Love Reunited

Scott had to go into work this morning to debrief and in-process (lots of paperwork!), so I have a little while to post...

As you've probably deduced, this means HE IS BACK!!!!

He was delayed by about 5 hours, which threw off many of our plans, but the important thing is that he's home. I have not taken any pictures myself, but I will have some to share here very soon. In the meantime, if these links will work, you can see a few at Leah Jung's Photography page on Facebook and the FB page for Scott's squadron (some PA people were sent out to cover our story!)

We had planned to surprise Emily and Katy at school...their teachers and the principal were all in on it! However, after the final notice that the flight had been delayed again, there was no way to get (with Scott) to the school before it let out for the day, and I didn't have enough time to drive all the way there to get them and still make it back to the base in time to meet the plane! I'll confess: I sorta panicked. I didn't know what to do, and I was already a little frazzled just from the adrenaline of the day and having very little sleep the night before (only about 2 1/2 hours...another long story.) Oh, did I mention that I had a friend-photographer who was going to take pictures of Scott's first meeting with Julia, and that I'd called around to make sure it was okay with every recommended authority for the past month?? Well, I did...and everyone said they *thought* it was okay, and no one would give me a definite yes or no. Everyone just said the same thing: "Have her go out with you and snap as many pics as possible, and if someone says something, then stop." Weeelllll...once we arrived at the terminal, one of the first things we were told was "ABSOLUTELY no cameras!" This was followed shortly by: "We only have room for 10 family members on the bus, so all you [gazillions of family members who are waiting to greet your loved one] need to decide amongst yourselves who gets to go and who will wait here."

I'm not joking. At that point, there were four people just for Scott...five, if you counted Leah (the photographer). And there were probably 10 other people waiting with us at that point, and doubtless more would be showing up.

I asked if there was a way to get a second bus, but there's an exercise going on right now (dumb reason), and another group getting ready to deploy (good reason), so no more buses could be spared for "something like this."

Gr.

Anyway, I was disappointed about the pictures, but was holding it together, but after the delay notification that meant the plans with the girls fell through, I couldn't even think straight. I mean, it would be awesomely amazing to surprise them at school, but it would be demoralizingly LAME to go pick them up when school has been out for two hours and they have no clue what's going on...or worse, that someone TOLD them what was going on and they knew they'd been "left behind." The very thought of what that would do to their little hearts was causing mine to break. I called my mom to get ideas since my brain wasn't capable of generating any on its own. One of her suggestions was enough for me to run with...

SO, I called the only two people I could think of to call to see if one of them could nab the girls from school FOR me (saving me about 10-20 minutes) and bring them to the base (but still not telling them what was going on. They were under the impression they had a dentist appointment, which they did originally and that I had rescheduled when I got word of Scott's return; I just didn't correct them.) My thought was that MAYBE they'd make it in time to meet Scott with us...and if it looked like they couldn't make it in time, someone they love (and who loves them) would have them and we could just surprise them elsewhere.

My sweet friend, Holland, was the friend I reached first, and she graciously agreed to run over and get my girls...and the principal, who is also amazing, allowed us some exceptions based on our circumstances. (Normally, if there is a change to plans, a parent has to either go up there in person or send a written/signed note...phone calls aren't accepted generally because voices can't be recognized well enough to make sure it's really the parent calling. It's just a security precaution. However, my name came up on their caller ID--giving them some documentable protection, just in case--and they already knew the whole situation. WIN!) Holland made it to the main gate just as the big blue bus was pulling up to the terminal. So I RAN to the car (and left the 3 littles with Leah) and drove as quickly as I thought I could get away with. (Just being honest.)

We made it back to the terminal (the girls were still clueless) just as the blue bus was pulling away. My heart lurched, but I went on inside...it was the "other" bus that was taking the guys who were deploying out to the flight line. PHEW!!!! So, we made it!

However, now that meant that there were at least SIX of us...and still only 10 slots for the bus.

Around this time, another lady (a seasoned military/deployment-enduring wife) came over (or maybe it was before this? I can't remember...) and said she'd overheard pieces of our story as I was talking to my mom on the phone. She'd heard that Leah wasn't going to be allowed to take pictures for us, and she went over to the Public Affairs (PA) office and told them. They sent over a couple of people, one with a camera, and asked if they could take pictures of our reunion for their facebook page and (possibly) other publications, and if they could have a short interview. I agreed, grateful for the opportunity to have this special meeting documented and also for a possible opportunity to get to tell [potentially a LOT of] people about how God has brought us through these past 4 months!!

THEN, the terminal people (for lack of something better to call them) again made an announcement that only 10 family members could be on the bus. I was hugely disappointed, but resolved to stay in the terminal with all the kids; I mean, taking up 3/5 of the slots for just our family hardly seemed fair. But THEN they said that Julia and I HAD to go because the PA people had come, but that all the other kids would have to stay behind!

NO. WAY. I really wasn't willing to budge on this. (And, frankly, I still can hardly believe that anyone would seriously suggest it.)

Anyway, it was eventually decided that, if you held a kid/kids on your lap, you'd count as just one person, and the guy in charge of the whole bus thing (some MSgt.) made sure that ALL the kids were able to get on the bus with me.

