To Teachers, Moms, and my High-School Crazies

I am writing this in response to a  post beautifully written by a mom of six kids. She is overwhelmed by the amount of school supplies and back to school clothes she needs to buy when the year starts. She is stressed at the paperwork that needs to be filled out. But she remembers that the teachers are working just as hard and loving on her kids almost as much as she does.

It's beautiful. Read it.

http://alamocity.citymomsblog.com/2015/08/20/dear-teachers-youre-not-fooling-me/#lightbox/1/

Dear Loving Moms and My High School Crazies,

I am a mom of two little boys, and a wife of an amazing elementary school teacher, and an intervention reading and writing teacher to about 25 high-schoolers, and a case-manager for 27 IEPs.  I'm a little overwhelmed this time of year.  I read this article when I woke up at 5 am to feed my second boy who is 7 weeks old today. It's Saturday now, but I won't be sleeping in tomorrow, even if my boys let me. In a few hours we are going to watch one of my 5 siblings play in his first scrimmage as a college athlete at The University of the South. The baby just spit up and peed through his diaper at the same time so I gotta pause to take care of that and hope he goes back to sleep...

I'm back. And he did. He is a much better sleeper than his brother is or ever was.

I haven't spent hours at the store picking out cute stuff to make my classroom a little homier because we don't have a "cute classroom" envelope in our strict envelope budget system. My white brick walls are covered with taped pictures of the people I love and articles about the importance of not dropping out of high school. Unfortunately, against my best wishes and repeated pep talks and words of encouragement, some of them will drop out anyways. And even though it was a choice they made on their own, I still feel like I did something wrong. And I pray that what happens in that article won't happen to them. I pray they won't be statistic again. My walls don't have laminated posters of famous people with well-known quotes on them, because of that whole envelope system thing. And contrary to popular belief, none of the state's education budget goes to filling my room with posters, or even books for that matter. My joke of a classroom library contains books I loved when I was my students' age, and love to read again now, that would otherwise be on my shelf at home for my boys. I bought them in college while taking my favorite class ever, children's lit, back when I didn't need an envelope system. My job was running for the University of Tennessee-Chattanooga and my fast feet paid my bills. I didn't have a husband, 2 little boys, a car payment, bills, and a mortgage. My library shrinks every year and I try to tell myself my students loved the books as much as I did and took them home, even though I know they aren't big fans of reading. I think, "maybe, just maybe, they love reading (or hate it just a little less) after taking my class."  

The colorful quotes on my walls were quotes I found on Pinterest from not so famous people, handwritten in colorful marker and taped to those white bricks. 

I have some colorful baskets. They are filled with free spiral notebooks provided by our guidance office because someone knows our students probably can't afford them or don't care enough to bring them. But even the baskets are hand-me-downs from lots of teachers that came before me. I'm a little jealous of the pictures of my friends' classrooms that are super cutesy and have their students' names beautifully written and taped lovingly to their wooden desks. But most of my friends are elementary school teachers. I am pretty sure my high school students would think I was crazier than they already do if I did that. They wouldn't see it as an expression of my love for them and the excitement I have for them being in class, some of them for the fourth year in a row. This is not because they failed my class, but because I teach reading and writing to 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th graders. I love having them again, even the ones that drive me absolutely insane. That is because I get to see them grow as people, and as readers, and as writers. When they graduate, I feel like I played a part in it. They aren't just students I taught for a semester. They are my babies. 

I hate the first day when they walk in my room and some of them say, "Ms. Strauss, why do I have to have your class AGAIN?" And it warms my heart to hear some of them say, "stop it guys. I love Ms. Strauss, and her class isn't that bad." I'll take "not that bad" from a teenager that has been forced to take my class again when they could be in Ms. Cooper's Zumba class :) any day. 

Last Monday, I dropped off my 6-week-old baby at daycare for the first time, along with my rowdy two-year-old. And I didn't even remember to take their first-day-of-daycare picture. (Thankfully their teachers did for me.)

I was too excited to go to my school and teach my other babies. I love being a teacher, even though I forget how much I love being a teacher about 90% of the time. 

