Kiss Her Today Like It's Your Last Kiss

Some time ago, when I moved from the night shift to a normal office hour schedule, my wife and I started something that I hope never ends. Each morning as I leave, no matter how late I may be, she's getting a big wet kiss on the cheek. 

I hope she gets to wake up to that in the morning. She should wake up to my love. Sure sometime she wakes up to "I can't find my wallet" etc etc, or me dropping half our stuff in the bathroom fumbling around half dead at 5:30am. But I always hope she stays asleep just long enough so when I go to leave she wakes up to my kiss goodbye and me telling her I love her.

Last year, in the dead of winter, it was a risky driving morning. Thankfully I can usually get out on to the road and get going without a problem. But this was a glistening icy-coated morning. I went to rush out the door and get moving so I could get to work as less-late as possible. As I got about halfway down the stairs I remembered that I hadn't kissed her goodbye. And it occurred to me, what if my drive didn't go well and I were to have an accident? What if I never got the chance to kiss her goodbye again? I slowly walked up the stairs and leaned across the bed to give her a long sweet kiss. She smiled and I went on with the day.

"Tomorrow" is something we take so for granted. For those of us that believe in eternal life in Christ and expect to live forever with God, I think we even more so may be taking tomorrow for granted, since it is - granted. But tomorrow here on earth is something hoped for but not guaranteed.

"Next time" is something we often expect will happen. We are such frail and temporary creatures, and yet we live like we control destiny, chance, and circumstances. We don't. We have today. 

When the triplets were born they were so small. They were just in and around four pounds each. Thankfully, they were very above average in health, really problem-free. Thank God for answering ours and many other folks' prayers during the circumstances of life we experienced in those days. 

One thing the triplets did need was drops of vitamins every day - I think it was twice a day. If I remember correctly it was something to do with strengthening their lungs - which let me say - that stuff really worked. Especially for Eve. Wow. Definitely no long term problem for these girls with lung strength! 

Just a couple days after they were home we gave Prayer her vitamins from the little tiny eye-dropper thingy, and they went down the "wrong tube". She choked them up and coughed and coughed and gagged. I thought we had just drowned the kid. Then she just didn't breathe. Not freaking out or choking anymore, just seemed like she was sleeping and very lazy breathing. Very similar to how they were after they were born and the nurses would rub them to make them cry and breathe to dry out their lungs. Every once in a while she would take a gasp as she lay on her belly and slept. Then a few seconds. Then another breath. Scary for me. So scary, I couldn't sleep. That whole night I lay awake and I was Prayer's bed, as she slept, breathing awkwardly on my chest with her little fuzzy head just under my chin. I kissed her head and thought, "What if this is the last night I hold this baby?" 

I guess you know she turned out okay, other than the suspected brain damage thing. 

(Please excuse the nudity but this is a picture of that next morning)

Probably I was overreacting a little. I do that once in a while when it comes to potential dangers, germs, boys looking at my daughters, my daughters looking at boys, multiple instruments and conversations happening in the same room at high volume at the same time, slow drivers, and, of course, insects in my face. For more information on these and other of my flaws, please feel free to ask my teenage daughters. Expect eyes to roll before each corresponding response to the above list. 

I was at work a few weeks ago and one of my favourite workmates reminded me that he and his partner were expecting their first child in less than a month. I may be completely useless at most things, but when it comes to preparing to have babies, I've got a few pointers to pass along. Later that day, I heard him speaking about this conference, and that meeting, and a really busy work schedule for the coming month. I took him aside and I was very direct with him just one-on-one as I said, "Let me clock out for a minute and speak to you as a friend. I am very blessed to have had 9 children, and I hope you are blessed to have as many as you may decide. However, if circumstances dictate that this is your only child you ever have and you miss the first few weeks of your child's life for the slight difference it may mean at a company, you will hate yourself. That would be a tough decision when you realize how unimaginably fast each of those first and most delicate stages pass. If I were you, and when I was, I did put family ahead of work. There is always more work." 

We look at life as though all that we planned and prepared to do will happen, and nothing we expect to avoid would ever happen. But the truth of life is that you have absolutely no idea what may happen, so be who you should be, with who you should be, today. 

Tonight, my wife and I will slip out before our church event and we will go alone for dinner and have some time to chat and focus on each other. We've always done that, at least once a month; a lot- a lot of dates, making memories together, in case they are someday soon only memories. 

You don't know if you'll have tomorrow. So kiss her today like it's your last kiss. And kiss her like that for the rest of your life.

Happy Father's Day

Sometimes We Argue…

A few weeks ago, Scott and I had a little argument. Actually, it wasn’t even an argument. It went something like this…

I was on the phone with a client in my living room (my first mistake- ha!) and he interrupted my conversation to tell me not to book anything on the date we were discussing. I hand-motioned for him to be quiet and he got louder… (turns out he had a surprise 30th birthday party planned for me that day- but I thought we were just going out for a few hours that afternoon) Anyhow, then my phone call got cut off and a kid walked in and started asking for food over and over again while I basically told Scott off for interrupting a business call like one of the kids. (Harsh and uncalled for, I know…) My phone rang again and I picked it up while he got his stuff ready and had to leave for work. I booked the session for another day, hung up the phone, and turned to see Ella sitting there beside me. She had been there the entire time. She smiled sweetly and asked to use my phone to play Temple Run. I took a moment and realized that Scott had left for work. I felt horrible for the way I had reacted and told Ella that I had to call Dad first to apologize for being mean to him. She very matter-of-factly looked at me and said, “But he was rude to you when you were on the phone first.” I explained to her that it didn’t matter if he was rude first, or if he was rude at all- but that it was wrong of me to talk to him like that and I owed him an apology. She patiently sat beside me while I called him and apologized (he was understanding and forgiving- as usual) and when I hung up she said, “Can I play on your phone now that you said sorry to Dad?”