Just as we were getting ready to pull out, I saw Leah run past the window with her camera. As she got on, she said "This guy just came over and told me to get on the bus and to take my camera!" He also told her to just take pictures at will, and if anyone said something to her, to just put her camera away at that point.

!!!!!!!

[Side note: I get the way that this ties into OPSEC, but seriously? At airshows, people take pictures ALL the time, and no one worries about blurring out nametapes or tail numbers or any of that...so...uh....]

SOOOOOOOOOO, our whole family got to meet Scott together AND Leah was able to take pictures of it all AND the McConnell Public Affairs people documented it AND...

God worked it all out.

I had posted the following as my Facebook status when everything seemed to be falling apart (while I was trying to figure out how to save my girls from having their hearts broken): "[Shannon] wants to cry. What a comfort to know God is not surprised. Praying that I'll walk in that comfort instead of disappointment."

Regrettably, I did still really struggle with being anxious and disappointed; however, I don't think it was the characterizing attitude of my heart! God was so gracious in helping me redirect my thoughts and trust that He really would work it all out in a way that was best for us and glorifying to Him...even if it was a near-constant back-and-forth battle. :) Thank you so so so much to all of you who were praying for us!!! (And I'm sorry for any unnecessary concern caused by my vague FB post!)

The most important thing is that God brought Scott home whole and safe, and our family is all together again. Praise Him!!!


(I will share pictures here, too, whenever I get the CDs. :) I can't wait to see them, but it's infinitely better in person!) :) :) :)

Almost There...

I serve an amazing God. He has provided so much more than even what we have needed, and among these blessings are many amazing friends. Thank you, to each of you, for your prayers, encouragement, support, and humor, especially over these past months of deployment.

Many people have asked when Scott will be home, so I'll answer that:

SOON!

I apologize for being vague, but I know more about things like OPSEC this time around than I did before, and I'm trying my hardest to play by the rules. :) Granted, being candid on a public blog probably blurs some of those lines (for example, anyone who reads this knows that my husband has been gone), butchaknow I try to use some discretion.

ANYHOO...We're getting close to the end of this season, and it's been interesting to ponder some of the things the Lord has brought us through!
Here's a partial list:
1. Unpacking and settling a new home
2. My youngest son getting staples in his head from an injury I caused
3. Replacing an essential means of communication with my husband across thousands of miles
4. The end of the school year/beginning of the summer
5. Having a baby
6. Keeping everyone, including the new baby, alive for many weeks
7. Learning to be assertive with my landlord (and others)...because, apparently, some people require it in order to get their job done
8. Housing evacuees from my hometown due to wildfire(even if they were the most helpful guests ever...and my parents!)
9. The end of "summer" (though not of the heat) and the beginning of a new school year
10. Learning to see things with new eyes, and the beauty the comes in trusting the Lord (even if many/most of the time, this might've been because I had no alternative) :)

These are just what I've personally been brought through during the deployment...there were many others during this time, and many from right before Scott left as well.

God has proven Himself over and over and over to be THE Rock when all else has seemed shaky and unsure. It is an immense blessing that things have gone so smoothly. I know that I know that I know that it is ALL because of Him.

That is what makes what I'm about to reveal so ridiculous. (Note: everything below was actually written about 3 weeks ago. I'm posting it here because its shadows still remain in my heart, though they are lessening dramatically each day, and also because I still covet your prayers.)

The other day, I mentioned again that I struggle with fear. One of my other major sin areas is my "need" to be in control...or to delude myself into believing I'm in control...or to fake that I'm actually in control by practically killing myself as I try to achieve perfection.

The two are absolutely linked, fear and "control," at times making the difference (if there ever actually is one) imperceptible.

I seek to be in control because I'm fearful of what has happened in the past, what is happening now, or what might happen at some point in the future. And I am most fearful when I feel the most out of control.

Not surprisingly, this means that biblical submission to my husband (or to God...or to any authority, really) does not come...uh...naturally. You know that part in Genesis 3?
(v. 16 b) "Your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you."
Yeah, there's no mistaking that I am a Daughter of Eve.

I've been able to see growth in this area of life, by God's grace, and at times I forget to pay attention to the many subtle (and some not-so-subtle) ways I can be controlling. Or, (and maybe you've been here, too), I just start to think, "hey, I'm doing better!" And then I proceed to fall flat on my face.

Here's my current [and pretty raw] fear: my hubby will be home soon. *insert wild happy dance here!!!* Many of you are probably thinking that I'm a complete idiot if I can find anything to be disturbed about by that! (And I'm inclined to agree with you!) But the thing is, I'm realizing how used to being without him I've become. I hate that. It's such an odd dichotomy to have the very things that give me a sense of accomplishment, encouragement, and motivation to continue pressing on, simultaneously flood my heart with guilt that I've somehow become "okay" with doing them alone. :(

Maybe I can illustrate...

