Tag: heart

Fighting Failure

July 12, 2019

Fighting Failure

It’s when your mind tells you stuff that isn’t what God wants you to hear, but the logical part of you says, “yes, that’s right,” so you agree and allow the spirit of failure to permeate your day.

I know in my heart that anything discouraging that doesn’t come with a motivation for how to fix it isn’t from God.  Yet, my logical brain doesn’t always catch these.

Fighting with the spirit of failure has been tough for me lately, especially the last couple of weeks.  One of the girls says “you are always busy,” and I hear “you are never home” to which my logical brain reminds me that I leave before most  are awake and I come home straight to dinner, cleaning, and bedtime or arrive just as bedtime starts.  My brain reiterates: “you are a failure” (at being a good mom.)

Louis says, “obviously, that’s wrong” when I ask for his help and my brain says, “you can’t even put a couch cushion cover on right!” This makes me irritated so I leave because I am now mad at Louis – to which my brain shouts, “see, you’re a horrible wife,” and I believe that because I couldn’t even get dinner ready within an hour the night before but Louis can throw a gourmet meal together in twenty minutes (why do I even agree with that failure, I know I’m not a fast cook?).  My brain reminds me of strings of “wife fails” in reverse order like comic book pages on fast-forward speed laughing, “you are a failure” (at being a wife.)

I’m working so much and have little time (when they need me) lately to spend helping my family with our recent losses.  One of my friends says “you’ll make time,” and since I haven’t stopped my job or altered my schedule too much, my brain laughs, “you are a failure” (at being a good sister, daughter.)

One of my friends is going through a very trying time and I want to be there for her more, but I’m busy when she’s free or I turn into a pumpkin at nine-thirty (to get to bed by ten & therefore up by five to get ready for work) but she is usually home and free in the evenings.  My brain tells me, “see, you are such a failure” (at being a friend.)

BUT… (positive one!)

I have to remind my mind (remind = renew my mind, if you will) that we are all failures.  All have sinned and come short of perfection.  So, yes, of course I fail over and over!  God gives me peace, hope, and joy.  I do my best with what life has given me and pray for God to give me the joy (translates into strength for me) to handle what I’m lacking.

So even though physically and humanly, I am not matching up to my image of perfection (another trap for us perfectionists, we actually think somehow that we can be perfect on our own), when I remind my mind who I am, I remember this: I am saved by undeserved favor (meaning I did NOTHING to deserve it, rather I deserved to die).  Jesus knew my failures ahead of time yet chose to say, “I want her.”

Now I can fight this feeling of failure by choosing to fix where I can improve and trust God with the rest.  I’m not going to be working from home again anytime soon – I will trust God with that.  I can try to prioritize time spent at home.  (I think I’m doing good until I literally take a step wrong my first day off & bruise my neck & shoulders so I spend almost two whole days recovering and doing nothing… and those were supposed to be quality family days!)  I remind my mind, “in all things, trust God.”

The joy of the Lord is my strength.  My mind plays Rebecca St. James “Be The Voice,” and Mandisa’s “Born For This” as I tell myself to “Lay it All Down” and trust.  “This Song is Alive” and “My Heart’s Already There!” (Point of Grace, NewSong, respectively)

Music is my key to joy!  Music is how I fight failure!  Thank you, Jesus, for music!  Thank you for always helping me to fight the spirit of failure in me.

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Loss and Love

June 23, 2019

Loss and Love

Standing excitedly on the screened porch steps, 6 children stand about squirming, giggling, jumping, and otherwise trying to pitifully contain their excitement.

“What is it, Daddy!” chorus a half-dozen voices.

Daddy pulls out a stork – plain, white, six-foot-tall wooden stork.

“No, Daddy! It is a boy or a girl!” “Is it a Bobby or a Mary?” “Daddy! That doesn’t tell us anything!” “Daddy!”

