An Interview About Our Homeschooling Journey

 A friend asked me a bunch of questions and I did my best to answer. You can find the interview here.

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2020

 What can be said about this year that hasn't already been said or thought? It hurts my head just to try to form coherent thoughts about this past year. But I'll try to share an update on life because I *do* still think of this wonderful community which was such a large part of my life for years.  At a time of year when we send out letters and Christmas cards- updating friends and family- I want to update you as well.  Here we go.

~ While MANY have suffered so many losses this year, we are thankful to have had consistent employment (for Jamey, I'm still home full time) and good health.  Thanks to masking and distancing, we haven't had as much as a cold.  This is a luxury (the ability to stay distanced and safe) and it is not lost on us.

~ My health has remained stable.  I still get regular scans to check for issues (dissections, aneurysms, etc.) and so far nothing is pressing enough to take action. I'm still on medication, carry emergency meds with me and I rarely (never?) stray out of cell phone range or too far from a hospital.  While this sounds tragic, I'm used to it and am not as fearful as I used to be.  I'm just thankful for every day.

~ We still have chickens- 11 to be exact. In the spring, we welcomed our first goats- two LaMancha does- Dixie and Gypsy.  We were going to breed them this fall but have decided to wait until next spring.  The girls are excited to milk them and make cheese.  They are beautiful, affectionate creatures.

~ We continue to garden.  In fact, this fall Jamey enlarged it in anticipation of stepping up our garden game again after a few years of growing less and supporting friends who have a CSA.  With my parents help (weeding and processing) and the potential for me to help more (as our youngest needs less constant supervision) we look forward to getting back into growing more ourselves.

~ What school looks like for our family continues to change.  Sam is attending his second year at a private school and has college plans for next fall- yes, he will be graduating spring of 2021.  My baby.  Don't get me started.  Sadie is still homeschooling (9th).  Miriam started 6th at the private school this fall.  Because of their small numbers and ability to distance, Sam and Miriam were able to attend in person for most of the fall.  David will head off to the same school for kindergarten next year.  He just turned five. How is that possible? 

This will leave me with only *one* child at home next year.  Tears are welling up as I type this.  It is for the best- for them and for me- and I am SO grateful for all the years of teaching them at home...AND knowing that we can homeschool again if we ever need to.  I am also so incredibly thankful for schooling options and for being able to listen to our kids and my health needs...again, not lost on us.

I have experienced a lot of guilt this year...guilt over so many others experiencing all manner of struggles and losses.  I often feel this but 2020 has bumped it up notch after notch. Don't get me wrong, I thank God for every good thing.  

But I grieve with and for those who have lost loved ones, lost jobs, worry about mortgages, rent, electricity, physical safety...those whose relationships are strained because of the stress of it all, the differences of opinion over politics and COVID precautions and the unknown...those who have been sick, have had to quarantine, are still suffering from symptoms months later...those who are doing online school with their children (and it's not going well), those who are home with their kids (some who may be much more challenging than others) all. the. time...the list goes on and on.  

One of the biggest lessons I learned after my heart attack was the importance of allowing myself to grieve.  We often try so hard to hold it all together- especially for our families.  We want them not to be scared or worried so we put on a brave face. But we forget to let it out and have a good cry in our closet or into our pillow at night.  We just shove it all in and down and this is not healthy.  We need to release it- cry it out, give it to God.  Be thankful in one breath and shed tears with the next. You are not alone. 

Thanks for re-connecting here in this little corner of the internet. I still think of you often and hope, for all our sakes, that this next year will bring a little more stability, less fear, more peace and more hope.

Merry Christmas, dear ones.

Blessings,

Jane

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An Update: April 2019

(As shared on my blog facebook page...)

Hello, you dear ones who still follow this blogger who hasn't blogged in ages.

I think about writing so very often but I have no idea where to start. A short update here feels like a much more manageable way to share. I'm doing well. It was discovered this past year that my SCAD heart attack was caused by a condition called fibromuscular dysplasia (my arteries are wonky which has and may continue to cause problems). It's been a journey accepting my new reality but I am so thankful for where I am today...I have a brand new perspective on life. I am thankful for every day. Our family is well. We are LOVING having my parents live with us in their own (attached) apartment. Their support and presence has been such a gift. Because of my health issues, we've stopped fostering. This was very difficult for me at first but our family feels complete with four wonderful children who span between learning to drive and learning to use the potty. We still garden a little and enjoy small projects but we also take advantage of our friends' CSA as slowing down a bit is good for me. We're still homeschooling but next year will include our eldest going to private school and our youngest spending a few days a week at a local preschool. When I read back over blog posts I realize that that woman doesn't exist anymore. This is both oddly unsettling and comforting. So much has transpired and while it has included trials it has also been full of so many joys and gifts. I can honestly say that while life is very different now, I would not choose to go back. God is with me and I rest secure in Him. Blessings to each of you as you navigate your own challenges and celebrations. You will always be dear to me. 

Until next time and with love, 
Jane Pin It

A Life-Changing Year

Hi, friends.  I have no idea if any one is out there to read me anymore- I know I've been gone a long time. I've been wanting to share some things with you for quite some time now but before I could get settled in regarding one event, bang! another one would hit and so on.  I think I have it pretty much together (let's just say that I do, anyway) at this point so I'm going to share before the next thing comes along and re-rattles me:-).

This past year has altered my life in several major ways and while I could possibly write a book on each of the major ways, I will instead try to summarize things for you.   Here we go.

1) Remember that sweet little special needs foster baby we brought into our lives almost two years ago?  He's now ours.  The official adoption came through last month just in time for Christmas.  There are so many emotions wrapped up in adoption- I never knew...and I never imagined I'd be experiencing them!  God had other plans as did our hearts.  We are now a family of six.

