Rob said a little prayer. His request was simple enough. He wanted a new baby.
Well, is this proof enough for you that God hears prayers? :)
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| Baby Wicks #4 EDD: October 26, 2012 |
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Another?!?! Take 2
November 9, 2011. I posted a blog. If you don't recall, let me jog your memory...
Rob said a little prayer. His request was simple enough. He wanted a new baby.
Well, is this proof enough for you that God hears prayers? :)
I had told him to think pink because Mom really likes pink, and I do. Frankly, I am great either way. A girl would be fun, but we do know a thing or two about boys around the Wx house!
Rob said a little prayer. His request was simple enough. He wanted a new baby.
Well, is this proof enough for you that God hears prayers? :)
Welcome Wookiee!
On December 24th 2011, our family welcomed our newest member, Wookiee Wicks.
And just as promptly, Wookiee became one of the family.
Wookiee was found wandering around outside our home on Christmas Eve upon our return from church. Ray noticed, "He has a collar, but no license! I think that means we can keep him!"
Upon 1st greeting, the boys were all in love. He is really quite a loveable lug. But I thought we were getting a dog. (He has since turned into a horse as he seems to double in size nightly on a regular basis!!) The cute little furball was 1st thought to be possible be another Ewok, but I quickly pointed out to the boys he was a baby and would surely grow, it was then decided it was then clear that he was a wookiee and hence he was promptly named.
Wrestle!
First of all, I apologize for my lack of posts. I guess we've been a bit distracted with life lately. As I sometimes say, "Life gets in the way of life too often."
In addition to our regular jobs, school, etc. I took on a 2nd job directing our school's annual benefit auction.
Rob also took on the sport of wrestling. He had a GREAT season. When he started, we were just going to do practices. When the coaches gave him a singlet to bring home, we decided what they heck, let's try a tournament. He took 2nd. So we tried another, we took 1st getting 2 pins, with the longest one taking 10 seconds. This lead us to regions, where Rob took 1st. Off to sections where Rob took 4th and qualified for State. Additionally, so did the Austin Youth Wrestling team for the 1st time in history! So we spent March 31 and April 1 at the Rochester Civic Center at Rob's 1st state meet. No placing for Rob, but he wrestled hard and never gave up. In one of the team competitions, he did get a pin, which was very exciting.
Not sure what the future holds for our little grappler, but we are very proud of his grit, determination, and effort. I'm sure he has many successes in a variety of forms laying ahead of him if he tackles life in the same way!
We are proud to have been part of Austin Youth Wrestling team, who ended up placing 2nd in their pool. And even more so, we are proud of you Rob!
In addition to our regular jobs, school, etc. I took on a 2nd job directing our school's annual benefit auction.
Rob also took on the sport of wrestling. He had a GREAT season. When he started, we were just going to do practices. When the coaches gave him a singlet to bring home, we decided what they heck, let's try a tournament. He took 2nd. So we tried another, we took 1st getting 2 pins, with the longest one taking 10 seconds. This lead us to regions, where Rob took 1st. Off to sections where Rob took 4th and qualified for State. Additionally, so did the Austin Youth Wrestling team for the 1st time in history! So we spent March 31 and April 1 at the Rochester Civic Center at Rob's 1st state meet. No placing for Rob, but he wrestled hard and never gave up. In one of the team competitions, he did get a pin, which was very exciting.
Not sure what the future holds for our little grappler, but we are very proud of his grit, determination, and effort. I'm sure he has many successes in a variety of forms laying ahead of him if he tackles life in the same way!
We are proud to have been part of Austin Youth Wrestling team, who ended up placing 2nd in their pool. And even more so, we are proud of you Rob!
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Where IS that Camera?!?!
I have it said more than once in my life and say it frequently now as the mother of 3 unique boys, "Where IS that Camera?!?!" Sometimes I am quite certain that our life would make a hit reality show or maybe an award winning primetime family comedy. Yesterday was a perfect scenario...
Characters: Michael-the father figure of the family. Type A(a) personality. All T's must be crossed and all i's must be dotted at all times, no exceptions. Boots never go with shorts and black never goes with brown and that includes when toddlers put their own shoes on.
