Andy & Brittney

Prayers and Love

2011-12-21T10:18:00.000-08:00

... and my heart so filled with mixed emotion. Go to my photography blog to read about

Distressed Painted Wall Shelf

2011-12-14T09:17:00.000-08:00

Domestically Speaking is hosting the weekly Power of Paint Party today. I decided I better jump on the ban wagon for once since I do have a little painty project that I did recently and thought it was utterly fun and turned out cute, in my own humble opinion which has never claimed to be professional.

Let the record show that I am a vintage/antique/chic-y sort of freakazoid, which is entirely convenient due to the fact that it can be a very budget-friendly sort of decor style. I am also the type of person who cuts every corner she can find and uses what happens to be on hand, and sometimes that is a good thing while other times it is a bad thing. That's my disclaimer about why the following project is not created the way a professional would recommend and you may not want to do it the way I did it if you so happen to decide you're going to do such a project.

ALL THAT TO SAY:

BEHOLD THE BEFORE!

I am actually not exactly sure where I acquired this wall shelf. Probably for mere pennies on the dollar at Goodwill. My memory also fails as to what purpose I had in mind for this. My husband found it in my decor stash when he came home from Iraq and used it as a sort of make shift pistol display in his man cave. He dismantled it (he thought the metal piece with the stars was too cute-sie), pounded nails in various places for added support. When he no longer had a purpose for it, I nearly tossed it since it had seen its use and definitely showed it.

But then, I decided to hang on to it since Jimmy's room was taking on a sort of stars theme when I made him a crib set and incorporated some of Andy's old ACU's in it.

So, I went down to the basement, removed the hardware, found me a can of semi gloss wall paint, and a stiff, ratty paint brush and set to work.... (that sentence right there proves that I can't even try to claim to be a professional even if I wanted to!)

It took several coats (which is why it technically should have been primed), but that was ok. I had a work space set up in the basement so I could leave my project and take my time with it. The final finish was not necessarily something one would call smooth and sleek. It may have even been a little streaky. But that was all a part of my plan...

After that final coat was dry, I pulled out my nifty little fine-grain sand paper and applied some elbow grease to get this result:

My heart has a tendency to go pitter patter over distressed wood.

Once I achieved the look I was going for, I reassembled the hardware and hung it up on the wall in Jimmy's room.

Voila!

(Interesting tid bit: the "1" candle was the candle we used for Jimmy's birthday cake. It was also his daddy's first birthday cake candle. We will keep it for Jimmy's first child's first birthday... And that's what you call thinking waaaaay ahead.)

(train--$0.75 at a garage sale last summer. My heart skips a beat over wooden toys!)

So there you have it! My painting project for the year. My New Year's resolution is something along the lines of being a creative junkie / painting guru / crafty super mom / or something.

Linking this to my homemaker heroes and virtual mentors ::

Is It Really Odd?

2011-12-14T00:00:00.000-08:00

Is it really odd that I absolutely adore the little evidences-of-himself my son leaves all over the house, even when I have just cleaned it?

Is it really odd that I totally don't care that any drawer or cupboard within Jimmy's reach is not nor ever will be in perfect organized condition (not that the cupboards out of his reach are... ahem. I never claimed to be a perfect housekeeper!) and I kind of actually think it's cute?

Is it really odd that I--the one who used to think childrens' toys belong only in playrooms or nurseries--think his little car wash is absolutely adorable and goes quite nicely in the family/living/man cave room??

Is it really odd that I purposefully leave his footwear on the rug just because it looks so stinking CUTE??

I do know that it is NOT really odd that I adore being his mommy....... Who wouldn't??

November Remembered

2011-12-12T00:00:00.000-08:00

Migrating Geese

Puppy Love

Jimmy's Constant Companion

Thanksgiving Portraiture. (I didn't quite make it into the self-timed picture.) Epic.

Baby Sign Language

2011-12-10T10:36:00.001-08:00

Today I am over at my photography blog talking about baby sign language.
I do not claim to be an expert, I just wanted to share my experience so far with Jimmy and encourage other parents to utilize this great avenue of communicating with their small children.
It is so fool proof, so easy, so fun to watch them learn, and waaaay tooooo cute.

.....Promise.
..........Cross my heart.
...............Pinky swear.

Go over and have a look and please tell me what you think!

Let's Talk Baby Talk!

Deer Hunting

2011-12-08T14:08:00.001-08:00

So there we were... Gun season. Jimmy, who normally sleeps until about 9 am had everyone up and at 'em by 5. The hunters got ready, had coffee, gave Jimmy kisses and left. Jimmy went back to bed. Me? I had coffee, and more coffee and some more coffee.

Two monster bucks down before 9am. It was profitable for the hunters.

Jimmy and me? Well, we just snuggled and were lazy and stuff.

Love That Man

2011-11-19T05:33:00.001-08:00

I love my husband.

I love spending time with him.

I love that his job allows us to be together a lot... usually.

I love that we don't get sick of each other.

I love that he loves having coffee with me.

I love our life together.

I love that if ever there was a perfect marriage, it's ours.

I love that he would much rather I ignore house work when he's around.

I love that he changes my facebook status every chance he gets to say cute things about me

(it's embarrassing and endearing all at the same time).

I love that he loves our little boy.

I love the look in his eyes when he watches Jimmy accomplish something new.

I love the way they play together.

I love his random gestures of sweetness.

I love that he thinks I'm beautiful.

I love that he loves me.

I am so blessed.

This post was originally composed in my head to explain how I love mornings like this... Calm, beautiful, quiet... The baby is still sleeping, the man is hunting. My phone is buzzing off the hook, as they say, with text messages about the 10-pointer my sister got... An eagle is soaring over the lake... The house is clean, my coffee brewed with pumpkin spices is tasty... So to preface my thoughts on such pleasantries due-to-the-man-being-gone this early morning, I was going to make sure everyone understood how I adore him. And then, I couldn't stop. And at the end of it, I am missing him... Here's to hoping he gets a 12-point monster or bigger.

EDITED TO ADD: within 45 minutes of Hannah shooting her buck, Andy got himself a large 9-pointer. Not quite as big as Hannah's, but the rack was wider and if you're like me and have no idea what that has to do with coolness, just trust me. I think that makes it close to being almost as cool as Hannah's. Though, Hannah's still has his beat by approximately 10 inches in the scoring. If you don't know what that means, don't feel bad. I didn't either until recently. I just may put a photo up of the two of them later....

Thinking About It

2011-11-15T13:46:00.001-08:00

My house smells like baking pumpkins and a dirty oven. Ahh... So cozy and Autumn-ish. But I think I am going to need to quit putting off cleaning that oven since I am really tired of setting off that darn fire alarm. The last of the six loads of laundry is in the process of being folded and making me feel virtuous and on top of things (although, if you think about it, SIX loads of laundry for a family of three attributes to a great supply of procrastination around these parts).

If we're being honest here (which clearly we are considering I just admitted my faults which include dirty, dirty ovens and Mount Washmore as they say--among a host of other things I didn't mention, but that would cost me all day and possibly an appointment with a therapist at the end of it), I would have to say that the thought does frequently cross my mind in what this blog is really all about. Is it just me, or does it flounder?

It flounders, don't even lie.

I happen to believe that the things we do should have a purpose to them. God created us with a purpose in mind, and it is up to us to live to the hilt what He wants us to be. And there I go preaching a sermon as a big fat hypocrite. But really, as in life we frequently wonder, what is our purpose? What are we here to do? How do we better the lives of our future generation? Thus I wonder about my blogging. Is there a purpose for it? If so, what? ...Should I keep it as a neglected online journal of-sorts, documenting the life and times of our little family? BOOORing. ...Should I use it for recipes, crafts, DIY projects? Um, me? the expert of NOTHING??? ...Should I give it up? Yep. I just asked that. I DON'T KNOW I DON'T KNOW I DON'T KNOW! What do you think?

You see, part of my hang-up with the whole thing is that I have changed so much in the last several years, as anyone who has known me for any length of time can attest to. That's what happens when truth meets grace and you know freedom. But what's more, I still am changing. The metamorphosis stage has been a long one for me. Therefore I'm uncertain with the outflow of my heart and mind. Folks, I'm still getting to know me.... And that's what happens when you don't know how to grab on to grace.

And then on the more practical side of things, somehow now that I'm a mom on top of being an aspiring photographer, homemaker (maybe I should put 'aspiring' in front of that word too. Haha.), and most of all wife, my free time for pleasantries such as blogging is so minimal. Nap times only last so long!

So this is me being real and candid with you. I'm not sure if blogging is supposed to be my thing. I'm pretty sure if I wasn't me, I wouldn't even follow my blog. I'm so open to suggestions. How do I set this blog apart from other blogs? What makes me unique?

While you think about, it let me move on to lighter topics since I'm in the mood to be random (although, if you're anything like me you would have quit reading a few paragraphs ago since there's not even a photo in this post. Yet.)...

