Lunchtime ramblings

Today's lunchtime conversation with Ben....

Ben: Ooooooh noodles (mac & cheese)! Ooooooh grapes. I like it!
Me: Me too, buddy.
Ben: I see the hummingbird.
Me: Not right now. The hummingbird went bye bye.
Ben: (Takes a bite) Ooooooh I like it! Daddy home soon?
Me: Daddy's working, but he'll be home after your nap and he will eat supper with us.
Ben: Mmmmmmm.......supper! (Eats a grape. Spits out grape skin. Throws grape skin on the floor) Oh no! Grape fell down.
Me: The grape didn't fall down. You threw the grape and that makes a mess.
Ben: Mama sad?
Me: Yes baby, mama is sad. It makes me sad when you make a mess.
Ben: Oh sorry, mama.
Me: I forgive you. No more messes please.
Ben: (charming smile) Mmmmmm....noodles. (Proceeds to drink the "juice" at the bottom of his bowl. Dumps his grapes on his tray.) Oh no! Grapes fall down.
Me: (trying not to smile) Uh oh.
Ben: Uh oh. All done. I have the cookie? (Hears ambulance in the distance). Ambulance? I touch the ambulance.
Me: No Ben Ben, it's too far away. We can't touch it.
Ben: See reach it (stretches out arm towards the window)?
Me: Nope. We can't reach it.
Ben: Mama reach the ambulance?
Me: Nope. It's too far away.
Ben: (can no longer hear the ambulance) Ambulance? Where are you, ambulance?
Me: The ambulance went bye-bye, buddy.
Ben: More cookie? (lets out big belch) Ah-choo, Ben. Ah-choo!

I could go on and on, and on and on. Never a dull moment with this little friend around :)

It's time...

I love my little baby and I am so excited to welcome him or her to our family. I'm ready to see this new little person for the first time.

And let's be real. At 40 weeks of pregnancy, I'm ready to be done.

It's D Day (baby's due date) and it seems I am constantly finding myself stuck. I'm stuck between frequent hunger pains and heartburn, laziness and nesting, excitement and worry, insomnia and exhaustion. And the other day was no exception.

Lunch. Chores. Heartburn. Chores. Exhausted. Tried napping. Heartburn. Finally fell asleep. Dog starts crying. Dog has diarrhea. Fantastic. Let dog out. Clean up dog. Try napping again. Toddler wakes up from nap. Nap fail. Chores. More heartburn. Dinner time comes. Still have heartburn. Skip dinner. Bedtime comes. Hungry but afraid to have more heartburn. Can't fall asleep. Read. Still can't sleep. Baby has a party in my belly. Can't sleep. Finally fall asleep. Dog starts crying. Dog has diarrhea. Fantastic. Huge thunderstorm. Take dog outside. Clean and dry off dog. Hungry. Snack. Heartburn. Try to sleep. Thunder. Baby kicking. Read. Finally fall asleep. Dog starts crying (seriously). Dog has diarrhea (seriously). Fantastic. Take dog outside. Try to go back to sleep. Read. Finally fall asleep. Husband's alarm goes off for work. Toddler wakes up. Two and a half hours of sleep.

It's time for a baby.

Hurdles

We have enjoyed watching the Olympics this summer...possibly a little too much as Benjamin asks, "I watch the Impics?" off and on throughout the day. His favorite event  is "splash" (also known as diving), but he also enjoys "running" and "jumping" (gymnastics). While watching the Olympics I am baffled by the sprinters and hurdle sprinters. How is it even possible to be that fast, especially while jumping over stuff? Amazing.

On to the real story. Every time I see people jumping hurdles I'm reminded of my own experience in this event. Here's how it went down.

