"When worms have ears" and other idioms.

"Saved by the Bell" is now on our Netflix queue.  I was probably a lot more excited about this than is considered normal for a 32 year old mama.  We've been having so much rain over the past few weeks, not to mention some creepy happenings involving crazies in our area.  This had lead to us being holed up inside more than usual.  

One day I decided that I could not watch one more episode of "Kickin' It" and I turned on "Saved by the Bell", telling the  boys that I had a great show for them to watch.  I just knew they'd love it.  And they did.  At first they tried to resist, but soon they were captivated and dissolved in laughter on the couch.  Much like my sister and myself when we were kids.  

One rainy afternoon we were watching an episode involving a school dance.  Of course, Screech asked Lisa to be his date and of course, Lisa said NO! Her exact words were, "I'll go to the dance with you... when worms have ears!"

My kids went nuts.  They laughed and laughed. And then we had a quick language lesson on idioms.  One great thing about homeschooling, or parenting in general is that you can make a lesson out of anything!

So we learned about idioms.  And the kids made up their own.  They started out silly and got worse and worse...

*When poop can talk.

*When monkeys have wings.

*When burps smell great.

And then they evolved to...well, I'm not sure what:

*When boys have boobs.

*When girls have wieners.  

Gotta love boys, I guess.  It was pretty funny and I know for sure they will always know the definition of an idiom.  

I'm afraid that it's backfired on me, though. Whenever I ask them to do something, they throw an idiom at me.  

"Hey Jordan.  Brush your teeth."

"I'll brush my teeth... when poop can talk!  Bwahahahaha!  Hey Shaun, I said 'When poop can talk.  That means NEVER!"

Or:

"Okay, Shaun.  Time do practice piano."

"I'll practice piano.  When guys have boobs."

He is very nonchalant but Jordan will usually dissolve into laughter and shriek, "You said when guys have boobs.  That means never!  Ha ha ha!"

I just shake my head and laugh too.  Laughter is good medicine. 

On how we found our church.

The other day the topic over at Kelly's Korner was churches.  Not only churches, but finding a church home.  I didn't participate in that discussion, but it made me think about my church home and how we wound up there.  So I thought I'd write about it!

Okay, so I was one of those kids who was "raised in church".  I was blessed with not only parents who love the Lord but with God-loving grandparents as well.  On both sides!  I think I can count the number of times I missed church as a child on one hand.  Ha!  If I didn't go to our church, we were at another one for a revival or because we were visiting my grandmother's church. Seriously.  Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night.  Not to mention Spring and Summer Revival and any other revival our pastor preached at because usually the choir sang.  We were there!  Unless we were sick, and that had to be proven.  My mom could spot a fake sickness a mile away when it came to having to miss church.

And let me tell you something... I'm doing the same thing to my kids!

I was "saved" when I was a kid.  I don't really remember exactly how old I was.  I rebelled during my teen years and didn't fully rededicate my life to God until after I was married and Shaun was a few years old.  

I'm not proud of the life I lived.  A few weeks ago I was talking to a friend I used to work with back then.  She said something I will never forget.  She was my friend before we turned back to God and we stayed pretty close while we worked together even though our opinions were sometimes different.  She called me out of the blue the other day just to talk.  Ironically, we were at Forward.  She asked if Chris was still playing music at church and my answer was, "Of course!".  She went on to say how she remembered when he was called into the ministry all those years ago and that once we turned, we never looked back.  

Now, we aren't perfect by any means.  AT ALL. And honestly, most of the time our Christian walk has a lot to be desired.  We try, but we're human.  When my friend said that to me, I almost cried.  

I'm kind of off topic.  

After we rededicated our lives to the Lord we began "really" attending the church I grew up in.  We got involved but Chris and I both began to feel as if God was leading us somewhere else.  We fought it for awhile.  We went to a really good church with a great pastor who wasn't afraid to preach the Word of God.  Plus, it was really the only church I'd ever known.  Plus my family went there too and could help me with my hyper-active little sweetheart during the services.  PLUS, I'm an introvert.  The idea of showing up at a church where we didn't know anyone scared the crap out of me.  Back then I would rather have eaten my own hair than meet new people. Have you ever looked for a new church?  The moment before you walk through a new church's doors for the first time has to be one of the most nerve-wracking experiences in the world.

Around this time another friend of mine from work invited me to her church.  It was a smallish Baptist church a lot like the one we were currently at but they were going through some changes with their music ministry and such.  So we went.  And we loved it, even though it was 30 minutes away and our "old" church was literally right down the street from our house.  That was an adjustment, let me tell you.  

We threw ourselves into that church.  We joined the choir.  I volunteered for Childrens Church and AWANA.  We taught VBS.  We met wonderful friends and really grew our faith under the teaching at that church. I can't stress enough how good it was for us to be there.  It was good for us to find our way and be "by ourselves" at church, so to speak.  Kind of hard to explain.  

We were at this church for a few years before we felt that God was moving us somewhere else.  Again.  Auughgh!  This was hard.  We loved "our" church and our friends.  For the first time we had a church family and a support system.  We didn't even have a clue where we were supposed to be going, just that perhaps our time there had come to a close.  

So we began visiting other churches.  First we went back to the church we had come from for awhile, just because we didn't know where to go.  While I didn't know exactly where we were supposed to go, I just knew that it had to be a Baptist church that preached the truth from the Bible.  A good children's program was important and a kickin' music ministry would be a major plus.  We visited a few places that just didn't feel "right".  We had two boys by this time and it was always so stressful to get everyone ready, so I really wanted to find a church close to home.  The one place in Gainesville where I had no interest at all in visiting was Free Chapel.  

