Claire and Leah swinging on the deck.

I hope you have a great weekend chilling and grilling!

I’ll be back next week with a great salsa recipe and pictures from our first couple weeks homeschooling.

Love,

Jess

The dog days of summer are almost over. In Minnesota, I am heading into the weird transitional mini-season that holds the State Fair and Halloween decor, beach swimming and school supplies. So before, the boat, the marshmallows, and the sunscreen are all a distant memory, I want to show you what is in the “lost and found” bin at my house.

Ry lost some teeth.

Ryan sporting a summer smile at the beach.

Molly found some patience, fractional mind you, but patience none the less.

Molly tending to her new cousin Max.

Claire found courage.

CJ "hanging" out on the neighbor's play set.

Leah lost her willingness to give up her “thumb” after nap-time.

Leah with her "taggie" on the diaper table in her nursery.

Peter found peace during his time as a canoe leader for a wilderness week Up North. He didn’t loose any of his paddlers.

Pete carrying water at his pre-trip camp site.

I lost my cool and then found it, then completely lost it again, then figured I didn’t need ‘my cool’ because frazzled is the new look for Fall.

Molly, Me, Leah, Ryan in front of the fire pit.

What’s in your lost and found box?

Love,

Jess

Finding

Opportunities for

Concentration to

Understand

Something

-Jess @ Just aBlink

I don’t often have time to think. Sounds dumb, but it’s true. Spending time in a good ‘think’ to remember where I’ve been and where I am going is a wonderful blessing.

Much of my attention while raising little ones is focused on the who, when and what aspects of my life.

Who is crying? Who is your new friend? Who is going to fuss up!?

When will you be home from work? When will we be able to buy a new couch? When is it bedtime?

What is for dinner? What is in your hair? What could possibly explain the profound silence in the playroom?

Attention for the deeper understanding of why and how comes only when I find time to concentrate and understand something about myself or God or the World.

Why do I care if my kids express sibling-friendships? Why do I value marriage? Why do I so easily see the faults of my kids when really they are reflections of my own inadequacies?

How can I instill a hope in things unseen to my little ones? How can I express more gratitude? How can I possibly carry on when my shoulders are too heavy to lift?

So even when time is short, my brain is on mac-n-cheese-xbox-dirty sock-sippy cup overload, and my calendar shows it is time to do it all over again tomorrow…

I focus.

Love,

Jess

The day has come, drum roll please, Molly developed an attention span!

{Applause inserted here.}

She can play without a companion for about 20-30 minutes. Mid-afternoon has become a time for dolls, littlest pet shop, and other rainbow-colored shenanigans.

I am often right next to her as she plays. For real, I could play next to her for hours but somehow I grew up. Dinner and responsibilities cut in and I can only give her short bursts of playtime. Which is good, I guess, but I’d rather play than just about anything. Except snacking and napping. Am I a kid or what?

Molly playing with my dolls from childhood

Molly aka Rainbow Brite

Molly feeding her doll

Love,

Jess

The word HOME is defined, as the place in which one’s domestic affections are centered (online dictionary). The blaring difference between a house and home, it seems, must be affection.

I can clean, cook and entertain all-the-live-long day but if I do them without love, I do them in vain. I have a long list of domestic affairs. Yet, do I have a centered view of my domestic affections?

Can I even be relaxed enough at home until my  to-do list is done? Yes, I know I can. Can I be centered in my affections, not losing focus? Yes, I know I can.

I can because in the process of building my nest I see God’s hand weaving yarn and twigs with me.

I find home is in the valleys, like failed dinners, missed connections, and yet-to-finish projects. I find home is in the hillsides, like laughing until milk comes out of your nose, creating something with your talents, and helping each other through the valleys.

Here are some photos of things that make my nest feel like home:

Dating - Goofing off on the patio of Noodles & Co. - 9th Anniversary

Entertaining - Ryan's 5 1/2 year old birthday party.

Traditions - s'mores every summer, all summer

Schedules - making time for what matters most (on the fridge)

Root Building - sharing lives and space (Ryan and Leah)

Tending to my domestic affections, gives me a chance to experience a deep sense of gratitude.

What makes your nest feel like home?

Love,

Jess

“Nesting” brings to mind a period of preparation before a time of need or expectancy.

Molly at the Zoo

Envision a typical nester.

