Giving Thanks

These are the days we will remember.

The novice Thanksgiving feast turned out to be better than I thought it would. Besides scorching the green beans and water-logging the potatoes, I was pleased with the way it all turned out and so were all who feasted on it. I announced that the children would be doing all the clean up since I had already washed all the pots and pans and scrubbed the counters, but Dale went to bat for them and commenced the clean up himself.

We watched the parade from start to finish, had a huge meal, fell asleep on the couch to the Cowboys game, and then headed to the park for a rousing game of kickball. And football. And Basketball. And swings. Then we loaded up in the truck and went to Albertson's to get supplies for our Charlie Brown Thanksgiving feast.
This was Kennedy's contribution to our feast: fruit shish kabobs on a cantaloupe boat full of whipped cream.
I love Charlie Brown. I love the music, the characters, the simplicity, the novelty; I love it all. So every holiday I play the corresponding Peanuts cartoon repeatedly until the season passes. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, the kids suggested that we watch it one last time and have the same feast Charlie Brown serves all his friends at the end. So, our dinner consisted of popcorn, pretzels, jelly beans, and toast, along with hot chocolate in lieu of the ice cream floats. It was so fun and festive and they were thrilled. A couple of the kids saved their plates until the meal started on the movie. It was adorable. And then, one last time for the day, we gave thanks to God for the bounty of blessings He continues to lavish on us in every conceivable way.

My heart is never void of thanks, I can tell you honestly. The trials of this life have given me a sincere gratitude for the simple pleasures in life. Things like Leila standing behind me in her diaper singing "Oh Sawah, oh Sawah..." Or our giant puppy sniffing under the door wishing he could come in and lavish his own love on us. Or looking up from a project to see Dale watching me with those dreamy eyes. Or the way my mom and my mother-in-law and Sandy answer the phone so excited to hear from me every time I call, even if we just talked for an hour the day before. I love life. I have my days, and I have my moods that swing us all from the rafters, but I love this life that God has given me, so I am truly thankful.

Thanks Giving

I had this great idea a week ago. It was the idea that if I started early, I would be able to pace myself being that this is my first time EVER to prepare the Thanksgiving feast. In the past I had no idea how much work went into the feast and I didn't lift a finger to contribute. For that I offer my sincere apologies. Later I began to recognize the exhaustion of the host as a symptom of a project that must've taken a lot of work and volunteered my services in the clean-up. Most recently living in Richmond, every year I would ask, "Do you want me to bring anything?" to the feast for nearly fifty relatives and Dale would quickly say, "No, no, you don't have to bring anything, they've got it," and give a nod to his mother like he had *handled* it. I never was offended by this because generally I had to work that night or the night before and knew it would be difficult to juggle the stress of bringing anything to the table that didn't compare to the down-home goodness that we've all come to know and love. (One year I did bring little pilgrim hats made from striped shortbread cookies upside-down a chocolate dipped marshmellow on top, and a little yellow buckle made from frosting. They were cute. Not much of a contribution, but cute.)

This year, I have accepted the fact that we are going to be all by ourselves out here and decided to compensate with the only permissible substitute, which is the same feast we would've had if we were *d0wn home*: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, corn, homemade rolls, dumplins, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, and custard pie. So I thought it would be a good idea to start early and pace myself since I'm on my own. Last week I thought about making the pie crusts. Then Sunday I put it on the list to make the pie crusts. And Tuesday I really intended to get it done, but then I cleaned the tub instead but managed to quick mix up the crust and stick it in the fridge. When the hour was up, my pie crust still looked like biscuit dough, which made me nervous. So this morning I tried the recipe again and the results were the same. I don't know if every recipe makes four crusts, but I can't stand to waste that much stuff by some error, so I froze the dough in hopes of developing something fantastic later. And then I called in the cavalry, I called my mom. She read the recipe back to me and I had miscopied it; instead of 1 1/2 cups water, it should've been 1/2 cup water. *sigh* So I bought more flour and more Crisco and I tried it again and I gotta tell ya, I was pretty nervous.

