That Meadow has skills

They're just not in photography.

Things I learned from Little House on the Prairie: Part 1

That having one or two sets of clothes for everyday wear, plus one nice outfit for Sunday is sufficient. How much of our lives do we spend maintaining our clothing? Years, I'm sure. All those clothes, that ridiculous amount we somehow seem to accumulate, sure to impress someone (who?) must be stored and organized and cleaned and sorted and folded and put away. I'm thinking of backing down to 3 outfits per person for our family. Just like the Ingalls. Now, that would be impressive!

From now on, this is my Sunday dress: ☺

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Letting go of Legalism

Or at least making an effort to do so...
Freedom to worship and serve and learn out of relationship rather than obligation - that is our aim. It's always a challenge. This is how we are going about it at this time. Because everything is subject to change on an As Needed basis.

•I like to listen to some of my favorite pastors' (there are several) teachings online. You know, while I sweep the floor and wipe bottoms and make food and stuff like that. It may not exactly be a quality quiet time, but I certainly get a lot out of it.
This series would have knocked my socks off....if I had not already been wearing flip flops. Wow. It is incredibly thought provoking. Do you listen to his sermons? He is really a gifted teacher.
•And, the kids and I are going through the Bible (((slowly!!))) together during the day. Which is really fun for us. They are learning so much. And I am too. We are in Joshua. (We skip some parts - genealogies and the reading of the entire law, to name a few...) It's part of our home-educating-as-a-lifestyle philosophy. We've tried lots of times/places/books and found that for now, it works best to do our Bible time/devotion (whatever you want to call it) while everyone is at the table for school. We pray immediately following (on our knees on our kitchen floor.)
•And, we could not get through the days and weeks without the praise and worship music we know, need, and love. Klove is our current favorite. Jayla and I have playlists we like to crank as well.

Happy Saturday to you.

This is simply wonderful.
*******************
Celebrating 65 years(!) of wedded bliss for grandma and grandpa Frey this weekend.
Lots of fun activities with the family planned.
Speaking of wonderful....
Next to the definition of it in the dictionary must be this picture. I'm sure of it.

Happy Anniversary to some of the best people on earth.

Some of our kids are early risers. Those children usually crash easily at night also. Others have trouble going to sleep at night and tend to be up late, then have to be rousted from bed in the AM.

We keep a scheduled morning for the kids - I have learned this reduces chaos and ensures everyone is eating well, then taking care of their responsibilities. Breakfast is at 7:30, then morning routine chores for each child and myself follow.

When I set my alarm to wake at 6:00 and pour myself a nice cup of steaming hot coffee to spend some time at my desk with my Bible, inevitably, it's a matter of mere moments before I hear the footsteps down the hall, then feel the breath on the back of my neck. Someone is standing behind me.
I turn to look at their face, trying not to let my annoyance show because I do not want them to feel that I am not pleased to see them. "Good morning {child}. Did you sleep well? Why don't you go turn on the tv until it's time for breakfast?" Off they go.
Ah, it's quiet again. I resume, trying to remember where I was before the interruption. Oh, there it is. I found my spot.
Only a few quick minutes later, here comes another munchkin. Footsteps down the hall, the feeling of someone standing behind my chair. Again, annoyed by the interruption, I turn.
Repeat cycle.
Then, another.
When I turn to the third child to pad down the hallway and come look to me for a morning greeting, I can no longer contain the aggravation that wells up within me.
I sigh. Deeply. With great exaggeration. I push out my chair more forcefully than is necessary, and stand up, loudly pronounce, "good morning {child} I hope you slept well. Watch tv please."
Then I walk to the kitchen and begin getting things out for breakfast, angry that I can not have a single moment to myself in the morning. Having lost my [holy] composure, another [holy] "quiet time" bites the dust.
Suddenly, I'm not feeling so spiritual anymore.
I am a follower of Christ. People like me are supposed to have a Quiet Time. Everyone knows that.
What are those kids doing? Waking up in the morning like that? Standing right behind me, looking to their momma to say hello, good morning, how are you today? Trying to get a hug? They have ruined my quiet time! When am I supposed to learn to follow Christ?!

It is then. When I lay aside my own agenda, and love those I have been given. When I am warm and inviting as a mother. When I let go of my urge to be harsh and cold because they are interrupting my time with Jesus. When I am able to demonstrate toward them the servant hood of Christ, my Lord. I learn to follow him.