A friend of Chris' from work had invited us several times.  Chris wanted to give it a try but I was adamant.  I did NOT want to go there for these important reasons that I had heard all of my life:  They handled snakes and I was afraid of snakes.  They made everyone there fall out and speak in tongues.  Members had to turn in their bank statements and tax forms so that the church could be sure to get all of their tithe money.  And if you got caught not tithing, you got kicked out.  You also had to pay for your parking space. I hated mega churches, (even though I had never been to one). And besides, we were Baptist people!  

One Sunday we had decided to visit our old church.  We were on the way when I realized that we were late because the service started at 10:30 instead of 11:00.  At that moment Chris' phone rang.  It was his friend from work calling to invite us to Free Chapel.  "Oh, fine!  Whatever you want to do.  At least we will get to hear some good music.  Let's just go so he'll quit asking us!  And I'm not giving them any money!"

So we went.  

Now remember, I had never been to a big church before.  I was used to arriving at church 10 minutes before service, dropping the kids off, and then enjoying church.  We pulled into the madhouse of a parking lot at Free Chapel.  I honestly felt as if I was at a Braves Game or something.  Cops were directing traffic and shuttle busses full of people were driving back and fourth all over the place.  It took for-ev-er to even get into the building.  And then we didn't know where to go.  We looked for our friend but he was running late.  So I was forced to make contact with one of the ushers.  He directed us down the stairs to the children's ministry along with about a million other people.  

I was so overwhelmed!  

I really wanted to go running back to the car!

But then I saw a familiar face.  Shaun's soccer coach from when he was 4.  He and his wife took us under their wings and showed us what to do.  We had to fill out forms.  Something else new.  It seemed to take forever and all I could think about was that by the time we got back upstairs the music was going to be over and that's the only reason I wanted to be there in the first place.  We finally got the kids dropped off and met up with Chris' friend.  He led us into the auditorium.  I saw Pastor Jentezen Franklin on the stage.  I recognized him from the billboards around town advertising the Forward conference.  He was singing "The Old Rugged Cross".  As the ushers found us seats up in the balcony and we began to climb (and climb and climb) to our seats I was grumbling to myself, "Hmmph.  If I wanted to hear this song again I could've just stayed at our old church".  

And then we found our seats and the sermon began.  I enjoyed myself.  No one asked for my bank statement or threw a snake at me.  No one even spoke in tongues.  At the end of the service I realized something.  We were home.  

Yes, it was different and it took some getting used to.  That was over six years ago.  We are still there.  Our kids are growing up under Godly leadership and being taught the true Word of God.  We love it there as much as we did all those years ago.  Chris even has a job there, so really, our church is our life! Most of our close friends are people from church.  Some of them have truly become our family.  We have a niche.  We have our people.  When something goes wrong (or even when something goes right) our "people" are first in line to pray with us, bring us food, watch our kids, or anything else we need.  And vice versa.  I really can't imagine doing life without our church or our church family.

To my Christian friends out there who don't have a church to call home, I say this: 

Try to find one!

It really is so important to find a place to worship.  We all need to be hearing from the Lord on a regular basis, and we also need fellowship and friendships with other believers. 

One other thing I've learned on this journey is to not get too caught up with labels.  When we began looking for a church I only wanted to visit Baptist churches.  I never, ever thought I would go to a Pentecostal church.  Or Non-Denominational.  Whatever we are!  There's no doubt in my mind that God wanted my family at Free Chapel.  He had plans for us and we would have missed out if I had stuck to my guns and not visited that Sunday.  Yes, its big and sometimes loud and crowded and not at all what we were used to, but our relationship with Jesus is more important than all of that.  When we began to focus on Him and get involved, our big huge church became really small.  Big or small.  Baptist, Methodist, whatever.  Find a church who's members love the Lord and will challenge you in your walk with Him.  

You'll be so glad you did!

4

The Agony of Alice by: Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

I promise that I really do read "grown-up" books.  Truly.  I am, in fact, in the middle of a fantastic Dean Koontz novel right now.  Sometimes, though, I'm too tired to think about what I read.  I just want to read something easy and funny and not have to pick apart the plot or think about it too much.    

The other day in the library (the same day that I set off the alarm) the kids and I were in the teen section looking for XBox games.  Speaking of the teen section... have you been over there lately?  Apparently, all books for the young adult audience must have vampires, witches, goblins, or wizards as the main characters. I'm all about a good vampire series, but I was dismayed at the lack of selection for teens in the library.  

Anyway.  Moving on. 

I was browsing the books in the teen section while waiting for the boys to choose their games.  In the midst of all that fantasy nonsense, a set of brightly colored books caught my eye way up on the top shelf.  The "Alice" books.  My elementary school librarian thought I would like these when I was in fifth grade.  And she was right.  Mrs. Gailey was usually right about what I'd like to read.  I loved that woman!  

So, I first read The Agony of Alice in fifth grade.  I laughed out loud then, and I laughed out loud last Friday when I read it again.  Alice just reminds me SO much of myself.  She's awkward.  She does some really dumb things.  She has a quirky way of thinking.  She is so stinking funny.  

I can't wait until Violet is old enough to read about Alice.  Maybe we'll read them together.  Or maybe I can introduce my niece to Alice and she'll love her as much as I do.  

1

Last year, I started out wanting to review and keep track of all the books I read.  I did really well at first and then sort of fizzled out.  But I really DO want to do this in 2013, so here we go again.  

My review of Deep and Dark and Dangerous by Mary Downing Hahn:

Way back in the fourth grade, I had a wonderful teacher.  Her name was Mrs. Westmorland and she was the best teacher in the whole entire world.  I mean, she was amazing.  She was also a lover of books, and we clicked.  She read many, many books aloud to our class.  A few that stick out in my mind:  The View from the Cherry Tree, Where the Red Fern Grows, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, and Wait til Helen Comes.  Wait til Helen Comes was my first ghost story, and I've been a sucker for paranormal stories ever since.  A few weeks ago the kids and I were at the library and I noticed Deep and Dark and Dangerous.  It's also a ghost story and was written by Mary Downing Hahn.  Of course I checked it out, even though it was "just a kid's book".  

