Yes, I'm Still Alive

I knew it had been a loooong time since I'd blogged, but I had no idea it had been that long until my sister pointed out that it had been since September!

Between blogging, facebook, and scrapbooking I was spending way too much time sitting at this computer and neglecting more important things like spending time in God's word, spending time with my precious family and less fun things...like housework.

So, I stepped away from blogging and facebook completely. I needed to prioritize. I decided that these things too are important to me, so I'm now allowing myself a certain amount of time per week to enjoy them.

I have so much to catch up that it's a bit overwhelming. I'm starting here with this post. I know you've been wanting to see pictures of the house, so here ya' go. It still needs work, but this is where it stands right now.

Thought I'd start ya' off with a little Christmas cheer! :)
The living room. I love that wall of windows. I just need a nice window treatment to dress it.

The kitchen. I took this picture before we moved in. The lighting stinks. It was dark and rainy and it makes the cabinets look yellow, which they are not. They're really gorgeous.

A better idea of what they really look like.

No explanation needed.

I love my pantry door. I love the fact that I finally have a pantry!

The dining room, currently.

Again, before we moved in, in bad lighting. The walls really aren't pea green. They are green, but more like what you see in the picture above. I just wanted to show off the ceiling. :)

Half bath.

Master bedroom. It needs work. I have material to add to the curtains, and pictures to hang on the walls. I'll get there...eventually.

The master bath. Possibly my favorite room in the house. But, again, it needs work too. I need a window treatment for over the tub and some things to hang on the walls. One day, I'll find the time. Until then, it's functional. For the first time in my life, I enjoy showering as much as bathing.

Ahhhh...the closet. I can actually put all of my clothes out at once and have my shoes and purses in plain sight. Buck has matching shelving on his side too. It's perfection.

The boys' bath. In here I need to hang a few things on the walls and have the shower curtain monogrammed with their initials, and buy a bigger lamp. The towels look black in the photo, but they're chocolate brown.

My little No-Way Jose's room. It's so calming and peaceful. Perfect for my sweet baby boy.

I still have to work on the wall over his crib. I know what I'm going to do. It just has to wait until after the holidays.

And, B-bop's room. I love, love, love the striped wall! It turned out just how I pictured it in my head. I went with a sports themed room. It's the Jr. Varsity collection from Pottery Barn. Yes, it breaks my heart that he's actually big enough for a "big-boy bed".

This little basketball goal was a great buy! It's B's favorite thing in his room.

And, I had one more picture for you of the playroom, complete with a silly little boy making faces on the couch, but I somehow managed to delete it from the post, so I'll put it up later when I post the progress in the other rooms.

And, I just realized I don't have a picture of the outside now that it's not a dust bowl. That one will come later too.

San Diego, A House, And A Baby Who Doesn't Like Apples

I know it's been forever since I've posted, but I've been a little busy. Between my family, two kids, their doctors appointments (Brady has had strep and Noah an ear infection and a 6 month check up), traveling, and building a house, I don't have much time to blog...or bathe for that matter!

So, to save time, I thought I'd combine a few topics into one post to get ya' caught up on where we are.

First up, San Diego. We flew to San Diego 5 days after arriving in the states from Germany to visit Buck's family. His parents are both from San Diego and his grandparents still live there. The last time we were there, I was 6 weeks pregnant with Brady, so the great-grandparents hadn't seen either of the boys yet. It was a wonderful time! Of course, perfect weather and family always make for a good time, right?

In this photo: Buck's parents and siblings, (minus one sister who couldn't make it out) and his paternal grandparents, a.k.a, Granny and Grandpa.
Four generations of Carroll men; all of whom have the first name Allan and the initials, ABC. :)

Granny with the boys. And this is again Buck's family, but with his maternal grandparents, his aunt and two of her three kids.

The boys with Nana and Papa. Brady was in no mood for pictures this day!

Me with two of my beautiful sister-in-laws. :) (I decided to throw this one in since I rarely post a picture with me in it.) The House: It's coming along...slowly! I didn't realize how long it took to build a house (the lot was cleared in April!) or how involved a process it truly was. (Bless you dear mother for the months of work you did without me here to help!) We finally have stucco outside (which has been re-done since this picture was taken thanks to a composition problem) and painted walls inside. The doors, crown and baseboards were going in today, and cabinets are being delivered tomorrow. Eventually, we will have a driveway, and flooring put down, and be able to move in...eventually. The baby: I swear this kid has taken the term, "picky eater" to a whole other level. Remember this post. Well, the grains weren't agreeing with him. A few hours after eating the cereal (oatmeal too) he would vomit. Not the baby spit up kind, the projectile kind involving coughing and spitting. I took him off for a month and tried again at 6 months with the same result. His pediatrician told me some babies don't tolerate grains well and to just start him out on apples, bananas or pears. So I did. And he hates them. ALL of them! He makes the awful face (pictured below), gags and spits them all over me. So far he's hated apples, peas, bananas, squash and pears. I continue in my futile efforts, hoping that one day he'll choke down a bite or two and find something other than Mama's milk palatable. That's about it for now. Hopefully, I'll find time to post before October rolls around.

