In The Night

A friend recently called my attention to this song and, holy moly, if this period of my life could have a theme song, this is it.  It's from Andrew Peterson's album "Counting Stars".  Just go get the whole darn thing, it's so good.  Please give it a listen and let the words sink in.

Questions

What possessed a diseased looking, tail-less lizard to come into our house this afternoon?

Why did it choose the leg of my new white jeans as its hiding place?

When will it come out?

How do these things seem to happen all the time?

What to blog?  What to blog?  It's been so long and we've had so much going on lately.  I lay in bed most nights thinking of things to write and then I never end up sitting down at the computer.  Oh well.  Different seasons for different things, huh?

The kiddos and I have been in Georgia with my family this week because B has been in yet another big trial.  We've had a great week, but like all weeks, it's flown by.  (And, as an aside, B kicked major boo-tay in his trial this week.  If you'll allow me a sentence in which to brag, my husband is pretty amazing at what he does.)

Poor sweet Miller-man is doing many new things these days like playing with his toes, almost sitting by himself, and rolling every which way.  Sadly, sleeping through the night is still not a skill he possesses.  It's hard to believe that he's almost been with us on the outside for 6 months now.

Eliana is still bursting at the seams with just about everything.  She's been using the big girl potty all week long and doing great, but I'm still too chicken to have her not wear a diaper to bed or in public.  She is also in the business of inventing verbs these days.  My favorite so far happened the other night at a gas station.  My dad was pumping gas into my car when she looked over and said, "Who dat gassin'?  Is dat Pop gassin'?"  Needless to say, we were rolling.

That's about it for now.  I hope that you all have a fabulouso weekend!

Trial Week

There is no preparation for these weeks and every time I'm blindsided.  It's been a "trial" week in several senses of the word.  Quite literally, B is in trial.  Which means he's not home for dinner.  Or bathtime.  Or bedtime.  And when he gets here it's only to grab a bite to eat and maybe chat for a few minutes before settling back in to work for long after I go to bed.  Those things in and of themselves are a trial for our little family.  There's no one else going through this.  No support groups.  No informational meetings welcoming us to a life of loneliness.  Just kind friends on the phone (and a couple in person) who listen to this overwhelmed Mama babble on about whatever.  It's sad when you reach a state where you feel like you are actually friends with your children's pediatrician because she's the only adult you've had a face to face conversation with for two days.  And to top it all off, it's Easter weekend and he has duty and we have zero plans.  (Hello entire box of peeps that I did not mean to eat...)

But I don't want to mope.  This is the day that the Lord has made, and darn-it, I will (at least try to) rejoice and be glad in it.  My kids are a joy.  Els is sunshine wherever she goes and Miller's face could light up the sky when he sees me.  Plus, they've been napping at the same time for at least an hour every afternoon for the last couple of days.  I sure won't argue with that.  So, I will continue to hide Els' eggs in the living room because of the rain ("I'm pickin' eggs, Mama!) and we will continue to be very creative with leftovers and whatever food we happen to have in the fridge.

The veil was torn in two from top to bottom, so I am never really alone.

But they don't call them trials for nothing!

Baby "Muh's" First Trip to the Beach

All cozy in the arms of his Nana.  I'm not sure if this child could be any cuter.

Blessings

I would be remiss if I did not share this song.  I don't really know what to say except this is exactly how I feel and have felt for a while.  Close your eyes and listen to the words.  Be blessed.

"Lord You are my hope 'cause you've created in me a heart that lives the victory that You've already won."
-Watermark (emphasis mine)

All Kinds of Revolutions

These days, I live in a bit of a bubble.  A mommy-o-sphere, if you will.  My days are spent in the company of Dora, Wonder Pets, Seeds, and two adorable children, while the world, it seems, keeps raging on.  I have never joined, nor plan to join Twitter, and though I'm pretty avid texter now, I only began less than three years ago in order to communicate with my sister.  The books I read tend to be older, and I'm still listening to a lot of the same music that I was in 2006.  I sent an email to my very hip, fashion forward best friend from college last week telling her how happy I am that styles have come back around to wide leg pants and bright colors, both things I have still in my closet from 2005-2006 (AKA the pre-pregnancy, pre-nursing, pre-gaining and losing lots of weight up and down years).

