Cultus 2009

Another wonderful Cultus memory has been logged on the fingerprints of our family. This year was by far the most usual trip, as we went without my parents or my sister and her family. I have never gone without my folks. Though we missed them all dearly, we had an amazing time. It was incredible to experience Cultus all on our own. So,little five-year-old Jackson tried his hand at skiing. And he did great. He would get all geared up for it, all the equipment on, wanting so badly to keep up with big brother. And then just as the boat is pulling the rope taunt, you can hear him say, "Uh, I want to do this later. I will do it today, but just not now." And that is the point were we would say, "Here we go, sweetie! Hit it!" And he would hang on for dear life. When he was done he was beyond proud of himself.

And Davis promised Grandpa (who was not with us, remember) that he would "ski every day." And he kept to his word. He took that promise incredibly seriously. What is more, he decided that "the red skis" (smallest size, tied together, rope handle connected to them) were no longer for him. He was intent on mastering "the grey ones" that are significantly bigger and not tied together. Its a big jump to go to these ones. I was impressed by his tenacity and courage. I think he was too.
This is the only picture it seems I snapped of Baby D. He is army-crawling now, so I set up this play yard with a blanket below him and canopy above. He was pretty content. And when he wasn't, there were a number of arms holding him (thank you Pam, Dean et al!).

Dad let us take his boat up (another HUGE first) and Ryan was a master. He drove the truck and trailer like he had been doing it for years. He pulled up to buoys and docks like a super-cool dude. Just look at him. He is so groovy.

Though I would have preferred to be asleep, I did catch a sunrise one morning on my way to the outhouse.

And to keep the record straight, sleep was a bit elusive. But the baby was not the problem. He slept every camping night for 12 hours straight. Not a single night waking. Weston, on the other hand, was his regular self and woke up randomly several times each night. Jackson woke once to a full bladder and couldn't fall asleep again in the "big boy tent." He traded places with Ryan and slept much better that night. And yes, the two older boys slept in their own tent. I still can't believe they were willing to do that. Don't tell them this, but I would NEVER have slept in a tent without my parents. Not even into high school.

Our last day camping (the day we broke camp) it rained all day long. The kids hardly noticed and just played right through it. Fun to the last drop!

See you next year, Cultus!!

Diamond Lake Fun!

Diamond Lake this year was a blast! We stayed longer than I have ever stayed, with fewer people that I have ever experienced. It was pretty much just our crazy family of six, plus Grandma and Grandpa Glover. We rode bikes, got dirty, swam, got dusty, roasted marshmellows (or as jackson calls it, "marshed some mellows"), got sticky, fished, got stinky, bathed, got filthy... etc., etc., etc.

The real bonus for me is the fact that I slept!! Do you remember last year?? I do.

Thank you, Doug and MaryAnn, for a wonderful trip together. Thanks for letting us hog your time all to ourselves. And thanks for cooking for us, and for watching the baby while we played.

The 4th, a bit delayed, but what's new...

We were over at the Wilson's for the forth (along with 42 other people). We had a really nice time. Jen and Andy set things up to maximize the fun for the kids (and the grown Moffat twins), and the shade for the adults. (It was a HOT day!) A big highlight of the evening were the street fireworks. The stockpile of Oregon gun powder was pretty impressive. I think the dads lit of fireworks for 45 minutes straight. Man, oh, man did those dads have fun! Here is the line up of kids enjoying the fireworks. Twenty in all. A handful of babies were asleep inside, too...

My boys really enjoyed themselves. Look here at Davis. He was thrilled when one of the dads gave him this firework. Just look at his intensity. (Of course, if you know Davis at all, you know that there is more acting in that pose than true I'm-gonna-blow-something-up desire. He's got enough "Safety-Doug" in him to keep the whole family safe.

Anyway, he posed for this picture and then Ryan (or someone, I can't recall) lit it for him while it was still in his hand. He brought his arm back in a strong launching position and hollared, "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" and just about threw it with all his might. (Remember, there were 19 other kids here and there... throwing fireworks in this - or any - scenario is not real wise.) Just about every grown up there suddenly yelled, "NO! Don't throw it, Davis!!" He stopped, and his face said something like, "huh? What ELSE would I do with a grenade?"

And in true Davis fashion, he went from this pose, to the one you see below in a matter of 20 seconds. Can you say thespian?

Jackson was quite impressed by all the whirring, wizzing and popping of the fireworks. He sat pretty still, cheering from a safe distance like all the rest of the kids. Isn't the sky behind him beautiful (or as Weston would say, "bee-you-foo-foo")?

Thanks, Wilsons, for a fun party. I hope the clean up in the morning was not too bad for you. Church sure came early for our family after an 11:00PM bedtime... Glad it is just once a year!