I've never made a turkey. I've never made stuffing except for Stove Top. I've never made dumplins, not like Mawmaw's. With the first attempt already on shaky ground, I rocked my confidence. The big day is creeping up fast and there's no trial run on Thanksgiving.

My other great idea was to set a cookie sheet on the bottom shelf of the oven for spill overs so that I wouldn't be scrubbing out the bottom of my oven after a long day of slaving in the kitchen. So I set it in place, and then carefully set the pecan pie over it. After half the cooking time had passed I realized it wasn't going to spill over, and I moved the cookie sheet to the other side. Next I poured the custard into the pie crust and carefully covered the edges with foil, so proud of myself for thinking to cover it before I put it in the oven. The filling was nearly too high, but I love custard and assured myself that I could get it in without dumping it. When I picked up the tin, it dribbled down the side. No big deal. As I turned to set it on the oven rack, it ran in a steady stream down the cabinet, across the floor, down the oven door and then sloshed into the oven, pooling atop the cookie sheet and overflowing into the oven. *sigh*. This made me more nervous about the stuffing and turkey and gravy and everything.

The other three pies turned out to be very lovely, and they are pictured on the previous post because as a mother, I don't get many things accomplished and there aren't a lot of new tasks to master in these four walls, so I feel accomplished in this one thing. I know I can bake a pie.

I have been genuinely excited about this event since the passing of Halloween. In a way I feel like it's a rite of passage. I know, that might seem dumb because I'm thirty-one and I have six kids and I've been married almost as long as I was single. You'd think I would feel all growed up, but it's a flagship of womanhood to be able to achieve the impossible and survive, which I have to say, is trademark of the preparation of a Thanksgiving day feast, in my case anyway.

Today I baked the pies, made the stuffing, froze the dumplins, peeled the potatoes, prepared the sweet potatoes, made the rolls, and thawed the turkey. I think I'm ready for tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes. My excitement has only been dampened by my current exhaustion, which I'm sure will reignite with the opening sounds of the Macy's Day parade.

So here's to all of you mothers: Mom, Dana, Grandma, my Aunt Kim, who have slaved over this event for hours and spent piles of money to make a feast for the rest of us to eat up and then take a nap without a thought, THANKS TO YOU. You're the real heroes.

These are a few

of my favorite things.

A Formal Farewell

There's bittersweet air about us as we say our final farewell to football. Today is the superbowl and we lost our tickets to our loss last weekend. Today is the party where all the kids will get trophies and run around together just for fun, probably for the first time since the season started. When I found out we'd have practice everyday for the first five week and then games all over the state every weekend, I went a little cuckoo. But once we got the groove, I looked forward to being out in the cool of the day with the sun shining because I could just sit and watch while the kids ran and played and screamed and wrestled with the other siblings. It was a little intimidating at first too, to have to load the troops at 5:30 in the cold to drive long distances to watch our peewees play games, but that too just became part of the routine. Now that it's all said and done, I'm a little sad that I won't have all the same kids to cheer for next time, or the same parents to labor with through the season. But I'm also relieved that we will have a few Saturdays to rest before basketball takes off. I don't know if I'd have ever done it if I hadn't watched my good friend, full-time business woman, single mom to five do it for years, running all five in different directions like it was as natural as breathing. She gives me hope and joy in this season of life; the running season. And it's a good thing because we're looking forward to about fifteen years of it.
So long football; thanks for the memories.

Hope

Therefore having been justified by faith
we have peace with God
through our Lord Jesus Christ
through whom also we have obtained
our introduction by faith
into this grace in which we stand;
and we

exult in hope

of the glory of God.
And not only this, but we also

exult in our trubulations

knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance;
and perseverance, proven character;
and proven character, hope.

And hope does not disappoint,

because the love of God has been
poured out within our hearts
through the Holy Spirit
who was given to us.

And hope does not disappoint.
Love never fails.
We have fixed our hope on the living God.
This hope we have as an ANCHOR of the soul.