**Disclaimer: I know that these pictures are in need of editing, but I'm too tired and busy, (or maybe just too lazy) to edit them.**

One Breath At A Time

It's been a whirlwind lately.

I felt like I haven't had time to exhale.

We spent our last few months in Germany traveling, packing for the move and living out of suitcases. When we finally got back on U.S. soil, we had time to unpack, do some laundry and re-pack for a (wonderful) trip to San Diego.

Not that I would have changed any of it...I'm so thankful to have the memories of Cologne, The Netherlands, Normandy, Paris, Garmisch and Austria. And, it did my heart good to see our family in San Diego. We made some precious memories. But it's good to have time to just be...

To be home with family. Today I got to hold my two beautiful nephews and spend quality time with my sister and brother in law.

To be able to order sweet tea in restaurants. I'm a true southern girl and I so love my sweet tea. As much as I loved Europe, I truly missed being able to order sweet tea!

To be taking an active role in building our house. Until now, I've made all of my choices by looking at options on my computer screen. Now I can actually see it and feel it all coming together. It's finally real to me. I'm not just watching a dream come true, I'm taking steps to make it happen. It's tangible now.

To be able to rock my Noah to sleep. Tonight, for the first time since they packed up my rocking chair, I held my baby in my arms, sang him sweet lullabies and rocked him long after he was sound asleep. I forgot how sweet it was. I forgot how sweet he smelled and the way he lets out the softest little sighs when he's safe in my arms. The time is just going by too fast (he's already 6 months old), so to be able to hold him and turn off the world for a few minutes is like stealing a little bit of heaven.

To be sitting and watching Brady stomping ants, catching bugs and digging in the dirt. He loves to play outside (and much to my dismay, he loves bugs). I love to watch as he chases the birds and the heat flushes his pretty little face. I love to hear the sound of his laughter as the bugs "tickle" his arms.

To be here, on the couch, catching up on blogging and scrapbooking and unwinding with a good cup of hot tea.

I feel like for the first time in a long time that I don't have to hold my breath. I can relax and enjoy all of the blessing God has placed in my life. Of course, there's a million things I could name that await me in the morning, but for now, I'm just taking life one breath at a time.

To Everything A Season

I type this tonight in an almost empty house. Today, the movers came. They packed up and whisked away most of our belongings.

It's so bittersweet. Moving always is. God may call us to do this for another 23 years, but I don't think that will change. I feel like I'm leaving half of my world behind every time.

You get to a new place. You no know one, have no place to live, no bed to sleep on for a while, no pots to cook in and only a suitcase to live out of. But, you make friends fast. You make an empty house a home. You quickly learn where Wal-Mart, Target, the PX and Commissary are, and within the first week, you know the best restaurants in town. You put down roots and they grow fast and deep. You learn to not only survive in your new dwelling; you quickly begin to thrive. It's not just a place. It's home. It's where your memories are.

I have to admit, that as excited as I was to move to Germany, I was scared to death. I boarded a plane 31 weeks pregnant with our first child, just before Christmas, and flew across an ocean...to a place where the people didn't speak my language and where my family couldn't simply get in their car and drive a few hours to get to me if I needed them. I knew that my husband would be going to the field a week after we arrived and deploying 3 months after that. I felt more alone than I ever had in my life.

When those wheels left the ground, the tears started falling. I wanted my family. I wanted home...and I hadn't even left U.S. airspace yet.

Fast forward 10 hours and European soil appeared in my window. I still felt gut-wrenching sadness, but now it was mixed with a twinge of excitement. I walked off of that plane and into a new season of life.

It didn't take me long to fall in love with this place, just like all the others. We quickly made good friends, had great neighbors, and found a wonderful church home. I was just beginning to enjoy the culture (and unpack my household goods) and a beautiful little boy surprised us by coming a month early. Although I missed my family immensely, I was at home in this place that I have grown to love.

I love the culture, the opportunity for travel, the beauty of God's creation, the food, the romance, the alluring history of this land. I will miss everything about it.

My babies were born here. We brought them home, right here in the sleepy little town of Baumholder. For that reason alone, my heart will forever be tied to this place.

