Coming clean

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Some of you already know this information but for the rest of you, I just want you know that I wasn’t trying to withhold wonderful information. It’s just that I’m awkward and unless it comes up in conversation I don’t know how to say it. Don’t be offended, please, if you feel I should have told you personally. Again, I am awkward.

The news won’t be shocking for some and for others it will catch you completely off guard…

Our little family is growing…

Please meet our newest member...Hutson Jon Hufford (and yes, that is Hutson with a T). He provides hours of entertainment and love!

Please meet our newest member…Hutson Jon Hufford (and yes, that is Hutson with a T) – the bata fish. 

Hutson provides hours of entertainment and love! We are hoping to keep him alive for a very long time. But if he dies it will either be from obesity or waaaaaay too much stinkin’ love.

So, we are now a pet family. His water is already filthy from moving his bowl around and from was too much food being fed to him. He seems to have self-control in the area of his diet these days. He spends most of his time swimming through the rainbow and around the fake yellow plant thing we bought for him. One day we might add another female bata (because from what I gather two male batas will kill each other and we don’t want any of that) but then they might have babies and we aren’t sure we are ready for that.

That’s our big news…oh if you haven’t already guessed by my ever expanding belly (who am I kidding – thighs, butt, arms, face…), I am also 16 weeks pregnant with our 6th Hufford baby and we are WAAAAAAAAY more excited about that than anything else!!!!! Sorry Hutson!

This was our baby about 7 weeks ago:-)

This was our baby about 7 weeks ago:-)

The time I put her in time out because she broke her arm

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If you follow me on instagram or saw on Facebook – Ella dislocated and broke her arm on Monday. That’s how our week started? How about you?

Everyone is kind of curious about what exactly happened and rightly so, we have five kids and they are always getting themselves injured somehow.

Well, apparently Eden, Cooper, and Ella were playing in Nora’s bedroom. Ella decided to get in the crib (I’m guessing they were either playing house or just goofing off). Eden told Ella to get out of the crib since it’s kind of a no-no in our house to play in the baby’s crib. She grabbed Ella by the arm and pulled her over the crib bar. Ella landed on her arm.

The three of them came down the stairs. Ella was whining but not really crying. Cooper tattled on Eden for pulling Ella out of the crib. I scolded them all for playing in there in the first place and sent them on their way. Ella stuck around just whining about how “Eden pulled me out of the crib.” I told her to go sit in time out and calm down (she is really overly dramatic, so this is a common scene in our house and she was just whining – not crying, not indicating any pain whatsoever). She came to the dinner table fairly calm and asked for her water bottle. I told her she could get down and get it to which she replied with a whimper, “But I can’t move my arm.”

That’s when I took a look at said arm. It was slightly swollen around her elbow and didn’t look quite right. I made Garrett confirm that we should actually take her to the ER since it was most likely a dislocation (that’s all we assumed at that point).

I took her in and she wasn’t even crying. Seriously people. No tears. She just had a pissed off look on her face.

The doctor came to see us right away because it was going to be a simple fix (he heard me tell the nurse the story as we were walking and knew it was probably a nursemaid’s elbow). He popped it right back in and then the SCREAMING started. I mean SCREAMING!!!!! She was yelling at him to stop and that she couldn’t move her arm still. If you know anything about a nursemaid’s elbow (very common, minor dislocation in little children) as soon as they pop it into place they act like nothings wrong. So we had to get X-rays.

It’s a good thing that I am not a x-ray tech. I briefly looked at the pictures of her elbow and saw absolutely nothing. Well, come to find out her humorous broke. Hmm…not what I was looking at, at all.

Soooo, yeah. It was a parenting failure that night.

Anyway, I have no real idea how bad of a break it is other than the orthopedic surgeon didn’t think they need to set it that night and the ER doctor was able to splint it himself, but we still have to see her this coming week to get a more permanent cast and to take a closer look at things.

Guys, things be cray in our house. Always. When you have five small children you get broken bones, stitches, and timeouts.

