Our Boy: The Kindergartener

I've dreaded the day for five short years.  Or maybe even longer, seeing as I taught school and watched other parents go through this motion.  But alas our time had come and our oldest started school.

If you ask anyone who knows me well, they would likely tell you that I was full of emotion in the weeks leading up to kindergarten.  It is a big deal.  In a small sort of life altering way, at least.

And though I was excited for our boy who was giddy about the transition, I needed some time to fall into the role of mom and express my thoughts through tears.

But the day did come. And it went.

After I dropped Noah off I found myself feeling overwhelmed with peace and joy just knowing that "this is right."  The change of pace and challenge seemed so fitting- for all of us.  And Noah loved it!

Now, one week and a few days into school and this is our established routine.  We've had fun having lunch with him in the cafeteria, riding bikes to school, talking about the days adventures, and receiving phone calls stating how great he is.  All in all, kindergarten is not so bad.  And by not so bad, I mean it's really great!  Today was the first day he woke up saying that he really didn't want to go to school again.  Eight days in... that's good, right?  And I'll even admit that being somewhere at 8am is not so bad, either.  Jesus has definitely been gracious to this aching heart.  He knows, too, what it is like to let a son go.

It's a joy to watch my children grow and change and mature and follow the course of development.  And now that we've gone over the tiny hump we call school, I feel confident that we can face what is to come!

8.20

8.20.81: Some time before I was even an embryo, a not-so-tiny baby boy was born to two young parents.  He grew up in a lovely home with the same hopes most all boys have.  He was rough and tough and happy and easy-going.  He ventured through school and made memories on the playground.  He was a  fun-spirited child who loved being outdoors. He was giving by nature, rarely got upset, and was a peacemaker among family and friends.  He had a calic, too. He was popular and athletic and grew into a handsome young lad.

Or so I'm told.

I didn't know this little boy until much later, but oh, how he changed my life.  He came into my tiny world and made it feel larger than ever before.  And at the time I met him, I could only dream of the lucky girl who would one day be his wife.  I never dreamt that God had something so grand for me, that I would be that girl.

8.20.11: A not-so-young man enters the world of 30.  He lives in a happy home with two parents.  Only this time... he is the parent.  The parent of three wee lads.  He has dreams that are bigger than most.  He dreams of ministering to the broken and seeing people changed by grace.  He is rough and tough and happy and easy-going.  He ventures through work making memories in staff meetings.  He is fun-spirited and loves to be outdoors.  He is giving by nature, rarely gets upset, and is a peacemaker among family and friends. He still has a calic, too.  He is not only liked by all, but loved by many and athletic and a handsome middle-aged lad.

Or so I say.

And he is so much more.  He is the man who calls righteousness up in me.  He is the one who leads our family in prayer and the one who makes us laugh.  He is the guy who will talk to me for hours upon end and still listen to me as though I am fascinating.  He makes me feel beautiful and loved and safe and happy.  He is boldness tempered with grace.

He is my husband and I couldn't be more proud to say that I am in love with Brad Ingram, age 30.

Happy late birthday to my guy.  I adore you!

forever.

The Filter

I'm really thankful right now for something the Lord began to show me some time ago.  And that's just the way of the Lord.  He's tender to our hearts even before we know we need his tenderness.  He often teaches me things or prepares me in ways I couldn't conjure to know I need preparing.  

The comfort I'm finding right now is in knowing that I am not my childrens filter. 

I want desperately to guard their ears.  Their minds.  Their eyes.  Their bodies.  

If it were up to me, they would not be apart of anything that wasn't true or noble or right or pure or lovely or excellent or praiseworthy or... well, you get it.  I would shelter them in a bubble.  

But I can't.  

And I don't.  

It's impossible.

And even if I tried, I would fail. 

Because of that, I find comfort in knowing that I don't have to be the filter through which everything is censored when it comes to my children.  I can trust the Lord for that.  He is the one who created their eyes, minds, bodies, ears and all of those sweet little things that I want to protect.  And heaven knows that he wants them guarded.  

So as I release my eldest into the big, open sea that is kindergarten, I find myself falling onto the soft sand that is Jesus.  I trust the Lord with Noah.  After all, He made him. And I can trust that though friends may not prove to be friends, and inappropriate phrases will be said, and other children won't treat their siblings with the love that we expect in our home, and the voice of the world will become even louder around Noah... that the Lord can filter what he hears, feels, understands, and sees.  He is a better filter than I could ever be, even on my most protective days. 

