Sharing my heart--The Foundation

It is dark here. The rain is pouring down outside, and our house is chilly in the autumn dampness. It's 5:30am. Apart from the drip-drop of the falling rain, the house is completely silent. A mug sporting an American flag and the phrase "Marine Wife and Proud of It!" sits in front of me at the computer desk, my open Bible and journal beside it.

This morning I believe the Lord allowed me to wake up when John's alarm went off at 4am because He had something He wanted to show me. The life of a mother is a busy one, and though I know I'll be tired later in this busy, busy day, I'm thankful that Jesus saw fit to give He and I some special time together without distraction.

For we are the circumcision, which worship God in the spirit and rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh. . .

Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of
the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all
things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ,

And be found in Him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith;

That I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the
fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable unto His
death...

Philippians 3:3, 8-10

Over the past year and a half, the Lord has been doing a deep work in my heart. He has used scriptures like the one above and others to show me my unwavering and unconditional place in Him. "To be found in Him..."

In Him is all sufficiency... who I am in Christ is not intrinsically linked to who I am in the eyes of others, or based on what I do or don't do. His love is not based on my own merit, nor in the merit seen by people around me and their ideas of what or who I should or shouldn't be. It is a vastly deep and at times heart-rending work that is not yet complete--I doubt it ever will be, because of our very human nature--but one that He has begun, giving me more freedom in Him than ever before. I'm just "in Jesus." Following Him alone, as He leads and guides.

But this morning He brought to light a new aspect of this truth. Certainly not one that I'd never heard before, but one that had never turned a light bulb on in my head like it has now. It started with a brief mention of the subject by our pastor in last night's service, and churned in my head literally all night long. By the time I awoke a little before four o'clock this morning, my heart and mind were burning with an urgent desire to be shown by my Lord more of this truth.

But by the grace of God, I am what I am. . .
1 Cor. 15:10

I've personally been given a freedom in Christ to just live in the knowledge of my identity in Him, which has then played out in some aspects with my relationship with those around me. If, by His grace, I am what I am, how can I deny that same grace to others, both in relation to their own walk with Christ and in how I view them? I confess this is a constant, unending struggle. Years of a critical spirit ingrained in my mind and heart from a young age is hard to undo. It's a vicious cycle--for many years, even as young as I am now, I was so sure that I knew the best and only right way for how to live this Christian life, that I was quick to pass harsh judgement on anyone who didn't meet up to my own ideals borne out of a deep-rooted self-righteousness. This, in turn, gave way to living in extreme fear of man, because, if I was judging others so harshly, I was certain they were doing the same thing to me.

And for many years... they were.

But God has used a new realization of Himself, brought about by a breaking point in my late teen years and a number of Christ-centered people (one of which being my husband, others my own parents and my in-laws) who have loved me in Jesus, regardless of anything at all, to slowly but surely chip away at that thinking and give me a new mindset. Eyes focused on Jesus alone.

I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I
will guide thee with mine eye.
Psalm 32:8

But this morning, a new facet of this became clear to me.

How does this foundational truth relate to not only the people I come in contact with daily, but to those I'm with nearly twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week--my children?

Now, let me just say that I'm a believer in young parents not giving out unsolicited parenting advice to the masses that doesn't suit their season of life or personal experience thus far. And I know that I don't "have it all together" at this point and never will, nor do I seek to place myself in a place of pretending experience I don't have. So I'm just sharing with you where my heart is "at", this early morning, unsure of just where it all leads or how it completely plays out practically. But one thing I hope and pray is that no matter how old John and I are, or how many years we've been parenting, the basics of what God's word says about our relationship with Him and the foundations of how we impart that to our children will never change.

Here's the light bulb that popped on in my head this morning...

My child(soon-to-be-"ren") is learning, from me, what it is to be a Christian. His first inclinations of who Jesus is and what it means to even be called a Christian comes from his observations of his Daddy and I. How we relate to Christ on a day-to-day basis, in every situation, is making a lasting impression on our son's heart and mind, and will form the foundation of how he views the Savior once he is old enough to understand. But it is often said and is oh-so-true that children are the quickest to discern hypocrisy. We can "do" the "Christian parenting things"--pray before meals and bedtime, read Bible story books, take him to church, train his behavior, dress him correctly, school him "the only right way," etc., etc. But if I tell him with my mouth that our identity is in Christ, and then teach him with my actions that we behave in just such a way that Mommy and Daddy and other people are pleased with us... what will speak louder? If I train him to "behave" in public or even at home, according to a set of rules that I think are applauded by other parents who seem to have it all together, because I want a good reflection on myself... what will speak louder?

I can't help but wonder how even the littlest things are shaping Troy's little life. When he wakes up at 3 or 4 in the morning and I'm dead tired... I can't say my response is always glorious. I want him to quiet down, lay back down in his crib and go back to sleep--certainly not be wide awake for an hour or two. If his does this quickly, he has a pleased and happy mama. If not... not so much. I'm afraid that such a thing--and many others like it--are the beginnings of teaching him that my happiness is derived from what he does or doesn't do. When he listens, obeys and doesn't get into the DVD closet for the umpteenth time that day, what is my response? Most of the time, I applaud him and rejoice when he is obedient, but can be quick and frustrated with him if he doesn't. Not only is this showing him that how we feel at the moment can be the basis for how we act, but it shows him first and foremost that he must "do" something a certain way to gain my favor... it is not unconditional.

Does this mean John and I shouldn't train our children? Uh, no. That's certainly not the point or the direction of my thoughts. But, it seems to my feeble little mind, that there absolutely has to be a higher purpose. A reason behind training that goes far beyond our own desire as parents to have children that look the part. How scared I've been at times when we are with friends or in public and Troy misbehaves. What are they thinking of us?! After a tantrum in a restaurant which renews my zeal for "training"--I'm afraid it's often stemmed from a realization that if we don't get a handle on this, we'll look like Really Bad Parents.

John and I talk often of the huge responsibility we have to raise our children "for the Lord." But what does that mean? We've been given these little-big blessings to our lives, not for our own benefit, but to point them to Jesus, to bring glory to Him. Not glory to us. He's given them to us so that we can show them Himself, so that they might in turn do the same to their own children and others around them.

