Announcing our new recruit to Team Francl

The gag order is over!  Yes, it's true.  We are expecting #3!!!!  If I were in your shoes, I'd have a lot of questions, so I'll just go ahead an answer them:

1.  Due date?  October 28, 2015

2.  How far along?  6 1/2 weeks

3.  That make the kids how far apart?  If this one comes on his due date, Lily will be 4 years and 1 month old, and Connor will be 19 months old.  Exactly.  We have a thing for birthdays on the 28th day of the month.

4.  How are you feeling?  So far so good.  I've started carrying snacks everywhere, because I need to eat a little something every couple of hours.  And the first trimester exhaustion is just starting to hit.  But this is all normal for me at this stage, and I absolutely cannot complain.

5.  Boy or girl?  For the first time ever in a pregnancy, I feel very strongly about the gender, and I have from the second I knew:  BOY.  I'm 99% sure this is a boy!  We'll find out in a few months for sure.

6. Name?  We know the name if it's a boy (and it is), but we're not sharing, not even with Lily and Connor.  So for now, this little one is Bitty Bear.  (Lily was "Little Bit" before she was born; Connor was "Baby Bit" before he was born; and now that they're here, Lily and Connor sometimes are "Sister Bear" and "Brother Bear" respectively.  So you can see how the nickname "Bitty Bear" came to be.)

7.  What do the kids think?  Lily is thrilled to "be a big sister again!"  She's also convinced that she has a baby in her tummy too.  She has told me multiple times that my tummy's getting bigger (thanks for that this early in the pregnancy, dear...) and that her tummy is too.  Last night she told me that when our babies come out of our tummies, she will hold my baby and I will hold hers.  "We'll trade, won't that be great, Mom!"  :)  She cracks me up!  And Connor is too little to know what's going on.  But if his sister is excited, he is excited.  So I guess he's looking forward to the new baby too.

8.  Planned or surprise?  Oh boy, isn't this the question!  (Be honest, it's what you really wanted to know, right?)  We knew the potential risks and benefits and took our chances.  Turns out we basically won the lottery!

To be totally honest, this pregnancy was more planned than I've let on to most everyone so far.  We weren't surprised in the least, and we're really, really excited!  When Connor was only a couple of months old I was already talking with Chase about the next one and when, Lord willing, that one might come.  And now, here it is!  I can't say we'll ever do things this close again, necessarily, and who knows how many more kids we'll even have. But this time around, Chase and I both agreed this was right for our family.  We were both ready.

This whole experience makes me want to apologize to all of my friends who have had kids closer than I thought was reasonable - as if I knew what was best for their family. So if you're one of those friends, I'm so, so sorry!  One friend in particular, I nearly cried for when she told me she was pregnant again so soon.  In that case it was a surprise and not planned in the least, but my response, I feel, placed my own judgement of appropriate child spacing upon her and her family.  I felt sorry for her - almost to the point of pity.  What right did I have to put that sort of a label on that child - something to be pitied?

It's all made me rethink how I respond to other people's situations.  We are called to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn.  So I'm not saying it's wrong to share in the shock, trepidation, fear, uncertainty, and all those other emotions that come along with unexpected or unplanned pregnancy.  But putting my personal ideas about the right way to plan a family on someone else's situation isn't right.  If things aren't sinful or wrong, then I should not treat them as if they are.

I have found that people tend to say "Congratulations" tentatively - like they're waiting to see if I'm genuinely excited or if I'm going to burst into tears at our folly of having to kids within 19 months of each other.  The more I think about it, I guess I appreciate this response.  It shows that others are willing to share with me in life exactly where I'm at - be that joy or grief or even both.

But let me be clear when I say I am excited.  EXCITED!!!!!

There will likely be some other big changes coming our way in the coming months, but the Lord knows them all now and is getting us ready for them.  For now, all 5 of us are resting in His sovereign plan for our family.

A celebration and blowout kind of day

Today we celebrated - really had a blowout kind of day.  First, we helped some dear friends move into the house they've been working on for 5 months.  There's still work to be done, but they are living there.  Tonight!  Celebration!

Then this afternoon, we went to my mom's parents' to celebrate both of their birthdays.  I won't tell you how old they turned, but I will tell you that I hope I age as gracefully and with as much spunk as they have.  They are a joy to be around, and all of my mom's branch of the family (save my sister who was away at college) got to celebrate and hang out for the afternoon at Grandma and Grandpa's house.  Hurray!