The good news is, the other half of my world is still waiting. Home. My real home. The place that no matter where I am is always in my heart. No matter where I go, I can't pretend that I've found something better than where I've been. It's who I am.

And I know that when I step off the plane next Friday, the smiling faces I'll see, the love I'll feel, will erase the sadness of my heart in leaving this place.

It's been a fast 3 years. Who knows, maybe one day God will lead us back to this place. If he does, I'll willingly go, but for now this beautiful season of our lives is nearing it's end. And as much as my heart is hanging on to this one, I look forward with joy to the one about to begin.

I leave this place with many wonderful memories. To those of you who have made them with us (you know who you are) we will greatly miss you. You have been our family for the last 3 years and you will always have a special place in my heart. Much love.

Until we meet again, my freinds...

The Love Of A Boy

It seems that with each passing day, my precious little boys do something else to capture my heart. It may be a huge gummy grin or sweet sound from Noah when he first sees me upon waking in the morning, or an unexpected hug or kiss from Brady. But, tonight, my B did something that will forever live in my most precious memories.

Buck was dressing him for bed after his bath. I walked into the room and when he saw me, he squealed with excitement. I walked up to his changing table, and he wrapped his little arms around me. He knew that it was time for bed.

He began humming a song to me as he patted my back and rocked me. Then he began to sing the words. It took me a second to figure out what he was singing. When I realized, tears began to roll down my cheeks. Buck stood there watching with tears in his eyes too.

From the time he was born, I have rocked him and sang the same songs to him, in the same order. After I put him in bed, I sing those songs to him. The first one I sing is one that my mother sang to me as a baby and young girl. She made up the words and the melody. I have never forgotten how comforting it was to be in her warm embrace, listening to the sweet sound of her voice, singing me to sleep with these words:

Buttons and bows,
And pretty blue eyes,
Sunshine and happy times,
Flowers growing wild,
I love my little [Brady],
I love my little [boy],
Always and forever,
My baby you will be.

My sweet little boy sang every word to me, just as I have to him every night now for 29 months. He patted my back, just as I have patted his little bottom each time. It was absolutely the most poignant moment I have ever shared with him. Perhaps, the most poignant moment of my now 30 years. I was stunned. Dumbfounded. Humbled. I have never felt more loved and adored. Never more aware of how my actions, my words, are absorbed and impact the lives of my children.

It was the perfect birthday gift. He couldn't have timed it better if he had tried.

The innocent love of a child, wrapped up in one sweet song.

As I put him in bed, I began to sing the song to him. This time, he sang along with me. As I began to sing the next song, "How Great Thou Art", he again matched me word for word.

As I lay there next to him, gazing at his precious face, listening to that sweet little voice, my heart was as full as it's ever been. I didn't want to leave him. I lingered as long as I could before the cries of another precious boy called me away.

What was this morning day that I didn't want to see come (as I realize that I'm 10 years from 40 and that they're coming faster than ever), turned out to be a day that I don't ever want to forget...all because of the love of a boy.

Home Sweet Home

We're moving back to the states in August. Buck will be an OC (observer controller, for you non-Army speaking friends) at Fort Polk. We will be there for at least 3 years. That's the longest we will have been in one place in the 6 years we've been married. So, we decided to build a house.

Actually, we're not building it since we're still in Germany, but my mom, who is THE most amazing, wonderful, beautiful woman in the entire world, is overseeing the project for us. Because of her, when we arrive in Louisiana, we will have a beautiful, brand new house to call home. It is already proving to be quite the project since we have to communicate via email or the telephone so we can choose all that will go inside...flooring, paint colors, countertops, cabinets, fixtures, hardware, etc., etc., etc....But, she is doing it all without complaint and out of love for us. How lucky are we?!?!

The lot was purchased some time ago, but it took us a quite a while to choose just the right floor plan. We finally found one that had everything we wanted and construction began last week.

I realize that these pictures probably won't look like much to you. But, to me, they are the making of a dream. Our dream. Our little piece of the American Dream.

When I look at that dirt I see a home that will be filled with family, friends, love and laughter. I see precious memories being made and milestones being met. I see the yard in which Brady will probably learn to ride his bike and in which Noah will learn to walk. I see the smile on my boys faces and hear their laughter as they run through the sprinkler; their little cheeks red from the hot summer sun. I think that of all of the things about this house, I'm looking forward to the yard the most. Brady so loves being outside, so it's been hard here in Germany with the long, hard winters and not having a fenced yard for him to run and play in. Now, in just a few short months, he'll have plenty of room to roam!

