Snow Day 2011 [Day Three] -- Cosleeping

I love this picture -- I took it on Tuesday. Brystol was sick and vomiting on Monday, and though she was "better" by early afternoon, she still wasn't 100% until late Tuesday. James was snowed-in on Tuesday, but as the day progressed, he wasn't feeling 100% and developed a fever as the evening drew near. This is a picture of the two sickies intersecting, meeting up for an impromptu nap on the couch.

As the once-upon-a-time magical snow day sticks around for its third take, I'm feeling pressured by bored kids who don't want to play in the snow-turned-ice. I'm also a distance learning student with deadlines, and snow days don't exist on the internet. This picture takes me back to a simpler, more peaceful time of this never ending "snowpocalypse" where people were happy and naps were possible.

Tuesday, how I miss you...

Getaway: Door County, Wisconsin

James had to visit a client on Washington Island in Wisconsin this week, so Brystol and I traveled with him and enjoyed three lovely days in Door County. We ate freshly-caught lawyer fish, cheese curds, and cherries (there are almost 50 orchards across Door County!). We wandered through the quaint villages and along the rocky beaches. While James worked, Brystol and I watched seagulls following a plowing farmer, we visited the woods at Mountain Park, and we admired the lovely limestone at School House Beach -- one of only five limestone beaches in the world.

The "Cape Cod of the Midwest," Door County is one of the top ten vacation destinations in North America, but only one short month ago, I had no idea Door County, Wisconsin even existed. Boy, have I missed out! We visited during the off-season -- a couple of weeks yet before the area really comes to life -- and even still, we enjoyed so many fantastic things -- nearly all that Door County had to offer. (I did miss out on some antiquing -- boo!) Truly, a beautiful and very relaxing work-week getaway!



Collage Images from top left to bottom right:
Snowmobile Crossing sign, Sturgeon Bay
Cedar Tree Roots in the Woods at School House Beach, Washington Island
Plowing Farmer/Feeding Seagulls, Washington Island
Eagle Bluff Lighthouse, Fish Creek
Stavkirke Prayer Path, Washington Island
Eagle Bluff Lighthouse, Fish Creek
Limestone Shore at School House Beach, Washington Island
Passenger Ferry Boat, Washington Island
St. Michael's Cemetery, Washington Island
Limestone Shore at School House Beach, Washington Island
Rocky Waters at the Marina, Sister Bay
Paddle Boat on Residential Inlet, Washington Island
Seagull on Pier, Egg Harbor
Winding Road to the Car Ferry, North Port
Mossy Tree Roots at Mountain Park Lookout Tower, Washington Island
The Stairway to Mountain Park Lookout Tower, Washington Island
The Diving Raft at School House Beach, Washington Island
Sunset on the Marina, Sister Bay
Blue Crab Claw, Egg Harbor
Farmhouse, Sturgeon Bay
Egg Harbor Beach near the Alpine Resort, Egg Harbor

Miley Cyrus and a Little Girl's Hero

Ever the Daddy's Baby Girl, James knew a displaced Gracie would need some daddy/daughter time once Brystol came along, so long before baby day, James purchased two tickets for the Miley Cyrus concert. He was most certainly this little girl's hero (and mine).

Pretty Little Rock Star


Miley on a Motorcycle




Miley photo credit: BobButtons (away)

The End of an Era

James celebrated his 39th birthday this year, a surprisingly remarkable event. This birthday seemed to mark the end of an era. It seemed to be less about wrapping up the thirties and more about staring down the forties -- a nail in the coffin of his youth, if you will. This birthday was probably the mopiest ever.

To cheer him up, we celebrated James by spending very little money. (For some reason, James' happiness level increases in direct correlation to my decreased spending. Very interesting...) The kids and I made chocolate cake balls and we gave him funny birthday cards, Dallas Cowboys paraphernalia, and complete control over the weekend plans.

James used his power wisely, and we continued celebrating at Freebirds in Arlington where James had a monster and made himself happily miserable. We drove around Cowboys Stadium watching tailgating Aggies out in the cold rain. We considered picking up some tickets to the game, but opted for coffees and couches at home instead (a decision we felt even happier about when the Aggies lost). The rest of the weekend was a blur of football and lounging and napping and lazing -- so great!

Making Cake Balls for Dad


Rolling Away


Sweets


Happy Birthday


Make a Wish!


James --
We love you.
We appreciate you.
We hope this year is fuller and richer
than the 38 before it.

Happy Birthday!

How I Wish I Believed in Karma

Remember when the dog ate my planner? Remember how upset I was? Remember how insensitively my husband responded until I suggested he imagine his Blackberry passing through the dog's lower intestine?

He doesn't have to imagine anymore.

