Some good reads

Some good reads

4 Things Every Wife Needs From Her Husband

5 Signs You Lack Integrity

Welcome to My World

My world where my house is a mess.  I would love to have it clean and organized and spic and span.  With three children under 4 and another on the way (surprise!) and with motivation lacking let me just tell you it doesn’t happen.  I swear when I was single and when it was just me and my husband and I was jobless…it was spic and span.  No dirty dishes, no dust, toilet clean.  So there is hope that one day, when children are grown, when I won’t miss a moment with them, that the house will return to what the world expects. 

My world where I would prefer to sit on the floor and play with my children.  To let them crawl on me.  To watch them play with their toys and sing.  Watch their little motions, the little things they do.

 A world where if I need a time-out I do go to the computer.  Where I need to have more self-control and don’t need to see every single persons update.  

A world where my kids do help me cook.  My four year old does use a butcher knife to cut chicken.  A steak knife to cut her own steak.  They pour their own milk.  Use the microwave.  Stir on the hot stove.  

They also do chores.  They bring in the wood.  They clean up, they switch the laundry, they scrub the toilet, do the dishes, mop and vacuum.  They do as they are told when they are told to do so.

A world where wooden spoons are used for more than stirring.  Spankings do happen.  If my child is rude, disobedient, disrespectful or whiney or just plane is naughty they do place their hands on the couch and stick their booty out.  

My kids do go outside to play.  We try very hard to live without fear.  Without worry.  We are not scared of spiders, worms, bugs or bees.  (Mommy is still working on creature thing).  We climb trees and go high.  We swing high.  We dig in the dirt.  We suit up and help daddy weld, get under the car with him to fix things, shoot real guns.  We climb cupboards to get what we need.  We shower from birth.

Some may think our world is stupid.  But it’s our world and welcome to it (please note if I “watch” your kid I use the worlds standards not ours🙂  )

It may sound like we are out of control but we truly aren’t.  My kids will hold the door for you.  Hold your hand in the parking lot.  They will say “please”, “thank you”, “pardon” and “may I”.  They will take their shoes off at your house.  They will serve you even if you don’t want it.  They will also be kids.

We will play first then eat at mcDonalds.   We will have picnics in the park, go on random road trips, spoil our kids just because we can, just because we love them.  We will ride the rides at walmart.  We will enjoy cuddles and staying up late watching movies.  We play games even if we hate them, play barbies, attack “Power Rangers”, sing like crazies and dance with princesses.  We play hard and get dirty.

We say I love you.  We kiss.  We hug.  Our kids see us kiss and hug.  We use kind words and apologize if we fail.  We don’t curse, actually we don’t even say butt.  We don’t drink (may as well avoid temptation).  We will “kiss a boy when we are married” and have kids when we are married.  We will be a light to the world.

We will speak up, be loud, be bold, be courageous.  (To be honest we are still working on this).  We will love, serve, help and have fun fun fun.  

So no the house isn’t clean.  The chores aren’t done.  The kids are filthy.  Bathes are missed.  Motivation is being worked on, self-control is being worked on.  But the kids are happy, healthy, strong, and super duper loved and number one.  We only have a split second with them.  Enjoy them, invest in them.  They are our future, my future.  They are worth my time, worth sacrifice.  

Welcome to our world.  

It’s all Ham

My kids are obsessed with “ham.”  The lunch meat kind.  They have eaten whole pound bags in a day, they climb counters and fridges to get it, they fight over who gets to hold the bag and they cry when there is none left.   But the funny thing is it doesn’t matter what kind of lunch meat it is.  It is all ham to them.  Right now they are eating chicken ham.   So if my kids ask you for ham really any lunch meat will do, it’s all ham to them …as long as it’s rolled.  It must be rolled.  

I’ve come to realize that to most people in my world I am constantly ham to them.  I never change.  I am always the same no matter what situation I am going through.  I may be on the highest high or the lowest low, they may know my situation, they may not, regardless I am always the same, always ham.  Basically.  They don’t care.  They may ask how I am, but they don’t want the real answer.  They may ask what’s going on, but they don’t really care as long as I say it’s going good, I’m good…that’s all they really want to hear.  

