Moving TWICE!!!
I moved to wordpress!!! If I am not showing up in your Reader go here and subscribe!!! Please delete the blogger feed and subscribe to the wordpress feed in your reader. I don't live here any more.
And secondly, I will be in Tokyo next week.
I love you guys. Be sure and write!
Xoxoxo
Friday, August 5, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Road Fatigue from Driving Cross Country
This morning we are leaving New Mexico driving to Arizona. The weight of this move is starting to sink in but I am happily ignoring the road fatigue.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Why I Just Couldn't Kill The Bunny
Moving so often hurts. So many days I am a teary mess. It is not the goodbyes, it is not the making of new friends. It is not the settling down. I am glad that God allows those things to come easier to me than most people that move.
The heartbreak comes in doses of things left behind, of sounds I will no longer hear, and sights that will too fast fade from my memory.
I waited until the last minute to donate the tiny size four shoes. The toes are worn thin from the places that my very last baby stomped and tripped on his first steps. I had no good reason to pack them and take them with us. They were too old to pass along to a friend and too worn for a keepsake. But to this mama they were a visible meter of my very last baby's "first" steps. I threw them into a donation bag like hot coals and cinched it up fast.
My Son1 is very creative and constructs things for me all of the time. One dull and gray day he brought me a fighter pilot made from modeling clay. He donned a vintage fighter pilot cap. Son1 also molded the pilot a set of dumb bells and weights so the fighter pilot could work out. And on a frigid winter day in Boston I stuck that little splashy pilot on my kitchen window sill. On ugly gray days I stared at the little pilot and thought of the little six year old that might not make things just for me, for too many more days. On the last day in the house, I pulled the little clay trio off the sill like a band aid. No matter how fast I pulled I knew it would sting for a second. And I clenched it and shoved it into a trash bag without looking. Tossing that little fighter pilot was like tossing moments in time for me...moments that I cannot get back.
On the last days as we moved things down and out the service door of our 1928 Craftsman, I found myself standing still, listening to the sounds of the boys pounding down the hollow wooden steps. The old flimsy door snapped shut and the small glass window in it rattled. I had heard that sequence, pounding stairs, snapping door, and rattling window a thousand times this year. It was the sound of boys rushing to school, of boys barreling out to build an igloo fort, and boys flying out the door to chase turkeys, rabbits, and chipmunks.
These days of backyard adventures are gone. I will not hear them in a city apartment in Tokyo for some years.
The day before we left Massachusetts I knew I had to deal with the paper mâché bunny. I put off tossing him. In art class, Son1 crafted the bunny like the other kids. But he was the only kid who gave his bunny an umbrella, like Peter Rabbit.
How many more days will fairy tales matter to him?
I stuffed the bunny in a toss bag, but Son1 discovered him before he made it to the can. He begged me not to toss the bunny. So when he was in school, I drove the bunny to a trash can away from my house. I stuffed the plastic bag into a dome lid trash can. But that umbrella just would not slip into the can. So with conviction I grabbed that umbrella handle and rescued the bunny.
I just could not kill the bunny.
Today we are driving in a packed vehicle from Oklahoma to New Mexico. We are driving with bags squished between legs. Our quarters are tight. But between Dr. Romance and me sits a paper mâché bunny. He is so much more to me than dried painted newspaper. He reminds how brief time is with my boys.
The heartbreak comes in doses of things left behind, of sounds I will no longer hear, and sights that will too fast fade from my memory.
I waited until the last minute to donate the tiny size four shoes. The toes are worn thin from the places that my very last baby stomped and tripped on his first steps. I had no good reason to pack them and take them with us. They were too old to pass along to a friend and too worn for a keepsake. But to this mama they were a visible meter of my very last baby's "first" steps. I threw them into a donation bag like hot coals and cinched it up fast.
My Son1 is very creative and constructs things for me all of the time. One dull and gray day he brought me a fighter pilot made from modeling clay. He donned a vintage fighter pilot cap. Son1 also molded the pilot a set of dumb bells and weights so the fighter pilot could work out. And on a frigid winter day in Boston I stuck that little splashy pilot on my kitchen window sill. On ugly gray days I stared at the little pilot and thought of the little six year old that might not make things just for me, for too many more days. On the last day in the house, I pulled the little clay trio off the sill like a band aid. No matter how fast I pulled I knew it would sting for a second. And I clenched it and shoved it into a trash bag without looking. Tossing that little fighter pilot was like tossing moments in time for me...moments that I cannot get back.