He is our greatest example of a parent--our Heavenly Father. If He has shown us His unconditional love, our freedom to live following Him and not others, how much greater our responsibility to impart that all-encompassing truth to our little ones... while they are yet little. Their first glimpse of Jesus is us... us! How they relate to Him will to a great degree rest in how they first related to us. Am I showing my little Troy that I base my love on what he does--actions that please me--rather than who he is--my son, forever and always? To his young heart and mind that has yet to fully understand the Heavenly Father, his Daddy and I are all he knows of such a concept. To him, our love is simply our care for him and the way we act toward him. We know that we will always "love" him, as parents always say, regardless of what he is doing or has done, but when "love" is defined by 1 Corinthians 13 (patient, kind, not envying, not prideful, boastful, rude or selfish, not irritable--easily provoked--or resentful, rejoices in the truth and not in wrongdoing, bears, believes, hopes and endures all things...) I'm not sure how well that statement will hold up to my actions or reactions.

I recently witnessed a set of parents dealing with some issues with their teenager. I stood in wonder and amazement as I saw them loving this teenager, even through actions that hurt them possibly more than they had been hurt by a child before, and through their pain, giving their child a glimpse of the Savior and Father who had more love for that child than the parents ever could. Through this, relationships were put back on the path to restoration. They gained the heart of their teenager and were, as a family, broken before the Lord. These parents were deeply hurt... and yet, miraculously and completely through God's grace and strength, they were able to show this teen His love. Are there consequences to the actions of their child? Of course. They didn't shelter the teen from that. But they pointed their beloved child back to Jesus... and where there could have been extreme anger, wounded pride, walls built between parent and child, a turning away of hearts one from another and from the Lord, bitterness and many other further problems, an entire family is facing a new direction together--toward the Heavenly Father.

Again, I don't claim to have these heart-thoughts completely "together" or know the end from the beginning. I'm just trying to figure it all out. Parenting is a huge thing... looking to Jesus is the only way we can do it... for our own sake, and for our children's sake.

When Mama isn't paying attention, the toddler discovers his life's calling

I just unloaded my camera card, intending to use a specific picture for a rather mediocre post.

Thankfully, Troy provided me with something of a little more, uh, substance.

Announcing: Troy David's First Attempt at Videography

Important Things to notice: Mama on the phone with a doctor's office, clearly distracted; Troy on Mama's lap at the computer desk; Monk & Neagle playing in the background, as usual these days; Mama's brown flip flops (two of a kind--big accomplishment, you know); Troy's red Crocs on the floor; and yes, that is the cat box over in the corner. Except we all get an upside down view of it. Special.

Oh, and just so you know who is who, given that there are no credits at the end of this masterpiece, the lighter blue cords are Troy's pants. The dark blue... that would be my knee. Crucial information, there.

Family prayer update...

Just real quick... I know some of you have been praying for the situation with my Gram in Alabama and her surgery...

Things have not been going so great the past few days, and I've just finally been able to post an update on my mom's blog. Thank you for praying... you can click over there to read the most recent update.

Overheard in the Toddler Nursery

Sunday morning. 11am service. 2's and 3's nursery. Snack time.

Picture eleven toddlers sitting at a horseshoe shaped table, happily munching on goldfish crackers and drinking water from little Dixie cups. Their "conversation" goes from one thing to the next at the same speed as their little feet swing and kick furiously under their chairs.

"Teachuhr? Teachuhr--guess what? I don't go potty in my bed anymo-uhr." A little face framed with blond curls grinned up at me.

I congratulated her on this amazing and great achievement. I mean, come on, this is monumental.

But then a little dark haired three year old shook her head sadly. The bow in her hair swung back and forth, closer to falling out, with each movement.

"I still have to wear doze spesheeul panties because I still go potty in MY bed sometimes."

And, of course, now all nine little girls and the two boys felt compelled to tell the group just how they were doing in the nighttime accident realm.

Listening to the verdict, I felt bad, bad for these poor parents.... and wasn't sure whether to look ahead at potty training with an optimistic expectancy or with fear and trembling.

Then the other nursery worker, Mrs. Malinda spoke up, bucket of goldfish crackers under one arm and juggling cups in the other.

"Guess whaaaaat?? I still go potty in my bed sometimes!"

Every tiny head was riveted at their beloved Mrs. Malinda--beautiful, grown up, and always loads of fun. Eyes were wide. Mouths gaped open.

Then--

"Wheeeeew." A long sigh was accompanied by the little towhead tossed back in relief. "That shoo-uhr makes me feel bettuhr!"

I'm afraid our uproarious laughter burst their little bubble.

Becoming Mama

Since Troy was sick with the croup last week, we were following the doctor's (and the internet's) suggestion of having him sleep in our room. We set up his porta-crib next to our bed and made sure the humidifier was blowing mountains of steam right in his direction. The week still produced more sleepless nights than we've had in quite a while. A couple times Troy ended up "in the middle" in our bed for at least a few hours... and though he seemed to crash out pretty quickly that way, his mama sure didn't have any such luck. Little wiggly sleepers seem to have as much ability to keep parents awake as a newborn.

Several times during the night last week, I found myself awake for a while, watching Troy sleep and his daddy try to catch a few winks beside him. I would cuddle Troy closer, remembering all the nights--the majority of his first year of life--when that was just his spot for at least half of each night, cuddled next to Mommy and Daddy. These days, we all sleep much better when he's in his own bed, but the memory of those snuggly nights will always be something I treasure.

As I thought back over Troy's little life, I pondered what we were doing this time last year. Then I remembered this post I wrote (published on the old blog) almost exactly a year ago.

Yesterday at my parents' house, Troy was being very "talkie" and so his Grammie took the opportunity to try to get him to say "Mama." He was staring very intently at her lips as she repeated it over and over, exaggerating the two syllables. Soon he was copying her, and this five and a half month old Little Boy has hardly stopped saying it since. All morning I've been hearing "Maaaa Maaaa, Ma mAAAA, Maaama..." Of course, I know that he does not really understand what his saying Mama means, but it still melts my little heart!

Sometimes the reality of the fact that I am this baby's Mama stares me in the face and completely overwhelms me. He looks at me with such baby-love and trust, believing that I will care for him, love him and guide him.

