A Holy Home

I have read countless "how to" books on parenting.  Some I have included:

• Baby's First Year- My baby manual for Daxx,  before I discovered Google (this was 5 years ago!)
• Baby Wise- Screwed me up royally, I loath this book.  Key points I agree with but it created a lot of stress in my life.  I had to let go of that dream.  Release, Heather, release.  
• Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Baby- LOVE
• Happiest Baby on the Block- LOVE
• Have a New Kid in 7 Days... I needed this.  It worked!
• Parenting with Love and Logic- yup.  Thats hard to do, but worth it.
• Bringing Up Boys- Chalk full of great advice
• The Strong Willed Child- Again, a classic. 

Okay... So.  You get my drift. I have done my fair share of "parenting reading" in the last 5 years.  This list does not include the bazillion blog posts, online articles or other various media paraphernalia that I have laid my eyes on regarding bringing up my children.  I am an achiever.  I like to do a good job at whatever task I am handed.   Add that fact on top of the nerdy research lover in me and you have someone who probably over educates themselves on a few subjects, one being "parenting".

DISCLAIMER: I am not the perfect parent, will never be the perfect parent, I need Jesus like everyone else. 

Moving on.

I recently joined a "Bible Study" group for moms at our new church and we are going through "Finding Your Purpose as a Mom" by Donna Otto.  Honestly, I joined the group so I could get to know a few women in our church.  I love fellowshipping with gals who are in the same phase of life as I am.  I like camaraderie, I like to swap scary stories of our children running with scissors, but living to tell about it. (I kid)  I committed to reading this book, but I had NO idea what was in store for me.  (I already knew everything, duh!?)

Last week, I downloaded the book (which is no longer in print BTW), and did my dutifully reading before class.  At the end of the chapter my socks were knocked off and I was left sitting on my couch with my jaw hanging open.  Totally convicted, totally moved and completely shocked at what God had shown me.  I was caught off guard by the Holy Spirit, in an area that I thought I was a veteraned expert in, 'raising young children'.  

The author brought up so many great points, I would have to just quote the entire chapter, but here are a few of the main themes that stuck to my ribs this week.  

1: My house is Holy Ground.  

That's right... My. House. Holy?!?  Has Donna Otto been inside of my house?!  (I think NOT!) When I think of a "holy" space, I envision stained glass, wooden pews, tall ceilings and... silence.  This is not my home.  The rooms are scattered with super heros, baby dolls, and jumperoos.  The halls are filled with noisy children, clashing swords, and lot's of laughter.  At first glance, this is not a sacred place.  

But, she says...

Just as Moses took off his shoes on Holy ground, "Take off your shoes, he is saying.  The place where you are cooking, cleaning, and raising the next generation is indeed holy ground because you are mine and your home is part of my plan for changing the world". 

Oh. My. Word.  My house, is part of HIS PLAN?!?  Wowzers, what an eye opening statement. (And then I pose this question to myself: Have I been conducting my house in a manner that is worthy for God to use?!  CRINGE)   Recently, I admit, my accomplishment is just making it through to the end of the day.  Are all children fed? Check.  Is everyone clothed? Check.  Are we all alive?! Check.  Now that Dutch is 7 months old, it is time to get my butt in gear and be more intentional.  

"Intentional thinking is important because I think much of our culture has fallen into the assumption that home will just take care of itself...And, I think that countercultural thinking is absolutely crucial because our current American culture tends to be absolutely clueless and perverse in the way it views our home life and motherhood.  We live in a society that features entire cable channels about "house Beautiful" (HGTV) whetting our appetites for homemade bread and crisp, fragrant hand embroidered sheets..." And just think, this book was written BEFORE Pinterest and BEFORE Facebook!  How much more are our appetites whetted for a color coordinated house and fresh baked cookies?! 

(Do I spend more time on Pinterest than I do in the Word?!)

We must view our homes with so much seriousness, taking a stand again the schizophrenic culture that both idolizes and devalues the "home".  No matter if you are a mother who stays at home, or who works, when your family is together in your home, "Your Savior wants to use your life and your work and your role as a mom to change the world".

