lucky

After a hard morning full of lots of crying and whining and frustration I decided Avett *had* to have a nap. I tried and tried to get him down for a nap in his room and it was a struggle.  I surrendered my cause and just shut the door to his room to see if he would fuss him self to sleep.  I walked out feeling defeated and drained and looked up through the frizz of my frazzled pony tail only to see my sweet Evie at work in the kitchen.  She had pulled up a dining room chair up to the sink and she was scrubbing and washing and rinsing all of the dirty dishes.  I just about wept right then and there.  I walked closer and she caught me on her view and said, "Oh hey mom! Are you glad and lucky that you have someone to do the dishes for you?" I thanked her over and over for her service and kindness.  I am so proud of the service heart she is developing.  I adore her thoughtfulness and her ability to observe my frustrations and her determination to do something to make me smile. 

So yes Evie, to answer your question, I feel lucky.  I feel lucky in every way because of you my darling girl.

crumbs and chats

We spent the whole day at Stock Gap yesterday.  It was good for my heart.  Yesterday would have been my parents 31st anniversary.  I don't know that anyone thought of it except that I mentioned it to my sister in a whisper.  I don't suppose it should have even been mentioned anyway but still...it was interesting.  I feel so at peace and even happy for how things turned out for my parents.  I feel at peace with their new lives and how we all fit together in one crazy blended family now.  They are both remarried to great matches and my sister and I have come to accept and love them as have our husbands and children, although they never knew anything different. 

After the divorce some relationship dynamics changed for a while and I'm coming to terms with the fact that that's ok.  It's hard for families to split apart and then to find how they fit back together and where everyone lands and how.  I suppose it's like shaking up a bottle of soda, everything bubbles and is crazy for a bit and then it eventually settles down and you can see clearly again.

I've been praying for that clarity so often and I'm so grateful for the bits that come to me in time.

Yesterday after a big meal everyone scattered to do different things while mom and I had some time to ourselves to clean the kitchen.  I don't know why in sharing that mundane task and exchanging conversation amidst it all I felt like a piece of my heart flew back and a crack was filled.  After I mentioned that we won't all fit around the dining room table much longer I was listening to her tell me about how a long time ago Grandmother Virginia Shepherd offered her a huge table that sat 14 or 16 and that she is now sad she didn't take it. I felt happy hearing her share that simple story.  I walked around collecting crumbs and and clearing the table and it just felt good to be two women at work.  A mother and a daughter doing something that mothers and daughters have done millions of times together.  I'm not quite sure why yet, but I cherished it.  I'm grateful for her wisdom and her experience and I want to learn from it.  

The rest of our time was filled with crying babies, happy messy dirty children, and sporadic conversation mingled with requests from toddlers and kids.  It was good for me, so good.

The Glenn Murphy Ranch: spring break

I'm laying in bed with wet hair from a late night shower and John is sound asleep next to me.  I couldn't have been in there for more than 10 minutes but it was enough time for him to fall right to sleep.  He had an early morning on the ranch today working cattle with Pops.  When he came home about lunch time he had cow blood on his hands and jeans, a few true marks of true hard ranch work. 

Every time we go outside I am met with the smell of orange blossoms blowing through the breeze. I'm so in love with it here, I could just sit and stare at the grove for hours.  The kids and Grammy and I had a little snack picnic under the shade of a Hamlin orange tree a couple of days ago.  We were accompanied by some gnats and Avett wanted to climb as high as he could in that tree. 

Today around lunch time the children were getting restless so I asked john to ride them around on the gator while I warmed up lunch. Grammy is the best at making bulk so we've always got plenty of leftovers on hand at a moments notice.  I was so grateful for the uninterrupted moment to fix lunch while I heard the hum of the gator in the distance and the sound of little voices becoming clearer as they zoomed closer back to the house.

Today Grammy and the kids and I took a spontaneous tour of the old Jacaranda Hotel, built in 1926.  Grammy asked if we could see a room and the receptionist gave us two keys to go and explore as we pleased. It was such a charming hotel.  When we came back down I asked the man in the lobby playing the piano if I could sing with him.  I asked for "How Great Thou Art" and he obliged.  Avett started to cry for me so I finished it with him on my hip.  The acoustics were so beautiful I could have sung there all day and well in to the night. I imagined singing old jazz tunes and gospel favorites with a classical twist.  

Afterwards we went over to Verona lake and had a disastrous meltdown with both children ending up in the lake up to their chests and me running in after them up to my thighs.  Our exit was dramatic, sandy, and wet.  Sometimes you win and sometimes you loose.

