My thankful heart. . .

My heart is so full. I am going to give it a chance to overflow, if you don't mind. . . This year has brought us many blessings. Here is a short little list. . .

* I am thankful for the sweet life of my sister in love, Cecilia. I am thankful for the strength of spirit that God has graced her with. I am thankful that He allowed her to reach up and feel that knot hiding deep under her arm - a knot that even the nurses couldn't find until Cecilia raised her arm up just so and pointed it out to them. I know it was God who allowed Cecilia to find that lymphnode full of Cancer before it had a chance to spread to any other place in her body. I am thankful that even though chemo is rough and practically poisoning this friend I love so much, it is healing her. It is killing the cancer. And, she will walk away from this and grow old with my big brother who loves her so much - not to mention two beautiful little girls who need their sweet mama.

* I am thankful that home is not a physical building. Home is wherever Erik, me, and our children reside. We can be at home anywhere we are - even this little 2 bedroom rent house with ants, rolly pollies, and mold in the bathroom. Home is wherever God places us - as long as we are together, we are home.

* I am thankful for a precious husband who at this very moment has both our boys at a basketball game so that I can have the "night off." I am thankful that I am married to a man who is truly the most selfless human I have ever come across. I am thankful that he loves me so much more than I deserve. I am thankful that I have learned more about Christ's love through being married to him than I have any other way. He points me to Christ through his life every day, and for that I am eternally grateful.

* I am thankful for cute baby boys who grow into sweet little men. I am thankful for the two that God allows me to call my own. The fact that God chose to bless me with them is overwhelming, and I will never take it for granted. I am thankful for their joy which is contagious, for their hugs and kisses, and for the privilege it is to parent them.

* I am thankful for this amazing little life within me. I am thankful for the thought that God's own hand is at work in my womb knitting together a life.

* I am thankful for my little namesake born Nov. 4th in Orlando, FL. I haven't gotten to meet her yet, but I am so thankful that God has blessed our family with her. And, I am thankful for her sweet mama who I love dearly.

* I am thankful for my parents and Erik's parents. They are wonderful parents, always pointing us to Jesus. And, they are awesome grandparents!! I am thankful that my boys are so blessed to have 2 sets of grandparents who love them tremendously and pray for them daily.

* I am thankful for good, solid, loyal, sweet, trustworthy, and funny friends. I am thankful for the vast variety of types of friends that God has blessed me with over the years. They are a variety personalities, but they all show me Jesus - just in different lights. I love that.

* But, most of all I am thankful for another year to walk with Jesus. Another year on this journey. I am thankful that He is patient with me, never giving up on me. And, I am thankful that He loves me more than I can imagine.

* And, on a lighter note, I am thankful for coffee with Peppermint Mocha Creamer, Celestial Seasonings Candy Cane Lane Greeen Tea, and Popeye's Red Beans and Rice.

* Oh, and one more. . . I am thankful for the men who come to our house to work everyday. I am thankful for Mr. Cole and his smile that sets me at ease when I start to get frazzled (which happens almost daily). I am thankful for Homeboy or as Joshua calls him "Home-Boa." He is the best trimmer, excellent at finishing work, and is such a hardworker. I am even thankful for Flat and Gerald. Flat has a great smile, and today he showed up at work with a dead coyote in the back of his pick-up. He went hunting for deer, but returned with a coyote. I didn't ask. Gerald seems lonely, and I like to smile at him to see if I can get him to smile back. He, too, is a hard-worker. I am thankful for this little band of men that have become our friends through this endeavor.

Missing the way things used to be. . .

Ahhhh, the good old days when we were in our home - simply living a "normal" life.

I had a bit of break down yesterday. Just a little one. I sat down in the middle of the living room floor (at the rent house) and cried. This was not a good idea because it made my 21 month old cry, too. All I could think was, "I just want to go home. I miss Rain (our weimeraner) and our old calm life." So, I had to pull myself together, gather juice, snacks, a good DVD, my keys, my cell phone, and put the boys in the car for a little ride to clear my head. I called Jen and vented a little. Then, I got drive-thru dinner for the family. We ate and went to church.

Before church I attempted venting to my ever-optimistic husband. "It is so hard meeting with carpet, tile, and cabinet men while trying to contain 2 little ones. Not to mention, picking out light fixtures, paint colors, molding, etc. I feel like I am failing as a mom, etc." and on and on I vented to him. And, he just looked at me with a blank expression that said, "Of course it is hard. We knew it would be, but it'll be worth it. Just keep going. One more month, you can make it. No biggie. . ."

Uggh. I know he's right, but still. . .

And, as this long day came to a close, I got a magazine and began doing my homework - looking at mantles and shutters. I was still missing home and feeling just a bit sorry for myself.

And, this is when it happened.

I felt it.

Just barely a little something in my lower tummy.

Could it be?

After all, I am almost 16 weeks pregnant. I think it was. That little tickle reminded me that there is something alive in there. And, as vital as this renovation seems at present, something much more vital resides within me. I said a little prayer of thanks for this little life. And, the reminder that it is of good - no great - things to come.

Brotherly Love. . .

at its very finest was displayed on my living room floor last night. Oh, me. . .

The little guy to the left may look sweet, but don't be fooled!! He is quite dangerous. . .

When I found out that JCT was a boy, I promised myself that our home would not be a typical "boy" home. My boys would be under control and kind to one another. We would not have fighting and wild indians running and jumping on furniture.