On the last days as we moved things down and out the service door of our 1928 Craftsman, I found myself standing still, listening to the sounds of the boys pounding down the hollow wooden steps. The old flimsy door snapped shut and the small glass window in it rattled. I had heard that sequence, pounding stairs, snapping door, and rattling window a thousand times this year. It was the sound of boys rushing to school, of boys barreling out to build an igloo fort, and boys flying out the door to chase turkeys, rabbits, and chipmunks.
These days of backyard adventures are gone. I will not hear them in a city apartment in Tokyo for some years.
The day before we left Massachusetts I knew I had to deal with the paper mâché bunny. I put off tossing him. In art class, Son1 crafted the bunny like the other kids. But he was the only kid who gave his bunny an umbrella, like Peter Rabbit.
How many more days will fairy tales matter to him?
I stuffed the bunny in a toss bag, but Son1 discovered him before he made it to the can. He begged me not to toss the bunny. So when he was in school, I drove the bunny to a trash can away from my house. I stuffed the plastic bag into a dome lid trash can. But that umbrella just would not slip into the can. So with conviction I grabbed that umbrella handle and rescued the bunny.
I just could not kill the bunny.
Today we are driving in a packed vehicle from Oklahoma to New Mexico. We are driving with bags squished between legs. Our quarters are tight. But between Dr. Romance and me sits a paper mâché bunny. He is so much more to me than dried painted newspaper. He reminds how brief time is with my boys.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Check Out Our New Ride
My treasured Honda Odyssey that trucked home my three newborns from hospitals in three states is now sold. The family that rents this home after us is moving from the UK with four kids. And now they own my van. And when we arrive in California, Dr. Romance is selling his wheels. We knew a new ride was in our future.
One morning, I opened my eyes, grabbed my phone, and opened my email. My eyes popped open when I read Dr. Romance "bought us a van." He described it as "small and cute and will fit our family just fine." The only issue was that going to Costco might be tight with our family, but it seats 6 to 7 people.
I had no time to click the links to the pictures. I scrambled to get my kids to different schools. Later that morning, I opened the pictures and LAUGHED. How in the world are to 6 to 7 people going to fit in a van made to fit circus clowns??!?!?? Well, I am just going to have to let you know.
Tomorrow I am answering your questions about our move. So if you have dreamed any more up, leave them in the comments. But between now and then, what do you think of our new wheels???
One morning, I opened my eyes, grabbed my phone, and opened my email. My eyes popped open when I read Dr. Romance "bought us a van." He described it as "small and cute and will fit our family just fine." The only issue was that going to Costco might be tight with our family, but it seats 6 to 7 people.
I had no time to click the links to the pictures. I scrambled to get my kids to different schools. Later that morning, I opened the pictures and LAUGHED. How in the world are to 6 to 7 people going to fit in a van made to fit circus clowns??!?!?? Well, I am just going to have to let you know.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The BIG Reveal...We are Moving...AGAIN!
Once again, I am moving addresses for the 10th time in nearly 13 years of marriage. Watch this and see why my boys are thrilled:
Dr. Romance swooped into town last night, and we headed straight for dinner at a surprise restaurant!
The boys were thrilled. They love chopsticks. But there is still a learning curve.
Once we got home, the boys unpacked a few gifts from their future home, and Dr. Romance showed them pictures of their future schools.
The boys are beyond excited.
They asked me this morning if it is still true. YES!!!
If you have any questions about our move across the world, leave them in the comments and I will try and answer them soon. Come back tomorrow and see the car Dr. Romance has already purchased for us!
Dr. Romance swooped into town last night, and we headed straight for dinner at a surprise restaurant!
The boys were thrilled. They love chopsticks. But there is still a learning curve.
Once we got home, the boys unpacked a few gifts from their future home, and Dr. Romance showed them pictures of their future schools.
The boys are beyond excited.
They asked me this morning if it is still true. YES!!!
If you have any questions about our move across the world, leave them in the comments and I will try and answer them soon. Come back tomorrow and see the car Dr. Romance has already purchased for us!
Monday, June 13, 2011
Moving: The Mommy Jitters
We have kept the whereabouts of our move this August a secret for a long, long time. We moved from San Diego this time last year. We left a home that we designed specifically for our family of five just 18 months before. My parents lived less than 3 miles away. My in-laws visited from Arizona every month. Our eldest walked to his school. And my kids, for the first time ever, lived less than 2,500 miles from family. And, we were living in my hometown, where I had not lived for 15 years.
