on his mind

This note just came in from Scott via email. I love that even when we aren't together, we are.


Other staff member:  "Do you have a girl?"


Me:  "I have three of them."


Other staff:  "What were you just whistling?"


Me: "Uhh, the Little Mermaid.  I didn't even realize I was doing it!"


Other staff:  "That's funny, I knew you had to have a girl.  I love that movie!"

So, you can tell Abigail, et al, that their father walks around the hospital whistling Disney music!
Love you and miss you all!


Daddy

homeschool wagering

Dawson to Isabelle: If I ask you a question & you answer wrong, will you read a book?

Isabelle: Which book is it?

Dawson: It's a blind bet, so I can't reveal the book.

Isabelle: Okay. I think I can do it.

Dawson: Who was responsible for the Emmancipation Proclimation?

Isabelle: (thinks for a moment) Wasn't that Harry S Truman?

Dawson:(gleefully) Nope! He dropped the A Bomb! It was Abraham Lincoln!

Isabelle: Oh, man! What do I have to read?

Dawson: (hands her the book) You obviously need to read this one.

Isabelle: (looks at the title) The Emmancipation Proclimation? Fine. I'll read it. And then I'll quiz you on what is inside. And if you answer anything wrong, you have to read it.

Dawson: I'm too smart to agree to that!

Isabelle: If you were really smart, you would have read it before you challenged me.

Dawson: Drat. (sighs) I'll read it. But you'd better remember who was smart enough to make us both learn something today.

Freebie

Tucker has been anxiously awaiting the day he would be able to go pull weeds. Not because the kid is a lover of gardening, but because it was going to be an opportunity to go work with another family, whom he adores. Chris Weis and Tucker had arranged quite some time ago for Tucker to come over to their home and help with some yard work. But schedules being schedules means that both families weren't able to make it happen until this past Saturday.

I asked Tucker how he felt about going on Saturday since all the Dubach family was together and he assured me that he wanted to go help Chris because, "It's important to help others, mom." And so, Chris and Jenna came to pick him up at 1:00 in the afternoon with a plan for us to collect Tuck at 4:00 for our pizza dinner before going to a local, live nativity.

Tucker was actually given a ride home and I was busy enough that I barely said hello before moving on with our activities. I asked him how his time had gone and he replied enthusiastically that it had been great, that a lot had been accomplished, and that they finished with enough time to play some wii. It wasn't until Sunday that I heard some of the details about Tucker's version of service.

Within a few minutes of beginning his task in the Weis's yard, Tucker was asking "How long are we going to be working?" Chris assured him that while there wasn't a lot to do, they certainly weren't finished yet.

Jenna came out to help and Tucker was quite concerned that she was adding to his workload by going over to the side passed the line Chris had determined would be their stopping point. No matter how Jenna assured Tucker that she was just completing work she had started on another day, he kept making certain that she knew that they did not need to pull the weeds "over there."

Shortly after this, he asked "Is this a paying job or a freebie?" Jenna let him know that this job was a freebie. Tucker nodded and went back to work. Later, when Chris was driving him home, Tucker again asked if this was a paying job or a freebie. Since Jenna and Chris had already shared some of Tucker's earlier comments with one another, Chris was completely prepared to answer: "Freebie."

Tucker's compromise? "Okay. Maybe you could just take me to Chick-fil-A sometime. That seems fair."

Sigh.

a resounding yes

Our family is planning on participating in a group trip to the Outer Banks next fall. The coordinator of the trip recently sent out an email to confirm which of the families were planning on going. I found Scott's response too brilliant to be relegated to the cyber-wasteland.


HELLO!

I AM PUTTING MY NAME IN WHETHER MY WIFE WANTS TO GO OR NOT.  SHE CAN STAY HERE WITH THE KIDS IF SHE WANTS TO, BUT I'M GOING. SO PUT "LEE SCOTT RUTHERFORD" DOWN ON YOUR PAPER THERE, ALONG WITH A LITTLE STICK FIGURE OF A GUY FISHING.

I WOULD IMAGINE THAT TACY WILL LET YOU KNOW ABOUT THE REST OF THE FAMILY, BUT THE ODDS ARE THAT SHE WON'T WANT TO STAY BEHIND ALL BY HERSELF FOR A WHOLE WEEK.  SO, ON SECOND THOUGHT, JUST PUT DOWN 10 RUTHERFORDS WITH A STICK FIGURE OF A DAD UNTANGLING 8 FISHING LINES WHILE HIS WIFE LAYS ON THE BEACH SIPING MOJITOS WITH HER NEW BEST FRIEND, KATHY HARTZELL.

IF YOU CAN'T TELL, IT'S VERY LATE IN MY DAY, AND I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY WANT TO GO TO THE OUTERBANKS, OR REALLY ANYWHERE . . . TOMORROW WOULD BE GOOD.  SO SERIOUSLY, MARK DOWN THE RUTHERFORD CLAN, WE WANNA BE THERE.


