The Long Awaited Birthday Post.

Ok so a couple of weeks ago I turned thirty. THIRTY!!!????? How did that happen, and when might I ask? Because I sure don't feel thirty... Or maybe I do what's thirty suppose to feel like any way? I mean I mostly feel the same as I did when I turned twelve. I know that's weird but I remember turning twelve and it just seems like that is how I feel always (Except my mom face is way better now, I can stop a jr. higher in their tracks).

My entire year of being twenty-nine was fine. I really thought I didn't care about my age at all and really thirty was so far away but then suddenly I realized I was going to be thirty in a week and I totally freaked! I didn't want to be old, on top of which I hadn't planned any thing special. I guess I might as well tell you I'm a birthday freak. I love birthdays they are your special day. When my husband says of them "who cares it's just another day?" I don't just climb, I jump up on my soap box and wax on and on about celebrating your birth and all you've given to the world etc. I feel that on your birthday you eat what you want, go where you want, do what you want and don't change any poopy diapers at all! Presents rock, I know it may sound super artificial of me but I love presents.  I plan what I'm going to do on my day almost as soon as Christmas is over and then I don't risk testing my husband like some women do I give him a countdown starting like a month before hand.

Except this year, because somehow it snuck up on me. Then I thought I didn't care but it turned out I did care (a lot). So I cried and felt bad for myself, and wondered why I didn't plan any thing. I mean you can't let thirty just slip by can you? I said, CAN YOU????

Oh my! Well my mom and sister ended up coming up and even though they could only stay for a couple of days we worked it out to go to a really nice restaurant in Kalamazoo. Which is good because I had made myself a birthday dress, only to realize I had nowhere to wear it (one of the reasons I cried, "Am I just going to wear this stupid dress to Culvers on my thirtieth birthday?! Sniff sniff.") FYI I am really proud of the dress it's the best thing I've ever made and it actually looks good on me. Now I want to remake my Easter dress because this one is so much better.

Early in the day my dear friend and neighbor Jen brought lunch over from our favorite local bakery, Continental and a really thoughtful gift. She bought me a pattern I've had my eye on at this fancy fabric shop in town. I was so excited because it's one of those things you really want but have a hard time spending the money on and it was so thoughtful.  Also dear Beki got me gift certificate for the same shop so now I can get fabric to make the pattern! How serendipitous! Then B, mom and Heather and Meg and her boyfriend went out to a really nice dinner at a place called Rustica. It is AMAZING. I would totally recommend it. Great food really nice atmosphere. It's pricey (about $20 a plate) but worthy of a special occasion.  So I ended up having a really nice day. Did I mention Brian bought me a new lap top b/c he was trying to win our gift giving contest and last year I got him an IPAD? Yea, I lost!!

I actually enjoyed the process of making this dress and
couldn't believe how well it turned out.

The dress pattern was a splurge, Crepe from Colette Patterns
and totally worth every penny.

My mom, me and my baby sister, Heather.

 However, when I got up the next morning and was checking my face book on my new laptop. I had a message from my husband to pack my bags that he was taking me away for a couple of days!!!!! I was so happy and surprised. He took me to Lake Michigan, my favorite place in the entire world.  We stayed at a Bed and Breakfast called Sherwood.  It was the most relaxing perfect trip. We walked on the beach, rode bikes, did a little shopping and junking (where I found the cutest necklace for a really good deal) swam in their heated pool (it was pretty cold while we were there so we didn't actually swim in the lake). I really like saugatuck. I think it was nicer and the beaches were bigger then South Haven even. Oh it was lovely.

Lake Michigan is my favorite place, it restores my soul.

COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD!!!!!

This is my man gazing out over the water. Isn't he to die for?!

When we got home my dad was here so that was another awesome surprise. Then on the way to dinner at chili's we stopped at the church to pick up Brian's wallet he had forgotten but really it was a surprise party!!! Ok by now you must know how ridiculous I felt about whining and crying (though Brian LOVED that of course) earlier in the week. You must also realize that I am not very good at picking up on clues. No I'm not. At that point I was actually a bit overwhelmed by Brian's love and generosity. I was also sweaty, hot, disheveled and embarrassed. It was really fun so many of my family (including cousins) were there and tons of people from the church. It really showed me how much people love me and how blessed I am to have so many wonderful people in my life.  I got loads of great gifts and ate way too much and it was an all around great birthday party and birthday in general. I know that Beki, Mary, Jeannie and my mom helped Brian a lot with the planning and setting up and I hope they know how much it blessed my heart!

