I'm Giving Thanks

Here we are again at the beginning of November, eagerly anticipating the holidays and looking with not a small amount of horror at how quickly the past year has flown by. For the past few years I have participated in a challenge hosted by Leah at South Breeze Farm that has been such a reality check for me. The idea is to create a list in your sidebar, and each day add a new thing that you thankful for throughout the month of November.

It's amazing how easy it is to see your blessings when you take a minute to think about it. From the small to the large, everyone has something for which they can be thankful. I posted my lists here and here from previous years if you are interested, and I hope that you will go to Leah's blog, grab the button and jump in feet first with a thankful heart!

For all of you Facebookers, this works for you too. Just update your status each day with something for which you are thankful. God has blessed me so richly that my heart overflows with thanksgiving for who He is, and for what He has done for me!

They Make Me Laugh

We've spent this weekend just being together and relaxing at the house. We had my mom in town last weekend for a much needed visit, and the kids started back to school after the fall break so it's been nice taking it easy. I haven't seen my mom since June and I'm pretty sure that's the longest I've gone without seeing her since 1998 when we lived in Carlsbad, NM. It was fun going shopping and catching up with her.

She was here during fall break, so I took advantage of her being here and scheduled an appointment for Nathan to have a check up at the pediatrician for his ADHD, knowing that Mama would stay home with Grace. I took him Thursday and after the nurse weighed him and checked his height, he needed to go to the bathroom. I waited outside the door for him so I could show him to the correct exam room. As he opened the door, I realized that I had not heard either one of the following:

• a toilet flushing
  
• water running in the sink

I think my exact words were, "Seriously son? You didn't flush OR wash your hands?", but we'll just say for the sake of argument that I gently reminded him to return to the bathroom and finish up properly. He turned to me and said, "But the sign says not to." I followed him into the bathroom and he pointed to the sign and read, "Please do not flush tampons." I almost choked as I tried to hold in my laughter, because not only was the situation funny, but he mispronounced it as tam-puns. I just told him to go ahead and wash his hands and I would flush for him.

The very next day I brought Gracie in to the doctor because of a cough she had been fighting for a few weeks, and she had her chance to make me choke back my laughter. The nurse had finished taking her vitals and recording it all in the computer, and she was leaving the room to get the doctor. Gracie called out, "Excuse me. Could you please tell the doctor that I don't need any shots?" The nurse and I just looked at each other, our laughter threatening to burst out as she promised to tell the MD.

It turns out that she had a sinus infection that required an antibiotic, but no shots.

The laughs? They just keep on coming here at the crazy house.

We also went up to Skiatook Lake the Sunday before Mama left to see the changing leaves and to let the kids get in some tree climbing time. It was just beautiful and we had a great time walking around and enjoying the view. When I see such beauty in nature I can't help but see God in creation. How can anyone see the leaves change, the stillness of a lake or the grandeur of the mountains and not see God? The Bible says we can't.

The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they display knowledge.

There is no speech or language
where their voice is not heard.

Their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun,
which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.

It rises at one end of the heavens
and makes its circuit to the other;
nothing is hidden from its heat.
Psalm 19:1-6

The next time you see a sunset or a stunning vista, or just the simple beauty of rain falling on your yard, thank God for His providence and for showing His glory to us every day.

Life As We Know It

The shortcut icon on my homepage that leads to my blog has been glaring at me for days now. Click me! Click me! Be creative and witty! Record your life! Update your family and friends!

Hmmm.

I would briefly consider it and then click on the icon for Facebook and then forget all about the fact that actually have a blog and that I used to love visiting it every day. Then I would catch up there and click on over to check the news (Nobel Peace Prize??? Really?), then end up chasing links for an obscene length of time. (Google "where is Chuck Norris" and click "I'm feeling lucky"). All of this to say that a great deal has happened between now and the last time I posted, but I've basically wasted all my internet time doing other stuff.

Despite moments of homesickness, I am really beginning to feel like this is my real life. My job is going well, and I'm more at ease with the people there. I don't feel like an outsider looking in anymore, although I still miss my old friends at Northeast. We are involved in our church with Awanas, children's choir, adult choir and Sunday school. People are starting to look familiar and I can say hello to them by name instead of just vaguely waving at them and smiling. Facebook has actually helped with this since I am a tactile/visual learner and seeing their names next to a picture really helps me to remember them.

Trevor is very busy at work these days, and is increasingly more and more thankful for his short commute. He gets the kids off to school in the morning, and then is able to work until 5:30 and still be home before six. It really makes our days seem longer (in a good way), because we are not spending hours of it in our cars between work and home. I am here when the kids get home from school, and they have plenty of time to unwind, complete homework and play before it's time to start getting ready for bed.

