Struggles

Sometimes everyday feels like a struggle.  Struggle with kids to take showers...with dogs who insist on digging everything up...struggle with getting lids to seal while canning...struggle with my husband who does things he probably shouldn't...with myself to be not-so-crabby and to be a good Christian wife. 

I know that I am constantly being tested to prove myself.  How am I going to handle my two boys when they are being disobedient or disrespectful?  Have I let their slight of tongue go too far?  Did the words that rolled off of my own tongue hurt those that I love?  Was I too quick to judge?

Parenting is my biggest struggle lately. 

Maybe it is because my kids are changing and so I need to adapt my parenting skills (or lack there of) to them.  Maybe it is because the summer is coming to a swift end and returning to school is right around the corner. 

Or maybe it is because life changes too quickly for us to adapt to it. 

Sometimes I squeeze my eyes shut and wish for my boys to be little---er again.  Like, cuddly stage littler.  I feel my heart long for that.  Ten years ago I would never have thought that would be something that I miss so terribly...an emptiness that I have nothing to fill it with.

But then "it" happened today.  This afternoon I spent a couple of hours at a friends house...doing facials of all things.  When we were done having much needed girly time (I wish I would have brought my camera) I returned to my mom's house to pick up my boys.

I totally vegged out on mom's amazingly comfy couch.  Her house always relaxes me to the point where I could sleep sitting up.  Anyway...I was vegged on the couch and then I felt it...my little guy curled up next to me.  You know, in the crook of my arm.  A few seconds later, big brother gently curled up by my legs.  I know that it sounds crazy, but those few minutes of cuddle time were what I needed.  That quiet time with just me and my boys.  No fighting to break up, no phone calls to interrupt, no noise of the television.  Just us.  It was priceless.

Another Day

This morning I woke up to this.... a familiar companion that crawls into bed with me as soon as Aaron leaves.

I detached myself from the bed and headed downstairs to have my daily cup of coffee (or four) when I glanced out the window and saw this...

Another hole to fill in.

Yep.  That's our dog digging to China---again.  The black specks on the photo, well, that is dirt flying.  This is a hole she insists on digging every. single. day.


The plan for the day:  apples.  My sister-in-law's beautiful summer apples were ripe for the picking.

Picking the apples out of trees and then processing them into either apple sauce, or whatever treats we want at the time, is an all day event.  We start bright and early in the morning and work until midnight---or later.  This year, I sent Noah to do the pickin' as I have been bogged down by a summer cold.  So, I cannot take the credit for that.  But, the eleven hours of processing and preserving work after the apple pickin' was a joint effort on all of our parts.  Mmmm...our home smelled like fall.

During our apple day, two moms (my sister-in-law's name is Amanda too) managed four little boys and three extra large tubs of apples. 

We had lots of "little helpers" (too much help at times.)  I found half eaten apples everywhere in our house!

During, that time we had one boy go to swimming lessons, one boy go to a summer reading program, and one boy go to ER for staples in his head (that would be Abram... it's a long story that involves him being told not to horse around on the couch...not listening...and then consequently getting his scalp put back together.)  Otherwise, it probably would not have taken so long.

Anyway, at least Amanda and I have wonderful BEAUTIFUL applesauce until next season.  Really, it just feels like another day.

Wheat

Today I was determined to make an attempt...

A seemingly futile attempt to take photos of the boys in the wheat.

Last year the blonde and I ventured out to take photos of our kids and she caught some amazing pics of the kids (and she knows how uncooperative they can be at times.)
 
There is something beautiful about wheat right before it is harvested.  The golden color...the texture of the fields in the breeze... I never really notice the wheat fields until it magically turns from green to gold. 

The boys and I had a jam packed day planned (just like any other summer day) including kindergarten in the morning, plans for these photos in the wheat field, swimming, piano, a birthday supper, and hopefully an early bedtime to prepare for the next day.

So, this is how the photo opportunity went...

It started out with sheer boredom...

"Smile Noah," I attempted.

"I am smiling," he replied.

Then the horsing around began...

And continued on and on...

Until 2.2 minutes after we arrived they were begging to leave... and then little brother decided that he was leaving (with or without us.)  He said he was walking home.  And he was serious!

Until I begged, pleaded and bribed them to stay for a couple more shots...and they would but only if they could take the photos.  And, so they did.

Please smile and pretend you are having fun Abram!

Time to give mom back her camera, Mr. Abram.

 Needless to say, we will not be hanging any photos of the boys in the wheat above our couch this year.  Oh, well.  Maybe next year!

The Other Female

{The real reason for this post is that I am trying to learn some of the advanced settings of my camera and the only cooperative subject that I have living in my house is the cat...if you can call her cooperative.  My camera is now taken off of auto as the blonde and brunette bloggers and I are taking a photography course.  So, bear with me as I try out the manual settings.}

I have had a slight problem with the other female in the house... she has been very naughty.

Us girls have got to stick together, but her terrible habits need to stop.  What terrible habits could a cat have?  Well, hers is the worst---even though the boys find it amusing.

The crazy cat is always grooming the boys!  Abram nestled himself between Mr. Giraffe and the kitty.  But, her grooming is not her terrible habit.

I know that cats have a sense of pride... well maybe it is more of a prissiness.  Anything they catch, dead or alive, they have to show their "master"--if cats have a master.  Well, our indoor cat's master seems to be Noah.  She has a very naughty habit of bringing little critters into the house.  We have found dead mice in the living room...hopping frogs in the kitchen (she never seems to put forth the effort to actually kill the frogs)...alive mice in the entryway...and decaying mice neatly tucked away under her masters bed.  Trust me, the only critters that we get in our 90 year old house are the ones she brings in. 

She hides between the plants in our bay window like she is in a jungle.

Then, the last straw came---

Noah had his best bud, Emmanuel (who is an amazing child,) stay overnight.  It was one of those sleepless nights that was riddled with storms.  So, needless to say, no one got any sleep. 

At around 0600 in the morning, Emmanuel burst into our bedroom, "Your cat dropped a rat on me!"

Still slightly sleepy I replied, "You have got to kidding."

"No, she dropped a rat on my legs!" he exclaimed.  His eyes were as huge as dinner plates.

I hopped out of bed, ran into a wall, and burst into Noah's bedroom.  Yep.  Sure enough, there was a dead field mouse on the bed.  How embarrassing!

Well, our indoor-outdoor kitty has now turned into an indoor kitty.  Her cat doors are permanently sealed up and her little habit of bringing critters into our house has stopped.  Now, she just chases, and occasionally catches flies.

"You can't help that.  We're all mad here."~ The Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.