Football

Every year, right around this time, we embark on another Lost River football season. Two weeks of daily doubles in the midst of farming means that if we want to spend time with daddy then we had better head to the field. Most of the time that means the football field. The boys love running around the big boys at practice. Those older, tough, too cool high schoolers are so good with our boys. Our boys get to play catch with them, tackle their legs and drink their water. It has become a family time for us as crazy as that may seem.

Being a girl, I never played football, but I do have a deep love for sports and a bit of a competitive side. I think that there are life lessons learned on a sports field (or court) that cannot be taught anywhere else. I know I am a better person for having been involved with my teams, and I want that same thing for my boys. They are hearing some of these lessons already as daddy coaches, and they are only 7, 5, 3 and 1.

Football offers even more opportunity for life lessons than many sports. There is nothing like getting knocked down over and over again and having to choose to get up each time. There is nothing that shows that 2 is better than 1 and 3 is better than 2, than seeing a good line doing their job. Football has its glory boys and its boys who work in the shadows. And every good glory boy knows exactly where their bread is buttered, and they will not hesitate to give Kudos to the boys in the shadows. All of that teaches these young men how to be men. To think beyond themselves and think about the team. It will help make them better college students, better friends, better husbands and better dads. What mom doesn't want that for her boys?

Those latter goals are what makes our family so into football. Some people wonder if it gets old for me. Honestly, for the most part, it doesn't. It is not the sport itself that grabs me, but the idea of "team" and the etching away at boys to make them better men. Dennis works very hard to try to help "his boys" think about the bigger picture. So when we are hanging out at football practice it is not just about the pigskin, it is also about watching daddy teach and being a part of those young mens lives. Of course, it is also about catching, passing, running, tackling and all things that make them "boy." I am so thankful to God that we get to do these things. What a wonderfully blessed life we have. And maybe the reason he did not give us 4 girls:)

Never let them see you scared

Today there were a couple of interesting "firsts" at the Dunlea house. I know my life will be full of these with the boys.

I was in the laundry room trying to get a handle on the mountain of dirty clothes that seems to find its way there. My dirty clothes bin is a rolling contraption that has three bags hanging from the frame,a bag for towels, one for whites, and one for darks. The bags velcro to these cute little metal hangers and then hang from the frame.

I started a load of laundry and left for a second to answer the phone. When I came back one of the metal hangers was gone. I looked in the bag, under the bag, moved the entire cart, just about everywhere and could not find the hanger. I was concentrating so hard on finding that dumb thing that I didn't hear Grady walk up behind me. He said "Mom look what I found." Just hearing him made me jump a little, but then when I saw the live, wiggling snake in his hand that made me jump just a bit more. I quickly gained my composure, because there is one thing I do know, as a teacher and a mom of 4 boys, I cannot let them know that anything bothers me or grosses me out. Because that will give them ammunition I do not want them to have. I calmly said "Grady, we do not bring snakes into the house." His response, "Ok, can I go show dad before I take him out?" "Yes," I said calmly, "just don't drop it." Grady showed daddy and bragged about how he made me jump, and then took the poor snake back outside and let him go in the weeds. I am happy that Grady loves animals and wants to investigate and collect them. I do draw the line at keeping snakes for any length of time.

You wonder why I had to go into great detail about the laundry cart and hanger. Well, after the snake had left the building, I asked Kellen "Do you know where my hanger is to my laundry bag?" (Notice I went straight to him, I had a feeling he might know a thing or two about this). "Yes," he says, "buried in the dirt." Just like, duh, mom where else would it be. Well, why didn't I think to look outside in the flowerbed for a part to my laundry bag. I asked him to go get it for me and told him that if he ever took my laundry bag apart again, he was going to be in big trouble. "OK" he said, as he was running away from me. No big deal.

Just another day in the Dunlea house......what will a little girl do with us?

Rodeo Results and mounds of paperwork

Hello Sports Fans, Some of you might have tuned in earlier this week to the blog that talked about taking our dog to the vet. Well, in the end Dennis and I managed to stay on the 8 seconds and have come up with the victory: immunized pets.