He doesn't know my weaknesses or my fear of incompetance. He doesn't know that his Mama is young and is sure that others are watching her wondering if she'll be up to the task of raising him with his Daddy. He just knows that this is the person who loves him, feeds him, cares for him, holds him when he cries and blows the tears away.

I know the truth, though. I know that this is an unbelievable responsibility God has given us. He has entrusted to us His little person and expects us to be
good stewards with what He's given us, not only in caring for him physically, but spiritually--leading him to Jesus. The enormity of it frightens me. It reminds me of how desperate I am for the strength of the Lord in this life long endeavor. In giving us this baby, God has given us the greatest means of drawing us closer to Himself. We see now, more than ever, how weak we are and how great God is. My baby... my blessing... It is all summed up when I hear his tiny little voice learning to mouth the word I've longed to hear.

"Mama."

Just remembering... where we were in the beginning...

And where we are now...

And how much farther we have to go...

ETA: I think an apology is in order for the size all these pictures are coming up if you view entire entries on Bloglines... I didn't realize that, and I'm guessing the problem is that in the Blogger to Bloglines transfer, the size selection from Blogger doesn't mean anything to Bloglines. I'll work on that in the future, peeps.

Prayer...

My Grammie in Alabama is going ahead and having her angioplasty today at 1pm CST. She's been a bit nervous, so we'd appreciate your prayers! For our friends and family, my mom or I will update when she can over here...

I'm actually scared of singing

Not really.

Just kinda.

So, that's a leetle bit really.

John and I are about to head out to our first choir practice at our new church... and I'm nervous.

We talked to our music minister for a while today after the morning service--he had planned to talk to us about it and we'd planned to talk to him, so, ya know, we figured that was maybe God or something?--and we were all excited to start up. We've been so impressed with the choir here, and after both of us being very involved in music ministry for... a long time... the past few months have been odd, just sitting and watching. Sometimes a break is good, but, we're ready for the break to be over. Same thing when it comes to doing stuff at church in general. Except that particular "break" lasted all of about two or three weeks. Why swim in the shallow end when you can dive into the deep end? :wink:

The things is... it's been quite a while since I've done much singing IN the choir. I played the piano for our church choir for several years before Troy was born, but wasn't singing. And I've only ever sang in a choir that sings this type of songs (i.e. level of difficulty) twice in my life...

So it's kinda scary to me. In a good way. But scary just the same.

I know... crazy.

And then there's John, who is just an old pro at all of it. He's been singing bass, tenor and/or a strong lead since before he could talk (slight exaggeration there) and has more musicality in his little finger nail than I could ever hope to have even if I studied at Julliard for the rest of my living days. He's not nervous.

But I'm putting on my closed toed shoes and heading over to church with great fear and trepidation tonight.

And laughing at myself all the way, so don't worry too much.

It's ALL about the food, peeps

As I've said about a zillion times (give or take a few), my mom is in Alabama right now.

It's not like I'm jealous or anything. Not at all.

I'm just... dying of envy over here.

Yesterday, I met my dad and brother part way between our two homes for lunch and to pick up their sweet doggie--since my mom is gone and the guys are going to be gone for a while, too, and the fact that our dog and their dog are bestest doggie friends, Brodie is going to stay here for the next week or so.

So, there we were, the three of us who were left behind. (Oh, and Troy, of course. But he doesn't know the difference. He was happily munching on In-N-Out french fries.) We were talking about my Gram's upcoming surgery and when we thought it might be rescheduled... and how much fun my Grammie and my Mama were having out there in the meantime.

Because, you know, they're doing things like having Steak Out for dinner. And going to Cracker Barrel for breakfast. And having chicken kiev and mashed potatoes and green salad with Gram's amazing and delectable and unbelievable and one-of-a-kind Roquefort dressing. And making great and wonderful plans to watch the Alabama vs. Georgia football game with my great-aunt, while screaming their heads off at the TV and eating Whitt's barbecue. On Sunbeam bread. With potato chips. And drinking SunDrop.

The three of us--who were 100% stuck in California, sitting on the patio, eating In-N-Out Burger--were silent for a minute. Clearly in mourning.

Then Dad said, "Man... I wish we were there... eating."

We nodded, completely dejected.

Then Zach did what he does best. He laughed. "Yeah, it's not that we all want to be there with Mom and Gram and Aunt Pat, or be there for the surgery, or be in Alabama just to BE there... we just want to be there for the food!"

Yup.

The truth is that we're all "homesick" for our family's little Alabama town, because to us, being there is better than Disneyland. For me, that beautiful place and John's tiny hometown in Colorado are my "happiest places on earth." And of course we DO want to be with my Grammie and just BE there. Just clarifying. Kinda.

But, once we're there, it really is All About The Food. Oh, and calories? What calories? They don't exist when you're in the South.

It just wouldn't be the South if they did, now, would it?

Of Monk and Neagle

Today I finally listened to my cd. This cd.

Due to a little mix up with addresses and such, I finally got the copy I was graciously given by Provident, through BooMama, a few months ago.

And all I can say is... Wow. Just... wow.

I popped the cd in when I got in the car today, full of anticipation. My first thought, though, was, What if I don't end up liking this cd? I mean, I've got their button on my sidebar... and I don't actually know if I like their music. Guess I shoulda thought of that. I've heard a few of their songs on video clips and short sound clips, and yet hadn't heard the whole cd... But hey, I just trusted BooMama's judgement, and therefore liked Monk and Neagle through her, right or wrong.

So the first song started. I think I do actually like this...

Then the next song came on--"The 21st Time. " It gave me chills. I think this is going to be my favorite song on the cd...

Then "Hallelujah Jesus." Changed my mind. SO worshipful. I fell in love with this song.

I smiled all the way through "Stars Would Fall." How neat is it that these guys have songs to their wives on their cd.... this sounds like something John would sing to me... I love it when he sings to me... wow, I'm actually one of those girls whose husbands sing love songs to her... I'm so blessed... oh yeah, the song... I love this song.

Then. THEN. "What Soldiers Do." Why wasn't I warned?!? I bawled. Seriously, bawled my lil eyeballs out. As in, I'm not sure it was safe to be driving. That one was a wee bit close to home.

