Who's the weird One?

Isaac has always comforted himself by sucking his thumb and rubbing his ear.  His preference, though, is to rub someone else's ear.  Often times I glance over when we are in church and see him sitting on his Daddy's lap, sucking his thumb and rubbing Daddy's ear.

The fact is, most of Isaac's siblings won't stand for ear rubbing, but Joseph will, only because he isn't big enough to get away.  The other day I was sitting on the couch with the little boys.  It was getting close to quiet time.  I had Joseph on my lap.  Isaac was sitting right next to me.  He was sucking his thumb and rubbing Joseph's ear.

"Poor Joseph," I said, "He always has to have his ear rubbed."

Isaac took his thumb out of his mouth and said, "Yeah.  Weird!"

Reformation 2014

Our family did host our annual Reformation party this year on Oct. 31.  We didn't have as many people as usual, which made the whole thing more low key.  Less stress made for a more pleasant evening, at least for me anyway.

This year's theme was the Scottish Covenanters.  Grace did an awesome job of heading up game construction in her precious moments of free time.  Elizabeth, Paul, Lydia and even the little boys all worked very hard in the days leading up to the party to make the evening a success.

We had a lovely time of sharing food, fellowship, games and worship.  We even ended the evening with our own conventicle around a bonfire.

Unfortunately, Grandma Dianne was the only one to think to take any pictures.  The Scottish theme was a good excuse to break out the Macduff plaid.  (Matt wore a Macduff plaid tam, but his "kilt" was not Macduff plaid--it was an old flannel sheet.)

A New House Rule

This rule is not one I ever anticipated having to make, but here it is:   Don't pee on your brother's shoes. (Just because you're mad at your brother, does not mean you can pee on his cowboy boots.)

Paul is 13, Part II

When Matt and I were deciding who to ask to Paul's thirteenth birthday party, we knew we wanted to invite men who have poured into Paul's life.  Those men were gracious enough to pick out Bible verses and write letters about manhood to Paul.  It's our hope that Paul will refer to these items in the years to come when he needs encouragement to stay on the narrow road and to fight the good fight.

One person we invited to write to Paul was Rob Bixby (aka Apostle P).  This is the man that Paul asked to sharpen his Dad's knife this past spring.  Paul is a huge fan of the Apostle P You Tube channel.  Mr. Bixby lives across the country, so we knew he couldn't attend Paul's party, but we asked him if he'd be able to write to Paul.  This was a big favor to ask of a stranger, but he did not disappoint.

The other day Matt and I received an email from Mr. Bixby,  He was holding a knife giveaway on his You Tube channel and he wanted to give one of the knives to Paul as a late birthday present.  He told us to watch the announcement of the winners video later that afternoon, in which he intended to announce Paul as a winner.  We were thrilled.

So Matt asked Paul if he knew that the Apostle P was doing a knife giveaway.  Dumb question.  Paul proceeded to name all the knives he was giving away.  Matt took a break from his work to set up our t.v. to stream You Tube.  Paul had no clue what was about to happen.  I walked into the family room and asked, "What are you guys watching?  Who is this guy?" to add to the ruse.

When the Apostle P announced that Paul was the winner of a small Northwoods fixed blade knife donated by Derrick Bohn of KnivesShipFree.com, his eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped.   Paul has wanted a fixed blade for a long time and this was completely unexpected. Needless to say, our son was elated.  Later, when Paul was talking to me more about the knife, he sighed.  It was the type of sigh I hope to one day hear from him when he tells me he has found the woman the Lord wants him to marry.  Until then, I'm happy that knives are the only thing that will elicit that type of sigh from my boy.

As for Paul's Mom and Dad, we were so encouraged by the Lord's provision of a knife for Paul.  Such a small gift in God's economy, but one only the Lord and his parents knew he wanted.  Our family has been going through a bit of a rough patch lately and it cheered us immensely to know that God has His eyes on us.  He hears.  He sees.  He knows.  He is aware of even the smallest details.  What an awesome God we serve!

"And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.  Phil. 4:19

(As I understand it, this knife is quite the knife.  It's heirloom quality.  We made sure Paul knows that.  Also, a knife is certainly not a "need," but it sure is cool that the Lord delights to give His children gifts.  Paul has not been begging for a fixed blade, but Matt and I both knew he really, really wanted one.)