The contents of my fridge may change, but it’s always ham to my kids.  The situations and struggles in my life may change, but to most people I’m Jessi and it doesn’t really matter to them.  

This isn’t necessarily a new realization, but it is a realization that I don’t want to be like all those people.  When I ask how someone is I genuinely want to care, I genuinely want to hear their answer and I want to do something to help them if they are low.  I want to genuinely celebrate with them if they are on a high.  I don’t want to see them as plane old Joe, Mark, Sarah or Jane.  I want to see them as people that have ups, downs, feelings and aren’t just the same old piece of ham I see every day.  

Now there are a couple people in my life who don’t think my fridge always has the same old ham.  There are a few constants in my life who really want to know what’s in my fridge when they ask.  And I know this is true, by their response.  They genuinely celebrate, or grieve with me, they go out of their way to help and if they can’t help they pray with me right then and there…and then they check up on me.  Those people I am so thankful for and the funny thing is those are the people I’ve known the longest.  The people who have been with me through a lot, who have been my neighbors (so to say) and our relationship has lasted through weeks of no contact and long distance.  I want to be this person, wether I just me them or have known them for a while, to everybody I meet.

This is a good way to be the Jesus they need to see.  The light they need.  The love they need.  There are a lot of hurting people and there are very few people who know how to love on these.  

It’s not all just ham.



The Nuts

So I missed reading this morning…that’s apparently the key to my success, stress-lessness and peace!  I will never do that again!  

Immediately the moment my feet hit the floor, whine, argue, fight, cry, scream, wake brother, cry, oober oober sore nursing (just being real), medicine to two different children, diaper changes, trying to sell stuff online to buy bug bite medicine and insect repellent and glue for the daycare all while kids try to tackle you, garage sale-ing for a pac-n-play you so desperately need by monday all while three children cry and fight in the back seat, find awesome cute princess hooks, daughter drops them and they break, trying to fix a crib husband was supposed to put together so long ago, gluing and duct taping a high chair husband was supposed to put together, oozing bloody mosquito bites, spic and span house turn upside down in a matter of hours, bbq on fire in the rain, sprinkler left on while it rained out (smack head here), water on tap left on as bbq being dealt with, and burned beans to go with the scorched burgers, screen door open during this whole scene allowing numerous pesky mosquitos in, fail at attaching training wheels onto bike, stressing about money, missing my best friend, help-mate, lover and I forgot to feed the minions breakfast……just one of those days.

Yet as I sit and think of all the crap that happened I can’t help but laugh at the 40lb girl carrying the 30lb girl with a piggy back ride and walking like a newborn deer…hilarious…or washing and dressing 10 dollies…or having my cheeks grabbed ridiculously hard and my lips and cheeks sucked on in a very passionate kiss by a big eyed cute lil man and then he sits back and just looks at me and talks, quite proud of himself…melts my heart…or the birthday party the girlies threw for me since I never got one with cheese cake and cards/presents and birthday song…priceless….and cheesecake…duh!…lining some things up to sell tomorrow…cha ching!…and a friend giving me a free highchair…yes!…and a client selling me their pac-n-play to me…cheap and delivered!…

And now I realize I missed out on the most important thing…enjoying my beauties, laughing with them and enjoying them……heartbroken…

Don’t miss it 

Twister 1 & 2

Today I swept and vacuumed and mopped.  I did dishes, laundry, tidied and took the garbage out.  Yet if someone were to walk into my home would they know it?  Heck no.  No way Hosea. 

Usually Addy is called the Tornado.  Hair matted and in her face.  Face filthy with dirt and food.  Clothes either falling off, off and always got some sort of something on them.  And always getting into things.  Pulling up chairs to microwave, turn taps on, climb cupboards.  Pulling toys out of her room by the barrel full.  And leaving a trail of crumbs everywhere she goes.  But today…I have two tornados.  Parker too looks like a ferrel child.  Pants hanging at the bottom of her tooshy, constantly picking her nose, and digging in the dirt.  Spilling water everywhere.  Tripping over a hot glue gun cord, making it fall, making a cup fall and break and once again spilling water everywhere.  Oh joy I have two of them today!  