I could give you a play-by-play of my thought process through each song (and how the big public transportation bus behind me had to honk, oh-so-gently, when I was listening to "More Than That" and the light turned green), but I'll spare you.

The better thing is to encourage recommend urge command you to make a stop at your nearest Christian book store and pick up a copy of this cd. The Lord is using these two guys... yessiree.

Clothie love

Ever since this post, I've received several questions, emails and comments about cloth diapering, and rather than keep writing emails, I'm going to answer in a post.

So, to those of you who think I'm a Crazy Nut, feel free to skip this post. Unless, of course, you want to just confirm what you already thought and what we all know to be true.

But before you go thinking I'm a complete loon, let me just say that I use cloth diapers because I actually like them. Truly. I'm not lying. And so does John. In fact, he's more into it than I am--which is definitely saying something. There's just something so... nice, for lack of brain power to think of a better word... about putting a soft cotton diapie on little baby buns. Add that to the enormous amount of $$$$ saved by being able to "re-use" your diapers rather than tossing them, and I'm hooked. I even like washing and folding the diapers, believe it or not. Will we still be using cloth when we're on our fourth child? Who knows... but for now, it works for us.

Now, do I LIKE rinsing yucky diapers in the toilet.... uh, no. But we've honestly had more total blow-outs (the kind that require the clothes themselves to be either rinsed out or tossed) in disposable diapers than we have in cloth.

There's a half a million other reasons why I like cloth, but it really doesn't matter. Because if you want to use 'em, you're going to and you'll have your own reasons, and if you don't, then you won't. So profound, I know. But the one thing I must say is that we're probably one of the least militant cloth diapering people you'll find... we prefer balance, and don't see cloth diapering as being a matter of biblical importance. ;) Just our opinion.... and, honestly, one that can and has been disagreed with, believe THAT or not.

So here's the answers to the questions.

• When did you start using cloth? The majority of our diapers were given to us as baby gifts before Troy was born (we had registered at cottonbabies.com) and then we just added to our "stash" little by little as we needed bigger sizes. But for the first couple weeks, while we figured out, you know, how to be PARENTS, we just used disposables. (Pampers Swaddlers... aahhh! The best... I wish they made them for bigger babies.) We don't know when we'll start putting the new baby in cloth this time... maybe sooner, since we're pretty used to it now, or maybe later, being that we will have two little people in diapers.

• What kind of diapers do you use? We've tried several brands and types of diapers, and we have found that we're just plain ol' prefolds and covers kind of people. We love our Chinese prefolds and our Prowraps covers, and we just use a hemp doubler at night. We originally used about 24 regular (small) prefolds and four Bummis covers, but as soon as Troy grew out of the smaller sized Bummis, we switched to Prowraps because they have a "gusset" around the legs that greatly helps in reducing leaks. This is the same reason we weren't too impressed with our FuzziBunz... Troy wore them most often at night and almost always leaked out of them. Now that he's older and eats solid food all the time, that isn't really a problem, and Bummis work well, but for newborns and infants, I'd strongly recommend the Prowraps or something similar. (I haven't yet tried the "next big thing"--the BumGenius diapers--so I can't give any sort of info on those. I'm hoping to try a couple with the new baby, though, just for fun.)

• How many diapers do you buy to begin with? The most sought-after Q&A! I searched and searched for an answer to this one before we had Troy, and could never quite find the perfect answer. We ended up with about two dozen of the small prefolds and four newborn sized covers. We washed diapers about every other day with this, although I'd say it's better to have a few more covers than that. In the beginning, having only four caused us a little stress at times. We also had four of the small sized hemp liners for nights. Troy was terrible when it came to diaper changes during the night (you'd think we were seriously hurting him or something), so we tried to keep those to a minimum, but in the first few months, at least one change a night is usually a necessity. Thus more than two hemp liners for those night times diapers. By the time we needed to get the next size up of anything, we had a better idea of what we needed, didn't need, wanted more of, or thought we'd try, so it's a bit easier the second time through.

• How do you wash your diapers? The best and most FUN question of them all. :wink: There are about as many "right" ways to wash diapers as there are cloth diaper users... but, just for the record, here's what we do.... when we change a diaper, it gets rinsed if needed/dirty and then goes directly into the dry pail. (Along with the wipes, if you're using cloth wipes... which we haven't with Troy, and plan to begin doing once this bebe has arrived.) One Very Helpful Thing is using these liners in your diapers once your baby is eating solid foods. Breastmilk poop is water soluble and doesn't always need to be rinsed, but once the baby is eating solids, it's absolutely necessary, and these liners save a TON of yucky rinsing. Just pull out the liner and flush it. Diapering bliss. :) When it's time to wash, I dump the diapers into the washer and do a couple hour cold soak with about a quarter cup of baking soda. Then I do a spin cycle to get rid of the rinse water and switch the washer to HOT before doing a regular wash with regular detergent. When the washer hits the rinse cycle, I add a splash of vinegar, then finish the whole thing up with a second regular rinse cycle. As for drying... the very best thing is hanging your diapers on the line to dry--the sun bleaches them and keeps them fresh and white. (Covers should never be put in the dryer though... it can ruin them.) We still haven't got our line put up since we moved, so I'm still using the dryer for our diapers. No fun.

So, if you're still with us...

I can't think of much else that's really important, except for remembering the fact that cloth diapering is a system, and as such, has to be one that works for you. This is just what works for us and Troy... ask me again when the new baby is six months old and I'm sure I'll have different recommendations or ideas.

Hope this answers some of those questions... if not, ask some more. If you're already a cloth user, I'd love to hear your fav's, your likes and dislikes... or any info I've missed.

To the rest of you, I'm impressed if you're still reading. I feel sorry for the extreme boredom that could only have induced you to read through this expose.

And back to normal blogging we go....

Baby of Mine

I must beg your forgiveness.

Especially if you have dial-up.

I know there's been a lot of pictures around here lately, and not a whole ton of content, but here's the deal.

We have lots of family. Oh, you do too? I shoulda guessed it.

