Catching Fall and House Reno Pics.

Well hello again.

 I do realize that it has been a while, and with so much to catch up on I'm not even sure where to begin. Today's temperatures dipped into the mid 30's this morning, so I suppose now would be a decent time to catch up on this Fall as it is swiftly running away.

Michigan is a playful lover like that.

When school starts for the Batey kids and their mama, certain things take an unfortunate back seat. Weekday home renovations are saved for Saturday afternoons and Sunday evenings. The extra kitchen counters are mostly covered in books, pencils, books, eraser shavings, books, nails, race bibs, nail polish and an occasional paint tray. When Cole and Lily were little I kept an impeccably clean and organized house. Now I tell myself  "it's just not my season."  I want sleep more than 100% order. Ok, even 75% order. Maybe lower. Nothing about this house has ever screamed order. I truly consider it a mental marathon; to enjoy what is beautiful among the constant chaos. My house is like beautiful pair of legs covered in Hanes sweatpants. I have included a bunch of before and afters at the bottom of this entry.



Could You Cry???

Whitney started school in September. She goes 4 mornings a week. I was nervous. She is a star. Everyone knows her name, she is like "Norm" from cheers, except female, tiny and delicious. Her schooling experience has far exceeded any of my hopes and desires. I, for the first time in 3 years, have unexpectedly really enjoyed homeschooling again. It amazed me how progressive it feels sitting down with the other children for a set, concentrated time each morning. I have confidence back in what I am doing. I specifically prayed for confidence concerning our educational paths this summer because I was about to throw in the homeschooling towel. I realize now that an education is not about any specific 'year' but about the journey. What one child may have lacked last year with the move and change is surely being caught up this year. I can exhale a bit. I have transitioned into using real books more at the library to teach history and science instead of a text or specific curriculum. It has brought some of the life back into learning. Our Friday Co-Op has been a welcomed addition too, allowing each of the kids 3 elective classes, such as Anatomy, Speech and Critical Thinking for Cole, Drama, Gym and Cup Cake Decorating for Lily, and The Human Body, Colonial Kids and Avian Adventures for Owen.

My favorite part of our academic days are the audio books that we have started listening to during our lunch hour. Overdrive is a super useful and free app that allows access to many audio books. We have finished The Penderwicks series, Hattie Big Sky and The Goose Girl all since the late summer. Books change you. I LOVE THEM!
*Disclaimer: I also love not having to sit down and fight sleep like the plague to read them!!

As far as my heart goes concerning all things Whitney, it has been a month of  mostly highs sprinkled with a few lows. Regarding school and all of her therapies, she has been making continual slow and steady progress, with no set backs. All of her testing keeps coming back negative. We were actually 'dismissed' from genetics for now. But her last genetics appointment left me lying on the couch a handful of Thursdays ago crying out to the LORD. I won't go into all of the details, but like most appointments with genetics, I had to work through the pain of submitting myself to this walk of fire for the last year and coming out holding the same question marks in my hands that I was holding when I began. I suppose I felt entitled to answers, and these doctors have been graciously 


Whitty's 1st day of school.

amazing, truly, but medicine and education cannot give me the promises that I need, that I want, for Whitney. But the LORD can. I am not sure how this will all end up, but she is our little miracle. My hope is in HIS story for her life, our story as her parents. My prayers are said everyday on our way to therapy...for HIS blessing over her development. My joy is in her amazing ability to capture the hearts of all of those around her. Whitney is the most popular Batey in Michigan. People I don't even know stop us at church or the grocery store to say "Hi" to her...people that literally know her! She is funny, stubborn, loving, sweet and strong. It is time to press ahead and keep my hope focused. I am laying down the question marks and picking up the camera. My season has changed.  It is time to stop worrying and enjoy her.

Personally I feel that I have turned a corner too. My marriage is fun and our family is enjoying the novelty of night fires, farmer's markets in downtown Detroit, local apple orchards and other Michigan discoveries. The older two babies are LOVING being Middle Schoolers together and transitioning into more autonomy and friend time. Diapers in one hand, deodorant, razors and hoarse voices in the other. Oy!

 I try to hog a few hours of my darling friend Chris's early morning every week for coffee and catch up/ sanity time. My other faithful girlfriend Annie hits the gym with me about 4 mornings a week at 5:30. She is helping me walk through my divorce with sugars and carbohydrates, and I love her. Bekkah is another girlfriend here, she's a creative and hilarious friend who I bounce off my decorating ideas with. I also love Mrs. Sandy, my wonderful next door neighbor. Then there is Em...my Emily. I first heard of Em through Gretchen and Amber when I still lived in Tallahassee. Gretch and Amber, both passionate women, were raving about their BF Emily. She lives just 40 minutes away. Emily was my first Michigan friend. We went cross country skiing together last winter. We connect on all levels, and she feels like an old friend. I wish she lived closer. Love her too!
There are things here that I look forward to each day, there are things here that are becoming home.

