A Pic for Grandpa Coach

I Will Give You Rest

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. – Matt. 11: 28

I’m no good at resting.  I used to be. (Too good at it, perhaps.)  But somewhere between taking 22 hours my last semester of college (pregnant with Evan) and moving 6 times and starting and stopping a business and having 4 (almost 5) kids, I’ve become very bad at resting or even knowing what it looks like.  I guess I’ve taken on that thing Beth Moore calls “the captivity of activity.”  Although, I have had seasons of balance in between. 

When we lived in a small apartment and there was only so much to clean, only so many bills to pay, no pool or yard to care for and only two children, things were very peaceful.  Last year, with a baby who couldn’t get around much and an unpregnant body, things were very peaceful, as well.  But as this pregnancy blooms (and I do mean BLOOMS like a freakin’ sunflower, or a prize pumpkin, or….well let’s not go on a tangent here…) things have gotten harder, demands higher, resources less. 

Indulge me as I take just yesterday as an example.  Yesterday morning I was to have my glucose test at 7 in the morning so Shaun could watch the kids and still get to work.  I got up before dark, stood in the shower at 6-something when the air around you is still cold and light dim and not even the birds are yet talking. I found if my back was in the shower spray then my front was cold, so I began turning slowly, basting myself in the spray like a pregnant rotisserie chicken.  No, turkey. 

The morning had this eerie feeling of one back in high school, when you’re up before a lot of the world and can’t really remember why except that someone somewhere thought this would be a good idea.  It bothered me so much, was so unpleasant, this high school feeling that I decided to think of it as an early morning off to an airport instead and associate it with something of purpose and excitement.

And truth be told, once I got past the chilly, tired shower experience and was dressed and on my way out the door, into a dark, still, and cool fall morning, no traffic on the road, I did feel good.  It felt good to be a step ahead when I usually seemed one behind.  It was nice to be in no real rush and have nothing but an hour of reading ahead of me… well, and a bottle of nasty orange syrup and a syringe, yes, but this is precisely my point.  I was counting a glucose test as rest.  I could also mention that the last 20 minutes of my reading were interrupted by an elderly man with an involuntarily throat spasm that came off as rhythmic growling.  It was so pitiful and heart-wrenching that I found myself praying for him instead of reading.  I could also mention the woman who was filing her nails.  YES!  Filing her nails all over her lap in the middle of a crowded room with a constant scratch scratch scratch that made your- forgive the cliché- skin crawl.  And while I was quite irritated by her self-involvement (I’m very piously-prone like that) it was a very brief irritation that didn’t much hinder my reading or resting.

I’ve been reading Jan Karon’s beloved Mitford series.  I tried to start them awhile back but they were too slow getting into.  Too simple.  Then I read something years later- Girl Meets God by Laura Winner in which she, puzzling over the strangeness of her conversion, credits “those darn Mitford books” among the list of persuasive factors.  At that point I decided to give them another chance and am just getting around to doing so. 

This time around has been a different experience.  They’ve still been slow getting into… it took me half the book to find myself addicted.  But slow seems precisely the author’s point (if she is more than story-telling at all.)  Father Tim, the main character, is presented as a tired out clergyman who is bad at rest.  I laughed at him, initially, because I thought ‘five minutes in my shoes is busier than a week in Father Tim’s!  You think he needs a break?’  It felt a little contrived.  But as more action unfolded and more details came in and I entered the pace and age of being Father Tim in Mitford, and as the last week of my life got off to a rip-roaring violent start, I started to see her point… but more on that in a minute.

Let me first get back to yesterday which I’ve only just begun.  I came home to find everyone doing their seatwork and nothing abnormal… and then the day, like Mitford, picked up a slow pace that went something like this…

At lunchtime, after lessons and seatwork, I realized that Shaun had worship practice that night and there would be no “without kids” time to go purchase Jack some soccer cleats so the time had to be then.  After lunch.  When I like to nap.  So we loaded up and headed to Target.  On the way he announced he’d like light blue cleats because that is his current favorite color.  I tried to gently break it to him that that was a tall order and they might not make light blue cleats.  I had no idea we would traipse our way around a newly reorganized Target only to find they don’t make cleats in his size at all.  Back in the car and on down the street to Sports Authority.  Four children back out of the car and through a parking lot (which is a day’s work in and of itself, I might add,) and down an aisle to find a girl stocking the shelves with soccer cleats.  “Do you have a size 10,”  I asked her. 

