On January 4th, a beautiful day with misty rainshowers threatening the gorgeous parade ground at Camp Blanding, I watched both of my cadets march in their pass and review (ceremony parade at the end of the 2019-2020 winter encampment). I almost cried two years ago when it was just Christina. As I watched this day, I was overwhelmed with pride and a bit of anxiety.
Kimberly, short blondie (about middle in each picture); in her barracks, AF Blues, ABUs
Kimberly is twelve. My spunky little fireball has taken her future by the horns the last two semesters and spent her twelfth birthday, as she’d planned it for almost two years, attending her first Civil Air Patrol meeting as a cadet. I’m not sure Mom (me!) is ready for her to take on so much independence just yet. I’m missing my snuggly, grinning, dog-wrestling toddler who used Sheba as a pillow-pet before we knew those toys existed.
Christina was OIC of food services. (In English, your know, civie-speak, please?) That means she was the basically the kitchen manager for encampment. I’m sure it was far more detailed and with at least some oversight, but that’s the break-down bare-bones version of her staff role this time. I’m sure, based on these pictures, that she is fairly comfortable giving orders.
Christina is far left in both pictures. Winter Encampment 2019/2020
Moments
like this both amaze me and, honestly, almost scare me.
How can my
babies be so mature already?
How did 16
and 12 years flash by?
Life goes
by so quickly. I’ve learned to just
release and enjoy. Watch them grow and
smile as they fly. I love learning the
young women they are becoming! Thank
you, Jesus, for the opportunity to be a mom.
Thank you for Christina and Kimberly and for the time I’ve had with
them. I pray for them daily.
I pray as
they soar. I pray they keep their eyes
on you, Jesus, reach for the stars, determine to achieve what appears
impossible, and reach down to help others on their climb.
I’m sure that’s just the misty rain in my face… or are those bits of joyful tears?
Parade is done, rain begins to fall, and we wait in the van for the cadets to change into civies for the trip home.
“Freedom!” yelps the stranger with a bag; “Mom, no pictures,” but she smiles anyway.
Now I get to hear their challenges, thrills, new experiences, friends, and new goals they’ve faced and discovered on the long ride home. Homecomings. I am beginning to understand my parents’ tears on our Christmas surprise (when almost all of us showed up together!)…
Once there was a little girl who
loved dogs and prayed for a little black dog.
Her mom had already agreed to take the least wanted puppy from a litter
about to happen. Her mom prayed the
puppy was black.
A few weeks later, Mom got a call – the mommy dog had shoved one baby puppy away and it needed special care. Mom said, “we’ll take it” and the tiny “runt of the litter” fluffy puppy came to her furever home. That was February 25, 2008, almost 12 years ago. And yes, other than a white spot on her tummy that grew to cover her belly and some brownish tan on her paws, the puppy was black!
Sheba with (L-to-R) Kimberly (Sheba loved snuggling on the couch), Jaquline (Sheba would sleep on the walker to keep Kimberly and Becky from “racing” the baby around!), and Thea.
Sheba became the Tart family’s
perfect dog. She loved the three little
humans who grew up with her. Kimberly
was only five months older than Sheba!
Sheba ran around, grew up, played, made doggie friends, herded chickens,
mothered lost dogs who wandered in, loved on chickens when the Tarts lived on
their farm, snuggled with baby chicks, guinea pigs, the two rabbits, and Christina’s
baby puppy, Prim.
Sheba had a wonderful doggie
life.
L-to-R: Sheba with Jaquline (Jaquline insisted Sheba loved “Snow Dogs”), Kimberly had “dressed” Sheba in a beaded necklace she made, Sheba’s favorite sleeping position on any couch.
L-to-R: Sheba in the playroom, Sheba loved the tile floor in that house!, Mom said “no more movies” and the girls couldn’t find the remote… (Sheba had it!) Sheba loved to sleep on that table for some odd reason.
(top) Sheba with puppy Primrose, (bottom)Sheba with Lady (one of our doggie friends), (right) Thea climbed up on the couch to snuggle Sheba, who was sleeping in her new, weird, favorite position.
L-to-R: Baby Lucas, Jillian, and Sheba at the end of the bed (right next to the crib), Sheba’s favorite spot in that garage (next to the food bag!), Thea rubbing Sheba (she loved her soft fur and had just learned “dog!”)