When I was but a wee middle school student, my older and cooler high school sister and her friend let me tag along with them to a movie. Nice, right? Of course before the movie we had to make a stop at the grocery store to pick up candy and soda for so that we could smuggle them into the theater. Don't judge me. It was cheaper and I was simply being thrifty. Well at some point during our grocery stop we were near the checkout lanes. The closed lanes were blocked off with a chain that hung about 3 feet above the ground, possibly less. My sister's friend ran and jumped over the chain. Hurdle cleared. My sister was then inspired to do the same. Again, hurdle cleared. Well I wasn't about to be the lame little tag-along sister. I had to prove to these girls that I was just as cool and fun as they were even though they were 3 years my senior. I ran. I jumped. I tripped and fell flat on my face. You can imagine the embarrassment that immediately followed. Truthfully, I'm not so sure that they even paid attention to what I was doing at all while we were together that night so they may not have seen me and my epic fail as a grocery store hurdle jumper. I'll have to ask. But that's how I knew my career as an Olympic hurdle jumper had ended before it began.

"I touch the moon."

Benjamin is a little talker. Wonder where he gets that from? Everyday we have a million conversations, most of which consist of the following exchanges...


Ben sees a flag.
Ben: I wanna touch the flag
Me: No baby, we aren't going to touch the flag. It's too far away.
Ben: I can't reach it.
Me: Nope, you can't reach it. Just look with your eyes.
Ben: Oh hi flag, hi! Bye bye flag. (Slight pause) I see more flags?
Me: I don't know Ben Ben. Let's keep our eyes open.

Ben sees a dog.
Ben: I wanna touch the puppy.
Me: No baby, we aren't going to touch the puppy. It's too far away.
Ben: I can't reach it.
Me: Nope, you can't reach it. Just look with your eyes.
Ben: Oh hi puppy, hi! Bye bye puppy. (Slight pause) I see more puppies?
Me: I don't know Ben Ben. Let's keep our eyes open.

Ben sees a pretty flower.

Ben sees plane.

Ben sees anything of interest....same conversation...every time.

Well today on our morning walk with Osa, Ben saw the moon hanging in the morning sky. And can you guess what happened? Yep. Same dialogue. Then we turned the corner and saw the moon again. Repeat conversation. We arrived at home and I took Benjamin out of his stroller. He wanted to check the sky to see if the moon was still there. We checked and then we talked about it, just like we had two other times on our walk. About an hour later we went to the park to play and Ben spotted the moon again, and then again, and then again. And each time he saw the moon he wanted to touch it, but it was too far away.

Even if we have the same conversation a million times a day, I love talking with my boy and soaking up his enthusiasm for the simple pleasures in life...a flag, a puppy, a plane, the moon.

Carseat cover...check.

I resisted the Pinterest craze for a long time, but alas I was sucked into the black whole that is crafts and recipes and decorating and such. You know what I'm talking about because you've probably been sucked in too.

Approximately 30 weeks ago (according to Pinterest), when I was 9 weeks pregnant, I found this little gem of a tutorial for a home made car seat cover for summer.

http://cally-cruze.blogspot.com/2009/10/infant-carseat-blanket.html

Benjamin was born in Minnesota so obviously we already have a winter cover, but I knew that this little Missouri baby was going to need some protection from the sun during those early months so I added it to my collection of "repins".

Last night Jeff was on call so I decided to spend my evening working on the cover for the baby and since I have a hard time sleeping these days (a problem which is magnified when Jeff's not home) I worked on it from start to finish. Needless to say it was a long, late night and my feet swelled up to the size of watermelons by the time I was done, but I finished.

The only difficulty I ran into was that the cover was a little to big on the larger end, so I just attached some ribbon and gathered up the extra material with it. I tried flipping the cover around but had the same issue no matter which direction it faced. I'm not sure why this happened. Perhaps our car seat is smaller than the once used in the tutorial, but it's a Chicco and I always think they look so much larger than every other brand of car seat. I don't mind the extra length though because when the babies feet start to hang over the edge they will still be covered.

Now it's just too bad that I can't find the inserts for the car seat ANYWHERE. I tore apart every box of Ben's old baby clothes looking for it and after 2 hours of looking I decided to call the customer service department at Chicco to order new inserts. When I found out the replacements would only cost $12 I wished I would have called before opening up all of that cardboard.

