Chunnel

As you may be aware, we have chickens in our backyard.  We bought a coop that is supposed to be moved around the yard.  Technically it's called a chicken tractor.  We have done this every Spring through Fall for 3 years.  During the Winter we move it into our garden. 

The problem is that when you move it, you leave a day's worth of chicken poop on the grass.  It's never been a big deal.  We have had dogs that used to "take care of it" (sorry that's really gross!) but they are both gone now.  And before I quit my job, we never really played out there. 

Last summer Ryan and our friend Rob built the kids a swing set.  We used it some through the Fall.  Ainsley knew how to watch out for poop.  We tried to keep the coop a good distance from the swing set too.

And then this week, David discovered that we have a back yard.  The swing set blew his mind.  He loves it.  Especially the slide.  And so my fear of my kid sliding into poop resurfaced.  Or even worse, my kid picking up a piece of poop and eating it.  Oh the horror!

Enter the "Chunnel".  I know that's not a real word.  It's a chicken tunnel.  A Chunnel.  My friend Caroline had sent me a link to one about a year ago.  I pulled it out of the memory vault and just knew I had to build one.  The idea was all of a sudden brilliant!  It took 2 trips to Lowes and a quite a bit of work, but it's done. 

And it's spectacular!  It goes the full length of the outside of our back yard.  It even curves. 

It connects into the coop and gives them an extra 15 feet beyond that.

 

Before we let the chickens in, Ainsley had to try it out.  This is the last time she will ever be allowed in it!

Once we opened it up to the chickens, they began to explore.  It took them a bit to really go out there.  I was a little disappointed, but then they got it.  Pretty soon they were digging and running. 

The grass that's there probably won't last long.  But it's ok.  They will still enjoy the place to run and move around outside of the small coop.  And there will be no more moving of the coop.

After it was done and the chickens were happily playing in it, I let David come outside.  He went right to it.  He looked at the chickens and followed them down the outside of the chunnel for a bit and then just left them alone. 

Chickens and children in complete harmony with out the threat of disease!

 

The one downfall is that my hands and arms are now killing me.  I'm scratched and scraped.  I'm cut and bruised.  Metal fencing is no joke.

 

These cuts and bruises will last a short time and yet the happiness the chunnel will bring us will last way longer than that! 

 

 

Get Outside

Ainsley is an inside girl.  She really doesn't care if she ever goes outside.  At least that's how she used to be.  When I used to work, her nanny had 2 little boys who loved to be outside so she would go out and pretty much just sit there.  I never really minded this much.  I'm mostly an inside girl myself.  I prefer to be in the kitchen or on the computer.  If I had time, I would love to curl up on the couch and read a book (but who in the world has time for that!)

When David was born and he was indeed a "he", I knew my life as an insider was probably over. 

I have taken him outside some but taking a kid who can't walk outside is really just messy.  We have been to the park and it took everything I had to let him play in the sandbox.  But I did.  And he got messy.  And had to ride home in just his diaper.  But I did it.  And I was pretty proud of myself.

This past weekend was gorgeous!  Ryan and I took both kids to a local park.  While Ryan was up on the top of the playground essentially forcing Ainsley down the big slide, I was following David around.  Now that he's walking with ease, he just had a blast walking around all the kids.  I put him on the top of the baby slide and gave him a little nudge.  He literally squealed.  So I put him up there again and before I could even nudge him, he had figured out how to get himself going. 

 

 All that to say, that my time is now going to be spent more outside than I probably would like.  But that's ok.  Because to see this kid happy is worth every bit of it. 

Listening to him laugh and squeal as the wind hits his face or when he sees something in the woods (like 15 deer running by or a wild turkey chilling out in our neighborhood).

 

Seeing him light up and point as the school bus drives by..

 

Or maybe just seeing the biggest smile ever.

And frankly it's good for me.  And it was actually fun.  I think my inside girl even enjoyed herself. 

Don't Say Things Like That

This past Friday David had an incident with a hanger.  I won't go into the details, but it was gross.  I thought for sure we were going to the ER.  But he was ok.  And then he took a face plant on our train table.  But he was fine.  I was on the phone with my mom later that day and said something along the lines of "I can't believe we have never been to the ER with my kids.  I'm sure David is going to make us go there quite a bit"

David has had a fever and a cough since Sunday afternoon.  The fever has gotten high.  But it is responding well to medicine.  I still took him to the doctor on Tuesday morning.  He said that he was wheezing some but not enough to do anything.  The doctor wanted us to let him know if things changed.

By the afternoon, David was wheezing more and just generally miserable.  You could see his stomach heaving as he was trying to get air.  And his fever was just persistent.  So I put him in the tub to see if it would make him get any better. 

 

It just made him shake and get cold but didn't take his fever down.  I put him to bed and he fell right to sleep.  I told Ryan I was a bit concerned about his breathing and I was just going to call the doctor to see what he said. 

 

One piece of back information is that my pediatrician is very low intervention.  He rarely prescribes anything.  He is a proponent of letting the body do what the body knows how to do.  This is actually one of the reasons we love him.

 

So when I called him last night and he said that we needed to take him to the ER, I was shocked.  But I also knew that we needed to go.  When he jumps, so do we.  We dropped Ainsley off at Grandma's house for the night and off we went. 

 

It was a fairly easy experience. They gave him a breathing treatment and did a chest X-ray. He lungs were clear.  It was viral and we just needed to wait it out.  We were home by midnight with an inhaler and instructions to keep up the Ibuprofen. 