Nathan is doing exceptionally well in third grade. He has straight As, and is making so many friends. He comes home from school each afternoon excited about his day, and eager to show me his work. His love of reading has really taken off in the last few months, and he is consuming books at an alarming rate. I need to make a trip to the bookstore and stock up for him so we won't run out. He has hundreds of books, but they are for the most part not chapter books, and that's what he wants to read. He's started reading the Harry Potter series, and blew through Charlie and the Chocolate Factory so I think it's time to expand our children's library!

Grace is having a harder time in school. This is the first time in her life that she is not surrounded by people that she knows, and it's clear from her behavior that she's uncomfortable. Her teacher reports that she doesn't seem to want to make friends, and that she pushes other children away. Her schoolwork is fine and she enjoys learning, but socially she is not behaving the way that she normally does. It's unusual, because Gracie is the one who normally jumps right in to whatever is going on and plays with whoever happens to be there. She has become prone to cry when things don't go her way, and she is much more sensitive to perceived offenses. We do see improvement at church, and are thankful for her teachers who continue to show her love when she is sometimes a little bit unlovable. We know that this will pass as she becomes more comfortable in her new environment.

I am over the top excited because Mama is coming to visit this Wednesday. The kids are on fall break next Thursday through Monday, and she decided to come up and see us while we had some time off. I can't remember the last time I went this long without seeing her, and I really miss her. We talk on the phone and occasionally Skype, but it's not the same as having her here. We plan to go home for Christmas, but I am glad for this interim visit. We don't really have any plans, but I'm sure it will involve doing something fun with the kids.

Amber had her 20 week ultrasound this past Monday and received the news that she and David are having a boy! His name is Travis Cole, and he is due on February 18. I am so excited to have a new nephew and although I did wish that Gracie would have a girl cousin, I am really happy for them. My hope is that we can spend all of spring break in Louisiana so I can spend some time with all of them!

So here we are on Saturday morning, enjoying the cool temperatures (it's 37--whoo hoo!), and looking forward to a weekend of rest and relaxation. I was home sick from work week before last with a killer sinus infection, and am exhausted from this past week back at work. The idea of doing nothing this weekend sounds just right to me!

Every Little Bit Counts!

From the time that I was a little girl, I was taught about missions. I went to Mission Friends in preschool and Kindergarten, and then to GA's (Girls in Action) when I entered grade school. When I finally made it to Junior High, I was promoted to Acteens. I can't remember a time when I wasn't aware of foreign missions through the Southern Baptist Convention. The Lottie Moon Christmas offering was just part of going to my church.

But even with all of the teaching, activities and participating in mission projects as a child and young adult, I still feel like my money doesn't really make a difference. Over the years I stopped giving to missions, partially because I wasn't really plugged in to a church and partially because of the mistaken belief that the little bit I could give wouldn't make a difference. I mean, seriously. How much difference would my $20, $50 even $100 make in the grand scheme of things?

If I am completely honest with myself, I was selfish with my money. I could have afforded to give much more if had I planned ahead and sacrificed just a few of my superfluous weekly purchases. I could have done more. I can do more.

Because of people like me, the International Mission Board has a deficit of $32 million this year, and as a result are unable to send willing people into the mission field. There is a movement that is being started to take a collective offering on November 22 at local churches to overcome this deficit. If each member gives only four dollars, the IMB could continue it's work of spreading the gospel to the ends of the earth.

I am ashamed of my non-participation in the past. The church that we currently attend is very missions minded, and during our short time here I have been convicted of my responsibility to support mission work, foreign and domestic. It may not be in the cards for me to move my family to Indonesia or Kenya, but I can be a part of supporting those who are called to go.

Most importantly, every single dollar counts. Was the deficit caused because others like me felt like their small amount wouldn't matter anyway? If so, we can fix this problem! Get the word out to your local body of believers. If you would like more information, click here. Post this video and link on your blog, Facebook wall and web page. Join with me in giving $4 on November 22 and get the IMB back where they should be.

Let Them Be Little

Today is the first Sunday after Labor Day. If you are a woman (or well-bred man for that matter) from the South, you know what this means. The white shoes have been polished, winterized and put away until Easter and the dark shoes come out of the closet for a season. No matter that it is still 90 degrees outside and you are still wearing summer dresses. No matter that the current fashion mavens say it's okay to wear white after Labor Day. We know better.

So, in the time honored tradition of my southern belle fore bearers, I went in search of black patent dress shoes for Grace yesterday. And I searched. And searched. And searched some more. I hit the usual places...Target, Walmart, Kohl's and Belks. I went to Shoe Carnival, Famous Footwear and Rack Room Shoes. I found a pair of ballet style shoes at Payless, but they weren't the dressy shoes I was looking for.

