It is time to fly . . .

Last year my word was "embrace," as I knew many changes would be coming my way in 2015 and I knew I'd need some additional support in welcoming them without hesitation.  Selling a home and buying another (and moving!) was finally on the calendar, as was some big changes at work for both Raleigh and I, along with some relationship issues that I had delayed facing for far too long.  The waiting was over; it was time to take action and move through the "scary".

Since even the thought of the upcoming changes made my stomach turn and my mind come up with a million delay tactics (each one fully justified, of course), I wanted to choose a word to support me in standing strong and walking through each one with grace, dignity, courage, and with as much genuine excitement as I could muster.  I didn't want to fight/resist them all and make things harder for myself (some of the changes were clearly inevitable), and hence "embrace" came to be.

Throughout the year I struggled here and there for sure, yet in the end, found myself heading into 2016 with most of those changes behind me, and in retrospect, see that (even if not at first), I (eventually) embraced each one.  Success!

Still, 2015 was stressful, chaotic, and for the most part, overwhelming!

This year I want more peace, more time to enjoy my family (a much shorter commute should dramatically help on that front!), more love and joy, more ease in the day-to-day living (sounds silly to some, but some days, I want to go back to bed at 10a and start over!).  I want to fly high and truly live the life I have created abundantly, without reservation or self-imposed limitations.

And that where my inspiration/motivation lies for 2016's word:
SOAR.

For me, it means freedom, flight, going higher and farther, and finally, seeing the pieces of my life come together in a beautiful picture that takes my breath away.  It is a new perspective that pulls everything together and reminds me how blessed I am, even in the messier/crazier times (as I know there will be some!) . . .

I am ready, and now it's time to fly!

Home Sweet HOME!

So I've been anxious to write this post, although too afraid to do so until I officially had an address to accompany it.  This morning at about 11a, that piece of the puzzle fell into place and now I feel at liberty to share our excitement with you all--we are officially homeowners once again!

For anyone that's been following us, you've known that our quest to find a home that suits our family did not quite go as we had planned--leaving us cramped in a 2 bedroom apartment as we sold our old home and needed to move out before we were able to locate another one.

It's been hard--and not just on the physical front of being in a place that was too small for us (literally). Emotionally, it seemed like nothing (after the sale of our home went through) was going our way and our hearts were getting very weary.  We looked at more homes than I can count, and even put an offer in on one (that we thought we loved).  When that offer ($21K over asking price with other conditions favorable to the seller) didn't stick, we became even more discouraged in our quest.

The questions got louder: What was God trying to tell us?  Was this (taking the leap to sell our home to find something that fit our growing family better) a bad idea?  Which preferences/criteria (if any) should we let go of?  How long should we keep trying before settling to get us in a home before this baby comes?  How do we stay calm and trust when that "panic" starts to set in? (And folks, it really did start to set in.)

Still, through it all, we kept praying.  And we kept hoping.  And we kept praying.  And we asked for those who care about us to keep praying and hoping (and encouraging) as well.  Thank you to everyone who held the vision of our family in a home that suits us well even when we had difficulty holding onto that vision ourselves!

As we struggled through the transition of closing on our old home--and then having to move out--all without a permanent place to go, the one thing I kept hearing (both internally and from good, honest, faithful friends and family) was "Surrender.  Trust that it will work out and it will.  God will take care of you.  He always has, and He always will.  God is good--ALL THE TIME."

The funny thing is, although I knew/know this to be true, I started to doubt this more and more as the days passed by and no real prospects came to light.  And I finally hit my low on the day I had to hand the keys to our old home over to the new owner.  I drove away from the house in which Raleigh and I had made a home for several years in tears--choking back sobs, really--wondering where (and how) God was leading our family.

I headed south towards a home that was first allowing showings that day, and started talking/praying to God out loud.  I questioned His motives for allowing us to become "homeless," expressed anger in the double-edged sword a hot housing market is for someone wanting to sell AND buy, and lamented that time was running out as we approached the holidays and the birth of our fourth child.  Now what was I to do?  How could He do this to us (and/or allow us to do this to ourselves)?!  Where was the "glory" in this story, and how was any reality we had before us going to bring Him honor?  In my mind, it wasn't looking good and it appeared more and more like we were being set up to remain miserable.

In between my rant/cry, I caught the lyrics of a song playing on the radio.  They said, "So when you're on your knees and answers seem so far away, You're not alone, stop holding on . . .Your world's not falling apart, it's falling into place . . ."

SURRENDER . . . I heard it in my heart again.
LET GO.
TRUST.

"Yeah, right," I thought.  Easier said than done.  Yet even after that quick dismissal, I found myself praying again that somehow, there was truth in the words of the song I'd just heard and that a bigger picture was being painted beyond what I could see.

It turns out that yes--a bigger picture was definitely in the works, as that home I went to see is now ours!  And it's everything that Raleigh and I had wanted--and more!--meeting EVERY single criteria we had thrown out there, which is something that honestly, we had not yet seen in a single house until that point in time.  And our offer stuck, despite several other offers (I think 5?) being made on the same property, all at a higher price point!

I've heard that song again many times since our offer was accepted, and the words have indeed helped me to focus on the reality that was unfolding in front of my eyes, even though what I could see didn't seem that beautiful (or promising) at all.  That thought/reality I'm sure is playing out in other areas of my life as well, which has helped me adjust my perspective on those as well.  Where else is He working to bring about something more wonderful than I can imagine?

Here are the lyrics in full:

"Just Be Held" by Casting Crowns

Hold it all together
Everybody needs you strong
But life hits you out of nowhere
And barely leaves you holding on

And when you're tired of fighting
Chained by your control
There's freedom in surrender
Lay it down and let it go

So when you're on your knees and answers seem so far away
You're not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your worlds not falling apart, its falling into place
I'm on the throne, stop holding on and just be held
Just be held, just be held

If your eyes are on the storm
You'll wonder if I love you still
But if your eyes are on the cross
You'll know I always have and I always will

And not a tear is wasted
In time, you'll understand
I'm painting beauty with the ashes
Your life is in My hands

Lift your hands, lift your eyes
In the storm is where you'll find Me
And where you are, I'll hold your heart
I'll hold your heart
Come to Me, find your rest
In the arms of the God who wont let go

This song is a new favorite of mine, and likely will stay that way for a long while.  It's good to remember that no matter what, God is on the throne.  And He is good--ALL THE TIME.

