“Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean,
but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox.” Prov. 14:4

Brent calls me from work sometimes and chipperly asks, “How’s it goin’?”

I pause. Take a deep breath, and say

“Great!”

And the only explanation I can ever come up with for how my day is going, is that it’s going like the day of a homeschool mom with four kids, a puppy, and a busy business. And I absolutely always follow that up with an, “but I’m not complaining.”

Because I’m totally not. And because I realize that one day I’m probably not going to remember exactly what goes on in the household of a family with lots of littles, I’m going to simply record the events of yesterday.

And average “boring” day in our house.

On the days that Brent and I don’t get up early for coffee, it always starts the same:

Barking. Yapping. Crate rattling.

We have an early riser, and God bless her, it’s not the puppy.

It’s Ezra. I couldn’t even tell you what time he wakes up, because no matter what time I get up, he’s already up. Usually with no pants on because he almost never makes it to the potty in time first thing in the morning.

And because his sweet little self is trying not to wake up the sleeping bears in the family, he heads downstairs and wakes the sweet little puppy up instead. And then she wakes us up. It’s the morning ritual.

It’s not always me that gets up first, but yesterday it was. Evie woke up and Brent needed more sleep, so she and I headed downstairs to let puppy out. All the other kids were already awake and involved in some sort of activity downstairs.

Sent someone out with puppy and leash, changed diaper, looked at kid drawings, bandaid-ed booboos, etc. Tried to start on coffee. Realized that we had no bagels. Started on some gluten free corn bread, since two of us can’t have wheat right now. Emptied dishwasher and Charis scrambled eggs while I started on a batch of spelt bread. (Am I the only one who gets this super mom attitude and crosses all things “bread” off of the grocery list with the full intention of doing all of the baking for the week? Someone slap me!)

Brent came downstairs just in time for breakfast and coffee. (Bless the Lord. Coffee!)

I went upstairs to put Evie down for a nap. She gave me a little fight, but eventually I emerged victoriously. And fully dressed.

My favorite skirt is very Bohemian style and rips easily, unfortunately. Since I have people tugging on my skirt all day, I have to make repairs. I was sitting and stitching these up, determined to look presentable, when Brent left with all the other kids for some errands. I had requested everyone leave so I could clean the 2 inches of dirt off of our floors. (This is what happens when you have a puppy and have to pull all of the area rugs off the floor. My first line of defense at each outside door has been removed.) I also had a large batch of Bamboo Charcoal I hoped to knock out. And that bread that I had started was on it’s first rise.

Quickly (but cautiously, duh) I mixed up the lye and water for the soap batches. (In case you are curious, I make the soap by what we call “rounds”. It’s not really round like the shape, but “round” in like boxing terms. Each round fills one mold which makes three logs, which is 60 bars… So, I was doing four rounds, which is 240 bars. Since I’m not strong enough to life a pot of 65 some odd pounds of soap, I have to split it all up into four different pots. Don’t worry, we have a good system and it’s not nearly as complicated as it sounds. But I also have to do the lye in four parts as well. And I wear a gas mask, a lab coap, an apron, and of course, my cutest skirt.)

By the time I got the lye mixed, Evie had woken up. She wasn’t feeling well, I could tell.

Put her back down and chatted with a friend on the phone while I did the dishes. Both sides of the sink were loaded. That happens when you spend an entire day prepping for and then selling at a farmers market the day before. And when you refuse to use paper plates.

I had to empty at least one side so that I could wash the soap from the previous soap making day out of my huge 16 quart pots. I also needed a side of the sink clear for mop water. So, I had to do the dishes in order to make soap or mop. Clear as mud?

Did I mention that I had bread rising? And a sickly baby sleeping? Oh, and a puppy.

Why haven’t I lost my mind or collapsed from exhaustion yet? It was barely 10 a.m.