The move to the Boston area has been a bit free-swinging. We have taken weekend roadtrips all over New England and other East Coast states. The boys have made prized friends, and Dr. Romance had an amazing time at Harvard. However, the boys have always known we would return to San Diego this summer. They have counted on it. We will be on the West Coast through the first week in August, true to our word.
Tonight, Dr. Romance flies home. He has been gone awhile. And tonight, we finally tell our children where that "somewhere else" will be after San Diego. They have known we most likely will not move back into our home in San Diego. They have known that we might have to move away again. My stomach is full of butterflies.
I am not so much concerned with how they will take the news that we will not move back to San Diego. I am more aware that our move will evacuate from my safe place of logistical planning, of making phone calls, of setting up appointments, and arranging dates. The whole concept of our move shifts from a checklist of adult To-Dos, to invading and intertwining into the mission of our family. It will now permeate every single person's thoughts and goals. We will speak of it every day until we get there. I know it.
This sharing of the news with the kids is a game changer.
But let me tell you this one thing.
I am super excited for this move. I think they will be, too.
Come back tomorrow, and I will tell you where on earth we are moving.
The move to the Boston area has been a bit free-swinging. We have taken weekend roadtrips all over New England and other East Coast states. The boys have made prized friends, and Dr. Romance had an amazing time at Harvard. However, the boys have always known we would return to San Diego this summer. They have counted on it. We will be on the West Coast through the first week in August, true to our word.
Tonight, Dr. Romance flies home. He has been gone awhile. And tonight, we finally tell our children where that "somewhere else" will be after San Diego. They have known we most likely will not move back into our home in San Diego. They have known that we might have to move away again. My stomach is full of butterflies.
I am not so much concerned with how they will take the news that we will not move back to San Diego. I am more aware that our move will evacuate from my safe place of logistical planning, of making phone calls, of setting up appointments, and arranging dates. The whole concept of our move shifts from a checklist of adult To-Dos, to invading and intertwining into the mission of our family. It will now permeate every single person's thoughts and goals. We will speak of it every day until we get there. I know it.
This sharing of the news with the kids is a game changer.
But let me tell you this one thing.
I am super excited for this move. I think they will be, too.
Come back tomorrow, and I will tell you where on earth we are moving.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Backward
Today's topic: Backward
In two weeks our family of five is driving backward. We shove things as tight as we can, pack up all that will fit, and drive cross country from Boston to San Diego. We are backward of just one year, when we shoved and packed our lives and three little boys into two cars and a teeny 5x8 trailer.
Driving backward floods backward emotions. I toss out all the things I would not otherwise toss: refrigerator art, crafts, and toys. We pick up what matters. We pick up limbs, hearts, and our family bond. I can't toss those.
I pick up, I pack up. I can't toss what we gained this year. The tightness between my husband and me, our children learning that family stability is more important than our house in San Diego. More importantly, we grew this year in faith, in the ways we have trusted God about where we live, and how he provides.
STOP.
Go ahead, you try. Here are the rules:
1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Get a little crazy with encouragement for the five minuter who linked up before you.
In two weeks our family of five is driving backward. We shove things as tight as we can, pack up all that will fit, and drive cross country from Boston to San Diego. We are backward of just one year, when we shoved and packed our lives and three little boys into two cars and a teeny 5x8 trailer.
Driving backward floods backward emotions. I toss out all the things I would not otherwise toss: refrigerator art, crafts, and toys. We pick up what matters. We pick up limbs, hearts, and our family bond. I can't toss those.
I pick up, I pack up. I can't toss what we gained this year. The tightness between my husband and me, our children learning that family stability is more important than our house in San Diego. More importantly, we grew this year in faith, in the ways we have trusted God about where we live, and how he provides.
STOP.
Go ahead, you try. Here are the rules:
1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Get a little crazy with encouragement for the five minuter who linked up before you.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Day One: 21 Days for Sons
Welcome to the first day of the 21 Days for Sons Prayer challenge! You are HERE and up for the challenge to pray for your sons for 21 days. Hopefully you have your book! If not, click on the link above, and then look on the left sidebar. The book is available in PDF or for your Kindle.
After our Twitter chat Sunday night, I was so encouraged by the passion you have for raising your sons to be Christian men of integrity with a passion for leadership. Thank you, #warriormom s, for being so honest and transparent. Also, I was so proud of the Twitter newbies that hung out for such a long time! Would all of you like to chat again another Sunday night?
