Thank you blog!

My sermon for Wednesday is almost done! Hooray! It will be done before I leave the office today. And it's thanks in part to at least three blog posts. I'm borrowing my own words--or reordering them--or something. I'm not sure why it feels like such a gift of grace, but it is.

Lent is kicking my butt--the writing on the words just had to go. But my energy for writing is slowly coming back. I'm slowly clearing off the crazy piles on my desk and it helps. I cleaned our super icky refrigerator yesterday and it helps. Bringing order helps. Despite the fact that I talked about Sabbath yesterday in worship; about a need to rest. I need that too--but it's figuring out the rhythm of work and Sabbath.

Settle

Yes, I'm a day behind...but that gets to the heart of this anyhow. When is settling for less than perfection just settling?

I guess I never expected to be: a perfect pastor, a perfect mother, a perfect wife, a perfect housekeeper, etc. But how come it feels like settling for less than perfection is settling? It feels like I'm not good enough at any of those things and so it doesn't matter that I'm not doing anything. (Which is, of course, not true.) Most days feel like I'm either not coming up for air or I'm just wasting the day.

So I'm not going to settle anymore. I'm going to strive for more (closer to) perfection. At least I'm going to try.

Injustice

Perhaps this is also a better word for a picture...

Injustice is just such a huge word. It's overwhelming to think about. Perhaps that's why what comes to mind first is Precious/Thing 2 and the beginnings of the terrible 2s. When she cries such huge tears at the injustice of having to do something like have a diaper change or not being allowed to play with a certain thing. But those aren't really injustice...

What should I point out? More than I'm able to even begin to think of today. (Tomorrow's sermon needs to come first!)

See

See...

‘See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.’
Revelation 21:3b-4

These prompts were designed for pictures, but I'm much more a word person (and don't want to give away my identity so easily on this blog).

Still--why are these the words that came to me with the word "See"?

They are beautiful words, yes. They are a beautiful sentiment, yes. I believe God has the power to wipe the tears from our eyes, yes (and sometimes even does). And I believe God is present with us now--at home among mortals today--even as we await the passing away of the first things.

But really, of all the things, see could point to, this is what came up?

I can't explain it; I guess I needed to hear these words again.

Return

"Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love."

I guess I am a church nerd--and it is Lent if just barely.

But these words are ones that are in me, echoing in me this day.

Not bad words for a busy day.

Who am I?

So, a friend posted this on FB and it's designed to be a photo challenge but I'm a rebel, so I decided to attempt to use this as my Lenten discipline. Writing on each of the prompts--as if I don't have enough writing to do. (HA!) But it's also an attempt to contain my on-line time that disappears into the abyss and turn it into something productive.

So today--who am I?

There could be so many answers--especially on this Ash Wednesday, some of which I mention in my sermon for tonight. But somehow, the only one that bubbles to the surface today is mom or more accurately, mama (specifically in Precious'/Thing 2's voice).

When Baby Girl/Thing 1 was small, the law in our state and the recommendation was rear-facing in the car until age 1 and 22 pounds. About a week after her first birthday, I had to travel a long way (6 hours if I recall correctly) with her by myself. In the van, I had her rear-facing carrier seat and her new front-facing seat. I put her rear-facing when I thought and hoped she'd nap and front-facing for the rest so she could see the DVD player. When we got home after that trip, we took out the rear-facing seat. She's been in the other seat since (now using the regular seat belt, not the five point harness) but still.

Now that Precious/Thing 2 is small, the law in our state is still rear-facing until age 1 and 22 pounds, but the recommendation is rear-facing until 2. She's still rear-facing in my car. But in hubby's, we've turned the seat. It's just too hard for the front seat passengers to fit her seat in rear-facing. And, she rarely rides in his car anyhow.

Just a few days ago, I was buckling her in his car and realized that though I complain about getting her in the rear-facing seat (she's getting tall and scrunched, it's so high in my van, etc.), I'm not ready to turn her around. It feels like it will be the last thing that marks the end of her being my baby. Which isn't true of course...I'm my mom's baby as she tells both my girls. But...my baby is growing up. She's solidly toddler. She's independent, oh so independent. She wants to do so much on her own.

AND, she's my baby. She loves her 'babies' (dolls) and any real-life baby. She gets frustrated when she can't take them out of books or photos. We have a number of picture books with Mary holding baby Jesus. And reading them goes something like this. "Where's the baby?" She points. "Yes, that's baby Jesus. Where's his mama?" She points to Mary. "Where's your mama?" She taps her index finger on my chest. "Where's my baby?" She taps her index finger on her chest. "Are you my baby?" She nods solemnly, slowly, deliberately and snuggles into me with a smile.

Yes, she is my baby and I'm her mama.

How Can I Be Sad?

I recently started following a page on fb--the page of the milk bank where I donated. I think I have to un-follow.

Every post I see makes me sad. Sad that I didn't do more. Sad that I didn't keep pumping longer--for them. I think I'm past sadness that Precious/Thing 2 never got to nurse again after surgery. She makes me too happy to be sad about that. I'm okay with how long she got breastmilk.

