Welcome home Brady!

The boys made Brady and Me some awesome welcome home signs.

Chrissy and the boys were excited when we arrived.

Hannah and Chrissy were there to help us all day. I was under strict orders to take it easy.

A proud big brother.

Another one.

I look old don't I? Wow, four kids really does a number on you doesn't it? Here I am reading the boys "Johnny Texas on the San Antonio Road." Good book, you should pick it up.

Look at this. Look at it. Have you ever seen us look more pulled together? Like little cherubs, that's what it reminds me of. And then I'm sitting there, with non-maternity clothes on and make-up. This was Sunday morning, Brady was a week old and we were headed for church. We owed the kids ice cream after this one.

Brady Mays

Brady Mays Ellis

Born Feb. 5, 2012

8 lbs. 11 oz.

For the fourth baby I had a pretty long labor. I started having contractions at 7:45 in the evening Saturday, went to the hospital at 5:00 am Sunday morning and had Brady around 1:30 on Super Bowl Sunday. -No, we didn't name him after Tom Brady, even if he was quarterbacking one of the teams vying for the championship.

This was taken right after he was born.

So sweet.


Eyes are open!

Chilling with Mom in the room.

Number four is a BOY!

Four sons. Could it get any better than that? This was our first baby whose gender was a surprise to us. Neither of us had preference on this last one --despite having three boys already. A girl would bring a new dimention to our family, but having a house full of boys seemed like something special.
My reaction when child number four was first held up for inspection: "A boy! Alright!"
Brady, don't let anyone ever tell you that we were trying for a girl when we got you. It's simply not true. We are thrilled with what you are and are excited to see who you become.

Did we win?

Before Jack was born, before we were married, before we were engaged, back when Mike and I were that high school couple that never sat together at youth group... I had a dream.

Mike and I were both officials for the YMCA through high school and college. It was a dream job if you love the Texas heat and enjoy being criticized by adults who had a way worse view than you. We loved the kids and getting to be a part of sport and liked that we could work only the hours we chose. I mostly officiated baseball and Mike did soccer, baseball and I think some basketball too. I would go to the soccer fields when he was reffing and watch him blow the whistle and throw out parents. Nothing is more attractive. During those moments a dream was born.

I imagined myself sitting in a lawn chair on the sidelines of a soccer field on a cool Saturday morning with a stroller parked next to me where the little one would be contently eating goldfish and sipping apple juice. I'd look across the field to the opposite sideline where I'd see Mike, clipboard in hand, coaching his heart out. Our son would be the kid on the field that had just been credited with an assist and was now helping up an opponent that had fallen to the ground. I'd cheer for our team in celebration of their most recent point then sip on my still hot coffee. The fresh air would be both invigorating and relaxing at the same time. What better way to spend a Saturday morning...

It was a dream.

A dream I have been dreaming for 10 years.

This fall it was to be realized!

Except...

It wasn't exactly like that.

It was more like this:

"Jack! Have you found your cleats?"
"Well, where did you put them after practice last week?"
"You can't find your socks either?... Oh! I know where they are, they are still in the washer." "They are just a little damp, you can wear them!"
"You have to wear them! We don't have any others."
"Mike, is it supposed to be over 110 again today?"
"It is? Awesome."
"Did you grab your water?"
"Mike! Is the stroller and the snacks and the chairs and the kids drinks all in the van?"
"How long does it take to drive there?"
"We are late already??"
"Tell me it's not our week to take the team snacks!"
...
"Quick Jack, run with dad to the field."
"Mike, do you know where field 5 is?"
"OK, call me when you find it and we'll head over there."
"Hurry Jack, the game is about to start!"
"Ty, you can't ride in the stroller, I need your seat to hold the chairs."
"Ty, keep up with me, we are missing the game. They only play for 40 minutes."
"Hello, Mike? Did you find the field? It's not near field 6? On the other side of the complex? Ok, we'll turn around and head your way."
"Ty, we didn't bring you a chair, you sit in the stroller and watch the game."
"Ty, you are in my seat. Ok, I guess you can sit there. I'll sit on the ground."
"It is so hot! Mike did you grab the waters out of the van? We have one bottle? Great!"
"Ty! Don't pour the water on the ground!!! That is all we had to drink!"
"I'm sorry Austin, we don't have any wa-wa. We'll get you some later."
"GOOooooo JACK!!"
"No, Austin, you can't get out of your seat."
"Come on Turbo!!"
"Austin, you can't play with that ball, it's just for the big boys."
"What's that Ty? You need to go potty?"
"Ok."
"I'll take him Mike, you watch Jack since you couldn't make that last two games."
"Ty, I told you not to touch anything in the restroom! Especially the toilet seat!"
"Wash with soap."
"Don't touch the door, I've got it."
"No, we are not buying a Powerade."
"Baby, can you walk any faster? We are missing the game!"
"We're back, did we miss much Mike?"
"Oh, that's it? It's over?"
"Did we win?"

