just to show he was listening...

I love the quiet moments where you realize you made a point, that they understood what I was saying.
I was teaching the Plan of Salvation yesterday in church to the kids age 3 to 8. This tells of how we willingly came to earth to follow a Savior, repent, and return to our God(in a super short version). At the end we were discussing how we'd each be judged for our actions and where we'd be sent. We talked about the degrees of glory, and how the place where God will reside is likened unto the Sun, and then there is a place likened unto the moon, and then the worse destination is likened unto the stars. I walked the kids through scenarios, "in the dark which would you prefer? stars or a bright moon?" A night with a moon, or a full sun-lit sky? I think they got it.
Last night as I tucked Eli in we were discussing his upcoming baptism and what this commitment means. And he said, 'I probably have STARS stamped on my heart mom.'
He cracks me up. And...he gives me LOTS of opportunities to teach :)

favorite Sunday of the year

"whoever said 'Easy like Sunday morning' obviously never had children"....
It is amazing to me that my kids, who are full of life for sure...but usually fairly well behaved...become little dancing devils every. single. Sunday. morning. Just like clock work. Its like they're possessed. In fact, the only thing predictable about their behavior this day is that it will be the worst its been all week.

Having said this...THIS week was my favorite Sunday of the year: Christmas Sunday. Naughtiness is usually at a minimum because the anticipation to wear the new outfit that's been taunting you from the closet for a month is too much. Kids who usually fight the shower AGREE on attempt one. 'Its Christmas Sunday', after all. And Landri actually WANTED her hair done.

 Her outfit was cuter with the red sweater specifically bought for Christmas, but this was a last minute compromise to stem the fit that was coming...

 Eli. This kid has some querks. And Sunday clothes are one of 'em. He refuses to wear a tie and his nice dress shoes. So I didn't waste money on new duds he wouldn't wear. This outfit is his 'comfort zone'...why mess with a good thing?

 What do you say? That she's the cutest, pocket-sized angel in the world?

 Growing up. In a tight little black skirt.

 Handsome. And not just because I'm biased.

And there was no corralling them into a group picture where all five of them faced forward and smiled nicely. At least I will have lots of pictures of my kids as they really are! Sass. Spunk and LIFE :)
Merry Christmas!

Taking Temple Square...

I had my post op appointment on the 18th of December back in Salt Lake. Because I'm one of 'those' moms who has counted out every moment I have with my kids, I knew this would be our last 'season' that was free in the fall months. Well, specifically, the Christmas season. Next year Kolbe starts high school, which is entirely different post :( and for now I'll stick to the happy stuff! Once he's in high school, this is basketball season, and there's no leaving. And because we felt that having our children every two years was sheer genius, our holidays are committed from here on out. And I desperately waned to take my family to Temple Square. Traveling is not my favorite option, in fact I'm probably worse than the kids. But with a reason to go, we pulled the kids from school and headed down. Roads were perfect on the way there. My back and hip tolerate the car in doses...so we went to Pocatello the first night. And swam. And called 911 from the room(while Nate and I ate breakfast). And left.
It was a fast and furious trip...the doc appointment was good. "All is on track."
I'm sure we looked like so many other tourists to that place, wide eyed and amazed. Temple Square is perhaps one of the most beautiful places in the world on any given day...but when decked out with the Season of Christmas...there are no words. So here are some pics...

We spent time in many of the buildings...spacing it out with time for the little one, who'd skipped her nap, to run off a little 'crazy' outside with the lights. THIS is my favorite place in the world...no doubt:

The Christus.

My favorite place. You walk up a circular ramp into this room where the walls are painted to be the skies and worlds...and then there is a HUGE statue of the resurrected Christ...the marks in his hands and feet still evident. Its beautiful...and the spirit is so strong! My favorite place...with my favorite crazies...

I'm sure that we stuck out big time. My kids are straight off the farm. And yes, while we preach tolerance, and whisper 'stop staring' they were very obviously shocked by some differences in culture there.

We awoke to a nasty snow storm and hit the road earlier than we had planned. We drove to back to Butte before my back and hip were DONE. 3 motels in 3 days...meant lots of swim time for the kids. I think if you asked them their highlights of the trip it would be Temple Square, the man peeing on the exterior wall of Temple Square, and all the swim time.