The timing made sense for stopping. It was a gradual wean from the pump and I had no problems.

But I'm good at making milk. Even if I had taken that week away from the pump when I was at the youth gathering, I could have resumed pumping as I still had some milk for quite some time.

Why does it make me so sad that I only contributed 285 ounces. It's such a small drop in the bucket for babies who need it. I could have done so much more.

And I'm sad.

Chocolate Fail

We are hosting an event at our house on Saturday--a group that rotates once a month. We've been doing theme nights--Mexican, Italian, etc. I had this 'brilliant' idea to try a chocolate theme (in honor of Valentine's Day and also a last weekend before Lent thing).

As the hosts, we provide 'main course' food. So, I found some recipes and experimented...

1. Cocoa enhanced sloppy joes -- I managed to eat mine and thought it was okay. Hubby ate his even though he didn't like it at all. Thing 1 (formerly known as Baby Girl who is not so much baby--pushing 5--how did that happen!?!) ate one bite and spit it out. Thing 2 (aka Precious, my baby who is staunchly toddler more than baby, closer to 2 than 1, already had some temper tantrums worthy of the terrible twos, talk about wondering how quickly we got here!)ate hers--she will eat ANYTHING! I froze the rest and planned to serve them anyhow--but accidentally thawed them on the counter for days, so no. In my defense, they were in the same kind of non-see-through container that I also had cookies frozen in and I thought I was taking those out of the freezer!

2. Cocoa curry chicken rub--again, okay. Not good. Don't think so.

3. Chocolate nut pasta--which I didn't really read the recipe for when I started it. I didn't expect dessert until I got to 3 1/2 cups of powdered sugar!! It was a pain to make and the worst part was/is that it really doesn't taste good. Bummer.

4. Have a recipe for chicken mole--I'm going to make it and hope for the best!! Well, I plan to make it Thursday night or Friday and if it's horrible, one of the Mexican restaurants here has got to have it on the menu.

Oh well, it was fun trying new things. But--next time it's our turn to host, hubby will have to pick the theme.

Words

I haven't forgotten my word assignment. And I'm writing--or rather, thinking about writing--because I need to be. Soon!

I think I've gotten in over my head with Lent starting so soon. I have a week to crank out the rest of this week's sermon, next week's sermon, plus a Lenten 'guidebook' for lack of a better term. Such great ideas I had...UGH!

Then Lent will be upon us, with two sermons per week. I might never blog again. But I can't stand a month not appearing in archives--how crazy is that?

So, instead of this week's sermon, I'm writing here for just a few minutes. Sigh...

And the things I'm thinking, I just can't seem to put down. I'm anonymous here, "Silent," but too afraid to put some things out here. I try to be careful because anyone who might happen upon this who knows me in real life would identify me in a heartbeat. And there are a few real life friends who read this too--though those people in particular are not ones I'd mind knowing these things, but I can't help but think, "what if?"

Maybe it's time to let the blog go--but then I'm not sure I'll write what I don't have to write. Or maybe, I need to let the worry of anonymity go and write about different things.

Guess that's for later. Instead, the sermon beckons.

Pity Party

Yes, it's Christmas Eve and there are so many other big problems in the world but I just need a break and need to scream somewhere. So here it is....AGHHH!!!!!!

Now to just get through today without hurting my family member's feelings. That is my only goal. Sermon is done even if not really liked. Still need children's time, but that will come. No matter what we'll hear the words from Luke 2 and treasure and ponder those words.

To you a Savior is born.

Amen.

Time

To start ~ the first word I was given was "color." As I thought of that, the beautiful brown color of my daughter's eyes came to mind. Then, "faces" ~ again, my beautiful girls. But instead, I'm letting those words "percolate" for something more. Ha!

Or rather, I'm writing about time because that's what has been on my mind.

I'm struggling with time. I'm unfortunately good at wasting or killing time. I know...MaryAnn says that's a horrible phrase. It is...but it feels like the right word right now. If I used my time better, I could get more done--stuff that needs to get done but sucks the life out of me because it's not. (Read--clean the piles of crap off my desk!)

And then weeks like this, where I'm not wasting as much but there's still not enough time! I've gotten to get my sermon written soon. I'd like to do it today as Saturday is busy with a church commitment. Friday I'd like to keep as my day off--which may involve household chores--but also a family trip to the library and as little mind-intensive work as possible. And tomorrow--well, here's the irony. I don't have time to write a sermon tomorrow because I'm going to an all day event sponsored by our synod with the title, "There's Not Enough Time!"

I have so much more I want to say about time, but since my sermon must get written, this will have to wait!

Missing

My words seem to be missing. I want so very much to write on my blog...to write something meaningful and heartfelt. But the only things I seem to feel lately are complaints or whines or one sentence things (that I won't post on that place where everyone seems to be because I just want to vent them to one or two people, not the world--or even just those friends).

I want my words back. I'm consuming them. I've been reading more ~ some books and magazines. But I can't seem to write.

So for the two or so of you who read, will you help me? Comment with a word or a phrase and I'll turn them into posts. Eventually, at least.

