Written on the chalkboard

On our chalkboard in the dining room is written:  "I will walk in my house with blameless heart.  I will set before my eyes no vile thing."  Psalm 101

I see it every day.  Up to five times a day I read it in my head, simply because I face it while I eat.  (Yes, I eat five times a day.  Gimme a break I'm nursing the worlds most hungry baby.)

I purposely wrote the words from the Psalm for all to see, but mostly for me.  To remind myself to do just as it says, walk in my house with a blameless heart and set nothing before my eyes that is distasteful, evil, wicked or just plain low.  Low.  It's not hard to find things that are low today.  Magazines, web pages, face book, blogs, television it's everywhere.  But I can choose to look away, I can decide to keep it out of my home and I can surly find the self control to stop reading the newspaper when the story is nothing but foul gossip. 

The Psalm goes on to say, "Every morning I will put to silence all the wicked in the land; I will cut off every evildoer from the city of the Lord." 

So I don't actually silence the wicked in the land, but I do have to silence my own mind each morning.  I do have to cut off my sinful heart from reminding me of all the things I have no control over.  Maybe my husband didn't get up with any of the children the night before when I was up six or seven times rocking little ones back to sleep or changing sheets because someone drank too much water right before bed, which of course he served to them with love not knowing the result of such kindness.  It's easy to be tempted to dwell on these thoughts allowing them to grow into resentment.  Or possibly I scowl at the thought of how slow one of my children is at learning obedience wondering when she'll just get it already.  How could I possible greet her sweet little face with new mercies if I allow such thoughts to settle in my soul.   
If I do not consciously silence the wicked in me I definitely won't walk through my house with a blameless heart.  No way, no how.  I've gotta nip that wickedness at the first light of day in order to do that!
So what does walking in my house with blameless heart mean anyway?
Well, I don't know, but for me it looks like this.

Purposeful discipline.  The kind that doesn't leave me feeling sad, because I know it is for their good and not just because I am frustrated with them.  I also know it will probably sting (emotionally and physically), and that's okay because discipline that doesn't hurt really isn't discipline at all.

Selflessness.  Because at the end of the day when I walk down their bedroom stairs and plop myself on the couch next to my husband I don't want to run through the day in my head regretting where I focused my time.  I want to confidently know in my heart that I set aside portions of my day just to be with them.  Playing.  Laughing.  Exploring.  Rocking.  Singing.  Eating.

Busyness.  If my husband arrives home from work and the house is in shambles (and I'm not talking about a dishpan full of dishes and laundry still to be put away, I mean SHAMBLES) and the children are running around like rabid bear cubs from lack of attention all because I didn't productively use my day to serve my children and husband, you better believe my heart will be full of guilty excuses as to why things look the way they do.  And before you know it I'm explaining just how hard it is to get everything done because so and so is slow to learn obedience and I was up all night with the kids, which reminds me, where were YOU last night?!? 
Blameless heart, out the window.


I will sing of your love and justice; to you, O LORD, I will sing praise.
I will be careful to lead a blameless life when will you come to me?
I will walk in my house with blameless heart.
I will set before my eyes no vile thing.
The deeds of faithless men I hate; they will not cling to me.
Men of perverse heart shall be far from me;
I will have nothing to do with evil.
Whoever slanders his neighbor in secret, him will I put to silence;
whoever has haughty eyes and a proud heart, him will I not endure.
My eyes will be on the faithful in the land, that they may dwell with me;
he whose walk is blameless will minister to me.
No one who practices deceit will dwell in my house; no one who speaks falsely will stand in my presence.
Every morning I will put to silence all the wicked in the land; I will cut off every evildoer from the city of the LORD.
Psalm 101 

One Month, Family Time and Memorial Day

He's one month old young.  He's growing.  I knew he would.  Sigh*

 

 

 

 

Picnic fun at Mema and Papa's house.  Potatoes from Papa's garden last year still holding strong and great for frying outside on the open fire. 

Some new baby turkey's means a quick pep-talk on how to treat little animals.

 



 

 

 



From the chicken barn window.

 



 Bamboo leaves

 



Potsdam Parade

 



Lost

Lost in the swirl of pregnancy and preparations, in little boy sweaters and socks of blue, of math lessons and Explode The Code pages, of toddler tantrums and almost four year old independence, of a husband with a relatively new job and hours that suit our family just great.

