Blessed

Now what do I do?

2012-01-27T06:27:00.000-08:00

It's a girl!

I don't know nothin' 'bout raisin' no girls! OK I am one, so I know a little bit about it, but ribbons and bows and ponytails will all be new to me. Dollies and barbies and make-up to follow. Boys calling up, teenage drama, paying for a wedding, all this and more!

I have always wanted a daughter. I love my mom so much and we have great times talking, and shopping for one hour before quitting that nonsense, and sending mushy cards. I adored my Grandma and so looked forward to hearing her say, "Well look who's here!" whenever we came to visit. She took me to have my "colors done" and always enjoyed my fashion sense when I actually had one.

And oh, being a Daddy's girl and having him call me "Amy girl," and watching him come to my dance recitals as well as my swim meets which were certainly more "interesting" for him. I'm sad that our little girl won't have her Papa Bruce here on earth to wrap around her finger. I'm certain he would happily attend some more ballet recitals.

Yet believe it or not, and I'm a little surprised, I'm sad that my baby boy days are over! I feel a niggling sense of loss that I won't have another baby boy to love his mama to pieces. LB was so mad last night when we told him the baby was a girl and not a boy. He won't get to have a baby brother to show the ropes. But can you imagine how sweet they will be with a baby sister? They'll be going off to college when she is in middle school and I can just picture their homecomings and giving their baby sister major teasing and big love.

So we're dreaming a little bit now. I don't know how to have a baby girl, but I know we'll learn. There are so many boys in our lives and our neighborhood I have a feeling this little pink bundle is going to get a lot of love and attention.

Now if I can just win over her big brother LB who would rather eat his pizza then talk about a little sister...

Bittersweet day.

2012-01-25T14:44:00.001-08:00

I had a best friend. She was beautiful and funny and smart. She saw me through some hard times and I her. Then she died, last year on this date. The world is a little grayer without her, and yet I am so thankful to have known her. I have laughed and cried for her today and I am so sad that she is not here to be my earthly friend any more. I believe I will see her again some day in heaven, but it still hurts.

And yet tomorrow is the Big Day. Excitement mingles with the sadness of what today marks in history. Tomorrow we'll hear "It's a boy!" or "It's a girl!" and the world will shine a lighter brighter. Which will it be? Johnna would be glad that something joyous is coming despite the sadness of this day, January 25th.

Looks like the majority vote girl! We'll see. Johnna sure loved boys, and then she had her daughters. I wonder if she already knows what kind of baby this will be. No matter what, we'll have a lot to look forward to.

You know I'll let you know! Now off to Dominos for another "Mommy is too tired to cook" meal. :-)

When our first-born was first born.

2012-01-15T14:10:00.000-08:00

We were in shock. What's this? A baby? And we take him home, like by ourselves, and then what? No kidding.

We'd tried for over three years to get pregnant and finally had enough tests and needles and catheters. We moved on to adoption in October of 2005 and exactly 364 days later, on our 4th anniversary, got The Call!

BB came home 16 days after that and we were parents.

It was very hard. We loved him from the first minute we set eyes on him but it did take me a month and a half or so to really bond with him and feel like Mommy. It only took one projectile vomiting onto my shoulder and one night terror, and that's when I knew that I would die for this boy - he was my baby.

And her baby. BB had a first mother, a birth mother. I worried about her. Was she OK? Was she heartbroken? Would she regret her decision? Our adoption agency advised her and us that it might be an easier adjustment if we spent 4-6 weeks without contact in order to get used to our roles.

About five weeks later we met at Thanksgiving. K had been holding BB and then gave him to me. That's when he puked all over me. She laughed, we laughed. It was like my Christening. We have enjoyed a great relationship over these past five years. We see her as often as we can manage it, and it's not enough.

We were totally unprepared for the nitty gritty of parenting. We were totally prepared for the grateful and loving feelings we had. We were totally prepared for cute outfits and late-night feedings. We were not prepared to put that baby in a stroller and wear circles in our flooring trying to get him to sleep. We weren't prepared for Randy to be up at 3am trying to put together a baby papasan chair in order that the boy may sleep (that didn't work). We weren't prepared to travel with a newborn who wouldn't take a pacifier but screamed without it.

We had so many warm, loving moments and also many "What were we thinking" ones! It's hard to go from a well-rested family of two to a sleep deprived family of three in just two short weeks. Looking back, the most salient memories are taking him to church for the first time, his first overalls, being able to participate in Mommy discussions, and all of the meals our friends graciously brought us! But I do remember with equal clarity screaming at the top of my lungs, "Go to sleeep!" and the time I thought to myself, "Please don't let Cathy Anderson be standing outside my door right now with her lovely meal after hearing me scream at my sweet, fussy baby." She wasn't. (Hooray.)

Newborns are not easy for me. I value my sleep and sanity too much. My favorite age with BB was from about 10 months on, when I began to see his funny, inquisitive personality emerge. By then I was out-to-here pregnant with LB! That is another story still to come. You'll have to come back to hear.

I think it's official!

2012-01-14T08:47:00.000-08:00

Granted, evening belly is always bigger than morning belly, but I think I've officially popped out. This is me at 17 weeks pregnant, awaiting the big gender reveal in less than two weeks!

So am I still infertile?

Yes and no. I think once you've been through a world-altering experience like infertility, it never totally goes away. I spent 4 years of my life feeling like I was unable to do what a woman is "supposed to" do - have babies. It's now been 5 years since those longing-filled, childless days, and the deep feelings have faded to heartfelt memories - present but not acute; scar but not an open wound.

I was not vocal at all about my pregnancy with LB on this blog five years ago. It felt to me like I was giving a slap in the face to my IF sisters still waiting. I think a lot of us IF gals feel that way when our dreams of pregnancy or parenting are being fulfilled - like it's something we shouldn't talk about too much because we remember how much hurt it brought to us when we were hearing about others' fulfilled dreams.

But then I began to wonder if that silence somehow diminishes the miracles that are children. There are many kinds of miracles, not just children, that's not what I mean. But somehow I felt like I could celebrate LB less because he was our biological child and BB more because he was adopted. That's funny, because people always seem to think that parents favor biological children over adopted children, and here I was making a much bigger deal over BB's adoption than LB's birth. I felt way more comfortable rejoicing publicly over BB.

So now it's five years later and I'm obviously not keeping silent about this pregnancy. I guess maybe because I've been parenting now for five years and have come to learn wholeheartedly that all children are a blessing no matter how they come into this world or into one's family. I am very excited to welcome a new baby into my family. It's a great family. Welcome, Babykins!

Please don't think that I am through being sensitive toward women experiencing infertility. It's an extremely difficult, life-changing experience and the last thing I want to do is add to someone's pain! I know it's hard to hear about sometimes, and I also know that I can only be responsible for my feelings and responses, not those of others. I bore the burden of infertility for years, and it was hard. It's not my personal burden any more, but infertility ministry is still a passion of mine. I still want to cushion others' feelings as best I can. But I can't always. I probably will be a thorn in someone's flesh at some point. That's where God's love and comfort come in - where humans' fail.

So what do you think? If you experienced infertility and are now parenting, do you still feel infertile? What do you do about those feelings? How do you honor your children while still being sensitive to your waiting friends or friends who are families of two and whose lives don't revolve around feeding, clothing, and teaching young children in their home? Talk amongst yourselves.

Am I too old?

2012-01-06T17:16:00.000-08:00

Apparently not - I'm pregnant, aren't I?

I was at the park today with some moms that were of course much, much younger than me ;o) (30s), one of whom is pregnant and due in April. We talked about age a little and which MOPS we'll try to go to so we're not the only ones who remember VHS tapes, and how unimportant maternity fashion is to us.

Of course I know that I am a little older than most moms, but there are plenty of us late 30's and early 40's moms out there. So we went on and watched our kids play as we talked, and eventually a couple with a 20-month-old baby boy came to the sand area. The mom was obviously pregnant and about as far along as me as far as I could tell. After awhile the family walked behind us and the mom said, "How old ARE you"?"

She didn't really. But my friend did say with a smile after the woman had walked by, "She's not in our age group," and she probably wasn't. It just made me giggle. It's nice to have a kindred spirit.

That all being said, I don't feel like an older mom. I'm just a mom doing the best I can. I have plenty of mom friends who are a decade or more younger than me, and some of us have a lot in common. Some of us don't, and that's fine too. I don't feel awkward around young moms, but I do like to joke about it. I might as well, I earned my age and I get to poke fun of myself if I want to.

Sure there are risks at having a baby after 40, but there are always risks. We've decided not to do any screening for genetic abnormalities - we'll find out soon enough. With Andrew we did a few of those tests for peace of mind, but at my age the risk of a false positive is significant and I'd rather not spend the rest of my pregnancy worried about what problems our baby may or may not have. At our big ultrasound on the 26th any major abnormalities will be noticeable and we can investigate further then if we want to. But I know we wouldn't terminate so really, what's the point.

Morbid much? Not really. Just letting ya'll know that we trust the Lord and what He has planned for us. We've learned well enough that we are not in control of our fertility or our children's characteristics beyond basic responsibility, and that is the beauty of trusting in God and the perfection of our eternal, permanent home.

How old are you, anyway?

Pink or Blue? Take my poll to the right!

2012-01-05T18:08:00.001-08:00

Do I want a girl? Yes.

Maybe.

I just went to kiss my boys goodnight. Daddy is the greatest and puts the boys to bed 90 percent of the time, tonight being no exception (except maybe Randy is the exception, he's such an expert tucker-inner), and I can't imagine loving another baby like I love them. BB was so sleepy tonight he just said, "Ni-night, Mommy," and drifted off. LB, however, held on to me and patted my back.

He patted my back like I was the baby and he was taking care of me. Boys love their mamas. How can I resist another one of those?

I went for a midwife appointment today and she checked for the heartbeat on the doppler. It was 152. According to wives-tales, that might just indicate a girl. Or a boy! Ha! I already have two boys, though, so won't I have another one? Remember I only birthed one of those boys, though, so statistically my chances of having a girl are...50/50. I don't know much about math, but I got that one.

Although the probability right now that I am having one or the other is 100%. Gender is determined by 16 weeks. If they'd done an ultrasound today they could have told us pink or blue. Now we'll just have to wait for three weeks until the next Big Reveal!

What do you think? Sugar and spice or snakes and snails?

I'm back!

2012-01-04T06:34:00.000-08:00

Bloggy Bloggerson, here with big news. I'm pregnant. I'm 41, my boys are about to start Kindergarten one year after the other, and we'll have a new baby in da house this summer. OK, I'm up for it!

I assume most people who I haven't talked to in awhile figure we'd been TTC for however long for this baby. Nope. A few years ago, on our way to the horse races, we had a discussion about letting God plan our family (you know, like the Duggars but without 20 children). Randy said, "Ixnay on the ormay ildrenchay," not in those exact words. That was fine with me, two little toddlers under the age of 3 felt like plenty!

I wasn't quite ready to totally give up the idea of ever having more children, although age and fertility were not on our side, but we pretty much figured we were done. Without going into too much detail, we were careful(ish) about timing and let it be. We were content with two.

Whenever a friend or acquaintance announced a pregnancy or birth we laughed, "Good luck with that, friend!" we thought as we slept through the night. Midnight trips to the bathroom for me made me think, "I'm so glad I get to go right back to bed instead of tending to a baby now." Laugh we did - right up until October 17.

October 12 was our 9th anniversary. We went to have Thai food and play Trivial Pursuit at the coffee shop. The Thai food was very spicy, which typically doesn't bother me, but aside from the burning tongue it made my heart race. This is not a typical reaction for me with spicy food. I thought, "Eh, probably nothing."

On Saturday we went to Sea World and on the way out the door Randy said, "I need to take the Pack N' Play to Goodwill to get it out of our garage." By this point I figured I was about three days late, which isn't typical for me, either. I was beginning to wonder, and figured I'd better know for sure before Mr. Standridge carted off the baby's bed.

The next day I had big plans to buy a Home Pregnancy Test from the grocery store. When I found out I was pregnant with Andrew I tested in the bathroom of the Bank of America, so this time I figured I would wait until I got home for the Big Reveal. And a big reveal it was.

Many women plan sweet, elaborate ways to tell their husband they are expecting. There were no sweet elaborations for me this time - last time either, for that matter. Both of these pregnancies were so surprising to me I was still in shock when I told my Dear Husband, who was equally shocked each time, perhaps this time more that last.

After puttering around in the kitchen in a pregnant haze, and after initially planning to tell him after the boys had gone to bed, I couldn't take it any longer. I asked him to go outside with me for a minute so I could talk to him about something. "Something" - um, yeah.

I cried. I did cross my mind that he would not be happy. But he's such a champ, he just hugged me and told me he loved me. An unplanned pregnancy, at our age? It makes me giggle just thinking about it. Our God is a funny God. We wore around the idea for about a week before we really embraced it. Not that we were upset, but it was a shift in plans for us.

There was one night a few days after I found out that I was crying my little hormonal eyes out in the bedroom when Randy came in and asked what was wrong. "I ruined our family," I said. We had a good thing going and it was now going to change. Mixed emotions ran rampant. Now though, I think, what a sweet little family this baby will be born into.

Our boys are so excited about being big brothers. Erik wants a baby sister named Emily or a baby brother named Elliott. Andrew wants a baby brother named KooPoo. I think maybe we'll stick with a more classic name, though. With Andrew, we didn't find out what kind of baby he was going to be until the minute he was born. This time I think we're going to find out. I'll start a poll. We'd love to have a little girl of course, but I think this time I care less about that than I did with either of our boys. Plus, boys sure love their mamas!

So here we are, 16 weeks pregnant and doing fine. The end of this month we will find out pink or blue. Welcome back to my blog - times they are a'changing.

Book Review Numero Tres

2011-09-02T18:02:00.000-07:00

This Pooped Out Parent Recommends

Pam Vredevelt delivers a piping-hot cup of encouragement in this entertaining, easy read. I found myself enthralled in her stories and unable to put the book down. I plan to buy a copy for a fellow pooped out parent friend of mine. I think it will be especially encouraging to her as a mom of a child with special needs. I loved how Vredevelt shared precious insights from her own similar experiences.

I read another of Vredevelt's works before I became a parent and struggled with infertility and miscarriage. It was especially comforting as a now pooped out parent to read "Espresso" both for reassurance that I'm a good-enough parent and as a reminder to remember whence I came as a woman longing for a child. (Shameless plug for "Empty Arms" here.)

One of my favorite stories where in chapter 15 Vredevelt writes about her first talk show appearance, all of the little things that went wrong and how she handled them with the Holy Spirit's leading. As the story of each mishap unfolds, she repeatedly states, "Oh well, it was a nice plan..." and then goes on to reveal how God worked out all of those unplanned moments for good. I find myself encountering many similar situations where life does not work out according to my plan. This reminds me to laugh at myself and my misguided illusions of control. Vredevelt's gentle humor adds to the effectiveness of many of her stories.

At the end of "Espresso for Your Spirit," Vredevelt adds "Koffee Klatch Questions" for parents who would like to read EFYS as a group and discuss. I think it would make a good book club choice but not necessarily a weekly group since there are 28 chapters in this book and many of them are quite short.

I would be thrilled to sit down for a cuppa joe with Pam Vredevelt any time.

I received this book from Waterbrook Multnomah Publishing Group in exchange for this honest review. All opinions are my own.

I worked!

2011-08-29T10:59:00.001-07:00

And guess what? I missed it.

Five years ago I had a wee private practice where I did some music therapy with a few individuals, either in school or in their home. When BB was born and we had two weeks to prepare, I quickly found some therapists to take my clients. I intended to go back to work a little bit when he was 6-8 months old.

Four months later I was shockingly pregnant with our little unexpected miracle! "So much for going back to work," I thought, oh well. Now it's been almost 5 years since I've worked (outside the home, that is). And today, I "worked" for 30 minutes. Really I observed the music therapist for whom I'm temporarily taking a client, but I got paid. Um, well I didn't really get paid because I had to put my kiddos in childcare for an hour while I observed, and now I'm sitting in a coffee shop while they're still in childcare.

