Wordless Wednesday - Fruits of Our Labor

Every morning after I let the chickens out to free-range, I inspect our garden beds to see how things are coming. Today, I found something very exciting...


Our first strawberries!

We started our strawberry patch almost immediately after moving in last year, watered the tiny, new plants almost every day, fenced in the patch, weeded, mulched, waited and prayed. Now it looks like our patience and hard work have begun to pay off!

I firmly believe they were the sweetest strawberries I've ever tasted, just because I know we grew them oursevles. Mmmmmm!

Breakfast of Champions

It seems that no matter how far out of reach I think I've put my camera, the kids always manage to get a hold of it. Today, I was uploading what I thought were just some pictures of the garden for our farm blog, and found this...



And Emily wonders why her little brother randomly comes up and tries to fight with her at odd moments.

And I wonder why my husband doesn't think we should have any more. Silly me.

Mama Braggin' Monday - Stepping Up

I know it's been forever and a day since I posted anything here (again), but this time it really was beyond my control. You see, my baby got sick. Sweet little Mary, the happiest baby in the world and best all-night sleeper I've ever given birth to, has had some kind of stomach virus for an entire week now. The poor little thing has been totally miserable, and the only way she got any sleep (for more than five minutes at a time) was if she was held.

Have you ever held a sick child in your arms literally all night?

Have you ever held a sick child in your arms for four nights in a row?

Yeah, I did that. And the result is strained shoulder muscles for yours truly. Kind of like getting a crick in your neck from sleeping wrong, ratcheted up to the Nth degree. Until today, I've been one big blob of pain in the upper right half of my body, and Lord help me when a muscle spasm hit!

And this is where the bragging comes in, because I have the BEST daughters any injured mom could hope for. While I was going back and forth between heat pads, ice packs and massages from Daddy to get the ache out, my big girls have stepped up to the plate. They stayed on top of their chores, took turns holding the baby, helped keep Ben and Sarah amused, and generally just pitched in everywhere else as much as they could, all without a single grumble. Because of them, I don't have quite as much cleaning to catch up on as I would have otherwise. And they've done it all with smiles, love and gladness to be helpful.

Thanks girls, I really don't know what I would've done without you. Mwah!

Have your kids made your heart burst with love and pride this week? Brag about it!

Thanks to Donna at Way More Homemade for creating "Mama Braggin' Monday" and letting me get in on the fun, too.

Bedtime

"Time for bed, Benjamin."

He's only four, and already he's perfected the art of pouting about bedtime.

"Come on, honey, let's go brush your teeth."

Grudgingly, he follows me to the bathroom, his slow steps trying to postpone the inevitable end to the evening.

"Mommy, you do it?"

His subtle way of telling me that just because he has to go to bed now doesn't mean he willingly participates in this decision. I agree to brush his teeth for him, not to coddle him or hurry him along, but because I understand. He doesn't want to be disobedient, he just doesn't want to stop having fun yet.

Seeing him watching me with his mouth open as the brush goes back and forth, I slowly change my expression to a silly face.

He grins.
My eyes cross.
He laughs.
I laugh.
Toothpaste slips out of his mouth and down his chin, causing us both to laugh even harder.
"Mommy!....Stop!" between giggles and snorts.
"Okay, okay." I smile at his smile.

And we laugh again.

Finished now, he silently holds his arms out to me. The request is clear. Without a word, I scoop him up and carry him up the stairs, arms and legs wrapped tight around me.

The solemness returns as we say our prayers, and he turns his back to me. The silence stretches out in the darkness until suddenly he turns towards me again. Arm reaching out to encircle my neck, he pulls close and asks, "Stay with me?"

I am flooded with the memory of our first evening together.

Reclining on my bed, surrounded by a sea of pillows, I held this precious babe in my arms as he drifted off to sleep. My prayer was answered. My son was here with me.

He pulls close and asks, "Stay with me?"

Gladly, my son. For as long as you want me.

Wordless Wednesday - They Start So Young

While Mom and Dad have been busy getting work done on the farm, here's what the kids are up to....

Benjamin (4) showing his little sister Sarah (2) the finer points of playing Curious George games on PBSKids.org. They jump at every chance they get to play there. Tell me I'm not the only one with children this young already doing this sort of thing...please?!?!

Check out 5 Minutes for Mom for more Wordless Wednesday fun!

And the winning number is....

Sorry for being late with this. It didn't dawn on me when I chose the deadline that it would be Easter weekend. Gah!

Well, better late than never, right? So, let's get right to it.

And the winning number, as determined by Random.org is.....



And the #3 comment came from....




Congratulations punkinmama! You've won the $50 gift certificate to AllModern.com!

Thank you to everyone for being part of my first sponsored giveaway!

On Turning Forty-One

There's no gentle way to put this, so I'm just gonna say it right out loud.

I'm forty-one years old now.

Forty-one years.

Oh my gosh, I can't stop staring at those words. Forty-one years old.

Forty-one.

Years.

Old.

I was talking to the receptionist at the dentist's office the other day, and she was telling me a funny story about how she left her purse at home, even after she'd put it right by the front door just so she wouldn't forget it, right? And she says, "I'm just so forgetful! Can you imagine how bad I'll be when I get to be..." And there, she stopped awkwardly, her cheeks turning bright red as I finished her sentence.

"...as old as me?" I asked politely.

But I'm not worried about it. No, not at all. Not me.

When I got my haircut two weeks ago, the hairdresser asked me if I'd like to try wearing my part on the side because "...it might help you look more...umm...youthful."

Nope, not worried one bit.

Because looking old, acting old and being old are very separate things. And what really matters, when you come right down to it? Does it bother me that girls in their twenties see me as one of the "older" women? Not at all. Because, Lord willing, it means I'm working my way towards this: "Then they (older women) can train the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God." Titus 2:4-5

All these years I've felt like every other wife and mother in the world knew the secrets and tricks on how to do it all (and there are plenty of days when I still do.) But when I stop trying to reach for some false illusion of being and doing it all, I have to admit that I really do have my act together a bit better than I give myself credit for. I know more now than I did five years ago, way more than ten years ago, and...well, I was an idiot twenty years ago. (Don't scoff, it's true. I couldn't even fix spaghetti properly.) (And that's pretty sad for an Italian.) So why should I feel bad about reaching a point where I can start sharing that wisdom with the next generation?

"Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life." Proverbs 16:31

Haven't gotten the gray hair yet, but I'll embrace it when it comes.