I hope Brian knows how much it means to me that he would go through all of this just for me (even though I know he was secretly having fun watching me be tortured the week before). That when I think of him I always think how blessed I am to have him as my husband. If one of your goals was to up the ante for my brothers-in-law and other husbands, you succeeded my dear.  I love you so much, but would love you even with out the parties, trips and laptops... To be clear the parties, trips, and laptops are really really nice and I liked them a lot they were totally awesome actually.  Thank you again.

So, turns out thirty is great. I'm really excited to see what turning forty is like! Ha Ha.

A Runner's Tale: A gift for my Dad.

An only partly true story for those who run. A story for those who used to run with me. A story especially for my dad who still encourages me and is still my favorite running partner.

I started running in seventh grade. I joined the track team because in seventh grade every one joined the track team, every one including my friends.  I was a chubby seventh grader who loved to read and write and sew but who did not do a lot of physical exercise.  In seventh grade I could not even finish one lap around the track. My lungs would burn and feel as though they were being sliced with knives and nails.  My coach who had also been my sixth grade teacher encouraged me to keep going, keep trying.  Even though there were students who were clearly leaps and bounds ahead of me he took that time to push me to go further and harder even though further and harder for me was one lap.  I remember the day that I ran that first quarter mile with out stopping. It was from the middle school parking lot to the credit union parking lot and I remember telling myself not to walk to keep going; one foot then another then another until I got to that bank. I remember my coach giving me a big hug and telling me how proud he was of me.  I beamed, even though it was a measly quarter mile, I beamed.

We spent the summers at my Grandma's house "down state" as we used to say. She lived on an old farm in the middle of the country. My dad who was the high school track and cross country coach was just happy to have a child that was old enough to run. He didn't care that I was TERRIBLE he cared that I had begun the journey of running (It took him 25 years to get his wife to run so I guess he thought he was making good time with me).  He figured that a lap around the perimeter of the property was roughly a quarter mile, in his words "you could definitely fit a football field in here." So that summer I ran around the "yard" first one lap, then two, then three, then four.

I continued to struggle through track seasons and I continued to run around grammy's house in the summers slowly getting thinner and slowly getting faster.  Then we moved. I was half way through my  sophomore year in high school and I did not run track that spring. However, while sitting through driver's training that summer something inside me knew I had to figure out how to meet people how to make friends. Finally, with butterflies in my stomach, I told my dad I was joining the x-country team but only if he could get me in shape enough so that I could run the 3.2 miles with out stopping. His smile almost split his face in two.

And so began my running relationship with my dad. Hot muggy day after hot muggy day he trotted along beside me pointing out interesting vegetation and telling me stories about growing up in the area, as I gasped for oxygen beside him. Slowly I worked up to running three miles. Our first meet dawned clear and cool and I stood at the starting lines ready to puke my guts up with nerves.  Then the gun shot and then nothing but sound of feet and heart pounding and ragged breath coming in.  Agonizing steps and bewildered thoughts "why did I do this?" until I heard my dad's voice ringing out through the air "Come on Jess!!! Your looking great, awesome pace babe!" I knew then that I would always be a runner because it connected me to my dad in a special way, a way unique to him and I; since my sisters hated running and I had no brothers. I did, indeed, finish that first race with out walking (I never did walk in a single 5k) but I finished last.

The races were torture but the camaraderie was a blessed relief from the half year of isolation I had just experienced. Even the girls on the opposing teams were nice, at least the ones finishing near me. They would breathlessly encourage me as they passed me by. The girls on my team? They were even better. No matter how fast they were they were so encouraging and nice.  After they finished they would run back and cheer me on as I slowly made my way to the finish line. In fact Cross-Country was the first place outside my own family that I experienced true fellowship.  And even though I was never one of dad's star athletes I knew I was his star. He faithfully cheered me on every race and kept track of my personal best times.  He worked with me in the off season as much as I wanted. He pushed me to be better but he never pushed me down. My dad did not expect things from me I couldn't deliver he was simply proud and happy that I was now a "runner". Proud with what I could do.  He was the perfect coach and he was also the perfect fan.

And so dawned the track season of my senior year. All the hard work, all the tears and miles and miles of training leading up to this meet.  I was finally being allowed to run the mile as there was an opening (there was always an opening in the two mile so that was usually where I was stuck running lap after lap after lap...).