I forget because I start to drown In pile of paperwork, or my kids are ignoring me AGAIN, or they won't put their cell phones away even though I have asked them 5 times, or a kid asks to be switched to a different lunch because they "don't have any friends in first lunch" even though I know they do and I spent hours working on their schedules so I wouldn't have to take them out of their favorite class, or my student refuses to do his work because he is too tired, or her boyfriend broke up with her, or his dog died, or their parents got a divorce, or they are hungry because they haven't had anything to eat since lunch YESTERDAY at school, or they were up late taking care of their baby, or their friend OD'd, or or they had to work late last night to help their family pay the bills. 

And some of it I understand, because I was in high school like them not too long ago. I remember having homework in all 5 of my classes on the same night. I stayed up way too late on the phone with my boyfriend, against my parents warnings, and fell asleep in class a time or two.  I ignored my teachers sometimes, too. Sometimes I hid my flip-phone under my desk where I thought they couldn't see it. I, too, tried to  get my schedule switched so I could be in the same lunch with my best friends, because there was a time when I didn't have a lot of friends either.  I've had my heart broken by a boy a few times in my life. Once, my dog died and I had to be in class the next day trying to hold back tears.  And my parents are divorced, too. They aren't alone.

The rest I feel for, but I can't even imagine. I never lived their life. I never walked in their shoes. I never went without a meal. There was always food on my table. I didn't have to raise a child until after I had a career and a husband. It's really hard to do and I don't have to do it alone. I was blessed to never have to see the effects of dangerous addictions on people I love. I didn't have to work to help pay my family's bills. They were busting their butts to make ends meet so I wouldn't have to while I was in school.  I can't relate. I don't know what it feels like. But I do hurt for them. My heart breaks for them. When they aren't around, I cry for them. Life shouldn't be that hard yet, because they are just kids. And most of the time I forget they aren't really my kids. Because I love them that much, even when they are hard to love.

I hope they know that I wake them up because Iove them. I take away their phones because I know they need to become better readers. I make them write a whole page about their feelings because one day it is going to be important to communicate their thoughts and feelings effectively. 

There are times when I can't communicate my thoughts and feelings about them and for them. I can't tell their teacher not to give them less homework. I can't fix their high school relationships. I can't let them catch up on sleep in my classroom, and I can't take their cell phone and throw it down a flight of stairs. I can't be a best friend matchmaker or change their schedule so they can find one. I can't bring their dog back to life or put their broken families back together. I can't put food on their tables, or feed them more than some candy and some pretzels from my lunch.  I can't pay their bills. I can't help them raise their babies. I can't take their friends'addictions away. So when I am at a loss for words, and don't know how to fix their problems or stop their hurt, I hug them. 

And then we take out a book and read. For about 30 minutes we are in another place together, enjoying the triumphs the protagonist is having, hurting over someone else's fictional problems, laughing at an author's wit, perusing the pages for plot and climax and similes and metaphors and personification. We search the novels for events we have experienced, characters we can relate to, and settings that take us somewhere else. Sometimes those stories are the only escapes they have.

And sometimes, near the end of the semester, a student will walk up to me and say, "I actually loved that book. I have never liked a book before."

That, my friends, is worth the mounds of paperwork, and whitewashed walls, and makeshift posters, and grumpy kids, and attitudes, and drool-stained desks, and self-funded classroom libraries. That is what keeps me going back. That is why I hate that I love to be a teacher. That brings me joy that outweighs the chaos that is the life of a high-school teacher. And when that student walks out of my classroom, I smile and rub my hands together and sigh and say, "my job here is done." ...until the next class walks in.

Flashback Friday...a shoutout to teachers and the students we love

A new year is upon us, my fellow teacher friends.  These words are for you...The teachers taking care of my 2 little ones in daycare aka "Base Camp" teaching them to share and go potty and talk nice to their friends...the ones teaching little people to count and sing their ABCs...the ones teaching life skills to special friends who need a little extra attention...the ones teaching kiddos how to read or study or work out word problems or interpret literature or write research papers...and the ones like me teaching teenagers how to be men and women ready to take on the world.  I know this is long but if you are one of those people, I promise this is worth the read. Often we have to be their moms and their dads and their teachers all at the same time.  On top of that, we have papers to grade and parents to call and data to collect and paperwork to complete and fires to put out.  We not only hand out assignments but we hand out advice and hugs and snacks and clothes, because in many cases we are the only ones doing so.