How humbling.  

We must shift gears from day to day thinking to having an eternal mindset. 

And no, this does not mean I will require silence in my home from now on, or that we will be in prayer 24 hours a day, or that my children will instantly become "angels" because our house is holy.  Nope, not going to happen.  But, it will cause me to have a bit more grace in training up my children, it will help me to be more intentional with my actions, it will cause my attitude about my "house" go beyond it's physical state and consider the value of the emotional and spiritual well being of my household. 

2: What ever is Good about God should be fleshed out in my home:

So, being contentious, short tempered and impatient are probably not attributes of God, huh?!  Good, because I am never that way and neither are my children.  Whew...

"We are called to look at our homes the way God sees them- as vital centers for accomplishing his work on earth.  Homes are tangible places where his love, mercy and righteousness are taught and practiced on a regular basis" 

So, am I practicing his love, mercy, GRACE, patience, and self-discipline with my children??  Am I modeling this behavior, and I teaching them how to be this way also?!  Are these qualities my priority?!  (They are NOW)

They. Must. Be.  It is my calling, as a mother, to be the one to teach my children these attributes of God by behaving in such a manner.  This alone is reason enough for me to draw near to God daily, because he is USING me to mold these children into who he wants them to be.  (no pressure, Heather) 

I cannot leave this awesome responsibility up to anyone else.  It only falls on me, and my husband, to instill these character qualities into our three precious children.  Netflix won't teach them, PBS kids will not teach them, their friends will not teach them, and (gasp) even the church will not teach them... it is only up to me.  The burden to "teach and practice" how live out these character qualities of God can only be full filled in the confines of my house.  Is my home conducive to such eternal work?!  The answer must be yes, and if it isn't, then changes need to be made.  Today. 

The priority of my house must not be home decor, gourmet foods, or organization... the ultimate priority must be for it to be a Holy place, a place intentionally created to raise up children WHO... 

• who are on fire for the Gospel
• who seek justice
• who love hard 
• who practice grace 
• AND who know God

These are the children I want to produce from my little house.  

These are just my thoughts on CHAPTER ONE... Can't wait to share what else I glean from this book. I can tell already it will be life. changing.  

This. Poor. House.

Aye. Aye. Aye.

This. Poor. House.  Life has taken it over.  Forget "Better Homes and Gardens", can I please subscribe to "Lived in House and Overgrown Yard"?  That way, I can live and dream in reality. 

Tuesday, I felt a bit overwhelmed in my teensy house.  Before you read any further you must know that my family of FIVE (+a fish) is squashed into a 2 bedroom, 1 bath house at the moment.  But, before you feel sorry for me, we are making it work, and it's actually kinda nice.  I can stand in my hallway and see all 4 corners of my house. (Can you do that?)  I can vacuum my ENTIRE house and never unplug my vacuum. (Can you do that?) 

See, it has it's perks.  

My children are small, they don't care that they are all smashed into one room, it actually brings them more security, in my professional opinion.  Some day (soon I am praying) we will move.  Today. This. Is. My. Life.  I can either dream of a bigger house in a better future, dwell on a "clean and organized past" or embrace today for what it is and find the wonder in this little life blunder.  (see what i did there...{see blog title})

So.  I was thinking.  If I did some reorganizing in this little abode, my life would be so much easier.  Here is what I was picturing and why: 

1: MAKE DINING ROOM A GIANT FAMILY CLOSET.

Dining Room before 3rd Child

Dining Room Post 3rd Child: 

Do you see the above picture?!?!  This is how my dining room looks 75% of the time.  Now.  All that laundry is clean.  Trust me.  But. Gracious.  When you have tiny children, the only time you can fold clothing is when everyone is sleeping (at either naptime or bed time).  This is because:

A) Little hands will unfold 3 items in the time if takes you to fold 1

or

B) They want to help!  (I'm sorry.  Maybe they can help with a load of towels, but ain't nobody got time for 2 toddlers helping with a family of 5's laundry.  And... if you do... Congratulations, you are a better Mom than me.  Come teach me your ways, oh wise one.)

