Toad Suck Daze

Why?

 

Well because we live in Arkansas of course.

 

What else would we be doing on the first weekend in May other than walking the streets of Conway while wearing frogs --I mean toads on our heads?

 

Also, because Hannah came to visit.  And she's a SUCKER for fairs or festivals.  She's actually the reason we went out in the 40 degree weather --in the rain.  I'd of called it off, but not her.  She drove five hours to come see us.  I'll walk around in the rain with my children till she no longer thinks it's an awesome idea.

 

Notice the train not twenty feet behind us?  It was moving.  Only in Arkansas would they plan an festival around a buzzing train line.  Whatever. It's cool.

The tall green fellow trying to strangle Hannah was not with our party.  He just jumped in for the photo.  Kind of creepy.  We didn't linger.

As you can see it stopped raining.  Austin poses next to the fish tank on wheels (again, only in Arkansas).  Oh and it's camo.

Jack chose the rock wall as his one ride.  I was so proud of his choice.  He climbed up it twice, but got stuck on this ledge.  He told me tonight as we were looking at this picture, that his bravery just comes and goes.  Never know which one it's going to be.  I nodded and told him I understood what he was saying.

What's a festival without a fire truck to climb on?

 

I was equally excited about Ty and Austin's much cheaper choice of attraction. Bumper boats! How fun is that? I want to get on eBay right now and buy me for of them. Only we don't have a lake. I'm hoping maybe Phillip and Leslie will get some? (hint hint?)

Look how eagerly Austin is stepping up to the boat.  I think the guy who was helping him (bless his heart for those cold feet and legs!) was afraid he was going to walk right in the pool.

This was Brady's ride.  woo woo!  It spun around, went backwards and forwards and even splashed a little water up every now and then.  He wins for cheapest attraction.

 

The boys wanted to participate in the toad races.  Hat's off to Conway for making this so much fun for the kids.  The festival provided toads to any kids who wanted to race.  Simply stand in line, put on your free awesome headgear, get your toad then wait till your heat to race. 

 

Jack meeting "Spurs" for the first time.  (It was recommended that you name your toad.)  I asked him if he named it after the basketball team in San Antonio.  He said, "No.  I named him after the spur on the rooster's foot."  Creative.  I guess that's what reading Hank the Cowdog will do to you. 

Ty named his "Speed Racer."  Fitting.

 

 See us on the front row?  We sat through 4 heats in order to see the big kids race.  Austin was pretty interested.  Brady was dying to walk in the puddles.  He was also overly tired from his missed nap.

Here we are again.  The moment we've all been waiting for.

 

If you can zoom in on this picture, do it.  It pretty much sums up the event:  The announcer guy stopping at every kid, getting the child's name and his toad's name;  Jack and Ty excited about the race; Austin chewing on the rope boundary; Brady throwing a fit in my arms; Me ignoring Brady while giving the other boys the "I'm proud of you" thumbs up; oh and Hannah documenting our lives.  (we love her) 

 

And they're off!

Jack's toad wasn't too excited about the race.  I think he'd had quite a few races already that day.  Jack was busted by this photo evidence of him throwing the toad down toward the finish line.

 

And is this not the most adorable picture you've ever seen?  They loved the event.  They loved the whole day.  This must be why Hannah insists we go to festivals in blizzard-like conditions.   



Brady at 15 months

I know a lot of you are wondering how an innocent little baby adjusts from life inside the womb, all warm and cozy and quiet to... well...

Us.

This was taken during Brady's first week of life.  I wondered then if he was already questioning God:  "Why me!  Why!  Why here?  With them?  Do you have any idea how loud it is in this place?  Look!  That one-year-old is jumping off the edge of the couch!  Get me out of here!"

After more than a year of observation, I'd like to report, regardless of Brady's first impressions of the Ellis family, he has adopted the "If you can't beat 'em join 'em" mentality.

The last month Brady has just come alive.  We have gone from having a baby to a toddler.

He has 8 teeth  --make that 12.  Between the writing and press time we have broken in four more molars (It's been super fun around here folks).

Brady started walking right around 14 months.

He now has a big boy haircut.

He jabbers a lot, I think he does it cause he's been feeling like he wasn't pulling his weight when it comes to keeping the decibel level up.

