I've been busy!!!

Well, I was suppose to have Blue on November 29, but on the 28th, he decided to make his arrival.
You wouldn't think a difference in arrival of about 18 hours is a big difference, but I assure you it is. We were completely caught off gaurd by the beginning stages of labor and the pressure from the hospital staff for Husband to hurry his arrival.
Blue weighed 8 pounds 7 ounces and was 19 inches long.
He's already a Mommy's boy, but he definately keeps Daddy convinced they are on the same team. And Little is a great big sister that loves to help and love on Blue.

I'm MIA

I have no idea where I have been.

I've been taking pictures. I've been nesting. However, I have not been on the blog.

I'm entirely too pregnant to do anything but breathe, and these days, even that may be too much.

We are anxiously awaiting Blue's arrival, which will not be long now. I still can't say that I am ready, but I know I really am.

Blog posts will probably slow. And I will update as often as I can.

Stay tuned. I'm sure to have some Little tales for you.

Growth

My pastor was out of town this past Sunday and asked me to provide the message.

Do what?

You have got to be kidding me.

In actuality, God has been preparing me for the last few weeks to talk about an extremely trying time in our lives. I knew when it happened that it would be something that could be a used for God's glory. To turn darkness into light. To be a message to others.

So, I did something completely not of me. I did not prepare.

No notes.

No practice attempts.

No other preparation than prayer and Bible study.

I told the congregation that I wanted the message to be about Him, not me. I knew that if I prepared, if I made notes, if I practiced what I would say, it would be more of me and less of Him.

That wasn't what I was going for.

To be honest, I did not even really know the extent of the content that I would cover.

Would I talk about my mother-in-law? Would I talk about angel babies? Would I talk about the night that turned our world upside down? I didn't know.

But He gave me the words. He gave me the message. He gave me the ability to allow others to see what they needed to see.

I didn't choose my life. I would not have chosen some things for me. But I'm exactly where God wants me to be.

It's those times when we cling to Him the hardest, and more than likely those are the times we would choose to be elsewhere, that we grow the most spiritually. Those times are good for us.

Halloween

It's only November 7th, and I'm posting Halloween pictures.

I'm pregnant, and it's all I can do to stay awake and breathe. Give me a break.

We went to the church and decorated pumpkins.



Little wanted a purple pumpkin.




This is the finished product. Needless to say, we didn't win an award, but Little was so excited for what she helped create.

By the way, does anyone know how long pumpkins are good for? As of right now, we still can not throw away her pumpkin. Maybe Santa can take it to the North Pole.



She also got her face painted. Amazing how still she can sit when someone is holding her head and painting her face. Let somebody in a uniform try that. Not happening. Ever.

We dressed up as Tinkerbell.



Thank goodness it was cold, because Tinkerbell's costume was skimpy.


This weekend, we hung out with some of our favorite people. Here's the pics from the night.







Good times.

Name change

Fairly soon, the blog will be undergoing a name change. I find it unimaginable that Blue will enjoy painted toes and frilly bows. The web address will stay the same, but the name will be different.

Are you talking to me?

While it was here, we went to the state fair. I must admit this was my very first time ever. I'm just not a ride-the-rides kind of person, but Little sure is.



Little had a great time with her friend.



Little did not like the big slide. She may be terrified of heights, like her Mommy.


Little has been taking ballet for a few weeks now. There are only certain days that parents can observe their children, and yesterday happened to be one of them.



I discovered that not only does my child not listen to me or her Daddy, she doesn't listen to her ballet instructor either. Isn't it precious how all the other kids are looking at and paying close attention to the instructor? And then, there's Little.



But when it's time to run and play, we begin to listen.



Above all, she has fun.

Hopefully, the structure of ballet will help her with focusing and attention span. If not, we are in trouble.

Wow! How time flies....

I have not been a very good blogger here recently.

To be honest, I haven't been very good at much here lately.

I got two nearly dead plants living in my laundry room. Either my over-watering or Husband's insistence that indoor plants like being outside for longer than 48 hours in 90 degree daytime temps and 40 degree nighttime temps has done them in. However, until there is no more green on them, which isn't long, they will live in the greenhouse of a laundry room.

For the rest of the plants, they are managing well. Especially the fake one.

In addition to killing plants, I've been up to burning hamburger meat, wrapping Christmas presents with tape that refuses to stick, failing to get the nursery in order, and just generally being a bad person.

In spite of all my flaws, I am determined to have some pictures of our life lately posted tomorrow. At least I have good intentions.

What is wrong with me?

So, I tried to change up that distracting, hideous background,and this is what I got. It's not exactly like I intended. And I'm too pregnant to change it.