Can you see why I married the guy?

tree hunt

We used to enjoy an annual "day of decorating" during which the entire house was transformed and the tree selected and decorated on the same day. But once the twins were born, Scott and I realized that trying to manage the daily ins and outs of a large family plus decorate an entire house meant that instead of it being a joyful, fun day it was a stressful, crazed, get-through-it kind of day.

And so, we busted up our decorating. Because we aren't trying to decorate everything at once, we all savor our time together. And an unexpected benefit was that we had more time to enjoy all the little things which mean Christmas is coming.

Phase One: the house. We transform our cozy abode into a magical, Christmas wonderland. 

Phase Two: tagging of the tree. During the weekend after Thanksgiving, we all bundle up to enjoy a long, long, long stroll through the woods while 10 people try to agree on the perfect tree. After we find the tree, we stop in the ornament shop where everyone chooses a new ornament for the tree. Our goal is to be able to send each of the children off from the nest with a nice, big box of Christmas memories from all of our years together.

Phase Three: killing the tree. A week or so after the tree is tagged we return to the farm to chop the tree down, bring it home, and allow it to dry out before draping it with electric lights. 

Phase Four: trimming the tree. Within the next day or two, we work together to fill it with memories and more memories. This time as a family is by far one of my favorites every year as each Little Rutherford shares stories and laughter over all the ornaments as they are brought our of the bins.

And so, in the spirit of enjoying the season a little bit at a time, here are some pictures of our afternoon adventures while scouting out the perfect tree.

Elyas clutching a chocolate chip cookie and asking Santa for trains for Christmas. Unfortunately, we learned that the trains Elyas desired were the ones circling the trees on either side of Santa.

Keats with Santa. We didn't realize Santa would be at the barn when we arrived to tag our tree and Keats was particularly excited!

Abigail talked with Santa about his life in the North Pole, being married, working with elves. Only when she was getting down did she remember to ask for gifts.

Aidan really wanted to talk to Santa, but he was very nervous. He didn't stay on Santa's lap for very long!

Alas! My favorite Christmas tree cannot be hand selected and chopped down. And so, I gave it a hug and went walking through the woods with the family.

Elyas, ready to be carried.

Scott teaching the children the southern art of grass-gnawin'.

Aidan -- like father, like son.

Elyas preferred studying the grass to chewing.

Elyas continuing to help us look for the tree, even as the sun begins to set.

Dawson and Tucker finally found the perfect tree. They proudly posed victorious with our tagging flag.

The whole crew (minus photographer Scott) and our new tree.

And now we can see Scott and the tree.

Isabelle all smiles as we begin the walk back to the barn and our van.

Scott and Aidan, with appropriately grass-stained knees considering all the tumbling down of hills which occurred.

Heading west.

waiting

How much of our days are spent waiting? Right now I am waiting on laundry to finish drying so I can place another load into the washer so I can go upstairs to bed. Earlier, Shelby was waiting for me to come home from running an errand so she could go up to bed. Earlier still, the littles were excitedly waiting for Scott to wake up so we could decorate the house for Christmas.

In a family of 10, it seems someone is always waiting for something. Frequently, it's the bathroom.

But lately (and today especially) I have found myself spending a lot of my energy encouraging, admonishing, cajoling, and bellowing at Dawson to use his "waiting time" better. He is the king of time wasting followed by my all-time-least-favorite-excuse for miscellaneous items not yet accomplished: I didn't have time. To which he usually receives his all-time-least-favorite-retort back from me: Are you kidding me?

What exactly happens at the age of 13 to that teen-age boy brain? Was he invaded by some sort of alien force which sucks away all the training we have laboriously worked to instill over the years? It is some sort of hormone wash that coats the neurons, causing major black outs in common sense from time to time? And if so, is this like electricity where they have rolling black outs so there will still be glimmers of hope here and there? Is this a permanent phenomenon or a temporary one?

I don't have any idea.

What I do know is this: I love that kid like crazy. And I will persevere on the faith that eventually all the years of effort into molding a decent, hardworking, respectable, gentleman of a man will come flooding back into his consciousness and I will look into his eyes and say: There you are Dawson. I knew you'd come back.

overly tender

Keats didn't sleep well Saturday night. He came into our room around 11:30 and snuggled with Scott for a little while before being gently carried back to his room. At 1:30, Keats came in again, a little weepier than normal, and curled up between the two of us before falling into a fitful sleep.

Yesterday, around dinner time, Keats crawled up onto Scott's lap during the football game and snuggled in. He had spent his Sunday in a relatively normal way. We went to worship together, then I left early with Tucker, Keats, Aidan, Abigail, and Elyas in order to pick Shelby up from her weekend away at Youth Advance, a leadership conference for teens in the Northeast. Once we had Shelby, we then headed back to our county for Tucker's final soccer game. Keats joined Aidan, Abigail, and Elyas in playing a game of soccer with all of the other younger brothers and sisters on a field behind the game. He never gave any sign that he wasn't feeling well.

