The Greenhouse

Westley's Birth Announcement!

2011-06-27T21:33:00.000-07:00

Isn't this too cute? We love our Woozle.

Stationery card

View the entire collection of cards.

The wild birth story

2009-07-10T20:57:00.000-07:00

It was the longest of labors, it was the shortest of labors...

Wednesday, June 17th:

I was busy stalking two other pregnant friends who were in a race to the finish with me, and were now in labor. I kept checking their status online, and thought, "Huh...how funny...all this reading about labor is making me think I can almost feel contractions. No...wait...I DO feel contractions!" I found it interesting that instead of just being dull "practicy" ones, they actually caught my attention. A couple more happened that evening, which put me in excited mode. I let Garfield know he should probably plan to not work the next day.

3 a.m.: Woke up to more contractions, couldn't fall back asleep, figured this was it.

6 a.m.: Fell back to sleep after contractions puttered out. Woke up late the morning of the 18th quite confused, as the contractions seemed weaker and farther apart. Felt guilty for asking hubby to stay home for nothing.

Thursday, June 18th:

Weird day. How do you keep on functioning like nothing's going on when you're having random contractions all day? They were quite sporadic, and not lasting very long, so I still wasn't sure I was even in early labor. That's how very unconvincing these contractions were. I called my Dad, who lives 30 minutes away, and let him know that he may want to plan to spend the night since he might be getting a middle-of-the-night call. I did some napping, played with the kids, made dinner, ate dinner, prepped kids that they might wake up to find us at the hospital, took last family picture of 5 "just in case"...

10 p.m.: Dad arrived. I had just laid down on the couch with a notebook, curious to time these suckers and see if they had any rhyme or reason to them. They were 15-19 minutes apart, lasting about 45 seconds. No biggie. I don't like to leave for the hospital until they're about 4-5 minutes apart, 60 seconds long. We've got time.

11:30 p.m.: Garfield and I headed upstairs to "get some sleep in case we have to leave in the morning". Yeah. That worked. For about 2 seconds. Now the contractions were suddenly about 5-8 minutes apart. We threw some more things into our half-packed bags.

Friday, June 19th:

Midnight: No sooner had we climbed into bed when the contractions started flying at me much closer together. It's ok. I still have a handle on them. They're manageable, but I definitely know this is labor by now. Sorry, Honey, you can't fall asleep after all.

1 a.m.: First contraction to get away from me (read: I snap at poor hubby that he'd better kick up his coaching into high gear, or else...). Are these seriously just 2-3 minutes apart? What the heck is going on? I'm usually the world's slowest laborer! I call the doctor's phone service to let them know we'd be coming in. They assure me that if I know I'm in labor, I just need to show up, and congratulate me on the impending birth. They probably laughed a maniacal laugh at their cruel joke after hanging up with me.

1 a.m-2a.m.: Fastest hour ever to pass, as we desperately try to grab the last few things from the checklist between suddenly killer contractions. There's not even enough time between them to go to the bathroom. An experience I don't recommend. Garfield's grabbing his coffee, I give a quick thought to putting on a bit of makeup for the pictures. Immediately scratch that idea.

2 a.m.: Rush out the door in a mad panic, barely taking the time to let Dad know we were leaving. Pray out loud, desperately, that the Lord would let this baby slow down long enough to let us make it in time. Climb in van, trying not to think about how in the world I could already be feeling an urge to push.

Our traditional "heading to the hospital" shot, taken in a frantic rush. Note the fear in my eyes.

2:10 a.m.: Calmly ask Garfield if he could please drive just a wee bit faster. My teeth were chattering (it's 100 degrees outside), so he turns down the a/c. I don't tell him that it's because I'm in transition, lest he become as panicked as I was.

2:15 a.m.: We wait at an interminable red light, through an excruciating contraction. Why on earth we didn't run the light is beyond me. Middle of the night, and in labor. Doesn't that give you the right to violate traffic laws?!?

2:20 a.m.: Arrive at hospital, but can't make it to the door without stopping for a contraction. Door is LOCKED. Are you kidding me?!? Fighting tears as the security guard comes to let us in, and has the nerve to hold us up by asking for hubby's id. Listen, Mister. Unless you know how to deliver a baby, you had BETTER speed this up. I am SO not naming the baby after you! I envision the headlines: "Baby born in hospital elevator, crazed mother strangles security guard".

2:30 a.m.: Arrive at the Labor & Delivery unit, just sure that this kid is going to fall out right onto the wheelchair. The bewildered nurses ask me if I called ahead. "Yes, and they told me there was no need to notify you directly, but I'm guessing they were wrong?" They exchange nervous glances.

I get into a room and tell my nurse that I either really need to pee, or I need to push, but this being my fourth baby, I'm guessing it's push. This apparently is a good way to avoid filling out all that paperwork during labor, by the way. She checks me, and I'm 7 cm dilated. I roll onto my right side, and less than five minutes later I'm 9 cm dilated. Did I mention that I'm usually the world's slowest laborer?!

My home away from home, a Northeast Baptist L&D room

The next few minutes were quite exciting. I now have five nurses helping us, and no doctor in sight. (My doc was out of town, so they were trying to get a hold of the doc on call.) I can tell that Shepherd's head was all but out. The water bag was the only thing holding him back. I keep begging for them to break my water, but they tell me that only the doctor is allowed to do that. Then where the heck is the stinkin' doctor?? The nurses accuse me of still having my sense of humor.

(Later, Garfield tells me that the nurses were whispering with concern about not being able to reach the doctor. Apparently his wife was also unaware of his whereabouts, and was not pleased about being woken up at 2:30 a.m. Garfield also told me later that a kind nurse had mercy on me, and might have "accidentally" snipped my water bag.)

The doctor didn't have time to make it to the scene, so the nurses got the excitement of delivering! Almost simultaneously with my water breaking, I can feel Shepherd's head emerge, and then his little slippery body just squirmed right out. That right there has got to be the best feeling in the world. It was 3 a.m., just half an hour after arriving in the hospital room, and only two hours after my first really difficult contraction. I was nursing my sweet baby before I'd even had time to process the fact that we'd left home.

Whew! A little too close for comfort, even for someone who likes to do most of her laboring at home. And so goes the story of Shepherd Landon Green's arrival.

All slicked up, and nowhere to go

Our little glow-worm

Shepherd at (gulp) two weeks?!?

2009-07-03T14:38:00.001-07:00

There is no other two-week span that flies by more quickly than your child's first two weeks of life, I'm convinced. The first week is particularly fast and blurry. I'm guessing it's primarily caused by not wanting your newborn to be anything but a newborn--wanting time to stand still while you take in all the new facial expressions, the sweet smell, the itty bitty features, and etch the feeling of their tiny body in your arms for times in the future when they will be too big to hold.

You've gone through such a life-changing event, followed by the 'round the clock feeding, burping, changing. You are in a time warp, and quite often become slightly surprised to find out that the rest of the world is still moving along at their previous pace.

I suppose that's where I am now: disbelief. I can tell my little guy is filling out, but I'm still basking in his newness. It's hard to believe it's already been two weeks since that crazy night at the hospital, but at the same time, I'm having a hard time remembering, truly remembering, what life was like without him. I suppose that's how all-encompassing motherhood is with a new baby.

The Lord provided me with a sweet moment last night. Shepherd was born at 3 a.m., two weeks ago. Last night, he woke me up with his whimpers in the middle of the night. I looked at the clock, sure I had missed his exact two-week-old moment, but I hadn't! It was 2:52 a.m., and a smile spread across my face in the dark as I realized that exactly two weeks prior, I was pushing to get my little boy into my arms. I got to savor those minutes leading up to 3 a.m., and reflected on his birth. God is so good to understand that sappy sentimental mommies thrive on these small, precious moments.

Some cuteness from Shepherd's first week

2009-06-27T19:09:00.000-07:00

My mom has stayed the week with us, which was a tremendous blessing! Our three "older" children have not really skipped a beat during this transition time, which has been wonderful. Having Grandmother to play with them and feed them has freed me up to pretty much just love on this precious little guy, and since we spend so much time nursing, it's been great to have the extra set of helping hands.

Emma is in love with her baby brother, and tries to steal him from me any time he's not nursing. She's really an invaluable helper to me:

Shepherd's such a little ball of baby. Here he is next to a pretty small remote control for size comparison:

And next to a ruler:

A little sun therapy while the other kids swam:

Another angle--the sweet feet:

Grandmother perfected her mousecakes, which the kids got to decorate themselves. "Marshmallows with our BREAKFAST?! Yippee!"

It's been a great first week, and I'm feeling beyond blessed!

Welcome Shepherd Landon Green!

2009-06-22T16:12:00.000-07:00

Well, as it turns out, it didn't really matter that my doctor was out of town, because she wouldn't have arrived in time to catch the baby, anyway! After a wild ride, narrowly missing a baby delivered by Daddy in the van, our fourth child was born just minutes after arriving at the hospital. But that's a whole other story. Let's get to the good stuff:

Shepherd Landon Green was born on Friday, June 19th, 2009, at 3:00 a.m. He weighed 5 lbs., 8 oz., and was 20 inches long. A little pipsqueak! He's got dark hair and baby grey eyes, both of which are very likely to change if our other children are any indication.

First picture, just moments after birth:

Proud Daddy:

Our family of six!

The kids were reluctant to share their new baby brother with their grandparents, and couldn't wait for their next turn to hold him:

Emma, the excellent big sister, with Shepherd:

Garfield with his new baby brother, who he hopes "will stay tiny forever":
Elizabeth's been claiming that "baby brother is so cuuuute!" and "I can't wait to love on him" for weeks now. She finally gets her chance:

Time to get this crew home!

Watching our kids love on their new brother with pure joy has been more of a delight than we ever expected. This child has plenty of hands to hold him, and is in danger of being smothered with kisses!

Going to try and rest...

2009-06-18T21:35:00.000-07:00

It's about 11:30, and we're going to try and rest for awhile. But I have a feeling these contractions aren't gonna let me sleep. They've moved from 15 minutes apart to about 10 within 2 hours or so, and are becoming regular at 45 seconds long. This has to be the beginning of the end of pregnancy!

I'm guessing we'll be heading to the hospital sometime in the wee hours of the morning, and hopefully having this baby tomorrow! Grandfather is spending the night, so our childcare is in place, and we've prepped the kids that they may wake up to find out we're at the hospital. There are some apprehensions, but also a lot of excitement. They've waited an eternity for this baby---considering they have no concept of time!

I just wish my doctor wasn't out of town, but we're praying for a great on-call doc and fabulous nurses. Please join us in praying that all goes smoothly and that I can be strong!

An update

2009-06-18T17:24:00.001-07:00

For those of you who aren't on Facebook, here's the latest:

Contractions started getting farther apart this morning after I went back to bed, but have continued throughout the day---very irregularly. Just lately have I noticed they seem to be getting closer together again. We'll start timing them after the kids go down to see where we are. I do think all the things I've experienced today are part of latent labor, and that they will lead to active labor at some point. It doesn't seem like it's going to fizzle out altogether.

I'm used to these long, gradual labors. Wouldn't know what to do with a fast one...

Is this it?

2009-06-18T02:42:00.000-07:00

Hmmmm...I've been having contractions since yesterday evening. I went to bed at midnight, but they woke me up again at 3 a.m., so here I am, posting at this ungodly hour. I'd love to know within the next 2 hours if this is real labor so that we can determine if Hubby should go to work or not. (His project is clear across town, and involves picking up day laborers, so it would be quite a hassle for him to leave and be called back an hour later.)

Night owls can't be held responsible for any unintelligible writing they do in the wee hours of the morning, so I should end here for lack of coherent thought. If there's anything else to report, I'll try to check in.

But baby whales are cute, right?

2009-06-17T13:16:00.000-07:00

I hope so, because I'm the size of one. Here's a picture of me at around 38 weeks; I'm now 40 weeks and counting! (I will say, this photo is deceptive...my belly is really much bigger than it looks!)

Anyway, truth be told, I've temporarily lost interest in blogs--my blog, other peoples' blogs, the whole deal. My computer time's been slashed, so I've been going behind the blogosphere's back, and getting my "fix" over on Facebook. I don't consider myself to be an instant gratification person, but for a busy mom who only gets a few minutes at a time to hop online, FB gets me the quick updates. It doesn't give me the writing outlet I need, though, so I'm sure I'll be back to blogging once things get settled in with the new baby.

Speaking of which, you may have noticed I'm a couple of days past due. Oddly, I'm perfectly fine with that. I think the fear of impending pain outweighs any anxiety I have over wanting to get it over with. I've never been one to want to hurry labor along; they'll come when they're good and ready. Every extra day is just additional time to cash in on the unusual productive streaks that hit me as birth approaches. I'm wondering if my hubby's ulterior motives for wanting a big family have anything to do with knowing that his wife is suddenly uber-efficient on projects that I've been procrastinating on for months (or years)?

Our first two kids were a week early, and our third one was ten days late. So we'll see what this little guy does. This pregnancy has had some differences from the first three:

*The worst of the "morning" sickness was far more intense, but also shorter, this time.

*Even after the vomiting, etc. ended, I've felt a somewhat constant sense of indigestion throughout the pregnancy.

*My round ligaments have brought some really fun excruciating pain at random times, usually during the night.

*Varicose veins have made their debut on my legs, but I've been told they can disappear again after birth? We'll see.

Whoa...that list sounds like a whine-bag wrote it! So here are some good things:

*The timing of the pregnancy was new, and I got to be over the sickness just in time for the holidays, which made me really enjoy them.

*I've had no anxiety whatsoever this time about adding another child to the mix. I guess by number four, you realize the logistics will all work themselves out, and the new baby factor doesn't seem as daunting. I think it will be fun!

*The kids are all really looking forward to the baby. Even the youngest, who's not quite 2.5, loves to talk to him, tell me how cute he is, and says she can't wait to hold him and love on him.

My doctor just left town for a few days, and Garfield secured some work that he'd like to complete this week, so we'll be very happy if the baby decides to stay put until at least this weekend. But of course, whenever the Lord says it's time to meet our newest one, we'll be thrilled to do so! In the meantime, I'll just keep resting and nesting, and enjoying the other three.

Here are some random pics of the last month:

My birthday dinner date at The Vineyards

Garfield and the kids, having a blast in the kiddie pool

I can't promise I'll try, but I'll try to try

2009-04-14T13:20:00.000-07:00

Whew. It's been a month since my last post. That's got to be some sort of record. I won't promise to get back on the blogging bandwagon, since I have a good reason for falling off: I started using afternoon nap time to do lessons with Emma. Yep, this means that I no longer have that precious 1.5-2 hour break in the day with uninterrupted quiet time. Several things have gone the way of the Dodo in giving up that break, blogging included. But so far, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make in order to not have to worry about keeping the little one busy while I work with Emma. For now, it works.

So, I'll leave you with this little "interview" I conducted with Emma (age 6) and Garfield (age 3.5). I asked them these questions in private, and recorded their answers exactly as they gave them. I thought it was hilarious! Oh, and if you see anything in parenthesis, it's my two cents.

1. What is something mom always says to you?
Emma: I love you.
Garfield: I love you.

2. What makes mom happy?
Emma: For me to play with her hair.
Garfield: For me to clean up everything in our house, and when I be kind to Elizabeth, and when I obey.

3. What makes mom sad?
Emma: When I don’t obey.
Garfield: When I don’t obey you.

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
Emma: By tickling me.
Garfield: By being silly.

5. What was your mom like as a child?
Emma: Like me.
Garfield: Baby toys. (We figured out later that he probably thought I asked him what I liked as a child.)

6. How old is your mom?
Emma: 30.
Garfield: I forgot.

7. How tall is your mom?
Emma: The size of the middle tree in our backyard. (It's about 20 ft. tall!)
Garfield: All the way up to your forehead, but you’re bigger than me.

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
Emma: Take a nap.
Garfield: Clean up. And play with swords. (Um, yeah. Sure.)

9. What does your mom do when you're not around.
Emma: Sometimes go some places.
Garfield: Vacuum.

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
Emma: Relaxing. (Way to rat me out, Em!)
Garfield: For living with us.

11. What is your mom really good at?
Emma: Writing lists.
Garfield: Cleaning up.

12. What is your mom not very good at?
Emma: Jumping on the trampoline because she has a baby in her belly.
Garfield: Having a poofy dog in your ear. And vacuuming.

