When you finally get around to hanging curtains...

We've lived in our current home for almost 4 years.  We never intended to live here that long, but it's just the way things worked out.  We've made it "home" as much as we could during that time, but since it's a rental we never did a whole lot.  We hung pictures and curtains on most of the windows and that's about it.  But one thing we never did was put up curtains in our dining room.  We have a long bank of three windows and I didn't have any curtains that fit.  And whenever I would mention buying curtains for those windows, Chris would grumble and say something about not wanting to spend money on a rental.  Which made sense, I guess.  So I never bought curtains.  And for three years those windows were naked.

And then we started house hunting.  Two years ago.  We had put in offers on FIVE houses and obviously came up short on each one.  The chances of us actually buying a house were looking pretty slim.  So in one sense I kept hesitating putting up curtains because, you know, we could move any time.  But with each house we didn't get, the more anxious I was to make the house we DID have more of a home.  I wanted curtains!!

Well a few months ago I was talking with a student of mine who was interested in bartering for part of her class cost.  When I found out she was a seamstress, I asked if she would sew us some curtains for our poor naked windows, and she happily agreed.  I received those curtains about a month ago and right away I bought a curtain rod and made Chris hang them up.  He still wasn't excited about hanging curtains in a rental house but he saw how happy it made me and he installed the curtain rods with a smile.

He then said jokingly "You know, now that we've hung curtains, we're going to buy a house and move, right?"

"Well, if that's all it takes!" I laughed.

We continued to house hunt, but I was mentally preparing myself to spend yet another summer in our current house, making the best of our little piece of yard on our small corner lot.  It's a good house.  We've enjoyed four summers here and we can enjoy one more.

But one Friday morning a few weeks ago we went to yet another house showing.  It was a foreclosure on the west side of town (neither of which were very appealing) but it looked big in the pictures and it was definitely in our price range.  So I bribed the kids into the van and bundled ourselves up to look at a house with no heat in March.

It was a 1978 retro looking house on a huge corner lot in a really nice neighborhood.  There actually was a back yard (not something you often see with a corner lot) and it was fenced in.  That's a good start.  Then we walked inside.  The house was dirty, the cabinets were old, and there was this funky retro rock wall in the basement.  And. we. LOVED. it!!

It really wasn't much to look at, but the more we walked around, the more we saw all the possibilities in this home.  And the more we realized that all the "work" that needed to be done was cosmetic and really not that hard to do, the more attractive the house became.  Paint and a good cleaning would go a loooong way with this house.  Plus, it's HUGE!  The house has over 2400 sq. feet, 5 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms!  Holy giant house, batman!!  It's far bigger than any other house we even looked at, let alone put an offer in on.  Our only concern was that since it was a foreclosure, you don't get a property disclosure statement.  So you never really know what you're getting into.

But we thought about it and prayed about it.  Chris went back a second time with his boss from work and their site manager to look at all the little details.  I mean, who better to "inspect" a house than the president of a construction company and his right hand man.  They climbed on the roof, looked in the attic, checked out the foundation and they both said it looked awesome.

We decided to go for it.  Let's put in an offer.  We both felt really good about the house and really loved all the space in it.  We did our best to not get our hopes up considering our lousy track record with buying houses.  But maybe, just maybe, this was "the one".

So we put in our best offer and waited.  It was a Sunday and we didn't expect to hear about the house until at least Tuesday.  We did our best to put it out of our minds and to be honest, I was already planning my pity party.  How am I going to grieve the loss of this house?  With five other offers and no houses, this was surely going to be #6 in the pile of houses we didn't get.

Well, Monday around noon Chris comes home for lunch - like he does every day.  But this day?  This day he comes in with a box of 'Oh My Cupcakes' and a stupid grin on his face.  Then he says "I have good news."

Shut up!  You're kidding, right?  RIGHT?!?  He was most definitely NOT kidding.  We got the house.  Shock.  Disbelief.  We put in offers on houses.  We don't actually buy houses.  But this one we bought.  This was OUR house.  The boys came running into the kitchen (apparently the sight of their mother squealing and throwing her arms around their Daddy's neck is cause for concern)  We told them the good news and they joined in the celebration because, they too, had been dragged to dozens and dozens of houses all over Sioux Falls in hopes that each would be "the one".  We cheered.  We jumped and danced (for real, we jumped around the kitchen like a bunch of fools).  We hugged and laughed.  And we thanked God.  Thanked Him for his provision and wisdom through the whole process.  And thanked Him for the house that we've been waiting for for so long.

We're so excited to move!  Exited to have a big back yard where the boys can run.  Excited to be in a different neighborhood.  Excited to finally have a place to call our own.

Now, I just need to find a place to hang those curtains ....

Praying for a House

The Anderson's are house hunting.  Sort of.  I mean, we're looking.  But not with a lot of hope of actually finding something.  Because we've been house hunting for nearly two years.  Two. years.  And even if we DO find something, my optimism is waning that we'll actually be able to buy it.  Because we've put in offers on four houses in the last two years, obviously coming up short each time :(

We moved into our current house a little over three years ago when I was pregnant with Carter.  We knew it wasn't our forever home (since it was a rental), but it's what we could afford and it was better than sharing walls with our increasingly noisy neighbors in an apartment building.  And it's a good house.  Ugly.  But good.