I think what disturbed me the most was the type of shoe that I was finding on the shelves for little girls. Now don't forget that Gracie is five years old. The shoes I was finding in her size were covered in sequins, sporting cheap flowers and/or being supported by a heel tall enough to make me uncomfortable. Then there were the strappy heels for preschoolers that were a pedophile's dream come true. I seem to have this problem every time I search for dress shoes.

I don't want my little girl to look like she's wearing footwear more suitable for a teenager or adult woman. I want her to look like she is five years old, because she is. I realize that I am not exactly the most fashion conscious person, and I'm okay with that. I don't usually like the new styles that come out for women. I'm more of a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, with the occasional pair of dress Capri's and nice blouse thrown in for good measure. I typically wear dresses on Sunday morning to church, and never wear white after Labor Day or before Easter.


I'm a little old fashioned, but I think that is a good thing when it comes to children's clothing. When I finally found a pair of shoes at Dillard's, I was talking to the salesperson about my difficulty finding shoes. Our conversation turned to the types of dresses and clothing available for little girls these days, and we were in agreement that much of what is out there is entirely inappropriate for them. The skirts are too short and the shirts are too tight. As a matter of fact, I usually have to buy Gracie's t-shirts a size too big because they are intended to be skin tight.

Who wants to see a five year old child's body in skin tight clothes? For that matter, who wants to see a little girl in hoochie mama wedge flip flops (on which she is precariously balancing, trying not to break an ankle), short shorts and a halter top? Children are not little adults. They are children and we are taking away a bit of their childhood by dressing them that way.

So as I made my way home with my black patent leather shoes, I looked forward to seeing Gracie in her new shoes and sweet (age appropriate) linen dress. She's already growing up too fast...I'm not going to speed her along!

A Humorous Alternative

We were sitting in church this morning, waiting for the service to start. Gracie was thumbing through her Bible, looking at the pictures and asking questions. She came across a picture of Adam and Eve being banished from the garden, with the angels and their burning swords barring re-entrance.

She asked me to read the story to her, and when I was finished we asked her why Adam and Eve had been banished. She said it was because they disobeyed God. Then, in true Grace fashion (and I'm sure based on her own experience with discipline associated with disobedience), she said,

"God could have just spanked them or something."

Hmmm. I wonder how that would have felt?

Morning Routine Interrupted

When I woke up this morning, I was so glad that it was the end of the work week. Although I work an abbreviated schedule to be able to get home for the kids in the afternoon, my job is essentially unchanged. I look forward to Friday just like the next person. As I showered, I thought about the end of the day, and what we might do with the kids in the evening.

I got dressed and made it to the kitchen to begin making an egg sandwich and a fresh cup of coffee to go. Nathan was already at the table eating his cereal, and Trevor was shouting down the hall for Gracie to GET UP RIGHT NOW THIS IS THE THIRD TIME I'VE CALLED YOU WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG?? This is pretty much our standard morning procedure around here. Nathan hops out of bed (actually he's often awake and playing in his room by the time I fall out of bed after the 8th snooze) and is ready to take on the world.

Grace? Well, she takes after her mother (and her grandfather, aunt and uncle) in that she needs to be awakened gently. Soft words and strokes on her back to bridge the gap between sleep and wakefulness. Low murmurs in her ear about getting up and reminders of what the day holds for her. If protocol is not strictly followed, we will have a cranky bear child roaming the halls unable to find her clothes or eat breakfast without spilling something.

That sort of procedure works great on the weekends when we have endless amounts of time to waste spend, but not so much during the week when everyone is trying to get out of the house on time. We do a sort of abbreviated version of the wake-up program, but the results are often less than satisfactory. For instance, she's not really cranky with the abbreviated version, but she is as slow as molasses in January. It requires a minimum of three reminders for every task set before her. Getting dressed. Brushing her teeth. Putting on her shoes. Eating her breakfast. Making her bed. It's painful really.

Anyway, it was no surprise that Gracie was not at the breakfast table with her brother, so I continued to cook my egg with one eye on the clock to be sure I wouldn't be late. Gracie finally came stumbling into the kitchen with Medusa hair and a sweet sleepy look on her face, and sat down at the table. I went back to her bedroom to lay out her clothes (Trevor lives in mortal fear of putting outfits together for her), and to retrieve her hairbrush and bow.

As I came into the kitchen, Trevor was leaning over her with the thermometer. She had a low-grade fever and said that her throat was burning. When Gracie complains of anything, I usually take it pretty seriously. This is the same child who had strep throat and a) never complained of any pain, and b) ate crackers in the doctors office as they told me that the strep had caused scarlet fever. She has a very high pain tolerance, so any time she admits to pain I listen.

So now I have the day off so I can take her to the doctor before the weekend gets started in case she needs a prescription for an antibiotic. Not an altogether unpleasant thought because I always enjoy time alone with Grace. As an added bonus, there is no vomiting involved with this illness so we'll get to spend the day watching girly princess movies and slurping down Popsicles.

