what's up weekly.

How is it Friday already?  I swear, just yesterday I was sitting down to write the last W.U.W.  I suppose it's a good sign that the week went so quickly!

We were joined this week by a visiting Turtle.  He has three legs and a very crooked shell, and though his current owners call him Crush, I like to call him Stumpy (Stumps, for short).  He(?) has been the best house guest, though I'm not sure he would say we've been excellent hosts.  He has been harassed, assaulted, jostled, manhandled, and otherwise beleaguered, and I think he may be ready to go home.  However, we're holding him hostage until his rightful owners return,  or until he passes to the Great Hole-Under-a-Log in the Sky, which he seems like he may prefer to persevering through the next week at our house.  But I'm really hoping not.  I would like to not have to return their turtle sunny-side-up.  So I'm doing everything I can to prevent that from happening: I dutifully dole out his daily ration of chopped up bits of earthworms, and I'm zone-defensing the crap out of him.  Just call me Stumpy's Secret Service.

Rocco is SO. OBSESSED. with this turtle.  It's all he thinks about and all he talks about.  The second I get him out of bed in the mornings or after nap, the first words out of his mouth are, "I hold turtle?  Turtle my hands?" 

Friday, my throat was still hurting from what I believe must have been Gum from the Boiling Pits of Hell, carefully handcrafted by the Devil himself.  It tasted fine, sure, but chewing it basically cauterized all my mucosal linings, and I've had a lot of throat pain.  So I went to Urgent Care and got a strep test done, just to make sure I wasn't overlooking anything major.  The test came back negative - which is positive, harhar, except for the fact that I still have a sore throat nearly two weeks later, and there's basically nothing I can do about it.

Since we spent the whole afternoon at the doctor, Rocco missed his nap.  So he fell asleep on the couch watching Netflix.  Which was so adorable and pitiful.

On Saturday, the girls and I baked a pie together.  It turned out tasting delicious, but it definitely had a face for radio.

What else?  I started a 30 day fitness challenge.  Committing to it already puts me way out of my league - much less actually doing it.  I am so out of shape.  So here's to hoping to fix that.  Also, a friend of mine sent me some cloth 'paper' towels to try out, and I'm so excited!

Also, Todd taught at church on Sunday, so we stopped at a local specialty donut place on the way home.  Because when you start off the morning on such a good foot, you really want to finish strong.  Why, yes, that is a maple and bacon donut you spy.

And lastly, this little booger turned nine months old, and figured it was as good a time as any to learn how to get herself up to standing. 

One more step towards complete and independent motility.  IT ALL GOES TOO FAST.  GIVE ME MY BABY BAAAAAAAAAACK!  I spent more time this week cuddling my friend's newborn, and it blew my mind to think that Callista was this tiny just a few short months ago!

Other than that, it was a pretty normal week.  Speech therapy for Atticus.  Trip to the Amish.  Sitting around in my pajamas at all hours of the day.  Not too shabby!  Bring on next week!

large family pantry storage: before and after a grocery shopping trip.

it is my birthday.

Birthdays, birthdays, birthdays.  It's basically all I've been talking about on here lately, and that's not going to change today, because today is my birthday, and this is my blog, and gosh darn it, I'm going to celebrate!

We did things up right good this weekend.  On Saturday, the girls and I grabbed some ingredients to make a pie.  Do you know how long it's been since I've had a real, homemade pie?  Years.  This gluten-free thing has robbed so many things from me, first and foremost of which is pie.  Penelope got it into her head that she wanted to make a dessert for me, so we decided we'd look to see if Schnucks had a gluten-free pie crust in the freezer... and what. do. you. know.  BEST NEWS EVER!  (Followed closely by the discovery that Schnucks also carries Kerrygold Irish Cream, seventeen exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

So Saturday night, we made a triple berry pie and it was amazing.  We made a crumble topping for it that somehow disappeared into the pie as it was baking, but it was pretty while it lasted.

Yesterday, the kids organized a special performance of the Penelope Van Voorst Original piece, "Flamingo Parade."  It's hard to explain, but the basic gist was that the kids all marched back and forth through the living room like, well, parading flamingos.  It was hilarious. 

Then Penelope presented me with a card she made me covered in drawings of my favorite animal (birds of paradise), and a couple of gifts she got me: a bag of gummi bears, and a pair of rose quartz earrings.  

Then, to uphold Van Voorst tradition, Todd took me outside for the classic Age Numbers photos.

My face looks ridiculous in this one, but look at my ups.  On paper, I'm a 32-year-old mom of six.  But jumping off a rock, my legs peg me squarely as a 20-year-old star in the WNBA.

ULTIMATE PUNCH.