My permanent home is not in the beautiful house that Raleigh and I will hopefully raise our family for many years to come--although that is a gift in and of itself for sure--but rather in His arms.  Home sweet HOME!

Today's quick quip . . .

In line with the boys at Panera for lunch, and the gentleman behind the register asks me if all three boys are mine. I kindly smiled, knowing more questions were to come, "Yep, all three!" He then saw my bulging belly (thank God I look more pregnant than fat now) and said, "And number four is on the way?!" "Yes, sir," I answered again. He continued with a raised eyebrow: "Is that one going to be the last of the bunch?" I took a deep breath and smiled ever so sweetly (again) . . .

"Only God knows for sure, but I'm not planning on stopping until I get an ugly one!"

You should have seen his face . . .    :):):):)::A:s;dlkfasdf

Lunchtime Q&A With Strangers

Saturday at lunch I was approached by no fewer than three people at different times, to inquire if the boys were triplets. 

I smiled and honestly answered "No," and then turned my attention back to the boys who were conversing with me and trying to eat. 

To one inquisitive gal who pressed the issue ("Well, they sure do look alike . . ."), Blake's response was perfect--"No, we're brothers!" 

And to the other gal, who returned to her seat to chat with her lunch partner and spoke just loud enough for me to hear ("Do you think she doesn't know they're triplets? I mean, really--look at them!"), 

Yes, I'm pretty certain they're not triplets. Have a great day!

One More to Come

Anticipating another February birthday . . .

Superhero Heart Run 2015

Superhero: (n) Type of hero that possesses extraordinary superhuman powers, is remarkably brave, has great courage or strength of character.

The first of a new annual Elstun family tradition, celebrating our sweet and fiery Ethan and raising awareness of CHD. Go Team E^5!

Say Hey

However long our feet have walked on this world
We’ve all lived long enough to know
That sometimes life will go our way
And other times it won’t
But still I’ve got this joy inside of me
With each new dawn I do believe to

Say hey, it’s a good day
Even if things aren’t going my way
Jesus is Lord and I am saved
So, say hey, it’s a good day

Happy Easter!

Well . . . wow.  So today was . . . today was a day!  And praise Jesus for that!  And I'm still standing.  (And not only that, but have enough energy to write about it--a bonus!)

The day started with Raleigh stirring beside me--a VERY rare occurrence since we don't share any days off together.  I smiled sweetly at hearing the rumble of his early morning snores reverberating off the pillow, and thought to myself, "It's going to be a great day."  And then, our day began . . .

After drifting back off to sleep with the thought I might be able to catch just a few more moments of precious slumber, my trio began singing from their cribs.  Time to get up!

Despite the early start, breakfast was hurried and no one wanted to eat.  Well, Raleigh and I did, but doing so was encumbered by the fact that one child kept throwing food on the floor (we won't name that child--ahem, Ethan) while the other two kept fighting over who got to hold the white truck that had previously been sitting in the middle of the living room, unwanted by anyone.

While the kids were locked into their high chairs, I ran upstairs to curl my hair and slip into my dress.  I pulled the purple and orange flowery one from my closet (a feel-good choice in that I wore it for our rehearsal dinner, and I always feel like a lady in it) and as I flipped it over to slide it over my head, saw that one of the pleats in the back was completely ripped, with frayed fabric outlining a very big--and un-mendable hole.  Well, so much for that!  I went for plan B and grabbed an equally cute (but less "Eastery") black and white dress from my closet and threw it on.  "At least I have another dress clean and ironed, I thought.  This is going to be a good day!"

After double changes on two of the three (since the youngest filled their diapers again immediately after getting fresh drawers on), a bolt towards the car and a crying fit of who gets the coveted middle car seat (I think they like to see out the front?) we made our way to church.  I looked in the back seat at each of our boys, dressed so handsomely in their three piece suits and homemade Easter crowns (picture crayon scribbles and upside-down stickers on a band of poorly-cut construction paper) and said, "I love you, boys."  And each one of them (almost in unison!) said, "I love you, too."  And I thought, "This is going to be a good day!"

And guess what?  Despite the overwhelming number of people moving in and out of the church doors and driving around in the crowded parking lot, we managed to find a wide space in which to park, not too far from the front, next to a sidewalk where everyone could walk in safely!  "This is going to be a great day!"

Well, regardless of the safety zone the sidewalk provided, no one wanted to walk and each went limp at any suggestion of it.  So we threw on our cowboy badges and tried herd the kids like cats into mass.  Seeing we were outnumbered (aren't we always?) and were not likely to win without a Ghandian sit-in on the church sidewalk, we acknowledged defeat and carried all three of them from the parking lot inside.

Thankfully my parents kept up with their lovely practice of holding seats for us, since it takes us so much longer to get in to church than most.  The boys' leg span are not that great just yet and those entry way stairs and long ways down the aisle to our pews take some time.  :)  And so we sat--in an entire pew saved for us and my brother and his family--and sat down EARLY (another win!) for Easter service.  "This is going to be a great day!"

Well, my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew ended up not making it (SUPER disappointing), and the buzz of the crowded church added to the chaos.  Well, that, and the fact that my kids were FIESTY--with Raleigh having to take them out "for walks" on at least 3 separate occasions.  And that was in between them falling limp in our arms, wanting me to hold all three at once ("No, that's MYYYYYYYYYY mommy!") and usual cries/wiggles/tantrums/protests of toddlers trying to make it through mass.  There was a point when Blake was sitting happily near my dad, Ethan was snuggled into Raleigh's chest, and Carson was singing along the hymns with me (and dutifully listening to my explanation of why Jesus was no longer "hiding" behind the blanket--in our church, the statue of the Resurrected Christ is covered during Lent until Easter Sunday), and I thought, "Somehow, this IS working.  Today is going to be a great day!"

