a lot to be thankful for.
Lately, my favorite thing about her character is watching her utter trust and belief in Jesus. It is so amazing to watch the fruition of Jesus' teaching about believing like a child. There is no doubt in her mind that not only does God exist, but He is who He says He is, and does what He says He will do. Faith like a child is exemplified in her. I pray she keeps that faith through all of her years.

When My Son Dances

It is just so stinkin' cute! He could be doing any other activity (usually copying his older sister because whatever she is doing must be fun) and when he hears any type of music, he will stop and start to dance. He bounces up and down, though not necessarily to the beat, which just makes it even more adorable. And he waves his arms. Sometimes he claps. Sometimes he spins. Whatever moves he decides to bust out just make my heart burst with love for him.
It is such a joy to see my son developing physically. He's had medical issues, nothing terminal, but enough to make his development quite a bit slower than normal. The doctors think that cognitively he is fine, but he is almost two and still wears twelve month clothing. For a while, he wasn't even on the growth charts. Talk about scary. It is now written in his charts, "Failure to Thrive." It truly breaks my heart that he has suffered in this way (and other ways). He still has issues and is looking surgery in the face soon. However, in many ways, he is just like any other two year old.
He expresses every single emotion he is having, whenever and wherever he has it. Often these days, it feels like his only emotion is frustration. I can understand why. He is wanting to participate in life on a more independent level, but does not have the words to use to tell us what it is he wants or needs. He is delayed in speech and I fear that these "terrible twos" will last for an extended year. As much as I understand, I have two other children to care for and I can't always respond to his tantrum. Nor do I think it is appropriate to coddle him. He has to learn to find a way to communicate that does not involve screaming and crying. (He used to throw himself on the floor, too, but quickly learned that when the head meets tile in a battle, the tile wins.) I will bring this up to his speech therapist when we see her next. For now, it is constant reminders, "What do you want?"and, "Use your words." Maybe this emotional display, which feels constant at times, it why I enjoy so much watching him have fun.
His love for music and for dancing brings life back to the simple joys. It is these joyful times that I cherish and dwell on. He is such a sweet boy, and watching him go through this inability to speak clearly is really difficult. (As a side-note, my daughter was and is very verbally advanced. At four years old, she is reading entire books by herself with help only on new, big words that she hasn't seen before. So watching my son not be able to communicate clearly is a first for me.) He loves his older sister and his baby brother. He LOVES to "guggle" (snuggle) with his blanket in mommy and daddy's lap. He follows his sister around the house, or park, or church, or anywhere we go. It's so cute to watch him learn how to be a kid, from another kid.
As his second birthday approaches, I reflect on our happy anticipation of our sweet boy. We were so excited to be parents again. We couldn't wait to see what gift God had in store for us. And He did not disappoint. Our son has been the most challenging child so far. (We'll see how little brother holds up, but so far he's been the easiest.) Most of those challenges were health related. It was difficult to focus on the wonder of him for a long time because I was so worried about his health. However, when I lay aside my worry, and look at him for who he is, I am overwhelmed with love. He is precious to me, and I wouldn't trade him for health any day. I feel honored and privileged to be given the responsibility of raising this magnificent boy.
Lord help me to show him You!

Still working on tummy time at 10 months.

Fun at a wedding.

Asher is playing "Doctor" with his sister. The hospital gown is from when he had surgery. I am not sure we were supposed to keep it, but it ended up going home with us and serves as a reminder of God's faithfulness with all that he's been through.

He has the best sad faces. I personally love the huge crocodile tear, lol.

He has a sweet disposition and is usually very tolerant of his eye patch.

New Family Tradition

Growing up we did not really partake in family traditions. I mean, we always had a meal on big holidays, and we had Easter baskets, but nothing solid. Nothing that I can now continue with my children. For some families, I guess that traditions are not that important, and that's fine for them. However, for some reason, I feel like I really need to have something that our family does together every week, or at least most weeks. Something that we all enjoy and look forward to.
This evening, we invited over my mother-in-law (MIL) for popcorn and a movie. I made a batch of kettle corn using my brand new whirley-pop, and we all agreed to watch Disney's classic, Peter Pan. The kettle corn was gone in about 10 minutes, at which point I suggested we take an intermission to make some more. I was promptly out-voted and the movie continued. (Don't fret for me though, I made some more after the kids were put to bed and am currently enjoying the deliciousness.) I think the kids are still a little too young to sit through the entire movie without getting somewhat distracted, especially my two year old. On the whole though, it was a very fun evening. With a few adjustments (starting a little earlier and preparing the kids for bed before the movie), I think this will be a great, weekly family tradition. Maybe in the future, we'll have popcorn and board games, or some other fun, family activity, but for now, it makes me happy to snuggle with my family and just "be" with each other. :)
(PS - I also enjoyed a glass of red wine with my kettle corn. Classy, eh?)

Heaven

Heaven has been on my mind lately. Not in a morbid, "I can't wait to get there!" sort of way. Just in a curious way.