Apparently, I am too pregnant to take pictures either. I don't think my camera has been out of the case in at least 30 days. I'm a terrible mother.

I am sure for most of you, Christmas seems months away and not of your current concern. Well, for me, since this baby will be coming pre-Christmas, I have been trying to finish Christmas shopping.

Ya'll, it's hard to Christmas shop with Halloween candy and decor on every aisle.

But, I am determined to be done by Thanksgiving. That's right. Done. By. Thanksgiving.

The great thing is I am nearly done with the kids. (Melts my heart to say "kids," like, with a "s" on the end.) And nearly half of the adults and all the other kids (you know, that aren't mine) are taken care of, as well. So, I am making progress. I will complete this mission.

Speaking of missions......

I debated about telling you about our most recent fiasco, but I may as well.

Little and I attended a beautiful outdoor wedding this past weekend. It is to be envied by every other outdoor wedding. The weather alone was absolutely perfect.

The wedding took place on the pier of a pond, with the reception surrounding a lovely pool.

Had I known how the night would end, we would have skipped the wedding and sent our condolences later. However, with the series of events that have occurred over the past few months, I should have known.

Little and Sweetmama (my grandmother, Little's great-grandmother) were busy traveling back and forth to various reception tables, in particular, the candy table. They had made several trips with great success. Then......

It happened. I had just turned to look at Little and Sweetmama traveling around the pool. And as I am sitting with my back to the pool, I hear a splash. I jump up, run to the side of the pool, and see my grandmother and daughter in the swimming pool.

Mother's instinct is get the child (who cannot swim) out of the pool. And so, I jump in and realize we are in the deep end. I grab Little from my grandmother and hand her to someone standing at the edge of the pool. I have no idea who. It could have been anyone. Mission I is to get the baby out of the pool.

Mission II get my grandmother out of the pool. I grab her hand and pull her to the side. A few men come to assist her out. And now I'm the only one in the pool, so my pastor encouraged me to swim to the shallow end to exit the pool.

Everyone was okay. The water was cold. The night was cool. We all realize the blessings because of what could have been. (Especially considering that my grandmother later informs me that she cannot swim.)

Now, let me back up and tell you, I had on a dress. In case you are unaware, when you jump in water in a dress, the first thing your dress does is float to the surface. I think my dress ended up around my neck. And there was plenty of pregnant meat to be shown.

Apparently your dress will have no concern as to how many people are witnessing your dress around your neck. Your dress laughs at the fact that your pastor is standing there. Your dress could care less if you are 32 weeks pregnant.

Your dress (probably sensing that you are furious with it), in a last ditch effort to reconcile, snuggles with you relentlessly when you exit the pool, therefore, clinging to every bump and bulge. Your dress was a very bad dress.

I just cannot look anyone in the eye anymore.

And that dress is in dire need of some punishment for what it did to me and all those innocent bystanders.

Do we stay or do we go?

I would say that 2011 has not been so kind to us, but as much as that is true, we have still been blessed through out. We've just had a rough couple of months.

I have finally started sleeping again. In all seriousness, please give thanks for this. I am thinking that the insomnia started around April. I thought I had it all together. I thought I had people fooled. Wednesday night at church, a dear friend of the family asked how I was doing. Being someone I can be completely and totally honest with, I said that I was doing much better since I had been able to sleep every night for the past several nights. Her reply really surprised me...."I can tell. You look so much better. I have been so worried about you, because you have been looking so bad."

Did it hurt my feelings? Not one bit. I knew I was feeling bad from being so exhausted, but I had no idea that I was looking bad. It's been one of those times in my life that when people asked me how I was doing I simply replied that I was fine, just because I really didn't want to discuss everything with everyone. I thought by saying "I'm fine," it was believable since I looked fine. Apparently, this was not the case.

So maybe when you see me next, you will see someone who looks better than the last time you saw me, and hopefully, I will continue to look well rested.

With our ever expanding family, we have been tossing around the idea of selling our house. We have a home we are interested in, and we have already shown our house to three families already. Of those three, one family has been shown the house twice. It is a big decision for everyone involved. Truthfully, I just don't feel at peace about anything involving the house. No peace with staying. No peace with moving.

The crazy thing is we don't even have a "For Sale" sign in the yard. Several neighbors heard we were getting ready to sell, and they have done all the work. We thought that we might go ahead and put the house on the market, because with the economy, it may take a while to sell. But it may not.

Sleep

One the side effects of this pregnancy has been insomnia.

I know that it becomes a symptom of every pregnancy towards the end. However, this has been throughout the entire pregnancy.