The tipping point

There comes a time during pregnancy when the expectant mother is "ready" to have her baby. In this case "ready" means that enduring labor and delivery sounds like a more pleasant, comfortable option than pregnancy which, until today, has seemed like an unimaginable preference. I refer to this as the tipping point....and I think I may be reaching it. One more 100+ degree day and I'm pretty sure I'll be there. Recently I commented to my husband, "I don't remember feeling this uncomfortable when we were expecting Benjamin" to which he lovingly responded, "You were miserable." Hmm. Do not recall that. At any rate, I think I'm just about "ready" to have this baby which means I should probably get off of the computer and go pack my hospital bag.

A boy and his dog

Anybody who has known me since we got our puppy knows that she was my first baby. I feel like I waited all of my life to get her. Jeff and I moved into our first house and not 3 days later we brought Osa home. She was a great companion for me during that first year of Jeff's residency. Walks, visits to the dog park, rides in the car, naps on the couch when I was pregnant with Benjamin....and yes, I even dressed her in little doggy clothes occasionally.

To say that it was a shock to Osa's little puppy system when we brought Benjamin home from the hospital would be an understatement. Jeff did a good job of training her how to behave around the new baby and she has always been very gentle with Ben, but of course my attention was focused on my new baby and not my Osa girl. Walks and playtime and the special attention she had been given prior to the baby diminished quite a bit and she was sad. I don't think she was jealous so much as she was a little depressed. She moped, a lot. But after I recovered and got the hang of being a new mom, she started to come around a little.

Then there was a period of time where she wanted Ben to play with her, but he didn't know how. That was followed by a stint where Benjamin wanted to play with Osa, but she found him to be a little unpredictable as he learned to toddle around and hadn't quite gained control of his gross motor skills.

But now there is love between them. Osa loves to lick his sticky little fingers. She follows him as he runs about the house and is always interested in what he is up to. She happily wags her tail and greets Ben when we get home from running errands. Benjamin likes to give Osa treats (including food from the dinner table). He has to give her pats and kisses and tell her "night, night" before bedtime. In the morning he likes to release her from her crate first thing. And when we watch a little Sesame Street he wants Osa to be sitting with him right there on the chair or the couch.

A lesson in pride and humility

Proud mama
About a month ago Benjamin learned the numbers 1-10. We weren't even actively working on numbers....just reading books and he picked up on it. He started by pointing to random numbers in his books or at the store and saying them aloud. Next he began counting from 1-10. He has recently graduated to saying, "One...hahaha, two...hahaha, three...hahaha" (as in the Count from Sesame street which is ironic because he is scared of the Count).

Not so proud mama
Around the same time he started demonstrating his knowledge of numbers Benjamin also became proficient at jamming his finger up his nose. He realized that this was a possibility when he had a touch of a cold during that time and found boogers to be bothersome. I guess you could say he was problem solving in a way. Thankfully the nose picking has subsided and we are able to carry on counting with better manners.

Lesson learned
Proud moments may be accompanied by not so proud moments in cases where enthusiastic mothers need a dose of humility.

Here is a fun video of Benjamin counting and picking to show off for his auntie who came to visit a few weeks ago.

Labors of Love.

This is the sewing machine my mother passed down to me. She purchased it with her very first paycheck from her very first job out in the "real" world and it is now over 50 years old. I'm not sure how many items she crafted on this machine, but I'd guess hundreds. The list includes dress shirts for dad, outfits for us kids, Barbie clothes, Cabbage Patch kids (yes, actual dolls) and even her wedding dress. My mom didn't just know how to sew...I'd call her a seamstress. She could make everything out of anything, and she did. I, on the other hand, can hardly sew a straight line, but I like to make things so I guess she thought I might get some use out of it.  Admittedly I haven't used the sewing machine all that much, but I was recently inspired to make a strip quilt for Benjamin.