My prayers have turned to sound like this, "Lord, guard my children's eyes and minds and bodies and hearts and emotions.  Don't let them hear what is being said.  Let them hear you.  Keep their eyes from noticing things aside from your splendor...."

And as we do walk this road, we will have even more chances to talk with our children about our need for a Savior.  Because if there is only one thing that my children should see, it isn't that they are designed for perfection or goodness... they are designed to need a Rescuer.  A Savior.  And they are learning that our Savior isn't an idea or a theory.  He is an intimate knitter.  And a great filter!

A Tiny Nutshell

I don't really even know where to begin with over two months since my last entry.  Brad encouraged me to blog a few days ago and until he mentioned it, I forgot all about this little site.  Funny enough though, as soon as he said it I realized how much I've missed writing these simple entries.  I've said it once, but I'll say it again... this is a sweet, sweet outlet for my mind.

The beginning of April I started working part time.  Without going into too much detail, the Lord lovingly crafted a job perfectly sized for me.  I am working two days a week at a Christian, infant adoption agency.  It's a lovely schedule for my family, as my children all attend MDO while I work.  It is pure ministry and a sweet, sweet place to spend several hours of my week. I've already been blessed beyond measure by the relationships that I have formed there.  Each Tuesday and Thursday I look forward to going!  Plus I surprisingly enjoy waking up early, showering before lunch and wearing pretty clothes two days a week.  Not to mention, I've been able to dust off a few pairs of heels that I've missed slipping my feet into.  I'm grateful.

Motherhood is more full time than ever before.  And it has been full time from the beginning.  With a smart five year old who will be starting kindergarten in the fall, a quickly maturing middle beauty who is my side-kick from waking till sleeping, and an eighteen month old that keeps me on my toes and never settle for less than what she wants at the moment, life is blissful.  And when I say blissful, I don't mean it in the relaxed sense of the word.  But I do mean it in the most thankful sense of the word.  Jesus continues to prune and pluck my heart and selfishness on a daily basis.  I'm a purely simple lovely mess. And more grateful for grace than ever.

Our summer has been filled with late afternoons at the pool, mornings on the trampoline, lunches in the kitchen with Daddy, and late nights around the chiminea with my guy.

And that my friends is two months and three days in the Ingram household in a nutshell.  A very, very condensed nutshell.

Five Stars for a Five Year Old

We celebrated Noah over the weekend.  He turned FIVE Saturday, which was much anticipated.  Something about becoming a five-year-old has been a big milestone for us all.  He was SO excited leading up to his birthday and is still relishing in his new year of life.  With each thing we do, he says, "that was my first time to ___ as a five year old.  And it was really cool!"  --go to church, go to pre-school, ride his bike, etc--  

I know you other mothers understand this... it is so fun to live out exciting milestones with your children.  Seeing his heart alive brings added life to mine. 

I know you think there aren't many more things I could say about my sweet son that I haven't already said at some point on this blog, but you are oh-so-wrong! :)  I could write a post about each of my children for the rest of my life and never run out of things to say.  They are that unique and that special to me.  They intrigue me to the core.  

When I sat down to write a post celebrating my Noah in words, one strong thing came to mind:

his love for work!

  

I have watched this love blossom in Noah's life over the past year. 

He is a hard worker and he loves to be busy with purpose.  

He gives his full attention to detail and precision.  He often spends entire days (literally) working.  He thrives in spending hours upon hours digging, planting and grooming our yard with his dad or Pop.  

And I've notices that this all is most true when he is working with his hands and he is outside.  

I've marveled time and again how the Lord really does create man to work and provide because I've seen this come to life in Noah.  

It isn't a strain for Noah, he thrives on it.  

 Of course, he enjoys his breaks and the cool snacks he works so hard for. Ha. 

But I've also been amazed by his initiative to work.  He shovels, rakes, takes out trash, sets the table, moves rocks, all on his own.  He sees a need and attempts to take care of it without so much as a word from anyone.  

I snuck this picture recently just to keep for myself for years to come, but decided to post it here so that I could be blessed each time I see this post.  Most mornings, Noah rises early with his Daddy to have coffee and study scripture.  I can't tell you what it does to my heart and my love for the Lord to walk into our dining room and see this.  The Lord is giving Noah a hunger for the Word.  This process is causing new parts in me to rise up in awe of the power of the Holy Spirit.  That, and it makes me love these TWO boys in even deeper ways.  What a sweet father my children have.