Good times.

First Day of School

Here we are. The first day of school in a new town. This is a new experience for me because up to this point, Nathan has attended school in my hometown. Did I mention it was a small town? So no matter who his teacher was, I knew them either directly or in a roundabout way. My mom taught school in the district for almost 30 years, so she knew many of the teachers and my mother in law works for the district as well, so there were never any surprises.


It was comfortable. It was well within my comfort zone. It was as natural as breathing to send him to the school where I once played on the monkey bars and chased friends under the trees. The classrooms still smelled exactly the same and the halls were like old friends welcoming me back. (Except that I felt like Andre the giant...were the desks really that small?)



Moving to Tulsa and anticipating a new school that was a total unknown was scary for me. I knew that Nathan would be missing his old friends, and that Gracie would be surrounded by strangers. I was afraid that they would not want to go into their classrooms and had visions of bullies picking on them and making them miserable.

The first inkling I had that everything was going to be all right was when Nathan's friend Savannah from next door came over to walk the kids down to the bus stop. She didn't have to do that. She could have just walked down alone, but she took the time to include Nathan and Grace. We thanked her for coming over, but told her that we were driving the kids to school today.

When we made it to school and down to Gracie's Kindergarten class, I barely had a chance to snap a picture of her with the teacher before she ran in the room without a second glance in our direction. She was completely at ease and ready to start her day. It was bittersweet because for a fleeting moment I wished for a tear or at least a clinging hug, but then I came to my senses and was ecstatic that she was so well-adjusted.



It was time to walk with Nathan to his third grade class and strangely enough, that's when I got a little teary. He walked well ahead of us with a purpose. He knew where his classroom was, and he was excited to get there. He didn't need (or want) to hold a hand, and he looked so big. The lump in my throat went away when I snapped a picture of him with his teacher and he waved goodbye.


As Trevor and I walked out of the building together, I realized that we had just begun another season in our lives. Both children are in school now, and they are growing up more quickly that I like to think about. Time marches on and there is nothing we can do to stop it, so it's better to just embrace the moments as they come and thank God for the blessings that we have been given.

Conversations From the Backseat

I was driving home with the kids the other day, and we passed a large truck with animals in the back. The following conversation ensued:

Nathan: Hey! That truck had animals in the back! (Brief pause) I wonder where they're going? (Another pause) I'll bet they're going to the pound.

Grace: What's the pound?

Nathan: It's where if people don't want to buy the animals they kill them.

Xandra: (Stifling laughter and trying not to interrupt)

Grace: That's not very nice.

Nathan: (Earnestly) It's okay. It doesn't hurt them. They just give them a shot and then they fall asleep forever.

Xandra: (Still trying not the interrupt but just about to have an aneurysm from holding in the laughter)

Grace: (After a loonngggg pause and then quite sadly) I didn't know they did that to dogs and cats.

It was all I could do at that point to stay in my lane. It's probably not as funny reading it, but it was hilarious listening to their little private conversation. (Disclaimer: I did have a conversation at a later time about what happens at the pound and why.)

Home

We've been in Oklahoma for 5 weeks now, and I still have the vague feeling that we're just visiting. It's our stuff in the new house, it's my face on my employee ID badge, and it's my car in the garage but it all feels out of place. It's like a incredibly bizarre vacation where we moved all of our stuff with us, but will be going home soon.

In spite of this feeling, we really are settling in pretty well. We joined the church we were visiting Sunday before last, and we've had some new friends over for dinner. My job is going well, and I am slowly but surely making friends with the people here. I'm excited about the fall because I will be cutting back on my hours a bit in order to be home with the kids after school. I'm also excited about the fall because it will actually BE fall with cooler temperatures and turning leaves. Southeast Texas has two seasons: hot and hotter. Okay, to be fair the winters are very comfortable but it's the getting to the comfortable weather that will kill you!

Our main concern right now is the sale of our house in Texas. It's still sitting there just waiting for the right family to purchase it, and we would like to find that family sooner rather than later. It's that last loose end that we haven't quite tied up yet and are looking forward to the revenue and sense of finality that will come with it. Maybe when we sell I'll stop thinking of it as home and look around me instead.

A New Beginning

In recent months, I have been quite sporadic about writing posts for my blog. Partly because my life has been crazy with the move and a new job, but mostly because I've reached a fork in the road with my blogging. When I first began, I wrote for myself and for my children. It was an outlet for my creative side, a place to vent and a place to record the everyday happenings in my life.

Over time I began to make friends through my blog. Friends who encouraged me, friends who made me laugh and friends who sometimes admonished me in Christ through a more private venue such as email when I needed it. I loved reading their blogs, and began to look forward to my daily reading.

