Decorating the Library We Don't Yet Have

If you are here frequently enough to know that I have bought a banana hook and various other items for our new-but-not-yet house (including a dining room hutch, which is residing at a friend's house because as my mother in law says, you couldn't fit another toothpick into this house with our family of five, Joel's parents, Joel's sister, and Joel's sister's accumulation of furniture and things for HER upcoming move), you may not be surprised to find out that I've also undertaken a few small decorating projects. Yes, we don't live there yet, but I have things to hang on the walls. That patience thing is just not taking for some reason.

I came across a quote that I liked in the kids' new Precious Moments bedtime book (a baptism gift for Oliver, but if you think the big kids will allow it to sit unused til he's old enough, you haven't met my kids.). Searching for a way to use it in a project, I came across this idea on Pinterest (of course), which linked to an item for sale on Etsy (naturally). Ten dollars for the wrong quote is not my idea of a deal. So I took a good, hard look at the photo and engineered my own!

First, new frames for 50% and 40% off at Michael's, thanks to my mother-in-law's couponing prowess. Then, transparency sheets for the quotes themselves, free from my sister-in-law's fourth grade classroom. But what for the page of literature in the background? What book could I deface in order to make something cool for the walls of my own home library? (I can sense my husband's indignance as he reads this. Joel, I concede, it is really your home library. Online catalog, shelf markers, and all.)

This is where it comes in really handy to be married to a librarian. I asked him if Lafayette had a collection where they collect "weeded" volumes, those to be taken out of circulation. He asked what kind of book I wanted. Shooting for the moon, I requested some classic work of literature, or even a dictionary or other reference work. No math textbooks, I stipulated. He warned me that they weren't likely to have much good literature lying around in the donation pile, but he'd check. And do you know what book Joel brought home for me that very day?

The freaking Odyssey of Homer. I love that man.

So I have the sweetest pages, with numbered stanzas and everything, to mount behind my quotes. I wish I had some "in progress" photos, but the process was pretty simple: Rip out pages from the Odyssey, say a brief prayer of repentance for defacing classic literature, and then crop slightly to fit my frames the way I wanted. For the larger frame, I took two facing pages from the book, cropped, and taped them in an aesthetically-pleasing overlapping manner. Next, I played with the quotes in Microsoft Word to get them to the right size, alignment, font combinations, etc. and printed on the transparencies. I cut the transparencies to size using the glass from inside the frames as a template.

That part took some doing, because I found that the ink smudged just a little even after I let them dry awhile. I printed several times and came up with some creative ways to cut them to the right size so that the ink would remain undisturbed. Because as a mother of three children under four years old, I like to seek out extra tasks that try my patience and perfectionism.

Into the frame went the glass, transparency, book page, and backing, in that order.

But in the end, I turned out a couple of pretty cool-looking pieces for our future home library walls:

(No "before" or "in process" pictures, sorry, but imagine empty frames and an intact Odyssey, I guess?)

Also, any suggestions for a paint color that might look nice with these? We have a dark teal recliner and mostly oak-ish-looking furniture for the library. I'm just undecided what direction to go with the wall color. I want it to feel warm and sophisticated, so maybe something in the brown family? I don't know, I've never had to make these decisions since we have been renting forever.

If you enjoyed this little project, or have done something similar, leave me some love in the comments. I'm also eager for more decorating ideas I could undertake before we move. Do you have a Pinterest board I should be following?

Coming Soon: New Digs!

Hi, me again! So as I doorknob-confessed at the end of my last blog post, we bought a house. Are buying a house. When does it officially become past-tense? Our closing date is in September. (Do you like to lift heavy things and possibly excel at visuo-spatial tasks such as Tetris? I may have a truck for you to help load in a month and a half.)

Do you have any ideas or suggestions for what I can do while staying at my in-laws' house, with fewer than 10% of my belongings, to organize and prepare for moving into our new house at the end of September? I already bought a banana hook and created wall art for the library. The banana hook is for the kitchen, not the library. That might have been unclear. The point is that I'm going stir-crazy and the anticipation is killing me and blah blah blah, it helps me feel better to do things for the house. Other than drive past it a rather creepy number of times throughout the week to monitor progress on the new septic system and, you know, just be with it. Kum ba ya.