• A newlywed filling a new wedding-gift vase with flowers from her first garden.
• A pregnant lady folding and refolding tiny, freshly washed baby tee-shirts and stacks of cloth diapers.
• A business woman saving her precious funds for the future.
• Veteran housewives refining their home decor to create a sanctuary for their family.

What result does nesting show? Does a house magically turn into a home? Does a life automatically become a legacy? Something lies beyond the housewares and diapers. Curtains and bean counting can only go so far.

So here I am setting up my nest, searching for what will make my house a home and my life a legacy.

Love,

Jess

A stone’s throw away from my new house lie acres of  farms and one small town. The town has art, rusty cars and a tiny library. The farms have cows and  cow smells, oh, and lots of rows of corn. The kids think we moved to the country when really it’s just farms being swallowed by suburbia.

Did I mention going to a “Corn Drive-Thru” last week? Not even kidding. We drove up to buy a 12 ears of corn thru the window of the mini-van. So, funny and yummy.

Pretty landscape on my drive

I had a chance to partake in the small town vibe recently. No kids, husband, and agenda. Just me, warm breeze, and my camera.

I drove a stretch of 2-lane roads which landed me in downtown on main street. Rough-patch boards lined several historical buildings hinting at their thriving past. Welcoming retail shops and services seemed to be growing strong here and there, in the summer’s heat. Store stoops boomed with conversations between passers-by.  Even I chatted-it-up with the owners of the new “vintage” store that opened  in town this summer. She knew and loved the style and work of the Shabby Mamas! High Five!

i love old doorknobs, don't you?

During sunset I strolled looking in window-fronts.  I happened upon a trendy/humble/cool/owner-operated/semi-local made ice cream shop, so I checked it out.[read: saw ice cream sign and ran across the main street to get in line so fast even the cows did a double take.]

I ordered the most delicious flavor. Mint julip flavoring, grasshopper cookies, and chocolate here and there with more minty ice-cream. I was so excited my mouth literally watered a little bit as I waited for the cone to be crafted.

My hand reached out to grab the completed ice cream cone. Then the sign above the cash drawer met my eyes. It said no credit cards. What?  Clearly, I miss read. Nope, there I stood with my hand out, not taking the cone mind you,  just standing there without checks or cash.

My previously-watering mouth hanging o-p-e-n and a heartbeat of now-what-have-I-done pounding in my mind.

And just like that, he waved his hand the cone was mine. “Aw, just come back around when you can,” he beamed as I fumbled to say thank you. He wasn’t a flirt, he wasn’t a lazy cheat. He was really just a trendy/humble/cool owner of a semi-local made ice cream shop with a good sense of customer service. Now that’s a business worth coming back to…with my husband and 4 kids. Yeah, that guy just made a lot of money down the line.

Cheers for small towns, vintage markets, ice cream cones, and people who rock!

-Jess

I hear a common reaction about my stay-at-home gig.

“How can you do it? You’re so brave!”

Brave, really? I think I’ll keep bravery to describe soldiers or missionaries. Although, tackling diaper changes needs bravery now and then.

I’d classify my characteristic as “willing”.

As far as, “How can I do it?”  My gut response is,

“With all the irresistible fleeting moments to treasure, how can I not?”

Snowflake catching

Card games

Building blocks

Cars & PJs

Books outside in the shade

Constant Shadow whether you like it or not

I am the last one to say that “staying home” full time is perfect.

My kids can be loud and messy. I can be crabby and less-than-brave.

But, all those irresistible moments with my little ones, stick to me like glue.

Love,

Jess

Claire and Leah on our front steps of the new house.

Claire (purple) and Leah (pink) exploring the kiddie pool at a friends' house.

Claire (purple) and Leah (pink) playing in the sprinkler.

Having fun,

Jess

My kitchen window sill in the new house.

When the house is still,

Morning light greets my kitchen window sill.

It passes by the cupboard door,

Pressing a glare onto the floor.

Coffee brews with a whooshing-tink,

While I posture my thoughts at the sink.

When the house is alive,

I work hard  just to survive.

Endless clean socks to fold,

Four children ‘never-guilty’ to scold.

I protect, push and pray in each exchange,

Hoping for sad hearts to rearrange.

When the sun shifts with predictable ease,

Afternoon rays pour between the trees.

Shaded hours pass by in gusty whirls,

I dream and dance with my 1 boy and 3 girls.

As the sunset flees across the rooftop,

I kiss my husband – he makes my heart drop.

-jess