In all seriousness, Rambo did quite well. Once he was in the car he was quite the gentleman. Previous attempts to put him in the car had resulted in Dennis being scratched and bitten (that is why the muzzle was great). At the vet's office, he was not totally interested in them examining him, but once a fox tail was discovered in his ear and he got some drugs, he was chill.

Poor Todd the cat watched on from the cat carrier not really sure what all the fuss was about.  Oh, what we do for our animals and for our adopted daughters.

We are just about done with the first set of paperwork that needs to be done for our adoption. We are waiting for our FBI and Oregon criminal checks to come back stating that we are not felons or criminals in hiding. It is unbelievable the amount of paperwork. Everyone thinks there would be a lot, but when I start to describe in that is involved, most are amazed. I do understand it, but wow, adopting is not for the faint of heart. I guess they make sure the process is crazy enough, that only people who really want to adopt can endure to the end.

We pray each night for our little one and ask God to protect and provide. This phase is a bit like carrying a biological child to term, although the gestation maybe a bit longer with this. It is exciting and a bit stressful, but in the end we will be united with the newest member of our family. That definitely keeps us pressing on.

The Rambo Rodeo

Today we are taking our cat and dog into the vet. This should be quite the adventure getting Rambo, the blue-healer cross, to go anywhere. We got Rambo 3 years ago when he was 2. He is a nice, fun dog and is really good with the boys. I must admit he is not the most intelligent dog God has ever put on the planet, but he is loving. Well, he hates, HATES to ride in vehicles. We think something traumatic happened to him before he came to us. He will not go with Dennis working, will not jump into the back of the pickup, will not get in my car...he is having none of it. If there were a delicious Tbone steak, he still would not get in. However, today he has to go.

He has a foot he has been hopping on a bit. I am pretty sure there is a thorn in there, but he won't sit still long enough to let me look. So that is good enough reason to take him, but we also need to update his shots. Why, you ask are we doing this now since we have put it off for years. Well, we have to have a letter from our veterinarian for our adoption, Home Study paperwork. I guess they want to make sure you can take care of a dog before they entrust you with a child:) The real reason is to check and make sure our pets are immunized and have a decent temperament.

So, in about 30 minutes we are going to do all we can to get Rambo into the vehicle. Dennis is going to be Rambo's driver, and I will escort Tod the cat. We borrowed a muzzle from a friend and think we might put it on him from the start, just to ease some of the craziness. We are hoping for the best! I will let you know how this all turns out!

Number 5

Five has become a very important number in the Dunlea house as of late. We have decided to add one to our brood. Now many of you are shocked, many not surprised at all; I fit in both categories. Dennis and I always talked about adoption as something we were interested in doing. Long before we had a house of 4 wonderfully, energetic boys, we knew international adoption was something that was on both our hearts. We have been blessed with so much (not necessarily monetarily, however compared to the world we are wealthy), with family, community, education, the list goes on and on.  To those that have much, much is expected. Besides, we just felt like our family had room to grow.

When Dennis and I started seriously talking about it, I said that I would pray about it. He, of course, was ready to adopt twins:) I think as Christians sometimes we say we are going to pray about guidance and often fail to take action that the Bible so clearly tells us to do. "Take care of widows and orphans." There is no ambiguity in that sentence. I don't need to pray to see if that is right. Is it right for us now? Do we have the capacity? What about our boys? All important questions, and things that have been the topic of many prayers to our Lord. The overwhelming peace we get is God telling us "Yes, I am in charge. Trust Me."

And so we are taking the leap. Just starting the Home Study phase, we are far from bringing our little girl home. Yes, I did say little girl (at least that is our plan). It is exciting, scary, fun, crazy, and exhilarating. We are adopting from Ethiopia. For some reason in all our reading that was were Dennis and I were both drawn. We are adopting for selfish reasons, for our family and for our enjoyment, but also maybe we can make a difference in the world in just a small way. So please pray for us as we go about this wonderful adventure. Pray for our little one who may or may not be born yet. Pray for guidance and wisdom.