2) In less than four months, my parents are moving in with us!  This plan has been in the works for years and we are finally in the process of having an addition put on our house that not only gives my parents a full living space but that gives our family some extra bedrooms as well.  We are currently squished into two bedrooms as the two houses are being combined but before long, we will spread out again.  And, boy, are we going to appreciate the extra space.  My parents are still young so we are looking forward to many years of living beside them and caring for them (as I am sure they will continue to care for us).

3) And, finally (and with much trepidation for some reason), I want to share with you that back in October I had a heart attack.  I can hardly believe it as I type it.  I experienced a Spontaneous Coronary Artery Dissection.  This is not your normal heart attack- in fact, it's quite rare.  Arteries have layers and the inner layer of one of my arteries tore allowing blood to seep into the wall of the artery causing a bulge and a 70% blockage which lead to the heart attack.  I thank God that it happened in the early hours of the morning (it woke me up) while Jamey was still home and did NOT happen in front of my children.

I HIGHLY recommend that everyone carry chewable 81mg baby aspirin with them.  Jamey fed me four of these as we ran red lights on the way to the ER and they greatly reduced the horrible chest pain/squeezing I was experiencing.

My recovery is ongoing but positive.  I'm now on medication and just finished cardiac rehab.  There isn't a lot known about SCAD so I've enrolled in a clinical study to help with research.  Why it happens isn't really known and there is a possibility of recurrence.  I am still wrapping my head around my new normal and would appreciate any prayers you're able to raise on my (and my family's) behalf.

For all of these reasons (and many more that have come into focus through all of this), I thought it time to officially bow out of this site for the time being.  I kind of already have but I wanted to share with you some of the why.  I'm leaving it all here for my own record, for a resource and just in case I one day come back.

Update: The paper copies of my cookbook have sold out. Thank you all for your orders! The digital copy is still available on Amazon.

Blessings to each of you this year.  Love your people and people that aren't your people and make time to take care of yourself.  Our bodies are AMAZING and deserve so much more care than we give them.

Love,
Jane

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Encapsulated

I think this is the right word.  If we were playing Taboo or Catch Phrase, I'd say, "It's that thing when you've thrown yourself so far into taking care of a baby or toddler that you kind of forget who you are and when you're apart for a spell you don't quite know how to think or act.  You know, it's when you know you're in there- you're not really lost- you're just surrounded by the you that takes care of the them?"

And you'd yell, "Encapsulated!" and we'd win the game because we're like sisters like that.

I'm not sure what age my youngest becomes when those encapsulating layers peel off, but since my kids are generally about three years apart, I know it happens close to or just about prior to age three.  Or maybe that last layer or two wasn't quite free before the next one came along.  Either way, the me starts to shine through the me-caring-for-them at some stage.  I know it does.  I've caught glimpses of her over the years.  Yes, I have.

It's just amazing how those layers pile back on. They form a nice, thick blanket of wondering if they're eating enough and if they might be teething and what was that thing they just put in their mouth and are they getting enough attention and are we spoiling them and...you know- the constant mom-mantra-thought-stream that runs through our heads.  You know it, right?

The thing is, I feel quite naked without those layers.  I don't think it's because I'm uncomfortable with the me underneath (although when we get get reacquainted each time it takes a bit to fall back in sync).  I think I'm just wired to nurture.  And I recognize that not everyone might be.  It's my experience that it's a gift...and it's a bit of a curse because it can be hard to take care of a person who is surrounded by cushion-y layers of baby-need-thought-sequences.  So, maybe I don't take care of myself as well as I should (eating well, exercising, time for quiet and prayer).  Maybe I don't write as often as I'd like.  Or call up friends as much as they'd like.

So, what do I do about all this?  I need to find a way to burrow a little hole through the layers and into the soft, squishy center inside.  A tiny laundry chute, let's say- where I can pass myself some raw carrots and a walk on the treadmill now and then.  Where I can reach out through to my keyboard and type a quick (likely, oddly written) post about who knows what.

I don't want to become de-encapsulated quite yet.  It's not time.  But that girl in there could sure use some fresh air now and again. Snorkel, anyone?

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Outside Play

written this spring

A blogger friend of mine recently shared this article from Huffington Post.  The author, a pediatric occupational therapist, recommends kids play outside at least three hours a day- and this shouldn't include organized sports.

I couldn't agree more but it's taken me more than a few years to get here.  When my older kids were pre-school and young school-age, I was kind-of a nervous mom (I can hear Jamey saying sarcastically, "Kind of?").  I didn't want them to eat too much dirt, fall on rusty nails, climb too high in the trees, etc.  Plus, I wasn't content to just be outside, so I'd start a project like weeding and then get frustrated when they'd wander out of my line of vision and I had to stop what I was doing and follow them.

Fast forward ten years.  My kids are older so they generally know how much dirt is okay to eat (wink) and they're the ones pounding in the rusty nails with hammers.  As far as climbing trees goes...well, that's a story for another time.

One aspect of this outside play that I wasn't willing to relinquish back then that I see so much value in now is our time apart.  As a homeschooling family, we're together a lot.  When they enter their own world of play outside while I'm inside, we all get a nice break from each other.  They're free to argue, discuss, make semi-unsafe plans (then rule them out on their own, hopefully) without a mother cringing (and maybe intervening) from the next room.  And for me, I get time to think.

Another thing I've learned?  Those weeds aren't the end of the world.  When the toddler who's with us now starts saying, "peep peep peep" inside, it's his way of asking to go outside.  He's giddy with excitement as I put on his socks and shoes and we head out the door.  He makes a bee-line for the chicks and pokes his little finger through the chicken wire of their cage, petting them with his finger tips until they scurry away.

Then he makes his way into the shed that houses the mower and climbs onto the seat, wrestling the ear protection off the steering wheel and placing them on his little head, grabbing the wheel and rocking, willing the mower to start (he's had a ride and now he's obsessed).  Following this little guy around outside is such a joy.  I (usually) don't notice the weeds and instead I can actually see the world through his wide eyes. For a while yet, he'll need a grown up to help him navigate it but hopefully one day, he'll relish spending time outdoors- away from grown-ups, creating his own pretend world of play, too.

