Addition. Or not.

There are days in my life that leave me breathless, with a sore back and unwashed hair, looking back at my house that is neither organized nor clean, wondering how it is I stumbled down this road. It's in those times, shuffling up the stairs with a basket of laundry that I am almost positive made it through the washer, peeling a child or two off of my legs while ignoring the "CARRRIIIEED!!! CARRRIIIEEEEEEEED!!!" cries and the attempts to go all dead weight on me so I won't put them down... those times have my uterus clamping down on itself, willing my insides to just shut down, stop working, dry up. Two is enough.

But there are other days, when all I hear are giggles, everyone eats their entire lunch, and when Eli poops, nothing but butterflies fill his diaper. Rainbows fill my eyes, and I imagine things like my family of 10 skipping through a field of wild flowers while singing about Doe's and Ray's and Fa La La's, all wearing matching jumpsuits I made from my size 8 clothing that no longer fits me. Paul is carrying a basket full of sandwiches I cut into little hearts, and apple juice that's not watered down because I just felt THAT NICE. And while a little corner of my brain wonders how it is I've sunken so far down into the domestic role, the rest is wondering how I am going to ask Paul to work until he's 95 so we can get all of our kids through college.

I flip back and forth at the drop of a hat (well, more realistically, at the drop of a cup full of milk that I have repeatedly asked to be set down on the table to avoid doing EXACTLY THAT). I think that some people might say that since I am having any doubts at all, that maybe we should just be done and be thankful for what we have. After all, everything is so convenient for a family of four. Throw a third into the mix, and everything gets all crowded and awkward. But there are others, I know, that say because I am still left wondering if the next one is going to have bright blue eyes like Alex and Eli, and have gone so far as to scout out some names.... I don't know. Maybe we aren't done. As of right now, more would be nice.

If I could just avoid being pregnant for nine months, the decision would be so easy. I don't want to puke. I don't want heartburn. I am making good headway on my weight loss and I don't want that to not only come to a screeching halt, but actually reverse. I really REALLY don't want to puke. I enjoy regularly scheduled bowel movements. I enjoy being able to cut my toenails without being winded after.

And I enjoy not puking.

But... 10 kids singing harmony while eating little tiny sandwiches. Hard to pass up.

Christmas Happenings.

Merry Christmas from the Rinas Family.

They tried to warn me.

It's hard to hear the warnings of other mothers when your little ones are... well... little. Everyone says it goes quickly, and that you should store each and every moment up in a bottle, because soon you will be missing it sorely. When you're entrenched in diapers and crying and late nights and Baby Stuff, it's hard to take that warning seriously. But you know what? It's true.

While on the phone with my mother the other night, the subject of Alex's birthday came up, which is in March. Mom asked if she was going to be three. My first instinct was to say, No, Of course not, She'll be 2 months old. But then... Three. She'll be THREE. I couldn't believe it.

Sometimes I look at her and I still see this:

But then she'll do something or say something, and it's like I get sucked back to Present Day, and she's standing there smiling at me, saying "Good Job Mama! It's Beautiful!" because I put a block on our tower just so.


So I look to the other side of the room, and for a second, my Sweet Little Eli is laying there looking at me with his sweet little baby face.


But then he'll break out his best monkey impression and couple it with a dance that is just bizarre, all the while laughing because he KNOWS he's funny.


I just can't believe it.

As much as it breaks my heart knowing that someday Paul and I will look at each other, and our quiet empty house, knowing that they've all flown the coop (although, to be honest, alot of the time this sounds pretty fantastic), I enjoy watching them grow up. They are evolving into little people. And so different from one another. I always thought Eli would be my quiet, shy one. But he's not. He's just quiet because he knows he can get away with more that way. I am sure he looks at his sister and just shakes his head sometimes, because she'll go into Trouble screaming loudly and flailing her arms. He just sneaks into Trouble, and stays there quietly doing mischief until he's found. And if I raise my voice with Alex, she'll stop and most times break into sobs that can only be soothed with lots of cuddling. Eli, on the other hand, will just smile and do whatever it is he is doing wrong as many times as he can before I can reach him.

Life is pushing us steadily forward, and I think from now on, I am going to try and keep a better record of it, because there is only so much you can keep in your head before it gets replaced with "How To Change A Diaper In A Bathroom With No Changing Table" or "How To Effectively Get Pee Out Of Your Couch Cushion". Here's to trying.