-Keeping the household running: He has yet to actually live in this house. We moved in, he left a few days later and was gone for a month. When he came back, he was only here for 3 weeks before deploying, and most of that time was spent handling issues at work...and cleaning out the garage. He doesn't know where I keep the extra toilet paper, let alone how I've organized the kitchen. He won't know where to find the ibuprofen if he has a headache. Naturally, these things are relatively easy to learn (and hopefully some of it, at least, will make sense and be rather intuitive...that was my goal.) But will I be able to relax and let mistakes and messes happen? I've had my own way with cleaning, only my own agenda and priorities (because, just being honest, the kids' opinions about things doesn't carry as much weight), and no one around with the motivation or the authority to tell me I'm making mountains out of molehills. I'm pretty well entrenched my "I rule the universe house" mentality!

-Baby stuff: Julia is an amazing baby all around. One of my favorite things about her is that she sleeps at night...for, like, 11+ hours...and this makes it possible for me to function. She is on a really easy-to-work-with schedule, and I have no trouble telling exactly what she needs when she cries, which is, itself, a rarity. I know that I have not made her this way, that it's not my planning that has made her "fall in line." I KNOW this, but for some reason, I still have a mild panic attack when I consider changing our routine. What if it throws her off and she starts waking up every 2 hours? What if she loses her pleasant, mellow streak and starts crying non-stop ALL the time?? What if she morphs into the WORST BABY IN THE UNIVERSE??!? And WHAT IF all of that happens because I "submitted" to a change in routine. (The quotation marks are important.)

Please know that I do, in fact, realize what a crazed lunatic I sound like as I ask these questions, that these are not really legitimate concerns.
Please also know that I have actually had these thoughts...and that I feel like I should slap myself in the face for thinking them!

I have [had] a "bad baby." (God bless you, Collin. I love you so much and wouldn't change you for anything...but, wow.)

And you know what? Even IF these fears materialized, it would be okay. God gives sufficient grace, always, to make it through whatever circumstance I'm facing...and to make it through well.

So, really, my problem is:

1) I'm awfully concerned with my own comfort...more concerned about it, actually, than I am about many much more important things.

2) I'm trying to formulate a plan/schedule/method that will facilitate my comfort, and I'm pouring energy into that rather than, say, the kingdom of God and the hearts that are around me.

3) (1) + (2) = I have made my "control" a priority, unwittingly, because my fear has become an idol.

Ouch.

Please pray for me as I try to prepare (as much as possible) for our family's reintegration...I cannot WAIT to have my hubby back, living life with us...in person! And please pray for Scott and the kids, too! I truly don't think it's possible that I could be more excited to have him home, more hopeful about what those first weeks will hold, or more nervous about all the various ways I could mess it up. I'm so thankful God is the one in charge and not me!!

Motherhood...

A friend of mine shared this article on Facebook today, and I thought many of you would love it as well.

"Does the Bible teach us that God is disgusted by our frailty? That he doesn’t want to carry our burdens? That he doesn’t have the energy to deal with us?" Oh, what a reminder to be mindful of the attitudes being poured forth from my life...

On a different note, but still related to motherhood, I thought I'd share a few little tidbits from today. The first is that Julia laughed for the first time! Big ol' baby belly laughs! And it was Collin who brought it bubbling out of her...he was so proud, and she is clearly enamored with her big brother. :)

And earlier this morning, before school, the girls came upstairs dressed identically...right down to the way they had fixed their hair. When I said something about it, they both giggled and said, "Yeah, we're practically twins! Everyone keeps mixing up our names, so today we thought we'd make it extra hard! *giggle, giggle*" (It should be extra fun in November when they'll both be 8 at the same time for a few days!)

And finally, after lunch, Ian went to kiss Julia "goodnight" before heading to his room for a nap. She was awake and flashing big, gummy smiles, and Ian said, "Julia just told me to have a good nap. You just couldn't hear her because she speaks into my mind."

♥ my kiddos! I am a blessed momma. :)

Just Like a Disney Princess??

Probably all of you are familiar with the stereotypical Disney princess. She's beautiful; she can sing about any and all circumstances with the sweetest of all voices, and never has a bad attitude; all the cute little woodland animals flock to her to help with housework, to keep her company, or just to sit awestruck in her presence, looking cute.

I love animals. I love them so much, in fact, that I used to dream of becoming a country veterinarian and having all sorts of usually-wild pets. I used to bring home every stray dog I could coax into my arms, begging my mom to let me keep it. I would catch lizards and horny toads, keeping them in large tins or in my friend's old aquarium, and I was literally heartbroken when my brother and his friend decided to dissect on by pulling it in half. I had a funeral for it and carved a little inscribed tombstone for it in the tuff: "Here Lies Lizzy. R.I.P."

I'm not even joking.

Lately, I seem to be channeling my inner Disney princess, because all kinds of animals keep flocking to me: roaches, flies, mosquitoes, crickets...a rat...a bat...and...

I ran over a raccoon today on the way home from the store! A raccoon!! At 9:30 in the morning!!! Aren't those things supposed to be nocturnal? Why, yes. Yes, they are. This one, however, waddle-ran out from a hedge near the road and my 60-mile-per-hour zooming minivan just couldn't stop in time. And I think it actually jumped INTO the my front bumper.

Whatiswiththat?!?!?!

So, dear, sweet, cute little animals (and even more so, those that are not sweet or cute...or little)...STAY AWAY FROM ME!!

Then, and only then, can we all live happily ever after.