A few days ago I went to the fabric store and carefully selected my fabric especially for my son. Then I painstakingly cut and arranged the strips of cloth until they were in just the right order. After all of my planning was done, I began the process of pinning, ironing, sewing, pinning, ironing, sewing, pinning, ironing, sewing, and so on. As I pressed the peddle with my foot and carefully pushed the fabric through the machine, I smiled to myself thinking of all of the love my mom poured out to her family on this old Singer and how special it is that now I am using that same machine to lovingly make a quilt for her grandson.

When I was a child I was thrilled when mom made me that Cabbage Patch doll, but I never really understood why she worked so hard to make things for all of us on this old machine. Now that I am a wife and a mother I get it. I know why my mom sewed. I know why she cooked and cleaned and did endless amounts of laundry. I know why she prayed for us every day and took the time to teach us about Jesus. Love. It was all a labor of love. The tasks she enjoyed and the ones she didn't she did out of love for us. Thank you, Mom, for everything you tenderly sewed into our family and for showing me how to do the same for mine.

This is a good sign...

Sold! This is a good sign. A very good sign. This whole process has been overwhelming, as least for me. Jeff, on the other hand, has been as cool as a cucumber the entire time. He says things to me like, "You know God's going to take care of us, don't you?" or "You know everything is going to be okay, right?". Yes, yes, I know, but I've be worried since we found out that we were moving last September about everything....Who will be our realtor? What should our asking price be? What improvements should we make to the house? How much will improvements cost? When should we put the house on the market? How long will it be on the market? How on earth will I keep the house tidy with a dog and a 1-year-old? Where will we go when there are showings at random times throughout the day? How should we negotiate? Where will we stay between closing day and Jeff's last day of residency? And so on and so on. And never mind all of the concerns I had about moving to St. Louis. There's a whole other set of questions that ran through my mind with that prospect. Will we find a safe place to live? Can we find a place to rent in our budget that is decent and will take a dog? Will Jeff be stuck in traffic for hours each day?  Will I love our new home as much as I have loved this one? Am I even going to like the city? And what about friends? Blah, blah, blah. The questions and worry plagued my mind (and if I'm being totally honest, they still do if I don't keep them at bay). Every time something gets settled I seem to move on to another concern, big or small. I've had to continually remind myself that worrying will do no good and that in fact my worry is evidence that I am not trusting God. And why shouldn't I trust Him??? If He takes care of the birds of the air and the flowers in the field, will he not also provide for us? Of course He will. I've known that in my head through this entire process. But I've had such a hard time letting go and just trusting that God has a plan for us and will make a way for us.

Looking back on everything that has happened in the last year, from Jeff's interviews for fellowship to seeing that red sign in our front yard today, it is so easy for me to see how God has laid out a path for us and has provided for us. And all the while I was so wrapped up in my self-reliance that I was unaware of how He was orchestrating everything. Our house is no longer for sale (and I don't have to hide Benjamin's toys every time we leave the house!). My parents are going to let me stay with them after the house closes until we officially move to St. Louis. Jeff is going to a great job. We're moving to a city that I've discovered is actually quite family friendly and not so scary as I thought. Our new landlord seems like a nice, reasonable guy. I already have a dear friend who recently moved to St. Louis. She just happened to find out that her husband was being stationed there right after we heard that was where we were headed. The house we found is in a beautiful, quiet, safe neighborhood and will have plenty of room for our growing family.

I love our home and our neighborhood. I love this city. And I love the friends that we have made here. I'll be sad to say goodbye to the last 3 years of our lives here in this place, but God's faithfulness through this whole process gives me confidence to know that He has a plan for us in this next chapter of our lives.

Thank you, Lord, for showing your faithfulness to me even when my faith was wavering. You are so good.

All to Him I owe...

Today as Benjamin and I were driving in the car this track popped up on the cd we were listening to and I couldn't keep myself from hitting the repeat button as I sang along and felt the tears fall on my cheeks. What a gift we have been given...in spite of ourselves.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7QQGPv1Ikc

The secret to having a good day: Do a lot, but don't do anything.

Benjamin and I had the most wonderfully unproductive yet eventful day together. I love those days. The morning started out by starting late. Sleeping in until 7:30am is a glorious feeling. We enjoyed a relaxing morning eating breakfast, reading books, and wrestling. Benjamin and I were having such a good time entertaining each other that I lost track of time and we were late for a morning play date with our friends.