My highlight was obvious. It was a first and a last for my little family. The next time we make it back there time will have changed my family so much. My kids may even have kids of their own. Cringe! So thankful we were able to carve out a little memory: The Clampits Take Temple Square.

the Golden Corral???

I had to take Kenna to Great Falls yesterday for an orthodontist appointment. We had missed and rescheduled twice, so we were seriously looking forward to a little girl time. And, of course we had Lu. Lu, who screamed and growled and pretty much just made the trip MISERABLE. After I could handle it no more, I started mimicking her horrid sound to answer her every onery request. A few minutes into this(poor Kenna), Landri apparently realized it was painful to listen to. After a quick discussion about how we should be talking/asking for things...there was blessed silence! Kenna shot me a naughty little look of approval! I know....not the 'best parenting' approach,  but SO effective! We got about 3 minutes of happy conversation when Landri very sweetly, in the cutest, calmest, baby girl voice announced, "mommy, I'm reeeaaaaallllly hungry". "Oh," I said, "what would you like to eat today?"

"A lunch buffet."

WHAT??? Seriously, we don't do buffets. We really don't eat out, unless you count the periodic super fast run through the drive through at McDonalds or something. We're hardly in town... Kenna and I were totally impressed with her decisiveness. A lunch buffet. (she didn't get it, but she didn't even remember!) We however, have joked about it a thousand times!

Her little AND GIANT personality are such proof to me of Heavenly Father's love for me and his obvious sense of humor. This kid is power packed-as is her predecessor, Kenna.

Today I was trying to persuade Lu to lay beside me and nap, which she was having none of. I pulled out the old 'tell them a story and rub their back til they fall asleep trick'...and she requested the story of how I picked her in heaven. I may have mentioned this before...but I've done a very irreverent thing by telling my children how I traipsed through Heaven's rooms of precious angels and picked the very finest...for this trait and that trait. And they all believe me, at least until they are a bit older...so when telling Lu today the normal story, I added  the detail that her cute double dimples, on her pudgy little cheeks were proof of heavenly kisses farewell as she left to be my baby...

I love the wonder in her sparkly eyes...and the assured confidence as she nodded and said, 'of course!' Could those little dimples have come from any other source?

Being a mom is my best gig.

my missing piece....

I just love this time of year. I love the fact that the world as a whole is a little more receptive to the message that Jesus Christ is our Savior. I love that kindness is almost a reaction, that human nature is paused for a minute to allow for Christ-like behavior to step forward. I love that because of this celebration, my life is promised the gift of redemption. And peace. And hope.

And I love the childhood giddiness and anticipation for Christmas morning. I love watching the older kids transition from believing in Santa to a realization of what mom and dad have made their reality. I pretty much just love this season.

But I can't wonder why what I'd envisioned for this Christmas can't be? Nate keeps telling me he can't buy me anything, has no idea what to get me, that I'm so hard to buy for. Really? Maybe its because what I'm wanting isn't for sale. What my heart longs for this year is my missing piece.

A piece of my life puzzle that once I discovered, I can't believe how much its absence just hurts. I think people have forgotten. I can't. I miss her. I hate saying "....my five children", because I have six. But I assume people want me to get over it. I just can't.

I am sure I will struggle every day with the miserable knowledge that sweet, and spicy, little Dasha is never coming home. And I am blessed that the five children I have HERE are healthy and happy. I wonder where the line is between being ungrateful for the life that's mine and the heartbreak of disappointment and sadness over Dasha.

Its not like I'm asking for a fancy car, or diamond earrings. I just wanted another child, unwanted by most, to love and strengthen. That's what I want for Christmas...

Not much else to do...