The End.

Sometimes You Gotta Laugh

Sometimes life is ridiculous.

I should warn you that this is a pretty random post. The last few days have held some bizarre experiences for me. These experiences left me frustrated, bewildered, battling sudden bouts of tachycardia, amused, annoyed,...and wet.

All of them, however, make me laugh. So...in no particular order, I will tell you about them:
1. My sewing endeavor(s)
Before beginning to explain this, you need to understand that I don't sew. I say "don't" instead of "can't" purely because I still have some hope of learning. Some people are uncoordinated with their hands and say that they're "all thumbs" when it comes to whatever task is presenting their struggle. When it comes to sewing, I'm all toes. And have you ever tried sewing with your toes?? I didn't think so. As you can probably imagine, it's not a pretty sight; and that's what I look like...even though my feet aren't actually doing the sewing. (...well, unless you count stepping on the sewing machine pedal, but that hardly requires skill.)

This tale has a happy ending, as I have now completed my project (which I'm actually NOT going to tell you about...yet...), but I think I have murdered a piece of my perfectionism along the way. In the long run, this is probably a good thing, but it was painful. Brutal, really. At one point today, I was trying to finish one little smidge before I was at a "good stopping place." Julia was crying because she was hungry, and all four of the other kids were huddled around me so closely I could barely breathe. The girls kept whispering about how cool sewing was and asking if I could teach them (again...picture toes...), and they kept fingering EVERYTHING, which was making me annoyed and anxious and weirdly distracted and stressed out. Collin was standing on his tip-toes, pointing at all the different parts of the sewing machine, and asking "Wha's dat? Wha's dat?"...over and over and over. And Ian, being the very helpful big brother that he is, very thoughtfully replied, "I think...I think it's some sort of a machine."

His powers of deduction are astounding.

I responded to this situation in a totally rational way: I simply stopped what I was doing momentarily, turned in my chair, and said in a very slow, low voice, "All of you, look at my eyeballs right now." (They did...and Collin opened his own eyes very wide.) "I am about to explode. You need to go to the basement. Now."

It must've been akin to that eerie stillness before a violent storm, because they all high-tailed it to the basement. And then I congratulated myself for not yelling at them. (Because...that was the only other course of action that came to mind before they "looked at my eyeballs.")

Hm. Moving on...
2. BAT(woman)
Last night, I was the victim of an attack so utterly bizarre that I'm almost regretting that I didn't rush outside with a camera to take a picture as proof. Of course, as I was recovering from a near heart attack, I'm sure you can understand why I decided to stay safely indoors instead.

A bat flew into my window!! Yes. A BAT!!! I don't know if it's sonar was wonky, if it had rabies, or if my house was just covered in tasty looking (or sounding) bugs...or maybe a combination of all three...but it ran into the window, and I think it died! It might've been a suicide bomber-bat, judging from it's kamikaze-like flight pattern...perhaps a sinister agent of some unknown enemy.

Yeah, I don't know. But it scared the beejeebees out of me, and it took some time for my heart rate to return to normal.

This morning, the bat was gone, so either it was just stunned and later flew away, or something else ate it. Regardless, I ended up not having to dispose of a bat corpse, and that's enough to start any day off right.

3. RAT(woman)
Lest you think that my troubles with tiny, unwanted household mammals were limited to "my" bat, I should reveal that just one day earlier, I spotted a RAT (or maybe just a very VERY large mouse) in my garage!!!

*Gag! Splutter!*

I keep extra paper/plastic products (and things like surplus dishwasher detergent) on shelving out there, and I'd gone out to grab another package of toilet paper (or something...I honestly don't remember). Anyway, I spotted movement near my feet (I think I might've even kicked it! ACK!!!) and by the time I realized it was an animal, it was already darting behind our deep freezer and out of sight. It was gray, and it was a rodent.

Since it's far from cold outside, I seriously doubt it was seeking warmth in the hell-ish recesses of my garage; and since it's not cooler in the garage than it is outside, I seriously doubt it was there seeking...um...coolness. (UNLESS it was actually trying to get into the house! I hadn't thought of that until this moment...and I think I will stop thinking about it right now so I don't have nightmares.)

My theory is that it came from the construction site next door and just got in by mistake. I left the overhead door open a crack after the sighting in the hopes it would run back out. I haven't seen it again, so maybe it worked...but I'm very careful to conduct a thorough scan of the garage before setting foot in it, and henceforth, I shall make a LOT of noise near the door connecting it to the house to discourage any intrusion. *shudder*

4. The best alarm clock EVER
This morning began like pretty much any other Sunday morning. I woke up around 6, got up, had coffee and read some, got ready for church and then sat to watch the eastern sky change colors. The distinguishing characteristic of this particular morning is the "alarm" that helped me wake up all the kids...

At 6:45, the Goddard tornado sirens went off! There were no storms, hardly even a breeze, but they siren-ed for a good...5 minutes? That might not sound like a long time, but it feels a lot longer when it jars such a peaceful, still morning.

