my recipe for crock-o's. ("crockpot tacos," for those of you don't do bad puns.)

Prepare yourself for some terrible food photos - my specialty!

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: I hate slow cooker meals.  I just really can't support them.  No one ever eats a slow cooker meal and thinks, "If I had time to cook a real meal, this is exactly what I would hope it would come out tasting like."  No.  They think, "At least I didn't have to take the time to actually cook a real meal."

Everything that goes into a slow cooker comes out tasting like "White + Seasonings."  Chicken enchiladas just taste like "white stuff + green chilis."  Soup comes out tasting like "white stuff + mushy chunks of vegetables (or is that meat?)."  Sad. Sad. Sad.

I know there are a lot of die-hard fans of the slow cooker out there, most of whom fall into one of two camps: Camp "It Makes Chicken Tender" (to whom I say, pound it and marinate it and cook it any other way, and your problem is solved), and Camp "At Least It's Fast"... to whom I say, I HEAR YOU.

Because, yes.  There are days when my top priority is that a meal is fast, hands-off, and ready and waiting for me when I get home.  While I still cannot get behind a full-on Crockpot meal, I definitely do appreciate using it when I need to; namely, on Wednesdays.

Wednesday is our busiest day of the week.  We're gone all morning on our trip to the Amish, we do school in the afternoon, Atticus has a standing speech therapy appointment at 4:00, and we often stop at the library afterward.  We're typically home around 5:30, just minutes before Todd walks in the door from work.  I just don't have the energy to only begin meal prep at that point, so I like having easy-to-prepare meals about ready to serve once I get home.

Last night it was Crock-o's - tacos made with the help of the Crockpot.  I love this meal because it's super easy, and the kids love it.  Also, I love this meal because my current favorite jokes involve  rhyming Rocco, Crock-O's, tacos, Chacos, etc., so taco night is a good opportunity to flex my Jokes muscles.  I promise I have other redeeming Best Friend qualities if you'd be willing to overlook how much time I invest in thinking of Rocco/Taco jokes.

It is definitely not the cheapest meal I serve (it costs around $15 to feed a family our size, and I usually like to keep it below $10 per supper), but everything costs something.  With those extra dollars I spend, I'm buying myself some sweet, sweet time.

I thought it would be a good idea to give you a really close look at some refried beans.  Because when is that not a good idea?

So, the basic concept is this:  Throw a couple pounds of ground beef or ground turkey in the Crockpot with about a half a cup of water or broth.  Cook on low for 4-6 hours, drain, and season with a couple of packets of taco seasonings and a little bit of water or broth.  Dinner cooked!

All of the fixings for tacos can be purchased ready-made, while still being relatively whole foods-based.

Shredded lettuce
Shredded cheese
Salsa
Guacamole (from the fridge case or quickly thrown together)
Refried beans
Sour cream
Tortillas and tortilla chips

Speaking of how much I disdain white meals... I present you with this mostly monochromatic food photo.  I roll the kids' tacos into more of a burrito because it keeps the mess down, and also I like to defy expectations.  Also, how sad does that lettuce look?

The other bonus is that the only dishes I get dirty in meal prep/serving are the Crockpot bowl and some spoons for the salsa and sour cream.  Easy prep, easy clean up.  It's almost enough incentive to get me to rethink my haughty ways.  Maybe I can one day hope to expand my slow cooker horizons, get down off my high horse, and find some more simple ways to incorporate the lowly slow cooker.  Maybe.

postpartum weight loss: how I (finally) lost all the baby weight.

If you missed it (in which case I would encourage you to subscribe to The Minivan Voorsts YouTube channel!), here's yesterday's vlog on how I've reached my postpartum weight loss goal.  Spoiler: it's not a magic pill.  But it's also not torture.  It's somewhere on the spectrum between a magic pill and torture, closer to the 'magic pill' end.  So that's a positive, for sure.

Second spoiler: it's Trim Healthy Mama.  I bet you already guessed that, though, huh?  Because the BUZZ IS REAL, Y'ALL.  All those moms ain't lyin'.  It works.

Go here to hear how it works, and how it's worked for me.

introducing: atticus.

Okay, if you've been reading for any length of time, Atticus is not a new face around here.  But I thought I'd take a quick minute to highlight each kiddo individually, and I thought I'd start with Atticus because, well, it kind of all starts with Atticus.  This blog itself started as an announcement when we were first expecting him!

