six under seven

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Yes, with the addition of our precious children in Uganda, we’ll have six children under the age of seven.

When that first occurred to me, it made my brain hurt.

Now? We’re good.

you see this bench? we're going to fill it up!

All six will be in car seats or booster seats.

At least two of the six will be in diapers.

All six will be pre-readers or emergent readers, so I’m prepared for a whole lot of read alouds.

Depending on when each child is developmentally ready for kindergarten, we may have two or three kids in the same grade.

Assuming all our kiddos go to college, we’ll have kids 1, 2, 3, and 4 in at the same time. Once our oldest graduates, we’ll have 2, 3, 4, and 5 there together. After kiddo 2 dons the cap and gown, it’ll be 3, 4, 5 and 6 in school.

For those of you familiar with the layout of our church’s children’s ministry, we’ll cover the A, B, and C halls with little Dingles. (It’s a good thing Laurie and I are buds!)

Speaking of church, I’m expecting to have to wake up an hour earlier to get everyone dressed and out the door. (As is, I sleep in a bit while Lee gets up the earliest.)

We’re thankful we live five minutes from the pediatrician’s office, because we’ll be there often.

I don’t expect it to be easy peasy to foster sweetness in all the sibling relationships, but we are committed to praying for just that and doing what we can to make it happen. (Would you join us in praying?)

Some days, it will be wonderful to have kids so close in age.

Other days, it will be hard.

Six under seven. It’s gonna be fun, y’all.

i want him to be both.

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Thanks to Zulily, I have a new favorite boys' clothing company.


Nope, this isn't a sponsored post, and I purchased the shirt Robbie is sporting. (Though if you sign up for Zuliliy using the links in this post, I'll get a referral credit... but be forewarned that it's an addictive place for kids', home, and women's items.)


The brand is Warrior Poets, but at $32 a shirt, I wouldn't buy it at full price. When Zulily had a sale a week or two ago, though, I couldn't help myself. (Plus Robbie is growing at record pace right now, so his closet is slim pickings. Anyone have hand-me-downs in boys' size 5 or 6?)


What's with the "be both" on the shirt and in the title of this post? It's the company's philosophy, from their website:
History shows us many examples of The Warrior Poet. From the chivalrous knight, to the intrigue of the samurai, we are drawn to this gifted individual. The Warrior Poet is balanced, stronger than most, more thoughtful than most – part of the leadership class who guides with wisdom and courage. The Warrior Poet is a spiritual warrior who understands that he embodies the heavenly representation to the earth and the earthly representation to the heavens.

Like The Warrior Poet, at the core of every young man is the desire to save the day and love to the fullest. Pop culture says, “You’re either a lover or a fighter.” The Warrior Poet says, “BE BOTH!” At Warrior Poet Clothier, our crusade is, “Building Armor with a Flare for the Next Generation of Men.” Telling them to go farther, dream bigger, and look good doing it.

I know it's marketing which is clearly working on this mama, but still.


That's what I want for our Little Man.


I love his sensitivity.


I love his spirit.


I don't want the world  - or a skewed version of Christianity on either extreme, sissification or hyper-masculination - to tell him he can't be both sensitive and spirited.


Both warrior and poet.


Willing to hold his mama's hand, with dirt and clay under his nails. 

I don't fear the tears.

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This morning found me cradling a cold cup of coffee {maybe I'll get to drink it warm once the kids are in college?} while warm tears traversed my cheeks.

Don't worry; all is well here. Zoe is doing amazing new things, like independently drinking from a sippy cup and strutting down the hall with help from a push-behind toy and ankle braces and a rockstar physical therapist.


Jocelyn is wrapping up her kindergarten year. Robbie is learning more facts about reptiles, as if he doesn't know enough yet. Lee's work is good. Adoption fundraising is coming slowly but surely. My coffee was cold, but it was good.

So why the tears?

Because I read a passage in a book in which the author talked about pastoral visits during those unexpected late-night rushes to the ER, and my mind immediately went back to Thanksgiving. I'm pretty sure I have a touch of PTSD from that night I try not to think about, lest the tears flow anew.

I can never put words to just how thoroughly Robbie's seizure shook me to my core. He hasn't had another. We're not on any seizure meds right now, and his brain seems to have recovered from the trauma of that terrible 15 minutes in November. 

But still, I'm shaken just thinking about it.

And? I'm thankful. 

I love serving families affected by disability because they live in brokenness and, unlike many other folks I see on Sunday mornings, they daily acknowledge those broken places, often in public ways. Being shaken by Robbie's seizure brought us face to face with our broken places. 

The only response to that is the same response my kids demonstrate when something of theirs is broken: bring it to Daddy for fixing.

2012 was the hardest year of my life so far, but it was the best too, as God drew us into sweet communion with Him in the midst of brokenness, showing us the beauty that could be found there. I don't doubt that 2013 will enter the record books as well, as we travel to Africa to double our number of children. 

I am thankful to consider the pain in our past over coffee and tears, and I am encouraged knowing the God who brought us through those hurts will be faithful to bring us through whatever He ordains for us in 2013 and beyond. I don't fear the future, because He is with us and leading us. 

I don't fear the tears, either. 

Sometimes it's best to let them spill out of the broken places.