All that to say, our jobs aren't easy.  Our jobs aren't always fun.  Often we do not see immediate fruits of our labor, the progress from our stress, the growth from our teachings, the effort from our pep talks, or the respect from our love.  I never thought in a million years I would be teaching high school.  I thought I would be teaching young kids how to sit quietly in their seats and tie their shoes and sort things into boxes and communicate their emotions and control their anger.  I never thought I would have to tell a student to hand over their dip or put out their ciggarett or stop cussing in the hallway or stop hanging on their boyfriend or stop judging people based on the color of their skin.  I never thought I would have to spend an hour trying to convince a parent their child was capable of going to college. I never thought I would have to tell a student they were working too many hours after school only to be told they had to help pay the light bill.  I never thought my current students would be ringing me up when grocery shopping on the weekend.  I never thought I would have to tell my students to stop speeding out of the parking lot or stay out of jail.  

I never thought I would have the pleasure of seeing little kids just out of middle school four years later present senior projects about things they were passionate about.  I never thought I would watch minds change and hearts melt and eyes open to the prejudices so deeply rooted inside them.  I never thought I would watch a student convince a depressed friend that life was worth living.  I never thought I would see my students' talents lead them into promising careers just months after I was their teacher.  I never thought I would see my students start families of their own.  But I have.  And what a blessing it has been.

It took four years for me to figure out why I ended up teaching high school.  And I think one of those reasons is so I can encourage those of you who don't teach high school, and remind those who do why we do.  I stumbled upon this letter that I wrote after my fourth year of teaching. And it came just in time.  I did not come into this year extremely motivated or excited.  I had forgotten the purpose behind all that we do.  But this letter written by my former self to my graduating seniors reminded me why the heck I put up with these precious little boogers.

"Hello friend.  You may not know this, but you are part of a very special group to me.  What better time for me to show my appreciation for you than now?  You are ending one chapter of your life to begin another.  You are one of the few students that were in the first class I ever taught in.  I was 21 and fresh out of college and you were my guinea pigs.  I was thrown back into a world I had just left 4 years earlier...high school.  I was beginning my second adventure in high school and you were beginning your first.  I was just as scared of this place as you were.  But we got through it together.  Here we are, four years later, still alive and kicking.  We did it!

At times I have wondered why in the world I got into this profession.  Why would I put up with crazy kids all day?  Why would I bother waking up sleeping students or fussing at them in the hallways during class?  Why would I lecture my class about doing their best and studying hard when it seems they would much rather text on their phones or talk about cars?  

This is why!  You guys are why!  Because no matter what happened along the way, you have persevered and fought to get where you are.  You did this on your own.  You earned this.  I can't take any of the credit.  But I feel so honored to have been a piece of the puzzle in your high school career.  I have enjoyed...most of the time...watching you get here.  Seeing students walk across the stage at graduation to begin the next phase of their lives is so rewarding.  It is such a great reminder of why I am here.  So as you walk across the stage, know your success is driving me to start another year.  I will remember your smiles of pride and confidence on graduation day when I start to think, "what am I doing here?"  You guys are the reason I am a teacher.  You are why I will continue to do what I do.  Seeing you succeed shows me that my effort and time and love are worth it.  

And that is what it is...love.  You may not know this, but I love you.  All of you have played a part in my journey as a teacher.  And for that I thank you.  I will remember all of the smiles and the frustrations and the study sessions and the lectures and the laughs.  This is what makes me love my job.  

I can't wait to see you guys one day after graduation.  Don't avoid eye contact.  Smile.  Say hi.  Give me a hug.  Tell me all of the wonderful things you are doing with your life.  Fill me in.  Catch me up.  Come meet my family and introduce me to yours.  Make me proud.  You are the first ones I will share that moment with.  Hopefully many more will follow.  But you will always hold a special place in my heart.  

I don't think I could tell you this while I was your teacher, but I will tell you now.  I have been and will be praying for you.  I pray you become all God intends you to be.  I pray life gives you more smiles than tears.  I pray you create a life better than you dream.  

Brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable---if anything is excellent and praiseworthy---think about such things.  Philippians 4:8"

...so those teachers of you from preschool and up, know you are all part of this journey.  "A person's a person no matter how small."  Know that eventually those little stinkers of yours will go out into the world and do their thing.  And when life brings them success, remember you were a part of the road that got them there.  Your puzzle piece matters.  

And in the words of my beloved Dr. Seuss..."Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better.  It's not"

So keep on caring.  You may be the only one who does.

