Author: Erin

I got nothing

I don’t know if it’s because I have a cold (the one everyone else in my family is getting over and the one that I’m just getting) or if it’s because I have so many thoughts bouncing around in my head, but I got nothing.

I have been trying to write a blog post for 2 days. I know that I have a couple more posts in my “Leave and Cleave” series, but I can’t make sense for anything. I have things in my brain that are begging to be written, but when I start they hide in the deep dark corners and don’t come back until 3am. I really should have a little notebook to write down my thoughts at that time of the night, but to be honest the thought of actually sitting up in my freezing cold bedroom, using my cell phone for a light so I can see to write and then trying to fall back asleep, just doesn’t appeal to me. I’m pretty sure that if I tried it, I would be awake for hours thinking of all the stuff I need to get done the next day.
I want to write about my family and the things we’re learning together. I want to write something profound and thought provoking. I want to write something that will inspire. But, for now, I got nothing.

Feel the vibe

I’m going to post something intensely personal and open myself up wide to critique and injury. But it’s been rattling around in my brain today and I just gotta put it out there.

I grew up fearing failure. So much hinged on being able to perform well and please those around me. There were times that I felt my very acceptance into humanity depending on if I could act right, say the right things and “fit in”. I spent hours in grade school learning and mimicking the behaviors of those around me. I would study the girls around me in line waiting to go to lunch. I’d watch how they stood, how they talked and how they held their hands when they spoke. I desperately wanted to be a part and not be the “outsider”. I went to school in a very small community and “belonging” was very important. If you didn’t belong…it followed you forever. I never felt like I belonged there and still don’t. But I’ve learned that’s okay.
At home I mastered the art of doing what I was told and trying to limit the “waves” that rocked the boat. I should clarify that my parents weren’t horrible monsters, but they set the bar high and I felt the need to hit the mark. Hitting that mark often determined if I was allowed the privilege to attend a ball game or go on a date.
When I married my husband I had become a really good rule follower and really good “people pleaser”. Tell me what to do, tell me what you expected of me and I would follow your instructions to a T. In fact, I think that my ability to fit in to most situations is because of my ability to “read” people and mimic what I see and hear. I have learned to “fit in” so that I don’t look out of place or like a failure. Growing up I felt that my acceptance, love and inclusion was very conditional and based on my “performance”.
have spent a good portion of our marriage learning to be comfortable in my skin and learning what it’s like to be unconditionally loved. It was and is a difficult concept for me to understand sometimes. I still have trouble grasping how someone can genuinely still like me when I mess up or say something ridiculous. I mean, I know that I unconditionally love and care for those around me, but I have a hard time feeling that in return.
I think that my difficulty in understanding unconditional love stunted my growth in God and has stunted many relationships. It took me a while to trust Kerry to know that he would really love me if I messed up. It has taken me even longer to believe that I have friends who will still like me if I am less than perfect. I stress when I’m put in a position where I feel less than adequate, because of my huge fear of failure and judgement.
My fear has been magnified lately, mostly to myself, in church. I have been playing drums each week for our worship team. I played drums in high school and was comfortable with that. It’s a lot easier to play drums when you have a huge pep band behind you. But when you’re playing in a smaller group, in church, in front of people you know…it’s a whole different ball game. But here’s the thing…I’m surrounded by people who genuinely care for me. They don’t judge me based on my drumming, but I’m still fearful. I have been concentrating so much each week on keeping a steady beat (because I don’t want to be responsible for throwing the song off and “ruining” the moment for someone) that I have forgotten to let the Spirit lead me. I have forgotten that this is WORSHIP. It’s not a “don’t look stupid”, but it’s a GLORIFY GOD time.
Today our worship leader (who happens to be about 5 years younger than I), told me to “feel the vibe” to just work from the “spirit of things and worry about mechanics later”. He said “I don’t care if you mess up…” Whoa! You don’t know how freeing that was for me to hear. I didn’t rock it out during the worship set, but knowing that I was free to make a mistake without feeling like there was a penalty was fantastic. I mean seriously…that little bit of permission felt like it broke a dam. And I have to tell you…it’s not like our worship leader it this big music dictator. But I have been so paralyzed by fear of a mistake and failure that it has prevented me from being able to worship, or even enjoy playing.
I am so thankful that God can use me in my weakness. I am so thankful that he loves me even though I’m imperfect and that I don’t have to do anything to “earn” his forgiveness. I feel very blessed to have a husband to loves me regardless of my imperfections. And I’m learning that I have friends who really do accept me and aren’t going to put me in friend “time out” if I screw up the beat in worship on Sunday morning.
It’s a hard lesson to learn and it’s hard to trust. But lately I’ve been reminding myself that God’s power is perfected in weakness. That is so reassuring! So I encourage you to “feel the vibe” and embrace all you are in Christ. Be thankful that God will use your weakness to show His power.