But as good as it is and as many great memories as we've had here, our house is just becoming too small for our family.  I mean, for the size it is, the space is laid out well.  The kitchen is a good size, the dining room is big & open to the living room and I love that there's an attached double stall garage (a rarity in our neighborhood).  But our 2 bedroom, 1100 sq foot house is just, well, it's just small.  The boys are sharing a room and Bennett is sleeping in our room.  Not a horrible arrangement, but not ideal either.  And someday Chris and I will decide we'd like our room back and move Bennett out.  The reason we haven't yet is that the logistics of having three boys in one room is kind of overwhelming to me.

And not only is our house small,  but the yard is small too.  Our house is on a corner lot and all we have is a small patch of yard on the front and side of our house.  We've spent hours playing in that patch of yard over the last three years, but my heart just aches for a big, fenced in yard where my boys can run!  Oh, how they need to run.  And let's be honest, I would love a yard where I can send them out to play in the frigid cold and I can watch them from the warmth of my kitchen :)

We would love a house with at least 4 bedrooms and 2 baths and a double attached garage.  We would love a big kitchen and dining room to host friends & family and a separate family room so I can get all the kids crap toys out of our only common living space.  We would love to be in a better neighborhood where we don't suspect anyone of selling illegal substances across the street and preferably not on a corner lot.  We would love a ranch style home with a big back yard.  And we would love to find a house that meets all of our needs and fits within our single income family budget.

We already have so much to be thankful for - an amazing marriage, three healthy kiddos, a roof over our heads, and food in the fridge - that I feel even a bit selfish wanting a new house.  We truly are rich and we have more than we need.  But I know that God cares about the big things and the small things in our life.  So we're praying. We're praying that God provides a house for us.

And every time I bring this need to God I feel like He's telling me to go outside of myself for this.  To ask for prayer and for help.  And so, would you pray with us?  Would you pray that God would provide just the right house in just the right neighborhood for just the right price?  And I know God's timing is perfect, but I'm really praying for a house soon!

a quick prayer answered quickly

Have you ever said a quick prayer, but not really expected it to be answered?  You pray because that's what you do.  Or perhaps because you don't know what else to do?  That happened last night.

Let me back up.

Our two big kids go to bed every night around 8pm.  Bennett goes to bed around .... well, whenever we can get him to sleep.  He's always been a night owl.  Always.  I can count on one hand the number of times he's gone to bed for the night before 9pm.  And most of the time that's ok.  Because he's such a laid back baby and because a certain toddler of mine requires a LOT of my attention, I don't get to spend as much time with Benny as I would like.  So after 8pm is our time.  He get to play on the bed with Daddy.  Have extra snuggles with Mommy.  I think he's figured this out, and that's why he stays up so late.  And most of the time I don't mind.

But sometimes I'm just tired.  Weary.  And Chris and I have almost no time for just the two of us.  No time to have a conversation without being interrupted or without having a fussy, overtired baby in our arms.  And when Bennett finally falls asleep around 10:30pm, we're usually right behind him going to bed.

So last night I come home from work around 10pm (late night for me!) and Bennett is just waking up from a nap.  Lovely.  I try to nurse him back to sleep.  No go.  He seems content so I lay him down in his bed hoping he'll fall back asleep on his own (that does happen sometimes) and go downstairs.  Of course, because I'm desperate to see my husband and have an actual conversation with him, Bennett starts fussing.  Then crying.  (sigh)  It's going to be another long night.  (the night before he was awake until 11:30pm)

After a few minutes of crying, I finally muster the energy to trudge back upstairs and start the fight to get him to sleep.  Just as I'm heading up the stairs, I say to Chris "say a prayer that he'll go to sleep", but I didn't really expect anything from it.  But he prays.  He offers a up a quick "Jesus, help Benny to sleep" and off I go.  I make it up the last 8 steps and just as I'm about to open our bedroom door it's quiet.

I pause.  Still quiet.  Did he really just fall asleep?  Just now??

I wait some more.  Sweet silence coming from the room.  After another minute of listening, I tip toe back down the stairs, kind of stunned.  I can't believe he actually fell asleep.

I do believe that is one of the quickest answers to prayer I've ever received.  Thank you Jesus!  And it seems so trivial, but Chris and I were able to sit on the couch, snuggled together, talking about our day, just the two of us.  And Lord knows we needed that!

The age of wisdom ... err, something like that

When I was a freshman in high school I remember a conversation I had with my youth pastor.  He said "I can't wait until I'm 30."  By which I was really confused.  1) Because 30 seemed like 100 years away and really old and 2) who wants to get older??  So naturally I asked why?  

And he said something like "As you get older, you become wiser.  Just think how wise I will be when I'm 30!"

And that stuck with me.  (I'm sure he has no recollection of this conversation, but it clearly had an impact on me.)  So here I am.  Today.  On my 30th birthday.  And I, too, approached this day with anticipation.  I can say with fair certainly that I am indeed wiser, more mature, more seasoned than I was 10 years ago.  And certainly more so than when I had that conversation at the age of 14.  I've learned a lot of things, some of which the hard way, over the last three decades.  And for that, I'm thankful for 30.  Thankful for all the life experiences I've had.  It feels good to have a few more "grown-up years" under my belt.

