What's Been Happening...

.... around Clancy's house? 


Well, I'm not redecorating!  And you know what the funny thing is about that statement?  I'd have to have already decorated to be "re"decorating!  I've never really done the first phase.  Just what was here when I moved into my house... the wall colors, the curtains (both of which I hate now!), and added my own bits here and there.  Someday....


So, as I mentioned yesterday, I'm going to try to blog more.  Try to "get my groove on" again.  We'll see.  It might just be ramblings and randomness, but, wait, isn't that what my blog has always been?  :-)  For now I'll start with what I've been up to.



For the months of November and December I spent a fair amount of time dipping pretzels.  I guess I should say the months of September, October, November and December.  It's been four months of dipping, really?  Well, I guess that takes up some time.  I've been less inclined to grumble about the whole dipping thing this time around.  I don't know why, but somehow I enjoyed it more than I usually do.  I was more cheerful about it overall and that, my friends, is always a good thing. 

Dipping ended, quite literally, on Christmas Eve.  I had a biggish order come in on the 23rd, and since it was for a very good friend of mine, I did it.  I don't normally do things that close to Christmas, but this was an exception.


I have grand plans every year of making "neighbor gifts" for my friends and neighbors.  More like "neighbor treats", I suppose.  I like to make a plate of yummies and bring them around to those I love.  Most years I end up scrambling around, stressed out and crazy trying to get it done.  This year was going to be the exception!  I had the best intentions of making the treats on the 23rd and then delivering them in the morning on the 24th.  But...between the last minute pretzel orders and trying to sew my kids pajamas for Christmas, I ended up not making any plates to deliver.  There were a lucky few people who, if they caught me at home when they dropped by their own goody plates, got a plate of pretzels, caramel corn and caramel pecan bars that I had on hand from my last minute order!  So, to all those who've gotten a treat plate from me before and did not this year, please forgive me.  It was a very conscious decision to let that one go this year and I even allowed myself to shed all guilt surrounding the issue.  And I'm happy about it.  And I still love all of you who didn't see me with a plate of treats.  (The guilt was eased knowing that most of you, like me, had an abundance of treats to tempt you during the holidays and mine would likely not be missed)

There's always next year.

So, I mentioned that I decided to sew my children PJ's this year.  I always get my kids jammies to open on Christmas Eve.  Lots of people do this tradition.  As a child, my mother always sewed our Christmas Eve pajamas and this year I decided that I would too.  I started in plenty of time.  I suppose plenty is a relative term... it was plenty of time for me, the great procrastinator.  It was a good week and a half before Christmas and THAT is a LOT of time for me!  I could only work on them at night after my kids were in bed because my sewing machine is out in the open of our living room/dining room area and I wanted them to be surprised about the fabric they were getting, if not the fact that they were getting homemade pajamas.

Let's just say that what started out as me having lots of time to sew one of the simplest things there is to sew, ended up being one of the more nightmarish projects of my illustrious sewing career.  I was up sewing until 3am on the 22nd and until 2am on the 23rd (and more nights than that, but those were the winners for lateness).  I'll just say that if you're ever buying flannel to sew on, plan on a LOT of shrinkage... so much that you might have to change the whole layout of the pattern for cutting which might cause you to need more fabric, which the store just might run out of a mere two days after you bought it... which might cause you to have to buy a whole different fabric, which by now you realize you'll need extra fabric for shrinkage, but how much extra might be out of your realm of comprehension and you'll STILL come up short which, by this time, it might be December 23rd at 11:00 at night and you can't get more fabric because the store is closed and the darned PJ's need to be FINISHED, WRAPPED and UNDER the tree by the next evening (but you can't sew when your kids are awake).  *big gasp of air*  So, you might just have to spend an extra TWO hours adjusting the pattern to make the amount of the !*$#@$ shrunken fabric work for what you've got, which will make you VERY frustrated indeed.  Not to mention a myriad of other strange problems you might encounter with the other TWO pajamas you're making. (yes, that story was only about Ella's PJ's... Mac's and Rohan's had their own set of "issues" that were very special and cry-worthy.)