Last year she started to slow down a
bit. In December of this year, she
started feeling sick some days. The vet
said her stomach was failing. Vitamins and special food helped a little. She wasn’t able to digest all her food and
she would get skinny and we had decided once she was in pain, we would put her to
sleep. None of us wanted to lose our
Sheba. She loved being outside when it
was cool because she was bushy furry (we
teased she was an a/c dog because she slept on one of the air conditioning vents
in summer and almost refused to go outside in summer daylight!). On cooler days, she would play on our run
while we were outside. Christmas Day it
was gorgeous. Sheba said hi to both
Grandmas when they visited and ran outside almost the whole day in gentle cool
breezes. We were petting and snuggling
with her by turns. She sleeps a lot since
she’s been over 10 so when she curls down to sleep we usually let her rest. We were enjoying a Christmas campfire and
telling stories. Louis went inside to
get some water. I knew Sheba was fully
asleep when Louis stopped by her longer than just to stroke her and turned his
flashlight on. I handed Thea to Mom and
we verified that she was fully gone. I stroked her soft, fluffy coat one last
time before I wrapped her in her blanket.
The older girls came out to
help. We buried her and said goodbye to
our best furry friend. Sheba had spent
more time with me than any other dog.
She was our first family dog. My mom said, “Sheba probably found Boompa
and Aunt Mary in heaven.” Christina laughed, “oh, yes, she instantly found Aunt
Mary!” Because every time Mary would stay with us, Sheba would seek her bed out
and snuggle with her – I’d be like, “no dogs in the bed, Mary,” and she’d
giggle, wrap Sheba in a bear hug and say, “but she’s a big, fluffy stuffed
animal!” and Sheba would give us the sweet sad eyes so she’d get to sleep with
Mary. Sheba always snuggled up with
anyone who wasn’t feeling well – she always seemed to know before we did.
Kimberly said she had prayed that
Sheba would get to run loose outside, thinking of us having a fenced yard at our
new house, but Sheba had been running loose anytime she was outside lately and stayed
near the house because she didn’t feel good.
Louis set candles out on her grave
for the night. We’ve planted flowers
now. Each pet we’ve lost, we’ve buried
and planted a tree over it as a reminder. Louis called Sheba our perfect dog. That she was.
The Garden Bed we planted for Sheba
Thea’s first Christmas was Sheba’s
last. Our furry family treasure went to
heaven, “raced over the rainbow bridge” as Jillian said, after spending a full
Christmas Day with her family and “Grandmas.” It had been Sheba’s favorite
outside day, gentle cool breezes with a mild, wintery temperature where she’d
stand, face in the wind and wag that super fluffy “duster” tail. I’m going to
miss my Sheba. Two months shy of 12 full
years from her February 25th birthday – rather long for a dog. Goodbye, my sweet, lovable, playful furry
baby; I love you Sheba, run free and fast with no leash and no borders! Your
human family will miss you!
The girls shifted their beds around so that the Playroom is now the sleeping quarters for Kimberly, Jaquline, and Jillian and the Barracks is sleeping quarters for Christina, Becky, and Primrose. This shift was so that the barbies, legos, and small toys like polly pockets and art stuff could be in the Playroom while the Barracks holds all of the toddler toys that cannot fit in a child’s mouth.
They are planning for Thea to be running around already. (Mommy is not ready just yet!I plan on being in Baby Stage a little longer!)
Lucas was bunking with Christina. But then we got a toddler bed! It needed some repair (but a few wooden dowels and extra bolts made a solid fix!) and we had to dig around for toddler bed sheets, but now Lucas has a big boy bed!
Sheba thinks this is her spot to share with Lucas.
Lucas was so excited to have his Star Wars blanket on his very own big boy bed! Last year, he didn’t want anything to do with a special trundle bed so we gave it away.
As we grow, sometimes the things we brushed away turn into the things we love ~ strange thoughts, I know. But that’s what goes through my head when I watch my little love snuggle into his big boy bed under his blanket; he has grown just a little more independent.
A birth story of our little angel (and a slideshow of proud siblings & family!)
February 22, 2019
The Story of Baby Thea
If you’ve been following my blog, you know I was growing my seventh little angel.
Today, I get to write the story of her arrival!
On February 19th, a beautiful Tuesday morning, my day started normally. During my 32 minute drive to work, the Baby started thinking there was not enough room and my body did the stretching contractions (Braxton-Hicks) that is very normal for me in the last month or two before birth. I didn’t think much of it, really. After my boss left for appointments, one of my office companions, Lily, a beautiful brown and white pittie belonging to my boss, started laying at my feet and wouldn’t let me go anywhere without her! This was a bit of a warning to me because Sheba (my Aussie mix) always does this to me when I’m in active labor. I left at one (normal time) to get to Christina and then my midwife appointment.