Now I can only image how wise I'll be at 40.  But that's, like, 100 years away.  I don't need to think about that now.

Thursday

A few random notes from this very average Thursday ....

...this morning my boys played "nap time".  I've decided I like that game very much.

...then they played "hide and seek" where they both hid, waiting for the other to find them.  I like that game too.

...Brooks begged to mop the dining room floor.  How could I say no?  It's amazing what gets cleaned when two little boys armed with vinegar spray are let loose in your house.

...I'm very thankful we live in a rental house.  Then I don't feel so bad when the above mentioned boys leave puddles of vinegar spray on the crappy hardwood floors.

... it's not a good idea to put your face near an angry toddler.  Being head butted by a 2 year old really really hurts.

... I love coffee.  Especially on rainy days when you have a headache from being headbutted.

...It's 1:30 pm.  I need to shower.  Badly.  For real, I stink.

...I baked a batch of cookies after lunch and neither of the boys noticed.  Is that a boy thing?  Or a distracted kid thing?

... the boys want to go outside and dig in the freshly rained on dirt.  I know I should let them.  But I'm dreading cleaning up muddy boys in my house I just cleaned 2 hours ago.

... I'm going out to see a movie with some friends tonight.  I really need a night off and I'm excited to go, but am also feeling guilty for leaving.  Is that normal?

Both ends

We are now a family of five, two grown-ups and three children.  Three boys to be exact.  And I often hear the "Wow, three boys.  You must be busy" comment often.  And it's true.  We are busy.  But I don't think having three boys makes us busy.  I'm pretty sure just having three children makes you busy.

My day looks something like this...

7:00am - the big boys roll out of bed.  One of them is usually crying for any various number of reasons.  Chris takes them down stairs for breakfast and I roll over to either get a few more minutes of sleep (if I'm lucky) or nurse the baby (more likely)

7:30 - my feet hit the floor.  I leave the baby asleep in our bed and trudge downstairs to assess the day.

7:45am - Chris leaves for work.  One of the boys cries because he didn't get to say "good-bye" enough times or in the right way (we have routines, ya know)

8:00am - I make coffee.  Lots of coffee.  I find a mutually agreed upon and engaging activity for my boys to do (aka watch TV) while I take a shower.  I live for those 10 minutes of hot water.  It's better than coffee I think.  I find a clean pair of yoga pants to wear, dry my hair (again, if I'm lucky), and begin the "getting dressed" routine which involves telling Brooks 42 times to put on clothes and physically wrestling clothes onto the toddler.

And I wish I could break down the rest of my day, but it's all a blur from here on out.  Between now and 5:15pm I...

scarf down some breakfast, clean up dishes, sweep the floor (maybe), break up a fight, help Carter go potty, nurse the baby, change a diaper, figure out why Carter is screaming, play some cars, start a load of laundry, vacuum the floor, tell Brooks to stop taking Carter's toys, fix a snack, rock the baby to sleep, play a game, make lunch, eat lunch while nursing the baby, clean up lunch, wipe table, wash dishes, hide in bathroom to go "potty", change a diaper, rock baby to sleep, tell Carter to stop screaming, help Carter go potty, wipe Brooks' butt, read books, tuck Carter in for a nap, again, and again, and again, give up on Carter taking a nap, put on a movie for the kids, regain a bit of sanity by checking Facebook, check e-mails, build a tower, fold laundry, prepare a snack, clean up snack, nurse the baby, read more books, play with baby, figure out why Carter is screaming, put Brooks in time-out, console crying 4 year old in time-out, trip over toys, make plans to bring said toys to Goodwill, start cooking supper while wearing Bennett, take away toy the boys are fighting over .....

... and then the clouds part and angels sing.  Daddy's home!  Back-up has arrived.  He occupies the big ones while I finish cooking supper.  After we eat, he plays with the kids while I clear the table, do the dishes, sweep the floor, wipe down the table.  Sometimes I join them in playing, but usually I take this time to catch up on other house projects.  And then it's bedtime.  I love my children.  With all my heart.  But oh, how I love bedtime.  Daddy usually does the bedtime routine - brush teeth, go potty, put on jammies and I join them for prayers and hugs.  And finally, Brooks and Carter are asleep.  The day is done.

Except that it's not.  Bennett is still awake.  And will be for quite some time.  We've discovered that's he's quite the night owl.  And despite our best efforts to nurse, rock, shush, and console him, he will.not. go to bed before 10pm. (it used to be midnight, so I guess I shouldn't complain)  So what used to be our "alone time" without the kids before we went to bed, has turned into a threesome.  And when one of us finally gets Bennett to stay asleep, we collapse into bed around 11pm.

And because Bennett is only 2 months old, I'm up in the night nursing him.  Often.  And that's ok.  I really do enjoy nursing my babies.  But after going all day and up all night I feel like this mama is burning the candle at both ends.  There's rarely a moment when I'm without my children, day or night.  And I'm tired.  Happy, but tired.

I will say, however, that I'm SO thankful for Chris and how much he's stepped up with this baby.  He volunteers to rock him so I can have a break.  He'll take the big kids out so I can nap while Bennett naps.  He really is amazing and the only reason I'm still surviving parenthood.

So yes, we're busy.  And it's good.  We love our boys.  We love our life.  But I would by lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to when we can at least sleep through the night again.

Humbled. Blessed. Grateful.