Okay.  I fold it, but I cannot put it away because... every one is sleeping.  And what ruins your day more than your kids waking up early from their nap?! Nothing!!!  Absolutely. Nothing.  So.  It sits there, in my piles until the stars align and I have 3 happy children, occupied (and not needing Mommy) then I can put it away.

The solution:
I have 2 options.  I can get this problem under control, or I can embrace the problem and buy a few dressers and some clothing racks so I can set up a family closet in the dining room.

hmmm.  decisions. decisions.

2: MOVE DINING ROOM TABLE TO LIVING ROOM

Living Room Before 3rd Child

Living Room Post 3rd Child

Obviously, since our dining room looks like our closet threw up in it, we need to eat else where.  Let me pause a minute and tell you I am a BIG HUGE believer in eating at the table as a family.  We try to always sit as a family and eat together, but this clothing issue is a problem.  So what to I do?  Either, I move my piles to the floor or bar and we eat the the table, or we have a "picnic" in the living room. These two scenarios are about to drive me batty.  My children love it.  I do not.  So...

The Solution:
Since my dining room will be the official family closet... let's just move the table into the living room and call it what it is.  An added bonus is that our clothing will not get dirty. Yippee.


3: MOVE ALL 4 MATTRESSES TO THE FLOOR INTO THE MASTER BEDROOM

The Master Bedroom Before Third Child

The Master Bedroom Post Third Child

If you have small children, you can agree with me on this point.  All children think Mom and Dad's bed is where. it's. at.  

Mom: "Would you like to go to Chuckee Cheese?" 

Kid: "Nope, it's too noisy and no fun."

Mom: "Would you like to go with me and eat ice cream all day?"

Kid: "No, that would make my tummy hurt, duh?!"

Mom: "Would you like to come sleep in my bed tonight?"

Kid: "HECK YES!!!!!"

And, I would totally be happy with my children sleeping in my bed IF I got to sleep.  Nope.  That is not the case is it?!  Let's discuss the reality of this for a second...If our kid comes to our bed, we get an elbow to the face, a knee in the back and their body temperature rises to 200 degrees and you feel like you are going to die from heat exhaustion. And if your kid is like mine, they do the most atrocious of all actions... they. breath. through. their. mouth.  (and in your face if you are lucky) My children wind up in our bed part of the night about 50% of the time.  Then, I force my husband to carry them back to their rooms.  (I get up to feed the baby, HE carries kids back to their bed.  It's our give and take.) 

Also, because we have 2 bedrooms, naptime can be a little weird.  Usually I put the baby down in the kids room, and then our 2 year old sleeps in our bed for naptime.  Sleeping is all out of whack in a 2 bed, 5 person household. 

The Solution:

I will move all mattresses to all 4 beds to the floor of our bedroom.  This solves so many problems.  Everyone can have their own beds, no one will fall out of bed, and we can all sleep through the night!!!!  woohooo!!  Win. Win. Win. 

There you have it!!  I took all my life's problems and solved them with one post.  But.  Wouldn't it be the best if all these solutions were socially acceptable?  I am pretty sure the Duggars have a family closet, but they have 19 (or 40) children? (I lost count) Several people in our world sleep in rooms with several mattresses piled on the floor, but that lifestyle is a little too alternative for my family.  And, the "TV Tray" was invented because all of us eat in the living room at some point, don't we?! 

I guess we can't waste our time "Cause wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin'; Plannin' and dreamin'..." for your life situation to change won't bring about any change at all.  Instead we must embrace our circumstance, and make it work the best we can.  Set small goals and accomplish those, then tackle something a little bigger.  

So my small goal for the month: Figure out a way to keep the laundry off the table.   I won't be rearranging my house according the the plan described above, instead I will start small and see where it leads.  

Thanks for reading friends.  

Snip. Snip. Snip.

Well.  There are moments that happen in my life that cause me to pause and think, "This is a memory I will be talking about forever".  Probably a story I will torture my 12 grandchildren with for years to come.