13. What does your mom do for her job?
Emma: She helps take care of the kiddos while Daddy’s at work.
Garfield: Vacuum.

14. What is your mom's favorite food?
Emma: Cauliflower w/ cheese.
Garfield: Chicken.

15. What makes you proud of your mom?
Emma: She gives me treats when Garfield goes potty.
Garfield: Vacuuming.

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Emma: Kung Fu Panda. (That's me: fat, and into martial arts.)
Garfield: You. And me.

17. What do you and your mom do together?
Emma: Go on Girls’ Day Out.
Garfield: Play.

18. How are you and your mom the same?
Emma: We both have brown eyes.
Garfield: Black hair.

19. How are you and your mom different?
Emma: She has a bigger nose than me.
Garfield: Because I’m wearing grey, and you’re wearing black and blue.

20. How do you know your mom loves you?
Emma: Because she takes care of me.
Garfield: Because you take care of me.

21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
Emma: The consignment store.
Garfield: Sea World and the zoo.

What we've been up to

2009-03-13T11:51:00.000-07:00

Well, we didn't win a chance to go to Australia for 6 months, but that's ok. Once we saw who they picked for the Top 50, we knew it was the wrong gig for us---almost all their selections were late teen/early 20's single wild folk. Needless to say, we didn't fit the bill.

But we've had plenty of little adventures of our own around here. There have been tea parties on a blanket in the living room, complete with milk in tiny tea cups, Oreos, and blueberry coffee cake.

Getting to wash the tiny dishes herself was a treat for Emma.

We've had the construction of various buildings, such as this lovely cabin and stable. It must be comfy, because all our horses seem to be called to a nap.

We've spent time playing outside in our yard, and also meeting up with a group of friends from MOPS at a park. (Emma is her daddy's daughter, by the way. She shot up and over the top of this climbing wall like nothing, before I even realized she was on it.)

We visited a new batch of Siberian Huskies near my parents' house in Boerne. Emma, who lives for dogs, remarked on the way over there that, "Mommy, I can barely breathe because the butterflies in my tummy are so excited!" (Sorry, Grandfather. I didn't mean to chop you out of the picture.)

On the baby front, our little guy is rambunctious and growing steadily, and I already feel large as a barge at only 26 weeks. This picture was taken about two weeks ago, and I know I've grown since then.

And we also celebrated my incredible hubby's birthday last weekend with special dinners, flan, and peach cobbler. Happy birthday, Garfield! You're the best husband and Daddy in the world! Here's a video of Elizabeth explaining Daddy's birthday dessert.
Thanks for checking back in!

Our Tourism Queensland Applications

2009-02-27T07:22:00.000-08:00

G'day, Mate!

A few weeks ago, hubby and I heard about the "Best Job in the World" opening: a 6-month gig living as island caretaker on the Great Barrier Reef. Your duties include going on excursions around the islands and then reporting back to the world via blog, in order to promote tourism to Queensland, Australia. You also have to do minimal upkeep of the island (such as feeding fish and checking mail), in exchange for free stay in a gorgeous beach house. The pay is also nice.

Um, it took me about all of .02 seconds to start hyperventilating. Could a job like this really exist? We both looove this type of thing, especially since it includes diving and such, and we've always wanted to go to the Great Barrier Reef. Oh, wait. Neither of us could just up and go to Australia alone. But...hang on...keep reading....you can bring your family?! Honey, let's apply NOW!!!

I've got to admit, I've been shamefully obsessed with this idea ever since I heard about it. I had trouble falling asleep, working out all the logistics in my head. (The job starts 2 weeks after I'm due, but hey, it's a fourth baby. No biggie.) I'd dream about it. I'd wake up with a racing heartbeat just thinking about it. I was having fishy visions dancing in my head all the day long, and was teaching my 2-year-old to say "Great Barrier Reef". I was researching all the dangerous Australian animals that I needed to keep my children away from, lest they get eaten and/or poisoned. Ah, those were fun weeks just thinking about the possibilities!

And then the rubber met the road, and we had to put together our 60-second application videos. Tougher than one might think. You can't go a second over, lest you be disqualified. You're supposed to tell them why you're the best person for the job, exhibit an adventurous spirit (don't laugh---I have one, it's just temporarily buried), and show some island knowledge.

Here's Garfield's video (if you notice a crazy person either climbing up/jumping off large mountains in his pictures, that's my insane husband): watch Garfield's video

Did you remember to give him 5 stars? Ok, now mine: watch Steph's video

My dreams were pretty much shattered when 34,000 people from 200 countries ended up applying, but hey, it was an insanely fun idea while it lasted. They will announce the short list of 50 on Monday, so if you hear crying from my house, you'll know why.

Easing back into bloggy world

2009-02-25T14:24:00.000-08:00

You thought you were rid of me, huh? Well, it's not THAT easy! I just come and go on the blogosphere in spurts, like everything else in my life. C'mon, you should know that by now.

So anyway, starting off with a quick little post is always a good way to break myself back into the habit.

The other day the kids were feeling cooped up in the house, so I sent them out back to play. They'd not been out there ten minutes before deciding to lug our kennel to the porch, and play this little game:

At some points, they were all three in there, seemingly having a very important conference about something or another:

I guess being cooped up isn't all that bad if it's voluntary. And to think, I worry about their room being too small. Ha!

(Saaay...I DO like to blog, Sam I Am! More than I like green eggs and ham!
And I would blog up in a tree, so long as my children let me be.
And I will blog both day and night, and I will blog whilst offspring fight.
While they sleep, while they eat, I will blog---oh, what a treat!
And I will blog and ignore my doggy, I will blog while laundry's soggy.
Family can feed themselves, I'm sure, 'cause blogging really is the cure!
I WILL blog now, Sam, you see! As soon as these children will let me be.)

A dubious distinction

2009-02-01T18:40:00.000-08:00

From the mouth of my 6-year-old, Emma: "Mommy, I forgot. Is it lizards, or squirrels that when you hold them by their tail, the tail can break off and they'll grow a new one?"

I thought that was a hilarious mix-up, and couldn't get the visual out of my mind of a squirrel's tail just popping right off!

The weather and other such unimportant subjects--like sonograms ;)

2009-01-27T19:38:00.000-08:00

Today was a wintery day. A front blew in quite suddenly, bringing with it temperatures that are supposed to drop into the 20's tonight, and very cold drizzle. The skies were overcast all day, and the wind was howling. All in all, it made for a very contemplative afternoon. A quiet couch by the window and a cup of hot tea were in order, so I obliged.

And the timing of it was perfect, because I had a lot to consider. Did you know I'm pregnant? You did? Well, why didn't you clue me in on it? You see, up until today, I haven't really felt pregnant. I felt incredibly sick, but so much so that I wasn't able to concentrate on the sickness being related to a baby. Then the holidays came with all their splendor and distraction, followed by January, which was welcomed like an old friend, bringing with it hope of reestablishing some order and "normalcy" in our lives.

Which brings me to today. A cold, blustery day that I'd been waiting impatiently for---the day we were scheduled for a sonogram. So then why was I so darned nervous all morning as the hour closed in? Because reality was about to hit, that's why.

We really didn't care if our first child was a boy or a girl, and for the second and third we were only slightly more curious on the matter. But for some reason, I knew that the fourth child's gender (in our family's case) was going to make a big difference in the way our family dynamics would shape together. That doesn't mean we would've been disappointed either way. It's just that trying to imagine both scenarios painted completely different pictures. Would it be another sweet little girl, who would give us a four-to-one female/male ratio during the day? Or would it be another son, who would balance out the scales and give the kids another brother?

Knowing that the Lord knew this child and the number of their days before the foundation of the world gave me the comfort that I needed, but by golly, I was still nervous about finding out. Our family would be perfectly ordained the way God planned it...but what way did He plan?

We took our firstborn with us, and armed with caffeine, hoped the baby would cooperate. Sure enough, it did! But that sent us into a whole new slew of thoughts. Garfield, Emma, and I were all in a stupor for hours this afternoon as we let it sink in. So much to consider, now that we know! It was nice to spend the afternoon in prayer for this child in my womb, now being able to visualize him/her so much more, and having the time to process the reality of it all. Quite the delightful and blessed day.

Until next time...

...What's that you say? Oh? You'd like to know the gender, too? I'm sorry, I plum forgot that you might be interested in that little tidbit of information.

Well, if you care for me to share,
Think pink if you dare!
But I'll go *wink, wink*
Because our bundle of joy
Is a sweet baby boy!

(Thanks for playing along and reading this far.) :o)

Elizabeth turns 2!

2009-01-19T18:22:00.000-08:00

(But not before I snuck a video of her stating her age at 1!)

I can hardly bear to admit it, but my baby turns two today. (Well, technically speaking, my baby hasn't yet been born. I'm referring to the one out of the womb.)

Two years ago today, our sweet Elizabeth decided she was finally ready to meet us, almost two weeks after her due date. She was good enough to wait until a very unusual ice storm had barely passed, and then leisurely made her entrance on her own time.

Our only mistake was not making 'Joy' a part of her name, because that's all she's brought to this family over the last two years. She's been the easiest baby imaginable, with a tender, compliant disposition and the most adorable sense of humor in any two year old I've ever met. She sleeps like a little champ (her usual waking time is 11 a.m.---I know, don't hate me). She rarely cries about anything, even when she gets hurt. She's usually content to be entertained by her siblings or putter around the house finding interesting things to examine. She says "yeth, Thir" (yes, Sir), even when she's not the one being reprimanded. She's been speaking in three and four word sentences for over a month, and repeats everything we say.

She's the most serious little pray-er, keeping her head bowed and her eyes closed until it's time for the "amen". She rarely forgets to say "thank you" when you give her something, do something for her, or compliment her. Ever since she was about a year old, she'd be the one to clap and cheer for her brother and sister when they said their memory verses, and now she's beginning to learn some for herself. And perhaps most endearing is the way she's constantly cracking us up--sometimes on purpose, sometimes without realizing anyone's looking. It's usually her hilarious faces, but often it's just the fact that she likes to roar or the way she gets so concerned about her brother "Dado". Or the fact that when someone sneezes she says "achoo" to them instead of "bless you". Or the way she just has to "boop bunton belly" (poke my belly button) when she sees it. And don't try to tell her she's tiny, because she'll point to you and retort, "No, you're tiny!"

The girl loves bath night, because she knows she can get her daddy to give her a lotion rub-down afterwards, and she makes sure to twist into position as she asks that he do her "back, too". When I rock her at night, she always requests that I sing "Frosty the Snowman", cracking up any time I get to the part about his button nose. She wakes up so happy, and I'll often hear her awake in her crib laughing at who-knows-what in the middle of the night.

Elizabeth, I know you'll soon be leaving your baby stage behind and trading it in for your little girl stage. You won't wobble so precariously when you try to walk quickly, because your adorable feet with tiny piggies are bound to get bigger. I'm sure you'll outgrow your first request of the morning, which is for me to carry your stuffed animals downstairs in the pockets of my robe. And your smoochable belly won't always look like you swallowed a canteloupe whole.

But your Daddy and I delight to think that we're just beginning to see glimpses of the little person the Lord has made in you. And I'm sure not a day will go by, as not one has since you were born, without us marveling at the blessing God has given us when He added you to our family.

Sea World---ever the adventure

2008-12-09T07:19:00.000-08:00

Sunday morning started out in a pretty non-adventurous way. My hubby was too sick to go to church, and I wasn't sure I could brave it alone with 3 kids, so we all decided to stay home. My 3 yo son woke up saying he didn't feel well (or "peel well", in his f-less vocabulary), and didn't eat much breakfast, but I didn't think much of it.

And then it hit me: if I left a sleeping baby home with a sleeping sick Daddy, I could sneak the "older" two off to Sea World! Our season passes are about to expire, and they were offering some free giveaways to pass holders this weekend. We could have our last hoorah before the month just kept getting busier. Sounded like a great plan. I packed our lunches, snacks, and stroller, and we were off!

We had not gotten ten minutes from home when my son decided to start vomiting. I'm on a major highway, so I hand him some napkins and assure him that Mommy is going to pull over and help him. It was about this time that my daughter starts gagging and saying she's very grossed out. Aren't exits usually really close together? Why the heck was this next one 87 miles down the road?!? Ah, there it is. We turn into a Krispy Kreme parking lot, and I pull into a spot as far from other humans as possible. I fling open all the van doors for fresh air, and direct the queasy daughter to roam about the grass and try not to think about being grossed out. I go around to my son's side, only to discover that someone has discarded a baby wipe, full of its revolting contents, right where I needed to put my feet. Should I re-park? Na, we were out of the van with all the doors open, and moving would take too much time. (I'll spare you the suspense: with stories like this, you would assume I stepped on the poop, but with some fancy footwork and repeated warnings to my daughter, we managed to avoid it.)

I stripped my son of his soiled shirt, wiped everything down with wipees and napkins (note to self: always keep a roll of paper towels and a towel in the van!), and told the kids we needed to head back home. "No! Can we please still go?" Even the sick one was fully on board with proceeding with Plan A. Sigh. Think, Stephanie. Ok, are there any extra clothes in the van? Oooh! A bag of hand-me-downs in the trunk! Dig, dig...rats. It's only girl clothes. Hmmm...too girly for my son to wear for a few hours? After all, they're just flowers and ruffles. No, that would be cruel.

Aha! His sweater! If I zip it all the way up, no one will no there's no shirt under it, right? Right! Ok, so on it goes, and we get back in and continue on our way. I keep asking Buddy Boy if his tummy hurts, and he keeps assuring me it does not. (Note to self: never trust a three year old with ulterior motives.)

(Additional note to self: kids never throw up just once.) We had not been out of the parking lot for 60 full seconds when Round 2 began. (Note to readers: if you will kindly recall that Mommy is still not out of the nausea/vomiting stage of pregnancy herself, it will add to the drama of the story.)

Now at this point, Stephanie-mother-of-one child would have definitely gone home in tears. Stephanie-mother-of-two children would have probably gone home to at least get a change of clothes, then would have decided it was best to stay put and call off the outing. But let me tell you, Stephanie-mother-of-almost-four was going to see whales today if it killed her, gosh darn it. If the sick child insists that he can handle Sea World, then by golly, so can I. It's all outdoors, anyway, so it would be way more fun to throw up there than at home, right?

(Yet another note to self: when a child is throwing up, it's best to leave them undressed until you arrive at your destination so you can preserve any clean clothes you may have.) Exactly. His sweater now had his breakfast on it, too, so we're back to square one on the clothing issue. Could he go into Sea World with no shirt? Wrapped in a blanket, maybe? Oh wait...that had gotten vomit on it, too.

Fast forward a little. We were able to use a jacket of Emma's (that was blue!), rinse out the blanket in a sink at Sea World and let it dry throughout the day, and we had one of our best Sea World excursions to date.

The weather was absolutely perfect (69 degrees, sunny and clear with a nice breeze), there were no crowds at all compared to summertime, we got to pet the dolphins more than ever before, and when the day was done we'd seen three shows and all the animal exhibits. WAY more than I can usually accomplish in that amount of time when fighting the summer crowd and trying to ignore the extreme heat. And Buddy Boy? He got his appetite back within a couple of hours and didn't get sick once while we were there. And we came home to a Daddy and baby who'd had a wonderful day together, as well.

All's well that end's well, right?

Here's one of our little flippered friends that we got to spend a lot of time playing with:

Happy 6th Birthday, Emma!

2008-11-20T12:30:00.000-08:00

This beautiful little girl is our firstborn, Emma. Six years ago today, she officially made me a mother, and she's been a blessing to us ever since.

Emma's personality is quite different from mine, which caught me off guard at times during her first few years. I think most mommies assume that they will see a little mini-me in their daughter. But the more I come to learn of who God made her, the more I appreciate and enjoy her as a person, often because of how different we are. She's a delight to be around, and I tell her regularly that I could not be without her, for more reasons than one!

She is an animal lover, and I can't express what an understatement that is. It would be more appropriate to say that her world revolves around dogs and horses. But pretty much any animal will do in a pinch. She's good with them, unafraid and seemingly a natural at things like feeding and caring for them. And they sense it in her and gravitate toward her. I see animal husbandry of some sort in her future.