Recently, I heard a sermon talking about how we will be workers when we get to heaven. The idea sounds heinous at first, but I listened to the whole sermon with an open heart. One point that makes it not such a horrific lesson is that I believe God made us with the desire to work. So when we're in heaven, we will have such joy in our work, we will actually be, well, joyful about working! And you know how as humans, we look for fulfillment in our work, and all too often we don't find it? Well, that will not be an issue in heaven.

It's interesting to me how here on Earth, we all feel like there was a certain job that we were created to do. And we strive to build our lives around that. Perhaps we were created for a particular job. Certainly there are those of us who were "called" to whatever they're doing. But I would venture to guess that the majority of us just follow our interests. Even if that interest is solely in earning money to make living, we pursue whatever career will fulfill that interest. However, even when we've reached that goal of career fulfillment, there is always something missing. And on the occasion, we get tired, worn down, fed up and just done. So how is it again that I am supposed to look forward to working in heaven?

For one thing, we will be utterly fulfilled in heaven. There won't be any jealousy, or envy in the workplace in heaven. We won't have the urge to "keep up with the Jones'." We won't be working to pay the bills, or save money for this or that. We will know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that we are doing exactly what we were created to do. How will we know? We will simply be working to glorify God, which is truly what we were created for in the first place. 

So often I feel like what I do isn't where I want to be and isn't really what I was created for. I get caught up in the idea that I should have a career by now, instead of being a stay at home mom. I should be done with college and helping mamas bring their precious little ones into this world. I should be established in my career, and be called upon to do my job because nobody else does my job better than I do. People should look up to me and think highly of me. I should be making money. Oh, and I should be glorifying Jesus while I am at all of these other "shoulds."

Then I am reminded that what I am doing today, is exactly what God wants me to be doing. Glorifying God is the first reason to do any kind of work. Right now, I am nourishing His children that he has granted me guard over. When I love my children, I am storing up treasures in heaven. Because by the grace of God, they will be one of those treasures. And when I think about that, then suddenly, the treasures that I seek after here on Earth, seem so silly. I don't need to prove myself to my peers, I don't need to look for fulfillment in anyone or anything else.When I am heaven-minded, I am glorifying God. I am fulfilled. There is no magic job that is going to make me excited to work all of the time. But when I remember why I work, why I do what I do, I should be happy to step up.

Being a stay at home isn't going to get me any trophies or accolades. I certainly won't be "well known" or "well to-do." But right now, I am doing to most important job I could be, and that is something. Surely I should strive to do the best I can at it, even on those days that I am tired, worn-down and fed-up. Who knows what I will be doing for a job when I am in heaven, but I don't have to wait until I get there to find fulfillment in my work. I just have to remember who I work for, and why.

Quiet times and Sanity

My third child was born this past December, and for almost the first month of his life, our family was able to adjust to this new addition with the help of my husband. He spent a year saving up all of his vacation time, and spent it almost all of it at one once when baby arrived. I cannot express how thankful I am to him for staying home with us. That times was precious and desperately needed. It afforded us the opportunity to not only get used to being a family of five, but to also introduce our baby to my family in California. On the whole, I think we had done a fairly good job at adjusting to this "new" life. Nevertheless, the first week my husband was back at work was terrifying for me. 

I had this notion that if I didn't keep on top of every single chore, I would surely drown. So I made myself wake up before my older two children. This was rather easy because my husband leaves for work around 6:30 a.m. and I am a terribly light sleeper. Not to mention, my newborn requires some nourishment fairly early in the morning as well. So by 7 a.m. I am out of  bed and begin my morning routine. It has occurred to me since starting this ritual, that routines aren't just for children, they're helpful for adults, as well.

The routine actual starts the evening before when I prepare the coffee pot. All I have to do in the morning is groggily push the "on" button and wait for the nectar to brew. While it's brewing, I put some toast in the toaster, drink a glass of water, and choose my starbucks mug of the day. (I have more than 30 Starbucks mugs which I have been collecting for about 7 years. I enjoy choosing a mug to reflect my mood that morning.) By the time my toast is buttered, the coffee is ready to be poured. My breakfast comes with me to my favorite room in the house. I think of it as a multipurpose/family room, but my husband likes to call it the "den." Maybe it's a guy thing. Anyway, I bring my coffee, my toast, my devotional and my Bible to the den with me. While I eat and drink, I pray, read and reflect.

It's such a peaceful time in the morning before the chaos of a 4 year old and nearly 2 year old invades. Don't get me wrong, I love the chaos, and I love my children. But this mama has benefited from having my own routine without the children to distract me. There have been a few days that I have decided to sleep in instead of getting up early. Every single one of those days has been more challenging than when I pull myself out of bed early. When I have my own time with God, and a cup of coffee, I am much more patient, kind, and loving throughout the day, than when I neglect the routine. Truth be told, I am also quite a bit more involved. What I mean is, instead of just watching my children play, I join in the fun more readily. I know my kids relish this time, as do I, and I hope that they remember these days better than the lazy ones during which I am more prone to simply observe.

And those chores I mentioned, well, I am actually better able to tackle those as well. I will say, by the end of the day, I am more than ready for bed. However, not surprisingly, going to bed by 9:30 makes it all the easier to wake up by 7.  All that to say, these quiet times, and my new-found routine, has done it's part to maintain my sanity.