Lessons From The Laundry Room

I sit down to breathe for a minute, pausing in the space between loads of laundry. As I slowly exhale, I think of all the things I really ought to be doing, and, instead, I pick up my phone and start typing (my desktop is old and slow, and it is just easier to let my thumbs tap away on the small screen than to fight with aging technology). Also, the breeze on the screen porch is uncharacteristically lovely for August. I sit down, breathe, and write. 

I really should be upstairs. I have just begun to attempt to get my house in order (both my literal house and the one inside). I have finally reached a new place, something that has eluded me for the last two decades. I am finally emerging from the stage of life where I have babies who require my constant physical and emotional attention. My youngest is 4. And, I have begun by tackling my laundry room, a repository for many of the Things With No Place for the last several years. 

It occurs to me that this is the longest I have ever gone without a pregnancy since I was 26 - yes. A full twenty years. Seven babies. Many in close succession. No wonder I feel as though I have never quite caught my breath. 

So, for the first time in many, many years, I am able to savor real coffee during my mid-morning break, and get back to work, exulting in the rush of the once-forbidden caffeine. There are many, too many, piles that I have to sort through, I realize. When you are walking, zombie-like and besotted with deep love and sleep deprivation during those first months and years, the non-essential thinks get pushed to the corners. 

Only now, have I been able to muster the resources to begin to find my way, again. To sort through the dusty piles and put everything in its place, throw out the unusable, and clean out the corners. I never really understood exactly the toll that those years can take until I came through on the other side. If I can carry only one thing forward, with me, from this place, it is this... That there is always Grace. 

There is Grace in unswept floors and piles of forgotten laundry and never-ending mending. There is Grace in the yogurt stain on the wall. There is Grace in the dark hours of the night and in the heavy-lidded watch of late afternoon. There is always Grace. 

And, that, even now, there is Grace, for me, too. Grace enough to see me through that much-neglected laundry room, and beyond, to whatever the next thing may be. 

A Sunday Afternoon Tale

or

If You Ask A Mom To Take A Nap

If you ask a Mom to take a nap, she will tell you that she needs to wait 10 minutes so she can switch and fold a load of laundry. 

While she waits, 10 minutes will turn into 20 because dryers are slow.

When the load is dry, she will start another load and fold the last.

When she is almost done folding, a small child will request her presence in the bathroom.

When the small child finishes his business, he will decide to get dressed.

When he decides to get dressed, he will want to wear a favorite outfit. The mom will notice that the matching pants are not upstairs.

When the mom goes downstairs to look for the pants, the small child will decide that he wants noodles for a snack.

While the mom preparing the noodles (in a very precise manner as determined by the OCD child), the child will discover that there is CHEESE on the counter, and will request some of this yummy goodness.

When the small child is occupied with cheese, and is waiting for the noodles to finish, the mom will notice that a corner of the kitchen could use some attention. Let the cleaning commence.

When the mom finally dishes out the noodles to the small child, another child comes over to investigate the cleaning and offers to help.

When the child offers to help, he asks a million questions about where to put everything. The mom is, however, VERY thankful for the help, especially since some sketchy things were uncovered. Ewwww.

When the mom and the child have the corner under control, the mom heads back to the laundry room, to discover that the dryer has only 15 more minutes.

When the mom sees that she has a few minutes before another load of clothes needs to be folded, she decides she has just enough time to grab some Advil.

When the mom gets herself some water, the small child will want some, too, with ice.

And, instead of a nap, the mom might just wish that someone had offered her a drink instead.

**this may or may not have been my FB status earlier today**

Happy Sunday, and I hope you got a nap!

#onedayHH 2013

A day in the life... Documented in pics on Instagram.

On Wednesday, I joined Hollywood Housewife in her project to take one ordinary day, and capture it in moments with a camera, and post the pics on Instagram, with the hashtag #onedayHH. It was a pretty typical Wednesday around here, but I still got some pretty good shots - my considerable lack of skill behind the camera notwithstanding... *grin*

Here is my day.  One day.  One ordinary day.

