Happy 15th Day of Birth, Wondertwins!

I used to think there were no words to express how much I love my Shorties, but as always, God wrote it best.

In the book of Romans, God is telling His people how nothing, nothing can ever separate us from the love of God through Jesus Christ. It's exactly how I love my children.

Romans 8:35-39

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:

   “For your sake we face death all day long;
    we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

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And I ever give thanks with my mouth, my body, my actions, my thoughts praising God the Father from whom all blessings flow!

Psalm 113

¹ Praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord, you his servants;
    praise the name of the Lord.
² Let the name of the Lord be praised,
    both now and forevermore.
³ From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets,  the name of the Lord is to be praised.

⁴ The Lord is exalted over all the nations,  his glory above the heavens.
⁵ Who is like the Lord our God,
    the One who sits enthroned on high,
⁶ who stoops down to look
    on the heavens and the earth?

⁷ He raises the poor from the dust
    and lifts the needy from the ash heap;
⁸ he seats them with princes,
    with the princes of his people.
⁹ He settles the childless woman in her home
    as a happy mother of children.

Praise the Lord.

Elaina

First day of preschool

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

⁹ Two are better than one,
    because they have a good return for their labor:
¹⁰ If either of them falls down,
    one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
    and has no one to help them up.
¹¹ Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
    But how can one keep warm alone?
¹² Though one may be overpowered,
    two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

 

Elise

Elaina

Elise

Elaina

Elise

2014 birthday trip to the beach

2008 at the beach

2011 b'day

2010 bday

2010 New York City

Bday trip to the beach

2009 school year start

Psalm 127:3-5

³ Children are a heritage from the Lord,
    offspring a reward from him.
⁴ Like arrows in the hands of a warrior
    are children born in one’s youth.
⁵ Blessed is the man
    whose quiver is full of them.
They will not be put to shame
    when they contend with their opponents in court.

One Coin. Two Sides.

Raising Kids. It's a thrill ride for sure. Yeah, I love them. Yeah, I'd do it again, but wow, some days it's a struggle. Because just like me, they are constantly warring inside of themselves between their good and bad natures. Everyone is doing it on a daily. It's why sometimes you do the right thing and sometimes you don't. Your kids are no different. They aren't perfect. They are as messed up as you are, Sunshine.

It's because we are all one coin with two sides. The key in making the right choices and learning to make right choices as an adult is reaching some kind of balance within safe parameters. And it takes real-world practice. You can't view that rebellious side as "all bad". Sometimes it's the thing that makes you who and what you are--powerful. You have to take off the bubble wrap sometimes and let 'em just roll down the hill without a helmet.

No, I love you more.

It's like this--I've said this before, but I love that my kids will all post ugly/stupid/ridiculous photos of themselves purposefully. If you tell them to pose or aim a camera at them in any capacity, they make what they call the Ugly Stepsister Pose, revealing the most unattractive sides of themselves on purpose. I like it because it's self-deprecating. And funny. And honest. And silly. And truthful in a most basic way. They can't all be supermodel, airbrushed, filtered photos. Sometimes you've just got to be the real you and hope it works out. I hope they always reveal their true selves in life. It's a self-confidence level that says, "Don't you worry, Sugar, I'll make fun of my own self, thank you."

Don't be afraid to lead by example.

I'm singling out Big E for this particular illustration of truth. (Don't worry, I'll get to the others during the summer.) This twin is smart. Savvy. Hilarious. Loud. Crazy. She wants a tattoo and a piercing and to dye her hair purple like yesterday. (Her minister father is thrilled.)  This same kid will share her faith in God with a stranger in two seconds flat with no hesitation or shame or fear (before the opportunity even occurred to you) making her simultaneously rebellious and an outrageously committed Christ-follower in the same breath. In fact, I submit to you that the fact she wants a tattoo and will share her faith on the subway in New York with a skinhead comes from the same exact place in her spirit. The outrageous, spirited part of her shares the same root as the daring, bold, fearless part of her.

Same dress without the squirrel head. 

She's loud. Like earsplitting loud. Which makes her the most fun at games and parties. You can hear her laughing from one side of the theater to the other without a shred of self consciousness. She commands attention and leadership simply by overwhelming the competition into submission by the power of her voice. Sometimes she's so loud it's scary and uncomfortable and rude. Because if she's cutting you to the quick, everyone can hear her do that too.