Alright, its probably my fault. I'm sure that at some point, or perhaps MANY points, I have grumbled that I would love a little "me" time. Time to close the door and watch HGTV uninterrupted. Or to read a good, sappy book. But seriously, I take it ALL BACK! :)
I want to be up. I want to be back to rocking my fireplace. I want to chase my naughty children. I want to wash my own toilets. And, shaving my legs IN the shower would be awesome too(don't ask...it was an interesting moment...hopping to a chair, then the kitchen counter...then the sink).
Its funny, and a little sad, that you don't realize how thankful you are for the simplest of blessings until they've been a bit restricted to you. And I realize that my condition is entirely temporary(hallelujah, as climbing on the kitchen sink to shave is more work that its worth so I might challenge Nate to a hairy leg  contest instead).
I had my hip repaired last week. My goodness...I'm so thankful for technology and good doctors! I loved my doctor...a cute little Asian guy in Utah! My mother, who is the dang closest thing to a Saint I'll ever know...took time off work and joined me on the trip. We lolly -gagged through every store we wanted to on our first day there, as I didn't leave the motel after my surgery. My sister and her four princesses met us there and THANK HEAVENS. My chubby butt is more than my mom can handle. Cami had to lug me around those first two days, when my nerve block left me unable to even move! Sweet Austynn supplied me with plenty of hugs and worried concern, Raygon babysat me, Adds dished me minimal attitude and was my sleeping partner...and Reyce simply scrunched up her nose and asked me what was wrong with my face? a.k.a.  would I please wear some make-up :)
This last week has been boring and LONG. Nate cleaned his first toilet. Tomorrow someone else is cleaning them, cringe! I've had meals and treats every night from people in the ward. I've have play dates for Luis, cards in the mail and visits from friends(some of who have seen my hotness up close and personal now)...
I am not a sit still kind of person. But I have had a lot of time this last week to think about all the things I am eternally thankful for. So thankful for my Savior...who loves me when I don't deserve it, and blesses me in spite of my stubborn, onery self. The Priesthood in my home...by which Nate has given me blessings of comfort and healing, and thru which we are bound as a family forever. Because lets  be entirely honest, one lifetime with Nate is not nearly enough. After being married 16 years there is not a lot you haven't seen...but there are some things that are not kosher at any stage of marriage. We had a few of those moments this week :) Nate's funny, quiet smirk as he's babied my whining, tended my needs, and picked up my slack means so much. I love him. Seriously. And my kids...they've all been tender. Every one of them has spent time snuggled up next to me in my bed...Eli's the king at working my ice-compression machine...and the girls are my personal hair-combing, feet rubbing princesses! 
I may have thought it impossible to grow tired of HGTV before this week...and I've had to resort to other quality substitutes like "Extreme Cheapskates" and "Pregnant in Jail". Both of these shows are, well...lame. But if you are feeling like your life sucks, well, they're just the right medicine!
Looking forward to a week focused on gratitude and the great blessings that are mine...

Where is thy hiding place....

If I knew now what I do, would it change things?
I have always been taught that God is constant, and unchanging. And I believe it. I know it. I also know that He knows the end from the beginning...and as I consider this great power it makes me ever so certain that He is real, that He is mindful of me...and that His patience is AMAZING. There is no way I'd be able to do it: know what was gonna happen and be able to sit back and let it go, knowing it was not going to work. Nope...I would be so tempted to take the easy road; less heartache, more joy, less mistake, more progression.

I have a blessed life. I know God. I am certain that there are days He is unpleased with me. I am sad to realize how many times I must disappoint Him. When I watch my children learn and grow...and repeat choices that I disagree with its easy for my patience to falter...my temper to win. And yet, even though I can't see Him, I know He's not shaking his head, asking what the heck I'm doing? Its overwhelming to know how imperfect I am. And yet I know He loves me....despite it all, in spite of me. Thankfully, He's not waiting for me to deserve His mercy...and its extended to me daily, sometimes in quiet kind acts from friends...others in open answer to my prayer. I can not doubt my faith...it is the only thing that makes constant sense in my life. And I hesitate a little thinking perhaps you judge my church solely by my failings. I hope not, I'm a doofus.

I know my family will be forever. I have a husband who loves me. He works hard, plays a lot and loves our children perfectly. He demands their best and leads by example. There's no room to question where he stands, on anything. Its black or its white. He's fair, and respectful and I've never met anyone who lives their life as FULLY as he does. My children are blessed.

I have five brilliant children. Kinda naughty...definitely sassy...strong-willed....and determined. BRILLIANT. And perfect. I can't question that these feisty little spirits were saved for this day...to come to earth at a time when things are tough. There's NOTHING like watching them figure things out. There's no joy like their successes. And strangely, they are amazing in spite of my failures. Seriously...I'd pick these ones all over again if the need arose :)

I can see the Lord's hand in so many aspects of my life. So many. The unmatchable sunsets here...whisper quietly He knows me. The frozen trees remind me of the beauty in all things. There is one place I am grounded...and its definitely in knowing He's in control. Because I am definitely not.