Every day we focus a prayer topic. Today's topic is Obedience.You will see Brooke has included an overview of the topic, study questions, and finally the 10 topical prayers. Set aside time to pray every one of the prayers for each of your sons. Here are some ideas:
- Pray the prayers during a quiet time, inserting your son(s) name(s)
- Select some of the prayers to pray out loud with your son(s) and some during a quiet time
- Pray some of these prayers with your husband over your son(s)
- Reflect quietly
- Discuss with your husband and/or sons
- Tweet
- Blog
- Journal
- Try and tweet at least one time daily (it is ok to tweet more often)
- Use the hashtag #warriormom in all of your related tweets.
- Quote something from the e-book that struck you that day
- Tweet something timely happening in your life related to the daily topic
- Share an aha! moment
- Retweet something that resonates with you from another #warriormom
- Ask others questions
- Laugh online
- Offer virtual hugs
- There may be folks who join our #warriormom hashtag from other groups, or who have started the challenge late. Make these mamas feel welcome!
- Invite others to join any time. Just let me know so I can add them to our group list.
that encroach on our well intentions to pray. It can be a battle to set aside the time to prioritize this challenge.
Let's not aim for perfection of having an opportunity for quiet solitude for prayer. Let's just get it done, girlfriend.
I love this from Warrior Prayers: Contrary to popular belief, the battle won’t be won by reading and implementing the best parenting techniques. It won’t be won through late night talks, lectures on right and wrong, or even committing to a Bible-preaching church. These things are all part of the equation, but they don’t trump the most importantpiece of the fight. Prayer. This battle is best fought on your knees.
I am excited to participate in this journey with you. I will see each #warriormom in the Twitter stream today!!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Trip to Maine: Blue Piece is In!
All of a sudden I remembered snapping a puzzle together as a little girl.
More of our day in pictures:
More of our day in pictures:
Friday, June 3, 2011
21 Days of Prayer: Twitter Pre-Party
Hi friends! I am so excited for the start of our group, as we build a community of women that are passionate about lifting their sons in prayer. At last count, there are over 800 participants in the challenge! We are our own small slice!
We are going to keep this group mostly on Twitter. WAIT! Some of you are running away. Hands off your mouse! Keep reading.
I know that some of you are not on Twitter yet. But you really, really want to be part of this challenge. And I really, really want you to join us. And just to make everyone feel better, I am going to share with you my own 2009 Twitter newbie confession, complete with pictures at the end of this post. But first, let me give a few details about the group.
We are going to have our very own Twitter pre-party this Sunday, June 5 at 9pm EST/6PM PST. Mid west people, help me on the math for your time zone. We are aiming for 30 minutes. If you are still hanging out after that, we will go a little longer. This is a chance for you to get to know each other and also for those brand new to Twitter to give it a chance. I will be giving away copies of Warrior Prayers, and maybe something special for you folks who already have a copy. We will use the hashtag #warriormom. You can thank the witty and funny Lora Lynn from Vitafamiliae for choosing the hashtag! Between now and our party, we can use the hashtag for our tweets!
The actual Warrior Prayers challenge begins Wednesday, June 8. We will continue to use the hashtag #warriormom throughout the challenge. I would go on about the hashtag but the folks reading this that are new to Twitter are probably saying HASH what?!?!
So Twitter Newbies, I bring you my Twitter Confession!
But first, a little of my own background. I met Lora Lynn eleven years ago at church, before we had digital cameras. YES, it was that long ago. The pictures I needed of us to tell our whole story about how we can teach you anything, do not exist. So I have to skip the juicy story. I asked many people across the country for such pictures on Thursday to no avail. But since Rachel generously produced this one picture for me, I must post it. Lora Lynn had just had the twins, I was very pregnant with my first son, and Rachel was also pregnant with her first son.The very next year Rachel moved to Kansas, I moved to Hawaii, and soon Lora Lynn moved to Alabama.
Then months after I moved to California, Lora Lynn and some of her crew came to visit. I had all kinds of blogging questions to ask her, because she has blogged far longer and better than me.
And I felt very small and intimidated and incompetent and asked her about Twitter.
These Twitter things all scared me: @, #, DM, RT.
And I sat in my kitchen on the edge of my bar stool and felt all sweaty palms sitting next to someone with close to a thousand Twitter followers, thinking, I don't get this Twitter thing. She probably thinks I am a complete idiot.
Oh, I so wish I had a picture of us playing cards to show you....to show you I am NOT a complete idiot and can hold my own with her and her Euchre muscles. (It's a card game.)