After 15 minutes of being left alone downstairs last night,
the dog turned what should have been this:


into this:

Fortunately, we carry insurance on our cell phones, so instead of having to pay hundreds of dollars out of pocket for a replacement cell phone, we pay a small deductible to have a new one shipped directly to our home. Unfortunately, the replacement phone will not arrive before James leaves town for a few days to meet a client in the upper Midwest, leaving behind his very pregnant wife. Needless to say, he is a wee bit stressed out.

I hope the dog survives.


photo credit: Sprint.com

Thoughts on Our Daddy by Gracie and Bub

My friend Leslie posted this meme as a note on Facebook, and I've seen it on blogs from time to time. I think it's fun to read and I'm always curious about how my kids will answer. (In fact, I asked them the questions separately and was shocked by the similarities!) If you have a kiddo old enough to answer, feel free to take this for yourself... it's worth it for the laughs!

(Cut and paste these questions and ask your kids their answers, typing their responses. Change it to Mommy or another family member if necessary.)

1. What is something Daddy always says to you?
Gracie -- I love you!
Bub -- I love you!

2. What makes Daddy happy?
Gracie -- Watching American Idol.
Bub -- Obeying.

3. What makes Daddy sad?
Gracie -- You (meaning me, Amanda) going somewhere without him.
Bub -- Disobeying.

4. How does your Daddy make you laugh?
Gracie -- He plays funny games with me.
Bub -- By telling us jokes.

5. What was your Daddy like as a child?
Gracie -- Really, really poor. (He wasn't.)
Bub -- I think he was blessed.

6. How old is your Daddy?
Gracie -- Maybe 37 or 38.
Bub -- 38.

7. How tall is your Daddy?
Gracie -- About eight feet.
Bub -- About eight feet, because he's a full quarter, we're a half-quarter, so if we're four feet, he must be eight feet. (What??)

8. What is his favorite thing to do?
Gracie -- Go on dates with me, or maybe work.
Bub -- Talk to us.

9. What does your Daddy do when you're not around?
Gracie -- Go to work.
Bub -- Watch TV.

10. If your Daddy becomes famous, what will it be for?
Gracie -- Getting lots of money.
Bub -- It would be for money.

11. What is your Daddy really good at?
Gracie -- Tying his shoe.
Bub -- Going on trips.

12. What is your Daddy not very good at?
Gracie -- Cheerleading.
Bub -- He's good at playing basketball, but he's not good at building.

13. What does your Daddy do for a job?
Gracie -- Finds jobs for doctors.
Bub -- He travels and earns money.

14.What is your Daddy's favorite food?
Gracie -- Sushi or maybe Hot Pockets.
Bub -- That kind of fish he's allergic to (catfish).

15.What makes you proud of your Daddy?
Gracie -- That he is my Daddy.
Bub -- He helps me. He cares for me.

16. If your Daddy were a cartoon character, who would he be?
Gracie -- Yogi Bear.
Bub -- He would be Squidward.

17. What do you and your Daddy do together?
Gracie -- Practice Golf.
Bub -- Hang out or play golf.

18. How are you and your Daddy the same?
Gracie -- I have his nose.
Bub -- We both like catfish and video games.

19. How are you and your Daddy different?
Gracie -- I'm shorter than him.
Bub -- I don't like Sushi and he does.

20. How do you know your Daddy loves you?
Gracie -- Sometimes he does special stuff for me, like takes me to the mall.
Bub -- He prays for me and hugs me and kisses me.

21. What does your Daddy like most about your mom?
Gracie -- That she's the Mom of the family.
Bub -- You (meaning me, Amanda) cook dinner for him.

22. Where is your Daddy's favorite place to go?
Gracie -- Church.
Bub -- To sports places with me.

On Marriage, Holiness, and the Adoption Option

Earlier in the week, I had a little free time -- no kids, traveling husband -- so I spent the evening running errands. James asked me to be on the lookout for a new Bible for him. He really enjoys a devotional Bible, but he's sort of beyond the devotionals in his current Bible, so while I was out running around, I stopped at Mardel to browse the selection.

I thumbed through several Bibles, and found a devotional answering questions raised in a discussion we recently had, so I dropped it in my basket and headed towards the education department. On my way over there, I read this adage:

Marriage is not meant to make you happy.
It's meant to make you holy.

Friday, I went to the wedding of my very dear friend, Lois. For as long as I've known her, which is now over 15 years, she's been waiting for the one. She had a few ideas for a spouse, but the thing that topped her list was that he be a Godly man. I believe she knew marriage would be challenging, and to have someone praying and trusting God alongside her was huge.

