Jeremiah 30:21

"... I will bring him near and he will come close to me,

for who is he who will devote
himself
to be close to me?"
declares the Lord.

Dreaming Of Camping

It's around this time of year that I really start to miss the camping season. Winter now looses whatever ounce of appeal it started out with way back in November (sshhhh! I know.). It doesn't matter what the groundhog predicts, winter will last through March. And then we have to endure month long periods of wind and rain. Finally, in May, we can enjoy the consistent warmth of better months.

Aahhhhhh, May. It's so freakin' far away.

In our desperation for the camping season to begin, we traveled over to Hanover today to tour through some camping trailer's - just for fun. And wouldn't you know it - a blizzard blew through the closer we got to the dealership! My toes were freezing - my kneecaps shook - we drug snow in with us as we toured the trailer's! Camping season seems light years away. But we booked our annual Memorial Weekend Camping Trip already. You have to book those sites now, in January, because many campgrounds get full early on - and this year we need around 8 campsites together.

Yes, the groundhog will soon be pulled from it's whatever. What does it come out of? A log? A hole in the ground? A groundhog house? I heard the PETA people want the groundhog replaced with a robotic groundhog. This might not be a bad idea. We could program it to predict the end of winter sooner. Maybe God will listen better to a robotic groundhog.

Three things are guaranteed: winter won't end tonight, we will not be getting a travel trailer, and smorgasborg restaurants are wasted on a girl like me.

Cold Hearted

I had to ask myself tonight - am I cold hearted? I’m reading blog posts on adoptions and the comments that follow (great posts - from Flamingo), how not to get caught up in the emotion of seeing helpless children, how it’s not wise to adopt to “rescue”, but to adopt because you want to parent another child. I don’t even want to adopt to rescue, I don’t want to adopt at all. I don’t even want to see the news footage of the Haitian orphans.

It seems like everyone is caught up in compassion towards the people of Haiti - everyone but me and the doctor. And maybe I’m desensitized from all his rantings on the Haiti topic. Maybe it’s because I haven’t watched the news footage and seen how awful it is down there. Maybe I don’t want to watch people being pulled out of tight spots because I am claustrophobic. The news footage that I did see was of a man who was stuck in a small space under a collapsed building for days, surviving on cookies and beer. It made my stomach twist to see how closed in he was, no sunlight, no fresh air. I had to turn away. I had a bad dream that night. It wasn’t because I felt sorry for him and so many who didn’t make it out - these people aren’t real to me. I don’t want them to be real. I’ve closed my heart off to them. Because I can’t help make their pain go away. I can’t bring their loved ones back. My compassion, sorrow, and sympathies won’t make their life better.

I used to beg God to let me shoulder some of the pain my loved ones were undergoing. If I could feel intense pain for their situation, then maybe they wouldn’t hurt so much.

I started to have shoulder and neck pain a couple years ago. I’d get headaches from it. I was trying to feel what my friend was feeling. I was trying to take some of her grief away. If only I could shoulder it for a while. My neck and shoulder pain intensified after one girl’s weekend get-away from hell. I decided to give the chiropractor a chance. After a couple of months of undergoing mid-evil torture several times a week, my pain issues finally dissipated. But in that time, God illuminated an obvious flaw in my theory. I am not God! I can’t take people’s pain away, no matter how bad I feel. What he’s doing in their lives is something that is far better than what I ever could if I had the power. . I finally realized how controlling I was. I wanted to shift God’s power into my capable hands. Because I didn’t trust him. And he was a slow worker.

I’ve gotten much better at handing over my loved ones pain. I still hurt for and with them. Boy, do I hurt at times. But I'm trusting more and more that God will not stop pursuing them, that he will take care of them, that in time, they will draw close to him and find the comfort that he can bring.