Here's the video of the Apostle P making the announcement (it's at about 5 min. in and lasts about 2 min.):

Paul is 13, Part I

Paul hit a milestone at the end of September.  In our family, we make a pretty big deal of 13th birthdays.  As parents, we want our kids to know that there comes a time in one's life when the business of becoming an adult comes to the fore front.  Fun is certainly not to be eliminated from one's life, but this world is not a playground, it's a battle ground and the time of the teen years should be redeemed, not squandered.

 Each of Paul's two older sisters received cedar chests for their thirteenth birthdays, so Matt and I found ourselves in a bit of a quandary when it came to deciding what to give our firstborn son.  Matt put a lot of thought and prayer into what we should do for the birthday celebration.  After all, Matt knew a precedent would be set for Paul's four younger brothers when they each turn 13.

Matt finally settled on giving Paul an old Army trunk (correct term--footlocker) that was from Paul's great-grandfather, who served in the Korean war.  We ordered a few things to put in the trunk, including a couple of books.  The Pilgrim's Progress is a family favorite and The Wealth of Nations is a book Matt thought would be good reading for a boy who is on the road to manhood.

We had the birthday party at our church so that we could accommodate a larger crowd.  Our pastor, friends, Paul's grandmas and grandpas, godparents and a great aunt and uncle attended.  We started the evening with a dinner of Paul's favorites--ham, cheesy potatoes, his sister's homemade rolls, salad and green beans (which Paul didn't care about, but his mom did).  For dessert we had a traditional family celebration cake, Texas sheet cake.

We then had a time of blessing and worship.  We started with prayer and the singing of  "Holy, Holy, Holy."  Matt then gave a talk on 1 Corinthians 11:7--"For a man ought not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God, but woman is the glory of man."  and 1 Corinthians 16:13-14 " Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong.  Let all that you do be done in love."

I gave a little talk on Hebrews 11:24-26--" By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward." 

Matt asked each of the guests to bring a Bible verse for Paul to the party.  These were read aloud and then the footlocker was presented to Paul.  Paul's Great Uncle Keith also added a piece of advice he received from his father (my Grandpa Paul):  "Don't marry a woman for her money, but don't hold it against her either."  Matt requested that every man who attended write a letter to Paul about manhood. These letters were gathered and put into the footlocker, along with the Bible verses.   

Paul's two older sisters then presented Paul with a brand new Bible with his name inscribed on the front cover.  Part of being a man, Matt said, is learning how to properly handle the Word of God.  So Matt had Paul read Psalm 19 to those in attendance.  We then ended the evening by singing one last hymn, "A Mighty Fortress is Our God."

 Although the evening was a bit overwhelming for Paul, I know he enjoyed it.  He was especially touched that his Grandma Jane, despite being in extreme pain from a broken back, made the long trek down to be at his party (and to Grandpa Tom, who got her there).  Both Matt and I were touched at the outpouring of support for Paul and the time and effort folks put into picking their Bible verses and writing their letters.  I was especially thankful to our friend, Peggy, who helped set up for the dinner and for my mother-in-law, who helped clean up after the party (and for my father-in-law, who made the beans that Paul didn't want).

Suppose I'd Better Get Used to It

Life has changed for me in the past year.  I keep trying to pin down what it is that keeps my head spinning as I struggle to keep all the necessary balls in the air, but I can't seem to do the pinning.  Big kids getting bigger, little kids staying little, homeschooling, canning, mothering, wife-ing, daughter-ing.  I don't know.  I do know I miss having time to write.

To that end, Matt bought me a desk at a thrift store this past weekend. You know how changing one piece of furniture in your house can set off a chain reaction?  That's what happened.  In order to make room for the desk, we had to shift a couple of kids to different rooms (and all of their furniture/stuff).  Then we got rid of the love seat in our bedroom (my sister-in-law took it) and put a recliner from the family room (which traded places with a chair from our bedroom) and the new desk in the love seat's place.  Ta dah!  A new writing space for Melissa.

So far, I've had about fifteen free minutes to utilize it.  This is it.  Right here, right now.

It's been my mission this week to get the four huge boxes of apples that have been sitting in the basement for a month turned into applesauce.  Three boxes down, one to go.

The apples were leftover from apple strudel making.  The apple strudel is prepared every year by the folks of my aunt and uncle's church for their small town's German festival.  Grace, Liz and Lydia helped with the strudel making for a few days at the beginning of September.  A large number of Golden Delicious apples were left over after the 550 strudel for this year's Fest were made. Grace called me and asked if I wanted any.  I groaned.  I literally was elbow deep in canning peaches at the time.  "They're selling them for a great price," she said.  And of course, Golden Delicious apples are my favorite for making apple sauce since they need so little sugar.