We're a pretty scheduled bunch around here.  Chris and I are both firstborns.  Brooks is obviously a first born.  And Carter?  Well, Carter is just trying to survive among us.  One such regularly scheduled event is grocery shopping.  Every Monday morning we head to Hy-Vee to do our weekly grocery shopping.  Every Monday.  Like clockwork.  In fact, this is so ingrained into my four year old that one day he randomly said, "You know what would be funny??  If we went to Hy-Vee on a Tuesday!"

Yes, my son, that would be funny.

Well, such a funny thing happened this week.  With yesterday's high temp a balmy -15 with wind chills close to -50 (that's 50 degrees BELOW zero), we clearly didn't make it to the grocery store.  We didn't even leave our house.  So tonight, as our fridge was running a bit bare, we all headed to the grocery store as a family.  I know I could have gone by myself (and boy that would have been nice), but with being 39+ weeks pregnant, I gladly accepted my husband's help in loading and unloading groceries.

Knowing that baby could arrive literally any day now, I planned my menu to include meals I could double and freeze.  Plus stock up on other essentials in case I don't make it to the store next week Monday (I'm really hoping I won't make it to the store next week).  Well, with all that extra food needed for the extra meals, our grocery budget for this week was going to go over.  Waaaaay over.  I cut things out, rearranged meals and tried to make it work, but there was no way around spending the extra money.  But, I figured, after baby came we would be eating off these reserves and wouldn't be spending as much in the weeks to come.  "It will all work out" I told myself.

So we shopped.  The boys did great (despite our radical change in routine) and we headed to the check-out.  And then it happened.  That moment when God whispers (or perhaps shouts) to you that He cares.

Chris is unloading all the groceries, I'm trying to get the boys bundled back up in hats and mittens before heading outside and this lady - a complete stranger - walks up to me and asks, "Can I do something for you?"

Um, sure.

She then proceeds to open an envelope and pull out a card from inside.  She explains to me that her employer gave her an opportunity to bless someone and to "pay it forward".  She'd had this card since Christmas, but forgot about it in her purse until tonight.  Then she hands me a $50 prepaid Visa gift card and said she wanted to help pay for our groceries.

I seriously had no idea what to say to her. I was so humbled.  Blessed.  Grateful.  So in as many words as I could muster I told her "thank you" and hugged her.  (I rarely hug my friends, let alone strangers, but I didn't know how else to respond.)  I don't think she really knew the enormity of that random act of kindness.  There's no way she could have known our situation - how "over budget" our shopping trip was.

But the amazing thing is that God did!  He knew.  He knew we would be at the store on Tuesday evening instead of Monday morning.  He knew that she would "forget" about that gift card until tonight.  And He knew not only how much we needed the grocery money, but also how much I needed that reminder that He will always know our needs and provide for every single one of them.

My ugly kitchen

My family and I live in a 100ish year old house that we're renting.  It's big and for the most part offers the space that we need.  But because it's old and because it's a rental and because I always dream of someday owning our own home, I grumble.

I grumble about living on a corner lot where we don't really have a yard.  And what we do have is all weeds.  I grumble about the hardwood floors.  Because although I'm sure they were very nice at one point in their lifetime, they are now scratched, and dented and pretty darn ugly.  And I grumble because all the windows in our homes, even the ones that don't even open, are rotting and very very drafty.

And then there's my kitchen.  Oh, the kitchen.  The room of the house with mustard yellow counter tops, pressed board cabinets with unidentifiable (and non-removable) gunk on the outside and a 1960's style linoleum floor that's curling at the edges and has cigarette burns throughout.  Yes, cigarette burns.  Oh, and don't forget the blue plaid wall paper mixed with some awful country style border at the top.  It is quite possibly the ugliest kitchen I have ever seen.  I try to be thankful, but seriously, you should see it.  Ugly ugly ugly.

Grumble grumble grumble.

_______________________________________

Yesterday our 9 year old neighbor girl, Z, came over for an hour after school before her dad arrived home from work.  And while she was here a friend of hers stopped by and invited herself in (don't ask).  Anyway, I've never met this girl, obviously a classmate, but as she approached Z, she asked

"Are these your neighbors?  Wow.  They have a really nice house!"

(big sigh)

There are too many times that I find myself so caught up in my own grumblings and the "I wish I had's" that I forget how totally and truly blessed we are.  For as many times as I look at other people's houses and think "wow, they have a really nice house", someone can say that about MY house.

We are blessed.  And our home really is nice.  We have four walls that we don't have to share with our neighbors.  We have two bathrooms. (something I've NEVER had before in my life)  We have mostly matching furniture and a beautiful kitchen table that we all fit around during meal times.  We have curtains in our windows, which appears to be a luxury in our neighborhood.  We have beds to sleep on, toys on the shelves (probably too many) and a whole closet full of clothes.  Clean clothes, I might add, because we also have a washer and dryer in our house.

And my kitchen?  In my kitchen we have real plates that match, and a drawer full of silverware and wonderful stainless steel cookware with which I can prepare healthy meals for my family.  But most of all we have a fridge and a pantry and cabinets full of food.  And not just any food.  Good food.  Real food.  Lots of fruits and veggies and whole grains food.

So thank you Jesus for my ugly kitchen.  And forgive me for wanting what isn't mine.  We are blessed.  And we are rich.  We have more than we need.  