Set the trend, don't follow it.

She's also judgmental and angry and vengeful. She's a mean girl waiting for an innocent bystander to roll by so she can crush them into dust beneath her haughty, cruel feet. She has an ugly stepsister who sometimes possesses her body. And then she turns into Cinderella on a dime and donates a week of her time to live with a family who cares for six grown autistic kids, loving them, feeding them, taking time to learn them individually on a personal level, talking to them, playing with them, and praying for them daily. (She wasn't paid for that time, she volunteered and even gave up fun teen stuff to go work.) She's in the living room right now looking for opportunities in her calendar to go back and work with this special family while watching the Kardashian sisters on television and talking about how stupid and ugly someone is on Instagram. Same body. Same person. Same breath. Same coin.

Wondertwin Mojo on the Vball Court. Conquer your fears.

She's learning sign language because she's convinced that she's going to work with deaf people in some capacity even though we don't know a single deaf person. She threatens to kill her brother violently daily, (and I halfway think she means it). She will not speak to you anymore if you wear camouflage in public as a fashion statement, because you're an idiot. She quit cheer because, "I'm not that person anymore" with no further explanation.

Because the best photos are the goofy ones

We went to a birthday party at the nursing home. E sat with elderly people of no relation to us who were at their own table and asked them all about their lives for an hour. Strangers when they began, friends when she left. When the nursing home residents disbanded, they all hugged her neck and said they can't wait to see her again. She came to me and said, "We have to get Mrs. A, Mrs. B, and Mrs. C gifts when we come back to see Paw next month. I know their room numbers, and it's important because they have so few visitors." Then she told her twin to move her lard butt out of the way because it's her turn to sit in the middle.

Not afraid to airband. All the cool kids are doing it. And even if they aren't; we are doing it.

It's a mystery how this woman child can be so full of good and evil in the same body. She has to make a concentrated effort to manifest the good side of her and tamp down the evil side--the judgmental ugly side. It's my job as parent to help guide her toward that good nature. But don't we all have to make a conscious choice daily do this?

Aim and there it is

Ever seen these hyper-religious or publicly "perfect" families and think to yourself, "One day those kids are going to have a little taste of freedom and suddenly rebel and go nuts because they haven't had any small opportunities to be out there." I think it might be truth.

Being "good" outwardly is nothing but putting on a show, an outward show that isn't genuine. You have to be transparent, truthful about yourself in a way that can be scary, because we tend to be paralyzed by what people might think. (There's only one opinion we need to be concerned with and it's not your neighbor's.) We need to be focused on changing the real you into something malleable. Clay that God can change and mold--not rigid and set in stone.

Like they tell you in dieting it has to be a lifestyle change not a path of denial. The woman who plans on never eating another doughnut is destined to fail, because it's denial not change. And we aren't built for constraint--we were built for freedom. 

It's why I'll let E dye that hair (and tolerate that piercing and tattoo eventually when she's old enough), because I know that she'll also use that mojo to be a powerful weapon in the hand of the Lord, wielding a sword of salvation that people without purple hair are too scared to pick up in the first place. It's because we all have to remember that our gifts and talents can manifest as evil or good depending upon how we choose to use them. Make sure that some of your life is a thrill ride and take off the bubble wrap on occasion. It's more fun that way.

What Romantic Really Means

I’m going to tell you a little story about my marriage proposal. Steve and I were in our early 20’s, and he used to come over to my Mother’s house where I lived after I graduated from the University of Alabama. She needed a roommate after her divorce, and I desperately needed an accountability partner for my newly minted salvation. Once we started dating, Steve and I would go out once a week, but during the week we couldn’t stand to be apart, so we would meet at my mom’s house after work at least three nights a week. He brought a change of clothes and usually some fantastic dessert he’d bought or made, and I’d put my hair up in a ponytail and change into comfy clothes. Then we would cook dinner with my mother, the three of us visiting and eating dinner, telling stories about our days and coworkers and jobs.

The three of us would watch our two favorite shows together before he left every night at 10:30 to go to his house. I loved Star Trek: the Next Generation (shut up, you already knew I was She-Queen of the Geeky Librarians). Steve’s favorite was Andy Griffith. So, he sat through mine, and I sat through his until we became fans one of another's programs.