As far as my marriage goes, in and of itself, it's been okay. Pretty great, really. James and I have had our ups and downs, and have been through marital situations now and again, but as a whole, the marriage itself has been super. Compared to the struggles we've seen some of our friends walk through, our marriage has been very easy. It's been the fruits of our marriage that have sent us to the very edge of the happiness/holiness conundrum. In particular, the "fruitfulness" aspect of growing our family. We have not conceived, borne, or brought home a child without some kind of nightmarish circumstance.

My story has been told time and again, so I won't rehash it (that's what the archives are for!), but when I read that particular proverb, it really made me think. I know I often feel like such a victim. When I try to recount my experiences to others for the sake of lifting them up, I often find myself spiraling downward, questioning time and again, "Why?" Once I sink to that deep, dark place, it's difficult to come back up again, to be useful in the least. That saying made me think about how pitiful I often am or feel or behave. It made me reconsider my attitude in the midst of my situation.

Not one part of my current circumstances (with regards to recurrent birth loss) makes me happy -- but am I allowing it to make me holy?

Holy, by definition:

1. specially recognized as or declared sacred by religious use or authority; consecrated.
2. dedicated or devoted to the service of God, the church, or religion.
3. saintly; godly; pious; devout.
4. having a spiritually pure quality.
5. entitled to worship or veneration as or as if sacred.
6. religious.
7. inspiring fear, awe, or grave distress.
8. (noun) a place of worship; sacred place; sanctuary.

Where am I spiritually after every trying month of trying? How do I love God and serve others after yet another negative pregnancy test? What about after a painful and humiliating exam? Does my doctor know that I'm trusting God? Am I even trusting God? And then, what if I do conceive? Am I then suddenly more spiritual, more pious? Probably not. I'm more consumed my fear and worry, made certain by yet one more loss*. And then, how worshipful am I? Sadly, not worshipful enough. Same story, told again.

Even though I know Biblical truths about God and His love and mercy, and the enemy and his wily ways, I still choose to project my pain onto God, blaming Him for not doing things the way I thought they should have been done. And then I allow that sort of self-induced sorrow to spill over into other areas of my life, other pursuits, and I think God will be found unfaithful there, as well. Another blogger brought it all back to my attention. She wrote this in a post:

"My mother in law and I flew to Missouri in July and I wanted to ask God soooo bad to keep us safe, but I was so scared that if I did, that the exact opposite would happen. I have had a couple of other moments that I wanted to ask for something along those lines, but stopped because I was way to scared that it would jinx me."

James and I have been discussing and exploring the adoption option, and while he's been gung ho for quite some time, I've resisted for this very reason. With our history (and not just the history of complicated pregnancies and birth loss, but also our very challenging adoption experience with Bub), I'm quite convinced we'll be the family who never gets picked to parent someones baby.

Though we're stable people in a loving marriage who long to serve God, though we're parents who spoil children to the point where they emit a nefarious odor (all the while keeping them on the straight and narrow), though we have room in both our home and our hearts, though we have the financial ability to provide for many more children, and though we have a documented case of infertility (which is a requirement for some agencies), we will not be picked. Because I'm crazy, and full of doubt.

Listen, I don't have any idea what in the world we're meant to do here on this Earth with regards to children and/or having any more. I feel like this is the one area where I consistently have a bag pulled over my head. But I do know that God has a heart for adoption, and adoption has always been near and dear to our hearts -- even before we adopted our first child.

We've always been open to and excited about adoption, but there was a plan -- we'd have a few and then adopt. (You know, cause we're so in the know and have our five-year plan all written out and such.) Instead, we began our parenting by adoption (well, by fostering, then giving birth, and then adopting, which really is a whole chicken/egg debate in and of itself).

When we adopted first, our plan changed to just include that -- we'll adopt first (because we already had), have a few, then adopt again. Until our attorney at the time offered two more children who were becoming legally free. Then we prayed about it, brought our family up to speed, agreed on the matter, and began to move forward with our adoption worker when the director of the shelter the children lived in said we couldn't "pick and choose." And then we were back to having a few before another adoption.

After birthing one biological child, we spent the next several years working on or being available to the continuation of that part of that plan. Yet still being the parents of just two children on Earth, we feel like it's either time to move on to the adoption phase again, or to just move on altogether.

At this point, there's nothing to report, other than the fact that we're considering our options. We've talked to a couple of people in the know. We've read a few adoption blogs. We're calling agencies for brochures. We're narrowing the field with respect to domestic and international adoptions. We're talking about having a home study done just in case.

I embrace this new challenge, and am willing to wholeheartedly consider it completely. I might even be willing to do something about it -- time will tell. But even as I move forward in this potential new venture, I know how I want to end it. Perhaps even more than I hope to come out of this consideration with a baby in my arms, I hope to come out of it holy.