She popped open her laptop, showed me her account and walked me through Twitter, step by step. Really, I did not need this Twitter thing. I had no idea why I asked her about @, #, DM, and RT. Now I had to act mildly interested. She was so effectively explaining it to me. But, I had no time for this Twitter stuff. I was very pregnant with my third son. And before I could finish arguing with myself about Twitter, she was done explaining and I knew what I was doing in less than 5 minutes. There is not much to Twitter at all. The great thing about Twitter is that you can build connections and community in an instant. So here I am, pregnant again, with Lora Lynn just after I survived her Twitter lesson.
I want you to just try it for 30 minutes, this Sunday, June 5 at 9pm EST. I am giving away prizes, remember?
So here is what you need to do:
1. Set up your account at www.twitter.com
2. Click on Search. Type this: #warriormom. Save the search.
3. Use the hashtag #warriormom anytime you want our group members to see your tweet.
I will be creating a list for folks whose Twitter handles I already have. Right next to the Searches tab you will see another tab for Lists. If I have your Twitter handle I will list you under warriormom. If you create an account please follow me @thefarmerfiles so I know you have created an account and can add you to the list. You need to follow the list (see the green button after you click Lists), and that will have you follow our group.
I will start tweeting today using the #warriormom hashtag. Those of you already on Twitter show me some love, and tweet back, m'kay? Newbies, play around a little so you will be ready for our Twitter party Sunday night. How do you attend the party? Very easy. Log into your Twitter account Sunday night before 9pm. You will start to see my tweets coming your way right at 9pm!!
thefarmerfiles at gmail dot com.
We are going to keep this group mostly on Twitter. WAIT! Some of you are running away. Hands off your mouse! Keep reading.
I know that some of you are not on Twitter yet. But you really, really want to be part of this challenge. And I really, really want you to join us. And just to make everyone feel better, I am going to share with you my own 2009 Twitter newbie confession, complete with pictures at the end of this post. But first, let me give a few details about the group.
We are going to have our very own Twitter pre-party this Sunday, June 5 at 9pm EST/6PM PST. Mid west people, help me on the math for your time zone. We are aiming for 30 minutes. If you are still hanging out after that, we will go a little longer. This is a chance for you to get to know each other and also for those brand new to Twitter to give it a chance. I will be giving away copies of Warrior Prayers, and maybe something special for you folks who already have a copy. We will use the hashtag #warriormom. You can thank the witty and funny Lora Lynn from Vitafamiliae for choosing the hashtag! Between now and our party, we can use the hashtag for our tweets!
The actual Warrior Prayers challenge begins Wednesday, June 8. We will continue to use the hashtag #warriormom throughout the challenge. I would go on about the hashtag but the folks reading this that are new to Twitter are probably saying HASH what?!?!
So Twitter Newbies, I bring you my Twitter Confession!
But first, a little of my own background. I met Lora Lynn eleven years ago at church, before we had digital cameras. YES, it was that long ago. The pictures I needed of us to tell our whole story about how we can teach you anything, do not exist. So I have to skip the juicy story. I asked many people across the country for such pictures on Thursday to no avail. But since Rachel generously produced this one picture for me, I must post it. Lora Lynn had just had the twins, I was very pregnant with my first son, and Rachel was also pregnant with her first son.The very next year Rachel moved to Kansas, I moved to Hawaii, and soon Lora Lynn moved to Alabama.
And I felt very small and intimidated and incompetent and asked her about Twitter.
These Twitter things all scared me: @, #, DM, RT.
And I sat in my kitchen on the edge of my bar stool and felt all sweaty palms sitting next to someone with close to a thousand Twitter followers, thinking, I don't get this Twitter thing. She probably thinks I am a complete idiot.
Oh, I so wish I had a picture of us playing cards to show you....to show you I am NOT a complete idiot and can hold my own with her and her Euchre muscles. (It's a card game.)
She popped open her laptop, showed me her account and walked me through Twitter, step by step. Really, I did not need this Twitter thing. I had no idea why I asked her about @, #, DM, and RT. Now I had to act mildly interested. She was so effectively explaining it to me. But, I had no time for this Twitter stuff. I was very pregnant with my third son. And before I could finish arguing with myself about Twitter, she was done explaining and I knew what I was doing in less than 5 minutes. There is not much to Twitter at all. The great thing about Twitter is that you can build connections and community in an instant. So here I am, pregnant again, with Lora Lynn just after I survived her Twitter lesson.
I want you to just try it for 30 minutes, this Sunday, June 5 at 9pm EST. I am giving away prizes, remember?