What about these Haitians? I don’t know. I’m glad I don’t live there. But I also realize that craziness is happening in the world, and it will only get worse. And it will hit closer to home eventually. I know I need to feel compassion toward these people and people like them all over the world. I’m sure I have the potential to feel compassion towards them. Someday I need to go to them, to experience them and their way of life. Then they will be real to me.

I have been focused on what is right in front of me - how can I best reach the people that I come into contact everyday. How can I be God’s love to them? And I am struggling to teach my monkey’s God’s word and the way he wants us to live. I am trying to support my hubby in this stressful time for him, and my brother.

But I know I can do more. There are so many opportunities to reach outside my own family and workplace. I feel God’s tug at my heart. His invitation. Maybe I can’t go to Cuba right now (that's where I want to go someday), but there are ways to reach these kinds of people.

I just need to open my heart and obey in what ever way God has in mind - no matter how big or small.

But …



… sometimes, when I’m caught up in my own survival, it’s hard to think about somebody else’s.


That's the plain truth of it. And it's ugly.

Why I Love My Job

Yes, my job can be hectic, stressful, and many times I end up feeling completely stupid. However, I still love my job. And who's job isn't at times hectic and stressful? Being a stay-at-home mom sure wasn't easy!

At least with this job, people thank me and smile. I even got a hug today. One time, somebody told me I was pretty. Another time, somebody said I had thick hair (friends, I love it when people think I have thick hair! Because I really don't - just ask Sista D!). I have men flirting with me (this is amusing) and old people telling me their stories. I love to hear their stories. We have druggies looking for narcotic refills, we have people trying to get on disability (who certainly don't need to be on disability), we have the rich people of York, we have some poor ones as well. And everybody has known my doctor for a very long time - like they're the only patient who knows the doctor so well. They come to be entertained by him - you never know what craziness is going to come out of his mouth, or what he'll pull out of his lab coat (today he pulled out a zip-lock bag of hair - one of his patient's).

My doctor is very dramatic at times. He is very opinionated and many times, when he gets on a political rant, I and the patient will get depressed! He tells jokes, bad jokes which I have to hear time after time to each patient. He's flamboyant, he loves to talk, he takes his time.

I love my job. Because it entertains me. Because I get to make people more comfortable. I spoil them a bit, which is easy to do - helping them with their socks and shoes, putting lotion on their feet, smiling at them, listening to them - this is all it takes! I love my job because the patients are so entertaining. Because the doctor is so entertaining. And because the people I work with are so fun. I get to learn about anatomy and physiology again (pertaining to the feet mostly). I am learning a trade.

Besides, what else am I going to do during the day? Laundry? Cleaning? Organizing? No thanks. I'm done with that (okay, I'm done with that until the weekend arrives).

Twisted Crazy Talk Tuesday - Edition 2

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

As boys call Dad, Emily fills gastank haphazardly, jeopardizing Kansas, largely metropolises, needing overtime police quickly- rescuing stupid tourists under very wobbly Xmas yulelogs. Z?

Waiting For The Dog To Die

I'd like to think it's soon - she is going on eleven this coming summer. But I've been told (the informant getting evil satisfaction in doing so) that small dogs tend to live long. Snap! (That's what my kids would say). I haven't taken her to her yearly November physical for the past two Novembers. I haven't taken her to her hair dresser in a very long time. In fact, Hubby felt some compassion toward her one day and cut her hair all by himself (he's the only one who likes her). I've avoided getting her registered or licensed (don't turn me in please) because I keep hoping, in the off chance that the heart worm would invade, that she won't last much longer. But the last time I took her to her yearly, the doctor announced the dog had strong lungs and heart. I had to do some acting folks, but I convincingly smiled relief. I have to admit though, her bad breath has gotten better. I guess that's because she only has 3 teeth left.

Yes, I'm ready for a new comforter. Once I get a new comforter, I can paint my bedroom. Once I paint my bedroom, I can paint my bathroom. Once I paint my bathroom, well, maybe I'll finally buy cool lighting and cabinets. Oh, yes - I have dreams.