Joel should be thankful I am not doing the same with my piano, because that is 45 minutes away. But oh how I look forward to its warmth and beauty greeting me each morning as I descend the stairs in my new home. I might hire a babysitter just to sit in my own home and play, and play, and play, and play. Or install a complicated baby gate at the top of the stairs and confine the kids upstairs with all their toys and a box of Goldfish. I'm pretty sure it would be worth it, even if I later discover my bed completely torn apart and possibly peed in.

Here is just a teensy sneak peek of the new place that isn't perfect, but is perfect for us. It is so cute. That little porch will be home to the glider bench and table that my parents gave us in their recent downsize, and I am just itching to sit out there with a cup of tea watching my first rain storm in our new house. And pull my car into that big, beautiful garage so that I can vacuum it out (maybe there is even a central vac hookup in the garage? Too much to ask?) and stay warm and dry while strapping my brood into their many and various car seats.

This post may have been a huge mistake, because I basically just shot myself in the patootie with regard to patience and contentment and the Lord's timing. Blarg. Hopefully a child will start crying somewhere and break me from this reverie. (At my house, this is neither an unreasonable request nor a long shot in any sense.)

Ok but seriously. I only have side dish and dessert recipes left to organize into my recipe binder (which I have owned for probably two years and am just now sorting out. I must be getting desperate.). After that, it's curtains for my sanity unless I come up with something more to add to my little box of "for the house" stuff. New cutting boards and a banana hook will only sustain me for so long. Ooooh I know, a trip to Lowes for paint colors! Because it makes total sense to select colors for rooms when I haven't even seen my rugs and curtains and furniture in three months. This won't be a crapshoot in the least!

As I go to select tags for this post, it doesn't really fit anywhere but I'm going to label it under "Homemaking" because what is more relevant to the category than actually having a home, right? Suffice it to say, God is so much more generous with us than we deserve. Guaranteed. In no way have I earned the right to find a beautiful home in our price range, in exactly the time frame we were hoping for, to exactly accommodate us and our belongings. It is just the balance between comfortable and modest. I love it. Eight years of marriage, six (about to be seven) places of residence, and three children testify to the Lord's continuous provision. The lines have fallen for us in pleasant places [Psalm 16:6].

Oliver at Two Months

So, my babies grow fast. Oliver had his two-month check-up this morning, and Dr. Chi was thoroughly impressed at his advanced development. He weighed in at 13 lb 4 oz, which is in the 75-90th %ile range and according to Dr. Chi, the size of a four month old baby. His length was 24 1/2 inches, which remains up around the 97th %ile and comparable to a six month old baby. Growth projections remain the same as at his one-month check-up; Oliver is likely to be 6'2 and 180-200 lbs. Yup. Now accepting donations toward groceries.

Relatedly, I saw another mom at the pediatrician's office with her son, who must have been 16ish years old, six feet tall and with hairy legs. So then I stood there holding my infant son, trying to picture him and his big brother at that size and oh my heart. I just can't even. I debated asking her grocery budget but who am I to be able to handle that kind of truth this early in the morning.

Oliver is advanced in other ways, too, not just his hearty size. He sleeps an average (starting in the last week) of 9-10 hours overnight. Bedtime has been around 8pm, and he makes it to at least 5am, with his record standing at 6:30am. THAT is my boy. He's either a great sleeper, or I am (his bed is right next to mine, so surely I wouldn't snooze through him wanting to be fed?). The big turning point was when we moved him from his Rock n Play, where he slept on his back and at a slight incline, into a travel-size Pack n Play where he sleeps on his belly. That kid LOVES his new bed, and even during the day when he feels sleepy, he tends not to sleep well until we put him in there (as opposed to his swing, car seat, or even being held).

He has half-rolled over a couple of times, from his back up on to his side. Once he made it over onto his belly (that was at least a week ago now, around 7 weeks of age) but more often he makes it up to his side and hangs out there. He's able to push and hold himself up on his arms and holds his head up high as he looks around. We get numerous smiles and coos from our social little guy.

[Edit: He just rolled again, right in front of me, as soon as I turned my camera on! Sometimes the stars just align.]

