If I'm going to blow away....

A friend sent me this email today. I have felt a lot like this, and I know some of my blogging friends have too, so I thought I would share....

I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in
whom I trust."(Psalm 91:2)

It was a windy day in the Midwest. My children
and I were out on a day of errands. Most of the day had been spent in the
protection of buildings built close together. But, our last stop put us at a
store that was all by itself at the edge of town. As I parked the van, the
wind made it sway slowly from side to side. On the count of three, we put our
heads down and barged into the outdoors. Once outside, my daughter ignored my
outstretched hand and, instead, wrapped both her arms around the top of my
leg. "If I'm going to blow away," she said, shouting above the wind, "I
want to blow away with you!" The wind was more than she could withstand. It
had knocked her down twice that day already. She had resigned herself to the
fact that the wind may, indeed, totally sweep her off her feet at some
point. I hobbled all of us into the store. Once inside, I squatted to her
level. "Did you really think that the wind would blow you away?" I asked as I
tried to untangle her long, blonde hair for the 1,000 time that day. "Yes,
Mommy," she said bluntly. "But if you came with me, I wouldn't care." What
she did not know was that I was feeling as if life was about to blow me away.
The pressures and stresses were like the wind outside – turning what should have
been a sunny, wonderful day into a climate in which I could barely stand. For
months, I had felt like at any minute, I may be knocked down by the sheer force
of it. When she wrapped her arms around me with complete faith in my
ability to get us through the wind, she reminded me that I, too, had someone to
cling to in times like these. Most of all, she reminded me of the child-like
faith with which I can hold on.

Prayer From a Mother's Heart
Dear God, help my child to cling to you in times of joy and in times of trouble
throughout her life.

Looking in the window of life

I took a friend of mine to the OB yesterday to have a sonogram. She is on strict bedrest and I offered to drive her. Of course I wanted to help a friend, but some of it was pure selfishness.
Here's why.

I LOVE sonograms. Not just my own, any sonogram. Peering into the amazing human body (ok, especially my own) and watching a life grow week by week is about the most fascinating thing I have witnessed in my life.

Some of you may or may not know that I had weekly sonograms and NSTs with both of my girls from about 22 weeks. With Sunshine it was gestational diabetes, with Tinkerbel it was oligohydramnios (low fluid). Every week I laid there and watched in amazement as their features became more human-like and they would move: yawn, suck their thumb, hiccup, etc. It was like time stopped for 15 minutes. I never got tired of it.

I loved it so much that towards the end of my last pregnancy I decided I would like to be a sonogram tech when I grow up. It seems to be my calling. I feel a deep desire to learn the art.

And so I begged my friend DM to let me go and be a bystander. Nothing had changed. It still moved me when we saw the first glimpse. She looked at the placenta first. I must add that I have seen so many sonograms in the last two years, I can pretty much tell what structure is being measured. She checked presentation and found out the baby had moved from a breach to a vertex position.(YAY! She gets to try a regular delivery). We saw the face so clearly it was like we were looking at the real thing. His arm was resting on the forehead, completely oblivious to our intrusion and the fact that he will be rudely pushed into joining us in this bright cold world next Wednesday.

I find it fascinating, amazing, beautiful and I hope I can start my career sooner rather than later. Going yesterday made me even more excited. Now if I can just find a rich 2nd cousin to fund my certificate

Ugh

Tomorrow is the kick-off to the spring soccer season. I am dreading it more than usual this time. I have no patience for: the "my SUV is bigger than yours" attitude as they swipe in front of your precious-cargo-carrying vehicle just in time to nick your parking space. The ladies who wear full make-up for an 8AM game. The dads who yell at their kids like they just bobbled the snap in a playoff game. The constant chasing of Sunshine who desperately wants to be on the field with her brother. Providing healthy snacks while trying to be the coolest mom on the team at the request of above mentioned son. My ex-husband refusing to comb son's hair for yet another picture. Having to be in the same place at the same time with said ex....and having to make small talk...with a forced smile. Having to be out of bed before 9 on a Saturday. Smelling like dirty kids for the rest of the day. I could go on....but I won't. You get the picture.

I will say that I do get immense joy in knowing that 2 times a week my son is outside in fresh air and exercising, which is more than double what he gets in our "no child gets left behind, instead they get diabetes" public school system.

Here's your sign...

My son (darling 8 year old that he is), the 3rd dirtiest person I have ever had the pleasure of living with, walks in after school today and says...

"Mom, this kitchen is disgusting. Look at all stuff on the floor! It is so gross that I couldn't eat my breakfast this morning down here".

Wow. If the kids are noticing, it must be bad. Yuck!

Lent schment

So...

After 2 weeks....how am I doing?

I've been to 1 of 2 Lent Sunday mornings at church....not bad.
I went to the first Lenten Monday Night Lives and my children were absolutely evil...so I decided to not to go back. (not really my fault I guess)

I went from Ash Wednesday until this past Friday without sweets. YAY me!
On Friday night I started the cramping and the mood swings that signaled the start to the 3rd post-baby cycle. Then...it started. I was achy, whiney, and miserable. I cried to the Duke that I jut needed chocolate and everything would be ok. Apparently I was not so pleasant because he responded that God would probably be less mad at me if I had a piece of chocolate than if I beat my entire family.
So, I had a piece of chocolate. One piece, and it was enough. I was cheerful, yet still whiney and stayed in bed with a heating pad all night.
I have eaten some chocolate everyday since. Almost like I can't make it through a period without it. Is it a miracle drug? What is it with chocolate? Why doe it call to us in times of stress?
I think the cycle is about over, and I am officially back on the Lent wagon.

Let's see how it goes from here.