birthday

Another 40s Birthday, 2020-Style

September 10, 2020 by Gindi Leave a Comment

That nice red splotch is what’s left of my spider bite

I climbed another notch on the 40 to 50 ladder with my birthday yesterday. One that lands me closer to the end of the decade rather than the beginning. A non-birthday which turned into a lovely birthday because of precious people in my life.

I haven’t written in a bit so there’s nothing over here on the blog that notes the freak issues that cropped up for me while doing hurricane recovery at the farm the past two weekends. Weekend before last, some type of spider somehow got into/up/through my blue-jeaned-legs and bit my shin. It went south pretty fast. By last Thursday, I booked a quick telemed visit with my doctor’s office because of the red, hot, oozing mess. She prescribed oral and topical antibiotics to get it under control.

Then, last Sunday at the farm, I developed a painful, itchy rash on my neck and chest. Plus my leg didn’t seem to be improving.

So Bray and I got a big laugh yesterday morning when I said “Well this is what 4# looks like, you have a 7:45 am doctor’s visit for a freak rash!” (And Southern Living sent me an article on The Most Flattering Hairstyles for Mature Women…) I wouldn’t expect anything else from you, 2020! And aging!

Turns out, I was having a reaction to both the oral and topical antibiotic, but the bite was actually improving, it just had a rash on top of it. Ha! So no more antibiotics, and now I’m on steroids. This morning, everything already looks a ton better and I slept through the night.

With that as its backdrop, how could the birthday do anything but go up. I worked all day, of course, because adult birthdays are far less glamorous than kid birthdays. But my best friend sent me a little treat to encourage us to go out/get take out, and our other dear friend dropped off a beautiful gift. My texts and IMs and social media was full of gracious words from kind friends from this season of life and all the past seasons too! I love that. It’s like seeing everyone at a wedding again.

Bray picked up a Mediterranean feast per my wishes, and my mom delivered a yummy lemon cake for afterwards. I haven’t written about it a lot here because my weight is just such an up and down battle for me, but I’ve been “dieting.” I’m doing Beachbody shakes and work outs and I haven’t had a bite of sugar for three weeks so this was a fun little splurge.

The best part though was sitting around after dinner with these people God has gifted me with and opening cards and presents. My mom and little bit both picked out these gorgeous cards and wrote these long beautiful messages. This is the first year a child went and selected their own card and she penned such a beautiful sentiment inside a lovely card that I cried right through the whole thing.

Bray had a brutal day at work but showed up and did the birthday thing even though he is utterly wiped between the farm and work. The kids went to school and cross country and are still tired from farm clean up, but they showed up and showered me with love and kindness. My mom, and friends, and co-workers, all took time out to be such love and kindness. A good friend of mine had delivered dinner to us the night before since I hadn’t had time to meal prep. TWO straight nights with zero cooking for me! As much as I love to cook, it was a fantastic break in this hectic season.

The boys have a football scrimmage tonight and game on Saturday. The kids have a cross country meet next week. We’re navigating social distance and masks and a pandemic with reentry to school and sports and hurricane recovery. It’s a lot and it’s good and it’s hard and it’s full.

I started yesterday completely and utterly depleted. I’m starting this morning restored. Not because I suddenly got 12 hours of sleep or everything is different. Everything is the same (except my rash!). But I remembered how extraordinarily good God is and how I have everything I need.

I’m grateful to start this next year. I’m thankful I get to.

A Decade of Triplets

October 2, 2019 by Gindi Leave a Comment

I’m a little late in writing this post. Maybe because it felt so momentous and I didn’t feel I had momentous words.

How can I sum up in one little post the past decade and the years leading up to this miraculous decade?

How could I capture the full decade of my yearning to be married with kids but staying stubbornly single despite my searching?

How do I write about the years of dating between meeting Bray (nearly 16 years ago) and the time we looked at each other on that church alter saying I do?

How is it possible to share the deepest soul agony we both had in hearing we couldn’t have kids and those years of trying with only failure to show?

Then.

The moment that sparked this decade’s long adventure.