Guess what? JIMMY IS WALKING! Last Saturday he got up from a four hour nap and took a step. Within a couple hours, he was walking all the way across the living room. It was a grand feat, and I was tickled to death for a couple reasons....a.) I'm so happy for him.You can just see it in his eyes, he loves this new mode of transportation. b.) Andy and I had bet back rubs about this topic the weekend before--I said he would be walking by the end of that week, and Andy said he would be walking by the end of the next week.With mere hours left on the clock for my bet, I was sure I had lost. But my boy came through for me! Ha.

Veteran's Day was a special day. I'm so proud to be married to an American hero. Seriously. You have no idea. Said-hero took this girl out on the town that day. A day-long DATE with Mr. Sexy Handsome! Yessss! A pair of Vietnam vets at Applebee's apparently took a liking to us and paid our bill. How sweet is that?

Deer hunting gun season is nearly here. That means there will be lots of just Jimmy and me time... And some girl time with my sister in-law Anna and baby niece Kailyn... And perhaps some extra blogging time. I don't know. It will hopefully be fun and not too lonely.

With every bit of that said, me thinks it is time to wrap this up. I am pretty sure the batteries in the fire alarm need to be changed. It should have gone off long ago....

Our One Year-Old

2011-11-15T09:23:00.001-08:00

11::11::11

2011-11-11T07:44:00.000-08:00

I will never forget the day Andy left for Iraq. I was heartbroken.

And then I saw all the heart-broken children around me, begging their daddies not to leave. It made my insides hurt.

SAYING GOODBYE

The day Andy came home I was beyond euphoric.

And then I saw all the excited children. My heart melted. I was so happy for them. Their daddies made it home. Safe. And they threw their arms around their daddies' necks and kissed them and cried on their shoulders with joy.

DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!

Today I remember our veterans. I'm grateful for them. I think of their families... their sweethearts, their children.

I also remember the fallen. I pray for their sweethearts and their children. My heart aches for them.

I don't forget. I will never forget.

Pinterested

2011-11-07T13:18:00.000-08:00

Shortly after my discovery and addiction to Pinterest, I promptly told you about all of its awesomeness. The trap with Pinterest, however, is you could literally spend hours pinning all sorts of wonderful things and ideas to store away for a future time, but those ideas never come into fruition.

Sad.

Because, then all those hours you spend on Pinterest end up being a waste. You have to take some of those ideas and do something with them! And yes, that probably means cutting into the time you spend on Pinterest. But that's a good thing. If you don't, the simple truth of the matter is pinterest is a bad idea for your life.

I did something about it though.

Pinned.

Created.
(and, out of the leftover yarn, the boy got a scarf out of the deal too.)

The Makings of a Monkey Party

2011-11-05T16:16:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, it was apparent that the little monkey was about to have a birthday. Because this monkey was well-loved and, well, had to be so stinking cute, the day could not go by without a monkey-sort of celebration. After all, what monkey doesn't like to party? So while the little monkey and his daddy playfully stayed out of Mommy's way, the festivities were set in motion.

To start out with, it was important that all his favorite peeps would be in attendance. A rough sketch of a monkey face was traced all over cute scrap book paper. They were cut out and made into invitations to send to all the little monkey's relatives in the near-province.

The little monkey had hairs on his head that needed some trimming before the big day. Not very many, mind you, just enough to be un-even.

And then food was made. The little monkey had an aunt that came over and cooked and baked up a storm with his mommy. Bite-sized meatballs, tortilla roll-ups, s'mores on a pretzel, pumpkin cakes and cupcakes... plus his loving grandmas were bringing taco dip and chips, vegetable pizza and yummy, yummy finger jello.

Grandm D came over and decorated monkey cakes. Did they ever turn out cute!

Painstaking, loving work.

Finally! The big fabulous day for the little monkey arrived! Oh the fun!

To show just how much little monkeys can grow in a year... His first outfits...

His first hat and pair of booties.

The little monkey's mommy decided that she needed to start him young on the wondrous delights of chocolate by creating a hot cocoa bar.

Oh the sweet, sweet, sweetness.

And then it was time for the presents.

He almost got lost in them.

"All Done!"

(Opening presents is a big job!)

His favorite::: ONE WHOLE MONKEY CAKE to destroy, obliterate, smash, consume and go bananas over!

Our little monkey gave us one whole happy year, it was the least we could do to give him an entire day to celebrate his wonderful little self.

S'mores on a Pretzel

2011-11-03T15:04:00.000-07:00

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 Tablespoon shortening
coarse graham cracker crumbs
pretzel sticks
large marshmallows

place chocolate chips and shortening in microwave-safe bowl. Microwave for 1 minute. Stir until smooth.
Pierce marshmallows with pretzel sticks. Dip top in chocolate and then in graham cracker crumbs. Place chocolate-side down on wax paper-lined sheet. Refrigerate for 15 minutes, or until set.
Store in air-tight container as pretzels and marshmallows can become stale.

Pumpkin Spice Cupcakes

2011-11-01T14:51:00.000-07:00

Ingredients:
1 18.25 oz. Yellow Cake mix
2 teaspoons pumpkin spice
1 cup 100% Pure Pumpkin (canned or pureed)
2 eggs, beaten
1 cup water

Preheat oven to 350*f. Grease or paper muffin pan.
Sift together cake mix and pumpkin spice. Add pumpkin, eggs and water. Mix until smooth.
Pour batter into muffin pan, filling cups 2/3rds full.
Bake at 350*f 20-25 minutes, or until done.
Let cool. Frost with butter cream frosting.

So simple, so yummolicious!

Linked to:

Balancing Beauty and Bedlam -- Tasty Tuesday

Happy Birthday, Little Man

2011-10-29T11:36:00.000-07:00

Can't believe it's been a whole year, but it was the best year ever. Thanks for filling our lives with so much joy, Jimmy! We love you so much!

Miscarriage: How to Comfort

2011-10-25T22:50:00.000-07:00

It was March 2009. A whole entire dream, something to look forward to, something to love and hold and cherish and hope in... Ended abruptly in a miscarriage that shook me to my core. I deeply, deeply hurt. Each stage of grief was made even worse because my husband was recently deployed. I was an empty shell of a person trying so hard to hold on to what little life I had left in me.

Fortunately for me, I was surrounded by a loving network of friends and family. While sorrows like sea billows were rolling, I was equally overwhelmed by the tremendous support and care I received. I am forever grateful to each and every gesture of compassion and love.

While my memories of that dark stage of my life are mercifully blurred, certain things do stand out. One was this thought that, "Where is the manual of How to Comfort Those in Grief, and how come nobody has read it??" Whether such a manual exists I do not know, but it should. And it seems especially in the case of miscarriage, few really know how to truly be a comfort. They tried, but there were countless times that I just had to tell myself, "Okay, they meant well. They really meant well. They didn't mean that. That's not true. Breathe in, breathe out, say Thanks."

I feel that I am at a stage in my life now where I can write about this because I have experienced the loss, known the pain and have begun to heal. And now I want you to read this, and remember what I say because someday you may be in the shoes my loved ones were in back in 2009, and you will be feeling desperately helpless.

TO MAKE THE HURT GO AWAY

Your friend is hurting. You want to make them feel better. You feel you should say something, but you don't know what. It's ok that you have no words to say!
It's in our nature to hate that feeling of being one hundred twenty thousand billion percent HELPLESS while someone you love is hurting so bad. But the following is so, so important:
You don't have to have anything to say.
In fact, if you think you might have something to say, it's probably best that you not say it. Understand that no amount of words will ever, ever, ever help the pain your friend is experiencing!
You.
Can.
NOT.
Take.
The.
Pain.
Away.
The most comforting thing anybody ever said to me during that time was, "I don't know what to say!" Literally. It made me feel like they were identifying with my pain. They weren't trying to rationalize it, explain it away, or make it better. They were feeling it, and that was like a teeny tiny dose of ibuprofen to my world of hurt.

DEFINITELY WHAT NOT TO SAY

"If it had lived, maybe it would have been a bad person and brought you a lot of hurt."
Really? Am I supposed to jump up and down for joy now since my baby is dead and is sparing me pain??

"At least you know you can get pregnant."
Way to look at the bright side. However, who said I needed to know?

"You didn't eat enough protein."
Suggesting something I could have done differently is like saying, "It's your fault. Your baby is dead because of you."

"You're still young. You will have another baby."
It's not A baby I wanted, it was THAT baby. I loved him. A replacement doesn't make the loss go away.

"There was probably something wrong. It would have been severely deformed or retarded."
And this makes me feel better how?

"God takes care of imperfections."
You're telling my baby wasn't perfect? You think God made a mistake and had to do away with it??

"There comes a point when you just need to suck it up."
You're probably right. But you telling me that postpones that time.

Yes, all this and much, much more well-meaning people said to me or my husband in hopes of making us feel better. That experience made us hesitate to tell anyone of our pregnancy with Jimmy until I was over three months and as far out of the woods of miscarriage as I could be. If you have experienced such a loss, I'm sure you can identify with and certainly add to this list. To those of you who don't know better though.. Just don't. Don't say these things, even if you think them. It's like taking acid and pouring it over a wound.

A COUPLE THINGS THAT YOU MAY SAY

"You're a mommy!"

"You're baby is safe in the arms of Jesus."