Finished kitchen and heard Evie crying in her crib. Moved some furniture out, put pots back in soap room, ready to make soap and remembered Evie was crying. While finishing phone conversation I headed into the biggest poop mess I’ve ever found one of my babies in. Quickly got off phone and put Evie in the tub. It was in her eyes, on her mouth (!!!) fingers, hair. Everywhere. Her diaper (it was a disposable diaper since her cloth diapers were in the washer, thank you very much) had come half off and she’d had diarrhea. Because that’s what you do when your diaper starts to come off. And evidently you attempt to eat it too. Gross.

It took three washes, rinses, and drainings of the tub to get the mess off. By this time I was sure that Brent was ready to return with the kids and I hadn’t gotten much done. (HA! My definition of “much done” clearly needs to be refashioned, don’t you think?)

I called him and told him I was giving up. They were at the library. (We had a $13 fine.)

I positioned Evie at the train table and started to sweep the floors. Maybe I could get in some mopping before they got back? No such luck. Kids came bounding in the door and tromping through my dirt piles with great shouts of jubilation over their library finds. I smiled and sighed. I had gotten one song into my Pandora play list and one floor swept.

I clamored to try to get Brent to go read or something (he had to work that night) while I made lunch. He refused and read to the kids instead. =)

Moved all the dining room chairs BACK inside for lunch. We had cheese sandwiches on an awesome Spelt bread that had turned out beautifully despite poop explosions and what not. (My secret is to set the timer for every step of the way with the bread. Mix it, kneed it, put in microwave to rise- set timer, take it out, punch it into pans, put in to rise again-set timer. Put in oven for half of bake time-set timer, cover with foil for other half of bake time-set timer. I can even leave in the middle of this and Brent can know exactly what is going on with my timer method. I love that kitchen timer.) And grilled squash- gifted to us from a farmer at one of the markets we do.

At some point it was discovered the puppy had peed in her crate over the excitement of everyone returning home.

Brent took the big kids upstairs for naps, and Evie hung out with me on my back while I moved the furniture BACK outside and finished sweeping and then mopped. I think she slept a little but woke up crying. I sweated and soothed as I mopped furiously.

Brent left for work. Big kids still sleeping, and Evie refusing to nap.

I stuck her in her excersaucer out in the soap room while I measured up the oils into four large pots. Then we hung out in the kitchen, putting away dishes and stuff while the oils melted on the stove in turns.

Oh, I was also intermittently listening to a Mark Driscoll sermon series.

‘Cause my brain clearly didn’t have enough on it’s plate.

Ok, what next?

Evie got really fussy and I stuck her in her swing with a Baby Einstein video while I measured out essential oils and lined my molds. (I like each log of the mold with freezer paper. Otherwise the soap would stick to the wood. It takes about 30 minutes to line all 12 of the logs I was doing this day.)

At this point the other kids woke up from a very long nap. (Bless the Lord. Long naps!) They play in the back yard where I can see them from my soap table, with door and windows open. Evie got stuck in the excersaucer again out there with them. And the puppy.

I only had to leave the soap table a couple of times in order to yell, “Don’t hit the puppy with that stick!” type stuff.

This went on for about an hour while I mixed and pour the soap. It was beautiful and perfect. And my kids were soooo happy to be able to play outside on a day that it wasn’t hot as youknowwhat. I even had time to wash out all of the soap pots.

My intention from that point was to shower, do school, make dinner, and go for a quick walk before bed.

Because I’m mentally insane.

But I was really feeling  blood sugar drop and did triage on my expectations for the evening.

School boiled down to “Life of Mammals” (Which is actually highly educational. Much more so that Word World or Dora, matter of fact.) While I tried to soak in the tub. (I soaked for about 15 minutes, but Evie was desperately bored with the educational tv. So, my soaking was cut short. It occurred to me that it had been weeks since I had taken a bath. This is a cardinal sin for a soap maker. Soaking in bliss and relaxation is a job requirement. You know, product testing and whatnot.)

I managed to gnaw on an apple and was so happy to find an array of leftovers to make for dinner, since we had a cheese shortage and I had originally planned enchiladas. I can’t tell you how much a of a loser it makes me feel like to be too tired to make a yummy fresh dinner. Major mommy guilt happens here.

