I’m getting lots done around here.

I made some diaper rash ointment for the boys yesterday in my baby crock-pot. I don’t remember who gave it to us when we married, but it’s the perfect size for my herbs and salves and tinctures. The four of us have pretty much out-grown it, though, and it never EVER was big enough to hold a whole roast. Back in my more primitive days, I once sawed a roast in half to wedge it in there.

That’s okay, though. In a step of faith that our family size will one day be worthy, I now own a 22-quart roaster. Did you know these work as mini ovens? You can even make bread in them. And they can also serve as a really large crock-pot for big families? One of these days, I’ll have three teenagers (or possibly even more!!!), Lord willing, and I have a feeling that the capability of making three gallons of chili at a time might come in handy! lol

I’m getting so much de-cluttered that it’s wonderful! I might actually get to some deep cleaning soon. Or even surface cleaning. I don’t like clutter, so cleaning is what gets pushed to the back burner around here. Who cares what the mirrors look like if I can’t walk for toys?

When I first came off of bedrest, it really seemed to stress my body to “do stuff”. Several times I had contractions 5 minutes apart for hours. At this point, things have calmed down to the point that “Hey, you want to work hard? Go for it!” and I might get them 15 minutes apart.

So, yes. It feels as if I could be pregnant forever. But, also, it’s lovely to get caught up and reign as Queen of My Own House again.

Last I knew, about a week ago, the baby was only a -3. I must carry my babies really high, or at least this one; because the little feet haven’t been under my ribs for a while now. It was kinda a neat feeling – and it was unique to this pregnancy. I miss it. I almost wonder if the baby is a -2 now, but I’m too nervous to hope. I go back to see my midwife tomorrow – I’m sure she thought I’d have this baby by now, but like I said, my body seems to have adjusted to the strain of going from comatose to active. It’s been the calmest week ever! *sigh*

Still, I trust God’s timing. And I’m willing to wait for it, really. That actually has something to do with why I’m due with another munchkin when my sweet Elijah just turned 15mo yesterday. His spacing, not mine. I do happen to think it’s delightful to be expecting a baby just when my last baby is suddenly becoming very Mommy-independent! Would I be as happy if I thought their spacing was just a fluke? Maybe, maybe not.

Of course, there are those that would say that he’s becoming independent because suddenly I’m not going to have the time for him like I used to; bosh! I’m with my babies 24/7. I do all the clothing, feeding, kissing boo-boo’s and wiping noses, singing, reading, counting, laughing, scolding, praising . . . they get a whole lot more of me than they would if I were working!

So, soon there will be three of them sharing me. Oh, the horror! But how many share one teacher in school? How many children share one day-care worker? Honestly, is a one-to-three ratio that dreadful?

Maybe it’s the close spacing that’s bad. Who can cope with three little ones pulling in different directions? But it’s closer to the spacing which is “ideal”, which is all the 5yo together, all the 6yo together, etc. It means they have very similar interests. Surely it’s somewhat easier to have one almost 3yo, one 15mo, and one newborn rather than 3 newborns, or three 15-month olds, or three 3yo?

Yes, no? These are just thoughts I ponder occasionally. Where do we get the idea that a young mother of three little ones is a stressed out mess (not to say I’m sometimes not) but that a child-care specialist with 8 of the same age is somehow more capable?

Here is an excellent blog that puts so much more into perspective than I can. From a mom of fourteen:

“. . . you may have gotten the impression that I think that having a large family has been the driving force in my life. This is so far from the truth.

The message, if any, that should be drawn from the testimony of who I am is this: She trusted God and surrendered, and it was good.”

Amen. That’s what it is all about . . . . it isn't about hitting a certain number of children. It's about letting go of my ideas and plans. Finding joy in God's design - surrender. Trust. Faith. Hope. The whole article is so good. You should really take the time to read it. I want to be like her when I grow up! *smile*

~Ashley~

Okay, so I'm tired of talking about the Baby That Isn't Here Yet. So .... here we go.

Here are my crochetted baby blankets. If I'm not spelling crochet right, that's because I'm a baby, baby beginner.

I had the boys run over and sit on the blanket(s) and smile for the camera.

Now, both of these are my own design. The pink one is SUPER simple. $7 worth of pink yarn from Walmart, and I went a row of single, half double, double, triple. One after the other, from one end to the next. Can you see the ribs? That's the double with me picking up a different loop. I did that by accident, decided it was cool and there I was. It went really fast. Without working on it every day, I finished in less than 2 weeks, I think? And I have maybe half my yarn left over!

The blue blanket is super soft and too stretchy. It's the one I made BEFORE learning I need to go down several hook sizes from recommended. See those neat, cute box-gaps? I skipped a stitch for those. I think that whole entire blanket is doubles and triples.

I'm not sure what I'm doing next, but I really like crochet.

Okay, does this make your teeth hurt?

I let Samuel put on the sprinkles. It was tough. If J hadn't encouraged me to let him make such a dreadful mess, I probably would have taken over and declared him too young. As it was, it isn't quite as bad as it looks. Really. We both ended up having a blast, once I relaxed and let the sprinkles fly. I'm glad Daddy was home to encourage me to do the right thing!!! They really are a cheap way to be together in the kitchen!