There are seasons of a mother's life. For some women, the stages last longer due to family size, spacing, type, or structure.

This is my season. One full of young children. And He has taught me more in this season than ever before in my entire life. While dry in some ways, it flourishes in others. Make no mistake, God knows my desire for Him. He searches my heart. He realizes that although I may not have the Quiet Time I would like to be able to share with Him, it is because I am busy pouring myself out in service to train and teach and correct and instruct and nurture His little ones. And I have never needed Him more. I am wholly reliant. All day long. Every day. Keenly aware of my own depravity. I can not do this alone. Motherhood has brought me here. Low. Fully cognizant that only He is High. I look up. And this is precisely the place I need to be. For now.

He meets me exactly where I am. And He loves me so very well. In the midst of all this. He whispers to me. Reminds me. Teaches me. Comforts and convicts me and uplifts me and guides me throughout the day. He gives me wisdom and strength to take care of the responsibility He has entrusted to me.

I rarely have a good quiet time. And yet, I know. I see. I hear. There is no doubt. He is here. We are in this together, He and I.
Right in the middle of The Loudness.  

Everyone's been talking about these

And I didn't really know what they were.
Apparently, they are the main 'types' of people. I thought to myself, "Tisha, you ought to be aware of this. It could be very helpful to understand yourself and others better!" So, I took a test.
Supposedly, my personality can be characterized as this:

Meloncholy: 30%
Phlegmatic: 8%
Sanguine: 33%
Choleric: 30%

Oh, well, alrighty. It's all so ultra crystal clear. {Ha!} With a split like that, It appears I have multiple personalities. That explains a lot....
Just don't go calling me phlegmatic. Cybil? That's more like it.
My husband is surely ((so completely not)) surprised. ☺

Did you know about these? Do you know what you are? You should totally find out. Because, wow. My life is making much more sense now. {Ha! Again.}
All those thousands of questions below? Uh, Answered. Cha-ching. Check. Next?
And yes, this deep satisfaction could be yours too. With one simple little test.

Do we e mail?

If so, I'm trying to phase out my falcon broadband address and only use my gmail account.
It is: tishadeutsch @ gmail . com
Would you mind changing that in your address book? :)
And, I'm sorry for not always responding to e mails promptly. I am focusing hard on spending less time at the computer to be more present with my children, which takes a toll on my e mail correspondence. I was way too tethered to this screen. I have noticed my ability to be a good friend seems to suffer when I step back from being online so much. But I feel a whole lot better about my parenting when I'm less preoccupied with cyberspace. So, it's a trade off. Somethings gotta give.....there are only so many hours in a day. Thanks for understanding!

Ok...So...Well....

Where to begin? That's the problem with breaks, now isn't it? An appropriate restarting point is difficult to find.
I have been in a period of....hmm....gosh, I'm not sure what you would call it. I don't know what kind of period I have been in. But I do know I should not end a sentence with "in." So, yeah. That's not good. Let me try again. Without the in at the end.

Very little in my life seems to make sense. Say, from an external point of view. This has given me pause. Great pause. And cause for consideration. What in the world am I doing, why am I doing it? Who am I, really? Not who do I prefer to think I am or who do I wish to portray. But who am I all the time. As in when no one is looking. Who do I want to be? All the time. Is there a disconnect between who I really am and who people think I am? If so, is it by my own doing? Where do I feel God leading me? Us? Our marriage? Our family? Am I sure? Do I want to go there? What are the risks? Is there a part of me that doesn't want to be here at all? Where I am?  Do people have breaking points? What role does the church play in our lives, my life? What role do I play in the church? Is this as it should be? Is the way to get from point A to point B to quit striving and just relax? Or is it necessary to push forward? Does God always call a husband and wife individually to what He wants them to do together - as I previously thought He did? When the sign says "free vacuums" at the car wash, is it funny to dare my husband to go in and ask for his free vacuum? Why are friendships so challenging at times? Why are women competitive? Am I competitive with the women in my life? Controlling? With anyone? Judgemental? Do I have a critical nature? If so, where and with whom? How can we avoid the hamster wheel of stuff leads to more stuff which leads to more stuff? Is my desire to be a good parent partly rooted in pride? Why do I struggle with the same sins repeatedly, over years. Will this ever go away? Do I really trust God to take care of us? What if that means.....? Why must we be ridiculously busy? Is this good for us, for our children? What is the point of all that busyness? Is it truly profiting us? Will our kids be disadvantaged if they engage in less outside activities than their peers? How am I supposed to be good with Meadow's hair when Clover's looks like a rat's nest half the time? Do Meadow and Flint feel a sense of belonging? Loved? Why do I so intensely crave a sense of freedom?  Freedom. How can I get more of that?