We end every night here gathered around the dining room table playing cards.  Different versions of Pitch and To Hell and Back.  I'll never forget the first time John tried to teach me Pitch.  It was the most intimidating and complicated sounding game I'd ever heard of and I never thought I'd catch on.  But then just last night I whooped Pops and John fair and square.  It was a proud moment for me mastering the family favorite, a true badge of honor in deed. 

I love Pops' theatrics as we play and how almost every decision as to what card to throw down is as if he is weighing some of the biggest decisions in life. He says something to the effect of, "Well that is just enough to get a man in trouble."  As he repeated rubs his forehead.  

Tonight as he got out a box of whoppers and offered them to all of us he generously said, "Anybody want some of this manna from heaven?"  I keep a running list of all of the best things he says, I just love him.

This ranch is starting to carve deep memories for our children.  Feeding horses hay, walking around the ranch, picking oranges, riding on four wheelers, visits to grannies, pulling Spanish moss from the trees, Lilly the Lizard on the screened in porch, dancing in the light of the headlights to Papa's music while the adults finish up a night time game of corn hole in the back yard, night time family prayers all kneeling in the living room, Avett's first movie at the theater in Sebring in the recliners, picnics under orange trees and after church, petting Gus and watching him run all over the place and so much more. Evaleigh had her first experience with fireweed a few days ago.  She fell back on the ground after Gus knocked her down and her palm landed right on it.  It started to sting and she cried as John whisked her over to the barn to rinse it off with some alcohol.  An experience not too soon forgotten.

I love that this place is a part of my children's heritage.  It makes me feel like we are a part of something special.  And we are. Something so rooted and deep and rich with a long line of their ancestors working and making something incredible of this beautiful land.  

I am so happy to come here over and over for years to come.

mistakes

E: I don't really like going to church.

Well why not?

E: Because there is so much singing and the songs are so long.

But we go to church to learn more about Jesus Christ.

E: Well but who is he really?

He is our Savior and he came so that if we make mistakes we can be forgiven and still go back to live with Heavenly Father. We all make mistakes even mommy has made a lot of mistakes.

E: But I've never seen you make a mistake mom.

If only I could see myself through her eyes....

walk in the light

These little balls of energy and I had been cooped up for so many consecutive rainy days that we bursting at the seams and had to get out of the house rain or shine!

So two days ago we slapped on our rain coats and plugged in our twinkle lights and made the most of the gloomy evening.  They were drenched and muddy but oh so happy that none of the dirt even mattered.  Laundry could be done and shoes cleaned but the outside was the solace we needed.

Evaleigh loves tiny things. And somehow she tracked down a small part of my key chain that had broken off and was laying in the mud.  She brought it to me blowing the whistle at the top of her lungs and asked me to do the same.  Then I noticed the small keychain attached to it with two tiny foot prints and next to it it said "Walk in the Light."  I pulled her close to me and read it to her and then sang her Teach Me to Walk in the Light.  It was a moment I never want to forget under the glow of the twinkling lights teaching my daughter about faith and the gleam of the Saviors love and gospel.  

The spirit filled my heart as I watched her stomp around yelling "walk in the light walk in the light!"

Then we all share a big piece of eye of round roast that I had been slow cooking in the oven for 8 hours. Yum. 

it's back

I've recently felt the magic come back in to my mothering.  It was a tough go for a while there.  I can't believe not so long ago I naively thought to my self, "I am so good at this, being a mother is so easy."  Queue the humility cycle.

Hah. Hah.  Oh the things I've learned in the past 10 months about my self and my children and my limits and relying on God in it all.  

I made a promise to my self a couple of weeks ago that I would never raise my voice at my children again.  I had gotten in to a nasty terrible habit of using that to get those sweet little people to do what I wanted.  But then a thought, I believe a divine thought, came in to my heart and my mind, "they are children, they are learning and everyday they are figuring it out just like you. Be patient and show love."  So I prayed for forgiveness and got to work on my self and my tone and attitude towards my sweet babies. 

Don't get me wrong nothing too extreme was going on I just didn't like the style of communication I had gotten in to.  I believe wholeheartedly my babies deserve the best...my best.  And sometimes that is hard when I've only had 5 hours of sleep due to my wonderfully demanding calling.  I've had to call on the Lord a lot. "Heavenly Father I am really trying my best, please send help. Help me to extend beyond my present capabilities today.  I'm so tired and my babies need me.  Please help me to somehow have the energy for them and do everything I need to do today."

And as I've reached out I've felt that help come.  I've felt myself grow in ways that I know have not been my own except by asking so desperately for it and receiving that divine help. 