My car wreck has been a bit harder than I think I ever expected. Almost 2 years later I have constant back pain...my hip is torn and requires surgery...and I have headaches that only are appeased by super uncomfortable, expensive shots in my head/neck every six months. My exercise ability is like 60% of normal...which is frustrating. And I'm grumpy about it.
We've made some personal choices...all by prayer...that have not be easy. That we battle every day.

One year ago tomorrow morning Nate and I boarded a plane for the desolate, cold destination of Vlad to meet our daughter. I can't even replicate the emotions I had. And now have. With what has happened these last 12 months I am glad I didn't know then what I know. Because I doubt my strength. I doubt my heart. I can't even think of my great sorrow in this experience without crying. Its beyond devastating...still. My heart can't quite extend un-tainted 'kindness' to the ones who out and out criticized me. I know I should, I just hurt too much still. We fasted...we prayed...we were LED to Dasha. She 'looked' like my child...she carved her tiny handprint into my heart. Why we were led to this place to have such unexplained sadness I don't think I'll ever know. 

It would be easy to let myself question God...to ask 'where is thy hiding place'? To be bitter. But I am not. I love God...and while I have not been spared the heartache that comes with experience...I recognize His hand always. It terrifies me to consider my life without faith. So, I will not doubt it. I will seek Him. I will try harder. I will see joy where it is.

My Eli Sam...

This kid has been an adventure from the get-go. And there are some nights where I've tucked myself into bed early from sheer exhaustion/frustration with him. And other nights where Nate and I have laughed ourselves silly at his antics. Then there are moments we watch his giant sized spirit and are in awe. While there are those within arm's reach that can't see this plainest truth, this kid is MOST like his daddy than any of the others: he is POWER packed. Heavenly Father must have accepted his small frame as a challenge and squished every ounce of possible personality, energy and determination inside.
A few weeks ago after sending him to bed early for a bit of 'unwelcome' behavior, I went up to tuck him in. I gave myself a few minutes downstairs before going in. He was waiting for me to snuggle, and his little eyes were so sad. He felt bad for his behavior! Yeah!!! As I rubbed the nubby little spikes on his crew cut and talked to him I asked him if he knew how much I loved his daddy, and why I loved his daddy. He didn't quite follow my questioning when he was expecting a lecture :)
I explained what things I adored in Nate: his kindness, ENERGY, enthusiasm, and go go go! Eli nodded his head as he recognized these traits in his dad...acknowledging that these things made daddy perfect in my eyes. And then asked my little man if he thought any one of my children was most like daddy. He was stumped...I then pointed out those same characteristics in him. And the sadness in his eyes was replaced by this cute little burst confidence, almost shy though. I love this kid...and he's going to be one heck of a man one day. I am ever so thankful he is mine.

So let me recount two of Eli's recent highlights:
1)yesterday I received a text from my brother's wife, a teacher at the school. Apparently Eli had flunked an AR test. For those who don't know what this is, its a reading program. Each book is assigned a point value, and after reading a child takes a quiz on the book. If they get all the questions correct, they get 100% of the assigned points. The kids are assigned a 'goal' at the first of the quarter to work toward. Eli's taking this very seriously this year :) Well, apparently the teacher noticed he did poorly and looked things over. She noticed the problem immediately, and questioned him TWICE. Nope, nothing looked weird he said. REally? Cause, he took it in SPANISH! So funny! When I asked him later last night how he couldn't have noticed it was weird, he said mighty cocky-like, "mom, I freaking read Spanish!" Of course you do. Of course you do.

2) Little monster has been begging me to come eat lunch at school with me nearly every single day off that I have. I've not gone. Until today. When I sat down and was waiting for Eli, a little girl who I basically know nothing about...I mean, its a small town, so I know who she is, her 'family' blah blah blah. But we don't do anything with them. We don't KNOW them. That said, this little child tapped me on the shoulder and asked me something I was entirely unprepared for: "so, is Dasha part of your family still?" What??? "Is Dasha still, you know, part of your family? Do you think she is?" My eyes totally welled up with tears and I said yes, yes she is my child still. Eli sat down and was totally unaware of this conversation. I kissed his head and silently promised to love this kid tonight. Because obviously his giant heart has been marked by this failed adoption too. And I've entirely not noticed it, largely because I'm still mourning myself. But I love this tender hearted crazy man...