It was so much fun to watch the days of so many people unfold, joined by the everyday-edness of the mundane, so much the same in the different permutations of the rhythms of our days.  And, I found, for all the ordinariness, it became something pretty extraordinary.  These moments are, truly, priceless.  They are not the ones we will normally remember...  No, they are the ones that we pass by, often in the rush to get to the next thing on the list, to cross off that chore, to answer those incessant questions, to clean up the never-ending mess.  Slowing down for one day helped me see the beauty and he holiness in everything we do.

If you want to read the descriptions and, perhaps, glimpse in on more snippets of my life, find me, and follow me, on Instagram at @kmcvey5.

If:GATHERING. Yeah. I'm There.

Something happened in my life today. Something amazing.  I was blessed to have registered for a ticket to an incredible event happening in Austin, TX this February -  If:Gathering.  I have been following Jennie Allen's thoughts on this since I first heard about it several months ago.  Her vision spoke to my heart in a way that I haven't felt in a very long time.  So many of the voices in the blogosphere that I follow were heading in this direction that I could not help but feel a nudge in my own heart.

My spiritual life has been, for too long, now, wandering through a bit of a desert.  I have not lost my faith.  Far from it.  I see everywhere how God's hand redeems and moves in the least expected and craziest of ways - it's one of the joys of where and how we are called to serve.  But, it's one thing to witness these things happening around you, but it's another to feel them in your soul.  Right now, I am planted in a place where I find it hard for me to be fed.  And, honestly, I struggle with that from time to time.  I realize that it's not about ME, but, it would be nice to find my soul lifted up every once in a while.  Those places have been few and far between, for me, in the last few years.  So, once I read about this movement, something in me leapt.  THIS is it.  These are my people.  This is my tribe.  I speak this language.  Lord, I need this.  Water, at last.

There were bumps along the way, as this vision took shape, and questions, as Sarah Bessey perhaps described best here.  Sarah gave voice to many of my own concerns, as I just don't quite feel comfortable with the Big Ladies' Conference model (even though I attended one a little over a year ago - mostly because Ann Voskamp was a keynote speaker).  Once again, as I read more about this vision, I found women speaking my heart.  Growing, pleading with the Spirit, listening. Women with shaking hands and voices, unafraid to grab a hold of the moment and be caught up in a Holy Rush of a whirlwind, about to take on the world.  The more I read about what God is doing, here, the more in awe I am.  I am just a smidge older than the original demographic (20-40), but I was able to be one of the voices that helped change the conversation to show that this was a call that spoke to ALL women, regardless of age.  This is a movement driven mostly by the 20- and 30-somethings, but, I have felt a part of this since I first read about it.  Am I a little concerned about "fitting in?" Yeah.  A little.  But I think this is about more than that.  Jennie has been honest about her struggles with demographics, and branding, and the coolness factor, and I see, in her, a true desire to reach beyond All. The. Labels. and lead women to meet God and one another where they are.  Jesus was very good at that.  And, that is what this is about.  Sharing Jesus.  Praying.  Reaching people Where. They. Are.  Seeing God move, locally, in our own communities. Sharing the message of Hope and Joy.

Read more about what If:Gathering is all about here and here.

And, my friend Laura read my mind and wrote a brilliantly about this very same thing, including all the relevant posts I was going to link up, so you can visit her at In The Backyard to read more.

And, maybe, pray about starting or joining an If:Gathering Local event near you!  I am so excited to see what God has in store.  Join me, won't you???

Pardon The Dust

Thinking about doing some writing around here, again.  (No, really.  I know...) I'm also probably going to be messing with the blog design and stuff, so...  Stay tuned.

Your Secret Name Read Along, Week 1

I am joining Marla Taviano over at her blog for a book study of Kary Oberbrunner's Your Secret Name.  Every Tuesday, we'll be discussing a couple of chapters from this wonderful book.  And, yes, I know I'm a little late this week, but Joshua has been sick, and I've not been able to put him down long enough to get two thoughts together, never mind compose and type a complete blog post...  *sigh*  But I digress...  This week,  we read the Introduction, and the first two chapters.  Here are a few of my thoughts so far...