So, yeah.  I had a wonderful, nostalgic time sewing PJ's for my kids. (are you sensing the sarcasm?  it's hard to pass on through a blog)  But the important part is that I made it work, got it done and they LOVE them!  Rohan is always so sad if his "monster" jammies are dirty and he can't wear them.  And, actually that statement is true for Ella and Mac as well (aside from the "monster" part!).

So, the weeks before Christmas I was exceptionally busy.  I can't remember what I was doing aside from dipping and homeschooling... oh, and trying to get all my "shopping" done.  I was actually fairly well prepared in that arena this year.  I was almost done shopping a good week before Christmas, which is UNHEARD of for me!  I was proud of myself for that one.  I even got most of the presents wrapped about two weeks (maybe a week and a half!) before Christmas.  Usually our tree is barren of presents until about the 23rd or sometimes the 24th.  Go me!

I had been up too late for too many nights and pushing myself with the sewing and the dipping and the homeschooling and the whatever-elseing and by the time Christmas Eve rolled around I was exhausted.  Regardless, we had a nice quiet Christmas Eve.  We went over to my mom's house.  I made Thai Noodle Soup, my mom made potato soup and we had little baguettes of bread.  It was a simple dinner followed by hot chocolate, shortbread and our tradition of pulling out my mom's nativity set.  Each piece is wrapped in cloth and we take turns pulling them out and telling the story each person played in the birth of Jesus Christ.  We did this same thing in my growing up years and it's special for me to have my kids experience it too.  Especially because it takes the focus off of the commercialism that is ready and waiting to happen the next morning and puts the focus, quietly, simply and sweetly back on the birth of Jesus Christ and the gift that he was and is to the world.  It was tender and it completely suited my exhausted but content state of mind and body.

An observation that we make every Christmas Eve is the fact that the children start telling the PARENTS it's time to go home.  We usually have to pull teeth to get our children to leave my mom's house.  They never want to go.  But Christmas Eve, they were putting their shoes on and telling Dustin and I that it was time to go home.  And we, of course, obliged them.  Home we went! 

Upon arrival, all three of them ran in to brush their teeth as quickly as they could.  (again, a once a year occurrence.)  They forgot, in their haste to reach their beds, to open one special present (homemade with much love and sacrifice!).  I reminded them and they came and ripped open their special Christmas Eve presents.  They oooohed and ahhhed appropriately and I felt very good about my efforts and all the metaphorical hair I lost during the sewing ordeal.  (I never ACTUALLY pulled my hair out in frustration, but I wanted to.  A lot.)

Mac loved his dartboard jammies, Ella loved her big dots (that was NOT my first choice in fabrics, but by the time I had to buy replacement fabric, it was slim pickins!), and, strangely, Rohan threw a fit about his monster jammies.  He didn't like them and he didn't want to put them on.  After a little coaxing, he finally did and then he was upset (as was I) because the elastic was too big and the pants were falling off.  I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.  I measured both of the boys' waistlines while they were asleep.  It worked on Mac, but not my skinny little Rohan. 

Never fear!  I have a seam ripper and my sewing machine was still out.  So, in about 5 minutes I had the seam opened, elastic adjusted and sewn in place, the seam sewn shut again and a happy little boy.  Suddenly his monster jammies were cool (his fabric was my favorite by far!) and he ran off to go to bed!

We tucked in our little munchkins and got to work doing the things parents do on Christmas Eve after their children are nestled.... which, in this case, involved watching the new Harry Potter.  ☺  Really we were worried that the kids would be awake for a while and so we sat down for a bit and killed time with the DVD player.  It only took about 15 minutes before the three little ones had visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads and we got to work.

And, amazingly enough, I was in bed before midnight.  That's NEVER happened on Christmas Eve.