Christina had been babysitting, finished some errands at the college so she would be ready for the summer semester, caught the bus to 207 (the road I take into town), and was waiting for me. Along the way, my midwife texted to reschedule the appointment to Thursday and I laughed during my voice-text because I was very tired and that worked great for me. I added, “or when Baby is ready,” as a joke because my babies have all come on or after the due date. Everyone had been rooting for a February birth since the official “due date” was February 24th, and except for Lucas, my wee ones were between 9 and 13 days “overdue” so I usually ignored the due date and just gave a general month (in this case, I’d been saying March).
I got Christina, teased her about driving (she’s recently received her learner’s permit), and we headed home. Sheba was acting odd, I was starving; Louis had made lasagna Monday so I ate a huge plate and took a short nap.
When I got to gym with Becky (her class is on Tuesday, the others are all Wednesday), the contractions were still there, but, like I said, that is normal for me. It had been happening off and on already for about a week and a half, so I just went about work because they were easy to ignore. Some friends and I chatted about babies as I was leaving, and someone said, “you know about your body by now, right?” I laughed, “each is different, but I’m still thinking March.”
Wow, was I wrong.
As Becky texted Christina and Louis to tell them we were off & headed to pick up Christina at CAP, Becky said, “Mom, I can’t drive us home, but if the baby keeps contracting like that, maybe Christina can.”
We laughed. Part of the driving restrictions on a learner’s permit forbid night driving for the first few months; but we always teased Christina that she’d have to drive home in the dark if I was in labor.
Home, I was starved, but my belly felt full after four strawberries. I took a shower and crashed. I kept waking up every couple hours, but I’m a light sleeper so that’s also normal. Each time, though, I noticed contractions. I’d check my phone just to see what time it was. Midnight. 1:40. 2:30. 3:50. At almost 4, I realized I was sweating and I decided to wait for fifteen minutes (so the water softener cycle was finished) and take a shower. The next glance at my watch showed 4:19. I took a shower and the first contraction after the water hit was very strong. I felt movement inside me. “Wow, you sure you’re ready?” I asked. I was sure that was just a fluke and usually the warm water calms contractions down. When the next two made my legs feel like jelly, I got out of the shower and crawled back into bed. The phone said 4:35. I wasn’t about to wake anyone or call Misti for three oddly strong contractions.
I tried to sleep. I had about two hours before I had to get ready for work.
At somewhere before 6am, I tried getting ready for work. I had to stop and breathe through contractions that were easy to time and I felt the baby moving slowly down inside of me. I was about to wake Louis but ended up stretching through a contraction. We have a mind link, I think. Louis woke up as I was stretching. He goes into mega cleaning and question mode. This is his serious mode. He has been through it enough to know we were going to have a baby this morning – or at least today. He told me to call Misti, he woke the kids up to help clean (normally, we clean before bed, but they had been in a non-cleaning mood the previous night), and directed the house with efficiency. I was restless, so kept walking around in between. Christina and Becky didn’t want to get out of bed. I went into the barracks to find out why not.
“Mom! You can’t have the baby in here!” Christina shrieked, covering her head.
“So, get up please and help Daddy with cleaning. Y’all should have done that last night. Once you finish, you can go back to bed, but he’s really stressing about the house and people coming so please help.”
No answer. I could feel another contraction creeping up. “Okay, you have about 20 seconds before I get another contraction and…”
Christina bolted, “MOM! I’m up! I’ll help Dad! GET CONTRACTIONS OUT OF MY ROOM!”
Becky was up too. Kimberly was definitely awake. Mission accomplished. I went back to the kitchen table. My “leave” alarm reminded me to text or call my boss. 6am though, I figured I should just text – plus I didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment.
Misti showed up (can’t remember if the house was clean, but based on the voices and giggling and a movie being on, I’d guess it was straightened). Mom was on the way, she told us she had to be at one of my brother’s promotions at 8am. The girls had turned on “The Two Towers” and as Louis walked by during the Uruk-hai production scene and he ordered, “Turn that off, you can see a real birth soon enough.” I can’t remember if the result was “Wild Kratts” or “Dumbo” but there was something far less messy on the tv a minute later. (I did hear one of the teenagers or preteens quip, “Mom will sound like an orc.” Louis and I laughed. We’re nerds.)
By 8:30, I was immune to the world. I heard Misti’s voice, smelled Louis (I was leaning on him), and faintly heard background voices. I was focused on this job.
