I have so much enjoyed the many blogs you all have sent me along the way, and decided to begin one for our family. I hope to post regularly, but I'm finding that while homeschooling the only thing I do "regularly" is laundry. Those of you with large families know what I mean...and those who don't can imagine.
If you are reading our blog, chances are you already know a lot about our family. However, if you are less acquainted with us, pull up a cup o' joe and a comfy chair and read along!
Joe and I married in 1994. In 1996 we welcomed our first son, Brad. He was quickly followed by his sister Lindsay in 1997 and brother Nathan in 1998. We slept very little from '96-'99.
Brad, Lindsay, Nathan in 1999The cherry on top of our sundae, Hannah, was born in January 2004. This is when our roller coaster began. Here is a pic of the gang now. The beauty on top is our niece, Juliette. Aren't they adorable? Thanks, we think so, too.
Brad (11), Lindsay (9), Juliette, Nathan (8), Kaylee (5), Hannah (3) in 2007 On a little less interesting note, we also have 2 dogs (a 13-year-old mini dachshund named Mowgli and a 1-year-old mini-schnauzer named Ivy). Mowgli was our firstborn of sorts. Joe gave him to me as a graduation gift when I graduated from college (that's ASU, BS in Zoology in Dec. 1994, for those interested) He was 10 weeks old and weighed 5 lbs. I won't disgrace him by telling his present weight, but he's no poster child for low-fat dog food, that's for sure.
Our daughter Hannah was born in January of 2004. She came out screaming bloody murder, and, at 3 1/2 years old, has just recently stopped. :) At 9 months old she was diagnosed with severe food allergies and eosinophilic disease. So the doctor both of us on a no-beef, no-dairy, no-egg, no-soy, no-wheat, no-gluten-of-any-kind (i.e. nothing that tastes good) diet. Suffice it to say, that was the end of nursing. And, following countless endoscopies, medications, trials and errors (there were plenty of those!) our precious little girl is healthy and thriving. She is a pixie, but makes up for her size with enormous spunk and vigor.
This little glimpse of childhood illness was the tip of the iceberg for what God had in store for us as a family. Though Hannah's illness was not life-threatening, the horror of knowing how much pain she was in, coupled with her constant, intense screaming and not being able to do anything about it, taught us some "big-picture" lessons we needed to know. More to come on that.
Our clan presently resides in the desert. It's hot here. I mean, really hot. I grew up in the mountains. Seasons meant actually using a jacket, a rake, an umbrella...those things are more or less obsolete here. We do get monsoons. These are fierce rainstorms. The joy of a monsoon, as I see it, is that you get anywhere from 5 to 10 minutes of flying dust so thick you can't see your neighbor's house across the street, 3 minutes of torrential downpour, enough wind to make your patio chairs take flight into the next yard, and then blue sky. In general, the whole thing wraps up in less than 15 minutes and then you can get back to risking your life to trim your 75 foot palm tree. Once a year you might get enough rain to actually fill up one of the 4 or 5 "water retention" basins around your neighborhood. The fun is to see if the water percolates into the ground faster than the mosquito eggs lying on top can hatch. If not, your HOA gets a hefty fine and a chance to play Russian Roulette with West Nile Virus.
Joe and I have been blessed with really good friends. I mean it...when it comes to friends, we lead a very charmed life. In 1994, just before we got married, we met several couples in a "Newly Marrieds" group at church. Most groups like this dissipate quickly, but somehow ours has hung on for all this time. We have endured A LOT together (for starters, more baby showers than any one person should ever have to endure). We've even vacationed together-the cardinal sin of friendship! We've lost parents, grandparents, and even a child together. This is the iceberg I mentioned. This is a long story, so it might be time to refill your drink.
Our very good friends, CR and Amy, have 4 children. We each started our families with a son, then had a daughter, then a son, then a daughter. We just happened to follow ours up with another daughter. Our children have been raised closer than cousins. Our oldest boys are 11 now and their interests are uncannily alike. As the world's foremost experts on Legos, they offer constructive criticism on each other's creations. (And, much to their younger brothers' chagrin, they offer the same critiques to everyone else's creations!) Our daughters, Lindsay and Abby, had the same sweet relationship from the beginning. Lindsay was born almost exactly one year before Abby (Abby and Nathan were born one week apart). Lindsay and Abby filled their time with dance lessons, Barbie Dolls, Polly Pockets, sleepovers, and all things girly. That is, until one scary day in May 2004 when Abby had a siezure. She was 5. It turned out Abby had a brain tumor. Life changed overnight. Suddenly our days were filled with fear, hope, hospitals, doctors, awful words like "chemotherapy" and "radiation" and, in August 2005, "terminal."