Here is a current picture of my baker's rack.

Notice anything missing? You know what those three, big canisters are?

From left to right, soft white wheat, white wheat, and red wheat.

We don't have "flour" at our house anymore. Just wheat. And a mill. And stronger arms and healthier digestive tracts and . . . . it's so cool. One of these days, that yellow canister will be full of whole yellow corn waiting to be ground .... and my life will be complete.

I'm so kidding about the complete part. Hahaha!

You can do so much with these three types of wheat. When you eat a French Breakfast Puff soaked in butter and cinnamon sugar . . . you can rest in the fact that at least it's whole wheat and you're getting tons more fiber than you normally would. Plus 10% less calories. Isn't that freaky cool?

My whole-wheat pancake recipe? Doesn't even call for sugar. And I've had no complaints. Can you beat that????

~Ashley~

I just read this and found it very deep and worth sharing:

"But if I see aright, the cross of popular evangelicalism is not the cross of the New Testament. It is, rather, a new bright ornament upon the bosom of self-assured and carnal Christianity . . .

The old cross slew men; the new cross entertains them. The old cross condemned; the new cross amuses. The old cross destroyed confidence in the flesh; the new cross encourages it. The old cross brought tears and blood; the new cross brings laughter. The flesh, smiling and confident, preaches and sings about the cross; before the cross it bows and toward the cross it points with carefully stated histrionics - but upon that cross it will not die, and the reproach of that cross it stubbornly refuses to bear.

I well know how many smooth argument can be marshalled in support of the new cross. Does not the new cross win converts and make many followers and so carry the advantage of numerical success? Should we not adjust ourselves to the changing times? . . .  And who but someone very old and very conservative would insist upon death as the appointed way to life? And who today is interest in a gloomy mysticism that would sentence it's flesh to a cross and recommend self-effacing humility as a virtue actually to be practiced by modern Christians? These are the arguments, along with many more flippant still, which are brought forward to give an appearance of wisdom to the hollow and meaningless cross of popular Christianity."

So, when was this written? Ten years ago? Maybe five? We're talking about entertainment, amusement, and numerical success. "Popular Christianity". That hasn't always been around, has it?

How about 1950?

This is an excerpt from God's Pursuit of Man by A.W. Tozer. He went to be with Jesus Christ in 1963 and even so, it sounds like he's talking about current times. Though I imagine if he had such to say about churches in the 1950's, he might be speechless for weeping today.

Just something to ponder,
~Ashley~

I say that very tongue-in-cheek. For one thing, I have two due dates. So while I'm 18 days out from the closest one, I'm 24 from the farthest.

The other thing is, I don't trust due dates much. My eldest was 9 days over. So, in theory, if my second due date was correct, and I went 9 days over with this one, I could be looking at a Feb 4th baby.

Not super likely, but I keep it in the back of my mind to keep me from getting too excited!

I suppose that a certain amount of pre-labor is to be expected. This is, after all, my third full-term pregnancy and I suppose it takes a bit for my body to warm up. At my midwife's appointment Tuesday, she said the baby was still -3. That is, in my humble opinion, discouragingly high.

Some say that the more children you have the more you walk around feeling as if they are just going to "fall out". Samuel rode low for a month. Elijah was that way for 3 days - then I had him. Honestly? This baby hardly feels like it's going to "fall out". I guess I'll keep waiting to see if it's true. Maybe I won't feel that way until #4 or #5 or #6 . . . or maybe people exagerate. Or everybody is different.

My guess is that everybody is different!

Outside of some hip/nerve/tailbone pain, I'm really doing fine. You know how many women have it harder than I do, that have to sacrifice even more than my petty discomforts to carry a child? So I consider myself fine. I didn't exactly go into this blind; under the mistaken belief that pregnancy was going to be the most effortless thing I've ever done, and would result in perfect children.

I have my house back, which will make the rest of my wait much, much easier. Jonathan is very happy to have me in control of the house again; actually I'm not sure which of us is more pleased!

~Ashley~

To set the stage, I'm in the shower. I hear the door open.

"Mom!"

Me: "What, Samuel?"

"Daddy get owie!"

Owies at our house usually involve blood. Or we don't make a big deal of them or call them owies.

Me: "What happened, Samuel?"

"Um, daddy cut!"

Me: "Daddy got cut? With what?"

"Fork!"

Which doesn't make sense. It's hard to imagine Jonathan doing much damage to himself with a fork.

Me: "A fork or a knife?"

"Um .... knife!"

And the door clicked shut. Leaving me with plenty of hot water and lots of unanswered questions . . . .

*******************************

I set out of the bathroom. "Honey, did you cut yourself?"

J: "I flayed my finger. Samuel, how many bandaids did daddy use?"

Samuel: "Five!"

J: "Five?"

Samuel: "Four. Four!"

J: "Boy, you aren't a very good eye witness."

Me: "Well, he told me you did it with a fork . . . "

J: "Two, Samuel. I used two bandaids."

Samuel: "Four!"

*******************************

And thus a typical day with Daddy home begins . . . .

~Ashley~