I can't complain, though. The reaction from the kids was priceless! Just imagine... :)

5. Baby puke
Have I mentioned that Julia is amazing? I have?? Well, let me give you just one more reason to agree with me. :)

Sunday School starts at 9:30 at our church, and we usually don't make it back home until around 12:45 or 1:00. Baby girl wakes up and eats around 7:30, and she's only [almost] 10 weeks old, so I clearly can't expect her to got that whole time without eating. So, I usually discreetly (and by 'discreetly', I really mean 'obnoxiously and clumsily') exit the room around 10, and try to be ready for the worship service at 10:30. Usually it works.

So today, I made it to my kids and sat down before the service started. (WIN!) I was not near an aisle, but I figured it was okay since Baby J had eaten well and been awake all morning up to that point; the chances of fussiness were slim.

All was well until the sermon started. I glanced down because Julia was squirming a little, and then her eyes popped open with a very serious and focused expression.

And then she puked on me. A LOT!

Enough that it completely saturated her burp cloth, her dress, and...me. Oh, and it made a nice juicy, splurting sound, too, which is always nice when you're in a quiet room and not wanting to draw attention to yourself. (Only a couple people were distracted enough to turn to look at us.)

I wiped us both off as best as I could, and luckily I'd brought a spare rag. Fast forward about 15 minutes, and she did it again!! But this time, she smiled at me. :) Honestly, it is so hard to focus sometimes, but at least there are recordings online so I can fill in the gaps...and the kids are learning...

SOOO, Cornerstone peeps, I apologize for smelling like spit-up when we spoke today, and thank you for not making me feel awkward about being all wet.


Honestly, sometimes you just have to laugh at the way life can be... :)

Rebel

My littlest, though as close to perfect as a baby could get, is still a rebel. If I walk away from her for any longer than 30 minutes (like during her nap or at night), I come back to find this:

Initially, I would just go to check on her and find her this way, but it's now progressed to wear she'll spit out her pacifier very intentionally and plop that thumb right in there...no matter how many times I pull her thumb out and replace it with the paci.

Emily and Katelyn were also finger/thumb suckers, and we were fine with it (even encouraged it), but after pushing pacifiers with the boys and having a much easier time breaking the habit, I'd planned to go the same route. Perhaps girls in our family have a stronger genetic propensity for thumbs??

There are worse things.

Okay, Miss J. I'll consider letting you win this one, but don't get too used to this sort of thing...I'll always be more stubborn than you! ;)

Oh, and just for kicks, here are a couple more short little videos. (If they're longer than about 10-15 seconds, the files are too large to email to Scott...or anyone else for that matter...so I have a ton of these little snippets.) These, as you can probably tell since she's dressed the same in each of them, were all taken within about 2 minutes of one another...and I'm saying basically the same thing in all of them because...well...what else do you say to try to get a 2 month old's attention? :)

2 Month Check-Up

Julia is about 9 1/2 weeks old now, just past two months, but her check-up with the doctor was this morning. Since I know all of you have been twiddling your thumbs just waiting to hear all her latest stats, I decided this information was definitely blog-worthy. :)

She is (drum roll, please)
11 POUNDS!!! (50%)
22 INCHES (25%)

Short and chubby, but OH so cute! And she's grown. Clearly...over 3.5 pounds since her 2 week check! :)

Additionally, she's now sleeping between 11 1/2 and 12 hours through the night, going to bed between 7:30 and 8:00 at night, and waking between 7:15 and 7:30 in the morning. She is UNBELIEVABLE! She's still napping between 12:30 (ish) and 3 in the afternoon, which lines right up with the boys' naps and actually gives me a few hours to attempt painful impossible new endeavors...like sewing! (I won't go into how that's going right now...)

The point is this: Julia rocks!

Naturally, I snapped a few pictures on my phone while we were waiting for the doctor to come in. She was being too happy and animated not to; but in retrospect, it would have been better to document her wonderful demeanor with a video instead of these:

Oh well. You get the idea. :)

First Day of School!

Today was the first day of school in our town. We met the girls' teachers last week, (we really like them both) and we were able to take all their school supplies to class then. That simplified things this morning...much less stuff to keep track of.

Poor Katy was soooo nervous. Even though she can talk your ear off once she gets going, she has always been my timid little girl. She has the same teacher she had at the end of last year (after we moved here...that teacher looped up to teach 2nd grade this year, so we opted to stay with her), so I'd hoped her nerves would be a little calmer. Unfortunately, they still got the better of her this morning; she was so scared, she threw up!

Some of this was probably due to a small (but seemingly big) change in our plans. See, Emily has been begging to ride the bus ever since she started school in Texas, and we've always declined. There have been lots of reasons. Still, we decided to start introducing the bus this year. Katy wasn't so enthusiastic, so our compromise was that I would take them to school each morning, but they would ride home [most of the time] in the afternoons. Well, typically the first day is when rules are covered, and since the bus was new to both girls, I didn't want them to miss that part. So, just for this morning, I talked to them about riding on the WAY to school as well. I think that was just the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back for Katy, but after "losing it" once, she seemed okay.

We took our obligatory first-day-of-school-pictures, both "nice"

...and sillyI loaded Collin and Julia into the double stroller, and ran back inside to grab my cell phone so I could watch the time. Good thing I went to grab it because I had JUST missed a call from Scott!