So, without further ado, here's the man of the hour:

To answer a commonly-asked question, yes, he is named after Atticus Finch.  In the novel, To Kill a Mockingbird, Atticus Finch is compassionate, wise, humble, respectable and just.  He is committed to doing the right thing, even at the risk of great cost to himself.  He was also seen as a great father in the eyes of his daughter, and the name Atticus has come to mean 'father-like,' by definition.  We wanted all those things for our son, and he is absolutely carrying his name well.

He is nine-and-a-half, going on twenty-five.  But that's always been the case.  I remember him at eighteen months, taking so much joy in just lining up and organizing his toys.  He is methodical and thoughtful and a stickler for the RIGHT way of doing things.  He is the kind of kid that, if unsure whether something is allowed or not, he automatically assumes it's not, and he doesn't try it.  He is not a rebel, but is very committed to the concept of authority - both in wielding it, and submitting to it.

He loves justice and order, and has talked passionately for the past four or five years about one day joining the service.  He is often found walking around sporting helmets and gear, and pretending to fight off the Nazis.  He is deeply interested in, and knowledgeable about, both world wars, but especially WWII.

For as 'black and white' as he can be, he is also so tender-hearted, compassionate and artistic.  His mind is incredible.  Often, if he's processing through something emotionally or mentally, he likes to draw it on paper.  It's like his hands just need to graphically organize and illustrate his thoughts.  He is an internal processor, so he doesn't like a whole lot of talking when he's wrestling with his thoughts, and he's an introvert.  When he's feeling overwhelmed, he likes to retreat to a quiet place for a while.  He often keeps things to himself, but when the floodgates open, he's able to communicate on a deep, introspective level.

He loves babies, and talks often about how excited he is to be a husband and father someday.

He is thoughtful and servant-hearted around the house, frequently looking for opportunities to help his siblings with their chores, or help me with my work load.  Of all my kids, he's the most likely to come up to me unprompted and give me a big hug and a quiet, "I love you, Mom."

For Atticus, my biggest prayer is that he would be brave enough to do the things God calls him to.  I pray he would be both a great man, and a good man.  I pray I would be a brave enough mom to let him be brave - to not fight against his pursuit of his calling because of my own fears.  I pray he would find a wife who adores all his amazing qualities, and trusts his integrity and leadership.  And I pray he will get to be a dad to lots of kiddos, and that he would train them up well in the knowledge and instruction of the Lord.

That's my Atticus.  My strong, quiet, intelligent, integrous, sweet, creative Atticus.

tour our homeschool!

As we wrap up the school year, I thought I'd show you how we have settled into this school space so far.  It has been a gradual process, and it is continuing to evolve even now.  It is so weird for me to think about the fact that we have officially done more schoolwork here, in this house, than we did in Cedar Falls.

When I think about homeschooling the kids, I still have the strongest associations with our Cedar Falls house - watching Penelope wiggle around in the kitchen nook while doing her math, or Atticus working on handwriting at the dining room table, or Penelope hanging upside down in one of the arm chairs while she recited her narrations in the afternoon.  I still think of snuggling up on our sunny couch, on the end near the piano, to read books together and listen to our folk songs on the laptop.  It was the first place we jumped into our homeschooling adventure, and I miss it.

See?  Wasn't it cute?

See? Weren't they even cuter?

I have worked hard to try to make our current space as cozy and functional as that first space.  We still have a ways to go, but we're getting there.  One of the things I love at the moment is that we're finally getting some good use out of our beautiful piano - we've been carting it from house to house with us over the course of our many moves, but it hasn't been until moving here that the kids have actually started learning to play it.  I've also really liked the way our attached garage has become a flex-space for us, housing the kids' woodworking supplies, and providing an 'in-between' activity area between outside and inside.

Without further ado, I give you our homeschool:

All of our schooling happens in our main living area, which is not huge.  I like having our school things tucked away, rather than taking over all the visual space.  Formal school activities are only one part of our lives; I don't want it to look like that's all our lives orient around.  I want our living space to look like we live and learn here.

If you've been paying attention to my subtle (and not-so-subtle) announcements on the blog lately, you'll notice these photos were taken a few weeks ago.  Spot the changes that haven't been made yet in these photos?

We start our school mornings in the dining room with 'table work'.  The kids get out their binders, which contain all of their reading assignments, handwriting papers, and math worksheets.  They also get out their piano lesson binders, and take turns at the piano during this time.

If they need to grab manipulatives to help them with their math at this time, they just grab this basket off the shelf in the living room.

In the afternoon, Finneas joins the big kids for read-alouds while the littler ones are napping, and we all snuggle in the living room while we dive into the stories.  Often, everyone will sprawl on the floor and draw while I read.  (After each reading, I pick one kid to narrate back to me what they heard, so they have to make sure they're still paying attention while they draw!  So far, the fear of being called on and not knowing what to say has been enough motivation to listen; I haven't needed to craft a dunce hat yet.  Which is good, because I'm not crafty, and it would probably just turn out looking like a party hat anyway, which just seems counterproductive.)