But I used my brain. Neat. Weird.

So I'll be working one clinical hour a week, which combined with driving and paperwork probably ends up being more like three hours a week. Gosh that does not sound like much, does it? But I'm keeping my feet wet and helping some folks at the same time.

I missed it, and also realized that I'm a pretty good music therapist. I can think on my feet, although I probably rely on this ability a bit much, I can play a lot of songs on the guitar confidently, I am fun and yet I expect participation, and I am able to see through the disability to the un-disabled soul underneath. We all have special needs, don't we? And we all have the desire to be understood and valued by others. We were all created by God for a specific purpose.

What's yours?

Worlds Collide, by Alison Strobel

2011-08-27T10:52:00.000-07:00

Salvation, Hollywood-style.

I've been doing a lot of reading lately, and I find three categories of books. Some books sit on my bookshelf that I mean to read but never get past the first few pages. Other books sit on my bedside table that I read a chapter or two, put down for a few days, and pick back up a few days later. Then there are books that I pick up, carry around with me, and read every free moment until it is finished. Worlds Collide by Alison Strobel was this last kind of book for me.

Grace Winslowe is a midwestern girl in a dead end job and an equally doomed live-in relationship. She packs up and moves to California for a new, sunshiney life, and discovers through friends the soul-satisfying and joy-filled life that accompanies a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I can relate to this girl since I pretty much lived that same life myself for more years than I choose to remember. She meets Jack Harrington, a famous Hollywood actor who lives what seems like the stereotypical celebrity life of relationship hopping and the trappings of fame and fortune. The rest of the story chronicles their relationship and spiritual journey together.

There is a fair amount of “missionary dating” in this book where the characters become involved with each other without the spiritual commonality of Christianity, only to both find their way to a shared faith. I thought the outcomes of these relationships were a little bit hopeful and too good to be true, but they certainly made a satisfying fictional story. I rooted for the characters to come together, as I tend to do, and voila, they did. I'm not so certain these kinds of relationships really turn out that way in real life – call me a cynic (oh gosh, I'm really not but anyway).

I loved reading Alison Strobel after having read a little bit of Lee Strobel's A Case for Faith. I could hear what I imagine to be the influence of his teachings on her story, and it made for a more realistic picture of the questions lifetime non-believers like Grace, Jack, and their biography writer Jada would have about Christianity. I appreciated how Strobel approached the metamorphosis of the non-believer into a follower of Jesus Christ.

There were several times I thought to myself that this would be a great book to recommend to a non-believer seeking the truth about Christianity, and I just might. I really enjoyed this book and look forward to reading more from Strobel in the future. I wonder if I will be able to relate so well to the characters in her other works.

I received this e-book from Waterbrook Multnomah's Blogging for Books for free for my honest review of this e-book.

Adoption - It's a Miracle!

2011-08-19T17:10:00.000-07:00

Join me over on www.hannahsprayerblog.blogspot.com for the story of how God orchestrated our adoption. Pregnancy is a miracle too, and every adoption story involves one!

My first Blogging for Books review!

2011-08-18T17:41:00.001-07:00

"Bad Girls of the Bible" by Liz Curtis Higgs

Ooh, Liz Curtis Higgs, you know how to dig in to the Bible and draw out these women. I feel like I know these ladies personally after reading this book, and I can see my own bad self in plenty of them. I especially respect how the first character, Ruthie, was based on Higgs's own experience. If you've lived it, put it on out there for others to relate to. I believe our Christian witness is so much more powerful when we let it all hang out and reveal how God has changed us and saved us.

Each of the characters, and I hate to call them characters because they are really historical figures, has a lesson to teach us. I think that even if we think we have done most things "right," we can still see our less desirable qualities in these Bad Girls.

Whether "Bad to the Bone," "Bad for a Season, but Not Forever," or "Bad for a Moment," Ms. Higgs makes these women contemporarily relevant as she interprets the Scriptures surrounding their stories. Each chapter is a fictionalized account of a Biblical femme fetale followed by an insightful, honest, and sometimes humerous analysis of the Scripture.

After each fictional account and Scriptural study there are "What Can We Learn" and "Good Girl Thoughts Worth Considering" sections that are certainly thought-provoking. It's easy to judge some of these lovelies and think, "Pfft - I'm not like that, I can't relate," but Ms. Higgs makes it a point to find aspects of each character that even the Good Girl can relate to!

You will see yourself in some of these characters, I promise. Myself, I'm something like Eve and Lot's wife, wanting something more out of my life than the bounty with which God has blessed me. I'm something like Ruthie and Rahab, having made some bad decisions regarding men and believing the lie that I wasn't worth any more to God than I was to my guys. If I really care to dive in, I can even relate to the wicked Jezebel - self-seeking and sharp-tongued. Ouch. Thanks, Higgs.

This God-reformed Bad Girl appreciated this book and will absolutely read more of Liz Curtis Higgs's work in the future.

Do you want to blog for books? http://waterbrookmultnomah.com/bloggingforbooks/

Follow Me

2011-08-01T06:49:00.000-07:00

Follow me to Held, a blog for Christian women who long for children. I'm up today as a guest blogger.

Creation

2011-07-24T13:13:00.000-07:00

I'm dying to create something! When I'm out and about I have so many big ideas about all of the projects I would like to do. Then I get home and sit around facebooking all my limited free time away. Poof! Time over.

God created the universe in six days, and on the seventh day he rested. How did he do that? I'd just like an hour to make a necklace or knit a couple rounds. My spirit and my fingers crave it, creating, and I'm not sure where that comes from.

Or maybe I do! God created beauty. He created the sun, moon, stars, flowers, and humanity. Jesus created eternal life for us when He died our sinner's death on the cross. The Holy Spirit creates a fertile ground in our hearts for the Lord to reach us and reach others. It is in our human nature as images of God to create things ourselves.

How are you creative? I like to work with my hands and with words. I like to work with people and with pictures. A scientist might create theories, equations, and inventions. A sales clerk creates a friendly environment and a retail experience. A teacher creates motivated students.

Sometimes I create pretty objects with yarn and beads and good behaviors and habits in my children. Other times I create havoc in my life as I utter the excuse, "I'm just not good at (cleaning, structuring my time, reading devotionals, insert your M.O.)." But what I forget is that I can use God's help in doing those things I'm not good at, and in improving my abilities to do things that I am good(ish) at.

I'm good at Facebook, but I maybe I ought to spend more quality time following through with the plans I always seem to make when it feels like my world is a little bigger than the kitchen counter where I keep my laptop.

He's Not Here

2011-07-03T09:49:00.000-07:00

It is cool in Colorado! I haven't felt cooled in weeks, not since the last time I was here in May. The gang's all here - all of the cousins, my brother and I, our mom, and our spouses. A full house! And yet, not. We are flying in Missing Man formation this week. Daring to choose to move forward in love and life-affirming actions like tennis-playing, concert-going, and general merrymaking. We will grill salmon, roast s'mores, watch fireworks, attend a Fourth of July parade in town, and love each other.

Someone is missing and it is noticeable. Who is going to go get breakfast pastries in the morning? Who will wash the dishes? Who will scoop the ice cream? Who will plan the hikes? We all will! But we miss our patriarch. I miss my daddy.

I lay in bed this morning and tried to "channel" him. No not in a divine sort of way, but in order to capture a memory, a sense, a feeling that he is here in spirit, which of course he is. His smile, him wrestling with the five boys, his digging in to a fresh turkey sandwich on the trail. His voice, with a lilt of joy and always a twinkle in his eye.

Then I look around and see all of us doing the things that my dad would want us to do! Having fun, planning walks, running on the deck, eating salmon from the grill. And in a way he is here.

I don't think I've ever been happier to get here than I was the other day. The fresh, cool mountain air, the memories of the first time my dad drove me up the mountain and over the bumpy roads on the way to the house. "You might be tempted to turn left here," he said. I always am tempted to turn left there, but I never do. Dad told me not to.

We miss you, Dad, we love you so much. We're having fun, Dad, in honor of you and because you taught us how.

Bug Hunters.

2011-06-23T19:51:00.000-07:00

Summer in Texas is not the time to play outside in the park. It is SO hot most afternoons that we really need to go in the morning if we're going to go at all. Until one day last week when it was supposed to be 92 rather than 102 and we decided to meet some friends at the park for lunch after VBS.

Imagine me sitting there peacefully eating my lunch when LB brings me a nice, big, dead, beetle. "Look, Mom! It's dead!"

"Neat!" I replied in my usual tone, actually thinking it was a little bit neat. It was a three-horned beetle and it was dead, so who cared that it was on my lunch table? BB crushed the thing on the ground and it was over.

A few minutes later LB comes again and says, "Look Mom, another one!" But this one wasn't dead. It was on its last 6 legs for sure, moving very slowly, but that sucker was a live beetle on my picnic table. He crawled over the edge and I figured we were done with that. Bye-bye, beetle!

Ahem.

A minute later BB came back with the beetle and said, "A zombie beetle!" He had sawed off the beetle's head with a plastic spoon and the beetle continued to walk around like nothing doing. A zombie beetle indeed!

I shiver to think of it, but I also think it's pretty cool. There was a time I wasn't sure we'd have any little boys doing this kind of little boy thing, and now we have two! And as I'm learning to rejoice in the Lord always (Philippians 4:4), I guess I can rejoice in a headless beetle interrupting my picnic lunch.

(Shudder)

Come Have a Laugh with Us on Held!

2011-05-18T05:40:00.000-07:00

Aren't you just a little bit curious as to why on earth I would wear a crown to the OB/GYN? Don't worry, the post is about the tiara and not the doctor (although he plays a minor role in the story)!

When life gives you lemons, make lemon-merangue pie!

Mother's Day

2011-05-08T15:26:00.000-07:00

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18.

I am having a lovely Mother's Day. I got to sleep in, eat some chorizo and some frozen yogurt (not together), and pick up a new book at the library. I'm about to eat hamburgers with my family. It's a good day!

But there are many women today who are broken-hearted. They've lost mothers, children, pregnancies, and the dream of having children. My heart and prayers goes out to those ladies.

My best friend died unexpectedly in January. Her mom is missing one of her chicks today. Sweet Kristi is missing her babies Naomi, Kyria, and Jordan today. Many other women, personal, beautiful friends of mine from Hannah's Prayer Community Forums (and other non-disclosed locations) have aching hearts and arms today, longing for children or grieving the loss of the dream of having children. I love you and pray for you.

Jesus says, I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. (John 10:10b.) I pray for abundant joy today for these ladies, joy that makes no sense in terms of life's circumstances, but joy that will make perfect sense in the arms of Jesus when He comes.

I love my mom and my mother-in-law today, and the other women who have mothered me over the years - Lovettia, Anita, Robbie, and others. And even Jennifer who is WAY too young to be my mother! Happy mother's day to you incredible women. I am blessed.

Gracie the Wundercat

2011-04-29T11:00:00.000-07:00

Get this. I've just been interviewed for a cat magazine about the life of Gracie the Wundercat!

If you remember, one fine winter day in 2010 my little guys and I were frolicking in the back yard after a long winter's nap when we heard a pitiful mew coming from the back of our fence. With a neighbor's help, we rescued a fluffy grey kitten from the fence, got her to the vet, and eventually had to have her right front paw amputated at the shoulder.

We named her Gracie. Partly because it seemed like a funny name for a three-legged cat. But also, because to me she is a reminder of God's grace to us when he finds us dirty and broken from our sin, rescues us, and adopts us as His children, His gift to His son Jesus Christ! By grace we are saved, through faith, so that no one can boast (Ephesians 2:8-9).

Look at her now! She is beautiful, isn't she? She may or may not remember her feral past like I do. (Mine, that is.) She still makes messy mistakes that are hard for us to clean up, although we always do. We love her and care for her because she is ours.

Are you His?

Adopt and you probably still won't get pregnant!

2011-04-25T07:28:00.001-07:00

Infertility myth: Adopt and you'll get pregnant.

How many times have you heard someone say, "My friend's cousin's sister-in-law and her husband tried for years to get pregnant. They finally adopted a son, then a daughter. They never did conceive. Isn't that amazing?"

You say you’ve never heard that story? Why not? Because it's totally non-sensationalistic. It makes sense. A couple cannot conceive, so they decide to adopt. Some families with biological children do continue to grow by adoption, but other times a couple does not consider adoption until spending some time and effort conceiving children to no avail. That is how it was for us.

After three years of infertility my husband and I began the adoption process. We decided that we were more interested in being parents than we were in parenting a jointly conceived child. Four months after adopting our amazing son BB, I took a pregnancy test in a Bank of America bathroom and discovered that after four years of infertility, I was pregnant.

Soon the comments began. "You hear about this happening all the time," and "See, you relaxed about having a baby and then you got pregnant," and "I knew this would happen." I know people mean well, I really do. I always pray to respond from a place of grace.

I pick my battles. Sometimes I say, "Yes, it does happen," and sometimes I cite the statistics, "Actually, only 5-10% of parents who adopt due to infertility go on to conceive and bear children." And sometimes, perhaps not often enough, I present the answer I believe the strongest.

I believe that we were able to conceive after years of infertility and adoption because God meticulously planned it out just so.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future."(Jeremiah 29:11)

If we had conceived when we desperately wanted to, we would not have BB as our son. If we had conceived when we desperately tried to, BB would not have us as his parents. God knew the plans He had for us and for our firstborn son.

God also planned for LB, born one year and four days after our first, to be his little brother. He needed our DNA to make LB. He needed another man and woman's DNA to make BB. BB was not means to an end to get LB - they were both meant for us.

When I tell people our story four years later, I almost always hear the same comment. “That happens all the time. Why do you think that is?”

I should always respond, “Because God said so.”

http://www.resolve.org/infertility101

Join us!

2011-04-15T07:29:00.000-07:00

Check out my gorgeous new button for Held! See it? See it?

Eight years ago, in the thick of infertility, I set out to find a community of Christian women suffering from this dark and often hidden disease. I found Hannah's Prayer! Soon after joining I discovered I was pregnant, only to lose that baby very early.

The women at Hannah's Prayer became my lifeline and some beautiful IRL friends, supporting me through miscarriage, my subsequent 3 years of infertility, adoption loss, and adoption. I now count infertility as one of God's biggest blessings on my life, partly because I would never have met these godly women without having experienced it.

I can't take any credit for this new outreach at all, because God is the author of our faith and experience, but I'm humbled to be a part of this new blog! I just know it is going to minister to many women. Maybe to you, my sweet sister.

Right now we're "open" for a sneak peek, and we're officially launching with content on April 25th, a few weeks before the most dreaded and anticipated holiday for the infertile women - Mother's Day. We'll have posts about surviving Mother's Day (and even maybe enjoying it), primary infertility (infertility with no living children), secondary infertility (infertility after birth of a conceived child), adoption loss, adoption, "What Not to Say," advice for pastors and clergy, and above all encouragement and hope for the infertile woman.

He will yet fill your mouth with laughing,
And your lips with rejoicing.
Job 8:21

I'm just so excited! Come see!

Blessing me today.

2011-03-29T08:40:00.000-07:00

Take my hand

2011-03-19T14:58:00.000-07:00

I was a little numb at my dad's memorial service. It felt kind of like it wasn't really happening and I was having a hard time connecting. I still look back upon it in somewhat of a blur, but one beautiful image stands out in my mind. Oh, I sure wish I had a picture of it, because it was one of life's amazingly beautiful moments.

After the service when we were led out of the sanctuary, BB came to me and I reached for his hand. He is not a big hand-holder so I wasn't really sure he'd go for it, but he grabbed my hand briefly. My mom and some others walked ahead of us. BB looked at me and gently said, "No," and let go of my hand.