I had one thing going for me. . . My oldest, the leader of my children, is sweet, loving, and, for the most part, very gentle. When we brought JCT home from the hospital, Joshua adored him, kissed him, patted him, loved on him. The kind of sweetness that warms a mother's heart to the very core. Somewhere along the line, Joshua may have hit JCT. I don't remember the incident, but if it did happen, I am certain that I nipped it in the bud. And, Joshua is quite compliant, so if he hit JCT, it most likely happened only once.

Well. . .that was very nice while it lasted. There was a first in our household last night - our first fight. And, it wasn't at all what I expected. We had just come home from church. Joshua had a small part in the Operation Christmas Child children's musical at church. He did great up on stage, and his mama was so proud. Erik had a deacon's meeting, so I brought the boys home from church by myself. I let them play alone in the living room while I went to the bathroom to wash my face. This all seemed very routine - until I turned the water off and heard some commotion coming from the the other room. So, I followed the noise. And, what did I find. . .

My 21 month old was straddling my 3 year old hitting him over and over in the face, hard.

Shock. Horror. In one instant my home had changed. I had not seen this side of JCT. He was quite angry. In a cloud of disbelief, I crossed the living room to rescue my 3 year old. JCT was still sitting on Joshua's stomach, and as I got closer, he stopped hitting Joshua for a second. But, before I could get to him, JCT grabbed Joshua's nose between his thumb and his pointer finger and pinched it as hard as he could. Ouch.

When I finally got to them (all of this was happening in slow motion - at least it felt that way), I pryed JCT off his brother, spanked his "hitting and pinching" hand, and sent him to time-out. Then, I helped Joshua up off the floor - only to find that he was bleeding. JCT, with all his hits, had burst his big brother's lip! So, I took Joshua to the bathroom and sat him on the counter. I put a cool rag on his lip and had a little talk with him.

It seems that Joshua was trying to put the Little People farm on top of JCT, and JCT didn't like that idea. . . obviously. I explained to Joshua that if JCT ever did this again he should get up off the floor. "You are bigger than he is. You were right to not hit him back. Hitting is wrong. But, baby, get up off the floor. You don't have to lay there and let him hurt you." Now, truth be told, Joshua never cried. And, to be quite honest, I think he enjoyed the whole thing - even getting hit. He certainly enjoyed watching his little brother get in trouble.

I had a little talk with JCT. Apologies and hugs were given and received. And, once again my house was in order, peace and love restored. After both boys were in bed, Erik called to let me know that he was on his way home. I gave him a play by play of the evening's events. This may or may not surprise you. . . he loved it, savoring every detail, asking a multitude of questions. The pride was quite evident in his voice. I believe his exact words were, "That is AWESOME!!! I've GOT to call my brother." I hung up the phone stunned not only by my husband's response, but I was still feeling a little shell-shocked by the events of the evening. I am just glad that it was JCT hitting Joshua instead of some other child. Because had it been any other little boy straddling and hitting my son in the face, mama bear would have come out in full force with great vengence (scary). Thankfully, as I watched my youngest son release his anger on my eldest, I did not forget who he is. I remembered that he is the adorable little boy who runs at me from across the room to give me a huge bear hug. He is the little guy who smiles brightly in his highchair while eating his banana like the rest of the world eats corn on the cob. I love him so much that I didn't freak out and unleash my mama bear vengence on him!

Another lesson for me. . . a wake up call in raising boys. . . they will be boys no matter what I do. Their aggressiveness is innate, God-given, and, though it must be channeled, it is not necessarily wrong. And, so this girly girl's journey in raising little boys and learning something new from them each day continues. . .

Taking a picture of Joshua's lip was his father's idea. I would prefer to forget the entire episode, but Erik insisted that I write this post and have a picture to go with it.

The pictures of them hugging. . . now that was my idea.

Somebody tagged me!!

I received my first ever tag today!! Momrn2 from My Quiet Corner (I'm sorry I don't know how to link - I need to learn :-) tagged me to list 9 weird things about myself. I love visiting My Quiet Corner, so I was very excited to be tagged by her!! So, here goes. . .

#1 I love to drink milk, organic 2% milk (the kind with the cute cow on it), with 2 ice cubes in it. There have to be exactly 2 ice cubes in order to keep my milk the correct temperature as I drink it. One is too few, and any more than 2 is much too much. 2 is perfect - for me anyway.

#2 When I go into a creepy and empty bathroom at a gas station or park, I have to look in all the stalls before I will actually go in one and shut the door. I have this odd fear that some crazy man is hiding in one of the stalls. I don't really know where that fear came from. . . weird, I know.

#3 I have to eat something sweet after every meal. Even if it is simply a peppermint or a chai latte, I cannot walk away from a meal without a leaving a sweet taste in my mouth to linger. . .

#4 Now I never do this one in public, and I actually have not done it since I had kids. It wouldn't exactly set the best example. But, the desire is still there. . . When I eat pizza, I like to dissect it. I take all the toppings off and set them to the side. Then, I take the top layer of bread off the crust and eat it, then I eat the bottom layer of crust, and lastly the toppings. Yum! That is how I like to eat pizza. It works best with deep dish (pan) pizza hut pizza.

#5 I LOVE to drink - all day. I drink coffee, water, tea, dr. pepper, green tea, etc. I have a drink in my hand at all times. Now for the weird part. . . I never actually finish a drink. Somehow a Dr. Pepper, once 3/4 of it is gone, just doesn't taste good to me anymore. I even throw out the last little bit of every cup of coffee I drink. At any given time, there are at least 5 drinks half to 3/4 empty waiting for me in my refridgerator. But, I never finish them, never.