"There’s so much value in kids creating play schemes on their own. Kids who are always told how to play have trouble thinking outside the box, and even answering freeform essay questions. Plus, true outdoor free play is like cross training, with the climbing, spinning, going upside down, and the like that adults don’t encourage but that are so valuable for their development." - from the author of the article, Angela Hanscon

So, nervous mamas out there, I feel you.  Take a deep breath and take just one or two steps back. There's the reward of freedom in it for both you and your kids if you're able to let go just a bit.  And there's joy in being given a tour of their newly fixed up hog-shed turned club house...complete with art on the walls, flowers, furniture they nailed together, a caterpillar habitat, a play-area for the toddler, and a floor that may or may not be swept cleaner than my kitchen floor inside.

Maybe four hours a day should be the new recommendation? Pin It

A Day in February 2017

I force myself up soon after 8am when I hear the toddler stirring in the next room.  I want so badly to be a morning person but I am not.

Get dressed, start drinking my cup of coffee and check email.  Ready toddler's milk. Ready toddler's family visit diaper bag- making sure it has diapers, wipes, snack, milk with a cold pack, a few toys and a change of clothes.

Retrieve now fully awake toddler from crib and give him a bath since his hair smells like he spit up during the night.  Get splashed by the happy little boy in the tub.

Get toddler dressed and let him play with Miriam (who is now up, too) while I call to make two necessary medical appointments for toddler.

Feed toddler breakfast while I eat my yogurt and granola and drink some more of my (now cool) coffee.

Wake up big kids and give instructions for the morning.  Run upstairs and change into town clothes.

About 9:45 am, run toddler into town for his family visit with birth dad.  Make conversation with birth dad in waiting room until social worker comes out.  Pass toddler to his dad and try not to breakdown as he cries and lunges for me as I walk out of the building.

Drive home and check on progress of kids' school work.  Do school with Miriam.  Reheat same cup of coffee and drink some more.

At 10:45 am, take Miriam and go pick up toddler who is very happy to see us.  Miriam thinks it's neat that a police officer held the door for us while we were leaving the office and later tells her sister he was handsome. Pile back into van- hand sanitizer all around.

Drive directly to toddler's doctor's office for appointment.  Miriam and I chase toddler all around waiting room and exam room trying to keep him out of trash cans and from putting things in his mouth.  Leave doctor's office- hand sanitizer all around.  Phone home and ask Sam to start lunch.

Once home, call social worker to give updates on doctor's appointment and other appointment scheduled.  Give extra cuddles to toddler who is often very clingy the day or two after his visit.

Almost 1:00 pm, eat lunch together. Put toddler down for nap.  Pray he sleeps longer than an hour. He does! Get dishes into the kitchen.  Finish school with Miriam.  Start school with Sadie.  Finish cold coffee. Work on school until mail comes and Sadie's first American Girl doll arrives (which she saved up for herself).  All bets on finishing school with Sadie are off.

Fold the last load of laundry (with toddler "helping") that didn't get folded from the laundry spree the night before.  Eat some cookie dough from the freezer and then throw the rest away to keep from eating more.

Finish washing up dishes (while toddler keeps a handful of my skirt in his little fist). Start to think about dinner and decide I need to document one of these days so one day I can remember what life is like right now.  Start to type this post on the way to the pantry to get tomato sauce.

Assemble supper (baked pasta with meatballs).  Jamey gets home from work.  Say brief hello and give instructions for baking the dinner.

Drop Sam and Sadie off at choir and drive to the grocery store.  Park the van in the parking lot, recline seat and BREATHE for 5 minutes.  Fill up my grocery cart, wince, pay, and head home.

Unpack groceries while cooking peas (baked pasta almost ready).  Eat dinner with Jamey, Miriam and toddler.  Fill Jamey in on our day.  Pack up some supper for Sadie.  Kiss toddler good night.

Take Miriam to her music class and pick up Sadie.  Sit with Sadie while she eats.  Sit in on Sam's choir rehearsal until Miriam is done her class.  Drive the girls home and watch a new episode of The Incredible Dr. Pol together.

Hug girls goodnight, discuss next day's plan (Jamey has off!), watch a TV show, greet Sam when his ride drops him off at home. Send him into the kitchen to find dinner and snacks.

Check email, read a few articles, check out what friends are up to on facebook, watch some PBS Masterpiece and head to bed.

Things I did not include:
- times I let the dog in and out of the house
- times I loaded and tended the wood stove
- diapers changed
- times I scolded myself for not drinking enough water (I had my first kidney stone this summer which was ALMOST LIKE LABOR)
- times I asked the kids to be quiet because the baby is sleeping
- photos because I didn't even think to take any

These days I experience many moments when I'm fully present in the now.  But there are also moments when I'm on the verge of panic over what the future will bring for the little boy who has started calling me "ma".  And, what our life will feel like without him.

Thankfully, the present-moments out number the panic-filled ones.  And thankfully, this particular day is (usually) the busiest of our week. Pin It

A Christmas Letter to You

Dear Friends,

It's been two months since I've written here and that feels like an eternity.  A few of you have even sweetly reached out to check in on us-to see if everything is okay- and I am very thankful to say that it is.  We are fine.

One lone pig resides out in the pig yard.  The honeybees are (mostly) hunkered down in their hives. Our chickens are no more (thanks to culling the elder ones and a predator).  We have plans for starting the flock over in the spring with many fluffy chicks.  The garden is where we left it and our CSA has been over for months.  We're (miraculously) keeping up with school and choir, sign language lessons, and church activities.  We're healthy overall and thankful for a good job, a warm house, full cabinets of food, kind neighbors, loving family...the list goes on and on and on.