Finally, on the way home, we stopped off at a little Mexican restaurant for supper.  Conversation was good, the kids were great, the food was delicious.  Mmmm.  A great end to a great day... almost.

Connor had annihilated the rice and beef that I'd shared with him.  Annihilated it in such a way that it was all over the floor.  As we finished up, I bent over to try to mitigate the mess, and then it hit me:  the stench.  Sniff, sniff  It could only be one thing.

I picked Connor up, grabbed the diaper bag and excused the two of us to visit the changing table in the restroom.  There was a mom and two little girls ahead of us waiting for the single restroom.  You know the kind - it's a little 6x6 room that has the sign outside that designates it both a boys and girls restroom.

The door opened, the occupant left, and the waiting mom went in.  Connor looked over at me and gave me a monstrous Mexican-food caked grin.  I made a mental note to wipe his face down while changing him.

We waited.  And waited.  And waited.  And we all knew what that other mom was doing.  Clearly it wasn't going to be ideal to go in after her.  But we were dealing with poop too, so NBD.  As we waited, a lady got in line behind us.  Connor started shooting his most winning grins her way and eventually got bored of his upright perch in my arm.  He dive-bombed forward and I caught across his chest with my other arm.  I pretended to make him fly.  He was loving it!  But then his shirt came up a bit.

What was that?  Oh no.  No, no.  Blowout.  Darn.  At least the onsie caught it and it hasn't seeped through onto his jeans or over-shirt.  Don't lay him down on his back.  Sit him up and get his clothes off so it doesn't squish out more.

The mom FINALLY comes out of the bathroom.  Her daughter goes in.  The lady behind me leaves - too long of a wait.  I balance my son more carefully.  I don't want to inadvertently add to the mess I'll have to deal with.  Handle with care!

The daughter comes out, but just then a little boy comes prancing around the corner with his dad.  He clearly really REALLY has to go.  I graciously inform the dad that I'll be dealing with a blowout - his son should go first.  Son goes in.  Son eventually comes out.

By this time, I know that my family has finished whatever was left of their food, paid the bill, and is likely waiting at the door.  Fortunately, I'm an experienced mother.  A veteran.  I got this.  NBD.

We walk into the little 6x6 room and lock the door.  I see the changing table doesn't have those little paper covers, but there is a roll of that brown paper you dry your hands with.  I quickly unroll 2 lengths and lay them on the changing table.

I sit Connor down and reach for a diaper and wipes.  Connor reaches up and knocks the Glade automatic sprayer off of the little shelf next to the changing table.  Who put that there anyway?  Oh well, I'll pick it up and put it back when I'm done.

I take off his shirt and pants.  His onesie isn't just... well... dirty.  It's bulging.  In the back.  Like a muffin top.  Oh crap. (Literally)  Call for reinforcements!  I reach into my back pocket for my phone to text my mom.  Empty.  Other pocket!  Empty!!!!  Sigh.  Buck up!  Time to show 'em what you've got!  You've done this before!!!  You got this.  I unsnap the buttons on the bottom of the onesie and lift it up his back just enough to assess the situation.  The muffin top is poop.  All of it.  The diaper is no help here.

I look behind me and notice that the toilet and the toilet paper are both within reach.  I grab some toilet paper and lift the onesie again.  Swipe.  Sploosh.  The first offensive went well.  I go for it again.  Swipe.  Sploosh.  I hope that doesn't clog the toilet.

I reassess.  I roll his onesie down from his shoulders and off of his body.  There is still a LOT of poop in it!  Oh well. Where do I set it?  On top of his other clothes on the shelf below the changing table I guess.  I've broken through the front line!  Hurray!  I grab wipes and clean up his back.  Then I stand him up to undo his diaper.

The diaper comes off and I go for a wipe.  The room goes completely pitch black. What just happened?  Why....?  "Connor, leave the light switch alone!"  Why did they have to put the changing table so close to the light switch?  My son is standing on the changing table leaned over one arm as I use the other arm to contend with a diaper that gave up long ago.

I manage to flick the switch back on.  I see the trash can.  It's within reach if I stretch and can get the lid open.  Success!  The diaper is gone!

Then I survey the wreckage.  I have a poop covered son, held up by my poop covered hand, standing on a poop covered table.  Oh, and he's dive-bombing for a pile of poop on the pathetic effort at a changing table cover I put down moments ago in hopes that they'd be helpful.  Now those to strips of brown hand-drying paper are just another thing on which we have caked poop!