All of our school materials are kept close at hand on this book shelf.

That's really all we need for any given homeschool day.  Obviously, there are special days that require extras like art supplies, which I keep in a cupboard in the garage.  I also have 'teacher-y' materials that I need to keep track of, so I keep them tucked away in little corners around our living space.

There's a china cupboard in our dining room that houses most of our 'random' office supplies and equipment.  Also, a stereo that hails from the eighteenth dynasty.  (It's so old, it doesn't even plug into the wall; it just contains a family band of rats who have been trained to play primitive instruments whenever I push the 'power' button.)

As for my planner, record books, and other quick-grab items I need throughout the day, I keep them on this ancient high chair I bought for $5 at a garage sale.  He's like the permanent butler at the door of my kitchen, standing at the ready with any items I may find urgently necessary.  Poor little guy; I suspect he doesn't feel like he is living up to his potential.

And that is our homeschool area as it currently stands!  (Or, at least, how it stood a few weeks ago before we got a new basement door and I hung some curtains and wall décor.)  I'm hoping to someday build some bookshelves for the back wall, replace the side chairs with benches, perhaps get a pretty wall map, and switch out the Black Hollow Core Door That The Underworld Rejected for something less vacuous.  If you squint really hard, can you envision it?

In case you missed it: for a video tour of our space (including an extra glimpse into our flex-use garage, and my supply storage), click here!

'what's up weekly': the week of unmatched fun!

This week has been the very best.

We kicked off last weekend with the door installation that made life worth living again.

While Todd installed the door, I took the girls to the mall to see if the nail place would take walk-ins.  I had told Penelope that if she would stop biting her nails, I'd take her for her first manicure, and she had finally kicked the bad habit and grown her nails out pretty long.  When I told her we could go that afternoon, Laurelai of course wanted to come, too, so we made a girls' day out of it.  But the wait time at the mall was over an hour and a half, so we left and instead just stopped at the candy machines to drop some cha-ching (well, we spent a quarter, so maybe that's just dropping some 'cha'?  That sounds like a drug reference, though, so we'll stick with calling it cha-ching).

We made an appointment at a place closer to the house for tomorrow afternoon, so we'll go then.  The girls are getting both their fingers and toes done - it's all very exciting.

On Sunday, the kids and I stayed home from church.  Whatever cough virus thing the kids had been dealing with all week was on its way out, but it was still breaking up, so it sounded awful.  I didn't want to subject other families to that, so we sat out yet another week.  Todd brought home barbecue from a local drive-through place, and we all ate in our varying states of clothing-slash-pajamas.

On Monday, we kicked off the Week of Unmatched Fun with a turtle delivery: some of our friends were getting rid of their three-legged pet box turtle, so we are now proud pet owners.  We promptly named the little guy Stumpy, and all I hear from Rocco all day long is, "I hode Dumpee?  I touch Dumpee?  Where Dumpee go?  Dare he is!  Tiny towdle guy!  I love him SOOOOO much."  Rocco + Stumpy = True Love Forever.

Tuesday was the Day of the Brand New Sprinkler.  We had one last year, but the kids had broken it less than ten minutes after unboxing it, so I was kind of skeptical this would be a lasting gift, but so far it has held its own.  Probably because I've threatened the kids, on pain of having to come inside and do Grumble Jobs, that They'd Better Not Touch The Sprinkler Or Else.

Rocco chose to participate vicariously in the sprinkler shenanigans.

Wednesday was packed full of unmatched fun: first, we baked strawberry shortcake together.  Then, we ate it for lunch.  Then, when the kids complained that they didn't really like it, I didn't make them finish it.  (In their defense, it was grain-free and sugar-free, and only okay at best.)  Aren't I an indulgent mom?  Then, for dinner, we went to a barbecue at a friend's house, and the kids got to spend the evening playing in their pool.  As it was also the 74th anniversary of D-Day, we brought frozen eclairs, to honor the Europe that we fought so valiantly for.  (Ironically, the Europeans would probably look down their noses at our pitiful frozen snack foods, but I didn't tell Atticus that.  He still thinks they respect us over there.)

Yesterday's Activity of Unmatched Fun was an hour spent swimming in a friend's pool.  A fantastic time was had by all.

Finneas found a frog in the pool drain.

This sister just sat by me.  She was NOT interested in getting wet to any degree.