I think I sat down to finish the video with the kids and then we warmed up some dinner. We always eat together at the table. It’s strange that that needs to be mentioned, but this day and age, families don’t usually eat dinner together. In our house “breakfast” “lunch” and “dinner” are synonymous with “sitting at the table together”. No one wonders where we are going to sit. We all eat at the same time. Plates are fixed and held at the counter until everyone is at the table. Then each meal has an assigned waiter/waitress. (Ezra does breakfast, Chairs does lunch, Arwen does dinner.) Nobody gets seconds until Mamma and Daddy have had some time to eat a little. Period.

After dinner we played outside with the puppy some more, in lieu of a walk.

Headed upstairs, changed diaper, brushed a heck of a lot of teeth, lit our Storytime Candle and read some of our new library books.

I usually watch tv while I put Evie down. My babies do some marathon nursing right before bed. While I nursed her I heard Ezra get up about 15 times to get a drink from the bathroom sink. (Hence the peeing in his pants every morning.)

Layed Evie down and rocked a whimpering boy who claimed to be scared of the dark, but whom I think was really missing his Daddy.

Headed back downstairs with the intention of finishing my movie, but I was just to dang tired.

I went to bed at 9:30, and Brent joined me sometime after midnight when he got home from work.

And that is a day in our house. We love it.

And my stable may not be as clean as I like it. By the end of the day, my skirt had been re-ripped by a frisky puppy, my floors were dirty again, and I had a pile of poopy sheets, blankets and clothing waiting to be washed.

But there is a major abundant return on all of the hard work of training children, making soap, and loving a family all day.

(Edited to add: I totally forgot to include the crazy business call, the soap customer that came by to pick up soap, or the part where the dog somehow got her face stuck in the bars of her crate. And the sibling rivalry, nursing baby, the terrorist negotiations two year old meltdowns.  )

Anyway.

I woke up this morning with stuff to say.

Now, this isn’t a real problem for us, but occassionally when we go out I see looks of pity on people’s faces… and the comments. The comments do not get to me. (You know, “Bless your heart” type stuff. Like I’m a one legged beggar on the side of the road or something.) I’m not irritated with them or offended. I mostly just feel sorry for the people

who see dollar amounts instead of children
who treasure their decaying earthly possessions more than the eternal soul of another person
who buy big houses to store them up with lots of crap while their souls are empty
who think that because we have a “large” family we must be poor

or (almost worse) who think that we have many children because we can “afford” it.

I don’t know about ya’ll, but I grew up with only one sibling. A brother. And my parents both worked two jobs for much of the latter part of our upbringing. Eventually they had a third child and for 3 years all three of us lived under the same roof. But for most of my growing up years, there were only two of us. There were times when money was tight and my parents honestly prayed for our next meal. And then the doorbell rang and there was a sack of groceries or a wad of cash shoved in the mailbox.

I can remember my mother sweetly suggesting that we try the thrift store for back to school clothes…before we hit K-mart to spend the big bucks. I can remember doing all of the Christmas shopping for my little brother at used and second hand stores. I can remember my mamma staying up until 4 a.m., working with her hands to craft something to sell at a festival or fair that began in only a few hours. I can remember my dad trading in his own car for my bright shiny pick up truck, and not having his own car for a while because of it.

But when I look back (and I’m pretty sure I can speak for my older brother here too), I never think of “doing without”. I can’t remember the feeling of being poor or worrying over it. Our parents stressed one thing over and over again…the only thing you can take to heaven with you is people. The other stuff doesn’t matter. What’s stands out the strongest when I reminisce is the times of laughing it up with my older brother. We didn’t need toys. We had them, but our best play times were spent with a fan and a cassette tape recorder. In our underwear. (We had clothes, but being underwear super heroes was way funner.) Our house was always pretty and clean. My mamma didn’t need fancy stuff to help her clean or decorate. She made a lot of our home decor with her own two hands.

And yes, I pity the fool who works day and night to pay for the house, the car, the tv, the fancy phone, the fancy food, but would never give a second thought to having another child, or investing in life of one of the countless millions of orphans across the globe.