2007

We have a great marriage. One of the best. (I think!) But we aren’t perfect. We don’t always agree. We argue from time to time. Actually, we are both really good at it. Arguing that is… We get loud every once in a while – but we know how to forgive. I’ve heard people say that you shouldn’t argue in front of your kids, and I wonder how realistic that is.

I’ve realized how important it is for them to see grace. To see that mom and dad aren’t perfect, (like they didn’t already know that!) that we humble ourselves to apologize when we’re wrong, and that we show one another grace. One of their favourite “remember the time!” stories is when Scott and I had gotten into an argument about something, and he left the house and came back with flowers and a movie. “And we all had a fun night after that!”

They saw his works.

2008

They were too young to comprehend why we were fighting, the need to apologize, or the concept of grace at the time – but they saw, and remember, his works. It was such a small event. Half an hour on a Friday night, that they still remember and smile about 6 years later. We don’t hold grudges. We don’t get bitter. We may be a little blunt sometimes. Ok… most of the time… but I wonder if the presence of grace isn’t what makes our marriage so strong.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard my kids argue or fight. (Today! Ha…) But seriously, I also can’t count the number of times I’ve sat back and watched one go up to another and say, “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Met with a, “That’s OK. I shouldn’t have… either.”

Relationship restored.

Is that a natural response? It isn’t for me! I hate apologizing. Especially when I think I’m right! I’ve been known to say, “I’m sorry that YOU felt I was wrong…” To which Scott usually laughs and then I give in with a real apology. I don’t know if it comes naturally to anyone, but I do know that once you’ve experienced God’s grace in your own life- you have no right not to show it to others.

We were driving to church one day when the triplets were babies and I was really mad at someone. Scott asked me if I was going to do something for them (I can’t even remember what it was or why I was mad) and my response was, “No. She doesn’t deserve for me to give her anything.” He looked at me while we were at a stop light and said, “Wow. Good thing God doesn’t treat you like that.” I had no response. I had no excuse. I’ve never forgotten it.

What if God only extended as much grace to me as I was willing to show to others?

1998

Having Ella ask me why I was apologizing when someone else had wronged me, gave me a chance to teach her a lesson. But I know that my example, my works, is what she’ll follow and what she’ll remember. So I’m not against our kids knowing that we have disagreements or that we occasionally argue. Would it be better if we never did? Sure. But in the mean time, hopefully they learn that when we fail (which we will), and when we’re willing to humble ourselves and make things right, God (and Mom and Dad) are always there waiting to show us grace.

As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.
-1 Peter 4:10

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.
- Matthew 5:16

I Am the Head of Our Home

 

As I open my laptop and sink back with a sigh of ease into the couch, kids are joyously practicing music for Sunday, and my wife is chopping some tasty ingredients for her pasta sauce. Lily is running around with one to five babies in her arms saying “baby… baby” like an alarm clock that just won’t shut off at 5am. She does have such a beautiful sweet little voice though, even if it never stops talking.

Just an hour or so ago we sampled my wife’s latest baking masterpiece, Pumpkin Turtle Cheesecake. Yesterday, she and Charity spent half the afternoon preparing some goodies for us all to try. She wasn’t much of a baker when we married, but I must say, she is spectacular now. Maybe you’ve seen her post about Marshmallow Fondant, which has had nearly 35,000 hits to date. She’s so cool.

mmmmmm…

I often take great joy from the functionality of our home. I am pleased by how our “army of clean” mobilizes and reconstructs the designed order faster than a Fantasia wizard. I need only give the order and POOF cleanliness happens. And they love it. They love it, and I love it! They love to help. It is our culture now. We now have a culture of helping each other be happy and successful, and making each other more productive in our calling.

 

Often we get asked how we do “it”. “It” being whatever it is that we do. What do we do that merits such a question? And if you knew how we do what we do would you care anyhow since you don’t want to do what we do? Perhaps the how is only fully experienced in the doing of some things. Truthfully though, this home is an organism that is functional, successful, and thriving for a reason.

It’s nice now to be reaping the fruits of a field planted over a decade ago. We have sowed into the good ground bountifully and reaped tenfold what we poured in. Reading a book or hearing a quote, even sitting through an inspirational conference won’t change your life. You will change your life. Coaching is great, but words don’t raise children or function in marriage, people do. We do choose, for the most part, what direction we will guide each of those relationships and institutions in our lives, and we will one day receive of the direction that we have chosen. If you’re headed the wrong direction in your life, or seeing the fruits of bad decisions starting to come out, make haste to change before you run out of time to see good produce.

When we were younger (like none of your business how young younger) we decided that we were going to make decisions in our home based on what the Bible teaches. It really took place out of necessity more than some miraculous saint-like disposition. We were so young and so green that we just didn’t feel qualified to run our lives without help. We needed knowledge, wisdom, and understanding of outcome that wasn’t simply “natural” or commonly taught for that matter. My wife and I are both planners. We think things through and do them methodically. Planning life, which cannot be “redone”, was a terrifying adventure that we needed advice on. Out of a necessity to succeed in life and parenting we took the counsel of God as our constitution and have made our choices based on that.

