Cutting Barbie's Hair

I had to laugh when I saw Barbie's hair in my bathroom's trash can. And be a bit proud and sentimental as well. Cutting Barbie's hair. It had to happen sometime, only I never thought it would. Little Miss' favorite past time is being a couch potato while watching TV and snuggling with her blankie. It's only been in the recent past months that she's actually started to use her imagination (and her countless barbies, my little ponies, and my littlest pet shop toys) and got up off the sofa to play in her room for a while. Yesterday, after school, she nearly sprinted up our long driveway. I thought she had to pee (she told me the day before she didn't pee at all during school), but no. When I finally reached our house (after a bit of huffing and puffing), I saw her curled up on the sofa with the TV on and her blankie held to her face. My sweet girl! She's such a cutie! It's hard to believe she's old enough to be in school all day.

But anyway, on with my boring story. Last night she wanted Ken in the bathtub with Ariel. I didn't know how to feel about that so I said no, Ken couldn't get wet. But Ken managed to accidentally fall into the bathtub just as I walked into the bathroom. I plucked Ken out immediately. What if Ken's kissing Barbie? Perhaps Ken will have to get kidnapped.

Some say cutting Barbie's hair is a right of passage (actually, I just made that up - nobody said that). As kids , all my friends cut their Barbie's hair. I never did. I thought Barbie's hair was beautiful just the way it was - who wouldn't want to have long flowing glowing hair? I certainly did! I thought my friends' hackjobs were amusing & a bit rebellious. So I laughed when I saw Little Miss was just like a normal girl. And I couldn't wait to see the Barbie! She definitely received a hackjob bob, but Little Miss was happy with it. She said she likes it like it is, that she wanted to give Barbie a hair cut like mine! Thank God Sista D has the gift and skills to cut my hair and in no way does it resemble Little Miss' Barbie's hair! But I didn't tell Little Miss that. I just smiled and said "Oh!" Like, "of course, it's just like my hair!" I then told her that she doesn't need to give any more haircuts (she also gave some of her ponies haircuts too).

Little Miss is growing up. She excitedly told us this evening that she and her friend were being chased by boys at recess. She said one of the boys sliced his throat with his finger at her. She can't wait for tomorrow! I'm now glad there's only one 20 minute recess.

Perhaps I shouldn't worry about her making friends at school. It's only been three days and already she's being chased by boys.

The Tank

I'm tempted to rename my dodge nitro. Instead of the silver bullet (named in honor of my green bullet previous), I should have named it, The Tank. I would include a picture of my car in this post but I don't know how to blur out the license plate and since this is a public site with many fans and readers ... you know.

For the second time (in two years) we were re-ended. This time we were all in the car and thankfully, nobody was hurt. The unfortunate person who ran into us was a young college woman - girl more like it. You should have seen her little car! In both cases where I've been hit, my protector vehicle totalled the guilty offender with very little damage to itself. We will have to get a new rear bumper which will only take a day to install (I'm a bit bummed, I wanted a rental car - perhaps a cute little ford focus or something), but that's it. Her poorly built import had to be towed away with it's whole front end smashed up accordion style. And can you believe her airbag didn't even go off? Let me just tell you that my hubby saved the lives of two pedestrians that day who were walking across the street to go to a yard sale. If we had not been there to take the blunt impact of her little red car ... I just shudder to think what would have happened to those poor people. I'm only too glad we had been of service to them that day. Unfortunately, they didn't find anything worthy of their taste at the yard sale and walked away empty handed. (I would have given them a thing or two).

The girl's mom was greatly impressed with the silver bullet. In fact, she is now considering buying one for herself.

As we pulled away (after about an hour sorting everything out with the police) from the crime - I mean accident - scene, Little Miss in a very irritated voice asked "Well how long are we going to travel with these scratches?" It is indeed humbling. And our appointment isn't for another couple of weeks. But we'll get a whole new bumper - again.

Oh Baby It's A New Day

*theme song to this post is from the Robby Seay Band called New Day

I guess I'm not like most moms, I don't cry when my kids go back to school. I don't wish for a longer summer. I actually get all giddy & happy when school time comes 'round. I find sanity in schedule and routine. I find sanity in a quiet house. I love cleaning when it doesn't get messed up the moment I move on to something else. Yes, this time of year holds promise and hope. And so I love it. And I don't cry, and I count down the days till it's here.