I might add that all of this is tremendously encouraging because there are times when I seriously question whether Oliver will survive infancy, due to the trauma he regularly experiences at the hands of his big brother. It started early. Most notably, the other day I was making breakfast while Oliver lounged in his swing. He was just across the room, safe and sound. Or so I thought. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then my two boys wailing like someone had died. Never have I made it from kitchen to living room with such speed and agility. The swing was lying on its side, Oliver facedown on the floor screaming, and Isaac weeping dramatically - whether out of fear or pain, I'm still not sure. I felt simultaneous impulses arise in me to snatch my baby from the floor to be sure he was ok, and to snatch my older son and let him know how NOT OK this was. Oliver won the internal coin flip, and turned out to be just fine; Isaac, well, I guess time will tell whether he's learned the lesson I imprinted upon him. Firmly. I will now be watching Oliver for all of the minutes of all the days until he is old enough to learn self-defense.

And I'm sharing this with you all because I'm 99% sure that my Mother of the Year nomination has already been revoked. Something about seven episodes of Daniel Tiger back to back while I fell asleep nursing the baby. I can't help it that Netflix auto-queues one episode into the next.

There are so many moments that I would love to share with you. I mentally bookmark them all the time - oh, that was so funny! So precious! So brilliant! So mind-blowingly chaotic that nobody will believe me unless I detail it on the internets! But then all of my mental bookmarks go the way of my abdominal muscles, never to be seen again. Le sigh. Perhaps during nap time today (which just started rather smoothly, knock on wood and throw salt over your shoulder and don't jinx it by talking about it) I will wrack my brain for all of the blog-worthy things I've been forgetting over the past few months.

Mental bookmark to take a two-month photo of Oliver with The Teddy Bear and post it along with comparison photos of the big kids. Think I'll remember? (Hint: we have no such one-month photos of Oliver. Third child syndrome. Oops. Hopefully he'll understand and be grateful that I was too busy keeping him alive and out of the clutches of his older siblings and making sure everyone was fed edible things at somewhat regular times of the day.)

Also? We bought a house. I know. Would I just drop that on you all right at the end of a blog post and peace out? Yes, yes I would. BOOM. Oh and Joel and I just celebrated our eight year anniversary. No gifts, figuring that between me birthing him a son and him buying me a house all within two months of our anniversary, we were probably good to go. Although, I feel like it is probably all downhill from there in terms of future anniversary gifts.

The Big Move

I've been procrastinating this post for awhile - my first public thoughts since moving. Mostly because my thoughts haven't been fit for public consumption. Even now, I'm uncomfortably aware of the need to temper my thoughts and feelings with grace, because the honest truth is that deep down, I'm a grumpy, selfish 36-week-pregnant lady. But the even deeper truth is that God is so good to us, and has used the crucible of these last few weeks to teach me more about the depths of His grace than I ever expected.

On May 3, our little family moved in with Joel's parents and sister. We now outnumber the native inhabitants of the house, and will soon add a newborn to the mix. So when I think all my cranky thoughts about not having my own washer and dryer, my own kitchen, my own 1800 square feet in which to nest, the first thing I ought to remind myself (but usually fail to do so) is that we are not the ones who are being inconvenienced here. We are being welcomed, accommodated, and blessed by the generosity and hospitality of our family.

Two weeks in, and I'm finally starting to feel like I know which way is up. I'm starting to brainstorm what our routine could look like (Monday morning going to the park with some other mommas, including my dear sister in law and her kids; Wednesdays, library story time or Moms' Bible study depending on the week...). It helps me to anchor my days and weeks a bit, at least until baby brother arrives and throws everything off-kilter again. This morning we even ventured into Bible verse review at breakfast, something that hasn't crossed my mind in weeks, possibly months.

The first few days were some of the most emotionally intense times of my life. Battling exhaustion, unpacking our bare necessities into 1/20th (rough estimate) of the space we usually live in, changing my definition of necessity. We attended church the morning after we got here and the emotions felt like a punch to the gut. Walking into a church that I've visited over the past ten years as a girlfriend, fiance, and then wife to the pastor's son, suddenly felt oppressive and too much. The same warm hugs and smiles that previously felt so welcoming, now struck me as intrusive. I couldn't fight the mental repetition of, "This isn't my church family. My church family is a hundred miles away in a 200-year-old country church with stained glass windows that make it too hot in the sun, worshipping without me."