When I was pregnant with Little, I "napped" all the time. I'd come home from work and sit down on the couch. The next thing I would know, it would be the next morning. I'd still have on my scrubs from the day before with yesterday's make-up on. It was disgusting, but I was resting.

This time, I'm up doing laundry at 2 AM. Playing Words with Friends with night shift people. Watching infomercials.

On average, I get around three hours sleep a night, and that's if I take Benadryl. It's ridiculous.

However, last night, we ALL slept really well. Like so well that none of us got up when the alarm went off.

Humbled

My mother-in-law's disease was debilitating and overwhelming for most of us.

It rattled our core. It challenged us to cling to the One that is in control. It made us walk by faith. It encouraged trust, patience, and long-suffering.

I am confident in saying this will be a defining moment in my Christian walk. In my spiritual growth. In my faith.

Since her death, there has hardly been a day that we have not received some encouragement in the mail. Nearly every day, we have received cards. Reminders of love and togetherness. Reminders of concern and prayers. Reminders that she is healed.

And we are humbled. We are humbled by how many people care. How blessed we truly are. How His grace is sufficient. How important she was to others, not just us.

Our church organized a benefit to aid with her medical expenses. It was held 8 days before her passing. It was amazing.

So many local businesses and people gave their time, money, and resources. A large sum of money was donated, but the outcome was so much more than that.

She was able to be there. She was able to stay the entire time. She was able to visit with family and friends. She was able to see how giving our community is. She was able to see how much she was loved, how she mattered to people, and how everyone has a purpose.

Working at Wal-Mart allowed her to meet many people. She was never really confident in her actions making a tremendous impact on people. But in her last months, she came to realize how much she positively affected others.

Humbling.

I'm on my soapbox

First of all, I've been waiting on someone to comment on my incredibly busy and distracting blog background.

Readers, all two of you, have failed me.

I cannot stand this background, but I am entirely too pregnant and lazy to change it. That will be my excuse from now until December.

Since I only have ten weeks left, which is now nine weeks if the c-section gets scheduled when the doctor wants it, I am trying to tidy up on important things like pre-admission paperwork for the delivery.

In addition to wanting to know every intricate detail of your entire life, they also need to know everything about your insurance policy, which I happen to not know.

Call me ignorant, but I go to appointments, wait on the EOB, and pay the bill. If there is a co-pay, I pay it at the appointment. Works well for us.

Apparently, that does not satisfy the criteria for the hospital.

So, I call the insurance company to obtain the needed information. Wouldn't you know I had to get the lady that knew nothing?

Five questions = Twenty-five minutes

Are you kidding me? I pray this was her first day. If not, I know who is not parking in the employee of the month spot.

I'm sure I'm just hormonal. However, if you were to call me at my j.o.b., and ask me five questions pertaining to my j.o.b., I feel certain I could knock them out fairly quickly. Otherwise, I could connect you with someone who could.

Working in healthcare makes me entirely too critical.

Casting off

So this is really not an ideal situation for a toddler. Bath time has became a little more interesting.

Did I mention how Mommy and Daddy are on constant edge now? Things we used to let Little do without any help, now have us super-paranoid. Basically, she is only allowed to breathe without assistance.

It's a small buckle fracture from tripping and falling. She tried to catch herself, and ended up breaking the bone right near the wrist. (Think taking a stick of butter and slamming it on the counter. That's the best way to describe her fracture.)

Actually, she got her cast off this morning. She is now sporting a hot red splint. A removable splint. We can take a regular bath kind of splint. All is well in the world again.

The anchor holds

Just three short months and 8 whole days from my mother-in-laws first appointment with her oncologist did the Lord take her.

Are we ever ready to bury a parent? I can assure you, if you haven't experienced it, you don't want to. I told Husband that I could live the rest of my life without having to do this again. And I mean it.

I must tell you that she handled everything with dignity and grace. She lived, when most others may have grieved. She reconnected and revived relationships that had long passed. She restored and renewed her faith. She persevered.

For my pastor to stand over her casket and say that he hoped to have her faith if he is ever faced with her situation speaks volumes. She never wavered. The anchor held.

It's been quite an emotional experience for me. Sure, she's my mother-in-law. She's also my friend. She's the grandmother to my children. I hurt for them.

Will I be able to do her justice as I tell them stories of her? Will they truly ever know how excited she was for them, even having never met Blue? Will I be able to convey her spirit to them?

In her last days, I suspect she knew her time was short. She handled some things that in most eyes was probably plenty of time for. But I believe she had an intuition.

She worried some for the life she was leaving. She worried more for the people she would leave behind. I suppose everyone does.

What will life be like without her? I don't know. Currently, we are still in the frame of mind, where even if for a split second, we expect her to walk in the room to visit with company or pick up the phone to call her, in the next instant, realizing she's gone.