He walked up to my mom, looked up at her and gently reached for hers. He knew she needed his hand more than I. He wore a little suit with a vest and tie, his hair sweetly brushing the top of his collar. My mom wore a black velvet jacket over her simple knit skirt and top. I watched from behind as they walked down the stairs, around the corner, and down to the fellowship hall where lunch awaited.

Although I was a little foggy, this much is clear to me from that day. We have a sweet little boy who loves his Papa Bruce and Grandma. He is sweet like that because of his biological and adoptive parenthood. We are blessed.

Mother of Invention

2011-02-24T19:27:00.000-08:00

Today I took my two little boys on a date! We ate lunch at McDonald's, went to see Gnomeo and Juliet in the theater, and then splurged on ice cream! Yes folks, today I ate McDonald's, a whole bag of popcorn (I had to get LB his own popcorn or he would have eaten all of mine), and a dish (or maybe 1.5) of ice cream.

BB drinks a lot, which makes sitting through a movie a challenge. He made it through most of the movie but then at the end needed to go. LB was comfortably engrossed in the movie under a crocheted blanket I brought (thanks, Granny), and I certainly didn't want to leave at that point to take both boys to what always turns out to be a really long trip to the loo.

Because I had to bring so many warming items for our movie adventure I had to bring the diaper bag - which just happened to contain a pull-up. A lightbulb moment! BB agreed to wear the pull-up long enough to pee, and pee he did. The theater was pretty empty so I just changed him into and out of the pull-up right there in our seat. Voila!

We just threw out that puppy on the way out of the theater. Cute movie, by the way.

Silence

2011-02-19T18:40:00.001-08:00

I'm really tired. I think the events of the past few months have caught up with me. Also, I had a sick boy last week so I didn't get my two "days off." I had a good time hanging around with BB, though! We went to get the oil changed in the car and he thought that was "so fun." It made me look at the occasion with a fresh perspective. Then we went to the library, the farmer's market, and the grocery store - all of which were very exciting for the wee one.

Those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength (Isaiah 40:31). I think this is true. But I'm still tired. So far 40 hasn't been the happiest year of my life. My Nana died, my dad got sick, my best high school friend died, and my dad is still quite ill. It's not a pretty picture. And yet I will praise the Lord.

Habakkuk 3:17-20 states,

17 Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.

19 The Sovereign LORD is my strength;
he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
he enables me to tread on the heights.

Isn't that something? Even when things on earth look bleak, eternity does not. I still find joy in the day to day. My hope comes from the Lord.

Gorgois!

2011-02-12T18:58:00.000-08:00

Isn't it the most? Thelma has designed this beautiful new title picture for our blog. I just love it. Thank you so much, Thelma! First off, it's so creative and took a lot of time, I know. Secondly, it's just so...so...awesome! I am blessed yet again.

I can really appreciate beauty these days. When faced with death (a good friend) and illness (my dad), aesthetic beauty is not a luxury these days, it's a must. Randy asked me earlier today what I needed for myself today. I told him I just needed to experience something beautiful, and I have. My new header, yes, but also a perfect sunny day with a nice breeze and about the perfect temperature - 70 degrees.

Sometimes I feel like I am walking around in a fog. And then I remember that my joy comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth (Psalm 121:2), not from life's circumstances. God created the universe and He created me. I am my best when I am in close fellowship with Him. It's hard to be close to God when I'm on Facebook playing Scrabble and Scramble and whatever word game I can get my hands on. I feel much better when I am outside soaking up the sun and the Son.

So thanks, God, for sending Thelma to my rescue today! Talk about beauty.

Growing Pains

2011-02-07T16:55:00.000-08:00

Not the TV show, you silly, this blog. My new header picture is HUGE! Am I allowed to use our professional photographer's pictures like this? Do I need to attribute? Can I make it smaller? What is this blog anyway? Is it a parenting blog, a stream of consciousness blog an post-infertility blog? Do I have to define it? Should I try to? Do I have enough on my plate already? Enquiring minds want to know.

Today on our way home from an errand LB asked me, "Mommy, are we in our neighborhood?" Yes, I answered, we're in our neighborhood. He replied, "I don't think so. I think we're in Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood." I thought that was so funny. How clever! This is the kid who doesn't know the difference between a letter and a number and doesn't care, thank you very much. But he has mad skills, this little brother.

Yesterday morning we went for breakfast tacos before going to the zoo for the afternoon. In the car Randy and I were talking about letting our friends and loved ones know we care about them. LB raised his hand and said, "I have friends who I care about!" Samuel, he said. Samuel is a friend we care about, that's true. But how sweet. My little sweetheart. BB chose Grandma as a friend who he cared about.

Here is the part where, if I was really trying to host a great blog, I would tie in these conversations with my blog title. But I'm not going to. Instead, I'll self-depreciate so I can wiggle out of an editor-worthy finished product. I'll wrap it up, apply some jammies to a sweet angel, and move on downstairs for some housework, mindless TV, and an important phone call I've been planning. There will be time for a glamorous finished product tomorrow. Or 2012. Someday.

Sweetly Broken*

2011-02-05T18:25:00.000-08:00

I smell like frosting. Earlier LB smeared vanilla frosting from a friend's birthday cake all over my black sweater. It looked terrible, it was sticky, and I had to take time to clean it up. I was disappointed to have gotten dirty, as I was going to wear that sweater to sing in choir later. Yet now I smell like vanilla frosting. That's not such a bad deal.

Even when disappointing or painful things happen, sometimes you're left with something lovely that you didn't anticipate.

*(Sweetly Broken is a song by Jeremy Riddle)

We were on a break!

2011-01-29T21:21:00.000-08:00

Obviously I haven't been posting lately, but I haven't given up posting! I am in Iowa visiting my parents and just happened to be able to attend the funeral of a dear friend today. How sad.

I've had the chance to see my dad and he looks pretty good! He is alert but totally worn out from recent events. We think he is going to be getting stronger every day since the infections seem to be mostly gone and we have said good-bye to chemotherapy. He's getting radiation to continue to address those pesky brain lesions. One day a time is what we get, and each day is a new blessing.

Yesterday I got to cry with my dad for my friend. It was a special memory. He just held my hand while I wept. What a great dad - he didn't try to fix it (who could), he just held my hand. I love my dad.

Later, gater.

(This is an older picture of my dad. He still looks like that except lying down and both eyes open.)

When You're the Best of Friends.

2011-01-26T20:42:00.000-08:00

(This is a reprint of a Facebook note, so you may have already read it.)

She was the most loyal friend I've ever had. We met in the 10th grade and were instant best friends. It was a deep and loving friendship. There was a time when we were closer in distance that I would have said she was my heart. In fact, "The Wind Beneath My Wings" was a song I would have ascribed to her. "You were content to let me shine - that's your way," is a good quote to describe her.

When some older girls ganged up on me, Johnna stuck up for me and would have fought for me.

My dad called her Jonah. It was an inside joke. Sometimes I called her Johann because once an Army recruiter called her house looking for him.

When a boy broke my heart nine words from her summed it all up to me and brought me relief. "You weren't ready for it to end, were you." I wasn't. And I'm still not. Not where she is concerned.

There were times I did her wrong and betrayed our friendship. But she always took me back with open arms, no questions asked.

She came to my college graduation in California. She visited me in South Carolina several times when I lived there. My ex-husband was a jerk to her and yet she took it - for me. She gave me a beautiful topaz necklace as a wedding present and she wasn't even invited. She was in my heart, though. I was a terrible friend then, I was hurting and scared, but obviously she waited for me to come to my senses. Which I did and we resumed our friendship. She was a faithful friend.

I was a bridesmaid in her wedding. She was so generous she picked a style off the rack for bridesmaids dresses so we could actually wear them again. I wore it for years. I wish I hadn't finally donated it somewhere and that I could still wear it. I am wearing my beautiful necklace right now and probably won't take it off for awhile. I loved her. She was a considerate friend.

I remember when her sister Jamie let me know that Joshua had been born. I was in Colorado and called just to check up on Johnna. I visited Jaden in the hospital when he was a preemie. Johnna was so good with him and didn't seem nervous at all. "I cook 'em fast," she said. She had a chance to meet my kids that I thought might never come to be. We all ate at Hickory Park together. My youngest LB and her youngest Jessie were about the same age.

Time and physical distance took a toll on our friendship just like it does, but we were always ready and able to quickly pick up. Because of my dad's illness I've been back to Ames twice in the past few months and got to hang out with Johnna and her kids. They're such great kids and she was an amazing woman and mom.

I'm angry. I'm mad that she's gone. I'm jealous. Jealous that other people have memories with her too, and many that were made before she and I even met. And I'm sad. I can cover up my feelings in denial when I'm busy, but as soon as time stops a little bit I just can't believe she's gone. It's especially hard to look at pictures of her. I'm sure I'll go through some albums when I'm home for her funeral. Funeral. How sad.

I'm not ready to let it end.

Music Ministry

2011-01-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

I wish I could find a recording of this song online actually performed by Tommy Walker, but for now I just wanted to post these lyrics to a song that brings me great comfort. The actual song is awesome so I'll look for it more later.

I Will Not Be Shaken
By Jacob Park & Tommy Walker

He is my rock, my shield, my fortress
He’s my salvation and my strength
The cords of death, they were surrounding me
But He heard my cry for help

He is my refuge, my high tower
He’s my deliverer so strong
The snares of death, they were confronting me
But He heard my cry for help

Chorus
So I’ll stand and trust I’ll stand in faith I will not be shaken
Bridge
Our God will not be moved Our God will never change Our God will reign forevermore

Jacob Park, Tommy Walker / © 2009 Medic Music, WeMobile Music

Salvation Story Sunday

2011-01-22T18:04:00.001-08:00

We all have a story about how we became who we've become. An important part of my story is how I became a Christian after considering myself an atheist, at the very least agnostic. It's a long story, but to make it short there was a time before I married my oops husband that I was broken, hurt, and felt very small. A friend told me about Jesus and how he died for me, and that knowing that had brought her a lot of peace during a low point in her life. And she was so peaceful. And lovely. Her name was Genie.

I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior after attending church with Genie and her husband for a few Sundays, asking Him into my heart to save me from my sins. We all sin, folks, we call it making mistakes or errors in judgment, but it's sin all the same. Each morning when I woke up to get ready for work I read a chapter or two from the book of John. Each day on my way to work I would experience such great joy listening to praise music and knowing that however bad my earthly situation felt in my heart, the truth was I had a Savior and a God who would walk through it with me.

So off I went, with some little detours, into the world of church services and Bible studies, and eventually music ministry. There I met my husband and many wonderful friends, and I guess you might say I'm a big ol' Jesus freak now. I resemble that remark! It's not like I became the Church Lady overnight, I spent a few years being saved in Christ but not acting like it, but gradually I'm conforming to be more like Him.

Some people I knew before this change don't understand how this became so important to me. I sometimes speak "Christianease" that sounds weird to their ears. I get that! It sometimes sounds weird to me too if I am being honest. Words like "saved" and "my walk" and "the Holy Spirit showed me." It can be like a foreign language.

So without all the verbiage let me just say this: I felt scared and alone and Jesus brought me comfort. My life feels complete because I know that God loves me, and because of that love I can more fully love other people. The Bible promises that when I claim Jesus Christ as my Lord, the Spirit of God, called the Holy Spirit, is present in me always. The Holy Spirit interprets God's word and earthly situations from within my spirit. What others call a hunch or intuition I call the Holy Spirit. All that is good within me is what God has made good. He can make even bad things good. (Romans 8:28 again.)

This was a part of yesterday's post but I pulled it out in order to try to be more succinct. Maybe I'm starting a "Why am I This Way" series. I so, I should have started with "family," but honestly I'm going out with my husband tonight and I wrote most of this last night.

If you love Jesus, how did you find Him? What brought you to reach for His hand? If you're not into Him and would like to know more, email me. I would be thrilled to respond.

I wasn't always this way.

2011-01-22T17:43:00.001-08:00

Ever seen "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" Besides the fact that I think Leonardo di Caprio brilliantly portrayed a boy with a cognitive disability (Arnie Grape), there is a scene in the movie that both breaks and warms my heart.

Gilbert Grape's mother Bonnie is morbidly obese. She spends most of her time in her bed because she can barely walk. Gilbert's girlfriend Becky, played by Juliet Lewis, comes to visit and wants to meet Bonnie. The mother is lying pitifully in the bed and Becky sits down next to her. The mom says sadly, almost apologetically, "I wasn't always this way."

Becky's reply: "I wasn't always this way, either."

Let that sink in for a minute. I think it's so powerful.

How did you get this way? What are the experiences that have really shaped you? Mine are, in order of appearance, family, salvation, divorce, my forever husband Randy, infertility and now cancer. Half of those things are not fun things at all. But those are the things that have really shaped me.

I'd like to say I wouldn't want to trade any of them, but currently I'd like to trade in my dad's cancer for something nice. Maybe looking back someday I'll feel differently, and maybe I won't. We'll see. I do know that I can't take any of them back, and I wouldn't be "this way" had I not experienced those things, good and bad. I like being this way.

Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." I love this verse. It's one of my favorites. Notice it doesn't say that only good things will happen. It just means that no experience is wasted.

I want to know, what are the top three life experiences that have made you who you are?

Blog Wire

2011-01-21T21:02:00.000-08:00

I'm cutting it down to the wire here on my 19th day of blogging. It's 11:03 p.m. by my clock. I need to write earlier in the day so this kind of post ceases. Uncreativity abounds!

Miss Thelma recently listed some helpful articles about blogging like this one. Upon reading them it occurs to me that I might need to streamline my blog in order to improve upon it. Maybe I won't, because the goal of this blog isn't to become a well-read blog, but mostly a way for me to get down my thoughts and keep like a journal. However, the idea of sprucing things up around here is intriguing.

One thing that spruces up today's post is the awkward holiday photo! This just makes me giggle. Enjoy.

18 days in a row

2011-01-20T19:51:00.000-08:00

Have I made a new habit yet? I don't know! But I do know that I've enjoyed blogging a lot these past few weeks. A lot has gone on and it's been nice to process those things. I also think I have spent less time on Facebook since I've started back.

Tonight we're all home together. The weeks are really busy with Bible studies and music rehearsals and the support group, so Friday through Monday nights are usually the four evenings we all have free. We'll go back to that schedule next week. I know this is not going to get any less busy as the boys become involved in activities, so for the time being I really enjoy our nights at home.

Tonight we ate leftover chicken taco soup and watched American Idol. I think I fell in love with Jennifer Lopez a little. Now I'm just wrapping it up with a little extra mindless television watching, wondering if I should eat some ice cream or not. Has Randy already cleaned the litter box? Do I really have to fold the laundry tonight or can it wait until tomorrow?

I should get up and quit asking so many questions.

"I don't want you to cry, Mommy."

2011-01-19T13:12:00.001-08:00

Big Brother said this to me about 1/2 hour ago. Tuesday nights are late nights around here so I decided to enforce the non-negotiable nap time today. I'm pretty tired myself so I lay down with him. He takes a long time to fall asleep and kept telling me, "I love you, Mommy."

My dad isn't doing well. He could still bounce back, but we're only doing one day at a time and today doesn't look so good. But also it does. It looks beautiful because we are a family and we have had a billion wonderful memories together. We're not at odds and I know we have many more happy times ahead of us.

It's hard to know what is too much to tell a small child about illness and death. BB is a sensitive little guy and I think he's starting to get it, but that doesn't make it easier. He also said to me earlier, "I want you to be with me forever and not go to heaven." He has been praying for my dad and says, "Dear God, please let Papa Bruce grow up." He started talking about Papa Bruce a lot when I was lying down with him and as he began to settle I began to cry.

I cried out some beautiful memories - swimming with my dad when I was small, skiing with him as I grew up, and the time before Randy and I were engaged that we went intending for Randy to ask for my hand. It didn't quite happen that way but my hand he has and my dad approves big time. For awhile we weren't sure if my parents would ever be grandparents to our children, and they are. BB loves grandpas and it just breaks my heart that he might not have any in the near future. Randy's dad died of colon cancer years ago. BB doesn't remember him and LB never met him, but PawPaw and BB were kindred spirits. I attached a picture of BB reading a map because my dad's a map guy. They too are kindred spirits.