I stood at the start line swallows flying around in my stomach.  There was always that moment right before the gun goes off that every thing would go quiet, at least for me. When all I could hear was my own breathing, my own heart thumping right out of my chest.  "Runners take your marks, get set..." bang.  And we were off, a cloud of feet thundering their way towards the first curve, the crowd one big loud gelatinous sound.

"First lap" I thought to myself "sets the tone for the entire race.  Not too fast but a good steady pace with a large gate." I tried not to see the runners around me, tried not to focus on the people passing me or the ones I was passing as we began to thin out and find our own rhythm.  "Rhythm that's a funny word" which for some reason made me think of the song from church that went "I bring a sacrifice of praise into the house of the Lord..." that song has a pretty good rhythm and it carried me swiftly around the first lap.

"Second lap" I blanked. How was I suppose to run the second lap? That's when one voice began to separate from the roar of the crowd. It was my dad. "Keep it up jess!!! Great first lap!!! Keep swinging those arms, don't tighten up your stride your doing great just keep it up!!!!!" he sounded more excited then normal. In my haze I lowered my arms and started "We bring a sacrifice..." one more time.  I focused on the girl in front of me and slowly began creeping up on her.  I felt a little bad when I passed her, but only a little.

"Third lap" the third lap is the hardest because you still have one more lap to go. And by now all your muscles are burning and your lungs are gasping.  The only thing to do in the third lap is concentrate on your form, or at least thats what my dad told me. So, I lower my arms (they've been creeping up and I'm almost hugging myself). I think about my stride and try to keep it long try to keep it looking good.  I start concentrating on the next runner; I can tell she's struggling and I feel a little bit like a lion picking off a weak herd member as I pass her by.

"Fourth lap." this it, this is where you leave it all on the line. I've been observing the 1600 meter race for six years now and I've seen people kick it in too much and too fast and burn out before they're done and I've seen people never kick it in (I've also seen people walk off with out finishing, twist they're ankles and one time I saw some one throw up on the finish line.)  So I begin to lengthen my stride. I imagine that my arms are pulling me up the side of a mountain.  I come around the first bend and begin to kick it in a little. I hear my dad screaming his head off. I really can't make out what he's saying it's getting pretty loud, "someone must be finishing the race." I think absently but I know what he's saying; speed it up. So I speed it up. As I come around the back stretch I pretend I'm being chased by a dragon. The last curve and I stop thinking all together and I just start booking it as fast as I can. Faster, faster, faster. I'm running on jell-o legs now and I'm not sure I'm breathing. Faster, faster, faster.

The roar is so loud it almost startles me and then I see it, far out in front like a mirage on a desert quest, the finish line. But not just the finish line, the finish ribbon.  It hasn't been broken yet, no one has crossed the line. And it occurred to me that I might be in the lead. I don't dare entertain the thought lest I loose my stride, I don't dare look to the side or behind, but I give it the last bit I've got just in case there's someone there right on my tail waiting for me to flag.  And I push it and as the line draws near I stick out my chest like I've seen the olympic athletes do, (just in case it's a photo finish and I win because I've got a bigger cup size).  I fall over the line and can barely keep my feet and want to scream and jump (and puke) I can feel the blood pounding through my face. As I start to fall I'm in the air, being swung around by the greatest coach in the world, by the greatest dad in the world and he's whooping and hollering like I've never seen and he's crying too. Then I cry because I'm happy, because I've made him so proud, because he would have loved me the same even if I'd come in last.

A Storm.

Well we survived the tornadoes of 2011 here in Battle Creek. It was a little scary since I was home alone with the children, and it definitely was a shock to come upstairs and find a tree on my neighbors house. I honestly wasn't expecting it... I always feel like the weather people promise a big storm but you know it's not usually that bad... It was bad.  I live in a neighborhood that got hit pretty hard but we're all ok. Driving around the next day was sort of creepy in that post-apocalypse trees every where, streets shut off, and no working street lights sort of way.  It was certainly inconvenient and a little hot but we survived.

This was one of the crews sent to work.

These guys are actually from the Navy.

I actually saw God work a lot of cool things out through this, not saying he caused it just that he was present in all the aftermath.  First of all I was told by a nurse who works for the county that we didn't have a single fatality or serious injury.  That seemed really incredible to me especially since there were apartments that got totally destroyed. God was protecting all of us for sure.