A Short Tour.

The road leading to our house. If you look left, you see the freeway, right and you see the road leading into the village.

The village Church. Still active.

Across the street from the church, the graveyard.

With a place to rest.

Continue on the road and see our lonely bus stop.

And some rolling hills.

Not a bad place to call home.

The Nitch.

It seems as of late that my family life has been evolving, taking on new aspects that we never saw up until just a few months ago. I think that this is to be expected, for things to change like this, when you have a trans-continental move. I think that life probably changes like this a lot even without the move when you have two little people walking in your wake who are changing each and every single day, coming up with new independent tendencies and exploits to make you feel awkward in public. Our life changed like this one other time (in the years since we've been married), and that was our transition from England to St. Louis, which also happened to coincide with our transition from young newlyweds to overwhelmed parents. I was not prepared for that change. I had only just gotten used to England, and had only just gotten used to married life. St. Louis will forever be that awkward teenage-stage of our marriage, where there were too many things going on in our own bodies and lives to really be able to focus on what newlyweds normally tend to in those first few years. It was a great time, a time of change that I will be singing songs of thanksgiving for for the rest of my years, but one that I wasn't really feeling too equipped to be dealing with.

And then we made the decision to come back to England. One that was intertwined so tightly with both excitement and anxiety that I couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. I was so ready for a change. St. Louis never felt like home, and I could never come to grips with putting down roots. It just never happened. It could have been the house, it could have been the heat. I'm not entirely sure. But England presented us with an opportunity to start over. So we took it.

I really can't explain just how happy we are here. Within weeks of us moving into our house, it feels more like 'home' than St. Louis ever did. The Lord was gracious, as He always is, and lead us down the right paths to meet some amazing people. I have a circle of women that I adore, all of whom have children the same ages as mine. The kids have FRIENDS. Friends that they ask for by name.

Adjustments are still being made, by Paul and I and the kids. Alex is overwhelmed with the amount of playmates she has here. We go to an organized playgroup once a week in the village next to us, and then we get together with our new buds once a week as well, for a slightly less organized but much more fun playdate. It's taken her a while to get used to all of the activity, but she is blossoming. The other night Paul and I were going out, which usually involves us sneaking away while the kids are distracted by our babysitter, but Alex caught sight of us, and instead of screaming and clawing and not letting go, she ran up, said "BYE MOMMY! KISS!" It was no big deal. I was amazed. It was such a huge step. Sharing is still a hard concept, but we are getting there.

She is getting so big. She helps me cook.

I am starting to see myself in her. In her cheese grins that she gives me when I ask her to smile. I see years and years of goofing off for picture time coming back to bite me.

Eli is doing really well too. He gets helped out by his sister alot, which makes me happy to see. He spends most of his days finding new ways to amuse himself, and lately, it's been trying to fit into our toy bus. I have to hand it to him, once he sets his mind on something, he sticks to it. That will serve him well in the future. Now, though, not so much.

I've been finding my own way as well. I realize now looking back on it that I did not manage my time very well in St. Louis. I was always with the kids. Each and every single day. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. But I never took breaks. I never did anything to hold on to myself. I was mom, or wife. This was especially true during Paul's deployment. I see now that had I taken more effort to have time to myself, things would have been healthier for both myself and the kids. Best to learn from these mistakes though. So here, I've been going out of my way to find things that inspire different parts of my mind than the ones used to change diapers and do laundry. And it feels so good. I can come home from these things and be a happier mom, and happier wife. I feel more like the person I was before I had kids. I'm not trying to hold on to my youth, and I understand that change is inevitable. But I want the kids to remember me as more than the tired looking woman who shuffled behind them to pick up their wake.

Anyway, one of those things has been a ceramics class that I frequent on occasion. I've only done two pieces, but it's nice to get into a room filled with other people who are quietly bent over their projects, taking in the silence. This was my second piece, and I am altogether thrilled with how it turned out.

I've also been having fun in the kitchen. When the kids go to bed, our kitchen gets transformed into a baking machine. I love it. I've been experimenting with new recipes, and also ones with that are my own. It's been fun. I have a husband with a strong stomach, and that has certainly made it easier.

All in all, we are happy. We are content. And that's a really great feeling.