We received an answered prayer. We prayed for healing and for mercy. And that the Lord provided.

We take comfort in knowing that He knows every tear we cried. And the only way we get through this is through His grace and strength.

In your prayer time, please remember us.

To my dearest Husband

God did not design us to be alone. He saw that Adam needed a partner. He knew that you would need me, and I would need you.

It's a wonderful thing having someone to experience life with. The laughter, the tears. The joys, the heartaches. The blessings, the hardships. The milestones. The memories.

To wake you up when you fall asleep on the couch. Even more, to remove your glasses when they are barely hanging on to your earlobe, as you have been asleep for hours.

To help me change the sheets. To aid me in every avenue that my protruding belly prevents me from doing.

So, Husband, I wanted to remind you that you are not alone. We are not alone.

Are you really suppose to labor on Labor Day?

So this weekend, I did the unthinkable.

I convinced Little to help me go through her toys and decide which ones could be given to Blue.

Obviously, anything pink was staying.

Little did a good job of sharing, which is quite a task for her.

I cleaned out her closet and chest of drawers (or, as Southerns say, chester drawers).

I made Husband carry all those girl clothes and shoes to the attic. Why? I don't know.

And, because he forgot, I carried the trash to the road this morning.

He is excused. He did some painting this weekend, but of course, the dove hunt came first.

My apologies

I'm sorry I haven't posted in two whole weeks.

We are like every other family in America. We have entirely too much going on in our lives, and before we know it, too much time has passed.

Currently, I sense that Satan is trying to overwhelm our family. We have had heartache after heartache for the past few months. I told someone yesterday, as I was sobbing on their shoulder, that our plate is overloaded.

And still my cup runneth over. Because in spite of Satan's attempt to break my spirit, to convince me I am alone, to challenge my faith, he will not succeed.

Yesterday, driving home, I asked God (aloud) to cast Satan far away from my family. It's in times like these, when Satan is working overtime on your emotions, that you can truly grow in faith and preserverence.

I ask you to pray for us. For our entire family.



For peace.

Help

Where are my feet? Sure, if I lean forward I can see them, but I do not remember being like this so early with Little.




At first glance, this may look like a sleeping child. However, when you spend a little time examining the picture you begin to realize the child is not asleep.

You can see that her mouth is puckered, because she does not want to talk to you anymore.

You can see that her eyes are closed, because she is ignoring you.

You can also see that her eyes are probably rolled to the ceiling, because she is that disgusted with you.

Big day

Today is a big day for me.

I give my final presentation in the pursuit of a bachelor's degree. This is it.

If you think about it or have the time, please say a prayer around noon. Presentations last from noon to 3 PM. I will not know what time mine is until I get there.

Twitter mountains

I have a Twitter account. I rarely tweet, and if I do, it is in response to someone else.

I do enjoy reading different people's thoughts and experiences. For those of you that do not know about Twitter, you follow people (much like being someone's friend on Facebook).

I follow Max Lucado, a brillant Christian author. I have read many of his books. "He Chose the Nails" changed my life. Forever.

Max tweeted today this profound statement:
"Pray specifically about fears - Putting your worries into words disrobes them. They look silly standing there naked."

There is such truth to that. The things that scare us, typically sound ridiculous when spoken.

When scared of something, we should share with others our fears and concerns. We should start with God. Who better to share with? Next, we should share with friends, including spouse (prayer warriers that give good Godly advice).

I honestly can not count how many times I've been afraid of something that never ended up happening. Of a concern that never was a factor. Of a scenario that never played out.

Amazing how Satan takes our fears, our mole hills, and makes them into mountains. Even more amazing is how God moves those mountains.

When we verbalize what we are afraid of, whatever it is loses power. Maybe it's because God was waiting for us to confess it. Maybe it's because God gave words to someone we confided in. Maybe it's because when God turned his ear, Satan tucked his tail.

Whatever the case, Max Lucado's statement spoke volumes to me today. And hopefully, it will to you, especially if you are afraid.

I'm kind of a celebrity

Some of you have heard my story before. Some of you get to hear it again.

For as long as Husband has been madly in love with me, he begged me to go hunting with him. After years and years of persistence, I obliged.

Turns out, I actually like it.

The day after Christmas, I knocked down a nice buck.



He went straight to the taxidermist. We got him back last week.



Just in time for the Wildlife Extravaganza.



Net score 128 3/8 inches. Anything over 125 inches makes the Magnolia Record Book.

Big Bunko

I posted this on the Caring Bridge website, but I wanted to share it here as well.

