Christmas Card

Here we are at the end of 2019. Last night we drove around and looked at Christmas lights, an obligatory tradition that we've grown to love. And I kid you not as we sat crammed in the front seat, windows fogging over and music playing, my eyes began to fill with the most grateful tears-- that these are my people, and that this is the life I have been given. We are not perfect, things are not perfect, and this world is far from perfect, but we get glimpses of heaven that remind us always we have a Savior calling us home, and He likes to give us good gifts.

A few brief updates for you in this now very annual Christmas-letter-on-the-blog thing that I do:

Blythe is now 7 and in second grade. Every year we kind of hold our breath, expecting the ball to drop with this one because she's just made things too easy for us, truth be told. And 2019 was not the year the ball dropped. She's still such a fun, joyful, quirky, creative, kind, helpful little human being. She devours books and started taking piano. She hears and feels music in ways I have never been able to. We went to my mom's Christmas cantata and she sat enraptured listening to the community choir. On the way home, eyes wide with wonder, she said, "Mom! They were all singing the same song but everyone was singing it differently...together. It was so beautiful." She has an incredibly large sweet tooth, finally lost two of her actual teeth, and simply adores all her siblings. She and Becks started sleeping tangled up in a twin bed together because they just love being together, and that is in large part because Blythe has always been so patient and gracious with Becks. About a month ago she told us that she had asked Jesus into her heart, because she was a sinner, and then proceeded to tell us that she wants to get baptized. We took her out for a little dinner, just the three of us, to let her know how proud we are of this decision, and what this means for her moving forward. She will get baptized just after the first of the year. Would you all pray for her in this new life in Christ she has found?

Becks is 5. She started kindergarten, and her teacher told me she knew she was shy. but she did not know she was THAT shy. She's slowly come out of her shell a bit, though, and she's doing well. She has lots of friends and is participating more and more. PE is her favorite. She got to start tball this summer and loved it [she was a helmet with legs, let's be honest! ha!]. She has such a robust imagination and, while she is quiet at school, she is ALL BUT quiet when she is home. She is a ball of energy and emotions--she feels things with her whole body and this tends to explode out of her in rapturous, loud crazy happiness or ferocious, shrieking anger. We never have to wonder what she is thinking, that's for sure. She is profoundly compassionate, and generally wields this as a tool to construct and not a weapon to destroy... generally. ;) When Blythe told us she had prayed and asked Jesus into her heart,  Becks piped up and said, "Mom, I've prayed, like, hundreds of times." She never wants to be left out. Also, I must note: this girl LOVES to be barefoot in the mud of a creek bed.  This fall I wrote about how I just feel an incredible connection with this little lady, as she and I have been through the trenches together. Having survived her toddler years together, I now really really really enjoy my time with this sweet little lady and miss her while she's at school. .

Nan is 3. She is full. Full of life, full of noise, full of questions, full of impatience, full of snacks, full of jokes, full of needs, full of frustrations, full of movement, full full full. She wears me out in ways the others have not. At the end of a full day with Nan Louise, I am simply and utterly exhausted. I told Brent the other day that if I didn't know I had been the one to be with her every day, I would have thought she was raised by a pack of wild animals-- our very own Mogley. ;)  She is not manipulative or largely disobedient or defiant, she is just....full. She loves to draw, go on nature days, do a little preschool with me here and there, and enjoys being read to. She's currently sitting next to me while I type this and her questions and constant talking are so loud and insistent that I honestly have no idea what this paragraph says. She is a most persistent child. She also feels things deeply.  [Can you sense a theme in our largely-female-dominated home?] She has a hard time watching shows, or being read to with much inflection, as she intuits danger or a character's fear or worry. She got glasses in the spring for astigmatism, and they are just the perfect addition to her little face, though she still runs into walls not due to her eyesight but due to her lack of focus and forethought ;). She has formed a fast friendship with one of our retired neighbors and loves her play dates with her. She misses her sisters during the day now, but is forming a neat little relationship with Sloan. She has asked me approximately 4,928 times if she can type the 1 for how old Sloan is, so we're going to move on to his paragraph, as you all pray for my patience in the year ahead with Nan ;)