I woke in the morning to the sound of the shower.  Dustin had been awake for a long time and decided to take a shower hoping that the kids wouldn't wake up while he was in there.  Of course, that slight shift in the noises of the house must have woken the kids because within minutes they were upstairs surrounding my groggy-I-wish-I-could-sleep-more self.  We made them wait, as parents do, in our room while I went and turned the tree lights on.  We made them brush their hair... well, Ella and I did anyway... and we gathered and said a prayer and talked for a minute about the why of it all- Jesus Christ's birth.  It was neat.

Rohan, Mac and Ella waiting to go see if Santa did, indeed, come!

Then, the wonderful madness that is Christmas morning ensued.  It was very fun.  We had a wonderful, magical, toy-filled time and I felt gratitude for my little growing family and the amazing people I'm blessed to have in my home.  And here are a few little pics for the picture hungry!

 Dustin was very irritated with the people who package children's toys.  They make them iron-clad stuck in those packages!!! :)  Isn't he cute?  It became a personal vendetta for him to get this toy opened completely before we could proceed with unwrapping presents!  I ♥ Dustin.

Those cute little monkeys in their new jammies.  

 Don't you love Mac's face?  It's so Christmas morning!  Ella is so sweet.  

Rohan LOVED his remote control car.  In fact he still loves it and he's actually a really good little RC driver!  (And look at his extra cute PJ's!  The child will NOT wear a shirt to bed.  Somehow he's decided that's the way it is and once he's decided, he's not easily swayed.  So, he is shirtless.  Saved me having to sew a top, so I won't complain!  ☺)

At Dustin's company work party we had a white elephant gift exchange.  We ended up with these goofy-yet-cute sock monkey slippers.  We weren't sure what we'd do with them, so we wrapped them and gave them to Mac.  He thought they were the coolest and Rohan and Ella were quite jealous.  They both inquired why THEY didn't get sock monkey slippers.  Anyone know where to buy these silly things?

We acquired a gigantic box Legos from a friend of mine.  It's HUGE.  My kids (and I!) love Legos more than any toy and were SO excited to see this massive collection unveiled with the tearing of the wrapping paper!

 I even made Dustin take a few pictures of me, since last year there was not a single shot of the mother of the family in the family archives.  So, I remedied that this year.  See?  Don't I look all sorts of Christmas-morningy?

We went to my mom's house later in the day... about 4:00 and we ate snacky food and opened a few more presents.  It was relaxing and wonderful to have nothing to do but be together.   

And I will end my Christmas Chronicle at this point because I am going to bed now.  I'll tell more later.  (It's really not as late as the time stamp shows... I'm publishing this later so it will be "tomorrow" when it posts, because it makes me feel better.  It's really only 10:30pm and I am treating myself to my bed and my pillow and some rest!  Just FYI, if ever the time stamp says 12:08am, it was a scheduled post.  I always set posts that I want to publish later to come at 12:08am.  Don't ask me why it's 12:08am... just one of those quirks.☺)

Happenings

Yesterday I was talking with a friend of mine, Beckie, who is one of the most ambitious and creative people I've ever had the pleasure to know.  I would tell you to go look at her blog and see all the projects she is ALWAYS doing, but she's a private blogger, so you'll just have to take my word for it.  She's amazing. 

Beckie was telling me yesterday how she's redecorating her boys' bedroom.  Stars Wars themed.  Too cool!  She proceeded to list all the things she was doing to redecorate and telling me about the amazing deals she found on fabric, bedspreads, pillows (which she's having someone embroider "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away..." on them!), and telling me about the paint and color schemes she's laid out.  As she spoke (on the phone) I had a vision of Beckie on one of those redesign-your-space-on-a-budget type of shows.  Trading Spaces is coming to mind, but maybe that show isn't even on anymore?  I don't know as I don't have TV.  Anyway, I said as much to her that she should have her own show.  She might have thought I was joking, but I was deadly serious.  I wonder if I could be her first "victim"?  My house needs some serious love in the decorating department.