“Yep- they start at a 10- these ones with light blue on the sides right here, I believe, come in a 10.”

Did she really just say light blue, I marveled.

Jack was thrilled, I bought them while warding off three voices asked me to spend chore money they had forgotten to bring with them on candy, then back to the car while talking about how wonderful it was that God had that pair of light blue shoes waiting just for him!  Which really was wonderful, by the way.  That one moment made my whole day worth it.  My whole day which I’m only just beginning in case you’re wondering what is so difficult thus far…

Well the ride home warranted two spankings for two bottoms, so there was that to deal with at home, which is never my cup of tea, then it was everyone off to quiet times, me included.  From naps was when it started going downhill, when I woke up with a headache and reflux.  I realized I never really ate lunch- a piece of pound cake and a few chips and string cheese… I think?  I can’t really remember except that whatever I did was certainly no way to follow up an orange bottle of sugar.  I find that Madalyn snuck upstairs during her quiet time and when I tell her she knows this has earned her a spanking she says she knows this and skips off to my room demonstrating just how premeditated her plan was and how she’d already counted and settled the cost.  I go to my room and explain to her that since spankings obviously are worth the disobedience she will just lose the computer for the rest of the day instead.  To this there were many protests to which I asked if she needed a spanking on top.  You know, like a cherry on top… only not.

So I had a headache and the kids were hungry and Evan said his stomach hurt some and I said mine did, too.  (It did, actually.)  And he said he had a headache and I said I did, too.  And we had a snack- more pound cake- I know.  And then they swam and we made a dinner that didn’t turn out- baked oatmeal- so we resorted to cereal and bananas.  And then they played outside.  While outside and my head continued to pound, Sam got into every toilet and trashcan from one end of the house to the other, made a lovely diaper to change and just after that was done, dumped an entire cup of water down the front of him.  I was just taking the diaper out when I found him with a permanent marker in hand in the school room and as I went to fetch it saw that Madalyn (not at all her best day) had written with permanent marker in a dry erase dot to dot book so that her beautiful art would be preserved for years to come and all generations to enjoy.  I put the marker up and continued straight on out the front door to toss the diaper.  I noticed the side fence was open and went to close it but noticed a random chair out of place in the side yard and went to put it back on the deck where I found Madalyn and scolded her and told her she would most surely be getting that spanking on top as soon as her feet landed her back inside.  Then I returned to the front to latch the fence and who do I see halfway across the cul-de-sac walking straight away from our drive but a shirtless Sam sporting football pajama pants and a Wii remote slung over his shoulder.  I knew he could open the front door, so it was my bad, but later that day he mastered the art of opening our extremely heavy sliding glass door, as well. 

The day went on in this manner and when they were all tucked in I sat down at the computer to look up some of the questions they’d been asking me as of late- specifically, how fiber optic telephone cables are buried under the ocean.  I was surprised to find myself enjoying reading about this when Evan came out whimpering, “I’m very sick.  My stomach hurts so bad… I think I’m gonna-“  And you can guess what happened next…. thankfully in the toilet.  And then again in the shower.  And so there I found myself scooping up whatever vomit wouldn’t go down the drain, spraying Lysol bathroom cleaner around his feet and telling him to get up he could absolutely not lie down in his vomit, that should be obviously disgusting and avoided at all costs and while he was at it could he please use this big cup and rinse the vomit this way. 

Normally the kids do this once or twice and it’s over, but poor boy… this bout lasted all. night. long.   

Me headache and burping and reflux was still going strong and now on top of complete fatigue and exhaustion.  Shaun came home from worship practice and was obviously exhausted, too.  We watched Netflix with a sick child trying to beat each other to the bowl every time he made a move.  Eventually he fell asleep only for us to leave long enough for him to vomit on the carpet.  Then he was on the floor of the bathroom then on the couch in our room where he learned to master the art of making it to the bowl.  He was brave and only towards the wee hours of morning did he get fed up with the whole thing and start to complain and cry.  Today he’s keeping water down and we’re all doing a bit better somehow despite the rest.

ANYWAY- you have these stories yourselves, I know.  But it was after all of this, after tossing and turning and wondering if my house would ever get mopped again, wondering what I would do if everyone got sick at once… what if this happened with a newborn and an 18 month old… what if, what if… and then back to praying and not getting ahead of myself and feeling guilty for fretting and complaining and not being a general saint… it was after all this, that I sat by Evan on the couch this morning and read some of my Mitford book- reading being something I never do on a morning with kids around- and it was relaxing.  And, (the irony!) I was reading about a character being scolded for not resting. 