Sloan is 1i ["Nan that is the letter i," I said. "But it's okay. We will leave it," she said.] This guy. He is all slobber and deep grunts and giggles and he runs everywhere. He doesn't climb much, thankfully, but he has mastered our stairs. He is so much more physical than the girls ever were at this age, and is still a man of few words. Just today I received my first kiss from him. He's so busy and so NOT snuggly, that I have begged and bribed and smothered him in a million kisses trying to get one in return. But to no avail. Until today. So maybe the tide is turning on his affections ;). He is an utter joy. We're having a hard time disciplining him at the supper table when he throws food or puts his foot up on the table, because as soon as we say anything the girls all start laughing at him. To say he is adored around here is an understatement. He eats more than the others at most meals. He looooooovvvveeesssss to be outside, to throw balls, and to snack all the live long day. He loves cars and books with the little hidden flap things. At the beginning of this year, Sloan had no teeth and wasn't even crawling. It's amazing how quickly they change at this age. We have entered full-on toddler-dom, and I couldn't be happier about.

Brent is still a compliance officer with a local bank, starting year number ten with them! He is deeply invested in men's discipleship ministries, and just men in general, at our church and it has been exciting to see his passion for that. He competed in several triathlons this spring-fall, two being Olympic size. He would love to complete a half-ironman triathlon in 2020. He  is always so generous towards the rest of us in the family with his time, and training time for these long triathlons is no joke!  I'm always amazed that he trains almost entirely before the rest of us are out of bed in the morning [which means he has until 7:30/7:45... the rest of us like to sleep ;)]. He's still just one of the best, most steady, gracious humans I know, and I feel so lucky I get to do all this by his side.

And me? Well, I'm still here. Still predominately spending my days at home with the kids. Packing lunches, applying bandaids, crafting, changing poopy pants, washing clothes, drying clothes, folding clothes, finding socks in ALL the places, and ultimately knowing that all of this small seemingly menial day to day is reaping a harvest of faithfulness if I am just willing to die to myself and keep loving and serving in the ordinary. It's a gift. An exhausting, sometimes mind-numbing, always humbling gift to get to be with these little people and create a safe, welcome place for everyone to call home. I don't know that I've always seen it as holy work, but I do now. I also still love to create things and do photography. I was asked to speak at a few different women's events in the area this year and that was a joy as well. I hope to write a little more in 2020, but please see the above paragraphs regarding the last two children. We will see ;).

2019 started out a little darker than usual for us. We were two months in to our new home, living in a mess of construction and piles of things with no place to go. We were exhausted from late nights of working on project after project, and the needs of our kids didn't stop just so we could get things done. We had several mishaps, water in the newly finished basement, etc. etc. We were weary, to say the least.  But like I said in the last paragraph, it was about the end goal that we kept on moving. During that time I would think back to my senior year of college when I had a little notecard taped on my desk with this simple prayer: "Lord, help me make my home a restful, safe, inviting place for Brent to come home to." I was engaged and preparing to be a wife, and I wanted to pray over the home we would be sharing soon. And now, twelve years later, that notecard is long gone, but that's still a prayer of mine. And so we would put on our work clothes when all we wanted to do was lay on the couch. We worked, not towards a fancy house with all the latest, but towards a restful, safe, inviting place for all six of us to come home and to invite others. And here at the end of 2019? We are feeling those things more-- restful. Safe. At home.

And this year for Christmas, I want to watch the amazement in Sloan's little eyes as he discovers the beauty and magic of Christmas around him. I want to watch "It's A Wonderful Life" again and again, and drink eggnog until I'm sick to my stomach. I want to snuggle with my husband and be thankful for Christmas number 16 that I get to spend with him. I want to read the Christmas story and feel the words: and she will call him Emmanuel, God WITH US. I want to watch my kids do the actions to "Away in the Manger" over and over and kiss them all under the mistletoe. I want to build another fort and snowman in our front yard then run inside and drink raspberry hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and tuck my toes under Brent's for warmth. I want to tuck our kids in bed and sing to them the song I still have memorized from a children's program at church when I was their age: Christmas isn't Christmas 'til it happens in your heart. Somewhere deep inside you is where Christmas really starts. So give your heart to Jesus, you'll discover when you do, that it's Christmas, really Christmas, for you. I want to eat homemade toffee and caramels and look at all the Christmas lights around town. I want to lounge around with family and not worry about the time. I want to sing over a lit candle on Christmas Eve as I think about the Light that has stepped into darkness.

And I want you all to have a beautiful Christmas, full of laughter and hugs and blessings. Full of joy, love, and peace.

Enjoy Christ's birth.
I know it's been said many times many way....

Merry Christmas to you!