That is, until he was curled against Scott. After a quarter or so of the game, I noticed that Keats' normally rosy cheeks were now looking a little sunburned. Scott checked and sure enough, Keats had developed a fever. It wasn't overly high, but we gave him Motrin before bedtime anyway, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.

Again, Keats joined us a few times throughout the night, finally coming in to stay around 2 in the morning. He stayed curled tight to my side and I noticed throughout the night that he seemed quite stiff and unable to relax.

This morning, Keats came to me and said in a tremulous voice, "Mommy, there is something coming out of my ear." He pointed to the ear causing his concern and I saw the telltale drainage of a ruptured eardrum. I can't even begin to express how puzzled I felt, as when Aidan's eardrum would rupture, it was a major event with a lot of screaming and writhing in pain. And the only other time Keats had an eardrum rupture, it was also accompanied by a lot of pain-induced noise.

I asked him if his ear had been sore and he nodded. I then asked if it had been hurting and he nodded. So then I asked what I felt was the next logical question: why didn't you tell us?

Keats replied:  "I knew that the pain would go away and when it hurt too badly, I could always go to you and daddy and you would hold me. So I didn't need to cry and complain because you and daddy were there to hold me. I didn't want to cry too much, because that might make you sad, too."

I gave him a big hug and told him that while I was very impressed with his act of bravery, that I would never think less of him if he told us he was in pain.  As I was holding my courageous six-year-old, I found myself wondering what caused him to grow up so quickly. And then he asked his next question, instantly assuaging my fears that he was growing up too fast.

"Mommy, will my ear fall off?"

accidental eating

Keats: "Mom! Abigail snuck a cookie!"

self: "Keats, did you see her eat the cookie?"

Keats: "No, I just saw the bin open."

self: "Then you don't know if Abigail even ate a cookie."

Keats: "Yes-huh! She smells like cookie!"

self: "But you don't know for certain, so you can't come in accusing your sister. You can, however, say you suspect that Abigail ate a cookie."

Keats: "Ok."

self: "I'll ask Abigail, though. Will that seem just to you?"

Keats: "Yes, if I can witness."

self: "Okay. Sure. Abigail!" [Abigail comes trip-trapping down the hall.]

self: "Abigail, did you eat a cookie?"

Abigail: "Yes. But I didn't sneak. I simply forgot to ask permission before I ate it. And now, it is in my belly, so I can't give it back. I'm so sorry mom."

Keats: "May I have a cookie, then?"

self: "Well, I guess you may each have a cookie."

Abigail: "Me too?"

self: "No, Abigail. You already ate a cookie. You told me so yourself."

Abigail: "But that was an accidental eating! It shouldn't count!"

self: "Totally counts. Sorry, Ab."

[Abigail sobs uncontrollably  and heads for the stairs, her go-to place when perceived injustice occurs.]

oh, to be young

Abigail relaxing. Really.

baby squash

Dad planted butternut squash this year as one of his experimental veggies in his organic vegetable garden.  When he brought one over for us to cook down into soup, we ran into a snag. You see, where we saw food Abigail saw a dolly.

For several days, she carried it around just as it was, wrapped tenderly in a blanket. It was only after Keats pronounced that her dolly was "creepy because it has no face" did she request that we add a face complete with curly hair to match her own. The face was such a success that soon after Abigail requested hands, clothes, and feet.

She and her Baby Squash had many adventures together before the poor squash finally succumbed to that malady which impacts all good vegetables which are frequently dropped, bashed, and run over by boys: rot.

We had a short funeral over the garbage can before Abigail unceremoniously dumped Baby Squash into the can. We heard a dull thud before Abigail went off to wash off her hands. She explained her reasoning so gently: "I don't want to have any Baby Squash juice on me. She was just getting yucky!"

Ah, the never ending depths of a mother's love.

piano runnin

Wednesday morning are our piano lesson days. In an ideal world, we are all up between 6 - 6:30 am in order to ensure we have plenty of time to get ourselves ready to go.

However, it is not always an ideal world, so usually our morning goes something like this:

7:15 - finally get out of bed; scrub face & teeth, get dressed. Skip makeup.

7:20 - wakes kids up gently.

7:25 - drag kids forcibly from bed/rip covers off body to generate movement.

7:30 - morph into Nag-Mom, which consists of reminding various Little Rutherfords every few minutes, "It's piano day - move faster!"

7:40 - check on morning chores to see what has been accomplished thus far: dishwasher emptied, paper recycling and piano books by the door, towel load started in washer, Abigail dressed, Elyas diaper changed (yet still mostly naked.)