You know the stories your grandmother has retold once a year for your entire life?  The stories you have to grin and bear through, nodding your head and gritting your teeth until it's over, pretending like you haven't head it told one. million. times.?!

Last week, I had one of those moments...a memory maker.  My (then) 4 year old son, CUT my daughters hair. With scissors.  In the bathroom.  Without my knowledge.  I was devastated.

This would be his guilty look...

First off, for those who do not know.  My daughter was born with a ponytail.  Literally, the day she was born, I gathered all the little hairs on the back of her head and tied them up with my ponytail holder and took a picture (a picture that is lost on my other computer) so I could prove to her she was born with enough hair to make a real ponytail. Below I posted a picture of her the day she was born, so you will believe me.  There was even MORE hair in the back of her head. 

 (btw... she was 10 days late.  I always joke that she came out hairier than a little monkey bc she was "over done".  My friends can attest, she even had hair on her ankles and shoulders.  It was creepy.  [Don't worry, she is normal now.])

Okay... so my daughter was born with a lot of hair.  yadda yadda yadda.  Well.  The older my daughter got, the harder it was for me to bear the thought of cutting her hair.  In my mind I felt like she was still to little for a "hair cut", and I liked piggy tails, buns, and pony tails. (Even if she did look like Mel Gibson in the Patriot half the time.  She was so cute, it didn't matter.)  

For Christmas I asked the grandparents to get her a pretend hair styling set, you know the ones that come with a blow dryer, fake curling iron and brush?  Lolli, my husband's mom, went above the call of duty and bought Zadie a Melissa and Doug "Hair Stylist Costume Role Play Set".  (Because Melissa and Doug is the Cadillac line of all children's toys, right!?) It included all the fun stuff I was anticipating, PLUS a fake pair of scissors, so the kids could "ROLE PLAY" the hair stylist.   Why didn't my Mommy Radar kick in and say.... Alert! Alert! Alert!!!  Playing with ANY type of scissors will lead to nothing but trouble?!?!  

Well, actually it did... but she was so darn cute pretending to cut people's hair.  She would even ask you to pay her afterward, and she made 2 DOLLARS in change in 1 week!!!  My heart would melt every time I would sit on the floor and allow her to cut my hair with her "role playing" scissors, and then I'd have to find a penny in the couch cushions to make her continue.  

A lazy afternoon, one week after Christmas, I was home with the 3 kids.  I was in the living room holding the baby, the other two were playing together.  They were playing their favorite "role playing" game, Tony Stark and Pepper.  Daxx, assuming the role of Tony and Zadie playing Pepper (of course).  Tony had to get ready for the day, so he needed a brush and some detangler.  (What man doesn't use detangler everyday?!)  He opened the bottom drawer in our bathroom cabinet and got out his supplies with Pepper right on his tail.  As he was fixing himself up to hop into his "Iron Man" suit for a day's work, Pepper discovered the scissors in the back of the drawer.  And of course she thought, "Oh... Scissors.  Hair Stylist. Yes.  I need my hair cut.  Now!".  So Pepper handed Tony the scissors and said, "Will you please cut my hair?".  

Meanwhile, here I am, sitting in the living room, proud and puffed up because my children and playing together!!  No one is screaming, crying, or fighting over toys.  I am looking at my cute baby who is cooing and being oh-so-cute and all of a sudden...everything in my house goes silent.  It's as if someone hit the mute button on my life and then I hear... SNIP. SNIP. SNIP.  

Immediately, I scream, "FREEEEZZZE!!  Stop Now!!  Put. the. SCISSORS. down.!!!!  NOOOOooooo!" (Oh, and I basically throw my infant to the ground and he starts screaming bloody murder because he's terrified)

I run in slow motion to the bathroom.  And, this is what I find.... 

2 children and a large pile of hair in the middle of the bathroom floor.  