We headed over to see our lovely friends and their sweet babies. There we found donuts, toys, good conversation, lunch and plenty of teachable moments (you know...those moments when your kid gets together with other kids and then sometimes demonstrates a little bit of ugly). Benjamin had such a good time running around with his pals that he fell asleep during the short car ride home.

Benjamin went down for his nap and I knit on the couch while catching up on The Voice. I probably should have spent his nap cleaning the house, but truth be told I'm sick of cleaning (1 month of having a house up for sale will do that to you) and sometimes a girl has just got to put her feet up and relax. To my credit I was knitting a gift for somebody which will save us money which is sort of the same as making money which is like working which is productive. Oh yes, and did I mention that I'm busy growing a baby here. I'd say that's cause for a rest during the day. (I feel the need to justify my laziness...must be feeling a tad guilty...but not so guilty that I can't sit down to blog about my lazy day)

By the end of Ben's nap we had company in the form of another fun play date filled with more good conversation, toys and teachable moments, of course.

Benjamin smothering his friend with affection.

Watching for puppies outside.

Running laps.

Tag, you're it!

My little pal and I wrapped up the evening with a frozen dinner, playing cars, and bath time. The only way this day could have been better is if we had gotten to spend some time with Jeff. We really miss him when he's working these long crazy hours, but it sure is nice to have a precious little boy to love on and great friends to fill in the gap.

Meet Me in St. Louis (part 2)

Things I learned on our trip to St. Louis...

*There is no shortage of fireworks stores or gun shops once you cross the border into Missouri. We were in the state all of one minute before we passed 5 places that sold fireworks and a few gun establishments....oh, and a trailer park or two.

*I need to teach Benjamin that leopards, lions and tigers are not "kitties". Pretty sure he would have tried to hug this cat if he could have gotten out of his stroller.

Benjamin calling out to the "kitties".

Here, kitty, kitty.

*I have a "cute" accent (according to a waitress). I don't know what she was talking about. I sound just like the people on TV.


*You can't drive across town in 10 minutes, but 30 minutes isn't too bad.

*There is an abundance of family activities in St. Louis. We went to 4 parks, all lovely, the children's museum and the zoo while we were there. We didn't even have a chance to hit the art and science museums let alone the various "farms"...we were house-hunting after all.

*North Dakota and Minnesota are not the only states that have nice people. I randomly met the cousin of one of the doctors that Jeff is going to be working with at his new job while we were at a playground. Benjamin just had to say hi to her dogs and while we were casually visiting we discovered the connection. She gave me her business card and encouraged me to call or email if I needed anything.

*I love QuikTrip....I may be picking up a blended coffee drink every time I get gas in MO.

*Living in a big city won't be as scary as I thought it was going to be.

*I am getting really excited for this next chapter in our lives.

Meet Me in St. Louis (must own this movie!)

No place like home.

People say home is where the heart is. If that's the case, then I have two homes. Of course, my home is wherever Jeff and our sweet boy are. But I suppose my second home is at mom and dad's. I seriously love my folks and always have the best time visiting them. They are so good to let me, Benjamin and Osa take over their house when Jeff has terrible hours or is out of town and we're looking for some company. Last week Jeff had to take a trip to New Orleans and I didn't have the courage to go there with a very active 19 month old, so I loaded Ben and the dog in the car and made the 400 mile trip back home to see mom and dad. Our visit consisted of hugs, chats, eating out, walks, parks, ice cream, church, puppies, relaxation and lots of laughs. We'll be taking advantage of the shorter drive back home as much as we can before our big move to Missouri. We are sure going to miss our frequent visits to grandma and grandpa's house. You can see why.

I love you, Stinky Feet.