Planning for Easter at Our House

I grew up with nice memories of Easter egg hunts and always an impressive basket sitting on the fireplace in our living room. My sister and I would go through the baskets in the same way we would explore our Christmas stockings. The baskets had some candy in them, but Mom always had gifts in them as well. Jewelry, maybe a shirt, a CD perhaps, and other cool stuff that made Easter a holiday to really look forward to. I have taken those memories and added a couple of twists that keep the excitement of Easter alive, but moves the excitement of the gifts toward encouraging spiritual growth. As a result, Easter is probably my most favorite holiday of the whole year.

Here is what we do.

When the kids wake up there are baskets (buckets, actually) next to their door. They get to take their buckets and go on an egg hunt. The eggs have one or two jelly beans in each of them but the eggs the kids REALLY want to find are the ones with NO candy.



Its called "the empty tomb egg hunt." The real gift of Easter is the risen Jesus, right? That tomb was empty - which was the first sign of the ultimate gift: our risen savior! Candy is yummy and all, but when the kids find the empty eggs, they know they are very near the REAL gift: the family's easter basket

Rather than one basket for each member of the family, we do just one basket for the whole family. And each gift inside the basket is a means to the same end: spiritual growth. I save up a nice pile of cash and make some investments in great resources for the family. Last year, Davis received his first Bible cover (something he was SO excited about), Weston got his own set of not-yet-scratched-up CDs "The Word and Song Bible," Jackson got David and Goliath action figures. I bought myself and Ryan books that would encourage both of us in our quest to be godly parents.

I had so much fun online shopping this year. You wanna know what it is the basket?
The Children's Illustrated Bible
The Jim Elliot Story: The Torchlighters Series, DVD
Seeds Music CD (thanks for the recommendation, Ginger!)

I got myself an accessory so I can listen more easily to sermons on an MP3 player. I got something for my hubby, too, but I'll keep that quiet until Easter.

Happy Birthday to Me.

Some sixteen years ago, after Ryan and I had been dating a mere 3 months, we had a funny conversation that we always remember every February 2nd. The story goes something like this:

Ryan had not known me long enough to know just how much of a birthday brat I am and so when I told him on that cold January day, "My birthday is coming up soon, you know." He wracked his brain nervously, wanting so desperately to impress his first and only girlfriend he had ever had. "Yeah. Your birthday is February 2nd!"
Offended that he had not remembered the correct date (he clearly did not know that it is a national holiday), I answered with a huff and a puff, "February 2nd?! No! It's August 1st! How could you not remember?!"
"You said it was 'coming up soon!' August is not soon! You tricked me."
"No, I did not trick you. August is coming up soon. Its only 8 months away and then its my birthday!"

So now, every year, he wishes me Happy Birthday on February 2nd, and begins his preparation for the national holiday that is "just around the corner."

I have proof that I am a Mean Mom

Before I give you the proof, I have a potpourri of funny little things to share.

Here are some more cryptic questions from Jackson:
Out of the blue, with no context whatsoever, not pointing to anything, Jackson asks me, "Is this the front of everything?" And then later, "Why is this the kitchen?"

And here is Jackson's rendition of Chris Tomlin's song "Indescribable." Imagine a four-year-old singing at the very tippy, tippy top of his very powerful lungs...
"Untribe-able! Uncontainable! You and the stars and my knees and the Sky's and my ridge... You are amazing, God!!"

And a short - very short - conversation with Davis yesterday went like this:
Mom: Are your lips chapped? Do you want some chap stick?
Davis: Let's not discuss it.

Finally, my proof:
I gave myself the "best wife award" when I surprised the family with a Wii for Christmas. I learned today that apparently I did not earn the "best mom award" that same day. Here is the writing that my son came from school with today: "On Christmas moning I woke my bruthr up. We wint to the Christmas tree. My Mommy was olretee (already) ther. We watite for my Daddy. Then my Daddy finulee kame wot (out). We storted to opin preses. I liked ol (all) uv our preses but the most bestist preset that we got was a Wii. I asct to plae. My mommy sed no."

Honestly, I don't remember saying no. I guess "no" is the answer that comes out when I am not really listening to the question. Proof, indeed, that I am a mean mom.

Happy New Year!

We hosted a New Year's Eve party again this year, but this time we celebrated East Coast time. So New Year's was 9pm, not midnight! It was so much fun.

There were 20 kids (!!) nearly all of them were under 5 years of age. They all played dress-up for a long time. The kids (and their moms) all enjoyed making these cool noisemakers. The kids and grown-ups alike made their own banana splits. The guys and some of the kids played Mario Cart and other Wii games. The evening ended at 9pm, when we all ventured onto the deck and watched a short but impressive fireworks display.

Thanks, everybody, for making the party a success! We'll do it again next year!!

What, Exactly, Do You Mean by "Vacation?"