"Just think, your baby gets to learn how to walk on streets of gold!"

"It's ok to cry."

"I loved your baby too. I couldn't wait to meet him!"

"I'm crying too."

"I don't know what to say."

WHAT DOES COMFORT

Be there.
Be there to listen, but be ok with silence. Be aware though that sometimes the loss is so great that it becomes tiring and she's willing to take her mind off of it. Talk about something in your life that's cute or sweet. Watch a funny chick flick and eat chocolate. Help her smile, but don't feel bad if she doesn't.

Give a Gift
To demonstrate your sympathy, sending notes, cards and simple gifts means a lot. Care packages, chocolate, inspirational books, appropriate music, flowers... be creative if you want. I received these sorts of gifts and they really touched my heart.

Remember
I'll never forget feeling bitter as that Mother's Day was rolling around. It seemed there were babies and wonderful pregnancies everywhere, but here I was with an empty womb, empty arms and an empty heart. That Sunday morning my sister gave me a beautiful heart-shaped crystal-studded pendant outlining a mother and a baby along with a touching Mother's Day card in which she said I was the best mother she knew. It was so thoughtful, so unexpected... so beautiful. I hardly took that necklace off. It was so precious to me that she remembered my baby.

Be Grateful
If you have children, or a baby, or are pregnant... Don't complain. Really. It seemed like the complaints of the mothers around me echoed relentlessly in my brain... nausea, heart burn, sore back, aches and pains, stop and go labors, sleep-less nights, fussy babies... But all I wanted was to be going through all of that for my baby. Realize how blessed you are. The pain and toils of motherhood are a blessing, because you have a beautiful child to show for it.

DON'T FORGET DAD'S GRIEF

While I referred to the mommy of a loss throughout this post, it is equally important to understand that the daddy hurts just as bad too. Miscarriage is hard for him too. It's the loss of a child in which he had invested so many hopes and dreams in. In some ways, I think it's even more difficult for dads because at least the mom had some sort of connection with the infant whereas the dad's connection is only his awareness of his child's existence. It's not uncommon for them to feel as though they missed out. Much of what I shared here can be applied to the fathers as well.

In closing, miscarriage hurts. Even early miscarriages, or multiple miscarriages. It's a pain that is hard to be understood unless experienced. Your friend knowing you care is the biggest, most meaningful thing you can possibly do. Be sensitive. Any gesture of true love and sympathy goes a long way.

Oops!

2011-10-20T12:01:00.000-07:00

So, if you are subscribed to this blog by some sort of feed, you probably saw the post from the other night that is currently not on the blog. Fear not. It shall return, when it is completed. I'm not sure if I can blame it on my computer with the large mouse pad my hands are constantly tripping over, or if it's some random decision blogger made to just post what I was in the middle of saying, or if I was just getting carried away with typing and accidentally hit just the right buttons (or would that be all the wrong buttons?) that had me staring at the screen that tells me my post has successfully been published.

I feel that what I had to say the other night is important, but there's so much more to it. I have to stew on it and let it simmer for awhile before I can give it to you, and I also need to give it to you in its entirety. So if you're subscribed to me, you can most likely see the sneak peek, but know there is more that's coming. As long as we're talking about it, if you have thoughts you want me to consider, feel free to email me at loveofahero@gmail.com. If you're totally in the dark as to what I'm talking about, it's my thoughts on how to handle a loved one's suffering; particularly in the area of miscarriage.

He's My Pumpy-umpy-umpkin

2011-09-29T09:53:00.000-07:00

And he's 11 months old. How in the WORLD did that happen?

Makes this mama sad, yet at the same time, each and every stage has been more fun than the last.

But it doesn't really matter. As much as I love watching him grow and learn and get cuter, I still want to cry when I look at the photographs of like yesterday, was it? where he's an itsy witsy witsy, WITSY bitsy baby.

But look at him! All grown-up and HANDSOME. Oh my gosh.

He is literally the cutest thing I have ever laid eyes on.

Sometimes I look at him and think, "My word, somebody is so lucky to have such a nice little boy!"

and then I slap myself around a little bit and say, "DOH, you're his mama!"

He's a smart 11 month-old. Very active, very mobile, very curious.

I know the silly boy is fully capable of standing and probably walking and running. But he refuses to even try.

Not that we're pushing him to grow up any faster of course. Ha.

He teaches me so much.

About discovery,

About patience,

About simple pleasures of life.

About being a mom.

About forgiving.

About love.

The one thing that makes me wonder how he could be my child are those eye lashes. Oh my word. Wicked long. Sometimes I just want to put mascara on them.

Definitely not a feature he got from me.

Or maybe that explains what happened to mine.....

But then again, he is his dad's child, and his dad has amazing eye lashes too. Of which I am jealous.

What kind of a wife and mom am I? To be jealous of such things??

I really, really love this boy.

This sweet, adorable, precious little man.

I also adore his handsome, handsome daddy, and feel so lucky and so blessed to wake up every morning with him by my side. Together, as lovers, joint heirs of the grace of life and as completely infatuated parents, we get to raise our sweet son.

Jimmy, you give us so much joy.

We love you so much.

We can't wait to watch you grow, to help you learn, to be your rock.

You're our little man and a cute Pumpy-umpy-umpkin one at that!

Big, slobbery kisses back at you, Mr. Pumpkin Spice.

**And in case anybody might be wondering, he actually is not always so somber. He just gets that way in front of the camera, little stinky butt. Hehe.

****This photo shoot was 100% impromptu. We were out playing in the perfect Autumn, albeit overcast, day and I took special note of the lighting and the pumpkin and the leaves and the really, really super cute boy in his plaid flannel shirt and couldn't resist.

******Double Dog Dare ya to pick a favorite photo.

Do You Pinterest?

2011-09-29T07:13:00.000-07:00

I know I'm waaay behind the band wagon, and I knew I was going to become addicted as soon as I got into it. But wow. Pinterest is Cooler than Cool!

And I'm just getting my feet wet.

I'm sure this isn't the last you will be hearing about Pinterest around here due to the fact that it has become an all-consuming form of pinspiration when I settle down to browse the great and wonderful and sometimes awful world wide web. Can't wait to put it to practical use in my home.

Because Every Dog Needs a Little Boy

2011-09-28T15:23:00.000-07:00

Meet LeBeau:

His middle name is Dork, or it should be anyway.

Once upon a time he was lonely and little boy-less. It made him sad. He was a sad dork.

And then came the day that he met the Jimmy.

It was love. Love at first sight. LeBeau felt as though this little boy that came to visit him was his. And no little boy of his would ever be out of his sight.

The little boy grew.

...And so did LeBeau's love for the little boy.

And so ends the tale of the sad lonely LeBeau Dork and how he became the Happy LeBeau Dork.

Why Yes, It Has Been Awhile

2011-09-27T17:20:00.000-07:00

...A really long while, she admits sheepishly as she realizes it has been over a month... More like nearly two whole months.

But you should be happy to know that all remains happy and well and mostly lovey-dovey.

The reason for my absence is simple really, however inexcusable that I really did not feel like going to all the complicated trouble of trying to swype my excuses out to you on my Droid. Just accept my apologies while I move on to explaining the situation. Since moving to this apparently too-remote-for service location, the internet options were slim and complicated and expensive to say the least. We think we may have found a solution, but it is on the slow side and its reliability has yet to be seen.

The good news is, internet and time permitting, I hope to get back in the swing of blog things. My baby boy keeps on getting cuter, if you can believe that. He also has a brand new baby girl cousin who is the epitome of beauty and you will die when you see photos of her sweetness. Jimmy happens to adore her and is a good big-cousin to her.

Life is beautiful. Much like how Autumn is this year.

Stay tuned! Photos, recipes, updates, thoughts.... have the potential of appearing in the near future.

Home, Home on the Lake...

2011-07-29T21:49:00.000-07:00

And that, my friends, is the exact view from our deck. Does it not make your heart go pitter patter? Quite soothing, I must say.

That Finger!

2011-07-21T22:06:00.000-07:00

Quote of the day:

(after discovering both our laptops unplugged with very low battery life for the umpteenth time)

"It's like there's a little finger named Jimmy running around unplugging computers!"

--the techy baby's daddy

Okay, well I thought it was kinda cute considering the baby boy does seem to enjoy running around getting into all sorts of trouble with electronic gadgets. Hehe.

I Have a Funny Little Knot of Awe Deep Down

2011-07-21T21:46:00.000-07:00

So that sounds something like what might be in a kid's song. But really, I've been walking on a cloud for the past week even while our little home here is dismantled and there's stacks and stacks of cardboard boxes and everything is upheaval and Jimmy's cutting a gazillion teeth. This feeling in the pit of my stomach is the result of a huge blessing in the form of a home that God dropped in our laps after I was going through a phase of, "Dear Lord, I like our itty bitty little home, and I'm perfectly content to dwell here. But a house to ourselves, a yard, a place to grow things... I would kinda like that. It can all be very tiny even. I'm just a little bit tired of concrete. But I can wait if I have to. This is a JSYK to you, God. No rush." I can't wait to tell you the story. It's pretty incredible. And it's still unfolding. But you know how you feel when God answers your prayers--even prayers that weren't really prayers, just thinking out loud to the Man upstairs--in ways you couldn't have possibly imagined... To the extent that when you look back at the original desire it looks like a mockery to what God really had in store? Yeah. That's that funny little knot down deep. Something along the lines of wowowowowowowowowWOW. And I am so, so grateful for One who can prove His love in ways He doesn't even have to. Thank you, Lord!