Quite some time ago, Jeff started playing a little game with Benjamin just before bedtime. It goes like this. Sniff Ben's feet. Shake head in disgust. Make some kind of exclamation about how stinky his feet are. Giggles ensue. We played the game tonight and I happened to have my phone handy, so here's my sweet silly boy and the goofy game daddy made for him. We'll all have to enjoy the fun before Benjamin actually gets big boy stinky feet because when that happens, GAME OVER.

That's a kidney? I had no idea.

Our baby :)

This morning we had our anatomy ultrasound for the baby. Jeff is working nights, but was a trooper and came to the appointment after a busy shift at work. The ultrasound technician easily navigated his way around the baby to get all of the pictures he needed. We saw the four chambers of the baby's heart, the brain, spine, fingers, nose, lips, arms, legs, stomach....we even saw the lens of one of the eyes. It always amazes me how the ultrasound techs are able to look at the blur of white and black on the screen and quickly point out the baby's kidneys. But what really amazes me is watching our baby being knit together. At my first ultrasound I was about 8 weeks pregnant and the baby looked like a little peanut with a heartbeat. Now today we saw our baby and all of the little details that God takes care to develop and grow during those precious first months of life. This little baby, who I didn't even know existed 19 weeks ago, has fingernails and hair and already knows how to swallow. It's not every day that we get witness a miracle, but today I was blessed to see one in the making.

Simple pleasures

It was such a blessing to be able to spend the afternoon together as a family today. Jeff has been working nights and as a result we haven't been able to see each other a whole lot. Fortunately he was able to get enough sleep so that we could have an outing to a great local park.

Benjamin exploring

Looking mischievous (he gets that from the man in the black t-shirt)

 Learning the fine art of climbing from daddy

I own this park

Sliding!

I am so thankful for my little family and for the simple pleasure of a beautiful afternoon spent playing together.

Enough?

Something I shared with an amazing group of gals a few weeks ago...

Good morning ladies. My name is Sarah. I grew up in Grand Forks, ND which is just on the other side of the border. I lived there my entire life until I moved here with my husband for his pediatric residency in the summer of 2009.  I am  possibly the only woman in this room who was ecstatic to find out I was moving to Rochester, MN. It’s bigger, hillier, and warmer than my home town. I know some of y’all are from the south and may have found your first winter here to be a bit on the chilly side, perhaps even unbearable, but the winters I’ve experienced here have been the warmest winters I have ever known. You first year gals don’t know what I’m referring to when I say people think the winters here are chilly because this winter has been tropical in my opinion, but if you stay here for any length of time you will have a better understanding of what the word cold means. I’d also like to add that when we moved here I was pleasantly surprised to see how hilly it is. I know some of you think it’s flat, but it’s not. You haven’t seen flat until you’ve been to the Red River Valley. The only hills in my hometown are 2 man-made overpasses.  I know I’m nearly back home when can see the sign at the local truck stop from 5 miles away.

My husband Jeff and I were set up during his 2nd year of medical school through mutual friends. They thought we would hit it off. When we first met I told my mom that Jeff was really nice and funny but that he was a little bit of a nerd to which she replied “Well you’re a nerd too, Sarah.” I guess that made us a  match because we got engaged 6 months later. Now we have been married for nearly 4 years and we have a fun-loving 18 month old named Benjamin and a little brother or sister in the making.

I grew up in a Christian home. My folks became believers a few years after they got married and taught all 4 kids in my family about God and His Love for us. I asked Jesus into my heart when I was 7 years old.  I grew up going to church, Sunday school, AWANA, Bible Camp, participating in worship team and so on.  I was a good girl and I didn’t give my parents much grief. My single act of rebellion was getting a third piercing in my left ear when I was 18 years old. I’m not sure if my “good girl” lifestyle is a result of learning from others’ mistakes or the Holy Spirit keeping me under His wing. Probably a combination of both. That’s not to say I haven’t struggled through life here and there….it’s just that I haven’t landed myself in jail, at least not yet. I used to think that my testimony wasn’t dramatic enough to be powerful until my old pastor helped me understand the power of my testimony  is in that the Lord has been protecting me from a life of darkness from that tender, little age when I first decided to follow Him. I like that.