Last night, two of the ladies in our church (with help from lots of people and Facebook) hosted a Bunko fundraiser in honor of Marilyn. It was a wonderful event with a large amount of funds raised in an extremely short amount of time. Much thanks to anyone who had any part in the process: donations, players, Facebook posters, refreshment bakers, card table donators, etc. Without your hard work and selfless generosity, events like this could not be possible.

I will say one of the ladies who hosted the event recently lost her mother to cancer. She gave a touching speech about cancer and how it forever changed her life.

Cancer is cruel and merciless. Cancer is not prejudice. Cancer fights harder and faster trying to get the upper hand. Cancer doesn't care about your hair or your vital organs. Cancer has no concern for your family. Cancer has no boundaries.

In memory of my friend's mother, Cancer never wins. The body may succumb, but the spirit never will.

And what cancer did to my friend, the hole in her heart from the loss of her mother, allowed room for a fire to be lit. To give kind words to us, because she's been there. To host fundraisers, because she knows the needs before we do. To continue fighting, because she knows the battle field.

Thank God for her. Thank God for the other hostess. Thank God for all the generosity. Thank God for the prayers.

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13: 13

Door

So, I'm getting bigger. My belly is protruding. And Blue's movements are getting more aggressive.

With that comes lots of talks with Little.

Here are a few of our conversations:

M: Where is brother?

L: In you belly.

M: That's right.

Little starts to cry.

M: What's wrong? Why are you crying?

L: I want your baby in my belly.

Ummmmmmmmm..........

L: I don't see the baby.

M: Well, you'll be able to see the baby after he grows some more.

L: Where's the door?

Double ummmmmmmmmmm............. (Thank goodness for c-sections!)

And Little calls my OB "Uncle."

I can never be too surprised by what comes out of this little girl's mouth.

Bunko, anyone???

Calling all Bunko players!!! (Well, you really don't have to know how to play. It's so easy to pick up and play.)

The ladies of Crestview Church at 162 Aponaug Road, are hosting a Bunko tournament for my mother-in-law, Marilyn Frazier.

Marilyn has stage IV lung cancer and is traveling back and forth to Jackson for radiation therapy and chemotherapy. Medical and travel expenses are adding up extremely quickly.

It is $20 per person to play in the Bunko tournament. The tournament will be Monday, August 1, from 6-8 PM at Crestview Church.

Please RSVP by Sunday, July 31, to Liz Stonestreet 662-582-1683 or Spring Hawkins 601-955-2125.

Try to come. Spread the word. Have a fun night out.

Planning

I am a planner by nature. I feel the need to plan every intricate detail of my being. I prefer routine (a routine that I plan, none the less).

When I was pregnant with Little, I planned. I prepared. I nested.

Now that I am pregnant with Blue, I haven't planned (nearly as much). I have prepared (at all). And how can someone nest with a two and a half year old?

I'd like to think that my lack of planning during this pregnancy is completely normal since it's not my first pregnancy. However, it may just be me.

I have not bought one, single thing for Blue. Until yesterday. I purchased his bedding.

Luckily, I saved every tiny iota from Little. Now, granted, Blue cannot wear Little's clothes, but we still have the carseats, bottles, bouncer, etc.

That should count for something. Shouldn't it?

Happy Birthday Daddy!

Jeremy's birthday was yesterday. Little was feeling a little under the weather, but we made the best of the day.

Pictures to come soon.

Toe jam

For the record, I love Little regardless.


But this....................................

















has got to stop!

Pink or Blue?

Yesterday, we had a doctor's visit and THE ultrasound. You know, the one where you find out what you are having?



I was so excited to have the same ultrasound technologist that did my sonogram when we found out with Little.



Little was so excited. She wanted to see the baby. She held my hand during the ultrasound and told me, "Don't be scared."



She helped me down off the table when the ultrasound was over.



Did I mention that she is going to have a brother??



Looking like the field will be evenly divided. Mommy and Little versus Daddy and Blue.



How fun is this going to be??

And just to tide you over.....

Who busted my lip?

We had quite the interesting conversation this morning.

As I'm getting ready for work, Husband comes to confront me about something.

In all seriousness.....

Husband: "Did you hit me in my sleep?"

Me: "What?"

H: "My lip is busted, and my two front teeth are sore. Did you hit me in my sleep?"

M: (giggles) "No, I did not. But now that you mention it, you hit me in your sleep."

H: "I did?"

M: "Yes. You elbowed me in my side."


I laughed. I did.

His lip is busted. His teeth are sore.

Apparently, it's rough on his side of the bed.

Illness

We've really had a lot going on lately. I cannot even begin to convey all of the ups, downs, twists, and turns. But I can honestly say that it is our turn. We have been and continue to be so blessed.