As I close I leave you with these Ethiopian numbers. 
4.3 million orphans
One in six children die before they turn 5.

I have had a few people say "Wow, you will have 5 kids!" It is true and slightly crazy, but that is not the number 5 that stays in my head. 1 in 6 children die before they are 5. Now, that will stay with you!

"Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes Me..." Mark 9:37

Haying, Napping and 4 boys

We (mostly Dennis) farm alfalfa hay and some grain, but hay is our main crop. We try to raise high quality alfalfa, selling it do dairy farmers. The high protein hay helps the dairy cows produce more milk, therefore they get better yields, and we get more money.

In one summer, we usually get 3 cuttings of hay (meaning we will cut each field 3 times). The process works something like this, cut the hay, few days later it is raked, and a few days after that baled. The baling part of the process is really where the point of my story comes into play. Alfalfa needs to be baled when it is not too wet, or not too dry. It must have the right amount of moisture to keep the leaves on the stems, but not so much as to produce mold or even worse burn. Burn can actually catch the hay on fire, catching your barn on fire and causing a great amount of damage and money loss. SO, most of the time the hay is baled in the middle of the night when the dew is just right.

Well, that makes for one tired farmer as 1st cutting comes to a close. Three weeks of sleeplessness is pretty tough on a guy. My poor husband tries to catch a few z's when he can. Often times, he comes home mid-afternoon, eats, and sits in the recliner for a power nap. The boys are usually playing outside or even in the toy room. However, the moment Dennis falls asleep their "bother daddy" radar is turned on and they swoop in for the kill. He could be sitting in that chair for 25 minutes and not one of the 4 will say a word to him or touch him in anyway. But, the very second he goes to sleep Connor is ready to play catch,  Grady needs help reading his book, Kellen wants to change his clothes for the 4th time in one hour, or Keagan wants to sit in his lap. Many times when they are requesting his assistance, I am no more than 15 feet away. They never ask him to help with things when I am cooking dinner and he is reading the newspaper. That is when they always come to me. If he is asleep, that is the very second they need him and only him to help.

This is not something Dennis is making up. I have seen the very phenomena in action. Unbelievable but true. Haying is tough on any guy, but when you have 4 little ones in the house it is a bit rougher than normal.

Just another night on the farm

Every now and then our dog Rambo barks at something in the middle of the night, a deer, an owl, neighbor farmer checking frost on his spuds, the list goes on. Many times we hear barking and then smell the memorable odor of a skunk and know right away what he was chasing.

Last night I heard him barking like he was just about to get ahold of whatever was in his sights. As I walked to the back door I smelled that wonderful smell and knew. The problem was he was in the garage barking like a crazy man, and when I opened the door I could hear a scuffling of some sort. Not wanting to walk around the car to come face to face with a skunk, I climbed on the hood of our Expedition to look on the other side. (Picture that, PJ shirt, glasses, crazy hair on top of the car). Sure enough there in the corner was a baby skunk. Right then Dennis got home from baling hay (it is about 3:30am) to find his wife coming to greet him with news of a skunk in the garage. We pulled out the car, rolled balls toward it (the thing is 2 feet from the large, open garage door, but won't go out) nothing was working. Not want I wanted to be doing at 4:00am, but I knew the dog would not leave it alone if we just went to bed. Finally, after much poking and prodding we realized it had no spray left, so Dennis got a broom and pulled it out of the corner and pushed it out the door. Thank God, now I gewt to go back to bed.

However, once in the house the smell seemed to stay with me. Oh, yes it was with me alright, on my shirt, in my hair, on my pillowcase. So, I hopped in the shower at 4:15am. Thankfully that seemed to work. Finally, I was going to get some sleep (if you know me well, you know that I love and need sleep). Just as I was dozing off at 5:00am, in comes Grady with a bloody nose. Poor kid and poor mama. No sleep for me.