I divert Connor's attention from the pile of poop, quickly get rid of the brown paper (all while balancing my teetering son on the changing table) and reach for wipes to get my hand clean.  Pitch black.

"Connor.  Don't mess with the light switch!"

I flick it back on.  Things just got serious.  Giggle!  But this is hilarious!  But I have to hurry this up.  My family will think both Connor and I are buried in a pile of poop... Which we are, but we won't be for long!

I'm like a ninja.  I whip wipes around and clean like all forms of poopy darkness are closing in on me, but refuse to let them win!  Pitch black.

"Connor, seriously, quit with the lightswitch."

I finally get the boy clean (mostly), pull out a diaper and jammies and then lift Connor enough to put the jammies down on the changing table.  I stop short.  Sigh.  The changing table looks like... well... like a major blowout battle was fought and the blowout won.  I look at my naked son, look down at my jacket (already needing a wash thanks to supper getting all over the sleeve).  I shrug and settle Connor on my hip, reminding myself that the jacket has to be washed anyway.  I try not to think about the poop I didn't *quite* get off of his buns.

With one hand, I start wiping down the changing table.  Connor discovers (again) the little shelf next to the changing table that once held the Glade room spray.  With one hand, Connor nearly knocks the shelf down onto us.  Awesome.  Scoot away from that wall, but don't scoot so far that you can't continue to cleaning the changing table.

I finally decide it's clean enough to lay down the jammies, the diaper, and the boy.  Boy into diaper into jammies.  Hurray!!!!

I pick him up and go to grab the bag.  That's when I notice the onesie - my nemisis - still awaiting a safe place to travel home.

I have these fantastic little bags that I keep in my diaper bag for just such an occasion.  They're slightly scented like baby powder, and they really do hold in the smell and the mess very well.  Unfortunately, I'm down to my last bag on the roll.  You know how difficult it is to get the last bag of a trash bag roll unrolled? Yep.

I'm squatting next to the diaper bag, my son balanced on one arm (because public bathroom floors are gross, and that changing table, despite my best efforts isn't much better), trying desperately to unroll this stupid bag with my free hand when I hear my mom's voice, "Steph?  Are you ok?"

"Yeah!  I'll be out in a sec!"  I've been in here forever!  I bet there are 10 people lined up out there.  I wonder if staying in here until the place closes is an option?  No.  No, I can't.  My family is waiting.  Walk out proud and no one will suspect the battle!

FINALLY the bag is freed and opened.  I stuff dirty clothes in the scented bag, stuff the bag in the diaper bag, and hold my head high.

That place has never seen a mom walk through with such assurance and confidence.  Or at least that place has never seen a mom fake it so well.

Post Script - I did remember to put the Glade automatic room sprayer back on the little shelf.  Any who have used that room since us should be eternally grateful for that.

Post Post Script - It's a good thing he's so stinking adorable...

Over half of my life

On Wednesday, February 4, 2015, a major thing happened.  Something I've been talking about for months, something I've anticipated for years, something that happens to most people much later in life.  I hit the point that I've spent 1/2 of my life with my spouse that day.  And you know what?  I didn't even notice it.

Not because it wasn't important, and not because I wasn't looking forward to it.  Simply because life happens and often the urgent (diapers, snow days, dinner, work and the like) get in the way of focusing on the important (in this case, celebrating a major landmark in our relationship).

On February 4, 2000, Chase asked me if I would "go out with him."  So began the adventure that is us, and here we are 15 years later, still together.  Half of my time on this earth has been spent with this man.  I mean, we haven't been married for 15 years.  We'll celebrate 10 years of marriage this summer.  But 15 Valentines with him as my beau, 15 New Years with him to kiss (Ok, not really.  It took a while to work up to the kissing since we were so young!), 15 Christmases where I've searched for the perfect gift for him.  Fifteen years.

When I imagine Lily and Connor being 15 years old, it seems like 15 years is such a long, long time, but when I think back...  Ok, it does seem like a long time ago that he asked me out.  But not THAT long.

How old am I?  How did I get here?  Nearly 10 years of marriage, 2 kids, a dog, a cat, a minivan.

We've often joked that I'm an "old soul."  Part of me has always functioned like a 50 year old.  And we've joked that Chase is "a kid."  Most Part of him has always functioned like a 5 year old.  We're getting to the point where between the two of us we're averaging out to about 30 years old, and we're hitting our stride.