But, the thing is, most of that family reads this here little bloggie place (although only very occasionally do any of them comment, ahem, but I STILL know that they are reading) and none of them get to see us very much... so when we happen to have some pictures worth showing (or not worth showing, depending on who they are of... :cough: ) this is the best way to show those pics.

Also, like I said before, my mama just went to Alabama, and I know she has her laptop with her, and I also know she'll be popping in over here. And though it might take a little while to load All The Pictures on my Gram's dial-up, I know my Gram will love seeing some pictures of this little family, the little man and the little-man-on-the-way.

The other reason this is just a plain ol' picture post (and the reason a plain ol' picture post has turned into ramblings about nothing, using a whole ton of words) is because my brain is running on about half a cylinder this morning due to less than an hour and a half of sleep last night (hope that barking cough didn't wake you up, too) and I don't have the energy to post anything besides pictures.

That's the real reason.

So. Anyway.

More pictures from when my photographer sissy was over last week...







There are birds in this tree?

Blue eyes... Concentration... and chewing on the insides of his cheeks. Makes for a great pic. ;)


Troy's sign for "please"--hugely adapted by him, and from Japanese sign language at that. It's a long story, but, hey, it works.
Gentle correction...

Must. Dance. All. The. Time.


Never mind the shadows... gotta love the expression.

It always takes fewer muscles to laugh than it does to cry

So. Ahem.

An ultrasound this morning revealed that John has a gall bladder chock full of gall stones--which not only explains the fact that he spent last Thursday night on a stretcher in the field hospital with an IV, due to severe dehydration and extreme sickness that didn't go away like one would expect a stomach bug or food poisoning to do--but also means that this gall bladder needs to come out. Like, as in, PRONTO. Because the plan is to have a baby here in a little over a month, and then he's scheduled to head to the Sandy Spot a few weeks after Christmas. That doesn't leave too many "good windows" of time for surgery and recovery, now, does it?

::laughs::

::shakes head::

::does both at the same time::

Oh, and that barking sound you hear forcing it's way through the computer screen? That's just Troy. The toddler with croup. Who doesn't realize he's sick and thus wants to run and scream and play outside as if he's quite healthy. Until, of course, he can't breathe a minute into said running spree.

So this is how you'll find him at the moment.


We've been through one DVD of the Doodlebops, one of Elmo's World, and we're currently working on Thomas the Tank Engine.


This is not normal, folks. This is not normal.

My mom is flying as I type to Alabama to be with my grandmother during her angioplasty and recovery... which was originally scheduled for today but had to be postponed due to her sodium levels being too low. My mama flew out anyway, and we'll just have to wait and see when the surgery actually occurs and when Mom ends up coming home...

So, I'm laughing this morning. Because in the scheme of things, crying SURE isn't worth it. And, though perhaps a wee bit overwhelmed by the anticipation of John having surgery right now, I don't feel like crying. Not when I look around and see people who really do have cause to shed tears... and yet are not only smiling themselves, but encouraging us to do so along with them.

Like Kelli... who is in the middle of battling a very serious infection.

Or Heather... who is starting another week of chemo today.

Or Ashley and her family... this precious baby is in the hospital once again and is having a very hard time.

Or Amy's family... dealing with the loss of sweet Amy.

Or Mel... a sweet Christian girl, younger than me, whom I just recently found in the blogosphere. She lost her fiance while he was in Iraq in February.

In the scheme of things, a gall bladder surgery doesn't seem so big. John's not worried... we know our wonderful Lord knows what He's doing when He drops unexpected circumstances into our laps at odd times, and that if He knows, why should we wonder at something "smallish" like this?

He's just plain bigger than that.

Big little boy...

Last weekend, John was getting his gear together to go to "the field", so I did what any completely ridiculously obsessive Marine wife would do, and grabbed my camera.

So I could take a picture to send to his mom, of course.

I told him to smile, but that looked very un-Marine-like, so I changed my mind and he didn't. Which, combined with the weight on his back, made him look rather... awkward.



He said, "It's fine... my mom won't care."

But I said I really needed a better pic.

And he gave me THIS look, which says...



"You're taking pictures to post on your blog, aren't you?"

Well, his mom reads my blog... same thing, right?

So.

He had called one night, from "the field," and was telling me about their day.

Now, you have to understand... with John's particular job IN the Marine Corps, he and the guys he works with don't do a lot of combat-type training, except when they're preparing for their upcoming trip to that Sandy Spot. (called the Sandy Spot here because of search engines--I think you are all clever enough to know where I'm talking about. :)) And I'll let you in on a leetle secret--as much as they try to keep up an indifferent front about it, they were all as excited as little boys in Boy Scouts about this week of training.

VERY funny to watch.

So I was talking to him on the phone.

This was the day they were doing patrol training, and, in his most animated voice (though he would never admit it) I heard all about how "we were going around, acting like we were patroling, and I was playing the part of the 'bad guys', and we had to go looking for the other guys..."

I was trying not to let him hear me laughing on my end.

Until this part.

"But, the real bummer thing is that because it's so dry out here, we aren't allowed to even use blanks. So instead, we have to just say, 'Bang! Bang!'"

And that's when I lost it. No longer could I contain my laughter.

I mean, are these are 200 grown men, right? Are we sure they're not little boys this age?

Pregnancy Peek-a-tures

As requested and as promised for the past few months...

...and much to my own chagrin, for the pathetic fact of the matter is that everything I didn't want to look like at this point of this pregnancy, I do.

But, to keep from being lectured on why I should just show the pictures and not comment on everything I dislike about them...

I give you pregnancy pictures.






33 weeks... just a few more to go...



My very dearest sissy friend is a photographer, and so, for the fun of it, we spent a while taking some pictures this morning.

Or, attempting to please my rather ridiculous sense of what a perfect expectant mommy is supposed to look like is more like it.

Poor Bethany.

I warned her before we started that I would most likely sigh over these when we were done. And I was right.

She said all sorts of great photographer-ish things about always being your own worst critic, that the pictures never look the same to the subject as they do to other people, that I have A BABY inside of me, for goodness sake, and that not everyone is going to carry a baby like a Motherhood model.

I told her just to wait until SHE is the one who is eight months pregnant. We'll see what she thinks then.

We eventually gave up trying to take pictures and keep up with a very active little guy...



... after trying a few times to get him to be IN them.