Secondly the neighborhood pulled together in a way you rarely see. My drive way was full of branches and downed power lines and I wasn't even sure how B was going to get home at two that morning.  Without even asking one neighbor came over to sit with my children while another group began clearing out my drive. And it was like that up and down the street. Every one just pitching in and doing what they could for every one else. Then because we didn't have power all week we got to know each other better and better... I mean what else were we going to do? There was no way to watch our reruns or surf the web so we hung out out side and watched the crews remove trees and lines while sitting in each other yards. There was even a group of Christians passing out breakfast to people after our milk had all gone bad!

Which brings me the third thing, no internet, phones, or television. Don't get me wrong I'm really glad to have them back but I had been feeling for a long time that the children and I were just way too plugged in. The only options they had available to them was to play and then play some more. The only options I had were to clean then go to bed early because I'd had enough cleaning.

There was also the fact that I finally cleaned out my fridge and freezer (um it was really gross, I should have gotten a ticket for how gross it was. Plus I threw away five jars of salsa?!). We all slept in the basement together so it was sort of like a fun summer party for the kids. And I didn't have to cook dinner all week!!!!!

Honestly though, I'm talking to people more then ever. We all lived and survived the storm of 2011. We share our war stories about it and laugh with each other over the funny parts, groan over the annoying parts, and thank the Lord we're all safe.   I get a tear in my eye remembering how I felt staring at my neighbors house and wondering if they were safe, wondering what to do. I knew they were probably in the basement but with Joplin so fresh in our minds I was really shook up. Just as I was putting on my shoes to somehow get into their house I saw her walk out, I saw every one start walking out and it was such a relief such an amazing thing to realize how blessed I am living here with these people that I care so much for. She got a hug which, I think, surprised her but it just felt right. A couple other neighbors got hugs too, and if I could physically wrap my arms around God he'd get the biggest hug of all for keeping us safe and together.

I Must Confess.

Because I am an oldest child it is in my nature to confess my short comings.

I have been such an all around lazy person I think some one should fire me.  I have not blogged and have done even less writing on my novel in weeks.  That book is not going to write itself and that lake home is not going to get bought with out said book (or a secret inheritance from a wealthy stranger I once impressed; but I'm not holding my breath over that one). I have not even down loaded the pictures of my Easter dress or the dresses of my neighbors to blog about.

I have been slowly working on a new skirt. Sew a seam stop change a diaper.  Sew a seam stop clear the table for lunch etc. But even that was halted by the disappearance of my buttonholer because of course I can't move on until I make two tiny button holes. And how much time did I waste looking for that stupid attachment anyway?

I've pretty much given up cooking real suppers for the rest of the summer. Yesterday my children had yogurt for dinner and last week I'm fairly certain they had cereal at least twice. It's just not in me to heat up the kitchen when it's warm out. And I'm pretty sure we're having french toast for dinner; maybe I'll cut up some strawberries to go with it but I'm not making any promises. I'm not really into folding clothes right now either.

Then of course last week we all had some gross stomach virus which I followed up by immediately catching a cold. If I could get rid of my children and spend the next three days in bed watching old episodes of SeaQuest DSV and eating toast, I'm pretty sure I would.

I promise I will try to get to blogging about all of my great sewing ventures soon, it's just so far to the camera and then I have to find the plug thing to hook the camera into the computer...

So to sum up I am lazy, a little crabby, stuffy and would like to be fired.

My Big Big Loud American Family Part Three.

Aunts and Uncles.

I've already discussed my Aunts briefly here but in keeping with the family reunion I wanted to go into a bit more personal detail.

People are always confusing my mom and Aunt Dawn.

Aunt Dawn and Uncle Alan. If your keeping track Aunt Dawn is cousin Jennifer's mom.  She is so sweet and kind. She's also quite crafty and if it weren't for her there would be (by my mother's own admission) no photos of me or my sisters growing up. She was a photo taker and scrap book leader before those things were a multi-billion dollar industry like they are now. When we were young spending the night at Aunt Dawns house was so much fun because she let you stay up as long as you wanted and pretty much eat what you wanted to. Couple that with the fact that she was within walking distance to a drug store where we could buy penny candy and I'm not sure how she could stand all of it.  As far as uncle Alan goes for some reason I have this really vivid memory of him letting all of us (that's a lot) take turns having "horse back" rides on him during a birthday party which may explain some of his current back problems. Sorry uncle Alan!