Pity me? Please don’t. I’m so rich! I get to build up souls for the kingdom of God, and keep these treasures this side of heaven!

When you look at your children today, see their little souls. Every word, every action, every small.little.thing.you.do matters. The dirty diapers in the night. The endless squabbles with siblings. The breakfast you cooked that everyone hated. It’s all for the glory of God and the building of his kingdom. May your words be like drops of rain on their thirsty souls today, Mammas!

This has happened before though, and I have full confidence that in a couple of months she will be found and loved again.

But for now…

(And yes, that is what it looks like under/behind my couch. Don’t judge!)

Evie was up all night (again) and Brent works the late shift today, so I had an opportunity to sleep in. Between the barking, yapping, hollering, and crying downstairs, not much rest was had.

My brain was in hibernation but I tried to get started with my day anyway. Sweet hubby made me a great cup of coffee and some gluten free peanut butter toast. And to make sure we were thoroughly exhausted we took all the kids… and the puppy… for a walk.

In a rare moment of quiet, I decided it was a good time to call AT&T since our internet was out (AGAIN). Us and AT&T have a very intimate relationship since we have nice long chats on the phone at least once every three to six months. It was a little lonely this last year, after the year before when we had long conversations about twice a month. I’m adjusting to the distance.

Absense makes the heart grow fonder, and I was overjoyed to get to speak to the automated guy this morning while the kids played outside. He was as helpful as he usually is, continually asking the same question as I persistently pressed “0”. (That’s the trick, you know, to get to a real person. Just keep pushing “0”.)

Finally I got somebody, and answered all the questions all over again…. with joy and adoration for my long lost friend, the AT&T help desk person. My love tank was filled up with an hour and a half of whispering sweet nothings into each others ears this morning.

Telling them that I had already rebooted my computer and unplugged and replugged the modem back in did not deter her from asking me to do it. AGAIN.

Then she began the mental hurdles that can only be designed to either make a person curl up in the fetal position and cry for their mamma or shout obscenities into the phone.

You know, the part where they ask you your (or in my case, Brent’s) mother’s maiden name. Then she asked me MY mother’s maiden name, I think, just for fun. Then Brent’s last four of his social, our zip code, etc. None of these magic questions were fixing my internet connection, mind you.

But when she asked me to pick from the following questions, I howled with laughter:

-       Favorite Childhood hero

-       Favorite Singer

-       Favorite Restaurant

-       And one more that I couldn’t remember.

I really wanted to respond with, “I’ll take favorite childhood heroes for 500, Alec.” But I managed to refrain and picked favorite restaurant. (In case you ever want to hack into my AT&T account, the answer was PF Chang’s.)

She seemed satisfied with that and directed me to a page where I was to enter, re-enter, and enter again a super secret password that involved lots of letters and numbers.

Now, while I was rigorously exercising my brain to answer her questions, I was doing the dishes, rotating laundry from washer to dryer, etc. She may have been on to me because she intermittently asked me if I was actually in front of my computer. A couple of times I had to hurdle a kid or two and rapidly dry my hands on my apron to type the newest mysterious code she had for me to enter into my web browser.

She put me on hold while she talked to a “specialist” and I shaved Brent’s head. In mid shave I had to toss the clippers into Brent’s lap, run across the house and into the kitchen (where the modem is) to tell her whether the DSL light was on or not. (It wasn’t, of course.)  And I may have let her think I was pulling up a new web browser page while I trimmed around his ears with the scissors.

They must really be use to dealing with a lot of morons at the helpdesk, because after I entered in the user id and the new newest password for the fiftieth time she asked me if I was putting an “@” sign and not “at” in the user name email. Umm, yeah, lady, I totally had it covered.

At this point the kids were back inside, totally finished roasting outside in the heat, and I was whispering orders to them in an attempt to get us ready for school. Of course Arwen loudly asked, “I thought we only did school on Monday!?!” To which I had to respond, “No honey, we do it every day now, like I told you yesterday.” I was sure she had written us off as weird home schoolers until she revealed that she had home schooled her own son….while he was dying from cancer. (Totally glad I didn’t go with the shouting obscenities response at this point!)

