Walker Dog

My dad's dog, Walker, passed away two days ago.  Walker arrived one year after my parents moved in to their lake house, actually, while we were living with Mom and Dad for a couple months while relocating to Brandon.  I remember encouraging Dad to take the dog in, saying, "Dad, you need him!"  Walker really chose the lake though, sun bathing that summer and posing such a perfect picture of contentment in Dad's yard that he did, of course, take him in.  My Dad wrote the following tribute to Walker.  I added a few photos taken by myself, Jimmy, and the last taken just a month ago by my sister Susan.

                                                                   WALKER

        I buried him by moonlight and suppose that was right and fitting for a hound that loved to run the woods by night.

        Walker would not be confined.  There was something in his spirit that defied all fences.  He was a close and faithful companion, yet at the same time fiercely stubborn and independent.  Walker was a survivor.  He came to us as a stray about nine months of age and managed to live fourteen years as a free dog, avoiding trucks and cars, capture (although I did pay a one hundred dollar ransom to get him back one time), alligators, snakes, food poisoning, and who knows what else.


     
        Walker spent a day (22 hours) in the trunk of our car, quiet and content as I drove the same car out looking for him, windows down whistling and shouting his name.  Only when he heard me getting on my bike the next morning to take lost dog flyers to the neighborhood did he utter a sound.

        The dog truly enjoyed travel, by land or sea.  When I allowed him to ride in the cab of the truck he sat up and seemed to be reading the billboards and roadsigns.  I've never had a better first mate.  Walker was a salty sailor and knew exactly when to head for the high side as the breeze came strong. He made the entire lake neighborhood his domain and all the lake residents came to enjoy Walker.  He was brave to the point of stupidity.  When the pit bull, Tyson, from next door came into the yard among the grandchildren, Walker attacked and in a flash was on the back of a dog twice his size with a mouth full of ear.  Tyson lost that round, threw in the towel and sulked back home.


     
      In a dog, the eyes are everything, and hounds are the winners in the eyes category, Walker appeared to be wearing eyeliner all the time.  He had beautiful brown eyes that could smile, say, "Whatever," or make you want to cry.  Most everyone thought Walker was a "cool dog" and I think the eyes played a major part in his coolness.


     
         In his last five years Walker graciously shared his kingdom with our black lab, Abby.  It took a little time before she was accepted as a fast friend.  Abby will miss him.

         Walker was crafty, especially when he would dart into the house behind you before the door closed.  He loved comfort and I believe his dying wish was to sleep in the middle of one of the blue couches.  Sorry boy, that just wasn't to be.  He was an outside dog and that is when I will miss him.  It will take a while to not look for him every time I open the door to go to the shop or wherever.


     
God gave us a very unique creation when He blessed us with dogs.  They remind us of His faithfulness and forgiveness.

        I agree with whoever said, 'Lord, make me half the man my dog thinks I am!"

Dad and Pop
January 30, 2015

Saved by the Bell

I wish, when my kids said or did something funny or memorable, that I could freeze time.  That just like in one of those episodes of Saved By the Bell, everyone around me would freeze, and I would be  Zack Morris, and I could stare at the camera and pensively give my thoughts to the collective people who care about me and my kids.

But I'm no Zack Morris.  And I can't freeze time.  I wish I did, but I don't have the time it takes to write about every single little thing that happens.  But in an attempt to not forget these moments, I have begun a file on my phone and I type in funny stuff every once in a while.  So here are some quotes from around the house in the last few months.

Mom:  Guys, I need to talk to you about something.
Kid(s):  Are you pregnant?

And along those same lines, Libby gave me a list of reasons why I shouldn't have another baby...
"Number one, I don't want to ride around in a big huge van.  Number two, you just had a baby. Number three, it's too much. Number four, you just had a baby.  Number five, you just had a baby, and number six, it's too much."

Cash continually refers to Violet as a "sweet ball of heaven."