[totally random unrelated photo from like a month ago because picture-less blog posts are boring]

Signing on to Say

2011-07-16T18:46:00.000-07:00

I'm signing out for a couple weeks it looks like. Some big things happening in our lives these days, mainly that we are relocating in two weeks. God has blessed us greatly with a home on the lake and we are so excited to be moving. Now it's time to reorganize our little life here and place neatly into cardboard boxes...

8 Months Goes So Fast

2011-07-01T12:19:00.000-07:00

I can't believe my baby boy is 8 months old now, as of two days ago. Seriously. How did that happen? I blinked, and I was even making it a point not to!

I love how smart he is. Of course I am his mother so naturally I'm going to think he's exceptionally smart. But really. He is! It is a blast watching him discover and learn so many new things.

Last weekend at his grandparents he finally got the whole waving thing down... And it was at the horses no less. He also started making this goofy, nose-crunched face and shows off his two adorable pearlies just to be silly. And then (seriously, get this:) he started signing the word "eat" in sign language. Ahhhh! I'm going to die of his sheer cuteness! It's so fun watching those gears spin in his blond little head when he begins to grasp a new thing.

He crawls now. He growls. He eats like a horse. He has big feet. He loves people. He weighs 21 1/2 pounds. He cries when he sits by the window if someone walks by and doesn't say hi. He has THE cutest smile in the whole wide world. It's so, so, SO much fun to be his mommy!

Do you know what else I can't believe? That I wrote this as the (boring) state of Iowa goes by.

[Photo taken with my phone while Big Boy and I were out enjoying the evening sunshine last week]

This post was written en route from Wisconsin to Nebraska for a crazy fun fourth of July weekend with my sister's family. Due to blogging editing issues from my mobile device I couldn't post it until now (July 8th) that we are home and I have finally found--er, created!--a quiet moment.

A Boy and his Mommy

2011-06-28T20:07:00.000-07:00

Impromptu candid photo shoot by my baby sister.

Grateful 65/365

2011-06-28T17:37:00.000-07:00

Grateful for wildlife!

Grateful 64/365

2011-06-27T18:14:00.000-07:00

Grateful for Beautiful Summer evenings...

Grateful 63/365

2011-06-23T21:26:00.000-07:00

Grateful for self-timers on cameras...

and for a really handsome little ham to do self-portraits with!

I Love My Beautiful Family!

2011-06-21T08:48:00.000-07:00

Grateful 62/365

2011-06-21T05:40:00.000-07:00

Grateful for paperwork...

Er... Jimmy is anyway

Grateful 61/365

2011-06-20T16:15:00.000-07:00

Grateful for a really sweet lens that makes it possible to remember the intricate details of lilacs after they quit blooming. (Photo from earlier this month)

It's Patio Week!

2011-06-20T15:16:00.000-07:00

Well, not lit-er-all-y. I totally made that up just now on the fly. But it could be patio week if you wanted it to be, because it is a free country and we can have patio week if we want.

I was just in the mood to show off my patio. It's nothing particularly fancy or extravagant I will sadly admit. In fact, it's nothing but concrete and rocks and pavement. And it's itty bitty. And it was kind of ugly. You know, apartmentish blah.

Blah. Blah.

Blah.

It still is, to be honest. But I cheered it up this summer. Added some flowers and a purty wooden bench and I like it.

So welcome to my little cement oasis.

(Bench, $35 at a neighbor's garage sale. Score! Perfect size for our little pad, and turns into a picnic table if you want, which I usually don't)

I have never been a gardener, but I was so desperate for something fresh and green to look at that I actually bought a number of plants, including a rose bush. Strange, I know. And they are surviving!

I even have an itsy bitsy herb garden.

Do you have sunshine blooming on your patio? (Or doorstep, or sidewalk, or yard, or whatever it is you exit and enter your home from?) Will you celebrate patio week this week with me?

Grateful 60/365

2011-06-15T19:38:00.000-07:00

Grateful for the best present in the world.

Grateful 59/365

2011-06-14T09:55:00.000-07:00

Grateful for toys, and toybaskets, and being able to sit by ourselves next to toybaskets, and messes we can make with the toys in the toybasket...

Yeah. Pretty much grateful for toys.

...and the cute little boy to play with the toys...

Grateful 58/365

2011-06-13T20:41:00.000-07:00

Grateful for watermelon!

Grateful 57/365

2011-06-11T06:42:00.000-07:00

Grateful for a cutesie little nursery

Grateful 56/365

2011-06-10T17:22:00.000-07:00

Grateful for an incredible view out our bedroom window

(Yes, I'm Playing Catch-Up)

2011-06-10T05:25:00.000-07:00

(In case you were wondering)

Grateful 55/365

2011-06-10T05:15:00.000-07:00

Have I mentioned that I'm grateful for summer??

And Then She Met Her Niece

2011-06-10T05:07:00.000-07:00

At long, long, LONG last!

I spent quite a bit of my single years as a nanny to my sister's children. She lives out in Nebraska, and it was the highlight of my life to be there when her babies were born. She has cute, fat babies. She made me so anxious to step into that far-out dream of motherhood someday.

December 28, 8 weeks after Jimmy was born, she gave birth to sweet Miss Korynne. It took a long five months for me to get to meet her.

And then, at long, long, LONG last I had her in my arms. All her cute fat fluffiness in my arms. She was IN MY ARMS!

And you know what was so strange about holding my sister's baby this time?

It was holding my own too.

Not sure what could be more fun than sisters having babies together.

Grateful 54/365

2011-06-09T19:40:00.000-07:00

Grateful for a healthy, strong little boy... Even if he is growing up WAY too fast.

Ah But It's Summer

2011-06-07T22:31:00.000-07:00

And that, my friends, is why I pretend I don't own a blog. Have you any idea how much I could just drink this warmth, this freshness, this beauty??? I love, love, loooooove this time of year, and I'm not. Even. Kidding. It's awesome. I could live outside. I can't stay indoors. I plan my life around the weather.

Oh, it's going to be warm and sunny today? Ahh, dishwasher. You think I'm going to empty you?? Ha!

Today is warm and sunny too. Too bad, dirty laundry.

Oh boy, it's going to be warm and sunny ALLLL WEEEK. Sweet. Our grocery bill is going to be non existent this week, because who goes shopping in this loveliness??

And would you like to know what's so lame about the above scenario? I live in town. There's nothing to do outdoors but poke in the dirt in my 4 little flower pots that are trying to thrive under my care and be shocked that we have woodticks.

All that to say I am very much inspired to blog. Seriously. Every day. But it cuts into the whole soaking up the sun thing. So it hardly ever happens. Yeah, I need to work on that.

Cousins

2011-06-07T22:12:00.000-07:00

From this...

To This...

Grateful 53/365

2011-05-30T15:47:00.000-07:00

Grateful for the sacrifices that were made so I can raise my son in this country.

Today I'm Remembering

2011-05-30T13:52:00.000-07:00

Today I'm remembering the men and women who paid the price.

Today I'm remembering friends, grandfathers, uncles, brothers, a husband... who put the stars and stripes on their sleeve, and were prepared to pay their very lives for this freedom that we love.

Today I'm remembering the Vietnam vet who stood at the wall remembering his buddies. The man who wondered why it was them and not him. Why there were 58,267 names and not 58,268.

Today I'm remembering the countless vets like him, who remember, who wonder... who sacrificed so much.

Today I'm remembering. Tomorrow I will remember again.

And I will teach my son to never, ever forget.

Grateful 52/365

2011-05-17T22:39:00.000-07:00

Grateful that Jimmy likes my cooking.

Then They Became Mommies

2011-05-16T20:51:00.000-07:00

We met when we were young. Very young. I forget our exact ages, but after spending a couple days together, we became fast friends. Because we lived so far apart, our friendship continued on paper. I doubt there were ever two closer pen pals. We filled page, after page, after page to each other... often. It seemed the phases we went through always seemed to coincide with the other. And then we both fell in love at the same time, and we were both pregnant at the same time.

I was so thrilled when I got to go spend a day finally with Rachel after the birth of her so beeeeeyoutiful baby girl. It was so much fun to meet eachother's babies for the first time. Hers so beautiful and serene, mine so big and strong and gruff. It was so cute. I couldn't believe how much Jimmy adored little Miss Angeline. So precious! In hindsight, I wish I hadn't been so busy visiting and cuddling a newborn and taken more pictures, yet I couldn't trade the cuddling and visiting for anything.

Grateful 51/365

2011-05-16T14:50:00.000-07:00

Grateful to be a mommy!!!

Grateful 50/365

2011-05-14T12:41:00.000-07:00

If he isn't cute, there is no such thing as cute.