2 Corinthians 12:9

New American Standard Bible (NASB)

9 And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast [a]about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.

Life with boys

Life with boys…It’s an adventure. This past week especially. Here are some things I’ve learned about being the only girl in a house full of boys.

1. Teach them to clean bathrooms early. Once they start potty training, it’s pretty much guaranteed that you will need to clean the bathroom on a fairly frequent basis. At the very least the toilet will need a good wipe down and most likely the floor around it too. So…since I don’t use the facilities standing up I’ve taught the boys how to clean the bathroom. I haven’t cleaned a toilet for almost a year. In fact, as part of our life skills day today Gabe cleaned all 3 bathrooms by himself and he did a stand up job. (Hehehe). Oh yeah…don’t put the good bathroom rugs in the boys bathroom either.
2. Get used to body humor. I don’t think it really matters how much you try to avoid this, but at some point with boys farts, burps and arm toots become really funny. I would, however, recommend limiting it to places other than the dinner table, public gatherings and church.
3. Save money for co-pays. We have learned to just budget for a co-pay each month. With 4 boys, we’ve spent our share of time in urgent care, the orthopedic office and the pediatricians office. By the way…did you know that they don’t put casts on in the peds office any more? They send you to the ortho office…it’s all just a scam if you ask me, but I can’t do anything about it. In the 8 (almost 9 years) we’ve had our boys…we’ve had 3 broken arms and a broken nose. I’m pretty sure that the count will only go up from there.
4. It pays to have some dermabond (think super glue for skin) around. If we ran to Urgent care for every thing that needed to be pulled together we’d be very poor. Otto seems to be our “laceration/open wound” kid. We have had to take him for staples a time or two, but for most things the dermabond works just fine.
5. I might also suggest being a nurse. Again…cost savings here is totally worth it. Parenting in general isn’t for sissies and parenting boys makes it doubly true. Being a nurse helps me decide if it’s really something that needs to be seen or just a “rub dirt in it and walk it off” kind of thing.
6. Buy livestock. Seriously. We have purchased a whole cow the last 2 years in a row. We have had just a little left at the end of each year. I can’t imagine what it will be like when these guys get to be teenagers. We already have 2 deep freezers and keep them fairly full. I’m thinking that a future in cattle farming may not be a bad investment…except we’d eat all the profits. Oh yeah…consider purchasing chickens (we go through 5 dozen eggs a month easily), goats (for milk…I hear they’re much easier to milk) and possibly 10 acres for a garden.
7. Don’t buy expensive jeans or shoes. They wear them out so fast that it doesn’t matter if you spend $50 or $10 on jeans. Crawling around on hands and knees causes the same wear and tear. I promise.
8. There will be some brawls. Boys are physical. They play and fight and work physically. Everything they do is physical. The throw punches at the same time they’re hugging each other. They jump while they’re counting, folding laundry or eating dinner.
9. They are loving and tender-hearted. Our boys care about each other and other people. They write each other notes, make gifts and generally watch out for one another. Even though they’re busy…they need hugs and kisses regularly.
10. You will do lot of laundry. I mean lots. It will be muddy, dusty and sometimes slimy. I would suggest making sure you check pockets before you put them in the washer, otherwise you’ll end up with a basin full of rocks, sticks, coins and possibly a small creature that didn’t survive the spin cycle.
11. I wouldn’t trade having boys for anything. We get a lot of comments about having all boys and people are always so astounded when I tell them I would take 10 more even if they’re all boys. I delight in our boys. I delight in their activity, in their energy and in their “boyness”. My boys bring me so much joy. They may be busy and active, but they don’t have me running crazy and they’re not a “disaster” or “trouble” like so many fear. My boys rock.
If I’m ever blessed with a girl…I’d delight in her as well, but it’s not like I’m disappointed that I don’t have a girl yet. If God gives me boys for the rest of my life…I’d be thrilled. I figure if I have all boys that I will get my “daughters” when they get married.
Every child is a gift from God, boy or girl. They each have their own unique personality and I really believe that it’s all in your perspective.

