a well loved canoe

maybe it was the alluring sense of adventure in the air, teasing & taunting me with curiousity. a break from the safe & everyday groves of life. maybe it was the hope of turning around someone elses rough day. maybe it was just plain old generic crazy in the air.  whatever possessed me to try & retreieve that old beat up canoe from the furry of a windy bog, maybe i'll never know.

it all started out with a hope. the hope of a quiet overnight respite at the cottage in the woods. with bags all packed & babes snapped into their seats tight, we headed on our way in the middle of a wind storm. 

we arrived with hands white knuckled & backs arched with tension after being blown about on a busy highway. but hope undeterred & excitement building, we marched our troops into cold but cozy beds for an afternoon nap. except for the oldest, too excited to sleep, two steps behind, asking a million questions. the dogs galloped back & forth with the whipping wind as we unpacked the van & settled inside infront of a warm fire. 

and then all went dead. all the noise that you never knew you were listening to, quieted. all the fans & furnace & hum of the refrigerator. dead.  except for the distinct sound of mice scouring through the walls. and the smallest babe began to cry, still tucked in her bed. all frightened by the silence. 

and our excitement began to dwindle just a little as we began to extrapolate our options of a cold dinner in the dark with no heat. no heat for hours & hours possibly. 

steve came in from outside to announce that the boat & canoe's ropes had snapped & both a begun to quickly drift. he had caught the boat & re-tethered it but the canoe had been blown all the way to the other end of the bay & was being smashed into some flooded trees.

"it's too far & to dangerous for me to get the canoe..." he said

"but that's tom fallaise's canoe?!" i exclaimed. 

"i know but what do you want me to do about it?"

the canoe had belonged to a dear friend of steve's who had passed away many years ago. he had often talked about the fond memories with tom & this was the only thing he had to remember him by. i knew how much that canoe had meant to steve & i knew that if we didn't retrieve it tonight it would likely face a variety of demises. this canoe had gotten me into trouble before but it's crazy the things we do to remember. 

anyways, i knew steve had had a tough day, with several frustrating phone calls on our way to the cottage & i thought to myself... i'm going to get that canoe... even if it kills me. 

steve chuckled & smiled facetiously at my fervour. 

"there is no way you can get around that bog. you can try but i think you should just leave it. it'll be too hard...for you." he said. 

but he knew what he was doing. he knows what those kind of statements incite in me. absolute dedicated "i'll show you!" kinda attitude. the "i can do anything you can do better" mantra took over & i marched outside to look for the hip-waders {which turned out to have a hole in them... stupid mice}.

i left steve to calm the littlest one & shop vac water out of the basement & to clean up the cluster of mouse corpses that had collected while we were gone on the counter. 

and dav didn't miss a beat asking a million questions about where i was heading off to in my pink rubber boots & why i was going & how i was going to do it.

"i don't know dav. i'm just going to try" i said as i stuffed my pocket with a long dog leash, the only rope-ish kind of thing i could find. mcgyver would be proud.

 dav & scout followed until we got to the edge of the foreboding bog. the wind was whipping all kinds of debri through the woods & so i sent dav back to the cottage. but scout, my trusty adventure dog, stayed close by my side. it was comforting to know that at least someone was going to witness my awesomeness as a conquered this feat swiss family robinson style. 

i jumped across a few plots of raised reeds dispersed in a lumpy lake of water. until there was a bigger gap where i knew i was going to have to jump wide & hard to make it to the next plot. 

and so i jumped hard & wide & missed. big time.

my pink rubber boots split right up the side as they sunk up to past my knee....just then a roaring wind whipped through the old dead but crowded bog and limbs of every shape & size came crashing about. one large limb missed us by only a few feet...

"STTTTEEEEVVVVEE! I need HEEELLLPPP!" my voice evaporated into the wicked wind. 

 scout, my once trusty adventure dog, panicked & hightailed it outta there... to get help pressumably. hopefully. maybe?

i'm going to get knocked unconscious & then drown, i thought. but then steve's little smirk came back to my memory & i thought, you got this.

i prayed a little prayer and then managed to dislodge my freezing cold boot of bog water with a little grunting & grumbling & pulled myself up a little doon of mud. and there i was in a wild raging wind storm lost in an abis of bog pulling myself along by making little make shift bridges & tethering myself to trees & pulling myself along the bendy branches of saplings. 

i finally made it to the canoe trashing on the disappearing shoreline. half sunk with three paddles & a baby life jacket. 

through a makeshift lever system, i cranked the canoe over, briefly contemplated getting into it & tying the baby life jacket around my waist but i thought the water too violent & then tied everything safely but temporarily to a tree. i climbed on top of the canoe & straddled it between my legs. and there. on that well loved canoe. i cried a little.