Robert-Middle child, age 5. Traits: stubborn, spontaneous, stubborn, imaginative, stubborn, unique, stubborn, strong willed, and STUBBORN.
Billie Jo-the mother, but in this case, useless to all as she lies ill in bed.
Setting: While outside it is a cold and frosty Minnesota Saturday morning, the Wicks family is inside their rural single family residence.
Plot: Michael versus Rob.
Rob has been on a big shorts and tank top kick lately. Don't ask me why. I have no idea. He certainly doesn't get it from me. I am typing this in my hooded sweatshirt, fleece pants, wool socks and slippers. Even still, yesterday morning he declared, "Summertime! It's summertime outside!" and came out of his bedroom donning blue and white pin stripe shorts and a tank top.
When I took to my bedroom ill yesterday morning, Michael decided to round up the crew and head to Target. There was a prescription waiting and we were nearly out of toilet paper. (Sam is potty training and goes through A LOT lately, which reminds me of another blog entry to author...) Michael told Rob he needed to wear pants so they could go to the store. Rob refused. Michael insisted.
Rob took off at top speed. I heard my bedroom door quickly open and then latch. Click! The locked was pressed in. Quick! Under the covers Rob flew. Whoosh! Back out. Approaching footsteps in the hallways. Flip. Under the bed. Scurry, scurry, he was gone into my closet.
(Now this sort of thing may have disturbed some for their rest, but honestly, I was barely phased. I peered out one eye for about 2.2 seconds.)
Click! Michael unlocked the door. "He's in the closet." I told Michael. PHEM! "He was in the closet."
Rob escaped through our laundry pass through into the laundry room next door. He then locked that door. And escaped again into the boys' bathroom through the next laundry pass through. That is where he was apprehended and sentenced to a day in denim.
Conclusion: After some screaming and the promise of a slushie and popcorn, the W-X boys all have a successful outing to Target while Mom stays behind for a more successful attempt at resting.
Characters: Michael-the father figure of the family. Type A(a) personality. All T's must be crossed and all i's must be dotted at all times, no exceptions. Boots never go with shorts and black never goes with brown and that includes when toddlers put their own shoes on.
Robert-Middle child, age 5. Traits: stubborn, spontaneous, stubborn, imaginative, stubborn, unique, stubborn, strong willed, and STUBBORN.
Billie Jo-the mother, but in this case, useless to all as she lies ill in bed.
Setting: While outside it is a cold and frosty Minnesota Saturday morning, the Wicks family is inside their rural single family residence.
Plot: Michael versus Rob.
Rob has been on a big shorts and tank top kick lately. Don't ask me why. I have no idea. He certainly doesn't get it from me. I am typing this in my hooded sweatshirt, fleece pants, wool socks and slippers. Even still, yesterday morning he declared, "Summertime! It's summertime outside!" and came out of his bedroom donning blue and white pin stripe shorts and a tank top.
When I took to my bedroom ill yesterday morning, Michael decided to round up the crew and head to Target. There was a prescription waiting and we were nearly out of toilet paper. (Sam is potty training and goes through A LOT lately, which reminds me of another blog entry to author...) Michael told Rob he needed to wear pants so they could go to the store. Rob refused. Michael insisted.
Rob took off at top speed. I heard my bedroom door quickly open and then latch. Click! The locked was pressed in. Quick! Under the covers Rob flew. Whoosh! Back out. Approaching footsteps in the hallways. Flip. Under the bed. Scurry, scurry, he was gone into my closet.
(Now this sort of thing may have disturbed some for their rest, but honestly, I was barely phased. I peered out one eye for about 2.2 seconds.)
Click! Michael unlocked the door. "He's in the closet." I told Michael. PHEM! "He was in the closet."
Rob escaped through our laundry pass through into the laundry room next door. He then locked that door. And escaped again into the boys' bathroom through the next laundry pass through. That is where he was apprehended and sentenced to a day in denim.