When Mrs. Westmorland read Wait til Helen Comes, my socks were scared off.  I thought it was soooo scary!  I remember checking out from the school library time after time and reading it over and over up in my room, each time deliciously terrifying myself.  Well, that was in the fourth grade.  Even though I'm 32 now and didn't get scared, Deep and Dark and Dangerous is of the same caliber as Mary Downing Hahn's first ghost story.  I loved it.  I want my kids to read it, since they love to be scared as much as I do.  

I thought this book was wonderfully done, even though the characters have the same traits as some of the characters in Wait til Helen Comes.  We see lots of family tension, sibling rivalry, and a drowned ghost.  I think that if I had read this book back in the fourth grade it would have in fact left me "deliciously terrified".  This is always a tell-tale sign of a great ghost story!

2012

January.

Chris and I began our last half of School of Discipleship and later on that night, found out we were expecting again.  A few days later we began the annual Daniel Fast with our church which led to some of the most clearly conveyed instructions from God that I've ever experienced.  I developed a severe case of morning sickness that lasted all day, every day.  We began classes at our "new" co-op and made many dear friends.  My friend Kendra introduced me to The Hunger Games.  Jordan turned 6 years old.  

February.  

My uterus tore and I was put on bed rest.  We downsized and moved back into our first home.    I learned that it really is okay to ask for help.  We got a second car, thanks to my parents! We celebrated Shaun's 12th birthday.  

March.

I missed Jordan's first soccer practice due to bed rest.  The boys had an amazing combined birthday party.  Shaun sang onstage during a Kidpak service with the older members of Generation Praise.  Jordan had his first soccer game of the season.  Shaun joined a baseball team and even marched in a parade. My pregnancy progressed and we found out that our baby was a girl.

April.

We celebrated Easter.  God once again showed me just how He provides when our car broke down and our dryer quit...and we had the funds to repair both!

May.

Chris turned 34.  Boys finished up their seasons of soccer and baseball.  We began to get ready for summer.  After much debating, The Hubs and I decided that our daughter would be called Violet Victoria.

June.

We all attended Summer X-treme and grew closer to God.  My friends Kendra, Rachel, and I met Ted Dekker and Tosca Lee.  I sank into the worst bout of depression I've ever experienced.  Georgia sweated it's way through a major heat wave.  

July.

I Went up for prayer during an alter call at church and was delivered from depression once and for all in Jesus' name!  The next week really put my newfound freedom to the test when Chris lost his job.  We were humbled and learned the hard way to depend on God for everything.  The Lord continued to provide for us beyond our wildest dreams.  I was introduced to Duck Dynasty. 
The following week our hearts were broken when our Papaw passed away.  I saw my new OBGYN the day before his funeral and was sent for a 4D ultrasound.  The joy of seeing our healthy baby girl up close took a little of the sorrow away, but I still don't know how we made it through that week.  
We graduated from School of Discipleship and began to pray about what to do next.  Chris was blessed with another part time job as Chapel Pastor at Bethlehem Christian Academy.

August.
The boys and I began the new school year.  Grades 1 and 6!  We went on several "family dates" during our last days as a family of 4. My blood pressure made us worry a little.  I went to the hospital twice for pregnancy related issues. The kids and I went though the back to school prayer line at church and my pregnant stomach was blessed several times. Shaun joined the Kidpak Dancers at church.  Jordan joined Generation Praise.  It began to be a regular occurrence to be asked if I was having twins, and even triplets.  Lori, Kendra, Kelli, and Mandy threw me the most beautiful baby shower I've ever seen.  Chris and I had our 13th wedding anniversary.  Elissa came to visit.  Jordan began soccer practice for the fall season.  Violet was born. 

September.
Violet and I came home from the hospital.  Together, right on schedule.  I'm still thanking God for this.  I recovered from my c-section and we all struggled to adjust to having a baby in the house.  Shaun and Jordan fell head over heels in love with their sister, even though she cried and cried and hardly ever slept at night.  We were all loved on by our friends with meals, encouragement, prayers, and support.  
I made it to Jordan's first soccer game, just one week after having a baby.  I paid for it later-  it was too soon to be out- but it was worth it.  We had our first experience with horrible little league coaches who show favoritism.  

October.
Lots of Fall activities- hockey games, festivals, and Halloween.  I also started Weight Watchers and was able to fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans.  Shaun signed up for basketball. 

November.
Both boys were sick.  This is so rare, it sticks out in my memory.  They're hardly ever sick!  I saw both of my sons perform together for the first time with Generation Praise. My heart was heavy about the presidential election results.  Lori, Kelli, Ashley, Krista, and I attended a Twilight marathon and the premier of Breaking Dawn Part 2.  Violet was sick for the first time.  We began cloth diapering.  The boys began Christmas production rehearsals and we had our first Thanksgiving together as a family of 5.  

December.
Shaun and Jordan were in two Christmas productions.  Violet was sick again with another ear infection and croup.  I was sick, too.  The next week all 5 of us caught a stomach bug.  The week after that, Violet began her third round of antibiotics for a chronic ear infection.  Some friends and I celebrated Kendra's birthday.  The boys and I discovered our area's new community center.  We celebrated our first Christmas as a family of five .  Violet and I shared a birthday.   She turned 4 months old and I turned 32.  

Phew!  What a year it has been.  Full of ups and downs, but we've made it though with God's help.  May God continue to bless us all in 2013!

Young Poet's Society

Yesterday was the day.  My kids had been fearing this day for the past 10 weeks and honestly, so had I.  

