Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.....

We have entered into our days of sleepless nights, groggy mornings, and VERY LARGE cups of coffee. A baby has a way of changing everything.

She didn't sleep well the first night that she was home...and neither did anyone else. As a matter of fact, we were all pretty much going on having mere minutes of real sleep interspersed with nursing, napping, and diapers.

My husband brought me the baby in the middle of the night, having changed her diaper for the millionth time, and praying that I could offer the babe some comfort for her pitifully empty tummy. I was so tired by this point that I was starting to hallucinate. As he brought her over to me, I saw her little tiny cap fall off her little head, and thought that her WHOLE HEAD had fallen off and landed on the floor. My response was to start crying "Where is it?!?!?!" and start frantically searching the floor for her decapitated head.

Oy. I really need a nap. Immediately.

It's a girl!!!!!

It's been a while since I have posted, that is because I have been in the hospital witnessing one of God's greatest miracles.

The morning of the 17th, I went into the hospital to have a c-section. After we first checked in and were heading down the hall to our room, we spotted a familiar face. It was our pastor! I had mentioned to him the day before at church that we would be having the surgery, but had never dreamed that he would actually be there! It was wonderful....I don't think that I can ever put into words just how comforting and how well loved I felt at having him show up for the arrival of our newest addition.

When the time came for our surgery to begin, and the op nurse came to take me down to pre-op, the pastor stopped everything and asked for prayer. At that moment, God's peace came over my jittery self, and I knew that I was indeed, in His Hands. We picked up several other people that were going to be receiving other types of surgery that morning, and headed to the elevator. Further conformation that I was in the Father's Hands came right after the pre-op nurse hit the call button for the elevator.

My water broke.

Yep. I knew right then that my baby was going to be born, one way or the other in the next few hours. Someone ran to get a wheelchair, as water pooled into my shoes. My cute little brown shoes with the little bows on the top, are now ruined, by the way. Small price to pay for the little miracle that I now hold in my arms.

The surgery went well. I caught a small glance of my little angel over the curtain that separated my head from my abdomen, and then one tiny stroke of her cheek before she was whisked away to the nursery. 3 hours of recovery later, I was holding her in my arms.

And I cried. So tiny, so perfect. I got a glimpse of the face God that morning.....His purpose and the meaning of His unconditional love for me, made completely clear.

Little funny of the day....

We went out for Mexican food for dinner this evening (Yum!) I am so done with being pregnant, that maybe a huge chicken burrito would put me over the top and into labor. No such luck tonight. But I had to share a fast funny moment about my older daughter.

During our dinner, she turns to the occupants of our table and announces "I can sing the alphabet in a different languange!" So, of course, we encourage her to entertain us. She takes a deep breath, and launches into The ABC's in a high pitched, squeaky sound. When she finished, she said "That is the ABC's in mouse talk!" Of course, we all laugh.

A minute later, after she has cleared her mouth of tortilla chips, my daughter announces "I can also burp the alphabet!"

Mortified, I told her, "Please don't do it here, but tell me where you learned it?"

She looked at me, her big ol' smile on her face and replied "From YOU, Mama! No, wait! I am just joking!"

Oy!

Are the church pews getting smaller?

Standing up in the church during our traditional praise and worship time was a bit uncomfortable today. Every time I had to stand up, my pregnant tummy would hit the pew in front of me. There just wasn't enough room between the backs of my knees hitting the pew I was sitting on, and the pew in front of me.

The only comfortable positions while standing up in church today: either standing on my tip toes with my belly set on top of the pew, or turning my body to the side so that my neighbor thought that I was staring at her.

(sigh) Only one more week to go!

A SORE LOSER....

This morning, during our weekly co-op group for homeschoolers, my oldest daughter came running at me, tears streaming down her face, absolutely wailing.

Of course, my heart immediately broke for her, and started checking for whatever physical source of her pain could be. No broken limbs, no skinned knees, nothing could be found. And then I finally asked her what was wrong. She could barely get any words to come out of her mouth. I looked up and saw the parent that had been teaching my daughter's class standing in the doorway. I asked her what had happened....she responded that she would talk to me about it later but something happened in class that my daughter had a right to be upset about. And then she took off. And of course, this parent was not available to talk to for the rest of co-op. :(

So I asked my wailing child what had happened. And what she told me hurt my heart far worse than any physical injury that she could have on the outside. She told me that a boy in her class had cheated in every game that they had played, made fun of the younger children in the class, and had called my daughter names.....the most damaging of these names was : a loser.

Perhaps I may be sheltering my children too much, but one of the reasons that our family chose to homeschool was to avoid this particular type of behavior. We have tried very hard to teach our children the importance of playing fair, good sportsmanship, and respecting other people's feelings. What my own child was feeling today was the injustice of how sometimes this whole world works....no matter how good you are at something, there will always be someone better than you....and sometimes the way people obtain that stasis of being "the best" is by doing things unfairly. Cheating.

So, does that make my kid a loser? The lesson that I had to somehow get across to my hurting child was that winning isn't everything. Making the right choices in life is what it's about....following God's plan and living justly. Is that even something that you can teach a 6 year old? I know grown adults that don't understand this concept at all! I did the best I could today to talk her through what had happened...but the damage had already been done.

Now I am off to call this boy's mother.

Conversations with comedians....

I have really really funny children. They must get their comic routines from their father, because I don't think that I have even a tiny bit of funny bone in my body. Sure, I love to laugh, but I'm not generally the source of comic relief in this household. The only times I am ever the funny person is when I have done something dumb without even trying. Like the time I almost electrocuted my husband....He was trying to get a broken lightbulb unstuck with a pair of pliers...I accidentally turned on the light switch because the room was too dark for my husband to see what he was doing. We laugh about it now, but it wasn't very funny at the time.

Here are a few moments from my little ones that I wanted to share here....

Last week, my 2nd daughter comes to me and states "Mama, there are no horses in the desert."
Me: "Oh, there aren't?"
DD2: "No, there's no horses, so they ride cannibals."

I have watched my children imitate video game characters...you ever seen a 5 year old "buff" herself like a paladin, while she is riding a tricycle? Or create a masterpiece in water color, only to inform you that it's a murloc? (only people that have played World of Warcraft will find this funny)

DD1 sometimes graces the breakfast table dressed as her favorite character. One morning, it was Cinderella. I happened to be serving oatmeal for breakfast that morning. She scooped up a very very large bite and put it in her mouth. And then she picked that particular moment to sneeze. Not just a little sneeze, but the kind NASA uses to launch rockets into orbit. That sneeze had some power because Cinderella doused the table, chairs, me, herself, and anything in a 10 yard radius in Apples and Cinnamon Oatmeal. Her response: "Oh look, Cinder-oatmeal strikes again!"

Speaking of breakfast....We eat what the children call "Cream of Meat" instead of Cream of Wheat. We eat French Toes. Sometimes they request green eggs, scrambled. Other times, cereal is requested to be served with a fork, or a measuring spoon, heck, they have even asked to eat using a serving spoon....just to be different.

I love my job. I get to be the mama, and I get to live in a house full of hilarious people, and I get to laugh every single day. Sure, I have my moments where I do want to hang up the towel and trade places with almost any adult that gets to work outside of the home....but miss any of these precious moments? I don't think so.