Yesterday was an important day for Dreamboat and me — our 9th wedding anniversary.

Doesn’t seem possible that it’s been NINE short years since we nearly burnt the church down, but then again, quite a lot has happened for us in those nine short years!

In honor of our big day, I’ll list nine of my favorite things about my husband, in no particular order:

1. I love that you’re endlessly entertaining. I cannot count the number of times I’ve laid in bed shaking and silently laughing after you’ve talked in your sleep! “I was wrong…” Priceless!

2. I love that you take your responsibility as a husband / provider / protector / leader of our home seriously. Even if that sometimes mean hanging a deer carcass in our garage.

3. I love that you always set a good example of manliness for our boys, and expect feminity from out girls. I love that you gush over how pretty our girls look when they’re all done getting dressed. The approval you provide will mean they won’t need to seek it from other (sleezeball, scumbag) boys later.

4. I find the amount of patience you have to be astounding. Whether you’re teaching our boys to hunt, showing out girls how to curtsy (really!), instructing a squard of Honor Guard police officers how to march correctly, or teaching an entire team of T-ballers how to catch pop-ups, you’re an inspiration to me.

5. Though you’re definitely a man’s man, I love that you’re not too manly to show our boys how to appreciate other things. They see you sew with my sewing machine, play the piano at church, and watch musicals. I like that.

6 I love that you still get crazy excited each time we find out we’re expecting. Our kids will never doubt that they are loved and wanted.

7. I also like it that you entertain my hours of fretting over the perfect baby names. I like it even more that you have opinions on those names, and are willing to (sometimes) compromise. AND that you’re willing to use the insane nicknames I give our kids.

8. I love the way you take care of me. I always feel safe and secure when you’re around. Even though I’m sure that any one of my pregnancy-related ailments could kill me, I know in my heart of hearts, you’d never really let that happen. Have we really had nine pregnancies in nine years?!

9. I love the Christ-like love you display every day. Sacrificial, unconditional, endless… Sometimes I even think you’re all-knowing.

I love you, Babe. Hope there’s 90 more years!

*Can you name that movie?

For once when I’m posting about “big game” it’s not baseball. It’s actually not even technically “big” game, but for my kids, hunting is a BIG DEAL!

Somehow we arrived at the idea that age 6 is old enough to go along with Dad and just learn to sit and be quiet during hunting season. Last year was Andy’s first year. This year, it’s Brady’s.

There’s a competition going on to see who SEES to most deer. Nate has taken the boys out together and also each separately.

Here are some photos from the first day they went out, altogether:

Brady’s rookie season.

Two VERY excited boys.

My three hunters… I stayed home with the gatherers.

Ferris (and Connor) is really into drawing these days. She draws on paper, envelopes, paper plates, walls… Whatever she can get her hands on. She loves it when I draw with her:

“Mama, draw me wiff curls… And draw my leggins!”

Her favorite subject to draw is our family. Right now, we mainly do stick people (because detailed family portraits would take me all day!) She has a unique way of asking me to draw us though:

“Mama, draw Daddy and a lot of ‘em.”

Apparently there are too many of us for her to name individually.

We went on a field trip with a group of families, mostly from our church. There were about 28 kids in all and up to 10 adults (some had to arrive late.) Everyone was really well-behaved. We had a blast.

Can you guess where we went:

Did you know that October 15th (today) is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day?

I didn’t either. Apparently, it was declared as such in 2006.

I had my first miscarriage in 2006, in June. The second was the past June.

I’m not writing this the be a downer or to dwell in depression… Rather to rest in the peace that, as a Christian, I’m certain I’ll get to meet Baby D and Baby H again someday.

I wholeheartedly believe children are a gift from God. Knowing that, it’s hard for me to question God’s choice of timing when he takes my babies home to heaven.

Yes, it’s devasting and difficult. Incredibly so!

Yet, I’m so thankful for the blessed hope of one day meeting my babies in heaven! My other children all know about their siblings in heaven. What a reunion we’ll have someday.

So, while I’m sad to not get to watch little Dominic Ryne or Dayna Hope and little Hunter Thomas or Hayley Noelle grow up, I rest in the peace of knowing they’re in the presence of Jesus.

Ever since I was pregnant with Andy, I’ve clung to this verse: “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.” (III John 4)

I pray that all my children will come to know Jesus and walk in His truth.

I rest in knowing two of them are already walking with Him.

The other day, I was in the boys’ room putting Grayson’s laundry away. Ferris came in to “talk to” her fish.

She climbed up on a toy horse so she could be at eye level with the fish tank. She excitedly pointed out HER fish to me (as though I wasn’t with her when we bought it.)

I smiled at her.

She then picked up one of Andy’s mystery “chapter” books. She then announced to me, “I cans read to dem!”

She then turned the book to face the aquarium and said, “Once upon a time…”

Our kids get along amazingly well. Yes, there is an ocassional “it’s mine and he took it,” but for the most part, there’s a lot of respect for one another.

I like it that way.

Lately, though, a small dividing line has been drawn. The three “big” boys have joined forces and started a club. They wear backpacks and meet in a wooded portion of our yard. They are the “Boys Rule and Girls Drool–except for Mom–Club.”

I can’t help but laugh.

Today at lunch, Evan was making a comment about when she’s married. I’m not sure how it came up, but Andy (now the wise old age of 7) offered this advice to his little sister:
“Kissing girls is gross. Unless it’s your wife. Kissing your wife is cool!”

I like it like that.

Grayson has been reaching new milestones lately.

He just got his 7th tooth.

He says Mom, Dad, Da (dog) and Kkk (Drink.) He’s said Bo (Connor’s nickname) once or twice, but we don’t know if that’s intentional or not! He also says HOT in reference to the oven.

He doesn’t really crawl at all anymore — or even toddle. He walks. Doesn’t even walk like John Wayne anymore! In fact, he’s starting to run.

Every morning, Andy gets Grayson out of bed before I have the privilege. The best part is that when I come upstairs and open the door, Grayson perks up, yells, “Mom! Mom!!” and runs to me with his arms up. It’s the best part of waking up.

I’m not trying to ignore you all… Really.

Life is just complicated sometimes. Homeschooling, laundry, graphic design, starting a homeschool group, diaper changes… you’ve heard it all before!

The nice thing is this: the morning sickness has not been that terrible this time!!

Can I get an AMEN and a hearty PRAISE THE LORD?!

I’m now already at about week 16. I haven’t gotten sick in more than a week! For those of you that know me, you know how huge that is! For my other children, I was sick almost every day for nine long months!

I might be worried if I hadn’t already seen the squirmy little iBaby in four different ultrasounds! (I volunteered my belly for a crisis pregnancy center’s training.) I’m also feeling movement like crazy, which sure provides peace of mind.

Anyway, I have 8 million graphic design projects going on. Must… get… back… to… them.

I’m sicker than a dog with a nasty sinus infection.

My boys were bummed to learn that we’d still be doing school though. I feel too cruddy to do anything but sit, so school it is!

“Man, you’re sick and we STILL have to do school?!”

Yes. Then I reminded them that they’d get some time off in March when their newest sibling arrived.

“Yeah! That doesn’t happen in ‘real’ schools, does it, Mom?”

Indeed, it does not.