Brimming Passion

I don't know exactly what it is, but I am a bit overwhelmed. I have been reading a book titled "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp which has not so delicately messed with my heart in ways that I need to be messed with. My husband and I sat tonight and watch video clips on you tube of an incredible lady who became a crusader for her own daughter's health and literally thousands of others by writing her book "Breaking the Vicious Cycle". Once in awhile I see someone full. Literally full of love, full of passion, full of what it takes to be amazing. I have just been reminded of what it means to be thankful in all things, to embrace what is given, to accept what is hard, and to pursue my passion. It amazes me what God can use to stir passion within us. What is it that sometimes causes us to attach to a cause? A movie? A book? Sometimes seeing something in action right in front of us. Sickness? I feel like I am only starting to remove the packaging on the idea of grace- real grace, which is full of passion. Passionate grace. Brimming grace, full of passion. That's who Christ was. I have had a hard time handing over to Him my husband's health and the intense struggle he's had in recent months, and I'm reading this book suddenly feeling like I can hardly hold it together as I read about grace, and thankfulness through loss. And pain. And finding joy in these things. And how everything is a gift-literally everything, whether it means we lose or we gain. As my husband said goodnight to me tonight I just looked at him for a few moments, trying to take everything in. This man who shares life with me, who loves me, provides, laughs, hugs, and hides his pain, who is my best friend and I get to have him. He is with me and he is my gift from God. God has used him to teach me about Crohn's disease and to become passionate about being educated and to help others. Sometimes my heart feels too full; I wonder how much more I could love and can I fit anyone else in there. I'm so glad God does not have that problem. His desire is that everyone would know His love and to be loved in return. He is jealous for us, literally brimming with passion towards each of us. He has been showing this to me, showing what intense love and passion looks like. Full. Overflowing. Love. Passionate, full of grace. Sobbing, messy, wondrous love.

Summer Breeze

How I am loving summer!! This incredible heat, cool breezes, popsicles, swimming, sun burns and being outside. We are blessed to live in a town where summer is the real deal all summer! We really feel every single season living in the mountains. It has been mid-40s for the last WEEK which is nearly way to hot for anyone, but amazing. I told my hubby that our compensation for the heat is a mild winter, and to be honest while I love my flip flops and tanks, I'm looking forward to the winter weather whenever it arrives because I know we can handle that. My 3 year old asked me today, "Is it snowing?" to which I replied, "um, it's WAY too hot to be snowing!!" We are looking forward to a busy weekend in and out with lots of fun adventures, and soon a road trip holiday to the Island. Wherever you are in your summer adventures, happy adventuring!!

Catching a Breath

I think this may be the most quiet time I have had in awhile. I actually got out last night for 2 whole hours! Alone! But came back to put my baby to bed...well put 3 kids to bed. My hubby is still in recovery and struggling a bit, so some nights I'm on duty for bedtime too. I'm finding it hard to get myself going at the start of the day, even though my kids are routinely up early, hungry, it sort of requires me to get going. But I have just felt like I want to sit and sleep and rest. I think through everything I am just tired and trying to keep up. In the last 2 weeks we have been adjusting our diet and learning to follow a new set of rules. Even though it's really just my hubby who "needs" to make changes, we really all are which I don't mind. I actually love to cook and bake, so this gives me something new to try and I am loving it! The only downside, the amount of time it can take to bake and cook and prepare, because we now have to do a lot more from home. I have been daydreaming about a mommy vacation, somewhere quiet, cozy, where I can sleep uninterrupted, and do whatever I want!! Who knows when that will happen. For now I'm just taking a short breath away, enjoying my quiet time, and counting down the minutes until baby wakes. Also, I have started a new blog related to my husbands health if you are interested. crohnsfamily.blogspot.ca :)