Valentine's Day is coming and we won't make a big deal about it.  We never do - it's just not our style.  But today, as I think back to the last 15 years and all that they've held, I just wanted to put out there, publicly, a few of the character traits about my man that have made the time so special:

Loyalty
Honesty
Servant's Heart
PATIENCE (especially with my particular brand of "crazy")
Love
Grace
Humor
Ornery-ness
Majoring on majors, not on minors
PATIENCE
Provider
Leader
Wisdom
Fun-loving
PATIENCE
Consistency
Support

You can see a theme - I don't think I'm very easy to live with, so much patience is required.  I'm opinionated.  I believe there are right ways and wrong ways to do things, and things in my house will be done the right way.  I expect a lot of others, but more of myself, and I regularly fall abysmally short of meeting my own expectations.  This only makes me mad and makes me work harder to meet the constantly-growing expectations.

My blessed husband has loved me in spite of and arguably because of the above for 15 years.  This man knew as a high schooler that he wanted to marry me (when I was worried about what I'd wear to Homecoming, he was wrestling with how to tell me he was really, truly in love with me).  How did he know, and why would he think such a thing?!?  I have no idea other than that his ear and heart have always had a bent to following the Lord's leading, which is what makes it a joy for this strong-willed-wife to walk in submission to my servant-leader husband.

Chase, we've been blessed with 15 years.  I yearn for so many more, because you have made these so full and fun.  YOU are who I want to face the coming days - the good, the bad, the joy, the heartache, the celebration, the pain that they will hold. Here's to the future, where for as long as we both live, I will be able to say that I have spent most of my life with you, and it was the best decision I ever made.

Moms judging moms

To all of my mommy friends, I have a confession.  I don't really want to say it, but I feel like it needs saying.  And after I say it, I will need to explain, so go with me on this...

I "judge" you whenever I'm around you.

There.  I said it.  And it's true.

Every time we have a play date, every time we hang out, every time we run into each other with our kids (or husbands) in tow, I am watching you.  I see how you respond to your infant's dimpled smile; I see how you put the toy just out of reach of your baby learning to crawl.  I watch you address your toddler's tantrum; I watch each time you offer food to your little.  I notice the way you hand your phone to your preschooler and how you call your school age child to come to the car, it's time to go.

I can't help myself!  I watch it all, and I assess it.

I go home and mention to my husband how you dealt with a situation.  I explain what I liked or didn't like about it.

And I'm not telling you this to make you uncomfortable around me.  Because, the truth is, I know you do it too (even if you don't want to admit it).  Maybe you don't rehash the details of day with your hubby quite like I do, but in your mind, you're doing it too.

But hear me when I say this:  I am on your team!

When I say I "judge" you, what I really mean is that I watch, take it all in, figure out what I like or don't like about how you live life, and I try to learn from it.  I put into practice what I see you do that I believe will be effective with my family.  And I try to avoid those things that I don't think will work with the rhythm of how the House of Francl functions.

I do NOT think you're a bad mom because you do things differently!  I may not like the way you addressed a tantrum, or the huge bow on your baby girl's head, or the car seat cover you use, or the type of jammies your kids wear.  But that doesn't mean that I think it's wrong that YOU do those things.  I only mean that they're not for ME.

There are rights and wrongs in the world, and I acknowledge that there are times I do make value judgments about how others do things.  Abuse and neglect are not ok.  Swearing or beating - those are clearly wrong.  But on the whole, you, my mommy friends, are amazing!  And we were each entrusted with these amazingly complicated creatures called kids.  Yours are different than mine, just like you are different than me.  Therefore, you function differently, do things in ways I wouldn't, and raise your kids in ways I won't, because you're you and I'm me.

Can we celebrate that?  Please?

I love the things I learn from the variety of friends I have as we ache through the growing pains of parenthood.  This thing ain't easy - from the sickness of early pregnancy, to the mountain that is labor and delivery, to the sleepless nights, weird diets, Curious George 4 million times, peas-in-the-hair-at-every-meal, running like crazy to keep up with the activities, worrying all the while that each decision will result in my somehow ruining my child.  And none of that even touches the foundational, lifelong challenge of character formation!

So, thank you, my friends, for letting me learn from you.  And please, learn from me - learn those things you want to do, and those things you don't.  And let's celebrate this life.

On that note, I want to take just a second to put in my two-cents about an issue that has filled my Facebook feed since I first got pregnant 3 years ago.  Vaccinations.

