A piece of my new writing project.

The following is a test of your enjoyment reading system..

I'm beginning to write again, and if you've read my first book "Of Virtue and Grace" you know that I have a bit of passion for it, and for Jesus.  However this is a completely different kind of writing, this one is fictional... I'm going to give you a portion of the first chapter here, and please keep in mind this is RAW UNEDITED and not complete or publication ready in any form, but I'd like some feedback.  Read it and just leave me a comment below to tell me if it is something you would want to read the rest of... or if you have questions about a character, or suggestions for me I'd love to hear them.

Chapter 1.

Ruth and Howard Ingham, the most dedicated pair of lovers that had ever graced God’s great planet earth, had lived so long with one another that they really couldn’t be separated.  Not a day went by that the two were not intimately involved in each other’s business.  It wasn’t always pretty, and they didn’t always agree, even on the important things, but they always worked together for the good of their marriage. 

The lessons that Ruth and Howard learned early in their marriage left such a valuable impression on their hearts that it bound them together in such a way as that no one could separate them.  Ruth had never been able to have children, she claimed that “God opened and closes the womb” and just simply trusted that the Lord would provide, should he ever feel the need, and at eighty years old the desire for her own flesh and blood children had long passed her.  Howard and Ruth had always wanted children, but their faith in the goodness of the Lord held them together, even when their greatest desires for children had wrestled with their hearts and tugged at their arms, the arms that held only each other.

Years of wondering if they’d ever have children had pulled them apart, but also brought them together in new, much deeper and more meaningful ways.  Ruth clung to the promises of the Lord in Isaiah 54, speaking his word over her life, praying that the tent strings of her heart could be enlarged and that she could reach out to all the motherless, and fatherless in her community. 

Howard had worked hard throughout their marriage to provide for Ruth, and to allow her to support the women that were able to give birth to their own offspring.  She found all sorts of women and children to help and to love on every week.  Her schedule often included meal preparation and house-keeping for homes that were not even their own, but she never let that get in the way of taking care of the home he provided.  Howard and Ruth were always suited well for one another.

Today however was different.  Instead of caring for women and children from the church or neighborhood, Ruth was taking care of Howard.  Howard had suffered a heart attack, just a minor one according to the doctor’s office, but serious enough that at age 83 there were questions about whether he’d be able to stay home or whether a nursing home might be a better place for the man she loved so dearly.  Ruth wouldn’t hear of Howard being in a home, she had energy and dedication enough for both of them, so instead she hired a nursing student to come once a day to check in on them and help them accomplish the things that in their age might be difficult to continue now that Howard was restricted in diet and exercise due to his health. 

Ruth explained to the temp agency that she didn’t need someone with a lot of experience and that a first-year student would be fine, all she really needed was someone to come and help her with the heavy lifting once in a while, particularly when Howard was feeling under the weather and wasn’t getting to and from places in the house as well as he once did.

The temp agency sent Annalise, an 18-year-old college freshman.  Annalise stood rather tall, Ruth guessed she was nearly six-foot, and though her hair was always pulled back in a ponytail and her uniform always clean and pressed, Annalise had a fire in her eyes that Ruth just hadn’t placed yet.

 It was Ruth’s favorite pastime to watch people and see if they’d let go of a secret or two and let her into their world, and if they did she found a way right into their hearts and dwelled there in a special place that only she would ever fit into.

Today, and Annalise were going to be no different.  Ruth was determined to find that sweet hiding place inside of Annalise, so as the college freshman drove her car up the driveway, Ruth poured the hot water she’d prepared into a teapot and placed it on a tray, and added some of her favorite tea flavors and cookies along-side the pretty little teacups she thought Annalise might like best. 

Annalise closed her car door and began the walk up the path toward the Ingham’s beautiful two story yellow gabled home and admired the flowers that had been carefully planted and weeded by Ruth herself, while inside Ruth set the tea tray on the little table near the chair she would soon welcome Annalise to sit in, and quickly moved a lap blanket to the back of the chair where she usually kept it on chilly early fall mornings like this one.  When Annalise climbed the three stairs leading to the front porch she paused only a moment to enjoy the aroma of flowers in hanging baskets and along the windows before proceeding toward the carved wood front door, but just as her hand reached the space where her knock would have planted itself to announce her arrival, Ruth opened the door, leaving Annalise to knock on the air where the door had been.

“Annalise!”  Ruth cheerfully called.  “I’ve been waiting for you, Howard has too, but he’s taking a nap just right now, so I wondered if you’d like to have some tea with me?” 

“Mrs. Ingham you are so sweet and thoughtful!  I’d love to have some tea with you!”  Annalise had never been fond of tea as a child, but just now that didn’t seem to matter, because Ruth was standing eagerly there, framed by the white painted doorway with an eager smile written in permanent marks across her face. 

“Child, don’t call me Mrs. Ingham, I’d love if we could become friends and you would call me Ruth!”  Annalise had heard Mrs. Ingham say this same thing at least two times prior, but still couldn’t bring herself to be so informal with her first clients.  Especially Ruth, because Ruth was the most distinguished and amazing woman she’d ever had the chance to get to know, even if their knowledge of each other was wholly due to Ruth’s husband’s illness.

It seemed to Annalise that Ruth was everything that she herself was not.  Where Ruth was established in years, Annalise was young and naïve.   Ruth had space for guests in her home, and Annalise had a tiny dorm room she shared with another girl.  Ruth was tidy and organized, Annalise struggled to clean up after herself.  Where Ruth was welcoming and gracious to everyone, Annalise struggled to feel as if she belonged anywhere well enough to be welcoming to anyone.

“Come in, sweet child, let’s have some of that tea, I’ve heated the water and set out a tray already.  Just this way.”  Ruth gently guided her guest into the living room and offered her a high-backed wing chair near the window where she could have enjoyed the view out the window, or the warm fire on the hearth.  Ruth’s gaze fell on Annalise in such a way as if she were saying ‘make yourself comfortable, stay as long as you like.’

“Oh Mrs. Ruth, I probably should get straight to work, what can I help you with while we wait for Mr. Ingham to wake up?”  Annalise pushed only slightly back at the offered chair, she didn’t want to seem as if she were taking advantage of the job and kindness of Mrs. Ingham and her husband.

“Well nothing to be done while that man rests, and we know he needs the rest, so you just sit here and do the best favor you could for me… just tell me about yourself.”  Ruth smiled and began to pour the steamy water into cups on the tea tray.  “Let’s start with what kind of tea you drink.  A lot can be said about a person based on the kind of tea they drink.  Are you a caffeinated tea drinker, a fruity tea drinker, or an herbal tea drinker?” Ruth’s eyes lit up at each suggestion of the kinds of tea that Annalise might choose.  It was a fun little game she liked to play with new guests.