I began to think on how God seems to work by themes in my life.  Shaun and I both need to learn to rest right now.  I haven’t quite thought yet on the how… but my attention has been called to the importance of it.  It’s so easy to think the right thing is serving, serving, serving… and then feeling guilty for snapping at someone or having a bad attitude about serving… and then you realize that- of course you are- because you haven’t rested and have little resources to draw from.

It’s easy to browbeat yourself with that “it’s all relative” thing:  I should suck it up and be patient and calm because at least I have a bed to lay my head on and food to eat and a family who is generally healthy… so many live such hard lives, I really should get over myself and my needs…

But in my Mitford book, Father Tim’s bishop scolds him, I’m not interested in the boy, or in any other condition or circumstance that presently exists in your life.  That sounds cold and hard, but it’s neither.  You are my interest… and you’re exceedingly valuable to this diocese, and I very much want to keep it that way… you’ve always known how to take card of everybody and everything but yourself.  I can say that freely because I am afflicted with the same weakness, and trust me, it is a weakness… if you’re going to extend your life in the body of Christ, Timothy, you must act at once to restore, revive, to refresh your energies.

At first I didn’t think much of those words but the Spirit called me back to read them again… I’m of no use to Him if I’m fatigued, and it shouldn’t be that way because He promises us rest and shows Himself willing to give it.  Father Tim is also told, Bodily fatigue… can wear down the spirit.  And how can the Holy Spirit work with a vessel that’s leaking as fast as He can fill it?

“To whom much is given much is required.”  I have been given much.  I have no good excuse for not working rest in somewhere and for playing the guilt game when that’s not what God gives.  I have been given much to give much and I am abusing that opportunity when I play the relativity game.

So, I know only one thing more as I write this.  I know that when I’m done nursing this next sweet babe, be it a year from now, Shaun and I are taking a mini-vacation where we will read and eat and sleep.  But in the meantime, I am going to try to learn to rest.  I am going to keep reading and maybe make a cup of tea now and then.  I’m going to try to sleep a little earlier and fret a little less… and mostly, I’m going to pray about it and ask the Lord to make a way for rest. 

(All pointers and suggestions welcome.)   For in theory this sounds lovely, but as I was typing this last sentence Sam came in spraying Febreeze all over himself and my back.  Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." – Matt. 19:26

More McDonnell Faces!

The Missouri family was in town last week.  Well… some of them.  The 2nd Generation, as I think Tim calls the younger ones.  They went to Disney and the beach and we spent a good three days swimming with pretty Florida weather on full display.  They may technically be aunts and uncles, but Molly, Matthew, Michael and Shaelyn are the closest they have to cousins so far, and they had a great time playing together.

From the Grandma Cam:

Grandma and Dadaddy had their regular “family night” at our house while babysitting so Shaun and I could go to our new church’s “Party with the Pastors” dinner.  They made family trees and talked about Ephesians 1: 5-6:  In love ⁵he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— ⁶to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves.

Then Evan taught everyone how to play “Apples to Apples.”

Sam kept Uncle Brendan entertained.

 

When grandma comes around I actually end up IN pictures.

Can’t believe she was a baby when we were engaged and a quick 10 years later, look at her! 

 

Her Special Night

 

Didn’t get any pictures with daddy because when he arrived they were in a rush.

And it was a good thing to have not paused for pictures because first stop she stepped into dog droppings and they had to buy wipes in a 7-11 and spend some precious moments tending to that mess.  Not a glamorous start to her evening.

 

But then there was ice cream and movie and all was well again.

 

Speaking of messy situations, that was exactly what she proclaimed something the other day, which made me smile, because it was used as a description for something ordinary, like playing a game or doing a craft and she said (mostly to herself) “well this is a messy situation.”

She says lots of “adult” things.  She loves to file away big words for later use, which don’t always come back out the right way like Amy in Little Women, (and like her mother.)  She’s recently used words like fabulous, transform, creative, style… and I wish I’d written down the countless others I neglected to record before it started to strike me as uniquely “her.”

When she was swimming a few weeks ago she began demonstrating all of her tricks for me, as she is only too happy to do.  One of them she named “the bikini squat.”

When we were playing Mad Libs she had to fill in a blank with a body part and promptly answered “uterus!”

 

She recently couldn’t think of something she was trying to say and began tapping her temple thoughtfully, then she looked at me and said, “when I tap my finger on my head like this it means I’m telling my brain- now go, brain, go!  Think, think, think!”