7:42 - Bellow up the stairs that dad is due home in minutes and I'm telling on every child who isn't down stairs pronto!

7:45 - Begin assigning responsibilities to the bodies which are miraculously appearing before my very eyes. Send Keats back upstairs to put on pants, as they are definitely not optional.

7:48 - Greet Scott as he comes through the door. Remind Dawson to take commingled out back and return with the bag for drop off at the center on our way to piano. Go upstairs to get the rest off the dirty laundry and have a quick chat with Scott about his night.

8:00 - Morph into Super-Nag-Mom as I realize upon returning downstairs that every instruction I gave has been ignored. "Piano is a life skill and is not optional! Now GO GO GO!!!"

8:15 - Sit down for a moment to have breakfast with the kids. (Banana bread) Go over what school items they have assembled for their time at piano. Remind them of the items they have forgotten.

8:25 - Begin to load dishes as they come into the kitchen. Super-Nag the littles to finish their morning milk. Tell Dawson that if he can't focus he gets to clean every bathroom in the house all by his onsie this afternoon. Mind boggling how quickly he can change into Super-Focused-Teen.

8:30 - Alarm goes off on my phone reminding me it's time to start putting parkas on. Become Crazed-Super-Nag-Mom forcing everyone to increase their speed to that of light.

8:35 - Begin to herd Rutherfords to the van accompanied by backpacks, tote bags, packages to be shipped, commingled, and paper recycling.

8:40 - After only two "I Forgot!" trips back into the house, everyone is buckled and I start the car.

8:45 - Pull into recycling center and drop off our weekly accumulation.

8:50 - Pull into Dunkin Donuts where I order my standard reward coffee for accomplishing our getting out the doorness - XL Regular with extra cream and extra sugar. Pick up a Large Decaf cream & sugared coffee for our piano instructor.

9:02 - Pull into piano, only 2 minutes late.

Phew.

mish-mash

Our door dresser serves as a storage unit for gadget cables, hats/gloves/scarves, and girlie-hair stuff. The back third of the top is where we keep our bibles, glasses, cameras, and cell phones.

The front portion is supposed to be reserved for collecting items as we are preparing to leave the house or storage for people when they are visiting. However, family being family, it sometimes gets used as a catch-all on our way from one room of the house to another.

I came down one afternoon and glanced at the door dresser. I had just been putting some clean laundry away and wasn't thrilled to see more stuff to be put away. Then I sheepishly realized that most of it was my stuff anyway. (Thankfully I noticed before I bellowed at the kids.)

Then I was struck by the absolute bizarre combination. There was the People Magazine Scott had brought home. We do not live far from the Gosselin family of Jon & Kate Plus 8 fame & are frequently contrasted with their family when we are out and about in the community. Scott said he just had to read the cover article and brought it home for me to look at. We were both concerned at the portrayal of a family as "in need" living in their very, very, very nice home.

Then there was the cardboard box from Elyas's recent order of Tom's Shoes. We are so impressed with the company's dedication to helping others. Tom's motto is One for One, meaning that for every pair of shoes you purchase, they will give a pair of shoes to a child needing shoes in countries such as Haiti, Argentina, and Africa. We can't afford to purchase Tom's for all of the kids, but the Shoes for Elyas were the same price as the Robeez we usually buy and far less than the Stride Rites. And, as we have worked hard to become more deliberate in our decisions and use of money, we feel Tom's is a good fit when we can do it.

Then there was the book I had grabbed off the New Arrivals rack at the library, Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein. I thought it would mostly be the woman power, stick it to 'em,  hippie-feminista nonsense I have come to expect whenever I read something designed to educate me on the mine-field of life my daughters are wading through. However, the title intrigued me and so I planned to skim it and return it a few days later. Instead, I found myself engrossed and mesmerized as I read through thoughts on the "girl culture" that we largely avoid due to homeschooling. Shelby, Isabelle, Scott, & I had many discussions centered around each chapter as I read parts aloud and we discussed it together.

And, of course, there was my standard morning cup of coffee which I am forever losing. I take it with me all over the house for most of the morning and it isn't unusual for me to call out, "Has anyone seen my coffee? I've lost it again!" The kids love it because for all the things I remember (both the important and the mundane), they don't understand how I can loose a mug filled with coffee several times a day, day after day. It really is ridiculous.

There it all was in one place - the miss-mash of my interests assembled before my very eyes. It was like looking at a representation of my brain. I could see for just a moment the contradictions of my Physics and English Literature majors: the gossip magazine, the philanthropic shoes, the culture wars book, and my caffeine addiction all rolled into one.

Which then lead me to look at the children a little differently all day. I found myself wondering if I pigeon hole them without intent, expecting each one to follow a set path based on what I think should relate to their likes and dislikes. It lead to a lot of conversations over the next several days: Why would you do it that way? Why do you like this and not that? What do you think about  . . . ?