Thankfully, he was able to call back a couple minutes later and talk with the girls, wishing them a happy first day and all. I know...he's an incredible daddy! :)

Katy expressed her concerns.......and Emily excitedly jabbered away.
When the phonecall was over, Katy sat quietly and picked at grass...
...while Emily bounced around, unable to contain her enthusiasm. At one point, she literally stopped, threw her arms up in the air, lifted her face toward the sky, and cried out with a huge grin on her face, "Why is this bus TAKING SO LONG?!" Haha! (I don't have any pictures worth posting of this...they're all blurry because she was moving so much!)

And then the bus came, and I talked to the [very, very nice] bus driver, and the girls got on. (Note: earlier, Katy had mentioned that she "just didn't want to talk to anyone." Emily, being the caring, overprotective sister that she is, said, "Don't worry, Kate! You can sit by the window, and I'll sit on the edge and make sure no one bothers you!")

Yes, I took a picture of them on the bus...because the bus driver said it was okay and because both girls assured me that they wouldn't be embarrassed. :)And apparently, they weren't! Look through the window above the word "Kansas." See Em waving at me? (She's just above the "s.") Both girls were waving until the bus was out of view.And then there was nothing left, but to head home with my little three. Ian, on the walk back to the house said that he missed the girls and wished that they never had to go to school. Sweet boy.

The boys and Julia and I had a great time, though. (Well, Julia mostly just slept, ate, squirted liquid out both ends...) One advantage to having just the younger kiddos is that my attention isn't so divided. I love being able to focus better on the kids individually and getting to do more organized, directional activities with them.

We played Sorry! to work on one-to-one correspondence (and because Ian loves board games), and we did some early literacy work using an alphabet puzzle. When we were done with our puzzle games, he chose his favorite letter and got to fill up a paper writing it...any color paper, and color(s) crayons or markers. He did great! Collin is still working on his colors, so we sorted my "counting bears" and told silly stories to go along with it.

After lunch and naps, the boys played with Julia, who was just hanging out in her swing. She seems to think Ian is quite the comedian!

And then, much to the boys' delight and relief (and mine, since they'd been asking every minute or so when the bus was coming back), it was time to pick up the girl at the bus stop. Admittedly, I was pretty giddy, too...I love the excitement of the first day of school, and I couldn't wait to hear all about it from my girlies!

As soon as I cold make out faces through the windows, I could tell it had been a good day. This is what I saw:Can you see them? They're in the seat just in front of (to the left of) the "U.S.D."

This shot makes it easier:When they hopped off the bus, they were ALL smiles, both yacking away at a million miles an hour.

"The bus was SO COOL! Can we ride all the time?!" (Katy)
"I didn't want to come home...except that I missed you, Mom...and I wanted supper." (Emily)

Those are just a couple of my favorite things they said. They both love their teachers, and they had a great time being back with their friends. They greeted other school staff and found out about everyone's summers. Emily found out that the get to do "real experiments" in science this year...totally up her alley. (They have a special science lab, separate from the classrooms, and a teacher who only teaches that subject. It's awesome...you should see it!) Katy discovered that she's the fastest girl in her class (running in P.E.) Emily has a class journal that's "almost like a diary, only my teacher gets to read what I think!" Katy remembered her coupon from her teacher at the end of last year, so she got to choose something from the treasure box.

And there was so much more. The boys were thrilled to have their big sisters home, and so was I! It truly was a great day, and we're all looking forward to tomorrow.

AWKWARD!!!

Today is the last day of summer break for my girls, so I made a goal to try to make it special and memorable.

Well, it'll definitely be remembered by me!

The weather has cooled off some in the last week or so (it's amazing how much cooler 99* feels than 101*), so we decided to go to the park...the "fun, spinney park." We got there and realized most of Wichita had the same wonderful idea, but the kids had a ball anyway. I had planned for us to have a nice picnic there, but the kids have been asking literally since Julia was born if we can go out to eat, so I made the snap decision to save myself the prep work and brave a restaurant alone with all five of them. It's really not that difficult to swing...unless someone has to go to the bathroom or, in Miss J's case, needs a diaper change. Then, I mean, do we ALL traipse off to the bathroom together and leave the wait-staff wondering if we just ditched our meal? Do I leave some subset of kids behind at the table, or do I let a couple go to the bathroom together without me?? I'm never sure...so we typically just avoid the whole situation.

The park was awesome.Julia just hung out in the stroller and slept, and all the other kids ran, slid, swung, splashed, and got adequately sandy. They all pretty much stayed together (though I do allow the older ones to play in other areas as long as they tell me where they're going to be), and everyone seemed satisfied when it was time to go. :)

I hadn't told them beforehand about the change in plans about lunch, so they were super excited when I broke the news and let THEM pick where we were going. IHOP was the general consensus.

We arrived, got seated in a relatively quiet area, and all the kids were behaving beautifully. We ordered, and I had to feed Julia. One of the older kids had to go to the bathroom, but thankfully, our table was near the bathrooms, so it wasn't such a problem after all. Then Julia *ahem* required a bathroom trip herself. So, I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and threatened the 3 older kids that they'd better be ANGELS while I was in the bathroom or I'd consider grounding them until Daddy came home. Collin came with me, and the whole event was...uneventful. Several of the waitresses came by the table (not all at the same time) to ask if all the kids were mine and to let me know how beautiful/handsome/cute they all are. The kids smiled sweetly, talked softly, and ate politely. They were fantastic.