He’s grinning under that “Indian Jones” hat he always wore. He loves the suspense. The oldest boy sits on the steps; he’s been telling us it’s a girl since he knew Mom was pregnant. He jumps when Daddy finally pulls out a bow – a pretty, humongous PINK bow.

The children scream with joy and start dancing about, following Daddy as he plants the stork in the yard and ties on that giant pink bow – announcing to everyone speeding up and down our county road that God had gifted this family with a new beautiful baby girl.

Our Mary.

Our treasure.

It was 24 days before my thirteenth birthday 23 years ago that I first heard my baby sister’s cry over the phone. (No skype or video phone back then.) Mom would bring our new baby sister home the following day all wrapped up in blankets against the South Carolina January cold. We loved, spoiled, and thanked God for our baby.

Our Mary.

Honestly I was an odd big sister; I read tons of parenting books and practiced techniques on Charley, Dorothy, and Mary, so they felt like my children instead of my siblings.

My Baby Sister.

Two days ago at work, just settling in, going happily about my day, I get a call from my Mom that made a part of my heart die. Mary was gone. She didn’t have details, but just that turned me numb. I went into split mode. Six months and ten days ago it was my Daddy; this was ripping my mother’s heart from her chest. Her baby girl was dead. My baby sister was dead. My niece and nephews would never see Mommy come home from work. My boss helped me gather my things and Thea and I started trying to call my rocks (phones are hands-free now so your voice and your car does everything, Daddy couldn’t call us from the road when she was born). I needed to talk. Louis told me he was with her babies. My Mom had gone to tell Becca in person. I cried, I screamed, mad at the waste – I didn’t even know nor care how she died yet. I was so irritated that God had let this happen to us. Mary was just getting on her feet again. She had found a home to rent, she had enrolled the kids in school, she was starting a real job on Monday… her life was moving in a positive direction.

She was 23.

23.

A baby. Her children needed Mommy. But she was gone. Talked with my baby brother. It was a car accident. An accident, a blink of an eye; everything about two families changes.

“Praise you in the Storm” came on Hope FM. Music is my life. God knows me. The next few songs playing while I made the 35 minute ride home seemed like God talking to me through them.

Mary had told me the day before that she kept seeing Daddy with his arms out to her like he was going to hug her. I told her that was God letting Daddy give her a hug while she slept. Now that popped into my head to make another river of tears before I got to the house.

I never understood having to walk into your own house, look your children in the eye, and tell them their Aunt is dead. Two of my daughters were closer to Mary than I was. She had been coming to stay with us for summers when they were young (my Daddy’s idea of “parenting classes”) until she married and divorced… I called her ex.  (They’d been seperated off and on for the last three years but officially divorced on June 11, 2019.)

Death is horrid.

I don’t know how those without God can handle death. My hope is in Jesus and I know I will see those I love again. I know my baby sister is in heaven with my Daddy – her Daddy.

The roller coaster of emotions still races through every vein and artery in my body.

“You have to take care of her,” Daddy is saying – I’m 13 & she’s a bright-eyed 6 months. “Don’t let anything happen to her.”

But I can’t always be there! I can’t always stop bad things! I am so powerless a protector!

I walk in to Mom’s house (Mary was living there until she got her place) and there’s Mandy, Isaac, and JJ looking up at me all excited, “Yea! Aunt Alice!” and they grab sister-cousins and brother-cousin and disappear into the playroom (their bedroom).

Our focus is on these angels now. On helping their guardians (another sister & her husband have custody) as much as we can. On being there to tell them stories about their Mommy. On praying for them. On always being there for them through the life journeys they will take without her.

Oh, God, I know death was never in your plan! It hurts so bad. It rips our soul. I pray constantly that we will know peace. I pray that all those who lose loved ones find peace. I pray for my Mom – God, only you can comfort her. I pray for Mary’s babies.  Wrap your arms around them and whisper to their ears that you are holding them and you will guide them.