Kindness

It's God's kindness that leads to repentance.

The virtuous woman was known for teaching kindness.

Let your kindness be evident to all.

And the fruit of the spirit is... kindness.

How can my life be so saturated by these words that are ever present in my life, and yet my heart be full of dark words of wrath that spill out every time I get bumped? Anger, sarcasm, frustration, fits of rage, condescension... forgive me God. I am weak and foolish.

Make me a vessel of Your kindness. Not politeness and courtesy that I am so accustomed to extending to virtual strangers in my world, but the true kindness of the Spirit that leads people to repentance.

School Updates

Today is the last day of the quarter for our school calendar and we are scrambling to tie up loose ends before tomorrow, my face-to-face parent-teacher meeting. This is where we turn in a work sample from each subject and she tests the kids on their progress. I've been a nervous wreck for two weeks trying to come up with all the necessary samples and testing myself in case we don't come out ahead. I have felt really confident about this program and my abilities to complete for quite a while now. After we got the hang of the schedule and the groove of the curriculum, I felt like we were smooth sailing. Now that it's time to test the progress, we'll see if we meet the mark. I guess the worst thing that could happen is that I'll have to redo some lessons and I won't get a gold star for perfection.

This leads me to my next point. Every day that goes by, at some point in the day I wonder if this is what they do. You know, do they keep a tidy house all the time? Do they have a good, substantial dinner every night? Do they have trouble stretching from paycheck to paycheck? Do they ever loose it and scream at their kids? Am I keeping up with the rest of the moms in the world that are achieving perfection every day? And then I ask myself this ever present question... WHY DO I CARE WHAT THEY DO???

I grew up in a stable, normal household, by my own standards. Not normal like Americans, normal like the Cleavers. There were problems, sometimes my parents fought, sometimes we didn't like each other, and sometimes I was a real drag to live with. *this may be an understatement*. But we had a tidy house, even with seven of us in that huge place. My mom made breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday; so much so that I thought I was eating out when I got to eat a hot lunch at school. I know they were tight with money, but they were responsible with it, and I don't ever remember seeing my mom cry about it. The bar is set pretty high for me. I'm living now, knowing that it's possible to live that life. And I do strive for it. But normalcy is relative and when you're a kid, or an outsider, you just don't see everything.
What I have, is rich and good, even if I'm not meeting the bar.

I really came to say today that just because I don't test well and I get really nervous under scrutiny, we've come a long way from the first weeks of school. At this point, I have no doubt we'll finish the school year and be just fine. The only reason though, is that my friends have prayed for me. My family has prayed me. So I wanted to say thank you again for your support of our mission. God has heard and answered.

Just in case you were wondering

this is what I look like now; you don't even have to say it because I already know, it's a photoshop masterpiece. As I was thumbing through the most recent upload, I found px of Lolly's birthday, Kennedy and Micah's birthday party, and a whole slew of football game px. I thought about posting a hodge podge but decided when I came across this beauty, that it was a necessary post.

As I was primping for church this morning, it crossed my mind that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to apply a little mascara to those white eyelashes and then I grabbed my purse, thought about how much I'd like to have a cup of coffee, and shut off the lights on my way out the door. It wasn't a hurried morning, as is the Sunday morning custom, but these were just two luxury items on the list that didn't make the cut.

In the past four months, I can probably count on one hand the number of times that I've applied make-up. Dale doesn't really care whether I wear it or not, and no one here is used to seeing me with it on, and since I rarely catch a glimpse in the mirror, why bother? We live in California where people appreciate nature and being 'a naturale. That's what I tell myself anyway, and then I see something like this and seriously consider selling all my Grandma's china for a good make-over and wardrobe revamp.

But then again, let's get real, by 2:00, and it's 1:44 now, I'll have forgotten this image and the ridiculosity that it incurred in my mind, and the China will rest safely in moving boxes ready for the next leg of the journey.

Thanks a' Very Mas!