Grateful 49/365

2011-05-12T09:33:00.000-07:00

Grateful that Spring is finally here. And it better be here to stay.

Grateful 48/365

2011-05-02T11:38:00.000-07:00

Grateful to hear lastnight's news. Grateful to each and every member of our Armed Forces who sacrificed so much in this war against terror. Grateful to every loved one that watched them go and stood by their sides while separated by thousands of miles. Grateful to be experiencing the wave of relief as the wife of an OIF vet that a horrible year of deployment has finally been justified. Grateful that Usama bin Laden has met justice.

"The fight against terror goes on, but tonight America has sent an unmistakable message: No matter how long it takes, justice will be done." -- George W. Bush

Grateful 47/365

2011-04-27T06:29:00.000-07:00

Grateful for smart looking roosters, even if they're not mine.

I told my man that someday when we move I hope it can be to a place where we can have a nice family dog and about a dozen chickens.

Grateful 46/365

2011-04-26T06:26:00.000-07:00

Grateful for footwear? He's not. No matter how much I adore adorable infant footwear, I can't seem to convince him to keep wear it.

Grateful 45/365

2011-04-26T06:14:00.000-07:00

Grateful that Spring is trying to Spring anyway.

2011-04-25T11:08:00.000-07:00

I submitted a photo to the IHeartFaces weekly contest. This week it's pets, and you can go to my photo blog for the photo of my parent's cat Teddy. It was a completely random shot; I was taking photos of my super cute baby playing at Gramma and Grampa's when Teddy showed up with all his cattish airs about him. He looked down his nose at me with disdain for my foolish camera. He acts like the world revolves around him.

Grateful 44/365

2011-04-23T04:34:00.000-07:00

Grateful for my music man.

...And grateful I caught the moment he first discovered how to make noise come out of the piano.

Grateful 43/365

2011-04-22T08:05:00.000-07:00

Grateful for sweet deals on adorable footwear.

Now if only Spring would come back...!

The Boy Can Scoot!

2011-04-22T07:41:00.000-07:00

... and other random things because they're cute little details and I don't want to forget them ...

The little Jimmy boy has had all the movements down, and was strong enough to get from A to B aboard his chubby little tummy, but the coordination just wasn't working yet. Until the other night. He worked hard, and he figured the scoot thing out. It's slow, but he's got it down. Watch out world.

He loves mirrors.

He has a favorite big boy food now. Popcorn. It made him figure out how to work his tongue so he can swallow it. So far that's the only solid food he's interested in.

He expresses himself by adamantly kicking and punching all four limbs. Happy, sad, angry, excited, scared, silly, eager, tired, awake... he has this massive workout session when he wants to communicate. So cute.

Last night he was crabby, so I was holding him while visiting with a friend in my kitchen. Suddenly I felt a peculiarly warm sensation. I looked. And there was poop. Everywhere! It seeped through his diaper, his shirt, my shirt... and then some. Poop ga-LORE. I started running water in the kitchen sink for a bath, peeled his poopy clothes off of him and removed his diaper. I stood his naked little self up, trying to wipe off the excess poop so it could be more of a warm water bath and less of a poop bath, when he cheerfully made the situation more fun and peed all over the kitchen rug.

Yay.

Motherhood rocks. Where else can you find such an unpredictable job that's so disgustingly cute?

Grateful 43/365

2011-04-18T22:16:00.000-07:00

Grateful? Ah yes, grateful for snuggly blankets to hide in. It's nearing the end of April, and I'm grateful for warm, snuggly blankets. Absurd? Absolutely. Why? Because there's an estimated amount of up to 6 inches of snow coming. And for THAT, I hate to say, I am NOT grateful.

Me to Hubby: "Can we move???"

Wind

2011-04-18T12:02:00.000-07:00

A windy day by the pond
i <3 faces

What is Godliness?

2011-04-17T09:54:00.000-07:00

The word godliness has been running and running through my mind, challenging me to that question, What is godliness?

I’m not meaning a Webster’s Dictionary or Strong’s Concordance definition. I’m not looking for where the word originated and what meaning does it have today. I don’t want to sit and analyze it. I don’t care if it’s a noun, or a verb, or an adjective, or a what-have-you. I’m not after a theological seminary type answer.

What I want to know is what is godliness.

I used to think I knew. Perfection and godliness were two exact things to me. I used to believe that godliness was something you did. Something that you strove for. Something you attained through work. Something you could see. It was a form, something that you put on. Godliness was an appearance.

It was also something that you were enslaved to. Something that no matter how hard you tried you still would never totally and completely attain, though that was still your goal. It was something that God harshly demanded. Something that made every day an uphill struggle to reach. Something that made you a failure if you did not succeed in it. I became so consumed by my godliness that there was room for nothing else in my heart.

I have found that there are many how-to articles and messages related to this subject. I used to soak them up like a sponge. I was on a quest for godliness, and I thought I knew what godliness was.

But now I’m not so sure.

I found I could sure look godly. It’s easy to wear a godly mask.

Yet I realized that’s exactly what the Pharisees did… They looked, sounded, and acted so godly. But they didn’t have room in their hearts for Jesus Christ.

I began to question my meaning of godliness.

And God answered my question.

God said my righteousness was filthiness in His sight.

God said He did not come to call people like me who were so righteous.

God said my good works were nothing.

God said I was nothing.

Nothing echoed in the deep empty premises of my heart.

Nothing!

I was stripped and naked in shame before a holy God. My godliness lay in ashes at my feet. My mask had melted in obliteration and I was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

And then I saw the Cross. I saw all my godliness, all my works, all my filthy righteousness, all my hypocrisy, all my shame, all my guilt, all my sin, all my hopelessness, all my cursed existence, all my nothingness, all of it on that cross in the form of the Son of God. My whole shattered being was up there. His blood dripped down, staining the ground in crimson.

And I realized I was horribly nothing.

And God said I was nothing.

But now that I was nothing there was a Savior. A Savior who loved me so much He took upon Himself my utter worthlessness that I may become the child of God.

His Blood cleansed me and washed away all my filthy godliness, works, righteousness, hypocrisy, shame, guilt, sin, hopelessness, and my cursed existence.

He removed the curse in my life. My mask was gone, and I didn’t miss it. My heart was free. My guilt was no longer existent. My soul had hope.

I was now nothing… But God was something.

But what about my godliness? Isn’t that something I must strive after yet? Perfection? Righteousness? Isn’t that all a part of Christianity?

Jesus Christ is my righteousness. His glorious salvation has given me freedom. He’s my Savior. He fills me with Himself, with His Spirit. And that is where true godliness lies.

My hope is sure, my faith is strong, my eternity is secured.

I am nothing. Absolutely nothing.

But God is something.

[Originally written in December 2005, I thought it appropriate as we celebrate Palm Sunday and look forward to re-living the death and resurrection of our Savior.]

Grateful 42/365

2011-04-16T21:26:00.000-07:00

Grateful for grass! [she says, reverting to a photo from last week when Spring took a little week-long vacation in these parts.]

Grateful 41/365

2011-04-14T23:19:00.000-07:00

Grateful for Mobile Uploads even if the quality is poor.

I Just Won 10 Swag Bucks

2011-04-14T23:06:00.000-07:00

I Just Won 10 Swag Bucks on www.swagbucks.com
I'm tellin' ya, it's about time YOU win swagbucks.
(grins and waves and points at you while nodding ridiculously.)

Grateful 40/365

2011-04-14T22:14:00.000-07:00

Grateful for hats! I love hats on my little man; even if they are a bit large.

Makes for a cute picture, right?

The Master Suite

2011-04-13T09:21:00.000-07:00

I like to think of myself as a decorator on a small scale at least. I love decorating our home and making it more "us" (or my husband would probably point out that with the exception of his mancave, it is more "me", but fortunately that's the way he likes it.)

That is until I read all my favorite decorating blogs written by you creative women and feeling inspired I take photographs of my work and I'm like, "Ugh! Why can't this look as airy and cheerful and bright and clean and amazing like those people's?" So I admit, my decorating skills lack to some degree and is far from professional. I will keep working at it though, and am currently accepting advice.

Anyway, maybe you recall that I was decorating on the cheap. Living in an apartment, your options for updating are severely limited. And if you were to have the permission to update, you also might have the cheapskate whims that it's not worth it because a.) it's not free to do, and b.) you will have to put it back the way it was which is also not free to do.

But then one day I thought in my head, "Wait a minute! This is our home. It ought to feel comfortable and cozy and homey. So then I called the company that owns the building and jumped through all the necessary hoops and got myself some permission to update.

And then I went to Walmart and purchased a quart of marked down, mis-tinted paint.

And since it's difficult to paint a whole master bedroom with one quart of paint, I colorwashed it. And because I liked the way it looked, my sister and I used vertical strokes to brush it on.

And this is the result.

(oh yes, my gold door knobs are LOVELY, right? Not to mention the fake plastic-y doors and trim; you're totally digging it, aren't you? Or not.)

So this is what it looks like upon entering our bedroom. I like to think of it as our honeymoon suite, but there's only so much one can do in an apartment, so it's as honeymoon-suitish as my (perhaps lacking?) creativity can make it.