That is Jill Uncle David's Dog she thinks she is his wife.

David.  Uncle David was always the coolest uncle because he was not married and had no children. Which meant that he would breeze into town from large and exotic distant cities like Milwaukee and whip us all into a wild hyper frenzy while our parents looked on helplessly. In those days we called him "uncle Dave-do"... I'm not sure why if any one knows they could let me know in the comments.  Now days he owns Stoney Creek Farm where my parents and sister live and work. He is so giving that whatever cousin seems down on their luck or is looking for a new lease on life he takes them in and gives them a bit of work. He's also extremely musical (as are most of them) and plays the piano so beautifully, one of the best things in life (though so rare now days) is to listen to him and mom sing duets while he plays.

Wouldn't he look at home on a ranch?

Dan and Bonnie (Spencer and Kendra's dad and mom) he is so quiet that when I was young I didn't really know what to think about him. He and his wife live in the country, hunt, used to have horses, I think they still have chickens.  Their kids were always in 4-H. They seemed so mystical to me growing up like something out of Little House on the Prairie. As I grew I began to see how funny he is. It truly is the quiet ones you have to watch out for.  Uncle Dan is also extremely artistic and once engraved a skeleton  key with the words "Key to my heart" for me to give to Brian on our first valentine's together.

Aunt Debbie is the oldest daughter just like me.

Debbie and Carl (KatieBeth and Kenton's mom and dad). Uncle Carl has a deep loud booming voice and is probably the most friendly outgoing person I've ever met.  He's the one who made me my horse stable along with a pair of adirondack chairs, my living room shelves and a shelf under the windows in my kitchen (he's a very talented wood worker).  When I was little he used to chase us around saying "I'm the kissing monster" while making loud wet kissing sounds... this freaked me out a lot.  Aunt Debbie is amazing. We have a lot in common and spend a good deal of time when we're together going "Oh my gosh me too!" for example, "I hate it when they mix the spaghetti sauce and the noodles together." "Oh my gosh me too!" Aunt Debbie's love of scripture and her desire to study it deeply is a continued source of motivation and encouragement to me. I, too, feel closest to God when I'm learning from His word.  She  used to take me shopping for a back to school outfit when things were tight for my parents and still makes time for me today. She has stepped in and filled a void left when my mom moved by taking me to lunch and spending endless hours talking about God, the Church, and my mother-in-law.  She also gave me the gentle push and help I needed to move from the post-baby frumpy clothing stage (she is always well dressed).

A very beautiful family. Uncle Doug was once mistaken
for a television star while on an airplane.

Doug and Meg. Had kids the latest on my mom's side which makes my Aunt Meg the coolest of the Aunts (sorry every one else it's just a fact of life, Heather will always be cooler then me). They lived in the big city and would have us over for the weekend.  Uncle Doug is one of those genius self starter types. He retired in his thirties and then started a Sport's ministry in Detroit Michigan. He is now a pastor as well which means there are things about their life that ring true for Brian and I as well. All of mom's siblings are funny and Uncle Doug is no exception. Aunt Meg is the kind of person you wish you could be; well dressed, a good hostess, and charming.  When I was a little girl she sent me a card (not my sisters just me) it had a scientific illustration of a shell on the cover and I remember just being so blown away by the picture it seemed magical and made me feel so special that she would take the time to send me my very own mail.

I had a very hard time finding a pic of Aunt Linda (she's the one on the farthest left)

Aunt Linda. Dad's sister is the nicest most kind person I have ever known. She is such a long-suffering servant heart that you know when God looks at her he is pleased. We lived in the same town as her and she had kids way after us as well so she also treated us awesome. She would have me and Courtney over to spend the night and get out this fancy porcelain tea set and have tea (sugar water) with us. She let us use her make up and would read to us out of Beatrix Potter.  Aunt Linda made Courtney and I feel important and special after Heather was born, that was a true gift.  When dad talks about Aunt Linda he lights up and he's also told me that I have her smile which makes me feel like I'm part of that "light up" too.

Aunt Margaret and my dad. Oh I forgot to say her husband is really quiet and funny too.
What is it about the quiet ones?