He's started getting mad when we don't understand what he wants.  The good news for him is that he can now communicate (decently) when he wants a drink of water.  That's always the point in my kid's lives when I feel they are going to make it.  When they don't have to rely solely on the hope that I will remember to give them a drink at some point during the day.  

He can say the names of all his family.  Favorite names are Daddy and Austie.  Once or twice he's said, "cracker" --I think he was referring to the food.

No problem ascending and descending the stairs.  He had that down months ago.

Favorite foods are fruit, cheese, tomatoes, avocado, soups, barbecue...  (He loves pork barbecue.  I've got to remind him he's from Texas, and make sure I never give him any sweet bbq sauce)

Finally, this child, more than any of my other kids, LOVES to climb.  He loves to dig into drawers and cabinets.  It's not unusual for me to see him walking around with a plastic pitcher from the kitchen or tweezers or nail clippers he's swiped from the top drawer in the bathroom.  He seems to have no fear.  Mike made a comment under his breath yesterday, something about me and paying for my raising.  I have no idea what he's talking about.

 

When I found Brady he was standing on the top of the stool holding onto the canned goods shelf.  He looked worried.  I'm not sure if he was upset that he couldn't find his favorite vegetable or if he was scared of the height and the fact that there was no safe way down other than Mom helping him.

 

 



 

He offered me some of his yogurt.  Well, it was actually Ty's yogurt that got left on the table. 

Waste not, want not.

 



 

Practicing his flying with Mr. D

 



 

We went to Faith's (our babysitter) track meet.  Everyone loved it.  When Faith was done with her event she stayed with us while we watched other athletes compete.

 

So yes, Brady has not only survived, but has joined the ranks of fun, loud curious boys.  We are enjoying him much.

 

 

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

Austin's favorite part of our camping trip --hands down, was the waterfall.  Even before this trip he's been obsessed with waterfalls. Everything is a waterfall to Austin, especially peeing   Petit Jean has a pretty impressive waterfall you can hike down to or view from an observation deck.  I chose the observation deck as it was handicap accessible.  Austin couldn't get enough of it.  On day two he asked me over and over again if we could go see the waterfall.

 

I promised him we will go back to see the waterfall again even though it was inconvenient at the time. (Never forget this ok Austin?)   It was clear that this was important to him.  As soon as we got out of the van, Austin was raring to go.  I told him he could go a little ways ahead as long as he would stop when I yelled to him.   I figured if he got too far away and wouldn't stop I'd just send Jack down to tackle him. Jack can catch him. He's fast.

 

We were super slow going down the path since Brady wanted to walk. Austin had a walking stick ($9.99 at the lodge) we bought for Ty. Whenever anyone came up to us and was about to pass us on the path, Austin held the stick, posed and gave them the bravest, most daring face he could muster. (I was afraid.)   He did the same thing even before he got the stick, only he laid on the ground with his arms and legs spread wide and held them up off the ground, looking daringly into the eyes of whomever considered passing.  He was as still as a statue till the hikers had all shuffled past.    Reminded me of the part from Lord of the Rings where Gandolph yells "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!!" I wished Austin had seen the movie so he then could have quoted it right then.

 

Camping

My husband is good about giving me breaks.  While he is in training he has insisted that I hire a sitter to watch my boys at least twice a week so I get a little free time.  He has also been known to give me weekends to myself.  I come home refreshed, rested, in a happier mood and better able to serve my family.  Mike's foresight in this area is probably the reason I am not sitting on the floor in the corner of my room rocking back and forth.

The last two or three weeks have been hard around here.  I think we are all getting tired of having dad gone.  Spring has arrived and with it lots of yard work.  I've had to work double time to keep up with the weeds and garden in addition to the house.  More work for mom means less time paying attention to the children. 

"Go outside and play boys." 
"I can't help you right now, I'm busy."
"Watch your little brother."

How many times have I said those things in the last few weeks?  Lots.

The boys have gotten the leftovers.  I've given them what little was left after the work was done.

Maybe it was the lack of mothering that's been taking place, or maybe they were rebelling against my busyness, but whatever the cause there has been a pretty significant disregard for one another going on here.

The boys weren't doing a good job listening to instructions and didn't really care.  They'd half-heartedly obey (or not) till I got so fed up that I'd yell at them and threaten them with an unpleasant consequence.