The dreaded poetry recital at co-op.  

I've always been terrified of public speaking.  I'm not good at it.  I'm so self-concious and I hate being the center of attention.  I think it all stems from way back in seventh grade when I gave some kind of oral report in Mrs. Jarrard's science class.  My zipper was unzipped the entire time.  Fun.  I took the required "communications" course in college.  My instructor said everyone in her class would learn to love public speaking.  Wrong.  Somehow I made an A, even though I froze up on my last speech and completely forgot what I was supposed to talk about.  

Back to my kids.  They're so funny.  They don't mind singing in front of a crowd.  They do this all the time.  However, when I broke the news to Shaun that he was going to have to memorize a poem and a scripture to say aloud in front of our homeschool co-op, he freaked. And I secretly freaked with him.  I know how I would have felt about this in sixth grade.  Who are we kidding?  I would still feel the same way if I had to do it today!

I thought about not making him do it, but at the end of the day I decided to be responsible and parent-like.  I chose a four-line poem for him to memorize.  He picked his own scripture-  one that he had already memorized from church.  And we learned them.  

He was actually okay until the day of the recital.  He was so nervous yesterday!  The recital participants went on by grade, and then in alphabetical order, so he had a long time to wait!  The younger kids went first and said their poem as a class.  Here is a picture of Jordan with a few kids from his class, taken with my cell phone.  I can't find my camera anywhere!

This picture is deceiving.  He didn't say a word of his poem!  Afterward, he said he was just too nervous.  Stinker!

A bit later, it was Shaun's turn.  He had asked that I come and sit near the front so that I could cue him if he needed it.  My stomach was in knots as he made his way to the stage- I was so nervous for him.  And bless him...he froze.  Like mother, like son.  I whispered the first word to him and he remembered what he was supposed to say with a smile on his face, but he was so embarrassed and my heart hurt for him.  I was so, SO proud of him for staying up there and finishing even after he had a rocky start.

Of course, he wasn't the only one who messed up.  There were a lot of mistakes made by lots of other kids.  I reminded him of this when everything was over and he was saying that he sucked.  I also stressed how proud I was of him for sticking it out and finishing strong.  

At the end of the day, I was glad I made them do it.  Shaun lived through it, just like I knew he would.  The first time is always the hardest and we talked about how easy it would be next time since now he knows what to expect.  He just looked at me when I said that part.  Ha ha!

Weekend

Yes, two posts in one day.  I'm trying to get back in the habit of blogging.  I miss it, and I really do want to record what's going on in our little family.  

Here are some pictures of what we did this weekend. If I'm friends with you on Facebook, most are just a repeat of what you've already seen.  

Saturday:

We all went our separate ways in the morning- I took Jordan to his soccer game and Chris and Shaun went to church for the Man to Man breakfast.  Jordan, Violet, and I ran errands after the game and then went back home for a few hours.  

This picture of Violet cracks me up.  She looks so exasperated!

After Chris and Shaun came home, we headed out to our friend Ryan's birthday party.  He turned 21!  I've known Ryan since he was a little boy and the fact that he's 21 now makes me feel extremely old.  He had a costume party at the park.  Except we couldn't wear costumes because we were on the way to a hockey game afterward.  It was still a fun party, though, with lots of Halloween-type games.  

We had to leave the party a little bit early so we could make it to the game in time.  The boys got free Gladiators tickets through a reading program.  This was our third year doing the program, and we finally saw not one, but two fights!  Chis was really excited about that!

Pre-game goofiness:

This is what Violet did in during the game:

Ha!  She actually stayed awake about half the time.  She was so good.  Never made a peep.  

I hate pictures of myself lately, but my mother has convinced me that one day I'll be sad that I don't have more pictures of me with the kids.  So here's a shot of me with Violet at the game.

Today was a church day.  I had really been looking forward to today, because Bill Wiese was at Free Chapel!  He preached an unforgettable message about Hell and tons of people gave their hearts to the Lord.  It was one of the best services I've ever been in.  The boys had choir practice after service, and then it was (finally!) time for lunch.  We don't get out of church until after 2:00 when there's choir practice, so we're always really hungry.  Today we tried a new place.  Pastability.  It was so-so.  In my opinion, Panara Bread is better, but my Greek Salad was pretty tasty.  And Jordan learned to use chop sticks.  

After lunch, we split up again.  The boys went home and Violet and I ran some errands.  After I came home, we went to the track at my old elementary school and the boys and Chris played football.  

They played until it began to get dark and Violet and I walked a few laps around the track. Is it bad that every time I go to that track I have flash backs from 5th grade P.E.  I was always last in the mile run.  :(

When it was dark we came home and I washed bottles and got everything together for our school week while Chris and the kids watched The Walking Dead.  I have been trying to get in to this show for almost a year now.  I can't get past the first few episodes of season 1 and I don't want to watch season 3 until I know what's going on.  So I'll just wait for it on NetFlix.  

Now, all the kids are sleeping, The Hubs is gaming, and I'm going to sleep myself.  We were so busy this weekend. Sometimes I feel like we need another weekend to recovery from the weekend we just had!  

Those "Michael Jordan Pump" Shoes

My sister and I went to visit our grandpa last night.  She wanted some time to by herself with him, so I went back to the waiting room.

Really, one of the reason's I didn't want to stay in the room was because I didn't want to cry in front of my Pawpaw.  I don't know if he can hear what's going on around him or not, but just in case, I didn't want him to hear me crying.  If you've ever seen or heard me cry before, it's not pretty for the eyes or the ears.  :)

My daddy was in the waiting room, along with one of my aunts.  As she hugged me, I burst into tears.  Loud, gut-wrenching sobs.  Thankfully I was able to get it under control pretty quickly.  As I was wiping my tears and sniffling my dad grinned at me and said, "You know what I've been thinking about all day?  Michael Jordan and those Pump-Up shoes that Pawpaw paid $126 for just because you thought you needed them for basketball.  He never spent that much money on my shoes for a whole year, and he shelled it out for you for one basketball season.  Didn't you start slam-dunking pretty soon after you got them?"