The moment there were two lines. And I took another test, two more lines. Then another test, PREGNANT. (I wouldn’t know the irony of three tests at the time.)

Then Bray walking into our bedroom, where I’d stayed in bed for a week in hope of improving our chances, and him opening a little package. Inside, a tiny onesie that said My other car seat is on daddy’s tractor. I can still see his face. This disbelieving hope of a final yes.

A nearly 33 week pregnancy, the last six weeks spent in bed, the last two in the hospital. The decision to take them early to preserve my health when the preeclampsia took hold. The month in the NICU with three little people and several big scares all while I tried to heal from the emergency C-section. Taking each one home individually, first the eldest, then the baby, while my heart broke at leaving little bit behind an extra week to recover from an infection. All came home on monitors and we had the chaos of weeks that followed, another emergency NICU stay, the holidays, my return to work right after the night nanny left. It’s all a blur. I don’t know who rolled over first. Or who sat up first. I know the eldest climbed out of his bed the first but that wasn’t for another year plus.

The first year, Bray and I clinging to each other as we worked and parented and did absolutely nothing else because there was no space for anything except for these little people. They took over. They grew. They improved. They smiled. The gurgled. They sat up in little Bumbo seats and had triplet pow-wows.

The second year, Bray and I tried to figure out how to do “us” in the middle of the hard and exhausting work. We fought and fell apart and fell back together. That happened at least three separate times in this decade. Where we didn’t know how we’d get back to each other and we always did. God always worked a way for us to get back to each other.

And these people. Oh we loved them so much then and we love them so much more now.

They are so very beautiful. Their hands that will still hold ours. Their foreheads we get to kiss after ‘bednight’ prayers. Their hair that smells like chlorine or sweat or shampoo depending on when we hug them close. Their eyes that stare into ours – welling with tears when hurt descends and sparkling with laughter when we dance or cook or exchange jokes.

That first beautiful boy who came out. Our Baby A. With his big hands and feet and head, like a Labrador puppy. Oh he is so persistent. He works at anything he wants. He wants to be the very best. He can suffer crushing disappointment or sadness or self-chastising when he isn’t, but he just keeps working. That eldest – confident, except when he’s not; bold, except when he’s worried; tenacious and athletic and competitive and loving and utterly kissable and challenging and fascinating and outgoing and passionate and smart and the first one to completely capture my heart.

Then the lone baby girl. Baby B. She was squished right in the middle of the boys but held her own, kicking them in the head on our ultrasound to make herself known, and still doing it today. She is the most introverted, needing time and self-reflection. She struggles knowing what a bright and gifted young woman she is becoming, but she remains fierce and loyal and committed and active and kind and generous and adventurous and observant and thrill-seeking and thinking and lovely inside and out. In her early years, I said she was my cat and the boys were my dogs because she just needed someone to feed her and change her and then she was just fine, thank you very much. But her independence and desire for peace, while still strong, has abated enough so she loves and cuddles and develops deep friendships.

Ah, and last, but most certainly not least, came Baby C. He was the smallest all throughout the pregnancy. Our doctor even asked us to consider “reducing” our crew when we found out we were pregnant with three. What a loss the world would have without this bright Baby C. His lungs were a little underdeveloped at birth which has caused him to struggle some with asthma but you would never know by the way he plays and works. He will have his heart broken because he will give it away. He is bright and hard-working and diligent and empathetic and curious and loving and observant and also athletic and committed and sensitive.

We did not make them who they are. God did. We get the honor of getting to know them better than everyone else, what an extraordinary gift to know them best, and of raising them to be generous and curious and grateful and seekers of truth and justice.

We have failed often in this decade. We will fail in the decade to come. But they know we love them more than words can say. They know we will always show up, no matter what. And they know the five of us are in this thing together, for better or worse, and we will carry each other through the hard and cheer each other through the joy.

One decade as a family of five. It seems more than I can even take in. I am ever so grateful for every single day.