September

I'm not entirely sure where the month of September went.  I know it started with a birthday, and now here we are, 20 some days later with October just around the corner.  This little life of ours better slow down or my kids will be all "hey I'm leaving for college now" and I'm still "do you want to wear dinosaur or puppy jammies tonight??"

Anyway, we've done stuff.  Fun stuff.  Fall is coming.  I love the cooler air.  Although I feel like the weather is a bit drunk right now.  Seriously.   It's 85* one day and 60* the next.  One load of laundry will contain both shorts & sweaters.  But it's what happens in the Midwest.  It's a blending of seasons if you will.

Anyway, here's some highlights of the month.

Touch a Truck

Every year the Sioux Falls Parks n' Rec department hosts "Touch a Truck".  Bascially it's a parking lot full of every kind of different truck and vehicle you can imagine.  Kids are allowed to climb, touch, honk the horn and dream that someday they, too, can drive a garbage truck.  (I'm gonna go ahead and assume - and hope - they'll grow out of that dream.  If not, it'll save a ton on college bills!)

Anyway, for my two year old little motor head, this was a dream come true.  Seriously.  He squealed with sheer happiness and his jaw nearly hit the ground when he walked into the parking lot.  Brooks hated it.  It was loud.  And he could care less about trucks.  But Carter literally dragged me from truck to truck, demanding I help him into the cab so he could "drive a cuck".

I couldn't even tell you what truck this was in.  To me, they all looked the same.  But he needed to sit in every.single.one. 

Preschool Started

For Brooks this year, we're doing preschool at home.  I didn't feel like I needed to pay someone hundreds of dollars to teach my child the ABC's.  That, and I really like teaching him.  He's a fun kid to learn with.  And this year, he's a part of a preschool homeschool group called "Backpack Buddies".  Cute, huh?  It actually started mid-way through last year, but we've revamped it some, added some structure and even have field trips scheduled.  There's five of us moms, 5 preschoolers and a whole bunch more "littles" added in.  We really look forward to our Tuesday morning group time!  We have a structured lesson for an hour and then play time for an hour (aka, the moms get to have actual adult interaction time.  yay.)

The first day of "school".  Carter received a new backpack for his birthday and he certainly wasn't going to be left out of the schooly fun.

And because one of the moms is a rockin' photographer, she did school pics for all the kids.

 Handsome little fellas, aren't they??

The Apple Orchard

Our latest preschool field trip was to the apple orchard.  It was a chilly morning, but that made it even more perfect for apple picking.  Our group participated in story time, sampled apples and juice, took a wagon ride  out to the orchard, picked a few apples, and then visited the animals and played in the hay.  Super fun morning!

most of the crew!

I miss Mama

Mom.  That's my name.  Sounds obvious, right?  Except it's not always been my name.  From the time Brooks was born I've been Mama.  I like Mama.  I've embraced Mama.  It sounds loving and sweet, yet can grow with a child.  Or so I thought.

A few weekends ago, Chris and I got away.  Not too far away.  Just to a Bed &Breakfast in Lennox.  But it was the first time ever (yes, ever) we left our kids overnight.  We had a great time and I don't think they even noticed we were gone.  But something changed in that 24 hours we were away.  During that time my four year old grew up.  And I became "Mom".  Not Mama.

I thought it would just be a phase.  Carter still calls me Mama.  Chris still refers to me as Mama.  But no.  I'm Mom.  And it seems the more I try to encourage Brooks to call me Mama, the more he calls me Mom.  Perhaps he feels more grown up saying it.  Or perhaps he likes pushing my buttons.  Because when he's not thinking about it, a "mama" will slip out.  And he seems to weave it into every sentence he speaks to me.  "Hey mom.  Mom, what can I do now, mom?  Let's do a puzzle mom.  I have to go potty mom.  Mom, what are you doing mom?"

But perhaps it's just a sign that he's growing up.  That happens I hear. (sigh)  But I miss Mama.  I miss hearing it.  I miss my little boy's first word.  And now when Brooks says it, Carter will repeat it.  It won't be long until Mama is phased out all together.  But at least I'm not alone.  Chris has morphed into Dad too instead of Daddy.  I guess we're growing up into our "big kid" names.

Growing ....

Yep, it's true.  Our family is growing.  And, consequently, so is my belly!  Quite rapidly I might add.  We're all so excited as we prepare and await for Baby #3 to arrive sometime in January.  This baby is what we'd like to call a "planned surprise" ... or something like that.  Back this winter/spring we knew that we were wanting to grow our family.  We made some plans, set a timeline for when we would get pregnant (bahahaha ... are you laughing yet?  Because I am!) and (surprise!!) none of it came to pass.  So the positive pregnancy test came a little sooner than we had "planned" but we're still so happy!

And to answer your questions ....