It is much easier to presume we know someone based on stereotypes than to take the time to investigate further. I learned a lot about my kids during those chats, and they in turn learned a lot about themselves and each other. It was, in all actuality, very cool.

Now, the challenge is to remember.

halloween humor

Before I post our costumes for the year, I thought I should take a moment and share some stories from our night.

Elyas, who actually remembered the whole Trick-or-Treating process from last year, spent most of his time with Scott. We would take turn accompanying them up to the door in order to absorb some of the more charming Halloween moments. Elyas really enjoyed just looking at everything on everyone's porches. The candy seemed to be an afterthought, although a happy one.

At one home, Elyas was given a list of candies to choose from. He held up one finger, did a no-no-no motion, and stated: "M&Ms. Please." The homeowner said that he didn't have M&Ms. Elyas looked him in the eye and said, "No thank you. I'm finished." And then he walked back down the stairs. At another, the owner's had done a great job of creating a very creepy home and were all dressed up on their porch to add to the drama. Elyas, though, wasn't a fan and finally asked Scott to take him away. As Scott carried him down the driveway, Elyas announced in his singsongy way, "That was a creeper!"

We were surprised at the mild weather given the 9" of snow which had fallen just two days before. It was a nice surprise though, as it meant we were able to stay out much longer than anticipated and we could really enjoy the lights and decorations once it became dark. And the darker it became, the more families were joining us on the street. Towards the end of our loop of the neighborhood, we were all commenting on the overwhelming Dick-and-Jane feeling to the night.

At one home, several children joined ours on the stairs to someone's home. As the first of the costumed kids began to make their way back to the sidewalk, my dad grabbed one. As the kids struggled, my dad held tighter and began to say things like, "I'll never let you go. No matter how you struggle." I looked over and realized that the kids my dad had grabbed was not one of ours. Thankfully, everyone was laughing as the released prisoner ran off to join his friends.

It was a great night, with lots of fun and laughter. It was nice to have Nana and Papaw along with us after several years of their traveling during the Halloween season. I managed quite well on my crutches and all total we hauled in over 60 pounds of candy.

Our annual candy breakfast was a smashing success, accompanied this year by a reading of the cauldron scene from Macbeth. And then, the kids all moved seamlessly into their daily routines accompanied by some friends who had come to spend the day with us.

It was a lot of fun. And now, without further delay, the snaps:

all 8 in their finery

Shelby as Amelia Earhart
She had toyed with being a surfer,
but the snow put an end to that notion.
As it was, this costume had the most positive reaction
of any she has ever worn!

Dawson as Dylan Haigh
A family friend whom Dawson admires.

Isabelle as a Ranger's Apprentice.
Based on the series of books by John Flanagan, this is the first year Isabelle branched away from admiring Shelby's ideas and simply came up with her own costume. The result was something she felt a great deal of pride in.

Tucker as Legolas.
His original intention was to be a Moria Orc, but when Aunt Jenna told him she had found a Legolas  costume, his eyes lit up and he changed his mind immediately.

Keats as Mario and Aidan as Luigi
When we made these costumes last year, it was with the hope that they boys would want to wear them again this year. Success!

Abigail as a Wood Fairy
Abigail was the Wood Fairy last year as well. She loved the costume so much  that she would check on it as it hung in Daddy's closet all year. This costume was lovingly made by Aunt Jenna 11 years ago in order for Shelby to wear it at the age of 4.

Elyas as Buzz Lightyear
This costume is a hand-me-down from the twins beloved Buzz and Woody days.

The haul
Weight total? 68.5 pounds.

end of an era

We received our first iMac with the 1998 release of the colorful g3 computers. For weeks, the youth group would come to our house for Youth Group Monday and just want to play with the computer. Our home computer had always been a Mac, but now we were completely sold. The simplicity of the all-in-one machine was just what this family was looking for.

Alas, as time always does to electronics, our lime green iMac's era in our home has ended. It is still in great working condition, but it just can't keep up with today's software. And so, as our new iMac is being tweaked and our now-for-school eMac is being is being stripped down, we are prepping our greenie for shipment to the Apple recycling facility in California.

It was a good, long run.

missing mom

Just a quick view of what happens when mom can't walk and the soccer game temperature is 41 and rainy. While we spread most of the family responsibilities out amongst us all, laundry is still pretty much my job. None of the kids had ever seen the laundry room piled in the manner, so when it happened on October 2, they had to take pictures!

slown down

When I broke my foot on Sept. 26, I really thought it was some sort of untimely joke arranged by God Himself. We were in the midst of soccer practice & games, full blown school, prepping for a piano adjudication & youth rally (both on the upcoming Saturday), and Scott already committed to work an extra 24 hours on a floor that absolutely needed him. Not to mention we have Halloween just a month away and at least two costumes which need making, including purchasing supplies. And there was that pesky sewing machine that gave out as I put the final stitches in the Alice costume last year which I still hadn't taken in to be repaired. In my mind, there was simply no time for me to have a broken foot.