But he just wanted to play, of course. We WERE at the park, after all, and what little person wants to sit around playing with his own blue ball when he could be running like a wild banshee, sliding down the highest slides and giggling on the swing?

Not one that I know of.

So we just turned the lens toward him--I say "we", but of course I mean the professional, not me. I just turned my watchful mommy-eyes toward him--and let him play. But those pictures will have to wait a couple days. There are just too many to choose from.

And I know that once this baby is OUT of me instead of residing IN me, he'll make a much cuter subject and his mama will once again be happier with pictures in general.

Because she'll be the one taking them.

So much for my week of blog-o-mania

John's been gone since Monday--out "in the field"--which, for those who don't know, is a training exercise for my Marine.

I had visions of all the blogging I'd be able to accomplish this week... writing post after post, browsing and surfing and commenting at leisure, catching up on my emails, getting nice and up to date in all the different places I'm "at" online, etc. etc. etc.

But so far, I've written one whole post (most of which was already written in draft form) and learned that "getting caught up on emails" is a laughable joke.

Sounds like quite the blogging spree, dontcha think?

It's funny the way "weeks of nothing" like this seem to stretch into the future endlessly when they begin, and then at the end, they have just flown by.

Monday was indeed a long, monotonous day. Troy was up very, very early, we were both tired, and by the end of the day, much as we love each other dearly, were quite bored of none but each other's company. Troy was wondering where Daddy was, crying at the front door, and I was VERY much looking forward to the approach of bedtime. Looking ahead at a week of this wasn't too appealing, and I thought seriously of just grabbing some clothes and driving out to my parents' house.

Nothing like running home to Mama and Daddy when their baby girl is overwhelmed. :grin:

I have to admit, it was much worse mentally than it was in reality, because I kept thinking, "Goodness gracious... if I'm feeling this mixed up and frazzled and bored all at the same time after the First Day of ONE WEEK, how on earth am I going to handle over a year of being alone with TWO little ones?!?!?"

In my exaggerating and dramatic mind, that was not the thing to dwell on.

Then came Tuesday. Troy was once again up at 5:30am, and by 8:30 we were both ready to get out of the house for a little while. We headed over the park right by our house and found two other mommies out early with their toddlers. The three of us quickly fell into conversation, discovering that all of our toddlers had been born within a month of each other in 2006, that we were all expecting our second child within a month of each other this time, and, best of all bests, that we were all Christians. I mean, how crazy is that? We ended up exchanging phone numbers, all pretty excited at the way this worked out... more accurately, the way God worked it out.

After that, I headed over to the movie rental store, planning to rent a stack of girlie movies to watch while I worked hard on a crocheting project this week. The store wasn't even open yet, so instead, Troy and I decided (together, of course, being that Troy tosses out his opinion so readily. Mmmhmm.) to go to a nearby bookstore for the story time we like to go to once a week.

I say that we go to story time because Troy enjoys it, but--shhh!--the truth is that it's his mommy who likes to sip a Starbucks coffee and browse a magazine or book while he plays with the trains and the other kids in the children's section. It's all for Troy, you know.

BUT, here's the other Great Thing. At story time was a group of mommies from a playgroup here in town with lots of little ones around Troy's age, who were just certain that this mama and toddler needed to be part of their group.

Now, I've been to story time before when there are groups of mommies, and, I must say, there has never once been a time when it was easy to talk to any of them. You know, they're usually all very, extremely "put together"--make up, hair, perfect clothes in place--and like to stick to their own kind. My jeans, maternity shirt, and flip flops, even WITH my hair in place, just don't seem to fit their bill.

But this playgroup was just a normal set of moms, nice as could be, and before I left, I was given their website where you officially "join" and was introduced as the new member of the group.

(Heeeeey, you have a weeeebsiiiiite? With a message board? Where you post pictures? With an online calendar of activities? I'm hooked and reeled in.)

So Wednesday, Troy and I once again headed over the park right next to our house for picnic lunches with some of the moms and bebes, and once again had a great time. Despite the fact that Troy always wants to play with the kids who are at least a year or two older than him (why???) he's had a great time the past few days getting all nice and dirty and tired out by nap time, and his mama is enjoying the nice long naps, happy-because-he's-busy little guy when he's awake, and tired baby at bedtime.

And this morning, he even slept till 7am. Ahhh... Sleeping till 7 is to me these days what sleeping in till 10am on a Saturday was pre-baby.

So between All the Fellowship the past few days, doing lots of things online except for posting, working steadily on this particular crocheting project, watching not very many girlie movies and instead hearing the theme songs to the Doodlebops, Winnie the Pooh and Thomas the Tank Engine several times through, and, you know, normal things like laundry, ironing, cleaning up the house, changing diapers, keeping us fed and such... I've been a bit busier than I could foresee on Monday. Which is a Very Good Thing.

He's been faithful to me

Yesterday the final bit of a scab beside Troy's right eye fell off, leaving a pinkish area of new skin in its place. Almost a week ago, the little man was on his way out the back door when his wild and crazy best friend--Belle, the dog--jumped out the door behind him, knocking him down onto his face. The entire day his forehead, side of his face, cheekbone and eye area were red as could be from the bad scrapes and the next morning he had a slight black eye. The redness had pretty much gone away, although leaving a few good scabs in it's place.

Over the weekend, I was talking to someone who had been here when this little incident occurred and she asked how he was doing. I gave her an update, saying he was fine now... just looked like he'd been beat up, poor little guy. She remarked how sad it was when it happened--Troy was just happily stepping outside, completely unaware, and from out of the blue he was hit from behind by something twice his size, knocking his sweet little face down onto the hard concrete. He didn't even know what had hit him.

"Just like those times in life when you are just going along, and suddenly you don't know what hit you... you're knocked flat and it hurts so bad that it takes a minute to figure out what happened. Poor little guy... he was probably thinking, 'But you loved me, Belle!'"

I knew that when she said this and laughed, what seemed to be a passing observation was really wrought with deeper meaning, because this friend I was talking to, as we spoke, was in that very place. That place where you just don't know what hit you.

Heartache. Betrayal. A breach of trust. An unexpected cause of pain so deep it takes your breath away.

Each one of us has felt these to some extent, in some form.