That was how it actually went --and that was on the days when Mike was there to help.

Did we win? Yes. We did. We won every game except for the ones we tied --according to Jack. We would think about what sort of pep talk we would need to give our son who has been known to get really upset when he didn't win at something. We never needed to give the "You tried hard and that's all that matters" speech. He came over to us after every game and announced that they had won. Either we need to work on his counting skills or I don't understand scoring in soccer. Doesn't matter. We never corrected him, we'll working being a good loser next season.

Jack had a phenomenal coach and his experience this fall has left him wanting to play next season. So, until then, I will keep the dream alive. Maybe one day I'll be sipping hot coffee on a cool morning while relaxing in my lawn chair watching my studly husband inspire the athletes of tomorrow.

Maybe.

Arkansas

Two days.

Two days in Arkansas and already teeth are falling out. (No offense Shellye)

Our new house came with a fun slide/swing set play thing in the backyard that was an instant hit. Looks like fun doesn't it?

Who knew this plastic slide would be the cause of my 21-month-old losing a front tooth? He wasn't even doing anything dangerous on it.

Mike was in the backyard watching the kids while I was inside checking box numbers off the list as the movers brought things into the house. Mike came in with a little boy who had obviously been crying and had blood around his mouth. Mike asked me to clean up his mouth and comfort him a bit. He said that Austin had bit his tongue. I cleaned him up and sent the content little guy back out to play. A few minutes later Jack came in yelling, "Mom! Austin's mouth is bleeding!" I go out to check on it and find him with a little more blood so I investigate his tongue more closely.

"Tongue looking good... teeth look ... wait a minute.

There's a big red hole where a tooth is supposed to be!" I felt my stomach get all icky and my surroundings started to float a little. I paused for a moment then went to Mike.

"Austin's front tooth is gone." I calmly tell him.* He gets up and we walk over to the basketball goal where Austin and Jack had been playing. Nothing there. Back to the slide and sure enough there at the bottom of the slide lying on top of the dirt was this:

"How is this even possible?" You ask.

I don't know.

Mike's friend, Tim, told Austin: "You may be the third boy, but you are the first one to lose a tooth!"

That's one way to look at it. If not teeth, at least he has bragging rights.

*despite my calmness that was a rough thirty minutes, but at least I met (via the phone) a really awesome dentist.

Ellis' in Greenville

Well folks, he did it.

Done now after 3 or 4 years of working on papers by candle light. He'd put the boys to bed, hang out with the wife then when I'd get sleepy he'd get up and go study for an hour or two. He was so good at keeping his study time from interfering with family time that I didn't even know he was working on a Masters until 2 years into it. The man hasn't had a Sunday afternoon nap in four years. If he was home and we were sleeping, he was studying.

Boy is he glad he's done!





After graduation Mike and I left the children in Greenville and headed back to Abilene to oversee the move. Due to cutbacks in the Air Force this move was less government supervised and much more of a headache. See below. Mike and I spent hours chilling on this rug waiting while the slowest people in the planet packed and moved our stuff. I'm so thankful that the boys weren't there going crazy.

Helpful people like this one (Joe) kept the kids happy and healthy while Mike and I were moving.

For the last two months we thought we were going to have a house built for us in Arkansas. Turns out we were wrong. God changed the plans for us on that. No problem except that we didn't have a place to live and needed to begin the house search again. Well, we found one. We drove up and looked at it and immediately put in an offer. After a little bit of negotiating we bought a house! I'm very excited about moving in and making this place home. It comes with an acre and a half of land for the boys to explore. It couldn't be more perfect for our family.