"Yes,"  I said.  "I'll take four boxes."  In my mind I was thinking four fruit boxes, but  Grace came home with the equivalent of six or seven fruit boxes.  Turns out my money was no good with the buyer of the apples--a gift which couldn't have come at a better time.

Since I let the apples sit for so long, they've become nice and yellow.  I haven't needed to add any sugar to the sauce, so I'm very pleased.  I'm also pleased because when things around me seem to be spinning out of control, I can make a huge mess of the kitchen, drop some jars in the canner and produce something that my family needs.   Isaac keeps pointing to the jars on the table and asking, "Mom, are these for the winter?"  Yes, son, they are.

As an added bonus, I've been using my very own Kitchen Aid apple sieve this year instead of borrowing my mother-in-law's.  She and Dad have been scouring Ebay for several years for the Kitchen Aid mixer attachment that is no longer made.  They found success this year and purchased a sieve for me.  I think this little gadget is the best thing I've ever seen for making applesauce because it's a hands free device.  While the mixer is doing the work, I can be getting other things done around the kitchen (and so can my little helpers).

So I suppose I'd better get used to this new season of life.  At least we'll have applesauce to enjoy with it.

Monday

I meant to get this post written on Monday, but alas it did not happen.  I guess it shows what kind of week I've had that I'm just now getting to it on Friday.

We were still dragged out from a long weekend when we woke up on Monday morning.  My little guys got up with runny noses and coughs.  Yes, that means that within the next few weeks, I can anticipate all of us getting sick.  Our first winter cold--in September.

My first order of business for the day was to pack lunches for Matt and Grace.  I was sending Matt off to what I knew would be a tough day at work, so things were already a bit tense.  Then Matt accidentally burned Joseph as he was dishing him some eggs.  As he pushed the eggs from the skillet onto the high chair tray, Joseph moved his arm and scraped it against the hot skillet.  He started howling immediately.  I quickly grabbed the baby, ran cold water over the small area that was burned and settled him down.  The burn blistered a bit.  I applied coconut oil to it throughout the day, mostly to make myself feel better.

After Matt and Grace left, I got showered and sat down to work on Bible study with the kids.  It didn't take me long to determine that the younger kids would not make it to BSF that evening.  I didn't want them to spread their cold germs.

Then I scurried around doing I can't remember what until 2:30 p.m.  All I know is that I distinctly remember it was one half hour into quiet time by the time I got into my bed to rest my weary bones and brain for a bit.  Ten minutes later, Paul came into my room.

He had a tourniquet around his hand.  He asked me if I could help him put on a band aid.  When I saw that the color was drained from his face, I told him that he'd better sit down at the kitchen table. Let me just interject here.  I don't do well with blood.  Blood and barf.  I can handle any other grossness that motherhood throws at me, but I can't handle blood and barf.  So I steeled myself before I removed the tourniquet.  It took me one quick look to realize that a band aid would not be sufficient.

I put the handkerchief back on Paul's hand and told him to get into the van.  I gave Elizabeth instructions for child care and dinner prep and then Paul and I headed to the urgent care clinic.  I hate that place.  I swear if you don't die of whatever ailment brought you there, you'll expire from the long wait. On the way there, Paul explained what had happened.  He'd been splitting kindling and the hatchet had slipped.

When I asked the woman behind the front desk how long the wait would be and told her my son had cut his hand, she asked, "Is his hand bleeding?"  I answered, "Oh yes, it's bleeding."  She said, "Oh. Well, we'll take you right back then."  Score!

Once the nurse saw Paul and she determined we would not have to go to the ER, the doctor came in to take a look.  She asked Paul how he'd done it.  After telling her, she said, "Well at least you did it doing some manly thing instead of playing Xbox or something."

She numbed the finger with an injection of Lidocaine (the worst part of the whole procedure) and then she sewed up the cut with six stitches.  In and out in a hour and a half.  That's my tip.  Go into the urgent care actively bleeding to avoid a long wait.

The rest of the week has gone by in a blur.  Tomorrow, our first born son, Paul, will turn 13.  I sure hope he'll get wiser as he gets older.  He already seems to be heading in the right direction.  He's fashioned himself a kindling holder so that his hand will be well clear of the hatchet as it comes down on the wood.