When I look at that slab of concrete, I see the patio on which there will be many backyard barbeques for the neighborhood and where many family dinners will be enjoyed. I see the kitchen where I'll sit at the table across from my Mom or Dad and enjoy their company over a cup of coffee. I see the rooms where Brady will sleep in his big bed for the first time and where Noah will sleep in his crib for the first time. I see the place that we will bring home our third child, God willing.

For me, this is a dream that I've had for a long time. But, with moving so often, I never knew when, or if it would come true. Now that I see it finally coming together, I realize that it was well worth the wait.

I Was Here

Today, as I was scrapbooking, I was listening to "I Was Here" by Lady Antebellum. I'm sure most of you have heard the song by now. In case you have not, here is bit of the lyrics ...

You will notice me

I'll be leaving my mark, like initials carved in an old oak tree

You wait and see

Maybe I'll write like Twain wrote

Maybe I'll paint like Van Gogh

Cure the common cold

I do not know, but I'm ready to start, because I know in my heart

I want to do something that matters

Say something different

Something that sets the whole world on it's ear

I want to do something better with the time I've been given

I want to touch a few hearts in this life

And leave nothing less than something that says I was here

There was a time that I felt lost. I was searching for my purpose, wondering why God put me on this earth. I spent my days and nights asking, praying, hoping I would find my passion ... or at least a way to feel that my life meant something to someone. A few years ago, maybe I would have heard this song and wondered what I would do to leave my mark on this world, but not anymore.

I do not need to write like Twain wrote, or paint like Van Gogh. Michaelangelo's got nothing on me.

Just look at those two little faces. They are my David, my Mona Lisa, my legacy. They are my mark on this world. Because of them I have done much more than just pass through this life. Even if no one else in this world remembers my name it does not matter, they will.

When I look into their precious faces this life becomes crystal clear. They are my reason. And long after I'm gone little pieces of my heart will still be wandering this world.

There's not a day that goes by that I do not praise God for the blessing of my boys. Being their mother is the greatest honor I could ever receive.

Help Wanted

I'll be the first to tell you that I'm stubborn. I refuse help even if I need it. Even if it would make my life easier...especially help from a man. I find that most of the time I don't need it and (usually) I don't want it. It irritates me that men think I can't carry a box by myself just because it nearly outweighs me, or that for some reason, my hands are too small to carry more than two bags of groceries at once. I am not one of those sissy chicks who expects a man to lay his perfectly good coat over a mud puddle just so my feet don't get wet...know what I mean?

I have managed a household and all that goes with it...cleaning, cooking, taking out the trash, bills, car trouble, oil changes, plumbing issues, sick kid, healthy kid, etc., etc. through 3 deployments and countless field time. I have, however, never done it with multiple kids, a trash bin that's nearly 50 yards away, and laundry that must be done in a basement...until now!

These last two weeks have heightened my appreciation for all that my wonderful husband does for us! After both kids and myself have been sick for days, requiring multiple doctors appointments, taking a newborn and toddler to the grocery store, doing laundry late at night or early in the morning in a dark basement, and having to plan a time to take out 5 bags of trash, to include 2 very heavy, very smelly bags of diapers, all because I can't leave two little kids alone in the house, I realize it's nice to have an extra set of hands around here.

I'm still not admitting that I NEED his help...I'm just sayin' that I appreciate it!

Meant To Be

I thought that this would be difficult...

That somehow we'd have to put in a lot of time, a lot of effort to make it work.

That it would be a BIG adjustment for our family, especially for Brady...

but I was so wrong.

We came home with our beautiful newborn son and everything fell right into place.

It's obvious that this is how it is supposed to be...

A family of 3 growing seamlessly into a family of 4...

Hearts with more than enough love to share with one more...

So full of pride and thankfulness for this gift...

A little boy who has found it in his heart to willingly accept and love his little brother...

Months of worry subsided...

Abundantly blessed by God's goodness, grace and love.

I'm a bit overwhelmed by these feelings. I thought that my heart, my life couldn't be any better, couldn't get any fuller. But once again, I've looked into the face of a miracle and been changed forever. Once again, I've been reminded of what I was put here to do and I feel more alive than ever.

Every day I open my eyes and thank God for the beautiful blessings he's given me in my family. As I look into each of their faces I know that right here, right now this life is right where I'm meant to be.

2 And Type A

What can I say...

He's my child.

Over the past few weeks we've noticed behavior that probably, usually, isn't exhibited by a two year old. B has definitely shown us some Type A personality tendencies. For example:

His obsession with things that are "broken" and his intense need to "fix" them. And I use the terms loosely.