i bellowed into the wind a few more times hoping to attract anyones attention.

after thinking a little, i realized that steve couldn't come & save me. he would need to stay with the four kids & there was no way for him not to jeopardize his own safety at the same time. i was on my own.

jax occassionally bounded past the end of the canoe & crashed through the bog like a panicked deer on steroids & then disappeared again before i could allure him to my side so i could ride him out of this mess. 

scenes from 'swiss family robinson' came to my remembrance {i knew watching it so many times with the boys would come in handy at some point}. i could picture the robinsons wading through the river & their different tricks they had. only they were in a tropical climate & i was clearly not.

and then i thought once again, i got this. 

i broke off a strong stick to help balance me along this time. still favouring a previous "jack-o-latern carving" wound, i pulled my way across saplings & tree trunks. half way on my way back steve & scout showed up across the way.

"STEVE! i'm really stuck!" i shouted against the wind.

"that must be really hard for you!" he shouted back sarcastically {referring to a video i had made him watch... about men needing to listen & not just fix things... cheaky boy}

i shouted a few choice words back not realizing dav was hiding behind a tree next to him.

they watched me balance & slosh the rest of the way to dry land. i climbed the hill where they were standing & dav said...

"mummy, we never say shut up. you should ask for daddy's forgiveness."

i bit my lip so hard & then i said, pretty convincingly i think, "i'm sorry daddy" & then trudged off to the dry, warm-ish cottage. 

the point is i saved that well loved canoe & i lived to tell the story. and it was horrendously fun & terrifying at the same time.

and i was proud of myself. proud that i could still adventure even with four kids. even in my life stage of needing to be practical & save & plan. even with two useless dogs. and even with a busy life.

may adventure find you where ever you are.

when He walks into the room

LOVING this album. my new favourite.



this is exactly what happens when He walks into the room. :)

the law of 'losing it'

this year has been rough year, for many reasons. some that were totally foreseeable & others, a complete surprise. i'm not sure which i prefer. some things are better when you just don't see them coming.

one of the more predictable challenges this year has presented us with, has been the everyday challenge that 4 little-lings all at bustling stages. our life at the moment is bursting at the seams with potential. the potential for joy & fulfilment as well as the potential for distress & complete chaos.

with such demand for discipline & direction, i must say with the other added obstacles this year has provided, i have not always responded as the most consistent or patient disciplinarian at times. it often happens with the "bulk effect". it's what rachel jankovic calls the combined crazy that only a room full of children together could achieve. like when the twins or little livi where added to the fam, it

wasn't 1+2 or 3+1, the effect was exponential, like 1 to the power of 2 because of all the added dynamics.  like child one can't sit next to child two becasue child one will cause a ruckus. and don't put socks on child three because they'll flush them down the toilet but must leave the bathroom door open with light on or child one will be too scared go on the potty & wet their pants. those kinda dynamics. complicated. i know. and it used to paralyze me until i met rachel jankovic. wise woman she is.

" the 'bulk effect' is what happens when there are a lot of children, and it will happen from time to time. individually, there is nothing to worry about. as a group it feels as though we are careening toward destruction. if you have a bunch of little kids (or even a few), you will need to not only be aware of this fact of life but build up your immunity to it. you will need to see it happening & get the grace for it in advance. you will need to develop some skills for coping with it that do not involve blaming your children." {rachel jankovic, the little years}

anyways, the bulk effect isn't what i had set out to talk about in this post. but i have long used the "bulk effect" without realizing, as my excuse to blow up, boil over... explode! afterall, just how much crying & diapers & spilt milk can one individual handle in any given moment?! it's only fair to allow myself to let some steam off, right? after all i am only human. wrong. i am a mother. which i am learning is one high calling. don't get me wrong. i think we've all been there, done that as far as exploding under the immense pressure of mothering. but when i start feeling entitled to those moments, i'm starting down a slippery slope.

 "the [bulk effect] is not a sin. it is merely the combined effect of a lot of people. and just becasue you can pin down one sin in the batch does not mean that child is responsible for the situation. your children are not a situation. they are individuals. disciplining an individual for a collective situation is a great way to alienate your children...." {rachel jankovic, the little years}

the thing is, once you've allowed yourself to explode at a situation that might merit a reaction of a 10 then you begin to allow or justify the same response at situations that might only merit an 8 or 6 until before you know it, you're reacting at a 10 for a situation that may only really justify a 2 or 3. it's a slippery slope & before you know it you lose it. you lose control of you.

and with multi-fauceted, multi-dimensional clashes of character & drama swirling around one tired mummy, you can bet it's a recipe for disaster. you can get lost in all the conflict & clashing & begin to believe there's no hope. you'll never be the calm, cool, collected mom you've always aspired to be.  it's cyclical. the kids swirling, the anger boiling, & then the inevitable blow up leading to mountains of shame, leaving you feeling powerless to change your hollering ways, leading to blaming the kids which leads to ... you get the picture.
the problem isn't just the sound of my screaming for all to hear but the feeling it creates inside. absolute helplessness. loss of control. anger & contempt... for myself.