Long story short, the modem was broken. Again. But, since she was totally entertained by the conversations I had with my children in the back ground, along with my giggling over my Jeopardy joke, she gave us the hook up on a new one. But it won’t be in until tomorrow, which is why I am recording all of this in word document. Precious memories, people. Precious memories.

There was one final hoop to jump through. Modem delivery was set for overnight with UPS. “What time does UPS usually come by your house?” the help desker wanted to know. I told her it was usually around or after dinner time. She wanted to set up a time for our next date, when we could install the new modem, and wanted to know when was the best time. I told her 7 o’clock.

“So, five or six?”

“Umm. Okay. 6, I guess.”

I think it was just one more trick question to see if I was paying attention or folding laundry instead. ATT is jealous like that.

Several events led up to a huge decision in the House of Burgesses recently.

First, you may know that we HAD three (3) hermit crabs. And we kept {most of} them alive for almost two years, thank you very much. However, since hermit crabs are not able to tell me when they are hungry, thirsty, or dirty, we got a little busy, and two of them died (-2). And so did the third one a couple of weeks ago. (-1)

For a minute, I was really happy about the shelf space that got freed up by us no longer needing a crab tank sitting on it. Then my kids cried and all I could think was “Where can I get some more crabs?”

Then my in-laws came to visit with their cute little Maltese and stayed the night. She slept peacefully in her crate and lounged around most of the time. She swam in the creek with us and didn’t rank up my house afterwards. “Hmm. Not so bad,” I thought.

They also brought two hermit crabs with them. (+2)

Then there was the disappointment of a negative pregnancy test.

So there we were, our little family of 6, hanging out selling soap at the farmers market, each with the word “SUCKER” stamped right on our foreheads. And some folks brought up a litter of puppies. FREE PUPPIES.

You might also know that I am not a dog person.

I rolled my eyes when I saw my kids trot in their direction. I told my dear sweet husband that he was crazy when he suggested we bring one home.

But when I saw this?

My heart just melted. So, I threw my hands into the air and said, “Whatever.” And just like that, we had a puppy. (+1)

And of course we spent $125 on supplies for our free puppy, and new hermit crabs.

Meet Ginger. She’s a springerspaniellab.

She has peed on my floors about 7 times so far. But it’s okay, we’re totally use to people peeing on the floor, so why not a dog? They pee less than 2 year old boys, FYI. She sleeps in her crate perfectly content, and sometimes she goes in there to hide from Charis, who can be sort of “intense”. I don’t blame her. We should have gotten a large size crate and then maybe sometimes I could crawl in there with her.

While I was typing this blog I realized that one of the hermit crabs had died (-1). So, here’s “Monster”, our surviving crab in all his glory.

Me? I’m more of a people person, myself.

Arwen has grown in leaps and bounds in the past year! There is a collective sigh in our home as we realize she has abilities to do stuff. (Arwen calls them skillz.) Like, useful stuff. She dresses herself in outfits that actually match. I never thought I would see the day and had really just decided that my children inherited their father’s fashion sense.

For her birthday she wanted to go to the mall and ride the carousel and get gum balls and eat Chic for dinner. (She wondered if it was okay to sing praises to Jesus in the mall. We told her she could sing quietly. )

While we were there we bumped into some new friends who shared their own birthday celebration with us! Yay for cookie cake with friends in the mall!!

Since we stayed out late partying we had cupcakes the next morning for breakfast and just continued our celebration of our sweet Arwen girl.

Card from Charis. <3

We got her a purse so she can carry around some of her own daggum stuff.  learn how to be a little lady. And a bunch of really cute outfits. (Which, being the girly girl she is, she thoroughly exclaimed over.) And some good classic reading books.

That Saturday we skipped the farmers market and swam in the creek. I forgot my camera, so we’ll move right along to the party part.