Recently I've received several emails from people who are hurting and seeking help or assurance. A sweet young woman wrote in the past few weeks asking how to handle heartache and rejection in a relationship. At first, I wasn't quite sure how I was going to answer. I began searching my Bible for scriptures to help, and in the various ones I found for this response, I came across so many that speak of God's everlasting love, His lovingkindness, His grace, His strength, the fact that He never can, never will, forsake us. He cannot separate Himself from that which He has made become a part of His very being.

I didn't realize when I was writing out these scriptures that they would soon be applicable to my own life and those near me within a short time.

How excellent is thy lovingkindness, O God! therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of thy wings.
Psa 36:7

Hear me, O LORD; for thy lovingkindness is good: turn unto me according to the multitude of thy tender mercies.
Psa 69:16

Nevertheless my lovingkindness will I not utterly take from him, nor suffer my faithfulness to fail.
Psa 89:33

The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.
Jer 31:3

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.
Jer 29:11-13

LORD God of hosts, who is a strong LORD like unto thee? or to thy faithfulness round about thee?
Psa 89:8

Thy hands have made me and fashioned me: give me understanding, that I may learn thy commandments. They that fear thee will beglad when they see me; because I have hoped in thy word. I know, O LORD, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me. Let, I pray thee, thy merciful kindness be for my comfort, according to thy word unto thy servant. Let thy tender mercies come unto me, that I may live: for thy lawis my delight.
Psa 119:73-77

The LORD God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds' feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine highplaces.
Hab 3:19

The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.
Zep 3:17

People will fail... and fail... and fail. Circumstances will change at a moment's notice and knock us off our feet. We will stumble and fall. We will look around us and not know how we got here... what has happened?

But our God will never, ever fail. It is against His very nature. His love is perfect. His grace and mercy everlasting. We can look back on our lives and the hard times we've already been through, whether smaller or larger than what we're currently facing, and yet see that time and time again He has proved Himself faithful.

Often, when overwhelmed by circumstances or a situation, I'll write down in my journal the times when God has already been faithful. We can draw such comfort from the remembrance of what He's done in the past in our own lives.

Rejoice in the LORD, ye righteous; and give thanks at the remembrance of
his holiness.
Psa 97:12

Along with these others in my life, I'm learning afresh that when "all ELSE fails", He is there, remaining, holding and carrying us through... always faithful.

Look! I was creative!!

So, I went to my cousin's stamping party.

(I've just noticed I have an odd habit of starting sentences with the word "So...", as if we were already in the middle of this conversation, rather than that I was just beginning it. I think I picked this up from my friend Errica... though I haven't seen her face to face since she moved over a year ago. A strange one, I am. Please just disregard this wonderful tidbit of incorrect grammar. I did get good grades in the subject in high school, truly I did.)

Now, let me just tell you, I am 100% not a creative person. I'm deathly afraid of straying from "perfect" and thus can't bear the possibility of making a mistake that creativity demands.

You see, I was the little girl who, in first grade, spent an entire morning and its accompanying recess working on a craft-time farm scene--with construction paper and foam animals--trying to get it just right. My sweet teacher finally told me, when I asked to also stay in from our afternoon recess, that she'd have to put my picture up and I could finish it another day... but that I had to go to recess.

I never did see that picture again. I'm eternally scarred, as you can see.

The scene repeated itself many times over the next few years--in the form of tears when I couldn't get my "a's" to look identical to the computer-generated ones on my penmanship paper. Or when, once we began homeschooling in second grade, my mom (and teacher!) again had to tell me that no, I could not stay inside during my break to finish my Noah's ark project.

Creativity just doesn't run through my veins. I don't scrapbook, much as I hate to admit it. I don't stamp cards. I greatly enjoy sewing, although the fact that I need the seam ripper at least a time or two with each project is enough to keep me from doing it too much. I do love crocheting and some knitting. I also play the piano with mediocre proficiency... but you'll notice that the only "creative" things I do are ones that allow a strict adherence to a pattern or instructions or anything to keep me on track.

But, the point of all this rambling was to show you that, despite ALL of this, I went to a stamping party and was creative. It's unbelievable.

Behold, the fruit of my labors:

Just don't ask me to recreate them or come up with my own designs.

Let me tell you, though, some things are even more crazy than me actually stamping something that looks halfway decent, even WITH step-by-step instruction.

Most people around me are beginning to tell me that, at eight months pregnant, I'm actually starting to look like there's a baby in there. Despite how I FEEL about The Hugeness, these comments are often accompanied by statements regarding how small I look for how far along I am, and questions about the certainty of my dates. Depending on who is asking, I usually go into a long spiel about the fact that my midwives are actually thinking I may be farther along than "the dates say" and that my due date may be earlier. The poor listener is almost always sorry they asked, because we all know that when it comes to telling a story, I'm not one to take the short route.

But yesterday, at this party, I got a comment I hadn't heard yet.

"So, did you just have a baby?"

Ha. No... I'm about to have one. I don't know about you, but I sure hope I wouldn't look this big if I'd just had a baby. And if I HAD just had a baby recently enough that I looked like this still, you can bet I wouldn't be at a stamping party, and especially not at a stamping party without the One Day Old.

My actual response was a smile and, "No, I'm due to have one in about two months-ish."

I think this only confirms one of two things: I'm either much smaller than I feel and my mirror is fooling me, or I'm bigger ALL OVER and thus my baby tummy just fits right in.

And yet, the absolute funniest thing of the day was not the fact that I managed to get past my fear of doing something wrong and made four stamped cards, or the fact that I was thought to be the mother of a brand new baby rather than still carrying one. The most hilarious thing to me was the state of our house when I came home after only seven hours.

Toddler books spread across the floor, an entire toy basket's contents strewn around our lower level, books out of the bookshelf near the computer, a change of baby clothes in a heap next to the changing table in Troy's room, toys scattered around our bedroom, my hairbrushes on the bathroom floor, towels pulled off the towel rack, dishes in the sink... and my two guys, happily eating dinner together at the kitchen table.

When I laughed and commented on the, uh, new look (no, I was not upset--truly, believe me) the quote of the day came from my sweet husband's lips.

"It is HARD to keep up with him all day long."

