At the risk of coming off terribly hormonal, let me lay it all out on the line for you…

Top 5 questions I have answered at least a hundred times and will repeatedly bang my head against the wall if I hear them once more:


1.  You know, they’ve figured out what causes this, right?  

Why no, I hadn’t heard that.  Please, explain it to me and while you’re at it can you show me an awkward video designed for prepubescent fourth graders?

2.  Do you need anything?  

Well, I am having a baby.  I need diapers.  And wipes.  And ointment.  And sleep.  Among other things. 

3.  When are you having your tubes tied?  

I may answer this question after you share with me your next intimately personal medical detail.  I might even send flowers. 

4.  Will you keep trying for a boy?  

Well, we weren’t exactly trying for another girl.  Or a dinosaur.  Or anything at all really.  Sometimes, God just wants you to have a baby.  And if He wants me to have four girls, I really am good with that.  And so is The Man.  Beyond that, it’s nobody’s business.  End of story. 

5.  How do you feel?  

*crickets chirping*  

This is where I will stare at you blankly while internally debating whether or not to directly lie and utter a feeble, “Fine,” or to unleash the ungodly variety of maladies I am facing on that particular day, making you wish you had never asked in the first place.  Really.  It’s okay to assume I feel terrible.  I am 38 1/2 weeks pregnant so what do you expect?  Just tell me I look cute or that I’m positively glowing.  (After all, I did manage to take a shower and drag myself out of the house.)  Even if I’m not.  I promise it will make my day. 

I swear, I did have my coffee today.  I just really want to have this baby.  Like yesterday.  I am unimaginably thrilled to welcome Numero Quatro to our family.  I am eternally grateful that the serious complications have resolved themselves and while we are still experiencing “hiccups” along the way, our sweet baby is healthy and whole and will make her appearance very soon.  Could there be anything more delightfully rewarding than a houseful of pretty pink princesses? 

Bring it on, Baby.  We are ready for you!

Until then…

Love & Coffee. 

Changing.  That’s what everything is about to do.  And there is nothing I can do it to stop it.  Nor do I want to.  

Ready to get steam-rolled.

Baby is coming, ready or not, in mere weeks (possibly days???) and I have yet to purchase a thing.  Not.  Even.  Diapers.   It wasn’t all that long ago that I was praying beyond all hope that we could just make it through Thanksgiving.  Then Christmas.  And here we are.  Nearly full-term and fully caught by surprise.  Let the incessant list-making begin!  

My mind is a clutter as of late.  Too much to think.  Or concentrate.  Or write.  Too busy hurrying along the days, inching towards delivery.  I am aware that wishing away time is a travesty and a waste, but I just cannot help the fact that I am beyond ready to move on.  This pregnancy has completely worn on me from the moment of discovery.  From the initial shock and awe and surprise, to the complications that subsequently ensued.  This has not been one of those happy-go-lucky-enjoy-your-changing-body-and-the-miracle-of-life-inside-you pregnancies.  This been one of those baby-I-really-hope-you’re-okay-and-I’m-okay-please-God-help-us-all-make-it-to-the-finish-line sorts of pregnancies.  And that kind of mental weight is utterly exhausting in a way I never imagined it could be.  I have come to appreciate the fact that as tough as this has been, there are so many others who face even larger medical battles that I could not fathom facing.  I am grateful for new-found perspective and to be approaching the end of this journey.  

And the beginning of a new one…

The Man and I have been talking and dreaming together of what it will look like.  Four.  Girls.  Perhaps, we are naive in thinking it will be easy.  After all, I am still holding on to the wise words of dear friends with a more ample brood than our own.  (“After three, it’s just crowd control!”)  I mean, we have done this before, right?  It seems too simple, but really babies don’t require as much as we think they do.  They eat.  They sleep.  They play.  Sure, they play the up-all-night game in the beginning, but it won’t be any less sleep than I’m getting now among the acid reflux, the head aches, the general insomnia, etc.  

I long for my babies to all be home with me and The Man.  To be doing life together.  And setting up our homestead this coming spring.  The garden.  The chickens.  The goat!

And to be back to the business of blogging.  Oh to be able to stand more than fifteen minutes at a time, concocting in the kitchen, crafting with my girlies, and running over hill and dale.

Great things are coming.  Here.  There.  Everywhere.  

Love & Coffee. 