I have grown up with many names... My birth name, for sure, but also many other Given Names, as Kary Oberbrunner calls them.  Unloveable, Forgotten, Unimportant, Not-Quite-Good-Enough...  The list is long and unimpressive.  These names can define me, if I let them, which I oh-so-often do, or they can wither away in the light of our true name, the Secret Name by which God calls us.  For many of us, we go our whole lives without learning that special name God has for us, and we lose out on the freedom and power that the gift of a Name brings.  We become a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts, growing into that by which we are known.  Once we can still ourselves and learn to listen, and to accept, the new, Secret Name that God has for each of us, we can begin to throw off all those things that were holding us back from becoming who God created us to be.

This all sounds great, right?  Then, why is it just a little daunting to seek to discover that name for which we were born?  Could it be that it's just a little safer to stay with that which we know, those names which we wear like a faded t shirt or worn jeans, which are comfortable but ill-fitting? Why are we afraid to shed the rags and don the wedding clothes?  Because it is to a Feast that we are called, is it not?  My prayer, as I wander though this book, is that I may come to the place where I throw off the rags of my Given Names, and embrace the beauty and Grace of God's Secret Name for me, as I set my eyes on the work he has for me to do, and on the Feast He has promised those who serve Him.

1000 Gifts for Today

So many wonderful gifts to share today...

• the first clean, white, ground-covering snow of the season
• crisp, clear, still, sparkling air
• superfans and silliness at high school basketball games
• visits with cousins
• the pure joy of a simple BIG hill and new snow
• making birthday cake - from scratch
• the gift, 16 years ago, of becoming a mother to one of the most amazing girls in the world
• the warm, inviting scent of Indian food simmering on the stove
• letting go of *my* ideas of a perfect day and letting it happen
• being stunned and awe-struck by the beauty and complexity of my children

One Last Christmas

Sometimes, it isn't about the presents at all.  It's about Love.  And community.  And about celebrating Life.

This is a must-see video.  Just make sure you have tissues handy.  Matthew West, one of my favorite contemporary Christian artists, wrote this song in honor of a family who lost their little boy too soon, and the gift that his community gave to him just before he went to play with Jesus.



It is in moments like this that the Christmas miracle interweaves itself with Easter's joy.  The coming of the Babe that came to give his life, who came to redeem the suffering, the pure wrongness of the death of a child.  This little boy shouldn't have died.  It wasn't meant to be that way.  This certainly isn't what God intended for his parents.  But the gift of that baby in the manger reminds us that God so loved the world...  After all, He knows the heartbreaking soul-ache of this kind of loss.  And He gave His Son so that we might live, and so that, one day, these parents might be re-united with their child, and the world will be made new again.

So, as we celebrate the Miracle this year, let us all take time to ponder the Sacrifice, and be thankful, joyful, and overwhelmed by Grace.

And There You Go...

I made it.  I did it.  I completed 30 posts in 30 days, thus concluding another year's NaBloPoMo.  I hope to continue posting fairly regularly in the days to come, even though the festivities have concluded.  I must say that I have enjoyed the ride this year, although I didn't get the opportunity to post some of the things I had wanted to.  Too much craziness around here...  But that means that I still have some things to share, so I hope you will continue to read.

Thank you so much for playing along.  I have enjoyed it.  So stick around...  I promise to keep writing.  And, hopefully, I'll have something interesting to say, once in a while.

Thanks for reading.  I appreciate each and every one of you.  Even if there's just ONE of you.  So, come back tomorrow.  I'll still be here.

More 1000 Gifts

• a five-year-old who LOVES to vacuum with the borrowed Dyson
• a feast of abundance and thanks
• leftover pie
• homemade whipped cream
• the warm, savory scent of turkey stock simmering on the stove
• "gravy planes" and other assorted silliness
• grown-up talks with daughters
• the expressions of baby's first tastes of food
• anticipation of he season's first snowfall
• planning for Christmas baking
• planning for Christmas presents
• reflecting on the meaning of Christmas
• being thankful for Grace

Celebrate the Season - Advent Begins

Today marks the first Sunday of Advent, the four weeks leading up to Christmas.  It is a time of preparation, a time of waiting, when we quiet our hearts and await the coming of the Christ Child.  We contemplate the sacrifice, the gift, of Love that was poured out for us that first Christmas morning so many years ago.