And more about babies...
Juliet:  Mom, why did God put a baby in your tummy?
Me:  He wanted to bless us.  The Bible says it's a reward.
Penelope:  Of course we are!
Jackson:  You're not acting like a reward!

In contemplating the Elf on the Shelf:
Juliet:  Mom, Santa Claus is a giant.
Penelope: The Elf on the Shelf can't teleport.  He must have camouflaged there.

Juliet asked quite a bit of questions about the sun for a while...
Juliet:  Mom, what happens if you go too close to the sun in a rocket ship?
Me:  Well, if you get too close to the sun you would burn up and die.
Penelope:  I don't want to be an astronaut when I grow up.  There's a ton of ways you can die.

Libby came in from riding her bike one afternoon and Penelope asked her where she had been.  Libby, with a completely straight face and without missing a beat said, "I went to fight a baby dragon and then I stepped on a unicorn and saved the princess."  I then of course asked Libby where she got that from.  And she said, with a straight face, "I made it up."

When we all go for walks or bike rides I am usually urging Juliet to keep up, to pedal harder and faster.  She goes at her own pace and one afternoon I just took off ahead of her, tired of waiting.  When she caught up to me she said, "Mom, you went far away from me.  I'm your daughter, you love me, you have to stay with me!'

For some reason Jimmy has been listening to Jim Croce.  This is one step up from repulsive, but my dear husband is 40 now, and I am trying to embrace him turning into an old man.  Anyway, he was playing his music around the house and "Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown" was on.  It was bothering me that it says "damn" in that song but I let it play through, choosing my battles.  The next day Cash was sitting at the table doing his schoolwork singing, "Bad, bad, Leroy Brown...baddest man in the whole downtown."  And then Penelope said, "Mom, is it "baddest man in the whole downtown" or "baddest man in the whole dumb town?"  Either one, kids.

Yesterday we built a fire and threw in the Christmas tree branches one at a time.  Some of them made some pretty big flames and Cash said, "Oh Natalie!"  I cracked up.  I'm pretty sure he meant "Whoa Nelly!"

And lastly, here is a note Penelope spent quite a few minutes on...using the auto fill words and cracking herself up every two seconds.  She saved it to my phone when she was finished.

Things your Real Estate Photographer "won't" tell you

I recently read one of those Reader's Digest articles...'25 things your doctor won't tell you." Although to me it seemed full of things all these doctors were actually very willing to tell, as they gave their full name for the article!

So here is my version, real estate photographer style...

When you talk to me while I'm taking photos, I probably won't do as good of a job.  While I don't mind chatting, it forces me to do two things at once.

When you keep telling me you'll move whatever you need to, I wish that you had moved it before I got there, so I don't have to wait for you to move it.

Clear your surfaces. Don't detail clean.  When you're worried about a little dog hair on the floor, but leave your toothbrushes all over the sink, that makes no sense.  A decluttered counter is more important than Fido's hair loss problem.

And while we're on dogs, please don't let them jump on me, bite me, or growl at me.  I'm here to help you.  Also, it's a good idea to move their food and water dishes and stairs they use to get up into your bed. 

And cats.  I hate cats.  They are notorious for being under a stool or next to a couch, and I don't even realize they're in my frame before I've taken 4 photos of them.  I have to shoo them out and retake the photos- sans cat. 

Please have light bulbs in all your light fixtures.  Missing bulbs make me look bad.  And I hate the new curly kind.  Glad you're doing your part for the environment, but they don't do anything for my photos.

I appreciate all the prep work you've done.  Believe me, I've seen it all.  If I don't have to step over laundry on the floor, yours isn't the messiest house I've been in.  It really makes a difference.  Thank you.

The cleanest, most staged houses out there will leave their toilet brush next to the toilet.  If your house is pristine, this sticks out like a sore thumb.  So please move it, because I hate touching it.  In fact I usually just kick it with my foot.  Another thing everyone forgets is the bathrobe on the back of the bathroom door.  It plays peek-a-boo in my bathroom photos.