Oh. My. Word.  People!  If there was as much concern from people who are not parents about the unborn who are aborted each day as there is about whether or not my child is vaccinated, we would live in a world with many fewer abortions.  Holy smokes!!!

Here's the thing, no one, and I mean NO. ONE. cares more about my children than I do.  And, no one, NO. ONE. knows them better than I do.  I pour myself into these little beings day in and day out, and I watch them, closely.  So closely.

If there is something wrong with them, I know it.  And I will hunt, search, research, dig, press, push, and advocate on their behalf until I figure out how to fix it.

So when I choose not to vaccinate my newborn, know that I am doing so because I have agonized over it.  I have weighed the pros and cons.  I have read both sides' research.  I have assessed the health of my child and consequences to your child of me not vaccinating.

I am no idiot, and I am not against the public health.  BUT

But I will not put my child in a position with which I'm not comfortable simply because others are trying to bully me there.  And that goes for those who are pushing me NOT to vaccinate as well as those who are pushing me TO vaccinate.

Not that it matters, but my kids are vaccinated.  Not on the schedule that the APA puts out, but on a schedule that I am comfortable with based on my research of the vaccines, of my kids' risk factors of catching each disease, and of my kids giving your kids a disease should they catch it.  I have weighed it all.  And my decisions are ones that I will have to live with.  You don't need to remind me of that - I am acutely aware.

And I (incorrectly, I'm sure, but I choose to assume the best) assume that each mom makes this decision because it's what she believes is best for her kids based on their environment, their risk factors, their health, their situation, their rhythm of life.

Being a mom is hard enough without pressure (from people who aren't parents, by the way!) telling me what I ought and ought not to inject into my children.  When my diet is so restricted that I'm basically eating straight beef, pork, potatoes, peas and rice for weeks on end because anything else I eat bothers my nursing infant, there is no way NO WAY I'm going to inject ANYTHING into him until his body figures out how to handle mommy milk with a little grain in it first.  I am the one who will have to deal with the consequences of EVERYTHING that I allow into his little body and environment, not you.  I take these decisions very, very seriously.

I'm ranting.  I think you get my point. I'm just tired of it.  I know there was a measles outbreak.  I know it's a miserable, dangerous disease.  And I'm sorry for those facing very scary days because of it.  I am.  But bashing what I believe is best for my family isn't going to fix the measles problem.  Probably it's just going to entrench me more into my way of thinking.

And to all you moms who have had to make the vaccination decision, either way (because whether you vaccinate or not, you're making a decision about it), without researching the pros and cons to both sides, take an evening and read up on what is in that little vial that they're injecting into your baby.  Research how developed immune systems are at what ages, and what your risk factors are for various diseases.  I'm not saying do vaccinate, and I'm not saying don't.  I'm saying educate yourself so that when someone tries to bully you into doing what they think is right for your kid, you can stand up to them and tell them to stuff it where the sun don't shine.  YOU are the mom.

God chose you to raise your kids, and you have to stand before Him one day and answer for the way you did it.  You are the only one who can know which decision is right for your family on vaccinations and SO MANY other, much more important issues.

So back to my original point:  I watch you, and you are amazing.  Keep on, mom.  Keep on.

The big tease

The weather around here this January has been wonderful.  So wonderful, in fact, that it's been nothing but a big tease.  We've already had a couple of weeks of single digit temps, but they warmed up well beyond just double-digits.  In fact, this is what we were doing only a few days ago:

Notice the utter lack of coats, the stylin' glasses, and the super-fast bikes.  Me and 3 of my girlfriends met with our kids to head to the park, and the babies rode in the strollers while these two awesome kids rode their bikes.

This was Connor's first time in the swing, and he didn't cry at all!  (His sister would have been sobbing simply because she was sitting in a swing at this age.  She finally conquered her fear of swinging this summer when she was almost 3.  But each in their own time, right?)  Connor watched Eli swing, because the best way to learn to do something is by watching your buddy who's done it before.  And then they had a great time together.

Besides Lily and Noah (the boy on the bike), and Connor and Eli, there were also 2 other babies along - Jamison and Jeremiah - but somehow I missed getting pictures of them.  Of course, that could be because they're really too tiny to even do the baby swings, but they were there and watched the older kids.  In any case, we were at the park a few days ago, without coats, sitting in the gravel, soaking up the sun (and some much-needed Vitamin D).

(These two had so much fun together - Lily kept asking and asking and asking that evening to go back to the park.)