I don't remember much of the homily (thank goodness I had gone over the day's readings last night and so had reflected on them a little bit prior to today's service) and was grateful to make it through mass without completely (or so I hope) turning off our church neighbors as to ever coming back to mass again.  (I think the boys were so adorable in their suits and charmed them all with handshakes and toothy smiles when it was time to share peace, they had at some level forgotten how distracting they were during the other 49 minutes of mass.)

We got to my folks safely after church (and a quick grocery run) and the boys had fun playing in the sun while Omi and Papa finished up making lunch.  They kicked a soccer ball in the grass, climbed a tree, "fixed" rocks with my dad's garden hose, drew lines in the dirt with sticks, and disassembled my mom's garden accessories.  In other words, they got to be boys.  And I enjoyed every minute watching them.  "This is going to be a great day!"

We enjoyed lunch with my parents and cousins, and sister-in-law and nephew (they made it to lunch!).  SO good!  Unfortunately, Ethan refused to eat anything (and I do mean ANYTHING) and holding him prevented me from getting much from the plate to my mouth.  He did perk up quickly once he saw his Easter basket, however, and the baggie of Cadbury mini eggs his Omi so selflessly sacrificed for her grandsons.  Of course mommy was mean and said he could only eat one, which again let to a long song of tears and whining.  Thankfully, he's easily distracted, and so ended the tears after showing him the bouncy ball (and stickers!) he also had in his basket.  Crisis averted.

With me tickling their feet and shoving goldfish in their hands to keep them busy, the boys managed to stay awake the entire ride home (score for us to ensure a full nap for all three boys--at the same time!).  They protested to go upstairs (and fought for a few minutes before drifting off to sleep) but eventually gave in.  Raleigh and I had some time alone!  Together!  (That hardly ever happens!)  So what did we do?  We worked on our bathroom!

Raleigh made great progress and finished installing the plumbing on our sinks (a task we've wanted to do for WEEKS) and we high-fived as the water turned on successfully with a half rotation of the knobs.  Of course, only one side of each sink was in the right direction, with the left knob in the "on" position actually letting water flow freely--while the other side (right knob) actually letting water out while in the "off" position.  We laughed.  At least we're closer than we were before!  And progress is progress--"It's going to be a great day!"

Of course we realized Carson was awake the entire time--he had a poopy diaper (grrrrrr, the timing!)--and so was really happy once his brother woke up too.  The happy chatter was a welcome end to our time in remodel mode and we got the kids up from their naps.

We did enjoy a good dinner together at a favorite restaurant we all love, and Raleigh and I relished in the time we were spending as a family, without the rush of day care drop-off and pick-up or a hurried dinner between work and bathtime/bed.  Of course, we just had to laugh when after we left the restaurant (where Blake had been changed) and were taking a long and scenic walk back to the car, that Ethan and Carson divulged they too had full, poopy (and I do mean FULL) diapers.  We changed Carson but realized his clean diaper was the last in the bag (why do my kids have to poop so much?!) and that Ethan might have to sit in the car on the way home in messy pants.  Knowing that we couldn't handle the smell for the ride home (and felt doubly bad when Ethan jumped up on the bench to be changed, asking for a clean diaper), we decided to hijack the cleanish diaper from Blake and put it on Ethan instead.   Ethan seemed pleased and Blake promised he'd keep dry pants (I think he secretly was excited to go commando), and we made it home.  No more poopy diapers from any of them, and Blake stayed dry!  He even told me he had to go potty when we got home and made it to the toilet before wetting!  Hooray!  "This is going to be a good day!"

Now, I have three sleeping little boys upstairs and a big boy on the couch (with whom I get to snuggle in just a bit).  I am so blessed.  And speaking of blessings, today is Easter--our Lord is Risen!  Today IS a good day!

Circumstance and situations change
You know life can turn on a dime
But there’s a constant hope and peace
That I have come to find
And it’s all because of who God is
And that He is alive and I am His, so

Say hey, it’s a good day
Even if things aren’t going my way
Jesus is Lord and I am saved
So, say hey, it’s a good day

~"Say Hey" lyrics by FFH

Warning Lights

It was the second time in two months that I'd been pulled over for a driving infraction, and although my record prior to these instances was nearly unremarkable, the hit stung hard.

After balling my eyes out in the car (my go-to method for stress relief), I texted Raleigh to tell him the news. I knew I couldn't yet talk about it, but wanted him to know.

He called shortly after I got to work, anxious to soothe the frazzled spirit of his frustrated and embarrassed wife.  "It will be ok," he tried to convince me.  "Really.  It's just paperwork."

"I know, I know," I said flatly, still holding back tears.  He could hear it in my voice.  My pride was hurt and the checks on my mental checklist of how-this-mistake-is-going-to-cost-us was ticking off in my head.

In one quick sentence Raleigh cut to my core and reminded me why the morning's actions hurt so bad: "Sweetie, give yourself some grace.  It's ok to fail."

Ouch.  There it was.

I've always done well at succeeding--numerous awards during my school years, Valedictorian of my high school class, world travel as a curious and courageous college student, different accolades and promotions at work, home ownership at the young age of 21, leadership positions in various organizations and honors for volunteer work I've done.  I've been a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, and anything I put my name to usually reflects those intentions. Yet I've also learned over the years one of the biggest motivators for me to do so well in so many areas of my life was/is a fairly big fear of failure.  I didn't want to be wrong or not good enough, and so I did everything I could in my power to be right and/or "good enough" to be publicly praised and valued.  It's silly, I know (no one is perfect and I'm loved anyways!) and yet it's something I work towards remembering each and every day.  And as my partner, Raleigh knows this about me and lovingly draws my attention to this fact whenever I tend to forget.

Still, I found Raleigh's continued suggestion rather annoying:: "Remember, we want the boys to learn that experiencing failure is ok." (I know he doesn't mean to dig in an already sore wound, but really?!)

Sigh.

He's right.  And the reminder is one I desperately needed to hear.  I would have liked the trigger to be something a little less painful (no police officers involved, please), however it is what it is and I screwed up. That doesn't mean I have to beat myself up or crawl into a hole in shame (although I certainly felt like that was a reasonable option this morning), or that I am any less of a person, wife, mother, friend, daughter, employee, etc. because of my mistakes.  And I am loved regardless.