But something else happened along the way. I started writing for my friends instead of for myself. I would begin each post with the expectation that others would read it and I hid my true feelings about things as to not offend, and began to be overly critical of my writing. Sitting down to blog became a chore instead of a pleasure. What should I write about? Will they think I'm boring? Is this post too long? Should I add pictures to break it up visually?

I also stopped writing so much about the every day details of my life, because let's be honest. I care about how many times Gracie wakes up with a dry Pull-up (and probably my mom and a handful of other relatives), but who else in the blogosphere really cares about that stuff? Part of what I enjoyed about my earlier writing was the fact that I was recording in great detail the events of my children's lives. not just the big milestones, but the crazy quotes, quirky little habits and day to day happenings. I love going back and reading about all that stuff that only a mother could genuinely care about.

I read a post this morning that was written by my friend Maff at Girl with a 'Fro, and it really got me thinking about my blogging and why I am doing it. I don't think I'm ready to disable comments yet, but I do think that I am going to start writing for myself again. I love your comments and subsequent emails and chit chat, but it's okay if you don't feel like commenting on a post about the number of friends Nathan has made in the neighborhood, my insomnia or the obvious flaws in our highway patrol system.

Please feel free to come here and read (or see the topic and decide you're not interested), and leave a comment (or not). Whatever you decide, I'm going to keep on writing about stuff that I care about. I will be really pleased to see the familiar names on my comments list, but will not be offended if there are none. Of course, I've never been one to care about the number of comments per post (although I know many who do), so don't feel like you are going to be hurting my feelings if you don't leave your mark every time.

As for me, expect to see a drop in the number of comments I leave for you. Some of my friends write in volume, and I have a hard time keeping up with the commenting. I always read each post, but then feel guilty if I don't leave some sort of comment like "Great post!" or "Good point!". But really, other than affirming that I agree with what was said, did I really say anything of value? Nope. I have made this vow before that I would stop commenting unless I really had something to say, but very quickly broke it because I tend to be a people pleaser.

However, this time I plan to stick to my guns. I may roll on the floor laughing at the antics of your children, or at your adventures the last time you visited Walmart, but I probably won't comment on it. For all of my friends (and you know who you are), I will still be reading every single word you write, I just may not be commenting on it.

So in conclusion:

1. I still love all my bloggy friends.
2. I will still be reading all that you write.
3. I will still be blogging, but it will be for me.
4. I do not expect comments every time I post.
5. I still love all my bloggy friends.

The Briar Patch

The first week that Trevor and I were here without the kids, I stumbled across a Christmas tree farm that also had 5 acres of blackberries in the summer. Blackberries are actually not one of my favorite berries, but there is a completely nostalgic value to them that I can't quite escape.


When I was a girl, Gramps had a long row of blackberries that he grew. They climbed the rudimentary trellis as they matured, and in the summer we would all pick berries until our hands and arms were scratched and bleeding from the briars. They were huge berries, not like the ones we would find wild in the woods around their house. They were good right off the vine, and they stained our fingers purple as we picked and devoured them, enjoying the juicy sweet but tart flavor until we were full.



When our buckets were full, we would bring them in to Granny and she would work her special magic in the kitchen, making blackberry dumplings, cobblers and jelly. The dumplings were my favorite, and the very thought of them takes me back to 1982 when I was 10 and the summer stretched endlessly in front of me.


All of this flashed through my mind when I saw that farm, and I decided that I would take the kids blackberry picking when they got here. Today was the first day that we've been able to get out there, so Gracie and I got up at seven and drove over. Nathan wasn't interested in going, so the girls had some special time together.


As we walked up and down the rows picking berries and chatting with other pickers, I felt like a child again. Gracie caught on quickly, and was proud of her progress as she made her way down the row, occasionally calling out and letting me know when she found a particularly big one. It's only rained once for about 5 minutes the entire 3 weeks that we've been here, but this morning the clouds were looming on the horizon. We finished up and went to the shed to have the berries packaged and weighed. All in all we picked about 3 quarts, which was more than enough for our little family.

Not long after we got home, the sky opened up and the rain came down in heavy sheets. We had timed our trip just perfectly, and set to work washing and picking over the berries.


Gracie ate one after they were washed, and announced that she didn't really like blackberries. That's okay...she'll always have the memory of picking blackberries in the summer with me and she'll eat them for that reason alone.

She-Who-Runs-With-a-Stick

Sunday evening, the daylight was fading and the kids were begging for just a few more minutes outside. They knew that Monday would be my first day at work, and their first day at daycare so they were trying to squeeze every last moment from the day. I gave them a few more minutes, and watched from the window as Gracie walked across the lawn with her "hiking stick", which she found in the field next to our house approximately 46 seconds after she arrived in Oklahoma.