8:42am and our little one came into the world, veiled. Misti took the bag off and the Baby screamed to test the limit of her lungs! (We didn’t know Baby was a “she” just yet!) Baby opened her eyes fully and stared up at me. Then she screamed to rattle the roof again. The dogs were barking. We discovered our Baby was Thea!
Welcome to our crazy world, Theadora Taliesyn Tart. You are loved and cherished!
Theadora (after her great-grandfather Melvin Theodore Pearson) means “gifted by God” and Taliesyn (feminine form of your grandfather’s favorite character from a Celtic legend) means, “one with the shining brow, one who sings wisdom.” And Daddy chose the nickname “Thea” because he likes it. (Your uncle texted that he’d call you “3T” – yes, Daddy searched for two “T” names we both liked!) I kept both names the same length, since that’s what we’ve done – all of the children’s names have the same number of letters in the first name and middle name. Theadora 8 letters, Taliesyn 8 letters – told you we are nerds.
Mom (Grandma Joanne in the pictures) came back with a shower of baby girl goodies! (And, yes, this is why she’s in such cute clothes once we managed to get them on her!)
Theadora, I pray you always feel the love of your family as you wiggle your way up to adulthood. I pray you feel the warmth and see the light of God’s love reflected in the faces of your sisters and brother, mother and father, aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins. We have accepted the honor of being your guides to lead you to Jesus, to raise you in love, and to give you room to find, develop, and follow the passion of life God has rooted within you. You are a daughter of God, a precious gift to us, and chosen to bring light through your smile.
Becky said I can’t post a baby story without her pictures! So here is a little slideshow:
Lucas kept trying to “pet” and “kiss” Baby Thea
Christina & Thea (oldest & youngest)
Lucas said “you are my love, Baby Thea!”
Grandma Joanne & Thea
Christina and Becky are already vying for who gets the baby
Yummy harvest for us, fried treats for our doggies!
August 4, 2018
Yummy Harvest
Primrose (Christina’s 4-year-old Aussie mix) is waiting by the stove while we walk in and out. Nothing is cooking there yet, but she knows this is harvest day, and she knows Rebeccah’s special treat is to fry up livers in butter. Mom likes them, but it started as a treat for the doggies.
Funny how they know. Sheba (our family’s 11-year-old Aussie mix) pretends she’s too old to move and half-wags her tail from her favorite spot in the house – curled up on top of the air vent in the den. She strategically puts herself in the room where most people congregate, next to the shoe shelf so as they are leaving she can shoot them with sad eyes to see if she can guilt anyone into talking her outside. Sheba perks up each time one of the kids comes in the back door, but since no one is carrying the big canning pot yet, she knows it’s still sleeping time.
In I come with the canning pot – Louis has decided to barbecue the chickens, but only three fit on the grill, so the fourth and all the trimmings are in that pot. Usually, all the chickens are in the pot to be dissected, wrapped, and put away. The gizzards and hearts are wrapped and frozen (I’ll fry them next time we have fried chicken). Today’s harvest was tender young chickens and the preferred method of cooking is grilling or baking, whole. So the fourth is wrapped and frozen. This leaves the trimmed skins and livers. The skins are saved for broth (I’ll add the bones and whatever trimmings from the birds being barbecued and simmer with some seasonings, this round should net about 2 to 3 quarts of “concentrated” broth.)
Rebeccah takes control of the livers. Now Sheba and Prim are sitting by the stove, wagging their tails and almost begging. They know that stuff is going in their bowl. Livers don’t freeze well. They are best fresh. The only one in the household who likes liver is Mom (me), but I don’t like to eat a ton of them. So I’ll take a few ounces and leave the rest for the pups.
Finally! Rebeccah is done (it really only takes about three minutes, but looking at the dogs, you’d think they were waiting for years). She rinses the pan in just enough water to make sure all the yummy goop is washed into the dog bowls and splits the contents of the pan between the two dogs. They’ll get all the skins and other meat bits off the bones after I’ve boiled and strained the broth the next day too, but fried livers are their every-two-month treat, and they LOVE it.
Our theory is that Prim realizes the chickens are the liver treat source and therefore protects them jealously from any other animal – but she’s never hurt a chicken because she likes the finished product.
Yummy barbecue for us, yummy treat for our canine protectors.
Sometimes we seem to pick up on the neatest of hidden gems in movies. Just some thoughts from a discussion about a movie we watched!
January 10, 2018
God is Everywhere
We usually talk about movies after watching them. The girls were discussing a movie while sitting at the “stone table” (what the little girls call the stone bench and table they get to do school at while waiting for the big girls at college) today.