Marriage: In Sickness

This last month has brought me one of my greatest challenges, probably in my life, but most certainly in my married life. I wonder sometimes when vows are spoken how we find a way to commit to them unknowing what lies ahead in life, and how long that love will be allowed us. In sickness and in health. Of course, in health. Most of us probably marry in our peak health, young and vibrant. When we married, I was 21, he was 26. We were young, in love, full of hope and excited for the future. It wasn't long after we were married that a diagnosis came that rocked us, and while I knew of past health struggles, there was no diagnosis, and no cause to worry. No evident struggle or fight with sickness. A few months took us on a whirlwind of doctors visits until we met the one who would say what no one wants to hear. I remember watching the doctor scribble it on a paper before she said it as if to convince herself of what she was going to say, and pronounce to my husband that he had a chronic sickness which has no cure. I cried. I remember in later days grieving heavily over this diagnosis and the helplessness I felt towards it, and in that, this need to give away what was not mine. The diagnosis was not mine. My husband's life was not mine, but God's. I had to somehow grace that back to Him, which had been so graciously given to me. Fast forward about 6 years and we now have 3 kids together, and while the struggle with his condition has been up and down, it seems relatively quiet to our daily lives. Until 2 months ago. He shows me something. I quickly dismiss, but wonder, is he having a flare up? He says he doesn't know. We are now far away from specialists and knowledgeable doctors, and it's been so long since we've seen this that we wonder if it could be true. Awhile later, it has gotten much worse. He is laying sick on the couch, and so I tell him he needs to go the hospital, which he does, and continues to go back and forth for another 5 days to treat an infection. He is admitted one night, when I am at home with 3 sleeping babes, unsure of what is happening. It is an incredible struggle to know which is more important, to protect and take care of my kids, or to be at my husbands side. Not that one is more important than the other, but it is an incredibly unfair decision to have to make. I am incredibly lucky that weekend to have family coming from out of town, and so I wait for them to arrive. Their presence allows me to sneak away for important appointments and offer support to the man who gifted me with the three beauties who wait for us at home. I'm not sure which is worse, to watch your husband or your children be in pain. Maybe they are equally the same. In any case, it requires a lot of effort for me at moments to hold myself together, mostly because I know he needs me to do that. On a particularl day, I find myself crumbling amidst my surroundings which bring back unfair memories of a lost loved one, unrelated to what we are going through. It is hard nontheless. A few days later, a doctor informs him of the grim diagnosis the hospital docs thought he had, which sends my mind into other places. I suddenly have to process the thought that I may have lost him, and I was at home. Waiting. I realize then how quickly things can change. It puts into perspective this incredible chance we have to love, and to give our best to someone based on what we can do for them today. My faith tells me that God gives all good things, and yet He is still there in the midst of very hard things. He is there even at death. And I know that I can only love a pint size compared to Him. This thing called love which our hearts naturally know how to feel and do, I realize is only a small glimpse into how He feels for us. Walking through sickness and pain with someone you love is a test, albeit one of the hardest. I won't say I enjoyed this, but I am grateful I could be the woman watching him go through this with amazing strength and dignity. And faith. This man challenges me to believe for things I feel are out of reach, and to ask for what seems impossible. He has shown me what it means to be strong in spite of pain. He has been strong for me, even when he was the one in physical pain. Nearly 8 years into this journey of marriage, I wonder what could come next. We have barely dipped our toes into this life long adventure of learning and loving, and I can't imagine what other trials and hardships we will likely go through together. But I am thankful he is mine. In sickness and in health. I love you Jason.

Growing

In the time since I last wrote, many changes have occurred in our household! Growing changes seen most apparently in my now 1 year old and his older now 5 year old brother! All in one busy birthday week, they both quickly assumed their new age, it is hard to believe it has all come and gone so fast. We spent a fun birthday weekend celebrating with family. It was a great time to be reunited with close friends, old friends, and to see grandkids play together as if they had never been apart. In a few short months we will watch our only girl turn the number of 3, and then what?? I am constantly reminded how blessed we are to have these 3 gifts, as they are, and to be able to share in their days and watch them grow right before my eyes, as if it requires no effort at all. God is good.

