bsmiles and sunny days

Hi.  I really, really love you.

I forgot to mention the chenille scarf Dale made for Leila.  It turned out so cute.  She wore it to bed that night. So last night I made a long list of things I want to get done this week.  I'm such an overachiever that I quick did a couple of things to get them off the list before I went to bed, as if I had no time at all in the next week with no school and no other schedule requirements from now until Sunday morning.  Seriously, I am a free agent.  Know what I did this morning?  I'll give you a clue!  ZZZzzzzz  That's right.  I slept on the couch for a very long time.  Now that I'm up I think I'll make myself some breakfast and get going on the list.  If I can get it all done before the kids start back up with school, I'm taking them to Chuck E Cheese!!!  HAHA!  There's some good motivation.  I'll let you know my progress.

I will post more pictures of this sweet action soon, I just couldn't wait to share some of Dale's gifts from the homemade Christmas.  This a gocart that he made for the boys.  You can't believe how excited everyone was to ride this.  There are fights over whose turn it is everyday. He made Deisha a hat.  Isn't it sweet?  Jasmine kept sneaking away with it and wearing it when Deisha wasn't paying attention.  When the new neighbors walked by though, she ripped it off and asked me if her hair looked ok.  Where does that come from??? He also made Jasmine's scarf, and Kennedy's hat.  I  know, right?  He made me a scarf too but I don't have good picture of it yet.  You can kind of see it in the next one, but I'll post a few more so you can see the true craftsmanship.   Who knew that hulking beefcake of a man was so good with a crochet hook?  He still surprises me.

Trebo got a ripstick for Christmas.  Now, on top of wearing the helmet, the elbow pads, and the knee pads, he also walks around all day wearing a chest protector.  He also comes running in the house crying about every half hour.  He's a wild child, it's his nature.  So I don't coddle him every time he comes in the door, I just make sure he's not really hurt; usually he's not.  Then he runs back out the door to the top of the hill to give it another go.  Tough guy.  I'm sure he'll eventually go pro.  At something...

Awhile back a friend of mine made a comment about how blogging is the modern-day confessional.  People get on the page, write their secrets, their failures, their realities, and in the privacy of their own home, usually from a quiet room to a silent audience, they have this sense of relief.  I sort of resented that; it's true and  I do it, but I more consciously filter.   I want you to know that I have real problems, but I don't want you to think that it's because of me or that I am as much of a joker as I really might be. Like right now, I've been hustling around all day trying to catch up, reorganize, sort and trash this whole place.  When my kids announced that they were going to bed at 7 so they could watch movies in bed, I was thrilled.  Ecstatic, actually, at the possibility of being able to get the rest of my work done without having to trip over or physically remove children from my path.  I'm kind of wretched that way.  Only the thing is, they've been o

In keeping with our Homemade Christmas, the girls had requested some "old time" nightgowns and caps.  Initially I searched for an online pattern and planned to crank them out myself, but after some thought I decided it may be better to delegate the project.  You can see why I'm glad I did! It's a pretty common thing for my mother-in-law to make pajamas for the kids each Christmas, so when she asked if I had any ideas, I gave her this one along with a few others.  I gave this idea to my mom too because I knew they would get a thrill out of getting two different "old time" gowns, which they immediately requested the morning after sleeping in these: another one in a differen color.   Look at my little antique angels.... just dahhhling!!!  They make me laugh.  Look at all their slippers too!  Thanks Aunt April, they were a big hit! 

I can't full express my pure joy in the full appreciation I have received for making this playhouse. It really was not that much work, a few afternoons at the table with the kiddos all busily working on their projects and few evenings of handwork, but really considering the project, it wasn't too much. Here's a view from the window. Between my two girls, the sloppiest ones, they had the playhouse floor as messy as their bedroom in no time! I just snapped this from the kitchen. The apples are velcro and can go off and on. (Note to self: Next time do not attempt iron-on velcro with felt.) That tree started out so simply and then Tre joined the crafters and immediately cut a large chunk out of my pattern piece on the table. Then I cut a new one and it burned and shrank when I followed the instructions on the velcro pattern. So did the pillowcase I used between the iron and the felt. Yipes! The squirel was a fiasco too. I should've cut him out of felt, but I had some cordu

Our very first homemade Christmas went off without a hitch!!! It was a scramble there at the end, but the kids were all pleased with their homegrown surprises. Micah inadvertently requested a Scott Farcus hat, which explains this sweet expression on his face. The kids didn't start creeping into the living room until about 6:15 this morning, which was a lovely surprise. I lay in bed for about 20 minutes listening to them whisper and sneak and squeal; music to my ears. When I saw this thing the first time, I immediately went to work on it for Tre. I think it suits him so well. Look at that moostashee!!! The bedlam was only magnified by our narrow living room, which made it all the more wonderful. I was even a teensy bit sad thinking about how much bigger our living room will be next year and how the piles of gifts will be strewn from wall to wall. (I'm speaking in faith here.) Leila has been asking for this very bag since the first day we found out we were moving. She&#