As the orthopedist began to wrap my foot and give me directions, I felt my hopes rise. No cast, so surely I can drive and move around. Perhaps this won't be quite as bad as previously envisioned.

Alas, it was going to be exactly as bad as we had envisioned. I was expected to sit with my foot propped for most of the next 10 - 14 days. I was not to even consider driving for a minimum of three weeks. I was to use crutches for a minimum of 3 weeks, and wean off them gradually, using pain and swelling as my guide. And I should be grateful to the comparatively minor injury I sustained, given that most people who put the amount of stress onto their tendon I did end up in surgery with 6 months of recovery due to a shredded muscle. That I should be really impressed with the health and strength of my body.

Are you kidding me???

And so, we began to work things around my foot. The boys were all willing to give up soccer, but we had four different families call and offer rides to and from practice and games to make certain the boys could continue. A dear friend took Isabelle shopping for her costume supplies and another offered to continue the girls' sewing lessons by using the cape for her Ranger's Apprentice costume as the project. And to top it off, my machine was picked up, delivered to the repair shop, and then returned home, all while I lounged on the couch with my foot propped on pillows.

As other families were leaving for the store, they called to get our lists and would swing groceries and supplies by our home before they went on to their own. We had a family who went on our weekly Sam's run for us and, as if that weren't enough, they would bring us lunch and dinner for the day. Another family went to the farm for our weekly raw-milk run, making sure we never ran out of milk for those growing bones.

We were amazed at the sheer volume of support and love which threatened to overwhelm us. Every errand was done, every need was met, and it was all done with smiles and cheerfulness. All of the extra activities and events we had planned months before were still attended, with over a dozen people making certain that each Little Rutherford was delivered and returned.

And as I sat about on my couch throne, I was treated to visit after visit with dear friends and family. What a delight it was to just be able to talk and talk and talk! And for once, it really didn't matter that there were 14 kids in the house playing with every possible toy, lego, sword, nerf gun and train set because I couldn't do much about it anyway.

Over four weeks later, I am finally starting to move a little more freely. A few well-aimed, yet completely unintentional, crashes directly onto my fractured fifth metatarsal extended my healing time by a solid ten days. And we have all decided it is much better to be in a  family where everyone is able to participate in the daily goings-on. We all feel tremendously blessed to have such a large number of people who love us enough to help our family continue to run smoothly no matter what it took.

But mostly, I am grateful to Scott & the children. Scott, who would work a 16 hour stint at the hospital, stop by the grocery store to get more eggs & bread, and still come home cheerful, ready to visit briefly with everyone before going upstairs to get some well-earned rest. The kids really pulled together to accomplish just about everything within the home while also managing to keep up with their schooling, largely done around the couch. It wasn't always easy and during that first week we learned of some major gaps in our parenting. (Insert here: we had no idea just how much I was picking up on a daily basis or how poorly I was following through with requests to accomplish tasks. That was quite the shocker!)

So at the end of this particular challenge, I now feel confident in saying that it wasn't God's idea of a joke. Rather, it was God's providing an opportunity for us to learn so many, many things. We discovered major chinks in our family which, now that they are corrected, have helped us become a more cheerful and productive team. I have a new appreciation for the man I married and the quiet strength which he uses as he goes about the task of being the husband/dad/son/brother/friend/employee that he is. I see again the value in tuning out the fun the kids are having in order to focus on a dear friend. And I am utterly thankful for all the families who are a part of our daily lives.

We knew we are blessed. We just didn't realize just how much.

where does it go?

I don't think I'm alone in experiencing this phenomenon. The whole time is fleeting conundrum has been around since forever. But I am caught off guard by it anew today.

I signed onto our blog for the first time in weeks and glanced at the family pictures. There we all are: happy, tanned, and grinning in the midst of our summer fun. Which makes it even more ironic that today I seriously debated turning on the heater for the first time. (We didn't. I just told everyone to put on a second layer.)

Where did the days and weeks go? As we did school today and I helped with word problems and verb conjugations, studied caverns and mapped Ohio, explained binary compounds and listened to piano practice and readings, the time seemed to go so slowly. It didn't drag and it certainly wasn't boring. (Unless you count the three loads of laundry. They were relatively boring.) Yet I know that I'll blink and it will be Saturday.

I often find myself wondering if time will always move so quickly. And then I try to make a conscious effort to pay better attention to the people and the sights around me. Occasionally I wish I had taken time to enjoy our gardens this year, as we'll move in the spring before they bloom again. And yet, if I missed the gardens in order to spend more time with the family, is it really such a loss?

What exactly is time? Is it just the ticking of one second into the next combined into groups to make a minute which marches on into hours, days, and weeks? Or is it something more fluid? Is time an investment which gives us moments to make a lasting change which will, in a sense, stop time?