I've lingered more.  I've read an extra book.  I've said longer prayers at night by Evie's bedside.  I've picked Avett up out of his crib and swayed in his dark room to the sweet smell of lavender oil diffusing close by.  Ive taken moments to teach.  I've spoken softer, kinder, sweeter.  I've snuggled.  I've played.  I've laughed.  I've said yes more.  

And truly all of this feels more like me, more like us, more like the life we are supposed to all be living together. So we will just keep on, we will keep on making mistakes and then correcting them.  We will keep on learning how to live this beautiful life we've been given. 

magic

Recently my mind has been taken back to our early days as a family here on Stock Gap Road.  I remember how carefully and thoughtfully I put together Evaleigh's nursery, every item shifted dozens of times so they were perched in just the right position.  I remember countless hours of back breaking work with my selfless mother recovering And refurbishing my great grandmothers couch for Evie's nursery while chatting and dreaming about my little Evie and what she would be like.  I remember the day we brought her home from the hospital and how proud I was to show her the small space I had created just for her, even if she slept through the whole tour.  I remember foggy middle of the night feedings rocking back and forth in the old blue recliner while peering through the nursery French doors observing my John sleeping away on our bed in a messy tangle of sheets and blankets.  

My memories here at Stock Gap are rich and run deep: being a young girl running in the yard (many times with no clothes on),  giggling evenings with my sister as young girls, warm homemade cauliflower soup made by my mother during cold months, talks on the porch with my father about goal making and life plans, bringing John here the first time during Christmas of 09' to meet my family for the first time, my first pregnancy while living here the first time again after my parents divorce, bringing my 5 day old son here when we moved back in the second time. And oh so much more.

This is home to me.  It is the place my children know as home. Today Evaleigh told me, out of the blue "Mom, I love our home."  She knows nothing different. 

Sometimes I look around I know that we won't be here forever but to me the library will always be my first baby's nursery, the place where we loved and learned about each other for the first time.  The place where I first cultivated the mother love I feel every day now.  The kitchen will always be the place I learned that Evaleigh doesn't like beans or peanut butter.  It is the place where Avett learned to exert the strength of his little body by carrying whole gallons of milk to me for a drink.  The place where I filled my families bellies, maybe not always of the healthiest food but I will remember that we never went without. The master bedroom will always be mine and johns room,  the place where we conceived our first baby.  The place where we had a tiny Christmas tree just for our selves.  The place where I fell asleep pregnant and watching The Cosby's while John played with my hair or rubbed my feet or back. The place where we talked and talked and talked about the future and what all we hoped it would hold.  And the bathroom just through the double doors was where I nonchalantly took a pregnancy test that changed our whole lives.  The dining room will always be our joy school room. The place where we learned and created and dirty little hands left prints on the windows and sometimes walls.  The place where I couldn't keep Avett from eating the sticky tack off the back of our art work hanging on the windows.  The halls will never just be places to walk or travel from room to room.  They will always be race tracks that my children ran round and round with cars and strollers.  The place where the sweetest sounds of little feet pounded that memory in to my heart.   The living room will always be that in every sense of the word.  The place where we lived and lived good and hard. The place where my husband would sprawl across the floor and toss the children about in the air and tickle them relentlessly only for them to cry out "again!" Or "more!"  The place where my husband and I retired to every night to connect at the end of the long full days.

This house is our house.  It is where we share in life and love and though day in and day out we go through our routines and schedules I know we are living out our future memories. And they are good ones, filled with what I hope I will only recall as magic.

E

(Taken by John last week as the children piled on to Evies bed for a bed time story. Keep love in your heart little one)

Tonight was the end of one of those eternally exhausting days. But as I took my place in the old chair that belonged to my grandmother in Evaleigh's room she picked out her two books for the night and hopped up in to my lap.  I curled down over her for a hug and a snuggle and she said, "that's why I love you mom."  I asked her if my hugs were what she was referring to and she nodded yes. It was a moment I never want to forget.  Then I hugged her again and I told her, "we have a special relationship you see, you and me. You will always be my little girl and I will always be your mommy." Then she rubbed my arm curled up as close to my body as she could get and said, "you are special."  I just wanted to linger in that moment as long as she would let me.  It felt warm and good and just like the sorts of things I dreamed motherhood would feel like.

Motherhood and just plain old life is so busy these days I don't have a lot of time for lingering the way that it beckons in the newborn or infant stages. We are 3 busy bodies in our home going from task to task, toy to toy, craft to craft, dirty projects and play times, mealtime to snacktime and nap time at all moments.  