And, this year, I would like to share something wonderful with you - something I hope will bless you in a special way.  Ann of A Holy Experience has graciously shared a labor of love for this season.  Please, PLEASE, visit her blog and download a copy of her Jesse Tree Advent Devotional.  It is meant to be a family activity, leading up to and preparing the way for us to celebrate the coming of the Baby Jesus.  Ann's grace-filled words and gentle meditations will bless you and your family as you journey through these chaotic few weeks, and hr devotions will help your family remember the Reason for the Season.

Ann's blog has blessed me beyond words, encouraging, searching, and speaking to my heart.  She has a gift, and she is sharing it with us.  What a blessing she is!

So, please join me in this journey of hope and expectation.  And may your Advent be blessed!

Randomness for Saturday

Almost spaced posting today, so here is a bit of randomness to round out your weekend...

• It's nice to live where it gets cold enough to use your back porch as an additional refrigerator.
• It's not so nice when a child spies a critter attempting to nom the pumpkin pie.
• The hue and cry when children discover said critter is an adorable long-haired tortie is tremendous, and
• Certain of these children will beg to leave food out just in case the poor kitty is homeless.
• Heartless Daddy will inevitably veto this idea.
• Mommy will secretly hope that itty bitty cute kitty will return.
• I have eaten entirely too much food this weekend.
• My Advent Wreath is still in the basement.  *blush*
• I can't believe I'm almost done with another NaBloPoMo.
• I can't believe my first baby turns Sweet 16 one week from today...   *sniff*

And, on that note, I'll head off to bed...  Enjoy the rest of your weekend, dear reader!

Looking Forward

I've been doing a lot of reflecting, a lot of looking back, in the last few days.  Today, I am beginning to look forward.  As I gaze around my house at all the fall and harvest decorations, I get a little (okay, more than a little) nudgy that I need to take everything down and re-decorate for Christmas VERY soon.  Yes.  Christmas.  I know that many of my friends have already begun the transformation in their own homes, but  I am not usually that organized, together, or ready to get all Christmas-y before now.  We usually like to get our December birthdays out of the way before we go all out, although, as Sarah has gotten older, she doesn't mind the crossover of seasons, so I have actually started decorating at the very beginning of the month, instead of waiting until mid-December.

But this Sunday heralds in Advent, the new year in the church (for liturgical churches such as ours).  And I need to begin to move my heart towards Christmas, towards the celebration of the Christ Child.  So, as I begin to pack away the pumpkins and the golden leaves and the cornucopia, I quiet my soul and turn my thoughts towards the manger.  As I unpack the Advent Wreath and the candles, the greens and all manner of sparkly things, I also begin to prepare my heart for the coming season.  For the wonder of it all, for the gift of new life, for the ultimate sacrifice that lay, wrapped and tiny, in a stall.  I look forward to Grace, to God made man - the ultimate miracle.

And I quiet my heart, and prepare to wait.  Amen.  Come, Lord Jesus.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The turkey has been gobbled up, the mashed potatoes ravaged, and the remainder of the meal put to rest, our bellies topped off with pie.  The little ones are snugly wrapped in sleep, and the house begins to quiet itself for the night.  It has been a day of plenty, a day of abundance.  In a world where so many go without, we feast.  We are blessed.

Blessed.  

I have so much to be thankful for.  Not just the basics, the things we take for granted - food, shelter, clothing, and all matter of modern conveniences...  But security, hope, and, most of all, love.  I am surrounded by love.  The love of a wonderful husband, who puts up with far more from me than he ought. Seven precious children - there are few people who are blessed to be the mother to such a large brood.  It is truly a gift that I cherish every day.  Friends - far and near, on-line and in person.  Love.  I am surrounded by love.

As we tell our children the story of that First Thanksgiving so many years ago, I hope that I can somehow convey the passionate love and gratefulness that burned within the hearts of those first settlers - our ancestors, and that I, like them, may never take the simple things for granted.  And, that I might hold dear the things that are really important, and never forget.