Leave and Cleave : Respect – Heart matters

Respect begins in the heart.

Proverbs 4:23

New American Standard Bible (NASB)

23 Watch over your heart with all diligence,
For from it flow the springs of life.

The thoughts we have about our husband overflow into our “real life” and into our actions, our words and our relationships. Respect for our husbands is no different. If we don’t respect him in our hearts, we’re not going to be able to fool anyone into believing that we respect him either.

What if he hasn’t done anything worthy of respect? I can hear the indignant questions from angry wives everywhere. My husband doesn’t deserve my respect. My first question to those women is “what have you done worthy of his love?” I hate to tell you ladies (and myself sometimes) that nowhere does it say to “wait until he deserves it to show him respect” We’re supposed to do it right out of the shoot. Our husbands will answer to God for their actions and choices, we don’t get to say when he’s “good enough”.

Second, I would suggest that we should respect our husbands not because he is *worthy* of our respect, but because we are commanded by God to respect him. Who is your master? Whom are you serving when you’re respectful and obedient to your husband (I’ll give you a clue…it’s not your husband).

Very few human beings aren’t worthy of at least some respect.

I would also encourage you to examine by whose standard are you judging your husband and his worthiness? Are you looking to the world to tell you how a many “earns” respect or are you looking at the biblical standard of what a husband is to be?

One of the first ways we can begin to show respect and be respectful in our hearts is to stop trying to control our husbands. Stop trying to make him fit into a mold that the world tells us he should fit in to. Stop trying to “reform” him.

Many ladies I know seem to think that the man they were dating will magically change to the man they want them to be after the wedding. You know what? Same guy. The best we can do is to grow with our husbands, mature with them. And we can help him grow, we can share our ideas and thoughts with him, but we shouldn’t be critical of his every move and decision.

Our hearts are where respect for our husbands begin. It’s like planting a seed. If we can plant one or two seeds of respect there and nurture them they will spill over into the other areas of our lives.

I encourage you this week to find one or two things you can respect about your husband. You don’t have to say anything to him about those things if you don’t want to. But begin and end each day praising him in your heart. Praise God for those things about your husband. When you want to just smack your man upside the head or roll your eyes at him or say something hurtful…stop. Think about your “respect seeds” start cultivating that attitude towards him from the roots up.

Garden of the Gods trip

We took our first trip to Garden of the Gods this last week as a family.

Mom and her boys. 🙂 The boys were most anxious to be able to climb the rocks.

Pretty view.

Gabe and Otto exploring one of the small spaces only they could fit in.

Titus spent the trip on my back in the wrap so most of the pictures of the boys are of the 3 big boys.

This was their favorite part. We could have spent all day here just letting them climb.

There he is!

Zeke was holding on to the tree root to keep from sliding down the hill.

The views were great!

We went for a picnic at a park close by. While we were sitting there eating, we saw this herd of deer move through just like it were an everyday thing. It was pretty cool.
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Leave and Cleave R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Ephesians 5:33

English Standard Version (ESV)

33However,(A) let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she(B) respects her husband

To tell you the truth when I first thought about respect and why it’s so important to my husband…I didn’t get it. I mean sure, who doesn’t like to be respected and valued, but it is integral in making your husband feel loved. It’s what makes him feel like he’s the man, your mate…your hero.

Over the next few weeks my plan is to talk about respect and how to respect your husband. It starts in your heart, your home and in public. So first let’s talk about what respect is and why it’s important.