When Big Families Were Normal

I came from a family of 5. Two parents, three kids. Myself and two sisters, one older and one younger, and me right in the middle. That was it. I don't consider a family of five small, nor do I consider them large. I grew up knowing families with four or more kids and it was never strange to me, though I don't think it ever occurred to me that I would want a larger family until ours began to grow. Now we match my husbands and my family. Two parents, three kids. As I've grown up my view and value for family has changed. Now that I have one of my own, and having gone through the loss of a child through miscarriage in the process, each additional child is counted a blessing. They all are. They are each a gift handed to us, graciously given, and completely valuable. I am amazed at how much culture has changed in recent years in regards to this, and in particular the attitude towards those who choose to have a larger family. Whether you have 2 or 20, I don't see why anyone thinks they have a place to judge or determine if someone should "stop". There are a lot more vulger terms put out there in the opinions of those who write publicly and online. What is even more amazing, and to be honest a bit annoying, is when I personally hear comments on the size of my family. And I have 3 kids. Not 20, but 3. Be it that I am young, and my kids are close in age, but I have moments where I have to hold my tongue towards those who say things without a thought, and assume they have a right to be vocal about our personal family choices. "Did you do a head count!?" These were the words heckled at me from a man sitting in a van as I walked past him with my babes in tow today. And on another day "You might as well have one more!" and when I responded "Sure, why not?" he replied, "you would really have another one!?" I hadn't realized he was asking a serious question, but does it matter? On many occasions I'm told how busy I must be, and some people honestly look concerned for me as I juggle my 3 babes in public. Are kids the only humans who ever have bad days? And are tempermental? And have needs? There is a silver lining in this, in that there are some incredibly gracious older people who compliment me and spout words of encouragement as I try to take care of my young ones, and tell me stories of their own 5 kids or however larger their family was. And sometimes I meet some daring young folk who have 4 or more kids of their own, and are just enjoying them. Enjoying the busyness, the fun, the exhaustion, the variety and the stress of it all. Because if we were honest, raising kids can be stressful too. But it's mostly fun. Some of those daring ones are dear friends of mine and incredible examples to me as I work things out with my 3. Mostly I just wonder why it has become such a commodity for families to be large. Especially considering most of the previous generations came from HUGE families. My husbands family is a great example of this. 5 kids on his moms side, 11 on his dad's side. My grandpa had 10 siblings. And while many of these would say how incredibly hard it was to raise a family of that size, I think many would also agree that it was worth the hardship, the stress, and all of that because of the bond they have now. I have seen that in my grandpa's family and in my husbands family as well. So what has changed? The rules have changed perhaps. Different world, different societal pressures, economy, birth control options have probably all contributed to this new mindset. Not that they are all wrong, but I just wish that it would be okay that for those who decide that having a large family is for them, that they weren't looked down upon, and it would still be considered normal to have 4-5 kids instead of only 1 or 2. Some of you may be wondering if we plan on having more. It's possible, but we're happily busy with our 3 little ones. For now, we're a happy family of two parents, 3 kids. What do you think has influenced this perception of large families? Has your view of family changed since having your own?

Dealing with Life's Unexpecteds

Today has been one of those days where the "unexpected" have forced us to change our route slightly. While trying to rush my kids out this morning for a full play time at a community group in town, it never occurred to me to find out if it was open! Being that my kids are not in school I am completely unaware of any off days, or pro-d days and the like. So we drove, baby fell asleep, arrived to find a sign on the door saying they were closed today. The only day this week were able to be there. So we turned around, drove back towards town, and decided we would go for hot chocolate, which in my opinion sounds like more fun anyways! I love little mornings out like that with my kids. Nearing the corner of our house, my oldest tells me his tummy hurts and insists on going home. I quickly turn and head home. Once we are inside, it's as if the tummy ache has left, as he goes and pulls out his books and crayons right away. Maybe he just wanted to be home today? But very soon arguing and emotions surface between siblings and I assume he is not feeling that well after all. Time to rest. But nobody will rest. Except the baby. So what's this mother to do with a notfeelingwell child, and another who should rest but won't? Fold laundry, stare at dirty dishes that need washing, and debate if maybe I should also have a nap. It's feeling like one of those days. Sometimes things catch up to everyone, even little ones and it seems they are more than happy to hang out at home, snuggle on the couch, and not care whatsoever where we go today. I like those days. It feels like we've changed our plans 3 or 4 times already, but I'm okay with that. I like being home, snuggling on the couch. I can handle those kinds of unexpecteds.

Hockey, with a side of Hockey

As my kids grow I learn more and more about what they like. Without stating the obvious, considering the title of this post, my oldest loves hockey. Hockey this, hockey that. Road hockey with dad meant first putting on their jersies (sweater, optional), and playing hard. Running, and trying to score against dad, and keeping the puck away from his little sister. Oh yea, she usually tries to play too. The town we live in happens to be very big on hockey. We took the kids to watch the home team here and listened to him scream blue murder the ENTIRE game in an effort to cheer them on...even when they were at the other end of the rink!! Ahhh, so cute. He didn't care, he was taking in the whole experience! I had to laugh today at breakfast while we were discussing all the hockey teams that could ever exist, and I was being quizzed on what their names were and where they are from, he asks me... "where do the Sharks come from?". Clearly, at 8am I am not thinking hockey related things, and draw a blank. Lydia pipes up, "They come from water!" I can't help but laugh, because well, though not the answer he was looking for, she is quite right. Later in the day we are driving, and he assumes it is a great time to see what I have remembered since breakfast! He begins to ask me about ALL the teams again. I love his heart behind it, as I know it's something he really enjoys. Do you ever wonder what your kids will be like once they're grown up? Or why certain activites consume so much of their passion? I'm trying to picture him as 6' tall NHL'er, or a hockey coach. What are the chances? Maybe at some point we'll let him actually try to play on a real hockey team. At lease until the snow melts for now, I can count on him counting on me to help him memorize every name, symbol and team member that currently plays hockey, and when summer arrives, I know exactly where he will be. Outside, playing hockey.