The Bible, with its romantic Shakespearean vocabulary and tone can seem a little archaic most times today. Especially in our generation where our one year olds are showing us how to do things on our IPhones, Google has replaced our memory and education, and our cars are telling us when to turn right. We are very far removed from the world in which the Bible was penned. Our culture today is very different from the culture of the first century, let alone 1600 – 400 BC where most of the pages of the Bible come from. Clothing has changed. Time use has changed. Employment has changed. Technology has changed. Travel has changed. Education has changed. Equality has changed. Politics have changed. Affections have changed. So much has changed. Yet, for all that has changed in the world, the Bible has still remained just as relevant and accurate as always. It just takes a little more effort to unearth the diamonds after these years. Don’t believe those who would take your mind and money by swaying you to their voice instead of God’s. His ways are right. Those four words, His ways are right have been the base of all that we do, and may we gently and humbly say, all that we succeed in doing by “how we do what we do” is to God’s credit and the miraculous accuracy of His ways found in His words. His ways are right, every time.

 

I am the head of our home. I am handed that position. (Yikes) God given, and God designed, because that is what the Bible teaches. I am both responsible to have the final say, and to give account for our home one day to God.

Now before any mother, wife, mother-in-law, aunt, sister, cousin, friend of the family, neighbour, or innocent blog onlooker string me to be tarred and feathered, please hear me out.

I don’t like being in charge. I don’t like the stress, and I don’t like the responsibility. I don’t want to be the boss. I want to be the guy who blames the boss. I am the king of the castle, but I didn’t vote me here nor do I want to sit in any throne. When we sit down to dinner, my wife and I both sit at the head of our table, because I would rather sit beside her than seem to be in charge.

You see, when the leadership race was introduced early in our relationship, there were only 3 voters, and my wife and God voted for me. Year after year, as the occasional election is called, my wife votes me, and threatens the life of anyone who votes against me! I am only as close to my potential as a man as I am because my wife has decided that I can be that close. She has helped me to be me. And just like Adam was not complete or satisfied in this world without his wife, nor can I be. Without her, I would be just a boring balding guy with tendonitis in my thumbs from the decades of videogame addiction and no real purpose to do anything different. But with her encouraging me to thrive as a man, I can do things that only she would have dreamed of. I am writing this post, and have been posting more of late, because she has encouraged me to. She has been, as she often does, leading me to lead by suggesting following my leadership.

It felt odd at first, me being the head of the home. I… and you both know that my wife is smarter, wiser, more qualified, and makes better decisions than I do. She is better with money than me. (Okay, that may be the most understating understatement ever understated) She thinks things through better than me. She is more patient than I am. She keeps her temper better than me… No I take that back. No… I take back taking it back because I fear the repercussions. She is also much better looking than I am. (Timing is everything) Yet she decides, with all of these traits to her name, to let me lead the way the Bible teaches me that I should.

Don’t get me wrong, if I were a jerk about it, and abused my place, I would definitely hear about it. From the time we first understood our roles in the home, I have always told her that I need her companionship in leading. I lead leaders. I am accountable to lead well because they know better than I how to lead.

Keona is a leader. She’s still in need of a lot of maturing, but she understands her role. Everyone copies the basics of her culture. When all the rewards are tallied and the credit is given, I believe that Keona will have had as much of the reward for our successful home as Jaclyn or I may. She is the assistant parent, the motivation from within the crowd, the conscience of the next generation. She knows that if she were to decide to lead them into something destructive, she could. But I have told her, just the same as Jaclyn, or even my three clones, that if they believe that I am doing something wrong, I need to know so I don’t make a mess. We are accountable as followers to help our leaders to lead us.

(Lily had to be forcibly removed from the park)

I am not a fan of homes or anything else being a dictatorship. I believe that we should run our home the way God shows us and tells us to. We won’t turn this into a Bible study, but simply put, a husband has responsibility to lead the home sacrificially, humbly, and in unselfishness, not with a baton. We as husbands need to take up our responsibility at home like Christ took up the cross, and follow Him in how we carry our home. Often, if we didn’t have such capable and determined ladies to lead the home, our homes would be a total disaster, because most men don’t give a rip if it falls apart. It’s time that men started being men who are worth following rather than quoting something legalistically to get their way or ranting in a tantrum like a bratty 3 year old. You wonder where your children learn to treat you like that? Seeing now how my daughters, nearing a difficult age, treat me so much like my wife treats me, I am so so so thankful for a wife that has taught them by example to follow in love. I believe she will reap the fruits of her decision to follow in her daughters as they come to their teenage years. Lead in love, by loving, and love will be the result.

Why is important. Since when does God tell us directly to do something and say “don’t talk back about it… and bake me some brownies.” God, just the opposite, wants us to bring everything we ever have a concern with to Him in prayer and request, so that we can understand why. Most people get bitter with God or never understand why because they don’t ask Him why. In most cases, He will help us to see “why”. (Also, in most cases, we don’t want to know why because we or our dumb decisions are why) I am in a stage of seeing “why” all around me in so many parts of life, including our home. Most people don’t communicate the “why” because they either don’t know, or don’t want you to know. Besides, how can any child ever learn how to make decisions if we never explain our decisions? Communicating the “why” is one of the most important details in communicating to those you lead.