#6 When I find out that I am pregnant, I begin praying that God will give me multiples. This is my third pregnancy, and there is still only one sweet baby in there. When I go to my first ultrasound, I always hold my breath as she puts the dealie (for lack of a better word) on my tummy - hoping that there will be more than one in there! Even this pregnancy, I already have 2 children, but I still hoped for twins!

#7 I don't like to shop for clothes. . . or shoes, for that matter. Oh, dear, did someone faint. Seriously, I don't. I never have. No explantation.

#8 I love being pregnant. If I didn't have vein problems, I would honestly love to be 2nd trimester pregnant for the rest of my life. No kidding! When I was pregnant with my first, I found out at my 37 week visit that I was 3 cm dialated. My doctor told me it would only be a matter of days. I cried the whole way home from the appointment. I wasn't ready to not be pregnant anymore. I wasn't ready to not feel him kicking inside me. I love being pregnant. That whole big belly thing is so fun!!!

#9 Sensitive is an understatement when it comes to me. I am SENSITIVE. I don't cry at movies, take for example Facing the Giants, I sob, sob, sob. Going to a sad movie with me can be a bit embarrasing. Sometimes, I even cry for a good while after the movie is over. I always like to discuss the movie afterward, and the tears keep flowing. . . If someone so much as mentions an abused child, or a parent who lost a child, etc., I'll lose it right there.

Daddy hears. . .

I often feel that my children teach me more about God than any preacher, teacher, or theologian ever could. They are my tiny walking examples of myself, a child of God. And, as a parent I am allowed to feel to some degree what my Father feels. I get to walk in His shoes, if you will. . . In a very small way, I get to feel how much He loves His children, to know the lengths that He would go to for them, to understand that kind of sacrificial love as best I can as a human being. The story that follows is just another way that God has used an everyday occurence to teach me something about Himself.

James Christofer (21 months) is sick. Awful. He has a sore throat and ulcers in his little mouth and on his throat. He can't even take a sip of water or a bite of bread without crying out in pain. My heart breaks. . . The only thing that has been able to make him smile over the past few days is a post by Renovating my Heart. Calissa did a post that was a series of 3 mini movies. The first is a baby panda bear sneezing. This is JCT's favorite. Over and over he says, "I wanna see the bear again. Bear again." So, we sit down and watch that silly baby panda sneeze and scare his mama over and over and over and again. Thanks for making my little boy smile, Calissa.

I digress. . . So, last night JCT wakes up (he is in a pack and play in our closet at the rent house). He cries and cries. So, my sweet, lovely, wonderful husband gets out of bed to go hold him for a minute. Immediately the crying stops. I hear Erik singing sweetly over him. Then, Erik lays him down. . . silence. . . he closes the closet door. . .crying begins again. . . So, he comes back to bed and sits down. I roll over making eye contact with him. We just look at eachother and listen. He continues to cry softly. But, then he does it. . . In the sweetest little voice you could ever imagine, he says, "My Daddy, my Daddy, come my Daddy." And, over and over again he repeats it with intermitent wimpers and cries. "Come, my Daddy, my Daddy, come." And, I smile because I know my husband. He is a softy when it comes to his boys. I even giggled a bit because I knew he couldn't resist the call. But, before Erik got up, he looked at me and very profoundly said, "You know what is amazing? That is what God hears when we cry out to Him. This is how He feels when He hears us cry out to Him." My expression turned thoughtful and tears began to fill my eyes as I pondered his words.

Yes, God does love us. His love is real, it hurts, it feels, He is not above that, He is that. He is love, and love hurts for the ones it loves. No one knows that better than a parent. He longs to come near us, to sing over us, to comfort and hold us. Isn't that beautiful and wonderful. Warms me to my toes.

What a wonderful reminder that when we cry out to God in our helpless state, in our dark night He hears us. And, not only does He hear our cry, but to the very core of His heart, He feels our cry. It penetrates. Our cry does not bounce off the ceiling as it sometimes feels. No, it penetrates the heart of a loving God, and He is moved. Thank You, Lord.

And, as you well know, Erik got out of bed, scooped our little man up, and then layed back down in our bed with JCT on His chest. And, I couldn't help staring at them. The light from the window shone down on them. There was little JCT resting peacefully on His Daddy's chest, rising and falling with each of His Daddy's breaths. And, something in me was moved as I watched them laying there. So, much love was displayed in that few minutes, and yet it is a mere shadow of the Real thing. Amazing Love.

A very sweet reunion. . .

I had the very great privilege of reuniting with one of my very best friends who until this past Thursday, I had not seen in 7 years!! Sarah and I (and our children) got to hang out for most of the day on Thursday. Isn't she cute??!! You would never know that she had only gotten one hour of sleep the night before (traveling). She seemed fresh as a daisy to me!

Sarah is a doll, and being around her made me miss her all the more!! She is unique, one of kind, absolutely precious. Her voice is so sweet, and for me hearing it brings back a ton of memories. A few months ago I got to eat lunch with Boomama's friend, Emma Kate. (So much fun!!) But, one of the first questions EK asked me was, "So, what is Sarah like? Tell me about her." I had no idea what to say. Sarah is unique. I guess the best word to describe her would be "cute" or "precious." In college the 2 phrases I heard her use over and over to me in the most endearing tone were: "Hi, sweet little friend." and "I love you to pieces." Oh, and to hear her tell a story. . . She would always have me on the edge of my seat as she recounted to me the details of her day. She could somehow make her walk to history class sound both exciting and funny. She is quite entertaining and exceedingly abundantly eloquent. Her vocabulary is extraordinary and cute - if a vocabulary can be cute - hers is. I love her. She has taken residence in a special place in my heart, and she will live there forever. And, as long as we are miles apart, I will miss her, miss her, miss her.