I had to laugh.  I'd forgotten all about those shoes.  I was the envy of my third grade basketball team.  Looking back, the idea of those shoes was so ridiculous:  athletic shoes with a little basketball on the tongue that pumped air into the sole of the shoe when you pushed it.  A total gimmick, a complete waste of money.  I think I asked my parents for a pair and they said absolutely not.  I guess they had more important things to spend their money on.  But, my Pawpaw felt differently and I showed up at our first practice with a pair of white and purple Reebok Pumps.  

I thought I was hot stuff sporting those babies, let me tell you.  

There's not much to report today.  The doctor ordered a CT scan and I guess plans will be made depending on the results.  In the meantime, I'm thankful memories like Michael Jordan's Pumps. 

jordan's birth

I've been wanting to write up Jordan's birth story, mainly for myself. I don't want to ever forget it, and since he's turning six years old tomorrow I figured tonight was a good time to do it.

Two days before Jordan was born, I went in for my weekly doctors appointment. His heart rate was high when they monitored him. They gave me a non-stress test and the heart rate went back down to normal but Dr. Harrison wanted me to come back in the next day for more monitoring just to be on the safe side.

My mom came with me the next day. Same thing. High heart rate and non-stress test followed by... um. I think it's called a biophysical profile. This involves an ultrasound and we learned that Jordan wasn't breathing as often as he should, and his heart rate kept rising. I began to cry and my sweet mother got down to eye level with me and told me that I just had to give this whole thing to God. So I did. And things started to calm down.

I was seeing Dr. Harrison again that day. He wasn't my regular doctor, but I'd seen him the day before. It was a Friday and he originally wanted me to go home and come into the hospital for more monitoring the next day. I'm so glad my mom was with me. I can never think clearly when I'm stressed and that day was no exception. She asked the doctor if he knew about my history and told him a little about what had happened with Shaun. He left the room for a minute to review my chart, came back in and announced the new game plan: I was to go home, grab my stuff and then go check in to the hospital. He'd come by later that evening to do an amnio and if Jordan's lungs were okay he'd be born the next morning.

So on to the hospital I went. My sister met us there and Chris came as soon as he got off work. He stayed for awhile and then my sister agreed to stay with me while he went to lead worship at a youth rally. I think my mother left, too, so that she could pick Shaun up. Or maybe she went home to get my dad. I don't really remember.

Lori and I hung out at the hospital. We talked, laughed, and watched Full House reruns while we waited on Dr. Harrison to come do the amnio. I was so afraid of this. I hate needles, and let me tell you, that is one long needle! The doctor finally came into the room- he had to wait until after office hours because he wasn't on call that day. It means the world to me that he did that. I remember feeling so safe and cared for.

The doctor came in and told me what to expect with the procedure. I'd never had one before but kind of knew what to expect. He left, saying he'd be back with an ultrasound machine. A few minutes later, he stuck his head in the door and said, "Hey. Have ya'll seen an ultra sound machine in here?". Lori and I looked at each other and then glanced around the room. "Nope, not in here" we replied. Dr. Harrison sighed and left again.


After what seemed like forever, he came back into the room with a nurse, pushing an ultrasound machine. He plugged it in and, I swear to this, said "I don't even know how to use this one. How do I turn it on?". My sister said my eyeballs were about to pop out of my head. He must have noticed because he laughed and said, "Oh, don't worry. I didn't mean that I don't know how to use it. I just don't know how to turn it on. I've never used this one before. But they all work the same way once they're on!"

Okay.

He turned it on and began the ultrasound, explaining everything as he went: "See, baby's way down here so we'll insert the needle all the way up here so that it's far away from him." I laid there with my eyes closed, sweating with anxiety, with my huge stomach exposed for all to see. He reached for the tray beside the bed and suddenly stood up, slammed the tray back down onto the table and said (very loudly), "This tray doesn't even have a needle! This is a stupid tray!" He turned to look at the nurse, who was just standing there looking bored. "What do you want me to do", she asked? "I want you to go find a needle! I'm sure she's ready to have this done!" yelled my doctor. At this point the nurse scurried out of the room and I began to squeeze the life out of my sister's hand. Dr. Harrison turned to us and muttered, "Whoever heard of an amnio tray without a needle? I'm so sorry this is taking so long. Are you doing alright?"

We assured him that I was fine. The nurse came back and the doctor began another ultrasound to make sure Baby J hadn't shifted position. He hadn't, so we were good to go. He put the needle in (which actually didn't hurt at all) and began to draw the fluid out. That's when Jordan decided to kick the needle, sending it swaying back-and-forth while it was sticking out of my stomach. Once again my eyes turned into saucers and I squeezed my sister's hand. Dr. Harrison exclaimed, "Wow, I've never seen that before. Usually they shy away from the needle".

And that was my first sign that I was in for another strong-willed child.

The rest of the night was uneventful. My parents came by with Shaun. I think maybe my grandparents came too. That's a little fuzzy. Some people from our church came to pray with us. I wasn't in a regular labor and delivery room with a comfy bed. They put me in one of the rooms used for monitoring. Maybe all of the good rooms were taken. All I remember is that was one uncomfortable bed. Bright and early the next morning a nurse came by and said that the amnio results were great and that we'd be having a baby in about an hour. We called our parents and sat back to wait.