And it all begins when the dog dies.

Last January

One evening, about a year ago, we had an ice storm. Do you remember that? Ice coated the branches, the wind slammed the ice into our siding and onto our roof, it was a loud night. And also kind of eery. I sat down on my bed that night and wrote. What came out on paper was a mixture of emotions from different sources of stress. I look back on what I wrote now and I see that God was there with me in writing it. He was preparing my heart for the tough year that we were just entering. I had no idea what was coming. The fear that I wrote of in that paragraph was over what we were experiencing then, the uncertainty of financial security and all that entails. But it also spoke of a generalized fear. A fear of uncertain times for us as believers. Maybe it's on the dramatic side, but you should have heard what I heard that night (we live in the woods friends)! And it was the beginning of the year, a very uncertain time for us as a family.



Click HERE to read it.

Supper Tomorrow

Apple Cider Beef Stew - 407017 - Recipezaar

This is the recipe I'm going to attempt to get started in my crock pot tomorrow morning. I approve of each of the ingredients, so hopefully it will taste yummy put all together. I'll let you know.

Crazy Talk With A Twist

Here is some crazy talk with a twist. I'm going to write whatever comes to my mind in alphabetical order. Let's see how far I can go. First I must write the alphabet, because I need the help.

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

Absurd bovines call dearly every friggin' girl however idiotic jerks kill Lucy.

OOOO, I don't like that one. Let's try again. Except I might need to add a word out of order every now and then.

Angry benevolent cronies dilate early for growing Howards in jail. Kelly learns (that) mean nannies organize parties quarterly, ransacking Susie's torso unfortunately - very weird. Xenia yacks Zinnias.

And again.

Arrogant boss carries dead elephants for girls (who) howl intermittently. Instead (of) jealously kind lambs, mom negotiates (with) Oprah (for) pretty quiet rams so (that) Tammy (can) unfold various wrappers. XYZ.

Now that was fun! Leslie, I hope you're working on our button. This might have to become a Tuesday tradition. Twisted Tuesday Talk Tradition. Or, Runny Rhinnorea Rhinos Ran 'Round Rambling Rivers Tuesdays.

Crazy Talk

Here's a crazy idea - I'm going to write whatever is on my mind during the next few minutes - I won't even take my fingers off the keypad except to correct spelling because that will just bug the crap out of me despite the fact that I am a terrible speller - I really should be okay with this handicap since I've been dealing with it all my life. So, if you haven't noticed yet, this post will be full of run on sentences.

Okay, my mind is so tired. Have you ever had a tired mind before? Not only is my mind tired but I think I almost pulled my arm out of socket today trying to get a big man's difficult shoe on while worrying he was having a heart-attack in the chair - I wonder if he went to the ER or if he just kept his doctor appointment for later on in the day? I wanted him to go to the ER, but then again, who wants the Flu? So, my shoulder hurts. My neck hurts too because I hold my head in such a position while I'm vacuuming nail debris as the doctor works. OOPS! My fingers left the keypad - many apologies to my readers.

I got home this evening and guess what? Hubby was making spaghetti with meat sauce! He is really becoming domesticated!

Okay, I'm starting to slow up. What else is in this blank mind of mine tonight? Not much else. It's not even 9pm and I need to go to bed soon. Tomorrow is grocery night if I get home at a decent time and we're not too tired. I only have 6 meals planned, I like to have at least 8, 10 is ideal. What am I going to make - oh yeah, I forgot to include the chicken corn soup meal. Now I've got to get that recipe down from the cabinet and I don't think I have the energy to. Did I mention that my arm hurts and my neck? My tailbone still hurts too. What? You didn't know about my tailbone? I like to refer to it as my coccyx, but I feel weird writing that because then people will think I have a whole other problem than what I actually have. I had a sledding incident involving a steep icy hill, a toboggan containing two sis-in-laws and myself, and a ramp at the bottom of the hill. This was on Christmas Eve. It still hurts to sleep on it. And I wasn't able to x-ray it at work.