Oh God, death is so hard to bear!

Go hug those you love, speak without anger, treasure the time you get with friends and family. Life is a vapor – you never know when it will end.

~Nancy Tart

Behind the Picture: Bitten Heart

What kind of “deep thoughts” about life and love come from a bitten cookie?

February 28, 2019

Behind the Picture! Bitten Heart

It was Valentine’s Day.

I was at work (Playroom not coaching this evening).  Christina and Kimberly had come with me because my workplace is about 12 minutes from my sister’s house versus my house being about 35 minutes distant and Christina wasa going over to babysit her cousins.  (Kimberly is a year older than Livy, her closest cousin, and they LOVE to do anything together, so she jumped at the chance to spend time with her.)

Louis and I never really do anything special on Valentine’s Day as we are usually working it!  Christina considers Valentine’s Day a married-adult-only holiday and the chocolate on sale the 15th as the holiday for her.

We celebrate our love daily.  At least, I feel like we do.  At this time, I was dealing with a pretty bad allergic reaction to the inhaler medication and trying to keep normalcy while managing that and figuring out a new method to help when the black mold in our house messed with my breathing.  Louis was home (supposed to be resting his back) keeping everything in line there.  He’s an amazing chef and always had an awesome lunch /dinner when I came home between jobs.  There’d be a fresh hot dinner, usually just for him and me, when I got home from gym (between 8:30 and 9:30pm so the kids had already eaten).

When my sweet sister picked Christina and Kimberly up, she gave me a yummy, organic, cookie she and her youngest daughter had made.  (It looked so beautiful I almost didn’t want to eat it!)  She is a fitness instructor, nutritionist, and thoughtful, loving sister!

I was at that moment, a very hungry pregnant lady.

While watching the youngest in the playroom, I was studying and working on my journal for Christina (More about that in a later post), and I don’t like to eat around those who don’t have something to eat.  So the heart sat there, calling me, until the boys brought in their own candy and the baby went home.

When I took a bite, instantly my mind thought of how when we give true love (our world uses a heart to symbolize love), it is without expecting anything back.  We expect the recipient of our love to consume that love and we are thrilled if they enjoyed our offering.  My sister and niece happily created a labor of love (the cookies) to selflessly, happily give away without expectation of anything in return.

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Of course, in true loving relationships, both parties give love continually to each other.  In the varying seasons of life, one may seem to be giving more than the other, but true love gives without considering reward.  We expect our “hearts” to be “eaten” by those we give them to.  If we truly love, we are happy, even excited, that our love accepted and enjoyed our labor of love.

Jesus gave his love (no greater love has a man than when he gives his life for another) to us knowing that many would not even accept his gift.  They would live their lives, partake of all the gifts Jesus gave (air to breathe, beauty of creation, life itself, etc…), consuming His labors of love one by one, yet never returning anything.  Some would come to enjoy relationship with Jesus, but He knew some wouldn’t and yet He still poured out His love.

All this ran through my mind at the sight of one bite taken from a cookie.  (So, yes, I took a food picture.) A little deep, maybe, but that’s my writer’s brain.

I plan to continually shower those around me with as much love as I can give, and this picture will remind me to not think of getting anything back – to rejoice always when they accept and consume the love I give.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

Little Cuties

Some of my odd deep thoughts on animals, their importance in children’s lives, and the responsibility and love they teach.

February 16, 2019

Little Cuties

Becky is in love (again)!  Every time there’s a new baby animal around our little farm, Becky falls in love with it.

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This time, it’s our little Guinea Piglets.  This one, named “Grizzly,” is a female who we get to keep (she gets to stay on our little farm)!

So Becky has been making cute little pictures, drawings, and plans for this cute little piglet.  She is a mottled brown color all over with a sweet disposition. (I’m waiting for a video haha!)