I realized then that I needed time to process, time to adjust, and time to, honestly, grieve. The past few weeks were such a whirlwind of packing and organizing and doing that I hadn't had much time to experience the feelings that go along with such a major transition. And by transition, I mean leaving absolutely everything familiar and beloved. Sure, we were heading toward many more things that were already familiar and beloved, as well as new and abundant blessings from the Lord, but at the same time there was a profound sense of loss that hit me like a brick.

I drove away from my job, my career, to become a stay at home mom on a Thursday. And two days later, I watched all my worldly possessions parade from my home into a truck, and finally and unceremoniously into two big, empty, windowless storage units. I said tearful goodbyes to best friends and dearest nannies. I threw gigantic silent pity parties for myself.

But you know what? God has been so good. Two weeks later, and I've gone shooting with the "Annie Oakley Club" from my new church (honestly I watched everyone else shoot because the gunshots sent baby brother into elbow-throwing hysterics, but it was still fun!), the ladies of my new church home are throwing a small "Baby Sprinkle" for us this Saturday to help us feel welcome (which we do!), and I played the piano for worship on Sunday. I've exchanged smiles, hugs, and stories with old and new friends. I've even determined the exact most helpful angle for the ironing board in the basement as I press Joel's work clothes every night. The roses are slowly outnumbering the thorns in this whole process, and it's not the circumstances that are changing; it's my heart.

The Next ESPN Commentary Team

One of the best or worst things about two toddlers sharing a room is the color commentary on each other's behavior and subsequent disciplining. They're allowed to talk and sing and whatnot as they wind down for naps and bedtime, but the rules are:

1. You must stay in bed.

Because they don't stay in bed, supplemental rules are as follows:

2. Don't touch/turn off the monitor (mainly because of the crazy beeping of the handset that ensues, and it gives me a heart attack).

3. Don't open or bang on the windows.

4. Don't play in the closet (mainly because a certain little brother gets himself stuck in there, and then a certain momma has to go all the way upstairs to let him out).

Tonight, I'm not sure which rule was broken but dadda went upstairs with the spoon. I heard M. comment on the decibel level of her brother's spanking and give her approval. I'm sure dadda was relieved.

Momma's Back on the Blog!

So it turns out that having three kids under four years old keeps you kind of busy, especially during the first six weeks. Opening up a blog post at this point feels a bit like stepping tentatively into the creepy old house that's been abandoned for ten years. Cobwebs, creaky floors, and wondering if there's anyone still in here.

HELLO?? Hello....hello....

Great. Well, I just won't check out my Google analytics for awhile as you all look at each other wondering what that noise was from this decrepit corner of the internets.

Obviously I'm going to open with a Pinterest-style half-truth. This morning, I had peanut butter banana granola bars in the oven before 9:00 a.m. If I stopped there, you would be terribly impressed that I had gotten the baby back to sleep by 8:30 and was upstairs with coherent thoughts and even a GOAL. The kids stood on chairs to help add and mix ingredients, it was all very HGTV of me. Shoot, I could even count it as homeschool time.

I, however, am not one to do polished up half-truths. In addition to telling you that I added wheat bran, coconut, and chopped walnuts to my super healthy homemade treats, I'd like to also disclose that I sent my three year old to take care of the baby, who started screaming as I was spreading my granola bars into a perfectly even, aesthetically-pleasing layer in a skillfully parchment paper-lined pan. When that didn't work, the two year old took a turn offering the Nuk.

Also, my children at some point lost interest in stirring and began disagreeing loudly over possession of the new talking hamster toy Isaac received yesterday.

And when I returned to the living room after popping the granola bars into the oven, Mikayla was playing with little dogs and making them cower in their house, hiding from the big voice in the sky. I thought she was recreating Horton Hears a Who, which we watched recently, until she proceeded to inform me that I am the big scary voice of the mean monster coming from the sky. She either missed some significant plot points, or this is a sad commentary on my parenting style of late.

All that to say, I'm emerging from the newborn fog and starting to do actual things and have sequential thoughts. I hope to start sharing some of them with you, and record for my own sake some of the fun, exciting things that are going on at our house.

