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.

Here

It's funny...in kind of a crazy sort of way...that when I was here----

and Aaron was here----

We never would have imagined getting here---

Our first family photo with Noah! 

Or here----

Or here----

Mr. Abram when he was a baby.

And I am so glad we made it here---

Photo by Cassie.

Happy Anniversary Aaron...nine years and counting!  I love you!

My Rabbit

We have a rabbit of different sorts roaming around our house.  I noticed pea pod shells littered throughout our yard.  I could tell this rabbit suffered some disappointment after pulling out some of my carrots, seeing how little the orange root is, and then throwing them back into the garden.  He apparently does not eat the greens. 

Then, my eyes caught sight of tiny green apples---maybe picked from one of our apple trees--- leaving a trail on our front porch... like Hansel and Gretel trying to find their way home.  Some of these little green apples had nibbles marks on them.  Hmmmm....  I must have a rabbit.


Not just any old Peter Cotton Tail kind of a rabbit.  Not the kind of rabbit that a fellow blogger has been having some troubles with. A rabbit who has noticeable chocolate brown eyes, brown hair, and weighs around 35 pounds.  He bounds through the yard picking at the plants, nibbling on the vegetables and the strawberries as he goes.  Sometimes if I quietly watch him from afar... so he does not notice...he sings little made-up songs to himself about the fruits and vegetables that he sees.

It turns out that my little rabbit is really Abram.  And I am going to have a heck of a time keeping him out of the garden.

After

After so many busy days...one after another after another...I find myself already getting slightly burned out by summer.  But only slightly.  To many activities, packed into to few days, stuffed between rotating day shifts and night shifts at the hospital.  Already, I am running out of fun summer food to eat.  Granted, Aaron and I could eat a fresh lettuce salad with caramelized, slivered almonds and strawberries that came from a stroll in the backyard every meal... but that does not substantiate full tummies for my two growing boys.  But, at least the Long Boy Cheeseburgers that I made for supper were a winner.

Cousin Seth with us at the pool.  He had a blast!

It is sad that the summer, in reality, is already half over. Noah is well into swimming lessons, Vacation Bible School is sneaking up on us, and back to school sale ads have graced our mail box.  Abram will soon be starting a summer kindergarten program which will hopefully acclimate him to school so he does not spend the first months crying.

Our canning season also snuck up on us.  Aaron and I have stayed up late at night canning strawberry jam and freezing lugs of peaches. 

16 jars of strawberry jam and counting!  Next up, freezing strawberries (and this is our first year with this strawberry patch---how exciting!)

Although, this year was different.  Standing side-by-side in front of the sink in our kitchen skinning, slicing, and pureeing fruit for hours upon hours put more grimaces than smiles on Aaron's face.  Standing on hard tile, hunched over the sink was not as much fun as it has been in years past.  Every so often, Aaron would move in stiffness and pain---silently grimacing to himself.  But, he did not give up.  Even after me telling him countless times, "You can go lay down.  I can do this..."  He insisted on helping (which I will be eternally grateful for.)

Sometimes I still forget that Aaron broke his back.  I know it sounds silly...but it is true.  It has been months since his surgery and even though it takes about two years for his spine to fully fuse and heal...I think that right now we are at the "best as we can get" part of recovery.  It is hard to accept that he is going to be painful for the rest of his life----especially since he is not even thirty years old yet.  But we (and I do mean we) deal with it and keep on moving. 

Aaron has been back to work, working long hours like a mad man for months now.  He is in the best physical shape that he has ever been in.  Lifting weights everyday and walking on the elliptical and riding bike has kept his body and mind healthy.  He has lost twenty pounds since January and has managed to keep the weight off in a healthy way (which is more than I can say for myself.) 

Today, Aaron called for my attention.

"Amanda."  He said.

"What?"  I said, busying myself with dishes.

"Turn around and look," he commanded.   I could not believe my eyes.

He was holding Abram.  The first time since last January.  Amazing.  I did not think he would ever be able to carry him again. Honestly my first reaction was panic.  I said something like, "You should not be lifting Abram!"  Although he weighs all of thirty five pounds soaking wet.  I think that the look on both of their faces was worth it.