So, it's pretty safe to say that a lot of things happen culturally that I am totally unaware of.  However, every once in a while, my little bubble gets popped by new things, and it usually pours when it rains.  Take the whole Rob Bell situation.  I was completely unaware of it until a 2AM feeding Miller while surfing the internet rabbit hole led me to article after article about it.  I don't really feel qualified or informed enough to comment at this point.  What I do know is A) I really hate that it's causing divisions whether real or imagined in the visible church, and B) I think I need to read the book to make a fair judgement call.  If there's one lasting thing that grad school gave me, it's that I cannot take anything at face value.  And, since I'm currently trying to tackle Anna Karenina, other books are just going to have to wait.  (Well, other than the other book I'm reading.  But it's more like a series of blog posts.  But I digress.  Moving on.)

Also, there's this completely unrelated movement wherein runners are moving to low-profile running shoes.  A lot of them are those "five-finger" shoes that have separate sections for all of your toes.  My mom encouraged me not to knock them if I haven't tried them, but I'm not sure how I would feel about separate places for all of my toes.  They kinda like each other.  After talking to a guy at an outdoor store today, though, I want to do more research.  Eventually.  What I do know is that I LU-UHVE my new running shoes.

Finally, I'm reading One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.  Talk about revolutionary people!  This book is changing the way I think and see everything.  Everything.  It's hard to explain but when one of the dear friends in the Bible Study where we're discussing this book called it revolutionary this morning, I knew exactly what she was talking about.  Don't read it if you want to stay the same and wallow in your life.  The book is so challenging to me about living my daily life and being thankful in ALL situations.

Other than that, the biggest change I'm making is to all natural deodorant.  So far so good, but it's not summer yet, so we'll see.

"I don't know nothin' expect change will come.  Year after year what we do is undone." -Patty Griffin

Logorrhea

Els' vocabulary is exploding these days, meaning that my world is very, very rarely quiet these days.  Girlfriend not only loves to talk, she demands an audience.  There is very little that she doesn't say now or at least attempt to say.  She's also discovered the wonderful world of questions this week.  Now everything is, "Where we goin' to, Mama?,  "Who you singin' to, Mama?",  "What Mama doin'?"  She has for several months referred to herself as 'Ana.  So I also get a lot of, "What does Ana say?"  "Where Ana go?"  "What Ana doing?" (To which I reply, "I don't know, what IS Eliana doing?")  It's wonderful and challenging, and sometimes quite overstimulating for "Mama."  The "why" game has also begun.  I thought she was too young for this....

One of my favorite things about her words is the fact that she says several things with a British accent for some reason.  "Someping huts, Mama," for something hurts and "not wuking" for not working and the like.  She also says moe-wuh for more, drawing out the word like a true Southern girl, but ending up sounding more New-Englandy to me.  

She is truly becoming more and more interested in her little brother too, always asking, "Where baby at, Mama?" when he's not around.  Or "Why dat baby crying, Mama?"  She says "Muh" for Miller and has recently taken to my nick-name for him, calling him "Muh-man" for Miller Man.  Also, I caught her singing to her baby doll one of the songs that I sing to her yesterday.  Melt.  My.  Heart.

I love every new thing she does and says.  Every stage, although increasingly challenging, gets better and better and more fun with my sweet girl.  It's so fun to hear a little about what she does when she goes to church nursery or "school" (aka Mother's Morning Out one day a week).  She can tell me what she did and whether or not she had a snack and even what said snack was.

That little Muh-Man is lots of fun too right now.  He's getting into that "smiley" stage and he's a smiley man.  I am constantly humbled by how much he loves his Mama.

I will leave you with a picture of the two having tummy time together.  "Wook Mama, I habing tummy time too!"

From the Weekend

It's my party and I can look surprised if I want to.

A happy blue monster after his bath.

2 Years

Today is my darling girl's second birthday.  I can hardly believe that it's been two years since our world was graced with her presence, yet I don't really remember life without her.  She is a constant source of joy, entertainment, words, and life lessons.  Toddlerhood is proving challenging yet shot through with laughs.  For instance, her "word of the week" this week is something.  "Something in the mouth, Mama.  Something in the shoe, Mama.  Something hurts, Mama," etc, etc.  And yes, EVERY sentence is finished with the word Mama.  I love it even though I feel like changing my name sometimes.