A few months ago we had this conversation:

Her:  “I save the goodest for last, isn’t that a good idea?”

“Mm-hm!  But goodest isn’t a word: best.”

“But sometimes I eat the goodest first.”

“Best.”

“I just can’t get the hang of that.”

And part of me is glad she can’t, and that she still says “aminal” for animal most times.

This special night was weeks ago, actually, and the other night she and I had one and we stayed home and painted nails, watched a movie, and consumed a lot of Krispy Kreme donuts that daddy brought home for us. 

There’s just something about carefully pinching donuts with freshly painted nails and your favorite girl.  I am so thankful for her and her sweet little soul. 

And when yesterday she prayed during school:  Dear Lord, please give all the poor people all the money they need and things they need and take away the sick people’s hurt and comfort all of them and help us to have wisdom and responsibility and orderliness and self-control, I just love You so much and I will always, always, always believe You,”  I found my eyes wet and my cup running over.

God is so good, and I will always, always, always believe.

27 Weeks

 

Nearly 28 weeks along now, which will put us in the final trimester already!  The last Babycenter.com update:   

This week, your baby weighs almost 2 pounds (like a head of cauliflower) and is about 14 1/2 inches long with her legs extended. She's sleeping and waking at regular intervals, opening and closing her eyes, and perhaps even sucking her fingers…

Super Mario Swim Party

 

Very proud to be 8.

 

If you look closely in the first of the two above, you will see Madalyn being a “clapper” plant coming out of the pipe ( which is what the kids call the Venus Flytrap-ish plants on the game.)  They were delighted with these construction paper cut-outs.  I had no idea how happy they would make them- probably the cheapest thing I did.

  

 

Fighting off a turtle…. being a turtle…

Taunting a turtle.

   

Cupcakes and party favors

 

Inside the question mark boxes were Yoshi egg cookies (Madalyn was quick to point out that the dots were way too small) and star cookies.

 

And cotton candy.

Evan had daddy burn a copy of the computer game he designed all by himself for each family to take home.

 

He even dictated instructions for me to type for the inside of the game case.  I think this was the most exciting part of the party for him- giving these away after all of endless hours of working on them.

These were supposed to be mushroom cupcakes but Madalyn was also quick to point out that the dots should be flat, with the red, not raised like marshmallows.  I’m so glad I have her around to insult instruct me.

I was also told (Evan) that there must be a few extra life (green) mushrooms and had to throw some in at the last minute.

This is where there were eventually grilled hotdogs and fruit salad and pasta salad.  Evan instructed me on precisely where to tape each construction paper decoration- the Goopa above was to be exactly on the left of the wall, not center, not on the right.  I’ve never had such opinionated party help in my life! 

But the guests came and swam and all piled on the trampoline and then back to the pool again… and had a general blast with no help from the adults at all. 

 

Here are the little girls trying to pull the big girl in… they desperately wanted Ally IN, but she found it a tad cold.

Ally is a very patient, sweet girl.  So much so that she still gave Madalyn a box of her favorite old reading books even after this incident.

   

This is Sam leaning in to give Evan a kiss.

Reciprocation. 

Evan taking time out from the party to tell daddy something.

 

“Blow, don’t spit!”  Shaun and I chant in unison.

 

And he did just that.  Because he’s 8 now.

 

The gift from the Bates family was a huge hit because they wrapped box inside of box inside of box to prank him…

They’re all at an age where they think pranks are the coolest, so everyone got a good laugh every time yet another box was revealed instead of the gift.

 

In the smallest box was money.  (All he asked for was enough money to buy Super Mario Galaxy 2, so there were lots of money gifts for him to combine and do that.)

Like I said, everyone got a kick out of it.

Honey and Poppy gave him the game “Apples to Apples” and a pair of Walkie Talkies, which was his other request. 

Luke and Emory gave him a very detailed, animated card and an exploding science experiment to do later… what 8-year-old boy doesn’t love an explosive gift?

Ahh, but the best part.  Evan and his boys discussing the game he created and that they’re taking home.

 

Party favors.  And that was about it.

 

Followed by Sam doing a mighty nice job of putting the leftover cokes away.  (After first taking them out and dancing in the ice water.)

  

And daddy playing with Walkie Talkies with Evan.

 

And Jack breaking his sucker.

And Madalyn sharing her sucker.

Which went on for some time. 

The end.