They were tired of obeying.  I was tired of making them.  We all went to bed, not with full content hearts but tired ones.  Glad the day was finally over and we were one step closer to Mike coming home.

Not a fun existence.

Tuesday morning.  54 degrees.  I put on my warm socks, pants, fleece and scarf (and was still chilly) before I went outside to my lounge chair for the first outdoor quiet time of the season.  I had coffee with the Lord while my ipod blasted people singing songs of praise to Him.  This is sometimes how I spend the harder days.  Just sitting there with my coffee, usually I'm not in the mood to read the Bible, and often I don't want to talk to God about what's going on.  I just want to sit.

 "I'm here Lord.  I know I've been lacking in patience and love with my children.  I know I could be doing this better.  But I'm not.  And I don't feel like talking about it."

So I just sit.

He sits with me.

My mind fires off constantly.  I've trained it to handle (handle haha! if you read my last post) all the irons in the fire, so times of sitting still and focusing on the music are a battle for my mind.   The focus takes work.  It's work to relax.  By definition I don't think that's possible, but by experience I'll tell you it is.

As I sit there with the Lord, among all the other things that come and go into my brain I have the thought:  "We should go camping."

Camping.

Hahahahahha!!  No really.  That's a good one.  I laugh at myself for coming up with something like that.  I may have some crazy ideas, but this one takes the cake.

I dismiss it and move on.  But the thought keeps creeping back into my head.

Camping?

Well.  Why?  "Why Becca would you want to take 4 wild boys camping?" I ask myself.  (I always ask myself questions in third person,  I've found I take myself more seriously that way and usually end up with a more professional response.)

Well why?

I talk through my answer in my head:

Because I want to give my poor children a break from me.  Except I can't give them a break from me.  I have to be with them.  But maybe I can be with them in a place where I will have the freedom to be more like a friend and less like an evil dictator. 

Because sometimes we all need a break --even little boys.

Because Mike gives me retreats when I'm tired and frustrated and wanting to run away.

Because boys need to be boys sometimes.  They need to run and hoot and jump and tackle and do dangerous awesome things.

Because I'm tired of saying: "Don't talk with your mouth full of food."  "Sit up straight."  "Take off your shoes AND put them away before coming in the house."  "Go clean that up."  "Stop being so rough."

Because... we need it.

As I thought about the idea throughout the day, I prayed and ask God if the camping idea was from him.  "If this is a bad idea, don't let me do it."

I asked a few of my friends who are in the thick of kid-raising what they thought of my idea.  I told them why I felt it would be beneficial.  They listened and agreed that maybe I could pull it off.  If I followed my plan which was to find a pre-made camp site and show up with food prepared and ready to heat and eat.  Or just eat.  They told me they thought it could help the boys relax and maybe we would remember how much we like each other and that we DO like to have fun.

First thing the next morning, as I sat in my chair drinking my coffee, I looked up and said:  "God, I know this is asking a lot... but please help everyone obey well on this trip.  Please help everyone be nice and please, let this be fun."

We needed some fun.  Laughter.  Smiles.  Joy.

Next morning we headed out at 10 o'clock. We arrived at our camp excited and with hope already being restored.

 

 

The yurt we rented had three sets of bunk beds, came with an ice chest, gas grill and a canoe!

It was perfect.

 

Top bunks for everyone!



Yes, I brought the high chair --smartest move of the whole trip.  It was worth the space it took up in the van.

This trip was perfect.  It was just what we needed.  We ran.  We jumped off of big rocks.  We played hide 'n seek behind trees.  We flew a kite.  We hiked to a waterfall.  We roasted marshmallows.  We found awesome sticks.  We hung precariously over the railing on a pier.  We canoed.  We drank Shastas.  We talked to the retired folks (only other people camping during the school year in the middle of the week.)  We went inside a cave.  We played TONS of "Go Fish".  We learned how to play War and Crazy 8's.  We jumped over creeks.  We missed.  Ok, so that was me.  I missed the stepping stone while crossing the creek, but in my defense I was pushing a giant stroller and couldn't see exactly where it was.  We ate so much junk food.