I am aware of what an invasion it is to have me in every corner of your house.  But really, it's all in a days work for me.  I pretty much forget your house once I'm done.  Unless you have green carpet in your bathroom or strange artwork on your walls...

Don't be embarrassed that you threw all your stuff in the closet, laundry room, or garage.  I'm glad you did!

You probably won't like this one, but you're going to have to clean up your back yard and blow the leaves off your deck.  Toys, unwound hoses, old paint buckets, brooms, muddy shoes, gardening tools, all these things stick out and its hard for others to see potential in your yard.

I think flags or anything else kitchy on your front porch can be very distracting.  I'm trying to photograph your house, not your stuff.

When you're having to sell your house because someone died, there's been divorce, or you're in financial distress, I usually have been made aware of this.  I feel for you.  I try to be understanding.  But I still have to do my job.  Whether you are excited about selling your house or not.

The more effort you put forward, the harder I try.  If you have your best foot forward, I step it up a notch too.

We want the same things.  I want your house to look good, have a lot of interest, and sell quick.  The realtor who hired me will use me again!  At the same time, I don't get paid enough to spend all day with you.  So if I say something isn't worth changing or moving, it's not.  Let it go.

There.  Now I've told you.  Whoever you are.

Stop walking

Yesterday we got back into the swing of things with home school and I started back to work. It has gone fine. But it is very busy. Trying to stay on top of everything has brought me into a new place. A place where I don't take a nap. It is a sad place. But if you're so busy and have so much to do that you can't take a nap, then you don't really notice the lack of nap. Except when you start to feel really tired. 

There is a constant juggling of six kids needs. I am asked questions by more than one child at a time on a regular basis. I am managing quite a lot at once. I want to sit down and snuggle to read with one child but the baby needs to eat. I'd like to drop everything and make cupcakes, and suffer mommy guilt when I have to say no, because making cupcakes would probably send me over the edge. 

Tonight Juliet was talking to me and I was listening, but was continuing to clean up at the same time. She said, "Mom, stop walking!" and I must be honest, it broke my heart a little. She sees me in motion more than standing still. 

I love my life. I really think it's going pretty well actually. But having a large family is not for the faint of heart. There is a lot that is out of my control. There are a lot of details I've had to learn to let go of.  Things fall through the cracks sometimes. But we're all here. We're healthy and we're together. It was just me and Jimmy. And all of a sudden we are eight people. It is exciting, humbling, and kind of a slap in the face all at once. 

I am, by the grace of God, finding joy. These kids are hilarious. More fun than I've ever had. And I get to do it with my best friend. Blessings undeserved. 

I found this photo on my phone tonight. This is the kind of stuff my life is made of. Pure fun. 

Maybe in 2015...

Maybe in 2015 I'll renew my drivers license.*

Maybe in 2015 I will slay the laundry monster.

Maybe in 2015 I will get to take a nap.

Maybe in 2015 I'll make dinner.

Maybe in 2015 I will mop my kitchen floor.

Maybe in 2015 I will update my photo albums.

Maybe in 2015 we will eat kale.

Maybe in 2015 it will be quiet around the house.

Maybe in 2015 I'll remember why I walked into a room.

Maybe in 2015 I won't get pregnant.

Maybe in 2015 I'll blog real super writing and stuff.

Maybe in 2015 my kids will spontaneously begin to clean everything.

Maybe in 2015 I'll organize my linen closet.

Maybe in 2015 I'll get an award for best home school in the history of the universe.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Whatever.

Happy New Year from the J train!

*It's only been expired since 2012...

Jimmy's 40th

My love Jimmy turned 40 at the beginning of this month.  We had a birthday weekend extravaganza.  Jimmy's entire family was here.  His parents, brother Jon, and brother Gary and family who are visiting from Israel.  (They stayed for four nights and the cousins had tons of fun!)