“Hmm, well I don’t really know, I didn’t like tea very much as a child and I have not had many since then either.”  Annalise thought it out.  “I don’t think I need to be drinking caffeine, it makes me jittery.  What do you recommend?”  Annalise smiled and sank a little deeper in the offered chair, she hadn’t realized just how soft it was before, but it welcomed her to relax in the same ways that Mrs. Ruth did, gently, slowly, and with a power that she didn’t even care to resist.

“If you didn’t like it as a child then you’ll probably need some time to get used to it before you really enjoy it, I’ll start you off with something fruity, that should be alright for you this time… what do you think of peaches?”  Ruth slowly pulled a tea bag from her arrangement, it was labeled “peaches and crème”.  Annalise smiled and nodded her agreement to the flavor selection mentally telling herself that even if she didn’t like it she would endure it for the sake of such a sweet hostess.

When Ruth handed the cup over to Annalise she began to pick through the tea bags for her own tea cup.  Annalise quickly took the first sip of her tea, hoping that Ruth would be occupied enough to miss her reaction should she not care for the flavor.  Yet she was gently surprised with the aroma and the flavor of the tea, a gentle wash of warm water flavored slightly of peaches and milk washed down her throat and warmed her stomach.  She actually really enjoyed the sensation and the flavor alike. “Mrs. Ruth!  This is wonderful!  I had no idea tea could be so delicious!”

“Everything on God’s green earth can be that way, surprisingly lovely and easy to accept… but only some things are worth it.  Tea is worth it.” Ruth chirped with a hint of passion in her voice.

A noise from the other side of the room disturbed their reflection and called their attention.  Annalise immediately set her cut down and rushed to the aide of Howard Ingham, who had apparently woken from his afternoon nap and made his way to the living room. 

“Mr. Ingham, you should have called for us, we would have helped you out of your bed.”  Annalise gently scolded.

“I had a minor heart attack, I didn’t break a hip, child.”  Howard smiled and pinched Annalise’s cheek gently as if she really were a child, and she smiled sweetly back at him slightly embarrassed. 

“I know, but this is what I’m here for!  Not to drink tea, unfortunately, but to help you.”  Annalise cleared Mr. Ingham’s magazine from his chair and pulled up his foot rest.  “would you like a lap blanket, sir?”

“No, if anyone needs one of those it’ll be my wife, she’s the one whose always cold.”  Mr. Ingham reached out a freckled hand toward his wife and partner in crime, and she readily gripped it with a smile and a look of satisfaction on her face.

“He’s right, I’m always cold.  Poor circulation they say, I say I’m just plain cold, always have been.”  Ruth’s eyes never left Howard, even though it was clear she was talking to Annalise, who had been situating her chair closer to Mr. Ingham’s side so she could check his vitals.

The house fell silent as Annalise pumped air into the blood pressure cuff she had attached to Mr. Ingham’s arm.  She listened closely and watched the seconds slip by on her wristwatch.  When she was finished she looked happily, nearly dreamily at Mr. Ingham.  “You’re blood pressure seems to be within normal today.  Have you been listening to Dr.’s advice in your diet?”

A gentle chuckle landed in Annalise’s ears.  “I have a grand appetite, so does my dear wife, and nothing beats the salads this woman makes!  However, I just don’t think I can live off from so little every day… I’m desperate, I need more sustenance, tell that Dr. I need more meat! Howard chuckled and leaned toward Annalise secretively “And CAKE!”

Annalise smiled and sat back in her chair, “well it sounds like your wife has been taking good care of you Mr. Ingham!  You should be so lucky, you probably don’t deserve her!” Winking at Howard, Annalise packed her blood pressure cuff away and stood.  “Mrs. Ingham, would you like me to take the bedsheets to the wash and replace them?” 

“Ruth, dear, call me Ruth, I insist!”  Ruth smiled back at her, “and yes honey, that would be wonderful.  I’ll just come along and see if there is anything this old lady can do to help.” 

“Alright, I suppose I can call you Ruth, it just feels so informal.”  Annalise looked around for inspiration but found none and barreled through with the rest of her thought, “you are so refined and gentile, I don’t want to be disrespectful by being too familiar.”

Ruth only laughed, a light chuckle that reminded Annalise of tinkling bells, but then the laugh grew and soon she was walking toward the bedroom, hand to her stomach laughing.  “Oh honey, I’m not gentile or refined dear, I’m just old, and you are not disrespectful if you are doing what I asked of you.”

While the women fussed with the bedsheets Howard opened his newspaper and began to read, he didn’t even realize he fell asleep until Annalise and Ruth had returned to the room giggling like school girls.  It always amazed him that his wife could make friends with strangers so quickly.  He always struggled with acquaintances, but had made a few lasting and deep connections throughout his life and was happy with them, Ruth however was not at all like that. People opened up to her almost immediately.  Maybe it was her beautifully caring heart, maybe it was her smile, maybe it was the fact that it was never an act with her, she was genuine all the way through.

“Annalise, I have something for you, but I’d like to send it in the mail, is that ok?  Could you write down your mailing address for me so I can send it?”  Ruth was asking the home-help aide the same question she would ask every new friend, and Howard smiled knowing that he hadn’t messed up her life enough to change this tradition for her.  Annalise jotted down her address on the provided paper and gathered her things.

“I’ve enjoyed this visit, I’m certain I have no idea what you are going to send me, but I’m not scared in the least.” Annalise smiled as she turned the doorknob to leave.

“Oh, I certainly hope you wouldn’t be frightened!”  Ruth was gravely serious about this tradition and wouldn’t want anyone to be frightened of her monthly invitations. “and I hope it arrives in the mail quickly for you.”

Annalise stepped out into the sunshine filled front porch and breathed in the smell of Ruth’s flowers, smiled once more at Mrs. Ingham and turned to leave.  Ruth gently guided the door closed and turned to Howard who was watching her from across the room in in his reclining chair.

“How many does that make it now, Ruth?”  He questioned her about this with every new guest she invited over.

If Ruth were young enough she would have danced a little victory dance right there, but she didn’t, instead she raised her arms in triumphant fists to heaven and closed her teary eyes “Thank you Jesus, Thank you for bringing us Annalise, and thank you for putting her in our path so that we might share your wonderful love with her!”  She lowered her fists partially, opened her eyes and looked straight at Howard “If she comes, then that will be twelve!”