It was an old, weathered bamboo stick with rough jagged ends and about a foot taller than Grace. As I watched her, I turned to Trevor and said something offhand, like "She's going to poke her eye out with that stick." Less than a minute later, Gracie came stumbling up the driveway with the stick in one hand, holding her eye with the other and screaming bloody murder. Gracie is my child that falls down and gets right back up running, so when she screams like that I know something is very wrong.

Nathan was frantically trying to tell me what happened as I grabbed Gracie and carried her into the house. Her eye was bleeding, she had blood all over her hands and I couldn't tell if it was coming just from her eye or from somewhere else as well. I got her on the kitchen counter and forced her hand away from the eye. At first glance I couldn't tell if she had damaged the eyeball, or if it was just superficial puncture wounds and small cuts to the skin. I quickly realized that all the blood was from her eye, and that she had not impaled herself on the stick.

As Trevor and I examined her, Nathan told us that Gracie was running with the stick and it got caught on the pavement. The stick stopped cold, but she kept going and jammed her eye on the end of it. I tried to calm her down as I cleaned the eye and put ice packs on it. I was convinced that we needed to go to the ER immediately, but Trevor was not so sure. He felt that the damage was purely superficial and that it would be a waste of time (not to mention money), and that she would be fine.

I went along with the plan after ascertaining that she could see out of the eye and move it around without any difficulty. She climbed into my lap and I held her for a long time with the ice pack held firmly in place. We called Mama on Skype and did a video call so that she could see Gracie's eye. She read Gracie a few books, and it really cheered her up. By the end of the books, she was feeling much better and I was glad that Mama had been able to take her mind off the injury.

When it was time for bed, I let Nathan and Grace sleep together so that Nathan could come get us if Gracie needed anything in the night. I went to bed, but couldn't sleep for worrying that I should have taken her to the ER. I had visions of her waking up blind in that eye, or of having some sort of swelling behind the eye that affected her brain function. I finally gave up and went into the living room to watch TV. I must have checked on her at least 8 times that night, and didn't get to sleep until about 2am.

Monday morning was my first day of work, and I was willing to go in late or call in so I could take her to the pediatrician, but Trevor volunteered. The doctor concurred with Trevor that all of the wounds were superficial and that there was no lasting damage. All Gracie could talk about that day was how she learned her lesson about running with sticks. Another quarter or half of an inch lower and she could have been permanently blinded or worse. If this kind of close call doesn't convince you that we are surrounded by angels, I don't know what does. Here are a few pictures of She-Who-Runs-With-A-Stick:

The night of the accident

The next morning

Monday evening

Settling In

Nathan and Grace arrived in Oklahoma last Saturday afternoon, so they've been "home" for a week now. Mama and Granny drove them up from Louisiana and then stayed for several days to visit and to see our new home.

We all went to church on Sunday morning, and Nathan finally met the son of friends we made when we were here in May. His name is Ben, and they were in the same Sunday school class. Gracie went to her own class, and when I picked her up the teacher smiled and said, "She would have done so much better if she wasn't so shy!" Apparently Grace led the class in several songs and jumped right in with the lesson.

We went out for lunch at a local Mexican restaurant for Father's Day, and then relaxed the rest of the day. Monday morning Trevor went to work, and the rest of us took the kids to Kansas to see the site of the cabin that Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote about in the book "Little House on the Prairie". We all enjoyed the trip and Mama got the rest of the pictures and information that she needed for the talk she is giving on Little House in Europe this summer.

We found an incredible park as we were driving home, and took the kids there to play Monday night. They loved it, and I think it's going to be a favorite place to spend time.

Mama and Granny left Tuesday morning, and the kids and I went to the Tulsa Zoo. It was ridiculously hot (the temperatures have been as high as 107), so we only stayed a few hours but Nathan and Grace had a great time. We rode the train and the merry-go-round, and the kids rode a camel. After growing up with the Houston Zoo, this one was much smaller with fewer exhibits, but it was still very nice with the added benefit of being only 10 minutes from our house.


My new friend Tracy called that afternoon to see if we wanted to go swimming, so we spent a few hours cooling off in the pool. Nathan and Grace played with their new friends Ben and Lily and had a great time.


Wednesday I took them to the new pediatrician for well child visits (yay, no shots!) and then to enroll them in school. It's hard to believe that Gracie is going to be in Kindergarten and Nathan in 3rd grade. We spend the rest of the day running errands and trying to stay cool.


Thursday I took them to the on site daycare at my new job to take a tour and to fill out the necessary paperwork. It is a beautiful facility and the kids will have the opportunity to swim and go on field trips this summer. After the tour, we went down to the Oklahoma Aquarium. Just like the zoo, it was much smaller than its Houston and New Orleans counterparts, but still very nice and more importantly, indoors. The heat is insane and we take any opportunity to stay inside!


