Monday, November 24, 2008


If you haven't designed your Christmas cards yet, but have the picture picked out, our photographer has GREAT rates on design. Go to:

I am somewhat partial since E got to be a little model:)

Support moms people...Zoie's fantastic!!

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Saying Goodbye

I just wrote my final post on Dream Planter and thought I was done for the night, but I feel hollow, like I just said goodbye to a good friend or like I feel traveling home from vacation...looking to what lies ahead not with dread, but without that extra spring in my step. When I signed off I felt like I was closing a good Danielle Steel book for the last time or a heart pulling devotional...or the Shack.
Like the Shack, I think this past year opened up a lot of opportunity and with that came a lot of intense soul searching that forced me to reconcile and continue to work on some old demons. I am clinging to the phrase "I am fond of you." in looking ahead to the next fun thing God's got in His agenda for me....I am hoping my agenda doesn't prevent it and that is one of the demons that continues to plague me.
It's funny, at Fuddrucker's tonight they played that Breakfast Club song...Don't Forget About Me..which happened to be my senior song in high school and as I was trying to summarize our adoption finalization experience, I found myself praying that...don't you forget about me...don't, don't, don't, don't you...forget about me. As I wipe snotty noses, change a million more diapers, get up every few hours to comfort a painful teething cry....don't forget about me as I step off the cloud of adoption and into the depths of parenting....don't forget about me as I navigate raising a black child in a white family....don't forget about me as I cry out in not understanding what the 7 year old needs...don't forget about me as autism rears its ugly head at the most inopportune time...don't forget about me as my body turns 34 but my insides resonate 17. I am hoping He hasn't because living this past year in the freedom of His plans was THE most wild ride of my life and I'd like more....I think.
So goodbye 33...the year 2 babies became 3 and I started to scratch the surface on what it really means to trust and that grace and love and faith are not just foo-foo words found on devotional books in Wal-Mart, but they are real life forces that offer safety, comfort, and FREEDOM in our relationships and from what plagues us.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

I hate Baby Monitors

Is this wrong to say? I really do hate them. I know that they are a great tool for making sure your baby is all good. My parents didn't have one and because of that my capacity for yelling is off the charts. They also didn't have baby gates and when you mix that scenario with a set of stairs and a toddler with a horse on wheels...bye bye happy curly redhead...hello dr. emergency. You gotta love the 70's! Anyway, back to the monitor. Do I really need to hear her make every single move in her crib 24/7? I know I think so too, but good grief, it really is annoying...I can even hear her inhale snot and blow a bubble out. What if they invented a monitor where the noise level had to get to a certain decibel before you would be notified. That I could handle. Now she's singing...30 seconds ago she was crying...ok back to fake see what I mean??? It could drive anyone she's hitting her suckyface on the crib slat and her cd is over...good grief....moaning ensuing....fake crying....come get me or else wail!!! Gotta go...that's the decibel I'm talking about.

Ball and Chain

Each year for either my birthday or Christmas, someone usually gets me some type of warm, always fashionable, socks. These are a pair that I've had for a couple years and they have strings with balls on the end (insert story of ex here). If I was a cat I would do nothing but play with these socks. So, as my snot nosed booty was racing around to give E her 3pm feeding before squealing out the door to pick up the older girls I was SHOCKED when I tripped over nothing. Then I looked down and shapow! Here's the my rush I had knotted myself. Boy, is that an understatement. As I waddled to the kitchen to add the formula to the bottle, I felt like a prisoner in my own socks. A prisoner....a prisoner of my own bitterness, of anger I can't seem to let go of, feeling stuck in my own own self. Maybe it's the cold medicine speaking, but even though I could have easily slid one or both of these off, I didn't. I continued to wade in the waddling of being trapped. I laughed out loud at how ridiculous I looked. I grabbed my phone and took a pix of it and then I chewed on the metaphor of how this does or doesn't reflect my reality. The reality is I can get out of whatever is entangling me quite easily-I think. The question is do I want to do the work to do that. I don't know, I'll let you know. Meanwhile, the darn things are still knotted...good thing I married an Eagle Scout!

If Snot Was Sexy....

If snot was sexy, I would be Angelina Jolie when she first met Brad on the set of Mr. & Mrs. Smith. Because really there's nothing sexier than an adultress stealing a married man from his already smokin' hot wife....I digress. Did anyone see Brad and Jen on Oprah this week? VERY different interviews on behalf of Oprah...Jen got raked, Brad got fondled...just my opinion, again I digress. So, back to the snot. I am beyond myself with leakage, red nose, no voice, ear pain, coughing up green goo...the list could continue below the waist, but I am sparing you. So, I went to the Sunflower Market in Murray yesterday (LOVE them!) and got some pro-biotics. I willingly swallowed 14 million bacteria along with the Actifed, Tylenol, Nasonex, Zycam....I would rather have had a REAL cocktail, but this had to be done. So, as I bend over to pick up my Costco TP roll that has taken the place of the non-existent kleenex boxes, since I can't find my way to remember things when I actually went to the store, I leaked all over the couch. How can one person produce this much snot??
If snot was sexy my nose would be a Victoria's Secret thong.
If snot was sexy red and cracking would be the new tan and bronze.
If snot was sexy Chanel would mix it with water, bottle it and sell it in Nordstrom's for an obscene price to panicked husband's at Christmas.

May all your snot be sexy....

Tuesday, November 18, 2008


Thanks for adjusting your links to grow with our little family! As most of you know, we have grown from 4 to 5 and since the judge has deemed Esther entirely ours all things important to me have grown, including the blog.
I hope to hear from all of you!