First deer

 

Eli’s first deer.  10  years old.  January 19, 2012.

I will never forget the excitement in his voice and the look on his face.   It was just precious.  He was so proud and overflowing with joy. 

 

Isaac’s first deer.  12 years old.  January 19, 2012.

It was the coldest day of the year.  -15 with the wind chill. 

I was watching from the window and it was a wonderful thing to see.  Three does, two boys who both wanted to take a shot.  Only one could take the first shot.  Isaac stepped aside and told Eli he could take the first shot because Isaac had a shot at a deer in the November gun hunt and Eli hadn’t. 

Eli took the shot and his deer was down.  Fortunately for Isaac, the other two does did not run away.  This gave Isaac an opportunity to take a shot.  He hit the doe, but it didn’t go down right away.  They tracked it for a while and decided to let her be and try again in the morning.  The temperature was about –15 with the wind chill.  Brrr.

Dad and Isaac got up early the next morning and found Isaac’s deer not far from where they had stopped tracking her.  Isaac was so happy (and relieved) to find his.  Upon further examination, they discovered that Isaac’s bullet hit a branch and that’s why the deer wasn’t hit where he was aiming.  Another relief for Isaac. :) 

Once again, we had another deer processing time.  Something the boys are really enjoying….especially the little two. :)

Camden and Logan both took turns turning the crank.

Congratulations, Isaac and Eli!  We are so proud of you!

Staring into the headlights

***This was a post on another blog I frequent.  It spoke directly to me.  I wanted to share it.  Maybe it can help you too.

Dear Moms,

Do you feel like you have been spending a fair share of your time staring into oncoming traffic?  Do you feel a little blindsided?  A little befuddled?

Do you wish you could get off the road, but you can’t find the exit?

I wish I could tell you the way to get off this road you are on, but sometimes it’s not your turn to exit.  Sometimes you have to stare down the headlights, face the oncoming traffic, and yes, even get run over.

Not because God doesn’t love you, but because often crisis draws you closer to the only One Who can pick you back up, dust you off, and send you on your way.

So, stop looking for exits and start looking up.  Stop focusing on the headlights and start focusing on His light.  You may get run over, but He will not leave you there to suffer endlessly.

Trust.  Believe.  Stand.

Love,
a mom who knows this road

raisingarrows.net

Be Blessed

Though you are tired and frustrated, remember that you are wonderfully made.
Though your emotions are drained, you are truly wonderfully made.

May you be blessed with courage and strength to face what lies ahead.
May you be blessed with wisdom to know your heart.
May you be blessed with rest, knowing your energy has been well spent.
May you be blessed with knowledge that there are some burdens you cannot bear; for bearing them would limit what you are able to do.
May you know that you are loved....deeply, completely and without limits.


I was going through a basket of "stuff" today, trying to organize.  I came across this little note that was given to me at a difficult time in my life (I think with Camden).  I liked it so much I wanted to keep it, but it somehow got buried in my junk basket.  I thought I would post it here so it would be remembered and maybe to help others who are struggling.  It was just what I needed today because although we endure trials, we are blessed.

Haircuts

Lookin' good!

Basketball season

Remember my post about basketball and the agonizing decision of whether to do it or not do it?!?!?  Remember how I really prayed about the decision and felt it was something we should let the boys do?!?!?

I can’t tell you how much we have been blessed by our boys playing basketball.  One of my concerns was that Josh would never be able to make it to a game.  With this back injury and only working four hours a day, he’s made it to most of the games.  Going to the games together has become a wonderful family night activity that we ALL look forward to.  They always play on the same night, same school one right after the other. 

I have watched my boys play basketball with Josh for years.  Our basketball court at home is rather funny.  It’s in our front yard, the grass is worn away and only hard packed dirt is left.  We have two basketball hoops (one homemade style by Uncle Dennis) set up as a mini court.  The boys and Josh have played there for many years—many, MANY games.  As soon as the weather is warm enough, it’s like a ritual that they play a game of hoops when Dad comes home from work before coming in for dinner.  Many nights I’ve yelled out the door for the game to be over with because supper is ready. 

Now my boys are playing on an actual team.  They both enjoy it.  They’ve both learned a lot.  And I secretly think Josh may be a coach next year.  (He yells enough from the stands to be one )

For Eli, basketball is like second nature.  It comes easy for him.  He’s good.  He plays the whole game usually. 

Shootin’ free throws!

Eli plays on the 5-6th grade team and last week was asked to play on the 7-8th grade team also (Isaac’s team).

 

Isaac has to work a bit harder, but he’s still good and he’s come a long way since starting in November.  I’m proud of him.  This is his first team sport and he’s doing great!

 

Basketball season….something I’ve come to like….very much

Worth It All

I’d rather hear you all trying to speak to me at once,
Than to hear absolute silence.

I’d rather find a stuffed doggy “drinking” milky water out of a cereal bowl,
Than to never feel that warming in my heart when I see your special stuffed friend.

I’d rather stay up all night comforting your fears, or easing your sicknesses,
Than to sleep all night and wake up to an empty house.

I’d rather be distracted from something “important” a million times,
Than to get everything on my list done, and look around... seeing that I am alone.

I’d rather clean mud off of your face, arms, out of your ears, and in between your toes,
Than to be without you and have spotless clothes and floors.

I’d rather hold on tight when your sticky hand reaches for mine,
Than to never have a little hand to hold.

I’d rather you put finger prints all over the window I JUST cleaned,
than to never be able to see you watching out the window for Daddy to come home.

I’d rather trip over and stub my toe on your toys in the night,
Than to never hear your squeals and laughter as you play.

I’d rather give you every moment of my day, every bit of me,
Than to have a life full of my self.

I’d rather hurt when you hurt,
Than to never know the blessing of carrying your burdens.

I’d rather bear the criticism of the world,
Than to turn away the blessings a mighty Creator designed with His own Hand!

I’d rather lay in bed weary at night, physically and emotionally exhausted from all the things that went “wrong”,
Than to never know your big blue eyes and precocious smile.

My precious children, yes, I would rather do all that I am doing to raise you, train you, love you, than to have never known what it feels like to have you crawl into my lap, wrap your arms around my neck and whisper in my ear, “I love you mama.”

My precious ones in Heaven,
I’d rather know you were created in my womb, and have to say goodbye long before I ever imagined,
Than to have never known you, loved you at all.

You are ALL worth it ALL.

By Tina Entz

www.agentlemother.blogspot.com

Writing his name

Camden wanted to learn how  to write his name, just like his brothers.  We tried teaching him how to write his name, starting with the first letter, C, then A, but Camden didn’t move much past that.  All he took from the “lesson” was that his name is three circles in a row…..ooo.  For the past few weeks, every time he does “school” or colors a picture, paints a picture or whatever, he insists on writing his name on it, which is three circles.  In fact, he’s done it so much that I even marked his Christmas presents with the three circles because he identifies those circles with himself.

 

The other night I noticed something on his shirt as he was running through the room.  I said, “Camden, what is on your shirt?”  His response was, “Oh, I wrote my name.”

Sure enough, he did.

OOO = Camden

 

He then got a lesson on how we only write on paper.