Yep. Thus why I no time to cultivate creativity.

Fall has fallen upon us

In a beachy area of Southern California, such as the one we live in, the changing of the seasons is, in reality, a state of mind rather than a true state of the weather.

BUT, today, I'm sitting at my computer desk, munching on a juicy sweet orange, enjoying immensely the crisp, cool breeze floating through the window beside me.

This past week, after quite the "hot spell" for this beachy area (but one that still did not require the air conditioning turned on every day... which, to me, means it's not really hot until that a/c is necessary), it is actually a little chilly in the mornings. Last night, John and I were reading some scriptures and praying over a particular situation with the window open near our couch, and I actually had to cover my feet with a small afghan because it was so cold.

I was loving it.

There is nothing better to me than cold weather, and nothing thrills my little heart quite like a crisp, cool breeze. I was beyond ready for fall-ish-ness.

But let me tell you, what I was not ready for this week was the words of my midwife on Thursday:

"Well, you have five weeks until full-term."

What?!?

I guess I technically KNEW that, but I hadn't really thought of it... that precisely. Five weeks. (Which does, by the way, mean that I'll have five MORE weeks after that until I'm actually considered "overdue," so I'm not really holding my breath...) But, still, what craziness.

Due to some other aspects of life at the moment (some things of the heart can only be told to the heart itself and carried to the Throne of Grace...), I've been a bit bloggie absent the past few days, and have a great desire to sit and peruse the zillion posts accumulated on my Bloglines and leave the blogosphere peppered with comments. But I can't. I'm currently supposed to be taking a shower and getting ready for my cousin's stamping party in a little while.

And yet, here I sit, typing away in my jammies and thinking that breakfast orange was so tasty that I really wish I could eat another one. John is helping some guys from church move a family into base housing, and the only sound I hear is the chirping birds on the feeder in the backyard. Perfect morning for sitting and enjoying the peace and quiet... right?

But Troy is asleep. (Finally. The toddler woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and was convinced the world was out to get him all morning. I love me a good long morning nap and a re-try at the whole waking up thing.) So I really must use my time wisely (ahem) and go take my shower.

So I am.

Goodbye, bloggie peeps.

I think he's too young to be cited for indecent exposure.

The littlest person in our home has recently decided that clothes are a hindrance to his 17 month old life.

He is becoming more and more adept at ridding himself of his little shorts and shirts... which of course leaves us with several t-shirts sporting stretched out collars and pieces of outfits found in odd places.

We place the blame for this entirely on a particular cousin of mine, who, as an adult, has to keep many of her childhood pictures hidden away due to the fact that she never seems to have anything actually on in them. Being that she also taught Troy the amazing skill of being able to blow his own nose by the time he turned one--with or without a tissue--we're certain (with merciless joking) that this new trend is completely due to her influence.

But now, not only is it the clothes that are being tossed to the wind, but Troy has recently discovered that the velcro on his diaper covers is sure easy to undo.

Today at nap time, this is the sight which greeted me:

If you look closely, you will see that not only is Troy NOT wearing his diaper cover (having already discarded his overalls before going down for his nap), but his cuddly "lamb" is attempting to wear it instead.

At least he has yet to figure out how to undo the Snappi which holds the actual diaper itself on. That will be the day.

Odds and Ends

Being that it's Saturday, and the weekend seems to be when the bloggie world slows down, my bloggie brain has slowed down as well. Thus, I'm afraid all that is contained therein are several random points today.

Service announcement: Blogger, apparently, has some sort of issue with hosting a blog someplace other than on Blogger itself (as in, here at http://heart-and-home.net rather than on a -?-?-?-.blogspot.com URL), and while my dear computery husband can explain it oh-so-well and I can understand it while he's doing the explaining, I'd confuse your poor minds if I tried to re-explain this phenomenon. So all I'll venture to say is that if you are trying to access this blog using http://www.heart-and-home.net, it won't work. It has something to do with those three w's. The only way you can get here is by using plain ol' http://heart-and-home.net. You also may want to make note of this fact if you have a link to this blog on your sidebar. (And, speaking of which, you may want to take note of this new blog URL if you have a link for Heart and Home in your sidebar anyway... based on my sitemeter at the old location, there are a number of those links still pointing to the old blog. Just a head's up. :grin:)

Breaking News: A particular toddler has discovered the linen closet this morning. He is happily employed with "folding" and unfolding a purple towel at the moment.

Weekend Plans: Tomorrow after church, our little family will be heading back up to the desert to spend the rest of Labor Day weekend with my parents and brother. Monday is set to be the First Day of School for my brother, and being that we can't break from tradition, I have to be there that day. :smile: We all realize it's Labor Day and all, but being that this was the best day for all of us, why shouldn't he begin his year's labor on the day which is so named? In all honesty, our family's first day of school is anything BUT laborious. John got it right yesterday when he--who has never been around on a First Day of School--said, "So, you wake up and have donuts in the morning, then get ready for the day, then make cookies with your dad, then go to [the mountains], and eat at that Mexican food restaurant, right?" Yup. Hard day, huh?

Linkage: If you haven't already been to these places, I'd encourage you to take a clicky over there...

My mama has an encouraging and challenging post... about when we come to the end of our strength. My precious mom is about there right now... I've been asking the Lord to give her a break, allow her to rest, and though I know that He knows best and has her highest interest in mind, it is hard for me as her daughter to see one thing after another roll in. You'll be blessed by reading the devotional on her post, and we'd be blessed if you'd think to pray for the situations she mentions.

And then, if you're in the mood for some humor and if you haven't already listened to the first two installments of the Big Boo Cast, you need to hop on over there right now and do so. Two Southern ladies, who already amuse us with their writing, amusing us through audio... just trust me, they're hilarious.

Second News Flash: That same toddler has now been in his crib for a morning nap for about twenty minutes. I just went in to check on him, sure that the silence in his room meant he was sound asleep. Instead I was greeted by the sight of a happy little boy who had apparently hid two books under his blanket, sitting up, snuggling with his stuffed sting ray, "reading" softly to himself. I just don't know where he got this from. (...says the toddler's mother, who at two years old was found after bedtime, with her door closed and light on, out of bed, playing with toys...)