and we have a new family photographer

Addison has shown a creative flair for taking pictures.
He was on the move last night trying to catch life in the
Aughtmon home at it's most natural...most raw.
Here is his take on a kick back Sunday night at Chez Aughtmon....

Clutter by the front door.

The television tuned into an episode of Young Indiana Jones.

Dad on the phone.

Mom in the kitchen.

Uncle Brett looking gangsta.

Cousin Drew on the prowl.

Jack with his eyes rolled back in his head.

Will hamming it up.

And a daring self portrait...Addie's nostrils unedited.
Ansel Adams step aside.
Meet Addison Aughtmon.

some things I've been thinking about

I got home Monday from a speaking trip out to Washington DC's
National Community Church.
Scott and I were on staff there 7 years ago with
Mark and Lora Batterson and Joel and Nina Schmidgall.
Each time we go back it feels like home.
A weekend spent in the midst of friends
makes it twice as fun.
I was welcomed with a basket of chocolate...tums and deodorant.
They know me well. Speaking tends to ramp up my nerves.
After speaking at a women's all comers night on Friday and
a mom's morning out with a full tea spread (delish!) that
put Martha Stewart on notice, we had a few afternoons of frolic.
There were pedicures, coffee from Ebenezer's Coffee House
and dinners out with Lora and Nina.

Needless to say, the Lord ministered unto me, yea verily.
And he also ministered to me on Sunday when Joel spoke at Ballston.
(NCC has 7 locations in different theaters.)
Joel spoke on anguish.
How Jesus chose to walk into anguish to do the will of the Father.
And how most of us choose to not walk into anguish.
We just want to be comfortable and happy.
That was kind of mean of him to say....and mostly true.
Mostly, I would much rather walk into Target than into anguish.
I don't often bend myself towards Christ's suffering.
I try to stick to the side of joy.
But it seems that often we don't get to partake of God's joy until
we join him in letting our hearts break for the world around us.
He ended the message with a recording of David Wilkerson calling us
to let God move us to anguish.
David Wilkerson said a few mean things to us, too, like that we
are pampered and show concern for things but rarely let the
Holy Spirit baptize us with a heart of brokenness.
Let me just say that more than a few of us were doing the ugly
cry by the end of the recording.
Because it was powerful and it was true and the Holy Spirit
convicted me on a thing or twelve.
Like about not praying for my children with a passion like I should.
For putting my own comforts before my desire to do God's will.
And for not seeing those around me who don't know Jesus the way
that God's sees them...as his lost kids who need some help finding him.
It gave me a lot to think about on the flight home.
It made me think that I need my mind to be renewed
so that I think more like Jesus.
That I need a shifting of how I look at things and how I am spending my time.
And a re-assessment of how I am anchoring myself in this world.
And then at the same time, I was also awash with thankfulness.
For God's good grace and mercy in spite of my daily inadequacies.
For friends who I share history and laughter with.
And mostly, for my boys, all four of them,
who were waiting for me at the end of my trip.
It's looking to be an interesting summer on all fronts....
I'll keep you posted.

i've been enjoying a funny 5 year old lately

Five year olds are like cheese...
they just get better and better with age...or stinkier...or both.
And lately, my third son is coming into his own.
It is a pleasure to watch him stretch his wings,
forming his take on things.
I am enjoying hearing his thoughts on life.
Take for instance yesterday.
We found out Jack is overdue for two shots.
Jack quickly asked,
"Do I have to get the stinging kind like Addie had?"
"Nope, no tetanus," I said.
Jack looked relieved.
Addie piped up, "Jack, my shots hurt really bad.
It felt like they were sticking needles into my arms..."
Jack and I said, "Addie, they WERE sticking needles in your arms."
He looked completely shocked and then squinched up his eyes at us and said,
"Say what?"
Jack and I couldn't stop laughing.
Addie joined in...and then proceeded to repeat,
"Say what?" at least 5 more times.
He has learned from his father that if it is funny once
then by all means, keep repeating it.
I could take a dose of sweet Addie funniness all day.
Lucky for me I get to.