Well, I've got to stop now, I just don't think I can go on. Writing non-stop for 10 minutes is hard. I keep wanting to go back and correct. And that's a no-no. But I do it anyway. I cheat at free writing. Because I'm not all type B, I've got type A issues going on too. Having both type A and type b personalities really screws a person up. They cancel out each other because I'm not good at either one of them because I can't seem to focus on just one. This is just another reason why I'm almost certifiably insane.

I love spell check.
Goodnight friends.

Comedy Relief

Hubby and I had an unexpected date night last evening. It was awesome! This is how you get your parents to watch the kids overnight - strategically time a visitation, while returning the borrowed pie plate, around the time your brother-in-law drops his kids off for a sleepover. Nana will miss the kids so much (it helps if Nana has just come back from a week's stay at the mountains) that she can't help but invite them to join the party.

Works every time.

Hubby and I used our gift-certificate to Red Lobster at Longhorn Steakhouse and then we rented a movie at the Redbox. Hubby's been wanting to watch the movie, The Proposal, for a couple months now and I finally gave in. I had low expectations. Turns out it was a really good movie - and it was a chick flick which I thought quite humorous since hubby wanted to watch it so much. I didn't know Hubby had such a soft and sensitive side! I need to let Hubby pick the movies out more often. I tend to rent really disturbing and depressing movies.

I recommend this light and funny chick flick. It was clean and the humor in it was not a stupid slapstick humor. So, take my advise, return that pie plate at that strategic time, use your gift certificate, and rent the Proposal.

Oh, and I almost forgot to include in my writings the cherry on top! I bought 2 bottles of wine last evening at $3.99/bottle! What a deal!

Much thanks goes to my in-laws for being so accommodating, my brother Dan for the gift certificate, my hubby for the excellent movie choice, and the state liqueur store for having such cheap wine.

I Don't Know

I get to meet and talk with a lot of people during the course of my work day. Many of these people are old, quite frankly. Some of them come into the office with their husband/wife of many many years. Some of them are siblings. Some of them are widows who are lonely. They hang around the waiting room long before their appointment time and stay long afterwards, talking to anybody who has a set of ears.

I've been in a room assisting the doctor while certain conversations take place. I can't speak during these conversations. My heart aches too much. To speak would be spewing pain over people who seem to be at peace with the subject. And it aggravates me. How can I be struggling over this still? Don't I have hope in life after death? Aren't they without? Why are they so easy about this whole thing while I, who have hope beyond the grave, am still grappling with the concept of death?

On one hand death is a simple concept. I have explained it to my kids and they understand. I understand. I even understand that death was never supposed to happen, that it is a consequence of sin. I understand that if we believe that Jesus died instead of us, taking our sin upon himself, and then resurrecting the third day, if I believe that Jesus is God, than death is of no consequence. He has defeated it. Death has lost it's sting.

But I still struggle with understanding it. Don't get me wrong, I don't fear dying - for the most part. I look forward to meeting God face to face, to be reunited with my loved ones, to finally heave the 'old man' off my back.

What I struggle with is something less conceptual. What I struggle with is the surprise of it all. What I struggle with is how one person, who is loved and known, who has been a presence in my life for so long, can suddenly vanish.

I am here. And she is not. Her laughter echos in my mind and that is the closest thing to her actual laugh that is tangible. Just a memory. She died on a Saturday evening and Tuesday she was cremated. There is nothing left of her that is living. And I just can't comprehend it. The "anniversary" of her death is coming up in April. It's almost been a year. And I still am struggling with the shock of it. Where is the hope that I'm supposed to have ready to explain to those who ask of it? It's underneath bewilderment and pain. Still.

And the ones who talk about death as though it's part of the 'circle of life'? They stab me in the heart with their discussions.