Everywhere we look, there are heartaches and troubled times for so many. And for so long, we have been been, at least for the most part, excluded from the brunt of the pain, the difficulty, and the tears.

Until now.

Husband's mother has been diagnosed with Stage IV (metastatic) lung cancer.

The reality is that the prognosis is poor. The treatments are projected to be devastating. The struggle will be great.

But with God, we have no worries. Grandma has been strong and optimistic. She has a will to fight, a will to live.

Of course, we have no idea what tomorrow holds. Not for her. Not for anyone. And that's okay.

If you will, pray for her. For us. For her doctors. For God's will.

But he said to me,

"My grace is sufficient for you,

for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly

about my weaknesses, so that

Christ's power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12: 9

You may follow her journey at http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/marilynfrazier

Peace

"My soul finds rest in God alone;

my salvation comes from Him.

He alone is my rock and salvation;

He is my fortress, I will never be shaken."

Psalm 62: 1-2

I know that You are with me.

You have gone before us. With no fear, we step forward.

Weekend recap

I know it's Wednesday, and I'm just now recapping the weekend. I live on the wild side.

We made a flying trip to the beach for a much needed getaway.

I needed to sit in the sand, with my feet in the gulf, and SPF 2000 on my skin.

Little's been asking about the beach, the pool, and the shells. Apparently, she needed it, too.

Husband needed to drive us.

And so we drove down on Sunday and came back on Tuesday. (See, you robbers, you never know what I'm doing.)

You are probably sitting there wondering why on Earth would we go from Sunday to Tuesday. Like I said, I live on the wild side.

And it frees up some time for another long weekend at the beach.

I'm in the middle of a bazillion page paper, and I needed a break.

I am 7 weeks away from my final presentation. And a week or two later the graduation procession will take place from my mailbox to my front door.

(Because when this is your fourth graduation, the cap and gown are ridiculous, the guest speaker is over-rated, and your bored.)

Bubbles

Life is so nuts for us right now.

We have a million different things going on, which is why I haven't blogged lately.

I've been a non-existant picture-taker. I can't even be sure that my memory card is in my camera. To be really honest, I think my memory card is in the cup holder in my car. Who knows?

The big news on the home front: 7 days in a row--Little tee teed in the potty. She only does that once a day, but we are making progress. All she needed was a bubble machine.

My grandmother bought her a battery operated bubble machine. I had no idea that Husband has been riding around with this bubble machine in his truck, until I put my foot down.

Saturday, we had a birthday party to go to, and Meredith had one diaper in her drawer (Don't tell her, but there was more in other drawers!). I told her she could potty in the chair, or we could not go to the party. I explained (ummm, lied) that it was her last diaper, and she needed to wear that to the party. After 45 minutes, she conceeded when I told her that I would let her blow bubbles in the house, because I never let her do that.

And with ease, she walked right over to the potty and handled her business.

And then there were no bubbles, because Husband apparently believes bubbles are best kept in his truck.

A little phone call later, and Husband hurried home with the bubbles.

Life has been bubblicious ever since.

Big mistake

Little's Memaw has been out of town for two weeks.

(I don't really blog about this kind of stuff as it happens. You know, they tell you criminals like this kind of information, so they can break into people's houses. Anyway, out of fear of career internet searchers of out of town people so they can rob you, I choose not to discuss things of this nature until after the person has returned. I would not want to be an accessory or aid and abet a criminal or be charged with any other crime, like being a bad writer--Mr. Red Pen Man.)

Back to the story at hand, I made the fatal error of telling Little that Memaw was home. Let. Me. Tell. You. It. Was. A. Fatal. Error.

There were tears. The lip was poked out. It was not a tantrum. Just a heartbroken little girl that wanted to see her Memaw.

So, I called Memaw, who happily obliged to let me bring Little to visit her for just a few minutes.

And it was like Memaw had never been gone. She went to telling Memaw exactly how things needed to be done and when she needed them done.

And I am pretty sure the theme from "Chariots of Fire" was playing.

Umm, where is my kid?

Last night, we went to the ball park to let Little see some friends play ball. It was a disaster, because we missed one child's game, and then had to balance watching two children play at the same time.

I will say that one of the children is one of Little's most favorite people in the entire Milky Way galaxy. Entire. Galaxy.

As we were watching said child play, Little broke and ran from me.

Now, in my defense, I was blocked in from the bleachers and the array of various folding chairs.

So when I was able to break free, I saw Little making a turn at the bleachers, and by the time, I made it to the end of the bleachers, she was gone.

Gone.

I began to hyperventalate. My head is going back and forth looking for my precious Little.

And then I heard it.




"Who's kid is on the field?"