Eliana Hope,

You have changed my life for the better every day since February 27, 2009.  You challenge me to rely on Christ more than ever and to live what I believe.  Thank you for being so delightful, even on bad days.  I love reading to you, playing with you, talking to you, and "snu-ing" with you when you want to.  I look forward to all the ups and downs of life with you because life is simply more with you in it.  You are my sunshine.

I love you forever,

Mama

I'm Pretty Sure I've Posted This Before, But

This is the part of a song that I sing in my head more often than not right now:

"Well, this day's been crazy
But everything's happened on schedule
From the rain and the cold
To the drink that I spilt on my shirt
Cause you knew how you'd save me before I fell dead in the garden
And you know this day long before you made me out of dirt

And you know the plans that you have for me
And you can't plan the ends and not plan the means
And so I suppose I just need some peace
Just to get me to sleep."

-Table for Two by Caedmon's Call

The Kids are Both Asleep, Dare I Blog?

I feel like every time I sit down to write, it's been so long and there's so much to say that I don't know where to begin.  So, in lieu of something deep this time, I thought I'd do a favorite things post.  So here goes.

First off, Trader Joe's.  There is not one near us, but there is one about 5 minutes away from my parents' house and in the two visits we've had since it's opened, I've been probably 10 times.  Seriously.  Where do I begin?  The triple ginger snaps, the Go-Omega trail mix, the olive tapenade.  Not to mention the coffee, shampoo, and frozen Asian bowls.  And everything is so reasonably priced!  If you're ever near one, go.  If you live near one, lucky you.

In keeping with the food theme, I have discovered a love for almond milk and coconut milk ice cream.  My little Miller is a complicated soul and it seems that he can't tolerate much dairy in Mommy's diet.  And Mommy pretty much hates soy milk and related products.  Fortunately for both of us, non-dairy has come a long way.  If only there was a good cheese substitute...

I absolutely have to give another shout to the Baby Bjorn.  I have no idea what I would do without.  And I just thought I used it a lot with Els.

Have I ever mentioned our collective family love for our white noise makers?  B and I started using one long before we had kids, so it was only natural that they have them in their rooms as well.  I tell people it's like turning off the lights for your ears.  Els likes hers, but she always wants to turn it off first thing when she wakes up and she tries to do it with her toe because that's how I do it (because I'm usually carrying her) which is hilarious.  We really should think about owning stock in this company.

That's all for now.  I hear my precious first born calling.

Oh, and did I mention coffee?  I LOVE coffee.  It's always favorite.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

How do I even begin to tell you about the past week of life for us?  I have to begin by being real honest and saying that for the first six weeks of Miller's life, he was quite the fusser.  Finally, we got him on Zantac over the course of a week, he began to show us a little of the laid back fella that I'm beginning to think he is.  Then.  Oh, then.  Then he got RSV.  He was diagnosed last Friday with a mild case.  The doctor sent us home with instructions to raise the head of his bed, run a humidifier, and call if he got worse.  No problem.  Until last Sunday night when he started running a pretty high fever and struggling to breathe. I have never been so terrified in my life.  It was a numbing terror, watching our precious 7-week old held down for chest x-rays and an IV insertion.  Not to mention just being in the Beaufort Memorial ER at midnight on a Sunday.  That place is crazy.

God's hand was on us every second, though, and we only spent the next 48 hours at the hospital.  We were admitted to a room and Miller had a lot of breathing treatments and fluids before finally being released on Tuesday night.  Although relieved to be home at that point, I felt like we were back at the beginning in some respects with him.  He was only between 7 and 8 weeks old and any small strides I had made with him as far as scheduling goes were tossed out the window.  And now he's on a nursing semi-strike.  I can't really talk about that yet because I have no idea where this is headed.