So . . . it's time for one of those shifts in perspective:

Despite our hardships (and some of them have been HARD), Raleigh and I have maintained a strong and faithful marriage. I take pride in our choice to raise our boys as we are (they really are good kids) and how we're managing to "keep it together" despite the constant chaos and worldly stressors we regularly find loading our plate.  On that same note, I can take pride in knowing what I am doing "right" even if I am quite unsure what I am doing half of the time and am screwing up the other half of the time. I am proud of our boys and use feedback we get from friends, family, and strangers alike that we're doing an ok job, and take the boys' efforts to offer forgiveness, help around the house, and their general happy and energetic demeanor as evidence that they're doing well and thriving under our care.  My house is not the cleanest (by any means!), and I don't remember the last time I was able to get everyone's clothes folded and put away in closets and drawers.  However, I do manage to keep clean countertops in the kitchen and toys are contained to the living room and the boys bedrooms (and bathtub and couch cushions and coat pockets--but that's another story).  And I have a handle on laundry enough to guarantee there are clean clothes to wear somewhere in the house.  My kids are generally well-behaved (at least in public) and seem to be hitting their developmental milestones on target.  Not necessarily in this order, they also appear to be learning about love, forgiveness, Jesus Christ, what it means to be family, and how to resolve conflict.  (That last one as of late has been the most challenging, with many efforts made to encourage healthy conflict resolution . . .)  Our life is at this point in time at least, one of busyness and nonstop movement.  Yet it is also one of great love and forgiveness.

So maybe these flashing lights are telling me more than to slow down and pay close attention to my (physical) surroundings.  Maybe they are a humbling (and uncomfortable) reminder that I am not perfect.  And more so, that I can forgive myself because I don't have to be.

Word Up

For a third year in a row, I've decided to "word up" and choose a single word to guide me through the coming year.  Instead of a traditional New Year's resolution that tends to fall flat over time or a stated goal that can easily be forgotten once achieved, I select a word to inspire and encourage me throughout the next 12 months.  I choose very carefully, as I've learned words are very powerful and once the universe is aware of what one is looking for, things play out in such a way that allows that very word to take root and become something greater than just a few letters on a page.

Fueled by my first two years--where TRUST gave me a run for my money in terms of holding faith when I could not see and when I had absolutely no control over matters that were incredibly big and scary--and JOYFUL supported me in taking a step back to see and appreciate all the wonderful people and things I am blessed to have in my life --I knew that this year's choice would be pivotal.  So I thought about it, and I prayed about it.  And I thought about it some more.  I mulled over several options in my head and heart, and yet kept going back to the one that came to me first: EMBRACE.

I really wrestled this time, and even after the clock ticked over to 12:00a on January 1st, I wasn't certain I'd chosen well.  However the longer I sit with my choice I do believe it is likely to serve me well this next year.  It isn't very glamorous or poetic, and it really doesn't "feel" as well as my previous words did, but I think that may just be the point and embracing my new word (no pun intended) may very well support me in making the future less stressful and uncomfortable.

You see, big things are happening for my family this year and as we get closer to certain milestones and events taking place, I find myself digging my heels in and holding back, wanting to postpone the changes that are sure to come my way.  I am not comfortable where I am and these changes--although challenging in both preparation and the moment of execution--are sure to take me closer to where I want to be with regards to finances, family, time, etc.  So why is it so easy to resist?  When I know the eventual outcome will be good, why do I choose to prolong the pain when I could just as easily choose to take action and end it more quickly?  If I spent half the effort to get what I want that I spend on pushing the pause button or temporarily closing the door I know I will need (and want) to walk through, I dare say my life would look much different. What exactly am I waiting for?

So 2015 is my year to EMBRACE.  To embrace the changes coming my way, to welcome them enthusiastically and as such, stop fighting the inevitable.  To participate more wholly in the solutions to my problems instead of resisting them with such vigor and/or pushing them them away for a future confrontation.  To embrace the relationships in my life that are difficult, and that I know are not likely to change any time soon; to accept them as they are and focus more seriously on healing what portions of those (and myself) I can.  To embrace the way things are--not in a complacent, whatever happens, happens way--but in a more peaceful and positive, here-I-am-and-here's-what-I-have-to-work-with way; to encourage myself to take more action in getting what I want, versus swimming in the same pool of "I wonder if..." or "I wish..." with future plans always staying in "someday" land.

To embrace all that this year has to offer.  I'm ready; let's go!

My First Fix

There it was this evening, nestled up tight against the door, waiting for me to get home from work and unleash the possibilities--my first Fix!

Stitch Fix is . . . well, an experience!  It is a mail order/shopping experience where you fill out a very thorough profile online and then pay $20 for a stylist to read said profile, and pick out five clothing (and/or accessory) items for you.  They are sent by mail.  You keep what you want with your $20 being credited towards your total purchase (25% off if you keep all five items) and return those you don't want in a prepaid envelope/bag within 3 business days.  Keep nothing and all you lose is the $20 styling fee.  Provide feedback to your stylist about her selections for you, and help them "fine-tune" your next Fix to be even better than the last!

No malls.  No digging through racks or scouring stores.  No maneuvering a double stroller through tight aisles or trying to keep three wandering explorers from climbing clothing racks or under dressing room stalls.  No searching for the right size or feeling the pressure of just taking it to try on at home, knowing full well the return will be just as painful as the purchase.

In thinking about what I might  do with my selections (details below) and whether or not each was worthy of purchase, I realized my feelings about this experience are worth considering as well.  I mean, I haven't been this excited for clothing in a VERY long time and haven't been this excited about shopping for myself in, well, EVER!  Even Raleigh told me he's had fun watching me talk about my upcoming Fix and then watching me tear into the box with such anticipation and joy.  I don't know if it's the fact that the box is a mystery with the contents being a great surprise, if I'm just that excited to get something new and different from what I've already got in my closet (can you say BORING?!), or if I've just been curious to see if someone who doesn't know me, can really "know" me.  Regardless, waiting for my box and then exploring the contents has been a blast.  And I think that is worth something right there.