By definition respect means to hold someone in esteem, defer to them, to show regard or honor for someone or something. I don’t know about you but I winced just a little when I read that. I know that I certainly haven’t always deferred to my husband or shown him the highest esteem. Ouch.

But why does the Bible command us to respect our husbands? He’s supposed to love us, but we’re to respect him. A lot of women are going to say, “but they’re one and the same…I can’t feel loved unless I’m respected” But they are different.

To esteem your husband means you hold him in high regard. In some ways respect can also be tied to admiration and appreciation of your husband. Kerry (my husband) tells me that in a way respect is the outward expression of our inward submission to him. I’ll get to the submission posts after this series, because I know that’s a tough pill for a lot of women to swallow.

Respect speaks to the heart of a man. Respect lets him know that he is valued and he is admired by someone else. In showing respect to our husbands we are also showing that we believe they are the head of our household and we believe they are totally capable in this role. Respect doesn’t just mean that we hold him in high esteem, but that we care about his thoughts and his feelings.

If a man doesn’t feel he is worthy (or getting) his wife’s respect, he will be dejected, depressed and may seek that respect elsewhere. It doesn’t make it right, but it does make it easier.

I challenge you this week to think about how you can show more esteem and respect for your husband. Ask him what makes him feel respected or honored. You might be surprised to hear the answers.

A good place to start would be pay attention to how you talk about and to your husband. How do you represent him to others? How do you talk about him in front of your children or your co-workers?

Celebrating today and looking back

A year ago today I had one of the most amazing and rewarding experiences of my life. I had an awesome homebirth. It was what I needed to heal from some less than ideal birth experiences. I still say that it totally rocked! For those who haven’t heard or read the story, I’ve posted it below the pictures. 
Titus has been such a blessing to our family. He is laid back, happy and very tolerant of his brothers. I have loved snuggling him, holding him and watching him do the things that babies do. After the birth of each child, Kerry and I look at eachother and say “we’ve forgotten how fun this is!” (And yes we say that even when they’re 20 months apart like Zeke and Titus are). 
I love his perpetual mohawk and his joyful nature. It’s been delightful the last few weeks to hear him talk and walk more. I look back at the day he was born and am so thankful for the prayers God answered that day. We continually praise Him for the blessings He’s given us and His provision. We are thankful that my mom was able to be here for his birth, we are thankful that God allowed Titus to be born at home (something we prayed for daily from the day we found out we were pregnant)  and so thankful that we have been blessed with 4 happy healthy boys. 
Below are a couple pictures from a year ago and some from our party at home tonight. 


The 3 big boys on 8/26/2010
They were amazingly chipper and happy for being up so late the night before. Both Gabe and Otto stayed up until about 2am to watch Titus get checked over by our midwife. Otto couldn’t keep his hands off of his baby brother. We watched the video recently and could hear ourselves asking him to move because his head or his hand was in the way of trying to do the assessment. Zeke was the only one that night who got a good night sleep. 

The next morning our birth photographer came to take pictures of our new little addition. He seems so little looking back. We loved getting to know all of his little features as a family. There is just something about a newborn baby that begs to be touched, held, kissed and loved. 
His first birthday cake. 
August 26, 2011
Do you know how hard it is to get a 1 year old to pose for a picture on Sunday morning?
When we first started singing to him and showing him the cake he wasn’t sure what to think about all the commotion. He was delighted however when the cake moved closer and he could get a good handful. 