But part of my heart did rip out of my chest and travel with the kids this morning. I worried over their first day in a new school building. I'm concerned Little Miss will be scared and lonely because she doesn't know anybody in her class and she is not outgoing to say the least. And we forgot to pray together this morning.

But today's a new day. I will get back into the habit of my morning quiet times with the Lord. Of Chuck Swindol at 9:30, (making sure to avoid James Dobson at 9:00) . I sure did miss Chuck this summer! He really knows what I need to hear. Do you think that Jesus is like Chuck? I'd like to think so. The Jesus I conjure up in my head sure does need to be a lot more like Chuck.

And I love the cool temperature! I can't wait for the leaves to turn colors and to decorate with pumpkins and mums and scarecrows and drink hot apple cider! This evening is Hurricane's first flag football practice! I can't wait for football games! This is probably my favorite time year. At least at this time of year it's my favorite time year. Because I've had enough of hot weather and I need a change. Plus, my birthday is coming up and I can't wait to get presents.

It's a new day. I say, bring it on. I need a new day.

An Unhurried Grief

It's been raining off and on all day. The good kind of rain - a soaking, consistent, rhythmic rain. Rain that doesn't erode our driveway. The kind of rain the hummingbirds like. A reading, stay-in-bed kind of rain.

A mournful rain. The kind of rain that reminds me that God weeps too. And I have to wonder - what kind of day is it for my brother? So I pray for him, although I have no idea what to say to God.

Before I knew deep grief I never viewed this kind of rainy day as a mournful kind of day. But today I realize that pain invades the weather, because pain invades God's heart. And sometimes God has to cry too. Because He loves us so much and He knows that rift, that chasm, which separates the living from those that are asleep and the loneliness and anguish this creates.

I watched God grieve today. It was deep and consistent. Thorough in it's blanketed coverage. Yet somehow I knew I viewed this from an outsider's perspective. God was not grieving with me this time, God was grieving with somebody else. I knew this from inside my bones. This was an unhurried grief. An unhurried weeping. It faded in and faded out from the dark early morning hours to the late night hours.

An unhurried grief. A grief unto Himself. Of which He invited me to witness. I wish I had paid better attention. What a precious invitation.

Rain ~

so thorough and complete

consistant and straight forward

no pretense

rain like God's sorrow

pouring down

weeping with the ones

who weep

grieving and aching

releasing and taking.

Reeses

So far so good friends! She's kissed me! And I think she nibbled on me too. Here is Little Miss's post on Reeses in her own words:

she is cute. and she is soft. and i just got her. and she likes to play. and she plays in the litter box. she jumps like shes excited. shes a furball. and she likes to drink a lot. and eat a lot. and she's cute.

Bunny Attempt #2

Do you remember Kisses The Killer Rabbit? She was our pet rabbit last year for a couple months before we released her into Stump Woods. If you need to catch up on her story, please click HERE for a short post.

Well friends, today we got another rabbit! His/her (we're not sure yet) name is Reese's. She/he is a creamy white mini lop with a peanut butter color around her eyes and a stripe going down her back. She is much more cuter than Kisses The Killer Rabbit. And so far, this one is much nicer!

We had thought about going to Rutz Auction in Lancaster, buying a whole box full (they sell them by the boxes, not by bunny), and then put them all through a new TV reality game show: Survivor Bunny, Stump Woods. I'd video tape our interactions with the bunnies and each week I'd post the video. Then you, my faithful readers, would vote the most "unworthy" bunny out. Then we'd release it into Stump Woods (where the real survival story begins. hee hee hee, insert evil laugh now.) We'd have obstacle courses and litter training exercises and tricks they'd need to preform to compete against each other. Then, by the end of week 12, we'd vote on the most "worthy" bunny to be our bunny.

But Hubby didn't want even one bunny, much less 12. I'll post a picture of Reese's soon, I promise. I know you're just dying to see her!

The Timing Of Kids

*The theme song for this post is Creed's, With Arms Wide Open - #1 on my playlist.