Kelsey, Brent, Blythe, Becks, Nan, and Sloan

ONE: Sloan Lee

Sloan Lee,

You, little man, are one whole entire year old. One year of your grunty laughs, your pudgy hands pawing at everything, your drool everywhere, and your heart-melting smile. One year since they laid you on my chest, we all checked to see if you were really a boy, and I couldn't believe the weight of you. To get to the first birthday always seems like a mind trick to me: on the one hand, it happens in a flash. And yet, on the other hand, it seems to take a very long time to get here. The first year is not an easy one, and yet I can honestly say with you it was the easiest first year we've experienced in this family. Moving into a new house and doing a major renovation was, without a doubt, one of the most stressful things we have ever done. You were only two months old when this happened, and yet you were a light and a joy in the midst of the chaos. 

Sloan, I think you were the first child I was not just a little bit scared to have. With Blythe I was excited, but it was all so fresh and new and I just didn't know what being a mother meant or what any of it really entailed. With Becks I was nervous about adding to our family-- what would caring for TWO children look like? Could I handle it? My transition to one was so hard, would two break me? And then with Nan I felt like we were really entering the danger zone and possibly biting off more than we could chew. Jumping from two to three was challenging. And then I lost a baby, Sloan. My fourth baby was never born alive on this earth, and so I think by the time I knew of your existence inside of me my heart had been refined by fire. I had learned the opposite of faith isn't unbelief, but it is fear. And so I open my hands and decided to welcome you without fear; to welcome you with a heart full of faith in our very big God who can turn ashes into beauty. And transitioning to a family of six was the easiest transition yet. 

Blythe wanted to add the little dinosaur for one picture:) 

 I think a few things factored into this year for us. First, my faith had grown and I knew God was kind and gracious enough to fill in all of my gaps as a mother. I knew you were fine in His hands, and so mine felt much lighter. Another factor was that I was 32 and no longer 25, like I was when I first became a mom. I was out of my internship years. Which I think, when you're a parent, simply means that you move up only because you've learned you don't know very much and you're in control of very little. You would think this would stress you out more as a parent, but in a weird way it just completely relaxes you and mellows you out. And the final factor, of course, was you. From the get go you were just a pretty awesome guy. Sure, you can be loud, you cry, you poop your pants, etc. But your soul seems steady.

 You don't cuddle and show affection, and yet we can tell you're head over heels for us. Some of your favorite things include eating, eating, and eating. ;) But you also enjoy being outside, your sisters [when they aren't man-handling you], wrestling with your dad, and taking baths. You're favorite word [and probably person] is "Dada! Dada! Dada!" You will eat anything we put in front of you. One thing that was different with you this year than with your sisters was that I didn't nurse you. You were bottle fed from month two on, and you were a champ at it. It was the absolute best decision for us, and I'm so glad we did it. Around ten months I switched you to a sippy cup and whole milk, and within a week you had totally transitioned just fine. You've always taken great naps, and you are ready for bed by seven o'clock. You're still primarily crawling because you are a speed-demon at it, but for the past month you've been taking lots and lots of steps. You'll walk clear across the living room, so I think a full transition to walking is coming up soon. I'm a little sad about it, only because you do the cutest thing when you crawl: you ball your right fist up like an ape and crawl on your knuckles. Just trust me, it's the cutest, and I'll probably make you reenact it when you're 16.

Sloan Lee, we prayed for you from the moment we knew it was you. We prayed you would be filled with courage, and that you would have a gentleness from the Spirit that permeates your life. We prayed that you would have wisdom, knowing the right next thing even in the hard times. And we prayed that you would remain steadfast, committed and devoted to your God and to your future family and friends, the kind of steadfast love that resounds with The Most Steady Love anyone could ever know. And we've continued to pray these traits for you over the past year, and we will continue to as you grow.

One funny thing this year to watch has just been your sheer size. You were our biggest baby by well OVER a pound, and you didn't slow down! Everyone always guesses you are months beyond your actual age. None of your sisters weighed even twenty pounds when they turned a year, and you are pushing thirty. We love it. You're very tall, and very piiiiiinnnnnchable, as your dad would say. You also hold onto us when we are carrying you-- your grip our arm, clench your legs, and you're just very sturdy. We feel like we could let go and you would still be holding us! It's one of your dad's favorite things about you right now, and something he says he wants to always remember is your grip on his arm like that.

This is our last first birthday to celebrate. And I want to celebrate and enjoy these last firsts with you, and not miss them because I'm already lost in the nostalgia of it all. I can't wait for this year of firsts with you, even if they are our last ones!