I have surrendered to the cause of the tornados.  

Husband will just have to understand and thank goodness we’ve been invited to someone elses house to eat.  

Now to just restrain these tornados, to refine them a little and make them presentable to the world.  

Even though they are chaotic I am still ever so thankful for them and so thankful that I get to stay at home and raise them.  I dreamed of nothing else when it came to parenting.  Blessed

Reader discretion advised. Graphic.

My little man is one month tomorrow.  After having two girls man is having a boy different.  It’s almost like being a first time mom all over again.  The worst?  Diaper changes.  Whoa boy!  My potty training technique of letting them run around in their birthday suit is going to have to be rethought. 

It may all seem new, but everyday I am thankful.  Thankful that I get to raise him and not Jesus in heaven.  It’s all still so raw.  Wounds take time to heal.

February 2010.  I pee on a stick.   I run to my husband and we shout I’m pregnant again!  About 7 weeks later I start to bleed, but convince myself it’s nothing.  About a week later husband goes out of town.  I go to my ultrasound appointment.  I pee on a stick.  I’m not pregnant. 

I’m heart broken.  Husband portrays a whatever attitude (men deal differently and express differently it’s not that it was whatever).  I close my eyes and see witches.  I can’t sleep.  I can’t think about it or see anything about babies or I break down.  My baby is now in heaven and I no longer get to see her (or him). 

Addy comes along! And there is no fear or doubt, because miscarriage is not the norm.

September 2011. I have this weird feeling that I’m pregnant again.  I want to be, but am concerned about what others will think about it being so soon and three is becoming to some “too many.”  The stick is peed on.  With all those previous concerns mixed with joy I bring it to my husband crying.  He laughs and celebrates.  My parents reassure me and celebrate.

Fear creeps in. Doubt creeps in.  Memories of the past creep in.  My husband is at work.  I call him.  I’ve lost the baby.  He takes off work.  He tries to distract me.  We sit on the couch unable to eat.  Unable to cook for our family.  Struggling to function again.

I contract.  I sit on the toilet and feel the baby come out of me.  I sit there for an eternity and finally stand up.  There in the toilet is an inch long fetus.  With a legs, a tail and eyes.  I can’t flush her (or him).  He sits in a q tip box for a week.  Finally I have strength enough to say goodbye and not feel guilty and flush.  Baby 1 now gets to introduce their sibling to Jesus.  But what about me?

February 2012.  My husband has gone out of town for work.  I am on my way to the church to work.  Walking out of Subway unaware of what I just purchased at the store Parker says ” I’m going to have a brother.”  We get to the church.  I pee on a stick.  I shout for joy.  Parker screams too.  I call my husband and leave a message.  I call my father-in-law (who works with hubby) and he goes and tells husband…we’re going to have a baby!”

2 days later, on my knees on the bathroom floor I call my husband unable to communicate anything but “he’s gone.”  Husband is unable to communicate anything but anger and hanging up on me.  My baby didn’t even have a chance.  And my husband now was facing what every  christian at some point in their life faces.  Is it really better to serve God?  

(Don’t worry he chose yes).

May 2012.  I follow my husband across the country.  We change our whole lives. 

June 2012.  I pee on a stick again.  I’m pregnant again.  We rejoice again.  We tell no one.  Every time I go pee it’s a battle not to look in the toilet.  Every day fear and doubt is fought.  7 weeks comes and goes.  9 weeks comes and goes.  12 weeks comes.  There is still a baby in my tummy.  I am showing.  I’m in the clear!  Yet every single day there is fear and doubt and thoughts of death that have to be pushed away.  I am terrified to go to the doctor.  Will there be a heartbeat?  Then I start to feel flutters.  God telling me everything will be ok.  Quit worrying.  When I struggled I would ask Him to make baby move.  He did.  Every  time I felt a kick I rejoiced in my faithful God.  I was nervous every time I went to the doctor, but cried every time the Doppler was on my tummy and I heard the thump thump. 