Yesterday we mostly stayed at home and relaxed. The kids played the Wii and computer games while I did some organizing and final unpacking. This house has very little storage and no bookshelves which makes it difficult to find places for all our books. Most of them are still in boxes in our bedroom while we decided what kind of system we want to purchase to house them. Our old house had custom, built-in bookshelves that were completely filled and so it's going to be a challenge to find a home for all our books.




All in all we are settling in very well. I am quickly learning my way around the area and Nathan and Grace are already meeting new friends at church and in the neighborhood. Although I would prefer to stay home with the kids full time, I'm still excited about starting my new job Monday. The house is feeling more and more like home every day, and we are already getting involved with our Sunday school class. We have a fellowship tonight, and already have plans for the 4th of July weekend.

God has provided a comfortable home, good jobs and friendly people to welcome us to the area. The transition from known to unknown has been surprisingly easy, and it's been abundantly clear that God has paved the way for us, and for that I am grateful.

I Am Loved

So they all went away from the little log house. The shutters were over the windows, so the little house could not see them go. It stayed there inside the log fence, behind the two big oak trees that in the summertime had made green roofs for Mary and Laura to play under. And that was the last of the little house.

Laura Ingalls Wilder
Little House on the Prairie

This is one of my favorite lines from all of the Little House books, and it was exactly what I was feeling when we pulled out of the driveway to begin our trip to Oklahoma. It felt as though I was leaving a family member behind, and I could barely see to say goodbye through my tears.

As I did a final walk through of the house, taking pictures of the empty rooms and one more of the familiar fireplace I couldn't help but cry. Tears welled in my eyes as I recalled memories in each room, and said goodbye to each one. Trevor met me in the kitchen and held me as he prayed over me, and said a prayer of thankgiving for the many years we had been able to call it home. The house where Nathan started his first day of Kindergarten and where Gracie learned how to walk.

The tears continued to fall as we said goodbye to his family, but slowly they stopped the further we got down the road. As I drove, I began to look forward to getting to Tulsa and to getting the new house in order. I thought about my new job and all of the friends that we had already made, and I felt better. I thought about all the people who care about me and who have been faithful to offer prayers on my behalf over the last several months, and I felt even better than before. I thought about how richly I have been blessed by God in so many ways that can never be named or put on a list.

I am loved.

My geographical location might change over the years, and I may have to say goodbye over and over again to those I love but one thing will never change: I am loved.

My cup runneth over.

We're Here

I'm at Trevor's office right now checking email and editing accounts online because our internet is not up and working yet at the house. It's been kind of nice not feeling like I constantly need to be checking stuff online, but at the same time I miss the convenience of having it readily available.

At any rate, we safely made it to Oklahoma on Sunday. The movers came Friday to pack the house, and then Saturday to load it on to the semi. We left about an hour after the truck did (that's a story for another time), and drove until we got just past Dallas. We stopped for the night and then finished the trip Sunday morning.

The movers came Monday morning and had the entire house unloaded by noon. We finally stopped them from unpacking boxes because we were out of room for storing everything, and piles of stuff were accumulating on the floors. We worked hard all day Monday and got a good bit done, and then I finished pretty much all of the rooms except for the master bedroom and both bathrooms. The challenge has been finding a place for everything, because we downsized a good bit and this house doesn't have nearly the storage that we had before.


I've been in Tulsa today doing drug testing and benefits orientation for my new job, so I decided to stop in and see Trevor for a few minutes on the way home. It's been kind of fun pretending that we are married without children, but we are really starting to miss Nathan and Grace. Mama has them in Louisiana with her and she will be driving them up to us on Saturday. Granny E is coming with them, and I am excited about showing them around our new town.

So, I need to finish up my interneting and get back to the house so I can finish up the rest of the the unpacking. As soon as we get the internet hooked up at the house, I'll be a little more regular with my posting. Until then, expect delays.

One More Day

The movers come to pack the house tomorrow. Tomorrow. Just to be clear, that's tomorrow. As in one more day in our home. One more day to walk slowly through the rooms and hear echos of laughter, tears, fighting, conversations and love. One more day to look out of my bedroom window into the back yard and see the rising sun send shafts of light through the leaves of the twin pecan trees. One more day to sit out on the deck with a beverage in one hand and the phone in the other as I chat with a loved one and swing.

One more day.

But I'm also one day closer to a new life with my husband and children. One more day until we have a brand new house in which to create memories of laughter, tears, fighting, conversations and love. One day closer to joining a new church and making new friends who will soon be old ones. One day closer to settling in the place that God has chosen for us.

One more day.

Tying Up the Loose Ends

This has been a week filled with farewells and final moments. We had Gracie's birthday party last Saturday, which allowed us to say goodbye to our friends. It's been a long time since we were all together...Kenneth and Kellye, Chris and Ali, Mike and Heather...with all of the kids running around under foot and having a great time. We enjoyed visiting with everyone and being able to open our home one last time before the move.