The exchange from this movie being discussed goes generally like this:
“Don’t rob me of my hate…”
“…God has given us a second chance. Don’t slap His hand away.”
“God? Can’t I ever get away from Him?”
“No. God is everywhere, even in a kiss…”
And so this story that, as a novel, is a story of bitter vengeance and betrayal becomes morphed for the big screen into a story of forgiveness and God’s mercy.
Jaquline says, “I like how God is everywhere. The Bible says He’s in the darkest valley and the tallest mountain. Is God really in a kiss?”
“I think so,” Kimberly pipes up, “God also gives life and love.”
“So if God is in everything, do squirrels get married?” Jillian asked. (She loves the Landmark Tribe squirrel stories, and in those, the squirrels are married.)
“God is in everything; He created everything,” Jaquline sighed, “but I don’t know if squirrels get married for real. Dogs don’t but when we are feeling sad, God uses Prim’s and Sheba’s kisses to make us happier.” (Prim and Sheba are our dogs.)
“So God is even in doggie kisses!” laughed Jillian.
I smiled. The sun that warms us, the air we breathe, the water, plants, animals; each spark of life is a gift from God. “God is in everything” isn’t just a movie line; it’s real. Sometimes we try to make God so distant when in reality He’s inside us, touching everything within and around us. No, we can never get away from Him. That’s the beauty and mystery of His love. Why would the God who spoke the universe into existence want to “chase after” each of us? God is in everything so that everything we see, feel, and love reflects His love for us. In this way, all of creation sings God’s glory!
Many dogs have lived with us for various amounts of time (we’ve fostered quite a few). Each one leaves their unique pawprints on our hearts. Since dogs tend to single out one person to bond with, each one “belongs” to one of the girls for their stay. They sometimes refer to our dogs as “home school doggies” because they are part of our “home school family.”
Rebeccah had a cute Black Mouth Cur named Lady. Lady loved the girls so much that when they were doing school, she would wiggle around their feet and periodically whine. We’d say, “Lady, hush! They’ll come play in a bit.” She would wag her tail (which wagged her entire body in waves) and give us “the puppy look.” Lady weighed about eighty pounds and was still less than a year old! One of our neighbors said she looked like a deer! (She jumped like a deer too; dead stop with a 5-foot fence in front of her? Boing! She cleared it no problem.) She was friendly and loved everyone – especially other puppies smaller than she. (Since she was bigger than most of the children, I’m sure she considered them puppies.)
Sheba thinks she is the queen (our family dog who was 7) so she just slept on the couch during school work time.
Lady would climb in Rebeccah’s chair. She thought she was human. Rebeccah would occasionally dress Lady up. One day I hear “Mom! Come look at your newest student!”
Around the corner from the kitchen I spy our big human-sized dog standing with her back feet on the floor, left paw on the table, and right paw in Rebeccah’s hand with a pencil between her toes. (The DOG IS ON MY TABLE! But I laugh instead, because that look is hilarious – and yes, we caught it on camera!)
“Mom, Lady is doing my schoolwork today.” Rebeccah says. “I hope she’s good at fractions!”
I love the fact that happy interruptions (like an impromptu photography session, discussion of dog’s feet and toes and how different they are from human digits, or recess to rub their dog’s belly) can pop up and get included in their day.
By the way, we were doing “bookwork” after dark (about 7 in winter) because the day was just too pretty to stay inside. (We’re in Florida; winter = 60 degrees at noon) There is so much to be learned from events in our daily lives. We watched different Florida birds that morning and the explorers stumbled upon the deer thicket in the wild deep brush behind our house. So we looked up birds for identification and researched deer. (Surprisingly, the movie Bambi has a lot of truth about deer in it.)
One stretch we had bookwork “paused” while we spent extra time loving on a litter of puppies and their momma until each found their “fur-ever” home. The girls named and loved every one of those pups. They researched and learned a lot about life from those little sweeties.
Today, our two family dogs observe “bookwork” each in their own way (none as active a participant as Lady was):
Prim (one month shy of 3 years old) curls at Christina’s feet, yipping if her master’s bookwork takes too long.
Sheba still sits like a queen (she’s 10) on the couch, pretending she’s old and weak. (But open the gate and she’ll rejuvenate to 10-month-old-puppy and sprint outside so quickly that only Daddy or Kimberly can grab her!)
I’m so thankful for the “home school doggies” God puts with us to learn from and smother with love.