You may not be surprised to learn that we spent Christmas Eve Eve celebrating. The calendar showed us favor on our last Christmas celebration in California by offering Dale two special days off right before Christmas instead of splitting the days with inmates. So as soon as he got here, I ran to store to stock up on groceries and whatnots so that we could snuggle down in front of a roaring stack of Christmas movies and not come out until after the celestial day. What I didn't count on was the hex bolt being too big for the go cart. And I forgot the marshmallows for the sweet potatoes. And bread. Then after the second trip to Albertsons, I bought Coke instead of Coke Zero, so instead of going twice in one day, Dale made a third trip. I can pretty much guarantee that we'll be out again today, it's just that I'm sort of an idealist and I really like to think that things will go just the way I hope they will go. (Note to self: Things never go the way I hope they will go.) F

Dear Christmas, I can see you peeking out of my future and making your way into my present. I know that it's necessary for you to come, but the anticipation of your arrival makes for such rich memories. I can hardly bare the disappearance of your sweet face on my calendar... I think of you long before the school supplies are taken down and replaced with black cats and orange pumpkins. And during the summertime I push away thoughts of you when I am reminded of a favorite Christmas tune, forcing myself to not indulge in singing the words aloud as they are reserved for only this precious time of year. And then you come with all your holly and ivy, twinkle lights and jingle bells, egg nog and pumpkin bread, and the reflection of Jesus everywhere I look, no matter who tries to cover it up. You're marvelous and I adore you. So please, just one more week... just let this one more week shine even brighter with your magic and wonder and the glory of God. lvb

I love basketball season. Granted, when you have this many kids, it's a little loco trying to juggle practice schedules and games schedules and snack schedules, but when we are sitting in the bleachers watching one of our own running up and down the court, I get really excited. I may even, at times, embarrass my family with my whooping and screaming and spontaneous leaps from the bleachers. I don't mind causing a ruckus, and honestly I don't think my kids mind either. It's the people next to me that don't know me from Adam that I fret over. So last week when I was sitting next to one of my neighbors at the game, I explained to her that "I have a small life. These basketball games are the highlight of my week." That smallness has hung in my head ever since. It's difficult to explain my life as small. I mean let's get real, six children? That's huge. I have a huge life. It's the box that's small. And the circumstances, we are

WE ARE MOV-ING! WE ARE MO-VING! WEAREMOVING! WEAREMOVING! WE A-ARE MO-VING!!! (To the tune of the Hallelujah Chorus) Home never looked as good as it does right now. We're coming home. Jesus Reigns!

It's the waiting that drives me crazy. Maybe you've heard that we applied for Leavenworth last month. I feel like I've lived a lot of my life waiting for my real life to start. Here I am a third of the way through and I'm still waiting for the next chapter so my real life can start. It's not that I don't take this part seriously, because I do. It's just that I have this idea of what it should look like, and it doesn't. Some things do, like the dreamy husband and houseful of kids, but this little bitty borrowed place that we call home doesn't fit the model of my real life. And neither does California. When I was fourteen, my aunt Kim brought me out here for the first time. I gotta tell ya, I was pretty darn dazzled by the culture out here. I had only one connection to California, and she fit the mold of Californians to a tee and I adored her. The ocean, the mohawks, the mountains, the Birkenstock, all of it; I was in love. But then I grew up

I used to write in the evenings after the kids went to bed. Eventually I started writing in progression to make books, but before that, I just sat down and started writing. Today I was cleaning out some files in our computer and opened a file that said "writing". When I started reading it blasted me back to my life in Missouri when Dale was going to school and I was working. It was a seriously loco life, but we were truly happy. Here's a glimpse. There were days when nothing else mattered. That tiny twinkle of laughter became a clanging cymbal ringing through the house everyday, all day long. It evoked such unspeakable joy in my soul that I can't even begin to describe it. I would be in the next room giggling to myself; heaven forbid my little ones see me laughing about them saying "fart head" or "butt crack"... anything on the naughty list was funny. Then they would scream with laughter. That usually snapped me out of Lala Land nostalgia and b

Oh what a beautiful MOOOORRR-NINNNNGGGG, Oh what a beautiful day... I heart all holidays. I mean, Thanksgiving? Come on. A day to be--- that's right, thankful! Say thank you. Feel gratitude. Celebrate everything you have ever appreciated. Reflect on the goodness of the Giver of every good gift. And eat. Eat as if it's the physical manifestation of your gratuity. Seriously, how can you not love that? We had a really great day. I didn't spoil the oven with burnt pie filling, the turkey cooked all the way through, had plenty of time to rest, and really wowed Dale. I can't lie, the green rice was a total loss, and the stuffing wasn't my fave. And the rolls were not the tender delicious goodness I would have preferred, but over all I think the food was spot on, which means two days of labor for the grand finale was not in vain. There were a few times that I let myself ponder the feasting in Emporia and Richmond, but not for long. We have a ready-made party full of since