It always happens with his food. He'll eat a piece a toast, or a banana or a piece of cheese down the middle and when it breaks in half, he gets very upset and refuses to eat it until one of us fixes it. He trys for several minutes to stick the two pieces back together and when that doesn't work, he brings it to me or Buck, nearly in tears and says, "Broken, Mommy. Fix it!". Once it's taken away and just one of the two pieces brought back, he (assuming we fixed it) is happy and resumes eating. We frequently go through the same scenario with chalk and crayons. Once they're "fixed", he resumes his art project.

The other day we were cleaning out closets to make room for Noah's things. We were almost finished with the last closet. Brady enters the room and begins his inspection of our work. He's scanning the bottom of the closet, presumably scouring for something to get into, when he stops cold in his tracks. He forcefully points his chubby little finger at something and launches into a babbling tirade in which neither of us has any clue what he's talking about. After a few minutes of me shaking my head and saying, "I know, B" (my standard answer when I have no clue), he grabs my hand and pulls me over to the closet. "BROKEN! FIX IT!". I still have no clue. "Nothing's broken, B. It's fine.". "BROKEN! FIX IT!". After repeating several times, he goes to the shoe rack and grabs Buck's boots, which are sitting in front of the shoe rack. "FIX IT!!", he shouts, this time with desperation in his little voice. I still don't get it. The boots are brand new...they're not broken. Finally, he picks one up and starts trying to shove it onto the shoe rack. Now I get it! He was upset because the boots were in front of the shoe rack and not on the rack like the other shoes. I help him sit the boots on top of the rack. He looks up at me with smiling blue eyes and says, "Thank you, Mommy" and walks away.

They don't use rods to hang drapes and curtains here in Germany. Instead you hang them using little clips suspended from a track. Often the fabric will slip loose from one of the clips.

We were playing in our bed a few days ago when suddenly Brady again forcefully points his finger toward the ceiling and shouts...you guessed it..."Broken!" Buck replies, "Nope the ceiling isn't broken. It's fine." Again, "Broken!" This time, I knew exactly what B was talking about. It had been driving me nuts for days, but I can't reach the track at the top of 11 foot ceilings, in order to fix it. One of the clips in the middle of the curtain had come loose. "You've got to kidding me.", Buck says as he looks at me in disbelief. "Try it.", I say. He gets up, puts the clip back on the curtain..."Thank you, Daddy!", says the smiling boy.

And finally, he organizes and groups things according to type.

We were putting something together (I can't remember what it was) that required the tool box. B loves tools, particularly screw drivers. (And why wouldn't he love tools...they fix things!) He took all of the screw drivers out of the box and after about 30 minutes of taking them over to the radiator, sticking them in top, pulling them out and laying them on the floor, we noticed something. He was lining them up according to handle type! All of the grey and yellow ones together, the red and black in their own group and the various handled ones individually in a neat little row.

It's almost scary.

I'll admit that I have OCD tendencies and that I'm totally Type A. Okay, maybe even A+ as Buck says, but I don't think I was that way at 2. I think mine started in elementary school. I can remember in first grade crying and asking my teacher to let me stay in at recess to re-do work that I had "messed-up". It wasn't good enough if I had one color mark outside the lines, if I had too many eraser marks...I'm still that way. I can't leave something alone until it's perfect. Even if that means having to do it 101 times. I hate clutter and things that don't have a place. I organize my "junk" drawers, my closet by color and type, and even my dishwasher. I clean the house and two days later feel that it's so dirty I can't breathe in here. I struggle with keeping the bookshelves perfectly in line and the toys that are stuck in a corner in the living room. (I really can't wait to move to get that play room!) I'm getting better about that, but some days, I just can't take it! I hate group projects or having to depend on someone to do something that my name is attached to. I can't delegate responsibility. I'm overly critical...especially of myself. It's a bit of a sickness really.

I hope for B's sake, that it's just a phase and he outgrows it. But, he's probably not going to. I think he's probably just genetically hard wired that way. I got it from my mom, who got it from her father. My sister is the same way.

As his mom, I will have to find ways to re-assure him that he doesn't have to be perfect...that I don't expect him to be perfect...just to be his best. I don't want his childhood to be stressful, just fun. I want him to enjoy making messes and not want to clean them up. I want him to think outside the box, to color outside the lines. I'm just not sure how to make him do it. After all, they learn from what you do, not what you say, and I don't know to change who God created me to be. I don't know how to relax and let the mess sit there.

And, after writing and reading this post, I realize that I have A LOT of work to do to get myself to that point. But, for the sanity of my children, I'm willing to put in the time.

(And if I've mispelled a bunch, and I'm sure I have, forgive me...my spell checker won't work! And in the spirit of not being so much of a perfectionist, I won't go back and re-read this at least 10 times to make sure it's perfect.)

For Your WHO DAT Super Bowl Party

I've just been beside myself lately!