Okay Leslie, here's the long answer (because I'm a wordy writer and can't keep it within the confines of the comment section) to your question in your post; It's Time To Grow.

This post is about when Hubby & I knew it was time to start growing our family of two. And for some reason, it's a tough post to write. I rewrote that last sentence multiples times, trying to form a sentence that flowed and sounded correct. But the fact is, Hubby and I didn't decide.

I walk into this post tenderly, fully knowing the range of emotions this could ignite. I've had friends who deeply desired to have children and for reasons known and unknown, their dream hasn't been fulfilled yet. I've had friends who had multiple miscarriages, I've had one who lost her baby at birth.

And on the flip side I've had friends who had babies despite the multiple contraceptive tools and preventative measures they took. Some planned each one and each one came as planned. Some didn't plan and weren't ready. Some just had to drink the water.

And all the stories in between! We each have our story, how we came to have kids, how we came to not have kids, how we came to stop trying, how we decided that we wouldn't even start. And there can be so much judgement in all the mix, and so much perceived judgement. This is truly a loaded topic.

But I want to write my story. Because it's something to celebrate! And I want everyone to know how fortunate I know I am to have two healthy beautiful kids.

After the 3rd or 4th positive test and one negative control test taken by hubby, we admitted to being pregnant. I went back to nursing school after the winter break with mixed emotions. I was so excited to be pregnant! But I was also scared. And I couldn't help but feel guilty and foolish. I was young, only 21. We were only married 8 months. And I had 3 more semesters of nursing school to go through yet. I went to my nursing advisor and told her I'd be dropping out, that I didn't want to miss a moment of my baby's new little life. She advised against it. What would happen if my husband dies? How would I support us? Missing the first year of your baby's life is easier than missing out on his older years, she told me. I've finally stopped having guilty nursing school dreams in which I try to go back to school to finish, but find I'm not smart enough and can't handle it. I wake up before I drop out again. The one word to sum up my guilt: failure. I cried a bit on my way back home from nursing school that day, leaving behind a dream and really good friends.

But the excitement soon returned, especially as we told hubby's parents and my grandparents. As it turned out, Grandpa and God were in cahoots together. Grandpa wanted to hold a great grandbaby, God wanted to save a few patient lives. So even though hubby and I were less than careful only a couple times, it was really Grandpa and God's fault.

I'd like to write about Hurricane EE's story, but that will have to wait. October was the month that this lifesaving great grandbaby was born, almost 9 years ago. And in October I'll tell you all about him.

After you have the 1st baby it's easier to figure out when to have that next one, at least for us it was. We wanted our kids to be close in age. They would have been 20 months a part. We got pregnant almost right away, just as planned. The due date was June 26, 2002. I so wanted a summer baby!

I've learned, since getting married, that things rarely go as planned. When I have my yearly exam with my midwife, the nurse always goes through the rundown, and for a few moments I'm caught in the emotion of that time when I lost the second baby. Three pregnancies resulting in two children. Depending on the nurse, sometimes that's said in a more sterilized clinical way.

We lost the baby in November. And for a person who can't stand waiting, it took me forever to get pregnant again. I couldn't understand it - why wasn't I getting pregnant? Was I doing something wrong? Was I heavy enough? Was something wrong with my thyroid levels? And I grieved. In reality it only took five or six months for a positive sign to truly appear (I took so many tests during those months, I would almost see a positive sign when really it was negative). Little Miss was desperately tried for, desperately wanted. And it didn't matter in the least that she would be due in winter. January she turns seven.

So we have our boy and we have our girl. Having another is not in my hubby's plans. And as time moves further a long, my dream of having three children becomes less and less a dream. I'm coming to the conclusion that starting all over again would indeed push me over the edge once and for all. I think God has other things planned for me, for us. And if it's God's design, perhaps in heaven I'll meet the one that I never got to hold. My summer baby.

All this to say, the control is really not in our hands. Not when it comes right down to it. Why did I get pregnant so easily that first and second time when in reality there are so many things to keep us women from getting pregnant - surely it is a miracle. And why was it so difficult the third time?

I can try to get my way, but in the end God get's his. And really, thank God for that.