All of our piglets and baby animals end up with sweet, loving, friendly dispositions because they are raised by loving caretakers!  The girls make this a solid priority!  No one can mistreat any of the animals in their care, not even by accident.  Lucas wants to play with the babies as soon as they are born, but because he doesn’t know his own strength, he has to wait until they are old enough to not get squished!  (Or has Christina, Mom, or Dad with him.)

Their little piglets are never nippers.  They love to cuddle instead of bite.  What usually causes piglets to be biters is that they have been scared as babies.  If they think fingers are poking tools, they will bite them.  If they know fingers as gentle places to snuggle and get petted, they snuggle instead.  The girls make sure to teach their piglets that fingers are gentle!

Just like in our lives, our experiences shape who we are!  Often, if we feel scared or hurt, we draw ourselves into isolation and distrust others.  If we feel love and affection, we feel safe enough to be ourselves and trust others.

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Where a snuggly, loving animal is, there is a loving caretaker.

In life, we are expected to shower those we are responsible for with affection and keep them safe.  The same as when we are caretaking animals.

I think raising animals is a vital part of growing up; it teaches children responsibility.  It also teaches them a basic understanding of how their influence on others reflects back.  Goodness returns goodness.  Gentleness breeds gentleness.  Love reflects love.  God gave us the animals to tend and love – just as some of us will eventually lead and influence people (parents, teachers, leaders, co-workers, etc.).  Early life lessons from these cute, furry little creatures who are so dependent on their caretakers help to mold a caring tender heart from whom compassion grows.

(Okay, maybe that’s a little too deep of a thought from watching children tend animals, but it’s what I see.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

 

 

 

Valentines Silliness

From my teenager’s claim of the “real holiday” to Becky’s video silliness… a fun post with links.

February 14, 2019

Valentines Silliness

It’s Valentine’s Day.

My girls are busy playing and giggling in the playroom (well, we could technically call it “studying videography,” “creating scripts,” and “video editing,” but that’s homeschool thoughts lol).

What would they be making a video about?

Becky comes out as I finish an amazing lunch (Louis made baby back ribs, corn on the cob, and French fries… and his food is so good!  We did save the busy girls a few ribs… maybe) wearing a huge grin and holding the “play phone” (it has the best video editing software but is one of Louis’ old phones from his work).

They have spent an hour, maybe more, creating a 24 second video with dolls and candy hearts… and the “surprise ending” – which, if you know Becky’s sense of humor, it is not really a surprise.  It is funny.  See it here… (They are “Toy Acts” on YouTube).

“Mom, it took us like 30 minutes to figure out how to work the hearts!”

“Engineering,” Kimberly laughed.

At this, Louis and I laughed too… they are just as crazy as we are.  “Not exactly,” I take a breath, “did you do paperwork as well?”

“Oh yeah,” Becky grins, “we did real school on this holiday.”

“This holiday is only for married people so kids should do school period,” voices Christina (the teenager… go figure).

“All schools, everywhere?” Jaquline sighs, “I did math and language but I thought I could take a break from history.”

So Louis decides we are going to learn about the American adoption of Valentine’s Day as a holiday… (typical home school decision)

Christina, who is going to babysit, hitches a ride with me to work (my gym is closer to her client than our house).  We have Kimberly (she’s going to spend the night with a cousin) with us and the car conversation circles around the baby Guinea Pigs and how Valentine’s Day is seriously only for married couples.  (Christina is still debating this to no one else, as no one else is arguing otherwise.)

“Seriously,” Christina says, “the real holiday is February 15th, when all the candy is half-off.”

Okay, that one I will totally agree with!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Minuit’s Story

This story of Minuit, the Dwarf Holland Lop bunny who became Kimberly’s best gift ever, and how Kimberly fell in love with her “snuggle bunny” gifted by her big sisters!

January 2, 2019

Minuit’s Story

There was a girl, Kimberly, who fell in love in 2013 when she was 6 and a black and white “retired stud rabbit” she called “Mister Walter Rabbit” was left on her family’s back porch.