"Always be joyful. Never stop praying.
Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will
for you who belong to Christ Jesus.
Do not stifle the Holy Spirit.
Do not scoff at prophecies, but test everything that is said.
Hold on to what is good.
Stay away from every kind of evil.
Now may the God of peace make you holy in every way,
and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless
until our Lord Jesus Christ comes again.
God will make this happen, for he who calls you is faithful."
-- I Thesselonians 5:16-24 NLT


"... I’m not asking you to take them out of the world,
but to keep them safe from the evil one.
They do not belong to this world any more than I do.
Make them holy by your truth; teach them your word, which is truth."
-- Jesus' Prayer, in John 17:15-17


"Lift up holy hands in prayer, and praise the Lord."
-- Psalm 134:2

* Just to be clear, I've not had another loss. I'm still at four, not more.

** photo credit: Celebrity Baby Blog

We Turn Eight!

In honor of our eighth wedding anniversary,
here is a list of eight things I love and/or appreciate about James.

** James is a Godly man. One of the things that first attracted me to James was his desire to know and love God. Different things about James and his personality have changed over these last many years, but this one thing has never changed. James loves God and longs to be like Jesus, and I know with absolute certainty that there is no better quality under the sun.

** James is an excellent husband. Long before I ever became a married woman, I had an idea in my mind of what a good husband would be. Little did I know, I had no idea. At various times in our lives together, I've realized he's much more than I ever knew I needed. James is kind and generous, loving and reliable, funny and compassionate. I thank God for bringing him to me.

** James is a family man. There is no place in the world James would rather be than somewhere with his family. A slight disadvantage to this is that his friends often think I'm keeping him home or somewhere else with us, when that is not at all the case. However, that disadvantage is far outweighed by the fact that he loves to spend time with us, just to be with us.

** James is an incredible provider. He works hard and without complaint to make sure we have all we need and much of what we want. He works long hours, spends a lot of time in traffic, travels often -- all for us. Fortunately, James loves his job and finds great satisfaction in his work, but I believe he works as diligently as he does as a sacrifice for us.

** James is an amazing father. James is not a perfect father, just as I am not a perfect mother, but he loves his kids deeply and makes them a priority. He is diligent to spend one-on-one time with both Bub and Gracie cultivating their relationship, and helping them to understand just how special and loved they are. His qualities and capabilities as a dad make me long even more for that "quiver full" of children.

** James is exceedingly generous. James gives of himself and of his resources without question. More than once, he's opened his heart, his home, his checking account to others in our life. He has given hours and hours and hours to others who struggle with various habits and hangups. He didn't hesitate when we had the opportunity to adopt Bub. He didn't hesitate when we had the privilege of taking in Chelsea. He doesn't complain when our house is filled with people and our pantry is rapidly depleted. He actively looks for ways to give.

** James is devoted. Primarily, James is devoted to God; secondarily, to me. Beyond that, he expresses intense devotion to a few select things -- to our children, to our church, to our extended family, to our ministry opportunities, to his job. When he sets his heart towards something, he is completely devoted to it in an unswerving, unmovable way, and I respect him deeply for it.

** James is the love of my life. Before James, I missed out on a lot of love. I came from a very complicated family situation where love and affection wasn't really available, and followed that with dating relationships with men who were quite self-centered. From the time that he knew he loved me, James has never been shy or reluctant to express that to me, and his tenderness towards me has brought healing to very deep wounds in my heart. Throughout the course of our lives together, we've had ups and downs and dramatic challenges, but whether through actions or by spoken words, James consistently reminds me of his unending love.

Happy Anniversary, James!
Here's hoping you can stand me for eight or eighty more years!

Father's Day in Aggieland

For Father's Day, James decided he wanted to go to College Station. We primarily go down during football season, but his brother's new Chick-fil-A franchise was finished in the spring and a construction delay prevented us from making it to the opening. James felt like it's been long enough, so he took off a couple of hours early on Friday, we hit the road, and we drove straight to Freebirds to meet Jerald for dinner.

On Saturday morning, we visited the restaurant. Then, we took the kids to Research Park on campus because second to our teaching them about the Lord Jesus Christ, we teach them about Aggie tradition.

At least our priorities are in order, right?

Uncle Jerald's Chick-fil-A


Raising 'em Right.


Wherein I decide to compress a couple of vertebrae...


Comparing Puppy Dogs

From there, we went to see Kung Fu Panda at a new-ish and super cheap movie theatre (so cheap, in fact, that Chelsea and I went back later to see The Happening -- a movie worth little more than the $4 we spent to see it). Let me just say that I LOVE Jack Black as an animated panda and I laughed louder and harder than any kid in the theatre. That's right -- I'm not ashamed of my seven-year-old sense of humor.