Conclusion: After some screaming and the promise of a slushie and popcorn, the W-X boys all have a successful outing to Target while Mom stays behind for a more successful attempt at resting.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Dinner with the W-X
I haven't blogged for awhile. It isn't that things blog worthy don't happen, it's more about finding, or taking the time to actually write about them. At dinner tonight I rolled my eyes and said, "I think I have to excuse myself now and go blog." Let me back up to the thirty minutes prior...
As I as preparing to set dinner on the table, I looked at Michael and said, "Which of the boys will refuse to eat this?" I had made what my mom called Swiss Steak, although as an adult I'm not sure that is an accurate reflection of what it really is. I think my friend Mary's teenage son would have a much more accurate description of the meal with his classic "Another low budget meal at our house" line. Dinner consisted of round steaks (which I have also frequently questioned the accuracy of that descriptor) baked in cream of mushroom and cream of celery soups. Straight from the oven it is not the most appealing looking dish and for boyz, that can make or break dinner.
Upon first glance, Rob wrinkles up his nose and says, "EW! I'm not eating that!"
"It's just meat with gravy Rob."
"I don't like gravy. You know I HATE meat with gravy."
"Then you can eat some baked potato and green beans."
"NO! Why do always make meat with gravy when you know I hate. You always make things you know I don't like."
"Rob, that's not true. I almost never make gravy. Just eat some green beans and potato."
"No, I'm eating a lemontime." (Or clementine, whatever.)
"You can have that after you at least try some of your dinner."
"NOOOOO!" This sort of thing continued for another minute or so till Michael picked Rob up and hauled him to his bedroom. Rob continued carrying on for a bit until we nearly done eating. He resurfaced at the table with his big eyes looking rather sorrowful.
"I'm hungry. But I don't like eating cold food."
"You're lucky we have a microwave. Would you like me to warm your food up?" Michael asked.
Rob nodded and Michael zapped. As Michael set Rob's recently reheated entree in front of him, Rob stuns with me with his next question, "Can I have gravy on my potatoes?"
"What?!"
"Can I have some gravy on my potatoes? But not on my meat. I hate gravy on my meat."
Sigh. "Sure you can bud." Rob scarfs down his first serving of potatoes and gravy and asks for another. The even bigger surprise, when I caught him slyly dipping his meat into the gravy when he thought no one was looking.
That was when I pushed my chair away and excuse myself to go blog. But instead I started washing dishes. As the last of the table was cleared and I was scrapping the leftovers into tupperware, Rob's head pops up along side the counter and says, "Mom, don't forget to save the gravy!!!" I had to laugh as I scooped the last scoop of it into the container and secured the lid. And then I logged on to my blog.
As I as preparing to set dinner on the table, I looked at Michael and said, "Which of the boys will refuse to eat this?" I had made what my mom called Swiss Steak, although as an adult I'm not sure that is an accurate reflection of what it really is. I think my friend Mary's teenage son would have a much more accurate description of the meal with his classic "Another low budget meal at our house" line. Dinner consisted of round steaks (which I have also frequently questioned the accuracy of that descriptor) baked in cream of mushroom and cream of celery soups. Straight from the oven it is not the most appealing looking dish and for boyz, that can make or break dinner.
Upon first glance, Rob wrinkles up his nose and says, "EW! I'm not eating that!"
"It's just meat with gravy Rob."
"I don't like gravy. You know I HATE meat with gravy."
"Then you can eat some baked potato and green beans."
"NO! Why do always make meat with gravy when you know I hate. You always make things you know I don't like."
"Rob, that's not true. I almost never make gravy. Just eat some green beans and potato."
"No, I'm eating a lemontime." (Or clementine, whatever.)
"You can have that after you at least try some of your dinner."
"NOOOOO!" This sort of thing continued for another minute or so till Michael picked Rob up and hauled him to his bedroom. Rob continued carrying on for a bit until we nearly done eating. He resurfaced at the table with his big eyes looking rather sorrowful.
"I'm hungry. But I don't like eating cold food."
"You're lucky we have a microwave. Would you like me to warm your food up?" Michael asked.