I'm not a total stranger to grief but this is really something. It is an indescribable pain. It feels sort of like being scheduled for an amputation and you don't know how you are going to be happy without your missing limb. You won't be the same and you'll have to learn how to do a lot of things differently. With cancer, on the one hand you have some time to wrap up loose ends (we now have none) and to tell one another how much you love each other. On the other hand, you watch that person slowly change and become different from the person you've known forever. It's a slowly dawning kind of grief that eventually feels unbearable. It's especially hard with all the back and forth that comes with a cancer diagnosis.

As I said, it's not over! My dad is still fighting. He has a blood infection and is very weak, but peaceful. I think the big question right now is do we continue the chemotherapy if he doesn't start to improve. It's all a little vague today. Tomorrow may hold some new information, or it may not. Then we wait another day.

Lamentations 3:22-23 (New Living Translation)

The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
His mercies never cease.
Great is his faithfulness;
his mercies begin afresh each morning.

In the meantime, we just breathe in and out and love each other. You do the same.

What Not to Wear

2011-01-18T21:22:00.000-08:00

I like this show. I think I actually liked Ambush Makeover better, but there is now AM anymore.

I love to see people reach their potential, especially the underdog. The poor folks on WNTW look so sad at first and by the end - wahoo! Sure it's fashion potential and perhaps fashion does not have eternal value, but self-esteem is a good thing.

I'm a sucker for a good makeover story, and What Not to Wear is quality, mindless television, which I can appreciate.

Tough Mommy day.

2011-01-17T19:33:00.000-08:00

I did not feel like being a mommy today. The morning went well enough, but when we got home from the gym later than anticipated the boys were really hungry and I had a hard time getting their lunches prepared. Then we had issues involving "sassy sauce" and I sent them to bed. BB didn't fall asleep and came on out to play, and then LB soon woke up. I didn't sit down to eat lunch, instead eating cheese, turkey pepperoni, and corn chips while I swept up said tortilla chips a billion and one times as the boys continually crushed them up. I didn't have more than 10 minutes to sit down by myself and I felt like I really needed it.

Enter neighbors. I called up my lovely knitting neighbors in high hopes that they would be doing exactly what they were doing - knitting while their children played. I head on over with my shawl I'm knitting, one boy in jammies, and one in rain boots (it wasn't raining). They had a blast playing while I got to knit and get all of my daily words in with friends. What a blessing!

I wouldn't trade my life for anything ever. But I admit there are some days I do, for a fleeting moment, long for the easy days of being a free-wheeling childless woman who could sit down whenever she wanted. A lot of times gals like me who have experienced infertility feel like we should never take our little blessings for granted and never desire a break more than anything. But most of us do. And that's OK.

Right? ;o)

Gracie

2011-01-16T19:08:00.000-08:00

Last year around this time the boys and I were out playing in the yard when I heard a terrible mewing. Each time I got close to where the sound was coming from it stopped, and each time I walked away it started up again. Finally I was able to locate the source to a soft gray paw stuck through two broken boards in our fence.

When my neighbor and I finally freed the fluffy feline from the fence we discovered that she was just a wee lass. Her swollen paw had made her look bigger than she really was. I nursed her back to health with some help from the San Antonio Feral Cat Society and two neighbors. We had originally planned to find another family for her but after all we went through (I guess I forgot to mention that she had to have her left front leg amputated) we decided to keep her.

Gracie is now a member of the family but there is a problem. Our other female cat Chez hates her. Shall we also say they hate each other? I think that's a fair assessment. Because of this we have at least one cat fight a day in our bedroom and more than a handful of times this comes with little brown accidents under the bed. Oh the joys of pet ownership!

How's this for a profound blog post? I'm racing to get back downstairs to spend some time with my husband. I've been out this afternoon galavanting around the Hill Country with my good friend Jennifer. Hasta.

Lost at the Museum

2011-01-15T18:25:00.000-08:00

We went to the Children's Museum today and that place is a lot of fun! But about 5 minutes after we went in we could not find the littlest one. I wasn't too worried as he is not our flight risk and I had seen him walk through the gift shop toward the exhibits. But still, what better place to steal a kiddo than from a crazy childrens museum (hopefully I don't have any kidnappers reading my blog)!

The calm girl at the front desk had obviously searched for children there before, because she asked me some good questions. What is he wearing? How old is he? What is his name? Some days a mother might not remember what her child was wearing. However, LB will only wear pajamas so it's easy to remember. What was he wearing? Orange pajamas with robots on them. A very easy description. He was found within 2 minutes, sitting in an airplane upstairs.

Perhaps this should have been a scary experience that I shudder to think about. But because of the jammies and the happy ending it was a funny experience that still has me laughing. What mom lets her child wear nothing but PJs? Me! I'm just barely going to mention that BB was dressed with his pants on backwards.

Sitting on my fricker-fracker

2011-01-14T14:28:00.000-08:00

Why am I sitting at the kitchen table with Team Umizoomi in the background and Facebook active rather than reading like I'm supposed to be doing? Because my books are upstairs and I am not.

I wasn't feeling well earlier so I canceled my plans for a haircut and market research at a local movie theater. Instead I decided to come home and lie in bed all day and that is just what I did. I watched Grease, took a nap, and spent time in online pursuits. I had thought I might read in preparation for my infertility support group starting again next week, but instead I slept. I guess I needed the rest.

I'm feeling better now, and I am perfectly capable of dragging my butt (don't say butt) upstairs and getting some reading material. Then I think, by the time I get it the boys won't be occupied with TV anymore and I won't get to read anyway. So I've been sitting here for almost an hour. Ugh.

I think I'm ready to work on our book, Mom, because with the advent of social media I spend even more time in front of the computer spending time on unimportant, non-urgent items like checking my email every 5 minutes and cycling between Facebook, People.com, and my online ministries (that actually are worth spending time doing, don't get me wrong).

Is there something in my personality that gets me stuck like this? I know what I want to do - read. But what I'm doing is not reading. I haven't opened a book all day. I just had a scripture pop into my head from Romans. Romans 7:15 (NIV) says, "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do."

Hate is a strong word, I don't hate Facebook. But I think I'd feel more fulfilled and even energetic at the end of the day if I did more life-affirming things like reading, writing, scrapbooking, playing the piano, etc. Those are the things that I think about doing when I'm out and about, but when I get home, eh - not so much do. (There is no try, only do.)

Sounds like Umizoomi is about over, so I think my time here is through. I've done a good job at sticking with blogging, however many days now I've blogged in a row, so how can I make myself stick to doing other things too. A sticker chart? That's thinking like a mama. ;o)

Ugly cry.

2011-01-13T17:35:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to my Bible study (Bible Study Fellowship), sat down, and was asked a very profound question: "How are you?" I promptly and without warning dropped my head in my hands and burst into tears. Then I realized that everyone was staring at me (I mean, duh!) so I had to say something funny. I don't remember what I said, and it probably wasn't that funny, but that's my natural reaction to tears - make a joke, get 'em laughing, and move on.

Later in the discussion something really funny did happen though, and I'm still laughing about it. The question had to do with Jesus as Redeemer. What does that mean? Nancy answered that Jesus redeems us through his sacrifice of death on the cross for our sins. Redeemed. Easy. Remembering some Old Testament stories from well, the Old Testament, I mentioned also that Jesus was the final sacrifice, whereas in Old Testament times people made regular animal sacrifices instead. Imagine our lives today if we had to make an animal sacrifice every time we sinned.

I shouldn't have done that. "Anyone got a lamb handy? A pigeon? Anything?" Can you imagine? Well we had a good laugh about that, one of those laughs that makes the other groups in the hall say, "What on earth is so funny in there?" I think I laughed the hardest. I love making people laugh. It was one of those laughs that if not kept in check would have turned into a big ol' cry ten seconds later. I didn't let it go. Maybe I should have.

What's the problem with showing emotion in front of others? These women aren't strangers, we've been having deep spiritual discussions for months. Are they going to think I'm a weirdo for having a little cry because my dad is sick and I still have to deal with the small stuff like how my 3-year-old won't wear shoes and the heater is out? Am I ashamed that I have moments when I can't hold it all together like I'm supposed to be superhuman? Are you superhuman? A 'V'?

I think of myself as a pretty transparent person. I'll tell embarrassing stories about myself, point out my own flaws, and answer pretty much anything you want to know if you ask. But what is it about crying that is so embarrassing? Everyone does it, right? Do I view it as a sign of weakness? Maybe, but being weak is OK.

A conclusion would be good here. But I'm too tired today. Anyone want to conclude this for me?

I love my boys differently.

2011-01-12T16:01:00.000-08:00

Silly, I didn't say less or more. Is it because one is adopted and one is from my womb? No way, Jose. It's because they are two different kiddos with two completely different personalities.

BB is a quality-time kind of dude. He doesn't care about snuggling or lots of affirming words. He loves to share experiences. When he tells me he loves me it sounds like this, "Mommy, will you play with me?" He does tell me "I love you, Mommy," but not as often as another little boy who lives here. I would love to snuggle in with BB more, but he's just not into that. That's OK. I tell you when he does let me cuddle with him and hold him it's like nothing else. It warms my mommy heart.

LB is a snuggler. He would like nothing more, most of the time, than to be snuggling and cuddling with Mommy. He repeatedly tells me he loves me, especially in the morning when he also says daily, "Mommy, you're so pretty." For a while he would say, "You're my precious Mommy." No, you're precious! LB is a lot like me in personality and appearance. It can be freaky even.

In terms of discipline, their needs are also very different. A time-out means nothing to BB! He won't do it or he won't have a problem with it. He gets a time-in. He needs to sit in my lap and we have a little talk. I don't let him go until I can tell that he is remorseful and understands why he is in time-in. For LB there is not much worse than a time-out. Just the threat of a time-out will put him practically in hysterics and he'll convincingly apologize right away. When he does get a time-out it is misery. He is a model time-out child.

I know people wonder if they will love their child by adoption as much as their child by birth. The answer is, "YES!" But don't be ashamed to treat them differently. They're different just like two children from the same DNA or even twins will be. Parenting is about being creative with the child God gave you whether you were physically pregnant or paper pregnant with him.

Different - not identical or the same.
Less - to a smaller extent, amount or degree.

(Photos by Laura Pearson. For my IF readers, this website is baby and belly heavy.)

I don't wanna.

2011-01-11T17:12:00.000-08:00

It's so easy to get out of the habit of blogging. Yesterday I posted a recipe and counted it as blogging, and that one day off seemed to have erased my brain of interesting blogging ideas.

Sooooo, I think I'll review some more blogs!

One of my verrrrry favorite blogs is written by Wee Thelma. First off, although not the most important thing, this blog is gorgois! I just want to go all of the places and eat and drink all of the things pictured. I want to pet the kitties and look out the windows. It's my fantasy blog! Also, My Thelma is so clever and a really beautiful writer (inside and out). She loves me even though I drool in my sleep, and she is one of my favorite people in the whole world that I've only met IRL once. Please read.

You know, I'm going to stop there. Just go read Thelma - you'll be happy you did.

T, YOU ROCK!

Apple cinnamon oatmeal

2011-01-10T06:44:00.001-08:00

I made a recipe! Here's what I did.

1 small apple
1/2 T. butter
1/4 t. ground cinnamon
1/4 t. Stevia
1/2 c. 5-minute oats
1 c. water

(individual serving)

Chop a small apple (I used a small Kitchenaid food processor), saute in 1/2 T. melted butter and add cinnamon and stevia, cook until desired tenderness (about 3 minutes). Prepare oatmeal as per package directions. Add apples and cinnamon and stir. Add more cinnamon and stevia to taste. I thought the .25/.25 cinnamon and stevia were lovely.

Enjoy!

From the kitchen.

2011-01-09T15:08:00.001-08:00

I have spent a whole lotta time in the kitchen today! I made chocolate-chip pancakes, bacon, and eggs for breakfast. After church I made grilled cheese sandwiches with fruit and a green salad for me. Now I'm making turkey meatloaf and mashed potatoflowers and and undetermined green vegetable.

Potatoflowers? A few weeks ago on the Dr. Oz show he shared a few ways to save on calories. One way he mentioned was to cut down on your white potatoes in mashed taters by substituting in some cauliflower. So I'm going for it. We'll see. I'm a scratch-cooker. I never really know what I did the time before. I used two potatoes and about 3/4 head of cauliflower. I'll blend in some butter and milk to taste. I guess that's how you make mashed potatoes!

I've got a 4-year-old saying, "Mom, I'm hungry" every few minutes. The kicker is he won't eat meatloaf or mashed potatoes. I'll have to fix him a gourmet hot dog. I enjoy cooking for my family! It means I have a) food to prepare, and b) a family! But I will admit I was a lot fresher at breakfast than I am cooking dinner. Maybe since there's cauliflower in the mashed potatoes I don't need to prepare a veggie. Can I get an amen?

Skinny jeans.

2011-01-08T19:49:00.000-08:00

Tonight I wore skinny jeans and boots to dinner. My first outing. At first I thought I looked like a biker chick, not there's anything wrong with that, and I thought I might change. "Oh, who cares," I thought, maybe I am a biker chick. So I went for it.

I felt pretty stylish but man those things had to be hiked up every time I sat down or stood up. You know, a grab your pants on either side, yank them up forcefully while wriggling your boo-tay from side to side kind of hike-up. I felt like a doofus. But I still thought I looked pretty cute.

We ended up running by the mall after dinner and I would say that about 50% of the women I noticed had on skinny jeans and boots. I guess I didn't look so hard-core after all.

I'd post a picture but I'm pretty sure those suckers got up and walked away on their own when I changed into my comfy pants. I'm not really sure what that implies but I'm tired so I'm going with it.

Night-night.

Mental health day.

2011-01-07T08:05:00.000-08:00

No kids, no plans, no guilt.

It's been a big week. A big few weeks, actually. With all the traveling we did for Christmas, the great news we received about my dad last week, the terrible news we received about my dad this week, getting the kids settled back into a routine, and getting through my dad's brain surgery yesterday, (he did well, btw, and starts a new chemo today), I could use a little sensory day.

First off, until now all I've had to eat today is bacon. That makes for a good day - lots and lots of bacon. I've been to the gym every day this week so I came right home from dropping the boys at their preschool program rather than going to work out like I usually do on Fridays. I brewed a fresh pot of decaf coffee so I can drink it all day long, and wrestled up some apples an cinnamon oatmeal, not even from a packet. I actually sauteed up some chopped apples in butter, cinnamon, and stevia and made something very aromatic and yummy. When I came downstairs from grabbing my computer I could smell it all - very comforting.

I was going to try to catch a movie today, but now that I'm home I feel so peaceful and happy that I'm not going anywhere until picking up the boys from school. I can't remember the last time I spent the whole day at home like this. I love home. This is awesome. As you can see from my picture I have Punky cat here with me. The mug I'm drinking from might look familar to Elizabeth T if she happens across my blog today. I hope she does. Maybe I'll suggest her tuning in today. Hi, Elizabeth!

Today I am going to do all of the things I listed the other day that I wanted to do during nap time. Now I can actually get all of those things in. I also have a Netflix I may watch in bed. If I fall asleep, sleep I will.

Someone is praying for me to have peace and comfort today, I just know it. My special day is off to a great start. Next step my BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) lesson, then off to bed I go to read or start that movie. I can't even remember what movie it is. Jane Austen Book Club, I think. Then later I'll knit my shawl with the merino/silk blend and I may just eat something green with my pepperoni pizza.

This is what I'm doing today. Don't try to stop me.

Love,
Punky's momma

I like to knit it knit it.

2011-01-06T11:06:00.000-08:00

Isn't that just so P-31 of me? "She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands" (Proverbs 31:13).