I fell in love with the color scheme of gray with red and white accents. Maybe it was because I already had the red and white accents and gray was the color that looked good with it.

Hubby's nightstand matches the bedroom furniture. My nightstand is this shabby chic one that I pulled out of a shed a number of years ago, cleaned the mice nests out of it, scrubbed it down, sanded it a bit (to enhance it's rickety-ness) and was pretty sure I liked it. The little framed "Always Kiss Me Goodnight" I made while my man was in Iraq and I was really missing his goodnight kisses.
And our apartment lacks in bookshelves, so I store books in as many creative ways as possible--i.e., the stack the lamp is sitting on.

See? More books. (I can hear you muttering under your breath, "Just go get yourself a flipping bookcase already!") Oh, and gorgeous carpet, right?

Us.

And as everything always ends up, a quick little photo shoot of my super cute baby who was happy to play under the bassinet he used to actually fit in, but is going to be updated and lent to his cousin who will be arriving in August in the apartment across the parking lot, while I took pictures. (Kudos if you were able to follow that sentence.)

So there you have it. Our master bedroom. I forgot to take a before picture. Like I always forget to.

When my sister and I completed the painting part of our project, my husband wasn't sure what he thought about it. Realizing that his exhausted wife was starting to feel a bit scared that it was a flop and was really trying not to be offended by his remarks he tried to make me feel better--"Babe, I think... I think it's... I really think it's beeeaaauuutifu....." and his sentence would end in hysterical laughter like it was the joke of the year. Ugh. And then it would make ME laugh, even though I really was not happy with his opinions right then. Haha. However, after the furniture was back in place and the walls were decorated, he admitted that he actually did like it and he was glad I painted.

The end.

Linked to: The Shabby Nest

Grateful 39/365

2011-04-11T23:30:00.000-07:00

Grateful that we get to play in the grass now days.

Mommy Moments

2011-04-10T06:40:00.000-07:00

An impromptu photo shoot on the first gloriously beautiful Spring days here in the land of Wisconi.

(I love how about 50% of the photos of my baby now days contain drool. Am I the only one that thinks baby drool is cute?)

Easter Special

2011-04-09T08:26:00.000-07:00

Did you see that The Shop has quite the little handful of fun dainty goodness? What's even cooler is that I'm such a nice person, I thought I would offer these delightful beauties at 40% off for Easter. Use coupon code "EASTER2011". Just thought you might like to know.

Grateful 38/365

2011-04-09T07:49:00.000-07:00

Grateful for the cutest little drooler EVER!!

Grateful 37/365

2011-04-08T13:02:00.000-07:00

Grateful for my cute little buddy

And Then She Opened an Etsy Shop

2011-04-05T09:45:00.000-07:00

With one cute little item listed

Check it out :: Pinkish Petals Baby Headband :: and know there's more to come! Heaven knows I have a whole wad of these unique pops of cuteness in my pantry waiting to be photographed and listed.

Grateful 36/365

2011-04-04T22:50:00.000-07:00

Grateful for fun crafty projects

The Lover's Priority

2011-04-03T10:54:00.000-07:00

Her aspirations were noble, her longings sincere, but her heart was misguided.
She was trying too hard.

She longed for romance; God-honoring, pure, beautiful. The kind you write about,
the kind that's held up to the young people in her life she wished to influence
as godly and worth the wait and to be modeled.

She knew her God was capable of writing the romance of her life, but the years were passing,
her friends began to marry, and the young men she thought of, in the purity of her heart,
as possible candidates became unavailable one by one.

She read the stories, she studied the authors, she felt hope.
But meanwhile she became consumed in the appearance of her life being one of
holiness, godliness, righteous; to be emulated.
She became a slave to her works, and her emotions told her
when she was near to the heart of God, and when she had drifted.

And then, much to her joy, a man came along who admired her
and they fell in love and wedding plans were made.
Their relationship was pure, it had all the elements she dreamed of.

But somewhere along the way she had been made to understand
that of all priorities in life, her walk with God was of utmost importance,
and it was to come on a different plane than that of her marriage.

She entered her marriage feeling that her Bible study and prayer time
was of a higher priority and came first before serving her husband.
She thought that having a sweet relationship with God was the jewel of her heart
to be guarded above all else, at all costs, including her marriage.

As the months went by, the love story she thought she was living was dying.
She and her husband were drifting apart emotionally.
Their marriage was mediocre; passionless.
She felt her husband wasn't spiritual enough so for the sake of her children,
she delved even deeper into what she felt was holiness.

In the sincerity of her heart, she failed to understand the wisdom of a three-fold cord
not being easily broken.

A beautiful marriage is not one in which the wife maintains her own spirituality.
A beautiful marriage happens only when the man and the woman become one
and therefore become heirs together of the grace of life.
This is only possible when two lovers are ravished with each other and share the deep,
wild intimacy that Song of Solomon depicts.

This is the type of union that God created in the Garden of Eden.
He created Eve to be the Lover and Sustainer and Life-Giver along-side of Adam.
She was created to fulfill him.

And so, by the Grace of God, that your prayers are not hindered, (I Peter 3) understand this.
Have a deep, passionate, intimate love affair with your husband.
This is what glorifies God, and this is how you
come to know and understand Him and His love for you.

:: :: ::

The story depicted here is not based on any one specific girl, but on many; part of it even including myself. I fear for the marriages of those girls who approach marriage in this way. I see this trend in conservative Christian circles and it scares me. A void, mediocre, passionless marriage SCARES me, and it is my number one priority to guard against that because don't you understand, dear reader, that such a marriage plays exactly into the Prince of Darkness's hand?

Snapshots of Mommy-life

2011-04-02T10:30:00.000-07:00

I was busy editing photos for a client and had my little man sitting with me at the kitchen island in his BebePod.He was content to sit there and study a course in the laws of gravity by dropping his toys on the floor and watching them fall.

And then he decided to practice the art of amazing bodily functions and performed his favorite act of exploding through his diaper. Which always tickles him pink to see my reaction. This one called for a bath.

Look at that face! He knows he's a stinker and he loves every minute of it.

But there is no way I could possibly love him more.

You Think You Know, Huh, Stranger?

2011-04-01T12:00:00.000-07:00

In a random blog-perusing-nursing-session this morning, I had to chuckle at this post by kojo designs -- The Universal "Baby Girl" Symbol. Ah yes, every mom's frustration with the stranger gender specifying syndrome, which this mom of a cute little girl knows the solution for.

But I'm a mom of a baby BOY.

One of the reasons I wanted to find out what we were having while I was pregnant was so that I wouldn't acquire a host of yellows and greens and other such neutrals that shout "Guess what! I'm cute and I could be a boy, or I could be a girl! Guess again!" and therefore have to create signs that declare "I'M A BOY" to hang obnoxiously above his head so that my you-offended-me-because-you-think-you-can-tell-a-girl-apart-from-a-boy-and-you-suck-at-it vein wouldn't start throbbing in my forehead.

So the greens and yellows and neutrals that did end up in Jimmy's wardrobe are only worn around close friends and family who know he's a boy and will never ever doubt it.

But there are still those know-it-all's who can't notice the blues or the camo or the planes and cars or the duh-look-at-those-big-boyish-hands, not to mention the lack of pinks, ruffles and bows that this mom would dress her baby girl in if she had one. The worst was the friendly lady who boasted of her four grandchildren who stopped me and my cute baby in a hotel lobby. She gently tickled and gushed over his cuteness and inflated my mommy ego.

(Confession: I take a lot of pride in being this baby's mommy, so I immediately fall in love with anyone who is charmed by my baby boy.)

"Boy or girl?" She asked with a smile.

I gulped in shock; staring at the train running across the bib of the baby-boy-in-my-arms' overalls; you did not just seriously ask that, did you?

And before I could respond she gently stroked his fuzzy red head and declared, "You're just too pretty to be a boy aren't you? Yes you are!"

"Maam, I truly am so sorry your grandsons are ugly," I replied while the words that came out of my mouth were actually; "No, you tell her that you really are a boy!"

So anyway. With all these baby girls that all my friends and family are having, I think I shall do them a favor and learn how to create these super cute bows and such so at least people will know what a baby girl looks like. And in the mean time I guess the little Jimmy boy will just have to continue sucking on blue pacifiers and wearing his shirt that declares, "daddy's happy I'M A BOY".

Grateful 35/365

2011-04-01T10:09:00.000-07:00

Grateful for cute little details like baby fingers.

Photography, Spring and Other Useless Randomness

2011-03-30T09:00:00.000-07:00

I am enjoying a quiet morning here sitting at my kitchen island with my computer, a host of photography websites and a really cute little baby watching me as he sits in his BebePod playing with his noisy, rattly little ball. Today I am looking forward to doing a photoshoot with a cute little one year-old girl and her pregnant mommy. It will be fun. My favorite thing in the world to photograph has got to be kids. Heaven knows I've had a lot of experience considering my fascination with photography began when I nannied a houseful of adorable nephews and a niece.

Spring is working on springing here in the snowy hole we live in. If you have any idea of how tired I am of snow you would wonder why I even live in Wisconsin. I wonder that too. Who in their right minds would think to settle here back in the day? All I know is it had to have been Summer, because Summer in this place is gorgeous.