Rob nodded and Michael zapped. As Michael set Rob's recently reheated entree in front of him, Rob stuns with me with his next question, "Can I have gravy on my potatoes?"
"What?!"
"Can I have some gravy on my potatoes? But not on my meat. I hate gravy on my meat."
Sigh. "Sure you can bud." Rob scarfs down his first serving of potatoes and gravy and asks for another. The even bigger surprise, when I caught him slyly dipping his meat into the gravy when he thought no one was looking.
That was when I pushed my chair away and excuse myself to go blog. But instead I started washing dishes. As the last of the table was cleared and I was scrapping the leftovers into tupperware, Rob's head pops up along side the counter and says, "Mom, don't forget to save the gravy!!!" I had to laugh as I scooped the last scoop of it into the container and secured the lid. And then I logged on to my blog.
Friday, December 23, 2011
A Hole in Our Hearts the Shape of a Paw Print
Before Michael and I got married, we had agreed we would wait a few years before we started a family. It was only a month of two when I announced that I wanted a dog or a baby. (I hated being alone at night if Michael was working late or out at the farm.) Michael choose dog. Our first dog was a black mutt that we rescued from the Humane Society. He was shy and did okay with me, but that was about it. I don't know if he had been beaten by a man, but he never warmed up to Michael. After a year, he started growling and even nipping at not only Michael and other men, but even children. This wasn't something we felt we could deal with so we said goodbye to Opie.
A month of two passed and I was ready to give it another shot. This time, Michael wanted to try the puppy route. I had a golden retriever named King growing up whom I had fond memories of so when we saw an ad for some golden retriever pups south of town, we checked them out. Now I know puppies are all sweet and adorable and I am probably biased, but Jaxson had to of been one of the sweetest and cutest puppies ever. He was the runt of his litter, had such a sheen to his coat and was a snuggler. I love snuggling. We knew we had found our new pup.
Jaxson never outgrew his sweet, good tempered personality. If anything, he grew sweeter with each passing year. He welcomed all three of our children to our family and protected and loved them with such loyalty we couldn't have designed a better dog. Jaxson was everything a dog should be to a family with small children.
This last June, Jaxson turned 9 and was beginning to show his age but only in the subtle grayness of his muzzle. He was still relentless when it came to playing fetch. He moved with such grace and beauty that we often had people comment to us on how beautiful our dog was. We knew our days with Jaxson were limited, but thought we still had several wonderful years to enjoy his presence.
This past December we were proved wrong. Our time with Jaxson ended way to soon. What started off as something we thought that made his stomach sick (he was always getting into things that made him throw up running outside), turned into something that left him unable to walk, we rushed him to the vet. When I walked out of the vet that Sunday morning, I had no idea it was the last time I would see Jaxson alive. I wrongly assumed the vet would start him on a treatment and he would be bounding back up the stairs to our bedroom the very next day. When my phone rang that night, my heart caught in my throat. I eyes filled with tears as Dr. Williams told me Jaxson had passed that evening. It wasn't possible, was it? And what about the boys? Telling them would be even more impossible. And it nearly was.
That night and the day following were very very difficult for us. I woke at night wondering where he was only to realize he wasn't here. The days were still hard, but became easier with each passing day. The jingle of his collar and the thump of his lying of the floor after patrolling the house to make sure all were safe are still sounds missing from our house.
We pondered where to lay Jaxson to rest. Neither Michael or I could handle the thought of having him out in the pasture away from our home and family. We settled on burying him in along side our deck so he could watch the comings and goings of our house, a favorite pass time of his. My friend had her sister make a stone nameplate for him. Rob's only request had been that we have a stone for him like great-grandma.
I realize Jaxson was a dog, but please do not ever tell me he was "just a dog" because that only proves to me that you never spent any time with him and have never let a dog into your home or life. Jaxson was as much a part of the Wx family as any of the humans who have lived in our house. After all, "no home is complete without the pitter patter of puppy feet." Jaxson helped make our house a home and he will be forever missed.