Ev and I have a habit of whispering secrets in to each others ears these days and many of them go like this, "I love you mom and I will always love you and you are a good mom and I really love."  And mine are about like this, "I love you so, please always be a good girl and make good choices and remember who you really are. I am proud of who you are becoming."

I love my tender hearted darling Evaleigh Joy Murphy.

avett now

I don't want to jinx it but I feel like I may be on the other side with this kid. He has been so much happier lately. He comes to me so often and wraps his little arms around my neck just hugs and hugs me.  

He has always been a mama's boy but more so lately his favorite spot to be while playing is just to come find his way into my lap. He'll just plop himself right in between my legs and he'd play on the floor right there forever if I never moved.  

He is such a boy with his obsession of anything that has wheels or is shaped like a ball.  Our days aren't complete without playing trains, lots and lots of trains.

At night or naps when I put him in his crib always complete with his "melmo" and an assortment of blankets he reaches up for one more looonnngggg hug while drinking his water cup straight upon the air between his teeth, 'no-hands'.  Then we have a conversation while I peek through the door, "i wuv yew mama." "I wuv you Avett" in our deepest funniest voices. And then about 20 "night-night"s before I finally shut the door and he jabbers on for about an hour by himself.

He thinks he owns the refrigerator, I can't open it without him climbing right in and making himself at home on the stoop and then unloading all of the yogurts from the bottom shelf in to my hands.

He follows Evie around everywhere. 

His love language is most definitely touch.  He needs to be touched and touch quite a bit.  If he is sitting next to me he will grab my hand and hug it to his chest. It's the absolute best.

He is getting more and more fun by the day with newly learned words and funny faces. We love our crazy boy.

im a wedding girl too

Yesterday Evaleigh was so excited to see me in my wedding dress. I hope she always remembers the excitement of our anniversary every year.  I could see her little wheels turning in her mind with wide eyes of adoration and awe as I glided around the house in my wedding dress.  She asked me over and over to spin in the living room and each time she would squeal with delight.  It's the kind of moment where you can feel, almost tangibly, that a memory is being made.

She asked right away to put on her wedding dress after I tried my dress on early that morning to see how I would get in it, if at all! Last year it zipped up no problem, this year I had a few more Ben&Jerry pounds to answer for. So a cardigan thrown over the back would just have to do.

We spent the morning making flower crowns and she slipped in to her white dress, Cinderella plastic slippers from her Grammy, her blonde hair weave of course, and her flower crown.

She looked in the mirror and exclaimed, "I'm beautiful!" And she was. And is.

The whole day she paraded around saying that she was going to get married.  She went inside her teepee and said it was the temple. That warmed my heart. 

I hope she remembers how special yesterday was for all of us.  How glad I am to have such a full and lovely life with these people. 

I love John Murphy, Evaleigh Joy, & Avett Mills.

6 month tunnel

The is a moment in the morning when I get Avett out of his crib with a cup of "ca-chit milk" ready to go.  He asks for me to grab all three of his blankies out of the crib with grunts and points and then I wrap him up in my arms. I go downstairs, usually to the soundtrack of Evaleigh's many questions which have already started, and I flop down in the blue rocking chair recliner.  I stare in to his beautiful eyes and stroke his hair and for a moment we snuggle like we used to when he was so little.  It's one of the calmer moments of the day.  

I find a lot of peace in the moment and I try to savor it just a bit more because I know what lies ahead.  Avett is not exactly what I'd call an easy child.  I adore and love him endlessly but the past 6 months he has tested my patience in motherhood in ways that have driven me to the edge of my limits. It has taken me to my knees in prayer many times since and the answer I get almost every time is, "just be there for him."  It is easy to get caught up in the tasks of the day and when he is wailing at my knees and pushing me as hard as he can away from dinner or laundry or lunch it is so challenging for me to find that balance. 

While I finally feel like I am seeing some light at the end of the six month long tunnel there are still moments when he is just inconsolable. I am glad however that they have moved from days to moments.  I've never been able to figure out exactly a method with him that is dependable.  I just don't remember Evaleigh being this difficult. It is frustrating as his mom not to have the answers all of the time. 

I know I am supposed to be learning a lesson from all of this.  And I just hope that whatever it is that I am actually learning it and changing the way that God wants me to. I feel like He has been molding me with this trial of the last 6 months with Avett.  I want to grow and I want to be stretched and changed for the better and for certain that is what my children help me to do.  