And be grateful,  Those who sat in communion at that first great American feast knew Who was responsible for their bounty.  May I also, with the honest zeal they showed, give thanks to God for everything He has given me, every moment of every day.  And, like them, celebrate extravagantly in all His blessings.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Pie day

Or, Eat Dessert First

Today, tradition, in my family,  holds that we make pie. And, so I did. Apple, bourbon pumpkin, black and blue mango, and chocolate silk. The kids kept asking if we could eat the pies today Because, after all, it is Pie Day. And for a bit, I actually entertained the idea. The smell of warm crust and sweet fruit overwhelmed us with their heady aromas, and temptation had our mouths watering.

But reason prevailed, and the bounty of the dessert table will wait another day.  So, I set my thoughts on tomorrow's feast, preparing my heart to rejoice as I count yet another year of blessings graciously bestowed to me.

And know that tomorrow, there will be pie.

Counting Down the Days

Thanksgiving preparations are beginning in earnest around here.  We've got most of our shopping done (shocking, I know!!!), and the house is on the way to being presentable.  The family room, I discovered, has berber carpet.  *ahem*  And Joshua is amazed by the spaces he now has to practice his new skills of crawling and cruising.

Unfortunately, the kids seem to have been hit by nasty germies this week.  Boo.  We are hoping and praying that it doesn't go any further than viral crud, and that everyone will feel more-or-less okay for the big meal, and that we can all rest and recover over the weekend.

But, here, in the waning hours of the day, I find myself struggling.  I am struggling with all the busy-ness, with all that needs to be done, and with my complete and total lack of ability to get it done.  Mostly, I have spent the day praying...  No, that's not the right word...  Begging.  Yes, begging for Grace.  As I see, in my mind's eye, all that needs to be done spiraling out of control, and things being forgotten or half-done, I get all frazzled trying to keep it all together.  And it's just Thanksgiving dinner for our family - we're not even entertaining!

I need Grace to show me, to remind me, that all that I really need is to be thankful.  To come to the table with a heart overflowing with gratitude and praise.  Why, oh WHY, is that so hard?  My voice has been raised far too many times today, out of sheer frustration at my own failures, rather than at anything anyone else has done (or not done).  I need Grace to simply remember, to breathe.  To let go of the perfection, and just be thankful for all the blessings I have.

Because, you see, I am blessed beyond measure, and for that, I am truly thankful.

My 1000 Gifts, Continued...

• the voices of children raised in holiday song
• the ritual of hair cutting
• remembering to stop and take a breath
• oatmeal chocolate chip cookie dough
• watching the weather change
• praising Him for all the little blessings
• third birthdays and a pink princess
• homemade birthday cake, decorated by hand
• a small girl curled up, asleep in surprising places
• kitty kisses
• the true beauty of a Kitchen Aid mixer
• my favorite coffee mugs - a wedding gift - 19 years of warmth
• relying on God's provision alone

Gearing Up

This week is going to be crazy-busy.  I'm not sure, exactly how everything is going to get done, and part of me is just waiting to see which big thing falls through the cracks.  Not to mention all the small ones...  But, through it all, I am going to make a really honest attempt o be thankful - to truly live my gratitude this week.

As the season of holidays and celebration approaches, won't you please join me in remembering the true reasons we celebrate  - thankful for all His blessings, and mindful of the One True Gift...  And always, always, thankful for Grace.

Hannah's Birth Story - Reposted, with pics

Here is Hannah's birth story, as I posted it three years ago.  Wow - has it really been that long???  Happy Birthday, Sweet Girl!  Mommy loves you very much!!!


We had just gotten into bed about 20 minutes before, and I felt what I first thought was a big kick, Except that it also kind of went "POP" on the inside. So out of curiousity, I went into the bathroom, and lo and behold, there was a gush into the toilet. So I walked back over to the bed and told Brian - "Don't go to sleep yet - I think my water just broke." He had JUST started to snore...