But today the tease ended and reality set it.  About 6 inches of snow has covered our area overnight.  Church was cancelled due to frigid temps, unsafe driving conditions, and blowing snow.  *Sigh*  At least we're healthy, warm, and sharing the snow day together, even if I would prefer the 60 degree temps...

Lily got a snow shovel for Christmas and LOVES to shovel snow.  She was pretty determined that she needed to go outside and help Daddy when he started getting his snow clothes on to go scoop snow.  She didn't comprehend the -14 degree wind chills, however, until she was outside.  At which point it took her exactly 30 seconds to comprehend.  She was back out of this adorable snow getup about 1 minute after this picture was taken.

That's when we decided to play cars.  The baking sheet was our ramp, and kept us occupied for quite a while.  It also occupied the cat, who (before this picture was taken) crouched on the far side of the cookie sheet to pounce on the cars that came over the edge.  But then he got hit and took a break so I could get this picture.  Then he resorted to attacking the cars before they even got to the ramp.  Revenge is sweet, even for a cat.

Connor thought the whole thing was pretty funny.

Lily hasn't had too much trouble with Connor up until the last month or so when he's really been mobile.  Before it was neat to Lily that he thought everything she did was the coolest.  Now, it's just annoying, as you can clearly see.  Fortunately, I had another potato head in my stash, so we played nicely after I got that out and we had 2 to share between them.

Everyone has this obligatory picture, right?  But this is basically the cutest one you've ever seen?  Yeah.  That's what I thought.  :)

Plans for the rest of the night include chili, cinnamon rolls, and the Super Bowl.  Oh, and possibly Downton Abbey for me (thankfully we have a 2nd TV!).  I hope your snow day has been as enjoyable as mine!

The New Van

My van is dying.  We bought it (obviously) used just before Lily was born over 3 years ago, and it has served us well for about 45,000 miles.  It's had thorough cleanings and regular maintenance, but it's old - a 2003 Chevy Venture with 175,000+ miles on it.

So before the end of the year, we decided to go van shopping in hopes of finding a stellar deal and helping someone clear out some inventory from their lot.

I've never really car-shopped before, at least not the car-lot kind of car shopping.  New cars aren't a reality in our world, and because my dad has a dealer's license, most of my cars have come through my dad.  It goes like this:

Me:  Dad, I want/need a way to get around.
Dad:  What did you have in mind?
Me:  I don't have a lot of $, but I'd like a [fill in car/van/truck/color/wants here].  Do you know of anything?
Dad:  Let me do some checking...

And then he comes up with something close to what I thought I wanted and for such a good deal that I can't possibly say no.

That is how "car shopping" has gone for me on all but 2 vehicles I've bought in my life.  The two that didn't follow that pattern were cars we bought for Chase, and cars he found and we basically only talked to the owners of those cars and purchased them directly that way.

So driving around used car lots in the final week of 2014 was weird.  I felt like I was more savvy than most car buyers out there - I'd done my research, knew, generally, what I wanted, and was equipped with my iPhone with NADA.com and KBB.com at the ready!

We drove around on the last Saturday of the year just as car lots were closing, and we had NO intentions of buying that day.  The purpose was simply to drive around and see what was available close to home so we knew if we needed to go to Lincoln or Omaha to look.  There was enough in our price range nearby that we decided Monday was the day.

It was snowing and frigid here on Monday and the roads were not great at all.  As I drove the kids to their aunt's house to play for the afternoon, I wondered if anyone would even let me test drive a vehicle on those roads.  But at that point, I was committed - kids in the car, arrangements made to look at a number of vehicles, I wasn't backing out.

I drove one van at one lot and felt like everything they had was way over-priced.  Plus, I wasn't crazy about what I'd driven there at all.  The next place I stopped at was kind of on a whim.  I had seen their online inventory and I knew there was nothing there we could afford or that fit our needs.  But I thought, what the heck?  I'm here.  Maybe they have something that's not listed online...

The salesman talked me into driving a white minivan - I don't like white minivans - and it was more than $2,000 more than what we wanted to spend.  That may not sound like a whole lot to some of you, but in our world, that's a LOT of $$$!  Financing isn't an option we use for vehicles, so our bank account had to be able to pay for anything we bought.