The damage was done.  My daughters precious hair was chopped off.  Though I could swear I heard 3 snips, I only spotted 2 chunks missing from her hair in the back.  (Maybe God spared her from the 3rd snip!  A modern day miracle, possibly?)  After a thorough examination, I realized the chunks were big enough to call in the reinforcements for some damage control.  

The rumor is that "she told him to do it".  No one got in trouble.  I think it was a result of the "Role Playing they had been doing for the last month with Zadie's new toy.  I will say, they both received a long talk about scissors and how we NEVER. EVER. cut hair or anything else, unless Mommy or our teacher tells us to. 

I later made an appointment for Zadie Bug to get a real hair cut.  She went to see our friend Chelsea and my-oh-my does she look cute.  

I am not sure why I waited so long to cut her hair.   Maybe I was holding onto that long hair for my own sake rather than hers.  This cut is not only cute, but it doesn't get in her face; and as a bonus, she no longer looks like Mel Gibson in the Patriot (or Braveheart, as her "before picture" below resembles).  

She did grow up a little more, but she was ready.   Maybe I wasn't ready, but she was.  

I Blinked, and Then He Was FIVE

I have a 5 year old son!!  Me!  

I cannot believe my son has turned 5, an entire hand full of fingers.  

What a handsome fellow, if I do say so myself. 

#warbyparker #selfie

Hewwo.

My name is Heather and I have worn glasses since the 4th grade.  

Before getting glasses, I was one of those dorks who secretly wanted to wear glasses.  And, while I am confessing, I always wanted a cast.  Not so much on the broken bone, just the cast.  I had one in 8the grade, and it itched.  

Itched real bad. 

And I was to poor to get a colored cast.  So I had a white cast.  But with my creative skrillz, I just pretended it was on purpose so I could have everyone sign with colored sharpies.  Problem solved. 

Anyways.  

Back to the glasses.

I was excited to wear glasses for the first week I had them.  Of course I was.  I was 9 years old.  After the "new" wore off of my glasses wearing, I realized how much of a hassle they were.  Especially after I became aware of the opposite sex.  What makes a prepubescent girl even more awkward: foggy, smudged glasses, perched on the tip of her nose.  Ew.

(poor 6th grade me)

Well, once I was deemed mature enough to wear contacts by the parentals, I slapped those babies in and never looked back at the old dusty frames.  I love contacts.  I prefer them to glasses any and every day of the week, month or year.  Every. Day. I wear contacts.  I do religiously take them out every night.  

Anywho.  I have been 'eyeing' some frames for oh... 2 YEARS!  And remember in this post, I confess I do not like pulling the trigger on new fashion. I like others to do it for me.  So.  For Christmas this year, my wonderful, very trendy husband bought me a pair of Warby Parker glasses from our very favorite store, Shop Good. 

Warby Parker is trendy, cheap eye wear that follows the buy a pair, give a pair business model. 

I did pick out the style.  The husbando just gave me a gift card to the website.  

Smart man I married.  Love him.  

And for the first time in 20 years.  

I love my glasses.  

Big Buddha

For my 30th birthday I asked for a purse.  I am brave enough to sport something fashion forward, but when it comes to buying purses, coats, clothing, accessories; I just cannot pull the trigger.  I am the person who buys 3 of the same shirt at gap in white, black and brown.   I am practical.  I like things that "go with everything".

Well, when I was in the market for buying a new purse I commissioned someone else to do it for me.  And, the culprit was... My aunt.  Who has always had fabulous taste.  So. I trusted her.

She picked out a wonderful purse that met all my requirements:
1: Long Shoulder strap
2: Short Handles
3: Leather

The purse she found was one lovingly named BIG BUDDHA.

After carrying my BIG BUDDHA purse for 3 months, I realize where it got it's name.

Just as Buddha's belly is large and round... so is this purse.   Like Mary Poppin's tote, my Big Buddha purse can probably fit a small lamp and a potted plant in side with no problem.