... I'm feeling great!  I was really tired & starving the first trimester, but not sick.  And now that my energy has returned and my appetite has subsided some, I'm feeling pretty much back to normal.  Whatever that means.
... we're due the middle of January.
... no, we don't know what we're having and no, we're not going to find out.  No ultrasound = no gender reveal.
... we've nicknamed the baby "Poppy".
... yes, I'm really only 16 weeks pregnant, even though I look much bigger than that.  (ok, no one's really asked that question, but I know some are thinking it)  When pregnant with Brooks, I wore my pre-pregnancy jeans until 16 weeks.  With Carter, I fit in them until 10 weeks.  Baby #3?  6 weeks.  Six whole weeks before having to break out the stretchy pants.
... yes, we would like a girl and no, we won't be disappointed if we have a boy.  We're looking forward to the surprise and will obviously be happy either way.
... Brooks wants a girl.  He's made that very clear.  His reasoning?  "Well, I already have a baby brother.  Now I need a baby sister."
... We're still seeing a midwife with this pregnancy, but not the one we saw with the boys.  We hired a homebirth midwife.  Because we're having a homebirth!  And we couldn't be more excited about it!!! I'll tell you more about that later.

All in all, things are going really well.  I love being pregnant and I'm looking forward to when I can start feeling baby move around!

A Letter to my Dad

Dear Dad,
Today I just want to say thank you.

Thank you for letting me play with the bait at your tackle shop and doing my hair with rubber bands and fishing spoons.

Thanks for coming to all my band concerts and dance recitals, even though I know you didn't really want to go.  It meant a lot that you came.

When you worked out of town, thanks for calling and playing "our song" over the phone for me.

Thanks for being silly and dancing around the kitchen table with me.

Thank you for teaching me to be an attentive driver.  For teaching me how to brake "gently" and to not cut through parking lots like a "Wisconsin driver".  Thanks for teaching me how to use jumper cables, check the oil in the car and change a flat tire.

Thanks for teaching me how to build a campfire, the difference between oak and pine logs, and the proper way to belch (sorry mom).

Thanks for encouraging me to get a good education, get smart and get a good job.  That's worked out well for me.

Thanks for teaching me to stand up for myself and others, even if no one else will.

Thank you for demonstrating generosity and giving to those who need it.  You've always been willing to 'help a guy out'.

Thanks for not totally freaking out when I told you I was getting married at 20 years old.

Thank you for welcoming Chris into our family.  Thanks for taking him fishing and hunting and for stuffing the ducks and pheasant.

Thank you for being a wonderful Papa to our two boys!  They adore you just as much I do.

Thanks for loving me dad.  Forever and always.  Happy Fathers Day.

Love,
Bug

Hair. Styled.

I'm not entirely sure what fascination my three year old has with styling hair (he NEVER styles his) but he tested out his skills on his little brother this week.  On Monday after lunch, I was cleaning up dishes while the boys went upstairs to play.  I went to check on them and found Carter with, um ... a new hair do.

Brooks had found an ooooooold bottle of perfumey hand lotion and proceeded to "style" Carter's hair with it.  Lots and lots of it.  He was so proud.  And I, honestly, was relieved it was only lotion and not Chris' hair pomade, but still annoyed.  So we had an impromptu bath time and I threw them both in.  The lotion washed right out, but the smell?  The smell did not.  I mean, it's lotion so it doesn't smell bad.  But the flowery perfume smell is a tad overwhelming.  Even today, three days later.  Never a dull moment.

Just like Daddy ... uh, sort of.

This evening Brooks went to the bathroom and like usual, spent a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom. That boy can procrastinate like no one else - even when it's just washing his hands.  After about 30 minutes (no joke!) I went to check on him, fully expecting to see him naked on the floor playing with bath toys.  (Trust me, this happens often.)  Instead I found this......

And I'm gonna be honest.  In that matter of about a minute, I went through a range of emotions, starting with Anger.  What did you do??  You were supposed to be washing your hands!  Then it turned to Annoyance.  Do you know how wasteful that is?  Then it was slightly amusing. I should get the camera!

That was all when I thought it was soap.

It was not.

That, my friends, is hair product.  Lots and lots of hair product.  From what we gathered (and from what he told us) after washing his hands he found Chris' hair product in the cabinet and decided to "style" his hair.  He wanted to be just like daddy!

And again, I was amused.  Aw, that's sweet.  He wants to be just like his Daddy.  Then I came back to annoyance.  Seriously, you were supposed to be washing your hands.  And do you know how wasteful that is??  And then Chris finished up the emotional stages by being upset.  (My Scandinavian husband is rarely angry, so we're just gonna go with upset)  You see, he was the one given the task of removing all that hair product.

To put this in perspective, when Chris does his hair in the morning, he puts a small amount of this gel in between his fingers and works it through his whole head of hair.  Brooks took several handfuls and smeared it in one spot.  I'm assuming this is a petroleum based product, because even when Chris washes his hair, it takes several days for it to come completely out.  So yeah, this was going to be fun to remove.

First, Chris took a paper towel and wiped off as much as he could with that.  Then he put Brooks in the shower and washed his hair ....... FOUR times!  Then he tried combing out the rest.  And even after all that, there is still so.much.left in his hair.  And it is SO greasy and nasty!

Chris attempted to "style" it.

What you're seeing here is completely towel dried hair.  It's not wet, it's greasy!   Blech!!

Oh, and what does Brooks think of all this?  He looked at his new 'do in the mirror and said "Whoah!  I look COOL!!"  

Fantastic.  At least someone is excited about this.

We did explain to him about 42 times and in 17 different ways that he is NOT allowed to put Daddy's gel in his hair by himself.  If he wants to style his hair, he NEEDS to ask Daddy for help.