I wanted to be able to say, "Sure!" when the boys asked me for things, so as much as possible I did.  I said "Yes" to cokes, whole candy bars that were intended for the s'mores.  Yes to crackers, apples, cheese sticks, hikes, capri suns, boat rides and glow sticks and staying up late.

Austin did so well.  He listened AND obeyed.  whoa.  He followed the rules and kept his underwear clean.  The rest of the kids did well too, but Austin was the one I noticed the most improvment in.

God did help those boys be good.  Sure as the sun rose that day.  He blessed our trip.  Just look at these photos and tell me our gracious Lord didn't have something to do with this:

 

  

We made it the whole trip and got twenty minutes from home before someone threw up.   haha!  Welcome back to reality!  Back we are, but we've returned renewed and ready to take on whatever comes next. --which will, I'm sure be washing the carseat cover.

Whew.

Call me butter cause I'm on a roll!

Today I went to the microwave and set the timer for thirty minutes.  Except that I didn't push the timer button, I pushed the "cook time" button.  It was down to 23 minutes when I walked back by.  I stopped the cooking and when I did, the thing lost power.  Thankfully it came back on after a little while.  Whew.

A week ago I was working in a flower bed, about to break for a moment, when I thrust my pitchfork down into the soft earth beside me.  Except that I forgot where I keep my feet and instead of stabbing the earth slammed the fork down onto my foot.  It went through the rubber boot but only left a small cut on my skin.  Initially I thought I'd broken my foot.  I was relieved to find I could still walk.  Whew.

Sunday I lost my phone.  I looked everywhere.  Except behind the pillow (the round one the boys use as a Frisbee) on the chair you would never expect could hide a phone.  Monday morning I found it.  Whew.

Ten o'clock yesterday morning, after dentist appointments (at which all the kids were declared cavity free.  I'll take a pat on the back thank you.) I pulled into the driveway, looked out across the lawn and thought I really should do some yard work before the storm hits.  The internet said it could start raining as early as noon, so I needed to hurry.  In the 7 seconds it took to cruise from my mailbox to the house my mind voluntarily ran through 8 or 10 things I needed to accomplish in the next two hours.  Besides that, it was time for Brady to nap.  What better time to get things done.

First thing was to put the sleepy child in bed.  I lay him down then jog back down the stairs.  Coming down into the kitchen I look at the sink and think, "I've got to get that chicken out of the freezer.  Otherwise no dinner."  I stop up the sink, turn on the water and set the two packages of chicken breast down into the water.  While standing at the sink, I turn and see Austin.  Austin, the two-year-old underwearing little boy who has stayed dry for 4 hours. (We had a pretty major setback in our potty training after a super fun visit to the grandparents so I was proud of 4 hours.) 

"Austin, let's go potty.  Hurry to the bathroom."  It seemed like a good idea to use the time while the sink was filling up with water to take Austin potty.  Efficient.  I like to be efficient.  It doesn't take but a moment to pull down his drawers and lift him to the seat.

Maybe I need some medication, maybe I just need to take on less, but by the time I took 5 steps toward the bathroom, the last thing on my mind was the water running in the kitchen sink.

I got Austin fixed up then turned toward the front door and walked outside. 

Outside!  I love being outside.  I was looking forward to getting the riding mower running (it hadn't been started in a couple months) and the battery had died.  Dad told me how to jump it off with the van so that was my plan.  I push it out of the garage, jump it off, let it run for... at least 5 minutes, drive around to the front where I was going to hook up the cart full of yard debris and haul it to the woods.  The mower died when I got off of it (why do they make them do this???)  I tried to start it back up but the battery wasn't strong enough yet.  Sigh...  I push the thing back over to the van, pull out the jumper cables, jump it off again.  This time I left it running while I walked a few feet away to the flower bed to pull weeds while waiting.  I made sure to keep myself between the running mower and the children. 

A couple minutes later Ty runs out to me:  "Mom!  .... water.... I turned it off.... everywhere..."
I couldn't really hear him cause of my bad hearing and the fact that the mower was running behind me.

"OK Ty, thanks."  I say.

He stands there a second then turns around and walks off. I go back to my weeds.

Pulling weeds, pulling weeds, wow they come up so fast don't they... I think about which bed I'm going to put the mulch in, how I should plan on tackling the unwelcome monkey grass I have sprouting up everywhere...