Sled Hill with grass

Michigan in the fall is brilliant. We had nearly 6 weeks of blue skies, 70 degree weather and trees that literally glowed with all of their bright reds and yellows. Cider mills, apple orchards, hay rides and the sun were healing to our souls. I really have nothing to say about the upcoming weather. So, let us just end there.
Until next time my loves,
Jenn

 



One of our neighbors GAVE this to us. Tim dragged it across our yard with the kids. He is such a beast. I contracted Posion Ivy that day. It took me a pack of steroids and 4 weeks to heal!

We spent a couple of Saturdays picking apples.

 



During Cole's cross country practice the kids and I go on walks throughout the park. One day Owen did 38 somersaults in a row!


Sisters


Melt me.



Cole and his pal at a Cross Country meet.


Lily started ballet again. Love.

Tim ran 14 miles in the Detroit Free Press marathon, he was signed up for 6 miles on a relay team.

 

Our town had a live art display of Norman Rockwell paintings. This picture was from that night. Look...yellow leaves!
 

 HOUSE PROJECTS:

 Dining room BEFORE. C.R.A.Z.Y.

 

After. One of my favorite parts of the house!



The stairs. Ohhhh the stairs. The carpet you see was beyond nasty! This was a very time consuming, but easy and inexpensive transformation that had a high impact on the house. I love them now!
 

Not the best picture, but you get the point. I will always remember listening to The Penderwicks with my kids as they ate lunch and I painted.



Before of entry way closet. One day I could no longer stand this space and I had Tim remove the 10 foot sliding mirror doors that didn't even properly work. Made this into an entry way 'mud room'. My first real 'carpentry', 7th grade shop class style.

during

 Almost after photo. Just have to paint the trim and add a floor now.

Then there was the day that I could no longer stand the carpet in the entry hall. So I ripped it out, in honor of my friend Wendi Long, and cleaned and painted the subfloor, and now I am in the process of laying planks down to paint those. Even if it's a bust in the end, it will be $100 better than what was there! So embarrassing to look at! Eewwww.

This project is a practical application to a saying I am trying to live via The Nester, "It doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful." The planks are farmhouse style uneven with some gaps and I did all the nailing free hand and did not allow myself to make a template to have all of the holes even and 'perfect'. Working on that. I have to give myself a pep talk, but in that mind frame the project has been way more fun. I also got experience cutting angles with my miter saw.

 

 

This is my ginormous paper wreath that I made out of an old dictionary. She is a beaut, I think, but the faces might creep Tim out a little.  

 










 



Happy Birthday Whitty Woo...

Prologue:
Last December I was packing, saying goodbyes, doing the crazy Christmas Mom thing, and exhausted in my heart with where Whitney was in her therapies. One morning as Lily and I were playing with Whitney, Lily shared a dream that she had had the previous night. She began to tell me that I was in her dream. I was walking up a big hill and Whitney was behind me. Lily said that in the dream I was sad and worried about how Whitney was doing. She said that Whitney was 3 years old, and all of the sudden Whitney looked up at me and said, "Okay Mom, I am ready to come to you now." Then Whitney walked up the hill to catch up to me. When Lily shared this, she had no idea of how I had been feeling in my heart. I was stunned, teary, and told her that the Lord gave her that dream to help me. I have tucked that dream away in my soul over the course of this year. It has become my dream.

                                  ~~~

I have been excitedly anticipating writing Whitney's 3rd Birthday Blog for the past month. This is more than just a post. This is an exhale. This is a carefree laugh. This is a sunrise. This is an internal celebration of things I thought had died. This is a story of how GOD has touched our family, how He has visited us with unexplainable mercies and faithfulness. This is the story of my Whitty Woo, my daughter, my love.

I spent most of June waiting for Whitty's genetic testing results. Most of the doctors expected to find something 'different' regarding her chromosomes. It had been almost 5 months of hard, crushingly hard doctor and specialists appointments. It was a lot of evaluations that painfully pointed out all of the things in Whitty that were wrong, behind, late. Somewhere along the way my permanent stance became a brace, a bracing of my heart, my soul, for the 'what ifs' that were mounting up concerning Whit, concerning our family. Tim laid hands on her every night and prayed prayers of beauty and faith that I will keep secret between us and the Lord. My prayers however went something like this; HELP, Lord, grace!