Ty had a birthday. My smiley little guy has turned four. For those of you with little bitty kids, four is big. No longer a toddler, no longer struggling to communicate, no longer having potty training issues. No, this guy is big. I'll put up a birthday post soon. I'm working on collecting all the pictures. Here he is waiting on the UPS man to deliver him a package full of birthday party supplies --glow sticks!

So I told you the house was perfect for us right? Well it is, or it will be... after we add another 500 sq. feet. Dad is showing Mike how to build stairs.

We've been being a little more creative with activities for the boys since we are not at home and doing our normal routine. Here mom brought home a big piece of cardboard for the kids to draw on.

Austin helps himself to fruit often.

The boys have access to an awesome swing set in the backyard. Mom and Dad's is a fun place.

The boys and I have been to this park several times. Here my big guy is enjoying a picnic.

I snapped a picture of all three of them (in the same place). See how Austin thinks he's one of the big kids.

Hannah invited the boys over to her house for a sleepover. They did cool things like this. A masking tape race car track. The guys had an awesome time.

Dad needed some pictures of pregnant women for a video at church to show the need for workers in the nursery. This picture was taken two days before the baby was born.

Next post: Baby is here!

The way it's been

I am so far behind in recording our major life events that I'm going to have to update you in a series of posts.

I'll start off with saying that the last nine months were some of the most physically challenging I can remember. I was sicker with this last baby than all the others. More extreme morning sickness --the scented trash bags made me want to throw up. Mike making coffee did make me throw up. On the good days I would roll out of bed, walk to the kitchen, lie over on the counter resting my head in my hands and rest for a few seconds before summoning the strength to do what I had to in that room.

Amazingly enough my boys all made it through. The next couple months were good. And God provided (as He always does) with my sister, Chrissy, moving in with Mike and I. She attended college in Abilene while living with us. We had told her for years she was always welcome to come live with us where ever we were and do college in that town. She came and was a huge help to me and Mike. We thoroughly enjoyed her presence and involvement in our little family.

December arrived too quickly for me. I spent as much time as I could afford being with the women who had walked with my through the last four years --four years that I wouldn't trade for the moon. Those years were filled with adjusting to military life, deployments, TDYs, having children (plural), surviving a two-year-old. I learned so much about how to be a wife, a mother, a daughter to our Heavenly Father, a teacher. I learned how to make friends, how to make coffee, how to be not so obnoxious. I spent countless hours with a cup of coffee in front of me either receiving council or discussing with my peers different ways to reach a child's rebellious heart. I would listen to women build up their husbands and would learn how to be a submissive wife with words of praise on her tongue instead of a judgemental untrusting woman.

I wouldn't trade these four hard years. I definitely feel that God took us to Abilene for me to learn. --I think I've said that on here before... sorry....

So December we left Abilene.

For the last two months the boys and I have been living in Greenville with my gracious hospitable parents and two youngest sisters. I can't believe they haven't asked us to move --or moved out themselves. I had hoped that we would be able to be a blessing to them by having dinner on the stove and the house clean when they got home from work each day. It hasn't exactly worked out that way. The house has never been clean for them. Dinner on the stove... maybe once or twice a week. I just haven't felt very good physically since I've been here. The last month and a half of the pregnancy were hard. Today, a week and a day since baby #4 was born, I'm beginning to feel strength return. However, most all of that is spent trying to take care of four small people. It seems with each new child I have to re-learn how to do life. How many does it take till you get it down and daily life becomes a perfected form of art? 19? If so, I doubt we'll ever get there ;-)

Tonight, after sending the wild boys to bed, I asked if the grown-ups at home would watch the baby while I escaped. They were more than willing, as always.

But now, Starbucks is closing on me. I promise the next post will provide more humor and less information. For records sake I needed to recap the last months. Stay tuned, maybe this blog will get funny again. I think it will.

Family Christmas Picture

Merry Christmas to you!

Due to several mediocre reasons, you will not be getting a Christmas card from me. Well, 20 of you will. I didn't really like the options for backgrounds at one photo card website and that happened to be the place I had some credit for free prints. So I ordered 20 and planned to go to another site to get more. I never did.



The new plan is to send you a family picture with a baby announcement included.



So merry Christmas and I look forward to hearing from you even though I can't return the favor for a few more months. We will be receiving mail at my parents address for the next few months. Let me know if you want the address :-)

It's time.