Mom found out Mr. Walter Rabbit was over 12!  (Rabbits average 10 years.)  That didn’t matter to Kimberly.  She slid down the kiddie slide with him, she put him on his blanket in the baby buggy and dragged it around like a rickshaw, she slept with him, she loved him more than any animal ever before, and with a little help from her oldest sister, took care of him “all by myself!”

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Kimberly and Mr. Walter Rabbit were inseparable for over two years!

Fast forward to 2018 and Kimberly helped build a Guinea Pig cage for the big girls’ three new “girl Guinea Pigs” – but Becky’s angel was actually TobyMac (read more here).  Kimberly’s little Avery love was far older than the lady let us know, and Kimberly only was able to love on Avery for almost a year.

Kimberly’s loss of her “baby” Guinea Pig came only two days after her Grandfather passed away.  Kimberly cried that this would be her saddest Christmas ever.

It wasn’t a great financial year for her parents, so they were very busy with trying to pick up odd jobs and stay working so they could pay bills on time.  Kimberly’s mom listened and tried to console her, but she knew Kimberly would have to heal herself because words don’t fill wounded hearts.  Kimberly’s mom’s Daddy was Kimberly’s Grandfather.

Kimberly’s mom had only been home for a couple hours after a temp job that morning when Becky and Christina, Kimberly’s two older sisters who had been working babysitting and odd jobs too, came excitedly up to Mom.  The younglings were asleep (except the baby brother), and Becky gave Mom $50 and said, “we found this bunny for Kimberly and it’s just perfect and the lady just texted us… they are back from candlelight service and we need you to drive over and pick it up with us.”

Mom was flabbergasted.  The teenagers had researched, found a local bunny breeder with the specific kind of bunnies Kimberly had wanted (Dwarf Holland Lops) and she was holding a black female (the EXACT color and sex Kimberly said she was going to buy “once I save enough”) for them.

IT WAS CHRISTMAS EVE!

Christina babysat, Becky kept Mom awake, baby brother fell asleep in the van, and Mom taxied the proud big sister out to pick up “the perfect gift” and ferry it home.

The big sisters had planned ahead with feed, a very nice cage (a pair of Guinea Pigs came in it, but it was not used now as they had the big run), the bedding, and even a waterer and feeder.   They prepped the bunny cage, set it under the Christmas tree (it was nearly 11pm now!), and tossed a thin sheet over it.  Both were so giddy they could barely sleep!  Because of her black fur, black eyes, and sweetness, this perfect bunny was called “Minuit,” which is French for “Midnight.”

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On Christmas morning, the kids gathered around to open presents and the suspense was just too much for Dad, because Kimberly hadn’t even seemed to notice the animal cage covered in sheet!  Dad said, “Kimberly, that sheet is in the way, please fold it up.”

Kimberly grabbed the sheet and almost screamed!  (Poor Minuit!)  Kimberly was so happy she was in tears!  As Christina and Becky reassured her the 9 week old bunny was hers, she scooped her out of the cage and snuggled her on the couch.  Nothing else mattered at that moment.  Kimberly cried and after everyone had finished adoring the new bunny, she gasped, “Mom, I thought this would be the saddest Christmas, but this is my best Christmas gift ever!”

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Leave it to amazing, thoughtful, caring big sisters to research something you really desire, manage a way to get it for you, and give you the best Christmas surprise you’ve ever had!

I hope you enjoyed this story of Minuit, the Dwarf Holland Lop bunny who became Kimberly’s best gift ever, and how Kimberly fell in love with her “snuggle bunny!”

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

 

Finals Week

Cramming for Final Exams: My thoughts on this week.

December 3, 2018

Finals Week

Whew!  I’m finally on my computer again!

We have one internet computer (mine) and for the past little-over-a-week since the Monday after Thanksgiving, the oldest two girls have commandeered it for uploading papers, researching for reports, and taking online tests.