Anyway, the point to all this is that when I told her this, she told me it's just her hobby.  Her house is a canvas and she is the artist.  It's always beautiful and it's always morphing into the next awesome project.  If I'm being honest with myself, I feel twinges of jealousy and that self-deprecating voice in my head starts yapping when I talk to Beckie about (or see) her latest project.  I wish I had some of her creativity!  And her motivation.  I don't do the decorating thing very well.  Maybe I would if I ever gave myself the chance, but it just never seems to be a priority as there's always something else pulling at my time and my finances.  And, as long as I'm being honest, I will say that I don't do motivation well either, which is a requirement for projects like Beckie does.  I'm a procrastinator through and through and I seem to function best and get the most done with a looming deadline to spur me along.  

Ok, I'm getting off track again.  Have I ever mentioned I'm a sucker for tangents too?  My husband (among others) gets very frustrated when I'm telling a story because I start telling five other stories amid the first story I started.  Kinda like right now, how I'm telling you about tangents.  It doesn't take much.  Anything shiny and I'm distracted!  (At least that's what Dustin says, in jests of love.)

So, the real point is that, in talking to Beckie, I started to wonder what I have been doing lately?  I voiced that thought aloud and started to say how I blog a lot, but then I stopped myself mid-sentence, because, no, I don't really do much of that lately, do I?  I haven't seen my friends much.  I haven't been cleaning much.  I haven't been doing anything much and I'm really not sure what it is that I do all the time!  Beckie pointed out that I do homeschool my son, and there's truth in her words.  That does take up a large chunk of my time, energy and focus, but I feel like there should be more.  I should have something to show for the end of the day, right?  Something for me? 

So, that's been on my mind.  I've been trying to figure out what it is I do all the time.  I've decided, since it's a new year and all that...(I'm not much of a goal setter, if you  haven't guessed)...  I'll try blogging again!  I might never be the blogger I once was.  I might never have that daily muse come and write essays across the parchment of my mind, but I can try, darn it! 

So, I think I'll try to blog a little more.  Blog about what's been happening around my house, in my life and in my brain for the last few weeks (months... whatever...) 

What I'm trying to say is stick around a while!  Be on the lookout for more postings on this, here, blog.

Rant

I love my sister.  Dearly.  She is wonderful, creative, thoughtful and fun.  She has a knack for making things beautiful.  She also has a weakness for Webkinz.

For any of you who might not know what a "Webkinz" is... a Webkinz is simply a stuffed animal.  Upon purchasing said animal you open a little thing attached to their ear, neck, leg, waist... (I don't really know what part it's attached to because, unlike my sister, I avoid Webkinz at all costs)... that has a code on it.  This code gets you into a "virtual world" for your new pet.  My sister's darling children have owned a Webkinz, or perhaps several Webkinz pets for a few years now.  My sister thinks it's great fun and loves to help her children take care of their "pet" in the "virtual world". 

For several years (probably since she bought her first "pets") my sister has told me that I should get these for my kids and I've resisted in every manner possible.  I have even told her that I don't need any other reason for my children to want to get onto some think-for-you, creativity-sapping electronic device (in this case, the computer) and exisit, even for a little bit, in some non-physical plane that is NOT reality (ie., the Webkinz world).  They get enough of that with our Wii that I don't let them play very often.

So, mid-December, my sister called me several times while I was in a movie theater.  I had my phone on vibrate, so I didn't hear the calls and my phone was in my purse so I didn't see the calls either.  When I got out of the theater, I noticed her missed calls and called her back.  She told me that she had been in a store and they had Webkinz for only $5 and she was wondering if she could get one for a gift for each my children.  She remembered that I didn't really want them for my kids, hence the calling, but since she couldn't get a hold of me, she made an executive decision and bought them anyway.  I'm not gonna lie, this announcement made my blood boil a little bit.  I suppose I could've told her she needed to take them back to the store, but that's not my style.  It's a gift, after all, and she loves them but doesn't understand why I don't want them in my life.  So, I conceded.  The gifts were given this last weekend. 

My children flipped out.  They were so excited.  I was not.

Their cousins helped them log on and set up their world.  They played on it some while they were at my mom's house over the weekend.  Whatever. 