So here is what you need to do:
1. Set up your account at www.twitter.com
2. Click on Search. Type this: #warriormom. Save the search.
3. Use the hashtag #warriormom anytime you want our group members to see your tweet.
I will be creating a list for folks whose Twitter handles I already have. Right next to the Searches tab you will see another tab for Lists. If I have your Twitter handle I will list you under warriormom. If you create an account please follow me @thefarmerfiles so I know you have created an account and can add you to the list. You need to follow the list (see the green button after you click Lists), and that will have you follow our group.
I will start tweeting today using the #warriormom hashtag. Those of you already on Twitter show me some love, and tweet back, m'kay? Newbies, play around a little so you will be ready for our Twitter party Sunday night. How do you attend the party? Very easy. Log into your Twitter account Sunday night before 9pm. You will start to see my tweets coming your way right at 9pm!!
thefarmerfiles at gmail dot com.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
21 Days of Praying for Our Sons
Have you ever wanted to start something, but you just didn't know how to begin? Have you ever wished for something, but it just seemed like wishful thinking?
That was me, almost seven years ago. I was a new mom, far from my family, with a new baby BOY. I knew nothing about mothering a boy, but I knew I wanted to do it right. I never had any brothers. I was completely clueless!! I wanted to try my best at whatever I was supposed to do with a boy. But what was I supposed to do with a boy?
I was blessed to take a course with a pastor and his wife at our church for new parents. I soaked up everything this seasoned mother said about parenting her sons. One of the things she said that stuck with me: Begin with the end in mind.
I know a little more now than I did almost seven years ago about boys. I am deeply honored that God has entrusted us with three sons. I see my tribe together, and I want "the end" to be three leaders, three warriors who will lead their families for Christ and stand up to be Real Men.
But even so, there are no guarantees. Already they have ideas about their futures. They have opinions and beliefs. And so, I must begin with the end in mind, and do the most impacting thing I can do. And that one thing is PRAY.
Alongside several hundred women, I will be joining Brooke from Warrior Prayers in a 21 day challenge of praying for our sons. I am leading one of the groups using her ebook, Warrior Prayers. If you would like to join me, please leave a comment below with your blog or Twitter handle. What does joining this group mean? It means you begin with the end in mind. It means you commit to praying for your sons daily, and sharing some of your journey with a beautiful community of women. Each group member will need a copy of Brooke's ebook. It is less than $6.00!!
I would love it if our group can check in on Twitter. I will be posting some about my prayer journey during the challenge here at thefarmerfiles blog, but mainly I would love to check in with everyone more regularly on Twitter.
If you are new to Twitter, or not on Twitter, that is okay. We will figure something out. The most important thing in this challenge, to me, is to commit my time. Some days parenting is really tough! What is most important (to me) is a group of like minded mothers who are committed to beginning with the end in mind, committed to creating a community amongst other mothers, and sharing their hearts for raising a generation of men who will be leaders and Christ followers. If you are unsure about joining this group, or unsure about how to pray please know two things. 1. Thefarmerfiles is a safe place to ask questions about prayer, about God, and anything else. 2. Still not sure? Invite other mothers of sons to join us! We are in this together.
***Other people are already signing up for our Twitter group through the Warrior Prayers blog!
That was me, almost seven years ago. I was a new mom, far from my family, with a new baby BOY. I knew nothing about mothering a boy, but I knew I wanted to do it right. I never had any brothers. I was completely clueless!! I wanted to try my best at whatever I was supposed to do with a boy. But what was I supposed to do with a boy?
I was blessed to take a course with a pastor and his wife at our church for new parents. I soaked up everything this seasoned mother said about parenting her sons. One of the things she said that stuck with me: Begin with the end in mind.
One day, they will not be guests at a wedding, dancing with me looking over the top of them. One day, my prayer is to be dancing the Mother of the Groom dance, looking up at them, remembering that I began with the end in mind.
I would love it if our group can check in on Twitter. I will be posting some about my prayer journey during the challenge here at thefarmerfiles blog, but mainly I would love to check in with everyone more regularly on Twitter.
If you are new to Twitter, or not on Twitter, that is okay. We will figure something out. The most important thing in this challenge, to me, is to commit my time. Some days parenting is really tough! What is most important (to me) is a group of like minded mothers who are committed to beginning with the end in mind, committed to creating a community amongst other mothers, and sharing their hearts for raising a generation of men who will be leaders and Christ followers. If you are unsure about joining this group, or unsure about how to pray please know two things. 1. Thefarmerfiles is a safe place to ask questions about prayer, about God, and anything else. 2. Still not sure? Invite other mothers of sons to join us! We are in this together.