Oh, yes. I knew.


I go through the dugout, weaving in between kids, and there she is.



In the pitcher's circle with her friend.


Unbelievable. And embarassing. And I look irresponsible.

The pics I've been promising

I have four pages of a 25 page research paper due in 72 hours, but I believe it is more important for my audience to see what is going on in my life. Besides, yesterday I turned in my application for diploma, and once you turn it in, I think it's pretty much mandatory they graduate you.

Two Saturdays ago (how embarrassing I am just now blogging about two Saturdays ago, but since I make my own rules it is okay), Little's cousin celebrated her fourth birthday. I took lots of pictures, so I tried to narrow down to just a few.

They are not in any particular order, which is why her hair is a wreck on the very first picture. This is while drying off, which is why she looks like Shaggy.



Husband and his Memaw, one of the sweetest ladies I know.



This is Husband's Papaw. Hard to believe the woman above is married to the man below. He tries to act all serious and mean around the grandkids. Likes to tell people the grandkids are scared of him. Just this weekend, I asked Little is she wanted to go see Memaw Frazier, and she said no. Then I asked if she wanted to see Papaw Frazier, and she said yes. So Papaw, you got them grandkids scared to death of you.



Playing in the sprinkler was so much fun.



And then, we played with some of Cousin's toys.



And Grandma took pictures. Since the purchase of my new camera, I have turned into Grandma. We are ridiculous.



And the fan felt so good to Little.



And she had so much fun going down the slide.



This is right before we got in our pool one afternoon. I thought she looked a tiny bit mischievous, but I disregarded that notion. Until just now. I remember she ate a banana. And now that I see she is holding my old camera case, I know why she looked so mischievous. Two days later, we found banana in the camera case. And the camera case found the garbage.



This is what I discovered one night when I was dead tired. Somebody had a party in my bed. So I did what any good wife would do...I politely pushed all the toys onto Husband's side of the bed, crawled into bed, and went to sleep. When Husband came to bed, he noisily threw every toy into a chair and gave me the "Stank eye" while doing so.



And if you have not read my post from this week, please do so before continuing on.

This would be the family after getting the news that Christmas will be a little bigger this year. Nona's smile is out of control.

Situations

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Phillippians 4: 6-7

I'm a blog stalker. I'll admit it. I found it embarrassing that just a few weeks ago, I called a particular place and asked for a department, and the person that answered the phone is someone I have never met but I know her fears, her joys, and what she did this past weekend. I blogstalk her. And I told her.

I have not been arrested yet, so I assume that I am not the only one who blogstalks. Maybe she had heard that before. At least I hope so.

All of that to say, that of my many daily readings, this verse that I've heard hundreds of times, brought so much comfort and peace to me yesterday. Again:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Phillippians 4: 6-7

I tell those in my Sunday School class that when we pray for something God always answers. We have to be prepared for the answer.

Yes.

No.

Wait.

And we have all experienced this variety of responses from God. We've all had our feet washed during those times. We've all had our faith tested in those experiences. We've all had lessons to learn much like those in Biblical times.

Amazing. Amazing how many years have passed, and we still are able to learn more about God's love, grace, and mercy. Last time:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Phillippians 4: 6-7

You know what I like about this verse? Paul does not tell us that when we request something of God He will answer exactly what we have asked or in the time we ask it.

But there will be peace. And there will be protection.

Thought you might need to hear this today. I did.

Just when we thought

I promise I will have pictures eventually. Not today.

Just when we thought

we couldn't love anymore,

He said, "You three,

will soon become four."

Tantrums and picnics

You ever been this hungry?

Needed to do the double hand shove? All I can hear is Mike Myers in a thick Irish accent slowly saying, "Get in my belly!"

And when we don't need food, we need rest.


A lot of rest.

My mother's day card. I must be really special for Little to use those Mickey stickers. And I got two Donald's. Mommy is doing something right. Well...

At least, I previously had done something right. This is because I will not let her sit by the hot water heater. I know. DHS should be immediately contacted.

I did manage to get invited to a picnic. Little preferred using her Cozy Coupe to maneuver back and forth through the house, until all of the items had arrived at the picnic. This went on for forever.

Daddy got invited too.

We had "ba-getti."

We ate it with our "Torks."

And Daddy did not have to lift one finger.

Not even to lift his cup to his mouth.

Because I can

I just haven't felt much like blogging. I don't know why. I just don't wanna.

And that's why I haven't. Because I can do whatever I want to do. As long as Little is fed, clean, changed, content, rested, watching Mickey.

It should be no surprise to anyone that Little can do a lot of things because she can. So why am I surprised by this?