Four and a half years in Abilene. It's over now. At the drop party during Mike's training in San Antonio it was revealed what airframe Mike would be working on and at which base he would start out.

I can remember it clear as day: "C-130's to Dyess!" That was the announcement.

My heart sank at exactly the same moment my jaw dropped. Seriously? C-130s? A plane we were avoiding because of the strenuous deployment cycles. Abilene? What do you even do at that place besides watch the tumbleweeds roll and watch your step for rattlesnake?

We had a tiny bit of faith that God was in this decision and our fate did not depend on some commander who was giving Mike less than he deserved.

We went.

It was either that or get court marshaled.

Now we have been here four and a half years and it is time to PCS.

PCS --Permanent Change of Station.

I hate that word permanent.

At least I hate it now that my heart belongs and loves this dusty hot town.

For the last few months I have known it was coming, but I refuse to live in the future. I knew we were leaving, but I didn't embrace it in my mind. Today however, I must. I must put all my attention and energy toward leaving.

Yesterday at church the boys had to say goodbye to Ashten. ...wow. Typing that made my eyesight blurry. Ashten has been their second mom. Now I can't see at all. Great. Where do we keep the tissue? Ashten (I don't think she even knows this) is listed as the emergency contact at all kinds of places in case there is an emergency and they can't get ahold of me. Probably you should inform your emergency contact that they are the emergency contact, that way they will be ready to step in if you need them. There is really no point in telling Ashten. I know she would (because she has) drop everything to help me out. She took the day off of work when I went into labor. I called her and my mother at 6:00 to tell them we were at the hospital. She and her husband have spent holidays with my extended family.

Every military wife needs someone who can and will drop everything when you need her. What will I do in Arkansas without her?

And it's not just her.

I've got about...5 REALLY GOOD friends. Then about another hundred good friends. These people have taken care of my family, prayed over me, encouraged me, fed me, fed my messy children, mowed my yard, drank coffee with me, shoveled my entire huge driveway when it came a blizzard and many other things.

I've got an arsenal full of older women who have taught me and counseled me.

Now I will be far away from them.

It's hard to think about this. It's overwhelming to think what I'll do on my own. I rely on these people!

It's been hard to breath. I thought it was because I was anxious and not trusting God. Then I was reading last night on my pregnancy app on my phone it said: "...your growing uterus has compressed your lungs, limiting their ability to fully expand when you take a breath and causing you to feel like you've just run a marathon when you've only climbed a flight of stairs."

I think maybe it's both.

The thought of bouncing around for the next few months, Mike being away from us, a baby being born, a house being built and the overseeing mama having about 30% of the energy I normally have... it makes breathing hard.

I can't do this. I can do a lot of stuff. I'm a military wife. We are amazing ;-)
But... this is too much.

Last night I read to the boys a chapter of the book we are going through: "Behold the Lamb of God." I will wait till another post to tell you how awesome I think this book is. If you are familiar with the Jesus storybook Bible, this is a bigger kid/adult version of that book. Yes, I am reading it to my 3 and 5 year-olds. It is a bit of a struggle for them to understand, but things they are gleaning are worth it.

So I am reading this chapter. It is about when the Israelites were about to enter the promised land. Spies were sent in to check out the place. They came back and reported of it's bounty and it's HUGE strong people living in the land. The odds were against them being able to conquer the land. It was impossible. They couldn't do it.

The people responded to this report by being afraid and whining "We should have just stayed in Egypt to die." They did not want to enter. They didn't believe that God would fight for them. So... He didn't.

Despite the miracles of Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea, the miraculous provision of manna and water, the visual reminder of a pillar of cloud and a pillar of fire... these people didn't believe that God could be trusted to prepare the way.

So he didn't.

He turned them around and had them wander in the desert for the next 40 years where every one of the "faithless generation" died.

I paused my reading in mid paragraph.

This is me. Or at least it could be. Things are heading that way.

I stand on the edge of the promised land (or... maybe just Arkansas) and I freeze up, struggle to breathe.

God who has taken a place like Abilene and taught me, provided for me, matured me, loved me, listened to me, helped me... and I think this God won't take care of the difficulties of this move.

I'm so dumb.

He's so faithful.

I'm so glad.

Bottoms: Why do we have 'em? Really?