/////

Well I'm off to clean up from the day and rearrange the living room while John Murphy studies for his Finance test tomorrow. I'm looking forward to a quiet lonesome night with some music and my thoughts. 

untouched

I don't have many quiet moments in my day.  But right now I am listening to the sound of my dishwasher going and clothes in the dryer and the static of the monitors. Both of my babies are sleeping and I just sat down to fold a load of clothes.  My husband is upstairs working away and everything here is so hushed and calm.  It's dreary and dim outside as a storm is looming in the afternoon.  I feel like these days at home with my babies are so sheltered.  We live in a sacred little bubble here in our home.  We don't really get out much except for the occasional play date and the days I'm feeling brave enough to conquer the grocery store with two little ones.  I love being at home with my children.  I can feel that my soul has grown sensitive to this simple life.  Right now our world feels so untouched.

"phone, mama."

About two and a half months ago I was sitting in the living room on the couch watching Avett kick around on the floor while Evaleigh walked around playing with different toys.  I was having a breather from the crazy day and I'm sure I looked pretty checked out.  My two year old came up to me, looked in to my eyes, pushed my phone in to my hand and said, "Phone, mama."   

It was a turning point for me.

  It was a moment where I realized that she was much more knowing than I thought.  All of those times where I was aimlessly scrolling facebook or instagram throughout the quiet moments in the day someone had been watching.  To know that she noticed it was odd for me not to have my phone in my hands at all times was heartbreaking.  I felt an instant sweep of guilt and knew that I needed to make some changes.

As someone who enjoys blogging and sharing bits and pieces of our lives on the Internet, social media has really become quite a part of my every day routine.  I have seen its positive and negative effects in my life.  I have become friends with a community of people who I respect and admire.  I've come in contact with people who I seek out their opinions and rely on for support.  I have been blessed to share many special things from our lives and have enjoyed people rejoicing with us.

But I will admit, with a hint of shame, that I am known to put more effort than should be given in to taking the perfect picture for my instagram feed or staging something that is not exactly natural just because I think it will get a good response.  I find enjoyment in capturing beautiful things but in exchange I have often intruded on sacred moments of my kid's childhoods. 

 Obviously as a mother I want to capture every thing my kids do and preserve it so I'll have it to look back on when they are older.  Infanthood and toddlerhood is such a special time.  Having those moments frozen through pictures are priceless to me and I find myself staring at those pictures mere minutes after my children have gone to bed.  Their childhood seems so fleeting that I feel an urgency and anxiousness to capture it and immortalize it so I'll have it for years to come.  

I had a moment back in January when it snowed and I was outside with Evaleigh for her first snow.  I kept pointing my phone at her face and telling her, "Smile, smile, smile, make a funny face.  Evie look at mommy!"  She put her hand up and said, "No picture mommy."  I was a little embarrassed and realized that what was more important in that moment was letting her experience snow for the first time and me to experience it with her.

Throughout most days I would wander from room to room following my daughter while holding my son and juggling anything else I was trying to carry while holding my phone too.  I realized it had become a natural extension of my hand.  I would look for it frantically when I couldn't see it, almost like it was a third child I had to keep close.  Checking my phone had become a habit instead of a help.  It was an addiction and not a simple device.

I have noticed device dependency more and more in our society.  It is evident in probably every public place we go.  I see it at play dates, family get-togethers, restaurants, my own home, and even stop lights.  It's no secret that smart phones and hand held devices have revolutionized the way we exchange information and have it readily acessable at our fingertips.  There are so many positives to this advancement and I can testify that I have absolutely benefited personally from those changes.  But I have also suffered from them.  I wonder how many moments I may have missed out on because I had my head hung down in a phone screen.  How many people have been ignored or tuned out because of this 'luxury of technology'?

I'm so grateful to my husband who is much smarter than me. About three weeks ago I was so frustrated with myself and I was ready to sell my iphone and go to a simple flip phone.  After spilling to him my desires and feelings about technology and it's influence in our lives he suggested I continue to keep my phone and just set limits for myself.  He said that instead of completely eliminating the phone that I should give my chance the opportunity to succeed and that if I did so I would feel so much better about myself. So I did.  I came up with a plan to set aside a spot for my phone and to leave it there on silent throughout the day.  I taped a piece of paper to the bar and drew a spot for my phone to sit.

So far I have experienced many more meaningful and productive days.

Our days before were filled with some phoneless moments and memory making but these new boundaries have enhanced the good that we have and have eliminated an unnecessary distraction in my life.  

I suppose it all comes down to priorities.  My battle with technology leads to finding a balance.  Will it be a text or time? Facebook or face to face?  A picture or a private moment? Sharing or experiencing?