"you take that shred of guilt and then harness onto it the stress of the whole situation. you make your child into a scapegoat. a way for you to release all of your tension and stress onto someone who you feel deserved it. he did, after all, disobey. your massive over reaction was just, because disobeying is wrong. so this neat little trick is happening in your head - the consequences for his sin go way up, and the consequences for yours go way down. it simply a classic shifting of the blame. the situation is crazy but you are the person responsible to get the grace to deal with it... [it's like saying] i will vent on you instead of dealing with myself." {rachel jankovic, the little years}

this year has been a challenge. a challenge to own my own stuff. my own emotions & reactions. my own atmosphere. because when it comes right down to it, i'm in charge of me not the rest of the universe. and for me, it is often just an issue of self-control & pushing myself to find the grace to deal with whatever i am facing. it's not that the kids are menacing or i'm a terrible monster. it's just exercising that self-control muscle a little more often than i'm used to.

the bible says "a soft answer turns away wrath". i used to think that meant responding to someone who is angry softly would soften them, which may be true but i think it also means by having the self control to answer softly while angry, diminishes your own wrath.

and so, i am constantly reminding myself to take courage, take heart & take control of me. 

be aggressive.

it was steve's birthday recently and as such we celebrated by going to see one of his favourite artists/friends, craig cardiff at the legendary black sheep inn.

we love the black sheep with lucy the miserable pug meandering in & around people's feet at her own whimsy (i think i may one day write a children's book about her called 'poo-tail the pug who no one would hug' but that's a story for another time).

and we love craig. and not just because he snuck us last-minute-folk into the sold out show. i love his writing candour & his witty sense of humour. his unique take on life & often moving perspectives all wrap up in melody & beat.

one of the trademarks of his shows is that he likes to get the audience's participation. he gives us our part of the chorus to sing along with him & cues us in at the right time. he usually gives us a few parts in a few songs along the way but the first song is usually lacking in audience enthusiasm, marked by the self-conscious whisperings of the small crowd following along. but craig is a seasoned artist who knows well how to ride a crowd out. and at this particular point on saturday, he stopped mid-chorus & said..."do you think we could be a little more aggressive with that... like i mean, long line to the bathroom aggressive... like hey, i-was-here-first-it's-my-turn kind of aggressive?" and the audience giggled & then belted out all choruses from that point on with a new charged kind of enthusiasm.

but it spoke to me. about worship. about praise. and my own dwindled enthusiasm at times. we've all heard of prayer warriors before but what about praise warriors? those who take ground in worship? what of those like david, in the bible, who ran to the battle line even in his own private worship with the Lord? who aggressively poured himself out before the Almighty King. i know i can make all kinds of excuses in my public worship to explain away my reserved-ness. but even if those excuses were acceptable for my lack of "i-was-here-first-its-my-turn" in public, there is not much of an excuse for it privately. i know there are times for quiet, somber worship. but for me, the aggressive kind of worship is something i've not really experienced. i know it's not for the faint of heart. or the self-conscious. only the crazy in love. the truly free. the consumed ones.

king solomon, david's son, had it right i think. he once gathered 20,000 bulls as his sacrifice on the alter. it's a sacrifice that is so embarrassing, it makes you kinda blush. and the Lord consumed them all, all 20,000. kinda leaves me breathless. imagine, watching those 20,000 bulls, fields & fields of livestock, being completely consumed by hot, raging, favoured fire from heaven, an expression of the intensity of His love towards us. king solomon's sacrifice was prepared externally, consumed externally. Jesus changed all that & made it internal. and then i imagine what would happen if i offered me like that? wholly, completely, aggressively to Him & what would that internal experience be like? to be consumed? to stare straight into the eyes that burn with such intense love for me & walk out with skin radiating presence. breathless.