So, we will wash it again the in the morning in hopes of getting more out before church tomorrow.  (Ahhh, church!)  But as annoyed as I am about it, I guess I'm just thankful he didn't find the hair clippers and attempt to give himself a hair cut.

Knob

This ......

 ..... is a door knob.  (Thank you Captain Obvious!)  To be more specific, it's the doorknob to our downstairs bathroom door.  And.I.HATE.it.  With all of my heart, I hate that door knob!

Now, before I continue, let me say that I normally don't "hate" things.  My mom said "hate" wasn't a nice word, and she's right.  And I generally try not to complain about our old, falling apart house.  Because if I mentioned everything on my "If this was my house, I would do _________" list, I would be complaining for a really long time.  It's not our house, we're not going to invest a lot of money in it and I'm learning to be content.

Anyway, with all that said ... I still really HATE that door knob!  Here's why.  It sticks.  And it doesn't turn properly.  When going into the bathroom, the door will only open if you turn the knob to the left.  It squeaks, it whines ... and don't even get me started on how ugly it is.

 I have a hard time opening the door which means Brooks can't open it at all.  And that makes it worse.  During the day we leave the door shut to keep a certain 16 month old out and keep him from unrolling the toilet paper, playing in the garbage, chewing on the toilet bowl brush ... ya know, stuff like that.  So every time Brooks needs to use the bathroom, he stands there knocking on the door until someone lets him in.  And then knocks on it until someone lets him out when he's done.  Then he'll come out, shut the door and ask me to button his pants.  Then he'll ask me to open the door so he can wash his hands.  He'll go in the bathroom, shut the door and wash his hands.  Then when he's done he .... you guessed it, needs to be let out of the bathroom again.

Argghhhhh!!  I HATE THAT DOOR KNOB!  And although I've patiently put up with it for the last year and a half, I lost all my patience on Sunday night.  "Chris!!  We NEED a new door knob!"  He knew it needed to be replaced ... we just didn't want to spend the money to do it.  But because my sanity is worth more than $20, he and Brooks took a trip to Home Depot that night and bought a new door knob.  And because he's amazing, he replaced that crappy old door knob with a new one that actually works.

(sigh)  I never knew a piece of hardware could make me so happy!  It turns to the left AND to the right.  I can open the door without fighting with the knob.  And now .... Brooks can open the door too.  When he used it for the first time he cheered, "Wow! I can open the door!"  Kid loves the new knob too!  And I'm not gonna lie ... I still get kinda giddy when I open the door.  It's just wonderful.

The Little Things

You know, I shouldn't really be surprised that God cares so much about the little things, but yet when He shows himself faithful and answers my (sometimes whiney) prayers, I'm still amazed.  A big concern for our family (as I'm sure it is with many families) is money.  We live on one income in a tough economy with rising taxes.  Our budget is juuuuust a little bit tight.  And I often find myself worrying about money.  Will there be enough?  How can we make more?  You know, all the usual "I'm depending on myself instead of God" stuff.  But three events have occurred over just the past few days to confirm that my worries are, of course, in vain and that God still sees me.

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1.  I need new clothes.  Now,  don't use the word "need" all to often (since most things are wants) but I really do NEED new clothes.  With our limited budget, money gets spent on other things, like ... you know ... groceries, instead of new clothing for me.  So my wardrobe has dwindled to only a few shirts that actually fit and have no visible stains on them.  So that's what I asked for for Christmas.  And Chris came through.  In fact, tomorrow we're going on a clothes shopping date.

But that isn't the God part.  Ok, well, maybe my husband offering to take me clothes shopping is kind of a miracle, but it gets better.  I wanted to shop at this particular consignment shop in town that has nice clothes for a good price.  (remember?  budget?)  And then, while checking my e-mail the other day I see that our local Groupon is offering a 50% deal to that exact store!  Seriously?  I know it may not seem like much, but every little bit helps with saving money.  So I bought one, of course, and I'm excited to go shopping tomorrow.

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2.  Chris was wanting a coffee warmer for work.  This definitely was a want.  But he sips his first few cups of coffee in the morning, and then chugs the rest of his lukewarm coffee before it gets cold.  He really just wanted something to keep it warm longer.  So we checked online and found that Bed, Bath and Beyond had one for $10.  "Go buy it" I told him.  It's not that much, we actually have a gift card to use there and I know he would really use it at work.

So he stopped in on his lunch break yesterday and told the store clerk what he was looking for.  She says "Well, we do have that one.  But we also have these other coffee warmers over here that are on Christmas clearance for 50% off".  And they were only $5 to begin with!  He went in planning to spend $10 and ending up buying just what he needed for $2.50!

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3.  Last night I had a "Mom's night out" with my friend Katie, something we do from time to time.  We usually head on over to Grille 26, grab a cup of coffee and dessert and enjoy some sweet "kid free" time.  Their desserts are a little pricey, but the $10 is totally worth it for the yummy cheesecake and good conversation.  However, last night we noticed that they have a "Happy Hour" special ... coffee and dessert for $5 after 9pm.  (We've been to this restaurant several times and have never noticed this!)  But it was only 8:30pm.  Hmmmm.  We asked our waitress if she would mind if we waited half an hour to order and she was more than happy to oblige!  So we had our dessert for half price.  Sweet!