...gotta prove to daddy that I'm not a fool....

Back to school! Back to school!

Yep, I'm singing it out loud today! My house is beautifully quiet! In a few days I'll miss the chaos that I enjoyed all summer long. But I have to mourn my loss for a few days. And, I don't plan to rush the process!

I love back to school pics. I love that they capture the giant personalities of my crazies. I love that they provide a measurable record of their growth: not just physical growth, but I can see the changes in their confidence, maturity and enthusiasm.

Alright...here they are. Back to school 2013

 Lu's version of standing still and smiling nice...

 The caboose of this crazy train has more personality than the others before her. I don't know how that's possible, since I don't have a quiet, plain Jane personality kid. But Landri is so much fun...she is a blend of all the others, benefiting and suffering from the tricks of her siblings! Can't imagine my days without her sunshine!

 if this isn't my 'Double Trouble' pic....

 Love my little sparkplug. If I have one kid that mirror's his daddy's energy and love of life...its Eli. Sure, the kid makes me crazy some days, but so does his dad! Kidding...sort of! Seriously love this little monkey.

 Yes, Avery is back to dressing in full fashionista mode. She has a sense of 'fashion' all her own, and I love that it compliments her little happy-going personality. She's a treasure, always happy and easy to please. I love knowing that her teacher will fall in love with her immediately, as she's almost impossible not to love! Grateful she's mine...

 Yes, hello sixth grade...and MASCARA. Be still my heart, why must we have to grow up? I love this kid. I could do without a little of her sassiness sometimes, but am also very aware that her little stinky-streak is what allows her to keep her standards. Her conscious(sp?) is so on the surface that it makes me giggle, and her constant reminders of what I need to do, when, make me bonkers. But I love this kid to pieces. She's a mini-me, and in her goals last night she rattled off that she'd like to start for the 7th grade bball team and get straight A's. And...I dare you to hold her back!

 My Bo-Bee...

 I am entirely looking up at this boy. He just took off this summer and I swear he grows every night. Perhaps placing his bedroom by the food storage room wasn't a good idea, as I'm forever finding chip bags under his bed. I thoroughly enjoyed Kolbe this summer. He has a calm, funny way. He is slightly dingy, like my mom. I look forward to this year with Kolbe...he smugly informed me this morning on our walk to the school that he's 'a big 8th grader....the kings of elementary' this morning. Oh, how I love that they have such cocky swagger already!

 my favorite!!!

 right where Lu belongs: toted by Kolbe and Kenna

Catch up...

We were a bit limited on our vacationing this year, as Nate doesn't have any vacay time with his job until Jan 2014. But we managed to get out camping  several times and I think the kids would still report that summer vacation was a success. And...really, I lOVED my time with all of them home all stinking summer, right up until last week! At that point their beloved swimming pool closed and the incessant chants of "we have nothing to do!" started and mommy's patience thinned. I took them all to the café yesterday for a back to school celebration(we all celebrate for different reasons, wink wink).  And this morning, its just me and little Lu, snuggled up under a blankie watching her favorite toons. It was her request last night, as she weaseled in 10 more minutes in my bed claiming to be 'so faweezing in my bed'.

I love this time of my life. I love the giggling of my children. I love their friendships. I love their stinky little bodies, still brown from summer fun. I love it all.....well, most of it! :)

my happily ever after....

Well anyone who reads this silly blog knows that I don't hold a lot back. I believe in TRUTH. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
And I can't help but get a little nostalgic this morning as I sit at the table and remember my life 16 years ago today. All of it.

I was 19. And scared to death. Oh sure, I was giddy excited too. I woke up at the horrific time of about 5 am and showered, loading all of my princess accessories into the back of my parent's vehicle. We were heading north, crossing the border. I was getting married.

Because not every marriage is a 'Cinderella Story', my parents were terrified. I had only known and dated Mr. Wonderful for a few months. They peppered me with questions of 'how much do you know him? have you prayed and fasted about this?' and when my stubborn 19 year old attitude would fight back, they'd recede their concerns, at least vocally. And the funny thing is, MY fears mirrored theirs! I just didn't tell them :) Now, before you get carried away thinking I didn't want to marry Nate...I'll correct you. He was nothing short of perfect in all our dating. And I loved him. But I can't even call those emotions I experienced 16 years ago 'love'.