July 2015...BITTER...SWEET

On this, the 20th day of July, the year 2015, I am mentally, emotionally, and spiritually OVERWHELMED!  This month has been a whirlwind for my country, my city, my family, and me. And none of us will ever be the same again, for better or for worse, and my prayer is for the former.
July 1st- the first day of the month of my due date for my second son. He was due to make his appearance on July 29th.
Needless to say, he wasn't willing to wait.

July 4th-a day our country celebrates freedom, and the day my son, Patten Turner Strauss, decided to join in on the festivities.

July 5th-Some friends and family came to meet Little Patten. He was alert and cuddly and cute and everything a one-day old baby should be. We told our son, Shea, that his new baby brother would be going to "Shea's house" tomorrow because all indications pointed in that direction. 

July 6th- Due to extreme exhaustion on the part of my husband and I (I had essentially been in labor and in and out of the hospital for at least a week), we took advantage of the nursury services offered by the hospital. We sent him off to the nursury so we could sleep a couple of hours at a time between feedings. It is hospital policy that all babies that are born before 37 weeks gestation must have a car-seat test. He was born at 36 weeks and 4 days. This is where they put the baby in the car seat for an hour and monitor their heart rate and respiration. As we slept, they strapped him into the car seat. It quickly became clear to the nurses he was not going to pass the test. His respiration rate went up over 100 breaths per minute. My husband and I were woken up by a nurse we had never met telling us our 2-day-old son had just been admitted to the NICU. This is what we saw when we walked in to see our little guy.

July 7th-

July 8th-

Later that day...

Fast forward to July 16th- On the way home from lunch and shopping with my mother-in-law and my two boys, I got a call from my husband who was working a kids summer camp at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. He said to go straight home and turn on the news but he didn't know any details. All he knew was there was an active shooter in downtown Chattanooga. I am sure you are aware of the shootings that happened in Chattanooga where 4 marines and one sailor lost their lives and many others put their lives on the line to make sure no more innocent people died at the hands of evil. They happened just a few miles from where my husband was working. We later learned that the shooter went to the same college as us at the same time. He was, up until the time of the shooting, living on the same street where my mom grew up.

Click here to listen to this beautiful song.

Today, July 19th-

As I sit in the comfort of my home and watch my boys play beside each other on the floor and type this post with my husband beside me on the couch, I can't help but be grateful for all that I have. I can't help but take a sigh of relief that we were not in the wrong place at the wrong time. I can't help but think about and pray for and hurt for those that no longer have their husbands, or sons, or fathers beside them. I can't help but worry about the mounting threats of more terrorism in the coming hours and days and years. I can't help but be sad at the state of the world that will be the expected norm to my boys if nothing changes. I can't help but pray that my boys be a part of a generation that turns from fear to peace, from doubt to hope, and from hate to love. I pray that my husband and I will find the words to say when our sons ask the hard questions like why did this happen, who could do something like this, why is life so hard, and why do bad things happen to good people? I pray this because these are answers I am seeking myself.

But through all of this sadness there is one thing I know...in the end all that matters is LOVE.

1 Corinthians 13: 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Fed Up Friday

This may be the pregnancy hormones speaking, but this is a place for me to share my thoughts, feelings, and art, so I am going to share them. I have never posted anything political on my Facebook. Politics are not my thing. I am a teacher and a Christian and feel I often don't have enough information or the right words to put my thoughts out there for the world to see. I know once I hit publish, I may not be able to take back anything I have said. The internet can be altered but it is there for the finding. And I may regret this, but while I have the courage to do so, I am going to share what is on my heart. This showed up on my newsfeed today.

I didn't react the way some people may think. I didn't jump for joy as some of my friends and family may have. And I don't regret that. 

And I didn't cry over the direction our nation is headed as some of my friends and family may have. And I don't regret that.

I was somewhat indifferent to the picture above on my newsfeed. Politics have never been my thing. I am able to separate my spiritual views from my political views whether that is right or wrong. I realize that not every American is a Christian and accept that is why sometimes the laws of my country do not line up with the laws of the book I try to live my life by. So for that reason I did not feel strongly one way or another when I saw this article. 

But the responses to the article brought me to tears. And I haven't been able to get over the feelings that the responses gave me. I thought about posting some of the hateful comments people made in the name of Christianity to prove my point but I don't think more negativity needs to be out there. And part of me hopes the people will see the hate in their words is not a reflection of the love of Christ. I know in the past I have said things I wish I hadn't in the name of my religion. I have been known to talk about a speck in another's eye while ignoring the plank in my own. I am not innocent in the judgment department. But I feel one way I have grown in Christ is that I have learned to love where I used to judge. I have learned to bite my tongue when I used to yell. I have learned to look within before pointing fingers. 

