Washington, D.C.

We decided to check something off the, "We want to do this while we are living here," list, this weekend so we loaded the kids up on Friday, John took the day off work, and we drove the "4 hour" turned 6 hour drive to Washington, D.C.

 

There were a couple of bonuses going up there, too. We were able to snag a bit of time with our friends the Clements and their wonderful family.

Left to right: Liam (5), Rosie (17 months), Bryant (4), Stuart (2 1/2), Eva (3), Hosanna (just a few weeks!!), Aubrey (6), and Emmett (10 months). If you are counting that is 8 kids ages 6 and under.

 

 The other bonus was that we were able to see and stay with our friends Orion, Nina and their sweet daughter Annie, who we failed to get a picture with because of our exhaustion. Friend fail. They were the most gracious hosts, Annie was the most excellent sharer of all her special toys, and we thoroughly enjoyed our time with these dear people. Oh, and did I mention they totally watched the oldest 3 while John and I snuck into D.C. by ourselves???!!! Yep. They did.

Here are my dates for the day. Pretty good looking dudes if you ask me.

 "Hi, my name is Emmett, and I have quite a few teeth. And I like to cheese it for the camera."

 The Jefferson Memorial way out there. We took the train in which provided some really nice conversation opportunities without the stress of navigating the very busy capitol. But that also meant we weren't going to see everything because we (I) didn't want to walk that far this time.

 This was my favorite memorial. I got choked up as we walked up to it and then it didn't get any better as we continued around. There happened to be a huge group of veterans that had gathered here. Most of them were in wheelchairs with their hosts pushing them from behind. We were fortunate enough to shake the hands of a couple of them and thank them for their sacrifice and service.

 Around the front of the memorial they had carved out these scenes of the war. I kept swallowing hard as we looked at the images.

 This one meant a lot to me that they would have it on there. My grandpa was a farmer who desperately wanted to serve his country as a soldier. But the country needed him, the farmer, so he stayed. He always wished he could have served in a different capacity (one that didn't receive glares, stares, and horrible comments) and I wish he could have seen that he was recognized for his contribution on this memorial in Washington.

 This depicted an engine room on a ship; I imagined my Uncle Shannon there as an engineer.

 And the pilots. I imagined my Grandpa Petersen, who joined because his brother (Shannon) had been taken as a P.O.W. and he wanted to do something to help his brother.

 Where Uncle Shannon was taken as a prisoner of war. He spent 3 1/2 years in a Japanese prison camp.

 This guy showed up to speak to the veterans. (His name rhymes with Polin Cowell.) I was a nerd and took his picture.

 We moved on to the Korean War Memorial. It was eery and sobering.

 I didn't take any pictures of the Vietnam Memorial out of respect to the men who were there remembering and grieving their losses. I saw 3 men at the wall with their heads down and then one of them picked his head up and began telling his son the stories of his buddies who didn't come home with him.

The Lincoln Memorial. I really don't know what else to say about the wonder of seeing this for the first time.

 

 John said it well when he said, "Being here makes you want to do something great."

I had high hopes for our time in D.C. and I was not disappointed. I am looking forward to the next time. Maybe not the drive, though.

My Detrimental Relationship

One week ago today I left facebook. Good grief, that sounds ridiculous. But it's the best way to say that because it was a toxic relationship.

This is not the first time I have deactivated my account. But as I have very little self-control in this particular area of my life I do believe this will need to be the last time. I have not completely deleted it yet because I hope to collect some of my ramblings and make sure I get contact info for friends on there.

Here is what I miss, one week in:

.....


Here is what I don't miss, one week in:

1. The, "I'll quickly pop on to see what clever postings my friends have on there," that turns into 30 minutes or more.

2. The discontent that I feel after I read about other people's wonderful, perfect lives. This is not what they are communicating, by the way, but what I take away. Their pretty white smiles, their children with combed hair, their fitness regimes that I cannot.keep.up.with. Their houses, their friends. Their lives.

3. Even when they talk about their troubled days I take away how witty and clever and full of grace they are as they deal life's hand. Again, this is not what they communicate.

4. Feeling like I know everything about everyone and nothing about anyone all at the same time.

I almost put in the "what I miss" category that I miss out on the sweet pictures of friends and their families. But what I hope can happen is that I will make a more concerted effort to actually see those friends face to face.

And I want to be consistent in writing this blog, instead of writing whatever thought pops into my head in a moment on Facebook. I began this blog for family far away; I continued this blog as my journal to my family. Facebook provided an outlet for me to "feel" connected to the rest of the world but what I found is that I felt like an outsider, even then, and began to feel disconnected with the life around me.

It came down to my lack of self-discipline. But it has been a blessing, this week without my good friend FB. The withdrawal has been much less painful than I anticipated. So I will forge ahead into the land of...music, games, dance parties, painting projects, sewing, baking...sans Facebook.

The Barque Eagle

We went on a little family excursion this last weekend to tour the Barque Eagle. John spent a summer at the Academy sailing across the ocean on this large sailing ship. He stopped in Portugal, France and Ireland. It was fun to come back 13 years later (!!) and explore part of Daddy's past.

Touring the Barque Eagle, where John spent a summer at the academy

The kids were intrigued, Bryant in particular.

Daddy telling tall tales (or more likely explaining what the equipment is onboard) to his admirers.

We finished the morning with a stop at Krispy Kreme Donuts and a nice, quiet, nostalgic drive home.

Fun kids climbing on a cannon

Our boys. Full of adventure. And occasional mischief.

This is what happens when you don't monitor the boys in your jetted tub. Those aren't bubbles, that is my shampoo. Turned into bubbles.