Through it all, I have been thinking a lot about the Pharisees in the Bible and how Jesus was not the savior they were looking for.  He was born in a barn, hung out with low-lifes, said some crazy things, and died a horrific death at 33.  They were looking for someone to overturn Rome and sit on the throne like King David did.  They wanted life restored to how they thought it should have been.  Right then.  I've been thinking about this because I keep thinking, "This is not how I wanted to be saved."  This is not how I wanted to learn God's grace and provision for me.  This is not how I wanted to learn to trust him.  Most days I feel like I am more qualified to do any other job on the planet than to parent my two precious babies.  But this is how God chose for me to be sanctified.  This is how He chose to show Himself in my life.  Sickness and tiredness and everything changing day after day after day.  All of those people who told me that it was the toughest thing they've ever done to go from one child to two were right.

But perseverance produces hope, so I need to go to bed now so I can do all of this craziness again tomorrow.  Thank goodness that His mercies are new every morning.

"You can't always get what you want.  But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need. "  -The Rolling Stones

My Three Loves

Els FINALLY agreed to "hold" her brother tonight after almost seven weeks of trying to talk her into it.  She was way excited to give him "baby juice".

And Now

Oh the joy of being dressed up by Aunt "Dace".

The jury's still out.  Who does this cutie look like?  

Pictures of the wee ones.  Because it's been a while and they're growing like weeds.

I'm Burning

When God called Moses in Exodus 3 to lead the people of Israel out of Egypt and under the hand of Pharaoh, Moses' first question was highly understandable.  He basically asked, "Who am I, Lord?  Why me?"  I understand his thinking because I've been asking God the same question for the last five and a half weeks.  "Do you really know who I am, God?  Why did you pick me to be the mother of two children?  Don't you know I'm much more qualified for, well, anything else?"  No, God hasn't called me to lead a nation, but on days like today, I feel like that would be a much easier job description than the one I have.

As I was just in the shower (oh the sheer bliss of two simultaneously sleeping children!) God reminded me of Exodus 3, Moses' question, but more importantly, he reminded me of how he answered the shepherd-cum-leader of Israel.  He didn't pat Moses on the back and remind him of all the good things that he'd done, all of the ways God had been preparing him for this task.  No.  He simply said, "I will be with you."

That's what he's reminding me of today.  No sir, I'm not qualified for this job.  Not in the least.  But it is exactly where God wants me and he is with me every step of the way.

And I know who He is.

"Moses saw the bush in flames and heard the branches speak his name, I wonder if he felt this kind of fear..." -Nichole Nordeman

I'm Thankful

I know that writing out things I am thankful for is late, as it is now actually closer to Christmas than Thanksgiving, but better late than never right?  Also, just like I believe in telling those I love that I love them on days other than Valentine's, it's very important for me to purposely dwell on things I'm thankful for on days other than that marked by turkey, dressing, and cranberry sauce.  You see, I don't really understand why, but I can be a bit of a negative person.  I hate it, but I'm always waiting for the other shoe to fall, the bad thing to happen instead of being thankful for what I have.  It's something that drives B crazy and it's something that I constantly fight.   So, here in this precious window of time while both children are napping (I say napping and not sleeping because Els is in her bed talking to her stuffed animals for a while before she sleeps)*, here are things I'm thankful for, in no particular order.

• a man who loves me for who I am (and sometimes, despite who I am)
• a little girl who is so full of life sometimes I think she might burst at the seams
• a baby boy who loves to be swaddled and cuddled and who looks like his mommy
• a mom who lays down her life every day for the people around her and is the best "juggler" I know
• a dad who would do anything for his children and is a wonderful example of Christ
• an older, younger sister who, besides B, is my best friend and probably knows me best
• an older, younger brother who is witty and smart and going to be a fabulous doctor 
• a younger, younger sister who reminds me that miracles do happen in front of our eyes and that sometimes God's answer to prayer is a resounding "YES!"
• a younger, younger brother who lives life to the fullest every second of every day without exception
• many other people I don't have time to list because children are waking up
• children waking up
• the gift of Christ, the gift of a perfect Son come to live and die so that we can know the Father

What are you thankful for?

(*I started this post one day and had to finish it on another.  Thus my life now.)

Miller's Birth

This little guy grows and changes so much every day, yet, 10 days later I still cannot hardly believe that he's here.  Finally here.  So, for potentially inquiring minds out there as well as my own memory, I thought I'd write his birth story before I forget the details.