I know my God is not ONLY a God of

Love. I know he is also a God of wrath. But I have also really searched for the heart of God in this situation while my heart broke over the hateful words spoken by my brothers and sisters in Christ. To me this is not a matter of right or wrong or good or evil. This has become a matter of love and hate. And while I may not know what the heart of God is feeling today, I do know what the heart of Christ would be. All I could think is what would Jesus do if he were here today.  What would he do if he scrolled through his newsfeed (which he probably wouldn't waste his time doing) and saw that article. I don't think he would cry over a court decision or shake his finger in someone's face or share the link and write above it "our country is going going to hell in a handbasket." He knows without him that is where we are going anyways. 

And he may not change his cover photo to the rainbow flag. But he sure as hell would not be spewing words of hate and wrath. He would probably be giving a hug to the person whose heart was broken by those evil words. He would probably go on with his life loving on people...all people. He would do so knowing that the God who was using him to give FORGIVENESS AND GRACE AND LOVE to his people was still on his throne. And he would make sure that the love overshadowed the hate. And he would probably make it known that his God is a God of LOVE. And I plan on doing the same.

To-Do-List Tuesday: more in-memory quilts

Hi friends, remember those baby in-memory quilts I made out of Lindsey's Grandma's old PJs?

Well, now I am working on something that I think is even more special. Her grandmother started on a quilt she never finished. And Lindsey and her mom asked if I could finish it. I am so honored! I am hand-quilting it. And I am liking how it is turning out. This is this week's work in progress. 

Finished Product Friday

Life has been crazy lately.  Being a stay-at-home mom is hard work. This 2-year-old is wearing this 34-week-pregnant-mom out.

He is nonstop energy, sweetness, entertainment development, and discovery. This makes me feel blessed to have this extra time one-on-one with my sweet little man to be a part of all of it. It amazes me how quickly he learns about the world that is so new to him. It is crazy to watch him go from the kid saying a word or two and us racking our brains to figure out what he is trying to tell us, to a kid communicating in sentences..."I watch Mickey TV please, Mommy?" "Mommy pitch gloves?" "I have more pop tarts, please?" "I sorry for hit, Mommy." "I love you SOOO MUCH!" 

But he is also a little frustration, confusion, crabbiness, whiny, noisy, aggressive, and rebellious. The whole terrible twos is not a myth. I wouldn't call him terrible by any means but his newfound independence has made him a little sassy. He thinks rules don't apply. He thinks anything and everything is his for the taking and messing and throwing. He thinks he can always have what he wants when he wants it. And when he doesn't get it, he thinks it is perfectly acceptable to hit or bite or cry to tell you just how much he wants it. And that makes me so tired, and frustrated and impatient at times. Sometimes I lose my temper. Sometimes I don't use MY inside voice. Sometimes I temporarily forget that he is still a new human just learning how to be a person, just as much as I am a newish mother learning how to be a parent. But I have also seen God building up in me more patience and calm than I had before. I am learning that I can't do it alone. I am seeing more of God's grace in the moments where I mess up and Shea turns out okay anyways. The times when I have to tell my little boy sorry for how I reacted and he hugs me and says he loves me remind me of my Father's love and forgiveness.

 There is no still or chill in this little one. But because he is more or less an energy drink in a 27-pound package, he is FINALLY taking decent naps. 

And what a blessing that 1-2 hours a day has been. Not only do I get to fight him for 15 minutes to stay in bed, but I get to spend the next 10 minutes or so singing and cuddling my little person and holding his hand until he finally gives up fighting. Then I get to do the other things I love, like crocheting and sewing. And thanks to that quiet time, here is what I have finished this week. Before this week I have been busy making memory blankets like these twin onesie quilts.

But this week I have been doing IN-MEMORY projects. A dear friend from high school sent me this message a little while back.

"Hey Meredith,

Hope you are doing well, I see you're expecting your second little boy is well. 😊 I have a couple of sort of special baby quilts I would like to have made I was wondering if you were possibly interested in doing them for me...I am expecting another boy in July, and my brother Alex is expecting his first at the end of August. We were both very close to my grandmother who passed away in 2008, and for as long as anyone can remember she was always wearing the silk pajamas. Not real silk of course just some kind of fake polyester. I have a pair of those and I would like to have a baby quilt made for both of our children that incorporated those pajamas into patches. nothing large just small baby quilts." 