So at about midnight I called the MW to let her know I was coming in. The ctx were coming about every 6 minutes, and were stopping me in my tracks. By the time we got to the hospital (15 minute trip) they were 4 minutes apart. Went to the ER to be admitted, and from there to a triage room in L&D. I felt awful by this point, The ctx were basically one on top of the other, and I would get a break only about every 3-4 ctx. I was 5cm and 80%, 0 station when they checked me, which kinda upset me, b/c I thought I'd be further along than that, b/c by now I was shaking - you know, like how you get during transition. So the MW finally gets there about 20 mintues later, and when SHE checked me, I was 7 with a tiny bit of lip. Wow. So she sent the nurse to the tub room to start filling it for me.

Oh - and while all this is going on in triage, Brian has to disappear several times back down to admitting, to re-fill out all the paperwork, b/c they apparently lost the stuff that I sent in. And the girl at the desk couldn't read or spell, b/c he kept having to go back down to fix mistakes. It took them 3 tries to get our name spelled right - which was a continuing theme of the night. Had to have our bracelets redone 3 times.... But I digress...

So I finally get into the room, and get into the tub. Ladies, I HIGHLY recommend laboring in water. O.M.G. It was the best thing EVER. (Of course I've never had an epidural, though... ) I started out just sitting. But the MW kept telling me to listen to my body, and I eventually got down into a squat, kind of leaning on the side of the tub. It was just the most absolutely wonderful thing to be able to move however I needed to. So completely different from any of my other labors... The water was warm, and just soooooo relaxing.

The MW wanted to check me - she could tell I was getting close, and I asked her to check me before I got out of the tub. Didn't want to leave my tub... So she did, and said that I just had one little bit of lip left. She thought I should get out and push, and that it wouldn't take too much.

So I did. I got to the bed, and didn't even bother putting a gown back on. She told me to find a comfortable position, so I got on my hands and knees, leaning on the head of the bed. And slowly started to push. It was all on my own time - no counting, just me bringing her down. Now, this is where it got bad. I have this nerve bundle that goes wacky when I push. It makes my right butt cheek cramp, and my right foot go numb. And it hurt MORE to push through that pain than to actually push the baby out. So I kept having to stop, and wait for it to get bearable. She was actually crowning when I had to stop. I waited through 3 more ctx, slowly grunting little pushes, until she was right there, and I could finally push through it. 3 intense pushes later, and she was born, with me still on my hands and knees. And I didn't tear. AT ALL. Almost 9 pounds of baby, and an intact perenium. I love my midwife... And it was wonderful to push her out that way. Kinda strange looking, I imagine, but it worked. They passed her up through my legs, and I flipped over, and I got to cut the cord. It took her about 10-15 minutes of her just sniffing at my breast, but then she latched on and nursed for about 20-30 minutes. Her APGARs were 8 and 9, I think.

It was the most wonderful birth experience I could have ever asked for. First and foremost, it was FAST. 2 1/2 hours, start to finish. Love that. My MW was great. No IV, pain meds, or interventions. No complications. No back labor. And no tearing. It was truly a miracle.


I want to thank each and every one of you for all of your support, prayers, and PTs throughout this last year - through the miscarriage, my pregnancy, and now, this miraculous birth. You will never know how much it has all meant to me. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart. You are the best.

 I cannot believe how fast the days have flown by.  It seems like just yesterday that she was just this small.  Now, she's turning three, talking of being a princess and opening "pink presents."  I'll post pics of her celebration in the coming days.  In the meantime, I'll be enjoying these moments, caught in the whirl of pink, candles, presents, and joy.

The remembering begins...

Three years ago tonight, at just about his time, I was getting ready for bed, when I felt a POP.  And, not too much later, my 6th baby was born.  But that's a post for tomorrow... Tonight, I simply remember.

I remember the waiting, the anticipation.  How the passage of time alternated between where-did-nine-months-go and I'm-not-quite-ready-there's-still so-much-to-do.  I remember the heavy, ripe feeling of physically being great with child, and the amazement of having done this a sixth time.  I remember the impatience of everyone else to get on with having the baby (we've got a holiday to plan, after all), and my own willingness (stubbornness?) to be still and wait.  And wait.  Four days after time was up I waited, patiently.  And I remember the hopes and dreams...  The wonder, the joy, and the trepidation.  And the awe.

On the eve of my daughter's third birthday, I remember the gift - the most precious gift I have ever been given.  The gift of becoming someone's mother. ♥