 Lost in a new baby and desperately trying to spend as much time as possible staring at him, knowing he won't be a new baby forever.  Lost in nine (Yes NINE) totes full of spring and summer clothes for girls.  Lost in cleaning and picking up after I clean, in keeping floors a little bit swept up but not obsessing over it.  Lost in prayers for growing children with new attitudes and never really knowing the right time to sooth or to scold then going with my first instincts praying all the while, whether I am speaking to correct or to empathize that God would cover my mis-spoken words. 

Lost in shorts and tank tops, in the smell of sunscreen and sandals.  Lost in windows open and fans blowing, in paper plates and simple dinners, in a lawn mowing husband and grass covered feet.  Lost in sleepless nights and early mornings, in coffee and time to read only one or two verses of scripture before I am interrupted by a need.  Lost in patience simply because there really is no other way to get through the day.  Lost in picture taking and potty training in family time and quiet time and finding the balance between the two. 

Lost in Gods timing and small voice telling me to take it slow, enjoy the moments.  Lost in him, right in the middle, surrounded by his grace and loving shoulder to cry on when the days seem long and I feel unworthy of this mothering thing.  Lost in his answer to my prayers for clearer thinking and extra bursts of energy. 
Just taking it slow, enjoying the moments.

Life Now

What is life like now?  It's busy.  It's far busier than I thought.  Nothing due to a new baby either, and that's the truth.  New babies are actually pretty easy (in my opinion).  They sleep, a lot.  They cuddle.  They nurse.  And then sleep again.  This little guy sleeps.  Just about all through the night.  This past week he has decided to hang out awake for a little longer than usual giving us a chance to really look into his blue eyes and wonder what he'll be like in a year from now.  He stares at me, at the kids, at daddy, at the wall, the sun, the bag of diapers.  Really anything keeps his focus for a good amount of time before someone comes along and scoops up his cuteness.  He smiles.  Call me crazy as I know two week old babies don't normally smile, he does!  And I'm not talking about in his sleep.  I'm talking about staring at me for a long time until a big smile comes over his face.  He's done this at least a dozen times as I talk or sing to him. 

 

 

 

 

These girls.  Giving Simon a sponge bath is the highlight of their morning. 

 

 



There is always time to play dress-up.

 

A few afternoons of sun, daddy and outdoor play.



Of course me and Simon hang out inside using our quiet time to fold laundry and rest.  Natalie usually joins us at some point for a bath and a few minutes of Kindle time.  Olaf singing "Summer" is on repeat in my head on the Kindle.

 The belly bowl.  A good friend of ours asked to do a belly bowl for me when I was about 38 weeks pregnant.  Adding the girls hand prints as a finishing touch. 

 

 

So life goes on and we adjust to a new season in our home.  It's not always (if ever) quiet here, we pray a lot, we eat a lot (thanks to our awesome church full of amazing women cooking dinners for us!) We try really hard to listen more than we speak and take time to enjoy each other even when it seems there are things to be done and tasks to accomplish.  There are a lot of tears and often spanks.  We are working on overcoming fears (Psalm 34:4) and learning to be bold at the right times.  We are slowly organizing bedrooms and finally opening spring/summer clothing bins.  We're planning our camping trip in July and striving to finish school before the end of June.  We're teaching forgiveness and our desperate need for Jesus.  At the end of the day, if even one thing went well I know it's only because Jesus gave the strength, or the wisdom at just the right time.  

I'm in love with another man....

His dark hair, his gray eyes, his serious stare, his long fingers (and toes!), his wrinkled forehead and dimpled chin.  I'm in love with it all.  I think we all are here in this house. 

His birth was amazing.  Fast and breath taking (literally).  I guess, according to Andy it sounded like I got the wind knocked out of me while pushing.  I do remember that feeling and the sound in my head when he spring-boarded off of my diaphragm entering into the world in record time. 

Here, I'll just tell you the whole story...