sometimes days turn out better than you think they will

Today was one of those red letter days in my youngest son's life.
It was Addie's day for his kindergarten physical.
This means one thing...shots.
I have no fondness for shots...for me or anyone else.
But I enjoy living without disease so I go with them.
So this morning I told Addie, "We're getting your shots today, buddy."
And he said,"Do we get to go to Target for a prize?"
And I said, "Yep!"
Because I am a firm believer of prizes if you endure pain
and my children know this. They bank on it, in fact.
He said, "Can I have hot chocolate, too?"
And I said, "Maybe."
"And a scone?"
The boy knows how to work his mother.
"We'll see."
We made it through the doctor's appointment with flying colors.
He is healthy and can see and hear...clearly, he is brilliant.
Then we went to the room...the one with the NEEDLES.
4 of them to be exact.
I held Addie on my lap. The nurse did her swift and deadly duty.
Addie was stoic until the last shot after the nurse polka dotted
his small arms with circlular bandaids.
Then his small face crumpled.
He stood up and leaned the full length of
himself into my arms and wept.
I got a bit teary myself.
"Mom," he said, "That was SO pokey!"
And I agreed, "Yes, it was."
I hugged him close...and thought bad thoughts about the nurse
to make myself feel better.
We made it out to the car, holding hands, Addie still teary.
And then we decided we had better go to Pizza My Heart
since it is Addie's favorite and clearly, warm cheese makes everything better.
Even shot pricked arms.
Somewhere amidst the pepperoni and sips of soda,
his sunny disposition was restored.
Carbonated beverages can do that for 5 year old boys.
We chatted about preschool and about why he doesn't like
ranch on his carrots. The important things in life.
"Mom," he said, "This is the best day ever."
I agreed. Shots and all.
And we hadn't even gone to Target yet.

i like being a mom

I've spoken many times of copious amounts of cleaning
that accompany motherhood,the dailiness of life,
the errant flu bugs upend weekend plans
and the smells that emanate from my sons shoes.
Being a mom is not for the faint of heart.
We are a strong minded, no nonsense, get 'er done type of crew.
But every once in a while I am caught off guard by
the loveliness of being a mom.
My sons disarm me with their sweetness,
their soft hearts, their creativity, their love.
Quick side hugs.
A soft, "I love you, Mom" whispered into my hair.
Pictures penned with me in mind.
A snuggle on the couch while we read or watch tv.
I soak these things up...pondering them in my heart, as it where.
The other night I heard some whispering in the hallway
and Jack and Addison ventured into the backyard while
Will did his homework at the table.
I was icing my back on the couch, one of my favorite activities
these days.
And lo and behold, in came my boys, with fistfuls of flowers
from our newly blooming backyard.
"Happy Mother's Day, Mom," they said.
"We wanted it to be a surprise."
Will did not want to be left out.
He added his own bouquet.
Jack painstakingly arranged the flowers in mugs and added
peppermint, stalks of lavender and Japanese maple cuttings for effect.
I was overwhelmed. Because of their unprompted thoughtfulness.
I may have gotten a bit teary. They are used to it.
They know mom cries a lot. Especially about good things.
I'm weird like that.
I can't help thinking despite the bad smells and endless laundry....
there is nothing I would rather be than a mom.

it could be a hot summer

My son, Addison, has a thing for textures.
He loves touching anything that is soft or fluffy or
squishy.
He has offended several children at his preschool by
touching their hair or rubbing their ear lobes without permission.
Clearly, he hasn't learned about personal boundaries yet.
Yesterday it was my turn to be offended.
The sun was out. The air was warm.
It was time to pull the shorts out of winter hibernation.
I was laying on my bed reading a book when Addison came
and accosted my bare calves.
"Oh,Mom!" he said, squeezing my skin, "I love your chuvvy, chuvvy legs!)
(chuvvy chuvvy = chubby chubby)
"They are so squishy and bouncy. Like a trampoline!"
I promptly sent him out of the room calling after him,
"Don't touch mommy's legs!" in a high shrieking tone.
I was shocked and wounded and appalled. And shocked.
Squishy and bouncy?
Just thinking about it makes me tense up my calf muscles.
Someone needs to teach that kid that if you don't have something
nice to say than don't say anything at all.
Until that happens, I will be wearing pants.

song for the day

I have been wearing this song out all morning.
I love the words. I love the picture of what God desires of us.
Thanks, Nichole Nordeman!