Is this picture not sweet, ya'll? Both of my sons absolutely adored baby Addie. This looks a little like love to me. . . (I just wish I had gotten a picture of James Christofer kissing Addie over and over again when we were saying goodbye.) And, let's just say that as I was leaving, some sort of agreement pertaining to the future of our children was made between Sarah and I - - and it was sealed with a hug.

I want to add a little something about Addie. . . I can't tell you how amazing it was for me to hold this child who I have so fervently prayed for. I got to hold her, kiss her, touch her soft hair, and run my finger over her already fading scar from open heart surgery. She is a miracle. She is beautiful and sweet, but she is strong, very strong. You can see it in her sweet little determined eyes. May God bless her and her sweet family. She is truly amazing, and I feel so blessed to know her. I love you, sweet Addie.

I felt like I had just seen Sarah yesterday. The seven years since we saw eachother last vanished into thin air the second that we started talking. It was as if no time had gone by at all - except for the fact that there were some wild monkeys running around!! Very, very fun - I highly recommend reunions like this. So, if you have a great friend that you haven't seen in oh, say 7 years, pay her a visit. You won't be sorry!!

Mommy is out. . .

and Daddy is in! What is up with that?? Who I ask you. . . Who stays home with them all day - looking after their every need? Who carried them for 9 months, then gave birth to them - feeling every contraction, pushing them out with her own strength. Yes, Erik stood at the end of the bed cheering me on, and yes, he did actually deliver them with his hands - but still - my job was slightly more difficult. . .

But, after all this both my boys are choosing Daddy right now. I had to listen to Joshua cry for several blocks last night because he wanted Daddy to drive him - not Mommy. (Erik was following us in his vehicle.) Then, when we got to the rent house, I didn't dare get Joshua out of his carseat - I knew better. I let his Daddy get him out. I went to James Christofer, my baby, and offered my arms as an alternative to his very confining carseat. His response - "NO, Daddy get me! Daddy get me! NO, Mommy." So, I put my tail between my legs, grabbed the diaper bag, and walked the lonely walk from the mini-van to the back door. Every step, I grumbled beneath my breath all of the sacrifices I make each day for these two boys - only to be cast aside at 5:30 when Daddy comes home. True martyrdom, or so it felt at the time.

Ohhhhh, I jest, a little. . . I am truly glad that my boys have a father who turns his complete attention to them when he comes home. A father who loves to wrestle, play, and cuddle with them. . . And, I am assuming that this is all normal, well, and good considering that they are males and their father is a male, too. I think I recall Dr. Dobson saying that this is the natural progression of things. We should want our boys to be drawn to their daddys. And, mine are, so all is well. I do, however wish that someone ( For some odd reason, the name Sarah just came to mind. . .) would write a glorious book on the role of mothers in raising boys. I truly find this all quite humurous, and I am very thankful that my boys love their sweet Daddy. And, I am even more thankful that they have a Daddy who sets a wonderful example of a godly man for them to follow.

But, I must add this. . . At bedtime last night, they both cried because they both wanted Mommy to hold them during prayers and singing. So, maybe I haven't fallen too far from glory. . .

I've got that feeling. . .

Today I have that "it just doesn't get any better than this" feeling. At present I am sitting at my computer with my feet up sipping coffee to the sound of rain on the roof. Does it get better than that? Days like this are a gift from God, and I am not one to take them for granted!! James Christofer is sleeping, and Joshua is playing quietly in his room (trains). So, here I sit soaking in the sound of Alli Rogers on my CD player mixed with the melody of the rain - pure peace for my soul.

Earlier today I took the boys for a walk at the park. I promised them if they let me walk 3 miles that I would let them play for a few minutes afterward - a win-win situation for all involved. As I walked the little path, I was overwhelmed. I love fall. No, I mean it, I really love fall. I love the leaves. There is nothing more beautiful to me. I have always loved fall. I remember (seriously, I do) walking down the street to my friend's house when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade. I remember listening to the leaves crunch under my feet as I walked, and I thought it was the most wonderful sound in the world. And, today I heard that sweet sound again. As we walked leaves fell like snow on our heads. How perfect is that! And, after our walk I watched my two boys chase eachother around the park. As I sat watching them, I was overwhelmed. Precious little guys playing in a fall wonderland. They tossed leaves on eachother - and me. :-) They made piles of leaves and pine-needles and jumped in them. It is times like this, moments like these, that I wish I could freeze time. I don't want to keep them from growing up, but I would like to be able to come back and visit these moments again one day. Okay, I am getting too sappy, sorry. There is just something about this day rain + fall foliage + coffee + sweet boys + (pregnancy hormones) = one sappy mommy.

Worth rejoicing over. . .

It occured to me today how very much children need to be rejoiced over. A few weeks ago I began to notice some changes in my sweet 3 year old son's attitude. His words have been more negative, his actions more aggressive, and his temper more easily ignited. Being a very analytical girl, I began contemplating all of this. Why was he acting this way? And, then last night it hit me. . .