Birth story coming soon - only six weeks after the fact. Every time I sit down to work on it, my eyelids suddenly become so heavy...weird that the thought of labor and delivery makes me tired, eh? Spoiler: we had a really, really cute baby.

And a picture to reward all your patience and helping me dust off the blog:

I love this photo because nobody is crying, nobody is hitting or kicking, and nobody is even squashing the baby's head. We're happy! We love each other! Quick, take a picture! (They really are crazy about each other; even Oliver is starting to enjoy when his siblings get in his face to talk to him and give kisses.)

Totally unrelated, but I just deleted literally 105 photos from my phone courtesy of my youngest shutterbug (thanks, Isaac). There's something amusing about having seven identical screen shots of "iPhone is disabled, try again in 5 minutes". He knows how to take pictures and screen shots (and prevent me from surfing Facebook for a spell) but at least he can't unlock my phone.

And if you're interested, the granola bar recipe:
http://thechicbrulee.com/2012/02/07/the-best-homemade-granola-bars-ever/

A Bigger Teddy Bear, or a Bigger Jesus

I saw this graphic recently posted on Facebook:

I'm not re-posting it here to pick on those who shared it or "Liked" it. In fact, there are many times and many reasons to believe that God has wonderful gifts in store for His children.

Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give a hope and a future."

Matthew 7:11 "If you then being evil give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"

Psalm 65:9-13 "You visit the earth and cause it to overflow; You greatly enrich it; The stream of God is full of water; You prepare their grain, for thus You prepare the earth. You water its furrows abundantly, You settle its ridges, You soften it with showers, You bless its growth. You have crowned the year with Your bounty, And Your paths drip with fatness."

We go confidently to our tender Father with our needs and requests, and He very often blesses us abundantly. But what I want to comment on is my initial reaction to this picture, and the spiritual danger I think is lurking just around the corner from this kind of thinking. I'm processing "out loud" here, because this hit me very directly in my current, transient, context. This struck a chord, as you will soon find out, because it is precisely what the Lord has been teaching me during these painfully emotional, and searingly intimate, few weeks alone with Himself.

My honest, gut-level reaction to this at first was, "Oh, God had me give up my house/church family/job so that He could give me even better. I wonder what our next house will be like! I bet it will be awesome! Yay!!" Major silent partying and recalling of the above proof-texts ensued.

Is this kind of optimism sinful? Nah. Again, Scripture is replete with descriptions of God as good, generous, and abundantly giving. But I realized almost as soon as the thoughts crossed my mind that I was toeing the line of presumption with God's faithfulness. Does the promise that He has plans to prosper me really mean that my next house will have four bedrooms with walk-in closets, central air, granite countertops, and maybe even a laundry chute? Or is it possible that His will for me is that I learn the discipline of opening my hands to surrender what I hold precious, whether He has a bigger teddy bear to give me or simply His own strong hand to slip into mine. I rather think it's the latter. 

Am I frequently tempted to worry about what our next house will be like, and when we might be able to move into it? A resounding yes to that one. I doubt I should console myself with the thought that our next house will probably be a Victorian mansion with a wraparound porch. What if it isn't? Is God any less faithful? Is He any less good? What if He took my teddy bear in order to teach me reliance on Himself? Perhaps, instead of illustrating Psalm 65, He is rather showing me Philippians 4:11-13:  "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me."

Do I feel reluctant to dive into relationships with new friends in our new church? The pain of leaving dear friends behind is still fresh. And here I seriously don't think the analogy holds up - the people in New Jersey are neither bigger nor fluffier (nor more friendly, nor better cooks, nor more like us, etc.) than those we left behind in Lancaster County. I have to believe that the process of surrender of these relationships, and my church home, has far more to do with learning to trust and abide in Christ while it is just Him and me, here in the in-between.