Sloan, we just love you to pieces. Your auburn hair and your deep brown eyes and lashes have us hooked. It's always funny how quickly a completely new human can just become the norm, but it was almost instant with you buddy-- as soon as we brought you home, it was as if we couldn't remember life before you. Thank you for filling this year with your peels of joy, your raspy and grunty voice, and cheerio trails everywhere. Thank you for teaching me more about the Father's great love for us all. On first birthdays I always have to wonder: what will this little life become? And while I don't know what you will do with your life, I know if you stay as you are now, you will love others fiercely along the way...and I know others won't be able to help but loving you as well. I pray you lead well and love well, and always point beyond yourself to the Gospel.

And you will find out, I end all birthday letters the same, sweet Sloan: we hope you understand the why behind our no-s. We hope you feel safe in the boundaries we set. We hope you feel freedom in the wide open places we leave for you. We hope you see God in our actions and in our words. We hope when you leave our little home for good and go our on your own that you'll look back on this simple little life we had together-- chaos and mistakes and messes and all-- and see that it was Grace that held us together; that you see that it was God's daily bread that provided it all.

We love you, Sloan Lee. There is nothing you could ever do that would keep us from loving you.

Sloan's birth story

Story behind the name: SLOAN LEE

First letter I wrote Sloan, at 20 weeks

Hopes and dreams and another letter

All of the girls wore the same outfit for their one year pictures. I knew I wanted to somehow include a piece of it, someway, in Sloan's. So I asked Brent's mom, Joan, if she thought she could make a bow tie for him out of the skirt. And boy did she deliver! I love that it was a part of all of these memories for us: 

Blythe at one year

Becks at one year

Nan at one year

FIVE

Becks Lynae,

I remember calling my sister several years ago when her oldest daughter, your cousin Caroline, was turning five. She said she had cried. I mean, sure, it was hard to believe Caroline was turning five, but tears? I thought they were maybe a little unnecessary.  But I remember feeling a lot of emotion when Blythe turned five, and now being here with you, my second born, at age five? I think I’m more tearful than before. Because now I understand what I didn’t understand when I made that phone call to my sister all those years ago—five is a precipice. It is the first domino that falls and once they start falling I can’t grab ahold of them quickly enough to make them all stop. It’s an end of so much—your toddler years, your days home with me, simple days, few outside influences, etc. But I have to remember it is also a beginning of so many beautiful things—education and school friends, ball games, a growing mind and deeper conversations. So am I sad you’re turning five? No. My tears are not from sadness, they are from nostalgia—an ache that knows this beautiful little kid season with you is beginning to end. But they are also from excitement knowing you are about to step into so many big and wonderful things, and knowing our relationship will now change and grow and deepen. 

This past year with you has maybe been my favorite, Becks. Don’t get me wrong, you were SO adorable and fun the first few years, but man you were difficult too. You were just so stubborn and defiant. But this year you really turned a corner and you’ve listened and obeyed so much better. You are helpful and inquisitive. You can find a quiet corner and occupy yourself for hours. You have developed an awesome sense of humor and have quite the fashion sense, too. You always make comments on what your dad and I are wearing, and even tell us if you think we need to change.

Your favorite friends right now are your sisters. You and Blythe especially can play from sun up to sun down with very little direction from me. And you and Nan have grown leaps and bounds since the beginning of the school year—when you choose to be you are very patient with her and have been a great teacher. You were honestly a HUGE help to me when it came time to potty train Nan, and you took your role quite seriously. You also took to Sloan immediately this year when he joined our family. You would sit and hold him for such a long time, and you were always willing to help feed him or entertain him if I needed to do something else. This transition to a family of six wouldn’t have been as easy without your help.

You are my feeler. You just intuit things differently than the other kids and you process things through your heart. When the other girls get hurt, you cry more than they do. Papa took you hunting a month ago and you were asking questions about if it was okay to shoot the girl deer because they were the ones that had babies. If I am ever not feeling well you come and check on me frequently. The end of my pregnancy with Sloan was very difficult and there were times I was stepping up or down or moving through the house and maybe had a grimace on my face and I would look up and you’d be watching me with concern across yours. A friend recently broke her arm and when I told you about it and showed you her picture, you didn’t ask what most people would ask [“How did it happen?”]—you asked, “Is that the arm she writes with?” You were concerned for her day to day functions. You notice when others are hurting, and right now it kind of paralyzes you in some ways, but I pray that as you get older that it will prompt you to help and move you to action in ways it won’t for others because they may not even notice what your heart seems to naturally see. I actually just read a description in my book [The Clockmaker's Daughter] the other night about a character, and it could have been written about you: "[She] had only to feel in order for those feelings to be known. [She] was dramatic, charming, fun, and funny. [She] was hard work; sunshine in human form; thunderous." 