I thought I would throw this picture in for good measure.  This was my boy's recent first trip to the dentist.  He was so nervous and so brave.  Everything inside of him wanted to cry and fall in my arms, I saw it written all over his face.  But he didn't.  And I admire him for that.  I'm watching my little boy grow into a big boy on a daily basis.  

I find myself daily amazed at the maturity taking place before my very eyes.

This boy of ours, he is such a joy!

I'm blessed to be his mother.

Happy 5th Birthday, Noah Hudson!

Freeze Dance

As the kids and I danced a jig during one of our favorite shows, we paused with every mention of the word freeze.  As we moved and laughed, I took a mental snap shot.  You know the moments; full of laughter and playing and then the thought occurs that this instance cannot be repeated.  That particular moment... once in a lifetime.  The only condolence is to take a mental snapshot and store it in the file of Things to Recall Often. 

As I twirl and dip and stagger in my life's dance, I can't forget to freeze.


I'll do it in order to take a mental snapshot. And remember.


If I could, I would freeze the days when my laundry basket is filled with princess dresses, footed pajamas, and baseball socks.  And the days when a blanket solves the world's troubles.

I would freeze the days when more tears are shed over the mention of unwanted nap times and bedtimes than over broken hearts, failed reports or hurt feelings. Or the days when everyone in our family could pile comfortably into one bed.

I would freeze the day that Kayt decided that if she couldn't marry Daddy, she would marry Bubba.
And the days when I brushed tangles out of matted, dark hair only to brush new tangles out minutes later.

I would freeze the days when riding a bike on two wheels was deserving of a family celebration, when the sidewalk was covered with chalk, and the yard colored by Play-Do. And the ones when my throat felt sore from all the books read aloud.

I would freeze the days when sippie cups filled the top drawer of my dishwasher and colorful spoons my silverware slots.  And the days when talk of 'school adventures' was merely talk, not a reality.

I would freeze the days when dirty feet clouded the bath water as all three of my lil' loves easily fit into one tub.  And especially the days when the sight of my face made little legs run to my arms.


If I could pause the music, just for awhile, I would include a day just like today.  Ordinary, simple and special.  I would freeze the giggles that are common sounds, the footsteps that still pitter-patter, and the messes that are strewn with adventure and imagination.

But as we danced that fun day, I realized that the song built with each new note.  The frozen poses became funnier and the excitement grew.  The final freeze was better than the first.

And for that reason, I'll let that time go by knowing that each day and month and year will build upon the last.  The memories will grow and the mental snapshots will accumulate.


But while we dance our lives away, I'll continue to take moments to freeze.

Because if we are going to dance, we might as well Freeze Dance!

Kayt Captured

I was browsing through pictures and these made me laugh. 

I took them on my phone during our early morning flight to Disney World, per Kayt's request.  

She would say, "Take my picture!"

Then, "Let me see." 

Finally... lots of giggles.

Kayt is such a silly girl.  She doesn't take anything too seriously, she is as easy going as they come.  

I laughed that her eyes are closed in each picture and at the fun we had that morning while all of the other passengers lulled in a state of sleepiness.

My early-riser was ready for the fun to begin. 

And so she initiated it before the sun came up.

I know that as she gets older, everyone will want to be Kayt's friend.  She will be so much fun to be around... she already is! 

If Not You, Then Who?

As a mother, as a wife, as a friend, as a daughter, as an attender, as a leader, as a member, as a follower...

I have a calling.

I pray for my husband and children in ongoing, raw, needy ways.  I ask the Lord for the small details of their life to be worked out.  I ask the Lord for the big, obstacles to fade in light of him.  I ask for clarity. I ask the Lord for friendships and relationships that will build them up.  I ask for their healing.  I ask for their hearts and eyes to be protected.  I ask for Jesus to speak in radical ways during their days.  I ask for their hearts to be drawn to him.  I ask for their rest to be good.  I ask that their dreams would be from Him.  I ask for their laughter to be plentiful.  I ask for future events.  I ask for everything.

I ask, because if not me, then who?

That's why I petition.

I pray for my husband as a pastor, a shepherd, an employee.  I ask that the Lord would work through him.  If not me asking, then who?

Who else has my husband and children on their hearts as often as me?

