Sand in sandwiches

Madigan's comments to Paugie regarding Kelty's (less-than heart shmelting) post-nap attitude: "He's cute alright, but he sure knows how to put the sand in sandwiches." You called it, Buddy. I don't know how you do it, but you always do.

"Mama, Paugie had to help hold my Cuddle Tiger while I milked him. Cuddle Tiger sometimes doesn't like the interaction because he's an introvert." Introverts are not meant for milking, apparently. Paugie - ever the faithful assistant - should perhaps be more appropriately dubbed "Watson".

As I put Paugie to bed last night, he wanted only to sit and talk sweet somethings, and though his ridiculously long eyelashes were fluttering in fatigue, he kept the conversation moving, asking me every question he could conjure. We talked about his favorite Bible stories (in some great detail) and then about the importance of second morning mugs at the start of each day (not unlike second breakfast in importance and worth).

Kelty has had a "good decision" week, on the whole, and his Mama is very proud of him. He is at such an amazing age of being able to reason and understand reasoning, even though he does not himself speak a great deal yet. Often, as he runs about each day with his usual gusto and delight, he encounters obstacles (usually Mama's request to do something contrary to his natural inclination on a matter) and he most often stops, hesitates (possibly a wee bit longer than he ought) and then decides to do the right thing. Such a marvelous thing to see. When I tell him, "Kelty, that was a very good decision," he flashes me that smile and his face reflects a great deal of satisfaction. When he makes a "bad decision", often the disappointment reflected in my voice (or maybe the words themselves) will make him hesitate in his choice, even if he ultimately chooses wrongly. He's a tiny human and I marvel.

As I sat reading to the boys yesterday, Jevy stealthily maneuvered from a subtle snuggle at my feet to a full blown smother as he placed his less-than-tiny frame across me. Then, later, as I sat folding clothes, he climbed onto the couch behind me with his legs resting on my back. Progressively, he started to push me with his legs, inching me slowly forward until I plopped onto the floor. He laughed out loud and was clearly pleased that he had distracted my attention from the task at hand and onto himself in all his wonder. He's overt, in his own way.

My horse and (one of) her boy(s). 

20 years ago, I couldn't have imagined this... she was a baby and he wasn't born yet. :-)

The joy! 

My wild (and incredible) other horse.

Travel pose - on the way to feed the horse every day.

His drawing of 4 bros swimming in the pool together.

The "list" of tasks to be accomplished that day. 

The fowl part of our life.

One of 264 selfies he took this week. :-) 

KC McCool - even when he's sleeping.

Completely enthralled.

This week, we built a house on the prairie - probably not as well constructed as Pa Ingalls house, but we were limited in the materials that were at our disposal. We cooked prairie pheasants over an open fire (outside the house, as our chimney was not yet constructed). We were surrounded by wolves. We met several Indians (Native Americans).

Here's the primary builder.

The house. Obviously.

Fishing for lake trout. They were plentiful and we also caught a shark. In the lake. :-)

Homeschooling tip of the day:  In teaching arithmetic to boys, we have found multiplying burps is an effective and entertaining (albeit unmannerly and disgusting) method. 

this doesn't make sense!

Warning: Not for the delicate. Motherhood is gross. 

Jevy started throwing up this afternoon. And then he threw up again, and again, and again. I rinsed off the sheets in the sink, as, in the moment, I could think of no where else to do so. 
I, then, cleverly ran the disposal and sanitized the sink.
I, then, noticed the pipes were plugged. 
I put Jevy back into bed (where he proceeded to vomit again). 
(Mind you, George is out of town because there's never a shortage of adventures whilst single parenting - it's when all the fun happens!) 

I snaked the pipes. I was now covered in vomit AND sewage. 

These past few weeks, as the crazies piled up, I've kept thinking I reached the end of what I could bear, and I was (unpleasantly) surprised. 
I continued snaking the pipes and it started dripping into my hair. 
Tears. 
I shouted at God, and said "I'm going to consider this an honor! You've got to be preparing me for something or this doesn't make sense! At. All!" I was yelling, but somehow I feel He was not alarmed. 
Jevy threw up again. 
I showered with hope.
Jevy threw up again. 
I didn't shower - I smell like vomit. Get over it. 

Suffering, even in it's minor form (as above), feels out of place and unfair. When we step away from it or look with a glance at the suffering of others around us, we might find ourselves less surprised (thought perhaps still horrified) that suffering exists and plagues us. It's always easier to break it down and try to "understand it" when we're looking from a distance, no matter how much we care, feel empathy, or find our hearts breaking over the suffering of others. It may still seem incredibly unfair, but it doesn't overwhelm us and threaten our fragile psyche. Then, we ourselves face suffering (because life is full of it and not one is spared it's touch, in some way or another) and the very real questions start to be asked and evidence of a world falling so short of what it should be is what we find. As I scraped the goo off my eyelids tonight, I felt so ashamed. I was wallowing (kind of literally, in this case) in my (relatively minor) suffering in that moment and feeling a shortage in my capacity to "handle it". I reticently trust and accept that these small moments of absurdity are useful and are giving strength, perspective, compassion and humility. 

Let there be pigs

These summer days are filled - completely - with preparations for our upcoming move (to where, you ask? When we know, we'll be sure to tell you. The current runners up are: North Carolina, Ohio or Florida.) We've cleaned our house a couple hundred times and then re-cleaned it for good measure. We've patched every hole, replaced each tiny piece of trim, painted (and painted some more), weeded the flower beds, cut the grass (and re-weeded and re-cut the grass), and shuffled the boys outdoors multiple times to eliminate the active sabotage of any given cleaning exercise Mommy is entertaining herself with. 