She also loves singing, being read to, playing outside in our yard, riding her bike or scooter, drawing, stuffed animals, meticulously tucking things in, having "girls' day out" with me, spending time with all of her grandparents, hot chocolate, baking with me, helping her Daddy in the yard, the zoo, Sea World, giggling with her brother for hours at night when they're supposed to be sleeping, Play-doh, Family Movie Night, swimming, doing gymnastics, and running very fast.

She dislikes: clothing on stuffed animals, ultra-girly things like brushing hair, going to any type of doctor, and bugs of all shapes and sizes (except roly polies).

Emma's our "old soul", who takes things quite seriously and thinks about things beyond her years, with a vocabulary to match. But she's also quite the little girl, carefree and playful and loving her own imaginary world. And she insists that she doesn't want to get married because she wants to live with "her best Mommy and Daddy" forever. We'll take it! :)

We love you, Emma, and are so blessed to have you for our little girl.

*************************************

We'll be doing more celebrating this week as grandparents join us for Thanksgiving, but this past weekend we did do a few fun things.

Our kids were invited to a Build-a-Bear party. Here they are bathing their new friends:

Then we let them play on some of the rides. Would you believe I've gotten away with never putting money in these machines for all these years? I'd just let my kids sit on them, and have them get their thrills by pretending that the bull was riding, or the car was driving. I know...mean mommy. This seemed like a worthy occassion for blowing our cover, though. ;)

Here's Emma on her first carousel ride:

And here's her sister looking quite stunned by the experience (she actually loved it but I caught her by surprise):

Their brother opted for the wilder motorcycle ride:

More birthday and Thanksgiving fun to come!

An undesired "vacation"

2008-11-19T12:01:00.000-08:00

The last 5 1/2 weeks have been very different. This pregnancy has me in a non-functional state moreso than any of the other pregnancies, and I've been realizing lately just how little I've done since I started getting sick. For instance,

Things I have NOT done in the last 5 1/2 weeks:

*Cooked a meal

*Done a load of laundry

*Menu planned or grocery shopped

*Washed a load of dishes

*Taken a complete shower without having to cut it short to be sick

*Read my Bible (or any other book, for that matter)

*Completed a full homeschool lesson with my daughter

*Kept on top of paying bills on time (yes, with frustrating consequences)

*Enjoyed food of any sort (and those who know me well know that this may be the hardest blow of all!)

*Gone to church...and I miss everyone

Things I HAVE done over the last 5 1/2 weeks:

*"Tossed the cookies" upwards of 300 times

*Begged the Lord to make it stop

*Begged my husband to make it stop

*Spent many days literally going from my bed to the bathroom and back, all day

*Slept an average of 12 hours a night (one way to make the days feel slightly shorter)

*Developed a new level of gratitude for family and friends who have graciously stepped in with help---bringing meals, watching my kids, and encouraging me in general

*Increased my love and appreciation for my husband, who is having to sacrifice in a very real way this pregnancy. After long days of physical work, he's come home to do all my jobs as well. Not only has he taken on full care of the children, but he's done a marvelous job keeping up with our home (far better than I do!). And he's also helped my mental state by organizing parts of our home that I never thought would be done, like the garage, the office, and more. Once everything is perfect around here, I'll stop faking my sickness. :)

Anyway, I'm not sure of all that the Lord is trying to teach me during this difficult phase, but I do know that He has given me a season to slow down, like it or not. It's hard for this list-making, task-oriented person to let my life completely stop, but I've had no choice. And it's amazing to see at what a basic level we can actually function. Many of the daily things that I thought were non-negotiable have become impossible to do, and I'm seeing that for a time, we can still survive without them.

And for those of you who have stepped in to make this time more bearable for us, I thank you so much. You are the reasons my children have neither starved nor maimed each other out of boredom. Maybe we'll name the baby after you.

Too good to be true

2008-11-11T18:15:00.001-08:00

It's really not that I think people enjoy reading about vomiting, but I HAVE to let the world know that it is 8:15 p.m., and I have NOT thrown up a single time today! For the last four weeks, I've been getting sick about 15-20 times a day, so this is monumental news. I know the night is not over, but I may be willing to go to bed in a few minutes just to close the day out while I'm way ahead.

So why the sudden sickness drop off? Well, lots and lots of prayers being answered, first of all. Secondly, I can't help but think it has much to do with the fact that some dear friends of ours have taken our children to their home for three days. I have had almost two full days of no one needing anything from me, no need to get up at any time, pretty much no responsibilities whatsoever. I got out of bed at 11 this morning, and have kept a very relaxed pace all day. Because I didn't have to worry about getting everyone ready, I was able to leave the house and just stroll around a few stores for several hours, which was a wonderful distraction.

I also think the Lord knew that my frail, whiny frame had simply had enough. I hadn't kept any food down in days (and hadn't had much time to even try to get any down between "episodes"), was losing weight at an alarming rate, and felt like I was teetering on the brink of needing to get myself some extra medical attention. Lest anyone think I've been handling this sickness with grace and patience, I assure you that I unfortunately have not. Daily I moan to my husband about the sheer agony of it all, whine that I can't take it anymore, and beg him to put me out of my misery. (The smart man wouldn't dare do such a thing after running the show alone for the last month.) I cry about it, writhe around in a nauseated heap on the bed, and don't dare look at myself in the mirror.

BUT today...ahh, today. Today I've had a reprieve, and while I don't expect it to last, I have been thanking the Lord profusely for the glimmer of hope. Today has been a reminder that this, indeed, will come to an end, and that there is a baby being knit in my womb. "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name!"

**Update: Well, there was one horrid episode around 10 p.m. that I couldn't avoid. But still, I'll take that any day over the usual!**

Pregnancy and the holidays

2008-11-06T11:50:00.000-08:00

This weekend will mark four weeks of me being sick, and that fact alone is helping my spirits improve. Because no matter what remedies I try, time is really the only thing that helps me get past this horrible sick phase. I probably have another month or so to go, if other pregnancies are any indication, but even knowing that I may be entering the second half gives me hope. The days are still very hard, and sometimes time drags ever so slowly, but each passing day is one less that I have to be sick.

And I'm also hopeful that when I emerge from this vomitous fog, the holidays will be upon us, and perhaps I can enjoy them! Thanksgiving will be cutting it close, but I'm hopeful that I'll at least be less sick than I am now.

My oldest had a great line the other night. We were in our van heading home, and she started getting excited about Christmas. She said, "Oh, I can't wait! It's almost time for baking cookies, and then we get to have eggnog and decorate our tree and listen to Christmas music." And then, after a pause, as if dragging out something that's vaguely in her memory bank, she added, "And do we sometimes get presents at Christmas, too?"

It was very sweet to know that our attempts to downplay the commercialism at Christmas are working so far. It's all about the memories of things we do as a family to the little ones, isn't it?

Pining for the Pineywoods

2008-11-02T14:41:00.001-08:00

I was supposed to wake up to this view today...

This is what it looks like at the Pineywoods Family Retreat that our church goes on each fall, where we do a lot of canoeing, some hiking, a little dancing, lots of delicious eating (of food we don't have to prepare ourselves), and a whole lot of just chillin' as a family. It's wonderful, and something my kids talk about all year long.

Well, this year Mommy just had to be a spoilsport and decide that a 6-hour van ride and a shared bathroom were most likely not going to work out so well under current conditions.

So last year's memories will have to last one more year...

...and Lord willing, there will be six Greens in attendance next Fall. Are the pre-registration forms for 2009 out yet?

A quick update

2008-10-30T12:08:00.001-07:00

Well, the happy news is that I had a good doctor's appointment on Monday. Due to my miscarriage history, I requested an early sonogram to be able to see a heartbeat---and there it was! Nice and strong, with a tiny white spot on the screen that is my baby. What precious reassurance.

Not that the incessant vomiting wasn't indication enough that some being is wreaking havoc with my innards right now. But still, it never hurts to be reminded that I'm puking with a purpose.

I'm 7 1/2 weeks along now. My spirits are definitely better than they were a week ago, in part because this week has been less physically traumatic, and in part because I know I have a week less to be sick than I did then. I'm thankful for the life that is within me, and will be even more thankful when I can enjoy being pregnant from somewhere other than my bathroom. :)

Words from the Garfields

2008-10-25T15:35:00.000-07:00

From the big Garfield, in response to me looking in the mirror (reluctantly) and commenting on how I look like death warmed over after vomiting for a week straight. His reply? "Na, just death heated to a gentle, rolling simmer, but not warmed over." Thanks a lot, dear.

From the little Garfield, who was my lucky companion as I braved a trip to Taco Cabana. Crispy tacos sounded like they may agree with me, but I knew I wouldn't make it all the way through the drive-thru without being sick. So I pulled over to an obscure part of the parking lot with a grassy area first, and told Buddy Boy that I'd be back in to get him a taco in a minute. I faced away from him, wondering how scarred he'd be by watching me be sick. But what did he say when I got back in the van? "Mommy, why were you looking for tacos in the grass?" Good---completely clueless!

Just for the record...

2008-10-22T12:47:00.000-07:00

...I would gladly endure unmedicated natural childbirth two or three times over per baby if I could trade that for a guaranteed nausea/vomiting-free pregnancy. Just so you know.

Not contagious

2008-10-21T16:15:00.000-07:00

A quote from a conversation with my 5.5 yo daughter, Emma, who was trying to usurp my chocolate milkshake from Whataburger:

Emma: "Mommy, can't I just slurp straight from your cup?"

Me: "No, Honey. I'll share with you guys, but I'm going to put it in another cup so we're not all sharing germs."

Emma: "But why, Mommy? I can't get a baby in my belly from drinking from your straw, can I?"

Humor amidst the grossness

2008-10-20T09:26:00.000-07:00

Day 3 of pregnancy sickness. (Not including the week prior to that, in which I was nauseous but not throwing up yet.) Just 50 or so more days to go. Ugh.

It's 11:27 a.m., and I'm finally emerging from my bedroom. I've been scooting back and forth in a little path between my bed and the bathroom and back, but so far hadn't left my room.

But I was very blessed when I finally did so. My sweet husband has been bustling around all morning, apparently cleaning the downstairs, which desperately needed it. He's got all the windows open letting in some lovely fresh air, and the kids are so hilariously "helping" him.

My almost 6 yo keeps sweetly bringing me things that may or may not sound repulsive to eat/drink, and the younger two got into a pile of clothing that was being sorted in the living room before I got sick. They are quite the sight. My 3yo son is wearing some WAY too small bright green and orange jammies with lizards all over, that he must've literally poured himself into. The legs go down barely past his knees, and his belly's popping out. And my 1.5 yo daughter is even more hilarious, wearing a tiny little bathing suit on her cute chubby body---backwards. She's staggering around in it like a little beauty queen, unaware that she looks like some sort of wrestler with wispy hair.

So I've had my laugh for the day. Which is quite the accomplishment when you feel the way I do. Now, if I can only hold out long enough to last through a way overdue shower...

A drastic attempt to regain my readers: some good news

2008-10-16T18:52:00.000-07:00

Gasoline by our house is now at $2.43 a gallon!! Yippee!

Oh, and there's also this little tidbit of news:

Walk for Life

2008-10-11T21:17:00.000-07:00

Next Saturday, our family will be participating in a Walk for Life to support the local Agape Pregnancy Help Center. It is a Christian organization that serves to minister to women who are considering an abortion through counseling, sonograms, provision of baby items, and more. They also provide post-abortion conseling for the women who are dealing with the trauma of this decision.

We are proud to support them, and will be walking two miles to raise money towards the Center. Even our kids will be part of it, with nice views from the strollers.

If you'd like to give any amount of money towards sponsoring our family, we'd greatly appreciate it! Our goal is to raise at least $200, and so far we're at $120. It's a set pledge, rather than a per mile donation. Please let me know in the comments section, or via email, if you're interested in supporting the Agape Center. Hopefully I can post pictures in about a week!

Careful not to bump into me...you might knock off one of my hats.

2008-09-30T14:25:00.000-07:00

I'm wearing quite a few hats lately. In addition to the regular wife hat, mother hat, and MOPS hat (Mothers of Preschoolers, where I serve in a leadership position), I've recently acquired a couple more. Don't worry, though---they've replaced my "housekeeper hat", which seems to have fallen off a few months ago.

Garfield has asked me to become his official office manager for Texas Greenscapes, a position I've desired for a long time. He's handed over the bookkeeping, as well as the bidding and budgeting. I'm giddy. This kind of stuff floats my boat, and if it will relieve him of wearing far too many hats, then I'm honored to be able to help him in this way. It's now kind of starting to feel like an actual job at times, especially as I realize how many hours I'm logging, but I think that's because we're still working out our systems. Overall, it's a blessing to both of us.

And after four years since taking off my Pampered Chef hat, I've recently started that up again, too! I'm approaching it with a totally different perspective this time--as a mom of three who wouldn't be able to take herself seriously if she tried--so I think it will be a good thing for our family. It started back up because my cousins convinced me that I just had to do one of their bridal showers, and I caved. Yeah, I'm weak like that. So now I'm refreshing my memory on how it all works, and excited about all the new products they've released since I last was a consultant. I'll be focusing on catalog shows, with a few live kitchen shows every now and then.

My "homeschooling mommy" hat is a bit wobbly at times as I find my feet, but that's starting to come along, as well.

The Lord has been gracious to show me a few hats that I just needed to fling for now, to make room for what He has for me in this season. I wish the clown hat was one of them, but I'm afraid that one's here to stay.

Our shower---before and after

2008-09-25T20:26:00.000-07:00

We've had a couple of leaks in our house, which have shown me some of the interesting ways God provides gifts for His children. The first leak, which was in our downstairs bathroom, enabled us to replace our linoleum flooring with much nicer wood laminate due to insurance money. (Because my handy hubby was able to provide the labor.)

This last leak wasn't really a big deal, but it did involve tearing down the shower tiles. So again my handy husband stepped in, used his birthday money, and transformed this:

Into this:

We used Home Depot gift cards to buy tiles for next to nothing on clearance, and Garfield did all the labor. So now, for no money out-of-pocket, I feel like I'm showering in a fancy-schmancy hotel shower or something!

(I should add here that our master shower had been out of commission for about 7 months while we waited for the time and money to repair it. So after all of us--including house guests at times--used our kids' shower for that long, it made us especially grateful to have our own shower again...a luxury, but certainly not the necessity we once thought it to be.)

"Hello?" (tap, tap) "Is this thing on?"

2008-09-23T22:11:00.000-07:00

I once went on a Silent Retreat in college---a weekend away with girlfriends where everyone is commited to complete silence the entire time. No talking, no music, no noisy movements. Just time away, in silence, to read, pray, journal, and the like. It was so incredibly hard at first. We were all a bunch of gabbers. But what we found so strange is that when we drove back into town and it was all coming to an end, no one wanted to break the silence. It was the realization that suddenly, anything we had to say seemed trivial and not worthy of ending the mental and spiritual journey we'd just been on. Words somehow seemed far more weighty.

I say this to explain why I've avoided blogging for the past six weeks (other than my son's birthday post, which I'd have felt guilty about leaving out). When so much has happened, and none of it has been recorded, I felt some sort of imaginary pressure to break the silence with something worthwhile.

This is not that something.

I'm merely breaking the silence to relieve myself of having to come up with something monumental to blog about. Ahhhh....that's much better already. Now the mental block is dissolved, and I can start posting again!

Let me assure you, you really wouldn't have wanted me to post in August anyway (which I am not-so-affectionately referring to as "Ugh-ust"). We had some major weeds and pests creep into the Greenhouse, figuratively speaking, and anything that would've come from my head during that time period would've been ugly. Very, very ugly.

But the Lord has been gracious to see us through, and we're starting to see some rays of hope piercing through the dark clouds. So I hope you'll still do me the honor of popping in now and then!

My Buddy Boy's 3!!

2008-09-08T20:23:00.001-07:00

Happy birthday to our little guy today!

He's our irresistable charmer whose smile is way too endearing. He speaks in run-on, run-on, run-on paragraphs, is extremely eclectic in his little packrat collections, and has recently taken a crushing blow upon finding out that dinosaurs are extinct. He has a tenderness towards all things baby that is uncharacteristic of most boys his age, and loves rocks, tractors, and books. His current noun of choice is "water buffalo". As in, "Hey! That looks kinda like the color of a water buffalo!" or "My sandwich is shaped just like a water buffalo." (I have no idea.)