This year I have suffered a severe post-Christmas crash.  I pushed myself beyond my limits for several weeks, trying to do too much and not getting enough sleep in the process, not to mention the fact that I'm growing another human being in my body, which tends to sap energy.  I have felt groggy every morning (including Christmas morning) and felt as though I could sleep until noon each day.  (I haven't, but waking daily has been a serious challenge) 

With that preface: Ella, upon waking this morning, came and climbed in my bed.  This is normally a sweet thing.  I love to converse with her in the mornings.  But I was downright grumpy today as she tried to talk to me.  And one of the first thing out of her mouth was something about how she needed to get online and feed "Marci" (her Webkinz) or Marci would die.  Seriously?  Your stuffed animal's electronic persona will die?  I had no tolerance for it.  I told her she better wait until I was a little more awake (like in a non-horizontal position) to talk to me about that. 


Grrrr....

I guess this is where I get to assert my position as "Mother" and just tell them too bad.  Your little pet will have to live on whatever they get with a "once every couple weeks" visit online. 

And, just for the record, I'm not mad at my sister.  She made her choice to give them to my kids and I made my choice to NOT tell her to take them back.  I now get to choose to be a "mean mom" who let's virtual pets go skeletal with malnutrition and neglect. 

I just feel better for the telling of the story, so thanks for listening, Blog. 

And One More Time

Mormonwoman.org has been kind enough to publish this post that I did last year about my church Christmas program. 

Rereading that post makes my eyes smart with tears with the remembrance of that overwhelming day.  I am grateful for my calling in my church as choir director.  I've been known to whine a bit because I've been doing the same thing for close to five years, but I really love it.  I should just keep my mouth shut about it because it fulfills me in ways I forget to remember until I'm actually doing the job of leading those willing and stalwart members of the choir. 

We had our Christmas program just two days ago and, while it was not as thought-out as last year's program, I was very pleased with the way it turned out.  Last year I arranged to have choir pieces, a vocal soloist with a violin, an INCREDIBLE piano solo, organ/piano duets with choir and congregation singing, a vocal trio and some children singing.  It was quite the array and quite the program.  This year I have just been too busy with homeschooling, pretzel-dipping, pregnancy-exhaustion and general Christmas mania and I didn't get the chance to find performers for some of the music that I wanted performed in smaller groups or solos.  Nonetheless, the songs that were performed were BEAUTIFUL and my stress level was much lower this year, an element for which I am grateful.  That may have something to do with the fact that I did last year's program as well as our Stake Fine Arts Night in May... I'm getting some experience under my belt, which allows for lower stress during such an event.

To any who participated in the program who might be reading this, THANK YOU!  Emily, thank you for augmenting Away in a Manger with your violin and thank your husband for playing the piano.  Diane... I don't think you read this blog, but I'll say it on here anyway... my gratitude for you knows no bounds.  You did the very most in the whole program, as you played in every song and with nary a word of complaint!  I realized the other day, that you've been playing for the choir far longer than I've been choir director!  I have no room for complaint!  THANK YOU!!!

The end. 

Where Did We Go Wrong?

Dear Peanut Butter-

It's not you, it's me.

I'm not sure what happened to us.  We used to enjoy eachother's company.  I've never been a "I can't get enough peanut butter" kind of person, but we've always gotten along just fine. 

Something happened.  Over the years, you've just lost something.  Slowly, you and I have just drifted apart.  Remember when I used to put a normal amount of you on my PBJ's?  And then that amount got thinner and thinner as the years passed, when finally the bread would just show right through you as I spread you on with my favorite freezer jam.  I would almost gag if I watched my husband make a PBJ.  He lays you on so thick, I'm amazed he coul speak the rest of the day after he ate those sandwiches.  

At first it was just the thinning of the "PB" in my PBJ.  Next was the Reese's Peanut Butter cups.  And somewhere between the Reese's and last night's Peanut Butter Bar order that I had to fill, we've become nothing short of enemies.  You assault all my senses... smell, sight, taste... even touch.  So far, you've stayed away from hearing, but I know you'll find a way to ruin that too. 