My family arrived and was able to see me before I went back for my c-section. I don't remember anything until I was getting my spinal block. I remember that because, like I said, I hate needles. When I was pregnant with Shaun, before the labor pains really kicked in, I had said there was no way in heck I'd get an epidural. I saw one at my childbirth glass and it had terrified me. Later on in my labor I begged for one, but I never progressed enough. By the time I was ready for my spinal block with Shaun I was too out of it to care about the huge needle going into my spine. Not this time. I was about to hyperventilate. The spinal guy got it all the way in and then, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm going to have to take this out and do it over". Ugh.

Somehow I made it though. Dr. Harrison came back to the hospital when he wasn't on call to deliver my baby. I think he's the best doctor ever! The surgery went smoothly and Jordan was born without a hitch. When the doctor held him up to me the first thing I noticed was that his nose was teeny tiny compared to the size of Shaun's. I think I was expecting him to look identical to Shaun, but as it turned out, he was his own person. Ha!

Chris went with Jordan to watch over him while he was getting checked out and my sister and cousin Ashley stayed with me in the recovery room. I think I kept asking if Jordan was breathing. After what had happened to Shaun while I was in recovery, I wasn't taking any chances. I got back to my room with my family and we waited for the nurses to bring the baby in. Shaun was there. He announced that he was going to hold the baby first, and then everyone else could except Lori. He didn't like her much back then for some reason.
We waited and waited and Shaun got antsy. My sister left to go do something but came back right after she left because she had run into her new nephew in the hall. Shaun was a total baby hog. No one could hold Jordan because Shaun wouldn't let him go!

After awhile the nurse came back in and took Jordan back to the nursery because his temperature was a little low. This visit turned into a week long stay in the hospital for antibiotics due to an infection. When this happens, every base is covered. Including a lumbar puncture to check for Meningitis. All I could think of was my friend from work. Her granddaughter had Meningitis right after birth and was brain damaged from it. Major panic set in. I didn't tell anyone about my fear. I preferred to suffer in silence back then, but I was scared out of my mind. I've never been so relieved as when that test came back negative a few days later.

Because Jordan was technically in the NICU, the neonatologist came in to talk with us. He had been Shaun's doctor six years earlier and he remembered us. Shaun got a kick out of that. He even talked to the doctor on the phone. Another thing Shaun did while I was in the hospital was to discover that hospital beds will raise all the way to the ceiling. I kid you not.

I stayed in the hospital a few extra days, but I still had to leave for home without my baby with me. My mom found me crying in the bathroom that morning before I was discharged. Shaun saw me too, which upset him. We made it though, and Jordan came home a few days later.

He had a wonderful homecoming, coming home to a house filled with his cousins. In fact, the first thing his cousin Jaycee did was try to pull his head off. We think she thought he was a baby doll.

And there you have it. Jordan's birth story. I can't believe he's going to be six years old tomorrow.

dreams

I have recurring dreams. Several of them. I frequently dream that I'm at the bottom of the ocean. My lungs are about to burst and I put my hands over my mouth and, in desperation, take a slow deep breath. Much to my surprise, I can breathe under water as long as my hands are over my mouth. That's all I can ever remember. I've always wondered what happens next.

As a child I would frequently dream that I was being chased by a stranger. I run and run and then finally get into a car to drive away. Only I don't know how to drive because I'm about 7 years old... and the inside of the car looks more like the cockpit of an airplane. Lots of knobs, meters, and dials. And that's all I ever remember. I've been having this dream for at least 20 years, and I've never gotten to the end of it.

Another dream I have all the time is that I'm home alone and someone is breaking into my house. I get the phone to dial 911 and I keep getting the numbers wrong. This dream has changed over the years. It actually reflects the type of phone I currently have. When I was first married my "dream phone" was our cordless phone. Now, it's my iPhone. Strange, huh?

The dream I have most often is this: I'm back in high school, junior year. I go to English class with Mrs. Clendenning. I haven't been to class in a while. I'm not sure why. Maybe I was skipping. But I'm there, and as soon as the teacher walks in she announces that it's final exam day. I begin to panic because I haven't been to class in weeks and weeks, so I have no idea what this test will cover. And if I fail it, I'll fail 11th grade. I've been having this dream since I was actually in 11th grade, and once again- I never get to the ending. Now here's the really strange part: a few months ago a friend of mine sent out an email announcing that she was putting her house on the market and needing to get rid of some things. She said that she had tons of homeschooling books and whoever wanted any of it was welcome to have it. I told her what I was interested in, and she came to co-op with a huge garbage bag full of curriculum for me to take home. In that bag I found, among other things, the same English book from my 11th grade English class.

Creepy.

I keep asking myself if this means anything significant. I asked a few other people too. Most of them just laughed. One asked if I'd done anything bad to Mrs. Clendenning or anyone else in that English class. In case anyone's wondering, the answer to that question is "no!". Chris says I worry to much and that when I stop worrying these crazy dreams will stop.

I am curious though. I haven't really studied dreams since Psychology 1101 back in college. I think I'm going to do some research on my own. Maybe the Holy Spirit's trying to tell me something though my subconscious. Or maybe recurring dreams are just little quirks we all have to keep us guessing.

why I'm thankful, day 22

I had intentions of posting about my grandparents all at once, but I guess they're just too good to all fit on one page! So tonight I'm thankful for my other grandparents, my Pawpaw and my Granny.

How can I put them into words? I'll start with Pawpaw. Most people call him Doc. I'm not really sure why. I was his first grandchild, and he spoiled me profusely. Not just me... he spoiled all of his grandchildren. My grandparents are frugal people. They waste nothing and spending money has never been their favorite thing. As a child my sister and I would sometimes go home with them after church on Sundays. Usually, if a race wasn't on television, we would go out for lunch and then to Rose's. How many of you remember when Rose's was at the mall? Inside the store, Pawpaw would walk around with us girls while Granny did her shopping. She would always tell us before we entered that we would not be getting toys that day. Pawpaw, however, would whisper for us to both pick us out "a little something" and pay for it himself before Granny made it back to the front of the store. She would just shake her head and smile.