over, the mountains, over the sea...
here you come running... my lover to me.
song of solomon

sewing savvy

these were great until liv figured out how fun
they were to flip in the car

we went for a little road trip for the last two weeks of summer this year to visit some very good friends of ours in both Grand Rapids & Geneva (Chicago). they had to have been very good friends, or we would have never even entertained the crazy idea. but all things said & done, it went very well. pinterest-ed an idea i had originally intended for dav's first year of kindergarten, a little napping bed for nap time but expanded it for the others to enjoy on our trip as well. however, there was one big obstacle to this project & that was my sewing savvy. my sewing projects usually end up as disasters. like when i made pj pants with one leg a full foot shorter than the other. or the dress that fell apart while i was wearing it. any sewing success i've  had is totally & completely attributed to my mother who swoops in at the last second to save the day. and she was not available for this project. i let the kids each picked out their own fabric (kai: rock&roll, eva: pink butterflies, livi: peachy owls & dav: superman) & then there was no backing out.
much better than expected. and other than the driving part, so much fun! it was a 46 hour round car trip {with only one of our kids conked out for a 10 minute nap of that entire 46 hours}. i knew i was going to have to be super-de-duper organized if there was any chance of not losing our sanity & i pinterest-ed tons of car trip ideas like road bingo, fishing box snacks, activity bins & lots of new viewing material. i had also
steve had recently taught himself to gut fish using just a youtube video (something he's always wanted to learn) & i thought, if he can do it so can i! and better yet, no innocent fish were hurt in the process. so i sewed my little heart out & voila! we roll them out now for movie nights, saturday mornings, extra beds for the kids when the fam visits, etc. and they roll up into a nice little roll with a handle too. each for transporting & storing. i got the pattern from this lovely link here.

hiding from gma & gpa

perfect for movie nights

they shared until all the nap mats were finished

 
thank you pinterest!

cheers to learning new things!

puppy love

and sadly, after finding out that steve is massively allergic to the hypo-allergic ferrets, we flipped them on kijiji & got a puppy!

i know. what were we thinking. and believe me, i have had my moments. like the one earlier when someone had emptied their poopy pull-up in the bathroom sink, the other pooped their pants & the puppy pooped & peed on the rug all nicely synchronized at the same time for my cleaning convenience.  that's not to mention the crate training (not so different from sleep training for babies so you'd think i'd be used to it). oh, how this pup cries. i think we could even classify it as a puppy scream. the breeder tried to warn us but those sweet puppy eyes got the best of us. he's just so flippin' cute! i guess that's where the phrase puppy love comes from.

meet scout (*or jettson or huckleberry finn... still deciding on a name, feel free to weigh in).
he's a border-jack (a border collie-parson jack russell terrier... you can see his cool parents at www.border-jack.com). he's three months but will likely stay pretty small, jack russell style. at least compared to jax. scout* & jax are besties, and that's not to mention the small pack of children that follow the poor gaffer around all day. needless to say he is well loved... even with the puppy screams & that insanely small bladder of his. :)

call us crazy, but we like the full life.

the mystery pets

rudyard kipling? "kip" for short?
or hemingway? or farley?

after much debate over what species our new little friends exactly are... they are not in fact pygmy albino rhinos, bears, ewoks or milking goats... but two little ferrets. :)

scarlett & hemingway/rudyard kipling/farley mowat (still can't decide one the boy's name...vote for your fav in the comments & we'll go with which ever gets the most!) have hopefully found a forever home in the wilkins' household.

we opted to take our chances on kijiji to save cost as we weren't positive if they'd fit in with our crazy kookie lifestyle. and take our chances we did... if it wasn't for contessa, i may not have come back alive from this kijiji buy. contessa kindly agreed to come along with me & we trucked along 45 minutes into the backwoods of quebec late at night to meet a very scary pair of handlers at one very scary backwoods trailer/garbage dump. the only thought running through my head as we got out of the car was 'we are going to die here'. thank goodness courageous contessa confidently asked all the questions & politely smiled as i was too distracted by the interesting man's rotted teeth. they really were such kind folk & offered us two free hamster for our trouble. i told him steve was allergic. :) we hightailed it out of sketch-city & booted it home as fast as our wheels could take us.

scarlett

and as for the ferrets, after scouring them & their cage from top to bottom, they are exactly what we had expected. they are like adding two more toddlers to our family but the thinking is that the two furry toddlers keep the other four toddlers completely entertained all day long with their whimsical antics & slapstick silliness, which has gotten a slight chuckle from even steve, the "-0%-excited-about-these-furry-things"guy.  even if the kids still seem to be quite confused as to what they are, (davith thinks they're hamsters or big "mices", kai things they're puppies, evie thinks they're kittens, liv thinks they're babies & jax thinks they're dinner), they have been well loved already. they have been dressed up & dragged by leashes, pushed in doll strollers, bathed & babied ALL day long. poor things are exhausted.
i think they've found a good home here. :)

he's so silly!

(scarlett is the white one... whom despite what i thought were pretty strange looking pink eyes, has made eva's best friend & the rascally looking bandit one is the boy who we can't seem to settle on a name... he's so silly!)

scarlett is, literally, eva's baby...
& she loves it!

scarlett has a slight soother addiction...
so she fits right in!