6 weeks ago I drove home  to Florida, from home, with my Mom and  kids for a summer visit. We made it from here to Macon, GA, in 13 hours. As Cole, Lily and Owen swam that warm southern Georgia evening in the hotel's pool, I held Whitty and played with her in our end. As I watched the older three splash and chase and swim, my heart ached for the place that I feared Whitty was. I remember throwing her up into the air and catching her, letting the water slightly cover her face. As she opened and closed her glasses-less eyes, a fear set in. Like the realization of what was always there coming into a dreaded focus. The next morning, as I drove the Florida Turnpike, I started crying to my Mom.
Like really crying.

"Mom...when I was playing with her without her glasses I thought to myself how different her eyes look. They just look different then the other kids. I think there is something wrong Mom. I do."

That was perhaps the first time I ever said it out loud like that. I said a few things that I never had said before. Things concerning jealousy, pain, and messed up places in my heart.

As tears were streaming down my face my Mom mentioned that she was thinking to herself how big  Whitney's eyes looked to her that very same day.

That afternoon we spent most of our time in my parents pool like always. I was asking my parents how they thought I could help Whitney swim more independently in her baby life jacket.

The next day was my Mom's birthday.
Tuesday, June 25.
Something happened to Whitney that day. She swam on her own (in the floatation device) all day long. All. Day. Long. That night she was power walking up and down my parents hallway. She dropped a toy, bent down to pick it up, stood back up and was off.
She hasn't stopped since.

Perhaps it was the swimming.
Perhaps it was a miracle.
Something happened to her that day.
For the past almost three years she would make a developmental gain, and stay there, if not slightly regress, for about 6 weeks until the next gain was made. But not since June 25th. She has continued to gain strength, speed, independence and words. Lots of words.

We started speech therapy twice weekly, as well as physical therapy twice weekly when we came back to Michigan. When it is warm enough (don't even get me started on the weather) we take her to the pool.

Her chromosome test, the one so much of my thoughts revolved around for months and months came back negative.
Her muscular/nerve conduction test came back negative.
Her major lab work is negative so far as well.

In July we had an appointment with a sought after head neurologist here in Detroit. He had wild white hair and a fiery sparkle in his eye. He told us how great Whitney was. How we should not worry. How we should always keep her in swimming. He spoke words of life, and possibilities over her. I will forever love this man. We drove home from Detroit smiling. That was a miracle.

She walks now, consistently. She baby runs. She talks in 2 word, sometimes 3 word phrases. She is funny, talkative, demanding and as sweet as pie all in one. We cuddle in the mornings in my bed and she softly tickles my arm while she whispers "tickle, tickle" into my ear.  She makes us all hold hands at the dinner table, and then she starts to sing "God our Father".  She makes us all laugh, and she often hugs new people whom she meets. She has a wild, adventurous side, remarkable for someone who has just recently gained command of her body.
I love her.

As a Mom I was brought to some dark and scary places. She lost oxygen...but she is here.
Our journey with Whitney, in reality with all of my kids, still remains unknown.

However I feel it immensely important to communicate that my heart has been forever seared...and I do mean seared, with a love and honor for all of the Moms whose genetic tests don't come back negative. For the Moms who have had to find the grace to adjust their personal dreams and expectations for their children, for their lives. To the Moms who feel isolated, weary and alone in their journeys;  please know that I know that you are there.
I know that you are there.
I am not forgetting you.
Especially to some of the very special friends that I have that are still walking through their stories even I as write this.
Thank you.

So, without further adieu, here is my Whitty, my daughter, my love.
Happy Birthday Whitty Woo.
Looking forward to more times of chasing you around Trader Joe's and watching you dance baby girl.
" Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." James 1:17

And thanks to you!
To all of you who have shared in my story this year. I could not have made it without you!

Cue the music (Celebrate Good Times...)



power walking at the park

Love her profile



I KNOW...sweats in August IS UNBELIEVABLE!

 


Playing with Mr. Shane



I mean COME ON!!!

Ballerina Swimmer

They are pretty in love, I gotta say.

 

Mom and Dad's pool

After blood work in Detroit.

Ride bike, ride bike



Sleeping Bear Dunes

Bloom and Grow Forever



 

Meet Edward Tulane

This past Tuesday night, at 10:30 pm exactly, Cole, Lily, Owen and I finished our audio read of
The Miraculous Adventure of Edward Tulane, by Kate Dicamillo. It has been quite sometime since I let a book get inside of me like that, yanking me where it must go. The story of our rabbit ringing clear and true the joys and pains of love. Edward starts out as a pompous ass of rabbit who cares for no one but himself. Through a serious of unfortunate abandonments and extended isolation the rabbit begins to experience love. His adventurous journey takes him to the place of learning to love others with all that he has, completely losing his selfish course of actions in the process. He breaks, but he loves. He breaks again, but hopes still.