When can I be healed and be the one with all the right answers?

Upside Down and Inside Out

I remember talking with my Dad about the end times when I was a kid. I asked him if he thought God was coming back soon. My dad said that he thought it was soon, but soon could be 10 years or 100 years from now.

I've taken notice to how so many of my friends and family's lives are being turned upside down and inside out in the past couple years, this past year especially. My family's struggle does not stand alone. We are not in the minority. Everyone, just about, is facing life changes and challenges. And I'm left to wonder; What is God doing? I want to be in on the secret - on the plans! I want the whole picture all at once. But that is not his way.

Maybe he won't come back for 100 years or longer. Maybe these aren't the end times. Maybe I'm being an adult now and things are just more interesting at this point in life. Maybe, at my age, I should expect more loved ones to die. Maybe I just need to grow up?

But I should live like he's coming back this evening. I should live like this is the last day I'll have with my kids, my hubby. Because even if he isn't coming back for 500 more years, I'm still going to die someday. And that day could be today.

So what do I leave behind? What do I do to make my time here count? Who do I impact? And how? How can God use me to the fullest? And what is standing in his way? What stubbornness is causing me to take pause? What am I tripping over? What keeps me from living freely? What binds my hands together and keeps me quiet?

Here are my mission fields: My husband, my kids, and my coworkers. The first two are not so intimidating. I know how to act and what to say. And they come from the same foundation. I would venture to guess that most of those that I work with do not know the Lord. So how do I reach them? How do I separate myself and bear witness all the while inviting them in and loving them where they are at? How do I reach out to them and make the most impact because I just might not have another day with them?

There's a battle going on inside me. It's over comfort. It's over control. It's over desperation. It's over love. It's over trust.

I think we need to wake up friends. This may not be the end times. But we need to live like it. We need to set ourselves a part - to be a light. To live not only with the future in mind but to live fully in the present. To give everything we have each day, because to not would be a waste. We may not have tomorrow.

Chuck Swindoll read the results of a survey of 50 people who were in their 90's. One question was something like this: If you could rewind time and live differently, how would you do so? Here are the top three answers:

*I would take more risks

*I would reflect more

*I would leave behind something worthwhile, something that will last far beyond myself

The biggest regret I have with losing my friend and sis-in-law is that we didn't spend enough time together while we still had the time to do so. She and I have been friends since we were twelve years old. I swam in her pool. She invited me to her birthday parties. We used to go to Hershey park together, to the Hershey Bears hockey games, to highschool football and basketball games together. We played soccer together during our senior year. We both enjoyed watching Justin Phillips play football - until he got too arrogant. We loved eating pizza together because I would give her my cheese and she would give me her crusts :) But once we graduated, life got hectic. She and Dan both worked third shift and took college classes. I was a mommy. We were both home bodies. Thank goodness we were sis-in-laws or else we wouldn't have seen each other as often as we did!

I wish I could squeeze out every last ounce of love and fun in every single minute I share with my family and friends. It kills me everytime I wrongly handle a discipline issue with my kids. It frustrates me how stubborn and selfish I can be with my husband. I kick myself when I find myself drawn to office gossip. And I wish I could stay connected with my friends.

I wish I would live life abundantly, to live without reservations.

The worst thing to do in life is live passively.

Either hate God and fight him,

or

love God and LIVE.

Where Am I?

I don't think I really want to know.


"It is simply the leaping into imaginative activity of an idea which I would always have theoretically admitted - the idea that I, or any mortal at any time, may be utterly mistaken as to the situation he is really in."

~ C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed


I have this bad feeling that I'm supposed to be laying more out on the line. That I should live a life of desperation for the ones who still don't know Him, that I should be free with my money and support those who need funding. In short, I have a bad feeling that I need to live more like the people of the early church. But I don't want to. I want to have a leisurely life. But I battle over what purpose God has me here on earth, why during this time in history? I think in many ways I would have felt more comfortable living 100 years ago - who knows? (I probably would never have survived my first childbirth!) Shouldn't I give all my money to the church, take in the homeless, give my kids to the temple to apprentice as scribes? Shouldn't hubby and I go door to door and win souls?