As I write this, my cake baking, dinner making, photo taking, stay at home “domestic engineer”, homeschooling, mother of eight wife is telling me not to make my post too long. Ha. Too late honey, but thanks for the reminder.

I wonder how many men never reach their potential as a husband or father because they were never given a chance to grow into their role and thrive. The truth is, most of us are not qualified or good at it, especially at first. But you can never know how great a marriage and home you can have unless you are willing to trust the hope, and the words that recommended the hope.

I am the head of our home. I don’t own it; it is ours. I don’t even really do all that much compared to others here. But I will take the advice of the leader who follows me and grow into the man that God intends me to be.

“But he that is greatest among you shall be your servant. And whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted.” – Jesus Christ (Matthew 23:11-12)

Chess

 

When I was about 10, while bored out of my mind at my grandparent’s house one day, I asked my Grandpa to teach me to play chess. Set neatly and reverently between two seats in his living room was a metallic chess set. Instead of black and white pieces they were silver and gold coloured. It was shiny like it held value to him personally.

I can’t remember all the details, but I do remember that he cheated. I didn’t know at the time, but he did. Looking back, he stuck his queen right in front of my king and said, if I remember right, “that’s mate.” I had no idea what that meant but the look on his face said that he had beaten me. He warned me that I would have to practice with my Mom to get better so I could beat him. Every once in a while, when we would head just a few streets over to where my grandparents lived, he would take his gentle time beating me at a game of chess.

(Elijah and I played the first game on Grandpa’s old board)

A couple of years later, nearing the end of his time here on earth, when I visited Grandpa in the senior’s home where he and my Grandma lived, we would still get out the chess board and play a game or two. By those days I was one of those distinct losers who represented our elementary school at the county chess tournament every year. But to me, it was a chance to practice to beat Grandpa.

I remember our last game of chess together. I’m pretty sure it was on this board. He had the set out already when we arrived for a visit. His voice was still ever calming, but weaker. The oxygen tank hissed gently as we talked and played. I had learned a few things about playing chess. I learned that you can distract people with conversation, humour, or even temporary insanity, and that distraction works very well. I intended on winning against him for the first time that day.

I remember my Dad stepping out of the room to have a cigarette as we played and my grandpa saying, “Don’t smoke Scott.” The spirit behind the words and the genuine authority in his eyes drove me to say… “I won’t” as I took one of his pieces off the board. It wasn’t long before my Dad heard those same words from Grandpa and took his advice.

It was a long hard fought battle with pawns into queens and random acts of sacrificing. In the end I did win the only game I ever beat him. But looking back, with the obvious frustration that he displayed, I am pretty sure he let me win. He once said to me, “Scott, you never let people win at chess.” I actually take it very personally when I lose a game of chess because to me, that is a sacred place where my Grandpa and I met. Each game is a memory of him and I play as though he is watching over my shoulder.

Today in our home chess has become the great equalizer. All ages, genders, and levels of competitive nature can play and enjoy the time. Once in a while it gets to be about smashing the pride of the other person, but for the most part, it’s about time together.

A couple of years back I was given, what I believe to be, the board that we played on that last time. Unfortunately, I found it too valuable to allow my supernaturally destructive offspring to touch. Shelved out of use for the sake of protection it sat unused and forgotten.

Months back I noticed a bit of work being done around my workplace with some acrylic sheets. I asked my boss if he would mind if I took a small section from an end cut, told him the reason, and he said I could take it. I had decided to make a simple encasement to protect the old cardboard playing board. I set the sheet aside and as often is the case, forgot about it. This past month, as some renovations were going on in our area of the plant, the sheet had to be moved out of the corner it was stored in. I felt almost guilty that I had never actually finished the project. So I did. I finished it. Resurrected from the abyss that is the storage area of my office space has arisen this new/old treasure for our family to enjoy.

As I write this, Charity and Keona are having a cruel game of cut-throat chess on the coffee table beside me. I believe they have both won a game each today. The trash talking is below average, but I sense an elevation coming as this game continues. As our minds meet on this plastic battlefield for the sake of victory over the other, our minds meet. Today we seem to be so detached from our children, and so removed from a constructive inescapable conversation about, well, anything. Perhaps, as I grow older and they become more themselves, it will become a place where we can meet together and have a simple special time that will be remembered forever.

I look forward to the day when Grandpa and I can sit down upon seats of gold and enjoy perhaps a reunion game together as we catch up a little in Heaven. He will ask me how the years have been and how I spent them. I hope he will be proud of me. I hope it will honour him how I’ve invested my life.

But for now, as I wait for that day, I will spend some time with those God has given me to love, and perhaps, with a warm cup of tea and a quiet background song, take out Grandpa’s old board and play a game of chess together.

(Inviting, isn’t it?)

“And the things that thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also.”
- 2 Timothy 2:2

“Best Birthday Ever!”

 

About a month ago, we had a bin dropped off in our driveway to get rid of all the junk taking up our basement. I couldn’t get over the number of toys we either threw out, or put in a pile for Goodwill. Our kids have such an abundance of things. Such an abundance of unnecessary, unused, forgotten-about stuff. Since completing the purge, I decided to take more time, throw away less money, and so something more memorable for birthdays.