I could say that I haven't been writing because we've been busy and that's true.  But ever since starting this blog (8 years ago?), I've always been busy.  So I guess it's more accurate to say that my head and heart are busy as I pour myself into caring for our family- husband, three kids and one (newly-turned-one) sweet-as-can-be foster child.

Our little guy is still with us but over the next couple months, major decisions will be made about his future.  This takes up much of my head space as I strive to stay in the moment and, at the same time, try to prepare our family (and myself) for his departure from us. Prayers are welcome.

In light of all this, the season of remembering that God willingly sent His Son to us and then gave Him up is SO not lost on me.  

The tree, the lights, the gifts, activities, and cookies are all very nice but let's not let them become Christmas idols- distracting us from the reality of the season.  What a sacrifice.  What a love.  It seems to defy all reason, all natural ability and that's because it does.  It's supernatural and cannot be thought of, celebrated, or lived through without acknowledging that it occurred only because GOD was in it and through it.

May we see Him in everything this season and trust that He is always in everything- the good, the bad and the seemingly impossible.

"Everything was created through him;
    nothing—not one thing!—
    came into being without him.
What came into existence was Life,
    and the Life was Light to live by.
The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness;
    the darkness couldn’t put it out."

John 1:3-5, The Message

So I want to wish you a very happy and Merry Life-Light-mas.

Love,

Jane

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And All Was Right with the World

It was 10am on a weekday.  Jamey had the day off and was with Sam at the library checking out books and looking up articles for the upcoming start of Challenge B.  Sadie and Miriam had been begging for harder chores that I'd pay them a little something for since big brother Sam has recently been doing some odd jobs for a neighbor.

Sadie was down below me in the front flower beds- pulling up the remaining roots of bushes that Jamey and Sam had extracted this summer.  Her task was to rid these beds of weeds and roots and level them out so grass could take over.  I am SO not into flower beds these days.

Miriam was inside reorganizing our DVD and game cabinet that had been ravaged over the summer- no small task for a seven-year-old as game pieces and DVDs needed help finding their homes.

Where was I?  The baby and I were snuggled into my new porch hammock/chair*, swinging gently.  The air was still cool, the porch still in the morning shade.  Sunflowers and hydrangeas swayed and bent in the breeze as a flock (no kidding- I've never seen so many) of barn swallows swooped and darted in the yard and field in front of me.  The baby, usually climbing all over me- attempting to eat my face and finger my earrings- was calm and tender as he played with my arm and was mesmerized by the swallows, too.

Out of the blue, a feeling of peace and genuine thankfulness overtook me and brought me to tears.

I haven't been experiencing many of these moments lately and I didn't realize how starved I had become for them.  Fostering this time around has put me in intimate touch with another world- a world of mental health issues, poverty, chaos, and violence.  It's hard to shake off and fully live in my own safe and quiet life.

A month or so ago I was trying to describe this feeling to a new friend (who also fosters infants).  I told her it felt as if I was sitting on the seat of a dunk tank.  Sitting up on top, I live in my world.  It's a quiet life.  I think of myself as a fairly sheltered Mennonite girl- I garden, can, attend church and homeschool my kids.  I have supportive and loving family, friends and neighbors.  My husband is my best friend and we enjoy our (fairly) quiet life.  

But then---Bam!  A ball hits the target (I take the baby to a family visit, get a call from his social worker or check his birth parents' facebook pages- I highly recommend you not do this) and I'm plunged into this other world.  And it's scary there. ( I try to imagine living there- what if my reality was a birth parent’s reality?  Not knowing when and if I’d bring my child home with me.  Not knowing if I’d make rent or have enough gas to get to work or whether my partner will stick around or if I’ll end up in jail again.)

I'm hauled out, dripping wet, and try to re-engage in my life.  But I'm shivering and shaken up and it takes hours and sometimes days to recover before I'm dunked back under.  This.  This is why these moments of peace and bliss aren't bubbling up for me as often.  I'm pulled down and hauled up.  Dunked under one second and then scrambling to dry off the next.  Attempting to engage both worlds for the sake of this baby.  Trying to get my footing in my world and brace myself for the next entry into the other.

I was starting to worry that fostering was callousing me to the point that I wouldn't be able to see God's handiwork as readily before me as in the past, that I wouldn't as often feel His calming touch and caring presence that reassures me that He loves me and is for me.  I've been too busy trying to suppress a panic attack- which creates stellar knots in your neck and shoulders, by to the way.

That instance of peace- when all was right with my world- was all the sweeter because it was isolated.  It was as if God knew I needed it but wanted it to be special...treasured.  I know there will be more and I look forward to each one with longing.  For an instant, it was just me and God and the dunk tank was nowhere to be seen.

******************************

*Side note: I highly recommend considering purchasing one of these hammock chairs (or something similar). Not only do babies love to gently swing but a chair like this has forced me to sit, enjoy the outdoors and SLOW DOWN.  Our front porch has become the new place to be because of it- mom is relaxed and not distracted.  I can be more present for everyone.  Plus, it's sturdy enough that the girls like to take turns sitting with me in it, too.  Who would have thought a silly chair could do all that?

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Season Shift

I've been meaning to write this post for weeks.  Instead, I've be continuously thinking of and reeling from a tragedy that some dear friends are living through.  Their sweet 4-month old baby boy passed away.  Please remember them in your prayers as they and their little girl grieve this enormous loss.  Thank you.

I'm still here (more or less).

The past couple months have flown by in a blur of baby and kid care, cooking from CSA boxes, trying to stay cool, birth family visits, a week of vacation, lesson planning, and day to day summer life.

In one week, we will start school as best as we can.  I recently read an article encouraging homeschool moms to think of their plans as "guesses".  I needed that.  Life is unpredictable and I am forever learning that I can't hold so tightly to my neatly structured plans.  Naps, appointments and feeding schedules are sure to change.  Lord, help me flex with them.