What would God say to me if I would ask for his evaluation? I don't really want to know. I don't want to stick my neck out for him. I don't want to give my money to others. And I just want to put my kids to bed quickly - avoiding the devotions.

Yeah, that's where I'm at.

Bedtime Prayers

Every night for the past couple of years, my kids have said the same prayer. I know I know, I should make sure they pray for others, tell something to Jesus that they're thankful for, and ask forgiveness for whatever badness they got into that day. But I don't. I like their prayer. And I think God likes it too. I think it shows Him that they know He loves them, that they can come to Him when they're afraid because He's the one who will protect them. I don't know how they came up with it, Hubby and I don't pray like this. We don't start and end our prayers like they do, and nobody else they've heard does either. But I think it's kinda cool. I'm sure Satan hates it. And that makes me smile.

Here it is:

Jesus loves me,
I pray for daddy, mommy, EE, and me.
I pray for good dreams and not bad dreams.
I pray that you'll put a forcefield around me so that no bad guys and no monsters will get me.
Jesus loves me,
Amen.

Every now and then, I make them switch it up a bit. And maybe it's time to retire this prayer. But it's one of my favorites. I remember begging God to put a ten dollar bill in my little fort knox bank one time as a kid. I tested Him. I told Him, if He really was real, I would find that ten dollar bill in my bank the next morning. I gave Him a whole night to come up with the money. I was crest-fallen to find an empty fort knox bank in the A.M. Not because my faith in God was broken, but because He didn't give me the money! I also remember praying for the missionaries to be good. You know how missionaries are :)

Working

I have not written much on my job, but it's been a little over 2 months now. I've been on the job long enough to get a good grasp on the office, it's workings, my coworkers, and my role as a podiatric assistant. Or at least I should.

I used to work at a nursing home as a nursing assistant. I had just completed a certificate program and passed the testing to become certified. It was very hard. I loved taking care of the residents, but the craziness of this particular nursing home made my job very stressful. I was new, without any experience, and they gave me one of the hardest halls. I had 15 patients most days. Many of them needed hoyer lifts to get them in and out of bed. A couple were so heavy that I needed another nurse just to help maneuver them while they were still in bed. I need one, but many times I had to go at it alone. I think this is where my back pain issues started. It took me very long to get my residents up, dressed, and ready for breakfast in the mornings. I was running ragged. It would have been a lot less stressful had I another nurse to work along side me. However, we were almost always short-staffed. I had everyone yelling at me, from housekeeping to family members to RN's. I couldn't get things done in time, I was always in a rush, and so I couldn't possibly take the best care of my residents like how I would have loved to. I couldn't offer them much dignity.

If you ever have a loved on in a nursing home, let me tell you how to get the best care for them. First, you must choose, if you can, a nursing home that has a great nurse/resident ratio. Then, after you choose the nursing home, you must become a pain-in-the-ass. It's the residents who have family members or friends that are constantly checking in on their loved one and making sure the best care is being done, raising hell if needed, that get the best care. The residents who are just left there to die get the worst care. It's unfortunate. But it's true. You must fight for your loved one.

I left that nursing home after 8 months of trying to become a better aide. I told the assistant director of nursing that I had to quit before something bad happens to a resident. Before my two weeks were up, on my day off, a terrible accident happened due to negligence. And one of my residents died. Had I been there that day, I could have prevented that from happening.

I felt like a failure. I couldn't understand why I wasn't better at my job. Why did it take me so long to get my residents up and out of bed? I worked my tail off, but I failed at it.

I dropped out of nursing school a couple years after that. I struggled to do well. I loved learning - but found it difficult to apply myself. I was engaged, then newly married. I felt like a failure after dropping out of nursing school.