Afterwards, we drove out to the winery where James worked when we met. We've not been out in over eight years, so it was nice to see how much the property has grown and how much it's stayed the same. The kids were quite disinterested in all of our recollections, but they had a great time taunting the turtles in the pond. Before we left, we had a chance to visit with the winemaker and his wife and to update one another on our respective lives.

Later that day, the writer of a blog I stalk commented here (and on her blog) saying that she spotted me in the gift shop, which was pretty distressing considering that I spent at least 43% of my time there yelling at my kids. (All vocal elevation was meant to protect children and turtles, and while she promises she didn't hear any yelling, I'm pretty sure she's just being nice.)



We went back to the house where Jerald pulled out the smoker and made dinner for us all. While the menfolk cooked, we messed around in the cow car.

Bub's Frightening Attempt at a Funny Face


Brotherly Love

We came home again on Sunday, but not before James opted for Freebirds again for lunch. Once home, he spent his Father's Day afternoon alternating between hanging out with the kids and dozing on the couch with the US Open on in the background. Happy Father's Day, James! We love and appreciate you!

Mechanical Problems

Recently, airlines began grounding planes after safety oversights became public. Southwest did it. American and Delta did it. Fortunately, all the various companies wasted no time in righting the safety wrongs just in time for James' busy travel week, however, with tornado sirens blaring today, James called with concerns that his flight would be cancelled. It was not. The weather cleared just in time.

Though James beat the weather today, and though all major repairs have supposedly been made on his preferred airline, James' flight was delayed after all for a "mechanical repair." All the passengers boarded, but were delayed on the tarmac as the problem was discovered. Then the passengers were unloaded and left to wait in the terminal for two hours before finally being reboarded and allowed to take-off.

Despite the fact that earlier this month planes were rocketing through the air with wiring problems and cracks in the fuselage, some things are completely unacceptable for air travel:

The toilet roll holder wasn't working properly and had to be replaced.

Promotion

Let it be widely known and proclaimed throughout the entire universe that my husband has gotten a promotion, effective today. Yippee! Well, the internal paperwork is official today, and payment on the promotion begins when three more contracts are officially signed by the doctors and hospitals who have agreed to placement arrangements. So, though his paycheck won't be affected until the contracts are in, the pay on the placements will be retroactive to today. Yippee! (James is a physician recruiter who places doctors from all over in opportunities in the upper-midwestern portion of the U.S.)

He's been working towards this natural internal promotion for a while now, and was 1/2 a placement away from meeting the goal a couple of months ago. Unfortunately, because the way the placement credit works, when he didn't get that 1/2, he had to place another three for promotion qualification. (He couldn't just have a 1/2 placement credit the next month to qualify.)

That's as confusing as can be, I know. The organization of his company, which is totally legitimate, is arranged similarly to an MLM scheme, the legitimacy of which is highly questionable. He's tried to explain the pay structure to me in detail several times, leaving me to reply, "just tell me when you'll bring home more money." My friends, that time is now.

This month, several doctors took the jobs he had to offer, so at one fell swoop, he's been promoted and will be given a very attractive commission check at the end of March. After that, our monthly income will increase by about 20%. What a tremendous and undeniable blessing!!

"Then Peter replied,
“I see very clearly that God shows no favoritism."
Acts 10:34 NLT

"And my God will meet all your needs
according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus."
Philippians 4:19 NIV

"...it will be given to you.
A good measure, pressed down,
shaken together and running over,
will be poured into your lap."
Luke 6:38b NIV

"For God does not show favoritism."
Romans 2:11 NLT

New Grill for a New Year

James was given a new grill for Christmas, which means he will now be cooking dinner. That, my friends, is a gift to us all.

Me, assembling the grill in my pajamas. How lovely.


James, posing by the grill (in his pajamas)
so people will think he helped with the assembly.
Just kidding. He helped -- a little.

Working Brakes

Today I was having lunch with my friend DeDe when James called my cell phone to say he had arrived in New York safely. "Oh, good," I said, as I stuffed another bite of salad in my mouth. "But I'm not at LaGuardia," he said. "I was rerouted to JFK."

"Oh?" Chomp, chomp, chomp.

"Yeah, evidently there was a brake problem and they thought the plane wouldn't make it on the shorter runways."

Pause. "Is it that bad -- the brake problem?"

"I guess it's worse than I thought. All the other planes weren't moving when we landed and we were met with a bunch of emergency vehicles covering our runway. I guess they thought we might crash."

Pause again. "Well, honey. I'm glad you're safe."

"Yeah, me too."

We finished our conversation with affection and goodbyes and I relayed the events to DeDe, who was so incredulous at my remaining calm. Inside, though, I felt far less calm. Inside, I couldn't believe the conversation I'd had. Though my James was totally safe, today was a reminder that he was a few yards short of being completely unsafe, of possibly being dead.