As you can probably quite clearly see, I'm trying to get back into the groove of regular blogging. I used to be so good at it. Thanks to facebook and the simplicity of status messages, I have become accustomed to communicating with the world in a simple sentence or two. I guess it's time to read some good books by some good authors and become reacquainted with the usage of words and get back into the sync of journaling.

And for a final piece of randomness this sunshiney morning, my husband just had a realization. "Hey Babe?" He calls from the bedroom. "We have not had any family pictures taken of the three of us!" And he's right. Kind of makes this photographer feel like a hypocrite. ha.

Grateful 34/365

2011-03-29T11:56:00.000-07:00

Grateful that he can try so hard to be happy even when he's teething.

...not to mention that he's super cute.

Grateful 33/365

2011-03-28T15:35:00.000-07:00

Today I'm grateful to be redecorating.

...on the cheap.

Grateful 32/365

2011-03-28T11:20:00.000-07:00

Grateful for a happy daddy! Ha!

Do You Swagbucks?

2011-03-27T10:33:00.000-07:00

Swagbucks is a search engine much like Google, but you are rewarded in points --er, Swagbucks, that are redeemable for a huge number of things. Gift cards are among the most popular and there's a huge assortment available for restaurants, hotels, Starbucks, iTunes, Barnes & Noble, Target, Overstock, cash in PayPal, or my personal favorite: Amazon.com.

It is simple to use. Everything you would normally "Google", "Swagbucks" it. I now have the habit of taking an extra second to just type in my swagbucks toolbar the site I want to go to in their search engine (i.e., "blogger", "gmail", "facebook", etc.). Swagbucks are randomly awarded. Sometimes just a few (like, 4 or so), sometimes a lot (the other day I got 53). There are also numerous optional offers you can participate in that will award you oodles (I signed up for a free trial of Netflix and got 1,000 SB).

Last night I realized just how advantageous my Swagbuck involvement has been. I was adding the gift cards to my Amazon account, and there sits $40 just waiting to go towards my next purchase (I'm thinking a lens, or maybe lighting equipment?). And then I decided to count up my used gift cards to see how much "money" I have actually made with Swagbucks. To date -- including the ones I have yet to use -- it came to $270.

Two-hundred and SEVENTY dollars!

Granted, I can't feed my family off of it... But it's sweet to think there's an extra $270 in my checking account at the bank because I got to use Swagbucks. What could YOU do with $270 at Amazon? (Or Paypal, or Target, or Starbucks, or...?)

So folks, I am here to tell you that Swagbucks is not a scam. It requires patience, and the habit of Swagbucks searching. But it does eventually pay off. And really, who would complain about $270?

Click on the link to sign up today.

And Thus Commences the Virtual Journal

2011-03-26T10:59:00.000-07:00

This mommy has been somewhat frustrated with herself lately as she realizes all the little things that are slipping away from memory as that little Jimmy boy of hers keeps growing up.

Because really, how does life go so quickly from this...

To this...

In basically a week's time?

The other day she went as far back into her facebook profile as her computer would allow before all the information just froze up her internet, jotting down all those milestone-of-Jimsters remarks that were not archived in any other way but a facebook status.

So while her little man sits in his BebePod next to her kicking his thunder thighs and squealing happily at her, she determines that the blog would be updated before the facebook. To further inspire herself, she has (as you may have noticed) completely revamped the look around here. Even the font is cute-sy and inspiring. And don't you just love the new title?

So welcome to the journal that depicts the love affair with her handsome studly husband and their wee bouncing baby boy who has determined to defy the pace of time and grow by leaps and bounds without waiting for each moment to thoroughly soak into this mama's heart.

Grateful 31/365

2011-03-25T16:05:00.000-07:00

Grateful for toy baskets!

Grateful 30/365

2011-03-09T03:10:00.000-08:00

Grateful for a tough little cookie.

Poor little guy has been having quite the rough week. Teething is no fun. As if running a fever and having sore gums and feeling miserable weren't enough, he also picked up the yucky little cold Andy and I have been fighting. This is the first time he's ever been sick, but look at that grin! He's such a trooper.

Milestone: Rollover!

2011-03-08T15:09:00.000-08:00

This little monkey has been capable of rolling from his tummy to back ever since the first time I laid him on his tummy. Last week he successfully utilized every ounce of fiber in his diaper and then some, creating quite the little mess. Once I got him cleaned up, I had to take care of his messy things before I had a chance to put a new diaper on him. I was away from him for all of about 30 seconds. I came back to this ::

Grow, Discover, Learn, My Little Man

2011-03-06T22:33:00.000-08:00

The things mommies get excited about... I'm so thrilled for my little man now that he has discovered his hands. He reaches, grasps, clings to and bats at everything he can reach. It is so darn cute. I love watching his enthusiasm. Looking into his eyes I just know he's learning and soaking in everything he possibly can. Constantly. I pray that I, as his mommy, will always encourage that desire to know and understand and learn. As he grows older, I hope I never dampen that enthusiastic longing to explore and discover more. I want him to be all that God has created him to be.

Grateful 29/365

2011-03-06T13:25:00.000-08:00

Grateful for my brother Zack and the way he keeps the world around him smiling...

Zack was recently visiting my sister who has a baby girl (Korynne) 8 weeks younger than James. She says,

"Zack claims that James is his kid. When I try to tell him otherwise, he argues with me. So then I asked if he wanted to hold Korynne (since I assumed he was just on a baby kick) but he adamantly refused, saying he'd probably hurt her."

Zack has, on many occasions, begged to come over, promising that I wouldn't have to do anything. He would babysit Jimmy and I could go take a nap. (yeah, I probably wouldn't sleep so good, but the thought is sweeter than sweet!)

Before James was born, I was never fond of the name "Jimmy" (it has since grown on me). But no matter what I said, Zack always insisted throughout my pregnancy that he couldn't wait for me to have Baby James and that he was going to call him "Jimmy-my-boy".

I think part of his utter infatuation with Jimmy is due largely in part to his prayers during my pregnancy. Zack was devastated when I miscarried in March 2009 and still talks about it. He was always concerned about the baby while I was pregnant this time around and I know, cute little prayer warrior that he is, he was sure to let God know that he loved Jimmy-his-boy and desperately wanted to hold him.

Grateful 28/365

2011-02-21T12:14:00.000-08:00

Grateful for a loving, thoughtful husband

Grateful 27/365

2011-02-18T20:01:00.000-08:00

Grateful that I'm his mommy.

My Three Month-old

2011-02-12T14:29:00.000-08:00

I love being his mommy. Even if he is 100% daddy's boy.

Grateful 26/365

2011-01-30T22:33:00.000-08:00

Never have I seen a baby love his daddy more. It is so cute, it melts my heart every time I see him looking so intently into his daddy's eyes.

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-24T21:40:00.000-08:00

Grateful 25/365

2010-12-17T22:11:00.000-08:00

Really grateful for my sweet baby boy.

The Story that Takes Longer to Tell than the Story Itself

2010-12-10T11:34:00.000-08:00

That’s right! It’s finally the birth story. It took a whole 6 weeks after the event of one-handed typing to get it written, yet it still feels like I left so much out. I warn you, it’s long and gory and will only be appreciated by women who, like me, have a strange fascination for birth stories.

I had spent my entire pregnancy preparing myself for the experience of birth. I got myself so psyched about it I was even eagerly anticipating the intense process that I would have to go through before I could welcome my baby boy into my arms.

I wanted it to be all natural. I was determined to feel and endure every bit of it. I prepared myself for the agonizing hours it would take, and I was going to spend as many of those hours as possible in the comfort of my home. A crazy part of me felt that I wouldn’t truly feel like a real woman if I didn’t experience to the hilt everything there was to possibly experience in giving birth. Maternal instinct is weird.

Bright and early on Friday, October 29^th I woke up noticing a consistency in the painless contractions I was having. Even though that was not the first time this happened, I somehow knew that this would be the day my baby would be born.

The entire week I had been feeling supercaly-istically frustrated that with all the labor activity I was having, it just wasn‘t getting the job done! At my last prenatal appointment we learned I had dilated to 4 pretty much overnight, cervix was thin and baby was engaged. But was I in labor?? NOOOooo. As the most uncomfortable week of my life wore on I could tell I was even continuing to (slowly. Obviously.) dilate, yet it was all just this cute little puttering around stuff. And all I craved was a deliciously painful contraction tearing my insides apart and gushing water and knocking me into the official category of labor. I was willing to even bear such humiliation in public. Just let me have my baby!!!

Family members called often wondering if I was in labor yet, or if by chance I had already had the baby. My sister, Courtney, and her family traveled from Nebraska to await the birth. As for me, I was pretty sure the baby was stuck and I was gong to be pregnant for.EVER!

I had tried everything. Even castor oil. A couple times. And large doses! And nothing. significant. happened.

Courtney--who has had three babies and is expecting her fourth, so therefore is well-versed on the subject of labor and delivery--told me to relax. She was going to take me on a nice girl’s day out. If nothing was happening by the end of the day, she would personally measure and mix the castor oil with the precise method she used that put her in labor with her last two.

