Gracie

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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!

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.

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

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

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

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.

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...