We're prepared for the absence of safety. Our policies are in order and we call our insurance guy by his first name. Because of the absolute lack of security in our lives, I'm furiously finishing my degree so that I may be more valuable if I'm called on to provide financially. (Now watch, it will be me who goes first. On my way to graduation, I bet.) We know that our days are numbered and our number could be called at any time, and so we prepare to go and plan for those we'll leave behind.

Regardless of any preparation, I'll never be ready for James to die.

He said he tried to call me from the plane. He said when the pilot let them know of the problem with the breaks and the change of course, he tried to call me while in the air. That's not a call I want. I don't want the "I'm going to die / I'm dying / I'm dead" phone call. (Even though the "I'm dead" one would be quite a feat.) I just don't know how I could be alone, and I'm not sure I want advanced warning -- though I have given him permission to call if he actually will end up dead. (Isn't that big of me?)

After lunch, DeDe and I took the kids to see Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium , a movie about a magical man who ran an even more magical toy store. ((SPOILER ALERT!)) When he was ready to "depart" (as in die), he planned to hand the store off to its manager, a piano prodigy named Molly. Molly argued with Mr. M, telling him he couldn't depart because she thought she couldn't run the store on account of her losing her "sparkle." He died anyway and on she went until all was right and well on the Earth, a happy ending ensued, and the plot was appropriately set for a sequel. I realized then that's alot of what I feel abut James. Beyond the obvious loving him and missing him and not wanting him to be among a wrecked fuselage, James is my Mr. M who cannot die on account of my missing sparkle. And real life doesn't necessarily come with that happy ending.

I feel like I'm missing that thing that once made me me, and I'm not sure if it's retrievable. Everything in my life feels half done: incomplete scrapbooks, an unfinished degree, an unkempt garage, an uninteresting memoir. (Haha.) If James died, I would be a very half of who I presently am. I know realistically that I could survive if James died. I'm a survivor. But I don't want to be in that position out of necessity -- making it because I have to.

I have no interest in bringing home the bacon. I prefer to go shopping for the bacon with a coupon on triple value day. If I return to the workforce, I prefer it to be as a result of a choice we make together, affording us the opportunity to share an even more valuable slab of pork, or vacation, or home, or whatever. James works hard in a job he loves and is suited to and we both enjoy my staying at home to meet our respective needs here. Years ago, I could have never imagined that I would enjoy domesiticity, but I do. James seems to enjoy providing the opportunity for me to be at home, and equally enjoys the benefits that arrangement provides him and our family.

More than that, James is an extraordinary father. He loves his children so deeply, and takes such great pride in them. He plays with them, creates with them, and spoils them quite badly. He admonishes them and corrects them. He trains, teaches, and guides them. He prays for them, prays with them, and shows them how to pray. Of children, he deserves a quiver full, which is a great deal of the frustration I feel as I am unable to provide more. As a father, he cannot be replaced.

And even more than that, he's an amazing husband. Beyond the fact that he cares for me and for our family in such a tangible way, he meets needs in me I never knew I had. As a very small example, Christmas night was very difficult for me. We'd had a houseful of people for several days, but by Christmas night, we were totally alone. It felt very empty-nester-ish seeing as how our kids were with their Nanny, and our house was quiet and babyless, though little ones had been doled out in abundance all around us. The blues were blacker than blue and the air was heavier than normal. I intended to retreat inwardly, but James, my James, called me out and met me in a comforting way. That's one time out of millions that my husband has behaved towards me in a Christlike manner.

I don't ever want the call that he's gone.
I don't ever want to walk the Earth without him.
Thanks be to the Living God for brakes that function properly.

"My beloved is mine, and I am his..."
Song of Solomon 2:16a KJV

Playing Webkinz

Bub got his first Webkinz last weekend from his friend Jack in honor of his 7th birthday. We made him wait to play the online portion until this weekend when all the holiday company was gone. (We didn't know how it all worked and wanted nothing to get lost.) Sunday, we got them all set up, and the kids have enjoyed playing the computer portion of Webkinz immensely. James has been upstairs alot "helping" them.

Tonight, as the kids are sleeping, I'm on the laptop and hear a whirring and general-noisemaking on the computer behind me.

"James, what are you doing?" I ask.
He replies in all seriousness, "I'm playing Webkinz. Is that ok?"

You know, I'm not sure if it is.

He says he's just playing the games that are allowed once daily because the kids forget to take advantage of them, but I don't know. It sounds like more than that going on. Maybe I know now what to buy him for Christmas -- a Webkinz friend of his very own!

Shopping for Bargains

I mentioned the flea market in my painting post, and realized I forgot to mention our outing last weekend. My mom took my kids Friday through Sunday, so on Saturday, James and I went to the Fort Worth Flea Market for the first time. It was surprisingly good! The environment was eclectic, there were so many great deals, and I would have driven myself into ruin if I drove a bigger car. Even more importantly, there was not one sock dealer in the whole entire place!