"Knit one, purl two...knit one, purl twooooo..."

Does knitting seem like an old lady thing to do? Hey, if the shoe fits, right? But I really enjoy so many things about it. There is a whole knit culture out there that I never knew existed. There are "process knitters" and "product knitters" (I'm a process knitter), yarn snobs and general users (I'm more of a yarn snob), and because I can't think of a third distinction, female knitters and male knitters. There are both, I promise.

When I go to the local yarn store (LYS) I feel peaceful. It's comforting, like a big wool sweater. I could stand there for an hour with a cup of coffee and just take it all in. That is, if I had an unrushed hour to spend there. The local yarn store is a place with just yarn and related items so I don't get overwhelmed with all of the other ideas that pop into my head and never come out, like how I could decorate for every season and buy craft kits that the kids will never be into. I could just go there and dream, touch and smell the yarns, and then go home. Of course sometimes I buy some luxurious yarns like alpaca, silk or bamboo fibers. I've even knit a scarf and bag with banana yarn, spun from the banana leaf as far as I can tell.

I will shop for yarn at Michael's or Hobby Lobby when I have some mass production to go out, like the ribbed hats for members of my family (they were a big hit for Iowa Christmas), but for a special project I head to my LYS Yarnivore for some specialty yarn. Currently I have a wool/silk yarn from Manos del Uruguay in Olivewood. I actually picked out this yarn as an "inspiration piece" to help choose paint colors for our bedroom when we moved. I knew I could find color inspiration at my LYS. I started knitting a shawn just the other night and I love the way this soft yarn feels in my hands. Yummy.

A little over a year ago when we moved I had just started knitting and I knit up a storm in anticipation of our life change. One of the first things I did in our new town was to find the LYS and I couldn't wait to check it out. It was so comforting to me, and something I could do in our old home and our new. Then over the summer I lost some interest, because lets face it, summer in Texas is hardly the time you are motivated to imagine soft, warm knits. But recently, and especially with my new passion for knitting chemo hats, I've started going again.

I started with little projects like soft drink cozies and coasters, then progressed to scarves. Then I went to circular knitting hats and have made quite a few. (I am just now learning how to get the size right. Some of my original creations for adults were big enough for a human to wear over a helmet.) I also enjoy knitting handbags and recently sold one at a silent auction benefitting Hannah's Prayer Ministries. I have two currently unfinished handbags waiting for handles. I have also made mittens, a shrug, ornaments (OK, I crocheted those), and one half of a sock.

When do I have time to knit? That is an excellent question. The answer is "not often enough." That's why I am a process knitter and not a product knitter! I finish about 60% of the projects I start, although recently with the 5 hats I knit during the last two weeks of December my stats are up. I have some fun neighbor friends who I knit with sometimes, and we had a knitting club meeting in November which was nice. Now that the holidays are over we'll try to get a new one going. See you there?

Blog it, baby!

2011-01-05T13:35:00.000-08:00

We've been running errands today and I'm plum tuckered out. I can hear the boys downstairs relatively calm and I just know in my gut that orange juice is being drunk out of the container and there is a pile of dried cranberries on the counter. Plus I just heard a door slam, and just a minute ago BB was asking for a rake. Why am I still upstairs pretending everything is fine? Because I love the water and I've found me a flowing river - DENILE.

Bad joke. OK, neither of those things actually happened, but they have before. My favorite are Ovaltine mountains on the couch. That's always a treat. The boys are at an age now where they will still take a nap but then bedtime is harder. Today I figured we'd run around and it would wear the boys out for bedtime. But now I wish it were my bedtime!

So this is day 4 of my attempt at a 21-day blog habit formation. I've talked some of my friends in to coming along! So in order of their agreement, here are some of my friends blogs.

Hope's family blog. Hope moved to my former hometown right after we moved away, but we've enjoyed some Sea World together in the past year. Hope is blazing the path for others of us whose homes are All Boy All the Time! Hope's recent post about gratitude ought to get us on the right start in the new year.

Next we have C, a very responsible blogger! She is also a real hoot and one of the most loyal and true friends and moms I know. She too is in the MOB (Moms of Boys) and is in the process of adopting another. Did I mention she was such a fun gal? She is!

Stay tuned for more new blog promos tomorrow. Right now I have to go see why it is now so quiet in my bedroom.

This time is different.

2011-01-04T09:59:00.000-08:00

My dad is fighting cancer. And it is fighting back. Hard. Cancer is a vicious foe - everybody knows that. It strikes fast but can sometimes be held at bay. Then when you've let your guard down just a little bit, it can come back at you harder than ever.

Last week we received some good news - that the leukemia was retreating from the blood and my dad was a candidate for a bone marrow transplant and given pretty good odds. He was tired and wearing out from the fight, but we saw a light at the end of the tunnel. When I had the chance I was praising God from my Facebook account for the miracle we had received.

Then yesterday came the new data. The cancer has spread to the brain. It may be treatable, we have great hope for that to happen, but it may not be. This is life with cancer. You can only take it one day or minute at a time.

I wonder if when I posted that praise last week some might have thought, "Sure you praise God now, but what about those of us who haven't had such great news?" Well I'm one of you now. I don't have such great news. But I have a great hope and I still have faith.

I am still praising my God even in this news. I praise Him because He will carry us through. I praise Him because someday my dad and I will both be in heaven together and we will be the healthiest cats ever. I praise Him because even though it makes no sense to me right now why such pain exists, I know that God has a sovereign plan and none of this is a surprise to Him. I don't believe that God gives us cancer, he's not a puppet master, but I do believe that evil exists in a fallen world and somehow, God has a plan for that, too. I know that he surrounds us with love during this time, in the form of family and friends and a peace that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7).

Back in October when we first got the diagnosis I was miserable. I felt like the world would never play in color again. I looked way ahead into the future and worried about all of our plans that might never be. Every precious thing that happened in that week when we were waiting like we are now again was sad for me. I didn't find joy in those things, only sadness that my dad might never experience those things with us again.

This time is different. Not easy, but different. We are armed and stronger from the last battle. I am assured that all I know right now is that my dad is being taken care of as best as his family and doctors can. I know now that things are going to get worse over the next 48 hours before they have a chance to get better. That stinks. (Unless God does a healing miracle which I believe He can.) What I don't know is the number of tomorrows, there might be hundreds! We might kick this brain cancer and go back to the treatment plan that brought us such good news last week. We might! None of us know how many tomorrows we have.

God says in Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future." That's a promise. Psalm 34:4 says, "I sought the Lord, and he answered me; He delivered me from all my fears." Notice it doesn't say He will take away our troubles. It says He will deliver us from them.

Don't get me wrong, I've said it before - this stinks! But all we can do is hold tight and wait. The next thing that happens is the next thing. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things; Philippians 4:8.

And pray.

Well, would you look at me!

2011-01-03T12:07:00.000-08:00

What do you know - two days in a row. I am coming to you "live" from the playroom on January 3rd 2011. As you can see my Stupid Human Trick still looks tricky! This is a face I usually only pull out at parties, but any time I get two small boys to nap at the same time does feel like a party.

This morning I woke up thinking about what I would try to write about today. I decided to outline my perfect day. It starts with me getting up at 6:30 and reading my Bible for 30 minutes, spending deep, meaningful time with the God who made me. Then the boys wake up at 7:30 and stay in their room until I come for them, as soon as I finish my morning coffee and unload the dishwasher for the day.

Next, the boys quietly color at the table (you know, on actual paper and without ingesting any crayon) while I cook a great breakfast. Then we all sit down to eat at the same time. We watch a quick show while I clean up and then go play educational games in the playroom and immediately clean it up to its original immaculate state. After playing for 30 minutes we read books and the boys quietly play together while I do the laundry and have a snack.

After a nutritious lunch the boys would go down for their nap without even a threat of spanking or closing the blinds. The would sleep for 2 hours while I do the following:

My quiet time with God would come first, then
Blog, of course
Knit
Read non-fiction
Read fiction
Have a cup of coffee
Check my email and Facebook
Organize something
Take a power nap.

All of those things.

Then the boys wake up, we play outside with neighbors and nobody gets scolded or cries, and we would then go inside for a dinner I would have made a month ago and placed lovingly and healthfully in the freezer for such a time as this.

But the reality is, I stayed in bed until LB got me, BB woke up and we all played, and then I cleaned the playroom to some extent. I fixed the boys breakfast and managed to eat something myself, they argued and pushed each other around, we watched TV for 30 minutes and then I scrambled to get them dressed for the gym. LB will only wear jammies these days and hates all of his shoes, so he whimpered all the way to the car about his brand new shoes being wrong. The same shoes he's been wearing since September only in a bigger size.

We came home, BB whined and stole food, I fed them lunch and then managed to eat something myself (notice a theme), I tried to read books but they wouldn't listen, they got in beds for naps and BB got in trouble for disobeying, I had to close the blinds, they complained, then fell asleep. I don't know what the rest of the day holds, but I do know there's no way I could ever do those things that are on my above list!

If my day had actually gone according to my perfect plan, I'm not sure whose children I would be raising! My boys just don't sit and the table and color quietly - they're boys. They aren't gentle all the time and they do practice boundary-pushing on a daily basis. I'm not the mom who has the whole day planned, and if I did I'd have to change the plan anyway. That I can do. I'm a pretty good plan changer.

As for all of the things I would love to be able to do, maybe I ought to adjust my expectations just a tad? No way am I going to get to all of those things every afternoon. But what I can do is spend less time on Facebook and more time in other pursuits. I'm doing pretty well with less TV watching but not so great with limiting my incessant internet usage.

This is a good day. I got hugs from each of my boys, I have some free time, I can still make that silly crooked fish face, and I have so many blessings I don't deserve! I can see the carpet in the playroom, I washed my hair and brushed my teeth, and I have food in the fridge. I only have to put my coffee cup into the microwave and press go (again) for a little caffeine boost. Life is good. I'll take what I have - there is another chance at the perfect day tomorrow.

Or not. And that's perfectly good.

HNY!

2011-01-02T09:33:00.001-08:00

Did you notice that yesterday was 1/1/11? It would have been more interesting for me to have pointed that out yesterday, but alas I did not. Today is 1/2/11, but that is not interesting at all. When it is 1/2/21 that will be nifty. I'll be 50 years old. What? In October it will be 11/11/11. Now that's cool.

I don't believe in New Years resolutions, do you? Eat better, exercise regularly, get organized, read more books and spend less time online, blog more. Did I hear blog more? Can I get a what, what??

It used be I found myself pretty interesting. Going through infertility and experiencing the adoption process was pretty exciting stuff, and I found that writing about it and using my self-professed sense of humor to get through were helpful.

So are trial and struggle the only interesting things to blog about? It's not that I don't have either in my life right now, but most pressing is how do I raise my little men. This is my most important mission now. As a formerly infertile woman, who still identifies greatly with that plight, I've had a hard time blogging about parenting. There are tons of blogs about parenting. I'm also not that great a parent! I have some cute stories, though.

My Wendi has managed to continue blogging and being a mom sensitive to her readers who are experiencing infertility. (Did I just insert a link all by myself?) She is a blogging inspiration! (Did I really just insert a link?) Others have done it too, right?

I shouldn't feel like I have to apologize for being a mom. No one tells me I should, but I feel a self-imposed need to shelter my IF friends from All Mom All The Time. I think this is why I stopped blogging. That and I really don't have a lot of uninterrupted time to get my thoughts down. (Enough time to play a lot of Facebook Scrabble though!)

So anyway, I want to try to blog more. I did used to really enjoy it. I should stop apologizing to myself about being too momish. I am a lot of other things too, but I am a mom with mom issues and parenting struggles.

So I'm going to go for it. I'm not making a NYR, but I do commit to blogging something every day for 21 days and try to make a habit. I give myself permission to talk about parenting and I promise not to only talk about parenting. If I can get back into the gym, I can do this!

Any other part-time bloggers care to join me for a 21 day attempt at daily blogging?

Tips from a Not-So-Supermom.

2010-12-13T08:17:00.000-08:00

Today's tips - stay tuned for new tips every 3 months - haha.

Tips for Making Christmas Cookies with Preschoolers!

1. Lower your expectations.
2. Buy pre-made dough.
3. Lower your expectations.
4. Bake at breakfast time. You'll be more fresh and won't have to cook breakfast!
5. Lower your expectations again.
6. Embrace the mess as part of the process.
7. Plan to offer actual nutrition the rest of the day.
8. Plan on only you and your children eating or seeing the cookies. This way when they put the icing tube in their mouth you won't have to worry about your neighbor or their teacher getting their germs.
9. Make each child a cookie with the first letter of their name that they can decorate any way they want and then eat.
10. Take lots of pictures!

Blessings

2010-09-12T18:12:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in my new kitchen. It's ginormous. (How did "ginormous" pass the spell check?) It's embarrassing, really, how big it is. The other day we delivered a loved crib to a single mama from our church. She has an absolutely gorgeous 6-month-old son with the hugest brown eyes you've ever seen. She lives in a small old house with a rotting porch with her mom, her older son, her little baby, and perhaps someone else - we couldn't tell. She and her mom were lovely and very grateful for a crib for their little sweetheart.

We dropped off the crib at the non air conditioned house and hopped back into our comfy, cool minivan to return to our new home where Granny was caring for our boys, much as that little baby's grandmother likely takes care of him sometimes, too. As we drove off I realized how embarrassingly comfortable we expect to be as a family.

In Austin we lived in a 1400 square foot house with two little boys. It was tight but we were determined to make it work until we could pay it off. People live with much much less space, obviously, and although we occasionally longed for a bigger place to spread out (mostly for a bigger kitchen), we were all happy there.

Enter a new city with a much lower average housing cost. We rented a big ol' house (to us) for a year, put an offer on this place in April, closed in June, and leased back to the original owners for two months. Now we're in our new home and are really happy to have more space. But we really aren't any happier than when we had less space.

I know as middle-class Americans we have much more than we need and are terribly spoiled. I know that "on paper," but dropping off the crib at this mom's house was a tangible reminder of how blessed we are. We could be wealthier, but we couldn't be richer, and we wouldn't be happier.

I would be happier if it weren't football season. (Just kidding, darling.)

Hindsight

2010-09-06T20:15:00.000-07:00

Some of my most beautiful memories come from when we were struggling daily, monthly, and annually with infertility. How is that possible? At the time it was the most devastating experience of my life.

I look back at joining Hannah's Prayer after 9 months of infertility. What an amazingly incredible blessing HP has been for me over the years. I have been a member now for over 6 years and now moderate two forums. I have met endless beautiful ladies, some whose arms have been filled with children and some whose hearts have been filled with peace and joy as families of two!

Reading some of my old posts in preparation for my support group tomorrow simply warm my heart. Helpful comments from friends like Crunchy Christine who has now advised me every which way on topics like infertility, open adoption, breast feeding, and anger management. I get to see how God gave me peace and contentment in my life even before my arms were filled with my two precious blessings, and how He has grown me in the past 7 years.

Tomorrow I go sit with a group of ladies (no idea how many folks will turn up) who are currently struggling with infertility and my purpose is to point them to the God of healing and love. He loves us whether we feel it's true or not - it's just a fact. Whether I have faith or I don't, God is sovereign and holy and loves me. When I am angry with Him He still loves me. When I feel like I am not getting the good that I deserve, the truth is that I'm getting much more than what I deserve to be called His child.

Easy for me to point to God now that my arms are filled, right? Well that might be a valid point, but it doesn't make His promises and his word any less true. It's just hard to see clearly in times of personal crisis. It was for me, it is now in different situations, and it will likely be hard to see clearly for these ladies. I just need to continually remind myself that I cannot heal their hurts, but God can.