Currently my keys are MIA.  So... I dug through the belly of the Buddha to see if they had been consumed.  I took my purse, dumped it out on the table and this is what I found.... smh (that means "shakin' my head" for those who don't know.  Sometimes I google those acronyms so I don't sound silly asking)

CONTENTS: 

1. 2 Pens
2. 3 packs of kleenex
3. 1 pack of Boogie Wipes
4. 1 pack of regular baby wipes 
• (that means I had 5 OPTIONS to choose from when wiping a nose)
5. Empty RX bottle
6. 18 recipts... YES 18!!!!
7. Fruit snacks, fruit roll up, 2 skittles, 1 peanut and multiple wrappers to different candies
8. Big pile of change
9. 2 Lotions 
10. 1 Journal
11. Play Lipstick
12. PLAY KEYS!!!! (A set of plastic play keys, but nope... not the real keys I was on the mad hunt for)
13. A random hand made bean bag that I have nevereverseen before inmylife! (Pictured below)
14. Dutch's 'Well Child' checkup paperwork
15. 2 pages of art work
16. Several bobby pins
17. 1 pair of earrings
18. 1 pad of post-its
19. 1 baby hat
20. 1 necklace
21. 2 baby spoons
22. 1 baby bib (crusty and dirty)
23. Pictures I actually had "developed" for Daxx's school project (probably the only pictures I have had printed in 2 years...mom fail)

This is the handmade bean bag that I found... If it's your's I threw it away.  I am so sorry.  

I will make you a new one if you are upset enough. 

Below:

Dutch's Well Check paper work... (see the %1?  I will fill you in later)

Randomness from the depths of the Big Buddha Belly

Art work!!  Most moms probably frame this stuff... my poor kids. 

In the midst of emptying out my Buddha belly, I laughed.  I couldn't believe all that had accumulated.  I love my life.  I love the fact that I had 5 CHOICES to wipe little noses with, or mouths... or butts.  I love the fact that the jewelry probably ended up in my purse as a result of saving a baby's life... or the life of my ear lobes because the tiny tugs on my earrings could rip them in half.  I was also impressed with how prepared I was.  I had spoons, snacks, and a bib, albeit a bit crusty.

It was as if the Big Buddha purse has consumed little bits of my life and kept them for safe keeping, like a a little Buddha turned hoarder. Life can be messy.  Life can be cluttered and disorganized.  And for a mom who finds comfort in being OCD, that can be a bit overwhelming.  But, I choose to look at the mess I had been carrying around with me for 2 months and laugh and enjoy the memory.  Instead of dreaming of days of organization and I embrace these small moments of chaos.  I try my best to savor them.  To think on them and realize that these moments will be gone far to quickly.

I have emptied Big Buddha's belly, and organized it a bit.  I am sure it will be another fun adventure when I clean it out 2 months from now and discover all the things it had accumulated.

(And for the record.  My keys are still lost.)

You Changed My Life Forever

Let me introduce you to the boy who gave me the title, "Mom". 

His name is Daxxon Michael. 

Born on Saturday morning, January 19 at 8:44am. 

Weighing in at 7 pounds, 8 ounces. Measuring 20 inches long.  

Before I had children I knew nothing about raising kids, and especially nothing about caring for a baby.  I was the oldest of 2, and my brother was 3 years younger than me and frankly, I don't remember one  minute of his infancy.  Yes, I had cousins, but I lived out of state when they were babies.  One very close cousin of mine was born when I was 15, but she was a year old when she came into our lives through adoption.  She was well past the wobbly head stage.  

Prior to having my own baby, I assumed that the moment you popped the little baby-doll out,  the heavens would part and a bright light would shine down on you while holding your infant in your arms and "waaalaaa" it would be love at first sight.  Time would stop and there would be angels singing the hallelujah chorus, your breath would be taken away with the overwhelming since of pride and affection you had for this little being.  

Well.  That moment never happened for me. 

(maybe for others it did, but for me... not so much)

After I threw up 3 times while pushing a baby human out of my body, the nurse threw the mucousy, bloody, limp baby on my chest and immediately my first thought was...

"Oh, this is not the moment I had in mind.  Please, get this mess of a human off my naked chest and give IT a bath!"

Then as quickly as they threw him up there, they swept him away. 