So what was inside?  Here you go:

My sylist's name is Jenna.  Her note to me said that she gave me versatile pieces I could dress up or down (a request I'd made in my profile) and that helped me look "put together" without even trying (another request, being a busy mom of three littles).  I was excited to see what she picked out for me!

Item #1--Callie Denim Jacket ($74)
Thoughts:  LOVED the jacket at first glance, and thought--Jenna nailed it!  This is totally me!  Saw the price and lost great enthusiasm to keep searching through the box.
Verdict: Unsure.  With consideration to the fact that the jean jacket I wear now was purchased for my 8th grade class photos (yes, really!) and has seen better days with regards to wear, I think it is time to perhaps purge an old object for a new one.  And as Raleigh pointed out, even if I keep this jacket far less than I have the other one (say, only 5 years), I'll be paying just about $1.25 per month. Taking that into consideration, the cost of the jacket doesn't seem so great. Suddenly, I'm seriously considering the jacket again as it doesn't seem quite so expensive.

 Item #2--Henderson Mixed Stripe Knit Shirt ($68)
Thoughts: Also loved this, and felt like it was a great fit for my style/personality.  And it is very unlike anything I already own, so liked that.  It has a cute notch in the back that makes the shirt a bit "flirty" per Raleigh's description, and the offset stripes are positioned just right so as to make the shirt more slimming than I'd have thought.
Verdict: Keep!

Item #3--Edmond Chevron Print Henley Shirt ($54)
Thoughts: I wasn't a fan of the shirt right off the bat--it seemed to "printy" and just not the right cut for me.  However, in trying it on, I liked the rounded cut along the bottom (not visible in the photo) as well as the cuffed 3/4 half sleeves.  It is a push for me (style-wise), however I think I could feel really good in it with a grey pair of dress slacks or a fitted pair of jeans.
Verdict: I'm going to give it a go; keep!

Item #4--Lauree 3/4 Sleeve Vneck Drape Dress ($68)
Thoughts: I like the basic style of this dress and color, however the midline was a bit too high to feel or look "right" on me.  Raleigh wasn't too excited about it (said that it didn't give me much shape) and I agree.
Verdict: Return.

Item #5--Gustav Textured V-Neck Sweater ($68)
Thoughts: The color is great and the texture is soft and unique!  In putting it on, however, there are many spaces between the sweater fibers, which I can see getting pulled on by little fingers (and eventually ripped).  Furthermore, I didn't like the way the sweater just hung on me with very little shape or contouring.
Verdict: Return.

So to summarize, here's what I like:

• The "no shopping" shopping experience.  No stress, no fuss.  No wrangling kids.  No taking time out of my busy day to go on a fashion hunt that may or may not be fruitful.
• The style cards.  These are worth a few bucks right here as I am not great at pairing fashion items together.  Thankfully, the cards take the guessing work out of it and give me great ideas on how to wear each piece with items I might already own.
• All but one piece (the red sweater) was made in the USA.  I like knowing I'm supporting US manufacturing versus foreign companies.
• Material/fit.  Sizes were true and everything (save the blue dress) seemed to fit well.  And everything (minus the denim jacket) is SUPER soft to the touch.  I wanted to rub myself all over the fabric is so comfortable.

Here's what I wish was different:

• Timing.  I ordered my Fix nearly 6 full weeks before it arrived.  I wish it came a little bit sooner after I'd ordered it, although waiting did add to the anticipation factor of its arrival.
• Cost.  I selected "the cheaper, the better" option on my online profile, so I'm guessing this is standard pricing for their lowest cost items.  If I were to keep all five pieces, the cost would have been $234 which averages to about $47 per piece.  Definitely more than I'd spend on clothing anywhere else, but then again, I have to remind myself this isn't only about about the physical clothes--my time and well-being (low stress) is worth something too.  As much as it hurts the pocket book, so as long as the clothes are of good quality, I'm game to pay a little bit more once and awhile.

I do think that I'll order another Fix, likely to come sometime after the first of the year.  (I'd like to see what comes this Christmas though, first.)  I'll let my stylist know what worked for me this round, and what I'd like to see different in the next batch.  And then we'll see what comes!

Oh, and should anyone want to order their own Fix, please do let me know so I can share my referral code with you, or click HERE to visit my Stitch Fix referral page.  I'll get $20 towards my next Fix, which is totally awesome!

Dear Grandma

Dear Grandma Ruth,

Happy Birthday!  Although you would have been 88 down here yesterday, my guess is time doesn't quite work the same way up there and that instead of slowing down with your feet, you've only become quicker with your wings.  (Which is good, because my three little earthly angels are FAST and their Guardian Angels have to keep steady watch!)

It's been nearly 3.5 years since you flew away, yet in some ways I feel closer to you now than I did when you were walking this Earth with us.  See, I've thought of you COUNTLESS times since I last saw you in the flesh, and have felt your presence more times than not.  I'm sure you've noticed, however sometimes when I feel I overwhelmed or in need of a hug from you or Grandpa Emil, I wear the ring you gave me on my wedding day--a sign of a love much greater and bigger than myself.  Knowing that it was his gift to you on your 35th wedding anniversary (and that you wanted to bestow that gift to me) fills my heart with so much joy and love, I cannot explain!  The ring is a remembrance that even with all you and Grandpa endured, 35 (or rather, 55!) years was/is possible and however young in the journey, I am on my way to creating such a legacy of my own . . .

Speaking of legacy . . . HOW IN THE WORLD DID YOU DO THIS?!  And by "this," I mean parenting a gaggle of children?  I mean, I'm only up to three but these three keep me on my toes more often than a world class ballerina.  I cannot imagine how life was like with 14 running/crawling/driving/jumping/walking around . . . seriously!

It may look like we're holding it together pretty well from up there, but then again, if that's the perspective you have, then I'm guessing you can also see how often we struggle.  When it comes to parenting, I feel like I'm failing miserably most of the time, and am praying that no one discovers what great frauds we are at this mom and dad stuff.  Yet, I do have hope that if you and Grandpa could manage to raise 14 happy and healthy children, that somehow Raleigh and I won't screw our kids up too bad and there is a chance we will leave a legacy in our children we can be proud of.