Ty has a bad habit going. It's arguing. He argues about whether or not he is arguing. It's bad. We are trying to figure out different ways to help him have victory over this sin. Today however, the result of arguing was a couple swats on his hind quarters.

I tell him: "Turn around Ty, so I can spank your bottom. That's where you get a spanking. Bottoms are for spanking."

Ty: "No Mom..."

(See, I told you he had a problem.)

"...bottoms are not for spanking. Bottoms are for poo-pooing."

Tape

Dear Mom,

I can't wait till the boys get that roll of scotch tape in their stocking from you. I'm interested to see what other creative uses they can find for a role of tape.

-Becca

Things I never thought I'd hear myself say

"No Ty! Jack does not want to see your poo-poo."



That was Mike responding to the question:

"Jaaaaaccckkkk! Do you want to come see my poooooo- pooooooo!"

Which was yelled while sitting on the toilet.

Little boys

I couldn't trade 'em. They are sweet, rough, gross and adorable.

Ty:



Our little exterminator. He is always calling out in alarm when he sees an insect in the house. He's not scared, mind you, he just wants me to know there is an emergency situation and he's going to take care of it. Here he is bringing me a spider he killed. He told me one of it's legs came off. And he brought it for proof. The dried blood in his nose is not from the insect battle. Just further proof that this child is rough and tumble.


Austin:

AKA: the wicked witch of the west. Dorthy's been here, the red shoes are missing. We all know I would NEVER let my child out of the house in sock feet. Some of you may be asking why was I getting out my camera when the child has been run over by a car??? You don't know me well then do you? Now calm down, he was fine. I'm not sure how he got himself into this predicament. This isn't even our house, it's the neighbors flowerbed.

See. He was fine. I'll even say he enjoyed it. Sorry about your plants Julie!


Jack:

Jack and Ty are both pictured sitting in the chairs, but I'm giving credit to Jack for the idea. I had informed him that we were having guests over in about an hour. He was ready and waiting (and comfortable) to greet them.

This is when I went out and told them there had been a change in plans and the friends weren't coming over.

"Not cool Mom, not cool."

I is smart.

Awesome. Just awesome.

No wonder no one else would let you interview them for the story.

Most moms have more since then me. "Oh, ok, sure. I'll do it."

Little did I know "We will edit this" meant: "We'll shorten the clip, but make sure we leave in anything you might say that makes you sound like an idiot."

http://weareaustin.com/search-fulltext?nxd_id=191667

Thanks. Thanks for that.

After getting in the car to leave, I tell Mike: "I think I made up a word during my interview. Surely they'll take it out."

Never assume... never assume.

How did he do it?

Twenty-four.

Twenty-four grandchildren.

Every one of them present at your funeral, minus two. One overseas serving as a missionary, the other hundreds of miles away serving in the navy. Both expressing how badly they wanted to be home --for you.

We came from miles around, took off work, drove through the night, bought expensive tickets, even flew in our families, made impossible things happen so we could be there.

It looked like a small army, the family section at the funeral. Most had their children beside them. And what a crowd was there! I thought the receiving line would never end. I've never seen such a turnout for a 90-year-old's funeral. It shows you didn't stop making sure people felt loved, even in your last years.

So many people. So many coming up and telling us how special you were. I heard things like: "He was such a gentleman." "He will be missed." He was so gentle and kind." "He was the same man wherever he went." I'd choke back the tears and try to leave the conversation before I needed a professional cosmetologist to get the mascara stains off of my face.

But... there a lots of gentle, kind, loving people who die every day who evoke this response out of people.

I really can't get over the fact that every grandchild possible --and their spouses were present. Is this normal? And it's not like we just felt like we needed to be there for our mothers. We could not miss it.

We couldn't.

And for the last little while I've been trying to figure out why.

Was it that we always felt so special around him?
Was it his dignity we admired?
Was it how he loved his family?
Was it how he served his church?
How he never complained --and yet, in his last few years, tried to be honest when we asked him how he was feeling?
Was it his wise counsel?

I want to know.

I want to know so that I can direct my boys in his steps.

This wasn't just a "sweet grandpa."

This was a man that was described by someone who had known him for years as:

"Nobody's perfect right? ["Right."] "But Weldon, he was perfect. Not a flaw. Not a flaw."