I bought lots of pretty little things, and I think the weekend after Thanksgiving I may go back to see if a chair and table I loved remain. (Again, there was a space issue in my car, but I now have a standing invitation to use a friend's truck.) James looked at baseball cards and bought movies. We both had a great day.

Crazy Deals from a Crazy Man

One Big Happy Boy

Look Ma, No Kids!

Business Time

The Essence of Married Life

(Just Kidding... Or Am I?)

Can't do what you do...

Today, I was talking to James. Just a general conversation, but one that bears recording. One that really should be put into writing so I can remind him of it later when I am underestimated. Hence the blog...

James: How was your day?

Me: Oh, good. Yours?

James: Good, I put up another doctor.

Me: Yea, that's great! Congratulations!

James: What about you? What did you do?

Me: Oh, not too much. I ran to the grocery store, and did a couple of things at the kids' school. Then, I came home, read three chapters for my Public Speaking Class and took a quiz. After that, I read seven Petrarch Sonnets, and am trying to decide which one I like best and am willing to interpret and write a paper on tonight. (Insert general complaints about Sonnets and an explanation of how they are my least favorite literary form.) When the kids got home, I made snacks, took Gracie to Ballet, read some more while waiting for her and watching Bub, came home, made dinner, had a three-way cuddle on my bed while watching a Dora DVD, handled baths, and I'm now reading a Russian Tragi-Comedy while the kids finish their nighttime reading before bed.

James: I could never do what you do.

Happy Birthday Morning

Today is James' birthday -- he turned 37. This random number seemed like a big year for him, and it didn't make sense to me at all until I read his blog last night. (No, that's not the only way we communicate.) James' dad turned 37 when James was ten and that was the first time James ever remembers thinking that his dad was old. Now, he's reached that milestone in his own life, and it evidently is not fun. He's not dismal and depressed or anything, just a little extra pensive that life is marching on. On the upside, it is lovely to grow older with such a lovely man.

The Birthday Boy and His Babies

To celebrate, the kids and I bought huge Banana Nut birthday muffins and shared our gifts before work today. James' brother has given him four tickets to the A&M/OSU game tomorrow night, so we leave right after work today to go back to College Station -- thus, the birthday breakfast. Because of our busy schedule and A&M football, this year, muffin = cake.

Blowing Out the Candles

Muffins as Big as Your Head -- Yummy!

He blew out the candles while we sang "Happy Birthday," and for gifts he got a weekend watch from me, and chocolates, pictures, and golf tees from the kids. The kids choose their own gifts with great care and utter selfishness. Gracie chose the chocolates because Daddy always shares treats. Bub chose the golf tees because he loves going to the driving range with James. The pictures are of the kids at their first Aggie football game.

Gifts Galore

Happy Birthday, Blook.
May your next 37 be more spectacular than your first!

Man Tag

Amy tagged me. Here goes.

1. Who is your man? James
2. How long have you been together? 9 years (7 married)
3. How long did you date? appx. 2 years
4. How old is your man? 37 on Friday
5. Who eats more? He does.
6. Who said "I love you" first? He did.
7. Who is taller? He is.
8. Who sings better? Me.
9. Who is smarter? Me, but he'll deny it.
10. Whose temper is worse? Mine. By far.
11. Who does the laundry? Me.
12. Who takes out the garbage? Me, but he pulls the cans to the curb.
13. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? He does.
14. Who pays the bills? We both do. We have our respective responsibilities.
15. Who is better with the computer? He's better at fixing it. I'm better at using it.
16. Who mows the lawn? We both do. He does mostly, but I do if I'm stressed out.
17. Who cooks dinner? Me.
18. Who drives when you are together? Shared, but more often me.
19. Who pays when you go out? Shared, but more often him.
20. Who is most stubborn? Me, and I refuse to change my answer.
21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? Me.
22. Whose parents do you see the most? Mine.
23. Who kissed who first? He did.
24. Who asked who out? I don't remember. We just sort of ended up together.
25. Who proposed? No one. Again, we just sort of ended up together.
26. Who is more sensitive? Depends. Generally me, but if the Aggies lose, then it's him.
27. Who has more friends? Me, but I share mine.
28. Who has more siblings? Me, I have three. He has one.
29. Who wears the pants in the family? He does. Thank God.

My Husband, My Friend

A couple of chapters back in Hannah's Hope, the author was talking about how infertility and recurrent loss can be a breeding ground for infidelity in a marriage. Even without infidelity, this kind of heartbreak can be the catalyst for a marriage-end. I was so stunned to read that, because in our three years of childbearing struggle, James and I have done nothing if not grown closer.