This is their “finals week” for this semester!   (This semester flew by.)  Christina is also studying for CAP and her Cyber Patriot competitions.

So today, I’m up way before them and attempting to finish a few blog entries before they start this hectic week.  (Honestly, most of their stuff is already done, but they will likely be checking and rechecking before they submit it.)

Finals week reminds me of life.

Sometimes, we seem to get really busy with everything else but don’t study our Bible or spend as much time with God as we should.  Then we get convicted of our mortality (i.e. we’re getting older, we attend a funeral, or we get sick) and we study like we’re unprepared students cramming for finals week.  We should be living our entire life “cramming for finals” regarding studying the Bible, praying, and listening to what God says.  That’s like the prepared student who budgeted their time over the whole semester and as “finals week” comes, they just double check stuff, submit the final draft of xyz report, reread xyz chapters, and go into the exam room with a confidence that they’ve done all they can do.

I want to live my life being prepared for the spiritual things.  This includes: taking time to help others, reading my Bible, applying the Word to my life, teaching where I can, and setting a positive example for those who are watching.  (If you are a parent, at least your kids are watching.  Even if you aren’t directly responsible for littler hearts, there are others watching your life that you don’t even notice.)

Our “final exam” may be a long way off, but isn’t it better to live our life doing our best all the time instead of just at the end?

So, as I listen to the chatter of my girls discussing various student attitudes leading up to and during “finals week,” I am convicted to follow the same advice in life that I gave them regarding school; study thoroughly, spread your assignments out over the whole term, and then you won’t be rushed during “finals week.”

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Dropping In

Lack of my technological connection device led to some deep thought… and a fun visit!

October 29, 2018

Dropping In

I think we’ve all become too preoccupied with technology in many ways.  It invades our lives and sometimes, rather than bringing us closer together (as it was originally meant to do) it appears to spread us farther apart.

Does anyone else remember being a kid and just dropping over to your friend’s house, knocking on the door and asking whatever adult came “may so-and-so come play?”  Today’s youth have their parents text or call said person.  (Or they call/text if they have a phone.)

We’ve lost the connectivity of just dropping in.

I ended up without my phone the other night (had given it to Becky because the house she was babysitting at didn’t have a land line) and wanted to go visit with a friend.

Heavens to Betsy!  I couldn’t text or call her!  (We don’t have a land line phone either – and it wouldn’t have helped me if we did as I saved her number in my phone!)

Could I just stop over?  Drop in?  Did people even do that?  Isn’t that considered rude?

While digesting these thoughts, I realized God was still nudging me to go visit (God had put her on my heart when I was on my way to work – and yes, with no phone) regardless of my lack of ability to warn her of our approach.  (Yes, we are like being descended upon by a flock of chattering geese; all six of us this time because Becky was babysitting and Louis was working.)

As I drove the few miles to her house, my mental debate continued:  I am the type of person who loves to visit with people – they can drop in any time I’m home as long as they don’t mind the almost constant state of dishevel in my home.  We live in it, and unless you catch it on Saturday in the first hour after deep cleaning or after 9pm on a regular night, my house will have sporadic hair on the floor from shedding people and pets, a few cups loitering on the table and counter, dishes in the sink, clean clothes either in a bucket or half-folded on the couch, books and art materials on the dining room table, and toys that aren’t always in the toy room.  But my family lives in my house.  So if you come unannounced, expect it to look lived-in.  If you show up on a planned visit, it will likely be “company clean” (aka, we just scurried around like frightened chipmunks to make it as presentable as possible considering the time of day).  I reasoned that I would just pop by before unloading everyone and if they were busy, if she was resting (she gets precious little sleep), or they weren’t up for company, we’d just deliver the job-related news and enjoy the drive back home.