My parents did a really good job of teaching me where my worth comes from….it comes from the Lord. I know that. But there is a vast difference between knowing something and believing something. And there have been many times in my life when I’ve questioned my worth, wondering whether or not I was enough. I think it’s human nature to be concerned with how we measure up against the world. When I was young I remember constantly comparing myself to my big sisters. They were pretty and talented and everybody told me so. As I got older I learned to compare myself to my friends. Some were more popular (well really most of them were), some were more intelligent, some were funnier (I know, hard to imagine, right?). Then I became a grown-up and got out in to the real world where I measured my success in my career against that of my colleagues. They worked longer hours. They were more respected and if you know me at all you won‘t be surprised when I tell you they were most definitely more mature. Then, at one time, I was an extremely overweight woman who had no trouble finding my external flaws every time I looked in the mirror or turned the corner and saw another skinny girl. I was the girl who walked into a room and immediately knew she was the biggest person there. The girl who hid behind humor. The girl who was certain that nobody could ever fall in love with her. Then I became a skinny girl….a really skinny, athletic girl and I still wondered if I was enough. Skinny enough. Fast enough. Fit enough. And now I’m a stay-at-home wife and mom and even though my life is full, I still find myself measuring my value against the world around me. There are stories of babies sleeping through the night at 6 weeks old and moms who wore their pre-pregnancy clothing out of the hospital. Well Benjamin didn’t sleep through the night until he was 5 months old and I still can’t wear my clothes from before I was pregnant (never mind I‘m back in maternity pants now). And then there are the doubts that I’m not nurturing my family as well as other women are. This one’s kid doesn‘t pee down the air vents (yes, that really happened), and that one’s kid doesn’t throw tantrums.  Or there are thoughts that I’m some kind of homemaker when there are 7 pairs of shoes sitting in the entry way and I only cooked dinner for my husband 2 times last week and that it is not rare for my child to hand me dust bunnies that he finds about the house. I guess I should be thankful he’s not eating them, but you know what I’m getting at. There are the feelings of inadequacy when I realize that I’m supposed to be a grown woman, the wife of a professional, and I show up to gatherings wearing a hoodie, no make-up and no product in my hair while all of the other girls seem to be all done up and they look amazing in their cute clothes. So am I pretty enough? Smart enough? Funny enough? Successful, thin, nurturing, girly, yada, yada, yada enough? And here’s my conclusion. No. I am not. I am not enough. And yes, yes I am. I am enough. You see, according to the world’s standards I will never be enough. There will always be somebody who is more talented than I am. More successful, a more nurturing mother, a more attentive wife, and better at keeping their floors clean. But, thankfully, from the Lord’s perspective, I am enough….not because of who I am or anything I’ve done, but because He has made me “enough”.

2 Corinthians 5 says…“Not that we are adequate in ourselves to consider anything as coming from ourselves, but our adequacy is from God.”

God has made me in His image. He has rescued me from the miry clay. He has redeemed me. He knit me together. He sent His Son to die for me and then He drew me to Himself. He has a plan for me. If the Lord God Almighty has done all of this for me, then surely I must be enough. And this is why the Lord is reminding me to stop basing my worth, my substance, my very being on what I see in the mirror or in my laundry room. Because in His grace and mercy He has deemed me worthy of His love. Now this is not an excuse to ignore the dust bunnies or my family’s needs. I cannot simply say, “Hey, this is who I am and God loves me so deal with it.”

Colossians 3:23-24 says…“Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.”

I should do my best, be my best, as a gift to the Lord. But it is a relief to know that when I fall short of my expectations of myself or the standards I think the world has set for me I can take comfort in knowing that I am enough for the Creator of the universe, and that’s good enough for me.

There are so many passage in the Bible which illustrate that none of us are enough on our own, but through Christ’s redemptive power we are enough. Here’s on that spoke to me.

Ephesians 2:1-10
“And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience. Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest. But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been save), and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift if God, not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.”