Daddy and Mommy got a mini-vacation to Florida to scope out the possibilities and to get eaten by mammoth mosquitoes. Daddy was awfully cute smacking his own face, though. Thank you Ankie Tae for holding down the fort and thank you McGary boys for watching over Ankie Tae. You're a dependable bunch! 

The hot, humid days have hit with a force, but we are prepared! 

And got our handsome faces on! 

And our fish faces, too. 

And watch out world because Kelty is the selfie king, and you might be included if you're so lucky.

The baby birds are hatching (in our flower pot)! 

My phone keeps getting stolen only for me to discover little nuggets like these later on.

KC McCool is just... you know, bein' himself. Only the really cool can create new fashion trends - like upside down sunglasses.

Pool time is definitely afoot. And what band of bros doesn't relish a pink pool?

Paugie is still whimsical... in everything he does. Including spraying his brothers with the hose.

Jevy laughs himself silly in the hammock at his brother's shenanigans in the pool.

And charm bucket is generously distributing his supply on all of us - as usual. 

Today, after dropping Daddy off at the airport, Madigan and Paugie were praying for Daddy's safety and that we would be able to get a farm in our next adventure in life. Paugie added that he would really like to have Fancy and Devany at our farm. Madigan concluded the prayer with: "And... let there be pigs." So, if you see pigs in our future, you know who to blame. 

15 seconds

And he's out. 

Mama H and her copper-colored filly

Just celebrated two big birthdays for two of the girls in this household! 

Fancy That

20 years next to her. She totally changed my life.

Every minute she's in my life is one I treasure.

Devany Fair

5 years loving her. 

She is wild and wonderfully predictable. 

My copper-colored filly is a gem. 

Mesmerized

You sleep and I am utterly mesmerized. 

I want for you all that life in this broken world does not promise.

Your heart is so full of hope and abundant joy. 

You never hesitate to question that which you do not approve. 

If I could pave the road for you, remove the speed bumps, 

equip you to foresee every danger before you're upon it, 

guard you from every harm, I would. 

If I could open every good thing to you, give you joy everlasting,

make the days for you be sunshine, and fill your life with love, only, I would.

Always run {the race set before you} and when you are too tired to run, 

keep moving forward, even if you must resort to a crawl. 

Rely on those He gives to you {including your brothers}.

You are my tiny human and I'm completely in love with you.

As darkness descends

the boy club is racing around the porch with dump trucks in hand. Jevy is practicing a gentle canter, deciphering whether the canter or the trot is more efficient. Madigan is full steam ahead at a dead gallop. Paugie is consistent with one pace - his own (something between a gentle trot and a walk). Kelty may be the smallest, but he has discovered that keeping to the inner circle on the loop gives him a definitive advantage in keeping pace with the bros. They should be in bed, I know. Something tells me that these gallops in the cool air and the almost darkness are good - deep down. It's on their faces, each one.

As we played in the rain yesterday, I thought to myself that there is a certain wonder in it all - the loud splatter of the puddles, the laughter, the rain drops dripping off eye lashes, the mud covered bodies and energy of the whole process. Water is not always so pleasant or welcome in my days, however, and each of my darlings seems to gravitate toward it's negative use in his own unique way. Madigan is persistently manning the outside hose in the general direction of his brothers as we prepare to leave the house (i.e. when dry clothes would be much appreciated). I have decided to put a recording of myself saying, "Paugie, turn off the water" on auto repeat for the countless hours that he spends in the bathroom washing his hands and everything else in the bathroom. Jevy has taken up permanent residence at the kitchen sink where he submerges everything within reach if there is any dishwater present - hence my cleaning routine has been substantially altered. Kelty is a refrigerator water terror. The fridge water must remain on lock down at all times, or the kitchen and the underhappenings of the fridge sit in a rather daunting puddle lake.

I find these days are filled with so much joy and fulfillment in conjunction with the challenges of human nature colliding with human nature. It is a perfect training ground for us to each learn how to love more relentlessly, to forgive readily, to give even when it's painful, and to try, try again to do better tomorrow. I think life gives us ample opportunity to find the end of ourselves and realize we must take another step forward. Though these small(ish) humans have yet to discover their limitations, they readily display the aspects of themselves which may afford them challenges ahead.

Madigan's impulsive willingness to take command and implement what he perceives is required - a strength to be sure, as long as he doesn't mow down everyone else in the process. He must learn to take into account the others who are placed alongside him, value their feedback, carefully weigh their opinions, help equip them, encourage them (as every great leader would), and rally them for his cause.

Paugie's gentle self relies quite heavily upon others to assist when he encounters tasks he would rather not face - and he readily falls to pieces when assistance is not offered. He must realize that he is incredibly strong, and with the countless hours he has had to deflect the onslaught of the ferocious tiger he lives alongside, he has had and will continue to have much practice in using his strength to bring about much good. That strength combined with his kindness toward and insight into others will make him invaluable to the world of which he is a part.

Jevy's obsession with learning and understanding the nature of how things work, how the world spins around him, why it must be as it is - it sometimes makes him forget to take into account the human hearts around him and their need for him to be present and participating. He must remember to love, first, to share the reflections of his beautiful heart with those around him, even as he solves the problems of the world and makes it better because he's in it.

Kelty is confident and exuberant about waking up in the morning and living out the day ahead, and he relies too heavily upon his own self will, charm and seemingly unstoppable capabilities. He must remember to lean upon those around him (his brothers, for example), to seek their advice, to ask for assistance when he needs it, to remember that they are more important than any plan he might have in creation in his brilliant mind. He, too, can change the world, so he must remember to hold the hands of those who love him fiercely - those he can trust with every fiber.