Why am I surprised that Little still, still takes a pappy? Because she can.
Why am I surprised that Little refuses to potty train? Because she can.
Why am I surprised that this morning she demanded that I take her metal grocery cart full of wooden vegetables, fruits, and pantry items and place it in my car to carry to Memaw's? Because she can.

So when I refused to pack up that buggy, those groceries, because I can, it was no longer for discussion. I won.

But the potty training thing, Winner, all 36 inches and 27 pounds, is Little.
I have waved the white flag. The war is over.

She won't really tell me why she will not potty train. She admitted that she liked having her diaper changed. Well, now she also likes something else.

She likes having a bath in the sink. Not like when your sweet precious little one can first sit up, and like every other Southern woman, you place that sweet love in the kitchen sink. No.

I am now having to wash her hair like she is paying for for my services at Mommy Salon. Towel under her neck and chest. Head in the sink. Loving life. This has been going on since Thursday. It ends with me soaking wet, my cabinets minutes away from mildewing, and the floor needing a caution sign.

If I wasn't concerned my camera would drown in all the hoopla, I would have it handy to take pictures.

And because I can, Husband, I am sleeping late Saturday. Write it in your calendar. I know your reading this.

Genius

I managed to do some cleaning out of Little's toy box. It was a spontaneous cleaning event. When Baby Pink, our beloved baby doll, has lost her spoon, Mommy must become an archaeologist and dig through the years of toys.

I will stop here, and inform you that I cleaned out the toy box so well that Husband has not even noticed.

One might ask if that upsets me. The answer is no. Let me tell you why.

Before a child stakes claim on your home and all of its contents, everything belongs to you. If you want to throw away anything, you can. No one complains. No one notices.

But after that precious little one comes, nothing is yours. (Not even bathroom time.) So when you cut a piece of Christmas wrapping paper too short to wrap the intended present, you keep it. It is still in the guest bedroom on May 3. Why? Because the world would stop turning if Little did not have access to that particular piece of wrapping paper.

Where was I? Oh, toy box. So I gathered up toys and put them away without any notice from anyone.

Genius. Yes I am.

Mother's Day warning

Warning to everyone: Mother's Day is Sunday.

Yes, I know we just had Easter.

You should have seen the look on mine and Husband's faces when our pastor announced Mother's Day projects for this weekend.

The Royal Wedding

I'll admit it.

I set the DVR to record the big event.

And I was nearly late for work, because I could not stop watching it.



There is something about this royal family that makes some Americans feel like they are our own.

Maybe it's because our parents were watching when Prince Charles married Princess Diana. (Probably more like our moms, but you get my point.)

Maybe it's because our generation watched Diana's funeral.

And it's quite possibly because we all love fairy tales. The Cinderella stories.



What I love most about the whole event is that there was no scandal. There is no controversy.


On a side note, Kate's dress was phenomenal. She is beautiful.

And Little loved the carriage ride. You know, the horses.

Okay, Harry. Batter up.

Easter weekend

We vacuum in heels. Who is this? The next June Cleaver?





We dyed Easter eggs. We made such a mess.










Some turned out good. Some not so good.

I tried to explain to Little that we have to keep the eggs in the refrigerator, so they will dry. Pouting ensued about the eggs being in the fridge.



This is the pouting stance. Won't look at you. Arms crossed. Now, we are pouting because we can't go down to the pond.



The best part of the Easter party, at least in Little's eyes.




The worst part of the party.




We hunted eggs three different times this weekend. This is at Big Daddy's.

Please forgive the next footage. This is raw.



Morning hair. How appropriate she likes the barrettes from her basket best.



And even though we are terrified of the Easter bunny, he still came to see us.



Now let's get serious. Yesterday in church, I had a particularly mortifying experience. Little was determined she was going to sit with her Memaw. I told her she could, handed her bag over, and pointed her down the outside aisle. She made it safe and sound.


For about five minutes. Then, she comes back up the same aisle, but this time she proceeds to wave (the only thing missing was her crown). Everyone turns and smiles at us.

Don't for one second think this is the embarrassing part. It would not be.

Now on Easter Sunday, every church is full of visitors. Ours is no exception. Yesterday, some visitors happened to sit in front of us, Apparently, we seem like a nice, wholesome family. Like a family you would want to sit in front of.

Well, when Little gathers up her Sunday School crafts, she begins to head back up the very same aisle to return to her Memaw.

No, ma'am. I would not let her go. Well, we teared up, began to cry, and suddenly got a little loud. So I pick her up to remove her from church, and before I could get out the doors............


She loudly says, TWICE,


"What are you going to do to me?"

Let me say, contrary to her Oscar winning performance, I do not routinely beat her or torture her.

Mortified!