He's gone from "Caution Boy" to "Volume Boy" in just a matter of weeks. (He still isn't too keen on taking risks, but now his volume knob is perpetually stuck on "break sound barrier", so at least he lets all the neighbors know about his hesitations.)

He has very mature taste in music (only Classical will do, and he will tell you so), and loves to sing all the time. He has recently decided to turn bedtime-evading into an art. Or a sport, I'm not sure which. He is our happy-go-lucky guy, and whether he's thrilled or being contrary, he does it with his whole body. Although he's starting to be less free with his affection, he still tells us he loves us many times a day.

We love you, too, Garfield. Very, very much.

Inflammatory Breast Cancer--FYI

2008-08-21T21:49:00.000-07:00

Rather than sending out a bulk email, I've chosen to post this video here for all the women in my life to see. This is too important not to pass on. As they warn at the beginning, it's a little graphic, but necessary knowledge.

A tad bit late, but worth mentioning--our anniversary (updated)

2008-08-16T18:19:00.000-07:00

July 29th was our 8th anniversary.

We revisited a favorite spot of ours, a restaurant we've been going to since before we were married---since before it had been "discovered"---The Vineyards in Garden Ridge. They now hold so many weddings there that it's hard to get a reservation on the night of your choosing. But we were able to secure a spot, and once you're out there, it somehow still has the same secluded feel it's always had.

The actual restaurant is so picturesque. It's a quaint converted farmhouse, complete with squeaky hardwood floors and a cellar down below (that's Garfield's favorite place to be seated, but it's too chilly for the likes of me). My favorite seating is on the enclosed patio with a view out on the vineyards and flower gardens. No matter which floor you dine on, there are no more than a handful of other tables within sight, so you almost feel like you have the place to yourself. (What am I doing...trying to sell the place?! Nevermind all these descriptions...you don't want to go there. Really. It's ugly, the food is repulsive, and you don't want to hog one of the few spots. Don't tell your friends, either.)

Anyway, while we wait for our food, we like to head down to the vineyard and walk around, picking and tasting a few of the grapes that are hanging on the trellises just above our heads. There are cows and goats meandering about, peacefully grazing right beyond the grape vines.

(No, the picture below is of neither a meandering cow nor a goat. But these are some of the flowers I spoke of.)

These last few months haven't been the easiest, but a marriage built upon the unshakable foundation of Christ is worth celebrating. It may not have been our liveliest date conversation, and our hearts were a bit heavy that evening, but there was comfort in sitting across the table from the person we'd been married to for eight years.

Being in that patio room with my husband took me back to times that were sweet. Times when our wedding was yet ahead of us. Times when our future was a rosy, picture-perfect scene from a fairytale. Times like our first anniversary, celebrated in that same room over the same food. Times when the realities of life were still naively tucked away somewhere, waiting to be unfolded bit by bit.

It reminded me that we've been through better, and we've been through worse. (Hmmm...rings awefully familiar to certain vows I recall making.) It reminded me that while I may not always deal gracefully with the circumstances of life, I am still blessed beyond measure by the man God choose for me to experience this life with.

And for that, I am so grateful.

(Update: Just to clarify, Hubby pointed out that the above post could possibly imply that we are experiencing marital strife, but that wasn't what I was referring to when I mentioned difficulties.)

Just for fun, here's a picture of us at the Vineyards on our eighth anniversary a few weeks ago. Below that, if you can see my tiny scanned-in picture, is us in the same exact spot on our FIRST anniversary! If I click on it, it gets bigger. Does that work for you, too? How do you get a scanned in picture to be bigger, by the way?

Transition time---and Mommy's in a puddle

2008-08-10T20:46:00.000-07:00

(They say that when you're behind on something--like a scrapbook or a photo album-- and you decide to try and catch up, you should start with the most recent thing and work backward. I suppose that may work for blogging, too. I need to backtrack, but I'll start with today.)

We just moved my son from his crib into a "big boy" bed. And I'm a mess. I know, I know...an almost three-year-old boy doesn't need to be in a crib anymore. But sometimes these things are so hard on a mama's heart. I can already tell he's on the brink of that big transition that seems to happen at age 3---it's like all of a sudden, any hint of "baby-ness" seems to just disappear. Poof! Suddenly you have a small child on your hands. Not a baby, not a toddler, but a young child.

And while this is so exciting, it can also be tough on sentimental saps like me. I have to sigh every time I notice him saying a word correctly instead of using his cute little mispronunciations. What last week was "muppin" and "dolpin" are now "muffin" and "dolphin". I'm assuming we're also nearing the time of not being able to refer to him as "Diaper-ino" anymore.

Not that our lives are by any means perfect, but I think if given the opportunity, I'd freeze us all at these ages and stay this way for quite some time. Some of you that don't enjoy the baby stage probably think I'm nuts, but despite the rough spots, I love my kids at these ages SO much.

Sure, I do alot of feeding, diapering, and refereeing, but truth be told, I could sit and watch them interact all day long. I'm not sure how it could get much better than this. They really are more fun than a barrel of monkeys.

Going back to my emotional state, it doesn't help that their room is now transformed from what used to be the cutest room of the house to an official disaster area. We're not done putting everything in it's place, and so far, I'm really not used to the change. We got bunk beds for the kids and took out the pretty metal daybed. We also rearranged in an attempt to gain more floor space for playing. The bunks are very nice (a great Craigslist find that we'd been saving for), but they just don't have the same feel as the other bed.

This is what their room looked like before (and the real "after" shots will have to come later, once the room is put back together):

Here they are just climbing in to the bunk beds. Garfield is making "bed angels" in his sheets, which is why his limbs are stretched out like a starfish (it's the closest thing he'll find to snow angels in these parts).

See what I mean? Not nearly as cute of a room...yet. I'll withhold my final judgement until I get things arranged, get some bedding for the bottom bunk, and see the complete room in the sunlight. That always helps. I hope.

But either way, cuteness loses out to practicality in this case. This great bunk also has a trundle underneath, which will be for Elizabeth once she's ready for a big girl bed in about a year (sniff, sniff). So we'll have stackable babies! Three children all taking up the sleeping space of only one twin bed! (She'll soon take over Garfield's crib and "promote" to the kids' room, but we're not quite ready for that kind of partying.)

My work is cut out for me as I try to get things back in order (does everyone else's house seem to explode over the weekend, even when you're not rearranging rooms?).

And if my friends who are sending their grown sons back to college and law school this week are reading this, forgive me for being such a mess over moving my baby to a big boy bed. But we both know I'll be in your shoes in the blink of an eye...and THAT'S what really has a hold of my heart strings.

Straaange things are happenin'---a morning update

2008-07-24T06:22:00.000-07:00

I'm not quite sure what's going on, but I like this new leaf that's been turned over in my life.

Since this whole "get up early" kick started last week, I've been up before my kids every day. I've made exercising a priority, sometimes going before hubby leaves for work, and sometimes going at another time of day. It's unbelieveable how the daily exercise and early rising has helped my attitude and energy. I think I'm developing a very useful addiction to endorphins! And my kids, especially my oldest, seem to really enjoy the change. I know she loves waking up to an alert Mommy.

So what brought all this about in the life of a complete sleep-loving night owl? Well, I suppose it's confession time. I'm just being honest here, people. It was due to a combination of things:

*First of all, I've prayed for years (on and off) that the Lord would make me a morning person. Seriously. Up to this point, He hasn't answered that prayer with an "ok". But I always felt that morning people were somehow more productive and self-disciplined. (And I'm allowed to say that because I'm not one.) Perhaps now He's allowing me to see what I've been missing out on.

*I was getting lazy. Unmotivated. Grouchily rolling out of bed at 9:30 or 10:00 a.m., still feeling sleepy and resentful towards my kids in the morning. (See? I warned you it was confession time!) I hated this about myself.

*My clothes weren't fitting, plain and simple. For someone who *rarely* buys clothes due to generous family and friends who give me hand-me-downs, it's not a good financial move to outgrow my kind donors. :)

*I have this annoying, chronic pain in my leg/hip/Sciatic area that has plagued me for a little over a year. It prevents me from being able to be in a laying down position. Once I'm asleep, it's fine, but I can't just recline without hurting. It seems to be less noticable when I'm regularly exercising, which is huge motivation.

*Like I've mentioned before, I spent most of my days feeling like I was playing catch-up all day, being two steps behind my kids. I really wanted to be more proactive.

*Guilt. Even though my daughter's only 5, she's made it obvious that she doesn't like trying to drag me out of bed. (Who would?) Some evenings when she was going to bed she'd say things like, "Mommy, I hope you don't sleep so late tomorrow morning like you did today." Ouch. The kid doesn't even know how to tell time, so she's only basing those statements on my waking time in relation to hers.

*Another confession: I realized that part of my wanting to sleep late was due to being in a slump. I think I subconciously didn't want my days to be any longer than they had to be. I usually felt overwhelmed in the mornings, so I was putting them off as long as possible. Not good.

*Two weekends ago I read this post on a friend's blog. Then, I went to a meeting where she and some other ladies were singing the praises of waking early to exercise and read their Bible, and it was enough motivation to be a catalyst for me. That next morning is when this all started. Thank you, H.O.P.E. ladies!

I suppose the jury's still out as to how long this will last. I know there will be seasons of life where getting up at 6:00 to exercise or read will simply not be possible. But for now, I'm loving the realization that if I can just get my feet on the floor, even to sleep-walk through going to the bathroom and getting my clothes on, it's so worth it.

Making a "Did Do" List

2008-07-22T20:47:00.000-07:00

I love "To Do" Lists. I find that if I don't start my day with one in place, I wander about semi-productively all day without much of a feeling of accomplishment. In fact, I derive SUCH satisfaction from crossing things off my lists, that I've been known to go back and add things to my list after I've done them, just for the pleasure of seeing another item crossed off. (I'm a crosser-offer, not a checker-offer. There's a difference. Making little checkmarks does nothing for me in comparison to a big ol' line right through the words. But I digress.)

Anyway, as a stay-at-home mom of small children, I think it's especially important to find ways to monitor my days. Otherwise, for me at least, I can do things all day long and not feel like I've done a stinkin' thing. By the late evening, this puts me in "redeem the day" mode, where instead of relaxing, I fritter around trying to figure out which tasks I have the energy for---to make my day end with a productive feeling.

(Now, a little side note: I am in no way saying that loving, feeding, and caring for my children all day isn't enough. And I am blessed with a sweet husband who understands why the house isn't always clean and my tasks aren't always completed. But for MY sanity, sometimes I just need to know that other things were done as well, even if they're small things.)

The other night I was having one of these "redeem the day" evenings. I had a few kinks thrown in my plans throughout the day, and although I didn't have a "to do" list that day, there was much to be done in preparation for upcoming events. So out of curiosity, I made a "Did Do" list---I wrote down all the things I could remember doing that day:

*read to kids for 1 hour and 20 minutes
*sat with and comforted a sick child
*2 loads of laundry
*dishes
*prepared and served 3 meals
*called our weekend guests to make arrangements
*hung a sizeable stack of my kids' clean laundry in their closet
*took a "seize the day" moment to open the door and watch/smell the rain for 30 minutes, explaining to my children what this strange phenomenon was (we hadn't had a hard rain in months!) Also filled buckets with rainwater for watering.
*vacuumed
*swept kitchen

And all this was on a day that I thought I'd done nothing! After seeing the day's events on paper, I was easily able to call it a night.

I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this post, but I thought it might encourage other moms to cut themselves some slack. Tending to the basic needs of a child 24/7 really is a full-time job. Some days are going to be crossed-off-list days, and other days you may as well just crumple up the paper. But as long as the little people are loved-on, the rest, as they say, is just details.

On waking up early

2008-07-16T12:34:00.000-07:00

(This is a follow-up post to yesterday's, so if you haven't read that yet, you may want to scroll down first.)

I'll end the suspense now; I'm sure all of you have been waiting with bated breath to see if I'd wake up early again today. ;) Well, the answer is no. Remember the 17 wild monkeys? I may need to start trying to tame them.

In my defense, I didn't plan to go work out at 6 a.m. again today, thinking alternating days may be a good idea. And I've learned that unless I firmly commit to something ahead of time, it usually doesn't happen. Last night I set my alarm for 6, and said to myself, "Well, maybe I'll try to go again early tomorrow." Recipe for failure. I smacked that alarm off without a second thought. And didn't wake up until 9:00 a.m. (For those of you who don't know, I have late-sleeping kids. The "older" two have been waking up anywhere between 8:30 and 9:30, and the baby usually wakes up at the crack of 11:00.)

But as an encouragement to myself and those who may be morbidly fascinated by the idea of getting up early, I have to make a few observations by way of comparison. I was surprised by a handful of things today:

*I was no less tired today upon getting up at 9:00 than I was after getting up at 6:00 yesterday.

*I assumed that I would crash hard by about 8:00 p.m. last night after getting up so early, but was still able to press through to my normal midnight bedtime without much trouble.

*I woke up grouchy today. Mad at myself for not waking up earlier, frustrated to have to abruptly end my sleep to get my 2-year-old who was (loudly) calling for me, and irritated that even after sleeping late I still felt so completely groggy.

*Yesterday, after working out, I actually was quite peppy from the exercise. And even though my kids woke earlier than usual, I was happier to greet them because I'd already had almost 2 hours to myself.

*Also, even though I had some drowsy parts of the day yesterday, it wasn't any worse than normal. (Will somebody PLEASE find me some amazing vitamins that are small enough for a human being to swallow?)

*I felt way more productive yesterday than I do today, like I was being proactive rather than reactive.

Can you tell I'm trying to psyche myself up to try again? Well, you're on to me. So for those of you who were so proud of me yesterday, I'm sorry to have disappointed you today. But it was for the sake of a little experiment to see which waking time is more satisfying. All in the name of scientific progress.

A little organizational inspiration

2008-07-15T12:01:00.000-07:00

Last night I attended a meeting with a group of ladies that meet once a month to discuss mothering principles that apply to homeschoolers. The meetings are across town from me, so I don't get to attend them all. But the topic of the evening roped me in: "We will be discussing your best idea on organization". How could I resist?

While I wouldn't say any of the ideas shared were brand new to me, I was happy to walk away with some general inspiration on several topics. We discussed meal planning and laundry and touched on cleaning. Since I'm one of the ones in the group with the youngest set of children, several ideas don't apply to me yet. But it's never too early to start training my children to be helpers.

Emma (5 1/2) got alot more of my guidance today as she happily cleared the table, spearheaded the toy cleanup time, made sandwiches with me, served drinks, and helped the younger two. She does these things often, but not regularly enough, due to me forgetting to ask. I'd like to hone some of these skills, along with her other duties, so that they will become second nature. She's in charge of making her bed, watering indoor plants, feeding the dog, and she also helps me Swiffer the kitchen, fold laundry, and clean bathroom counters and mirrors. She and her little brother (2 1/2) do most of the dusting under 4 feet high, and they both LOVE that job.

Now before you assume I'm breaking any child labor laws, let me assure you that we all have fun when we're doing these things together. I usually make Tuesdays our cleaning day, and on Monday nights when I'm putting them to bed, I'll often say, "Tommorrow's cleaning day!", to which I get a "Yaaay!" in response. We play fun music and work together, and it really doesn't seem like much work. Most of what they can help with is done in about an hour.

What I want to make sure I'm doing is to train them while the idea of household duties is still fun. Once they realize not everyone likes that kind of thing, it's much harder to get them on board. I also don't want to make the ever-so-tempting mistake of doing everything myself because it's so much easier and faster. I think that would be ensuring my own demise. I think parents do their children a great disservice when they don't properly teach them to participate in the household duties. So we're in the training period, and while they're not really big enough to lighten my load yet, I have great hope that that time will come a few years down the road.

On another note, I was also inspired to do something I don't believe I've EVER done in my entire life: I woke up at 6:00 a.m. to go straight to the gym. (Screeeeeeech. The world is now going to start spinning on its axis in the opposite direction.) Yes, you read that right. Some of you who are closest to me know that that's equivalent to me taming 17 wild monkeys in a week. It would be no big deal to catch me working out at 11:30 p.m., but 6:00 a.m.? Not I, said the fly.