I drove the van and despite the white color, I loved it!  It was SO much nicer than I thought we could get.  I didn't get attached, but started working on the salesman - before I'd just told him I had kids and was looking to buy a van.  As we test drove this van, I mentioned that my dad owned a mechanic shop nearby, and my brother-in-law owned the large mechanic shop just down the street from the dealership - could I run the van by them to have them check it out.

Then as we parked and headed back in to the showroom, I mentioned that I couldn't really make any decision without my husband there - we both needed to be in agreement. And then I asked why they had the van so over-priced as it booked at $1,000 under what they were asking for it.

Over the next 3 hours, I took the van to my brother-in-law who gave it a once over and his agreement that it was in good shape for its miles/age.  I met Chase and he drove the van, and we both agreed it would be a great van to have, if we could afford it.  Finally we ended up back at the dealership and worked our way up through the salesman to the manager, and eventually through the manager to an owner.  And ultimately, we got the van for a price we could afford!  I'm not sure the place we bought from made much $ on us, but I told them from the start that they weren't going to make a lot of $ on me.

I can say this after having talked to salesmen at at least 5 different lots about different vehicles:  people with unpalatable occupations/habits don't trade cars in to dealers/used car lots.  All of the vehicles we expressed interest in were owned by teachers, principals, bankers, or "good Christian people."

As Chase and I drove away with our "new van" we joked that it had been owned by a pastor, blessed by the pope, washed only in holy water, and was otherwise the most religious van in the world!  Honestly, all it took to get the "it was owned by a pastor" out of the salesman was to mention that I work at a Christian school!

At any rate, here is a stock photo of our new ride - I'd take a real picture, but it's covered in snow!  And my favorite feature:  cloth heated seats!  (I hate leather seats!)

 

Christmas, snow, and the last of 2014

This year was easily the funnest year so far in this Francl house.  I mean, there is no Christmas better than one you experience when you're 3 years old.  So. Fun!!!!  Here is how it went...

Christmas Eve - The Francl Side

On Christmas Eve, Chase worked 1/2 a day and then headed to his parents' house after Connor got up from his nap.  It was, perhaps, the longest 1/2 day of Lily's life.  We had been to Chase's parents a few days before, and she'd scoped out the presents under the tree.  There was a present for her, and it was wrapped in Frozen wrapping paper.  I think by the time we left the house at 2:30 on Christmas Eve, she had asked me at least 1,000 times when she'd get to open her "Frozen present."  We talked again, and again, and again, and again about exactly what would happen after Connor woke up and Daddy got home.  

But all that anticipation is part of the fun! 

We got to Grandma's, ate supper, and then it was FINALLY time!  See how excited she is:

(Just to clarify about the jammies she's wearing...  We always take the kids jams when we go to Grandma's house and stay till bedtime.  Often the kids fall asleep on the way home.  On Christmas Eve, as soon as supper was over and we were cleaning up in the kitchen, Lily volunteered to changed into her jams because it was getting dark.  I think that part of her thought process was that putting on jammies would help speed the present process.)

Connor enjoyed the fun and mayhem that is Christmas at Grandmas too, though without the intense focus on opening presents:

We are blessed to have family close by who we get to enjoy.  And we are grateful that we have the privilege of exchanging gifts as a way of showing love with them.  I feel like Christmas and presents often get a bad wrap - either they are accused of signifying the commercialization of Christmas, or they are a huge stress for the buyer to purchase and unliked by the receiver anyway.  And those things can be true and, sadly, often are.  But for me, for us, gifts are a way we show love to those dearest to us, just as God did that first Christmas when He gave us the ultimate gift: His Son.

Christmas Morning - The House of Francl

I love Christmas morning when it can be lazy, unrushed, and led by the kids.  At about 8, Lily woke up and came into our room to let us know she was up.  I asked her if Santa had come and filled the stockings.  She trotted out of our room to check and was back right away to let us know that, indeed, Santa had come!  I told her that was wonderful, but she needed to wait until Connor woke up before we could open them.

She walked back out to the living room to gaze at the stockings, and we heard her say to herself, "Happy Christmas Lily!"  :)  It was SO fun!

I remembered how much I hated the "waiting"time on Christmas morning, waiting for siblings and parents to get up.  It was SO HARD to wait! So I offered to let Lil watch PBS Kids on my Kindle while she snuggled in our bed until Connor woke up.