A summer without a huge garden of produce was, to be honest, so very nice.  Tomatoes came pouring in from our garden last week and I managed a large batch of canned, chopped tomatoes and a batch of tomato soup with one more go at soup planned for this week.  Thankfully, I have enough tomato sauce from last year to carry us over.

Since this was our first experience with a CSA (a full share) I wasn't sure what to expect.  Several people told us they found themselves trying new recipes to use up produce they usually don't buy.  I don't think I tried one new recipe.  Instead we roasted or ate fresh almost every single item.  It was a breeze...and so delicious.  If you don't have the space or time to garden, I highly recommend you look into a CSA.

The little boy with us is 8 months old already.  He is happy and healthy- a real joy.  It appears he will be with us for awhile yet.  Where he goes from here is still uncertain.  We welcome prayers for his sweet life and those who will care for him next.

I've missed writing here.  I've started a million blog posts in my mind these past few months- many about foster care.  The feelings and ideas are so hard to put into words- too complex and fragile all at the same time.  Maybe one day I can put these stories down.  For now, we live them out and do the very best we can with God's grace and strength holding us up.

September, ready or not, here we come!  Blessings to each of you as you make the transition, too.

Love,
Jane

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Loneliness in Foster Parenting

I wrote this a couple weeks ago during a particularly difficult spell.  I've hesitated to post it since these feelings are not as intense currently (although they wax and wane).  I offer it up anyway.

I have a little time to write.

I should write about the swarms of bees Jamey caught and the two pigs that did NOT want to go the butcher but did and then about the bacon Jamey smoked himself on his new (and first ever) grill/smoker.  I likely will write those posts sometime soon but instead I find myself needing to write about the loneliness that can come from being a foster parent.

We have GREAT friends and family and an AMAZING support system that includes a WONDERFUL church family and supportive neighbors.  I don't want any of them who might read this to feel the least bit like they're not doing an amazing job of being there for us.  YOU are and I can't imagine how much harder this would be without them.

That said, it's hard to explain how these last few months have really been.  When folks ask how he's doing, we can talk about how he's sleeping. We can talk about what a good baby he is, how he's laughing, loves his doorway jumper, and is starting to roll over.  We can talk about how much he's taking by bottle and the goals for getting him off the tube...but there's so much left unsaid- right under the surface.  And if I opened those gates of thoughts and feelings I wouldn't be able to stop them and I'd likely end up in a pool of tears on the floor.

Okay, that might be a bit dramatic.  I don't feel like that all the time.

But there are times that I do.

There are times that I know I'm the only one out of all our friends who is still changing diapers. Somehow, this sets us apart and seems to undo some of the other things we have in common.  I wonder if many people know what to do with us.  What else to ask us about.  Whether they can invite us over. Whether they can come over to our house.  I feel like we're weird in an accepted but awkward sort-of-way.  Just to be clear- we are actually weird (who isn't?) but this has added a new dimension to our weirdness.

Sometimes I feel like I've gone backwards in the child-rearing progression.  Many others are plowing ahead- beginning to look at what their lives might be like one day when kids move on and out.  And I'm looking at bottles that need washing and birth parents who have so far to go before they're ready to take this precious boy home with them.

This large part of my current world is, in many ways, off limits to others.  It needs to be to preserve confidentiality and the respect due birth parents going through a very difficult time.  This world is full of family visits, home visits, home-health visits, speech therapist visits, pediatrician appointments, specialist appointments and follow-ups...all of which I can't discuss or process in detail- except with the professionals and Jamey.  Oh, how I thank God for Jamey.

{This precious boy just nodded off to sleep by bouncing himself gently in his jumper.  I cannot convey the sweetness that is his little face.}

I hear others plan island vacations, talk about the sports and other activities their kids are involved in, lament about possible presidential candidates, or about redecorating their home (ALL fun and worthy topics of conversation!) and yet they leave me feeling alien because I have no room in my head or heart to really dwell on such things.  But I want to hear about them!  Because I do care about my friends and family and what is going on in their lives.  I seem to be wearing some sort of tinted lenses on my heart- everything is slightly colored by how this foster placement impacts us.

And all this leaves me feeling lonely even at home with my great kids, even surrounded by my congregation, even at the park with other homeschool families, or even sitting in our living room with good friends. Don't get me wrong- foster parents don't have dibs on loneliness.  If you're struggling with depression, health issues, marriage issues, children struggling with emotional issues, or just the demands of the everyday...you KNOW, likely even better than I, of this loneliness.

I just didn't expect to experience it in foster parenting.

I'm not complaining.  We chose this and we'll likely choose it again.  I just wondered if folks knew about this other challenge that foster parents sometimes face.  And while encouragement is always welcome, if we're praised over-zealously that, too, can make me feel set apart. And we shouldn't be.  We're right here with everyone else just trying to do the best we can.

There are a few things that help.  One, in the midst of loneliness, I know that in reality I am not alone (turn your volume up).  Two, I know that my loneliness ensures that the little baby in our home will not experience loneliness for the however many days he's with us.  Three, occasionally I talk with someone who discloses in whispers that they are considering foster care...and, oh, how my heart soars when I hear this.  Because despite all the challenges, it's worth it all.  And if they choose this path, I look forward to walking beside them- knowing what it feels like and ready to accept their pools of tears and mess when or if they open up.

Time and time again, God answers our loneliness through song, His Word, notes of encouragement, etc...all timed perfectly- lifting us, strengthening us and sustaining us.  If you feel so moved, take time today to write a note or place a phone call to someone you think might be feeling alone.

And if you're a fellow foster parent, I'm right here with you.  We are not alone. Pin It

There are days...