I love this kid. He does not stop moving. Ever. Even in his sleep. 

It's only a matter of time until I figure out how to scale this gate, Mom.

 

We are entering a whole new season with Aubrey. She has outgrown so many little girl-type tendencies (like throwing fits and full dependency on me). So in that way she seems all grown up. But then she still gets super excited about a cheerleading costume, her dolls, pink and sparkles. And I believe that is God's grace to me. She is still so innocent and pure in who she is. And in that way she still seems like my little girl.

She is growing up. In a wonderful sort of way.

My heart is full. My body is tired. But my heart is full. And that is what matters more.

To My Children...

When I was a little girl and I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up I knew from the very beginning that I wanted to be a mommy. We were in the age of little girls growing up to do all sorts of other things so if I felt the asker wanted a more "professional" answer I would say something like I wanted to be a secretary. But it was always "mommy," first.

So when I say God has blessed me abundantly more than I deserve I mean He has given me my hearts' deepest desire, to be Mommy to four amazing kids.

One thing I don't want to do as I journey down this road of motherhood is to present my life as if everything has gone as it did in my head, when I was dreaming of being a mommy.

Instead of travelling down this road gracefully I find myself fumbling and then stumbling and on not-so-rare occasions falling flat on my face in front of you, my darling babies. And I am always just a little stunned by my failure. The thought comes to me, "That went differently in my head." Meaning, when I dreamed, and dream, about my role as mommy I am quick to serve, quick to sympathize, quick to scoop up and hug, snuggle, and kiss any boo-boo, hard time or bad dream away. And I am always slow to anger.

But reality kicks me in the behind and I find myself being reluctant to serve, hesitant to sympathize, and exhausted from hugging, snuggling and kissing those hard times away. And frustrated that sometimes you *gasp* aren't soothed immediately by my selfless acts of servitude.

Here's the thing. One thing I assumed as I dreamt those years ago about being a mommy was that I would magically become someone I have never been good at being. Selfless.

I want to pour my life out serving you; not the 'at-your-beckon-call' kind of serving, but in the teaching and training kind of way. I desire nothing else on this earth but that you four precious people will understand how much Jesus loves you and how desperately you need Him. But I find myself getting in the way. I find that I am daily brought low by the glaring truth that I desperately need Him. Because I stink at being your mommy. I desperately need Him to make me un-selfish. And you seem to be the tools He is using to mold me in that way.

So when I fumble and stumble and fall the absolute best I can do is crawl back up onto my feet, brush myself off, and be real with you. This is what I do. And this is why I desperately need Jesus. And this is why I am so very glad He loves me anyway. And His mercies are new each and every morning; great is His faithfulness. And I will learn some more and try again. In hopes that you will see your broken mommy kneeling with her heart (where you are) in her hands, holding it up to Jesus, Healer and Maker of all things new, and you will want to do that, too.

P.S. I love you to pieces, my beautiful princess, my strong-man, my tender warrior, and my crazy little mister. You really do make my heart smile.

Some of our Favorite Visitors

Nana & Papa flew out as a surprise for the kids to end the summer. They went to bed and the next morning they woke up to Nana & Papa sitting on the couch. And the fun began...

 

We went to Busch Gardens to celebrate and the kids loved experiencing the rides.

 This is what having many kids in an amusement park trying to eat lunch looks like. "Vacation," really means work harder than you ever have to work on a daily basis to make some memories. But it's worth it. And do you notice that Nana & Papa's side of the table is a little full?

 Mr. E will always go to Daddy. No matter what. He will high-tail his way to Daddy when he sees him. Peas in a pod, these two.

 We love Papa.

 I asked Mom if she could get me some parsley from the backyard. This is what she brought in. Welcome to the South, Mom & Dad!

 The evening is not complete without roasting s'mores in the backyard with our jammies and goggles on.

 "Cheese!"

We went to the Botanical Gardens before saying goodbye to Papa. This butterfly was pretty spectacular.

 But not as spectacular as these guys...

 

 When watermelon is involved it really is pointless to try to get a decent picture.

 The morning after Dad left Stuart woke up and said, "Where's Papa?" I said he went on a plane back to Oregon. He goes, "No, let me check." And he went and opened the front door and garage door to look for Papa. It might be worth mentioning that Stuart was there when we said goodbye to Papa at the airport. I think he was just living in denial.

Mom stayed a few extra days and was major help in getting these 4 little ones out the door to the first official day of school. We are homeschooling but we meet with a bunch of other families on Thursdays. This was the first of those days.

Aubrey, on her first day of 1st grade wants to be a gymnast when she grows up.

 I'm not counting this year for Bryant. Mostly because he is 4 years old and, seriously, he just shouldn't be growing up so fast. On his first day of school he wants to be a daddy who works in the Coast Guard.

 

 Nana asked Stuart what he prefers being called, Stuart, Stu, Stu-ey. He smiled and said, "Stuey Bear." He isn't actually in any class, he goes to the nursery. But he did get his own backpack and lunch to carry in so that pretty much is the same thing. :)

 This was the best picture I could get of my favorite kids on the planet. Keepin it real.

Mom left this morning. I'm trying to make the best of that. Virginia feels pretty far away right now.

Thank you again, Mom & Dad, for your sacrificial love that you say isn't sacrificial. But I'm pretty sure not sleeping, being jumped on, pulled on, summoned in the middle of the night, and not watching your favorite football games because you're watching Curious George is a sacrifice of some small measure at least. The fruit you are producing is immeasurable, though. And I think that's what you're probably saying. We all, every one of us, love and miss you.