In our faith we are given the opportunity for a Patriarchal Blessing. This is simply a blessing, offered from a specific individual who's been given the authority and privileged this calling. The blessing is different for every person. A Patriarchal blessing offers only some insight into your life, and promises of what happiness awaits a righteous life. Sometimes there is wisdom for trials we may face. Its directly a message from a loving Father to YOU. It can be very specific, or very general. Mine is the latter: its short. And one of the few tender messages within my blessing counsels my preparation in choosing a husband...the 'most important decision I will ever make in this lifetime.'
Despite my fears 16 years ago, I remember the day I prayed specifically to know if marrying Nate, so incredibly fast after we'd met, was truly as 'right' as I felt it was. And I remember the calm, happy feeling that immediately came. I remember the way I could just 'see' my life with Nate. And I knew. I knew that despite the jitters that were ravaging my insides...this was it!
I cannot express how many times I have been annoyed with myself for those fears long ago! Oh, man, was I blessed! These 16 years have indeed provided me an understanding of why selecting the right spouse is THE MOST IMPORTANT DECISION I WOULD EVER MAKE.
Because of this choice, my children have a father. He expects much of them, but is the first one to rush to their support in any and all things they do. His enthusiasm and pure love spills over into everything he does, and my children are evidence of that. In a world where families struggle, my children know complete security. Its not something they can appreciate yet, or at least vocalize, but I recognize the strength of this blessing. My children are led: our church released a Proclamation about the importance of families many years ago. In it comes the counsel that fathers provide, preside and protect. How perfectly my husband does these things. He is forever trying to make sure our family is provided for, temporally and spiritually.
So many times in the last many years I have been told, even publicly, 'wow, you did good Julie'. How I know this!
16 years. I can't believe I'm old enough to claim that, but I'm so stinking proud to do it! I have the best husband. He has been my source of constant. I always know what to expect of him, how he'll react, what he'll do and say in any situation. Its a huge strength to know exactly what I'll be living with from day to day. He is kind, and has never even raised his voice at me. He supports me in everything I do...he tolerates my stubborn streak. He is loud. He values those things that matter the most to me.
I am eternally grateful this man is mine forever! There is no way I could have ever imagined our life together on this morning, 16 years ago. I was thinking in very immediate terms. But now, with a little experience under my belt, I am dreaming of what the next 16 will bring!
I am so incredibly grateful this morning for the answered prayer of a scared 19 year old girl. And for the incredible life I've been blessed with!
Happy Anniversary to me!

FUNDRAISE this......

I've been struggling for some time now with the idea of this post. I've bounced around a whole spectrum of emotions...well, I suppose that isn't entirely accurate. I've never really crossed that center line at which 'happiness' or 'giddish contentment' ever existed. Mostly I stagger between anger, frustration, defeat and complete sadness.

So I'll preface this journal entry with this: June 25th my sweet baby girl Dasha turned 9. She celebrated the day in her orphanage, I think, all the way across the world. She had nothing of the hoop-la we dreamed of giving her for this occasion: her first real birthday. The first landmark of her time in a family. We envisioned cake, and ice-cream. Balloons. And swimming. Who knows what else. Instead of this, I struggled to keep my composure this day. I managed all my required functions, yet this day was NOTHING what I dreamed. I ended up tucking myself into bed early that day, not saying a lot to anyone. I mourned alone, because my handsome husband of 16 years can't remember the birthdays of our biological children, much less Dasha's yet.  I don't really even know where she was. But I'm fairly certain there was no cake. And damn it, there was NO me. This is a cruel fact that haunts me every single day. Part of my heart will mourn this child for the rest of this mortal life. And, perhaps naively, because I've never experienced this, it seems harder than death. Because that at least is certain. I have no idea what my daughter will endure for the rest of her life. But I am certain on what she will miss. And it breaks my heart just considering it.

The decision to add Dasha to our family was a BIG one. We knew from the start she was meant to be ours. And so, from now until we meet God, and hopefully then beyond, she is our child. Our decision drew a bit of talk. Some people thought we're nuts with the 5 kids we have. Newsflash: WE ARE. But, we're happy, and headed in the right direction. Some days seem more of a straight path than others, and some prove to show very slow progress. But, we are an eternal family. And this is the life I would choose EVERY SINGLE TIME all over again. I love my husband and my children eternally. They are evidence of a loving God, who loves me so entirely that I have been given just a brief glimpse of eternity in my daily life. (I could write a column for 'Mormon Housewives' no doubt...) But I am truly blessed. And I know it!