I want to be friends with you!  Can't we still be friends?  It would be so much easier to be around you! 

Can't you just make yourself smell good to me again?  Or, make it so that when I find little remnants of you in the jelly or the butter (because my kids don't understand the strength of my aversion toward you!) I don't go ballistic? 


I'm so sorry that it's come to this.  Perhaps, when my hormones level off in a few months, we can find some sort of happy medium.  Perhaps. 

No longer yours,
Clancy

Check It Out

I got published again!  Some of you have already read this, but check it out if you wish... it was supposed to have a blurb about the poem that went something like this:


There are times in life where I've felt like I'm floundering... bobbing along with no direction and accomplishing very little. It was during one of those times, a January in my life, that I realized, as I walked past my flower garden wherein lay the frozen roots of perennial flowers and shrubs, that something happens to those roots in those cold, dark times that cycle through every year. I don't understand the physics or biological processes that occur, but the results, when the weather warms, is the beautiful conclusion of that process that I don't fully understand. From that life-metaphor came this poem which helped me have the faith to get through my own dark, cold cycle in life.

Somehow that got left out, but that's ok... you get the idea, I think, through the poem.

Listy List

Do you ever just have a need to make a list?  Today's the day for me!

1- I'm so grateful for cars and how they, once warmed up, can be a little bubble of warmth against the bitter Idaho weather. (or your state of residence... but only if it's a cold state.  I don't want to hear about anything above 32 degrees.  This morning, where I live it was -12 degrees.  That sucks.) 

2- I'm so grateful that my husband goes out and starts my car every morning as he's leaving for work. 

3- I love the hood of my coat.  It's so lovely and snuggly.  A coat without a hood is not a coat worth having.  That's simply my opinion and if you have a coat with no hood, no disrespect is intended.  But you really should think about getting a coat with a hood.  I'm just sayin'...

4- The "helm" where I sit and do all my computery things gives me a limited view of my driveway.  I can see part of my husband's beat up, old truck and a little bit of the nose of my van from my not-so-lofty perch.  The relevance of that random comment is this:  I was just sitting here thinking how interesting the human mind is.  The front bumper of my van is parked about 8 inches from the front bumper of Dustin's truck.  I don't really even remember parking my van after I dropped Ella off at school, but I, obviously... in my miraculous and amazing brain... calculated the distance from the nose of my van to Dustin's truck very well because I am close to it, but didn't hit it.  That got me thinking how a car can become almost an extension of our bodies.  We are mostly aware of them as we are aware of our own arm or foot and we do things while driving with an awareness of the limits of the car.  But this all happens without alot of concious thought on our part.  

I've had a similar train of thought about when I'm in a room and I need to turn off the light and then navigate in the dark.  If I take a quick scan of the room, I can turn off the light and negotiate the room blindly and yet fairly quickly with almost no mishaps because I've already "mapped out" in my mind, the distances my feet need to walk or where they need to skirt an obstacle.

Or, when I'm running, I look far ahead of where my feet are actually hitting the ground.  I know where my feet are going to land because I already mapped it out as I took in the terrain as a whole.  (I'm thinking, particularly, of trail-running which has many rocks, roots and various obstacles...)  It's simply amazing to me how our brain will just take care of these little details without a lot of conscious awareness on our analytical brain's part. 

We are some cool creatures, human beings!

5- I think something got stolen out of our garage.  This, alone, sucks alot.  But it extra-sucks because said item was not ours, but my dad's and Dustin had borrowed it.  Our lock on our garage is missing.  I don't know when, why or how that happened, but I went out there on Sunday night and the garage door was wide open (this is an old, detached garage with double swinging doors) and had been for who knows how long.  My dad is awesome though and was so understanding and nice about the whole thing.

6- Did you know Laundry has a butt?  I found that out yesterday when I kicked some Laundry-BUTT!!