We "vacationed" over the holiday weekend. If you have young kids like we do, then we all know that the proper way to use the word vacation is with quotes. As in, we "vacationed" over the holiday weekend but it was more work than home and we all got significantly less sleep and now I am so glad to be home so I can relax.

Our "vacation" was a quasi-camping trip. We tent camped, but had the convenience of a rustic cabin on the property so we could escape the elements when necessary. The days were fun. Really fun. The kids played in the water, biked, fished, and invented new ways to get dirty. My Mother- and Father-in-Law were there and they helped entertain and feed the kids, and my Sister- and Brother-in-Law were their with their two kids, who provided additional hours of play for my boys. So the days were generally relaxing and nothing to complain about. But the nights were a different story.

The nights were like something out of a torture camp, where the victims are allowed to not quite fall asleep before being awoken again. The first night's sleep was one child after another having one issue or another. Itchy mosquito bites so filled one child's body that they woke him up in tears (thank you, Benedryl, for saving my son from certain torture), another of my children had a night terror (where do you take a screaming child that won't stop and won't stop and won't stop? Thank you, Dodge Grand Caravan, for being semi-sound-proof), another of my children cried out every 30 minutes or so for one reason or another - none of which I will ever know (thank you, Lord, for prompting me to bring 832 binkis for just such an occassion).

Our second night gave some relief, but the third night topped it all, with the baby waking at 2AM and crying and crying and crying until 4AM when he decided that it was just time to be awake. "Hi-eeee, hi-eeeeee" he kept saying over and over again until I finally grabbed my coat and the baby and got in the van for "a little drive around the lake."

I popped in a little bit of City on a Hill music and began my journey - not sure what I was hoping for. I knew that he would not sleep and I felt a hopeless in that regard, but I took solace in the fact that we were warm and he was happy to be along for the ride. And 30 minutes later, we were beginning the second lap around the lake and I was wondering how many times we would pass our tent before I could nestle myeslf back into my sleeping bag. And being pregnant with #4, I was also contemplating how many more camping trips I would have to endure where sleep was so incredibly elusive. I was wanting to let myself cry, yet tears would not come.

With no other alternatives, I just kept on driving.

And then pre-dawn hit. Have you ever seen pre-dawn? It's like hope written into the sky. It's that time of day when everything is still dark, but slowly you can start seeing the outline of the trees against the lake. The outline of the mountain in the distance can be made out, and you can see the clouds - just barely - against the night sky. It is breathtaking.

And then the Lord reminded me that in all things, even suffering, we are to rejoice. And He gave that to me. The Lord filled my mind with one prevading thought: You are tired, but you are tired because the God of the Universe gave you the most amazing gift when he gave you your children. If not for the sleep-deprivation, you would not have these wonderful blessings. And with that thought, my heart lightened and I was rejoicing in my suffering. And I know that the Apostle Paul was enduring much worse when he wrote those words, but I gained this new-found understanding of what he was referring to. It is not that Paul enjoyed the suffering, it is that he knew that if it weren't for the blessing of knowing Christ, the suffering would not be there. And Christ in his life was such an incredibly precious thing to him that he said that he would gladly suffer, as I would gladly suffer. I would much rather endure sleep deprivation and have the blessing of my children, if the alternative is to get good sleep but be without my children.

And so, at 4:30 in the morning, as I watched the sky slowly lighten , I was filled with Christ's joy. I do not wish a terrible night's sleep on anyone, but I do pray that every mom would have the opportunity to see the pre-dawn of hope that Christ offers, and the deep privilege it is to raise children to the Lord.

Christmas 2007

What fun Christmas is. Such a flurry of activity and blur of wrapping paper. In the space of 36 hours, we celebrated in three different homes: with Grandpa/ma Glover, Grandpa/ma Snodgrass, and at our own home. Here are our snaps, all jumbled together.

At Grandma & Grandpa Glover's house

At our home

Our little ham (he literally poses whenever the camera comes out! It makes taking pictures of him a joy!)


At the last minute, I threw a little red bell (bigger than a choking hazard) into his stocking. It was by far his favorite thing of the day. It you are wondering, the bell is in his mouth in this picture. He is doing his best to smile around it.

Cousin Jenna and a bit of her purple splendor. We had to convince her to take the gloves off a number of times so that she could function (i.e. open gifts, eat her dinner, put her shoes on). It's tough to do much of anything with slipppery gloves on. But one thing is for sure, SHE LOVED THEM!

A favorite gift of Jackson's was a football helmet and uniform (Seahawks, of course). I had to convince him to remove it to go to bed that night. He is our little football fanatic. Today he woke up asking when he could play tackle with Daddy. It is going to be a long 9 hours until daddy gets home!

Davis, with a winning smile, loved everything inside his stocking...especially the oraanges!

An event worth noting, we took a staged picture of Grandma and Grandpa Snodgrass with the grandkids (we never do that!).

It was a good Christmas.