I can honestly say when Nate and I conceived our 5 bio kids that no one reading this was a part of that decision. It was ours. Ours alone. And the adoption of a foreign, special needs child into our home...was just the same to us. It was our decision. Ours alone. Sure, excitement from our friends and family was a bonus...in the same manner that criticism, whether masked as 'good-intentioned concern' or not, was incredibly painful. But we know that this girl was/IS our daughter. Prideful men have ensured that she won't be in our arms for who knows how long....maybe her mortal life. Its something I can barely consider......sanely.

That was my PREFACE.

This is what I really need to say.

The cost of bringing Dasha home was going to be staggering. One visit in, we had pre-paid all our in country fees, all our agency fees...registered her to be a citizen, expedited Visa's...and our total was over $20k. We fundraised a little, with a garage sale and ipad auction. This was always uncomfortable to me, but it was something we agreed to attempt because, well, the grossly inadequate estimation of $50,000 was something we had no idea how we'd come up with. We plumaged our retirement accounts....an action we've yet to suffer for on our income taxes. That blow will hit next year...when we thought we'd have an adoption credit to offset it. I estimate it will cost us over $8000 in tax, just on our federal tax return. Why am I being so upfront? Because, there are those who think they have a right to spread ugly un-truth's about our finances. So, I will humbly offer a few details here.
The money we fundraised...totaled about $4000. Big chunks of it was written in checks to our Reece's Rainbow account. Just over half was cash. This money was used to pay for our visas...which were ball-park $1500. We also paid for our USCIS applications, which were just shy of a grand.
We have over $13k dollars remaining in Dasha's adoption account. Which, really isn't hers anymore. Because she's unavailable for adoption. But these funds are absolutely, with no exception, UNAVAILABLE to us, shy of pursuing an additional adoption.
Do the math. If you see what we've invested thus far, strictly financially speaking, you can see the fundraised money was a huge blessing, but by no means the largest source of money in our account. Forget the details...but its our retirement money.

A few months ago we refinanced our house. It lowered our house payment $200 bucks. Wahhooooo! It also allowed us to replace the rest of our windows and doors, which were original to the home and in terrible shape. We loved having warm windows that prevented the curtains from dancing in the breeze. We are in the midst of replacing our bathroom, because there is a leak behind the shower and there is some mold. Its a project I had on my 'dream' list for the house. But I'm fairly responsible financially...so it wasn't anywhere near a reality simply based on aesthetics. We also are having to tear out our fireplace. There is sheetrock behind the rock...which is starting to burn. We saw the heat lines. They're scary. We'll put it back together so that our fireplace can continue to induce the oh-so-welcome 80 degree temperatures we love! Oh sure, like the bathroom, its gonna be soooooo pretty when its done! Both projects are need based however.

But there a rumblings that I'm using my adoption money to finance all my home repairs. And while I have been sorely tempted to address all my frustrations publicly, I'll stop with this: It is entirely shallow, and ugly beyond explanation, that this has happened. We refinanced our house. We also recently sold our nicer car to pay for the other improvements. Not ONE PENNY of our adoption money has been used by us personally. If you prove to be an intelligent person, you can see for yourself that we way more than spent our fundraised money on the adoption of Dasha. Oh, I forgot more personal information you're obviously entitled to: our camper. Yep, we bought my uncle's camp trailer last summer. With our retirement money. Yep. We took out less than the average family spends on one vacation...and figured we'd never have money again...might as well take out a little more than we were using for the adoption and buy a camper where we can spend our summers like the Clampits...together. I've got a cleared check to prove it.

I have no regrets in any of the choices I made over the last 18 months...at least the ones you're reading about. The only part of this heartbreak that will remain a mystery for all of my readers now is how many nights I will continue to stare at my ceiling...wondering exactly how this was God's will. (That's another blog...I know its not His will, rather the action of men). But for those of you who've wondered...how I'm squandering your hard-earned money to lavishly upgrade my house...hopefully this is one mystery solved.

It personally makes me beyond mad that these rumblings existed...but more than that, I'm sad. Which seems to be the lasting experience from this whole adventure.