One night, the Star Trek theme faded out and the Andy Griffith whistle began. I had my feet curled up under me, a pillow in my lap, face washed clean of makeup, wearing a sweatshirt four times too big for me. My mother had just said good night and gone upstairs to give us a few moments alone before it was time for him to say goodnight and leave. He leaned over and put his forehead against mine and said, “You know, I want to do this exact thing with you for the rest of our lives.” I put his face in my hands and whispered, “Okay then.” He didn’t get on one knee. There were no flowers. There was no grand gesture. And it counts as probably the single most romantic moment of my life.

He got the ring a week later. He went to my father’s office and faced the Master Bear full on in the mouth of his cave without backing down and asked for my hand in marriage. Six months later, I walked down the aisle.

Just like every other couple alive, we have been hanging on to this roller coaster for dear life. Sometimes squealing with glee, sometimes leaning heavily into each other, sometimes screaming in total terror, sometimes laughing until snorting, but always, always buckled and strapped in side-by-side on the ride.

I think these little prom-posal things are sweet and romantic gestures, but I’m going to tell you what. You need to find a man who looks at you in your ponytail and sweats after cooking and eating dinner as a threesome with your mother and says, “You. I take you. Exactly like this. And I want my whole life to look like this. You and me on a sofa in comfy clothes watching Bad TV.”

Because, Sister, that is what you really want and don’t know it. 

Let me tell you the most romantic things I can think of when it comes to Steve Johnson. 

Factoid: I don’t think I can actually prepare myself a cup of coffee, because I haven’t made one for myself in years. Like better than a decade—I don’t know how I take it since I don’t make it. I also haven’t performed an oil change on a car and have no idea when they are due. The car simply returns to the parking lot where I work with a new sticker. Like magic. I also haven’t warmed up my car one time. Ever. It’s always cranked with coffee in the holder when I get in it. With the seat warmer on or the sunroof open depending on the season and weather. I have never once looked at the TV or on the phone for the weather, because he tells me when I wake up so I’ll dress warmly enough. I don’t clean up dog trash in the yard, take out garbage, or do any other nasty kinds of business at my house, because my husband won’t let me.

My prayer for my daughters is simple: that you find a Godly man who understands the difference in romantic gestures and in being romantic by meeting your partner's needs before your own. And that you are the kind of woman who seeks that kind of man.

The World is Too Much With Us

Sometimes the world is absolutely too much with us, William. The English teacher in me demands that you read it twice slowly. Then you can see if you agree or not.

The World Is Too Much With Us
By William Wordsworth

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

7 Things I Learned at Miss Issippi's

The Fam, plus Cousin Emily

By now, everyone knows the story of how when The Little Flower was very young she thought that The Husband's cousin Sandra was actually named Miss Issippi because we'd said so many times that we were going to Mississippi that she misunderstood. So, Sandra and James have ever since been Miss Issippi and Mr. Issippi. We drove the four shorties over to Miss Issippi's house for a visit.

Now, here are the interesting factoids:

Waiting on the circus to begin!

1) The Ississippi's are The Husband's relatives, but I am as close to them as he is, proving that birth is only part of the family equation. Time and purpose make up the other parts. The friendship between Sandra and me is every bit as strong as the bond of blood between Sandra and Steve.

Thou shalt not covet

Truth:  You don't have to be related to people for them to be your family. You just have to love them and be loved by them in return. Be quick to love and invite people into your personal space. They might just need family too. 

Holding all of her food so no one steals is.

Carter and Mr. Issippi (or Uncle James)

2) The Mississippi State Fair might have the best food in the whole world. When we were drawing "anticipation" art, the Little Flower drew the food first and the rides second. Chicken on a stick from Penn's (which is actually fried chicken/fried pickles/fried onion slices on a stick), rib-eye sandwiches from the Cattleman's Association, roasted corn on the cob, taffy from Malone's, Bop's snow cones, fried Snicker's, chocolate dipped strawberries, funnel cake, fresh lemonade, kettle corn, frozen, chocolate-dipped banana, and the list goes on.