Even when I was waddling like a penguin, knew he was a boy, was a punching bag every day fear was dealt with.  Fear kills.  I refused to dwell on it and moved on.

February 18 2013.  Three days after my due date I went to my midwife for a check-up.  I had been 1 cm for 2 weeks.  My mucus plug was already escaping.  Contractions were unpredictable, but incredibly painful at times. And that morning I was contracting pretty regularly.  Husband came with me to that appointment.  The nurse felt it necessary to get me in before everyone else that had been waiting before me.  I lay on the table and husband sat in a chair.  The midwife put the doppler on my tummy.  She moved it around.  She pushed and moved it around some more.  She asked me if I felt him move.  I couldn’t remember.  She searched some more.  Husband stood up.  She found it.  120 and very faint.  Fear was in all our faces.  She told us to go straight to the hospital.  She said she would call and tell them to put me on the monitors. 

It was a long half hour drive to the hospital.  Not sure if I was feeling movement or contractions. 

They took us straight to a room.  Hooked me up to the heart beat monitor and contraction monitor and my heart beat.  The heart beat looked good.  Praise Jesus! 

In came the ultrasound technician.  He said he had 45 minutes to find heartbeat, lung movement, and body movement.  The heartbeat was fine.  35 minutes pass.    Finally he got it!

But the fluid was very low.  I wasn’t going home.  I was already contracting but I  was to be induced and get this baby out.  They gave me the pill and I walked and walked.  All Wednesday I walked. I didn’t dilate much more. And the contractions died down.  They let me rest that night.

Thursday…I contracted, I walked, I lied down, the contractions stopped.  Over and over again.  I was exhausted.  The contractions were becoming more serious and the moaning started.  But when the midwife got there they died down again.  Then they started again.  Pain. They put an IV in for fluid. The midwife at 3pm said I can continue to walk and try to do it on my own (which is how I wanted to do it, planned to do it, could only imagine doing it, but doubted that I would be able to again for some reason since the beginning of the pregnancy).  So she said I could continue on my own, but if my 6 pm nothing has happened I’m to be given an epidural and seriously induced. 

After the nurses left.  Husband came over and looked at me and simultaneously I cried and said, “I’m sorry I just can’t do it anymore” and he said “just do it.”  He ran after the nurse.

She came back in an explained everything that was about to happen.  The epidural man came in.  The scariest moment of my life occurred.  If the IV hurt this much, who wants a huge needle stuck up your spine?!  Husband and the nurse held me as I sat on the edge of the bed contracting and crying and more scared then I have ever been in my entire life.  They tell me to stay still.  How is one to stay still when your body is seizing up in contractions?  Yet I managed to, only with my amazing husband whispering in my ear.  I couldn’t have done it without him.  But then the nurse and the epidural guy told him to sit down asap and called in a nurse to bring juice and crackers.  He was as pale as the bed sheets. 

He survived and I did too.  After a few extra squeezes of the medicine I was painless.  With a catheter awkwardly in me and an oxygen mask on me and the induction meds being pumped in I was under control.  I dilated quickly.  The nurse was there.  The midwife was at home.  I was a ten.  The midwife was on her way.  I told the nurse she should check me.  “He’s crowning”  The other nurses scrambled.  The midwife runs in, street clothes and all.  Catches.  Kainan Fernando Claro Baca is born.  Alive.  Cute.  Looking just like his sisters.  Success.  Tears.  God is faithful.  My husband never looked prouder. 

Even though nothing went as planned.  Even though I felt like a huge failure.  Even though it wasn’t natural like I always dreamed of.  My son is alive and healthy, this somehow brought my husband and I so much closer.  I feel more loved than I ever have before by him, and we function as a team more than we ever have.  He also exceeded all expectations of taking care of me. I could not be prouder of my husband.   I cannot look at all that went wrong.   I have so much to be thankful for.  I get to raise this one to be God’s little man.  God is faithful.  I cannot say it enough.