7- I've been so busy this week... had so many little things to do.  I've actually been doing them, but I should probably make a list because I keep forgetting all the little things that need doing.  But, mostly I've remembered and I've gotten much accomplished.  Good feelings abound.


That feels better.  List made.

Nerd Alert

I've spent the last two hours of my evening studying HTML code.  I'm obsessed!  I can't tell you how insane I get looking at those codes and not knowing what they mean!!!  I'm taking an HTML "class" that I found on the internet.  I basically have to read through it and figure it out, and I love it.  

LOVE IT, I tell you.

I wish I could stay up all night and study.  But, understanding all those tags does take some brain power and my brain, apparently, shuts down at midnight because at 12:02 I realized I could no longer focus on what I was reading. :-(  

As my brother, Zandy, used to always say to me when we were young, "Nerds die twice."

I guess I'm gonna die twice then, because I am a nerd for sure.

New Life

This morning, as sleep was walking that precarious line of hanging on and sloughing off of my shrouded mind, I realized I had hands on my belly. I was laying on my back and must have been for some time because, as I was slowly waking up, I realized that my back was hurting me and I needed to move. I didn't want to though. While I was sleeping, my husband was laying there, hands on my tummy, feeling our baby move under my skin. I didn't want to disturb the moment.

Realizing after a few minutes that there seemed to be no movement in utero to disturb, I rolled onto my side. Dustin's hands remained on my belly waiting for more fetal acrobatics. I continued drifting in and out of sleep and, after an unknown quantity of time, Dustin got up to get ready for work. After he showered, he came back in our room and found me a little more coherent.

"I was playing with the baby while you were asleep," he informed me.

I responded, "I noticed your hands on my belly as I was waking up, but I didn't feel the baby moving at all. Was it actually moving?"

"Oh yeah! Totally!" he replied enthusiastically. "It would kick and I'd give a little push back. I'd feel a little limb and bounce it off my hand. It moved a lot and for a long time. The baby and I were having fun!"

Weird how I could be so asleep to not even notice any of that going on. But as I lay there thinking after he walked away, I was very grateful that I stayed asleep through it all. He got his own time "with the baby" as I was lost to the waking world.

A few minutes later, Ella walked in the room. She had a bad dream for the second morning in a row. Comforting words were said and she climbed in bed next to me filling Dustin's vacated spot. We lay there a few minutes and suddenly the baby got very tiny hiccups. I took Ella's hands and, placing them over the rhythmic hiccup-zone, told her of the baby's condition.

She got very excited as she felt the little repetitive jolts. "I can FEEL it, Mom!" she whispered enthusiastically. Suddenly, the baby decided it was awake and ready to roll around. The big sister thrilled at the various kicks and motions she felt. Swells of miniature body parts protruded and she informed me of every action. She laughed out loud several times. She asked what she was feeling... "Was that it's head? Is that it's leg? How does it make that bump stick out? What was that little bump?"

"I don't know Ella," I replied. "I wonder the same things all the time and I can never quite imagine the little person that can make all that movement simultaneously!"

As we lay there, I told her that her daddy was "playing" with the baby this morning while I was sleeping. She laughed. I suddenly realized that she, being my only daughter thus far, (March will tell if she is my only daughter ever) would one day, in all probability, get to experience this very thing, but from her own body, not just feeling it through her mother. I told her this, that one day she could feel this too but feel it all the time, every day as a new life develops into a whole, and very tiny human being.

I marveled, as I have time and time before, at the wonder of being a woman. This is a precious time, a wonderful gift that my body can give. I love feeling those jolts of a new life inside of me. Dustin can feel it from the outside as he lays there in dark, but OH!, the joy I experience with each little tap or roll from within! It is a wonder, a marvel and a miracle.

And with that thought, I say again... I love being a woman.

Let Your Fingers Do the Walking?

Not this time.


Just now Rohan came downstairs and asked in a very loud voice, "Mom, do you know Santa's phone number? Cuz I've been waiting a WEALLY LONG TIME!"

We only put our tree up last night.

It's going to be a long month for that four year-old boy....