You just got Birthday'd.


*Just a housekeeping note: Today's Marriage Monday vlog is up!  Today's topic is 'How to Think About How You Look."  The Bible speaks directly to how we should take our husbands into account when making decisions about how to present ourselves.  Check it out!

what's up weekly.

Oh, this week, this week, this week!

I kicked it off by getting my hair highlighted.  (Highlit?)  I am seriously schizophrenic about my hair.  I haven't decided yet if I prefer it better darker or lighter, so I keep alternating.  What are your thoughts?

Rocco also got a stylin' do.  Excellent side part, little buddy.

Laurelai loves to read Madeline before her naps every day, but since I wasn't home at naptime on Saturday, Penelope took over for me.  

Callista went through something weird for a few days where she kind of fought me on nursing, but she also wouldn't take a bottle from me, either.  Todd finally wrestled her into relative calm, and here she is, taking her first bottle.

And speaking of Callista, I haven't shown you her new earrings yet.  HOW CUTE IS SHE?!

Saturday night was really rough with the kids, so we didn't make it to church on Sunday.

Rocco decided he wanted to start potty training all of a sudden.  I'm not sure I'm totally ready for that commitment yet, so this isn't an announcement that we're jumping in with both feet, but he convinced me to let him sit there and try at least a couple of times.

Monday night we took the kids to the theater to see The Riot and the Dance, and had a blast, though I think I ate about four days' worth of calories.  That popcorn is like a really fattening drug.  So basically the opposite of meth.  And consider me a proponent of anything that's the opposite of meth.  So by eating all that popcorn, I was really just doing my part in the war on drugs.

Tuesday, we drove to Kansas City in the morning for the final impressions and fittings for Atticus' orthotropics appliance, which will be actually installed the first week of May.  Stuff's getting real, and not a moment too soon.  His adult teeth are so crowded, and he's started mouth-breathing.  It is time.

Once we were back that afternoon, my friend Ana came over to watch the kids for a little while so I could go over and help my friend Megan with her newborn.  That sounds way more altruistic than it actually was; I just wanted an opportunity to snuggle a tiny baby for an hour, so I made Megan go take a nap and leave me alone with Baby Elizabeth and a good book.  Pure selfishness.  There are worse ways to spend an hour.

On Wednesday, I woke up with terrible throat pain.  Weirdly, I suspect it was chemical burns from this really horrific gum I bought and didn't have the common sense to stop chewing after it burned the top layer of my tongue off.  Dumb.  But by Wednesday, my throat was feeling terrible, and a bunch of drainage from it clogged up my ear (SCRUMPTIOUS!) and I was worried I was getting an ear infection.  So after our trip to the Amish that morning, I stopped at Natural Grocers for a crazy number of throat remedies, as well as some ear oil and ear candles.

Those ear candles work miracles, I swear.  And it pulled out SO. MUCH. GUNK. from my ear.  I think my head actually weighs less now.

Yesterday, I woke up feeling mostly fine.  I'd had a 'hot' toddy sitting on my nightstand all night and took swigs through the night as I woke up with lingering pain.  (It was a very cold toddy by morning.)  Not sure what exactly made the difference, but a difference was made, and I felt SO much better.  

Which brings me to today.  We're planning on doing some gardening and some laundry, and getting the house ready for my sister and brother-in-law to come stay the night with us!  Tomorrow, they'll watch the kids for the day so that Todd and I (and my third arm, Callista) can spend the day in St. Louis for my upcoming 21st birthday.  We're going hunting for a pretty vintage door to replace the ugly black hollow core monstrosity in my dining room.  Please pray our hunt is successful!

And beyond that, not much else happened this week.  Rocco attempted to catch the 'ladybugs' floating around in the rays of light from the window.

Penelope and I spent some buddy time reading.

And our house continues to be a major pit.

And that was our week!

i refuse.

I'm not blogging today and you can't make me.

I have lots I want to do today: finish up my current book.  Work in the garden.  Come home from Atticus' speech therapy appointment and immediately change back into pajamas.  Maybe get some homeschooling accomplished.  Blogging is on the backburner.

I have a kitchen that could stand a good scrub-down, a baby that desperately needs a normal day of naps after a long, weird week, and about fourteen million trillion loads of laundry to wash.  Blogging? Pssssht.  That's for chuckleheads.

I need to prep dinner, which is scheduled to be lasagna... which conflicts with the fact that the friend who is eating dinner with us is both lactose intolerant and unrelatedly lasagna-averse.  I need to gather my grocery lists for shopping tonight.  I need to get the house ready for my sister and BIL to come for the weekend.  I have no time for such things as blogging.