As I read through John & Abigail Adams book of letters I am struck again by the lasting impact their lives had on our country and myself. I admire their courage, their unity, and their Yankee gumption and I am forever grateful that they chose to save so much of what they wrote. It seems that they found a way to slow time down, if not stop it completely, in their letters.

This week, we received a copy of a recipe from Scott's Great-Great-Grandmother which was measured by hand and cooked on a woodstove in a double batch to ensure there was an entire pan for the dogs. Has her time really ended if I am still cooking her recipe and teaching my children about the days before electricity and supermarket dog food?

Tonight, I feel like time isn't so much a foe to be beaten back before wrinkles, gray hair, and an empty nest overtake me. Instead, it is a series of moments during which I have endless choices of how to spend it. It is my quiet encourager reminding me that I do not have forever and that I have to chose carefully and thoughtfully.

Of course, the day-to-day goings and comings will still occur. I will get up in the morning and take the children to piano after their breakfast. And we'll continue to read, conjugate, and figure.

But I'll also work a little bit harder to find those impressionable moments and grasp on tight. To set the laundry down long enough to look into a little one's shining eyes while they tell of an adventure or to give a shoulder to a teenager who is struggling to find a way to explain how they are feeling. To laugh and smile and visit more.

Because that is what they will remember. They'll remember the eyes and the hugs and the laughter, not the conjugations. And in their memory, we'll be happy.

And, perhaps, time will be forever. 

poor fit

We started our crazy schedule back on June 20. You know, the normal summer swim team/dive team/Camp Manatawny/summer-schooling nonsense that takes over Rutherford-dom for the better part of eight weeks. We really have a lot of fun when we're in the midst of it, but to be perfectly honest, we just sort of drop off the face of the earth as far as everyone around us in concerned. We literally disappear only to reappear mid-August at which point we resume our normal schedule.

This year, though, we decided to give soccer a try. We have always had reservations about the kids participating in team sports because of the time commitment. Swimming is a good family fit because the kids all enjoy it, they practice at the same time in the morning, they compete at the same meets, it's only six weeks long, and we still have most of our evenings free. It is a good balance. However, our experience with Little League wasn't great and during Scott's time as a youth minister we watched dozens of families over the years explain away frequent absences because of sports.

Don't get me wrong - sports are like anything else and they have their positives and negatives. But having eight kids means schedules can very quickly become clogged if you don't choose very carefully where to invest your time both individually and as a family.

So, after completing Keats and Aidan's season and being only three weekends away from the completion of Dawson's & Tucker's seasons, we have our verdict. For our family, most team sports are definitely back out. With four boys on three teams, we literally had 7-day a week soccer. And while there were some fun moments, overall we had to acknowledge that we just miss one another.

I knew for certain it wasn't working when Dawson looked at me this weekend and asked, "How much longer until we can read books together again at night?" And Shelby, who happened to overhear him as she was walking by chimed in with a mighty "Hear! Hear!"

Just this morning Tucker asked if anyone had practice tonight. After I told him no he grinned and immediately declared today a jammie day.

I know there are families who thrive on the hither and yon practices and games. But we are willing to admit that we are not that family. We are more the go for a walk/run before we clean the library grounds together and come home to a crock pot full of soup after which we'll shower and then play board games and finish off the evening with a great book type family.

And so, we will finish out this season with a better grasp on what is important to each of us both individually and as a family. And in the week that follows the final game, I will carefully clean the barely used cleats, shin guards, uniforms, and cups for listing on eBay and Craigslist. Well, maybe not the cups.

Maybe.

tech soccer

I am a big fan of being there live for major events. There is nothing like feeling the music as well as hearing it when you go to the orchestra. A musical performed on stage with you in the audience has an incredible magic. And the crack of a bat while you're working your mouth around bite of hotdog and sitting on a hard bleacher is pretty much an iconic experience.

And so, when my kids are involved in a sporting event, I like to see it. I like to be engulfed in the wet hugs after a great swim race and swat at mosquitos while giving a thumbs up for a great effort on the soccer field. (Notice that I say effort here. The boys -- all of them -- are still very much learning soccer. And, quite frankly, Tucker is having to learn to play with a cup. But that is probably fodder for another posting.)

However, one broken foot and a large measure of acceptance later, I was unable to be at tonight's soccer game. Keats and Aidan took the field in their blue uniforms which pay homage to Italy, without their mother in her signature pink chair to cheer them on. I hated it. So, in typical girl-fashion, I got on the phone to chat with a very dear friend. And as Scott and I are still very much opposed to even the idea of call waiting, I ignored the beeps as texts came in. Truly, immeshed in my annual typical birthday arrogance, I figured they were simply more well wishes.