The journey isn’t over.  It took a week and a half to get over constant post-partum crying.  He is here, but fear is still pushed away about his health.  And my lover’s and my dream of our family is renewed (He gives us the desires of our heart).  Our first conversation ever was about how many kids we want.  4   .   And close in age. God will grant it.  And nothing can stop it.  He is faithful.

Thanks for reading and don’t be ashamed to laugh when he pees on his own face!


Eye Boogers

Have you ever had eye boogers?  I noticed it the beginning of this week in Addison.  She had a cold and it seemed as if the boogers began to manifest in her eyes and she literally had yellow grossness in them.  Caused the wonderful eye crustees in the morning and thankful after a few days it disappeared….until it hit me a day ago and now my right eye has the pleasure of eye boogers.

A few nights ago husband and I were talking about 2012.  We asked each other what the best parts of 2012 were for each other and it was very obvious that 2012 will not be a notable year to remember at the end of our run on earth.

The highlights of my year were my three year olds birthday party and her first dance recital.  That’s it.  Those were the biggest highlights of my year.  Pretty sad really.  I’m sure I could have been the one to change that, to make a difference in my own life.  To bring a little sunshine, but I didn’t and Hakkuna Mata…moving on.

Psalm 30:5b says “weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”

Last year was like the eye boogers for us.  Yet another miscarriage, husband traveling for work, teenage drama, single-mom-dom for 3 months, selling all the contents of our beloved house, packing up, and prepping for a cross country move by myself (thankful for loving parents to assist), many hurts from many people we loved that almost a year later the love walk still has to be purposefully chosen, getting pregnant again and going through the muck of serious doubt and fear, a dramatic kicked out of house due to crazy landlord, living in a travel trailer, moving to another state, and ending living with in-laws for 2 months (thankful to them, but not where anyone truly wants to live).

The booger to my eye.

But it goes away and joy comes in the morning.  That’s a promise, that joy will come in the morning.  It’s God’s Word and God cannot lie, therefore you can expect joy.  You can expect that that eye booger in your life will go away and be replaced with laughing, happiness, all out joy.  Joy even if you still remember the turmoil, joy even if your not sure why your laughing.  Joy will come.

And alas, 2013 pulled around the corner.  A baby that is due any day now and I thank God every time I feel him kick.  A place all of our own.  A now two year old, who has a personality all of her own and is going to great things for God.  A three and a half year old that has serious God on her, who speaks in tongues, sings constantly, sees angels and if you read the Bible to her don’t plan on stopping because she seriously is addicted.  A husband and wife who’s relationship has been stretched and tested, pulled in directions that aren’t good and survived and is now thriving.  Opportunity for ministry once again.  And many new and hopeful things to look forward to this new year.

Last year I was thankful to be surviving.  This year I’m going to thrive and my family will too.  We’re going up and those eye boogers are not going to take over my year.

Psalm 30:5b says “weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”

2 year old Addy bear My baby girl is 2! Personality


So this has pretty much been the craziest year of my life and it’s totally time to get back on track.

Husband leaves in March for a new job…I quickly become a single mom for 3 months.

I then have one month to pack up and sell almost my entire house to move across country.

We move across country and man those mountains in Colorado are crazy! I will never forget a little girl sitting behind me yelling “I smell smoke!! I smell smoke!!!”  Yes the van in front of me pulling a families belongings had smoking barely working breaks going down the mountains with my husband in it.  Talk about freaky and a good time to ask the angels to get to work.

But alas we made it and stayed a week in a hotel room (with two little people) and then proceeded to move into our current house.  A cute place with a fenced yard and a garage.  Neighbors almost all retired folk and I made new friends with goat heads…not the kind attached to a goat’s body, but the kind that grown in weeds in the ground and are little balls of pain, literally.