You and I got to do preschool together this year. Again, it just made the most sense to not drive somewhere, and it gave me one more year with you home. I was a little concerned about what this would look like, because you and I are a lot alike in a lot of ways. But I didn’t know you would mature this year in such fun ways, and it has been an absolute joy of mine to get to be your teacher. You loved to learn, and while it looked different than it did with Blythe, it was fun and interactive and you soaked it up. You are still pretty timid about new situations and lots of people, so I have been a little concerned about how your transition to Kindergarten would go in the fall. But now that we are in May I have no doubt that by August you’ll be so very ready and do wonderful. Actually, the night before you turned five you looked at me and asked, “So do I get to go to Kindergarten tomorrow?” You’re very excited and it thrills my heart to see how far you’ve come in your ability to try new things.

One of those new things for you is Tball. You knew that since you were turning five you would be able to play this year and you could not wait. You wanted [and received] and ball bag for your birthday, and the day of your first practice you woke me up at 7 asking me to help you put on your cleats. I’ve had the rare opportunity to get to be your coach this year too, and getting to watch you make new friends and try new things and practice skills and improve because you really want to has been incredibly fun. You’re still very small for your age, so some of the girls on our team are twice your size [and they will pick you up like you’re a toddler], but this doesn’t seem to intimidate you in the least bit. You can’t throw the ball very far yet, but you are getting faster and faster. I didn’t know if you’d actually play the first game though because when we pulled up to the field it was sprinkling and Blythe said, “Oh no! The lines are going to go away!” and your eyes got great big and you said, “There are LIONS here!?”

You have a tender little heart, Becks, and I feel like you’re pretty in tune with Spirit a lot of times because you’ll ask questions about God that I’ve never even thought about. The other day you asked me if I would make a sign for right above your bed that said, “Jesus, help to not have bad dreams and only have good dreams and I love you forever.” You make me laugh and you help me be creative and you’ve taught me boatloads about patience and consistency. You love to be outside [especially on nature days with papa], you’re our best eater, and you will do anything Blythe does. You have an uncanny sense of how and when to push someone’s buttons. You love to be barefoot, require the least amount of sleep of any of the kids, and would sit in someone’s lap and let them scratch you and hold you forever. You still love to bake and cook with me, you constantly sing songs [especially while going to the bathroom], and the first thing you want done every day is to put your hair in a ponytail.

You really study situations and people, and then a lot of times you’ll mimic their actions [once you even mimicked a woman sashaying her bikini-clad self at the pool one time!Ha!]. And while I love that you are curious, and that you notice things many others don’t, I pray you learn your own drumbeat too. What I mean by that is, I hope you don’t study others so closely that you forget that God made you uniquely—that He poured His gifts into you in ways He didn’t others, and because of that you get to reflect His image. Don’t forget that—stay curious, observe, reflect—but remember that the Only One who’s image you should be trying to imitate is that of Christ.

One of your favorite things to do is correct your sisters [or anyone really] when they are singing because you think you are the master of all lyrics. My favorite one recently was when I walked in and you were telling Nan, “No, Nan. It goes, ‘Father Abraham, and maybe sons…’” You just kind of like to come of with your own way of saying things in general. Like when you were playing outside and it started sprinkling so you ran inside and said, “It’s pittering out there!” Once you were trying to get Nan to come show me something and you were saying, “Nan, come on!” but she wouldn’t come. Finally you said, “Nan! I’m just gonna show you to mommy, I’m not gonna kill you or something!” And once your dad was getting you with his beard, kissing you all over, and when he stopped you threw your hands up to your cheeks and said, “Is my face on fire?!” You’re just so much fun to be around.

And as I always do, I will end this FIVE year old letter with this: Your dad and I hope you always understand the why behind our no-s. We hope you feel safe in the boundaries we set. We hope you feel freedom in the wide open places we leave for you. We hope you see God in our actions and words. We hope when you leave our little home for good and go out on your own that you'll look back on this simple little life we had together-- chaos and mistakes and messes and all-- and see that it was Grace that held us together; that you see that it was God's daily bread that provided it all.

Happy fifth birthday, Becks Lynae! There is nothing you can ever do that will ever make us stop loving you!