Is it a huge adjustment to give up being a Licensed Clinical Psychologist? Was it a swallowing of pride to pack my big, gorgeous doctoral degree in its fancy, professional frame into a box with all my curtains? Absolutely no doubt there. Am I giving up that calling for one that is far more glamorous and with a higher earning potential? Well...that part, not so much. Filling out paperwork at my new midwives' office a few weeks ago was pretty humbling as, for the first time, I wrote "mom" on the Occupation line instead of "Psychologist". That's another blog post for another day, and many far more qualified SAHMs have written on the subject already, but what I'm saying is that I didn't let go of my career in order to gain something immediately or obviously bigger and better. I just became a homemaker without a home, for crying out loud. 

No, giving up these things was a sacrifice. As in, it has sucked. My heart has been completely broken, and I have felt utterly rent from all that I loved. (Drama much? PREGNANT.) Sometimes I focus far too much on the painful parts of the sacrifice and feel just a bit like a martyr. And as I have spent appropriate time grieving that which has been surrendered, I have felt lonely, out of place, mentally disjointed. I've also felt, acutely, my spiritual vulnerability - how Satan delights in using our emotional weakness as a foothold to ensnare us in old, besetting sins! The Lord gently, but firmly, used this time to lift my eyes (barely) to Himself; to illustrate in living color my need to seek comfort from Him rather than in myself and familiar sins (it might stink, but it's warm and it's mine, as the saying goes).

Going into this move, Joel and I fully believed that this was the Lord's will for our family. We still do. In my more rational moments, I acknowledge the great blessing that is living so close to (actually, with) family as we welcome our third child. His new job provides for me to stay home with our children, a decision we reached before knowing how He would provide. In so many ways, our current circumstance is an utter blessing. So to stretch the metaphor, we live these days with one hand on the bigger teddy bear, wondering what it's really like.

But the journey has been far more soul-baring than I ever anticipated. The past two weeks have been a mirror revealing my sinful heart, and a window into the unplumbable depths of God's grace. I wish I could convey to you in words how tender He has been with me even while I have suffered through grieving and adjusting. I'm still not there 100%. But I can testify that He did not call me to surrender my old life for the purpose of (immediately, anyway) replacing it with bigger and more dazzling blessings. No, I am persuaded that He opened my clenched fist to release what I loved, in order that I might grow to love Him more. He emptied my heart to fill it with Himself, in a way that would never have been possible while enjoying creature comforts and, you know, control over my life. And this is far more precious than whatever He has in store for us six months down the road, guaranteed.

So friends, I guess my point to all this is that when the Lord calls you to great sacrifice, or great loss, or great suffering, don't fall prey to the theology that paints God as a cosmic genie and one who seeks to bless you in solely human terms. You will come away sorely disillusioned. Sometimes He blesses us in ways that are easy for our eyes to see. But at other times, the blessing is in the pain that drives us to greater intimacy with our heavenly Father, whose greatest desire is to fill us, not only or always with milk and honey, but with Himself.

This is probably not anything new or particularly illuminating for all of you who have surpassed me already in Christlikeness (I can be a little slow), but for me it's transformational. And in some ways, the cartoon above is accurate, if you look at the bigger teddy bear as simply, generically, "what I know is better for you", not necessarily something that will look more appealing in the moment. I can be ornery toward Facebook-promulgated "Christian" things, but I try not to be unduly so. What is right on the mark is Jesus' gentle urging to just trust God's provision.


To my old life: I still miss you. I will always miss you. Lancaster County might be my geographical and cultural soulmate. See: Achenbach's pastries, whoopie pies, canning applesauce.

But in the words of a hymn that has grown sweeter to my heart of late:

"I do not ask to see the way my feet would have to tread,
But only that my soul would feed upon the living Bread.
Tis better far that I should walk by faith close to His side;
I may not know the way I go, but oh I know my guide.

And if my feet would go stray, they cannot, for I know
That Jesus guides my falt'ring steps as joyfully I go.
And though I may not see His face, my faith is strong and clear,
That in each hour of sore distress my Savior will be near.

I will not fear, though darkness come abroad o'er all the land,
If I may only feel the touch of His own loving hand.
And though I tremble when I think how weak I am, and frail,
My soul is satisfied to know His love can never fail."

["His Love Can Never Fail," E.S. Hall]

My prayer today is that the Lord would be made greater in my weakness, and that I would not grumble too loudly for Him to be heard. And that I would always be willing to give up my teddy bear to draw nearer to my Savior. Soli deo gloria!