Egg Hunt

On Saturday, we took the kids to an Easter Egg Hunt at Child Evangelism Fellowship in Shorewood. The kids were seperated into age groups and rotated stations. There were games, a bible lesson, memory verse with snacks, and of course the egg hunt. Funny how we call it a "hunt" when the eggs are just scattered in the grass, but the kids love it!

The bitter side of farm life...

As every good farmer knows, there are good days and bad days. And he also knows that there's no room for laziness on the farm without consequence. You don't weed the garden, your plants get overtaken. You don't muck out the barn, you walk through slop. You don't feed the chickens, they don't lay eggs. Yesterday was one of those learning days...

We had three does that all gave birth to twins in the past 3 weeks. Each one had a boy and a girl. The little kids are incredibly adorable. We found the first two sets while the babies were still wet and getting dried off by their mothers. One set has long ears, and the other has short ears. The last set was born just this past Monday. She must've had them early in the day because her kids were all dry, fluffy and standing up. The boy was camel colored with a stripe down his back (below) and the girl was black with speckled ears (above).

I checked them out and tried to get them to start nursing. The boy didn't seem so interested, but seemed to have a full belly. The girl was trying to start nursing by herself, so they looked like they would be just fine. Ahhhh, this is where the lazy part comes in....

The next day was one of those nasty, rainy, cold days that we've been having. Other than having Caleb and Seth go out to feed the goats early in the morning, none of us left the house for the rest of the day. At about 9 that night, Paul and I commented how we really should go check on the babies, but we "needed to put our kids to bed", "really didn't want to go out in the rain", and we were just plain lazy. The following morning, Paul and Caleb went out to feed them and found the camel colored boy stuck between the wall and a feeder... dead. It's twin was so weak that it could hardly hold it's head up, much less stand. We brought it in to warm it, and called a friend that has goats. As I sat there with the dying goat in my arms, I cried and thought that this poor little goat is paying the price for my laziness in not going out the previous day to check on them. I learned how to tube feed a baby goat that morning...

After the initial feeding, it was strong enough to stand and looked promising. We continued throughout the day trying our best to get it to remember how to suck out of a bottle, but ended up tube feeding it two more times. The last time it just layed limp on my lap. Very sad. We wrapped it in a towel and put a heat lamp over it. I knew that it wouldn't make it until morning and I prayed that God would forgive my carelessness.

The next morning, life was back to normal. Paul had taken care of it early and we hardly even realized that it was missing. Life and death occur frequently on a farm, and I guess the hardening that comes with farm life is good in some ways. Nathan asked me later, "Where's the baby goat?" I tried to explain... It's gone. It died. He then said, "I don't want it to." Me either, Nathan, me either. After our brief moment of mourning together, we got on with life...

Happy Birthday, Grandma Connie!!

Today is Grandma Connie's Birthday! She's off enjoying the warm sunshine and beautiful, white sandy beaches of Cancun, Mexico. Since we know she checks the blog often... we thought we'd send her a message...

Soooo, how many pictures does it take to get a decent photo of all seven kids? Actually, this was the first picture (it turned out the best).... but, you'll notice Noah's face is scrunched up in a "I'm smiling, but I really want to cry" kind of look. Just before we took this one, Nathan shoved Noah off the table onto the floor. Ahhhh, brotherly love...

Caleb's Baptism

Caleb decided to be baptized on Sunday, April 3rd. Baptism is simply a public demonstration to show what has happened in their spiritual life. It symbolizes the burial of the "old" life and the birth of their "new" life in Christ. Caleb has a visible desire to know God more, and know more about Him. I love his ever-learning, teachable heart. When asked why he wanted to be baptized, he simply stated, "Because in the Bible it says, 'Believe and be baptized.'" That's as black and white as it can get. God says to do it, so we're supposed to do it. He's been like that from the time he was very young; things are either black or white. Not much room for gray. At 4 or 5, he would watch the speedometer as I drove and remind me when I was going over it. The law is the law, right? Even before that, he would tell Grandpa Harold not to "joke" because it says in the Bible not to lie to others and then say, "I was only kidding". Yep, it DOES say that. Maybe part of that was how I was raising him, but much of it just came already programmed. That's how God wired him.

I distinctly remember (which is an amazing feat considering my ability to remember things) where we were when his serious little heart wanted to know how to go to heaven. He was about 4 years old and we were sitting on the stairs of our old house. Now that I think about it, that was the very spot that I remember getting out the Bible when I was pregnant with him and looking up what Caleb meant. Caleb (in the Bible) was a man "who followed wholeheartedly after God". I loved the name, and I loved the meaning even more. After naming him, we would often pray that God would make him into a man "who follows Him wholeheartedly". Now we include our other boys in that same prayer, but that prayer began with the meaning of Caleb's name. It's been evident throughout his life (so far), that God is fulfilling that desire in my (and Paul's) heart. We're excited to see how God is going to use him as he matures.

Caleb with Grandpa and Grandma Larson (top),

and with Grandpa and Grandma Pemble (below)

Seriously??

Paul and I just had our 13th anniversary in late March. (13 years and 7 kids... I'd say those were pretty productive years :) Well, we decided to head down to Paul's parents lakehouse for an extended weekend. All the kids (except Selah, of course) were split between the two grandparents. Have I mentioned how THANKFUL I am to have both sets of grandparents living nearby and so willing to spend time with their grandkids? Well, I am (very much so!).

We took Selah on the 8 hour drive south to the Ozarks, and had a very relaxing time cuddled in front of their fireplace doing absolutely nothing. No chores, no "Mommy, watch me do this", no responsibilities at all. It was odd. (Sidenote... when you go from having 7 kids to only having one 3-month old, it's much like having no kids...) Needless to say, it was nice to be able to stay up late, sleep in, cook whatever we want without any picky eaters :), and clean up ONLY after ourselves.

On Sunday night, we attempted to go out for dinner. To avoid the $2.00 toll going into the bigger town, we went about 20 minutes in other direction to a smaller town to find a local spot to eat. Little did we know, in smaller Missouri towns EVERYONE closes early on Sunday. When I say early, I mean that when we arrived at the town at 6:00, they were all closed. And when I say "everyone", I mean everyone except the local bars. After driving on for another 30 minutes, we found absolutely nothing and decided to head back. On our way through, we saw "Vinny's", a house converted into a bar/restaurant, and, although it looked a bit shabby, it had a bunch of cars in the parking lot. We had skipped lunch and were getting very hungry by now, and being that it was only 6ish, I thought at least some of the people would be there for the food (the sign read "13th Anniversary" out front, so that must be a sign, right?). After having a little trouble finding which door to go in, we stumbled upon a bunch of tables, a waft of cigarette smoke, and a little old guy eating soup. After a bit, he noticed us and gave us a faint "hi", and went back to eating his soup. The owner finally showed up and, after realizing we were actually there to eat and not bringing our baby to the bar, told us to find a seat amidst all the empty tables then left. We walked in about two feet to sit at a table, gagged some more on the smoke smell, and walked out realizing that the 20 cars parked outside were there for something other than food. Bummer. On we went without finding one open (and presentable) restaurant, past the lakehouse, paid the $2.00 toll and went to a "real" town to eat. So much for saving gas and money...