This life is tough and this world is mean.  Satan is prowling.  Our battles are NOT against flesh and blood.  They are bigger. They are spiritual.  Just read Ephesians 6.  If our battle is in the spiritual realm, than our defense must be, as well.  How do we battle in the spiritual?  We pray. We wage war.  We speak truth.  We claim scripture.  We trust Jesus.

Knowing this, I want life for my family.  I want Jesus to be powerful in them.  I want unity among us.  I want to make an impact in the lives of people, everyone we encounter.  People matter to Jesus.  I pray for them.  I ask for hearts of stone to be replaced with new hearts.  I ask for days of bitterness to be redeemed with joy.  I ask for marriages to be restored. I ask for healing, knowing that it is a mere glimpse of the power that we will one day experience in heaven.

But I pray most for my family.
Brad
Noah
Kayt
Emery

If I don't fight for them in the spiritual, then who will?
It's my calling as a wife and mother.  It's my joy as a lover of Jesus.
I pray short prayers.  I speak one word prayers.  I pray lengthy prayers coupled with tears.  I pray repetitive prayers.

It's not the format that matters,  it's the heart of one that knows their calling, understands that our struggles and battles are real, and realizes that victory lies in Jesus.  My prayers may not be answered as I would choose, but I never want it to be for a lack of asking.  And through my prayers, my heart is drawn to the Lord's faithfulness and the fact that he hears me.  "But as for me, the NEARNESS of God is MY GOOD." 

Who prays for your husband everyday?
Who prays for you everyday?
Who prays for your children everyday?
Your mother? Your father?
Your grandparents? Your friends?
Your church? Your leaders?  Your students?

If not you, then who?

My Only Son

Spring is approaching and that means one thing in our house... baseball.

You see friends, I am a woman of many trades.  Laundry connoisseur, master pb&j chef, speedy bed maker, baby doll barber, house keeper, sock matching enthusiast, AND pitcher.

Not to brag on myself, but I am a force to be reckoned with on the pitching mound.  And the neighbors know that I mean business when I take my position wearing my pajama pants and house shoes.

Move over, Cliff Lee.

This morning, Noah and I were playing baseball while Emery napped and Kayt tended to her babies in the fort.  All was good until a threw a wild pitch and accidentally hit Noah square in the shoulder.  If I could have captured his face in a picture I would have something worth money.   He was completely dumbfounded and crushed and confused all at the same time.

In the most sincere, sympathetic voice he said, "What in the world are you thinking, Mom? You just hit me with the ball.  Have you forgotten that I'm your only son?  It's fine and I forgive you, but think about that next time.  Okay?"

I didn't really know how to respond.

So I laughed.
Like any good mother would do.

And then apologized.

So, to my only son: forgive this wild woman.

And to Cliff Lee: don't go anywhere.  You stay on the pitching mound and I'll stay home in my pjs.

Baby Girl Isn't Really a Baby Anymore:

My lovely Emery is fourteen months old.  She loves being chased through the house.  Her favorite way to eat is on-the-go;  a cracker in one hand and her blanket in the other and the girl thinks all is right in the world.  She is smart as can be, loves to play peek-a-boo and has a cheesy grin that only her daddy can pull out of her.  She has the sweetest little hands and puts her face into them when she wants to show that things are not happening according to her plan.  Her favorite time of day is when she hears the garage door raise. She knows it is followed by Brad walking through the door and  she greets him with the most intense excitement.  She loves to be rolled on the floor and tickled by her siblings.  She is the most adventurous and care free of our children.  She delights in being outside and loves no place more than her bed.  She cherishes each suck on her paci and still takes a bottle of milk at bedtime (I know, I know).  She won't touch green beans, but loves pizza, eggs, blueberries, and oranges.  She eats with a spoon like a master.  She is funny and witty.  Brad and I agree that she may be the family comedian.  She has a captivating demeanor, a sweet temperament and enough charm to win a war.  She is determined and loving.  She is reckless beyond measure and on any given day she had a slew of bruises to prove it.  She is loud, yet sneaky.  She loves water and dirt; she plays with baby dolls and matchbox cars.  She thinks the kitchen cabinet contents were placed there for her enjoyment and can often be found rummaging through the pantry.  She is the link our family never knew it was missing.  She cherishes her Daddy's attention, loves making her Bubba laugh, watches every move her Sissy makes and spends much of her day in the arms of her Momma.  Emmy girl, you make my heart twirl!