We’ve been here for 3 months.  Last week our landlord showed up (she lives in California).  She got upset that we had some weeds, even though I do weed.  She showed up every day last week, putting a third gate into the backyard, which we all need three gates to one space.  She also did other things, but mostly complained and we said Friday when hubs wasn’t in school or work would do what we can to make it to her expectations.  Everything was fine Thursday as she putted in our house while we ate dinner in front of her.  Needless to say I was a little stressed by now with not having any privacy or knowing when she was going to show up and her yelling at me regarding the yard.  Friday afternoon the doorbell rings waking me up from a much needed nap.  I answer and there she is, I open the door she hands me a paper and proceeds to walk in getting ready to paint something.  I open the letter and it states that she raising rent by 150 dollars.  She then says a lady from the new rental company is going to be here any minute for a walk through and that while she waits she is going to paint.

Give a woman a break.  Hormones racing, anger racing cause everything was fine as of yesterday, and complete stress has popped my head off.  I tell her “no you can paint when we leave.”  And walk off.  Thank goodness she exits and putts around our yard.   I bawl and try to clean cause people are apparently coming over to look around and 15 minutes later the doorbell rings again and in walk the landlord and rental person.  Needless to say you need to give a hormonal woman time to process.


I end up giving my thirty days notice, cry in front of everyone.  Make Parker ask if we have to get rid of everything and make the landlord even more angry.  Yes nail holes are fill-able in walls and yes my children probably unscrewed your sprinkler system hence the other sprinkler you see out.

I said all this to vent and say we are moving yet again.  This will be place number 8 in 5 years for this 26 year old.  Champion.

I may have screwed us over or it could be a good thing and get us on our feet for our own place finally, where I can hang pictures without getting in trouble.  I just got to let the peace of God take over and soak in His presence.

I was listening to a sermon today called Greater.  Elisha burned his plow and followed Elijah to greater things.  I may have burned this house to say not necessarily wisely, but I got to trust that there is greater for us.  It’s adventure time once again.  Let’s do this!

Quote: “You’ve got to find it! It’s your only hope!” said the three year old about momma finding a piece of lego.  Made dadda proud to hear his Jedi said this.

“Big people time”

Baking, crafts, abc’s, actual time to think about cute clothes and hair for babies, dragons, pirates, laundry basket rides, dancing at the ball…all stuff I never really had time for in the previous lifetime. 

Now I have time for all of this and even to sit and wait to feel baby #3 move. 

Being a legit stay at home mom (aka no side jobs) is pretty cool. 

But it is a slightly lonely life.  Constant childhood communication gets tiring.  24 hour company of people less than 3 years of age will get on your nerves eventually. 

Be thankful for you “big” friends.  For dates with the love of your life.  For playgroups, dance classes, and family.  All which I am trying to re-discover in this new place. 

God is faithful to provide the relationships you need.  I’m not giving up, so don’t you either. Image


So I had planned on saving money, the hassle of packing up and dragging two kids out to a portrait studio to have pictures taken which I may or may not like in a place where I only have so much say by having my own photo shoot at home. 

Over the weekend I hung up tons of streamers in front of the patio door for a little girls birthday party and finally today I used it as my backdrop.  Pbear got her little dance costume on and I whipped her hair up to the best of my ability in the short time frame I had while the littlest one slept.  We then hurried downstairs and she began her dancing.  It was hard to get the dancing queen to stay in a small confined area, but after cropping in most pictures you can hardly tell. 

To say the least it was definitely the best part of my day, the most fun I’ve had in a very long time and they pictures turned out way better than expected.  All I was aiming for was one picture to hold onto Parker’s first dance recital memory and I got that plus some. 

In other news, as more and more people come to see the house, almost one a day, I am getting more and more and more excited to be on our new adventure!  For road trip and new home and new everything!  As well as the adventure of getting there…the chaos that will ensue very soon.  The garage sale and final packing and visiting Canada and family for the last time for a while.  This deepening excitement is also unexpected at this intensity.  If anyone knows me you can see me jumping up and down and squeezing my cheeks right now…cause that’s just how I roll. 

Off to purge the playroom…that I am not excited about.  Image

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