Thank you for watching over us, Grandma, and for the inspiration you give me even now, from the clouds.  I hope your birthday was heavenly (I know, cheesy pun) and look forward to feeling your presence again soon.  I hope I am making you (and Grandpa) proud . . .

All my love,
~Kimberly

The Question

Today we were walking to our car after mass at the same time a group of older folks were heading towards church.  We didn't really notice them until they yelled across the parking lot with the question.  The question that we get asked A LOT.  We didn't even have to look around to see if they were possibly talking to anyone else, as once we heard the question, we knew.

"Are they triplets?!"

Now, I will admit I can see how from a distance perhaps, it appears that our boys could share the same birthday.  They are all blonde and of about the same weight and height.  However there are some MAJOR differences that I think would indicate that no, they are not triplets.  First of all, the twins are identical and (especially to folks who don't see them often) look VERY MUCH alike.  Blake looks completely different; his hair is darker, he is still at least a head taller than the other two, and weighs more as well.  And as he should, he's also developmentally well beyond where they are with regards to walking/running/climbing/etc. and talking.  These are all characteristics that if observed, would give great clues to the truth that the boys are not triplets.  Brothers, probably, but triplets?  No.

That being said, how am I to answer this question?

If I say, "Yes," that'd be a lie.  I don't want to lie.

If I say, "No, just twins," I am downplaying how special Carson and Ethan are while negating the fact that Blake even exists as a member of our family.  I'm not cool with that.

If I say, "No, twins and an older brother," (over time this has become my most common response), the response on the other end is usually an obviously (and audibly) disappointed, "Oh."  And then the person(s) who asked the initial question usually go on their way without any other word or comment, their fascination with our trio suddenly as limp and as flat as a balloon that was just popped.

And THAT response--that walking away with obvious disappointment--quite frankly, is what REALLY bothers me.  I find it incredibly rude and selfish when (while minding our own business) we are approached (or like today, simply called out) to question us about the boys' multiples status (of all things?!) and upon learning the truth--that we have three incredibly handsome, smart, energetic, healthy, and happy boys, two of which happen to be identical twins, but all three miracles nonetheless--decide our family isn't of enough value to continue talking to.  I guess we're on the tipping point of being an oddity of freakshow status; we are an anomaly, but not far enough outside the realm of "normal" to be of value for further conversation or even basic friendliness.  What are the children to make of this response?  What might they start making up about themselves if this response is the one they see repeated the most often, from folks who don't even really know them?

I get it.  People are curious.  And twins/triplets/quads, etc. are interesting and exciting.  And if I saw a family with several young kids all about the same age walking across the street, I'd probably wonder if they were multiples.  But I certainly wouldn't go out of my way to ask the family that, and/or posture it the way most do, without any other greeting or relationship-establishing language.  I mean, really, can't we first set even basic framework for some sort of friendly interaction, such as "Good afternoon" or "Hello"?!

I wish people would see us as more than just the family with twins (or "triplets"), as we are much, much more.  And the boys are much more too.  Each is amazing in his own right, and incredibly different (and special!) from the other two.  Blake is more than just the older brother of twins.  And Carson and Ethan are more than just one half of a pair.  All three make up a tight band of brothers (I pray they stay that way!), and are not just a slice of the Raleigh/Kim Elstun pie cut into thirds.

I have learned to respond to the comment, "You certainly have your hands full!" with "Joyfully so, yes!" or "They are, but our hearts are bursting!" in an effort to shine the truth on the status of our family--busy yet loving, chaotic yet beautiful.  I haven't yet come up with such a clever response to the triplets question, and know that regardless, we're likely to continue to get "the question," at least for a while.  I hope that no matter what, I can answer in a way that acknowledges each of the boys as the special little men they are, both individually and as part of our family.  After all, they each are incredibly amazing.

Go, Team E^5!

Johnny Carson

On our way home from our SD/ND/MN trip last month, we passed through Norfolk, Nebraska.

While driving on Johnny Carson Boulevard . . .

Me: Did you notice we passed Johnny Carson's childhood home on our way in?

Raleigh: No, I didn't.  Hey, did you know my grandma once dated Johnny Carson?

Me: I think you told me that once before.

Raleigh: Just think--if things had worked out, we could have a Carson Carson.

Me: If our last name was "Carson," I don't think Carson would have been a first name option for any of our children.  In fact, I don't think you would be a "Raleigh" since Raleigh is an Elstun family name.  You probably would have been a "Johnny Jr." or something like that.

Which, come to think about it, means I probably couldn't have married you.

Raleigh: So it's a good thing things worked out the way they did?

Me: I think so.

Raleigh (while glancing at the rear-view mirror to see three smiling boys): Yeah, I do too.  :)

Six Months, One Year, Two Years

Wow.  Time moves so fast.  And yet at times, the opposite seems true.

These past two weeks have held much emotion for me, as I've pondered where we were 6 months, one year, and also two years ago . . .

SIX MONTHS AGO

I went from hospital to hospital for this:

and this:

I prayed.  I held hands.  I cried.  I paced the hallways.  I didn't sleep, yet I was exhausted beyond description.  I prayed some more.  I shouted at the walls in angry rants.  I prayed.  I was overwhelmed and unsure.  I cried even more.  I asked questions.  And I prayed. My heart hurt.

And now, six months later, I get to experience this:

ONE YEAR AGO

I went from this:

to this:

I knew life was going to change come February, but that's about all I knew.  The boys came and I couldn't see straight. I wasn't sleeping. (Ok I WAS sleeping, but in increments too short and too few to really count.) I was head over heels in love with the two newest members of our family, and yet I was miserable at the same time. I was overwhelmed to the point where it felt like I was drowning on dry land. I had everything I ever wanted--and yet didn't want--at the same time. My heart hurt.