A month of two passed and I was ready to give it another shot. This time, Michael wanted to try the puppy route. I had a golden retriever named King growing up whom I had fond memories of so when we saw an ad for some golden retriever pups south of town, we checked them out. Now I know puppies are all sweet and adorable and I am probably biased, but Jaxson had to of been one of the sweetest and cutest puppies ever. He was the runt of his litter, had such a sheen to his coat and was a snuggler. I love snuggling. We knew we had found our new pup.
Jaxson never outgrew his sweet, good tempered personality. If anything, he grew sweeter with each passing year. He welcomed all three of our children to our family and protected and loved them with such loyalty we couldn't have designed a better dog. Jaxson was everything a dog should be to a family with small children.
This last June, Jaxson turned 9 and was beginning to show his age but only in the subtle grayness of his muzzle. He was still relentless when it came to playing fetch. He moved with such grace and beauty that we often had people comment to us on how beautiful our dog was. We knew our days with Jaxson were limited, but thought we still had several wonderful years to enjoy his presence.
This past December we were proved wrong. Our time with Jaxson ended way to soon. What started off as something we thought that made his stomach sick (he was always getting into things that made him throw up running outside), turned into something that left him unable to walk, we rushed him to the vet. When I walked out of the vet that Sunday morning, I had no idea it was the last time I would see Jaxson alive. I wrongly assumed the vet would start him on a treatment and he would be bounding back up the stairs to our bedroom the very next day. When my phone rang that night, my heart caught in my throat. I eyes filled with tears as Dr. Williams told me Jaxson had passed that evening. It wasn't possible, was it? And what about the boys? Telling them would be even more impossible. And it nearly was.
That night and the day following were very very difficult for us. I woke at night wondering where he was only to realize he wasn't here. The days were still hard, but became easier with each passing day. The jingle of his collar and the thump of his lying of the floor after patrolling the house to make sure all were safe are still sounds missing from our house.
We pondered where to lay Jaxson to rest. Neither Michael or I could handle the thought of having him out in the pasture away from our home and family. We settled on burying him in along side our deck so he could watch the comings and goings of our house, a favorite pass time of his. My friend had her sister make a stone nameplate for him. Rob's only request had been that we have a stone for him like great-grandma.
I realize Jaxson was a dog, but please do not ever tell me he was "just a dog" because that only proves to me that you never spent any time with him and have never let a dog into your home or life. Jaxson was as much a part of the Wx family as any of the humans who have lived in our house. After all, "no home is complete without the pitter patter of puppy feet." Jaxson helped make our house a home and he will be forever missed.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
How the Lost was Found
I have a personal faith story I would like to share with everyone. It's all about a set of lost keys. I know that seems like a small thing to lose and not very significant, but hang with me. It gets better.
Let me begin by saying it is very common for me to lose things. I'm quite gifted at it actually. If there was an Olympic event for lost keys and phones, I'd be in the running for gold for sure. So when I noticed my school keys were missing last Friday, I didn't get too worked up about it. I just assumed they would resurface in the next day or 2, probably somewhere obscure, but I would find them. When I still hadn't found them on Monday, I was becoming flustered. Tuesday I called places I had been on Thursday. Still no keys. Tuesday night, Michael looked in every crevice of the Yukon and I searched every article of clothing I had or might had worn. Still no keys.
I had been praying on and off throughout my search process but had not felt any pull from God in any certain direction. I had been leading myself through the search the entire time. Tuesday night I decided to give up. I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and spoke with my God. "God, I know it's just a set of keys. I know it's not that big of a deal, but it has been weighing on me. No more. I give up. It would be awesome if you would reveal the keys to me, but if you don't, I'm done allowing it to bother me. I give it up, to you." It felt good to let it go from my shoulders to His feet.
When I woke Wednesday morning, I recalled a dream I had had while I slept... I was in the gym with the fifth graders. I was telling them about my lost set of keys and if they should happen upon them to let me know. As I was speaking, I was pulling the parachute out of the box when my hand felt something among the nylon. As I looked to my hand, one of the girls pointed and said, "Mrs. Wicks! Are those your keys?!" When I looked to where she was pointing, I saw a green lanyard through the white nylon. My hands parted the slippery surface of the parachute and clink! My keys fell to the wooden gym floor. Hmmmm.... Made me think, but really? Maybe, but doubtful.