Aunt Margaret is Dad's oldest sister. Oldest of six kids with parents that were absent as much as they weren't. That is a lot of responsibility. She loves Jesus and she loves education.  She is a very intelligent and caring person.  She's suffered through a lot of heart ache in her life including the loss of her husband in an accident when her children were young.  To handle all of that with such strength is an inspiring thing to behold.

My dad is the one with his tongue sticking out. My dad's tongue
is sticking out in almost all photos of him.

Uncle Larry is Dad's only brother. He is a retired missionary and spent most of my life in far and distant lands with his wife and children.  Until this wedding I hadn't seen him since I was married and only a few times before that so getting to know him over this week at the farm was really cool.  He is a very amazing person full of so much information and interesting stories it's crazy. He also has a really fun accent and is taller then my dad.  It was a real blessing getting to see my dad with him; you could see in his face how much Larry meant to him, and thinking back I've never heard dad tell any story about him that wasn't a warm good memory (I think Larry used to have a rat as a pet!).

So that is my aunts and uncles that were at the farm.  Can you keep it straight? ?ould you pass a test if I gave you one?  They are all amazing and special. The role they've played in my life is diverse and goes back (gulp) thirty years.  Thank you God for blessing me with so many loved ones with so many people who love me.

Me a Pregnant Woman and My Lawnmower.

My life is vastly different then I imagined it would be when I was eighteen. I am not playing my trumpet in the San Francisco Symphony, I am not a Forensic psychologist, or a published author (yet). That being said my life is way better then I ever dreamed it could be.

God has blessed me with a family I love, a job I love (that of the at-home-mother and unofficial associate youth pastor), and friends I adore. Those who know me know how much I love the idea of the 1940's and 50's.  The seeming simplicity of the times wrapped up in aprons. All the mom's being home to come over and enjoy coffee with each other during the day while their husbands were off at work. While I don't bake in heels and pearls I have been given the best gift of all, relationships with other Christian women.  Three weeks ago I was sitting in my living room, while a total of five children ran around, sipping coffee with two of my closest friends during the day while our husbands were at work.  We were chatting about everything and nothing and I just felt this joy wash over my heart in a way that surprised me.  A feeling that this is what life is about; these small moments and these cherished friendships.

Today one of those women (who is now pregnant) came over with her daughter to visit and enjoy the glorious sunshine.  I had a million things to get done, including mowing the lawn and running to the post office to mail a birthday care package, while watching four children (one of whom is a baby) with no car.  I was feeling overwhelmed and the familiar tightening of my chest was beginning when she stopped by.

"Hey this could work out" she said sweetly "I need to go down town and drop off a donation I'll stop at the post office for you if you don't mind watching my daughter.  It would be so much easier then loading her in and out of her car seat."

My heart began to ease a bit.  Not having to actually go to the post office? Not actually having to load all these kids into the non-existent car? It was well worth the trade.  Then she continued,

"Why don't you go ahead and mow. I'll watch the kids and make sure the baby doesn't get in the way or eat too much grass."

Hallelujah! So I got out the mower, primed the engine and began to try to start the beast.  I began sweating bullets as I pulled and grumbled and pulled some more. I always struggle with the mower it's old and cranky and you have to hold down the handle while pulling, which means I can't use both hands and arms to get it started. Half the time I can't start it at all and the mowing has to wait for my husband to come home and use his manly arm muscles.  My dear friend walked over her baby bump leading the way and held onto the handles while I pulled the pull string.  It still took several minutes and a few tries but together we got it started, and together we got my lawn mowed, our children fed, errands ran and package mailed with out any one loosing their temper and with the children in relative safety.

This is what the body of Christ is about.  Not some metaphysical ideal, but day to day living.  And living it with a team that loves the same Lord you do makes it so much better, so much easier! My friends and I don't all agree on every detail of doctrine, politics, or child rearing.  We are at different places in our walk with Jesus but we love each other and we love God.  We're there in the good times and bad and in the stressful-to-much-to-do times.  If it takes two of us just to start a mower then it's going to take all of us together to make an impact in this world.  It's too big a job to by ourselves, thank God he gave us people to stand by our side.

This post is in participation with the Rally To Restore Unity.

My Big Big Loud American Family Part Two.

The Cousins.

I have thirteen first cousins on my mom's side and almost that many on my dad's side. Today I will be discussing only the cousins that were at Stoney creek because that is who I have pics of and what I'm wanting. I mean I'm wanting you all to feel like you were in there in the midst of the crazy love that is the Kempton family (for the most part there were quite a lot of awesome Lawheads and some others mixed in too. If your there you get sucked in and become one of us, like a good not scary version of the Borg, or the Blob or a fruit salad of people... you get the picture.)