We started with dinner out on Friday night, no kids allowed.  Except Violet, of course, because she's little and cute and doesn't interrupt your conversation.

Our good friend Christopher flew all the way from the Pacific Northwest to party.  Woot woot!

Saturday we hit the park with lunch put together by Jimmy's mom (who worked like crazy all weekend to make everything happen) and an awesome kickball game with lots of preschoolers, 40 year old men, and everyone in between.

Happy Birthday, Jimmy!  We love you!

Photos only post (12/1-12/18)

The Crazy and the Unseen

I know I have said many times here on the blog that my life is crazy.  I hate repeating myself, but life really is crazy.  I can remember back when I had three or four kids and I'd babysit for a friend who might have two or three.  And my entire afternoon would be filled with managing 6 kids.  I'd be exhausted that evening and would think I deserved all kinds of credit for handling all that for a few hours.  Now, that is my normal.  Managing that number of children all day, every day.  It's no one thing, it's just all the little things together that make for a constant low level of chaos.

In the midst of all the life going on around here are some really cute and fun and wonderful times.  My fear is that I miss these times because I'm too preoccupied with the daily grind...just keeping everyone bathed and fed and somewhat educated.

Today Cash asked me for a snack.  A simple unsurprising request.  But, on my way to try and catch a 20 minute nap, it stressed me out.  Whatever I find has to be enough for everyone.  And if its not somewhat healthy, I suffer mom guilt.  I didn't want to give him anything, but knew nap would be easier for me if they were snacking.  I told him I would pop him some popcorn.  Sighing, I got out the popper to begin the process.  As I was plugging it in he said, "Mom?  What's for dinner?"  Ahhhh!  It never ends.  There is always a dish to wash, a load of clothes to fold, a belly to fill, a diaper to change, a book to read, or shoes to find.

You know what?  I have no idea what's for dinner.  Ever.

"Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."  2 Cor. 4:16-18

I see a mess.  I see closets that need to be organized.  I see laundry, dishes, and dust.  But the unseen will be my focus.  The hearts and minds of these six kids.  The spiritual health of me and my family.  And Jesus.  Because I can't mother anything without Him.

Our Kitchen

This week I have been thinking about our kitchen, which in our house is the kitchen/dining room with the original wall between the two torn down.

We eat in this room.  We home school in this room.  We create in this room.  We edit photos in this room.  We listen to music in this room.  We pretend in this room.  We laugh in this room.  We fight in this room.  We color, cut, and paste.  We use play doh.  We spill things.  We trip over things.  We yell at the dog.  We get haircuts.  We play games.  We shave the dog.  We visit with friends.

It is where all 8 of us spend 90 percent of our time.  (Well, Violet spends a lot of time in her crib.)

We have 9 other rooms in our house.  We could choose to spread out.  Yet we always end up together in the kitchen.  The vast majority of learning in my children's lives takes place in the square footage of my kitchen.

When you are all together so much of the time, and your days seem to run together, time plays tricks on you.  Time seems to be slow one minute and racing past the next.  In my mind I know it is moving at exactly the same speed, but there is some kind of phenomenon that makes it seem to speed up and slow down.

Wasn't it just a few months ago that we came to see this house when it was for sale and talked about tearing down this load bearing wall to separate the kitchen and dining room?  My children ran around and Juliet sat in her infant car seat?  And today she is using scissors and writing and making jokes?

Time moves, and my children grow up without my consent.  It is maddening.  It won't be long and it will be a rare occurrence that all of us will even be in the same room.  I try to live in the moment and soak it all up because I know it is fleeting.  When I have the right perspective, I want the kitchen to last forever.  But in all honesty, it is a loud, crazy place that I prefer to escape sometimes.

May I love the crazy and choose to turn up the music of my life.  And embrace the kitchen for the wonderful chaos it is.