So I’m not exactly setting any records on keeping up here.  I’ll be honest.  This pregnancy is so hard.  And complicated.  And now that my doctor has informed us that Baby will undoubtedly arrive early, I feel incredibly unprepared.  Yet, forced to rest.  Which is not all an easy thing for someone like me to do.  

The holiday season is upon us and my heart is full of thanks.  

Oh.

So.  

Thankful.  

As a family, we made something new.  A Thanksgiving tree.  I sent the girls out to gather twigs and branches from the yard.  I found the idea on an adorably inspiring website (www.aholyexperience.com) and printed out colored leaves with Scripture verses, each featuring thankfulness.  (You can find the template here:  Thanksgiving tree.)  I “laminated” each leaf with clear packing tape for posterity’s sake, punched a small hole, and tied with a bow.  

I read them throughout the day.  We read them together at meal times.  And we think about thankfulness.  New.  Traditions.  I hope to continue this each year.

I have so much to be thankful for.  Always.  But I am especially thankful this year.  At this time last year, we were in limbo, having just moved once, and uncertain of our next imminent move.  Our family is so blessed to now own the home of our dreams.

Baby’s latest pic!

I am thankful for my family.  My girls are sweet (all 4 of them).  My hubby is mine.  And we are so happy. 

I am thankful for good friends who are generously helping me out during this difficult pregnancy.  They bring meals for my family, surprise me with treats, and help take care of my little darlings.  

I have prayed incessantly that I would be able to spend the holidays at home and not in the hospital.  And God heard.  These are the first in our new home.  We are making memories.  Sweet, sweet memories.  I am completely thrilled to be hosting our first Thanksgiving here.  The dishes are prepared.  (And tempting.)  The house is clean.  (Well, mostly.)  And I have probably spent too much time on my feet today.  (Please, don’t tell my doctor.)

We baked all day.  We made Pumpkin Coffee Cake.  The little girls helped.  It smells amazing.  And if it’s a hit tomorrow, I will definitely be sharing the recipe here later.  (Oops.  Did someone sample that cake?  I’m sure it wasn’t the starving pregnant lady…)

And here are the pies.  Yes, the crust looks too perfect.  They are store-bought.  But it couldn’t be helped.  I really am trying to be good and stay off my feet so shortcuts are sneaking their way into my kitchen for the time-being!  Peanut did an amazing job helping me.  (Isn’t she gorgeous?)  We had a beautiful time.

We also made 6 dozen homemade crescent rolls.  Give or take.  Can’t wait to see my family tomorrow.  Hope your holiday is beautifully savored with a side of coffee and hearty helping of laughter and good company.

Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.

Love & Coffee.

I waited for it.  I could have settled for less.  But I waited.  And it was worth it.  

He is the best.  God’s best.  For me.  

I often wonder if people really understood how tough marriage can be, would they go through with it?  So many quit just before it gets good.  There is a sweet certain something about having weathered something fierce together that tightens the marital bond.  And believe me, there have been moments.  Curve balls come.  Finances get tight.  Sleepless nights ensue.  But he is there.  And he loves me.  And he models His greater love for me.  

And it works.  

It’s our favorite time of year.  And time to celebrate something special.  It’s our date-a-versary.  

Twelve years.

And it’s time he had a name.  Of course, he has a given name, but as of yet, in the blogosphere he has only been known “Sweet Hubby” or “Dear “Hubby” or any other cheesy sort of moniker I can conjure up at the given moment.  Of course, my girls are known as Peanut, Ladybug, and Lovey… but hubby?  I have no idea.  I have been thinking on this for some time and continually draw a blank.

Naturally, there are the ridiculously sweet sort of names such as Honey Buns, Pookie Bear, and
Love Muffin, but I don’t think I want to go there.

He is unwaveringly devoted to technology and all things computer-related, but “Mr. Roboto” doesn’t seem to jive with me. 

He is hopelessly analytical, but “Anal” doesn’t seem the best way to go here, either.

He is enthusiastically drawn to all things outdoors.  He is a man in every sense of the word.  Tall, strapping, handsome, and makes-me-weak-at-the-knee rugged.  Perhaps, that would suit him best:  The Man.    

My dearest, you are heretofore known as “The Man.”  As if you needed any confirmation.

Happy Date-A-Versary!  

(See Creature Comforts)

  Love & Coffee.