Support

2010-09-06T19:34:00.000-07:00

My support group starts tomorrow. I was going to write about it when I heard on the TV about how lack of sleep can affect preschoolers FOREVER! So what am I supposed to do about that? Start bedtime at 6pm the minute my husband walks through the door so those kids can be asleep by 7:30? Drive myself absolutely INSANE taking it all upon myself to force those boys to go to sleep how, by holding them down in their beds and taping their eyes and mouths shut? I don't think so. I want those researchers to come to my home and get my kids to sleep by 7:30. Wouldn't that just look like an episode of Leave it to Beaver?

I have to make lunches for tomorrow. No time to prepare for my support group. Can I have a snack now? It's only 9:35 p.m. The kids have been asleep for less than an hour and I got an, "I hate you, Mommy" from my little angel. Perhaps all this nonsense is meant to be a distraction for me and I shouldn't let it.

Prepare...

This is gross. You may want to stop reading.

2010-08-27T05:46:00.000-07:00

Not for the coprophobic.

This morning I decided to make a healthy green smoothie for part of my balanced breakfast (1 cup water, kale, 1 banana, 1 c. of frozen berries). I had my first 3 ingredients in the carafe and two boys sitting on the kitchen counter. They were, well, let's call it "helping."

I turned my back to rinse out the lid when the blender turns on and banana-kale-water flies into the air with the greatest of ease. "NO!" I scream, and walk speedily out of the room to get my bearings. As I went back to check the damage it wasn't that bad and so I counted my blessings.

Ah, here comes my delicious smoothie. By this time LB resigned to the Mickey Mouse Club on TV while BB was still helping me. Thank God I was standing there because BB picked up what looked like a flattened felt pad from the bottom of our kitchen chairs and went to put it in the blender. "Stop, BB," I said, and took the object from him. "What is that?" I thought aloud as I held it up to my face to inspect it.

It was then I realized that it was poo. It had fallen out of BB's pull-up and he'd flattened it with his foot. I squealed, threw it away, and vigorously washed my hands. I turned to BB who was looking bewildered from the kitchen chair next to the counter. I asked him, "Were you trying to make a poo smoothie?" He smiled sheepishly and we went on with our smoothie-making. One might think we would not want to drink the smoothie that almost went fecal on us, but we only had one banana left so we had to.

It was good.

You might be a mom of boys if...

Mom

2010-08-16T15:41:00.001-07:00

That makes me:

Referee
Coach
Personal Trainer
Teacher
Pastor
Chef
Maid
Nurse
Mediator
Counselor
Friend
Mrs. Nice guy
Mean lady :o)

Quiet.

2010-07-28T12:22:00.000-07:00

It's quiet. What? I'm just soaking it in.

LB broke the blender earlier. That was loud. The boys are tired today. They're loud. I have a lot on my mind today. My thoughts are also loud. I'm paralyzed by quiet. What do I do now? As soon as I start something I'm certain to be disturbed. It's hard to get started on something cool when I'm always wondering when someone will wake up and need me.

I'm not complaining. Parenting is a gift. But it's a loud job.

What should I do?

Humbled

2010-06-26T06:39:00.000-07:00

A little under a year ago we moved to a new city and found a new church. It's very different from the church we attended last, a big Baptist church. Our current church is one of the world's largest (like #20 or so) and is filled to the brim with outreach ministries, both within the church and community. It has been wonderfully interesting lately finding out about all of the ministries, especially the Pastoral Care department. There are 20 or so support groups at our church helping people going through trials like alcoholism, marriage issues, and abortion recovery. It's amazing. But there has been a group close to my heart that has not yet been served - couples going through the monthly heartbreak of infertility.

Every service the pastor calls people to the alter who would like to receive prayer. I am usually in the choir loft during one of those services, so I often see the faces and tears of our dear brothers and sisters coming for intercessory prayer. I often wonder if some of those tears are for the monthly losses associated with being unable to conceive or to carry a baby to term. Every time I watch this type of alter call I pray fervently for those women and men. I began to feel led every Sunday to talk to someone about starting an infertility life group at the church.

After an obviously God-ordained series of events, I was put in touch with the director of support services in the Pastoral Care department and, long-story short, we met and proposed a plan to the Pastoral Care department to start an infertility support group in the fall. Last week I received word that our Community Bible Church has approved the group. We will start in September.

"Now what?!?!?" I ask. I am not a professional counselor, I am just a busy mom who has not forgotten where we've come from to get there. I don't look like a professional - right now I'm sitting in my PJs gazing over an extremely toy-strewn playroom and periodically making sure my boys are not eating from the sugar bowl like they enjoy doing. I don't dress to shoes every day and I've barely done any professional work for almost 4 years. I'm not a trained speaker, I ramble on and on sometimes, and I am certainly not "good enough" to be in a position to minister to how ever many women come to our fledgling group. But you know Who Is?

So I'm humbled that God has chosen to form this group and I am praying for a co-leader. I can't wait to see who God turns up! I know He has chosen her already and she just has yet to be revealed. How exciting!! We need to nail down a book to guide our time (I'm thinking Hannah's Heart by Jenni Saake), and then discuss some group details. I will have to pull out some of my counseling skills from Nat "What are the tears about?" Kees at Colorado State University. (That was a fun time in my educational career so it will be fun to think back on that.) Above all I will be praying for the ladies who would venture into our group.

Yes, we're parenting little kiddos now and our infertility days are not our current reality, but I have not lost the heart for this group of ladies and I am looking forward to seeing what comes out of this. I don't think anyone who has walked the lonely road of infertility has forgotten, either. Will you join me in prayer?

Bible Gateway dot com.

2010-06-24T04:56:00.001-07:00

“But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen and protect you from the evil one.”- 2 Thessalonians 3:3

That's all. :o)

Operation Wear 'Em OutI

2010-05-27T13:46:00.000-07:00

Once a week or so I have a mom's night. No, not a night where I go out and paint the proverbial town, but a night where I am the only grown-up. I have a plan. I shall retitle the evening, "Play-our-faces-off night." I need some high-energy activities for us so I can put them down early to bed and have some me time. I love me time.

Looks like Chick-Fil-A is on that agenda. They have a playscape that that boys love. LB is always dripping with sweat by about 5 minutes of play. BB wants to fill up the pool, but I might leave that for nights when Randy is home and can help me wash grass of these guys.

Operation Wear 'Em Out begins...

Mommy, you're pretty.

2010-05-25T12:30:00.001-07:00

I was just trying to get the kids settled down for their naps. They were pretty riled up. BB kept climbing into LB's bed and when I went to take him out they clung to each other and BB said, "But I love LB so much!" Awww.

A few minutes later I was singing the Cheeseburger Song (Veggie Tales), and BB said, "Mommy, your toenails aren't pretty." A month or so ago I had painted my toenails pink and BB was bragging to everyone about them. Who says boys aren't into beauty! I removed the pink a few weeks ago and went au natural until 5 minutes ago. Now my toenails are plum.

I asked BB, "Do you want me to paint my toenails?" and he got a sweet smile on his face and finally began to settle down. Who knew all it would take to get them to sleep was toenail polish?

I love my boys.

Clean eating

2010-05-02T08:24:00.001-07:00

I'm not sure what this means, but I know it doesn't mean what I ate for dinner last night! But, I am on a health kick and am interested in changing my diet so that I feel more energy and less moody. Today we are going to a local farmer's market for some fresh produce. They also have "clean, wholesome, grass-fed beef and pastured chickens," whatever that means.

We started "getting ready" at 9:15 and now it's almost 10:30. We do not do "getting ready" fast in this house! The blessing for this morning is that LB let me dress him without screaming at me. A small victory.

Off to the farmer's market. LB hopes to see a cow. I don't think he means a steak, though.

Unexpected, non-child-related blessing.

2010-03-05T17:41:00.001-08:00

Today I had plans to go to my friend Elisabeth's house for lunch with some of the moms from the boys' school. I was expecting to either know everyone there or have something obvious in common with everyone. When I knocked on the door an older woman answered and I was momentarily confused and thought I had gotten the wrong house. But then Elisabeth popped around the corner and I was relieved. Elisabeth is Swedish, although she has lived in the states for 10 years, and today I met two other women from her home country. One was a young married woman, and one was an 85-year-old widow. I Americanized their names and then began to mingle with the women I knew.

Then I met Marion, an engaging 74-year-old woman who is also a widow of 4 years. Then Vienna who I didn't know, and Doris from Puerto Rico. I ended up knowing fewer than 50% of the women there. I wouldn't say I was disappointed, but it just wasn't what I was expecting.

The moms from school sat at a table together, and the other table was the "international table." Although there was a seat at either table, I sat with the women I didn't know. I had a fabulous and blessed lunch with my new friends. I spent most of the time talking with Marion, as she told me about her 52-year-old beau and her upcoming move to be closer to her daughter. I chatted a little with the Swedish ladies about the Americanization of their names, of their language, and of the failure of the U.S. to encourage language learning in our schools.

Elisabeth served a traditional Swedish Smörgåstårta or "sandwich cake." It was just amazing. Isn't it gorgeous? I could have eaten 5 servings. We had ice-cream afterwards, and that paled in comparison to the Smörgåstårta. I never ever ever ever thought I would have preferred a sandwich over ice cream. Crazy.

I'm not sure I can express why I felt so blessed afterwards. I guess because it was so unexpected and different than having lunch with a pile of people I knew. Also because Elisabeth was so hospitable and planned an interesting international gathering with a dish from her country. Plus, as much as I adore my kids, our conversation was pretty much void of kid talk. It felt great to have flowing conversation with people in a different life stage than mine.

I really have no idea who reads my blog anymore, besides my mom, Niki, and Allison! But I want to encourage "my readers" to maybe sit at a table full of people you don't know at the next social gathering you attend. I know I will.

Thanks, Elisabeth!

Resting

2010-02-24T10:35:00.001-08:00

Boy, life has been busy lately! We moved in September, began to get adjusted, and the boys are into everything at all times. Then we rescued Gracie and rehabilitated her through a leg amputation and now a spay. We are looking for a new home and I have evening plans tonight.

I went to look at homes this morning with our awesome, smart, beautiful real estate consultant and then came home to quickly pick up my care group list for choir. I called Randy at work to update him on the home situation and he encouraged me to take a breather this afternoon. Now I'm breathing.

Random thoughts. I saw 4 homes this morning and two of them were very nice. Another was quirky and quaint, not exactly our style, and another had a complicated back yard that would not be conducive to our current lifestyle. However, both of the areas we looked in are a little farther out than ideal for us, so we probably won't continue to look in those areas. We go back out on Saturday.

Gracie is doing well and was spayed yesterday. So now she has an even more interesting fur pattern. Here is a picture of her from Saturday.

Tonight I am having dinner with a college friend who I have not seen or spoken to in over 15 years (until last night, that is). I'll find a nice Texasy spot for us to dine. Should be fun!

Pillows

2010-02-01T17:31:00.000-08:00

As I sit and do some nonsensical work on my computer, two naked boys play sumo babies.

BB just chased after LB with their pillows held to their chests, naked baby booties passing me by. Both giggling with naked glee. "Let's go to the yellow room," BB said as they scampered off.

Blessings.

(I could make this into a haiku, don't you think?"

Gracie's recovery, day 4

2010-01-27T10:41:00.000-08:00

Gracie is very slowly and very surely perking up. She had her bandage taken off today and the vet said she looks really good. I'm not sure "looks good" describes it, but it is definitely an improvement from before. This is a real fighter. Not only is she getting used to being a house cat after living the wild life for the first 6 months, but getting used to two new cats and the loss of a limb. A lot of adjustments! She will need some time to figure out how to get around more stealthily with her new physique. I felt sad for her when she fell over during this video, but if you're not falling you're not trying, right? Maybe that only applies to skiing, I don't know.

Being scared of the other cats in the house hinders her recovery. She is still living in the bathroom and it's pretty small. There aren't really too many exciting things to do in there so there's not much reason to move around. Maybe she'll learn to flush the toilet. Although I'm not sure how, since we haven't used that bathroom for over 2 weeks. The vet thinks that after the sutures come out would be a good time to introduce all of these guys. I guess I should be glad to have another female in the house. This almost evens out the gender count at home.

She plays

2010-01-25T21:01:00.001-08:00

These are some pictures from yesterday.

We went to the vet for a bandage change today. They took the bandage off completely and planned to leave it off until I reminded them that Gracie likes to lie around in her litter box! We'll leave the bandage on until Wednesday. Hopefully she'll be feeing much better and would rather hang in her bed instead of the poop box. The doctor said she seems to be doing well and things are healing up nicely. The visual image is a little Bride of Frankenstein, but not too bad. I'll have two days to get used to the image in my head before bye-bye bandage.

So tonight I went in to give her medicine and hold her for a little bit. She loves to be scratched under the chin. She purrs so loudly! After petting her for awhile I introduced the catnip mouse again. She actually batted at it for the first time. I was so proud! She looked very interested in it as I bat it around on the floor. Maybe some pouncing is in our near future!

Gracie's recovery, day 1

2010-01-24T13:03:00.000-08:00

The recovery - day 1

2010-01-23T17:51:00.000-08:00

Gracie one day post surgery:

The Fence, Gracie's nemesis:

Officially a tripod.

2010-01-22T15:15:00.000-08:00

The vet called earlier today to let me know that Gracie is now a tripod kitty! He said she was hopping around before the surgery and he thought she would do great without all that dead weight. I can't wait to see her! She will have a drainage tube for 5 days and we'll have to monitor her closely for infection. In 2 weeks she'll have her staple sutures taken out and be almost as good as new!

Thanks, Dr. Fernandez!

I've got two legs.

2010-01-22T09:06:00.000-08:00

Gracie has three. I think.

We took Kitten to the vet yesterday for a bandage change but there was so much continual damage they decided to keep her there and perform the surgery today. I am supposed to get a call when they are through. It's a little after 11:00 now.

Miss Kitty will have her front right leg amputated at the shoulder. Sounds gruesome, doesn't it? She will come home on Saturday and have to go back to the vet every few days for bandage changes and then to have her stitches removed. People at the San Antonio Feral Cat Coalition have given some money individually to help pay for these costs and we certainly appreciate it. Yes, it is expensive! How could it not be? But this kitty happened to end up in our fence and we will make the financial parts work. Consider it taking care of God's creation.

The videos I've been seeing on YouTube show tripod cats to function like many other able-bodied ones. I even saw a video of one cat a week after surgery and it looked like he'd been three-legged all of his life. Type in "Milton cat - one week after surgery part 3." His bandage is off and his fur has not grown back in, but it is not gory or anything. Unless that kind of thing totally freaks you out.

Oh, on another note, my neighbor captured the patriarch of this feral cat colony in a humane trap the other day. He has been neutered and returned to his colony.

So I'm off for lunch with the psuedo-crunchy Christine! I'll post another Gracie update later.

Gracie

2010-01-19T21:04:00.000-08:00

Guess what. I like her! This little hissy kitty is turning into a real sweetheart. I am looking forward to getting to know her as a tripod kitty. I was just watching YouTube videos of three-legged cats and it seems to me they look pretty happy! Most are missing a back leg and Gracie will be missing her front, but they all seem to get along really well!

Last night a neighbor came by to meet Miss Kitty, so that I could get her opinion on whether or not she seemed adoptable. My neighbor felt quite confident that she would be. And so do I now. There was not going to be much of a life for a 3-legged kitty out on the streets of San Antone. At first the goal was reunification with her feral cat colony. But everyone is afraid that she would likely be harmed by another neighborhood cat or dog because she would be seen as the weak link.

One week from today she will have her surgery. Her post-amputation care will include regular dressing changes, medications, and stitches removal. Then after she is healed from this she will be spayed (insult to injury, right?) and adoptable. It has been a long week of kitty care, but I feel good about what we are doing. There must be a reason it was our fence she was caught in. More and more people are becoming emotionally invested in her life and recovery. This bodes well for kitty!

So am I going to fall in love with her and want to keep her? Uh, well, uh, no dear, not at all. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Two days later.

2010-01-18T18:38:00.000-08:00

OK, so that wasn't really what I've been learning.