But it's true. I went and worked out, 'coming to' sometime after I'd been running for 20 minutes or so. I got back home right before 7:00 a.m. when hubby was getting ready to leave, and actaully had time to read my Bible and chill before my kids got up. It's too early to tell if this is the beginning of a new trend for me, but it certainly was a good experience. To those of you at the meeting last night who sang the praises of waking up early, thanks for the nudge.

I may need another nudge next week, and the week after, and the week after...

4th of July weekend

2008-07-09T14:08:00.001-07:00

We spent the last six days in the Ft. Worth area with my in-laws. Let me tell you, "real" vacations (somewhere other than visiting family) with small children are overrated. We love being able to put the kids down for naps just a few steps away while still being able to slip off for some adult swim time. (Having extra help with the kids and free food and lodging are nice, too!) And it's hard to beat their black-bottom swimming pool, with it's tropical lagoon feel. The pictures don't let you hear the windchimes and trickling waterfall or feel the breeze, so you'll just have to use your imagination.

Garfield's getting plenty of free rides on his "boat". (Hubby would want me to make sure and mention that he's not really that white--it's just the sun reflecting off his chest.) :)

Emma spent time pulling us around like a tugboat on our rafts. Here she is bravely jumping off the waterfall.
Garfield decided not to be outdone, so he tried the waterfall jump, too, while yelling, "Geromino!" This was quite a feat for our "Caution Boy". Before this trip, his idea of being brave around water was sitting on the edge within splashing distance.

After his brave jumps, he figured he was too cool for the rest of us.

And Elizabeth...well, could she BE any cuter?
We also got to celebrate my mother-in-law's birthday, which is today. Happy birthday, Mom!

And no visit would be complete without one of Papa Del's famous gourmet meals. He made Stuffed Chicken with Mozarella and sun-dried tomatoes, along with Angel Hair pasta in a garlic and red pepper sauce. I'm STILL salivating just thinking about it!

So now we're back... rested, tan, and pleased with how well our trip went. The Lord graciously gave us perfect swimming weather the entire time (while it dumped buckets here in San Antonio). We all miss Beford already, but at the same time I think we're ready to get back to things around here. The kids seemed extra happy playing with their toys today, and while Daddy catches up on work, I'm preparing for another fun weekend of our church's conference and talent show!

Sea World 101

2008-06-25T21:52:00.001-07:00

Lessons I learned today, upon taking three children ages five and under to Sea World by myself:

1. I'm obviously insane. If there was any doubt before, it's now been confirmed.

2. Even the most comfortable shoes will give you blisters after several hours of walking around in them.

3. Carrying a baby and a preschooler down steep, wet concrete stairs while laden with a full backpack is a very precarious thing. Climbing back up the same stairs with the same load is no easier.

4. When the seats say "Splash Zone", it's not false advertising.

5. The splash of a mammoth killer whale is not the same as that of a family member playing with you in the pool or bathtub.

6. Young children are painfully unaware of lesson #5.

7. The aforementioned young children may THINK they want to be splashed by a whale, until it actually happens, at which point they are likely to burst into tears and be tremendously insulted.

8. Third children are remarkably resiliant, and will take to whale splashes much better than their older siblings.

9. If the sign says "Sea Lion Interaction Area", it IS false advertising. It instead should read, "Area where Sea Lions lazily nap and occasionally yawn while onlookers gaze upon them from 25 feet away".

10. When you walk at Sea World, especially when pushing a double stroller with three children piled in, it will be uphill nomatter which direction you head.

11. If anyone ever compares you to a walrus in any way, be assured, it is not a compliment.

12. Despite all the above lessons, memories were made and fun was had, and I'm sure we'll do it again soon. Confused? For further explanation, refer to Lesson #1.

Emma, Garfield, and Elizabeth a few minutes after their first Splash Zone experience. By this point, the crying had stopped and there remained only a slight hint of their stunned expressions.

Forget the toys...we've got a BOX!

2008-06-20T15:52:00.000-07:00

Ever since the day we got this toybox (probably over a year ago?), I wondered how long it would take them to figure out that they fit inside it. Waaaay longer than I thought, but it was a pleasing discovery, indeed.

Love one another with brotherly (sisterly) love...

2008-06-20T15:45:00.000-07:00

All the poor little thing knows is kisses! She gets them constantly, so naturally she thinks it's just what you do.

Her brother actually likes the affection and returns it willingly, despite the look on his face in these pictures.

Tips for saving money on gas

2008-06-12T14:33:00.000-07:00

Other than the obvious methods of being extremely selective about where I go and combining trips, I've recently employed a few other tactics in an attempt to save at the pump:

1. Gas up as often as possible. Seems counter-intuitive, but with prices steadily increasing, rather than ebbing and flowing as they used to, it only makes sense that tomorrow your gallons will cost more than they do today. I used to gas up when I was down to half a tank, but now I literally gas up almost every time I pass my favorite station (which has lower prices than the others). Sometimes that means only putting in $10, but waiting two more days would've cost me at least another dollar or two for that same amount.

2. I'm now a big fan of hypermiling, after watching this video. It's a driving technique that takes just a wee bit of practice, but within minutes of experimenting, I realized how many times I was unnecessarily pushing my gas pedal. Now I realize just how much I can coast if I'm conscious of my tactics, therefore greatly increasing my mileage per gallon.

3. And for those of you who, like me, keep saying, "I just wish there was something I could DO about these ridiculous price hikes!", there is. Here's a quick petition to sign, sponsored by the American Family Association. They are reputable and effective. Take 60 seconds to enter your address, sign it, and then pass it along to everyone you know!

I remember when gas here was .99/gallon---just 6 1/2 years ago! We've all topped $4/gallon now, with no signs of relief. It's time for us to reevaluate our driving even more, stop providing such high demand for gasoline, and put our foot down! Just not on the gas pedal...

If you need to find us during the next 90 days...

2008-06-03T16:59:00.001-07:00

...start by looking here:

It's 10 feet by 10 feet---the perfect size for all five of us to hop in and cool off, yet shallow enough to keep me from being too panicked about the kids. And as you can tell, Elizabeth doesn't think her setup is comfy at all.

It had to be done.

2008-06-03T14:23:00.001-07:00

I don't know how I've avoided it for so long. (Having to buy a new bathing suit, that is.) Well, actually I do. Last summer I just wore the old one, and the summer before that I wore the cute maternity one. And the summer before THAT I wore the cute maternity one. And the summer before that I wore the one that I probably bought that year. Since I'm not going 3 for 3 on having summer pregnancies, and the elastic on the old one has seen better days, I had to face the music and go shopping for a bathing suit.

Now, I'm not much of a shopper to begin with, but c'mon ladies. Let's all agree that swimsuit shopping has to be slightly less pleasant than snake handling. If the snakes are venomous, then it's slightly more pleasant than snake handling. But just by a tad. You've gone all fall, winter, and spring happily going about your business when BAM! Suddenly you have to uncover your cellulite to the world.

Then there are the other annoyances:

You have to avoid the stores that seem to think that the only women who would possibly want to wear a one-piece a.) are over the age of 80, or b.) weigh more than 450 pounds. Since I don't fit either of those categories, that eliminates quite a few stores.

There are other process of elimination factors:

I don't want to spend a small fortune. That's 20% fewer to choose from.

I won't wear a bikini for modesty reasons. I don't care for prancing around in public in my bra and panties, and bikinis are no different. (Although socially acceptable.) There goes a whopping 70% of my options.

I have birthed three children. That eliminates another 10% of the choices.

I have nursed all three of the aforementioned children. Hence, another 10% of the choices are not flattering.

You math whizzes may have figured out that that equals more than 100%. My point exactly. The number of flattering bathing suits available for frugal, modest young mothers seem to be less than zero.

But alas, I did come home with one, merely to avoid admitting defeat. Besides, that would just mean having to go bathing suit shopping AGAIN, and I have important snakes to attend to, thank you very much!

On turning 30

2008-05-25T00:30:00.000-07:00

I don't by any means think that 30 is old, not by a loooonnng shot. So it's not that. In fact, in alot of ways it seems like 30 is when you finally feel like a real grown-up. But it's strange how decade birthdays loom out there, isn't it? I mean, I'm only one day older than I was yesterday, but for some reason it sounds ten years older.

My twenties were very transitional, all the way through. From college, into marriage, through various job changes for my husband, to becoming a mother, through financially trying times, through familial issues, through having back-to-back babies, and then some. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. There were some life highlights in there for sure, and there was also a chunk of time Garfield and I refer to as "the dark years". I hope at the time we didn't let on just how down and out we really felt. But all in all, it was a good decade.

Call me crazy, but I expect my thirties to be far better. I'm not saying we won't have transition or hard times; that's just life. But I do look forward to some wonderful times. Our family is growing and taking shape, and we see the Lord's blessings in abundance through our children. We also see why He squeezed us so hard in order to get Garfield to start this business. We would have never taken the risk if we weren't desperate and had nothing to lose, but in retrospect, it is just where we needed to head. We also have found such joy in our church family after years of searching around in the spiritual desert. I am about as happy right now as I ever remember being.

I'll confess: it feels strange. After years of trial after trial, the calmness leaves me a bit uneasy at times. It's like I'm waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop, I suppose. I look at our life today, which is so markedly different from our life a few years (or even a few months) ago, and I'm incredulous.

So I feel as though I'm teetering on a precipice. Looking back, I see bumpy terrain. There are patches of beautiful oases with sparkling water and lush gardens, and there are expanses of dry and bleak desert. As I wobble, about to let myself fall forward into a new decade of life, I'm really not sure what lies ahead. There's a veil of misty fog keeping it a surprise. But the Lord is good, and His promises are true. So I'm going to fall, and I expect He's prepared the perfect landing place.

Go ahead---ask me how old I am.

2008-05-24T12:28:00.000-07:00

29!

Ask me again.

29!!

You wanna know how old I am?

29!

But don't ask after tomorrow...it's rude to ask an old woman her age. ;)

What do you mean, you don't think she's ferocious?

2008-05-20T12:13:00.001-07:00

Well, since you can't hear her growl, just check out these teeth!

It's dangerous around these here parts, I tell ya!

Eight years ago today...

2008-05-13T13:27:00.001-07:00

...I graduated from Baylor University. You'll probably have to click on the picture to see it closely, and even then it seems to have gotten a bit damaged. But if you look closely at my eyes, you'll see that I'd been bawling like a baby. And that cry session paled in comparison to the one I had on the day I actually moved out of our apartment and left Waco for good.

Why all the tears on what should've been a happy occasion? Well, because it was closing the door on what at that point had been some of the happiest years of my life. Even then, although I very much looked forward to the joy that I hoped would come with marriage and children, I recognized that those four years were so incredibly sweet, and so very unique. I'd met my future husband and fallen in love during that time, and I met some precious girls who I'm convinced will remain my lifelong friends. The "Baylor Bubble" that we lived in had to pop that day.

My time there was a true gift from God. Without my full scholarship, I would have never been able to attend Baylor, and I know it was an answer to my parents' prayers as much as it was to mine.

On May 13, 2000, when I walked across the stage and prepared to say good-bye to my dear roommates and friends, I also knew that my childhood was ending. Admitedly, I suppose it should've ended earlier than age 21, but I still felt very much like a child until I left school and got married. I knew I was still under my parents' care, although away from home, and my responsibilites (though they sometimes felt burdensome at the time) were very light.

So every May 13th since then, I've looked back with such bittersweet sentiment upon the day that symbolized everything changing in my life. It ranks right up there with the day I graduated from high school, the day I got married, and the day I became a mother. And to my dear Baylor friends who I know will read this, I'm thinking of all of you today, and thanking the Lord for our time together that He blessed us with. I will always treasure it in my heart.

(The picture is me with my roomies Katie, Giselle, and Jen. I also want to cyber-wave to Sarah, Shelley, and Amy, who graduated the same year, and to Cathryn, my younger Baylor bud.)

List-less

2008-05-06T13:43:00.000-07:00

I grocery shop with a list. That's actually an understatement. While at Baylor, I took a class called "Meal Management" (which was totally not in my major course of study---ironic, considering my life now) and learned the art of meal planning and grocery-list making using categories. It's wonderful; I've used the same system for 7 1/2 years, and I've never been tempted to change my tactic.

However, my Wal-Mart run is a totally different story. Since Wal-Mart is my destination of choice for diapers and other miscellaneous non-food items, I usually only need to buy 2-5 things when I shop there. So I don't really need a list. Or so I tell myself, which usually turns out to be a gross overestimation of my memory capabilities. More often than not, I end up aimlessly wandering the aisles, mentally berating myself for not actually writing out a list before I entered the store. It's funny how even when I'm sitting in the van about to enter the store, I can perfectly recall all the things on my mental list, but as soon as I enter "Stuff-Mart", my plan evaporates out my ears. Does that happen to any of you?

So anyway, last night was a perfect case in point. I made my late-night run in order that my two-year-old son would not have to squeeze into his baby sister's diapers today. I needed five other items besides diapers. I was successful in remembering two of them. Oh, and one other that I thought may have been on my list. So I stop, mid-aisle, on numerous occasions, "zoning" into outer space, trying to recall the other items on my list. More than once I was asked by a salesperson if I needed help finding anything ("yes, my brain, please"), so I know I must've looked pretty goofy and probably was even muttering to myself.

I still don't remember what those other items were that I was supposed to buy, but I did end up coming home with a large bag of Dark Chocolate M&M's and a sizeable bucket of On the Border Margarita Mix---just add Tequila---both of which were definitely NOT on my list. But I suppose they should've been, because my hubby is certainly going to make sure I continue to go to Wal-Mart without a list. It's much more fun that way.

I scream, you scream....

2008-05-01T13:07:00.000-07:00

Last night was 31-cent Scoop night at Baskin Robbins. Daddy had a church meeting, so crazy Mommy thinks to herself that this would be a great way to pass the time on our evening alone. Crazy Mommy even went so far as to tell her children ahead of time what her intentions were, which is a huge no-no in Crazy Mommy's book. (You should never, never tell small children where you're going until you're pulling up in the parking lot. Not while you're getting them ready, and not while you're loading the vehicle, and definitely not the night before. Otherwise, disaster is bound to strike, and you're left having to come up with a backup plan on the spot. No, better to just have them live out the "ignorance is bliss" plan, and be pleasantly surprised if and when things actually work out as planned.)

So anyway, back to the ice cream story. We go grab a bite to eat, and everyone is in a lovely mood. Crazy Mommy's happy to not have to cook, and the children are happy to be out of the house. A small hiccup occurs when Crazy Mommy realizes she HAS to use the restroom, but has no one to watch the three small children. So Crazy Mommy declares a "Potty Party", and she and her entourage (including one in a stroller) overtake the handicapped stall. Yes, four people and a stroller fit in there, thank God. Crazy Mommy is relieved (take that however you want to), and the children are now singing about their Potty Party. We are off to the races.

After two other minor pitstops (Crazy Mommy is notorious for thinking she can accomplish way too much), the small herd arrives on the scene at Baskin Robbins. But wait...what's this? Why is there a mob outside the building? Oh, never mind. That's not a mob at all. It's actually the line, which snakes out the store, across the front of two stores, and into the nearby parking lot. (Do you see now why not telling the children ahead of time would've been extremely wise? Instant change in plans, no harm done.) But Crazy Mommy figures what the heck? The weather's nice, we've got time to kill, and 31-cent scoops of ice cream at Baskin Robbins is worth a bit of a wait.

So we find our way to the end of the line. As it turns out, who should be in front of us but the world's most obnoxious/hyper kid, who promptly announces to us that "our baby's eyes look weird". (They're BLUE, kid. Ever seen blue eyes?) He is sort of freakily entertaining my oldest daughter, who was a combination of confused and scared about his behavior. His mother, who is evidently the one who passed on the ADHD gene, proceeds to tell us no fewer than five times that she's going to have the Jamoca-flavor, all the while criticizing the Starbucks in front of us, apparently because they sell coffee. Crazy Mommy thinks to herself, "Does she really NEED the caffeine?"

We've moved a few inches, I think. The people behind us are nice, and we visit with them awhile. My kids are hanging in there. I still have a pleasant attitude. Fast forward about 45 minutes. We've entered the building at last! We're just inside the door, when someone who must look exactly like me from the knees down headed out the door. It was five seconds later that I realized that none of the children around me were my son. "Where's Garfield?", I start saying, in an increasingly paniced voice, while scanning the crowd. I'm already running out the door, someone tells me, "I think he went that way", and Crazy Mommy is now sprinting like a Salmon against the flow of the line.