There seem to be no hard and fast answers. Time changes everything, and everything changes with time. So, just when I think I get something all figured out, it doesn't last long. I soon realize it's time to refigure.
I guess that's what I've been doing. Refiguring. Becuase that is the way my mind apparently works. Whew. It's kind of exhausting. I can't be the only one like this. Right? :)

Day of *Rest*

Cooling off

It's Summer

And we have a very nice new roof compliments of some extremely hard working men who really should get paid much more than they do for slaving away in the blazing sun, I'm sure.

And we also have new skylights and ridge vents - compliments of the man of the house due to his labor and handy dandy skills on the hottest days of the year thus far.

And our detached garage's roof was not totalled, so it no longer matches the house. Uh, Pretty. It's the cool new prairie hip chic (no we're not rednecks! how dare you!) look. Country sexy charm is what I'm choosing to call it. It's the envy of all the neighbors.

And I seem to have lost all motivation to blog. When I find it, I'll let you know. Until then, here are a few pictures showing the kind of stuff we will be doing in lieu of sitting at the computer. Fun in the sun. Seriously, Colorado summers are the best. The best!

And these summers almost make up for those ((blasted-blustery-cabin-fever-inducing-when-the-heck-will-we-be-able-to-go-outside-again-because-you-energetic-little-people-stuck-indoors-bouncing-off-the-walls-are-driving-your-mother-mad)) winters.

And I love me some summer. Oh yes, it's true.

So she says

I'm not sure if I can believe her though....

People say the darndest things

Yes they do. When you happen to have any type of obviously blended family, or a family that does not fit inside the box of the typical nuclear 2 parent, 2 child family, you may hear a lot of interesting remarks from folks. They come from people you know and love, family members, friends, strangers, passersby you will never meet again. Sometimes it feels like nearly everyone has something to say.

From our experience, I must admit the comments we receive are overwhelmingly favorable. Not always, but most of the time people have good hearted, complimentary things to say. There are moments when I can tell by the expression on their faces that people are thinking less than flattering thoughts toward our brood, which is kind of funny, because we clearly bother them more than they bother us.

Then, there are the words that are shared, meant to be kind and uplifting, said without a hint of scorn, but can rub us the wrong way, leaving us uncertain, not knowing if we should offer "correction."
They [your adopted children] are so lucky.
That's one of the big ones.

I've been thinking this over lately, trying to determine what my response should be to this statement. As an adoptive mom who can see the hurt and tragedy and pain and grief and immense loss my children have endured in such a short time on this earth, I may want to shout back "NO! They are not lucky! How could you say such a thing? These little ones have lost their parents, their homeland, their culture, their heritage, their siblings....There was no one, not a single family member or friend able to care for them so they were placed for adoption to unknown rich foreigners to come in and pluck them out of everything they have ever known and bring them into a realm of absolute newness - full of strangers who don't look like them or sound like them or speak like them or eat the same foods or do the same things or live the same kind of life. They have left an existence of extreme scarcity and poverty to live in a world where excess is completely normal, acceptable, fortunate. It is enough to cause mind boggling confusion. Not to mention, vast, dark, bewildering, sadness. Who would say this is lucky? What if the exact same situation happened to an American child? Would we call them lucky? Why certainly not. No, we would not."

But I don't shout that. Because when I snap out of it, I can see. These people may have a point. If there is no one to care for these children, is it better to age out of an orphanage, just to stay in their country of birth? Is it good to have no family to call their own? No one who is committed to looking out for their best interest? No one to provide, guide, educate, instruct, nurture, give their all to ensure the childrens' needs are met? Shouldn't all children have at least that? A family? As flawed as we are, we offer what we have. Love. Imperfect, fallible, human, motherly, fatherly love. This side of heaven, does it get any better? Is there anything more true and pure we can give?

In our fallen world we will all face toil. There are usually no perfect, 100% right and acceptable answers for the complex scenarios we encounter. The need for adoption is one of the clearest examples of this harsh reality. A measure of hardship is part of the package deal. Some seem to get far more than others. For some kids, the amount is difficult to fathom. They lose so much. They are vulnerable. They need intervention. Assistance. Someone to step up and care. Someone willing to say, I will.