Pawpaw had slicked back hair. When I was really little I would mess it up during church. He hated that a lot! Once, during a game of hide and go seek, he climbed up a tree to hide from us. I'll bet we searched for him for thirty minutes before we finally heard his laughter up above our heads. He could also do one magic trick, which he perfected over the years: he would swallow a piece of paper and make it come out of his ear. Good times! He would always let us kids choose what to watch on TV as long as his "race" wasn't on. During my basketball playing days I wanted to go to camp and my parents said no because it was too expensive. The next thing I knew, Pawpaw was signing me up. He came to all of my ball games and would give me constructive criticism on how to improve my game during the ride back home.

He loves to go to gospel singings, but hates "canned music". I never thought he had a serious side until one day he rode with me to pick Jordan up from preschool. We were waiting in the carpool line and he started talking to me about Shaun. I don't remember exactly what he said... something about how he wished Shaun was able to do something or another... it was something about the disability. My Pawpaw has never been the most tactful person in the world, and I just didn't feel like talking about Shaun that day. I got all offensive and turned to look at him and let him have it, but he had tears in his eyes. And that meant the world to me. He knew how I felt. He knew I was hurting, he just didn't know what to say to me or how to say it. He's always making me laugh. He loves me and my children. He loves his garden, fishing, and his tractor. And he loves his wife.

My Granny is something special, too. As I mentioned above, she is frugal. My mom told me once that Granny went to a store to buy new furniture. Rather than paying with cash or a check, Granny had several weeks worth of paychecks in her pocketbook, which she just signed over to the store. One summer she was teaching me how to freeze green beans. At the end of the day she sent me home several bags of the frozen beans. One of the bags had been reused over and over since the 1980's. I kid you not. My mom, sister, and I used to race to the kitchen after family dinners so that we could throw away the plastic plates and cups before Granny would start washing them.

My granny loved me tirelessly through my rebellious teen years and didn't bat an eyelash when she took me Christmas shopping and I asked her to buy me bright red Doc Martens. She did, however, have a thing or two to say when I dyed my hair pitch black.

I used to sit with her every Sunday at church and listen to her alto voice singing along with the hymns. She would always let me go through her purse. I was always amazed that she had lots of cash in her wallet. I would start counting it and she would shush me and tell me to put it away. She used to do the motions to "Here is the church" with me all the time. When she would "open the doors and see all the people" she would laugh and say, "Go home with me, go home with me!" the way all southern ladies do after church. I would always beg to go home with her. She could usually talk my mom into it. She used to let me take her egg beater out to the sand box. She was the first one to tell me that I was getting boobs.

When Shaun was born she kept him once a week to give my Mamaw a break. She would take him everywhere. To the grocery store, to Wal-Mart, to get his hair cut, fishing, you name it. Now that she's getting older, it's hard for her to keep all of the kids at once, so they get to go by themselves. They love it, and so does she. No matter what time of day it is when we visit, she asks Shaun what he wants to eat... and then cooks whatever he requests. Usually he wants peas, fried okra, and macaroni. I've been told that nothing I cook can compare to Granny's food.

She's always been there for me. When my uncle suddenly passed away, I was able to be there for her. In a way, we were suddenly equal with each other. We hadn't went through the same things with our children, but there's always a kind of common ground between parents of kids with special issues and kids who have died. A "club" of sorts. We began talking about our struggles and comparing our anti-depression medications. I'm so thankful I have her.

Neither of these posts have done any of my grandparents justice. There's so much more I could write. Years of memories and smiles and laughs and tears. But for now I will just end by thanking God for my wonderful grandparents.

Celebrating 60 years of marriage!

where I was on September 11, 2001

September 11th is tomorrow. It's really hard to believe ten years have passed. Everyone seems to be reflecting on where they were when they heard the news that our country was under attack. It reminds me of the way people used to talk about where they were when they found out that President Kennedy had been shot. As a young child, I always thought that was kind of silly... they way folks can remember every little thing about what was going on around them that day. Who's class they were in when the announcement came over the loud speaker. What they had for breakfast that morning. Who they were sitting with in school that day. It just seemed overly dramatic.

And then came September 11th, 2001. A few weeks ago my children asked me what I was doing when the planes crashed into the towers. And, surprisingly, I could remember every little detail about that day.

I remember what I wore to work... teal shirt, black pants, and black sandals that had a worn spot on the sole.

I remember that I had plans to go to lunch with my friend Angela.

I remember that I was looking forward to going to my sister's college volleyball game that night.

I was still working at Liberty Mutual. I was at my desk, working away at my computer and listening to Deftones through my headphones. It was a pretty boring morning. I had sensed some excited activity going on around me, but I didn't look up from my computer. I was working on my undisclosed operator reports, and those were always kind of interesting. I was reading a policy holder's account of the accident her grown daughter had been involved in while borrowing her vehicle when I noticed that the other ladies on my aisle were talking. Loudly. This was strange... there was always a good bit of non-work related talking going on, but we were always pretty quiet about it. I looked up to see several women huddled around the cubicle across the aisle from me, talking loudly. I pulled my headphones off and joined them.

Someone had heard that a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. At this point, we all assumed it was an accident. Everyone kind of stood around talking for a few more minutes and then we went back to our desks. No one was working anymore. A little later someone announced that another plane had flown into the other tower. We all pulled up CNN or Fox News on our computers... this was an absolute no-no. But no one even bothered trying to be secretive, and management didn't care. We all stared in disbelief at the images from New York. People started talking about terrorism. I was so young and clueless. I was a newly married 19 year old who worked full time and had just started night classes and had a sick baby at home. Paying attention to world events was the last thing on my to-do list at night. When someone mentioned terrorists to me, I laughed it off. This was America! No one would dare attack us, and why would they even want to? It's embarrassing to think about how totally naive I was back then.