If looks could kill.

…if looks could kill…

Watching tv until our brains rotted. #ERlife

Watching tv until our brains rotted. #ERlife

We spent much of two whole days doing this. We pampered her and apologized repeatedly that we were sorry that we didn't realize sooner she was injured.

We spent much of two whole days doing this. We pampered her and apologized repeatedly that we were sorry that we didn’t realize sooner she was injured.

There was this seven year old

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There are two girls who ride Eden’s bus who judge me. One is seven and one is six. They gang up on me together.

Yesterday I looked like crap (I hadn’t showered in over 48 hours and was still wearing the pajamas from the night before). Garrison has been fighting some nasty virus that has left him whiny and crying and with a fever constantly over 102. It’s not been the worse illness in the world but it has been the whiniest.

Anyway, they saw Garrison and I standing at the window anxiously awaiting the school bus to come. He was in pajamas and was sucking a paci. They told Eden that Garrison wasn’t a baby and didn’t need to suck a paci. I had a calm conversation with Eden about how we are the parents and get to decide what goes and doesn’t go in our house. And pacifiers during the waking hours for a two year old who hasn’t been happy since Saturday morning works for us.

But for some strange reason these girls bother me. They always make comments when we are outside playing waiting for the bus to come. They run from my kids like they are the zombie apocalypse themselves. They think they are being funny. It’s dumb. But for some weird reason their judging comments bother me more than a grown adult. Maybe it’s because I don’t want my kids to grow up “speaking” their mind about stuff they have no knowledge about. Maybe it’s because I have been to the birthday party of one of the little girls and the mom’s there were dressed better, had nicer stuff, smelled better than me, and had their lives together more than mine. Who knows, honestly.

It was a good reminder to keep my mouth closed on things I know nothing about and to embrace where I am with five kids five and under. And to hold my tongue instead of yelling, “Well, well, well, YOU ARE ONLY SEVEN!” while sticking my tongue out.

REAL mom Wednesday

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You know you are a REAL mom when…

*You let the judgment of a 6 and 7 year old on your parenting bother you.

I generally don’t care what most people think about my parenting or number of children but for some reason I let the words of seven year old drive me batty and I totally wanted to come back with something strong to say to them but I bit my tongue. Because I’m better than them;)

Crappy foto

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I can’t call it Friday because it isn’t Friday. Although I did send these to myself in an email on Friday to post on Friday but I was busy. Busy doing this:

I was busy trying to get myself as young as possible on howold.net.

I was busy trying to get myself as young as possible on howold.net.

But don’t worry, the days were quite beautiful and filled with lovely pics of my kids.

This was my attempt at a selfie WITH the baby. FAIL.

This was my attempt at a selfie WITH the baby. FAIL.

My favorite lunch companion (I used a filter on this so you could actually make out that cute chubby face).

My favorite lunch companion (I used a filter on this so you could actually make out that cute chubby face).

There was some crying over unopened doors.

There was some crying over unopened doors.

And some naps in the sun.

And some naps in the sun.

And brothers just being the sweetest thing next to sugar.

And brothers just being the sweetest thing next to sugar.

BHAG

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(Pardon the mess of words that may or may not make sense.)

Are you familiar with BHAGs? I had to explain what a BHAG was to my husband this week. He had no idea what a Big Hairy Audacious Goal was. I feel like its all we talked about in my business classes in college. If you didn’t have a BHAG it kind of meant you were a failure and lacked vision. I couldn’t come up with one (most people wanted to own businesses or be CEOs or awesome stuff like that). Mine was to become a mom someday but that didn’t fit the college mindset. But trust me, that is a BHAG in and of itself. Outside of being a mom I didn’t really have a BHAG, but God has been stirring in my heart for a long time ideas that have finally taken shape into a real life goal that is bigger than me.

But first, there are three things you should know about me:

1. I love Jesus.
2. I am pro-life (like all life, not just unborn babies but for every person person on this earth because Jesus valued life and gave his for me).
3. I have a heart for sharing the gospel (but frankly, stink at it).