This is the first job since working in an assisted living facility and nursing school. There is so much to learn. And I need to be at five different places at once. (well, I exaggerate here a little friends). All I have going for me is my willingness to work hard and my friendliness. The best part of the job are the patients, getting somebody new in every fifteen minutes. I love all the personalities, even the idiots. But it's the thousand tiny details that I find hard to remember. I'm always forgetting something, and I pray and cross my fingers (I find that I like to cover my bases, faith + superstition = success?) whenever I process x-rays. I have a boss that is an excellent doctor, but he's hard to work for. His standards and expectations are high, which they should be and I wouldn't want to be trained any different, but he's inconsistently impatient with me. He's consistently impatient with others. I think I'm starting this job at a very chaotic time for the office. And in this craziness I'm trying to do my best, soak up all the details. Many times I feel completely stupid. Why can't my mind remember to hand the 3/12 blade to the doctor with the blade down? Why can't I anticipate the next tool he needs yet? Why can't I complete a routine care note on my own? Did I just mess up the flagging system - again? (and why can't the flags be in florescent colors instead of grey, blue grey, grey green, and maroon?) Oh, there's so much to learn. And they desperately need me to learn it.

My day is supposed to be done at five, but on average I get out 30 minutes late. Last night I worked an extra hour and half. I'm missing my home life. I'm missing having a house that is organized. I miss having supper around 5pm. I don't know what my kids are learning in school.

But I love helping the patients. I love using my brain in this way, even though I feel so stupid. I celebrate over little victories. Great job girl, you cut that dressing off very well! You are awesome at putting lotion on her feet! Wow! You handed him that blade correctly! Look at that x-ray, you didn't cut the side of the foot off this time - that-a-girl! And I actually like having time away from the home. It's nice missing my family. I like giving up some home-front control, most of the time. I just wish I could work one day less.

I'll have more posts on work, how different it is being out in the world. But that's good for now. I'm going to take a Tylenol pm and some ibuprofen. And maybe eat. Then I'll snuggle with hubby on the sofa while we watch Leno. Thank goodness I have off tomorrow! Unfortunately, I have to stop in because I think I forgot to start a note on one of my patients this evening - oops!

Stinky Pits

Hubby and I, a few days ago, detected the unmistakable pit aroma emanating from Hurricane EE's underarms. We knew the time for this discovery had to be near. His cousin and friend are wearing deodorant now, and they are around his age.

I didn't know what EE's reaction would be. But when I told him that he was growing up and he must now wear deodorant and shower everyday, that boy smiled. When I told him he could pick out his own deodorant scent the next time we were at the grocery store, he became excited. I expected anger and embarrassment more than happiness!

This evening, I met Hubby and the kiddos at the grocery store for our big shopping trip. EE couldn't wait to get to the deodorant aisle! I showed him the brand his daddy uses, but Little Miss was on the job and immediately picked out Axe. She informed Hurricane that Axe is the kind of deodorant their cousin uses. So of course we went with Axe.

It's scent is called Essence.

Little Miss

Ahhhhh, isn't she so cute? I get to write about Little Miss now! It's her birthday month. Little Miss, our funny little girl!

I gave Hubby a positive pregnancy test for our 3 year anniversary. It was in the 18th week, during the ultrasound appointment, that we found out this little one was a girl. Now, I told myself that I didn't care what the sex of the baby was. If he/she ended up being a boy, I'd be very excited - EE would have a forever best friend, just like my two older brothers. I never realized how much I wanted a girl until they told me I was having one and I had to hide the weeping! I couldn't believe we were going to have a little girl!

Why did I have an ultrasound at 18 weeks? The doctor found some kind of blood spot in between the wall of my uterus and placenta during my first ultrasound appointment sometime around 12 wks. He told me that in most cases, this fluid would be re-absorbed into my system and nothing would come of it. Of course, I asked what would happen if this wasn't a normal case. He told me that I could possibly lose the baby.