There are days when he takes long naps. When the kids and I get all (or even almost all) the school done I had in mind for the day.  When he eats well. When he smiles every time our eyes lock.  When I'm able to throw together something for dinner or have the foresight to set dinner out to thaw in the morning.  When there is enough time to play a game with my kids or put him in the stroller so I can pull a few weeds.  There are days when I feel rested.  When he gives me his first giggle one day and his first belly laugh the next.  When I feel confident in my ability to juggle four kids, appointments, school and life in general.  When I feel as if we have reached the other side and are settled in our (temporary) new life and routine.

But often, I have a different kind of day.

There are days when his naps are 20 minutes long.  When I feel as if I'm neglecting my kids' studies and barely have enough energy to oversee the daily goings on.  When he doesn't eat well and I wonder if he'll ever not need to be tube fed.  When the kids turn up their noses because dinner is a mishmash of leftovers that do not compliment each other well.  When I feel like I haven't spent quality, one on one time with my children even though I'm with them all day, every day.  When I am under the weather with colds and/or the flu (I've had both) or feel exhausted even though Jamey took the night shift.  When I wonder if I'll ever be able to keep up with everything and feel like life is manageable again.  When I allow myself to imagine what it would/will be like to send him home to his family whether I think they're ready or not.  When I just want to cry because I know I'm where I'm supposed to be doing what I'm supposed to be doing but it's so hard.

These are the days that will at some point, probably in the not-so-distant-future, fade quietly from my memory. Likely, the ones that will stick will be the happy ones, like the images caught on camera that will end up in a photo book that I'll allow myself to peruse now and again.  But for now, these days are real and raw, sharp images and feelings that overwhelm.

Regardless of the day, Lord, help me to remember that it is a day that You have made.  Let me rejoice and be glad in it...no matter what it looks or feels like.

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Giving Myself Permission

It feels like scaling a mountain to even begin this post.  That's because I've had to give myself permission to do so.  Do I really have time?  Is this even worth writing about?

I like to think of myself as fairly self-sufficient.  You see, I'd much rather take a meal to someone than to have to accept one.  I'd rather hang my clothes on the line than run up my electric bill.  I'd rather grow our own vegetables, teach my own children, tidy my own house, etc., etc., etc..

And yet I find myself in an extremely humbling season of life because I. can't. do. this. by. myself.

When we decided to go through the foster care training I knew deep down that more than anything else I had yet done in my life, THIS experience was going to humble me the most and drive me straight into the arms of my heavenly Father.  No skirting around His offer of help.  No pretending I could do it all on my own accord.  None of that.  I was going to need His supernatural love and strength to carry me through and I *knew* I hadn't done enough of that in my life thus far.

It scared me to death to think about.

I wasn't afraid He wouldn't be there for me, that He wouldn't keep His promises.  I knew He would and He has- time after time after time.  I just didn't want to admit my inability to do it myself.  What silly creatures we are.

In giving myself permission to lean on Him, to admit my short-comings and His all-knowing, I am allowing myself to do that which I believe we've been called to do- nurture an infant in his/her early stages of growth and development.  Saying yes to foster care has meant saying no to doing a lot of things on my own- spiritually, physically and emotionally.

I haven't mastered it yet.  I work on it every day as I load wet clothes into the dryer, pay the cleaning women, watch as an amazing tutor teaches my daughter math, accept yet another meal, another prayer, another ride to yet another out of town medical appointment, sign up for a full CSA share, and say thank you for one more offer of kid-care.

If you find yourself in a similar season, let me tell you that if you can be so kind to yourself as to give yourself permission to let go of all that you "should"/could do, you may free yourself up to do what you have been called to.  

And you'll likely do it better than any of that other stuff anyway.  But you'll need to give yourself permission each new day.  And, sometimes, at each new hour.  

Say no so that you can yes.  Even though from experience I know it is true- I, too need the constant reminder: The view from the top of what seems to be a treacherous, humbling, and surreal mountain is so very worth it.  Soak in His love and let the unimportant stuff fall from your pack.  

It will drive you through the woods to the top.

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Everything

Hi, friends.

I will not be blogging for awhile.  We have another foster care placement.  This time he's a wee-tiny one who needs a lot of extra care.  We are managing with the help of AMAZING family and friends (some who trudged through the snow to get to us to help this weekend).  Please remember him (and our family) in your prayers.

Love,
Jane

"For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength."

Phil. 4:13

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I am Mother.

Between Christmas and New Year's Eve I unexpectedly found myself without children.  For five days.

Our children are almost always with us.  Sure, there have been the occasional overnights when one isn't home and there are the handful of times Jamey and I have gone away for an anniversary or funeral... but never for five days.  And never has it left me home alone in an empty house, except for our dog who seemed to enjoy being an only child despite missing his little people.

How would I spend my time?  Would I lie around and read and write and take long naps?  Would I scour the house, wash every piece of laundry and ready their school lessons for the New Year? Would I cry? Would I dance around the house in glee?

It's not often that I'm given this much free time.  At first it scared me.  What would I do with that much total me-time?  This lead to another question. Who is this me that has all this free time anyway? What do I do without my kids?

There is a lot of talk (and think) about "losing" yourself to motherhood.  It's something I know many women wrestle with.  Our days often do not look like they did before children.  No longer do some of us use those corporate (or otherwise) gifts to earn money and interact with the world in a direct way that makes us feel like outward contributors to society.  I don't think that when women struggle with this they are saying they don't feel as if motherhood isn't a major, worthwhile contribution to society.  It's just...different.

So what would the pre-child me do with five free days?  I couldn't even figure that out because that person doesn't exist anymore.  Thirteen years have come and gone.  What was important to me then isn't important to me now.  That woman has changed.

I don't mind that she's gone.  I liked her an awful lot, for sure.  She was all that I knew.  But now I know the me-with-children.  And I like her a lot, too.  Oh, she's not perfect.  She messes up every day.  She yells at her kids sometimes.  Some days she's on her computer too much.  Sometimes she loses her patience and wishes she had more freedom.