Not too long ago I saw a guy with a sign protesting our local Planned Parenthood. I know he was trying to do what was “right” and save some babies but honestly, I don’t think that’s what Jesus would be doing. And something about the whole situation reminded me a lot of the story of the adulterous woman about to be stoned.

Anyway, I talked with Garrett about this and said that there has to be a better way to save babies and share the gospel than that. My idea was to somehow get connected with women who felt like there was no way out. Women who felt like they had made a big mistake and that their lives would be “ruined” or made much more difficult by choosing life for their unborn.

We would bring these women into the homes of people in our community who would love on them and pray for them and let them know that life (theirs and their unborn baby) is important because Jesus gave up His for the world. When they came into our homes there would be no condemning or shaming them, only loving on them the way Christ would. Letting them see that they have worth not because of the things have or have not accomplished because in Christ they have worth.

It was a crazy idea with no real direction but something I felt like could somehow help save people and babies. This was the beginnings of a goal that was bigger than me.

Then I read this article this past week.

After I read that article about Mary’s Inn, I couldn’t stop talking about it, thinking about it, dreaming about it. I texted my husband a mile long thing about how this would be awesome for Cedar Rapids. How something similar to this could be the direction I needed in my random idea. So we talked it through. And it scared me. And I even remember telling Garrett that wouldn’t it be great if someone else could just do this for me. Isn’t life easier when someone else does the work for you???

Here is my dream…

It is to have a home where young pregnant women could come and live. They would be provided with counseling (because being young, pregnant, possibly homeless, and feeling like maybe your whole life is falling apart is a big deal and needs to be addressed and not just glossed over), classes on how to take care of themselves and their children mentally, physically, and emotionally. We would help them attain adequate jobs and find them a place to live after their child is born, and we would also help them to feel safe and secure. But the main aim would be to love on these ladies and share the gospel with them (verbally and through actions) daily. We would empower them that even though life has taken a bit of a harder turn, they can still achieve every single dream they can imagine.

The hope of this home would be to not only save children but to save their mothers as well. I believe their lives are both equally as important to save. I want them to be adopted into the fold of God and become heirs with me! I want them to know that there is no shame in Christ. That we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. And that there is a redemption story that God is ready to write!

Lastly, my heart is drawn to John 8:1-11. It’s the story of the woman about to be stoned because she was caught in the act of adultery. And I pray that I am not one of those people standing there holding a stone (or a picket sign or words of condemnation or hate) pretending to be doing the work of God. I want to be like Jesus and help that woman up and help her see that in Jesus she go and sin no more. Because we have all been that woman, haven’t we?

So I am writing this for me. To actually put it out there. I want to put my scared thoughts and “what ifs” aside and stand firm in Christ. Nothing is impossible with Jesus. Nothing!

So here am I, Lord. Send me.

Crappy photo Friday

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At her art show. The person "embracing" a picture of Eden is me. Yep. That old, haggard looking lady is me. I need some work. Real bad.

At her art show. The person “embracing” a picture of Eden is me. Yep. That old, haggard looking lady is me. I need some work. Real bad.

No one in this house seems to understand the concept of personal space. No one.

No one in this house seems to understand the concept of personal space. No one.

This little one was up a TON one night and she literally laid there watching Curious George because (even though she just woke up) she was exhausted.

This little one was up a TON one night and she literally laid there watching Curious George because (even though she just woke up) she was exhausted.

<3

<3

I was left alone to grill the other white meat. I burnt the heck out of them but managed not to blow myself up and deemed the meat edible.

I was left alone to grill the other white meat. I burnt the heck out of them but managed not to blow myself up and deemed the meat edible.

Just a baby in a sun hat. 'nuf said.

Just a baby in a sun hat. ‘nuf said.

Sometimes I let the kids push Nora around. It's a win for all parties involved.

Sometimes I let the kids push Nora around. It’s a win for all parties involved.