For the last 2 years Ruth had been having morning tea on Saturdays once a month with women she met around town, in church, the grocery store, or any other place, each woman received a hand-written invitation every month to join the rest of them for tea in the garden behind the house. 

I'm BACK!!!

This time, I promise I'm not going to whine about anything... I mean it is just not fair if you have to listen to all the bad parts and never get a glimpse of all the great parts!

Here it is, the topic you are just dying to hear ANOTHER person post about!  The ECLIPSE!
Yeah I know you are thinking "we've heard ALL the stories lady, why submit us to that same thing all over again/plus you didn't even see a total eclipse, you live in the wrong area."

BUT  you have not seen how incredibly adorable my kids and my best friend's kids are, and I've got pictures for you!

So here's the story, I thought briefly about taking the lovely kiddos down to the Gardens downtown to check out the solar power of the sun and moon pooled together, and then I remembered I have FOUR of them, and watching the sun in a strange and highly crouded place just didn't sound like a lot of fun to me, so I opted to build solar viewers from home... of course this meant no one would look at the ACTUAL sun.. but what would the kids care right?
I don't know, my kids were COUNTING DOWN the days till the Moon covered the sun, and repeating EVERYTHING they heard on the radio about the upcoming event, even though I heard it at the same time they did, "MOM DID YOU HEAR......" "yes, yes I did, I'm sitting right here."

So solar eclipse day was upon us, we started it out by cutting up a pizza box, some tin foil and poking holes with our super duper home school single hole punch in said tin foil and taping it to the pizza box projectors... I'm a rock star with spur of the moment projects... maybe, sometimes.

Then we continued to proceed with our school day as normal... checking occassionally through the window to see if we were in fact missing anything with the sun.  We didn't.

After most of the school work was complete I asked Patrick to go out and move our patio table which no longer resides on our patio, but in a forest of table high grass, to an area where the children could actually eat off from the surface of it, then made lunch, sandwiches, chex mix and carrots with chocolate chip cookies for desert, and Kool-aide for drinks, and Patrick even set up the gazebo to keep us all cool in the heat of our Oklahoma day.

As we ate our meals and drank kool-aide we often checked the progress of the sun in our pizza box projectors, and the kids played in the kiddie pool, the day got cooler and cooler and less of the kids were even interested in the pool, but they were incredibly interested by what they could and were doing with their shadows.  lacing their fingers together to see the shadow of the moon over the sun, playing with the projectors, and Patrick even poked a bunch of holes in a piece of scrap paper which ended up looking like hundreds of tiny moon shaped suns dancing on the patio.

At some point I realized that while it hurt my eyes to try to photograph the impossible to photograph sun, it didn't hurt as bad to look at the sun through my camera lens as it would if I looked straight at it... so I got the brillant idea (don't remember who suggested it, Neva?  Maybe Patrick) to use a pair of sunglasses over the lens, this didn't help a lot, but it did help, so then we layered two pairs of glasses over the lens, then I could actually see it with my eye, I still couldn't get the picture though.

Then Patrick found two more pairs of sunglasses and we layered all four together, between the three of us adults trying this just to look at the sun we did get one or two images that actually showed the shape of the sun behind the moon, which was awesome, but the picture is anything but high quality, and I can't say I took it, Neva or Patrick took it when they had their turn to look.

After playing with the lens of my camera this way we eventually decided to put all four pairs of sun glasses on at once and look directly at the sun... and guess what!?!  It actually worked.  Sure it was funny looking, but it worked!  All the kids got to try it, and we captured some fun photos of the time we spent together.

Patrick, and I don't have lots of fun moment as a family right now, so it was extra special to me, the lack of stress going on was wonderful and uplifting, and the intimacy of having fun together is rare but liberating.  Neva and her children got to share in all of this with us, and it was just a really good time, all the kids got to see the eclipse, and we all enjoyed the day!

Here are some pictures we were able to capture.  I hope you enjoy them as much as we did.

 

 

6 months of nothing and everything

I've not been really vocal about anything lately, I'm sitting in disbelief that this is what my life looks like at 33 years old.

In Feb. of 2016 Patrick and I were expecting another baby and bought what was meant to be our forever home... you know I feel a bit like a kid in fostercare, or a puppy at the pound when I refer to my house as a forever home, but the truth is, I just want to settle in somewhere.

I'll be honest I didn't even hang all my pictures, always waiting for something, at first I was waiting to find the perfect entertainment center to put in the living room, Patrick was going to make it for me, and it was going to be awesome... but then a year after moving in, when we were in the middle of figuring out how to raise chickens and I was busting it trying to budget for a fence for the goats we would be bringing home in a month or less, BAM my world was shaken up.

Patrick walked in the house with this look on his face, I knew before he said it.  I've seen that look before, I've seen it a lot of times actually.  He'd lost his job.  This one lasted 2 years, but THANKS to the avionics world it was gone now.  The plan had been that if this happened again Patrick would find work locally and we'd stay here... but as soon as he was laid off the talk began... are we moving?  Well we sure as hell were not getting goats.

Now it's been 6 months.  We are preparing to celebrate our youngest child's 1st birthday... the unemployment ran out, and being a doula full time is like a distant dream, I don't know what happened there, but I felt God calling me to use my talents elsewhere, I'm still doulaing for those that hire me, but I'll be honest I have one client, and she may not be able to pay... (if you are reading this friend you know my heart and it is TOTALLY ok!  We'll work it out, and I'm here for you!).

Patrick had a phone interview with this really incredible looking company, I was excited, but guess what?  That didn't happen!

So what now?  I don't know. I've been walking around trusting God has been leading my steps, but the stress of the not knowing is really getting to me.  I can't handle it much longer.

Our options are vast, but honestly I don't like any of them.  Here in Oklahoma he could find work, but it wouldn't pay nearly what he was being paid.  OR we could move and he could do the work he's been doing that he hates, and we could be literally anywhere in the country.  OR He could get an entirely different job using this company that totally fixed his resume and got him the phone interview with the company that just refused him (for lack of experience) but again that would most likely mean that we have to move AGAIN... and we've told them we'd only like to either work here in Oklahoma (no job with them available currently) or near Battle Creek Michigan (near my family) and they have one other option in that area, so we will see what happens from here.