The "P" says "Puhh!"

Okay, so the last 3 weeks have been filled full of potty training adventures! Thank goodness I only have one child to take through this at a time, otherwise there's a chance I would likely lose my sanity. While it's one of those things that must be done, at some age, at some time- when that "some time" comes, there is no guarantee it will be easy, graceful, pretty, or without frustrations. Lucky for me this time around (this is the 2nd time around), there have been some laugh out loud moments. I intentionally waited with my 2 1/2 year old until we were moved in to our new place to keep her focused on it. She has done very well! Day one, lots of accidents, and reminding her what to do on the pot, as we had introduced this new thing a few times previous. Day 2, I decide okay, this is it or else, and she sits on the potty, pink floral rainboots on, baby in arms waiting quietly for something to happen. I later find her with her head covered, replying "I"m the boogy man" anytime I ask if she has peed. Or the times she would tell me "I felt a pee coming" after she had peed in a corner. Which of course sent me running to find the pee which nearly blended in on the floor for some unknowing person to slip on....or a curious baby to crawl through. Ugh. One day she told me post-poop that she was pretending her underwear was a diaper. Hmm. Even after I told her "No more diapers!!". Much more recently her pees and poops are met with "yay!" and "You did it!!", and we all still try and be excited for her potty acheivements. Most times now she goes to the potty on her own, tells me she's done, and I help her finish. Then we together try and keep the baby away from the potty!! Two kids down, and one little mister to go. One little raccoon as he's now called at home, for his sneaky, quick ability to get nearly everything away from you and into his mouth. In a year or so, he'll be sitting on the pot like his big sister, running around with naked baby freedom and acheiving the same success. It ain't pretty. The P up there it stands for Poop. Potty. Princess. Okay try this. Princess pooping on the potty. Thank goodness she's starting to get it right.

Remembering my First Love

As time would have it, I am counting down the last few months that my firstborn remains a 4 year old. As my 4 year old would like me to know, he is already 5 and he can't wait. So much changes with that next birthdate! Some of his best friends have already hit this milestone, started school, get to do "big kid" things. I am holding onto every single day I have this 4 year old of mine. I have thought a lot lately about how much has changed since my boy came screaming into the world at an astounding 5lbs, 11oz. Tiny, cuddly, helpless, and incredibly beautiful. He was mine. He was ours. We were immediately in love and over the years he has opened up and grown into an incredibly smart, whitty, outgoing now still-4 year old who is perfectly happy growing up as quick as possible. Is it must me, or does it take a really rough season to realize sometimes, or more remember what these little people are? With a lot of stress in my days lately, and tiredness (thanks to a 3rd baby who LOVES nighttime sleeping), and to be honest, a touch of lonliness, the grumpy mommy side of me comes out quickly. I don't boast about that, I am just telling the truth. Sometimes I forget that this little one, growing by the second, is still the same tiny, helpless one who I birthed and held tightly. I can get so caught up in "doing" that I forget to sit and simply enjoy him. Hugging, kissing, sharing sweet thoughts about him, whispered into his ear and seeing the smile that erupts on his face in those moments. Oh, and tickling. He loves to be tickled. It has been a lesson for me over the years to take time to sit and enjoy my kids. While life has gotten busier with 3, they are still my sweet babies who I love and they should know that. And some days I feel as though he gets the shorter end of the deal when by mid-afternoon I need my mommy break and he is begging me to play with him. Some days I am amazed and caught off guard by his incredible wisdom, and thoughtfulness. And I realize this boy has gifts all his own, and I feel as though I can learn from him. We have spent the last few mornings talking about who we know that doesn't know Jesus, and why certain people do not go to church. And praying. And I see what a great gift he is to me, to encourage me to pray more, for him, with him and for others. In the business of my days, sometimes I feel like I am ill-equipped to give him what he requires of me, and to offer my best so he reaches his full potential. But he offers me such grace and love. I am so blessed to know him, and to call him my firsborn, how gracious and good God has been to us by offering us such a gift. My first love, first babe, and first son. I love him.