We all got up late Thanksmas morning, and Dale went straight to the kitchen to prepare a lovely brunch for us all! I was so thrilled! This year's new tradition is Thanksmas Mountain which is comprised of biscuits, fried potatoes, and scrambled eggs, smothered in gravy and hot sauce. Dale was the only partaker; I was so sick from the Halloween festivities that I had to stick with the safe road, but next year, I'll be all over Thanksmas Mountain!
We got our tree up, the same 6 foot tree that my mom purchased for us on our first Christmas, and followed the Thanksmas tradition of trying to *make that funky thing look normal.* Every year we grow more attached to that thing, even though it's crooked and falls down a few more times than it did the last year. The kids put up all the ornaments as beloved holiday tunes rang through the house, and then we headed to Wal-Mart to choose some new lawn decorations. In honor of the deceased goat that had faded and rusted after it's third year in commission, we purchased a standing buck and a feed doe. Dale hung lights on the fence, and then we bought way too much food, which we somehow managed to devour every bit of after football practice. The first Christmas movie of the year was Emmet Otter's Jugband Christmas.

I nearly cried several times during the day at the wonder of God's goodness. I'm so thankful that I have a husband that cherishes the simple pleasures as much as I do. I'm also thankful that my kids are on board with our quirky traditions and they still think they are so cool. I am thankful that this year I will carry the last Sutton of our chapter and then reclaim my body as mine alone, for life. I am thankful that even if we don't have anyone that we really want to invite to our parties within hundreds of miles, we have good and true friends that would really savor our celebration with us, if they could. And I'm thankful that in this life, in this fallen world, we have joy that is unspeakable and full of glory. Even with that, we have much, much more awaiting us in eternity if we only endure. Happy Thanksmas!!!

Name that Clone

Every year we wait until about a week past prime time to buy costumes and end up with the picked-over left-overs. I used to think I'd make the costumes every year, like my mom always did, but after I spent $70 on ET, it was just cheaper to shell out the cash. This year we continued the tradition, so as precious as they are, these weren't anyone's first choice. But they were thrilled to all be matching once it was decided. Besides, aren't they sweet??? Everyone in the neighborhood commented on my clone troopers when they rang our doorbell.

Leila tried to go down the street with them, but the scary haunted house at the end of the lane sent her home screaming. Inside the house, we opted for an endless It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown marathon and the treating of the Trick or Treaters.



We have never lived in an area that I trusted enough to send my kids out on their own to knock on doors because we live in a scary world peppered with spooky people. This year, however, because we know almost everyone in the entire reservation on a first name basis, I felt safe sending them out without me. By the time they started up to the last street, it was starting to get dark, but they teamed up with their favorite hang out parents down the street and finished the journey with adult accompaniment. It was the thrill of the year.

One of the local churches puts on a giant block party here every year that we went to after it got dark; it was incredible. There must have been 150 different booths and games set up across three parking lot, as well as cheap food and entertainment for the whole community. I love it that churches find this a worthwhile event each year.

Following our adventure through the masses, we settled in to our cozy living room in our pajamas and blankets and shut out all the lights for the initiation of my personal favorite event of the year, The Scariest Noise Competition. The first year we held this event, Dale and I laughed till we cried from the obnoxious sounds that we both deemed as *scary noises*. This kids laughed along with us, but they had no idea why our noises were so weird when they were all being so scary. We have yet to top that one, but we all loved it this year just the same.

The whole question of whether or not it is morally correct to celebrate Halloween, I've heard it called *the Devil's Holiday*, we settled in our hearts a long time ago. This year Dale explained the true history to the kids after one of their friends told them that Jesus didn't like Trick or Treating. Like everything entailed in living in a fallen world, it is a matter of the heart. If your heart is to honor God in all you do, then where is the wrong in dressing up and collecting candy from your benevolent neighbors? There is so much bad in the world, we try to make the fun things as fun as they can possibly be for our family by starting and carrying on home-spun traditions with each passing year. It makes the sweetness of this life just a little sweeter.