And today, I'm planning on surprising the kids with a trip to a local frozen custard place that's supposedly all the rage.

And in other newsy tidbits, Atticus turned nine and a half and is, apparently, all legs.

I organized my linen closet, which had been looking like a magpie nest for the last year and had been driving me bananas.  I can now finally look at it without wanting to burn the whole thing to the ground, which is a step in the right direction.

I've been feeling outrageously nesty lately, so I also spent quite a bit of time working on Callista's room, drawing up plans for a family closet, and getting my crafty on to make a free wall hanging out of some leftover cotton rope and a stick I found in the yard.  Callista kept me company while I worked on stripping the bark off the stick.

And the kids spent inordinate amounts of time playing outside.  I just love seeing them play together!

This was taken right before Finneas yelled, "Hey Mom!  Check out my magic trick!" and proceeded to pull massive, billowing plumes of dust out of his shorts pockets.  Eeeeexcellent.

That was our week!  It was fun, but it was tiring.  I'm looking forward to a more low-key, structured, predictable week next week!

In case you missed it:

Check out my new, amazing basement door.

Here's some dumb stuff I did in college, and how it relates to our current Week of Unmatched Fun.

If you've ever wondered how hard it is, really, to manage a large family, this post is for you.

Or, if you'd rather watch the Facebook Live I did on the same topic, check it out here.  (I cover my laundry routine, toy rotation, and more.)

how hard is it to raise a large family?

I think a natural, common question people have about large families is whether or not it's hard.  Or really, I think people assume it's hard, but they want to know how hard.  Specifically, how much harder it is to manage a large family than it is to manage an average-sized family.  A little harder?  A lot harder?

The people want to know.  So I'll do my best to give the people what they want.

I am currently a mom of six.  Someday, I hope to be a mom of even more.  But I think people sometimes forget that I was once a mom of just one.  I was once a mom of just two.  I've lived both lives, so I feel like I have the authority and experience to make a pretty accurate comparison.  And here's what I've found:


It's definitely harder to raise a large family.  Except when it's absolutely, 100% easier than raising an average-sized family.

Yes, there are things that are harder to juggle when the number of kids increase.  I often have 'wait lists' of needs to meet: I can't wipe one kid's butt until I'm finished breastfeeding another kid, and someone else is bleeding because they've gotten into the knife drawer, and it's 2 p.m. and I still haven't eaten breakfast.  There are usually two kids talking to me at one time, frequently there's a fight happening that needs my attention.  Keeping eyes on all the discipline issues can be overwhelming at times, and the constant head-counting in public is really exhausting.  Seasonal clothes swapping is a nightmare.  There are things that are objectively more difficult to manage when there are more kids in the house.

Some things are neutral.  I still go grocery shopping at the same frequency; I just buy more food when I'm there.  I still make dinner every night, I just double the recipe.  Our house is actually smaller now than when we had just three kids.  I think you'd be surprised by how little our home life has needed to change as a result of continuing to grow our family.

But here's the really surprising thing: so many things are so much easier because of the number of kids I have.  They play with each other, which frees me from needing to be the one to entertain them.  They help each other, and they help me.  The extra stuff I have on my plate every day forces me to be more motivated and disciplined, and I'm actually much more productive and have a lot more time for rest than I did when my family was smaller.  To be honest, I would say that each kid starting with kid #4 has made life a little easier and a little easier.

The truth is, a lot of this is because my oldest kids have gotten older.  I have three kids who are four and under at the moment, but it is nothing like it was when my oldest three were that little.  So gradually growing a family is much different than just multiplying toddlers, which I think is the fear so many young moms face when considering whether they're up for having more kids.

So if you find yourself wondering how much harder is it really to have more kids, hear me saying that it ends up kind of being a net wash - if anything, I've actually found the scales tipping toward the easier, more enjoyable side as our family gets larger.

So there you have it.  If you have any questions - general or specific! - about the nitty gritties of managing a family our size, make sure to ask!  I'm happy to field anything you're curious about.

I will be doing a semi-impromptu Facebook Live chat this afternoon on this same general topic - I'm going to shoot for around 2:00, but we all know how the days can get, so the time may be a bit flexible.  If you have any questions or thoughts on the topic of large families, make sure to join in on the Facebook page!

it all started with the turtle. (alternately titled, I need your ideas!)

When I was in college, my roommate and I would declare occasional KAPNOUFs: Katy And Paige's Nights of Unmatched Fun.  We would spend the evening doing THE most random stuff.  Once, we got our hands on one of those simulation pregnancy bellies and took turns wearing it around.  Another time, we dressed up in raptor pajamas and painted our VCR.  Another time, in the winter, we took cafeteria trays and had our friend Vern pull us around on the ice with his car while we hung on to the driver's side mirror. (Because we were idiots.  WE COULD HAVE DIIIIIIED. But we were fun idiots.)  I think we smoked a tobacco pipe once.  We air-lassoed like there was no tomorrow.