I try my best to meet birthday cake demands requests. Arwen is turning out to be quite the big girl and did not request a pterodactyl, or strawberry shortcake. Dora was not even mentioned. She wanted a strawberry cake with white icing, a red heart in the center and chocolate covered strawberries around the heart.

She was quick to point out the creative license I took in adding sprinkles and pink icing stars around the bottom.

Arwen actually made these beeswax birthday candles herself! We did six of them and the princess crown on top was just for fun. =)

Mimi got Mary a friend!!!

Thanks Uncle Matt and Uncle Dave!

Nana got a big kick out of Arwen being about to read all of her cards herself.

MONEY!

and a badly BADLY needed art portfolio

Happy Birthday, Arwen! We love you and are so proud of the beautiful girl you are turning out to be!!

I recently heard her name somewhere or other, and I was immediately captivated. So, I googled here and there. And everything I read, I loved.

When I was first trying to decide which cloth diapers to use, I googled and researched like a maniac. And I decided I liked FuzziBunz and have been very happy with them and rarely question my decision. Four babies later, I’m using the same newborn diapers as I did for my firstborn. Like a moth to a flame, it has been the same with Charlotte Mason.

I picked up her 6 volume The Original Homeschool Series a week or so ago. These books are inspiring. Charlotte’s main soap box was that children are people with souls, deserving of our respect, and that education best happens in quality, not quantity. She makes no use of goofy crafts (can I get a “Halleluja”?) but instead encourages real life hands on learning. Text books are replaced with real life books that are beautifully written and illustrated and easy to get lost in. I was feeling so overwhelmed at the thought of having to pick out the textbooks and kits for teaching various subjects!

I’ve only been learning about this method of home schooling for the last 3 weeks or so and already feel as though I am “home”. This is it. I was totally feeling overwhelmed at the conferences, the curriculums, and the co-ops. But this? This I can do!

Truthfully, Charlotte Mason method is not simply following a book list and doing pre-sorted activities. It’s also not unschooling, as you most certainly do school with intention and purposefully plan certain activities. In my opinion, Charlotte Mason is a perfect merging of unit study, classical education, (What’s that one called where you follow the interests of the child?)–that one too.

I was pleased to find out that we had already been doing a lot of Charlotte Mason type things, since she and I are, after all, bosom buddies. Garden tending is one. Nature study is another. Reading real living books (such as the Laura Ingalls series and some others we’ve picked up). Giving kids opportunities for real life learning happens regularly around here. We don’t sit down a lot and we don’t get bored, that’s for sure.

Now, I am going to follow the curriculum for Year 1 at Ambleside Online with Arwen.

Basically, every day we practice penmanship, reading, and math (We do Saxon Math, she’s halfway through Math 1. It’s not perfect but all I needed was a guideline for what math skill to teach next.) Weekly activities are nature study, art (there is an artist to be learned about each term, and my understanding is that all “grades” are studying the same artist at the same time, so this is easy for large families), music (same as art, composers are shared amongst “grades”), and handicrafts (as in real life handicrafts, not gluing a bunch of pretzel sticks and elbow noodles onto a piece of paper. I’m going to have to experiment to see what Arwen can do…knitting? sewing? needlepoint? We’ll see.) And then there is a weekly book list (for history and literature and all that stuff), and the great thing about Ambleside is that many many many, and a whole lot, of the books are available online and for free!

According to Charlotte Mason, lessons should be no longer than 10-20 minutes, and you break up times of reading with times of practicing penmanship, then more reading, then some math work, then more reading, then art/music, or whatever. The idea is that learning doesn’t take place at the table all day long. You might take your books outside, and you most certainly are going to be doing lots of nature walks (for free, I’m going to use the Botanical gardens here in B’ham).

For the first couple of years of course, I’ll be reading with Arwen. It’s encouraged that you instruct your children to illustrate their lesson or even act it out afterwards. From what I’ve read and seen so far, this happens naturally. You really don’t have to ask them to tell you what they’ve learned because they naturally incorporate it into their play. And if they want to glue noodles and pretzel sticks onto paper to illustrate what they’ve learned, that’s fine too.