Ty walks back up, interrupting my thoughts and says: "Mom, the water is still all over the floor and it's spreading out everywhere."

Guess what scene flashes back into my mind.

"Ah!"  I gasp.  "The kitchen!"

I jump up, turn off the mower (thank goodness I have some sense left), and run into the house.

Water.

I see it as soon as I open the door.  Apparently the floor slopes down toward the garage.  I grab towels and soak up the water running along the baseboard and into the laundry room.  The next 10 minutes are kind of blurry in my memory. However, I do remember that I sprang to action.  I threw down towels, dried up what I could see than began investigating where the rest of the water could be.  I pull out the stove.  I walk outside.  I look in the laundry room and under the water heater. 

Then it began to sink it.  I sat on a step stool in the kitchen, rested my chin on my fist and thought: "I've ruined my house.  We are going to have to find a new place to live.  This water, the water that was pouring out of the sink for 15-20 minutes is somewhere, probably under the cabinets pooling, waiting to grow mold and ruin drywall."  I felt myself sinking.  My confidence was taking a nose dive.  I was like the book "The Little Engine that Could" read backwards.  I had started off with: "I thought I could" moved down to "I think I can" to "I'll never get to the good little boys and girl on the other side of the mountain."  Haven't read the book?  Oh nevermind then.

Not knowing what to do, I called mom.  She gave me hope and calmed me down a little.

I texted 7 friends who live relatively close asking them if any had fans I could borrow to dry out my kitchen. 

Immediately I got a couple responses.  Two offered to bring fans over.

Corrie arrived first.  I was still not sure what else to do at this point.  So when she walked in I was standing there in the kitchen just looking.  I told her what had happened.  We talked about what to do next.  She said she was sorry this happened then asked if there was anything else I needed.  "A husband,"  I said, half-jokingly.  Then the tears came.  I stood there and cried while Corrie hugged me. 

I felt momentarily defeated.  I felt tired.  I'd been working hard for three months to keep things together around here while Mike was away with the air force.  Honestly I thought I'd been doing pretty well.  We'd held up fine, the children seemed happy, I was content in my role and God had been giving me strength to do the work that had to be done.

Through this military wife gig I've learned that when you have something tough in front of you, you just take a deep breath and do it.  People have told me, "I don't know how you do it when your husband deploys."  Well, you just do it.  I always respond with, you'd just do it too if you had to.  I can't describe it better than putting on your game face.  There's no place for weakness and failure isn't an option.  You get up and do. 

But then, in the midst of the deployment, there never fails to be moments like this.  Moments when you feel like you've failed and the persona you put on in order to survive deflates like a balloon.  So you cry --sometimes for a long time.

Then you blow your nose and you feel better.  You get up and again begin to do.  At least this is how it always goes for me.  Maybe it's not like this for everybody.  Resolve is one thing, but how far does that take you?

I think it's my Jesus that is picking me back up.

It's when I am at my weakest that He reminds me He is near.  He whispers, "It's ok."  He holds me while I cry.  He so gently shows me He loves me.  He reminds me, "I'm your strength."

He does it every time.  He did it yesterday.

Yesterday He used his Church.

I got texts or phone calls from each person I messaged.  Two dropped everything to come help.  Three told me they were praying.  Two called and asked what more I needed.  One cooked my family dinner.  Corrie even let me borrow her husband.

I felt loved.

That evening, as the fans blew the cabinets, I sat on the couch and with great joy in my heart, praised the Lord for his goodness to me.  I thanked him for his provision.  I thanked him for an understanding husband who cared more about my well being than his house I almost ruined. I thanked him for his church and what a gift it is to those who follow him.  I thanked him for Ty (who discovered the water). 

I did something foolish yesterday, but God (as He always does) took the opportunity to flood me with his mercy (pun intended).   

Whew.
 

My new mechanic



 

I'm not sure who is prouder, Ty or me.  The light bulb went out in one of the headlights on the van.  Mike noticed it so today we went to an auto shop where be bought a new one.  I told Ty he was going to install it.  And he did.  All he needed was a rubber glove and a screw driver.

 

Hoping I'll have a mechanic on hand VERY soon.  We took the pictures to show Big Dad and Pop  --thought they'd be pretty proud.

  

 

 

It works!