Then Friday my friends from work took me out after work for lunch and to hang out. We went to Chuy's (mmmmmm) around 1pm and didn't leave until almost five! They gave me an incredibly generous gift card that enabled me to purchase a Kindle 2 from Amazon. I can't wait to get it next week!!! It was so much fun to be with these women that I have come to love and respect. It's not often that we are given the opportunity to work with a group of people with whom we can also be friends. These women that work closely with every day...Mary Ann, Linda, Sam, Mary, Gayle, Janet and Chanda...make getting up in the morning worth it. I never dread going to work and I am constantly laughing and being encouraged while I am there.


These women have seen me through my pregnancy with Grace and her birth, the deaths of Gramps and Uncle Tellius, and all the ups and downs life has thrown at me in between. They have been faithful to tell me when to mind my own business, and when I have stuff stuck in my teeth after lunch. I count each one as my friend, and know that no matter how far away I may move that they will always be there for me. I've never been so sad to leave a job, knowing that I'll probably never be able to recreate that sort of perfect workplace chemistry in my lifetime. But it was good while it lasted, and I have the best memories of them to pull out from time to time and revisit when I am homesick.


Then Saturday we had 22 of Trevor's colleagues over for a party so he could say goodbye to them. It was sort of a joke because the name of the party was "Let's All Experience Trevor's Daily Commute". For those of you familiar with the Houston area, we live about 45 miles east of Houston, and Trevor works at the Beltway and 290.


Yeah.


If he were making that commute during rush hour (oh I laugh at the singular usage of that word), it would be about an hour and a half one way. As it is, he leaves the house each morning at 5:15 am to avoid all of that, and so that he can get off early enough to pick Gracie up from the church in the evening. So all of his friends made the journey and they were all appropriately appalled at how long it took.


We had a really good time playing games and eating. Three friends stayed until about 9:30 pm because we were out on the deck with a box of Trivial Pursuit cards just asking the questions. The entire thing went off without a hitch, and I was able to meet Trevor's boss from Russia, who did not speak a lick of English. Trevor taught the kids to say "hello" in Russian, and I think it pleased him that they tried.


So, today we dismantled the swing set. We knew that we couldn't take that massive thing with us to Oklahoma, and so we decided to give it to Will and Charly so that Nick and Alex could enjoy it. Once it was out of the yard there was just this big, empty space out there between the two pecan trees. The place where our kids spent hours swinging, climbing and imagining the day away was suddenly gone. I didn't think that it would bother me, but it did. Just like seeing our fireplace without it's mantle feels like a little death. (Amber took it home with her to Louisiana...Gramps made it when the fireplace was built, and she wanted to use it over her fireplace)


The last straw was when I ran out to the store for a few groceries later in the afternoon, and then dissolved into tears as I approached our driveway. I've known for a long time that we were leaving, but seeing the house sitting there expectantly waiting for me to come home was more than I could bear. I just sat in my car and cried for a few minutes. I've been pushing all of this down as I've made plans and kept moving forward, but now that planning is over and all that's left to do is say goodbye.

It's turning out to be harder than I thought.

Grace

As much as I try to stop time, it just keeps moving forward. Gracie turned five this past Monday, and as she blew out the candles and made her wish I couldn't help feeling a little sad. My tiny little baby is growing up and she will never stop. There are so many things that I find endearing about her personality, so I decided to compare her with the actual definitions for grace in the dictionary.

Grace

1. Seemingly effortless beauty or charm of movement, form, or proportion. Ummm....no. She's too much like her mother! We've never met a change in floor color that we couldn't trip over.
2. A characteristic or quality pleasing for its charm or refinement. Most definitely. She can charm the pants off of most anyone who meets her.
3. A sense of fitness or propriety. Again...nope. She runs around in her underwear for the most part, and doesn't care who sees her.
4. a. A disposition to be generous or helpful; goodwill. She wants nothing more than to help others. It's so sweet to see this part of her personality grow and flourish.
b. Mercy; clemency. We're still working on this one. Take away one of her lizards or dolls and her wrath will fall swiftly and terribly.
5. a. Divine love and protection bestowed freely on people.
b. The state of being protected or sanctified by the favor of God.
c. An excellence or power granted by God. I pray daily that she will be covered by His grace and come to know Him in a personal, saving way at an early age.
6. A short prayer of blessing or thanksgiving said before or after a meal. Her favorite one right now is: God our Father, once again thank you for our blessings. Amen (Did I mention that it is sung to the tune of "Are You Sleeping"?)
7. Grace used with His, Her, or Your as a title and form of address for a duke, duchess, or archbishop. Sometime I think that she thinks that she is royalty!

I love that little girl so much, and I am so proud of the person she is becoming as each year passes by. She makes me laugh (and sometimes cry), and I am so blessed to be her mother. Happy Birthday Grace!