Perhaps getting a new set of parents when you really need them is pretty lucky after all.

It's this girl's.

The bonnet actually belongs to the one who wears dresses almost every day and favors all things old fashioned. She just lets me borrow it. When I want to look like a really hot mama....which is often.

Don't say I didn't warn you...

Some things never change

We've been watching the entire series of Little House on the Prairie courtesy of Netflix as a family. I am utterly and completely hooked and find myself thinking about it during the day, excitedly anticipating the next time we will sit down together for another episode of Ma, Pa, Mary, Laura, Carrie, Mrs. Beetle, Isaiah, and those naughty naughty Olson kids. It's become a huge nice major little addiction adventure for me to enjoy this with my children like I did as a child, (when I was totally obsessed with the show. SO unlike now.) **Confession** Last night I got out our camping coffee pot to make stove top coffee just like Ma does. It was awesome. **Heads up** If you see me out someplace softly speaking, imparting important life lessons with the utmost tenderness and patience to my young ones as they nod their heads and reply "yes ma," to me, the woman sporting a floor length pioneer style dress with an apron and a bonnet on my head, you'll know why. There is everything nothing wrong with that at all.

Different can be good

When I think back to when we first met and brought Meadow and Flint home, in my brand new role of adoptive mother, I believe I was looking for the old familiar feelings I had for each one of our 5 children that came before them - the ones I gave birth to. Immediately, there was a level of affection and a certain fondness for our adopted kids, but it was not the same type of strong emotional connection I had grown to expect and cherish with our biological children.

Sort of in a state of post-adoptive-shock (is there such a thing? I'm going to go ahead and say there is. Or was. At least for me.) I was grieved by this difference. Around every corner, I was looking for sameness - that same desire to spend time with and offer physical touch - the same feelings of closeness - the same thoughts that although they can drive me to the brink of crazy on any given day, these simply must be the cutest, smartest, most exceptionally extraordinary, gifted beyond measure children that have ever drawn breath on this earth! I wanted it to spontaneously occur - now. Now. I wanted that desperately so I could stop asking myself if it would ever come, if things would stay this way forever, if there would always be a marked difference, if we would ever get "there" if I would ever feel like their mother.
I was so hungry for some of the same.

We have been home together nearly 5 months and the development of these emotions is definitely coming along well. I quickly realized it would take time, and it has. Although humbled by that reality, it has taught me much about God's faithfulness and goodness to met my needs so I may serve my little ones. It exposed to me my own deep seated selfishness lurking underneath the parts of myself that I like to exhibit and acknowledge. It has shown me that families really can be born in completely unique ways that are equally as viable and strong and lovely, and how He loves and cares for each member within that family unit. This is not just a fairy tale landscape on the pages of other people's blogs - only for those women that are far wiser, filled with graciousness, and more nurturing than myself. It is a beautifully knitted tapestry woven together by many flawed pieces, bonding because of His grace and mercy at work within the walls of my very own home.

And I learned that different can be good, even necessary - to shake us out of our comfort zones. That the familiarity of being able to look into my kids' faces and remember myself as a child, or see the likeness of their father whom I so adore, to be able to recall their births and holding them in my arms as a tiny infant, is not the most important piece of what makes us one cohesive group called a family. It's not what makes me a mother.

I am beginning to see now that the process of choosing and being chosen for a task like this has a specialness all it's own - that love that starts this way is every bit as real and true and right and good and pure as the other kind I knew. Its birth and origin may not have been the same - the timing and growth may be different - but in fact, that unique quality it possesses, as something entirely different, completely new to me, foreign and strange and stretching and exposing and wonderful, is quite possibly the very best part of the whole thing.

It's never going to be the same, and that's really ok. I don't need to try so hard to find that sameness anymore - it's going to be altogether different.
And, different can be very good indeed.

And swim we did

The kids were model citizens on our getaway. Oh yes they were. Quiet in the hotel rooms and hallways. Excellently behaved in the restaurants. Ate hot wings like champs. Perfect on the drive. Received many compliments. {Cheaper Inn} was quite nice, very clean with 2 huge pools.

We had a fantastic time. Bobby and I needed to step away from the daily grind and truly enjoy our children. Really - We did - Need it - Yes - We surely did. We didn't know if that would happen or not. You never really know exactly what you're going to get with attitudes/temperaments/moods/tiredness/sibling squabbles on outings.
These things tend to go either way. Thankfully, this time it went ours.