And now, one year later, I get to experience this:

TWO YEARS AGO

I went from this:

to this:

In what felt like seconds our world was turned upside-down, and not in the way we had imagined or hoped for. I was scared. I didn't sleep. I cried. I spent countless hours simply watching and praying, and praying and watching. I would sneak kisses when the nurses weren't looking and dreamed of the day I could hold my happy, healthy little boy. I held little fingers and sobbed into the chest of a strong husband who was as scared and as uncertain as I.  I was overwhelmed.  I prayed and I prayed and I prayed.  My heart hurt.

And now, two years later, I get to experience this:

So much can happen, so fast.  I may have plans and I can dream, however the Lord only knows where I will be six months, one year, and two years from now. 

And no matter what I face, I can be sure of one thing--God is bigger.

Sweetness

Snuggling with Blake in the rocking chair tonight (something that I usually miss out on since I am busy feeding the twins), and I kiss his forehead and tell him I love him. He looks back up me and smiles, then settles his way into my arms and closes his eyes. "Thank you, God, for making me Blake's mommy," I say softly. 
"Ain-yoo," Blake chimes in.  (That's his 'thank you'.)
Sigh. Be still my melting heart...

First Regret of 2014

I didn't have the camera handy when I entered the bathroom to find Blake sitting in the filling bathtub (with 2-3 inches of water already in it), fully clothed and crying. With two younger, yet not-totally-innocent-looking brothers standing at the edge of the tub, watching.

JOYFUL.

It's that time again . . . time for change, new direction, and unseen possibilities.  And as before, I'm going to ditch the traditional New Year's Resolution list to select what my friend Jen calls a "touchpoint" or a "companion" for the next year.  Time to choose a word for how I want experience (and therefore how I want to be) this coming year.

And I'll admit, I write this post with much angst, as this is a big deal.  A BIG deal.  My word for 2013 was TRUST (click here to read all about that one!), and boy oh boy, did I have plenty of opportunities to practice that!  From welcoming the boys via c-section early in the year, to learning to "grow gills" as I not-so-gracefully transitioned to parenting 3 young kiddos, to searching for adequate day care for the boys, to my Dad getting suddenly and deathly sick (an experience that wasn't short-lived, either), to Ethan having open heart surgery . . . it's been quite the year and I've had no lack of occasions during which I could focus on and live out my word.  And although I struggled immensely in the moment, I look back and can see that despite the intense challenge, my word was perfect for all I encountered and supported me especially when I found myself in situations much bigger than myself, during which I needed to have some reassurance (and hope!) things were going to (somehow) be ok. In some small way, my ability to TRUST played a part in helping me survive this past year.

Survive.  In so many ways, I feel like that word alone summarizes what I did this past year. It was hard, really hard. And although I have some pretty amazing stories to tell and benchmarks upon which I can count the year as a success, I am pretty sure I could do without the stress and chaos I feel I found myself swimming in for a good portion of the last 365 days.

That leads me into what more/different/better I want for this year.  Sure, I want to survive; yet I want to do more than that, too.  I want to thrive, and in doing so, I want to live joyfully.

I want more peace, less chaos and stress.  I want to laugh more and cry less.  I want to delight in my children more often, playing with and loving them with a blissful energy that matches theirs.  I want the "tasks" required by motherhood and marriage to be accomplished cheerfully, with a spring in my step and a constant, happy reminder of how blessed I am to get to be three little persons' mommy and someone's wife.  I want to enjoy more, and "manage" or "simply get by" less.  I want to smile more often, and spend less time clenching my jaw while bracing for the next impact.  I want to take in full, deep breaths that rejuvenate, not little wisps of half-breaths that feel like they're coming through a straw and simply allow me to tread water for another minute or two.  I want to nurture the relationships that are important to me, contributing to their vibrancy and growth, not be in the position to lean on them one-directionally, drawing their life and energy dry.  I want to feel free of the emotional weight that has burdened my shoulders for so long, and instead skip with a lightness and bounce that nearly leaves me weightless.  I want to live a life that is VIBRANT and exciting, nourishing and generous, lively and regenerating . . . and I want to enjoy it all.

I know I cannot prevent the things that occurred this past year from happening again, and I know that 2014 is likely to hold its own stresses and challenges to wade through and conquer.  If there's anything I learned from 2013, though, it's that each moment is a gift and I am blessed in more ways than I can count.  This year, I want that understanding to permeate all that I do, and allow me to truly enjoy all I've been given.

I choose JOYFUL . . .

Thank You, God

For baby breaths--hot, humid puffs of air against my neck, born by a slumbering babe snuggled into my chest.
For deep wrinkles in stretched skin, and a scar across my lower abdomen--a visible reminder of the three miracles I carried, and of the great technology and amazing doctors who helped us safely welcome them to this side of my belly button.
For sunshine and the warmth it brings, no matter the ambient temperature.
For an incredible partner, lover, husband, friend; Raleigh, you are my rock and I love you!
For pomegranates and the burst of juicy goodness each aril makes as it pops in my mouth.
For my Daddy, the world's strongest man and the first one I ever loved. He carried me on his shoulders, kissed my cheeks, and taught me how to properly wield a hammer, and now, for the opportunity to watch him dote, carry, kiss, and love on my boys.
For time; each minute I am blessed to draw breath, experience life, and BE.
For free will, forgivness, and the love of a heavenly Father that is deep beyond comprehension.
For the sparkle in the bright blue eyes of an almost two-year old, whose "Mama" can melt my heart even when throwing the biggest of tantrums.
For little piles of potting soil and garden rocks ground into the carpet, greasy handprints on freshly washed window panes, and chunks of half-eaten food stuck to the bottom of my socks--signs that I have active little people underfoot, everyday.
For naptime, whenever I'm blessed to partake.
For our home, a humble (and oftentimes cramped) abode that keeps us warm and dry, that holds our tears and laughter, and in some ways, has symbolically held the heart of our little family steady while chaos swirls wildly.
For my Mom, the always unpredictable/good for a laugh/heart of gold/tell-it-like-it-is force that has taught me to be strong in the face of adversity while loving with all I have.
For health--my own and this year especially, that of my family and those I love.
For healing in all forms.
For the soft touch of my pillow against my face, in a bed that I wish I could spend more time in.
For rainbows.
For letters and cards, handwritten or otherwise--gifts that touch the heart simply because someone took the time to send them.
For my husband's culinary talents and mechanical smarts; I am one lucky lady!
For my youngest born, whose spirit is like fire in more ways than one, and whose heart--both literal and figurative--has already taught so many of us so much.
For the annoying buzz of the alarm, reminding me that despite the early hour, I have an outlet to express my talents in a way that helps others and from which I can earn pay and help support our family.
For the piles and piles and piles of laundry I wash and dry, as we have plenty of clothing to keep us fitted and warm.
(And on that note, for the technology of the washing machine, dryer, and dishwasher!)
For the three-toothed smile of the oldest twin, whose joy is indisputable and deep giggle contagious.
For rain and  the cleansing it brings.
For hot chocolate and snuggles beside the fireplace.
For Wednesdays, the "extra" day each week I get to delight in my children without the distraction of work. 