Abby left us to be with Jesus on December 6, 2005. Answering questions like "where do babies come from?" and "why is the sky blue?" became the questions we longed to answer. Instead, we had to try to explain to our children why Abby was gone. Why would God allow this to happen? Where is she now? What hope do we have of seeing her again?
Enter hope.
As Christians, we have always believed in the hope of eternal life, but until we were met face-to-face with the need to cling to that hope, we almost took it for granted. Now it is on our hearts and in our conversation daily. The children have become so unencumbered when it comes to discussing Jesus with their friends. He is so real to them, and we are so excited about that! They want to serve Him with their lives. And, we are thrilled that God is leading our family to a ministry that will allow us all to serve others and also to share the hope we have with other families in crisis. For more information about the ministry we are getting involved with, please visit hopekids.org.
Our daughter Hannah was born in January of 2004. She came out screaming bloody murder, and, at 3 1/2 years old, has just recently stopped. :) At 9 months old she was diagnosed with severe food allergies and eosinophilic disease. So the doctor both of us on a no-beef, no-dairy, no-egg, no-soy, no-wheat, no-gluten-of-any-kind (i.e. nothing that tastes good) diet. Suffice it to say, that was the end of nursing. And, following countless endoscopies, medications, trials and errors (there were plenty of those!) our precious little girl is healthy and thriving. She is a pixie, but makes up for her size with enormous spunk and vigor.
This little glimpse of childhood illness was the tip of the iceberg for what God had in store for us as a family. Though Hannah's illness was not life-threatening, the horror of knowing how much pain she was in, coupled with her constant, intense screaming and not being able to do anything about it, taught us some "big-picture" lessons we needed to know. More to come on that.
Our clan presently resides in the desert. It's hot here. I mean, really hot. I grew up in the mountains. Seasons meant actually using a jacket, a rake, an umbrella...those things are more or less obsolete here. We do get monsoons. These are fierce rainstorms. The joy of a monsoon, as I see it, is that you get anywhere from 5 to 10 minutes of flying dust so thick you can't see your neighbor's house across the street, 3 minutes of torrential downpour, enough wind to make your patio chairs take flight into the next yard, and then blue sky. In general, the whole thing wraps up in less than 15 minutes and then you can get back to risking your life to trim your 75 foot palm tree. Once a year you might get enough rain to actually fill up one of the 4 or 5 "water retention" basins around your neighborhood. The fun is to see if the water percolates into the ground faster than the mosquito eggs lying on top can hatch. If not, your HOA gets a hefty fine and a chance to play Russian Roulette with West Nile Virus.
Joe and I have been blessed with really good friends. I mean it...when it comes to friends, we lead a very charmed life. In 1994, just before we got married, we met several couples in a "Newly Marrieds" group at church. Most groups like this dissipate quickly, but somehow ours has hung on for all this time. We have endured A LOT together (for starters, more baby showers than any one person should ever have to endure). We've even vacationed together-the cardinal sin of friendship! We've lost parents, grandparents, and even a child together. This is the iceberg I mentioned. This is a long story, so it might be time to refill your drink.
Our very good friends, CR and Amy, have 4 children. We each started our families with a son, then had a daughter, then a son, then a daughter. We just happened to follow ours up with another daughter. Our children have been raised closer than cousins. Our oldest boys are 11 now and their interests are uncannily alike. As the world's foremost experts on Legos, they offer constructive criticism on each other's creations. (And, much to their younger brothers' chagrin, they offer the same critiques to everyone else's creations!) Our daughters, Lindsay and Abby, had the same sweet relationship from the beginning. Lindsay was born almost exactly one year before Abby (Abby and Nathan were born one week apart). Lindsay and Abby filled their time with dance lessons, Barbie Dolls, Polly Pockets, sleepovers, and all things girly. That is, until one scary day in May 2004 when Abby had a siezure. She was 5. It turned out Abby had a brain tumor. Life changed overnight. Suddenly our days were filled with fear, hope, hospitals, doctors, awful words like "chemotherapy" and "radiation" and, in August 2005, "terminal."
Abby left us to be with Jesus on December 6, 2005. Answering questions like "where do babies come from?" and "why is the sky blue?" became the questions we longed to answer. Instead, we had to try to explain to our children why Abby was gone. Why would God allow this to happen? Where is she now? What hope do we have of seeing her again?Enter hope.
As Christians, we have always believed in the hope of eternal life, but until we were met face-to-face with the need to cling to that hope, we almost took it for granted. Now it is on our hearts and in our conversation daily. The children have become so unencumbered when it comes to discussing Jesus with their friends. He is so real to them, and we are so excited about that! They want to serve Him with their lives. And, we are thrilled that God is leading our family to a ministry that will allow us all to serve others and also to share the hope we have with other families in crisis. For more information about the ministry we are getting involved with, please visit hopekids.org.
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