We buy one item and share among the six of us, and then buy another when we are ready. Or not. Or we try something new around the corner. This way the kids all get to try something different and new and rate it, discuss it, make pronouncements "this is the best EVER" or "that sign totally lied--this stinks," share it "here, you can have the last piece," and just have a common experience.   

Truth: Sharing things (music, food, media, stories) bonds us to one another--common experiences are powerful and knit us together in one more layer.  It's the difference in knowing about someone and knowing someone. I don't want my children to just know about me. I want them to know me.

3.) Building traditions. That photo on the right there ---------->>>>>>
Well, the one on top was four years ago. The one on bottom was this year. Same girls, same pose. They have developed friendships in Mississippi with their cousin and her friends. How cool is that?

Truth: The Love of Christ allows us to have fellowship in so many places if we will open ourselves up to it! Look for things you have in common before the things that separate you and your friendship base will expand right before your eyes.

4) When we go to Miss Issippi's house, I get Uninterrupted Talking Time. Sandra and I sit in the living room and visit. We go to her brother's house and visit. We see her parents and visit. We wander through the fair grounds and watch the kids ride and talk about our churches, husbands, homes, work, friends. We move one level deeper at every sit down as we drift through the park, following (pretending not to follow) a respectable distance behind our teenagers.

Truth: They can pretend they don't want us following, but they sure do check in a lot for kids trying to avoid us. Your kids want to know that you care--if you don't check up on them, they believe you don't give a rip. Better to over care than to under care. They also want to sit on me the entire time I am visiting. Literally one gets off my lap, and the next one gets on. It's really quite amazing. They want attention in the down time too.

5) The best part about birthing your kids one right after another in quick succession is that they are all around the same age. The worst part: they are all around the same age.

A single child event--photos with a monkey

So, we sent the older ones off on their own with friends in the fair, and we spent lots of quality time alone with The Little Flower who got to ride things on her own, pet a monkey, actually play the huckster games (there isn't enough money for all of them to do so), and eat special treats by herself that she didn't have to share.

Sometimes it's hard in Johnsonville being the last. You have to sit through endless games of older siblings, go places where you don't have anything to do, and be patient more than you should have to be.

So, it was good that she got her own cotton candy, and we watched the fair circus together, and she got to ride whatever she wanted several times in a row if she liked.


Truth: There is something to be said for being a member in a large family versus being the only child. I have a feeling that The Little Flower can't wait for the Only Child Left in the Nest thing to come her way. But for now, riding and eating alone are rare treats. Remember to enjoy each of your children individually not just as a whole unit.

6) The Husband has developed some motion sickness as he has aged. That makes him Father of the Year for riding all the spinning rides with Lilly. :-)  Seriously, be sure you marry a man who puts the kids first in all things, because he will meet your needs as a result.  

what to do next?

Truth: Sometimes you have to be willing to vomit if you're going to raise kids in an active, involved way. And roll yards. And drive the get-away-car. And host sleepovers featuring 25 kids. And take the church bus to pick everyone up from school. And go to rock concerts. And wait in the rain for video game releases. And see movies that you think are stupid.  And drive 120 miles each way for ball games. And bring snacks. And bug spray. And an umbrella for the sitting-in-the-rain games. It's inconvenient and difficult, but do it anyway.

And this ride didn't cost anything.

7) Sometimes it is the little things that are the most fun. Like a tree swing. And visiting relatives. And being still for a few days without any real responsibility.

Truth: Everyone needs down time--time to just be without being perfect. Time to laugh and play and be completely free to just be. Especially your kids. Consider being unscheduled and off the grid for a few days to recharge. 

Spinning until sick

Other bonuses:

Sleeping with your spouse on a double bed again is an adventure and mandates snuggling.

Not having to cook or plan meals. (Praise Jesus, Hallelujah!)


Being able to eat what we want, not what's in the fridge. (Can I get an 'Amen'?)

Sad faces going home.

Having friends from church who love us enough to send extra money 'just because'. (We would have skipped the monkey photo without that extra funding for sure.)

Being healthy enough to roll ten hours at the fair. (Well, with some Ibuprofen.)

Having kids who said, "yes, ma'am" when it was finally time to go. (Okay, so they sighed deeply before saying it, but still.)

Tree swing. (Does that really need an explanation?)

It's an Artie Party. (Sorry, it's a Johnson Thing.)