Oh and guess what?   He put in for a job in Ardmore, OK, so that means that if he were to get it he would be traveling every week to work and seeing us on the weekends.  Yup, that's the life I'm living right now, I am either faced with seeing my husband every day, all the time (which would be wonderful if he were present when he is here, but because he's been upset about his job track record we actually don't spend much time being a family unit), or I can see him only on the weekends.  But the good/bad news is, that job is only a temp job anyway, so it won't last.  YAY it won't last, MAN it won't last!

And I just want to say one more thing.  If you are just checking out the many jobs available and not really seriously looking for work, then using a job placement agency seems like a great thing, but if you really truly need work, and everyone is hiring through these companies, there are things you need to know.  1. They will only put you in for one job at a time, and if you are desperate for work, they don't care, because it is their reputation that is damaged if more than one company wants to hire you and they put you in for more than one job, because ultimately they won't be able to place you with two or more companies.  2. They don't like it if you work with more than one agency and you risk making them mad (which means they make you either a last priority or not a priority at all) if you let them know you are working with another company to find work.  3. If you are living on unemployment and it is running out and you don't have a job yet because it takes one to two weeks to find out if you got one job, you probably are not going to get hired quickly, so don't hedge your bets and wait any longer than you have to, cause it is rough, and they don't care about you, they care about money.  It may be their job to get you a job, but they don't have to do it quickly, they have to impress the companies they put you in to work for, and sorry, you are just another of the many people they are finding employment for.

I'm sorry for using this blog to rant about the life I live.  I've been praying, praying so hard for all the things that are going on here, but in the end, I know it is all in God's timing.  And HIS plan.... which ultimately looks nothing like mine, and will be good, but in the waiting, I'm hating it.

Please join me in prayer for my family, and the life we are facing right now.  I'm losing my stuffing... I've lost my compass, I've lost my direction, I can't see my hand in front of my face, but I keep walking, and I'm trusting that God has this under control and is about to bless my socks off.

Dealing with the Interruptions of Life.

If you are familiar with this blog you will know that I'm the mother of four children.  If you are familiar with me, you will know that I home school two of them, and the other two make it their life goal to keep me from doing anything... home school, cleaning, sleeping, relaxing, working, writing, you name it... and I probably can't do it, at least not often, or well.
Lately it has been on my heart to write.  I want to write, I need to write, I actually feel commanded by God in heaven to write.  And call me crazy, but I don't think we have much time left in the world, so I need to get my bottom in gear and listen to that direction and be obedient to it.
Yesterday after feeling convicted to begin again, a book that I've worked on for the past nine years I sent the kids outside and sat down to write, it was the perfect opportunity, The big kids were finished with their school work, the baby was sleeping, the toddler (who can barely be called a toddler anymore) was also content to play outside.  The dog however wasn't so content.  The dog wanted out, I let him out, the children put him back in, the dog wanted out, the dog demanded to be let out, loudly and with jumping (the dog is a tall lab mix, and acts like a Jack Russel terrier), there was no ignoring him.  I let the dog out, the kids put the dog in, this cycle continued quite a few times,
Then the children climbed trees.  I am totally ok with tree climbing children, but I have two rules, 1. you have to get up by yourself, no help from anyone (this assures that they are capable of getting down without help the majority of the time).  2. You have to get down by yourself. (this lets them know that while mommy loves them deeply she doesn't want to help them get out of trees all the time, so please don't make mommy chase you around the yard getting you out of tress).
Of course Caeden (8) helped Fia (6) to get very high in a tree, and then they sent Micah (3) to get me and 'take a picture'.  I dutifully took a picture and returned to my writing, but then Micah came back to inform me that Fia couldn't get out of the tree.  So they went to another tree after I helped her down, and supposedly this one she could navigate on her own.
Back to writing, or rather reviewing what I wrote nearly a year ago to see what needed to be written now.  Then my dad called.  I answered because he's my dad, and because last Monday he nearly died, so talking to him when he calls is important, because you just never know.  He spoke to me about a bunch of things, but among them, while I stared at a computer screen I had added exactly zero words to, was that our lives are short in the grand scheme of things and we need to be sure that we are about the father's business, and furthering the kingdom of God.....
Yup, I sat there, distracted from the work of God by all the forces of the nature of my life, my children, my dog, the dishes and laundry that I had put off doing in order to 'be about the father's business' and the very conversation I was having with my dad, and I couldn't be about his business.
I was a bit annoyed, and didn't know how to explain exactly that; I needed to be about the business God had laid on my heart for that perfect afternoon.
I never did write a single word that day.
Today, I woke up and had no intention of even trying to write, but something significant happened.
A friend on Facebook posted an article about living under an unqualified president.  I'm sure the article was worth reading but lets face it, I don't have time for that sort of negativity, or really the desire to read yet another disgruntled opinion about the president whose inauguration is today.  It is what it is, the president of the last eight years wasn't all that qualified either.
But that post made me think of something else I had heard.  A man whose name I forget (blame mommy brain) and don't feel like looking up right now (blame the fact that it is 9:30 am and I'm in my pj's, have yet to eat breakfast and still have to educate my children for day), prophesied that Trump would become president of the United States.  And he did.  He also predicted who would win the triple crown, and that happened too.  Which alone is actually just kind of a cool thing... but here is the kicker, he also said that after Trump won the election the 'Trumpet would sound'.  God would return to fetch us up to heaven, those who believe.
I don't know if it is true, I don't know if it isn't, I'm not even going to speculate on that... but what I do want to share with you, the three of you who will actually read these words, is that if it is true, I want to be ready, but I'm not.
Lately I've been thinking about having another baby, yeah I'm announcing that to the world before I have even admitted it to my husband... but I have his name picked out and everything, and I just know our family isn't complete yet, because Ezekiel isn't a part of it....
I think about Patrick and I growing old together.  I think about getting old and dying, I think that is the dream... I want to be rewarded with the right to die at an old age... I'm not going to explain, you'll either understand or you won't.  Here is one you'll surely understand, I want to see my children married, I want to see my grand children.  I want to see my 3 year old come to a real understanding of Jesus, and possibly also learn to pick up his own toys.  I want to see my cuddly baby learn to walk, and talk, and say things, and  all the fun stuff that comes with her learning and growing.  I want to do and experience so much, how can I be excited for God to come back and stop all of that, so that I can go to heaven and no longer be married and raising children in the sense that I currently am..
The thoughts were swirling around in my head faster than I could pray about them, and I was very actively praying about them... and then my Micah came into my bedroom saying he was going to puke, and I went to care for him, and Caeden brought me my phone saying it was ringing, and life began to really happen..., no longer just the thought of it, but the actuality of it.
Who called?  My dad.. again.  So I quickly settled Micah in bed and called Dad back.  He said "I have a word for you"  and in my heart I knew he did, and my pulse jumped, and I thought "Yes, God, I need a word, let it be true."  Dad continued,
"Fear is just Faith in the wrong direction"
Dad continued to talk about other things, that would pertain to that message if it were about an actual worldly fear, but it wasn't, it was an other worldly lack of understanding, so what he was saying didn't apply but that first word shot straight to my heart.  I don't question the existence of my Lord and Savior, but if I ever did, that moment proved it over again, he had spoken to my heart.  I actually shed a few tears telling my dad about what I'd been thinking about, and praying about only moments before he had called.  It was very timely.
God's word is always on time!
I have nothing to fear about when God does choose to come back, because he knows the desires of my heart, he knows I want to continue on in this world, and whether that happens or not, whether I die of old age, or get swooped up into the clouds today, God is always and forever will be on time.