I've been learning that even when we are ugly and behaving badly that God still loves us and Jesus still died for us. Whether or not we "deserve" His love, we get it. He tends to us when we feel like nobody cares and maybe even nobody has reason to.

And I've learned all this from a kitty cat.

When we brought the kitten in to our home after my neighbor Sarah and I rescued her from the fence, I figured we were just a temporary holding tank. I thought Sarah would take her to the vet and then take her home to care for her. But Sarah had to work that afternoon and I ended up taking the cat to the vet.

The doctor said there were no broken bones and that she may or may not regain use of her arm. The veterinary bill was $150, which my sincere, animal-loving neighbor had given me before she left for work. No prob. I would give the kitty the medicine and she would learn to walk without her leg until the feeling maybe came back. At that point, there was still a little bit of hope for the limb. The kitty let us give her the medicine, so it seemed like things might be easy.

Until the smell. The wound had become infected but there was still circulation to the limb, so there was hope that she would regain use of it. The bill was $60 including the office visit, treatment, and meds for the infection. Upon going back today, however, more cells had died and there is no choice but to amputate the limb or euthanize the cat.

Yes it would be cheaper to euthanize the cat. I know it is an animal and not a human. But at what point is an animal no longer worth saving? No, this is not a beloved house pet, but it is one of God's creatures who needs help. I would not have taken this on by choice, but it has kind of fallen in my lap. Now it's not such an easy decision.

We've had this cat for a week and have been through a lot together. I know, "IT'S A CAT!" but it is still a living creature. I believe she will be adoptable, and I have been promised some assistance with the vet bill. Yes I will likely end up taking care of the cat after this procedure, but I'm willing to do it. She is used to me and she trusts me. And yes then we will try to find a home for her.

I have also learned that different causes speak to different people. Someone asked me today why I was going through so much effort to raise money to save this three-legged cat. Shouldn't I be more concerned with raising that money for medical care in Haiti? Or to help feed hungry children in Texas?

Of course I am concerned with those things. And at other times in my life I will absolutely give to similar causes as these. But right now I have a sweet kitty in my bathroom who I think has a great chance at being adopted and having a good life. There are plenty of happy, three-legged pets out there. In fact, more than one person has told me that pets with disabilities are often more quickly adopted than healthy animals. I am sick about what has happened in Haiti. I have several friends who have children, family, and friends in Haiti and are very worried about their lives and safety. It's terrible, and I am praying for those families.

If Gracie the cat, and yes, I named her, did not seem appropriate for adoption I don't think the best solution would be to have her leg amputated and let her back into the wild. Originally the goal was to get this feral cat back to her colony. In that case the most humane thing would be to euthanize. But now she's tame. She purrs. She's beautiful. In my heart of hearts I think she is adoptable and will bring someone a lot of joy.

I am not an animal rights activist. I'm not a vegetarian and I don't believe that plants have feelings. But I do believe that God created animals and He cares about His creation. I do have a very specific kitty to help. I'm not going to go out and roam the streets searching for kittens to take in, and I'm not going to stop giving to other charities because right now our money and the money of some other cat lovers are going toward saving the life of a previously feral kitty.

When I had a miscarriage years ago I began giving to the March of Dimes. Then that memory and resulting passion faded and I stopped donating there. I donate to the Special Olympics and other similar organizations because I am a music therapist and work with people who have those concerns. When there was cancer in my family I donated to the American Cancer Society. Right now I have an animal that needs help, so I am giving money to help her. Who knows to which organizations other circumstances might lead us in the future.

This post has changed directions. It was originally about what I believe that God is teaching me through this "feral cat ministry." Now it is me processing my beliefs regarding charitable donations. If you don't want to contribute to my ministry because there are other areas of ministry that you feel more passionately about, then give there. That's awesome! Keep me informed of other ministries and areas of need in the future. In the meantime, where's Bob Barker when I need him?

What I am learning this week.

2010-01-17T11:55:00.000-08:00

First off, I am learning that animal rescuing is not a passion of mine. I am happy to help out a few animals I've become attached to, but I am not in this business for the long haul.

Last Monday the kids and I were playing in the backyard for the first time in what felt like ages. We were playing chase and hide-and-seek and having a lot of fun. But I kept hearing this aggressive meowing from our neighbor's yard. Each time I would walk toward it it would stop, so we'd keep playing.

Finally I went all the way to the back of the yard following the meowing and saw what looked like a chipmunk stuck through the fence. On closer inspection I noticed it was a very swollen cat's paw and the meowing was coming from a pretty, long-haired grey kitten who was looking hurt and angry! I couldn't figure out how to get her out, so I packed up the kids and walked over to the house where most of the kitten was stuck. Nobody was home.

So I called Animal Rescue and they said they couldn't help with domestic pets. I tried to get her out from my side of the fence, but there was no way. I have no idea how she got so stuck. The opening between the slats where she was couldn't have been more than about 1 centimeter. I know how big a centimeter is because it's the size of a miniature marshmallow, right, Mom?

What could I do? It was nap time for the boys, I hadn't eaten lunch, and this cat was absolutely pinned in there. I ended up calling my neighbor Sarah who, in a related animal story, was keeping Pink the beagle who I've blogged of before. She had told me she had rescued many animals before, so I thought she might be able to help me with the kitten. She jumped over the fence, wrapped Kitten in towels and gave me instructions on how to open up the fence slat a little with the head of a hammer. She got the kitten out!

This paw was swollen enough that it was probably as big as a golden retriever puppy's. She had no use of it and obviously needed to be taken to the vet. So Sarah gave me some money and arranged a vet visit. They did an x-ray and discovered that nothing was broken, but she obviously had considerable nerve damage. So I came home with a strange, angry cat who has been living in our downstairs bathroom for a week tomorrow.

The vet gave us some anti-inflammatory medicine to give to the cat. I put out some signs and slipped a note under the garage door of a neighbor who I thought could be the owner. She later called me (this was Tuesday night) and confirmed to me that the cat was a bona-fide member of a feral cat colony in our neighborhood. This neighbor, Pam, had just returned from a workshop teaching about how to manage feral cat colonies!

More later, as I am now on nap duty.

A new respect for single moms.

2010-01-04T18:55:00.000-08:00

Not that I am anything near being a single parent, with my husband out of town for five days, and not that I haven't in the past had a respect for single moms, but I've a new appreciation today.

Over the past three years and two months there have been weeks when Randy has been out of town, but I've always fled the scene! I've spent several weeks with my wonderful mother-in-law and one week a few summers ago with my mom and dad in Iowa. We became very spoiled when Randy worked his last job as he didn't have to travel at all. But in the past two months he has had to travel almost two weeks. I am just not used to this nonsense! But it's OK, honey.

Anyway, my MIL could not make it down this time and after traveling for the holidays I didn't want to traipse the boys all over creation, so we decided to stay put. So this is my maiden voyage of parenting two very active boys by myself for the week. Ee-yikes!

Today went very well until bedtime. Then yikes again! We went to Chick-Fil-A for lunch which gave the boys a chance to run around a little. They did great and we had fun. BB even ate all his chicken for the first time ever, but poor thing forgot to beg me for a brownie before hand, so I didn't have to get him "a brownie if you eat all of your chicken." Oh well! Nap time went great and BB only climbed out of bed once. A victory!

This afternoon we took it easy on the TV (only 45 minutes - wow!) and had some great races in the hallway - running, hopping, leaping, skipping, and marching. Then bedtime. Yikes (of course I know I'm overusing this word).

The kids were in bed by 7:30, but that is when the fun (ahem) began. BB is our problem bedtime child. He climbs out of his bed numerous times, asks for snacks, puts things in his brother's crib, jumps around in his bed, throws things out of his bed, etc. Cute, huh? Well he is, but not so much when we're ready to end the day. So there was a lot of mayhem going on.

The problem is that LB is a total mama's boy and can't stand it when I'm not right with him. So every time I have to put BB back in his bed, LB screams "Mommy! Mommy!" Well not every night, but tonight. So after putting BB back in his bed about 4 times, one time after which he came down to the kitchen for a cheese stick, and one time after which I found him sitting in our bedroom playing on my computer, I decided to bite the bullet and stay in their room until they went to sleep.

All was pretty quiet as I silently listed the 50 United States in alphabetical order four times, until BB stood up in his bed and was trying to touch me. Anything to get my attention, right? So I got up to rub his back and hair for a few minutes seeing if that would put him to sleep. He was quiet, but as soon as I stopped he started to stand up again. So I left. And LB screamed bloody murder for several minutes.

I decided to just let them fuss for a little while and take a break, but when I went back up BB was on his way to our bedroom again, the little stinker, and LB was still screaming. I'd had it! I don't remember exactly what then transpired, but I know that I not-so-sweetly scooped BB up and put him back in his bed and told him to go to sleep. Then I shut the door - a major no-no. But I know when enough is enough for me, so I just let them cry it out. LB gave up first, and BB eventually gave in, too. I went to check on them expecting BB to either be on the floor or in LB's crib, but he was sound asleep in bed. They both were. Halleluia!

So one night down, three to go! We can do it! Back to Chick-Fil-A tomorrow? Perhaps. But I do know that I need a good night's sleep, God willing. So I'm off. See you tomorrow.

Yikes. Double yikes!

Our first Christmas eve

2009-12-24T20:40:00.001-08:00

So it's not technically our first Christmas eve because really it's BB's fourth and LB's third, but it is the first year that both of our sweet, smart, strong boys have been able to grasp what Christmas is. All season we've talked about Jesus's birth, how Mary is Jesus's mommy, he was born in a manger/stable/barn. We have talked about how Joseph was Jesus's earthly father and how God was his heavenly father. I've used the words adoptive father to describe Joseph, but it's hard to continue that metaphor since BB has a birthdad, an earthly father, and a heavenly father. I wouldn't exactly describe God as a birthfather, though, would you? But that's not really my point.

We have also talked a little bit about Santa Claus. I don't see any harm in entertaining a Santa Claus, as long as the main focus of Christmas is on Jesus. Maybe someday I'll be convicted otherwise, but as of today we are going with both. This is really my point.

So tonight was the first time we really "played Santa" for the boys. We set out the stockings for Santa to fill, put out cookies, coaxed the kids to actually fall asleep, which wasn't easy, and then fill the tree with some presents for them and for us and Granny. It made me so happy! I'm thinking this is probably the last Christmas we will actually get to sleep without having to corral BB back into his room at different points during the night. In fact, this might even be an issue tonight.

Last night at 2:30 a.m. (yep, I realize night is not a.m., just go with me on this one), Granny found BB curled up in a chair in the living room sleeping. We have no idea how long he was there, but she put him back into his bed and he slept until 7. So there was some discussion this evening about when to put the gifts out - before going to bed or before the boys waking up. As of 10:pm the gifts are out, so we'll see.

We had the boys each choose a cookie to leave for Santa. BB carefully selected a gingerbread man and placed it, well, gingerly on the plate. Then it was LB's turn. "LB, would you like to pick a cookie for Santa Claus?" He sure did. He grabbed a gingerbread cookie from the tin and promptly bit its head off. As the grown ups tee-hee'd at LB's exuberance, BB began to tear up. He was sad because his little brother had eaten part of Santa's cookie. I was so sorry not to have gotten that exchange on video!

After the boys were in bed, one of whom was asleep, the other unknown, we were getting ready to go to bed when I realized the cookie plate was gone. "Where are the cookies," I asked? Randy had put them away. I looked at him like he was from outer space and said, "Are you kidding? How will they know Santa got the cookies?" From there we had to stage the cookie ingestion. I took a gingerbread out and bit off its head just like my son. Then Randy ate the arm. Then, aw what the heck, ate the whole thing and left out some crumbs. Now that's the way to make sure Santa ate his cookies! (What are we going to do if he really comes and we've eaten his snack?)

So it remains to be seen what happens tomorrow. One of the great things about Granny's house is that Randy and I get to sleep in in the mornings while Granny tends to the little ones. But we don't want to miss their little faces tomorrow! I told Granny to hold them off as long as she could and then come get us. I will have the video camera out this time!

Merry Christmas!

Fair is fair.

2009-12-14T06:19:00.000-08:00

This morning I was pouring milk for the boys, one in a short cup and one in a tall cup. The tall cup actually had less milk in it because I planned to give it to LB and he doesn't drink as much milk as his big bro.

When I got to the couch where they were sitting I gave both cups to BB so he could decide which cup he wanted. He started to go for the short cup, then held the two up together. Noticing one cup was bigger than the other, he gave the short cup, the one with more milk, to the little guy.

All is fair in love and brotherhood!

Now for something that might actually be interesting!

2009-11-30T12:26:00.001-08:00

It's weird to go from a blog about infertility and the quest for parenting to a blog about daily life with a toddler and a preschooler. Many times I feel like I have nothing interesting to say anymore besides BB did this and LB did that. See the pictures of my boys, aren't they cute? I'm tired, we moved, etc.

Now that our son BB by adoption is 3, a lot of the things which at first were adoption issues are now just parenting issues. Adoption does not really affect us day to day so there usually isn't anything really interesting to blog about on that front. But I'm having a hard adoption day today and thought I'd put it out there into cyberspace.

For someone who is just beginning to consider open adoption, it might seem strange to hear that you're likely more likely to want more contact with your child's birth parents than you get. I've always heard that and was thankful that it wasn't our experience. I have been very happy with the amount of contact we have had with BB's birthmom. I have not been satisfied with the level of openness with his birthdad. This has nothing to do with how I feel about him, because I really feel fine, thanks, but I so wish we could catch up with him sometime and that hasn't worked out yet.

I get it. It can be hard for birth parents. I would imagine that especially for the dad, who did not carry the baby and may not even have been a part of the pregnancy, to want to or understand how best to be a part of that child's life. In our case we saw BB's birth dad when BB was 2 months old and haven't seen him since. But I feel like I must point out that I don't believe that this stems from a lack of feeling on his part. I know how much he cares for BB and the life we try to provide for him. Fortunately, with the magic of Facebook we are able to keep in touch on some level, though, and I am so thankful for that! He is our Facebook friend and so are some of his family, giving BB a nice little extended family on Facebook. But nothing beats the face-to-face visit for sure.

So I am not too surprised to find out that it doesn't look good to meet up with him this trip. It was a possibility but is not coming to fruition. I understand we all have busy lives now apart from each other and it's difficult to coordinate. But I also feel like BB is getting to the age where he understands a lot more and will some day figure out that he has a birthmother in his life but not a birth dad. The more time that passes the more concerned I become that we will not see BB's birth dad in person again.

What I was not prepared for is the likelihood of our not meeting up with BB's birthmom this time, either, also due to changing life circumstances. This brings me a great deal of anxiety. I know it's been just this once, but what if this is an indication of things to come? What if she is out of our lives now? I'm trying not to let my mind go there, but I can't help it. I want what is best for BB and I think that means regular visits with his birthmom. Plus, I like her and want to see her, too. Selfish me.

Up to now we've had what I think is an ideal relationship with BB's birthmom. Randy's mom lives fairly close to her so we've been able to see her each time we've come to visit. There have been many opportunities for the boys and I to hang here for a week at a time which has made it very easy to continue visits. Last Christmas she came to our home and took our couch back with her for some new furniture. She was with us the weekend before LB was born and came to family pictures. We have had many chances to get to know each other and for her to spend time with BB.

I think I'm being dramatic about our relationship possibly being over, but it's how I've been feeling and I wanted to get that down "on paper." My guess is that this trip is just a bust in terms of trying to catch birthparents, but that the next time will work out better. It's the first time things haven't gone as planned. (As planned in my mind at least.) And it's only Monday which means that we could still work something out this week. I hope so.

Well, gosh. How cute are these?

2009-11-13T21:13:00.000-08:00

Pink's owner has been found!

2009-11-12T15:57:00.000-08:00

They live down the street. The woman who called me to ask if I had lost the dog told me that her neighbor across the street took the dog in for the night on Tuesday and took it for a walk the next day to see if anyone recognized her. They did! I'm not sure why she was missing her tag, or why her owners weren't looking for her, but I'm so happy to find out she is taken care of. She was a very lovely dog.