I was stuck when Jeddy’s started approaching. It would be so easy to buy him a new toy airplane, or truck, or train. I fought the urge to give-in and prayed that God would help me find something to make his birthday special and memorable. That weekend, we drove by the Buttonville airport and for the first time I noticed a sign advertising “Sight-Seeing Flights”. Thank you, Lord! I knew it was the perfect gift. Jeddy has loved airplanes since he was a toddler. He has wanted to be a pilot for as long as he’s been able to speak. See here and here… So on Monday morning, I called and booked the flight for his birthday. Grandma and great-grandpa pitched in, and we spent less than I would have on toys that would soon be forgotten.

Note: I’m not against toys… He still used his birthday money from us and great-grandpa to buy a new Lego set and Keona bought him a few model airplanes from the prop shop at the airport. I am against buying stuff just because you feel obligated to buy something. My boys play with their Lego every single day. Jeddy also has a collection of airplanes that have come with him to hospital when having an asthma attack and he proudly displays them on his dresser most days.

We told him about two weeks prior, that we had a big surprise for him on his birthday! So the anticipation had been building for some time. The morning of his birthday, he requested “pancakes bigger than his head" for breakfast. I made him three. I think it was the first time I’ve seen him NOT be able to finish a meal. :) Then we headed out for the surprise.

Here was his reaction…

When he looks off to the side, he was looking at his brother and sisters to see if we were tricking him.

Here he is in the plane…

About halfway through the flight Scott texted me that he was sick. Haha. I’m sorry. I mean, poor Scott… :P The boys both had a blast and Scott felt sick for the rest of the day.

Jeddy declared it the “BEST BIRTHDAY EVER” several times and cannot wait until his 14th birthday when he can go get his student pilot license.

Just for memory-sake, I have to mention how much Jeddy adores his big brother. He was so excited that Elijah got to go with him. When I took him out shopping to get his Lego set he kept saying, “I can’t wait to get home and build this with Elijah!” I absolutely love their relationship. Well, except when they’re wrestling in my living room or trying out new karate moves on eachother…

Can’t believe my little monkey is 7!

The other day he came over and hugged me around the waist like he always does, looked up at me and said, “Mom, I just can’t stop lovin’ you. It’s impossible!”

Ella took this picture and I did not pose him in any way. He always asks me, “Mom, can you give me a kiss?”

Jeddy has such a sweet and giving spirit. He is a people person. He loves doing new things, meeting new people, eating new food, and finding unusual bugs and animals. I couldn’t adore him more.

Love you my little man.

Happy 7th Birthday!

Here We Go!

Today, my baby turned 13.

We officially have a teenager living in our house. I know this will sound cliché, and everyone says it… but seriously, where has the time gone!?!? It seems like just yesterday that Scott and I were sitting in Greenwood Park dreaming about what our kids would look like. Or chatting in the Scarborough Town Centre food court about who’s eyes she would have. My only request was that she DIDN’T get Scott’s toes. Sorry Keona…

I sat at the kitchen table tonight with Keona, my mom, and my little brother. We talked and laughed about all sorts of things. Somehow we got on the topic of how a little over a year ago, Keona went through a very moody phase. I was constantly telling her to “fix her face” and “cheer up!”

She said, “Oh yeah, that was annoying!”

I told her, “Your face was annoying!”

We both had a good laugh over that memory. I am ever so thankful that she passed through the I-just-want-to-be-by-myself-black-is-my-favourite-colour-leave-me-alone phase! Though her loud and hyper giddiness can be overwhelming and slightly irritating at times – I would gladly take it over mood swings any day!

Summer 2009

Since the day that we brought the triplets home from the hospital, she has been my little (now big) helper. Even with the mood swings here and there… :)

I think about my relationship with my mom, and how she will just drop by with a tea sometimes and we can sit and chat for hours… I look forward to having that relationship with my girls. I got to take Keona out shopping today. She bought jewellery, clothes (pinks and purples –not black!), and books. I do cherish my time alone with each of my kids – but I’m beginning to realize how fleeting it is. We only have four more years before she heads off to college or university. Four years…

Scott took her out for a lunch date and this is how he replied to my phone call… :P

My mom took her out shopping where she got more clothes, shoes, jewellery, lip gloss, perfume, and of course – more books! All of the typical teenage girly stuff. I am so proud of Keona already. I am glad that she is confident enough to stand up for herself, and others, when she feels someone is being wronged. Even if it means saving some frogs from boys who were killing them for fun, and then having to run to her Uncle Robbie when said boy threatens to punch her for releasing the frogs. (You go girl!) I have seen her mature a lot in the past year and a half. I am excited to watch her grow. Since she was born, we have been doing our very best to prepare her to leave. I’m continually challenged and encouraged by her heart for God, and above all else, I can’t wait to see where He leads her. I am so thankful that He chose me to be her Mom.

People always told us, “Just wait until you have your own!”

Then it was, “Well, just wait until you have more than one!”

Next came, “Just wait until you have a boy!”

And now we hear, “Just wait until you have teenagers!”

Well… here we go!

“cry… cry.. Cry. CRY! CRY!”

Written by Scott AKA Dad... :)

 

A triplet is losing. They don’t lose well. Yet, I think they lose better than they win…

“YES! OWNAGE!!” – Eve Polhamus

It’s genetic.