You know.  Stuff like that.

So, it's seemingly unrelated, but bear with me: last week, my friend Rachel texted to ask if we'd want their pet turtle.  (You may remember him from previous blog posts - he has three legs and a crooked shell and the forbearance of a saint.)  Todd and I aren't really pet people, but the turtle is seriously low-key, and we knew the kids would love having a pet, so we said yes.

I hadn't told the kids about it until Rachel pulled into the driveway with the turtle and all his equipment (read: cup of bait worms and a heat lamp; easiest pet in the world), at which point all mayhem ensued.  Everyone is completely thrilled to be pet owners.  It dawned on me at that point that we could turn this into a whole Week of Unmatched Fun: I could do something small and random every day to make this break week memorable.

Monday was Turtle Day, obvs.  Yesterday, I bought a sprinkler and the kids played in it for well over an hour.

Today, I'm thinking I'll make strawberry shortcake for lunch.  (I got some amazing, fresh strawberries up at the Amish yesterday, as well as some cream for making whipped cream.)  Also, as it's the anniversary of D-Day, Atticus has requested some kind of French dessert, so we'll be busting out some frozen eclairs.

I'm going to see if my friend Megan, who has a pool at her apartment complex, is up for some pool pals either tomorrow or Friday... which leaves me one remaining day this week to figure out.

Any ideas for something simple, cheap, fun, and easy to accomplish with six kids in tow?  Let me hear them!

the door to my heart.

I had all kinds of plans to talk about homeschool stuff today, as I wrap up the year and already start gearing up for next year.  I have plans to tell you about our summer schedule, and show you what our portfolios will look like, and give a rundown of all the amazingness we fit into our pretty relaxed Charlotte Mason school year.  HOWEVER.  I made all these plans before Todd decided to hang my new door.  So forget the rest of that noise, TODAY WE'RE TALKING ABOUT MY DOOR.

For my birthday in March, I had asked for a new door leading from our dining room into our garage.  The one we have now is hollow core, black, dog-ugly, and really fit only for the fiery pits of hell.  It is a serious bane of my existence, a thorn in my flesh, a Lego in my shoe.  I have been cursing it since the day we moved in, and I'm ready to find its replacement.  So I thought a-shopping for vintage doors we should go!

Long story short and predictable, we made a trip to St. Louis to look for one, but couldn't find one that fit that opening.  BUT we did find a couple of other things that made life worth living for at least a little longer.  This radiator...

...and a paneled wood door that fit the doorway to the basement stairs.  We got a glass knob, and a door plate... and stuck it in the garage until such time as we would get around to hanging it.

One thing you need to know about us is that we are not handy.  Like, at allllll.  One other thing you should know is that I'm a really slow decorator, so even when I'm capable, it takes me a reeeeeally long time to pull the trigger on any decorating decisions.  (It all stems from a poor, hastily made decision about my wedding dress, and I still can't shake the trauma.)

So imagine my surprise when, mere weeks after having purchased the door, I came inside from watering the garden to find Todd prepping the doorway for its replacement surgery.  I knew I married this wonderful man for something other than just his sick bod.

From what he tells me, it was simple enough.  I wouldn't know; I didn't help.  I took the girls to the mall to get their nails painted and left him to slave away on the door surgery by himself.

When I got home, the door was hung and looking glorious, and Todd denies having heard anything, but I swear it was singing to me.   "Paaaaaaaaige.  You were so riiiiiiiiiiight.  I look amaaaaaaaaaaaaazing, just like you knew I wouuuuuuuuld.  NowgivemeaHUUUUUUUUG!"  (That was the crescendo of the song, in case you didn't automatically transpose that in your mind.)  Try as you might, it is physically impossible to resist the urge of a singing door, so I was compelled to hug it.  (I was also compelled to clean it; it's seriously like an 80-year-old door and it needed a little spruce.)

You guys.  I'm not telling you how to live your lives or anything, but consider this a strong push to line up outside my house to come in and see this for yourselves.  Hear the solid 'doomph' sound it makes when it closes, the way a door should.  No more of this clicky-sounding hollow core nonsense.  Real, old-fashioned doomphing is happening around here for the first time in the two years we've lived in this house.

I am, unfortunately, now foaming at the mouth to replace every last door on the premises.  Todd really should know better than to let me start on stuff like this.  Shame on him.