But she's a mother now and all of those struggles come with the mothering territory.  It's hard but it in no way makes the pre-child her any more important or valuable than the her she is now.

I realized in my discernment about how to spend my five days that I am a mother through and through for this season of my life.  I enjoyed the previous season and I will enjoy the next.  But for now, being a mother even when my children are away is the best me I can be.  Anything else would be trying to be someone I'm not.

So what did I do for five days when my children spent time with their grandparents?  I washed their clothes and sheets, made up their beds, got some school plans together, and stocked the fridge for their return.  I checked things off my to-do/want-to-do list that normally draw me away from them (computer work, writing, taxes, visiting with a friend, shopping, quality time with Jamey) so that when they came home, I was be ready to mother (with children) again.  Don't worry, though.  I also indulged in watching a show in the middle of the day with snacks and managed to not cook a stitch of food (pulling food out of fridge and freezer is not officially cooking in my book).

If you don't find yourself at the same place I am with this whole mother-identity thing, that is okay. We all experience, manage and live out our mothering differently.  And I can honestly say that there have been times, especially when my children were younger, that I wasn't at this place either.

At this point in time, I am a child of God, follower of Jesus, wife, daughter, sister, friend, neighbor, foster parent, church-attender, home manager, and teacher.

But most of all, I am Mother.

And I am okay with that. Pin It

Organizing My Way Through the House

This fall, I generally have Wednesday afternoons free.  For me, "free" means time at home (with the kids) without any agenda- no school, no errands, and no ferrying kids to classes.  Since my nesting season has stretched beyond summer and into fall, I decided to assign myself one area each Wednesday afternoon to overhaul.  My goal is to PURGE- throw out, donate, consign, and then reorganize.  Our stuff was cluttering my conscience as well as our very few storage spaces.

At this point, my list looks like this:

ü laundry room
ü pantry
ü school room
ü dining room
ü living room
ü nursery
ü downstairs bathroom
    upstairs bathroom
ü mudroom

First off, below is our "school-shelf".  The upper shelves are kept organized because we use them all the time.  Each child has their school books on their shelf.  This keeps me sane and makes it easier to find what I need as I'm teaching.  The open cabinets left and lower are toddler/baby toys for little people who come to play.  Our kids mostly leave them alone so they stay pretty neat. But behind those closed doors, there was a MESS.

I should've taken a before picture but oh, well.  Now they're in order.  The top two shelves are Miriam's painting/playdoh/activity book shelves (she self-soothes with art).  She has easy access to these shelves.  I do not like having tons of "craft" stuff around.  It all ends up in the trash at some point anyway, so why bother (or so goes my theory)? Bottom left are reserve toddler toys and bottom right is MY shelf- school supplies I don't want messed with.  These two doors are lockable for when little people come to play.

My pantry holds all our canned goods but also light bulbs, batteries, some school supplies, appliances, canning equipment, etc. When it gets out of control, I have to climb over things to get to the back.  Oh, the simple joy of being able to walk all the way in.

Our under-the-TV-cabinet holds DVDs and games.  As kids grow so do their tastes in both of these areas.  It felt good to pull out and donate what they no longer watch/play so that other kids can enjoy them.

Below is the top of what we call our "half hutch".  The bottom of it is a cabinet that holds our paper recycling and a shelf of seeds, seed catalogs and gardening notebooks.  On top is where I store cookbooks and homestead-themed books.  Here again, it felt good to donate what we were done with so others could enjoy/benefit from the books.

I LOVE our shoe box.  Jamey built it for me several years back (he also built all the other furniture in this post except the last peice, handy guy that he is).  It's sturdy enough that you can sit on it to put your shoes on and it hides unused shoes (and more).  I found that making compartments (out of cardboard boxes or whatever) made it even better. The blue bucket is dog food (Turkey's bowls are just to the left of it).  There is a compartment for slippers and church shoes (so they don't get dirty from outside/play shoes) and one for work gloves and hats.  The larger area holds shoes that are relatively clean.  The messy ones still sit outside the shoe box lined up under the coat hooks.  I don't mind that they're out.  We're in and out so much it really doesn't make sense to have to put your shoes away-away every time.  The shoes don't always land in their designated spot but at least they have a designated spot, right?

I'm so thankful for our laundry room. It may not be pretty but it holds a washer, dryer and two freezers, AND functions as a catch-all storage area.  There's a lot in this room.  Getting it organized helped me take stock of what I have.  We could have built or had installed cabinets with doors to make it look neater but it would have costed a LOT more.  More flexible storage flexes with your needs (hence the word 'flexible'- I'm quite the word scholar you see).  The laundry room has a door so it can be closed off if it gets out of control.  It's certainly not magazine-worthy (and maybe not even blog-worthy) but it's a real family's real laundry room space.

Because we don't have a lot of storage in our old house, we use furniture.  This dry sink sits in our dining room and (now!) actually sports an empty spot.  I think I should challenge myself to keep it empty for an entire year.  Think I can do it?

Our storage spaces are still holding quite a bit.  But at least now I know that what they are holding we actually use/therefore should hold onto. Everything feels a little bit lighter and my nesting urge has been battened down a bit once again.

Except for where the closets are concerned....I might be back. Pin It

I Don't Want a Cell Phone

But I have a cell phone.

But I don't use it.

Well, I use it when I want to use it.

But no one has the number.

Well, my husband has the number and so does anyone who has my children when I don't.

I don't have the number memorized.

But it is written on blue painters' tape and taped to the back of the phone.

I don't check messages.

I often forget to turn it on when I say I will.

I like not being able to be reached.

But I like having a way to call someone should I need help.

I don't text.

But I feel a little sorry for folks when they text my home phone and I never get the message.

But not bad enough to consider learning to text.

I don't want a smart phone.

I'm already on my computer more than necessary.

I don't want to be lured out of reality more than I'm already lured.

My reality needs me.

I don't want a cell phone.