Lately we have picked up this game where we all have an equal chance of winning and the girls seem to really enjoy the challenge of playing with Mom and Dad. Settlers of Catan is probably the best board game fun we’ve had together in a long time if ever. Sadly, (or gently hilarious) the girls are evil to each other.

“If you don’t trade with me I will just knight you.” – Keona Polhamus

They will lose just to wreck the plans of their sister to frustrate her to tears. Today Charity was the one who cried… or was it Prayer? It may have been both. If you want to make one cry, simply see where they are plotting to build, go there, smile at them, and watch the fire burn. First it’s a “whhyyyyy”, then it’s a “noooo” then it’s a “SLAM!” as they smash their hand on the table, and finally, the face goes into the hands and everyone laughs at the misfortune. Then comes the “cry” chant. Priceless. If we were primates in the jungle, one of them would have pushed another out of a tree by now. Thankfully, we are a very forgiving family.

Meanwhile, the little kids playing on my PS3 in the other room, not so forgiving. “ElijAHHH!!!” Ella screams and Elijah hisses out his signature sinister laugh. “I’m telling Mom…. Mom! Elijah is killin me on purpose.” Co-op kids games… the person who came up with that idea had one kid… I better step in before someone throws a 50$ controller at somebody else.

Sure, yup, we may be just a tad competitive when it comes to our “family fun” time, but it’s been so great to see our kids mature into little people. Their tendencies and personalities excite me; each one having a different soul, with different likes and dreams and purpose. Yet all are so much a like, and so much in harmony. Our house is pretty funny at times. Today I think we could have won ten grand on AFV several times with just Prayer alone. If I’m bored, I just give the triplets sugar, and then watch the room erupt.

Prayer came into the living room this afternoon while someone was practicing the piano (which never stops… #earplugs) and she just starts a wiggling. Jac and I both gave her a crooked look and then out of nowhere she starts doing some crazy victory dance she saw on a game show.. and that to this classical music. Jac just started heaving in laughter. Sometimes I really do wonder if these children have a chemically induced mental instability. It just goes off. Like a kitten that sees a laser pointer light, triplets start a riot. I’m not complaining, just kinda… venting? … informing? … better yet – forewarning. If you come here, you may not be impressed, but it will leave an impression.

Eve was practicing some really nice music on the piano the other day, so I complimented her on how lovely it was and thanked her for playing. Prayer pipes up, “Oh if you like that one you will love this one…” followed by a chuckle, and a crazy grin, and Prayer sitting down to the piano. She then, from memory, played some freaky classical piece that, had it not been so funny, would have given me nightmares.

“What did you think?” She asked, as my eyebrows were still raised and I began to search for an exit.
”Um… I’m pretty sure that’s gonna give me nightmares… thanks for that.”

“No problem!”

 

The girl is destined for something… odd. Not quite sure what yet.

Some of these kids have taken quite a liking to our Toronto Blue Jays. We have a pretty healthy split down the middle as to who will watch.

Lily is trying to say everything. Even if she can’t say something, if you tell her to say it she will try and then just mumble out some craziness. Her hair is… enviable. It’s beautiful and insane and fun. Sometimes I just mess it up and frizz it up for fun. Then I watch as this giant head of hair with legs goes running through the house. I could snuggle her all day long, that is, if she could stay still for 30 seconds, which she cannot.

Is it just me, or does she resemble Richard Simmons here? -Jac

Tonight we took our black Clifford dog to the field nearby and let him run back and forth between Jac and I. I’m not sure if I have ever seen an animal move that quickly. Justus was running at me so fast that I thought for sure he would run right through me. Earlier, Charity, Eve and I had been playing catch in the back yard with a softball and the dog took it. I got sick of chasing him so I linebacker tackled him and pinned him while one of the kids grabbed the ball out of his gator sized mouth and ran with it. Needless to say, I am not fast enough to catch this dog. He is a lot of fun, and has a lot of spunk in short spurts. The rest of the time he just hogs the couch and sleeps on his back with his feet straight up in the air.

Tonight Jac and I went out for dinner and a sunset. It’s been too long since we did that. She is the love of my life, and my favourite person to be with. In fact, as I write this she is snoring beside me. I think I might join her.

A Good Morning

(Written by Dad two weeks ago while Mom was at the CN Tower stair climb)

 

“Good mornin’ Dad.”

“Good mornin’ Ella.”

Ella is always the sweetest morning greeter. With her gentle sweet tone, and oft mispronouncing of words, Ella snuggles in beside and sooths the soul to start the day. I would keep her four years old for a couple more years if I could. Every girl has been different at this age, but all have been most pleasant and a delight to be with.

I don’t understand why everyone has to line the upstairs hallway just because it’s morning. Board games, Lego, books and everything else you can imagine fill the long pathway past each of the kid’s rooms towards the stairs. The problem is that these kids are early risers, while I am the one who works the night shift. By the time I’m up, they are pretty famished and bored. Such good kids!

Jaclyn is out this morning, our little food beggar Jed with her, so it’s up to me to begin the day. As I pass the boy’s door, the dog spots me. Like the sound of an arriving train, Justus’ tail clanks the bars of his nighttime cage. “Rooorooooo…” I can’t resist when he sounds so sad, unless he has just whipped me with his tail or stuck his nose into my food, then I can resist.

“Release the hound!” I say to Ella.

“Release the horse…” She responds. I can only assume she picked that up where she got the rest of her 10-year-old vocabulary and need to make fun of people. She thinks she is a 10-year-old girl and a boy and a princess all at the same time.