Back to it....

I have been 'telling' my children that work is part of our purpose on this earth every.single.day. of their lives. So why is it they avoid this task like its the sure-fire end of their lives?
I've been creative: awarded cleanliness. Assigned piggy points that had attached consequences. Gotten Cranky. Lots. And none of it is working. Cutesie chore charts...spinners on the fridge. Prizes. Demands. NOTHING WORKS INDEFINITELY.
My children have gotten used to the idea that mom is their slave. And, I have WAY too many of them for that to be a good thing. Besides, I'm a believer that kids should work right along side of their parents. For, one day, they'll be running their own ships...with monkies of their own. And...like Adam learned when he was booted from the garden...every single thing we get in this life comes by the sweat of our brow(or Obama's handouts....-sorry, couldn't resist). How can I fail to teach this most inherintely important concept???
Now, honestly...this is pretty cyclical at our house. At some points they do their chores(never happily) but they do them. And now we're definitely on the down swing of this cycle. And I'm so so so frustrated. Not angry. DEFEATED. Its my JOB to teach them. And...I can't seem to figure this out.

So...I've instuted a new law. Its called: THE LAW OF THE PIG

IF YOU LIVE LIKE A PIG....YOU WILL EXPERIENCE HIS FREEDOM.

Now...the premise is simple. If you want to trot around freely....roll in your mud periodically...and live the good life....WORK.  No more asking for help. Its an expectation in this house. And ALL freedoms hinge on the expectation being fulfilled.

Cable tv. WII. Friends. All of it.

I'm thinking tv is leaving us anyhoooooooo. I may die without HGTV, and Nate SURELY will die without ESPN. But there is a peace in our home when the background noise is laughter from a board game, or teaching Landri a ridiculous dance move.

So, no more cranky mom. I refuse to be so. But the kids have been warned: THE LAW OF THE PIG is firmly in force! Freedoms are entirely contingent on compliance.

Here is to one sparkly, peaceful, happy-filled life.

Bo-bee Binners

At what point does my handsome Charlie Chuck Cheese Bo-bo Binners outgrow the cutesie nicknames? Hopefully NEVER. In fact, this kid answers to Bo and Bin almost more than he does his real name...which, is a perfectly nice name....just not what rolls off my tongue!

Kolbe turns 14 in a month. And I can't believe it. This is one good kid. He has a glitch here or there where his patience snaps for 'annoying' brother and sisters...but this boy is such a blessing. I am watching him grow up and I'm experiencing a blender of emotions. Sad...cause, well, that means he'll eventually leave me. I am proud: he is kind, and mature(as far as a 13 year old can be :)  and he is always rolling on the floor letting his little sister climb all over him. He can't quite ever be bothered by Luie...he just chuckles at everything she does and melts when she says, "ohhhhh, I just love you so much Bobee."

As I watch him grow, I'm excited to see how big he'll be. I mean really, the Pitcher blood has sort of inhibited any chance of my children being 'big'....but from day one Bo has been a big kid and he seems to be continuing to grow. He's passed me now and is gaining on Nate. His feet are size 10, which has Nate all kinds of excited. Size is a dream!!! 

I told Nate after watching the last track meet that I was so excited, I could really see myself becoming one of those obnoxious track moms! He is doing so good, and its fun to watch his head LITERALLY grow with every positive accomplishment. Now, I don't want a cocky kid...and be warned, I'll happily humble him should he get there...but some swagger is healthy! There is something so fulfilling about watching your child figure out that he's capable of something....and...something uncomfortable about

watching them shy away from things they aren't excelling at. And...its a bit of both. But hopefully the swag from success carries over and allows him to push through things he isn't top dog at.

He's always been my apprehensive...calm...routiine kid. He's never liked new things...and we have so enjoyed the journey thus far. He is my 'test' kid. I apologize  to him regularily that as my oldest...its a crap shoot: some of my tactics my work...some might not. I expect SO much of him and must remind myself he IS a 13 (almost 14) year old boy...

I hope this kid knows how much I love him. He is such a blessing. I really do know that God has big plans for him. I hope he forgives me for my flaws...and that we can figure this out together. Parenting is really the hardest...most exhausting...confusing task there is. But if they turn out like this kid: its entirely worth it! I am so happy that I 'chose this boy'....there's nothing I would rather be than his mom.