What does it mean to be pro-choice?

I've been called out as someone who has had an abortion... let me be clear, I have not had an abortion, do not condone or support abortion, and will never support them, however I have been in a situation that very closely if you don't know the details resembles an abortion, and had things gone differently would have been an abortion.  Let me explain.
In December of 2011 I started to bleed as if on a normal period, it seemed very normal so I'm going to assume it was, however that would have meant that around Christmas I would have become pregnant, I didn't however know this when I began to bleed again for what I assumed was an early period, the information is more clear in another post of mine and you are free to look it up, but I'm going to be brief here on the details.  The second 'bleeding' was extremely heavy, and I ended up having my husband take me to the ER.  I couldn't imagine any reason why I would be bleeding so heavily.
In the ER they gave me a blood test to determine if I were pregnant and to determine other things, the results came back positive for pregnancy.  I was astounded, because not only did they just inform me of pregnancy, but also the loss of a baby, because at the time I was sure I was in that moment miscarrying.  I was wrong about the miscarriage though, as it turned out I was pregnant another three weeks.  During those three weeks I had multiple blood tests to check the level of the pregnancy hormone in my system.  I also had multiple ultrasounds to determine why I was bleeding, but for three weeks no one could find my baby.  I prayed it was just so tiny, or that I'd already lost it, but I also prayed that my baby was safe, that it would grow stronger, and I fretted over each and every blood draw, and prayed that my baby would defy all odds.
January 26th I went to the ER for what seemed like the billionth time.. this time was different though.  This time they found my baby.  As is policy in the ER they wouldn't let me see the screen during the ultrasound, though I wanted so badly to get a glimpse of my baby, even if I was to lose that baby, I wanted to see it.  But I didn't get that privilege.  Instead the ultrasound tech finished up her work, and left the room.  Patrick also left the room to call his mom who was watching our children.
Someone came in with a medic kit and placed it on the bed and said I would be moving to another part of the hospital soon.  I didn't understand anything that was happening and no one told me, until a nurse came in and nonchalantly told me that I was about to be taken to the OR for the removal of my ectopic pregnancy.  I didn't at that moment even know if they had found my baby, and when she realized that she apologized profusely and left the room completely embarrassed for the way I had just found out my child was about to die.  The child that I had mourned over, prayed for, and yearned to have a reason to hope for....
Then they did move me, they took my hospital bed down a very long hall that lead to another building, the place babies are actually born.  And they began to talk to me about what was going to happen.  I'm a doula, I know I have choice... I know I can tell them I don't want certain things, I know I have rights to informed consent... but all that was shot to hell when I was told what was about to happen to me, and my child.  I did at one point ask if I could refuse the surgery, and a confused and compassionate nurse informed me that doing so would endanger my life, and that I would potentially die, but yes I did have that right.
How could I choose to honor my own life above that of my child though?  How could I choose me over a baby?  All the way down that incredibly long hallway I prayed, I cried, I asked God to please take my baby before I could be called a murderer... I am pro-life, how could I be here, in this situation?  How could I argue for the life of children if I choose my life over that of my child?  This was perhaps the biggest moment of my life, where my entire belief system came crashing around me asking, demanding answers to things that were previously far away, and irrelevant to me.
In the end believing that I had no choice but either the death my child or of both myself and my child I did allow the surgery, but prayed so fervently that God would take my baby, that it could not be said that I had an abortion.
The next day in the hospital I wept bitter horrible tears, I sought the help of every person available to me in the hospital to answer my questions, to ease the burden of my 'choice', or what I thought had been my choice, to choose life, mine over my babies... No one could ease the despair in my heart, no one could answer my questions... I was distraught and could not be pulled from the torment of what had happened to my child.
Two days after surgery the Doctor who performed my surgery had heard about my despair and came to speak to me saying she was sorry she hadn't come earlier, but that she had hoped the doctor who had been caring for me the day before would have told me a few things about the surgery.. that doctor had told me that the surgery had gone well, that is all I knew.  What I didn't know was that when I was laid on the operating table, before surgery began I hemorrhaged, I bled so badly that they knew if they didn't stop the bleeding they would have to give me a blood transfusion, and that my husband and I were wanting to avoid that as long as possible, in the blood was a tiny fluid filled sac, apparently not developed enough to have a heart inside, but a perfect, tiny sac... I had a miscarriage on the operating table before a knife had even touched me. Because the baby had been so little formed, and the nature of my bleeding they went ahead with the surgery anyway to be absolutely sure that everything was cleared and that I would have no further trouble.  The Doctor informed me about my beautiful ovaries, the right one had previously housed my baby, she said that I would be able to have more children and said she was sorry for my loss but in no way did I have an abortion, the baby passed on its own by God's amazing grace.
Now, did I choose my life over my child's and it just turned out good?  You could look at it that way, but I urge you to look at some other details.  First, had I not been a doula I wouldn't have known I had the right to refuse a procedure or the right to even ask about it.  But second, no one had told me that there are actually alternatives to that treatment.  I wasn't given any choices to be honest.  I could die nobly on principle or I could live after a life saving operation, that is what I was told... but the truth is that more than 90% of ectopic pregnancies resolve themselves if carefully monitored.  The truth is that if an ectopic pregnancy doesn't resolve itself there have been two cases of successfully moved embryo's, meaning that they took the baby out and put it where it should have been in the first place... not in a dish beside the mother they operated on, and to be fair I'm not sure if one of the two babies survived, but the other of the two absolutely did.  And here is another wonderful thing... If a mother's tube were to rupture as they assumed mine would have, that doesn't mean death to the mother or the baby 100% of the time.  There are plenty of documented cases of mothers having ectopic pregnancies outside of the womb and if discovered they can absolutely result in a healthy baby and mother... of course careful monitoring should be done in such cases, but this is not a death sentence to either the baby or the mother.  Had ANYONE told me that before this all happened to me I NEVER EVER would have conceded to the type of surgery I had let them do... AT the WORST I would have said the only way I consented to the surgery was if they were to put the embryo (which by the way is a baby) in my uterus and let God decide what was to happen after that... but they would never have been able to take my child away from me.
Given that this information is not standard care for women in my situation I feel inclined to inform those of you who are pro-choice that no choice is being given to the mother who wants their baby, but the baby has implanted someone deemed unsafe... she is not given a choice of whether to carry that pregnancy out to its own end or to end it early.. this game you all play where women need to have choices, it is a lie.  A BOLD FACED LIE.  I was given no choice, I was not even given informed consent.. I was told what the doctors and nurses were trained and it wasn't even close to the only option I had...
For another thing, abortion is a willful act of ending a child's life, whether by the choice of a mother or a doctor, but in the case of life threatening situations where a mother could really die, and her child has no opportunity for life, these things would be taken care of, monitored, and carried out in a hospital.  It should never be assumed that a woman with a life threatening health condition would walk into an urgent care center and not be sent immediately to the hospital, so it should also never be assumed that the clinics who perform abortions and offer other family planning items would perform an abortion to save the mother's life.  Those clinics are not for life saving, they are for life ending.  The END.