I think it was when he began dancing like a madman to a song on a Peanuts video. He was doing some very interesting dance moves - something resembling the Roger Rabbit mixed with a little Michael Jackson moonwalking, add a little Elvis hip movement - and then every now and then a little Madonna like pose that he would hold for a few seconds - Vogue. My husband and I were in stitches on the floor, laughing until the tears flowed. And, Joshua relished it. He loved it. And, that is when it hit me. . .

I have been so busy with the house renovation, with various phone calls and errands. I have been getting babysitters alot lately. And, in doing all this, I have not taken the time to stop and rejoice over this son of mine, and he needs it. He needs to know that he is the apple of my eye. He needs to be marveled over because he is the child God gave me. And, no matter how busy life gets, I cannot take that for granted. They (our children) are worth rejoicing over - over and over again. And, it is my theory that sometimes when they are acting the worst (and it is not easy to rejoice over them) - this is when they need to be rejoiced over the most. They need to know that we (who represent to them their heavenly Father) love them no matter how they act or how poor their attitude is. Now don't get me wrong. . . they must be corrected, but in their discipline they must know how great our love for them is. They need to know, to feel, how we rejoice over them - just because they are who they are - not for any other reason, nothing they have done. Simply put, I realized that I just need to follow the example that my Father set for me and all will fall into place.

". . . He will rejoice over you with singing. . . " Zeph. 3:17

Lemonade

A few of you have asked about my sister-in-love. . . So, I thought I'd give a quick update. She had her second chemo treatment this past Tuesday. It has not been a breeze, but we knew it wouldn't. But, she is super resilient and has a wonderful, hopeful outlook. Cecilia has a way of taking lemons and making lemonade.

My brother shaved his head, too. So, for my birthday I received a card with a picture of the two of them - bald - with their tongues sticking out!! Joshua thinks this is the best picture in the world. He looks at it off and on all day. "Uncle Telly and Aunt Cece took their hair off, Mommy, how silly!" He loves it! Kelly and Cecilia are known for sending funny cards - this is by far not the first!

They continue to inspire and challenge me. I love them both so much. I thought this was a wonderful idea, so I thought I'd throw it out there. . . When Cecilia's hair began to fall out, she let her girls play hair-dresser on her. They took two pair of scissors, a few pictures, and made a memory and a large ice-cold pitcher of lemonade. . .

For My Mom. . .

who loves my hair shoulder length and lives far enough away that my hair will grow before she sees me. . . I promise, Mom, that it looks alot shorter in person than it does in this picture. It just touches my shoulders, really, it does just barely touch my shoulders. Anyway, this is how the story goes. . .

It was a very rainy, messy day so my hair was curly and frizzy and crazy as I drove to the salon. Ann straightened it with that wonderful Chi iron thingy. What a glorious invention! If only it had been around when I was in high school fighting with all my might to straighten my hair each morning before school. Only to walk outside and have that wonderful Southern humidity curl my hair right back up!

I digress. . . Ann made my hair Barbie doll straight with the Chi - making my hair look even longer. Then, she put my hair in 4 ponytails, measured them each, and gently cut each one above the rubber-band at the 10 inch mark (the 2 in the back were actually longer than 10 inches). We were both amazed at how long my hair still was after she cut the pony-tails. And, BOOM, in a matter of seconds, I went from the longest hair I have ever had in my life to shoulder length hair! So, Mom, here it is. The before and after shots. So, now after a year of pony-tails and braids, my hair has been down for 2 whole days !!!!

"Maybe this one will be a girl. . ."

My boys like to get up early. So, unless I am willing to arise at 5:00, I am not going to get quiet time before they wake up. And, I can assure you that 5:00 a.m. is not going to happen for me - at least not in this stage of my life. So, I have devised a plan. I let them watch a 30 minute video shortly after their father leaves for work. I pour a cup of coffee, push play on the VCR, and pull up a chair for me and Jesus at the kitchen table. It is sweet time.

Well, this morning as I am enjoying my coffee, I look over at my darling children watching Barney. Side by side, they sit on their little couch about 2 inches from the TV screen. Joshua leans over and gives James Christofer a sweet hug, and then, looks back at me saying, "Did you see that, Mommy?" And, I smile and watch them for a few minutes overwhelmed by the love I feel for them. And, I whisper in my heart to God, "I'd take 50 little boys, Lord, if You wanted to give them to me." (A slight exageration on my part - 50 - might be a bit too many. . .) But, I love my boys. And, I don't know what God's plans for our family are, but I will gladly take whatever He gives, with my arms open wide. . .

"Maybe this one will be a girl. . ." is the phrase I have heard about 60 billion times over the past 2 months as I have announced my pregnancy. I have even had a good friend offer to come over and rub her little girls clothes all over me in hopes that something might rub off. Now that tickled me a little bit!! :-) But, I guess what I am trying to say is that if this darling child is a boy, he will be rejoiced over just as much as our first boy was rejoiced over. As I look over at their sweet strawberry blond heads, my heart wells up with joy. Maybe this one will be a girl or maybe this one will be a boy. But, one thing is for certain. . . This one is a gift from a loving God to our family, a blessing, a little life, for me to hold, protect, love, and train with all that God has given me. And, that is the blessing of it all.

Under Construction. . .