So here is what she got. This is quilt #1.

Working on number 2 during today's nap if all goes as planned...which it often doesn't.

This is the second In-Memory project I finished this week...another mermaid wrap blanket.

This one was extra special, and here is why. This is the text I received with her custom order.

"Oh my gosh I have been looking for someone to make these for me for a year now! My best friend and I both shared a love for mermaids and she passed away last summer, our favorite colors were pink and purple and she loved lime green, could I possibly get one with those colors?"

I love how it turned out and so did she. 

I hope it brings her comfort. 

I would love to do more projects like these (or any projects for that matter), so message me here or on Facebook if you are interested. 

To-Do List Tuesday-Before Baby #2

Baby Patten Turner Strauss will be joining the family soon.  Not sure when, but going from previous experience with his big brother, Shea, who decided to mix things up by trying to come 7 weeks early, it could be soon. But if he decided to be like most babies he may not be here until his due date on July 29th. Gotta wait and see.

But there is quite a to-do list to finish before he arrives. I am blessed to say that list is MUCH shorter than it was last week. My dad and little brother came and did some extensive house-prepping and cleaning and detailing the past several days. I cannot thank them enough for all of the love and hard work they put into our house that had bit by bit gotten a little out of hand.

They cleaned out our whole garage and added shelves to store our stuff that doesn't have a spot in the house. That included burning a pile of about 70 cardboard boxes that had accumulated since we moved in a few years ago, and shop-vaccing crawly critters who decided to make those boxes home. As soon as we have our next yard sale we will be able to fit 2 cars in the garage, which hasn't been possible since we moved here.  

The kitchen appliances are sparkling, the windows are clean, the floors and baseboards are scrubbed. A few minutes ago Shea left the living room and headed in the kitchen.  He's supposed to stay in the living room with me. When I asked him to come back he started crying. "I white, I white." I am not yet fluent in toddler speak but I am getting there. I was stumped.  I said, "show Mommy what you want."  He grabbed a dish towel off the stove, ran back in the room, and proceeded to "white" (wipe) the windows.  "I clean, Mommy."  He has learned a servant's heart by watching the people he loves and looks up to.  I think his love language is acts of service like his daddy and my daddy.  So I smiled and thanked him and gave him a big hug because my love language is physical touch.  :)

Paint has been touched up. We could probably sell this house tomorrow if we wanted to.  They left early this morning to drive back to Texas leaving behind a different house than the one they arrived at.  We are truly grateful.  

To-Do List

-Finsh organizing Patten's nursery and Shea's bedroom

-have another yard sale to clear out the rest of the garage

-clean my bedroom and bathroom as well as the rest of the house has been cleaned

-organize my arts and crafts from the studio in my basement (see previous post)

-finish the edging on My brother's high school t-shirt quilt

-make some quilts for my friend from high school

It's done list

-twin onesie quilts

-puppy quilt for Ryder

-photo props for Lorie 

(who happened to have done an amazing job on Shea's one and 2 year old pictures)

Www.lorieallison.com

-a crocheted baby blanket

-and another mermaid wrap blanket

If you are interested in having me make you something, either message me on Facebook or leave a comment at the bottom of this post.

I love my crazy life and am so thankful for the help with the craziness.

Today's to-do list includes joining my hubby for lunch at UTC followed by a visit to the doctor to check up on our little Patten...hopefully followed by a nap for the other little one when we get home.

We may not have it all together at the Strauss house, but we are on our way, works-in-progress. And God is using us and molding us and teaching us and humbling us and LOVING US in the midst of the madness.

My verse for today:

If I say "my foot slips," your mercy will hold me up. In the multitude of my anxieties within me, your comforts delight my soul. Psalms 94:18-19

I was anxious, thinking "how in the world will it all get done? We aren't even close to being ready for Patten. This place is a mess and I don't know where to start. How are we going to afford another one?" But it is getting done. And we have been blessed with resources and help to make life more organized. And God will provide what we need just like he always does. He has brought comfort and joy to my soul in the form of organization and family.  Now that they have headed home, I am homesick but I'm looking forward to a family reunion soon when Patten comes.