Ok now I want you to imagine some kind of Charlie's Angles/ The A-team music in your head and when you see a picture of one of my cousins imagine that voice that like tell's you who they are and why they're a valuable member of the spy team. I would even try to include music and fancy graphics but I have no idea how to do that and my husband is at work.

Casey: My youngest girl cousin who was so little at my wedding she pranced around in my veil. Her dad used to tell her stories about me entitled "Princess golden hair". She is brilliant and beautiful and as a Jr. in High school runs a bakery out of her house!!!! She makes me feel old and a little lazy.

Jennifer: Jen does not make me feel old because she is exactly four months older then me. She has three wonderful sweet children who are really nice to Super H. We grew up together, spent the night at each other's houses, and went swimming every day in the summer.  We drifted apart after I moved to the U.P. but now her and her husband are super Christians devoted to their church and we have more in common then ever. Being with Jen made me feel like a young girl again and that is a great feeling.

Kendra and Spencer: Obviously brother and sister I mean look at that hair. I'm one of the older cousins and getting to know these two as adults was amazing. Spencer is so quiet that his sense of humor really sneaks up on you and Kendra is so sweet and her hair is so to-die-for that you feel like your experiencing disney royalty come to life when you hang out with them.

Josh: Oh man, this is Jen's younger brother and he used to be such a pain in our necks! Now look at him he like is wearing a uniform and is all tough... except when he requested a song so he could dance with his mom then he was all sweet and teary eyed. Who doesn't love the tough guy with a smooshy poet inside?

KatieBeth: I know Katie and her brother probably better then any of the other cousins because my mom watched them five days a week while we were little, so she's sort of like a sister.  Plus when I was in high school I spent a summer as their nanny making them cinnamon toast and reading them stories. Now she's all grown up with her own house, and super amazing ministry to women coming out of prison and is such a talented photographer (she does my kids photos and they're amazing).  Also KatieB. knows how to boogie.

Kenton: Oh my, where do I even begin? He is KatieB's brother and is Heather's age and went from being the tiniest little thing with a deep man voice to a super tall handsome thing with a deep man voice. He is loving, sensitive, intelligent and loves my kids.  Well he loves all kids. Is there anything more wonderful then a full grown man who will wrestle with your four year old super hero for hours? If there is I don't know what it is. I now semi-intentionally dress Super H like Kenton use to dress because he was the cutest thing ever.

Robert and Jacob: Apparently the only photos they managed to not escape from was the family photo. Yes they are the most beautiful family ever but try to just focus on the boys for now. Robert aka Robby grew up so fast I almost had an stroke! Seriously he was always this cute blond kid who was such a good big brother you would think "If I have kids I hope they love their siblings this much". Now he's a grown up!! He is so kind and gentle and funny.  On top of that he is about to leave on some kind of crazy missionary thing that involves countries I can't talk about and a new cutting edge type of ministry.  How AMAZING!!!!

Jacob is still in high school but since I've seen him last he's grown three feet and his voice has dropped and in keeping with all younger brothers he is really funny, I mean mom-pees-her-pants-laughing-so-hard funny.  I'm not sure what the future has in store for him but I'm guessing it's along the lines of being really successful. 

So that's it, the cousins that I re-connected with at mom's vow thing. And let me just say it was wonderfully strange. Strange because I was in the older tier of cousins and now all these younger ones are grown. Strange because it makes me feel old, really old. But wonderful because they've turned into people I really enjoy being around. So unique and individual but all blindingly wonderful. They are part of my childhood in a way no one except my sisters are. We ran around got dirty stayed up late and tortured our parents together. I baby sat some of them and even snuggled some of them as babies.  Now they're big, grown, have children of their own.  It's so cool to see all these lives connected to mine.  At one point the Big House was alive with so much noise and laughter I just stepped back and took it all in. I just want to remember what that warmth was like in that one moment.  I also found that I was able to be really silly with them in a way that I can't with anybody else except Courtney, Heather and Megan. So maybe when you've known someone your entire life and they've known you it's just more natural; being who you are.  That's why I love them and why I love that Grammy and Papa had six kids. Growing up with that many cousins really is the best way to grow up (which means my sisters better start pumping out lots more babies pronto.)