“Ella, can you open the shutters for me?” I ask. “Sure!” she replies as she skips over to the first window. From her tiptoes she can just barely reach the top row.

“I will do the top row El, you do the bottom.”

We go around the ground floor opening all the shutters, making it morning, revealing the mess I had forgotten we left here last night.

“Who made all this mess!?” I asked Ella. She just chuckles as she finishes the last bottom shutter. We begin to tidy up some things.

“Mom should be home any minute. Let’s clean up a little, then we can have some breakfast.”

Ella is such a helper. She runs the stairs six or seven times to bring things up to our room while I sweep a little. “Elijah, you put the shoes away. Charity, you let the dog out and feed him breakfast. Ella, you take these things up to my room and put them on our bed.” Together we tag team the mess and in a couple of minutes the clean house buried underneath is revealed.

“Mom’s home!” A voice calls out from up in the roost that is the girl’s front window. We are always alerted as soon as someone we expect makes the turn onto our street. Mom and Jed return with a coffee and some breakfast for me. What a sweet woman. She’s so sweet! As we sit in the living room and she and Jed start to tell us all the details of their adventure. She begins with, “Wow, there were so many people puking halfway up the CN Tower!” …just as I unfold the last corner of packaging from my Sausage McMuffin. Yum…

The children are chattering and the dog’s feet patter around the kitchen. No one is ever alone in our kitchen any more. As soon as you enter either a curious little person with an inquisitive pleading smile accompanies you, or a mammoth mooch with ears perked and drool dripping. You can guess which one is the dog.

“Up! Up!” Lily stands beside her high chair, sensing the coming meal. Her sweet little language is tonal. She has a sweet soprano twist up at the end of each word when she is being lovely, and a low-pitched grunt as she is being… difficult. It’s as though we got all the traits of each of the previous seven children jammed into this cute ball of love-hate. She is a chatterbox and sleeps in like Keona did. She raids the cupboards and climbs things like the triplets did. She loses her mind and smashes things with rage like Elijah did/does. She eats like an abyss, begs food and can take a hit like Jed did/does. She cuddles, plays with boys toys and flirts with her sweetness like Ella did. And then, with all of that, somehow she got my eyes and Jaclyn’s hair and build. She sings and tries to whistle. She yells, “DA! DA! DA! DAAAaaaaaaa!” When I come home. Everything she wants she points to, looks at you, and says, “sare” which of course means “share”. As soon as we taught her to share she started guilt tripping everyone else to share with her.

Breakfast is served! Everything we have that doesn’t take any work is available this morning. Some get donuts, some get pizza buns from last night, some get anything they can convince us to let them have. It’s so late anyways that we are having lunch in a short while. At least, that’s how I justify it as I sit on the couch and check Facebook.

Morning is special here. I love it. And as we settle into our Bibles for a little nourishment, or into our cups of tea and coffee for a little fellowship, we all enjoy a sweet start to the day together.

Thank you Lord for our home. Thank you for mornings together. Thank you for loving and teaching us to love.

Happy Father’s Day

To seriously,

  

the best

Dad I know.

We love you to the moon and back!

Saturday Morning…

 

It was a very long week…

Just When I Started Blogging Again…

Just when I started to get back into blogging mode, I dropped my laptop. Dropped my laptop on my new ceramic (read: stone-like) kitchen floor. I dropped my laptop while I was moving it to KEEP IT SAFE from the kids. Can you tell that I’m still mad at myself??? I dropped it a week ago. Thankfully, after spending a small fortune, we were able to get everything off the hard drive. But… the screen was shattered and the laptop itself- is toast. (Insert crying smiley here)

Later that night, Jeddy came over to me and said, “I just can’t say it!!!”

I asked him what he was talking about, and said, “Oh, just a Christmas present I’m going to get you!”

I said, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! I’m going to buy you somethin’ but Dad’s gonna pay for it. Cause I don’t have enough money…”

Me: “Does Dad know about this?”

Jeddy: “No. But I’m gonna tell him!”

I love that kid.

So, I promise that there will be some pictures of Lily and the house soon- but they’re waiting on Scott getting my PC up and running again.

But for now…

On a brighter note- we are done school for Christmas break! We ended today with a debate- Who’s Smarter: Women or Men?

Keona is getting into debating now. It was always one of my favourite parts of Jr High… when we got to debate! So, we started her off debating her Dad- just for fun and good practice! Keona sat on the couch across from Scott, and we had the triplets and Elijah as an audience. The debate went back and forth with points such as, “All the greatest inventors were men!” to… “Who were homeschooled by their MOMS…” ha! Followed by a list of great minds who were taught by women. (You go girl!)

Anyhow, eventually Scott started to pull ahead and Keona was running out of arguments. That’s when the triplets jumped in… Scott had 4 girls arguing with him at the same time! I’m laughing just picturing it in my head… They are passionately debating their points, while Elijah sits on the couch across from them with his fingers pinched in front of his eyes saying, “Squish, squish, squish!” The kid was pretending to squish his sisters…

Then the argument got into Adam and Eve and Scott made the point that Eve was deceived and not Adam. The girls started to argue it and Elijah shouts over all four of his sisters, “Read your Bible!”