Now I am reminding myself that God is enough as we prepare to head to Missouri this summer where Jeff will be completing a 3-year fellowship in neonatology. It will break my heart to leave my sweet friends and to be so far away from family, but I know that God has chosen this place for us for this time. Please pray that we will find a church and good Christian fellowship quickly, that I will be able to adjust to life in the big city, and for our growing family.

A lot can happen in 30 minutes.

Hug your daycare provider today. Seriously. You may not always be happy with every little detail of your child's day while he or she is being cared for by somebody other than you, but I can promise your childcare provider isn't happy with every little detail either.

I have been spending quite a bit of time working in the staff daycare at my church. It's an ideal situation really. I get to spend the entire day with Benjamin, I get out of the house and I make a little extra cashola for the family to boot. Generally I enjoy my time working childcare, but I will be the first to admit that almost everyday I am there provides a period of time, as brief as it may be, in which I find myself praying for strength or patience or to be teleported to another place entirely. Today was no exception.

The day was pretty busy off and on, but I was having a good time working with the kids. We read lots of stories, played kitchen, had snack, played in the gym, sang songs, read more stories, built towers, and the kids ate lunch. I sat down to start my lunch and made it about halfway through my Jimmy Johns sandwich when I realized it was just about nap time so I had better take a break from eating and get the kids ready. I was in the middle of changing diapers for naps when the sweet little baby I was caring for decided he was starting to get hungry. No problem, I thought. I'll just finish up this diaper change and start warming up his bottle. Then things got hairy. One of the older kids came up to me to say that one of the toddlers had wet through her clothes and it had gotten on his shirt. I quickly checked out the situation and determined that the toddler did not in fact wet through her clothes so much as she had another type of situation going on (you know what I mean). I called the office to get a new shirt for the older boy and decided that I had to take care of the blow-out situation right away before the mess got on anything else in the room. I could move on to getting the bottle ready for baby once I had cleaned everybody up. I won't describe the diaper situation any further except to simply say that while I was cleaning up the toddler the word "epic" came to mind. As I was trying to manage all of the mess and rock the hungry baby with my foot another toddler found my partially eaten Jimmy Johns sandwich on the table. Her interest overcame her and she climbed up onto the chair where I had been sitting and reached for it. Just as I was telling her "No, no," the sandwich slid out of her hands and onto the floor. There was shredded lettuce and tuna everywhere. I managed to help her off of the chair with one hand as I secured the child I was changing with the other hand. I moved as quickly as I could to get dirty clothes bagged, children cleaned and everybody dressed that needed to be dressed. Whew. Onto preparing baby's bottle. While warming the bottle I realized that we were 15 minutes past nap time and nobody was napping. I stopped rocking the baby for a few minutes as I got the little kids ready for nap. After rushing back to feed the baby I was somehow able to get the big kids situated for rest time. And then the chaos turned to calm while everybody happily rested and the baby ate.

This 30 minute window of time was just a small part of my day and the rest of the day went rather beautifully, but those 30 minutes were long and tiring and stressful and were a good reminder of why I'm glad I don't do daycare full-time. I worked hard for my money today, and I'd be willing to bet that your childcare provider did too, so give her a hug the next time you see her :)

Painted Love

Oh oh oh oh....
Painted Love
Oh oh oh oh....
Painted Love

Jeff and I have been painting lately....a lot. Getting the house ready for sale has been a big undertaking and has brought some stress and quite a few laughs. One of our biggest laughs came when my parents were visiting. Jeff and dad painted most of the weekend and were able to get the basement, bathroom and spare room done. My loving husband painted a little something extra. I bopped in the room where Jeff was painting to talk to him quickly about something. As I was leaving the room he leaned over to give me a quick kiss. Sweet, right? Yes. But also messy as it turns out. Unfortunately Jeff's paint tray was in the way and just before he was able to give me a peck he accidentally bumped into it. I saw it slowly fall from it's perch on the dresser. The paint-filled tray then hit the floor and it's contents were promptly thrown up into the air and onto the walls, the floor, the dresser....and me. We spent a bit of time cleaning up the room and my clothes all while having a good laugh. Once the clean up was done I went back for my kiss :)