But it kind of feels like I'm the only one.

For those of you with questions:
1) No, I shouldn't start sentences with the word "but".  But I like to anyway.
2) Yes, I always let my husband know where I'm going in case I forget to turn my phone on.
3) I have an old model tracfone that I spent about $30 on.  Each month, for $10 I get continued service and a bunch of minutes I never use.  Cell phone tip: a phone that's rarely used looks new for a very long time.
4) When our kids learn to drive, they will get a nifty tracfone, too. Pin It

Nesting Spurts of Semi-Ridiculousness

One day last week, mid morning, I followed a link on facebook.  It was about making 30 days of freezer crock pot meals for busy, back to school days.  Hmm.

I tend to avoid crock pot recipes in general because 1) most crock pot meals are meat-based and two out of the five of us don't like meat and 2) I don't want to spend time in the morning (or evening, for that matter) putting things into the crock pot because it's often hard for me to get going in the morning- I don't need one more thing to do.

But freezer crock pot meals...that would mean thawing them the night before and just dumping them in the crock pot in the morning.  They would provide occasional meat meals for those of us to like meat.  They would provide me with a sense of control over meal planning which makes our busy fall seem less daunting.

Sadie and I printed out about seven of the recipes, made a grocery list and we headed out to the store. We got home around noon.  I told the kids they were on their own for lunch (they loved the idea of multiple snacks instead of lunch) and I set up shop.

Side note:  Sometimes, I feel like I am incredibly lazy (and I am) but then other times, I have these crazy notions and launch into adrenaline-driven activity.  There's no rhyme or reason to it.  I just have to ride the wave.

I set up a raw meat station, a veggie chopping station, a cheese station, and a bagging station. I got out my sharpie for labeling, lined up my recipes, elicited some kid-chopping help, and jumped in. Six weary hours later (the adrenaline wore off after the one and a half), I left the kitchen with 15 dinners prepped and in the freezer.

Then, for fear that I would forget what I froze and had available, I made a list for the side of the fridge with a few side ideas and what, if anything, I needed to have available to go with particular meals.  Yes, most are chicken-based.  Yes, using gallon freezer bags to freeze meals takes up very little freezer space (much less than 8x8 or 9x13 pans which is usually how I do it).  No, I have no idea how anything will taste since I haven't tried any of these before.  I basically followed her recipes except that for the Chicken Curry, instead of adding peas to the freezer bags, I'm going to add our frozen chopped spinach at the end of the cooking time.  Also, I'm going to add some frozen broccoli to the end of the Chicken Curry cooking time.

Some of the meals are contained in that box with some rolls and tortillas (to go with the meals) on top.  

Part of this has to do with the nesting phase I'm currently in.  Moving from summer life to homeschooling life is a pretty drastic change for me.  Instead of birthing a baby soon, I'm going to be birthing a school that needs to run semi-smoothly for all our sakes.

And so, I've been squirreling away food, purging and donating unwanted items, repainting rooms (notice the kitchen color change?), rearranging bedroom furniture, vaccuuming curtains (yes, it's a thing) and pulling our books together.

My prayer is that when it comes time to switch gears next week, I can quiet my mind and body and focus on the glorious task at hand- learning with my children.

Does anyone else nest when there isn't a baby involved?

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Vacation: Is it worth it?

My extended family goes on vacation together at the end of July every year.  It's clearly the best time-choice considering that we go up into Canada and spend a week on a lake there.  Late July means less black flies, hot sun and warm water.

And yet no matter how hard we try, it's a crumby time of year to get away.  Every year, Jamey tries his hardest to take into consideration when we'll be away as he plants corn.  He plants different varieties and staggers the plantings, always attempting to hug either side of vacation week.  Instead, every year, we are up late the night before leaving husking, blanching, cutting, and freezing corn.

The tomatoes love to send us off on our travels, too.  It's as if they're using all our well-timed and planned energy against us and instead fight their darnedest to see us off.  And so, the day before we leave (when I should be packing) I'm washing, de-stemming and halving tomatoes to be thrown in the freezer for when I return.

Then there is all the preparations needed for leaving that has nothing to do with packing and preparing a week's worth of food to take along.  One teenage family friend to come and feed/water the pigs, ducks, chickens, and cat (and collect eggs).  A neighbor to gather mail, pick ripening corn and mow for us (they were so gracious to offer to mow).  A cousin's son to cut, bunch and put out sunflowers to keep Sam's business going (Sam paid him, of course) and not waste the yellow beauties.  Oh, and the hamster (did you know Sadie now has a hamster?) was passed to a friend to be hamster-sat (not to be mistaken for the action of sitting on a hamster).

I know that people who live on real farms rarely go anywhere and I completely understand why.

And then there's the coming home.  The long drive overnight to avoid traffic, lines at the border as well as bathroom and food stops (most everyone is sleeping).  After crashing into bed for a few hours of sleep, we're up working hard to unpack and make up for all the time lost while we were away.

My first order of business was to check on our peaches- were they still there?  Well, it appears that our strange carpet tacking strips did the job and kept peach-hungry critters at bay!

We harvested peaches and winter squash, picked tomatoes and peppers, tended to the animals, unpacked and did load after load after load of laundry.  Sam and I worked on getting more sunflowers out by the road.  The hamster needed collecting and we checked in with friends and neighbors who helped hold down the funny farm fort while we were away.

But it's not over yet.  The next several days meant batch after batch of tomato sauce, canning and freezing peaches, sticky floors, piles of dishes, tired legs and feet, and one dehydrated body (why do I always forget to drink when I'm working in the kitchen)?

So.  I pose this question to you.  For all the preparation before and all the catch up work after, is going away worth it to you?

For me, it is.  It's a hiatus.  It's a dream within a dream. It's time to reconnect with nature, family and myself.  And, truth be told...I'd do it six times a year if I could.

 view from the boat

 view from alone time in the cabin

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