Later that morning I was telling the account of my lost keys, prayer and dream to some co-workers. When one laughed at me I responded with, "Hey! Don't laugh at me. I'm going the gym right now to look in the parachute box!"
I headed off across the street to the gym. As I made my way to the gym closet, I wasn't sure what to think. Was I crazy? It's not like God would speak to me. I hushed my mind as I opened the supply closet, located the box and began pulling the parachute out. Clink! Keys fell into the box. My jaw nearly hit the floor and my eyes had to have been the size of saucers.
As I began to leave the gym, I had to share my story with the other PE teacher. "You'll never believe what just happened to me" I began. She listened in awe and then told me, "You know Billie Jo what's really bizarre? That box fell over yesterday and I scooped it up, pushed the parachute back inside and never saw a key."
Say what you will about the power of the human mind, but I firmly believe this is a testament of the power of God. (Like Pat said, "You're blonde, it's not like your mind could have known the answer the whole time!" Thanks Pat, thanks.) To know that God knows me, hears me and loves me enough to not only help me find the lost, but also to speak to me and in such a clear manner just leaves me in lovestruck wonder I can't even begin to describe it. How great is our God? Pretty great and then some.
Let me begin by saying it is very common for me to lose things. I'm quite gifted at it actually. If there was an Olympic event for lost keys and phones, I'd be in the running for gold for sure. So when I noticed my school keys were missing last Friday, I didn't get too worked up about it. I just assumed they would resurface in the next day or 2, probably somewhere obscure, but I would find them. When I still hadn't found them on Monday, I was becoming flustered. Tuesday I called places I had been on Thursday. Still no keys. Tuesday night, Michael looked in every crevice of the Yukon and I searched every article of clothing I had or might had worn. Still no keys.
I had been praying on and off throughout my search process but had not felt any pull from God in any certain direction. I had been leading myself through the search the entire time. Tuesday night I decided to give up. I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and spoke with my God. "God, I know it's just a set of keys. I know it's not that big of a deal, but it has been weighing on me. No more. I give up. It would be awesome if you would reveal the keys to me, but if you don't, I'm done allowing it to bother me. I give it up, to you." It felt good to let it go from my shoulders to His feet.
When I woke Wednesday morning, I recalled a dream I had had while I slept... I was in the gym with the fifth graders. I was telling them about my lost set of keys and if they should happen upon them to let me know. As I was speaking, I was pulling the parachute out of the box when my hand felt something among the nylon. As I looked to my hand, one of the girls pointed and said, "Mrs. Wicks! Are those your keys?!" When I looked to where she was pointing, I saw a green lanyard through the white nylon. My hands parted the slippery surface of the parachute and clink! My keys fell to the wooden gym floor. Hmmmm.... Made me think, but really? Maybe, but doubtful.
Later that morning I was telling the account of my lost keys, prayer and dream to some co-workers. When one laughed at me I responded with, "Hey! Don't laugh at me. I'm going the gym right now to look in the parachute box!"
I headed off across the street to the gym. As I made my way to the gym closet, I wasn't sure what to think. Was I crazy? It's not like God would speak to me. I hushed my mind as I opened the supply closet, located the box and began pulling the parachute out. Clink! Keys fell into the box. My jaw nearly hit the floor and my eyes had to have been the size of saucers.
As I began to leave the gym, I had to share my story with the other PE teacher. "You'll never believe what just happened to me" I began. She listened in awe and then told me, "You know Billie Jo what's really bizarre? That box fell over yesterday and I scooped it up, pushed the parachute back inside and never saw a key."
Say what you will about the power of the human mind, but I firmly believe this is a testament of the power of God. (Like Pat said, "You're blonde, it's not like your mind could have known the answer the whole time!" Thanks Pat, thanks.) To know that God knows me, hears me and loves me enough to not only help me find the lost, but also to speak to me and in such a clear manner just leaves me in lovestruck wonder I can't even begin to describe it. How great is our God? Pretty great and then some.
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