Friday night 7:00pm:  We had just finished a yummy dinner at my parents house.  Contractions began slowly and not very intense.  I had had contractions all week starting about this time so I wasn't overly concerned. 
About 20 minutes later they had picked up, so we packed up.  There was a plan in order for my mom to come to our house when we headed to the hospital.  I suspected middle of the night, 2:00-3:00am. 
8:15pm:  We were home.  Andy placed sleeping daughters in bed (other than Cassidy who helped by keeping my water glass full and my rice pack hot).  I showered and dressed for bed/drive to hospital. 
8:45pm:  I was now able to time my contractions to about 5 minutes apart.
8:50pm:  Oh wait, that one was only three minutes apart....and that one too. 
8:51pm:  Andy phones my mom.  She arrives quickly.
9:30pm:  At the hospital.  Check in.  Contraction.  Elevator.  Contraction.  Weight check.  Contraction.  Gown.  Contraction.  Monitor hookup.  Cervical check, 5 centimeters.  Contraction. Contraction.  What?  Two in a row?  That wasn't fair! 
10:15:  Contraction.  Contraction.  Contraction.  Okay, that was three.  Prayers.  As painful, as intense, and at times overwhelmingly scared I felt, I was grateful for the opportunity to be in labor and to have another baby.  I prayed quietly whispering, thank you, thank you.  At one point the nurse looked at me like I was crazy wondering if I was thanking her or maybe not really in labor.  Ha! 
10:30pm:  One breath in, one breath out is all I hear the Lord instruct me.  Giving me just the right focus at just the right time.  I have Andy buzz the nurse to check my progression.  I could tell something big had happened from all those contractions in a row, although I prepared my mind for no change in dilation.  In case I was wrong I did not want to lose focus. 
10:32pm:  Shocked nurse looks at me and yells to other nurse,  "She's 8 and progressing quickly better call the Dr. back and tell him to come now!"
10:35pm:  Contraction.  Contraction.  Water breaks.  Contraction.  Me:  "I'm pushing"  Nurse:  "It might feel like that, and that's okay.  You're doing great.  You said you didn't want an IV, we called the Dr. he would like you to at least have one put in, we don't have to hook you up to any meds."  Me:  "No IV.  I'm pushing." 
10:40pm:  I flop back (really hard as I recall) onto the bed and start pushing.  The nurse yells to the other nurse for help.  Things are being thrown around.  I see gloves and tools on a table being arranged, but I just keep pushing.
10:48pm:  Simon is born!  All I can say is, "I can't believe he's here!" 
11:00pm:  The Dr. arrives.  Smiles and says, "well at least I get to deliver the placenta." 
11:01pm:  Andy takes off his gloves...."I thought I was going to have to do that."  He says. 

 
I can not find the words to describe how God met me that night. He knew my fears and he had compassion. He understood the pain and sped the process. He heard our prayers (weeks beforehand that this would be as quick as possible) and agreed. Thank you Jesus.
So that's it folks, Simon's happy birthday story!

Simon Richard Baxter

One Week Alone.

I couldn't just sit around waiting for him to return, I had to do something.  Something that needed to be done, something that might surprise the man of the house. 

So I did this. 

                                    A small house means duel purpose rooms.  Baby room/computer room.      

                            Just what I was looking for. 

                      Another flea market find. 

 

That's it.  Fresh paint, trim, curtains and rods, painted shelves, hung pictures.  Welcome baby Simon, we're already thinking of you. 

Special Number Nine

I'm a little late with this post, her birthday was February 15th. 

She turned nine.

I still think she could have only just turned seven. 

She is growing in stature and maturity.

Her conscience is strong.

Her love for others is immense.

She listens well.  Most of the time. 

She loves when I sit on her bed late at night and just talk/listen to her.  She told me she likes telling me her story's more than any of her friends.  I will cherish the moments she would rather tell me her secrets.

She's so very concerned with the well-being of her little sisters.  She suggests I do something special with them on Friday's while she is at her Friday enrichment program.  Never worried that she will miss out on a fun event, just wanting her siblings to be blessed. 

She's shy. 

Doesn't like to read aloud in front of anyone but us. 

Public school would say she is behind academically, but I know better.  I have a vision for her future, one she is unaware of.  I plant seeds in her around this vision I was given knowing someday they will be used for His glory. 

She can be stubborn.

She can snap a comeback in seconds, sometimes witty sometimes discipline worthy. 

She's sensitive and attentive to others feelings. 

She loves animals more than I can understand. 

She's naturally modest and has no desire to wear clothing that shows her off. 

She's talented but not in a way that anyone would notice.  A quiet type of gifting was given to her. 

She is Nine. 

We love her.  So very much. 

                                         Sewing an apron for Claire.

                                         Loving the family pets.
                                        

                                         Fun at Mema and Papa's last summer.  Best friends for sure.


A little birthday celebration with friends.

 
 Natalie peeking through the yummy treats for later.  Self-control little one, self-control.