Click

September 9, 2019 by Gindi Leave a Comment

As the kids began to read, they all wanted to read mysteries. One of our favorite early mystery series was Cam Jansen. Cam is her nickname, short for camera, because she has a photographic memory. You can imagine how handy that comes in while sleuthing.

When chaos would strike, Cam would close her eyes and say, CLICK. It imprinted a detailed memory of the location and characters in her mind and she always returned to that CLICK when solving the mystery.

This weekend, I found myself whispering, CLICK.

Another year has passed. I’m in that quiet, head-down phase after 40 and before 50. Lots happening, life busy, so much good and so much exhaustion.

But this weekend, I savored the sweet season it is. Not weather season mind you, it’s brutally hot down here on the Texas Gulf Coast, but life season.

Friday night, I gathered at a neighbor’s house with some girl mommas and their girls. We laughed and commiserated and girls swam and performed dances for us. One momma commented, they won’t do that much longer, want us watching. CLICK.

Saturday morning, we strolled around the farmer’s market and the kids had overprices frozen drinks and we selected meats and produce and pasta. We laughed and then drove over to Lowe’s. The kids brought home two turtles from the farm, Big T and Shelly, and the boys wanted to purchase pebbles and mulch and chicken wire for the habitat they’re building in our backyard. A series of ponds and rivers all dug with their own hands in the heat. But the end result of a large outdoor turtle area left them beaming with pride. CLICK.

We watched the LSU – UT game (geaux Tigers!), first alone, and then with neighbors, and the kids jumped around and little bit went to bed early because she’d had enough after half time. I found her curled up asleep in my bed after the game. CLICK.

Sunday morning, we went to church. Our pew was all kids and me. We had parents of fourth grade friends in front of us and in back of us and the friends on our pew. Sitting between the boys, they each laid their head on one of my shoulders during the sermon and I soaked it in. Is this the last time they are comfortable laying their head on my shoulder during a service with their friends around, I wondered? CLICK.

There were birthday parties and play dates and wine with fellow moms while the kids played in the backyard. There was an escaped turtle and ensuing search (Shelly is still on the loose, say your prayers). There were chicken enchiladas and rides in the pool on the new bull inflatable. (The one that has Stanley puppy barking like a mad man.)

CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

I don’t have the world’s best memory. So I spent a lot of effort focusing on how good all this is. How overwhelmingly grateful I am for every minute of it. I may not have Cam Jansen’s photographic memory, but these moments are emblazoned on my heart.

Your Ninth Birthday Letters

October 14, 2018 by Gindi Leave a Comment

Every year, I write a birthday post.

I had every intention of getting this one up two weeks ago. You know, in time.

But with the hustle and bustle of their actual birthday and Bray’s new job and our being in and out of town, it took me a smidge longer.

The words from every year still feel true and still feel like they’re changing. I read assorted old posts – from three and four to six and eight.

For the eldest, words like competitive and athletic and snuggling and curious. For years now, interests lead with football but include anything around games or the farm and ranch.

Then with our little bit, words like kind and artistic and athletic and independent. And interests ranging from dolls and crafts to dance and Legos.

And the baby, words like curious and emotional and intelligent and compassionate. While interests have led with fishing for a few years, they are incredibly diverse from cooking to reading to all sports.

If I could share one thing with each of you this year, this formative year on the brink of child and tween, I would tell you this.

Sweet S,

I love you. You are miraculous and created in God’s image. While you struggle between great pride in what you achieve and intense self-criticism when you don’t “win”, I would ask you to pause. I understand this cycle of pride and self-doubt so well. I’ve lived it. Life will deal you many successes as well as many set backs. Hold on. You have so many talents. Your life verse in Proverbs 3 can light the way to navigate it all: Trust in the Lord with all of your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him and He will make your paths straight. You have had my heart since the second I held you in my arms. Never doubt that. You be you.

Love always,

Mom

Lovely L,

I hope we never stop our mutual admiration: I love you… No, I love you more… Not possible! You will be a force to be reckoned with. You stand your ground with the boys but have maintained your femininity. Let God lead your independent spirit with grace and modesty. Don’t worry about what others are doing, let His wisdom guide you well. Your life verse in Ephesians 3 can ground you in your faith: I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your heart through faith… I will always be here for you, no matter what. Lead bravely.