So that’s what happened. By the end of the day there was not a peep of labor, even after requesting an extra-spicy quesadilla burger at Applebee’s for supper. So once again I gagged down Castor Oil. THREE whole 2-tablespoon doses with rootbeer 45 minutes apart. I was so tired of Castor Oil! For hours I felt nothing. My husband suggested a fourth dose, and I almost did it, except for that I was starting to feel a bit sick to my stomach. I just fell exhausted into bed and hoped that the baby would be born before the end of the year. Pretty please with cherries and chocolate sauce on top??

The laxative effect of the castor oil did eventually kick in. With every trip to the bathroom I miserably consoled myself, “It’s actually okay that this isn’t working in the labor department like it’s supposed to. I’m too exhausted, I feel sick, and I don’t feel like I have the energy to have a baby right now.” After a couple hours I fell into a deep, extremely restful sleep.

Sometime after 6am I woke up feeling nice and perky. As I lay in bed I realized I was having contractions. They didn’t hurt, but I started timing them. They were on the dot, every 2 minutes. I texted my sister and my friend Amanda--both of whom I had asked to be at the birth--to let them know that I think this is it, but I’m just going to stay in bed for awhile to make sure they stay consistent long enough so that when I get up they won’t quit like they have been doing all week. And then I nudged my sleeping husband and told him. “Mmkay,” he mumbled. “You want to labor at home as long as possible anyway.” He pointed out as he sleepily he rolled over and went back to sleep.

I had to make another little trip to the bathroom. When I got back in bed I waited for the next contraction… and it wasn’t coming! Shoot! They went away! I got up too soon! I considered the effectiveness of pulling my hair out in this situation.

And just then I got hit with a hard one. It completely took my breath away--that is until I focused my crossed eyeballs and worked on breathing through it instead of tearing the sheet apart. Wowzers. Five minutes later, another one. Uh, now they were coming with consistency… and a whole lot of pain! I started trembling. I thought I was excited and maybe a little chilled. My baby was coming today! If only I had known I had just reached the phase known as transition.

I woke up my husband again. “Okay, Babe, they just got a lot harder. This is the real deal. We need to get ready to go to the hospital!”

I got up and started gathering my things as quickly as I could between contractions. My sister and I had done some baby shopping the night before so I had a few last-minute things I wanted to add to my bags. I frantically threw things in the diaper bag, but for the life of me, I could not find the second mitt to a pair I wanted to bring to the hospital! I meticulously and frantically sorted through everything. Twice. Do you have any idea how hard that was to do being racked with transition contractions? I never did find it, and it was at the back of my mind throughout the entire labor bothering me. My baby would have scratches on his face all on account of me losing that stupid mitt! What a horrible mother am I.

When my husband noticed how often I was stooping over the bed painfully trying to breathe and moaning softly, he announced, “Okay, you’re not really even getting a break. It’s Gametime!” He proceeded to take over communicating with Courtney and Amanda and loaded our bags in the car, and encouraging me to hurry up.

But then there was this other weird instinctual thing that I couldn‘t do without. A shower. And makeup. I know. Hormones don’t go a very long way when it comes to brilliance. But it made sense at the time that in the next twenty-four or forty-eight hours (or whatever it was going to take to birth my first baby, since first babies are long, hard, stop and go labors) I was going to pretty much be stripped of humanity, and for some reason it was absolutely vital to enter that experience with as much of my sanity and wits about me as possible. The only way to accomplish that was to be clean and purtied up, right?

The shower was entirely heavenly. I had requested in my birth plan to labor in water. The only chance for that was in that 362-seconds-or-so shower. With every contraction I hugged the wall and whispered to myself, “I can do this! I can do this! I know I can! I know I can!”

Getting out of the shower, was not so heavenly. My poor husband couldn’t convince me to just get to the HOSPITAL! like any normal earth-dwelling citizen would recognize as a necessity right about then. So with every contraction he rubbed my lower back while I tried to squeak my gratitude that he was relieving 0.291% of the pain, which is huge when you’re in that kind of pain.

And then… a new sensation.

WAS.

PUSHING.

And I couldn’t stop myself!!

Okay, so maybe I wasn’t going to be in labor for days. Maybe this whole labor-at-home-for-as-long-as-possible thing got over-extended. Maybe Andy was right and I should have left when he said we should. Maybe we would be having a baby on the all-of-8-minutes drive to the hospital…

I made my way out to the car between contractions. I reached up and tightly gripped the handle above my head for the entire drive. Andy says that I groaned “This baby is coming NOOOOOOWWW!” The only thing I clearly remember about the trip was a car pulling out in front of us and then driving reeeeeaaaally snailishly sloooow. And that. was. just. wrong.

Upon arriving to the hospital, after a series of mishaps that took us to the wrong part of the maze-of-a-building, I looked for a place to sit for relief while Andy had to call the front desk. The only thing around was a lone wheelchair. I sat myself down and tried to catch my breath thinking to myself, Lovely. I’m going to have a baby in this lonely, cold parking garage on a wheel chair. Who does THAT?

Next thing I knew Andy was running across the parking lot, pushing me in the wheelchair. Part of me wanted to retain this weird sense of pride and be determined that I can walk myself, but the other part of me was really appreciating how fast we could go because Andy could really book it with me in the wheel chair. I remember seeing my sisters pull up--they had to stop and wait for us to cross. I smiled and waved at them, knowing they certainly were laughing at me.

By the time we reached the front desk, I was having another contraction, which meant I was bearing down. An older gentleman seeing the urgent state we were in took over the wheelchair to direct us to the labor & delivery floor, while Andy insisted the persistent receptionists bring their checking-in paperwork to our room. I was so glad he refused to leave me! They called after us, “They don’t have a room ready for you, by the way… but go ahead!“ (Like they could really stop us anyway, Ha!) Oh awesome. I wonder if they have a stable with a manger out back.

The time was 8:56.

Meanwhile, Mr. Old Man was going soooo sloooooow, and then he was even slowing down more for every little bump and announcing them as we reached them. I remember repeatedly telling him, “it’s ok, I’m not having a contraction right now.“ (while my mind chanted “Just go! Go! Go! Faster, faster, faster!“ as I gripped the arms of my chair and gritted my teeth.

Upon reaching the labor and delivery floor, there was a flurry of activity around a room near the nurses’ station. They quickly ushered us into it, the nurse handing me a cup and asking me to pee in it. I tried, believe me I did. But all I could get out with my uncontrollable pushing was a loud groan—“Iiii caaaaan’t PEEEE!” I certainly have had my finer moments…

Fortunately that made my awesome nurse, Krystina, realize just how serious the situation was and I was no first-time mom coming in for a bout of false labor. She had me wrap my arms around her until the contraction subsided. I’m surprised I didn’t break any ribs. She presented a gown to change into, and everything after that is a memory of a flurry of activity, contractions and insane pushing. Somebody was telling me to stop pushing because they hadn’t checked me yet while she put her hand up me muttering how far back my cervix was. “Oh! She’s complete!” uh huh, I coulda told you that.

They broke my water, hooked me up to a monitor, and with every contraction Krystina would stop what she was doing and give me an animated demonstration on how to push. The midwife arrived breathless and pulling gloves on. An oxygen mask was put on my face. And then they started telling me that I had to push between contractions. The oxygen mask on my face made me realize that they were concerned for the baby and I was willing to do everything they told me to do for the sake of the baby… and the avoidance of an epesiotome. I learned later his heart rate had dropped low enough to concern them. Krystina’s demonstrations were looking like dance moves. She was fascinating me and I was doing everything she told me to do while I squeezed the life out of my husband’s and sister’s hands.

By the way, my husband was awesome. He was entirely sympathetic and supportive while completely fascinated with the whole process. He was so cool.

And then my baby was crowning. Courtney told me this is the part that hurts the worst. She was right. It was a sensation that made me want to crawl out of my skin. In reverse. And high gear! At that moment I thought of all the women I knew who pushed for hours with their first babies and momentarily panicked. I got to this point too fast, now for the next several hours I have to feel like THIS!!!!

Two pushes later he was out. “oh! Oh! My baby!! Look Andy!! Our baby! He has haaaair!!”

How are there words for that moment? They handed him to me and I held his warm, sweet little body up against my chest and his feisty crying calmed as he snuggled against me. Andy was kissing me and touching our tiny little son.

“We did it, Babe, we did it!”

The time was 9:10.

14 minutes after arriving to the hospital our adorable baby was born. My entire labor was less than 3 hours. The most amazing experience ever!

Grateful 24/365

2010-11-23T17:40:00.000-08:00

Grateful for personality!

Grateful 23/365

2010-11-22T10:38:00.000-08:00

Grateful for everything about this little boy!!

Our Baby

2010-11-05T10:41:00.000-07:00

James Teagon
Born on Friday, October 29, 2010
Weighing 6 pounds, 9 ounces
19 1\2 inches long

We couldn't be happier.

Sometime I'll tell you the details of a whirlwind labor and delivery, but for now I'm just going to go cuddle my little guy some more.