Oh man, this, after Scott saying that the feminist movement was dead (as a joke about something) and Charity piping up, “No, it’s not!” I explained to her what the feminist movement was today…

They crack me up. I had to laugh today while Scott was in the livingroom with seven (SEVEN!) women! These girls love their Dad, and I am loving their personalities, and seeing their own opinions form on things as they grow up.

 

Lily, is doing extremely well. She is now fitting into all of her newborn-sized outfits. She does however, refuse to sleep in her crib. I can’t complain though. I can’t really blame her either. Technically, she would still be in the belly- so she has an excuse! :)

Ella, who we worried about being jealous. Isn’t jealous at all so far. Possessive of “her baby”- yes. But jealous- no.

 

Scott, went out grocery shopping today and came home with a princess costume for Ella. And a tiara to top it off.

He tried to put the tiara on her several times but I guess he wasn’t doing it right, cause she took it out of his hands and said, “Just let Mom do it!” Once I had put it on, she ran back over to him with her big puckered lips and gave him a big I-love-you-daddy kiss on the cheek!

 

P.S. Have I mentioned lately that I hate our cats? Anyone want to take them off our hands??? Free to a good home! ;)

“The Baby”

On Sunday morning, Scott took a few of the kids who weren’t coughing quite so badly to church. I stayed home with the really sick ones. Keona looked like a walking corpse. Poor thing… and Jed, well he couldn’t stop coughing, but that didn’t deter him from running around non-stop.

 

Shortly after breakfast, I noticed that my braxton hicks contractions were becoming more frequent. Not painful. Just more often. Around lunch time, I decided to time them, and noticed that they were about 5 minutes apart. That lasted for an hour and then stopped. This continued all day long. I texted Scott to warn him. He told his Mom to be ready to head over ‘just in case’… but I really didn’t give it much thought. Afterall, my body refuses to go into labour… and I’m only 35/36 weeks. Mind you, my OB had told me that she wouldn’t be surprised if I went early- seeing that the baby was measuring farther along… and to come in right away if my contractions lasted more than 1/2 an hour.

 

Fast forward to Monday morning… the contractions were back. Still not “labour”… but they were definitely getting more noticeable. My back was cramping with them now, and every once in a while I had a sharp pain by my c section scar. Which was a little bit unnerving with how many c-sections I’ve had. After speaking with my OB’s assistant, we decided to head into the hospital totally expecting to be back home in a few hours.

 

At first, the monitor was picking up my contractions and I honestly started to wonder if I was crazy. I told Scott to come put his hand on my stomach just to be sure I wasn’t imagining things… After moving the monitors around and the pain getting a little more intense, they decided to start an IV to see if that put a stop to things. Nope. Still thought I was going home shortly. Then they gave me a shot of… cannot remember the name of it- but it made me feel like I was in a dream for the rest of the night. That didn’t work to stop the contractions either. Before either of us were expecting anything, the OB came in and told us that we were heading to the ER right away for a c-section. They didn’t want to risk any damage to my scar…

Yikes! Nurses were handing me papers, quizzing me on past surgeries, allergies… you name it! I could barely put a sentence together, nevermind remember any of those things! I started crying as I was telling Scott to call my Mom and scribbling down random numbers as my kids birthdates, that made no sense at all!

About 20 minutes later, at 6:12pm, a 5lb 10oz baby girl was born!

I was positive, that I was having a boy- so we didn’t have any girl names picked out! She remained “the baby” until the next morning.

The rest of the events of that evening are less than pleasant, and not particularly ones I want to remember. My perfectly healthy, crying-like-a-champ baby, was taken from me shortly after I got her because she was “grunting” (diagnosed by a rookie paediatrician) put on an IV for antibiotics it turns out she never needed, poked over 8 times as they tried to get an IV into every single one of her limbs, before they finally put it in her umbilical cord and x-rayed her to make sure it was in right, accidentally pulled it out, put it in and x-rayed her again, and then… she was diagnosed with erratic breathing. Well I guess so! I would be breathing pretty erratically after going through all of that as well! I got to see her again at 3:30am, when I was told not to touch her so that the IV doesn’t come out. The IV she never needed in the first place… But I digress…

Daddy’s hand…

The next morning after going to see her in the nursery, we named her “Lily Elizabeth.” Neither of those names had come up throughout the entire pregnancy. And… we agreed on it right away. Ha! “Lily” after my mom, and “Elizabeth” after Scott’s grandma.

Thankfully, she never had another problem for the next 4 days that she spent in the hospital.

Me, holding her for the first time after the whole ordeal…

It was not how I had envisioned her birth.

My kids were not there. We didn’t get all the pictures I had planned. My kids didn’t get to see her until Saturday, because they were all so sick that we couldn’t bring them into the hospital to visit. But God is good! My new OB was on call the day we came in and she is a brilliant surgeon. My surgery that was expected to have complications- went flawlessly. Scott was able to take the week off of work without any problems. Between my mom and Scott’s mom, we didn’t have to worry about our other kids at all. Lily, was a perfectly healthy little girl in spite of being born early. She has nursed like a little piggy from the get-go. She got to come home to the same house as our last three… Oh yeah, did I mention that we moved 9 days after she was born??? :) The rest of my kids are healthy again, and thankfully didn’t pass anything on to their baby sister. So many things to be thankful for…

Cell phone pic of her ‘going home’ outfit!

Two weeks later, and she has already filled-out that sleeper!

 

So there’s the story.

Now you’ll have to put up with me posting pictures of her constantly!

Her, and my new house… ;)