I’m also learning to eliminate “twaddle”. More on that later.

So, today someone posted a link to some awesome color sheets to print out and color. They were great and the kids and I immediately got started. Get yours here by the way.

While we colored, we listened to Australian folk music on Pandora (Charlotte was really into folk music. I’m not sure why, but since she’s my new best friend, I’m just going with her on this one until I learn more.) THEN, during nap time I found this cool Australian story book, also online for free, and Arwen and I ate up the first chapter! While we read, we talked about what the “bush” is, and the book is filled with rich literary terms and I could just SEE her brain growing while we read. And who knows what else we’ll find to learn about Australia.

So, for now, we are freestyle Charlotte Mason. But once I get my hands on some of the books I need for Year1 at Ambleside Online, we’ll be all hands on deck.

I have found my home school chi.

Brent and I are learning about hard work, ya’ll. I thought that I knew a definition of “exhausted”  but I’m finding out I hadn’t quite experienced bone deep exhaustion.

And truth be told, we’re loving {almost} every minute of it.

It feels really good to be successful at something and know that it took a lot of hard work to get there. (I think this may be the definition of the good kinda “pride”.) But the hard work part gets tiring, and it can be really discouraging when you don’t quite see the fruits of your effort yet. Occassionally you lose sight of what it is you are even working towards.

For the most part, this summer has been a blur of farmers markets. In between the hours in the heat at some pretty busy markets we’ve been attempting to shepherd our children’s hearts and continue to run our home in a nurturing way.

It’s fun and the kids are getting some fantastic life experiences and adventures that we hope they’ll remember for the rest of their lives. But on the grown up level, it’s been extremely challenging. Juggling lots of littles in the heat for several hours while also trying to answer questions about soap and make sales… Shoot, for one market, just the road trip to get there has the possibility of exhausting all of our patience!

But we’ve honestly been “counting it all joy” along the way.

And then all that other stuff broke. And whatnot. And we felt like we had been placed inside of a pressure cooker! Nay, a furnace. (Nay? Excuse me while I go get another cup of coffee.)

Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. We were being cooked. By the grace of God we realized it. So we counted that all joy as well. I recall telling you all that I would be back to report of God’s goodness, and I am!

We were able to take care of both van repairs, the AC repair, the new washing machine, the plumbing repair, and whatever the heck else we were facing at the time. We did it all debt free, and were able to absorb most of it into our normal budget and without touching any of the money we have been working our butts off to make to pay off our business loan. In fact, the washing machine came gifted to us from Brent’s parents! Totally unexpected!! (Thanks Nana and Papa!!!) We did have to use a small portion of our “emergency fund”, but that’s what it’s for, right?

So, what does this all have to do with jam?

Umm. Nothing really, but I can make a stretch and tell you that when you are pressed, what’s on the inside comes out.

Just normal everyday life presses us plenty, doesn’t it? Then you add a bunch of hot kids, grumpy parents, demanding customers, hunger, extreme exhaustion, and a plethora of house repairs… and you’ve just become fit for jam.

I was super tired after last night’s farmers market. I knew that the baby was probably going to keep me up all night. (Again.) I made sure to do the dishes before bed so that I was not greeted with a dirty kitchen in the morning (which is the worst way to start the day). We had the kids clean up their toys before bed so we could have  a fresh house to wake up to. We went to bed at a decent time. We made ourselves get up early for coffee and prayer together. We gave ourselves every chance at a good start.

And then there was a super annoying email to deal with. Brent left for work, and then the kids got up too early. And my quiet time has evolved into time with Ezra on my lap and  trotting up and down the stairs making the girls get back in bed so they don’t wake the baby up.

First reaction is to throw my hands up in the air and say, “Great. This day is really going to suck. I’m tired of being squeezed. God, can I just have one day of not being squeezed?? Haven’t I been working hard? Don’t I deserve a rest???”

But my husband prayed for me this morning, and I’m pretty sure he’s probably still praying (because he’s awesome like that). And I’m going to continue counting it all joy.