Now, it might not seem like saving $5 is a big deal and in all reality, it's not.  But it's not the amount that matters.  Saving 50% off clothes or 75% off a coffee warmer is really God's way of reminding me that he truly does care.  We don't need to worry about money because He has it all under control.  (sigh)  So I'm learning to trust Him.  $5 at a time.

Resolutions Shmesolutions

So I'm not really one for making New Year's resolutions.  I don't keep them.  The perfectionist in me knows that I won't complete them 100% and perfectly, so I won't try at all.  (Note to self: resolve to be less of a perfectionist)

But that's not to say I don't think about things I'd want to do differently in the new year.  I think setting goals is good, I just don't want to commit to them (see above).

Anyway, one thought I had was to post a new picture every day on the blog for ..... get this ..... a whole year!  (sigh)  That's makes me tired and I can already smell the failure.  So perhaps I'll shoot for something more attainable.

I find myself quite often writing blog posts in my head.  And believe me, they're quite good. But I rarely write them down.  To me, a post must be detailed, contain a current event, be free from grammatical error and be somewhat entertaining to read.  (have I mentioned that I'm a perfectionist??)  I don't have time for all that, and therefore don't post as often as I would like to.

So here's my goal.  To post more.  (Vague enough for you?)  Really, I just want to capture more "snapshots" of our everyday life around here.  I think our day to day stuff is pretty mundane, but I don't want to look back and not remember any of it.  I will work more to post just a picture or two.  A short story or a funny Brooks saying.  Each post may not be long or even entertaining, but it's our life.  Take it for what it is.

And to kick it off .........

A series of pictures I call

"We have new Christmas toys??"

Rocket Cake

Well, we've had an interesting Christmas around here this year.  The whole Anderson clan gathered in Sioux Falls to celebrate.  We had grand plans of gingerbread houses, playing games and light seeing.  And although we did get to see the Western Mall Christmas on Saturday, our other holiday plans were cut short due to what we think was food poisoning.  I'll spare you the details but all I can say is I'm thankful we have two bathrooms in our house.

Finally this morning everyone was feeling a bit more human again and we celebrated Christmas.  We enjoyed a lovely breakfast, a huge turkey & fixins' lunch with a whole lotta present opening in between.  But my favorite part of the day?  Jesus' birthday cake.  Our new little family doesn't have many set "traditions" yet but this one thing we've done for two years now and I would like to keep .... making Jesus a birthday cake.  It seems to be a great way for Brooks to understand the real reason we celebrate this holiday. And it's a good reminder for us too.

We talked with Brooks about the cake a week ago and we asked him what kind of cake Jesus would want for his birthday.  He replied "A rocket cake!".  Mmmm, ok?  Then again this morning as I was frosting the cake he said with emphasis that Jesus wanted a rocket cake.  I was kind of wanting to make a nice Christmas cake, elegantly frosted and decorated.  But then I thought .... we always have fun cakes for Brooks' birthdays - puppy cake, basketball ball cupcakes, a baseball cake.  So why shouldn't Jesus have a rocket cake for his birthday?  It makes sense to a three year old, makes sense to me.  So a rocket cake we had.

I have to credit Chris for the artwork.  And Brooks added his embellishments to it.  We set in a candle, sang Happy Birthday to Jesus and celebrated the greatest day in history!  Merry Christmas.

Band-Aid Face

Yesterday while Brooks was doing who knows what, he fell and bumped his face on the floor.  Not hard, but still it warranted many many tears and some screaming besides.  After he calmed down, he told me his lip hurt and he wanted a band-aid.  "On your lip?"  I asked.  Yes, on his lip.  I, in all my adult rationality, explained that band-aids don't go on your lips.  He wasn't buying it.  "You won't like it on your lip.  It will feel funny." I countered.  Still no dice.  He NEEDED a band-aid on his lip.  (sigh)  So I obliged.  The result?

One band-aided lip and one silent kid.   Hmmmm, maybe band-aids on lips are a good idea :)

10 years ago

10 years and 3 months ago I started my freshman year at North Central University.  I went on a tour of downtown Minneapolis with the girls on my floor and the boys on our brother floor and met Chris Anderson for the first time ... and the second time ... and the third time.  (I could not remember that boys name.)

Despite my lack of memory for cute Montana boys' names, I developed a nice little crush.  You know the "he always walks this hallway after class so I think I'll just happen to walk down this hallway too" kinda crush.  And over the next three months we spent time talking, "bumping" into each other, getting to know each other.  (ok, it was more like me stalking him and he not freaking out and running in the opposite direction.  Same thing, right?)

10 years and 2 weeks ago he finally gathered the nerve to ask this girl out on a date.  I. was. ecstatic.

10 years and 1 week ago we went on that date.  We actually double dated with Chris' roommate and his girlfriend (now wife).  It was a lovely evening at the orchestra.  He wore a handsome suit.  I wore an entire ensemble of clothing, of which every piece belonged to someone else (gotta love living in the dorms) and according to him, I looked pretty good too.  He was nervous.  I was giddy.  We held hands (gasp).

Exactly 10 years ago to the day, Chris Anderson asked me to be his girlfriend.  I said yes :)

And 10 years, a wedding, 2 college graduations, 7 homes, 4 cities and 2 kids later ..... here we are.

I'm so glad he asked me on that date :)