For a look at some amazing stories related to ectopic pregnancy visit:
https://www.asons.co.uk/resources/ectopic-pregnancy-not-always-a-death-sentence/

The Birth of Esmarie Joy

I don't even know how to start this post... I'll just be honest, there are so many places to begin with such a story as the dramatic entrance of a child into the arms of their family, but Esmarie, that is our newest little bundle of joy had to make her entrance something spectacular.

Let me just preface this entire story with two facts, first you my reader along with everyone else in the world (save one amazing sonographer) had no idea that Esmarie was a girl, because we chose not to find out, and let me tell you, when you carry a baby inside you for nine months, hoping it is a girl but feeling strongly that it is a boy and then find out it was indeed a girl, it is quite a shocking ride, but we'll get to that in a bit. The other fact that I'll throw out there is that this was my longest pregnancy yet, Caeden was born 9 days before his 'due date', Sapphira was helped along and born 4 days before her 'due date', and Micah was born 1 day after his 'due date', This little lady was born a full 8 days after her 'due date' and I'll be honest I was so very done being pregnant in the weeks before she arrived.

Esmarie's story begins Monday August 22nd.
Helen (my mother in law) has been with us awaiting the arrival of her grandchild for 10 days already, things are going well but I'm getting impatient to have the baby, My mother is supposed to come for a visit on the 27th, but only if I've had the baby by then, and Helen wants to visit her brother sometime before heading back to California on the 30th. I'm feeling all these things and just want this child born already, the help of my mother in law after the birth is slowly slipping away the longer I remain pregnant. Another thing weighing on my mind is our home school schedule, I took 5 weeks off from school centered around the due date of this baby. I had thought to continue working even though the calendar said we didn't need to just to spare myself in case baby came late, but then changed my mind in favor of letting the kids spend the time with their grandma, they hadn't seen her since before Micah was born and I didn't want to steal that time from any of them.
After a week of hanging out with grandma and no baby I began to freak out about how little time I would have remaining to get used to having a new baby, recover from the birth, and regain my house and order back before school began, so August 22nd I decided to start up school work again. We did one whole day worth of school work while I contracted every ten minutes or so, but there was no hope of labor, the contractions were just too light to even consider it.
Caeden was having major concentration issues and finding it incredibly hard to do his work, Sapphira did pretty well, and Micah was entertained by grandma, when we at last finished I put the boys down for naps and folded some laundry and cleaned up a bit then took Sapphira to get a new pair of glasses, afterward I met Patrick at the chiropractors, got an adjustment, and followed Patrick to a Honda dealership to see if they could get his car in to be looked at, they couldn't do it that day so we scheduled a day they could and I picked up KFC for dinner and we all went home. On the ride home I began having regular, much stronger contractions. They were strong enough to think about, but not strong enough to call anyone over.
Once home we ate and got ready to take the kids to Karate, Helen wasn't feeling well so she stayed home, but I went to see Patrick and the kids do their thing, and Micah loves to watch so I went to let him see and keep him out of the way. During the Karate class I was still having pretty regular and strong contractions, they were doing so well at progressing that I even felt confident enough to tell my best friend's husband that when he got home he should warn his wife she might get a call from me later that night.
At home I read the kids their story and got them into bed, then took a shower, the shower slowed things down, but after laying down myself this precious little baby started moving with every contraction, and between the contractions and the movement things were getting pretty intense and I couldn't sleep. I decided to time things again and the contractions switched from being 5-8 minutes apart to being 3-5 minutes apart. I still wondered about the fact that they just were not super intense yet, but called the midwife anyway, I needed an opinion from someone that wasn't in labor.
My midwife said that the change in timing sounded like a really good sign and that she would head over. At that moment I was not entirely sure that was what I wanted to happen, but things seemed to be progressing at a good pace so I had no doubt in my mind that eventually I was going to call everyone that night anyway, so I didn't argue, and decided that having them drive while already awake was better than driving after they'd fallen asleep and were groggy.
When everyone arrived I experienced a bit of a slow down, which I knew in my doula brain was completely normal, but I needed to escape that anxious environment so I asked Patrick to walk with me outside. The moon was nearly full, and it was a nice cool evening. It was the first time in a long time that Patrick and I really connected, I leaned on him during contractions and he held my hand or supported my arm as we walked circles around the grassy place at the end our our road by the light of the moon. It was romantic...
And then I started getting sleepy. I came inside and everything slowed down again... I decided maybe a little rest would help, so I laid down, and then conked out completely, all contractions left, nothing remained of labor. When the midwife woke me and I realized this I was heart broken, but it happens, and I know I'm not supposed to feel guilty about false labor, but I did feel guilty, and disappointed.
They all went home, one of them suggested that Patrick and I maybe try being intimate and then they were all gone. After our romantic walk it wasn't hard to imagine being intimate, and I won't beat around the bush, we were (yup, that's part of the story people, they say what gets a baby in also helps to get them out).
About an hour later I was having transition type contractions, shaking, and vomiting, and feeling incredibly out of my mind with the intensity of the contractions that had flared up again. Patrick and I debated, or rather he tried to get me to engage in a conversation of whether or not to call everyone back, but I couldn't participate in the talking so he had to make decisions himself, but I was in my head debating the same questions. Do we call everyone back and chance that it is again too early, or do we just wait and possibly have this baby without anyone here? Tough call.
He called them back, they had only just arrived home, one had enough time to shower before returning, the others didn't. Everyone came back again.
When the first midwife arrived I was laying on my side in our bed with the birth ball propped under one of my legs and moaning and shaking... she even thought I was getting close, and asked if I was feeling pushy.. and I wasn't entirely sure I wasn't feeling a little pushy. But I said no (I think I said no).
By the time everyone else arrived everything had stopped AGAIN! They checked my cervix and discovered that nothing had changed, let me say that again, NOTHING HAD CHANGED, since the first time they went home, I was 5cm dilated and 80% effaced, so they went home again. I was given strict orders to stay in bed all day, do nothing to motivate labor, and rest. I was told I had an irritable uterus... the rest of me was pretty darn irritable too.
Tuesday I rested, all day I rested, I read the kids their bedtime story that night and rested more. Wednesday there was no sign of labor, not one tiny sign. We obviously didn't do school on Tuesday, and Patrick wanted to have his car taken care of so Helen, the kids and I went out on Wednesday to take care of the car and we had a good day. I was still pretty frustrated with my body though. Thursday still no sign of labor and I decided we'd already lost half the week in school anyway so I skipped it again, that night I went grocery shopping, mostly because I needed to get the fact that I was still pregnant off my mind, not because we actually needed groceries, I would have preferred to have been in labor. Friday I had another midwife appointment.
At my appointment everything checked out fine, and we made a plan for me to get an ultrasound done to check on baby Monday or Tuesday of the following week, the midwives gave me a tiny bottle with a few drops of Jasmine essential oil, and marked some pressure points on my ankles and the bottoms of my feet, and gave instructions that I shouldn't attempt to massage these spots or use the oil until I'd had a full night of sleep and a good breakfast. After my appointment I went to run a few errands, one of which was to pick out a birthday present for my best friend, whose birthday was the next day and my frustration from not having had a baby yet had kept me from being a good friend and being prepared ahead of time to give her a gift.
Patrick had to work Saturday, I let him go, not that I had a choice, but I just felt hopeless about having a baby, so it didn't bother me that he wouldn't be spending the day with me, his mother or the children. I got up at 7am, and pulled open my bible.
I've been reading in Psalm for awhile now, and when I started I remembered that I'd had Neva read Psalm starting at the 40th chapter when I was in labor for Micah. I recalled this and the thought that if I could make it to chapter 40 I might go into labor, but that seemed silly and superstitious so I dismissed the thought and continued reading as I had been. But then Saturday morning I'm looking at my bible and I stopped caring about superstition and looked at my current chapter, 30, and thought "I can do that, I'll read the next 11 chapters" So I did.
I read chapter 40, ending in verse 17, and then wrote this in my journal.
"Dear Lord,
Psalm 40:17,
"As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me. You are my help and my deliverer, do not delay, O, my God."
You take thought for me, you are my deliverer, You will deliver this baby, you are thinking of me. I trust your word. I trust that I will go into labor now, I trust you to fulfill your promises to me. I trust in you to deliver this child. And I will even be so bold as to ask you to do it today.
Come Lord Jesus and bring the life you created inside my womb, out of it, bring it out safely, quickly, and in your love and peaceful protection.
I trust in you to deliver.
Love,
Samantha"

