Sweet Mom

Okay... so I probably should have mentioned this previously... but in my defense, it is a hard thing to discuss because it makes me sad.

My precious mother... the punky lady who can rock a hot pink spike in her hair, the Emme of my babies, the sweet momma who loved me though all kinds of teenage angst and quarter-life-crisis, my precious friend and confidant, was diagnosed with breast cancer in October of last year.

There were many times I wanted to write about it, but honestly, I may have been in denial. That is sorta my M.O. as I tend to put blinders on when it comes to hard situations in my life.

Anyway, my sweet momma endured 6 intense rounds of chemo and just this week had her double mastectomy and reconstruction.

Although I am not at all jealous of the war against breast cancer she has fought... I think I am going to be seriously jealous of her six pack and perky boobies!! She had a procedure where they took the fat from her belly and reconstructed her ladies. She only managed to give herself a A-B size enhancement which is sad because I could have donated some lard to get her to a good double D (and then some!) :)

Oh well...

Anyway, I am so proud of my mom. I love her spirit and the attitude that she has had through this whole process. She has praised God at every turn, remained positive even when ill and weak from chemo, and been incredibly brave despite a scary diagnosis and treatment plan.

I love you Mom, and I hope that I may face future challenges with the same strength and perspective you have exhibited. You inspire me. I love you.

Maranda

One thing

You may not know, remember or care...But I have another job outside of being a wife and rearing my precious younglings.

And precious they are...

This job is what typically causes a period of silence during the months of January to April on this blog-o-mine. This year, not only did have have my April conference to plan, but I also birthed a child, who although precious has made the past 2 months a little extra busy and sleep deprived.

"Banjo-man"

All this to say... this is why I have been a lame-o blogger of late. I hope to do better come May.

However, I wonder if I am being realistic in my expectations for myself in the coming future.

I have done this before... had the thought that if I could just change one thing in my life: lose 15 pounds, get one task off my plate, have a little more cash in the bank account, get married, have a baby,  control my appetite, have a bigger house, have a different car, get a cute hair cut, ...

The one thing changes depending upon my circumstances in a season, but I find that I am almost always looking to change something in my life that I believe will alleviate my current stress level, simplify my life, or just make me feel better.

Right now, I keep thinking that once the conference is over that I will be a more attentive wife and mother... a better friend...a better sister...a better daughter. I keep thinking about how I am going to enjoy my roles so much more once I have less stress.

And there may be some truth to that... but this side of Heaven, there's always going to be stress. Isn't stress, pain, grief, hardship just a manifestation of our longing for Heaven? A tangible ache for the loss of paradise?

I don't mean to sound pessimistic or complain that I'll never be content because I can''t manage to find balance in this life. Rather, I just want to confess that I often put my hope in the wrong things...

And after all, there is only one thing that matters.

Luke 10:41-42
But the LORD answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."


Maranda

P.S. If you want to pray for me and the conference next week... I'd covet your prayers. The event is next Wednesday - Friday in Chicago.

www.csrmsummit.org
#csrmsummit

Pants

I find myself in an epic battle.

I do not wage against flesh and blood.

Nay.

I fight against something far more evil... something of a cotton-blend variety.

That something is ... my pants.

There is no love between us. I hate all of them: My maternity jeans that are so ragged out and ripped, my supposedly "fat jeans" that I still can't get buttoned over my hips... and the most heinous of them all... my "normal" jeans that mock me from their hangers.

I hate all of them.

I broke down and bought a super large pair in hopes that at least I might be "comfortable" and perhaps avoid the muffin top effect, but even they have their fatal flaws - namely they fall down after they are are stretched out by my "dunlop."

What? You don't know what a "dunlop" is? You know... as in, my stomach "dunlopped" over my pants.

Anyway, please understand that I do appreciate the task that my body went through to produce these 4 precious children, I honestly can accept some flab, stretch marks, widened hips... I get it, and I am grateful that my body was healthy enough to carry a baby - especially when my heart breaks for those who cannot or struggle to.

It's not that I cannot appreciate my body in it's current state, it's just that I really, really want some pants to fit me.

6 weeks post delivery, I am slowly coming to terms with the reality that I've reached the plateau. Delivery of the tiny tenant and nursing has done all it can do for me, and now I am going to have to get a bit engaged in this process.

Oh, how I stink at discipling myself in the area of food. And it is conceivable that I am even worse about exercise than I am about eating right.

Alas, I hear rummors that when people do these things consistently that they don't fight with their pants... at least not quite so much.

Maranda

This will be quick...

I am tired.

I have 4 kids.

I guess this is reasonable.

Here are my four kids with my husband on the couch.

I think we need a bigger couch.

.

.

.

.

.

We had a very kid-centric day today. We went to one of those indoor play facilities for no joke, about 4 hours.

It was epic.

Since we'd basically blown nap/rest time and praying if we kept everyone moving for a few more hours we could score an early bed time, we decided to press on with the fun and took the kids for Fro-yo.

Chilli bean and Jenkins could not be bothered to pose for a picture... there were jelly beans and fro-yo present.

Here is Jenkins' opinion of a licorice jelly bean.

Chilli bean wanted to make sure Daddy wasn't holding out on her. She was fond of any jelly beans... regardless of their flavor.

.

.

.

.

.

The baby boy shall now be referred to as "Banjo" thanks to the social security administration who sent me his card with his name misspelled.

Really?

Really.

And the worst thing is, I get to spend several hours at the social security office with confirmation of birth forms, hospital bills, etc... because of their error.

Good thing I have tons of time on my hands.