There was another large party seated near us, and they stopped by our table as they were leaving.

And this is where the story gets interesting.

It was a mom, a dad, 2 little kids, and (looked like) both sets of grandparents. We also happened to have 2, yes two, waitresses at our table, just chatting with the kids and asking fun questions about whether they were all mine and if I was going to have more. They noted that the big girls have blue-green eyes, and both the boys have brown eyes. The girls said "we have eyes like our dad," and one of the waitresses noted that the boys must have eyes more like mine...and then Ian piped up and said, "Julia has blue eyes, but she doesn't know her daddy." Then Emily, unintentionally making this statement even more wonderful, said "Yeah. She hasn't met him yet."

It took me a second to figure out why everyone was exchanging awkward side-glances and giving me sympathetic nods. Finally, I stammered "Oh, their dad is deployed right now," but hasty goodbyes were already being said and the crowd was scattering. I wanted to jump up and grab them all and plead with them that it wasn't what they thought, but I restrained myself and decided to just enjoy the rest of my lemonade instead. *sigh*

Why Ian said "HER daddy" and not "OUR daddy," I'll never know. And it's not like he really did anything wrong, but...yeesh.

2 Months Old!

My baby girl is two months old today! As is always the case, these baby days are flying past. I'm loving every moment, and unlike some times in the past, I don't really wonder if I'm making the most of this. I'm seizing every opportunity I can for those baby snuggles, not rushing through the times I can sit and gaze into her sleepy baby eyes, soaking in her sweet baby smell (which really is generally sweet...and when it's not, it's able to be quickly fixed), and relishing her tiny baby squeaks, sighs, and coos. I'm able to take the time to just feel her soft little head nestled on my shoulder, against my neck and cheek, and there are few things easier to relax to than the deep and sometimes active breathing of a dreaming babe.

And while these past two months have flown, I find that I can be grateful for the quick passage of time because it has offset the dragging weeks as we all anticipate Scott's homecoming...that bit of sweetness really helps me not be so sad to see her "floppy baby" ways already fading.

I wonder if there ever was such an easy baby as Miss Julia? She seems to just go with the flow so seemlessly. At the risk of "jinxing" the whole deal, I've gotta share: she eats well, sleeps amazingly well (consistently at LEAST 9 1/2 hours each night now, and a regular 12:30-3:00 afternoon nap!), lifts her head and looks all around, smiles at everyone, and very rarely cries...unless she's hungry. She seems so interested in the world around her already, but she's especially intrigued by the mobile over her crib.

Yes, she is amazing. :)

She is definitely growing...her head is filling out her ridiculous-but-oh-so-cute headbands so much better than just a week or two ago, and after seeing her little toothpick, scrawny self at the beginning, even I can hardly believe her ever-growing chunka-chunka thighs! Haha!

Happy 2 months, Julia! We love you so much!!

There's No Place Like Home

*Click, click, click!*

Yup, I'm still in Kansas, but check out this rainbow!And there were plenty of awesome clouds, too:


And yes, I always say this, but it's always true: it was WAY better than the pictures show. :)

Survival Vs. Contentment

I've been trying to figure out how I want to write this post for some time now...weeks...at least. I've trashed several beginnings because they just don't convey what I mean; I've wanted everyone to know we are doing well, that we are happy, that we have joy and peace with our circumstances...and yet I did not want to diminish the hurdles our family has faced and overcome.

Eventually, however, I had to examine why I even cared if our trial appeared minimal to anyone else...and ultimately it boiled down to the preservation of my pride. And THAT realization made up my mind for good...I'm posting this, whether it makes sense or not, even if it's rambly, and regardless of anyone else's potential impressions. :)

See, it's totally obvious to me that any successes and any joys have been 100%, completely the Lord's work. If it had all rested on my shoulders, I would've had a nervous breakdown about...uh...four months ago...likely even sooner than that. However, I've been given the remarkable gift of going through something I never believed I could weather (and truly couldn't, apart from His grace), even enjoying large portions of the road, and not only making it through, but coming out the other side feeling blessed rather than robbed.

I'm sure I've written before, or at least alluded to one of my major sin areas: fear. I know God loves me and will always only do/allow what is best for me; the problem is that I have this awful tendency of believing "what's best for me" is synonymous with the hardest possible path. I cringe even admitting this, but I really DO struggle to trust the Lord and rest peacefully in the knowledge that He is in control. It's a completely illogical fear, as I've had it proven to my face time and time again that His way really IS best, but it persists none-the-less. (And though sometimes best=hardest, that's NOT always the case.)

So, as we approached this deployment, and I knew specific things we were being asked to walk through (like having a baby without my husband here), I reallyreallyreallyreally struggled to accept it all gratefully. I don't think I was bitter...at least, that wasn't any consistent attitude in my heart...but I perceived this summer as something that just was. I couldn't change it, no matter how much I wished to, so I was just going to have to make the best of it and try to get through.

Did you catch that? "I was going to have to make the best of it."