 

Serves me right to say things like that. 

Fear or Free

It's amazing to me how Satan can use just about anything in our lives to completely wreck us.  And that is just what has happened to me this week.

I learned last Monday morning through a friend of mine that a famous mommy blog's youngest child died of SIDS.  I had never read her blog before.  I had never even heard of her before.  And yet her baby was a month older than David.  (And for your sake, I am not linking to that blog)

There were a few things about this that absolutely wrecked me emotionally for the week.

1.  I didn't know that a baby could die of SIDS past 6 months.
2.  The baby was essentially the same age as my baby and looked like my baby and was doing the things that my baby is doing
3.  I am leaving my baby overnight for the first time this week for not just one night, but 4.

I have spent the week gripped in fear.  I have checked on him at night.  I have been worried when his naps have stretched longer than usual.  I was actually looking through pictures on her blog from happier days just last night.  It has consumed my thoughts. 

Everyone keeps telling me to stop looking.  But I just couldn't.  I mean he looked like David.  And David could die.  Have I taken enough pictures?  Have I written enough about him?  Does he know just how much I love him?

FEAR    FEAR    FEAR

In church today, our pastor preached on the Fall of Man.  I've recently studied this in BSF.  I thought I wouldn't get much out of it but I was excited to just be in church for the first time in 3 weeks.  As he preached, I could feel the presence of God come.  I'm not sure if that sermon was for anyone else but me.  I needed to hear it.

Essentially, I was being conned by the greatest con artist there is.  And I let it happen.  I let him start the conversation with me.  I let him change what I knew was truth.  David isn't mine.  He is His.  And I can't let this fear grip me. 

As he closed the sermon and the closing song was being sung, I felt the weight of the world lift from my shoulders.  I was no longer standing in the shadow of fear.  I was standing in the shadow of the cross.  Tears streaming down my face. 

FREE    FREE    FREE

There was another post from this mommy blogger this afternoon.  I read it.  But I was not wrecked by it. 

Thank you Lord for your love and conviction.

My Hands

I used to have desk job hands.  They had fingernails that were never chipped or broken.  They were pretty.  They even showcased a beautiful engagement and wedding ring.

This week, the wind was knocked out of my sales.  I found out that my replacement was promoted within 6 months of being at the company.  A promotion I never got.  Maybe that was because I was part time.  But maybe it wasn't.  My self doubt went haywire.  I went through a funk.  I cried.  I got mad at my husband. 

Today I wasn't really thinking about it at all when I was putting together boxes for our "side busines".  I had a lot today.  40 to be exact.  I was just doing my thing.  Taping, stuffing with newspaper, wrapping bottles, taping.  Pretty mundane stuff.

When I finished the 40 boxes, I looked at my hands.  They were ashy and dry.  Cracked.  Black from newspaper print. Fingernails all crooked and broken.  My rings were on my dresser like they always are except for when we go out somewhere out of the ordinary or to church.  Definitely not the hands of my old life.

And yes, my life is different now.  There are no hopes and disappointments of promotions.  But there is money in the bank from our side business.  There are 2 very happy children.  There is a husband who gets cared for much better. 

Overall, those messed up, tired, nasty looking hands tell me that my life if happy and good. 

My Snuggly Boy

It was one year ago today, that you came into my life.  I was scared of you at first.  You were different from what I knew.  You were the scary boy.

And slowly you worked your way into my heart.  Maybe it was the first time you peed on me.  Nope, that wasn't it.  Maybe it was the first time you laughed at your own fart.  Nope, not it.  Maybe it was the first time you pushed a truck across the room.  Nope, not that either. 

All those things were different from what I had known before.  But there is one thing that makes you different that really does melt my heart.  It's the way that you snuggle in and cuddle with me.  You love to be held and not just by anyone.  You love to be held by me.  In the beginning that meant a lot of baby wearing.

But then it was just being held on my lap.  Sometimes asleep.  Sometimes wide awake.  When you get fussy, I know all I need to do is pick you up and give you some cuddles.  You always stop crying.  

I know some day soon, I won't be able to hold you the way I do now.  You will be too big.  But I will always be there for snuggles and hugs.  I hope you never stop loving it.

I know I won't.  

Happy Birthday Snuggly Boy!

Harsh, Intimidating, Brutally Honest

Once again, I find myself in a situation today where I spoke before I thought.  My lack of thinking has caused someone else pain.  And now I am distraught over hurting someone I love deeply.

Unfortunately, this isn't my first time in this situation.  I am here too often.  I have been told by people that I am harsh, intimidating, brutally honest.  All of those things are horrible. 

And yet at the same time, I am incredibly sensitive.  It pains me so much when I hurt other people. 

I spent my entire teenage years like a wallflower, just trying to fit in.  When I went to college, I vowed to be more true to myself.  I told myself that I was just a strong personality and people could just deal with it.  And somehow that grew into this strong personality without a lot of sensitivity towards others.

And now that I am older, I find myself looking for a balance between wall flower and strength.  Somewhere there exists a place where I can be the strong woman that God created me to be and yet people in my path don't have to be hurt by that strength (or in this case, just a complete lack of thought and utter selfishness)

At the end of this day, after asking forgiveness from the one whom I have hurt, I can only come back to the cross and ask forgiveness from the One who paid for it all. 

Lord help me to be more like you.  Help me to love with my mouth, not hurt.  Help me to show mercy and grace instead of selfish sin.  - Amen