Anyway... Banjo is dang cute... and is already 1 month old!

.

.

.

.

.

I braved a walk with all 4 this week around our neighborhood.

At some point along the way, I decided to make it a "nature walk" and encouraged Sassy to pick collect some specimens.

She made the following upon our return home.

I should probably rotate that for you... but it would take too much time. So you'll just have to turn your head sideways to read her sweet handwriting labeling each of her items.

Jenkins also collected some "nature" items.

He was not interested in the labeling, and preferred to just fill my coat pockets with his treasures.

Love him.


Maranda

The little man

I'm utterly miserable 39 weeks prego as of yesterday.

I guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but the midwife got me all excited on Tuesday telling me that I was 4-5 cm dilated already and that I should expect to have this baby any minute.

Why do they do that to me? Get my hopes up?

Sigh.

It's fine... I mean, I want the baby to come when he's ready, but I am sorta starting to feel like he might be stalling. I have been having contractions for days... days I tell you!

If I make it to Monday's appointment, I really think I have earned a few more centimeters of dilation and I think that I should pretty much be able to sneeze at this point and pop out a baby.

Seems fair to me.

.

.

.

.

.

Stop the presses...

We have an update! This post was started mere hours before I went into labor with our sweet baby boy!  I am happy to announce that our precious little man arrived at 5:48 am on Saturday, January 26 - weighing in at 7 lbs and 7 oz, 20.5 inches long.

He is a delight and so far a very chill kid, though I do wonder if he is just doing that sly baby thing where they act all tired and mellow for the first week and then show their true colors. Time will tell... but regardless, I love him so much and we are thrilled and blessed to have him in our family.

Speaking of mellow and tired... I certainly am... well, at least the tired part. Thus, I will continue this post with mostly pictures from some of the past few days.

Sassy and Jenkins came to the hospital to visit. Sassy is in love.

Eli was primarily concerned with the fact that there were graham crackers on my bedside table.

He also thought that the curtain was cool.

.

.

.

.

.

Can I just tell you once again how amazing this woman is...

My mother-in-law, Debbie.

She is an absolute angel.

Not only did she come to help me out the last week of my pregnancy, but then she stayed at our house and wrangled 3 wild critters, BY HERSELF, while we were at the hospital. She truly is incredible and you have never met anyone with such a generous, considerate, loving spirit. Thank you so much Debbie... I love you dearly.

.

.

.

.

.

Here we are...headed home from the hospital. 

So precious and wee.

.

.

.

.

.

The kids made an adorable sign to welcome their new little brother. 

I still haven't taken it down. 

.

.

.

.

.

Chilli, the baby lover of the family is so excited to have this new little doll. She keeps saying, "BeeBee! BeeBee Bruder!"

Sassy, and consequently Chilli, began begging me to let them feed the baby. Sassy was particularly distraught that she did not have the proper "equipment" to feed him, so I being the wonderful engorged mother that I am, pumped for them.

I made their day. 

I'm happy to report that Mr. Jenkins is now acknowledging his brother's existence, however, he is not nearly as enamored with him as the girls are.

He did engage in a little game of "doctor" with his sister.

The report was positive. He is in fact a baby.

Nurse "purple kitty" concurred.

That is all for now. I hope to post more pictures in the coming weeks, but I also hope to sleep... and I'm not too sure either will happen.

Maranda

Chuck Morris

Mr. Ben, our beloved basement tenant who recently acquired a feline, has been in Uganda for the last week. We miss him, but are excited that he is getting to teach and train pastors seeking to learn more about God's word and theology.

In his absence, Sassy has been charged with attending to Chuck Morris.

As you can imagine, this is hardly a burden for her.

Although, I'm pretty certain Chuck is quite eager for his "daddy's" return.

Honestly, the cat is quite compliant. And although there are times when I can tell he is "over" being a baby doll, in general, he has proven to be a very good playmate.

When he is agitated, I feel like he tends to take out his frustrations by being obnoxious.

For example blocking Brent's view of the football game.

Or hiding in a closet for so long that we fear some child has released him outside. We were so panicked the other night I was practicing my speech on how I was going to tell Mr. Ben that I managed to lose his new cat. 

We found the rascal a few hours later in Chilli's closet. 

My personal favorite was finding him on my dish drying pad...

...because that's not disgusting.

I caught him on the counter again the other night literally chewing on the handle of the spray bottle I use to shoo him off tables and counters.

He's bold.

But, again, he puts up with a lot.

This is the "bed/cage" Sassy made for him. It is complete with a cage door, secured with scotch tape of course, and a sign she commissioned me to write stating: This is Morris' home while Mr. Ben is away.

Mmmm....Cozy.

And I did find him in the playroom the other morning in this predicament.

So, I guess I can't blame him for attempting to escape to higher ground.

Bless his heart.

Maranda

Dance Par-tay

We had a dance party (or dance par-tay if you prefer) this evening.

Even in light of the handmade, construction paper, party hat - it probably appears like a tame event from this photo.

Don't be fooled.

"Who let the dogs out!?" was on repeat.

Sassy, not only made a hat for herself, but also one for Zelda monkey.

Mr. Jenkins and Chilli were a part of the dance party as well. Chilli had even donned a pair of ballet slippers for the occasion and Jenkins had selected a lion as a dance partner.

However, I guess at some point whilst I was twitching in the kitchen from Cotton Eye Joe and Pump up the Jam, Chilli got herself into a bit of a predicament.

At some point, I realized there was a little voice crying, "I stuck mommy"

Clearly I am a responsible and attentive mother.

Maranda