Yellow + Blue = Green. 
He had a delightful time eating cake and ice cream!
BIRTH STORY (this is the story I posted a few days after Titus was born to Facebook)
We have been so blessed with the addition of Titus this past week! I’ve had several people send me messages asking if his homebirth was “on purpose” so I thought I’d write an abbreviated version of our birth story. In short…yes his homebirth was on purpose and it was awesome!
His birth story begins kind of with Gabe’s almost 8 years ago. I had a c-section with him after a failed induction at 37 weeks. With Otto I had a repeat c-section and when it was time for me to have Zeke, my doctor who had initially been VBAC (vaginal birth after a cesarean) friendly changed his mind and threatened to drop me from his practice. I felt very backed into a corner and consented to my 3rd c-section.
When I became pregnant with Titus, I wanted a different outcome and began researching my options and the current research regarding having a 4th c-section to having a VBAMC (VBAmultipleC). The research is limited, but what there is shows that even VBAMC are relatively safe and the risk of uterine rupture (which is the big fear with VBAC) is still less than 1-2%. The current culture in the hospital is not VBAC friendly even after 1 c/s and is definitely not friendly after 2 or more.  So I began researching a homebirth with a midwife, discussing options and research with Kerry and covering each decision with lots of prayer. I would encourage any woman to do her research and pray before making her birth choices. There is a lot out there.
We found a midwife willing to take me as a client, who was also a believer, and began our journey. My pregnancy, like all of them, was uneventful and pretty normal. As part of my care, I saw a chiropractor once a month to help align my pelvis and spine and help position baby correctly. One of the reasons I had a c/s with Gabe was because he was malpositioned, so I wanted to avoid that if at all possible.
We prayed regularly as a family for God to honor our desire to have more children (something that would be really frowned upon after having 4-5 c/s) and our desire for a homebirth. Every time fear would creep in, we’d pray and turn it over to God. He has answered so many prayers along the way!
Towards the end of my pregnancy, I started to get nervous that my body wouldn’t know what to do. It had never been asked to actually “get a baby out”. I was wondering if it would know how to go into labor, how to birth a baby, and would I be strong enough to do it?
The day after my due date I started having a few contractions, but they weren’t terribly uncomfortable or regular, although they felt different from the contractions I’d been having for weeks. We spent the day running errands, I made a quick visit to the chiropractor (just in case this was really it) and napped in the afternoon. My contractions kept coming, but were still irregular and relatively comfortable. I called our midwife a couple of times during the day to update her, but felt like it was going to be a long evening/night if this was the real thing.
That evening about 7pm or so we took a mile(ish) walk around our neighborhood. My contractions were still irregular, but I had to stop a couple of times to let them pass. I was still able to talk through them. Being a L&D nurse, I really wasn’t sure this was going to be it or that it would be any time soon, because nothing was textbook. 🙂
I decided to rest and just hang out that evening and talked to our doula and photographer about 10pm. I talked to her through a contraction and told her I wasn’t sure I’d need her yet, but she could come this way just so she’d be here when I did. Mom and I set up the air mattress in our spare room because I was sure they (the doula) would be sleeping here. I also called the midwife and told her I was still doing fine and I’d have Kerry call when we needed her, but not to worry I thought it was going to be a while still.
I laid down on the couch to get some rest, and had one really big contraction that was quite uncomfortable. But the next couple were manageable again. My water broke about 10:30 and that’s when things got “fun”. Kerry called the midwife to let her know and she said she’d head down. Kerry and I came upstairs to fill the pool (we had set up a little pool in our bedroom for me to labor in) and my contractions started coming much much faster and stronger. Mom and the big boys (Zeke was asleep) were downstairs watching a movie and had no idea things had really picked up.
I spent about 30 minutes in the pool and then walked to the bathroom. Once I was there my contractions were so intense and my mind was racing. Kerry says I was really pretty calm, but in my mind I was going nuts. At one point I told Kerry “I’m hysterical….I can’t be hysterical”. He was so good at keeping me calm and focused. He wasn’t (at least he didn’t act like it) scared or panicked at all. About 10:15 I felt my body pushing and I couldn’t stop. In my head I was sure I wasn’t ready to push and was worried I was going to do something that would make my labor go longer.
At that point, Kerry took the cell phone to mom and asked her to call our midwife to let her know I felt like pushing and to hurry. 🙂 The midwife told me to go ahead and push if I needed to and that she was about 15 minutes away. Mom and Kerry stayed in the bathroom with me and the boys kept watching their movie. Kerry suggested I move to the pool again, because he thought I would be more comfortable and it would be easier to birth there. I made it about two steps before I said “I can’t” and kneeled on the floor.
The next thing I really remember was telling mom and Kerry “there is his head” and to “check for a nuchal cord” (a cord around the neck). He had a loose one that we could easily slip over and the rest of him was born. I was able to put him right on my chest and we covered him with towels  and dried him off, he was pink right away. I think I kept saying “I did it! I did it!” Kerry was so excited, but still very calm and had the presence of mind to grab the camera and take a few pictures.
He asked the big boys if they wanted to come see their brother and they both ran upstairs. Gabe (***note we later found out that Gabe handed the camera off to Otto) took the camera and took pictures, and he did such a good job! About 10 minutes after he was born our midwife came in. The apprentice midwife came about 10 minutes after that. Titus James was born at 11:32pm on 8/26/10. He was direct OP (which means facing up instead of down, the same position Gabe was in), but I truly think prayer, positioning and the care I received made all the difference. He weighed 7lbs 11oz (my second biggest baby) and was 19 3/4 inches long. The rest of the story is pretty “routine” for postpartum, but it just all happened at home which was awesome!
I didn’t really think I would go that quickly in labor, especially since I hadn’t done it before. I was completely surprised by the whole experience, but it was exactly what we needed.
I fully believe in birth choices. I think women should be able to choose when, where and how to give birth. By in large, those choices are being taken away for many reasons. If a woman wants to birth in a hospital, home or birthing center…let her. If she wants to VBAC or schedule a repeat c/s…let her. I often heard after my c/s that what really mattered was a “healthy mom and healthy baby” which is true…but that health also includes mental health. For some women it is mentally and physically the best choice to have another c/s, for others it is the option to have a VBAC.
For me, this time and every time from now on (Lord willing), homebirth will be my choice. I pass no judgement on whomever chooses something different for their birth. It is important that the risks vs benefits are considered for each option and in each case. And for each woman make the decision that is right for her, her family and her baby.
Each birth and each child is special and a blessing however they co
me. This birth for me though, has been incredibly healing, empowering and faith building. God is good and we are so thankful for His blessings and His faithfulness. I want to add too, how incredibly important it was for me to know that others were praying for me. My midwife, my doula, our families and friends. I believe God honored those prayers and they brought me so much peace and confidence throughout this whole process. He has blessed us many times over!
Praising Him,
Erin