Almost back where we started, I see the kind older grandfather who was in line behind us chasing my son, who was blindly following a lady who was not his Crazy Mommy. He's just reaching Garfield, telling him that "Mommy's back there", when I got to them. Mind you, this kid must've been seriously moving, because he was far away from me in the course of 10-15 seconds. I can't believe I didn't completely melt down (pun intended), but that was only because there wasn't time. I was just amazed at how suddenly I could've lost my son, whether he'd wandered in front of a car (no one was really watching him), or whether someone had grabbed him. I was also so grateful that we'd become best friends with the people behind us, which made them aware of the situation and willing to help out a stranger. I shudder to think of what could've happened if that man hadn't noticed what was going on and reacted so quickly.

We all get back in line, slightly ruffled. It's now been a little over an hour, but we're almost there. At last, the front of the line. Crazy Mommy orders for her children, who choose a flavor that can easily be purchased at the grocery store. Crazy Mommy orders for herself and for Daddy. We pay for all our treats---a little over $2! Success! The kids are licking their cones, the baby is screaming at me to share with her, and I'm balancing the cups of ice cream. I suppose the word "balancing" is giving me a little too much credit, because as soon as we get out the door, I drop Daddy's cup face-down on the concrete. (Ooops...sorry, Daddy. Did I forget to tell you that?) I don't care at this point. We'll scrape the dirt off, but we're NOT going back!

Only, when I stopped to pick up the ice cream, my son must've not realized he needed to put on the brakes, because he ran right into me. He's fine. We keep on walking, passing the still-very-long line of people. We're at the van when Emma tells me, "Mommy, there's orange ice cream ALL over your bottom." What in the world?!? My son's cone must've splatted right onto my behind when he ran into me, because the majority of his ice cream was smooshed into the seat of my pants. Nice. A lady in line apologetically says, "I was going to tell you, but..." It's ok. I really don't mind. These people already saw me frantically running after my lost son, so does it really matter if they see me with ice cream pasted onto my tooshie?

But, as they say, all's well that ends well. We all had our yummy ice cream. We kept our good attitudes throughout the whole ordeal, which is a small miracle in itself. And Crazy Mommy learned some really vital lessons in wisdom, humility, caution, and stain removal. A worthwhile outing, don't you think?

Ok, Chelsea. Here's my One Word Meme

2008-04-28T15:19:00.001-07:00

I've been tagged. I don't usually oblige those who tag me, mostly out of laziness. However, today it provides a quick blog.

You’re feeling: sleepy
To your left: Emma's homeschool desk by the window
On your mind: very little, I'm afraid (see first answer)
Last meal included: P.B.&J.
You sometimes find it hard to: get organized
The weather: gorgeous!
Something you have a collection of: rubber stamps and children
A smell that cheers you up: freshly bathed babies and baked goods in the oven
A smell that can ruin your mood: diapers smelling like the rhino pit at the zooHow long since you last shaved: a day
The current state of your hair: Texas ;)
The largest item on your desk/workspace (not computer): a pile of papers needing sorted or filed
Your skill with chopsticks: great, but only if we're talking about using them as pretend swords or hair accessories
Which section you head for first in a bookstore: I buy used books. I start with childrens' to see if I can find some from my "wanted" lists
Something you’re craving: sleep (see first answer)
Your general thoughts on the presidential race: Ron Paul's out, so we're heading for disaster any way you look at it
How many times have you been hospitalized this year: none
Favorite place to go for a quiet moment: I hide out in the bathroom sometimes. Admittedly, this is not ideal, but hey...it's the stage of life I'm in
You’ve always secretly thought you’d be a good: Sumo wrestler or underwater basket-weaver
Something that freaks you out a little: being on the verge of turning 30
Something you’ve eaten too much of lately: flan
You have never: dyed my hair
You never want to: bungee jump

I tag my friends that recently started blogging: Amy E., Ashley P., Sarah L., and Clarisa.

Squash Boat recipe

2008-04-24T14:33:00.000-07:00

For those of you who asked for my recipe, I really wasn't trying to be secretive with it! It's really quite simple the way I make it (my mom uses a more elaborate filling):

zucchini squash
ground beef, browned, and seasoned with Nature's Seasonings
Monterrey Jack cheese, shredded
salt and pepper

1. Preheat oven to 300. Slice zucchini in half, lenghwise. (I almost said "horizontally", but then I suppose that would depend on which way you were holding the squash, huh?)

2. Steam the zucchini until tender, using either a steamer or microwave. You should be able to easily stick a knife into them. (Or, you can place them flat side down in a pan with about 1/2 inch of water and bake at 350 for about 30 minutes.)

3. Meanwhile, have your ground beef warming in a skillet with seasoning, salt, and pepper.

4. Once squash is cooked, and using a pot holder to hold them, scrape the "innards", or "guts" from the shell, being careful not to cut into the skin. Place the squash guts into the pan with the meat. Note: I use a Pampered Chef Cook's Corer to scrape the squash, but you could also use a small spoon.

5. Place your empty zucchini skins into a baker. Fill them with the meat mixture. Cover with Monterrey Jack cheese (the more, the merrier).

6. Place in oven until cheese is melted, about 10 minutes.

(I didn't include amounts, because it really depends on your family size. We use about 5 average-sized squash, 1 lb. ground beef, and 1 1/2 cups cheese.)

An excellent video on education and creativity

2008-04-16T13:19:00.000-07:00

I don't want to lose track of this, so I'm posting it here for future reference. If you have children, and especially if you are teaching them yourself, this 20-minute (humorous) clip will provide valuable perspective for you.

Um, so remind me what you need ME for again?

2008-04-12T19:34:00.000-07:00

My 5-year-old just emerged from bathroom, after a session of potty-training my 2 1/2-year-old. On a whim. And it worked. She then proceeded to award him his chocolate (at his request), praising him endlessly. After that she had her first go at brushing his teeth, and you know what? He wasn't wiggly for her.

Oh, and she also taught him to count by 10's this week. And his letter sounds are coming along nicely, too, thanks to Emma.

So I suppose this is yet another perk to having more than one child. Now remind me what I'm supposed to be doing?

Meet Marble and Loder

2008-04-06T19:20:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my good friends Kim C. and Jenny, our church has embarked upon a wonderful adventure---a produce co-op like no other. I've been part of several co-ops before, but usually you have to pay a set amount of money in order to receive random produce that is at chosen at the discretion of the "picker". But this co-op is being run differently. They've set up a Google spreadsheet that allows individuals to make their selections from the list ahead of time so that it's a personalized order. The prices are still phenomenal (about 50% of grocery store), but you don't have to try and find a use for 10 bell peppers or 3 jicamas in one week if you don't want to.

So we showed up for the first co-op, and discovered that our zucchini order (6 lbs.)was being fulfilled by two zucchinis. These suckers were gargantuan! So I wasn't too surprised when my daughter decided to name them. After all, they certainly were no smaller than a sizeable weinie dog. Marble and Loder (pronounced "Loader") were toted around with love and affectionately caressed. All was peachy until it came time to make the often-requested Squash Boats. Then the tears came as Marble was carefully disected. I must say, I've never seen anyone get so emotional over a vegetable, but hey, there was an attachment there. (Loder got to live for a few days longer, since it turned out that one of these zucchinis was enough to make a meal for our family of five!)

(Note that this is a 9 x 13 baker!)

I'm happy to report that all's well that ends well. Although I had been afraid that the size of the squash was going to compromise it's tenderness, I was wrong. The dinner was delicious, and even Emma didn't seem to miss Marble too much once she tasted his squashy goodness.

Recipe Etiquette

2008-04-06T15:09:00.000-07:00

I'm quite food-oriented. Food seems to be a primary source for both enjoying God's blessings, and blessing others, so I feel justified in using a large amount of brain space to think on edible matters.

I have a general Recipe Philosophy which I always assumed was the unspoken set of rules, but perhaps I've been wrong all these years. So I'll spell it out, and see if you agree wholeheartedly, or vehemently disagree:

1. I believe recipes are for sharing. Why withhold something wonderful from those who enjoy it? Unless you are getting paid large sums of money to develop and provide these recipes to some big-name client, I see no point in keeping them a secret.

2. I also believe that when you are the recipient of a recipe someone has shared with you, it's common courtesy to not make that particular recipe for the donor's circle. For instance: My mother is world-renowned for her pies and flan. (Well, almost world-renowned. All my relatives know about her skills, and that's quite a crowd.) She graciously passes down her recipes to me. But I would never be so bold as to try and duplicate her recipe and take it to, say, a family reunion. I would, however, take her recipe to my church potluck, a MOPS gathering, or to my Bible study group. What's the difference, you say? Well, those aren't her circles, and they never will be. I'm not in danger of trespassing her recipe territory, so to speak. And I usually go so far as to give her credit whenever someone compliments the dish, especially if they know her.

Now, just to clarify, I'm not talking about general recipes that everyone knows how to make. If I bring my chili on the same day you bring your chili, that's no big deal. I'm talking about the more distinctive recipes.

Am I wrong to think that if someone is known for a certain dish among a particular crowd, it's almost like "stealing" to take over their recipe and use it for that same crowd? It's never happened to me personally, but I've been surprised to hear of it happening to others.

So do you follow these same unspoken rules, or am I taking these recipe rules way too seriously?

He's a wise old owl

2008-04-03T12:34:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows how logical two-year-old are. Mine is no exception.

His Daddy was asking him the other night during a diaper change, "Son, do you think you'd like to try and go potty in the toilet?"

To which he replied, "No, not quite yet. First I have to get bigger and be able to drive a tractor."

Makes perfect sense to me.

In case you're wondering...

2008-03-16T18:08:00.000-07:00

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The West Your accent is the lowest common denominator of American speech. Unless you're a SoCal surfer, no one thinks you have an accent. And really, you may not even be from the West at all, you could easily be from Florida or one of those big Southern cities like Dallas or Atlanta.
The Midland
Boston
North Central
The Inland North
Philadelphia
The South
The Northeast
What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

ht: Chelsea

See what I mean?

2008-03-13T21:32:00.000-07:00

Elizabeth had a hankerin' for some fish, but apparently she didn't have the patience to wait for it to be cooked. We tried explaining it was a catch-and-release program, but she wanted to hear nothing of that. She insists that releasing is for wimps.
Oh, well. I suppose she's ready to hit the Sushi bars now.

Foaming at the Mouth

2008-03-13T12:35:00.001-07:00

My youngest daughter loves to eat. That's an understatement. This little barely-over-one-year-old can out-eat most of the rest of us on a usual basis. It's insane, considering she's such a diminutive baby for her age. She also uses very little discretion when it comes to her food. She's quite the equal-opportunity eater.

Case in point: Yesterday we spent the day out at the property where my parents are building their house. As soon as we got out of the van, Elizabeth scoured the ground, and started saying "Num" (her word for food, as in, short for "num-num"). What was she pointing at? This:

Construction foam. Yummy, nummy construction foam.

Our church family is quite spoiled with wonderful Challah bread for the Lord's Supper each week. (Thanks, Donna!) The heel of the loaf looks remarkably like this piece of foam. Thank goodness she wasn't crawling around on the ground, because I'm fairly certain that she would've gladly eaten the foam if given the chance.

Sheesh. You'd think I starve my baby or something.

2008-03-09T16:12:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to my sweet husband.

Loving father, gardener-extraordinaire, maintainer of my sanity.

I love you, Garfield. I'd be lost without you. (Or wait...actually, you'd be lost without me. Literally. But I'd be quite lost, figuratively speaking, without you.)

Did ya vote yet, Texans?

2008-03-04T13:29:00.000-08:00

Whew. I'm glad today has finally arrived---the day of the Texas Republican primaries. We got to vote for Ron Paul (woohoo!), and now maybe my phone will stop ringing nine times a day with people on the other end who actually expect us to vote for Hillary or Obama. Seriously, nine times a day. So now I can get back to getting other phone calls. (insert cricket chirp)

I think my camera is having problems...

2008-03-03T14:01:00.000-08:00

The red-eye reduction doesn't seem to be working very well.

Just a little braggin'

2008-02-29T13:50:00.000-08:00

A client of Garfield's, who is a season pass Spurs ticket holder, gave him a pair of shweet tickets! We got to sit practically on the floor, 9 rows back, with a private entry and a separate lounge for all the snobby fans who are willing to drop $500 a game all season long. The man even included a parking pass, which saved us $15 and allowed us to park right next to the arena. We agreed that the amount of money people spend to watch ball games is insane, but lived it up while we had our one chance to do the Spurs game "hoity-toity" style...on someone else's tab.

(Amy and Chelsea, I must admit, I felt a bit guilty. One of you should've been in my place, being the fans that you are. But at least I didn't call you to rub it in that Tim Duncan was standing 30 feet from us making his free throws.)

Tell me it's not just me.

2008-02-28T14:25:00.001-08:00

I think I may be certifiable.

I feel like I'm going crazy (literally) these days. My brain seems so fragmented. I can't focus on an entire thought train long enough to finish the thought before it derails. My spirit is following suit, so by the end of the day I feel so scattered and frazzled that nothing short of a hot shower, a cup of hot tea, and some silent time in prayer will calm me down.

I'm not sure what's causing it, but I have some hunches. For one thing, at the beginning of the year I got in major organizing mode like the rest of the world. This is necessary in our house, but now that it's late February, I'm still finding random piles and assorted not-yet-finished projects here and there. Progress is being made, but in the meantime it seems as though all these piles are screaming at me: "Finish me first! No, me first! No, I'm the most pressing and annoying---finish ME first!" (In case you don't know this about me yet, I get easily overwhelmed. And when I'm overwhelmed, I tend to just shut down and not go any further. Handy quirk, I know.)

I'm also in the middle of reevaluating our daily schedule. It needs tweaking, as always, so that I can try to find a balance in juggling the many things we're trying to accomplish around here. I'm one of those weird ones that likes to have "fun time" scheduled in so that I don't feel guilty while I'm just goofing off playing with my kiddos!

There's also various trials going on in the lives of lots of the people I care about, and concern for them is preoccupying my thoughts.

So tell me, I used to think that this was just a "mom thing", but am I wrong? Do any of you find yourself in a mental mess from time to time? Thankfully this isn't a constant problem for me; it's intermittent, but when it hits it seems to stick around for awhile before I can shake it. Everyone else out there seems to be able to think clearly, though, so perhaps I need to just put in my request for my white straight jacket and the room with padded walls now?

Lovely hat, Dahling!

2008-02-24T14:03:00.000-08:00

My, how beautiful she looks in that hat!

And she looks simply stunning, as well, don't you think?

And don't forget about this pretty little gir.....wait just a minute!

There....that's better!

Thrifty Thursday---Grocery Shopping tip

2008-02-14T12:38:00.000-08:00

I'm sure we've all noticed the recent hike in grocery prices, and I can only attribute it to the rising cost of gasoline used in transport, which has to be passed on to the consumer.

Well, in light of winter being slow season for landscapers, I set a goal a few months ago to cut down some of our budget line-items, groceries being one of them. I shop once a week, and though my menus vary greatly from week to week (or at least the dinner portion), I always seemed to spend the same amount each time. Within about five dollars, my HEB total was extremely predictable.

So what's a girl to do when she puts herself on a budget that is 25% less than normal per week? Well, I did try to incorporate some inexpensive meals into my menu, but I also tried another trick that I think has been even more helpful than changing menus---using a calculator at the store.

I know this isn't exactly a new idea, but bear with me. I stuck a little calculator in my purse, and pulled it out as soon as I started loading things into my basket. With each item, I just keep a running total of my costs. For the first few weeks, I also scribbled a quick note of the price next to the item on my list. (This was mostly because I was paranoid that I'd push the wrong button along the way and lose my tally. I wanted to be able to enter them again if that happened.)

It became like a game to me. I was in a competition with myself, determined to stay under the predetermined amount. As that amount drew nearer, I was a bit more selective about what went into the cart. Suddenly, things I thought were good buys ended up going back on the shelf. They could wait. I never thought I made impulsive purchases at the grocery store, but apparently I had gotten used to getting some things we didn't absolutely need, just because they were on sale or I thought they'd come in handy.