The nurse took him, sewed me up with a needle that resembled Captain Hook's hand, then handed my baby back to me.  I took him from the hurried nurse and wanted to crumble.  I wanted to cry, not because of the heart full of love that I had, but because I was exhausted.  I labored all night long, with a waiting room full of 20+ people, I threw my guts up and probably pooped in front of 10 people I didn't know, and I desperately needed a hot shower and a long nap.  Basically, I was emotionally and physically exhausted.

  

(Needless to say my first born's birth story is not something I love to relive)

I looked down at my new little son, and thought to myself, "Who are you?! What have I done?!  Where are is the chorus of angels I expected?!".  Over the next 48 hours the nurses tried to teach me the (insert air quotes here) "Womanly Art of Breastfeeding".  The poor ladies tried to give me tips on how to care for and bathe my baby, but I am sure I just stared back at them with glazed eyes.... eyes resembling a dear caught in headlights, about to get struck down by a semi truck. 

(I would like to refer to said semi truck as "motherhood") 

Then we went home. 

After our short stent in 'babymoon' land, we braved the first night in our humble abode with my husband, my mom, and me passing around the SCREAMING infant.  We all looked at each other clueless.  Surely, one of us should know what to do with this crying baby, but... we didn't.  We just braved the night hours until the morning sun rose and Daxx was so exhausted that the crying eventually stopped. 

That first year, many tears were shed.  On Daxx's behalf and mine as well.  

Being a Mom was tough business and no one informed me of this! There were breastfeeding classes and birthing classes, prenatal messages and registering.... BUT, where was the SANITY class, and when and where was I supposed to register for the DIY Motherhood Manuel?  Where was the TRUE friend who pulled you aside and said, "You are about to encounter the roughest year of your life.  You are about to view poop, pee, boogers and vomit as daily accessories.  You might not brush your hair for two days, just try to at least make time to brush your teeth.  Pajamas are your new uniform, and don't be embarrassed if you try to make imaginary friends with the girls from the View". 

In hindsight, I would have laughed at that "true friend" and then talked about her behind her back.  Because.  I was SO prepared. 

(yeah. right.) 

But God is Good.  (Can I get an, Amen!)  He knew this little man before he gave him to me.  And God knew this little man was going to ROCK MY WORLD.  The good Lord above was going to refine this woman with motherhood.  He was going to take this self absorbed, prideful, intelligent, 20-something, plop a baby in her arms and show her that HE ALONE IS GOD.  

My world did change the day my son was born.  It has been rough, but beautiful.  It has be hard, but so exciting.  It has been difficult, but God alone has provided wisdom, energy and competence.  

In Jeremiah 1:5, God speaks to Jeremiah and says,

"Before I formed you I KNEW you, before you were born I set you apart"

I recently have been meditating on this verse and realized that our existence doesn't start at conception, but way before.  God KNOWS us before he forms us.  He KNOWs our children, he purposefully gave us these special kiddos with an intention.  An intention we may never know, but the inconceivable God of the universe knows me, and he knew I needed this little boy in my life.  A boy so dear to God that He alone knows his inner most thoughts, the number of hairs on his head, the future of his life and purpose for his being.  My love for this dear boy is nothing compared to God's love for him... which that is A. LOT. of love!!  Sometimes I am convinced my heart might burst it is so full of love. 

Daxx had a terrific birthday... one we are still celebrating.  And as I sit back and watch him play and ponder on the years that have past, I couldn't be more thankful for the roll he has played in my life.  

He is the boy, who changed my life forever. 

Hi.  

This is my first blog post.

I have nothing to write. 

I have typed, erased, re-typed about 5 different posts, but because it's my first one it just feels weird.  So.  I am posting this to let the writing commence. 

I. DID. IT. 

Yeah! 

It's for real! 

A real Blog. 

For me to embarrass myself, probably share too much about my life, and bore you to tiny pieces. 

Oh well. 

Publishing.  Now.  Clicking "Publish". 

Ahh... okay.  I did it.  

That wasn't so bad, was it?