Yet when I did get off the phone, what I discovered was a delightful accounting of all I had missed by being forced to sit still with my foot propped higher than my heart. And I am again having to acknowledge that as old-fashioned a girl I may still be about some things, I do appreciate texting. And so, before tonight's memories are lost to my delete all function, I felt I should record them for posterity's sake.


Text 1: These fields smell like the Dead Marshes. The game has not started and all of the kids legs and butts are caked with mud!


Text 2: Mosquitos!!


Text 3: And England scores on the goalie, Aidan. 1 to 0


Text 4: And they scored again. 2-0


Text 5: Now Keats is goalie. Aidan now on offense -- forward.


Text 6: And England scores on Keats. 3-0


Text 7: 4-0 .......sigh.


Text 8: And Keats saves a goal! Woot, woot! The crowd cheers! Keats smiles proudly.


Text 9: Half-time. England 6, Italia 0.


Text 10: Bugs 1, me about 15.


Text 11:Keats dribbles the ball on a breakaway. Runs the length of the field, he shoots -- GOAL!!!!! Score: 6-1


Text 12: Sanka -- are ya dead?*

*Scott, feeling ignored from my lack of response, closed his texting monologue using a homage to a favorite movie from our younger days, Cool Runnings. If you haven't seen it, you're missing out. 

little english

One of my favorite two-year-old developments is listening to their vocabulary grow as they speak words in the utterly charming, lilting voice only a two-year old has.

Elays speaks some words which are remarkably clear, such as: yes, sword, punch, signing time, watch, Shelby, daddy, mommy, please, no thank you, Abigail, apple, banana, have it, buckle me. And the one I wish he'd never learned: gimme.

Others require a very intimate knowledge of the inner workings of Elyas's vocabulary to figure out. And of course, these are my favorites. I have always loved hearing our littlest ones trying so very hard to tell us what it is they want, even before they can wrap their little mouths around the complicated sounds.

pin-pin-yus and feerrb = "Phineas and Ferb"
Bee-low = Isabelle
Elyassshhh = Elyas
yout-seed = outside
meeelk = milk
Chippie = Mr. Chip
orangsh = orange
lipping! = I'm slipping!
crebible = The Incredibles (a favorite)
housh = house
hole jew? = Will you hold me?
Dawsh = Dawson
pleene = trampoline
Keetsy n Ayedeen = Keats and Aidan
Binamin = Benjamin


I think one of the reasons I treasure the efforts which fall short is because I know only to well just how fast they will be a distant memory. In the blink of an eye he'll be asking to watch Phineas and Ferb with Isabelle when we get to the house. And I can't ever bring myself to regret the change, because watching each of these precious kids grow is such a joy.

But in the meantime, I will relish in the translation-required-speaking of our Elyas.

this is the house

originally complied in April, 2011

This is the house that Jack built.

This is the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

These are the children who use the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

These are the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the store that sells the faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the $19 (on sale!) faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the team who came to actually repair the plumbing after the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the van that went back to the store for lines, valves, and putty (oh my!) for the man who came to actually repair the plumbing after the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

These are the supplies brought back by the van that went back to the store for lines, valves, and putty (oh my!) for the man who came to actually repair the plumbing after the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the water main which burst when installing the supplies brought back by the van that went back to the store for lines, valves, and putty (oh my!) for the man who came to actually repair the plumbing after the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the phone that called the water company for the $150 emergency shut off for the water main which burst when installing the supplies brought back by the van that went back to the store for lines, valves, and putty (oh my!) for the man who came to actually repair the plumbing after the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

These are the towels used to soak up the water after the call to the water company for the $150 emergency shut off for the water main which burst when installing the supplies brought back by the van that went back to the store for lines, valves, and putty (oh my!) for the man who came to actually repair the plumbing after the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the van that drove to the store for a new valve while the towels are used to soak up the water after the call to the water company for the $150 emergency shut off for the water main which burst when installing the supplies brought back by the van that went back to the store for lines, valves, and putty (oh my!) for the man who came to actually repair the plumbing after the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the newly repaired water main valve after the return of the van that drove to the store for a new valve while the towels are used to soak up the water after the call to the water company for the $150 emergency shut off for the water main which burst when installing the supplies brought back by the van that went back to the store for lines, valves, and putty (oh my!) for the man who came to actually repair the plumbing after the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

This is the finished project total of $270 to turn the water back on using the newly repaired water main valve after the return of the van that drove to the store for a new valve while the towels are used to soak up the water after the call to the water company for the $150 emergency shut off for the water main which burst when installing the supplies brought back by the van that went back to the store for lines, valves, and putty (oh my!) for the man who came to actually repair the plumbing after the broken water supply line caused by the team who attempted to install the faucet which came in the package with deceptively simple instructions that's in the store that sells the $19 (on sale!) faucet to the lady who drives the van which transports the children who broke the faucet that is in the house that Jack built.

The end.