I had no idea how undeniably emotional renovating our home would be!! The workers showed up at our home on Monday, September 25th, at 7:00 a.m. By 7:30 there was a huge pile of rubble in our front yard, and the sounds of destruction could be heard all over our neighborhood (horrible sounds - ripping, tearing, hammering, sawing, etc.). The home I have grown to love like no other I have ever lived in was being ripped to shreads. I literally felt that my heart would break. I could not escape the feeling in the pit of my stomach even after I drove miles from my home. I took the boys on a long car-ride that morning. I got a chai latte and called my favorite sounding board - my mom. I think I wept on the phone with her, certain we had made a huge mistake when we decided to renovate. I'd be telling a story if I said that was the only time I have had second thoughts. . .

The picture above was taken at noon on Monday. Mr. Cole's crew is undoubtedly a group of hardworking men. The destruction continued that day and the next, and the hole grew to the top of the roof line. The picture left is of our living room. For a day and a half, we had a lovely sky light in there. This room has since been completely gutted. The wall to the right has been torn down to open the kitchen to the living room, and the french doors are gone. A fireplace will replace the french doors, and there will be new wooden doors with large windows flanking the fireplace.




Now I just had to get a picture of this! This is what it looked like as we walked up our stairs that Monday evening. A beautiful view of trees greeted us as we topped the stairs. Now remember that this is the home I love. . . I felt sick at my stomach for the first week or so. But, I know we will love the finished product, and that is what keeps us going. . .








This was Joshua's room. It will now be our guest room. We are adding on a bathroom and walk-in closet so our guests will have the privacy of their own bathroom and an extra place to put a pack 'n play if they would like to separate their children.






The most fun part for me has been getting to know the men who work for Mr. Cole. They are a cute little fraternity - a group of men I would never have had the opportunity to meet had they not come to work in my home. They have wonderful names. Names like Stumpy, Flat, Homeboy ("Home" for short), and good old Gerald. Gerald is in his 60s, reeks of cigarette smoke, but is very sweet and hardworking. "Home" is Erik and I's personal favorite. He is also a fireman, a Christian, and the loving father of a very lucky little girl. Flat has strawberry blond hair and a wife with severe kidney problems and no medical insurance. More than once, I have come to our home exhausted only to find that they have "destroyed" yet another room. (We are literally gutting the house so each room is slowing being dismantled.) My usual response to the workers is, "Would you please stop tearing my house to pieces?" To which they laugh and respond with words of reassurance like. . . "We promise one day you'll come in, and it'll look better. We just gotta do the tearin' out first."

This is a picture of the house taken Tuesday evening. By Wednesday at lunch they had put the ceiling on, and we were in "the dry." I need to take some more pics. We now have our new roof on and the deck has been torn out. The porch on the back is longer, etc. Things keep changing. . . This week they are hanging sheet-rock!!! Yippee!! I am hoping that this will be a turning point. Maybe from now on things will start looking better instead of worse. . .

A Make-Over. . .

I still remember the first time I saw her. We were worn out after spending the entire day looking at houses to no avail. She was our last stop. I was feeling pretty hopeless by this point. Every other house we looked at that day just wasn't home. You know how you just know? Several of the houses were very nice, but they didn't feel like home. I was begininng to feel disappointed. I had such high hopes of finding "the perfect home for us." After all, we would most likely start our family in this home. . . But, disappointment left me the instant I saw her. A simple, humble home that beckoned us to enter. Before I opened the car door, my heart knew. . . we were home. She was so warm and inviting. And, I loved her. It was spring and the azaleas were in full bloom. We were taken with her. As we looked at the interior, we were only affirmed in our thinking. Although the decor (which consisted mostly of dead animals) was not our taste (not to mention the odd layout of the house and the pokey things on the ceiling), we felt at home inside her. After a long hard day, we were finally home.

I'll never forget the first night we spent in her. Our furniture was to be delivered the next day, so we slept cuddled in blankets on the floor of our new master bedroom. My mind was alive that night with dreams of the life that would happen in this new home of ours. We were so thankful, so overwelmingly thankful for her.

And, now five years and two children later, we are still here. Birthday parties, play-dates, and too many firsts to name have taken place under the shelter of her roof. We have loved her. We have loved the carpet to shreds, loved paint off the doors and walls, loved many linoleum tiles off the floor, loved a few too many stains on her white formica countertops, and we have outloved our living space. So, after much discussion and debate, we have decided to add-on and renovate our beloved home. For the next 4-6 months we will live in a small duplex across town. But, we will come home every day to check on her progress and to let the boys play in the yard.

Many of our friends don't understand why we don't just buy land and build a house. But, how could we when this is home. I trained for my marathon on these country roads that surround her. We brought two boucing baby boys home to her. Joshua's Orchard (a row of fruit trees that Erik planted the spring after Joshua was born) sits just to the left of her. She is our home, and we aren't ready to leave her.

The man who built our home just happens to live across the street. Mr. Cole (or Mr. Tole as Joshua calls him) has agreed to renovate our home for us. Joshua is constantly asking us, "When is Mr. Tole going to break our house? When is he just going to tear down our walls?" And, now we have an answer for him - Monday. Yes, Monday, he will begin the process which will take what will seem like forever to accomplish. But, one day he will finish her, and on that glorious day, I will put before and after pics in a post. So, until that time, my blogging may be sporadic. We will see how it goes. . .

All in all, we are excited about the changes. I am thankful that we are able to add-on to her and make her even more ours. . . But, I am even more thanful that when we pack up and move out of her on Sunday, we can know that it isn't for long. We will be back for many more years and many more memories. I know it is silly, but she really is a part of us. And, I am excited for her. After all, what girl doesn't love a good make-over every now and then. . .