***Other people are already signing up for our Twitter group through the Warrior Prayers blog!
Friday, May 27, 2011
On Forgetting: Niagra Falls
Today I am linking up with The Gypsy Mama for Five Minute Fridays. Today's topic is:
On Forgetting
Got five minutes? Here’s a great way to spend them.
1. Write for 5 minutes flat without editing your voice.
2. Link back to the Gypsy Mama and invite others to join in.
3. Pony up the comment love for the five minuter who linked up before you.
GO.
They give me the blank stare. I cannot convince them they DO remember that one time when....
And I dream that today will not be one of those times. I spun those very thoughts around in my mind when I pulled the billowing plastic rain coats over their heads and over their clothes. I was sharply aware that this dressing might slip their memories one day.
Will they remember that I grabbed the Middle Man by the wrist and charged him down the twisting path, across and over the foot bridge, and through the trees to the ticket booth, with Grandma huffing behind? She was clutching the Big Guy's wrist, as I breathlessly bought the very last tickets to the very last boat that day just minutes ahead.
Will they remember the way the birds dotted the shore and the rainbow bent in reverence in front of Niagra Falls? Will they remember the way our shoes were soaked past our socks, and the way that we arched backward to stare quietly at the cascading water? Will they remember the broken silence by happy screams, showering under heart dropping sprays from the plunging white throttles?
STOP.
Pictures from the day:
On Forgetting
Got five minutes? Here’s a great way to spend them.
1. Write for 5 minutes flat without editing your voice.
2. Link back to the Gypsy Mama and invite others to join in.
3. Pony up the comment love for the five minuter who linked up before you.
GO.
They give me the blank stare. I cannot convince them they DO remember that one time when....
And I dream that today will not be one of those times. I spun those very thoughts around in my mind when I pulled the billowing plastic rain coats over their heads and over their clothes. I was sharply aware that this dressing might slip their memories one day.
Will they remember that I grabbed the Middle Man by the wrist and charged him down the twisting path, across and over the foot bridge, and through the trees to the ticket booth, with Grandma huffing behind? She was clutching the Big Guy's wrist, as I breathlessly bought the very last tickets to the very last boat that day just minutes ahead.
Will they remember the way the birds dotted the shore and the rainbow bent in reverence in front of Niagra Falls? Will they remember the way our shoes were soaked past our socks, and the way that we arched backward to stare quietly at the cascading water? Will they remember the broken silence by happy screams, showering under heart dropping sprays from the plunging white throttles?
STOP.
Pictures from the day:
Thursday, May 26, 2011
MY Cupcake Wars
Do you know I love the show Cupcake Wars? I DO. And I am about to have my own WAR. The vlog is in HD, so go ahead and pop it out full screen.
No really, it was true.This was my plate.
We sat with the mother of the bride, and I told her I believed Jesus fed five thousand people with five loaves and two fish. I assured her we had enough desserts.
Okay, so I shared the plate with three other people.
Next, we stalked the photo booth. Woo wee...this is my camera man, and my Dr. Romance.
No Cupcake Wars here. And YES, I shared.
No really, it was true.This was my plate.
We sat with the mother of the bride, and I told her I believed Jesus fed five thousand people with five loaves and two fish. I assured her we had enough desserts.
Okay, so I shared the plate with three other people.
Next, we stalked the photo booth. Woo wee...this is my camera man, and my Dr. Romance.
Have I mentioned today is my birthday? And that Dr. Romance is the doctor of romance for a reason. Look what he surprised me with!!!! Cupcakes from the new Mad Batter Cupcake Cafe in town!!! They just opened a few weeks ago.
No Cupcake Wars here. And YES, I shared.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Deep Breaths
***
The Gypsy Mama is hosting Five Minute Friday.
Here are the rules:
Write your heart out for 5 minutes flat.
Today’s topic is Deep Breaths.
GO.
I have been a swimmer nearly all my life. I have no fear of pools or the ocean. I was raised in San Diego, with a pool in my backyard and the ocean minutes away. My parents claim the YMCA taught me to dive for rings at 14 months in three feet of water. They even have pictures.
I drew deep breaths. The air filled my lungs. The deeper I inhaled, the deeper I swam, and the longer I swam. Swimming lengths underwater was a welcome challenge in my childhood.
As a newlywed I was a certified Advanced Diver. Plunging to depths of 120 feet I relied on my regulator, all the while drawing deep calming breaths.
This all should transfer to every day life. It does not. I just ate two cookies after I realized Blogger swallowed comments from yesterday's vlog. So, if you have less than two minutes, encourage me to take more deep breaths and eat less cookies.