Today, while I’m being pressed, I’m going to count on God to continue working all things for my good, to continue keeping His promises, to continue to be faithful, and to make really yummy jam out of all this pressing.

He’s a good God. And He presses us for our own good and His own glory. What a privilege it is to be used by Him. That is what it is all about anyway.

Pour yourself out today, ya’ll. Be used. Become jam….reallly yummy jam. Not the sugar free junk. The real stuff. Guard your hearts, keep them clean and honest with the Lord. Love on your kids. Look them in the eyes and realize that they are really small persons that deserve respect and consideration. When you are tired, have a plan and just “do the next thing”.

That’s what I’m going to be doing today. =)

That’s your first hint in this game of “Where in the World is Cheeky Maiden?”

Notice I’m not the only Mamma selling at the famers market. The tent next door sells no-sugar-added fruit butters and they are awesome! (Don’t mind my expression, it’s HOT out there!!)

See? I smile when folks come up to chat or sniff. =)

And there is the whole gang. (Brent was taking photos.)

The kids pretty much treat our old car like an amusement park ride. And I love having them there with me!

So, you see, while it’s hot and it’s hard work, we still have a lot of fun. And we aren’t the only folks who like our kids enough to bring them with us.

This particular market is in Helena at a park with a trail, playground, and a cool sparkling creek just perfect for splashing in!

Romans 13:8
“Owe no one anything except to love one another, for he who loves another has fulfilled the law.”

We rather blissfully ignored this admonishment from scripture when we took on a business loan recently.

Over the last few months, we have watched our plans slowly disintegrate. What sounded like a good idea has proved to be pretty foolish. We thought we had a big account in the bag, and by a divinely orchestrated turn of events, lost it. And now we have this debt hanging over our heads.

So we decided we’d buckle down this summer and work hard to pay it off. Three farmers markets a week we are selling soap. And it’s hard work, ya’ll! Getting prepared with small children at your feet, loading the car, unpacking the soap onto the table, smiling in the heat for hours at prospective customers while also trying to juggle the kids around, packing back up, unloading the car at home, feeding everyone, etc etc. It feels like punishment. It feels like I have been locked in a dungeon and someone is demanding that I spin gold out of straw. Debt is a curse.

I do enjoy some aspects of the markets, don’t get me wrong. But we’re tired! And ironically, the harder we work, the more stuff goes wrong!!

For instance… we’ve had an AC repair, some crazy plumbing problems, water spraying from the back of the fridge, two car repairs (with another threatening), and now the washing machine is broken for good. (Did I mention I couldn’t even drive to the laundromat if I wanted and I have FOUR poopy cloth diapers sitting in the pail? And no clean dish towels?)

So you can see why I laid on my bed and cried today. =) I’m not bothering to record any of this for pity’s sake. I’m writing this down because I fully expect to come back and report the wonderful things that the Lord has done in our lives. Not to mention, we deserve the stress we are under right now.

My first reaction, really, was to call my Mamma!! But I knew that I needed to call my heavenly Father instead. I have a tendency to forget that He’s very much aware of my need and very much interested in hearing what I have on my heart. Just telling the Lord my fears, my frustrations, and my perceived inadequacies…leaning on His everlasting arms, even though He is the one disciplining… I trust Him.

We were foolish, and by His grace He is molding us and shaping us. What kind of a fools would we be if we despised the discipline of the Lord?

Job 5:17
“Blessed is the man whom God corrects; so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.”

Deuteronomy 8:5

“Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the LORD your God disciplines you.”

Proverbs 12:1
“Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid.”

Hebrews 12:5
“And you have forgotten that word of encouragement that addresses you as sons: “My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you…”

Hebrews 12:8
“If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons.”

Hebrews 12:11
“No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”

Painful is right! Every member of our family is bearing the brunt of this whole mess. And at the same time I know that Jesus will give us the grace to bear up under it all.

Moral of the story: Debt is bad. Oh, and Dave Ramsey was WRONG. Having an “emergency fund” does not create a bubble around you in which you have no emergencies. Our “emergency fund” has been really really necessary lately.