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Birthdays

Somewhere in the last 2 weeks I had a birthday. It wasn’t particularly eventful or really that big of a deal. In fact, most people seem to think it’s a much bigger deal that I do. When I was a kid I used to really look forward to birthdays, I think most of us did. I always secretly hoped for that big present that I really wanted and usually got clothes instead. (A much more practical gift).

As I uncelebrated by birthday a couple weeks ago, there was still part of me hoping for that big surprise, that big shebang. But there was also part of me that felt like it was no big deal. It’s just another day. I don’t even share a birthday with anyone really famous. Except for a hockey player here and there and a spelling bee champ!
Turning 30 wasn’t this big earth shattering thing for me. In fact, I think the thing that disappoints me the most about turning 30 is the lack of “shock” people will express when they find out that I have 4 children and a master’s degree. I’ve always kind of liked that look of “wow I thought you were so much older” when people found out how old we were. Now I expect the reaction of “yep…that’s about right”.
And really what bothers me more than anything about turning 30 isn’t how old I am, but how old all the little kids from my past have become. I still feel fairly young to be honest. Not nearly old enough to remember holding cousins, who graduated from highschool this year, when they were just a few hours old. Or to have one of the girls I was a classroom aid for in highschool turn 21 and have 2 babies. Seriously. That’s what bothers me the most. They all have gotten so much older and I still feel so very much the same. I’d like to think it’s my eternal optimism that keeps me “young at heart” (how many cliche’s can we fit in one sentence?). But really…
My views and beliefs have changed and I’d like to think of myself as more mature in my thinking than I was when I was 20, but I don’t feel any older. I feel like the same old me, in a slightly more “used” version. 🙂 Maybe used isn’t the right word…but neither is older model. It’s just…me at 30 instead of 20. Big deal.
I’m still bummed about losing the shock value (I have always liked to keep folks on their toes). But I guess that’s gotta go sometime. I guess I’ll have to settle for the “shock” I get from my kiddos when they say “mom…you’re 30?!? That’s old!!!”