She was excited we had come!  (Surprise!  I knew we were sisters!)  We unloaded and spent a few hours chatting, playing, and enjoying each others’ company.  We actually talked about this very thing.  She remembered people dropping by her parents’ home almost every day when she was growing up.  They would bring a pie or dish, join for lunch or supper, and enjoy a visit or the rest of the day together.

I dropped by on Grandma Jeanette at least once a week; I knew her schedule and knew she would enjoy the visit.

But with everyone else I’ve felt like everything has to be planned.  It feels impolite to just drop by and bring a gift or deliver some news in person rather than over the digital airwaves.

God knows our hearts.  He knew I would really go and knew my friend wanted some adult conversation (who am I kidding? so did I), it was part of His plan that we fellowship together and encourage each other.

We, as people, need that.

We, as Christians, need that.

We were not made to live in isolation.  Our overly busy world with unrealistic expectations tried to shove aside our human need for simple fellowship – time spent together without an agenda.  Just quality time invested in each other.  Dropping in and feeling comfortable in each others’ spaces.  This is when we do not judge each other by the state of one another’s home but choose to invest in the state of one another’s hearts.  Yes, most of my events with other people will still likely be planned, but I no longer feel restricted to just planned meetings!

I am so thankful for friends that are my sisters.  (Or sisters who are best friends!)  Those who I don’t feel obligated to race around and worry about what they will think of the shoes that didn’t make it to the shoe shelf or the train track loaded with every rolling vehicle we own running from the playroom down the hallway into the living room or the dishes that someone is currently washing.  I am thankful for the freedom to be me around them.  I love being real.  I love feeling accepted as me.  I enjoy learning from those around me.

Thank you, Jesus, for true friends!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Baby Guinea Pig Names

Rebeccah’s creative naming scheme for the cute little Guinea Pig triplets!

September 22, 2018

Baby Guinea Pig Names!

Today we get to introduce our baby Guinea Pigs by name!

Rebeccah decided to use dessert names this time.  Since we won’t have them forever, she gives them “temporary” names that match their color or personalities.  We’re raising them to sell once they are at least six weeks old.  (They will be six weeks old and ready for their forever homes after October 20th.)

So this beauty is “Rocky Road.”  She is the one who looked like a squirrel at birth.  She is a gorgeous mottled brown color.

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This solid tan one is “Custard,” and she follows the dad, TobyMac, all over the run!  She is super cuddly.

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The third one is currently called “Cheesecake.”  He is the only male in the triplets.  He’s a half-and-half mix of Custard and Rocky Road as far as color goes.  He is Jillian’s new baby!

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The girls love being the Guinea Pigs’ caretakers.  They spend a lot of time cuddling and loving on them to make sure they will be just as cuddly and friendly as their parents.  So far, they are thirteen days old and super friendly.

Here is Daddy (TobyMac, big tan blob), and all three triplets!

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Mama (Taylor, big tan/brown/white) takes good care of them!

Near the end of October, we’ll be saying “goodbye” to Rocky Road and Custard as they find loving homes.  One thing I know, these cuddly, snuggly critters will forever leave their tiny pawprints on all of our hearts!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

Hand-Me-Downs

A radio talk show guy’s comment made me ponder my absolute love of hand-me-downs and thrift shops.

September 4, 2018

Hand-Me-Downs

Driving to pick up a long-distance call, I was listening to Christian talk radio.  A guy comes on talking about how he and his family love hand-me-downs.

I can totally relate!  All my life I’ve loved, and lived in, hand-me-downs.  When my kids get a bag of clothes, they all get excited.  It’s sorting, trying on, modeling, and deciding how to “fix” something they love to make it fit (sewing skills).  Anything we can’t use (and everything we grow out of or don’t have room for) gets passed on.   We only allow them to keep what they can fit “in their drawers” and on their bit of hanging rack space.   Rebeccah, who loves shoes, has created some interesting storage adaptations to stretch her allotted space to keep extra shoes.