STOP.
***I am really upset over the deletion of some of the comments on yesterday's vlog. One was from my sister, and she never comments. A few others were from close friends that live far away. Deep breaths. Less cookies. Enjoy my vlog from yesterday. Comment if you are so led.
The Gypsy Mama is hosting Five Minute Friday.
Here are the rules:
Write your heart out for 5 minutes flat.
Today’s topic is Deep Breaths.
GO.
I have been a swimmer nearly all my life. I have no fear of pools or the ocean. I was raised in San Diego, with a pool in my backyard and the ocean minutes away. My parents claim the YMCA taught me to dive for rings at 14 months in three feet of water. They even have pictures.
I drew deep breaths. The air filled my lungs. The deeper I inhaled, the deeper I swam, and the longer I swam. Swimming lengths underwater was a welcome challenge in my childhood.
As a newlywed I was a certified Advanced Diver. Plunging to depths of 120 feet I relied on my regulator, all the while drawing deep calming breaths.
This all should transfer to every day life. It does not. I just ate two cookies after I realized Blogger swallowed comments from yesterday's vlog. So, if you have less than two minutes, encourage me to take more deep breaths and eat less cookies.
STOP.
***I am really upset over the deletion of some of the comments on yesterday's vlog. One was from my sister, and she never comments. A few others were from close friends that live far away. Deep breaths. Less cookies. Enjoy my vlog from yesterday. Comment if you are so led.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Maybe I Am Part Tulip Magnolia
Now I understand my parents' Spring bull sessions.
Every spring for as long as forever, my parents have the same talkathon. It never changes. My mom stands her ground that my dad has spent an obscene amount of money on flowers, plants, and trees. He has. She is right. She sees in black and white, the money woman, an accountant by trade. My father sees only color, and no numbers. They are quite the pair.
Once all the life is laid in the ground of their yard, a reverence falls over new flamboyant life. The talkathon ends.
This year I missed their San Diego talkathon. But I witnessed the earth wake up in Massachusetts. Many days I wondered when Spring was our turn.
I have been pruned, cut back. I lived a six month winter.
And then one day in May, I saw the earth wake up. It was my turn for Spring. It was my turn to see emerald green life shoot from muddy brown earth.
It was my turn to see petals dust where my feet pounded.
It was my turn to see God paint the corollas on the trees. And it is not beyond me to believe He painted them for me. Certainly it is not beyond Him.
I can vouch for the blooms of the tulip magnolia trees. They do not bloom before the tree is 20 to 30 years old. Just maybe I am part tulip magnolia. Pruned first to grow, and then to bloom.
The splendor of color surrounds me. The flowers are the refrain of His song. Winters are not forever. Seasons of slumber pass, though they weigh thick. And one day the earth wakes and it is as if winter never was.
Birth. Bloom. Beauty.
Life lived loudly.
Bold. Brilliant. Blooms without hesitation.
I marvel that I am right here, right now.
Wife to my man. Mother to my three little men.
I am living.
I am breathing.
I am blooming.
I paint the Earth.
Every spring for as long as forever, my parents have the same talkathon. It never changes. My mom stands her ground that my dad has spent an obscene amount of money on flowers, plants, and trees. He has. She is right. She sees in black and white, the money woman, an accountant by trade. My father sees only color, and no numbers. They are quite the pair.
Once all the life is laid in the ground of their yard, a reverence falls over new flamboyant life. The talkathon ends.
This year I missed their San Diego talkathon. But I witnessed the earth wake up in Massachusetts. Many days I wondered when Spring was our turn.
I have been pruned, cut back. I lived a six month winter.
And then one day in May, I saw the earth wake up. It was my turn for Spring. It was my turn to see emerald green life shoot from muddy brown earth.
It was my turn to see petals dust where my feet pounded.
It was my turn to see God paint the corollas on the trees. And it is not beyond me to believe He painted them for me. Certainly it is not beyond Him.
I can vouch for the blooms of the tulip magnolia trees. They do not bloom before the tree is 20 to 30 years old. Just maybe I am part tulip magnolia. Pruned first to grow, and then to bloom.
The splendor of color surrounds me. The flowers are the refrain of His song. Winters are not forever. Seasons of slumber pass, though they weigh thick. And one day the earth wakes and it is as if winter never was.
Birth. Bloom. Beauty.
Life lived loudly.
Bold. Brilliant. Blooms without hesitation.
I marvel that I am right here, right now.
Wife to my man. Mother to my three little men.
I am living.
I am breathing.
I am blooming.
I paint the Earth.
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