I've been a Saints fan from day one. I got it honest...my Dad's dad (Paw) was a die hard fan! You know...the kind that is moody for days if they lost on Sunday, but whistling all week if they won! This moment is one that I've waited a LONG time for!

And I feel a little left out...

Like I can't be there to celebrate and share in the excitement...

I'm sure that being on the opposite side of the Atlantic has something to do with it!

If ever I were to fire up our big screen, host a Super Bowl party, dress the whole family in Saints jerseys and paint those little black game stripes under my eyes, this would be the time! And I can't!

I know, you're thinking, "Why can't you have a party?". "It's not like it's against German law, is it?". No, it's not. It's just that I'm pregnant...very pregnant. And after much thought, debate and grief, I've decided it's best if I don't. It would be really awkward and a bit rude to rush our guests out because my water broke and I had to get to a hospital...fast! And besides, I'm not sure I have the energy to get every thing together for a big bash.

But, I know some of you are bound to be planning parties, so I can live vicariously through you.

I found this great, easy and fun recipe over at Picky Palate and thought it would be perfect for the Super Bowl party I won't be having...but you might! It's easy and would make cleaning up after 20 people super easy! If you decide to try it out let me know how it went. And pass along some of your victory party pics! It'll make me feel more connected!

For me there's always next year, right? WHO DAT!!

It Used To Be Beautiful

This is what I've been looking at since the 2nd week of December!

The first 2 or 3 weeks it was nice...beautiful even...and then it never stopped!

It has snowed at least 2 days out of every week since the first snow in December.

I live in a snow globe...and I don't even like snow globes!

I think the reason I hate it so much is that on days like today, when the snow is blowing sideways and hasn't stopped pouring down since before I opened my eyes, the roads are horrible! They can't clear them fast enough.

For a woman who could go into labor any day now (and has already made two trips to the hospital for pre-term contractions) and the hospital is 40 minutes away, this is NOT a good thing. I worry that we might get out on those bad roads and get stranded. And as wonderful as my husband is, I do not want him delivering my baby in the back seat, or anywhere else for that matter!

So I sit here on my couch, looking out the window, biting my nails, hoping and praying that today (or a day like this) is not the day Noah decides to come.

Reluctant Mother

Multiple times each and every day, I'm on the couch (as I'm supposed to be at the moment), and Brady decides that he wants me off of the couch.

He walks up to me, grabs my finger, and says, "puuuuullll!", as he tries with all of his might to pull me off of the couch. If I don't get up as quickly as he thinks I should he then says, as he looks at me with the sweetest look I've ever seen, "Tum, Mommy!". So reluctantly, I come. And I follow as he guides me where ever it is that he wants me to go thinking that I wish he'd just let me be.

Today, as I was begrudgingly tagging along behind as he drug me to our bed, he kept turning around and looking up at me over his shoulder. I looked down at that little smiling face and those chubby little fingers wrapped around mine and realized that I shouldn't be so reluctant.

One day, sooner than I'd like, it won't be my hand that he's wanting to hold, or me that he'll want to go snuggle in bed with or just sit with him as he plays.

So, I'll go and follow just as long as he'll let me.

Insomnia

Oh, sweet sleep...Why do you continue to elude me?

At this point I should be sleeping as much as possible. In just a few short weeks, I won't be able to sleep through the night...even if I could.

I'm 33 1/2 weeks. If this pregnancy is anything like the last, I only have 3 weeks to sleep!!

Wait...I'm not very good with Math...maybe I miscalculated...(counting on my fingers)...

Nope. I'm right. 3 weeks! Holy Moly!

Brady came at 36 weeks. I'm praying that Noah holds out until at least 37. For his sake.

Not that Brady had any health problems, but he could have. We were blessed.

Knowing how little time I have left freaks me out just a little.

Now I won't sleep because I'll be making mental notes and lists of all of the things I've procrastinated and how I need to get crackin' just in case he does come early.

I need to pack our bags.

First, I need to buy diapers to put in his bag. I remember the ones they had at the hospital were way to big for Brady.

Then I need to pack his bag...

And mine...

And Buck's...

And Brady's. Can't forget B. He needs an overnight bag too this time!

We need to get the car seat installed.

And the Boppy washed...

And all of the other laundry piled up in Noah's room.

At least the furniture is together...

Although we have to make a few minor adjustments to the cradle, because the bedding didn't fit quite right and the bumper won't tie on, so that presents a problem. I can't simply leave it that way and hope that my child is still enough to not knock it out of place and suffocate himself.

I don't want to be in the same situation we were in with Brady.

After I finished straightening my hair and applying my makeup I was literally throwing things into a bag as Buck frantically tried to figure out how to install the car seat in the dark, 5 minutes before we left for the hospital.