He got up at about 8:30, and the festivities began:

We started with the kids' stockings, and it was marvelous.  They sat on the couch together and Lily gave a running commentary.  "Oh!  I have another present in my stocking.  [As she unwraps it] I wonder what is in it? Wow!  It's a...."  Beside her, Connor would play with whatever thing was pulled from his stocking (I didn't wrap his things).  By the time they were done, Lily and Connor sat on the couch, surrounded by all manner of fun odds and ends, completely content.

We took a break for breakfast, and then headed back to the living to tackle the tree:

It was one of the funnest Christmases because of the kids, but also because of the presents Chase and I got for each other.  He got me a TV for our bedroom, a gift I didn't really know I wanted, but I have TOTALLY enjoyed since we got.  And I got him a step stool that he's been asking for for months.  (I got him a WiiU for his birthday the week before, so the step stool was very well received, and he admitted how oddly excited he was to finally have a step stool.)  It was just one of those Christmases where we nailed the gifts - things we wanted that we didn't really even know we wanted.

We were done with gifts by the time Connor went down for his first nap, so during the rest of the morning and early afternoon, we got cleaned up and ready for the next Christmas...

(Lily, sporting her new Frozen outfit - I can't even tell you how excited she was to wear it!)

Christmas Evening - Dad's

On Christmas evening we headed to my dad's house for Christmas with him and my siblings.  He always cooks us a great prime rib and all the fixings, and we stuff ourselves with way too much food.  Then there's gifts and games.

Being our 3rd Christmas in 2 days, Lily was well-rehearsed with the presents portion of the evening.  She "helped" everyone open their presents, and did a fantastic job taking turns and being patient.

By the time we made it through dinner, presents, and a game, the kids were spent from all the excitement, so we headed home with one Christmas left on the horizon.

The day after Christmas - Mom's

Christmas at Mom's with my siblings usually starts with a big brunch in the mid-morning.  It couldn't come soon enough for Lily.  And then the poor dear had to wait through brunch until her brother woke up from his first nap.  Fortunately, he didn't sleep very long!

Mom does stockings for each of us, and then gifts under the tree, too, so it is pretty exciting and takes awhile.  By this time, even Connor knew the drill and really enjoyed the whole thing.

Lily, was clearly excited. Also she was the one with the most presents under the tree.  In my my mom's defense, Lily was SO easy to buy for this year!  She is developing and learning so much, and the things you buy for her are, well, cheap. So it really looked like she got a lot (and she did!).

Connor thought he had a pretty good haul too.

After presents, we all just relaxed all day until we had cheese fondue and chocolate fondue for supper. Then we packed up and headed home.

Wrapping up 2014

One of the gifts Lily got was a snow shovel, and she was thrilled with it!  But there was no snow to scoop.  The forecast had chances of snow in the couple of days following Christmas, and we have had more fun with that little shovel than any other thing she got this year:

She does dink around with the shovel some, but Lily is actually really helpful with it too.  She scooped the sidewalk 1/2 way to the neighbor's house.  It takes her a little while, and it's not quite as clean as if Chase or I did it, but it's not bad!  She did all of the scooping in the picture below herself:

And if you have snow and have to scoop it, then you really ought to sled!  So we did.  We met up with cousins and uncles and grandpa who had arranged for the side-by-side to drive us back up the hill.  Lily and I did one run down the big hill that ended in a spectacular head over heels wipe out (including many tears, though no real hurts).  After that, I pulled her around on a very shallow slope on a sled and we watched the cousins fly down the hill and wipe out.  Until Lily's toes got cold...

The only solution for cold toes is huddling in the truck to warm up.  So that's how we spent the second 1/2 of the sledding experience.  But by the time we left, Lily was warm and agreed that she had fun!

The last Sunday of 2014, we got to celebrate the baby dedication of dear friend.  He's the little guy right next to me in the picture below.  In my current network of friends, these 3 girls are some of my closest and dearest friends.  They know my schedule, keep me accountable, call me out when I'm being ridiculous, and support me when I can't keep going on my own.  These girls are amazing and I hope you have friends like them in your life.  And you'll notice in the picture that each of us is holding a little boy.  In the span of about 18 months, each of us was blessed with a little boy!  And in another 3 months or so, we'll have a 5th boy - the girl all the way on the right is just starting her 3rd trimester!  So fun to raise our families together and learn and grow in this stage of life together!!!

There is one more story from 2014 I want to share, but I'll save it for another post.  To close this one, I'll just share this little gem (I can hardly take the cuteness!!!):

2014 wasn't perfect, but it definitely had its high points and blessed the socks off of we Francls.  Cheers to 2015 and all that it will hold!