Sweet doggy.

2009-11-11T16:39:00.001-08:00

Ever see Annie? There's a song she sings when a stray dog finds her and decides they belong together.

Dumb dog, why are you following me?
You're as dumb as they come, dog,
Why don't you just let me be?
I ain't gonna feed you - ain't got a scrap for you,
Need you - don't give a 'rap for you
Dumb dog! Dumber than they come, Dog!
You're the most presuming dog that a human could know.

Ugh. The other day we met a sweet doggie we call "Pink" because she wears a pink, rhinestone-studded collar that currently has no tag attached. I am beginning to be afraid that her owner ripped the tag off and let her loose in our neighborhood hoping that someone will take her in.

She had been following a neighbor who was hoping we were the owners. The boys were so excited about the dog and she was so friendly and pretty, that I decided with some trepidation to keep her in the back yard until we found her owner. Pink and the boys played joyfully in the back yard for awhile before the humans and I went in for lunch and left Pink outside. She jumped the fence and was gone.

"Oh well," I thought, "we certainly don't need a dog!" but the longer she was gone I started to worry about her and miss her. After lunch BB and I were sitting on the couch and he said, "I miss doggy." I told him I missed her too and that she had gone to find her family.

The next thing I know I hear whimpering and scratching at the door, and lo and behold, Pink had jumped back over the fence and wanted to come in. So I let the stinker in. She happily sniffed around and let the boys play with her. I took pictures. Then I put her back outside in order to make some signs to put up.

I made several haphazard signs to put up, and left Pink in the yard while the boys and I went to post them. When we got to our second stop, here she comes running by, having escaped again. I went ahead and left the signs thinking at least I would know if someone was looking for her. No calls. Well, I did get one call, but it was someone asking if we'd lost a dog. And let me say, this is no dumb dog. She grabbed one of BB's shoes when she left our house and carried it half way down the street. I think she was trying to return the shoe.

She didn't come back. After the boys woke up from their naps BB said, "Where did my doggy go?" and LB said, "Cant see her. Mommy, give dog this bell? My can't see her." Think they fell in love just a little? Think I did?

I told Randy all about it and he was just as happy to come home to a house sans dog. Part of me was glad that she didn't return, but part of me was hoping she would. This was Monday.

So last night when I returned from BSF and was preparing lunches for my guys, Randy looks out the back door and says, "We have a visitor."

I am beginning to worry about this dog. I really hope she is just jumping her owner's fence like she jumps ours. I just wish I could know for sure so I wouldn't worry about her. She is obviously a loved dog, seems to have been recently groomed, and is SO good with kids. BB liked to pry her mouth open to look at her teeth! She is also a young dog. Not necessarily a puppy, but maybe a tween? Ha.

We don't need a dog. Can I say that again?

What do you think I should do if this dog keeps returning - attach a note to her like a homing pigeon? That's laughable. Message in a bottle?

I really hope she does not come back again tonight. Or do I?

Something to say.

2009-10-29T07:30:00.000-07:00

My big kid has something to share. dvffrrrr5%Er5u4ef57fF$FX scssaa gveddef bbbbbnnneeeeeqqqqqq

Troo

2009-10-28T18:28:00.000-07:00

Well I survived. Ooh, golly it has been a painful day! There's nothing like illness or injury to make me realize how much I take health for granted.

I was able to fall asleep last night despite considerable pain in my back. I slept soundly until 3:45 when a sharp pain woke me up and discomfort did not allow me to go to sleep for about an hour. I woke up with Randy at 5:55 and waited for my turn in the shower. When I stood up there was no change from last night and I kept asking myself how I could possibly expect to be able to do an assessment today and carry in all my equipment.

In the shower I propped my elbows up on a shelf so that I could relax my back and I slipped, wrenching my back and leaving me in tears. But you know what, it felt better after that so maybe I inadvertently adjusted my spine! OK, well not completely better as I had bad pain several times after that and went back and forth about 10 times as to whether I should try to do the assessment. Eventually I settled on going and Randy packed the car for me.

Less than 2 hours later I arrived at my former chiropractor's office and he was able to get me in for an adjustment. I was still hurting after that, but considerably less. I was a little hunched over but able to walk without much pain.

I did the assessment and it went great! It was a really neat experience. I had a student help me bring in my instruments as an educational assignment. For lack of other facilities we had to do the assessment in the room with this student's teacher and assistant teacher and they were amazed by this student's musical abilities. So was I! It was really fun and obvious that this student should qualify for services. The teacher helped me carry all my gear back to the car and I made it safely home.

So tomorrow I have to parent again after a 36 hour break, and I have a feeling there will be a whole lot of Dora going on while my back continues to recover. I have an appointment with a local chiropractor on Friday so I can get back on track. He is also a physical therapist, and I have a feeling some PT will be in my future.

Three unrelated items of interest:
1) My talented, sweet and beautiful friend and fellow music therapist became engaged last night! Congratulations, Stefanie and Greg!
2) Don't read My Sister's Keeper if you're not in the mood for a good cry.
3) You can get kicked out of Meetup.com groups if you don't attend regularly enough, and it feels a lot like rejection.
4) There is cake downstairs.

Not my best day.

2009-10-27T18:58:00.000-07:00

Today was rough. This morning as I awaited the FedEx with our closing documents in it and went back and forth on whether I was going to make it to MOPS after the FedEx arrived, I cracked a toenail on my right foot with the closet door. Ouch.

We made it to MOPS an hour late, and worth it I must say, only for us to get home and have two little boys refuse to nap. I had to take them to a lovely friend's house at 3:15 for her to care for them while we had the closing docs notarized, so they really needed a nap, especially sweet LB who still really needs that afternoon nap.

By the time I resigned to the fact that they would not have a nap today, my back had gone out and I could barely walk. I got them in the car with significant pain and lamaze breathing (and no, not for its traditional purpose) and waddled up to my friends door with the boys. I crept along to the notary and to Office Depot, for I am supposed to conduct a music therapy assessment tomorrow and I needed to laminate some pictures, and again somewhat miraculously made it back to the car.

My back hurts so much and practically every step is excruciating. Tomorrow is the best day for me to do this assessment, so prayerfully I can get to the chiropractor beforehand. I know most normal people would cancel that assessment, but I just can't bring myself to. However, if this is not significantly better in the morning I don't know how I can possibly manage.

This day is yucky. Thank God for my dear husband who picked up the boys, fed them dinner, fed me dinner,and is now preparing to take them to school in the morning for picture day. Ugh.

Saying goodbye to the old house

2009-10-19T11:26:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday Randy and I dropped our boys off at a drop-in day care for the day and trekked up to our old house to do some last minute cleaning and to pack of the last of our stuff.

People have asked me if I missed our old stomping ground and I wasn't really sure how to respond. Mostly I miss my friends, choir, and church home. I wasn't really missing the city itself. Until we went back. It's so beautiful and full of character there. We've moved to a much bigger city in a mostly non-University environment and it's just not the same. (Of course it's not the same, it's a different city!)

We ate lunch with our dear MOH Jennifer and watched the Red River Rivalry on the big screen. We then went to the house. It was the first time I had been back for 7 weeks or so, and it was emotional.

First I saw the fence that we recently put up to keep the boys in the yard when we played outside. Then the grassy spot where I took BB's Halloween pictures the day LB arrived surprisingly. Ugh. That made my heart ache. Then the fence where we used to wait for sweet Zaylin to come to our house. Then when she would leave BB would cry, "Zaylin away!" We don't have any neighbors here who come walking through our backyard to come play.

Then into the house where we first lived as husband and wife, the living room where we had our first kiss, the room formerly known as yellow where we brought BB home. The home where LB developed and grew in utero and where we brought him after he was born. We spent years of joy and heartache in that home and this was the last time I would see it.I mourned appropriately and engaged in more than my share of sentimentality.

As we left for the last time and I watched the garage door close slowly, shutting all of our history inside, I became very sad. But then I realized how blessed we are to be leaving that place all together as a family. It's a much happier occasion than leaving a home where your parents had lived and died, a room where your child slept the night before going to Jesus suddenly, or a home where your ex-husband or ex-wife still live. I decided not to feel sorry for myself at that point.

When we got home it really felt like home, while just hours before the old house still seemed like home. "It's nice to be home," I said, and realized what that meant.

Bye-bye Winecup Hollow. Thanks!

Sweet big brother.

2009-10-08T15:14:00.001-07:00

Here is a transcript of a conversation I heard today.

LB was crying a little bit and standing under the table.

BB: "What happened?"
No answer.
BB: "You bump you head in there?"
LB: "Es."
BB (in a sympathetic voice): "Awww. Sally make you feel better," as he brought Sally the car to his little brother.

Be still my heart.

Muddy day

2009-10-06T07:56:00.000-07:00

These guys had some fun playing in the mud the other day. Mostly LB got muddy, as you can see, but BB enjoyed feeding him leaves like a giraffe.

Going back to work.

2009-10-04T17:29:00.000-07:00

Well, sort of.

Once upon a time I was a music therapist. I had a few clients and was performing assessments for a local school district. Then out of the blue one day we learned that we would be adoptive parents in two weeks! I had to somewhat frantically find therapists to serve my clients and one assessment. That was almost exactly three years ago and I haven't worked a lick since. Well, not in the music therapy world at least.

Last week I received a call from the school district asking if I would be available to do an assessment. Although I'm available, we've moved! But we're about 1.5 hours away. But after some prayer and consideration I decided that if they didn't mind a therapist who was 90 miles away, that I would be happy to do the assessment. I'm hired!

I put together a proposal for services and emailed that baby out just now. I would imagine I would get out to see this student next week and write up my results over the course of a few days. Writing a proposal was fun. It was nice to use my brain in that way again. Also, I consulted with a friend and fellow therapist with whom I used to work, and we had a nice afternoon doing business together.

So I'm not planning for a full-time retreat to therapy, because honestly, it's a very giving profession and a lot of my giving is required for my two little boys, but an assessment or consult here or there would be welcome.

Back to work!

Miniature roadie.

2009-09-27T18:20:00.000-07:00

Curious Georges

2009-09-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

Found this picture the other day and had to share it. The boys were looking out the window at the family of "diwwos" (armadillos) that lived at our house for awhile.

The adventures of Good-Enough Mom!

2009-09-21T12:32:00.001-07:00

OK, the whole Supermom thing is a myth, but of course I already knew that. My new superhero name above needs to be more clever. Anyone have any ideas? Good-Enough Mom doesn't really flow well.

I am good enough because being a mom is a 24-7 job and who can do that well 100% of the time? Last night we were up from 1:30 to 3:30 with a very sleepy and still-getting-adjusted 3-year-old. Then this morning we had several disasters and went through almost a whole roll of paper towels cleaning up messes. I am good enough because the disasters are nearly forgotten and I have 2 boys resting upstairs.

I am good enough because even when I eat snacks for meals my children still get most food groups at most meals. They usually have clothes on and usually are pretty interested in life. They only bite each other once in awhile and a lot of times they even act like they love each other. Most of the time it looks like I love them, too, but even when I'm scowling at the backs of their heads in the double stroller at Sea World after one younger brother who shall remain nameless refused to wear shoes, I'm still good enough.

So we're back online after a few weeks of intermittent internet service, so maybe I'll start posting more. I've found that with Facebook I haven't posted as much on this blogeroo. Sorry. (Gilly......)

Day 5 - My Superpower!

2009-09-15T11:32:00.001-07:00

My superpower is remembering the phone number of the pediatrician's office while a citizen (BB) is screaming in my ear having been stung 3 times by a wasp.

He's fine. I have him "grown up juice" as a treat (caffeine free diet Coke). Now he sleeps.

Day 3 - sidekicks

2009-09-14T12:44:00.001-07:00

Superheroes usually have sidekicks, right? Well, I guess Spiderman doesn't, and Superman doesn't, but Batman does. Maybe Batman is the only one with a sidekick, so that kind of blows my theory.

But they all have tools, right? Like Batman has those little sharp bat thingies to throw, Superman has a cape, etc. So I shouldn't feel badly about not being able to do everything on my own.

This Supermom has Curious George.

My daily realization - I can do everything! Just not all at once.

Can I get an amen?

Supermom Plan - Day 2

2009-09-13T14:25:00.000-07:00

It's the Sabbath. Supermom gets a day off and functions as a mere mortal.

Day 1 - Supermom Plan

2009-09-12T06:11:00.001-07:00

OK, folks, summer's over. And (gasp) you can actually sense that from the weather in Texas these past few days! It has been rainy and cool. We haven't seen rain like this for months and months, and it is a welcome change. But actually now I'm ready to get these boys outside again.

The house is eerily quiet. I guess Supermom would figure out why.

Supermom's telepathic powers would have told her that while she was, er..., "resting" (you know, in the room of rest) the superkids had gone outside in the front yard on their own.

All is well on "Planet Mom" (stealing this title from MOPS)

Currently my definition of "Supermom" of two toddlers is that everyone is alive and relatively full at the end of the day. I know that Supermom is a myth and I can settle for "good enough mom," but that doesn't mean I can't make some improvements.

Improvement need area #1 - activities for my super gifted, rambunctious, curious, busy big kid.
Improvement need area #2 - a little more organizing and a little less facebook

That's not too much to think about for a start, right?

OK, I'm thinking about it.

Still thinking...

Neeto speedo.

2009-09-05T17:36:00.000-07:00

Oh for heaven's sake give me a break - I'm tired.

I found my local knitting store. It's called Yarnivore. Although I've never been there before, how clever is the name Yarnivore? Get it? People who count on yarn for survival. OK yes, I lived happily before learning to knit, but it sure has helped me remain calm during all this moving business. Even though really Randy has done most of the hard work, it is emotionally stressful to move to a new city. I've sort of felt like knitting can be a constant weaving together of my two homes, old and new.

First I knit small projects like pot holders and drink cozies. I knit a coin purse, a sunglass case, and then a scarf. I asked some seasoned knitters about what I should learn for my next project and they suggested hats. So for the past month I've knit 5 hats! Four in my soft, purply Malabrigo from Gauge, and one in an orange from Michael's. I must say there is no comparison between a yarn sold at Michael's and one at a speciality yarn shop. I'm now totally hooked on the good stuff.

Then my nice friend Carly at Gauge helped me pick out a new project - a felted purse in a gorgeous wool blend called Noro Kureyon. This would certainly make a scratchy hat but a cool purse. I'm almost finished.

A few days ago I had the boys at my wonderful mother-in-law's house for a few days. One of those days I took BB to visit his birthmom while I ran an errand to give them some quality alone time. I looked up the local knitting store and ended up walking out of there with an extremely soft and yummy chenille blend called Touch Me. Ooh, it's luxurious. I would like to swaddle myself in it and stay that way for a long winter's nap. The project must remain nameless, but I can't wait to finish it!

So I'm a knitting fiend these days. I'm hoping maybe it will help me lose a bit of weight because I'll be knitting instead of eating chocolate? Hmmmm. Maybe.

I'll post a picture of my WIP someday soon.

(And no, I'm not planning on knitting a speedo. Never you fear.)

I love my two boys!

2009-08-14T09:44:00.001-07:00

But I'm hiding from them right now. LB has hit the "terrible twos" and things have gone haywire. Add that to not knowing where we are going to live in two weeks, I'm a little stressed. So that means "bye bye responsibility" for me as I let Randy work while I play Scrabble, Puzzle Spot, and Spot the Difference on Facebook. Best go relieve that sweet man.

Ah, here is BB. Let's see what he has to say:

˛¸ccfefdsazs
eeerw431112345780-=xxxxxxvbn,mmmmmbbbbbbgggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggbbbbbbbbbbbbvvvvvvvvssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

We just officially didn't get the house we liked, but we expected that anyway.

BB says, "my turn my turn my turn." Here he is:

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnvvvvvvvvbvvvvvvvvvvaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuhjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj