Mommy Spring Break!

I'll be taking a staycation this week in my own home. I'm so excited!

Step one: making my bedroom oasis look nice. We have a nice, large bedroom with a little corner just for me. I'm sitting there right now on my couch with my feet up on an ottoman. Nice. But the room is a mess and doesn't feel very oasissy! I'll put in a new Scentsy fragrance, tidy up some messy spots, vacuum, and have a mini spa bedroom. Ahhhh...

Step two: eat lots of berries. I have a huge container of raspberries and a container of strawberries that I plan to indulge in daily. Perhaps I'll have raspberry waffles one morning for breakfast and a strawberry yogurt parfait one afternoon (or four).

Step three: get some errands run and maybe even shop for Baby Girl Standridge!

Step four: get my knitting on!

Step five: nap, nap, nap - got to catch up on some zzzzzz's.

So if you need me, I'll have my feet up so give me a few minutes to get to the door or the phone.

Oh hey, I forgot step .5. Drop the boys off at kid's gym camp every day!

Spring break is here!

A Moment

You know those moments when you fall in love with someone all over again again? I had one of those moments with BB today.

We were doing some youtubing, my two boys and I, the three of us snuggled up on the bed looking up mewing kittens and screaming chameleons and the like. I got the idea to look up baby girls.

I found a youtube video with a tear-inspiring song in the background while still shots appeared of a baby girl on her first day in the world. One part showed the baby girl in the arms of her grandfather. The baby, the music, and finally the grandfather got me emotional and I started to cry.

LB is not a fan of tears. He said to me, "Please stop crying, Mommy, can you please not cry?"

But BB, he is an empathetic and supportive little boy. He looked at me so tenderly, so sweetly, and traced the back of his fingers down my face. He just sat there with me as I talked about why I had tears. Then he got a big grin, took my face in his hands, and kissed my tears. I do this to him sometimes to make him laugh - eat his salty tears. And that is exactly what he did to me. It worked. I laughed. And I fell in love again.

This kid is a spark plug. I find myself correcting him dozens of times a day. He gets into any sugar he can find (because he's so sweet, I guess), he drops trash and other items on the floor the minute he finishes with them, and he plays too rough. And he's the sweetest, most sensitive, empathetic boy inside. He's sugar and spice. That kid is really something.

The no good, terrible, very good day.

Today started for me at 4:57 a.m. A little boy, who shall remain nameless, is suddenly a morning pooper. Yay. So today the big event happened super early. Randy has been getting in to work at 6 a.m. all week, so he got up, this boy got in our bed with me, and we finally fell asleep again at 5:40. Brother came in at 6:30 to start the day.

I told them to go play while I slept a little longer, so at 8 a.m. I came downstairs to a table covered in chocolate Lucky Charms minus all the mushrooms. Oh yes, I do mean marshmallows - it's been a long day. Also covering the table and floors were Starburst wrappers and jelly beans. BB had made breakfast! I found two little boys sitting on the back steps discovering dead bugs to pick up, and pretending to plant "magic beans." So cute. Messy, but sweet. Literally.



We met a seller from Craigslist this afternoon to buy a stroller for Baby Girl. We decided to try a new park on the way, but when we got there I thought it looked a little scary. So we left for another new park, which was equally dilapidated and did not include a playground. Basically it was grass and a worn-down pavilion. BUT, there was a ravine with a little bit of water in it into which the boys immensely enjoyed throwing rocks. We were there for five minutes before we had to go. Park problem solved.

Upon getting to the meeting place, I spoke with the seller who was late, so the boys and I went to Wendy's for a Frosty and yes, I admit it, an order of french fries which, to my credit, we split three ways. And it was good.

Off to the gym we went to burn off those calories! I had planned to get to the gym at two and we were there closer to four. I sat for awhile, swam for awhile, changed for a while, stretched, and made it home just in time for dinner at six. The boys' dinner was ready and on the table due to our late arrival. Yes!

Today was a comedy of errors at best. But a lovely day. Lemons, lemonade. A breakfast mess turned into magic beans, a park problem turned into rock-throwing fun, and a late trip to the gym turned into Mommy not having to make dinner for hungry boys. The boys were (mostly) in a good mood, they loved having an excuse to throw rocks, and they always love the "kids gym." I had a relaxing work out and just enjoyed a bowl full of leftover-taco soup after a quick jaunt to the corner store for some pinto beans.

AND I have a coffee date in the morning, AND a date with my husband in the evening. And now I say yes to Yes to the Dress. It is a good day. Ciao.

I just flew in from Ames, Iowa...

...and boy are my arms (and everything else) tired.

But seriously folks, I'm exhausted! It's 7:00 and I feel like could just go to bed, but I have a few things to do and I saved enough calories today to have a bowl of cereal and berries for dessert. This requires me to arise and go downstairs to the kitchen, and so arise and go I shall.



Tomorrow I will be 24 weeks pregnant, and I do NOT remember being so tired last time. Granted I am almost 5 years older and my kids don't nap and need to be entertained and taken places pretty much every day, plus I feel responsibility to do some laundry and prepare meals for my family of four once in awhile. (While pg with LB I only had two solid-food-eating people in our family.)

Wednesday is coming up and it is my loooong day, starting with BSF at 9am and going through children's choir (one more week!) and my choir rehearsal ending at 9pm. Perhaps I can catch a quick nap at Chick Fil A at lunch with my friend who I'll call Delores because half the time I forget her name and call her that anyway. Wednesday is the day that I try not to feel too guilty when we have Chick Fil A for lunch and Dominos Pizza for dinner! (Did I mention that my midwife suggested that I gained a couple extra pounds last month?)

So what's happening with me? Well finally this week people I don't know have asked me when the baby is due. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and think, "Huh? Oh, right!" Also, my lower back/sacral muscles hurt about 60 percent of the time despite my wearing a maternity belt when I can. I've been back to the chiropractor which seems to give me some relief but not as much as I'd like.

I'm exercising when I can, swimming two times a week and doing pilates and prenatal yoga, and I pretty much don't have any cravings besides the craving to rest and the craving to eat out anywhere that includes me sitting down and not preparing anything. I do hanker for hot wings regularly, but so far have indulged that only once. Girl Scout cookies are irresistible, or were irresistible until I stepped on the scale yesterday, and I'm into fresh fruit which is probably a better bet for me anyway. Oh well, I felt much better after reading what Jessica Simpson is eating during pregnancy!

Most importantly, Baby Girl is a super active little thing and the boys are very excited for their baby sister to come out. She kicks and punches pretty strongly, and I had my first experience on Sunday with a very obvious repetitive bladder punches. Mmmm, fun. She is more active at 10:30 am and 6:30 pm, and occasionally whoops it up first thing in the morning or right at bedtime. This does not keep me from sleeping yet, however, and I can make it from 9:30 until 6:30 without getting up to use any facilities. TMI!

I went off the sauce recently (Facebook), and plan to blog more, but lying down and vegging out is pretty much taking priority over everything right now, including BSF which is what I need to be doing tonight but might not. I'd rather just have my cereal and be done with it. Lesson, complete thyself.

Now what do I do?

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.

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.

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!

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?

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!

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!

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

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!

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

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!

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!

"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

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

Creation

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

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.

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)