It actually starts the week before he was born.  I was miserable.  I'm talking MISERABLE.  The way that Miller was positioned kept me from sleeping for more than an hour or so at the time and I was at the end of my rope physically and emotionally.  On the Thursday night, a whole week before his birth, I started having a pretty high fever that left me shaking and achy all over.  On Friday it got a little better, mainly through sheer will power, but reemerged early Saturday morning.  Also, when I tried to roll onto my right side, pain would shoot through my whole hip and leg, making me want to scream.  We had no idea what was going on, so we did something very uncharacteristic of us-we went to the hospital.  Long story short, what I thought would be a short visit followed by antibiotics turned into a day full of tests, including a CT scan, an overnight stay, and an IV of fluids for about 18 hours.  For a while the doctors thought I had appendicitis and I faced the reality of a possible C-section and appendectomy.  God worked wonders, though, and Sunday morning I felt a lot better, my white counts were up, and they sent me home with orders to rest and come back when I was in labor.

Then it was Thanksgiving week.  My whole family showed up and everyone except me was convinced that Miller would be born at any point during the week.  I was still very tired and in a negative frame of mind, so I went around telling everyone that I was sure that he would not come until the middle of December.  I'm pretty sure they all rolled their eyes at me behind my back, but I was beyond getting my hopes up anymore.  We had a very lovely Thanksgiving out at a beach house that my family had rented, complete with fried turkey, the best turnip greens EVER, and a two hour stroll on the beach.  But still no Miller.

That walk on the beach left me more sore than the marathon and all the half-marathons I've ever run put together.  I could hardly walk that night.  At 3:30 am I woke up crying in misery and pacing around our room.  B calmed me down and I slept fitfully until about 7.  When we got up and started to get ready for the day, I began to notice some mild contractions, but I was determined not to make anything of them.  They were all about 15 minutes apart and didn't stop me from doing anything, so told B, but we both thought that maybe he would be born the next day.  Everyone came over to our house for breakfast, and although the contractions continued, they did not get stronger or closer together, so we continued with our plans for the day.  My mom and I went to get pedicures at this fabulous place I've discovered and that relaxed me so much that the contractions nearly stopped.  "Oh well, " I thought, and we continued to a cute little children's store in downtown Beaufort.  After that, my dad and B had picked up lunch for us, so we headed back to the house.  All of the sudden, during lunch, the contractions picked up and started becoming painful.  I actually had to jump up from the table a couple of times.  After lunch I told my mom that I needed everyone except for her and B to leave.  Els went down for a nap and everyone else headed for Wal-Mart.  Around 2:30, I had the worst contraction yet and I let out a little yell.  Mom looked at B and said, "You have to go to the hospital, NOW."  I was so determined not to make something out of nothing, that it was God's grace to us that she was there to insist that we leave.  I don't know when I would have decided to go on my own.

We arrived at the hospital around 3 pm and Miller was born at 4:16 pm.  I had made the mistake of asking for an epidural when we got there, but was already asking to push when the mean spirited anesthesiologist was trying to put it in.  The nurses kept telling me that I couldn't push, the doctor wasn't there yet.  When she finally arrived, she asked me if I wanted to wait for the epidural to kick in or if I wanted to push and go ahead and have the baby.  That was an easy decision despite the epic pain, I wanted to have the baby of course!  In the end, I got no relief from the epidural.  Miller was born within minutes of it going into my back, so they simply took it out.  He had pooped before delivery, so they had to rush him to the side and suck his airways out before I could hold him.  I think I held my breath until I heard that first little cry.  He was fine.  He was covered in nastiness, but he was fine.  We were a little shocked to see that he had a head full of almost black hair and looked very little like Els, but he is a beautiful boy.  Upon examination of my baby pictures, he actually looks a lot like I did as a newborn.  We're looking forward to seeing what he looks like as he grows.

So, whew!  It's hard to believe that all of that happened over 10 days ago now.  I'm not sure when it's going to sink in that I have two children.  Thank the Lord for wonderful friends and family that are being so supportive right now to this emotional mama.

And thank the Lord for coffee.

Introducing.....

Miller Ashton Magee

Born November 26, 2010 at 4:16 pm

7 pounds, 6 ounces

He's a snuggler!