James and I married at not-so-young ages. In retrospect, we were young, but compared to our friends and families who married in their teens or in early college, we were late bloomers. (I was newly 24 and James was two months shy of being 30.) Our first years were really great -- we were young and in love, but old enough to be stable with good jobs and a Ramen-free diet. A month after our one year anniversary, we took in Bub. Three weeks later, we found out I was pregnant with Gracie. We had our ups and downs, our highs and lows, our triumphs and troubles, but all in all, things were good.

When we moved to Texas over three years ago, things changed briefly. We relocated here for James to work for a ministry in Texas, and took a pay cut to do so. After being here for several months adapting to less (a lot less), things got hard. We struggled at times -- we were broke (took a paycut, then went through a layoff, then took a commission-based job that took a long time to turn a profit), we were crowded (two adults and two rambunctious children in a two bedroom apartment for two years), and nothing was the way we thought it should be. There were some heated "discussions" during those times, and I'm ashamed to say it, but the D-Word was tossed around a time or two. Mostly by me. I have (or rather, had) issues.

Those things stabilized pretty quickly, and we realized that volatility was because of the pressure of stress. We resumed our normal effective communication, and at that point began to pursue in earnest the growth of our family. And the journey began:

Months and months of struggle, followed by a pregnancy, ended in loss. Another months and months of struggle, followed by a pregnancy, ended in another loss. Then, a quick and miraculous pregnancy, followed by stability and safety, ended in death. Then a surgery and a wait, another pursuit, pregnancy, struggle, and loss.

When I read the chapter in Hannah's Hope, I wondered when either of us during all of that would have had time to pursue something extra maritally. Her point was that "failures" in childbearing lead to the feelings of a failure in a gender identity, and I get that. I do sometimes feel like less of a woman because my body defies motherhood. It was in that, she said, that some people will seek out the confirmation of their identity, someone to validate their being a woman or a man. Or they'll seek out someone with whom to have sex where there are no strings of shame or pain or guilt or disappointment. That I can also understand. I don't support it, but I guess I can see how that could happen.

But not with us.

The amazing thing about this struggle -- about this whole series of struggles -- is that it has bound us closer together and more deeply than I could have ever imagined.

Before we got married, some friends pulled me to the side to make sure I knew what I was doing. James and I were so absolutely not alike. I had been to Bible School. I had lived on the mission field. I ran a Christian Coffee House and was a booking agent for alternative Christian Bands. My nose was pierced, my tongue was pierced, and my hair was three different colors. (Not on our wedding day, but they had been.)

James was an Aggie -- need I say more? He had a Corps-like haircut, liked country music, drove a sedan and was a salesman. He knew how to line dance, had worked on a farm, and owned an actual pair of cowboy boots. Real ones -- not the fake ones.

There couldn't be two more different people on the face of the earth, and yet we were perfect for one another.

Compromise:
His hair is longer, and I wear maroon.

I am so grateful to have James. Through all of our time together, including that really volatile season, he has been steadfast and reliable. He is so kind and generous to me, to our children, to my family and his own, to our friends, and to those we minister. He is an example of Godliness in his job, and has had the opportunity to successfully defend his morals and convictions several times. He has also had the opportunity to stumble, and to make himself an example of grace because of it.

I miss him when he's gone, and love it when he comes home again.
I anxiously await his phone calls every day.
I genuinely laugh at his jokes, though sometimes they really are dumb.
I love how he behaves with the children. He will both teach and be taught.
I appreciate the sacrifice he makes for me and for our family.
I respect him deeply as a Man of God.

He is my reality TV buddy. We love all the same shows.
He is the reason I not only tolerate football, but truly enjoy it. (Gig 'em, Ags!)
He has been my shoulder to cry on, and I have been his.
He is my #2 in the "Where two or more are gathered in my name" promise.
He doesn't judge me when I'm psycho, but loves me until I become sane again.
He is the true head of our household and our family, and leads us well.
He is the seeker of God's will for all our lives.
He is both my husband and my friend.

God knew what He was doing when he brought us together. He had a plan when He orchestrated this impossible connection. There have been lots of others in and out of our respective lives, but there has been no one for either of us that would have stood by in times like the ones we've had. In all of this trouble, there was never a time that we thought to cast one another aside, but rather, we were knit together with a strong, unbreakable thread. Together, we are bound; heart and soul, we are truly one.

"The wife's body does not belong to her alone but also to her husband. In the same way, the husband's body does not belong to him alone but also to his wife." 1 Corinthians 7:4

"A woman is bound to her husband as long as he lives." 1 Corinthians 7:39

"Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her." Ephesians 5:25

"Husbands, in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives, and treat them with respect as the weaker partner and as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life, so that nothing will hinder your prayers." 1 Peter 3:7