“Edward knew what it was like to say over and over again the names of those you had left behind. He knew what it was like to miss someone. And so he listened. And in his listening, his heart opened wide and then wider still. (page 103)”

 I, too, know what it is like to rehearse the faces and places of all that was once comfortable, familiar and home. I remember the people and routines that were as second nature to me as breathing. I am lonely a good part of my days now. But that is okay. I am actively clearing the crap out of my life in order to bring me into the place of clarity and hunger once again with the Lord, with myself. I  have been broken for a good part of 2013, however, I know that there is a well of grace that has covered me as I have hurt. I am in a season of choosing thankfulness, even if I don't swell over with it the way that I ought too, the way that I want too. As I figure out who I am apart from the mirrors of reinforcements, I can only simply trust that God does in fact have a plan for me here too. He has said so.

One of the plus sides to gray hairs and forehead wrinkles (oh blast) is realizing that our lives, our stories, are made up of a string of seasons; we can relax a little in its ebbs and flow. To be honest, I have no idea what my new life here in Michigan holds for me to do, to build, to feel. But I can say, I do trust that one of these days I am going to happen upon it.

“Open your heart. Someone will come. Someone will come for you. But first you must open your heart. (Old Doll to Edward after he had given up on hope)

Oh, but someone has come.
He has gone before me.
He is worthy of my thankfulness, my trust and love. It is my desire that He should have it.
Perhaps the most worthy kind of love and trust is the kind you choose to give when you don't feel like it at all; where you consciously choose to stay in the fight for joy, for peace, for hope, for faith. Edward's transformation offered us this truth: sacrificial love is never given without serious cost, but it is infinite in its value and beauty in comparison with never loving at all.
Perhaps that is one of the greatest lessons for all of us.
Perhaps.

Cole Moves to College

There is this somewhat embarrassing story that circulates my family from time to time unveiling my now tapered neurosis in which I frantically start interrogating Mrs. Donahue, my purple and plum polyester dressed 3rd grade teacher, upon discovering what the SAT was. Yes, the college entrance exam SAT. Rumor has it that I cornered her and had her explain over and over again what this test was and reassure me that I would pass this exam 8 years later...when I was 16. Oh, if I only maintained that level of reverence for the SAT when I was 16. I digress.

You see that story reveals how I was born with an uncanny ability, gift or curse, to emotionally process life's seasons before they happen. It is probably rooted in the survivalist desire I have to maintain a sense of control and stability. Then one day I find myself surprised in all senses of the word, fresh on top of Sled Hill with 4 children, a husband and a dog in the sun-lit snow of January in Michigan, and, by force, realize that the surprises in life are what keep it full of whimsy. And what does one want to saturate their unwritten autobiography with if not whimsy?

Last Sunday I drove my first born to Troy to watch him blend into a sea of over-sugared, excited to be 6-days-set-free from their parents, emerging teens and sent him on a bus to Detroit. Yes, America's safest capital Detroit. Cole would help serve with one of the 4 teams from our Woodside Bible Church. I was proud of him for growing in personal and social confidence, and growing in a desire to serve the underprivileged in the name of the Lord, so I really didn't feel sentimental or sad at all.

I woke up in the middle of that first night. Was he OK? How was he sleeping? Was his belly alright on a non gluten free diet for the week? Was he lonely?
So I just did the only thing I could do. I prayed.

The following days I felt this nagging tug on my heart when I thought about Cole, when I felt his absence. And I felt his absence. The absence of the sense of security he brings. His quiet and brief  'I love you Moms' sprinkled throughout my day. I missed his vocabulary and unending wealth of interesting stories and facts. His humor wasn't there at the dinner table. As the days wore on, so did this discomforting feeling I had in the deeper chambers of my heart.

Is this what I am laying my life down for? Is this how it is going to all go down? To love, sacrifice, bond with and serve my little genetic multiplications, only to eat dinner with decreasing spots at the table because they have all but up-and-gone to live out their own stories? Frankly, yes. Yes, that is exactly how this all rolls out.

This week I felt the first splashes of loss that will inevitably come uninvited to greet me. I cannot sugar coat this. You have a baby, you blink, and they grow up and leave. Grace will be there in that day, as it always comes right on time; never early. However, this week has given me a fresh perspective. A Mom I will be forever, but a roommate with my children, but for a few short seasons. May I love them fully, and experience being their mother without regret, and full of whimsy.
I love you Cole Batey.
You are my great honor.

 

 

 

Dedicated to Hope Buhler as she watches Alexis get married tomorrow. Hope, you are such a light and example to me. May joy be yours in this transition.