Cutting a Deal with a 3 Year Old

I had just about had it with all the "Yeah"s and "Nope"s, so I felt compelled to cut a deal. Right or wrong I cut a deal with my 3 year old son. Bribery, Lisa Whelchel said it is okay to use it. In fact, she highly recommends it! So, here was our deal. . . For every "Yes Ma'm" or "No Ma'm," Joshua receives one M&M. Sounds simple enough, and at first it worked like a charm. But, then, he got a little shifty with it!!! First, he came up to me and said, "Tell me you love me." So, I quickly responded, "I love you, little man." To which he immediately came back with, "Yes Ma'm, you do love me." And, at dinner we heard comments like, "Yes, Ma'm these potatoes sure are good," (without a prompting question from me or his father). So, we had to explain that he would only get M&M's for saying "Yes Ma'm" in response to a question, etc. I have heard enough "Yes Ma'm"s in the last 24 hours to last a lifetime. . .

A true friend. . .

Quick Update: My sweet Sister-in-love, Cecilia, has had the surgery to test more lymphnodes and to place her port for chemo. She will now take 2-3 weeks to heal from surgery, and then she will begin 6 months of aggressive chemotherapy.

Oh, I cannot tell you how much I am learning watching her go through this trial! She is amazingly resilient and has the best attitude. Many, myself included, would likely take the diagnosis she has been given and throw a nice little pity party, maybe even a temper tantrum. I have not heard an ounce of this in her voice. How God is that! We were talking the other day about her coming to visit me in the spring to see my newborn baby. She paused for a minute and said, "But, Erin, I won't have hair then, and I will have to be in pictures." Then, there was another small pause, and I reminded her, "But, my baby won't have hair either, and that will make a great picture!" And, we both laughed hysterically! And, that has been the amazing attitude that God has graced her with throughout this trial. There is something to be said about the character of a person who can laugh amidst trials.

I have thought alot about friends as I have watched Cecilia go through this trial. Who would I want to go with me to my treatments or to pick out wigs? Cecilia has been richly blessed by God through a friend named Kathy. Kathy, Cecilia, and my mom went to pick out wigs yesterday. And, they turned what could have been a sad day into a very funny day!! They laughed and played and tried on wigs. Kathy would no doubt let Cecilia cry on her shoulder, but I'm not sure that she would let her cry long before the two of them would laugh. She is the kind of friend who lends strength in times of weakness and not pity, hope and not sorrowful tears. And, that is the kind of friend that I would want with me in a trial. I don't think I will need a friend who feels sorry for me. I can do that by myself. I need a friend who will pull me out of that pit and make me laugh, hard, until I can't breathe, until I have forgotten, even if it is only for a second, the trial that I am in.

Kathy did something so neat for Cecilia this week. I cried when my mom told me. She put a sign in Cecilia and Kelly's front yard. The sign says, "Celebrate Cecilia 2007" And, under the words are pictures from brochures of places Cecilia and Kathy can go and things that they can do together when Cecilia's treatments are over. In other words, Kathy's message is this, "Cecilia, look at these plans that I have for us next year. Look at all the fun things we will do. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I am going to walk with you through this dark tunnel, and at the end of the tunnel, I am going to dance with you in the bright sunshine!" And, that is a true friend. Not a friend who feels sorry for you, but a friend who says you can do this, keep your head up, this trial is only for a season. I love it! Thank You, Jesus for friends like Kathy, who love us through trials with hope, strength, and a good sense of humor!

September the 11th

Growing up I remember hearing adults over and over again discuss where they were when they heard that JFK had been shot. It was, indeed, a shock that changed the nation in just a matter of seconds. I believe that in the same way my generation will always desire to tell the story of where we were when the planes hit the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the sweet soil of Pennsylvania on September 11, 2001. A powerful day for us as a nation and as individuals. So many lives lost so quickly. . . An evil I don't think my mind will ever be able to wrap itself around. . . I hope I never understand that kind of evil. It was a tragedy without comparison. . .

When I woke up on September the 11th 2001, my mind was on one thing. That date has always been significant in my family, and this year it was especially significant. My father was turning 60 that day. I'll never forget the phone call from my mother when she explained to me what was happening. I turned on the TV only to see the second tower be hit by a large plane. And, it was at that moment that the numbness began. I'm not sure when it wore off. . . I was numb with fear with shock and horror. I think I had always assumed somehow that we as a nation were invinsible. And, here we were as a nation - afraid. What was going to happen next? the White House? Were they going to take down Air Force One? I knew that life would never be the same. It was as if, for me anyway, a new kind of evil had entered our peaceful society. We had always known there was evil out there, those who didn't like America, but we had somehow managed to keep our lives separate, safe, and secure. But, that day everything changed in a matter of a few hours. . .

I remember walking my dog with my husband that night. The night seemed frighteningly silent. As we walked along, my eyes were drawn to the dark beautiful sky filled with twinkling stars but completely void of the flashing lights of aircrafts. It made me realize how much a part of a normal night sky those flashing airplane lights are. I hadn't really noticed them until they were gone, and the night sky seemed lonely without them. When we went to bed that night, it was the first time I ever remember going to bed afraid. I couldn't sleep. I saw images of the twin towers in my head. What would happen during the night? Was it over? It was a long night full of uncertainty.