As per the suggestion of my midwives I decided to go and have breakfast and then proceed to rub my own ankles... I went to make breakfast, I cracked an egg and began to cook it, but before it was even half way cooked I had two very strong contractions. After all the disappointment of Monday I wasn't quite ready to call everyone in, but I did call Patrick and then the photographer, then my best friend who was out celebrating her birthday with her family at Waffle House. Then I decided to call the midwife, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed her, but I was still hesitant to ask her to come.
I shut myself in my bedroom, put on a skirt and slipped off my underwear, no one was going to need to cut them off this time. I used the toilet and drank some water, surprised at how thirsty I was with such strong contractions, I crawled across the bathroom floor moaning through the next contraction and feeling incredibly alone, I uttered "I don't want to do this alone!" and immediately I felt that God told my heart that I was NOT alone, and mid contraction, in my thoughts because I couldn't have done it out loud, I began to sing the song "I am not alone, I am not alone, you will go before me, you will never leave me...." and the muscles previously so tense began to release and relax into the intensity of the contraction. The next few contractions I spent this way, singing in my head and reminding myself that I wasn't alone.
Someone had opened my bedroom door so I was crawling to close it when my mother in law saw me and came in to check on me. I had thought I would have her exclusively taking care of the other kids, but no one else was there, so I welcomed her presence. She rubbed my back as I was waiting for those of my birth team to arrive. Patrick came first, and recognized that I was transitioning already, he thought he might have to catch the baby, and to be honest I thought he would too. Neva arrived next, and she and Patrick took care of things, At some point my water broke, it was a giant splash and covered the floor and the pad I had demanded someone put under me, I had to tell them where to find the bigger plastic table cloth that could go under me to catch any more, once the cloth was laid out I managed to get myself on top of it, and through some more contractions.
Not long after I started pushing, I knew there wasn't much time left, and still no midwife at my side. Later people asked me if I was nervous to deliver without the midwives, but I can honestly say no, I wasn't, I was working, achieving a goal, doing my job, there was no time to worry about whether a specific person was there to take the reigns, I knew if I could tell people what to do in the middle of such intense labor I could also give directions after pushing out my baby if need be, I was confident that everything was going fine.
I began pushing with vigor, roaring like a lion, I'd been making noise all along, but now my tones were fierce, and they were progressing that baby down, I could feel her head surfacing a few times, she was coming (keep in mind I didn't know she was a she yet), still no midwife... out and in again, intense burning and relief over and over as I brought her closer to the outside. And then Yvonne, one of my midwifes, she arrived, on a gust of wind, she got to work, and quickly, I hated the pressure she applied to me surrounding the baby's head, but I knew without a doubt that it was a good thing, so I bore it. Finally I had delivered my baby's head, and it was a relief, but still so very intense, and I knew that something was very different from when I delivered Micah, though I was in the same position. Yvonne told me to lean back to open my pelvis more and to push hard, that baby's shoulders were stuck. I listened and did as she asked, the work was hard, so much harder than when I had pushed Micah's shoulders out, it was intense and it burned, but I was focused and I was in the zone. I pushed her shoulders out and quit trying any more, I just needed a break, it didn't occur to me that I did or didn't need to continue pushing for the rest of my child to be born, I just didn't have much left. They all told me I still had work to do, I listened, I brought a baby into the arms of my midwife, and she in turn passed my baby between my legs and up to me, I was shaky, and weak, I couldn't really lift my child, I did see very quickly that I had delivered a girl before the voice of my best friend informed the room that the baby we'd all thought would be a boy was actually a girl. Even the midwife during the pushing had said "he" several times.
I cradled my baby's head and shoulders as that was all the energy I could give her at the time, and wondered about how many months I'd been thinking I'd carried a boy inside me, how I'd even mentally prepared for the eventual challenge of fitting another bed in the boy's room, but never once really tried to figure out how to fit a crib in Sapphira's room. I marveled at how attached I had gotten to the name Ezekiel Patrick, and how giving Esmarie the middle name of Joy had really been a last minute decision, one we were both happy with, but that had taken us so very long to come up with. All the thoughts flooded my head, we had a girl. I was immensely happy, but dumbfounded at the same time. We had a girl! Sapphira had a sister! This wasn't a boy. It came to me in slow increments, and I'm still three days later processing how incredibly wrong I had been. But wrong in a delightful way, Esmarie is a perfect addition to our family, God knew exactly what he was doing when he gave us this little girl.
Throughout my pregnancy I wanted to honor God in the birth of this child, I just couldn't figure out how to do it. It took me months to figure it out, and once I did I was still unsure of how it would play out, mostly because labor is so incredibly different every time for every woman, but also because I'd never set out to intentionally bring the Holy Spirit to a birth. I don't know if the perspective of others shows a Holy Spirit filled birth, but I do know that several times the Holy Spirit made his presence known to me. First in labor that didn't ended in everyone going home. I'd been praying for a time to reconnect with Patrick, and that night I had a very romantic evening with him, and while contracting I would sing "Holy Spirit you are welcome here, come flood this place and fill the atmosphere, your glory God is what our hearts long for, to be overcome by your presence Lord." and then continue to walk quietly with my husband in the moon light. It was a perfect evening for bonding with Patrick, even if it left me sad and discouraged about birth for the rest of the week, I wouldn't trade it.
Then when I labored alone a few things happened, first feeling alone and realizing I wasn't alone at all... I had a play list of songs that I prepared for labor, one of the songs continually didn't make sense to me, I had a huge birth team, why would I use the song that says "I am not alone" I didn't feel I needed that reminder, until I was alone, except for the presence of God, and it was suddenly a perfect song for my labor. And another thing that happened was with my mother in law. I hadn't wanted her in the room, I feared that she would freak out and be a distraction, but I had deeply wanted her to be there when my baby was born, partially because she had totally missed Micah's birth and consequently didn't meet him until this very visit when he is nearly 3 years old, and partially to show her that what I was doing, how I labored from home and delivered my children wasn't in fact dangerous, to give her the inside view of how sweet home birth could be. And then while I labored with Jesus she saw me, and came to be with me, she rubbed my back and we shared a moment I didn't think was even possible, but because of Jesus it was. She didn't stay in the room for the whole birth, but she was there when no one else was, and then she retreated to take care of the older kids and kept them from hearing their mother roaring out their sibling.
The presence of my midwife was also a bit of a miracle, as I was told she was doing 80mph on a road that cops are pull over happy for just 5mph over the speed limit of 45mph, and that she not only passed a cop but blew through a stop sign and was not pulled over or hurt, so I'm positive that angels were guarding her.
My other midwife arrived in time to help with my postpartum care which also turned out to be a God thing, because shortly after I moved from the place on the floor where I'd delivered Esmarie, to the bed where I was much more comfortable, Yvonne asked politely if I minded if she left me in Brandy's care so that she could make it to a 'religious conference' that she had already missed due to one birth, and by God's grace she could make it there this time, if I didn't mind... and of course I didn't, Brandy was with me, and I'd already done all the hard work.
Before Yvonne left Esmarie was weighed and measured and was determined to be my biggest baby by a whole pound!

