• Family outing feeding ducks. Feeding ducks: 30 minutes. Getting out the door to feed ducks: 60 minutes.

• My babies have become a bit more difficult and simultaneously, more lovable, this week.
  

• Because of the twins new schedule, my only daily free time seemed to be returning overdue books and finally finishing this, painstakingly slow in pace. I've always got to make a little time for myself.
  

• 

• Lastly, I came to finally own my own life. After some hard days asking the Lord "How is it done, caring for these four?", He answered, not with words, but with others' actions--

Young girls coming to help while I rest, a meal, a mother doing my laundry and feeding a baby, a mother-in-law building my confidence, a husband making dinner for the 115,000th time, a friend babysitting for us to dine out, friends coming to share the burden... the list continues.


It takes a whole village to raise a child.

I've learned lately that I can do more than I ever thought possible, if I'm creative in my trials. But that only can go so far and for so long until I fall. And where I stop, you, my friends, have stepped in.

Thank you, thank you.

Just as diapers, wipes, and burp clothes are strewn across every inch of the house, so are my summer reads.

Thanks to Christina, who reintroduced me to the power of intralibrary loan, and some books as birthday gifts, I'm thrilled to sit and feed Ainsleigh to relax.

Ah, yes, the political book, that's Bobby's next to the rocker, when both of his hands aren't being used rocking the two.

I just need Annabelle to pick up on this nursing thing so we both can be happy... and I can read. Next week she'll be observed by Early Intervention. I know she's got it in her. Come on Little "A-bow" as Johanna says, catch up!

I'm figuring out my life--figuring out how to do things without help. Like bathe the babies.

Like managing the girls and little pieces to their bunny house at the kitchen table, while bathing babies.


And keeping promises to Caroline, like our previously planned table manners night, friends included.




Figuring out how to be independent, all because they aren't. Ahh... the ironies of life.

(Try to ignore the monstrous vacuum in the background.)

I remember well, some months ago, praying about how to prepare myself for doubling the amount of children under one roof.

The most inspiring answer I received can be summed up into a couple words: being creatively organized.

I've applied being creative and organized to our parental challenges, to running a household again, to getting rest, following through with commitments, and doing what I want to do in a day.

I was missing creating so much in my pregnancy and felt like my mind was spinning with ideas for me and my children. The Lord brought me to several solutions. If I could be really creative, be extremely organized, then I could have everything I want now in my life.

Taken from my journal February 2009:

"The idea of having a studio goes much deeper just having a place for my own projects--

1. I could have a place to create, with everything in arms distance, no more wasting time searching for tools.
2. If I only have 5 minutes, while kids are sleeping, playing close by, I'll take it to create. If the room is set up perfectly, I can come in and create something in that time.
3. My dream of having some sort of creative business can still be alive with four young kids, in an organized studio, especially if the studio can somehow incorporate my children.
   
4. I can include my children, possibly with their own "creative table" with their materials with in reach, to use while I create.
   
5. My children will see very well how I value creating. They can come and witness it."
   

Behold, months later, our sanctuary officially complete:


I can now celebrate the pretty notions that inspire me.

My table: permanently sits my sewing machine and cutting mat. Finally, no repositioning clutter from the dining room table to sew. The farthest left row of shelves holds everything sewing, including fabric finally out in the light after many years of dreary tupperware-dwelling.

There are rows for ribbon, print making, pastels, stamping, painting, wooden crafts, drawing, all organized my medium.

To-be finished idea board in bright pink sits on the shelf.


The girls corner, complete with the lower shelves stocked with their crayons, markers, paper, stamps--all situated based on height and age appropriateness. (In other words, no markers are available to Johanna without Mommy's supervision!)

Caroline and I thought we'd try out our studio, with a new dress for baby.

What do you dream about doing when you dream... be creative, be organized, in other words, try something different to reach your end?

I'm sitting here with Annabelle supposedly asleep on me. But I know better then that. So does Bobby, who's roaming between rooms aimlessly, wearing Ainsleigh in the sling in hopes of the same end.

Life with newborn twins; definitely a reality check this week. Bobby's back to work which leaves me to figure out how to feed two hungry babies at a time while tending to the older girls. I don't know what to think of myself. Part of the day I'm happily tickling Caroline on the floor and the other I'm emotional over nursing struggles, exhaustion, and understanding my new life.

"What are you putting off out of fear? Usually what we most fear doing is what we most need to do...it is fear of the unknown outcomes that prevents us from doing what we need to do. Define the worst case, accept it, and do it...

...What are you waiting for? If you cannot answer this without resorting to the previously rejected concept of good timing, the answer is simple: You're afraid, just like the rest of the world. Measure the cost of inaction, realize the unlikelihood and repairability of the missteps, and develop the most important habit of those who excel and enjoy doing so: action."

(Timothy Ferriss, author of a compelling book Travis suggested)

I knew from the day we found out I was carrying twins that our lives wouldn't be the same. I was right. But this new life compels me to make changes, act instead of fear, and hold myself responsible for making myself and my family's lives extraordinary, despite my initial fears. I am as strong as I choose to be.

Life right now for me-- let's just say I spend my day feeding, feeding, feeding. I feel pretty darn good with what I'm contributing to my wee ones' existence, but what about the running, jumping, little people that actually need their brains exercised?

Voila! Behold, the recycled plastic jar of endless summer enchantment.

Everyone in the family, (those talking, at least) contributed ideas to the jar to be picked from daily, or when necessary.

Highlights from the jar:

• Set up a grocery store
• Have a concert in the backyard
• Embroider
• Make a movie
• Act out Toy Story, costumes optional
• Make a sketchbook
• Build a fort
• Family drawing time
• Make up stories on the felt board
• Plan a campout in the backyard
• Write a thank you to someone
• Play doctor
• Do show makeup for a show
• Make a hacky sack
• Make art only using nature
• Play hair salon
• SWIM!
  
• Sew something
• Bake something
• Draw and label a U.S. map
• Make stationary
• Practice reading
• Make something for a friend
• Make a collage from magazine clippings
• Play leap frog
• Start a band
• Have a scavenger hunt
• Write your name
• Read in the grass
• "Paint" with water outside
• Have a tea party
• Play dress up
• Learn about a country
• Go for a walk
• Do finger paints
• Take pictures and use to tell a story
  

Needless to say, we'll be busy this summer--when we're not helping the twins put on the pounds.

Ahhhh... our first outing ever, all six of us. It was quick, complicated, but we can now say we've done it. It took more time getting everyone out of the car, big kids into strollers and miniature people into slings then the brisk walk at the outdoor Army Heritage Museum. Like Bobby said, "We won't try that again until the twins are 6 months old!"

Don't worry, he's kidding.

Little Annabelle enjoying the hot weather, snuggled close to Mommy in her sling.