Then, the office manager sent out an email. I remember only two lines: "...Two plans have crashed into the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in an apparent act of terrorism. A television has been set up in the cafeteria."

Wow. That's when everything changed for me. I no longer felt safe. I wanted to go home to my baby. And I began crying for Chris' brother, who was a Marine. I knew he'd be involved in a war. I went to call my grandmother. Chris and I only had one cell phone to share back then, and he had taken it that morning. I had to wait in line at the "public" phone by the restroom. I called my Mamaw and asked if she wanted me to come home. She informed me that it would be silly for me to come home and that she and Shaun were just fine. She said she'd be watching the news and that she'd keep my mom posted on any new developments (my mom and I worked for the same company).

I went to lunch by myself. I picked up a sandwich from Subway and ate in my car while listening to the radio. By then, all of the reports were coming in: another plane had crashed into the Pentagon, and another plane had crashed into a field. I went back to work and continued to watch the reports on-line.

After work, on the local radio station, people were calling in to announce prayer vigils. I'll bet there were a hundred prayer meetings in Gainesville that night. I got to my grandma's house and continued to watch the news. Chris came home and said that he had talked with his mother, who had talked with his brother, who was ready to fight. Gotta love those Marines! We decided to go on to my sister's game. I was scared to go anywhere, but didn't want to sit at home and watch the news all night either. One ironic thing. My sister sang the National Anthem before her volleyball game.

After the game we had pizza and came back home so that I could study. My first college math test was scheduled for the next day. We laid Shaun down for the night in our bed. We had been working so hard to get him to sleep in his own bed, but I think he slept with us for at least a year after September 11. I wanted him close to me.

After he fell asleep I got out my math book and sat down at the table. The television was on, so I didn't get much studying done. I kept watching that plane crash into the tower over and over and over.

I didn't do much sleeping that night. I was afraid more attacks were coming.

And that's how I spent September 11, 2001.

on edge

We stayed at church a long time last night. Like, until 10:00. Of course we were starving afterward, so we went to Waffle House with our good friends, the Cooks. As anyone knows, when you go somewhere with the Cook Family, they''ll be a lot of talking involved. And last night was no exception. We split up into 3 tables. Men at the counter. Kids at a booth, and us women at the booth behind them. We chatted and chatted while we were waiting on our food. Things were relatively calm, save one flying spoon incident.

It was almost midnight when we finally rolled into our driveway. I know. How irresponsible of us, right? The kids went straight to bed without even brushing their teeth, since we had to be up and ready to go to our new co-op's registration this morning. I was really tired too, but Chris had absolutely no clean work clothes. So I sat up and waited on the washing machine.

I read the Bible and looked over Facebook while I waited. I was just about ready to finally, finally go to sleep when I heard rain. I went out on the front porch and saw that it wasn't rain after all, but wind. Lots and lots of wind blowing tree limbs and leaves everywhere. Plenty of thunder and crazy lightening, too. It was pretty spooky, and the wind was kind of concerning, so I was up until the storm passed. I think it was around 3:00 or 3:30 when I finally decided it was safe enough to sleep. I slept an hour, and then I heard Jordan crying. He had a stomach ache. I brought him into our bed and tried to sleep again, but I absolutely cannot stand to sleep with my children. I've never been a mom who needs her kids with her all night long. I need my space. I need to be able to move around. I just can't sleep peacefully with a child pressed up against my side. So I dozed on and off until Chris left for work. I was finally able to move Jordan over, and then we all slept soundly until 9:00.

We made it to registration and... registered. Ha ha! My mom treated all of us (my brood plus my sister and her kids) to a movie. By the time we left registration we had missed the 1:00 movie, so we decided to do lunch first. After lunch we still had time to kill, so we went to Marshall's. All of us. We were there for a really long time. The kids got some new clothes and we were checking out and... Shaun had a meltdown. Now, I am somewhat used to his meltdowns. He doesn't have them very often anymore, but when he was little, they were a regular thing. 11 year old meltdowns are different from 5 year old meltdowns. 11 year old meltdowns are fueled by pubescent hormones. They involve smart-mouthed remarks, tears, and a lot of self pity. Very embarrassing. And he made me mad. So mad that, after we had gotten outside and out of all the other customers' earshot, I said some things that I regret. Eventually things calmed down. Shaun apologized, and I did too.

We finally made it to the movies. We saw Smurfs. It was actually pretty good. The parts I saw were good, anyway. I made about a million trips to the concession stand for drink and popcorn refills. The worst thing that happened at the theater was my mom knocking a cup of popcorn out of my hand. I can handle that!

On the way home from the movie, the boys were playing their video games. All was well. Then Shaun wanted his game that Jordan was playing. And Jordan had a meltdown. A 5 year old meltdown. Ugh. It wasn't pretty. Eventually he calmed down and we made it back home.

Right now, the boys are having their punishment: they're not getting to go swimming and instead are doing some chores around the house. They've accepted their consequences pretty maturely. Maybe they learned their lesson.

Today's been pretty stressful. The 100+ temperatures in Georgia today aren't helping things. We're tired, we're hot. No wonder we're on edge. I'm calling for an early bedtime.

One more thing. On the way home, I was reminded of how our life was about 6 years ago. Shaun was really out of control and we had no idea what was wrong or what to do about it. Those meltdowns? They happened many times a day. Every single day. We know now that epilepsy mixed with some food sensitivities were causing most of it. Things are so much better now. In fact, I can't remember the last time we had a day like today. I mentioned this to my mom, saying something about how we should praise the Lord for how much progress we've made. I'm not sure she appreciated it right then, but I'm sure she will later. :)