Don't judge...he came a month early. I thought we had plenty of time!

As for the hair and makeup...

I walked into labor & delivery convinced that it was false labor and that in an hour or two I would be going back home. I wasn't trying for a home birth.

48 hours later we walked out of the hospital with a tiny 5 lb. little runt.

I was in the same clothes that I walked into the hospital wearing, because in my haste, I forgot to bring an extra set. Okay...and because I REALLY thought I'd be back in my bed that night. I only packed a bag because my husband insisted.

So, I suppose that, just in case, I should have things in place a bit early this time.

And, maybe, just maybe, being prepared will take a little worry off my mind and help me sleep.

It's Just Too Sweet

This isn't a very long post, but I just had to get it down so I don't ever forget.

Since B started trying to say his first words I've been working with him on saying, please, thank you and the yes and no ma'ams and sirs. I wanted to make sure that our kids had good manners. I was raised in the south, and that's just the way it goes there. I think it's a great thing to show respect, so I expect our kids to do as I was taught.

For months now, he's been asking, "Please" when he wants something and saying, "Thank You" when he is given something (or if he gives me something).

As you know, I often call him, B. When B hands me something or follows a directive, I'll follow up with a simple, "Thank You, B.".

Apparently, I've said it a lot.

Now, everytime my child hands me something or does something he's supposed to he follows up with, "Thank You, B!".

It just makes me chuckle every time!

A New Season

Every year at this time I always find myself saying the same thing...


"Where did the year go?"


This year I find that question more fitting than ever.

Is it just me, or does it seem that every year goes faster?

Brady will be 2 in 18 days and I can honestly say that the second year goes faster than the first.

I wish I could find a way to slow down the clock...to find a way to catch all of those precious memories I'm chasing.

I feel like I'll blink and he'll be waving goodbye as he walks into Kindergarten.

And as much as I can't wait to see my babies (I'm sure the time will go as fast with Noah) grow into precious little boys and amazing men, my heart breaks to think of that day.

But, the Bible tells us, "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to reap, and a time to sow; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war; and a time of peace." Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

So, for now, I'll cherish this beautiful season of our lives. And look forward to those seasons yet to come.

I'm not one to make New Year's Resolutions, but I do believe in setting life goals and taking steps to reach them.

As we come upon a new decade, there are things I would like to accomplish during this season...

I want to be a better follower of Christ. I want to spend more time each day in His word and His company.

I want to work on throwing off the chains that keep me from doing so...worry, fear, anxiety...

I want to be a better mother, a better wife, a better daughter, a better sister...more loving, more patient, more understanding, more giving.

I want to spend more time giving back...finding more ways to leave this world a better place for my babies and their babies.

And there are a few things I want to do just for me too...

I want to take a few photography classes so I can better preserve some of those precious memories of which I spoke.

I want to begin teaching fitness classes again.

I want to spend more time just being in the moment and enjoying where I am right now.

I hope that in saying goodbye to 2009 we can all look forward to a beautiful new season. And that in 2010 you find peace and contentment and joy in God's richest blessings.

Happy New Year!

Could Not Ask For More

One of B's favorite things to do is play and cuddle in our bed. Every day, he grabs me by the finger, says, "Come.", and drags me to our bed.

Today was no exception. But, once we got to the bed, he wasn't in a playful mood, but a cuddly mood. He just wanted his Mama as close as possible. And of course, I was in heaven.

He started stroking my cheeks, much like I do his. Then he wrapped both of his sweet little arms around my neck, called my name, pulled me as close as I could get and started playing with my hair.

As I was lying there, listening to his little heart beat, the words to the song, "Could Not Ask For More" kept running through my head...

Could Not Ask For More Than This Time Together,

Could Not Ask For More Than This Time With You,

Every Prayer I Had's Been Answered,

Every Dream I Had's Come True,

Right Here In This Moment,

Is Right Where I'm Meant To Be,

Here With You,

Here With Me,

I Could Not Ask For More Than The Love You Give Me,

Cause' It's All I've Waited For,

And I Could Not Ask For More

Lying there I realized that in this life I could not ask for more. I have the love of my husband, my beautiful son and the love of another on the way. It doesn't get much better than that.

The Challenge Of Keeping CHRIST In Christmas

From the time I was pregnant with Brady, Buck and I have been discussing how we would handle the Santa Clause issue when it arose with our children.

We were both on the fence for the simple reason that we didn't want our children de-bunking the Santa myth for other children. We think that we need to be sensitive to what other parents tell their children and that it's a family's decision as to how to handle the issue. We respect what other people teach their children.