In reality, "it" was already the best, and it had nothing to do with anything I was making. If I wanted to, I could still allow myself to get hung up on the what-ifs and if-onlys, all the things I wanted and hoped for that didn't come to pass...but if I'm really honest, I can see how the way things happened is actually a great gift!

I was allowed to see God provide, orchestrate, organize, comfort, and perform wonders first-hand...in my own life and in my family...in ways I'd previously only heard or read about. I was allowed to be the recipient of His grace and peace. I was chosen to stand awestruck with mercies raining down that I would never have thought to ask for, but that I came to realize had been desires within my heart all along.

I was given a vantage point from which I could see plainly that the path I was moving along was steep and dark and difficult; and I was also given eyes to see, while I was moving along this path, that my feet were not the ones carrying me. I don't exactly know how to word what's stirring in my heart here: God gave me perspective so that I would know unmistakably that it was not by my own power that I was moving forward at all...and yet I was still experiencing the road. An example: before Scott ever left, I could see this ominous, shrouded point in the road with a neon sign flashing "You Will Have a Baby Without Him Here!" I knew that welcoming Julia would be unlike the welcomes of any of our other children, and the intensity that comes with childbirth was unimaginable, knowing the one person I wanted and needed most would be 8,000 miles away. But that time grew steadily nearer, and things "just fell into place." God sent a sweet friend to be with me during the labor and delivery; I even feared that because, well, no one should have to see that much of me. :) God made a way for my parents to come around the time Julia was due, and He placed me with a doctor who was kind, considerate of our situation, and who really listened to me. When that day finally came, it went more smoothly than I could have possibly imagined or dared to hope. The issues I feared just...weren't issues. I'm a planner by nature, but there are some things no one can plan...and I had no choice but to just wait and pray and trust that, if He was calling me through this, He would make a way. And He did so much more than that; it didn't just go okay, it went well! (You can read more about it here and here, if you missed it back in June.)

All that to say, God knows what He's doing...and I've known that, but I've seen and felt and now know it in a way I didn't realize I needed. For me, that day just...happened...boom, boom, boom. But there's no way that anything that perfect "just happens" or that people like that are "just there."

And Julia--she is such a little angel. I tried to plan and prepare all these things for how I'd handle the kids and the house and the errands on little-to-no sleep and without any breaks from incessant crying all day every day. I agonized over what would become of the other kids, knowing what a monster Sleep-Deprived-Shannon really can be! God, though, in His goodness, grace, mercy, providence, and stunning sense of humor, gave me a sweet, mellow, pleasant, easy baby...and obliterated any need to have agonized and worried and stressed. Rather than allow me to overcome difficulty through my own planning, He made things happen on a completely different plane. No, there's absolutely no way that *I* made the best of any of this...He just gave me the best to begin with!

Now, of course it's been hard, and even as rich and amazing as it's been, I can't say I'd choose this again if given the chance, but I can see purpose in it. It's not one of those "one day, many years from now, I'll see a reason for this;" it's something I see now!

And so, what started out as me, in my own strength, purposing to "survive and thrive" has turned into an incredible, full, and rich summer. It's held joy, and I'm actually content!

It has nothing to do with my bravery or stamina, and everything to do with being carried. Even moreso, He's allowed me to see the contrast in my attitudes play out...the times I trust and rest versus the time I buck His plan and try to force my own.

So, while I long with my whole heart for Scott's safe return home, and while I continue to intermittently battle with my backward-looking, own-plan-seeking, wistful, whiny thoughts...I'm so grateful that the Lord saw fit to stretch me at this time and even in this way, for the new perspective He's given me through it all, and for the resilience that's been born in my heart that has no root in my strength whatsoever. What an amazing blessing!

God does not give chintzy gifts!

"Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." ~James 1:2-4 (NASB)

Storm Pictures

In each place I've lived, one of the first things (if not THE first) that appeals to me is the sky. I love gazing at the stars; I have adored watching sunrises since I was in high school, and the setting sun, if I can watch it, never ceases to captivate me. Every place possesses its own unique beauty. Clouds in Kansas look totally different from those of West Texas, which in turn look totally different than those of New Mexico's mountain skies; and the storms produced in each place are varied just as vastly. You can't compare them to one another on a scale. They're each amazing, beautiful, awe-inspiring, and unique in their own ways.

We had a series of thunderstorms roll through last night. While I tend to love storms normally, I could tell that our recent scarcity of rain heightened my enthusiasm. I watched the lightning for a while from my bedroom window, but after a while, I had to go outside and see it "in person." (Not dangerously so.) There is nothing like the smell of a storm...not the rain smell (though that's also glorious), but the freshness...and then the feel of the cool breeze, which is different than any other breeze apart from a storm.

By the time I went out, it was pitch black. We live at the edge of our subdivision, and there's only one street light nearby, which is blocked from view completely on our back deck. Thus, all the illumination in the pictures below is from the lightning itself...and a slow shutter speed. (Well, and then there are the red lights on the cell/radio towers...)

Most of the lightning with this particular storm was hidden within the clouds, meaning I couldn't see may spidery bolts, but it was back-lighting the clouds so I could really see the shape of the storm. :)