Just the mere fact that I knew ahead of time what my total was going to be was a huge help in sticking to the budget. I mean, think about it: once your items are being rung up, what are you going to do if your total exceeds your budget? You can't exactly make changes at that point. But if you know your total before getting to the check-out, you can easily go back and unload some things from the cart.

I also found it helpful to see the individual prices of my purchases, some of which had gone up significantly since I'd last really paid attention. That comes in handy when I see, for example, an ad at another store and want to determine if it's really worth that extra stop. It also helps me weed out a few items that have just gotten too expensive to justify.

Disclaimer: I do my grocery shopping alone, at night. So I don't have kids vieing for my attention while I'm trying to make calculations. And I can no longer make my phone-calls to my friends while shopping, because I'm just not capable of talking, shopping, and calculating simultaneously.

But since starting this habit, I've consistently been able to keep our HEB bill 25% lower than it's been for the past year or so, so it's worth it to me to look a bit geekish at the store.

A word from Doug Phillips regarding the Ballot Box:

2008-02-05T13:37:00.000-08:00

More important than who wins or looses the 2008 election is this: Will Christians look to the Bible as their absolute standard for determining what principles must guide their voting practices? Will the Scriptures govern our thinking and consequently our actions. At stake is far more than the presidency. The question concerns the conscience of the Church. We can “win” an election, and yet sell our spiritual birthright. Conversely, we can “lose” an election, yet remain faithful to the Word of God, thus preserving the conscience of the body of Christ, and enjoying the favor of the Lord.

Elections matter. They matter a great deal. But what matters the most is that the Church remains faithful to her bridegroom by following the only infallible standard ever written for the selection of civil magistrates. That standard is the Bible, and there is none other that perfectly reflects the mind of God. It is our source book for determining what guidelines must govern the selection of our leaders.

Some believe that the Bible is silent on the question of what standards should govern the selection of a civil magistrate. But to reach this conclusion is to deny the sufficiency of Scripture and to substitute autonomous human reason for biblical revelation. Others are so fearful of certain outcomes that there is little reasoning with them. These individuals are (no doubt, unwittingly) fixed on specific outcomes, not commitment to biblical guidelines. They want to condemn their brethren by saying that a vote for X is really a vote for Y. Their election fears seem sometimes to rise to a self-righteous hysteria, governed more by emotions than objective standards. None of these approaches are helpful.

The Bible is the only answer for fearful Christians in an age of politics. The Bible has the answer to the ethical chaos of fear-driven voting, pragmatic voting, “ends-justifies-the-means” voting, and “lesser-of-two-evils” voting. The Bible does not require Christians to vote for perfect candidates, but it does require that Christians support biblically qualified candidates.

Fat Cat, Fat Rat

2008-01-23T19:09:00.001-08:00

A little less than two weeks ago, without any fanfare, without advance notice, and a little bit on a whim, we began "official" homeschooling with Emma. It's not that I didn't know we would homeschool her; it's just that I was getting all worked up about the "perfect" start. Which date would be ideal? What would we begin with, exactly? How would it play out? My anxiety level over this self-imposed kick-off was through the roof. What if it didn't go well? What if the baby and the 2-year-old don't cooperate? What if I started with the wrong thing, went in the wrong order, did too much, didn't do enough, didn't convey things well enough for her to grasp....

And then there was the big, overarching fear: "What if this new step leads us into a place I don't really like as much as the current place, and I'm faced with the reality that it's going to be my life for the next, oh, say 25 years, like it or not?" I know, I know. How's that for setting myself up for a fall?

Which is why I decided I was being completely ridiculous. First of all, I'd been working with Emma all along, teaching her all sorts of lessons every day, both academic and otherwise. So what was the big deal about "officially" starting? It was admitting to myself that what has always been an idea in our heads was now going to become a reality. She couldn't just stay small forever. Someone has to teach her, and that someone is me. And whether I start now or a year from now, there are things she needs to learn. The life we've talked about since before becoming pregnant for the first time is upon us!

Understandably, this scared the bejeebies out of me. I was making it into a mountain because in my head, with my background, it was a mountain. I was not homeschooled. My husband wasn't either. For both of us, starting school for the first time was a huge deal. I'm not sure if that's the case with all 2nd generation homeschooling families (or even 1st generation), but for us, it's a major milestone.

Which is why I think God allowed us to just jump in with no warning. Soon after I'd given up on trying to figure out how and when to start, He allowed a perfect opportunity. On a Friday afternoon, no less. (How's that for unorthodox?) The little ones were napping, Emma was not, and the box-o-phonics-stuff was staring me in the face. So right then and there, we sat down and did a lesson. Done. Pressure off. Just like that.

Since then, I can say that I've made more of an effort to be intentional about what I'm teaching her each day, as circumstances allow. We don't always do our lessons at the same time every day, or even in the same room each time. But the self-inflicted pressure and fear are off my shoulders, and now I see that we're all going to grow with this process.

And as for "Fat Cat, Fat Rat"? That's the story she read today, all by herself! I can't tell you how rewarding that was for both of us. God is certainly faithful, especially when we're obedient to His call, even when we haven't a clue what we're doing.

Amazed once again

2008-01-23T16:50:00.000-08:00

I've just received word of a new blessing.

An anonymous, generous, unexpected blessing.

Someone has been extremely kind to me, in secret.

Someone has made sure that "even their right hand doesn't know what their left hand is doing."

I'm confused and grateful all at the same time.

God is so good to me, providing in very unusual ways.

I say it's unusual, but He's established quite a pattern in our lives, and in the lives of others who belong to Him.

I suppose there's a fine line between coming to expect it of Him, and yet still being pleasantly surprised when His blessings are new each morning.

Thank you, Lord, for showing me you love me, and please allow me opportunity to bless others in the way I have been blessed.

Using an addiction to your benefit

2008-01-22T15:32:00.000-08:00

Last year I stole an idea from Kim C.'s New Year's goals. Last year I failed at it. But this year, it seems to be working like a charm, so I thought I'd post on it, both to hold myself accountable, and to possibly encourage you to try something similar.

It's simple, really. It's a matter of using something you're addicted to in order to train yourself to do something you strongly desire to implement. In my case, it involves not allowing myself to have computer time until I've done my Bible reading for the day. For most of my life I've struggled with having a consistent daily Bible reading time. But I've realized that with three small children in the house, expecting to have a set time for Bible reading is unrealistic.

I do, however, seem to manage to miraculously find time to get on the computer every day, which destroys my "no time" excuse. It only proves that my priorities are out of whack. So I've decided to use that to my advantage.

Now, before I even allow myself to sit down and check who sent email, or who's blogged, I make sure I've read my Bible. It may be several chapters, or perhaps just the Proverb chapter that corresponds to the day of the month. Reading the kids a Genesis chapter counts, as does attending Bible study (if we actually read a chunk of scripture that day). Surprisingly, I somehow seem to now fit in my reading by the time the kids are down for nap.

This has made me realize two things. First, I knew I was addicted to the computer, but I didn't realize quite how strong the pull was until I wasn't allowing myself to get on just at any ol' time. (Pulling myself away from it was giving me a gasping-for-air sort of feeling for the first few days!) Second, I'm seeing how being faithful to remain in the scriptures has given me a desire to read them even more.

The secondary benefit has been cutting my time "wasted" at the computer, since I used to do alot of just piddling around for fun. Now, since my time is fairly limited, I choose more wisely.

While it may seem like just an obligatory approach, the effects are similar to any training in self-discipline. It may start out as a "just going through the motions" ritual, but the Lord blesses that time and uses it to fill the mind and heart with His truths---and they shall never return to Him void.

And here I thought I was the only one who thought this was the case

2008-01-16T13:33:00.000-08:00

Ok, this is just way too funny not to share! Men and women...are we really the same species?

hat tip: Jenny B.

An Unofficial Poll, for all you stay-at-home-moms

2008-01-07T11:51:00.000-08:00

Being that I'm not a morning person (ahem...can we say understatement?), I'm curious to see how those of you who stay home with children greet your day.

Do you use your kids as an alarm, or try to get up before them? Do you eat with your family, or by yourself before everyone wakes, or not at all? Do you do your chores right away? Do your kids do theirs? If you homeschool, do you jump right into that? Do you begin the day with reading, alone and/or with your children? What times are all these things happening?

We're about to enter a new era around here, and I think one of the big things that needs to be adjusted is how I run the first part of our day. I'm so used to using a baby for an alarm, that I almost don't remember how to set mine! But that's probably something that needs to change now that I have a late-sleeping baby.

I'd appreciate hearing from you in the comments, especially if you have a morning routine that you love, or have some suggestions for what NOT to do.

Ya wanna know the truth?

2008-01-03T13:06:00.001-08:00

My life's a mess right now.

Ok, that's not a fair statement. Rather, everything in my life is a mess right now.

I know just how it happened, too. Things were moving along at a nice pace, with routines working just fine, and headway being made when WHAM! Along came December. I know it always follows November, but somehow it managed to blindside me this year.

But I rolled with it, having loads of merriment, and spending the entire month in my kitchen. We're talking serious baking here, intermingled with joyous events to host and attend. It was all delightful (with the exception of some sick kiddos), though quick and busy. I enjoyed every day, and collapsed into bed way too late each night.

Then came the trip. We packed Christmas day to leave for 5 days. The trip went well other than hubby being sick the entire time, and we returned home to prepare for the new year. But then the reality of it all started hitting, and I'm now seeing just what a mess everything is.

We've been home for 4 days, and I'm nowhere near caught up on laundry. Menus need to be planned, groceries need to be bought, a dead tree and its adornments need to be taken down, snowmen need to be smuggled back into the attic. Stacks of papers need to be filed, things need to be mailed off, bags and bags of hand-me-downs need to be sorted through. A newsletter needs to get written, meals need to be cooked, toys need to be put away (and space made for the new ones). Piles of clothes need to be hung, floors desperately need to be vacuumed, bathrooms need to be cleaned. I could go on, but I'm sure you're worn out enough just reading it, right? So am I.

I know what the answer is, or at least I think I do: some spurts of hard work when the kids are sleeping in order to get things liveable again, then systematically tackle the other things project by project, right? Honestly, I'd rather pull an ostrich stunt and stick my head in the ground, hoping it'll all just take care of itself. When I get overwhelmed I tend to just freeze, unable to figure out where to start.

I know you organized types out there probably can't understand why I don't just get going and get it done! So any suggestions and/or offers to take over would be greatly appreciated!

Whew. Confession time is over. Now you know the real reason I haven't been blogging!

I'm working up the gumption...

2008-01-01T21:41:00.000-08:00

...to get back into blogging.

I'm posting this non-post in an attempt to whet my appetite for real posting again. Gotta work up to it slowly, you know, since it's become such a foreign concept in my world. I'm kinda getting the shakes just entering the words on this screen. Can you tell I'm not a jump-into-the-pool-all-at-once kind of girl? Nope, I creep in ever so slowly, one shivery inch at a time. Prolong the torture, I always say.

Check back within the next few days, and hold me to my word, would ya?

Noooo! Please don't eat me!

2007-12-06T14:48:00.000-08:00

I threaten to eat my babies all the time. I think the 2-year-old is honestly beginning to worry. I've noticed him tending more towards the veggies and less towards the fatty foods, perhaps in an attempt to make himself less appealing to the palate? No dice. I still salivate when I see him in a diaper. In fact, I'm salivating right now just at the thought of his round belly and what we affectionately refer to as "hammies" (chubby baby thighs). And the tiny one, well, she's enough to make anyone want to munch on her. Wouldn't you agree?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I hear my snacks waking up...

How Sweet it is...

2007-12-04T21:04:00.000-08:00

It was a sweet day.

It wasn't the taste, although they were delicious, indeed.

It wasn't the bakery-like appearance, although they had character, indeed.

It was the memories we made.

It was the little apron she wears when she bakes with me. It was the serious tone in my daughter's voice as she explained to her little brother, as if part of an initiation process, that licking the beater was the best part. It was the joy on his face as he discovered this to be true. It was the extra hugs I got, the extra "I love you"s, the sheer delight in their squeals. It was seeing him covered with flour, and training myself not to care. It was the precious, rare quiet time spent alone with her, while the babies were still sleeping, praising her for excessive sprinkles. It was the "I love baking. I love baking with you" that she told me with a sparkle in her eye. It was the proud way she wanted to tell everyone what she'd made, offering them a sample with complete confidence that they would love it.

There's just something about devoting the better part of a December day to baking Frosted Cut-Out Sugar Cookies with your kids that makes you feel like a good mom. Not a good nutritionist, and certainly not a good housekeeper, but a good mom.

And I like that feeling. I really like that feeling.

Nothing too egg-citing

2007-11-30T20:19:00.000-08:00

Recently I've been disturbed and alarmed by the rate at which our family is going through eggs: about a dozen every 24 hours! This is a new development for me, and I'm trying to convince myself that it has mostly to do with all the extra baking that's been going on. But is that really it? I mean, I guess it makes sense, since just the kids and I eat 7 at once if we're scrambling them. Nine or ten if Daddy's eating with us. But still, it just made me realize we really are a growing family.

I long ago gave up on just getting a dozen per week. Those ran out way too fast, so I've been getting 1 1/2 dozen for years now. But we're flying through those, so I gave in this past grocery run and bought the BIG three dozen pack. We'll see. Perhaps I'd be better off just investing in some chickens.

It doesn't help that we're a bit cooped up here. I don't mean to ruffle anyone's feathers, but honestly, it's enought to make someone just crack. And that's no yolk! Not that things aren't eggcellent, it's just that the kids tend to establish a pecking order. And then every time I fowl up, they start to cower in the corner like little chickens. I have the best-laid plans, but sometimes it comes down to the wire. That's what it boils down to. Maybe I'm bocking up the wrong tree? But do you ever feel hen-pecked? Now I'm making myself cackle. And I've barely scratched the surface! I'm scrambling for more, but my brain is fried, and I'm beat.

I'm Passionately recommending...

2007-11-24T13:38:00.000-08:00

...that you put this at the top of your Christmas list, ladies. Honestly, just do it. It's that good. It's that encouraging.

I couldn't put it down, and I was not disappointed. If you're a woman at home, or want to be, you need to read this. If you've ever felt discouraged, trapped, weary, or like you're wasting your time, you need to read this. If you struggle at times to keep sight of your vision and your purpose, you need to read this. If you've ever been tempted by thoughts of self-pity or depression, you need to read this.

I know there are a plethora of books out there in this department, even ones claiming to be Christian, but I guarantee you this one's different. It's so down-to-earth, filled with scripture throughout, and written by real-life women who struggle like we do. I wish I had the money to pass them out to all the women in my life, because I was just. so. encouraged.

The best part is, Vision Forum is offering free shipping now through Monday, November 26th. www.visionforum.com

Oh, the smells...

2007-11-20T12:29:00.000-08:00

My house is filling with the aromas of freshly-baked breads, cranberries and pumpkin, and the preparations for Thanksgiving festivities are underway.

As we prepare our home and the spread, and staying up 'til all hours to do so, I'm running purely on excitement. And caffeine---don't forget caffeine.

When will I learn?

2007-10-31T12:55:00.000-07:00

Photo shoots with three children under the age of 5 are highly overrated.

Here's 1 Recipe for Disaster:

Ingredients:

3 small children
2 of which are babies
1 tired husband
1 lovely afternoon
1 determined mommy
289 assorted pumpkins & gourds
35 other sets of parents as crazy as yourself
50 kids all not wanting their pictures taken

Begin by dressing the children accordingly, in outfits that do not clash with each other, and that complement pumpkins. Then, pack a lovely lunch to be eaten on the grounds in an attempt to appease the children. Next, drive to the crowded pumpkin patch and try to spread your good attitude around. Mix your children together, in a clump, and try to get them to face you and your camera. Then, try again. Then, make funny faces and try again. Then, make loud, increasingly exasperated noises and try again. Then, recruit your husband's help and try again. Then, make promises and try again. Then, make threats and try again. If children still will not all look into the camera, start huffing around in desperation, until finally you are ready to admit defeat. Remain defeated for 10-12 minutes until 3:50, when you swear you'll never try this again. (Until the Christmas card pictures, that is.)