We just knew that we VERY much wanted Christmas to be centered around the reason that we celebrate--the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

Don't get me wrong. We too enjoy many of the commercial aspects of Christmas! What adult or child doesn't love seeing brightly wrapped boxes under a beautifully decorated tree? And who doesn't love seeing the sparkle in a child's eyes when they look at a big, bright, glittery display of Christmas lights? And perhaps best of all, who doesn't love the smell of freshly baked goodies accompanied by a big cup of hot cocoa, in a cute candy cane striped mug, of course?

It just bothers us that so many children (and adults) spend an entire holiday season making list after list of their wants, and focusing on the things of this world that don't truly matter. We want our children to understand that life is just as much about giving as it is receiving. And, that the giving is far more rewarding and lasting.

I was discussing the issue with my friend Monica over dinner one night a few weeks back and Buck and I both love how their family handles the issue.

Their three (soon to be four:)) little ones get one small gift from "Santa". The other gifts under the tree are from Mama and Daddy.

Problem solved. Buck and I are like the idea for a few reasons...

One, and most importantly, Santa Clause and the gifts he brings doesn't become the central focus of Christmas. It makes it easy to incorporate the story of the birth of Jesus, and explain that we follow in the tradition that the Three Wise Men began over 2000 years ago when they brought gifts to honor their King.

Two, our children won't upset other children and their parents (and we won't get angry phone calls) because they informed them that Santa Clause doesn't exsist.

And three, our children will know that we are giving them gifts because we love and honor them, as we love and honor our Savior.

I also want us to find multiple ways throughout the holidays to teach our children the joys of giving.

Maybe by selecting a child to purchase a gift for from the Angel Tree (and using their own money to do so)...

Or by volunteering at a local coat drive...

Or a soup kitchen...

Or by inviting over a single soldier or two or ten for Christmas dinner who couldn't make it home to be with their families...

Jesus tell us in Matthew 25:40, "...Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to me."

After all, in a week or two, the novelty of those gifts under the tree will wear off, and they, like all the others, will end up in the bottom of the toy basket or in the back of a closet. However, the feeling of bringing joy to others will last in their hearts all year long.

And in the process, we will have taught our children that regardless of what the world may tell them, CHRIST is the one true reason we have to celebrate not only at Christmas time, but every day of the year!

Thankfulness

I love how this time of year things seem to slow down, just a bit, and allow us to take inventory of our lives. It seems that so many of us end up asking the question of ourselves, "What am I thankful for?", as if we actually have to stop and think hard for something to give thanks for.

For me the question is not, "For what am I thankful?", but rather "Why would I NOT be thankful?". God's blessings are poured over me every single day. There are too many wonderful, beautiful things in my life for me to NOT be thankful!

First and foremost, I am thankful for the love of Jesus Christ. Every day He covers me with His undeserved grace and mercy. I am thankful that that grace has carried me through a world that is not always kind.

I am thankful that every day I get to wake up next to my best friend. Not so long ago I was waking up to an empty, cold bed. God's provision brought my husband safely home, just 6 short months ago.

I am thankful for the smiling face of my beautiful, healthy, thriving son that greets me each day.

I am thankful for the joy that that little boy brings to our home.

I am thankful that God has chosen me to assist him in a miracle...the miracle of life. And not once, but twice.

I am thankful that for the last 25 weeks God has seen that my body stay strong to support the life growing inside of me.

I am thankful that Noah is strong and healthy and that I can feel him growing stronger every day.

I am thankful to have the love and support of my family. There are days when it is their encouraging words that get me through. It's as if they know how to reach across the miles and wrap me in their love.

I am thankful for the friends in my life...the ones here with me, the ones in the states and the one all the way in Korea (Yes, Mini, I mean you! You have no idea how much I miss you and our long, thoughtful walks!) Those friends at times, have become my family.

I am thankful that my husband and I have built a home of more than just brick and mortar. We have built a home on the rock of Christ. A home of love and patience, forgiveness and laughter.

I am thankful for each day that God grants me.

I know that life is not always beautiful. There are times of difficulty and pain, suffering and sorrow. But I know, that because I have the love of Christ, family and friends, I will ALWAYS have something for which to be thankful.

A Sad Realization

Last night, as Buck was perusing the Internet for a Christmas gift for his little brother, and practically drooling over the hunting knives he was trying to decide between, I came to a sad realization.

In a few short years, I won't be shopping for cute little toys, or adorable outfits, or cute gifts from Pottery Barn Kids to have personalized.

Nope. I have boys.

I'll be shopping for hunting equipment, video games, electronics, knives, and the latest from Bass Pro.

For some reason, those things just aren't as fun to look at, or to buy.

I suppose at some point I'll be wanting a little diva after all!