Kids grow so fast!  At one stage, Kimberly jumped through one full shoe size every month for about six months!  During this same time, Jaquline sprouted through three shirt sizes and Rebeccah’s legs stretched by nearly a foot!

We had quite a few bags of shoes and clothes to give away!  Most, we had received as hand-me-downs but they looked practically new!  Lots of happy kids got to pass around clothes in this growth spurt.  The girls like to plan who can get their clothes – if anyone we know needs them, if anyone is their size and is okay with used clothing, or if they know a friend who “loved” some outfit.  Otherwise, we donate to Alpha-Omega or Betty Griffin Thrift.

The radio talk show guy was mentioning that he was super excited one day because a friend gave him some amazing hand-me-downs that were almost new and stylish.  He was showing one off at work and realized he was wearing the emblem for a college he didn’t attend!  So he almost felt embarrassed telling a coworker it was a hand-me-down.  Then, he stopped.  He said we are to be good stewards and trading clothing around if it still has wear in it is being a good steward of the materials (less waste) and finances (less purchases made).   He told his coworker that the money he and his family saved on clothing allowed them to give more financially to charities they supported.

I had never thought of our hand-me-downs as “good stewardship” in that way!  I have always told others that it saves waste (why throw something away when someone else can use it?) and it stretches our budget.  I never actually thought of what I do with the money I save.

We do give a lot of what we make, sometimes we end up giving more in time than in money, but we still help in a lot of places monetarily.

When we do buy clothes, it’s usually underwear (I do buy that new from target on “clearance,” it seems some character is always going out of style), sneakers, or jeans.  We go to the thrift shops on the day when said clothing is x% off or wait for an end-of-season sale (thrift shops do that too).  So, annually, we spend about $300 on all 8 of us.

I never really thought about how much money I’d spend without hand-me-downs.  Using thrift shop prices (I still wouldn’t buy new): I figured that for each growing child, I’d spend about $80 twice a year, and for each adult, I’d spend about $40 a year (what we already buy from thrift stores can’t be counted as savings).  So for our family, that would be about (160×6)+(40×2)=$1,040 annually in addition to the $300 we already spend!

$1,040 is almost a rent payment.

That’s about three weeks’ of work.

Then I realized that I never buy anything new – furniture, animal cages, books, movies, games, toys, yarns, craft stuff… the list is endless.  Except for food, most cell phones, a few tools, the coffee maker, most mattresses, and one computer, we’ve taken hand-me-downs or bought resale items when it comes to everything else.  And we donate what we no longer need.  Oh yeah, and the drum set was new – Louis got a full size eight piece drum set on a clearance sale for $120 about 10 years ago.

We save for items we want (like our couch).  We had a hand-me-down one that served great for a while, but Louis wanted a big one that all of us could sit on at once and it would double as a kid bed when guests came.  We ended up saving and finally bought a really nice used sectional that had two backless sections that doubled as storage (bonus & I love dual-purpose!) and seats six adults without using the backless parts – it was on clearance at Alpha-Omega Thrift so we spent only $165 of the $200 we’d saved for it.  (Yes, Louis was shopping, so we ended up buying $35 of future birthday gifts while we were there.) And one of my sisters said “let me crash here, this is comfy!”

The radio guy quoted the scripture about “where your treasure is, there your heart is also.”

Yes, my treasures are in my children, my family, my friends, the really important things in life.  Our hand-me-down and thrift-store lifestyle helps me to understand that even though we have some cool stuff, it’s just temporary and I’m not really concerned with it.  I mentally note that I’m wearing sandals from one sister, a skirt Christina grew out of that was a hand-me-down from a friend, and a shirt from another sister… all hand-me-downs!

I’m sure the radio guy is right.  Our family is able to do as much giving as we do because we don’t spend “full retail” on temporary items.  Our treasure is in heaven.  Our treasure is the character growing in our six awesome blessings on loan from God…

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

 

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