Dear Violet

Dear Violet,

Your first month of life has passed already. I cannot believe how fast time moves when you are watching a newborn baby grow.  We are ready for bed and you are asleep on me, but even though I need sleep I don't want to lay you down...

I feel as if I could hold your sleeping form on my chest forever. And that in doing so, time would stand still for us. And me and you, Violet, would become a statue in front of a building or in the middle of a fountain at a park. We would become worn by the elements. We might tarnish or chip or fade, but our position would remain. You, a newborn baby, and me, your mom, doing nothing but enjoying each other. 

People would see us. Some would walk by, not really interested in our bond. Some would steal a glance. But some understand us. They know we are knit together, mother and daughter, in every possible way. They would feel for a moment what we feel right now. 

I don't want to take a picture. I don't want a video. I don't want a birth announcement or photos posted into thin air. I want a huge iron statue of you and I,  as we are right now, sculpted in my mind forever, to be on display in my heart until the day that I die. I never want to forget the feeling of you asleep on my chest, your breath filling me with affection every rise and fall. Your features always beautiful, no matter your expression. Your being alone making my life more full. 

I love you Violet. We all love you. You are our daughter, our sister, our baby. You are welcome in our family. 

Forever yours,

Mom

Costumes 2014

Costumes 2014

Jackson: Captain Kirk (old school)

Libby: a Bride

Cash:  Spock

Penelope: Elsa (Frozen)

Juliet: Anna (Frozen)

Violet: a violet kitty

Elise (my niece who came to FSU this fall): inspired by Captain America - Winter Soldier

Joy has a color

Well, it has happened.  I am on the other side.  I actually delivered the baby.  Nearly a week late, but she is here.  When you click off day after day post due-date, you wonder if it's ever going to happen.  Your mind plays tricks on you and you truly begin to believe that you are going to be eternally pregnant.  But that's impossible (thank goodness) and it has happened and I am done.  The birth story will have to be told on the blog another day.

Currently she is asleep on Jimmy's chest while we enjoy the solitude of the hospital for a final night.  Although I would prefer my own bed, I am soaking up the quiet and lack of children and questions and chaos of our normal world.

The chaos of our kids descended yesterday and they were all SO excited to meet their new baby sister.  Juliet got to hold her first, since Juliet was a big sister for the first time.  She was very excited but the best part of Juliet to me was when she asked me to hold her.  She has missed my lap and my ability to hold her against my chest these last few months.  We happily had a lap reunion in my hospital bed.

The rest of the children held her, youngest to oldest.  They also brought me endearing notes and flowers.  They had mismatched clothes, dirty faces, and messy hair.  I loved it.  It was all just as it should be.  My wonderful dad had been waiting on me (for six days!) to have the baby so he could be THE ONE and be there for my kids while mom, Jimmy, and I were in labor.  I appreciated his willingness to wait and then be an amazing Pop-Pop.  Nice clothes and clean faces are totally optional.

Today Jimmy was looking back at some old photos of our last two babies, to compare the looks of these last three.  Trying to see who looked like who.  Because of this, I came across some old photos of our kids, some of me pregnant with previous children...and the immense happiness and blessing I felt was almost overwhelming.  (I am, after all, post partem and thus emotional now.)  My children are healthy, wonderful, amazing, and they just keep being more fun, more exciting, and more full of life every day.

This pregnancy was not fun, exciting, wonderful, or amazing.  It was challenging, hard, and miserable at times.  Yet God kept reminding me that I was full of joy.  (Psalm 16) I had a life inside me.  I was literally filled with joy.  I knew this, but because of the difficulties I felt this joy was cloaked in uncertainty, obstacles, and pain.  Cloaked in suffering, but still one hundred percent joy.

So her name is Violet Joy.  Violet is an interesting color.  It covers a range of emotions.  It is not a color clear in message.  But it is now.  Because Joy has a color.  And her name is Violet.