Esmarie Joy was born at 10:18am Aug 27th, 2016 weighing 9lbs 7oz and was 21.5 inches long. She was born on my best friend's birthday, after a very intense 2 hour labor.
I am blessed.

All the changes

Just to mention a few changes that have happened over the past I don't know nearly two years....
moved out of 5th wheel in Pennsylvania and into house we own in Oklahoma.
Bought a bigger house in Oklahoma and found a renter for the other house.
Got pregnant once and lost the baby shortly after (but you know about that)
Went to California to help a friend deliver her baby.
Came home and got pregnant again.
These are not in order.

So here we are... as Daniel Cook would say (I really loathe that show).
I'm 38 weeks pregnant with this blessing baby and getting ready for my mother in law to come for a visit. She hasn't seen any of us since just before Micah was born, so it will be fun to have her here and get to see her meet both this new baby and Micah pretty much at the same time. I think Patrick is excited about seeing his mom too, he's been talking to her on the phone a lot over the last two weeks or so.

Preparation for the birth of our fourth baby (the kind I'll get to actually hold in my arms) are well underway... but since I don't know the gender of this baby there isn't a whole lot to do.
I've prepared a basket of goodies for my birth team to eat while they serve me in labor, I've prepared my birth kit, with all the stuff that will be needed, or could be needed during the delivery, I've washed clothes that are gender neutral, and I've crocheted a few things. I've got the pack n' play set up in the closet with the bassinet already to go and the changing table, with diapers and wipes, and I've stocked the diaper bag. I've also created a play list (look at that! fourth birth and I've finally done it!) for the labor, I've taken a Christ centered childbirth class, which was awesome! (shout out to Kierra at A Heavenly Welcome) I've done nearly everything, except put that inferno of a plastic sheet over our bed... because it makes me hot, and I'm already hot... and I just don't want to have it on until I have to... which will probably be this Wednesday when I clean my room again.
The kids and I are finishing up our last week of school before taking a break for baby. I'm hoping baby doesn't tarry, cause the longer I take off before baby the less time I get to take off after baby, and that could really suck. I've thought about just continuing to school until baby arrives, but I thought it would probably be better if the kids got to enjoy their grandma while she is visiting instead of doing school work the whole time.

I tried, I really tried to get the house to a 'manageable' place, but every time I turn around it just isn't maintained any longer... I'm near ready to give up, this mama is tired! But if I give up then it only gets worse....
So I'm off to fold laundry!