For the love and support of family and friends, who remind us we are never alone, ever.
For light.
For love.
For everything . . . I am so blessed.

"Advice"

One of my dearest friends is soon to give birth to her second child. As she  approaches his/her (still unknown) birthday, I asked what I could for her to support her pre-baby. Although I was thinking she'd request pre-made meals, diapers, laundry (or something of the sort), she insisted that all I give her is--advice.  Specifically, she asked me to share my "thoughts, tips and tricks" to having more than one child at home.

"What a silly idea," I thought.  "Who in the world am I to give advice on parenting?!  I'm still learning for myself and most days, wonder if I'm even close to getting this right!"

She was a HUGE support to me when I was pregnant with Blake (since she had recently been pregnant with her first as well) and so I felt like although I probably could "do" something more helpful to support her in getting ready for baby #2, I would kindly accomodate her request and share with her what I know.  (As if I am an expert, HARDLY!)  Yet since SO many other folks (friends and strangers alike) see us out with three little ones and ask us how we do what we do, I thought maybe others might like to see my thoughts on the matter, based on our experience.  I have thought about it a lot, and here is a summary of what I've learned this far . . .

Advice From Still-Learning, Not-So-Expert Parents of One Plus More

1. Trust your gut!

You know what you know and no one knows your kids or what works best for your family than you.  Believe that you CAN do a great job, and you will!

2. Keep moving.

Having more than one child requires that you live in almost constant motion.  Why?  Because that's what the chillins do!  In their 7 months of life I've seen the kids all take a substantial nap at the same time only a handful of times.  And now that the twins are crawling (and Blake is running), Raleigh and I are moving as fast as we can to stay one step ahead of them.  As Raleigh says, "it's like herding cats."

3. Give yourself (and your partner) much grace.

Especially in the early days of having more than one, it's easy to find yourself doing things you swore you would never do such as letting your oldest watch t.v. or sleep in your bed, eating breakfast cereal for dinner, or wearing your pajamas until bedtime.  It's not the end of the world and your children will not be ruined.  Sometimes, you just do what you need to do to make it through the day, and then start again tomorrow.

4. Here and there, INDULGE!

It took me MONTHS to carve the time out to paint my toenails after the boys were born.  And I felt like such a lady when I did, my only regret was not making the time to do it sooner.  I learned it is important to do little things here and there to treat oneself in the name of nurture.  To indulge even just a little bit can refresh the soul more than you might think.

5. It's all about . . . timing.

Whether you feel like you're going to pull your hair out or you're having a blissful I-have-this-parenting-thing-down type of day depends greatly on the timing of things.  Something as little as the timing of meals, naps, playtime, etc. make a huge difference in how your kids do during the day and how you as a parent respond.  I can still remember when this finally "clicked" for us--one day the kids were off just enough to run us ragged (Blake wanting to play at the same time I was trying to feed the twins, then needing to eat as I was trying to lay them down, etc.) and the next they were well behaved smiley angels and I didn't feel quite so stressed.  So play around with the timing of things until you find a pattern that works.  And as things flux (because they will), adjust accordingly.

6. If they all start to cry at once, take a deep breath.  Then, proceed to suggestions #1 and #2.

And if you need to cry too, it's ok.

7. Ask for help!

Chances are if you look around you, you have lots of friends and family who love you and are willing (and happy!) to lend a hand where need be, whether it's watching your kids, helping with a meal or transportation, cleaning, or just listening to you and reminding you you're doing a great job.  If you feel in need of some outside support, it's ok!  Just ask!  There is great truth to the line "it takes a village to raise a child," and this isn't more true than when you have more than one child to raise.

Give me time, and I'm sure I'll think of more "tips" to add.  Parenthood is a process and despite how easy we may make it look (I still cannot believe folks who tell us we make it look easy--ha, what a joke!), I don't think we'll ever be experts!

Why?!

Tonight I am sad, which isn't new.  But I'm also angry too, and that also is not new.  I'm afraid to say I'm getting really good at being both sad and angry . . .

So random, indeed.  And SO unfair.  Why dad?  Why now?  I mean really . . . why couldn't it be someone else?  Someone who is mean, unloving, disrespectful, violent, etc.  Someone who doesn't have any family or friends, who hates life and/or isn't going to be living it (i.e. a criminal already locked up somewhere).  Why?!

I know, I know--I sound horrible right now.  And life isn't fair.  And sometimes, bad things happen to good people.  I get it.  I've heard it before.  That still doesn't change the way I feel.  And no, I'm not wishing this on anyone else; I'm simply wishing it wasn't my dad.  MY dad.  My hero.  The first man I've ever loved.  One of my biggest fans and my boys' sweet Papa.  Why?!

I'd be lying if I said I haven't raised my head to the heavens and asked Him directly, "What do you think you're doing?!" as this reality we're living doesn't feel like we're being protected, cared for, or loved in any sensible way . . .

And yet, I cannot give up hope.  I won't.  It's literally all I have to cling onto right now, as Dad lay in ICU fighting for his life and Ethan is scheduled to undergo open heart surgery later this week.  They both HAVE to pull through this.  There's no question.  Any other alternative is not acceptable.

Which leads me to feeling sad.  And angry.  And asking why.  WHY?!