Yield: 5 family members feeling like this:

Sadly, this very well may be the best shot I got:

Vision Forum Wish List--Revised

2007-10-26T17:56:00.001-07:00

My friend Kim C. over at Life in a Shoe is having yet another Vision Forum giveaway, but this time it's beefed up to $250! So I get to add to my previous list, and hope that the fact I'm her friend will make my name jump into her hand.

Let's see...if I had to narrow it down to $250 worth of free Vision Forum material, I'd begin here:

*Passionate Housewives Desperate for God, a book by Jennie Chancey and Stacy McDonald

*A Church in the House, by Matthew Henry

*Be Fruitful and Multiply, by Nancy Campbell

*Beloved Bride: The Letters of Stonewall Jackson to His Wife, by Bill Potter

*The Letters & Lessons of Teddy Roosevelt for His Sons

*How to Think Like a Christian, by Douglas Phillips

*Teach Them to Your Children: An Alphabet of Biblical Poems, Verses, and Stories, by Sarah Wean

*Family Man, Family Leader, by Philip Lancaster

*Ten P's in a Pod, by Arnold Pent III

*The Wise Woman's Guide to Blessing Her Husband's Vision

*Family Renewal Library, an audio CD series by Doug Phillips

*Home-making: A Biblical Blueprint for a Happy Home, by J.R. Miller

*Home School Vision of Victory, by Doug Phillips

Rats! I'm $4 shy, and I didn't see anything for that amount. Pick me! Pick me! (Waves hand wildly in air.)

What is it with Fridays?

2007-10-26T14:36:00.000-07:00

Up until about 7 p.m. yesterday, I was just fine. By about 8 p.m., I started throwing up every half hour until 4 a.m. By this morning, I had the tell-tale body aches, combined with that burning up/chills sensation. I don't know what hit, but whatever it is, it hit hard and fast.

My dear sweet husband was kind enough to stay home and watch all the kids all day, while playing nurse by bringing me anything we hoped would help. I don't know where the four of us would've been without him today.

So much for all the fun weekend plans we had. Hopefully this is just a 24-hour bug that will go away as quickly as it came. Anyone care to diagnose?

If this is Friday, I don't want to see what Monday's gonna look like! (Updated)

2007-10-19T13:47:00.000-07:00

It's been one of those days.

We had a simple photo shoot scheduled at Target for Elizabeth's 9-month portraits. We do this every month, for every child's first year, so it's really nothing new at this point. Until today, that is, when Murphy decided to come with us.

We're running a bit late. I'm scrambling to get the baby all dolled up, and searching everywhere for her other little shoe that looks like a pink satin ballet slipper. She hasn't worn them in months due to the heat, and now I'm wondering why on earth I didn't locate them sooner. Oh yeah. Because I didn't decide on her outfit until half an hour before leaving. That's ok, though; we find the shoe, put the hair up into a little fountain, grab all the plethora of coupons I always cash in. What? I can't find the coupon? Ok, we're definitely going to be late, but they'll take us anyway.

We get to Target, and I prep the kids to hang on tight to the basket, because Mommy's going to run. And I mean really run, as in, huffing and puffing by the time I reach the far back corner of the store where the studio is. (Begin William Tell Overature.) I have no pride, as you can tell.

We're regulars at this studio, and I always wonder how they refer to me behind my back. Is it "Mrs. Green who's always late", or is it "the coupon lady"? No matter, they seem to like us anyway. But there are some screaming children in the waiting area, walking on the chairs. So the manager whispers to me, "Since you're a bit late, do you mind if I take those rowdy boys first so we can get them out of here?" Sure, why not. We'll go get shoes for Emma while we wait.

Did I mention that I'm planning to meet my friend, who was my Maid of Honor in our wedding, for lunch right after this photo shoot? So she shows up in the aisle of Target, and the poor thing ended up watching my two kids and her own sweet baby while Elizabeth's getting her pictures taken. It's taking forever for the lady with the unrulies to make her selections and leave. It's now noon, and we have 4 hungry, bordering-on-cranky kids. That's ok, we'll just go grab lunch as planned and everyone will settle down.

So after the new girl takes 15 minues to ring up my bill, I rush outside so we can go meet Sarah at Chick-fil-A. I try to open the passenger door on the van. Crunch. What? Why won't the door open? Oh, lovely---whoever was parked next to us apparently hit my van as they were pulling out. Deep breath. Don't get upset. Maybe they left a note? Ha! Wishful thinking. Call the hubby. Call Sarah to let her know we haven't gotten lost in the parking lot. Call the insurance company to make the claim. Assure eldest daughter that it will all be ok, and that our much-loved van is fixable.

Flustered and hungry, we head to Chick-fil-A. Get everyone unloaded while still on the phone with insurance. Go inside and face the Friday-at-noon mobs. Try to configure two adults and four small children at the table, while assuring the lady next to us that my baby will stop screaming as soon as she gets fed. Great--I just noticed baby's shoe (you know the one I had such a hard time finding?) is missing. It must've fallen off in the parking lot madness.

Ten minutes into the meal, as I'm cutting nuggets and wondering how cold my own sandwich will be by the time I get to taste it, my son starts choking. Not just the kind where he drank too fast, but the real kind of choking, where the face turns red and everyone in the restaurant is staring at you waiting to see how you're going to save your child. I'm stuck across the table from him. I lift his arms and pat his back, and calm him down so he can try to dislodge whatever's stuck in his throat. After about 20 seconds which felt like 20 minutes, he's fine.

Breathe. Try and carry on at least a shred of conversation with Sarah, who's gone out of her way to have lunch with us, and who is handling all my chaos very graciously. Gobble down my own sandwich, which is coming in handy since I hadn't had breakfast in the morning rush. Time to go. Didn't we just get here one choke ago, and with one more tiny shoe than we have now? Drive home, and greet the husband whose allergy problems have now turned full-blown sinus infection. Sigh.

Oh, well. You win some, you lose some. I now remember what the purpose of drive-throughs is. And now for the weekend...

(*Update: We just got back from having dinner at the home of some very close friends of ours, where our son got to experience throwing up for the very first time. Good thing their house is about 80% tile. It'd be a better thing if he hadn't chosen to barf on the 20% that's carpet.)

I love you, too.

2007-10-18T11:45:00.000-07:00

I barfed all day for months on end when he was first conceived. Then, I waddled around with him in utero, dealing with all the usual: heartburn, fatigue, sciatic nerve pain, swelling, and did I mention fatigue? Then I labored for hours, finally giving birth to him without so much as even a Tylenol for the pain. Then I dealt with all the postpartum hormones, nursing 'round the clock, and did I mention fatigue? I've changed diapers endlessly, and fed endlessly. I've read him a million books, and given at least twice that many hugs. He's my little boy, my only son so far, and I love him to bits.

So what does he have to say for himself? "I luvvu, Daddy." What?!? Now wait just a minute! I accepted the fact that his first two-syllable words were "Dada", "cookie", and then "Mama", in that order. I mean, cookies are hard to beat, and he is my son after all. I've never solicited an "I love you" from him, because what good would that be if it wasn't unprompted? But when I kept hearing "I luvvu, Daddy" over the past few days, I was beginning to wonder.

Today ended my longing. As I put him in his crib for nap and covered him with his silky, I said my usual, "Have a good nap, Garfield. I love you." To which he replied, "I luvvu, Mommy."

Ahhhh. Some moments make it all worthwhile.

My blog...

2007-10-17T19:38:00.000-07:00

...is undergoing an identity crisis as I try to reestablish its purpose in life. You'll notice I haven't been writing much lately, and it's not that I don't have much to say. Rather, it's that I haven't had a desire to blog.

So that led me to question what my original intention was in starting to blog. (Actually, hubby started it for me, and then I cruelly took over.) Originally, since our second child was just born, we wanted an easy way to show family and friends pictures of our kiddos and post some family updates. But then the realization that I enjoy writing crept up on me, and I figured I'd have a captive audience on which to unload my thoughts. It became an outlet, as well as a very effective way to make up for the fact that my dislike of the phone is growing in direct proportion to the number of times I've given birth.

However, after two years, I'm realizing things are different now, and I'm wondering if it's even worth it to keep up the intent to blog. (Personally, I figure that a blog that only has a new entry every couple of weeks is probably a hassle to those that are faithful enough to keep checking back for new posts.)

I'm also realizing that I need to cut back on my computer time in general. I've started limiting myself to being on during the kids' naptime, or after their bedtime so as not to cut into my time with them. But even then, I do feel like the combination of reading all the gazillion blogs I'm into, as well as needing to take care of basic computer tasks, is a bit too much. There's definitely a need to cut back somewhere. So should it be my own blog, I wonder?

I do like to write, but there are other avenues for that.

I do like to post pictures, but emailing through Shutterfly would be just as effective.

Please don't take this as whining, or an attempt to fish for compliments. It's neither...just something for me to think about.

I could really use this about now...

2007-10-09T19:13:00.000-07:00

I'm really looking forward to this book that Stacy McDonald and Jennie Chancey are about to release! Sounds like something that won't hit my hands a moment too soon...

I get on certain "kicks" that ebb and flow, and this book is sure to fit right in with my recent thoughts and concerns. Currently I'm finding myself very occupied with thoughts regarding child training, home management/decorating, and schedules. I suppose they all kind of fit into the same category to one degree or another. In any case, my daily tasks and reading seem to be geared toward improving in all these areas.

This book sounds like it will encompass many of the facets involved with being a Christian housewife.

These pitiful South Texas children

2007-10-07T15:30:00.000-07:00

Does it make any of you other South Texas parents sad when your kids have to resort to stacking three juggling balls to proudly exclaim, "Look, Mommy...a snowman!"

Crock-pot oatmeal

2007-10-05T20:41:00.000-07:00

Sorry to get your hopes up by the title to this post. I'd hoped to be able to share a wonderful recipe with you today, but instead, I can tell you what recipe NOT to make! I had such high hopes for this easy way to wake up to warm, cinnamon apple oatmeal, but instead, I couldn't even make myself choke down a full bite. My poor daughter tried to surpress her gagging (quite unsuccessfully), and my dear husband apparently drowned his whole bowl in sugar and tried to show his gratitude to his wife by torturing himself, oatmeal style. Minus hubby's portion, I dumped the entire crock pot batch.

So...if anyone out there has a tried-and-true yummy recipe for crock pot oatmeal (any flavor), I'd really appreciate hearing about it!

Yes, the lovely, spiky, post-partum hair

2007-10-02T13:04:00.001-07:00

It's a bummer that my hair is doing this again, but alas, 'tis so. At least I have an explanation.

Does this happen to you, too?

Stuck pig

2007-10-02T07:22:00.000-07:00

I wish I was writing about something as romantic as Hawaiian luau cuisine, but no such luck. I'm talking about literally being stuck to a pig. There's no rendition of this story that can ease the humiliation, so I'll just tell it like it is.

Emma's piggy bank broke yesterday, which was a minor travesty in itself. But then, to add insult to injury, when I tried to use the new spiffy Super Glue gel Daddy brought to repair it, I ended up spending the better part of my evening glued to a ceramic pig. Yes, of course I know better than to touch the glue with my fingers. But apparently I was completely preoccupied, because this wasn't just a little accidental grazing of the finger...this was me actually using my thumb to press down for the full recommended 15 seconds...right on the glue.

So there we sat, pouring cooking oil all over me, the pig, and our counter top, in a vain attempt to release me. (Apparently the cooking oil is only to release your fingers that are stuck together. Hmmph. I'm way too smart to ever do that.) Garfield got online and found that Super glue only has one weakness: acetone. Thank goodness we had a bottle of nail polish remover on hand.

Problem is, it takes the acetone quite awhile to actually loosen the bond, especially if you've been pressing your thumb onto ceramic as hard as you can for 15 seconds. So meanwhile, I'm beginning to panic. Will I be stuck to this pig forever? I'm trying to gently pry, but that's a pretty painful option. Should we cut off a section of my thumb? (You may be thinking to yourself that we could break the majority of the pig off of me, and then I'd just be stuck to a small portion. You're forgetting that a 4-year-old girl is standing by as witness, and she's far more fretful over the state of her piggy bank than her mommy's thumb.)

So as I'm envisioning a humiliating trip to the ER, wondering how to nurse a baby while attached to a large pig, and being asked if I can still make dinner with one hand, finally, the acetone kicked in, and my thumb came right off. Ahhhhh.

The good news is, I certainly never have to worry about my daughter playing with Super Glue. I think she's scarred for life. And as for the pig's prognosis? That is yet to be determined.

Perhaps you're now a bit more grateful for that uneventful evening you had last night?

Ok, I know I'm biased...

2007-09-20T21:26:00.000-07:00

...but is she not just the cutest little smoochie-face? This mommy has a hard time not slurping her right up, whale spout and all! Alas, she turned 8 months old yesterday. Is it just me, or was I live-blogging her birth just days ago? Sigh. Babies are like puppies; they grow up way too quickly.

Elizabeth is very interactive now, sitting up well, and fine-tuning her mommy's-milk-and-sweet-potato detector. She seems to bring joy to everyone whose path she crosses. Whoever said that if you have more than a couple of babies they won't get enough attention must've never seen smothering siblings in action!

A fun idea for kids: Rainbow crayons

2007-09-20T05:14:00.000-07:00

The other day I remembered a fun little activity my mom helped me with as a kid, and we decided to try it out: making rainbow crayons.

Supplies needed:

*Broken crayons
*an aluminum baking pan, any size

Have the kids gather all the little broken bits of crayons from their stash. (You may not want to use too many dark, "blah" colors (like brown), because they tend to overpower the end result.) Then, have them peel the wrappers off and place the broken bits in an aluminum pan. We happened to have a fun little mini-loaf size on hand, but if you have enough crayons even a brownie pan size will do. Meanwhile, preheat your oven to, oh, I don't know...hot. Let's say between 250-350 degrees.

Once the pan bottom is mostly covered with crayon bits, place it in a hot oven until it all liquefies, about 5 minutes. (You will know when it's liquid because if your kids are like mine, they will plaster themselves to the oven window staring in the whole time.) Note: you may notice a funny smell while melting occurs. If it's not coming from your baby's diaper, it's probably just the crayons.

Once liquid, remove the pan from the oven and place it on a flat surface in your refrigerator, on top of a hot pad. (What? You don't have a flat surface in there? Me neither, but you'll have to use this as a motivation to clean out your fridge while the crayons are melting. Yes, I know that takes more than 5 minutes, but at least clear a little spot.)

Allow the melted crayons to firm back up and cool completely. This takes about 30 minutes. Gently pop the rainbow chunk crayon out of the pan, and after admiring and caressing its smooth underbelly, break it into pieces. If it's thin enough, the kids may enjoy breaking it themselves.

Voila! A fun, free little craft, something to keep them occupied for quite some time, and a perfect way to rid yourself of all those annoying little pieces of crayon that are otherwise useless. And if you're Type A like me and don't usually allow your kids to peel their color wrappers off, they'll be so excited that you're actually asking them to!

What parent can't relate to THIS one??

2007-09-17T19:47:00.001-07:00

Pregnancies, pregnancies everywhere...

2007-09-17T10:48:00.000-07:00

...and for once it's not me!! HA! I'll bet I got some of you, huh?

No, actually, I'm quite enjoying the idea that I'm not pregnant right now after spending so much of the last 3 years with a baby belly. It's kinda nice to actually let my body take a little breather for awhile.

But I AM really excited for the four, yes FOUR friends who announced their pregnancies this week! All of them are due within weeks of each other in late March/early April 2008. Babies seem to come in spurts like that, don't they? You can never have just one pregnant friend at a time.

So Cathryn, Giselle, Janice, and Shelley---CONGRATULATIONS! Janice is expecting #4, the others are going on #2. What fun!

Smart girl

2007-09-16T14:47:00.000-07:00

My dad's in town staying with us for a few days. This morning, as the kids came downstairs ready for church, Dad remarked to hubby, "Boy, Garfield...I hope you plan to have a big, heavy stick." Garfield replied, "Why? To keep the boys away from my daughters?"

Before Dad had the chance to answer, Emma, whom no one realized was listening, piped up, "No, but Daddy's got a sword, and that's even better!"

She's right, of course.

Potential suitors, en guard!

You must've been a beautiful baby...

2007-09-09T21:17:00.001-07:00

If the saying "you are what you eat" is true,

then meet my little Sweet Potato