So I suppose I should hop to all of that... and stop blogging...  because I'm not blogging today.  You can't make me.

digging up some dirt.

GARDENING SEASON IS HERE AGAIN.  LA LA LA LA LA.

When we moved from Iowa, we left behind a tiny but mighty garden.

I loved that garden.  I still miss that garden.  Not that I'm really proficient at, or even all that passionate about gardening.  By August every season, I'm kind of just over the maintenance of having an extra child to bathe and pick the bugs off of. 

But in March, I'm not worrying about the bugs or the watering or the idiocy that is planting cucumbers yet again, even though I HATE cucumbers and never get around to pickling them to make them even remotely edible.  No, in March, my hopes are high.  With seed catalogs and graph paper in hand, I start foaming at the mouth to start pretending winter is over and that green will be coming back into my life soon.  I feel the stirrings of some kind of agricultural maternalism - I am woman! I will bring forth life from the womb of my backyard!  I will nurture and water and mama-monkey the bugs off my baby!  This year, I WILL!

The first year we lived here, we didn't have a garden at all.  Last year, we installed raised beds when I was 38 weeks pregnant, so even though I planted a few things, I knew all along that I had other competing and more pressing maternal matters at hand, and that I likely wouldn't commit even the normal amount of apathy to the endeavor.

BUT THIS YEAR.

This year I have garden beds, and amended soil, and a wide-open summer on the schedule.  I have older kids who will help me plant and water and pick and eat. 

The other day, we did our first garden work of the season: clearing the straw off the beds, turning the compost into the soil, and planting a few cool-weather seeds.

This year is going to be different.  I have high, high hopes, friends.  Now, who wants to give me a high-five in solidarity?

the riot and the dance.

We haven't always had TV in our home.  I mean, kind of.  But then again, kind of not.

When Todd and I were first married, and living in an apartment that boasted free cable (and an actual meth lab two doors down the hall, etc.), we had alllllll the channels.  Of course, I used that privilege to watch endless episodes of Friends and Scrubs on syndication while Todd was working his interminable overnight shifts.

When we moved to Story City and the cable didn't come free and we were dirt-poor, we scrapped the cable.  In fact, that was also right around the time that antennae TVs stopped working and you had to get one of those special boxes to even get the free basic channels.  We didn't feel like exerting the energy necessary to figure that out, so we basically watched endless VCR-recorded episodes of Cheap Seats on a massive, ancient, brick of a television set Todd got in the mid-nineties.  The kids had a couple Yo Gabba Gabba DVDs, and I also had all ten seasons of Friends on DVD because, "How do I live without Friends, I want to know..."  I have no idea how someone would go about that.

When we moved to Cedar Falls, we didn't even have a place to hook up the TV, so we watched a lot of very tiny Netflix shows on a very tiny laptop in the living room.

When we got here, we were blessed with a giant family room in the basement, with a giant sectional, to fit our giant family... and a big ol' blank wall where a TV ought to go.  But The Brick had been jettisoned in the move, so we continued to watch shows on the laptop, which was getting harder and harder to crowd around as our family grew.

And then last Christmas, Todd's parents gifted us a TV.  A real TV that hangs on the wall.  A TV that can stream Netflix.  A TV large enough for all of us to see from the sectional.  It has been, well, glorious.

I tell you all this backstory as a wordy way of getting to this point: we have spent some of our family time lately watching nature documentaries together on our slammin' TV, and loving every second of it.  So when we heard about a Creation-perspective nature documentary being released called "The Riot and the Dance," we were really excited. 

It was showing for one night at our local theater, so we bought tickets for ourselves and the four biggest kids, and planned to make a night of it with tons of popcorn and Reese's Pieces.  The kids had a great time, and the documentary itself was so great! 

Ever a cynic, I figured it would be creationistic in the sense that, where the macroevolutionary garble typically shows up in these things, it would just have some little pacifying Christian spin.  But it was rooted so deeply in Scripture, and really highlighted the interplay of Creation, and the Fall, and the longing for redemption as seen in nature, and how they all interact with the principles of mankind's call to stewardship and dominion.

Throughout the showing, Penelope just kept whispering, "I love this!  I love this movie!"  The boys were pretty quiet through most of it.  Laurelai was super wiggly - understandable, as this was her first experience in a movie theater, but unfortunate, as she was barely heavy enough to hold the folding chair seat down and catapulted herself right out of it a couple times.

Oh, well.  She survived, and actually enjoyed the little bits of the movie she saw in between wiggling, chatting and begging for more Reese's Pieces.

I'm so glad we got the chance to go to this.   We'll definitely be getting it on DVD once it comes out. If you have a chance to see it at your theater, you really should!