Love you little bit,

Mom

Precious W,

And so my sweet baby by 30 seconds, you end up last on the list again but never last in my heart. God has given you a deep wellspring of emotion, more mature than any child I’ve ever met, but it can be painfully hard to balance at this young age. Feeling all the people’s emotions must feel like wildfire at times. And while it gives you great empathy, it can also lead to other harder emotions to manage. Hang in there. Your life verse, we could not have known, how it would be such a touchstone for the things ahead. Colossians 3 can remind you: We always thank God for you…when we pray for you because we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love you have for all God’s people…We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives… I love you so much. Step into your bold calling.

All my love,

Mom

Eight is Great!

October 2, 2017 by Gindi Leave a Comment

Eight is Great! Or so I hear.

Today, the triplets turn 8. EIGHT!

I started to go back and look at old posts and then I decided against it. I didn’t want to read what I wrote about each of the kids over the years. In all likelihood, it will remain consistent.

I love watching them grow and learn and stretch their wings. But this year, as I’ve written, has been a rough one. Tons of attitude. Outright disobedience. Pushing boundaries I didn’t expect them to test (from backtalk to lying to an actual stealing event, sigh).

My girlfriend tells me they turn the corner at 8!

I want to focus on the good. There’s plenty there. And yet, as my best friend and I noted when going through a bad behavioral day simultaneously, the disruptive behavior sucks our attention away from the others and sucks the joy out of the house.

So on this sweet day where we celebrate these miracles, I want my kids to know how PRECIOUS they are. But I don’t want to candy coat the storyline that it’s all halos and lollipops. This parenting gig is hard and I get it wrong. The kids know that. They will remember I lost my temper or snapped at them. Plus, they get it wrong too.

At the end of every evening though, we pray. We kiss. We read. We visit. We tell each other we love each other (I love you more!).

We’re all learning together.

The little lady is fighting growing up a bit right now. She really enjoys being young and is in no rush to grow up. Hoorah for me. She obeys most of the time and generally only lashes out when she’s tired or the boys push her buttons. When you ask her what her favorite subject is, the answer is often math. This surprises me since she’s so creative – she draws and makes AG doll accessories and sings and dances and acts (their home theatre performances are awesome). I wish I was craftier because she’s got a knack for it. But she’s also tremendously graceful and athletic which she similarly did not inherit from dear ole mom. She’s earnest and kind and loves all animals. She’ll get her heart broken because of her tenderness, but I pray she retains it through her whole life because she will grow merciful and generous.

The eldest is a force. He is focused on the things important to him. Those things tend to be sports, all games really, and the people important to him. He can be messy – he rushes to get to what is important to him which means misplaced socks and shoes and sloppy handwriting. But he learns quickly, if nothing else to press through it, and he loves fiercely. He will lead well, as he learns humility and how to ease up on himself. It’s an interesting dichotomy I struggled with myself. Pridefulness accompanies talent and self-loathing comes with failure. His natural talents and driving competitiveness will serve him tremendously well as God helps him with the grace and forgiveness part. He loves his family, particularly his grandparents (he’s an old soul), and we’re all the better for his loving heart and his endearing sentimentality.

The baby is a mystery wrapped in a riddle. I may never figure him out. He’s funny and then brooding. His deep empathy and high EQ also result in a sensitive spirit which often exhibits as anger when he’s unsure what to do with the emotion. I label him my Renaissance man because his interests vary from cooking to sports to reading to creating Lego vehicles. Fishing is his biggest passion and he’ll practice casting in our pool when he’s away from the farm. He’s intense which means we struggle the most with him. Us learning how to parent him and him learning to funnel his emotions into healthy outlets will be the challenge in the years ahead. But he has a unique call on his life and an interesting gifting which compel us to figure it out.

We are confident 8 is going to be great! And all five of us will rise to the challenge. (As well as take your parenting tips!)