But, thankfully, fear was not the only emotion that stirred our souls that day. Selflessness and heroism reigned on this tragic day. Obviously Todd Beamer and flight 93 is the first to come to mind. I have always found it interesting and so very like God to allow their plane to crash into an open field killing no one on the ground. They could have landed in a city or a small town, but instead it was that sweet Pennsylvania pastureland that accepted the sacrifice of those brave men. Beautiful, truly selfless and beautiful. And, then, of course there are the heroes of New York. The brave firefighters and policemen who in doing their duties sacrificed so much. . . their own fears, sleep, comfort, and many sacrificed their lives. So, in as a much as it was a horribly sad day, it was also a day full of acts of rare selflessness that we don't often have the opportunity of witnessing. And, that was a bright shining light on a very dark day.

So, today, five years later, I sat in front of the TV and took it all in again. I felt the emotions of that day all over again. I am so thankful to relive it. I don't want to forget. Ever. As I watched my boys playing this morning, I thought of the day when I will share with them where I was on September 11, 2001. I will probably tell them the same story every year on Sept. 11th. And, they may tire of hearing it, but they will know what happened that day and the impression it made on me and our country. I will make sure of that.

Home to me. . .

I love this man with all my heart! I adore him, and that is a very good thing since I promised to live with him for as long as we both shall live! He is perfect - for me, anyway!! One minute he is cracking me up, and the next minute he is ready to sit down, look me straight in the eyes (this is very important to me :-), and have a very serious heart to heart talk about whatever I feel the urge to discuss. He listens to my ramblings. To be honest, I think he finds them rather amusing. And, even though I worry about virtually everything and he worries about absolutely nothing, he still, with great patience and love, listens to me and encourages me. (Huge run-on! Sorry, Sarah!) He is truly the most selfless person I have ever met. And, he takes care of me, good care of me, and I am so safe with him. My respect and adoration for him has only grown with each passing year. He still gives me butterflies. . .

I thought that I would share a poem I wrote for him for our 7th wedding anniversary. Sarah, again, have mercy on me. I am a nurse not a writer. . .

Home to Me

You are home to me,

My strong leader, my rock,

and my safe peaceful place,

where I love to be. . .

You are calm, steady, not easily shaken,

my true constant in this rocky world.

You are my passion, my laughter,

my joy, and my peace.

You are to me strength and gentleness,

confidence and humility.

Your eyes are soft with love,

Your voice tender with grace.

Your right hand is driven and hardworking,

Your left hand is generous and giving.

You are my close reflection of Christ,

Making Him real to me through the example of your life.

Your eyes are ever outside yourself,

always alert to the needs of those around you.

And, quick is your response to meet those needs.

You model selflessness and patience in everything you do.

And, when I am worried and full of fear,

it is with your whole heart you listen,

and with your embrace you comfort me.

You are all things good and true.

You are faithful and unchanging,

day after day and year after year.

How blessed am I to find my earthly refuge in your shadow.

You are my protection,

and in your arms I am treasured and secure.

My precious guide,

as we journey this life together,

it matters not where we live or what we do. . .

If you are beside me, then I am home.

You, my Love, are home to me,

My safe peaceful place,

I will never leave.

I love you, Erin

Sweet Baby James

Okay, so he's not really all that much of a baby anymore!! But, he is still my baby at least for the next 9 months, and really, he always will be. This is my little crowd pleaser! The word "shy" has never been used in the same sentence as the words "James Christofer." When we go places, he literally reaches for perfect strangers as if to say, "Please take me to a place far away and much more interesting than my mother's hip." He is all smiles and laughs. And, now that he has started singing - watch out!! He sings very loud, and well umm. . . a little off key!! But, he is adorable. . .

He is into everything!! EVERYTHING!! And, when we get on to him, he smiles and continues to do whatever he is doing!! He is quite a different little boy from his parent-pleasing brother! I am learning. And, that makes me all the more excited to see what his sweet new brother or sister will be like!! God is so amazingly creative.

Boy Mama

Hallalujah, Praise the Lord!! I got a picture to appear on my blog!!! As I have mentioned in a previous blog, I am NOT very computer savvy!! So, this is an amazing accomplishment for me!!

This picture is of my first born, my darling Joshua. I find myself calling him exactly that, "my Joshua." He is mine, and I adore him! This is the son who sang, "Applesauce, Applesauce where I first saw the light, and the burden of my heart rolled away." (Baby praise post) And, yes, this is the son who felt sorry for me because I do not have a "poe poe."

When I played house, as a little girl, I always had girl baby dolls. I guess I always assumed that I would one day have a house full of girls. I have always been a "girly girl." I have never played sports. I can run distance, but anything that requires an ounce of coordiantion is way out of my league. So, when we found out that our first born was going to be a boy, I had to wonder why God would choose to make me a "boy mama." I wouldn't know what to do with a boy!! After the ultrasound revealed that my baby had a "poe poe," I called my mom. I remember saying, "Mom, what will I do? There isn't a boy bone in my body." To which she quickly replied, "Yes there is. Actually there are around 200 boy bones in your body right now!!"

And, now a little over 3 years later, I wonder what I would do without this precious boy in my life!! I never imagined that I could love someone so deeply. He has changed the way I see myself. I now get dirty and sweaty nearly every afternoon. Without him I would never have known what it is like to dance in a mud puddle while the rain falls on my face. I would never have known how to tackle or shoot baskets, or play with tractors and trains!! We work very hard at our play!! And, I am learning so much about myself through this little boy! I am so thankful that God knows better than we do exactly what we need. Thank You, Lord, for knowing me better than I know myself. And, thank You for the blessing of my Joshua!