So what did I do with that information while I waited for my next ultrasound appointment? Did I worry myself to pieces since the last pregnancy ended in a miscarriage? Sometimes. But mostly I just pushed the worst-case scenario aside. I tried to forget about. And being a mommy to Hurricane EE distracted me nicely.

The fluid re-absorbed.

I got to have another ultrasound sometime around 37 weeks due to my small belly circumference. We found out that the little thing was only in the 12th percentile and that I'd have to come back for another ultrasound at 39 weeks. And if they didn't like what they saw they'd induce me.

How did I feel during those two weeks while we waited? I worried I was starving my daughter. Was two weeks too long to wait? But, again, I pushed those thoughts aside as much as possible.

I never made it to that ultrasound appointment. Little Miss was born that day. 5 pounds, 12 ounces, 18 1/4 inches long. My little peanut. Such a sweet thing! I went in around 9pm the previous night and waited a whole shift, till morning, through very uncomfortable, unproductive contractions. I was induced once the morning shift came in. After 5 centimeters (I made it to 5 this time!), I requested an epidural. I love those things. It didn't take very long after that.

I absolutely loved my hospital stay - I loved getting to know my little girl, I loved our times alone together. Everything was so much easier the 2nd time around. She was a pro at nursing right from the start! And my pain was so much less.

We're still trying to figure out Little Miss. I can't write that she loves a particular sport. I can't write that she loves the academics. I can't write that she loves her rabbit. What I can write is a bit disturbing. She loves to know the intricacies of the human body, particularly when it is hurt or is sick. She peppered me with questions one late night trip to the pediatrician's. What is her infection? What is happening inside her body? How did she get it? What is the doctor going to do to get rid of it? How does that medicine work? How long will it take to work? She is very interested in anatomy and physiology. She has very detailed dreams which she can only recant the next morning. Those too can be disturbing. (you don't think taking a drill to EE's brain isn't disturbing?) But on the more normal side, she loves to color. She colors every square inch of the paper, always has. She make Hubby and I hundreds of pictures of which I have no idea what to do with except secretly trash most of them when she isn't looking. She also loves animal. Apparently she has a cute and cuddly side. She particularly loves baby animals.

Little Miss loves to snuggle. I used to carry her all around all the time when she was a baby. It was commented to me that perhaps I held her too much. But I couldn't help it! I loved to hold her! She still needs her snuggle time.

Little Miss will turn 7 years old this month. I can hardly believe it. For those of you who know Little Miss' name, let me tell you why we chose it. First of all, there were very few names Hubby and I could agree on. In my opinion, her name is a very joyous name, a hopeful name. It means birth, or birthday. I couldn't wait for this 3rd baby to have a birthday. And Little Miss lives up to her name. She is a joyous girl. She loves to laugh and have fun. She thinks everything and anybody was ment to entertain her. She typically has a twinkle in her eye. She can be very bashful, just like her big brother, but at home she is a teaser, a pickster, and she loves to laugh.

"Friendly" Family Game Night

We bought a ping pong table for a "family" gift this year, although I think the gift is mostly for me. I've been wanting a ping pong table for many years. Ping pong is in my blood (remember I used to sleep under one with my brothers and cousins at Thanksgiving?). But who knew the game would bring out the animal in my little brother? One night last week my family came over. And of course we had to play ping pong. My mom even played - and held her own! We played a friendly game of round robin - friendly until Thom decided to slam a shot instead of lobing one as is called for in round robin etiquette. Don't be fooled by his dramatic apology and fake remorse. Underneath Thom's fun and sweetness is a ping pong beast that he can't help but release.

We had a fun night enjoying each other's company and sharing many laughs. It would have been fully complete with Luke, Gretchen, & their kiddos, and Michelle.

Anybody want to come over for a quick game of ping pong?