I shared with a group recently that I want to write a book. Do I have any more clarity than that? No. I just know that when I think of all the things I ever said when I was a kid that I wanted to be when I grew up, I've done (in some way)--except be an author.

My list was mommy, teacher, librarian, and author. I'm most certainly a mommy. I'm still a teacher in many ways (and was an education major, student teacher and substitute teacher for a brief time). I've worked in 3 libraries. But I'm not an author.

And I need to write. It's good for me. When I'm not writing, I don't know--I just know I miss it.

And for me, this writing is not the same as sermon writing.

I don't know if I'll ever be an author, but I've got to find a way to write more again.

Done

Yesterday, at age 16 months (and 1 day), Precious had her very last breastmilk. I stopped pumping at the end of July. My goal was to get her through surgery recovery with mostly fresh breastmilk. After that, we used my frozen stash. I'm happy she got my milk that long and that she seems to like (and tolerate well) cow's milk.

We are done with babies, barring a miracle (aka a failed vasectomy). And that's okay--good even. I held a tiny baby, 5 or 6 weeks old, at a wedding reception recently and I realized that I didn't even feel the slightest twinge of desire to have another baby. I didn't want to be pregnant; I didn't want to give birth; I didn't want to care for another newborn or raise another child.

But...

First, full disclosure, I judge. When I see a baby with a bottle and his/her mother right there, I think, "Oh, it's too bad they aren't breastfeeding. Formula's not the best choice." And then--since Precious--my second thought, "Oh, it could be breastmilk." Ultimately, I know formula's not evil and everyone has to do what is right for them; I don't know the whole story in most cases. I loved, loved, loved breastfeeding and want others to have that same love that I did. And I know not everyone does, so whatever. Do what you need to do.

That said, as I held this baby and fed him his bottle (formula--I watched the parents mix it), he kept turning his little head and nuzzling me, my breast in particular. And I thought, "oh, just to have a baby nurse again...just to snuggle one more baby to my breast and nourish them with this gift...to do something I'm good at and don't have to work to be good at...to be something I am--a nursing mother." And I suppose, with enough hours tied to a pump, I could produce milk again. (I had to check that night--when I squeeze, droplets of milk still come.) But Precious still isn't allowed to try to make suction until at least December. By then, she won't remember how to nurse. She hasn't had anything to suck since June the way it is. And so I'm done.

And it's going to have to be okay.

I'm glad it's September!

August was...I'm not sure what August was, but here are the memorable moments. (including the last days of July and the first of September)

• Conference which was great 
• except for the long drive with toddler and preschooler, housing that really wasn't conducive to our family including no air conditioning on some of the hottest days of the year, losing the much-loved bear of the toddler
• Leaving conference for another long drive to visit family which was good 
• except for not being able to open the tailgate of the van--having to unload stuff by taking out one carseat, folding the seat and throwing stuff over
• denting the van in trying to shut tailgate (because it opened just enough that the sensor said it was open so I didn't want to drive that way but since I couldn't open it the whole way, I tried everything--the only thing that worked was kicking--hence the dent!)
• Realized I was not getting email on my phone--in trying to fix it my phone ate all my contacts
• My flash drive died completely--with lots of stuff on it--hopefully all other places, though I know some wasn't
• My office computer decided to move slower than usual so I'm using my own laptop at work
• It won't connect to the printer
• Tried to install software to fix that and also to update some others, did not know password for days (tried every possible combination of what my husband might have set it for--it never occurred to me to just press enter when it requested a password)
• The calendar I was trying to make in word wouldn't make bigger squares, though there was plenty of space on the page so it didn't work out how I wanted, but there was no time to change so I went with plan b
• Hubby did indeed forget my birthday--after a day in which they celebrated birthdays at his school, we went out for supper and the table over had a birthday cake with candles and balloons--after the girls were asleep and I was folding laundry about 9:20 p.m., I asked, "What is today?"  After a long pause, he hid his face, "I'm not even a day early..."  Nope.  Oh well--he felt bad and we've been laughing about it.
• Saturday we went on a mini-vacation to my brother-in-law's to spend a few days with him and his family, apparently he told his parents so they came too--I really wanted to have this time without them though I love them
• Shortly after arriving, Baby Girl wet her pants (she was just too excited to see grandma and didn't get to the bathroom in time)
• This was when we realized that in the haste of packing, the bag with the kids' clothes was left at home (I'm mostly blaming hubby--he started packing without asking me if I had everything together or even telling me was going to start packing--AND he started way early for the time we said we were going to leave.  In his defense, the bag was not by the other stuff.)
• And the one spare set of clothes we usually have in the car had been used last week when Baby Girl played in the puddles after a big rain

Of course, none of these things are the end of the world.  They are even mostly laughable now, but it's been a long month...

Edit--add not being able to figure out how to make the bullets/spacing do what I want. UGH!

35....Sigh

Age is just a number. Today I don't feel older than I did yesterday. Today is just today.

But...

It is also my birthday. As today has gotten closer, I've even had to think about how old I would be. It's not a 'milestone' birthday. And even those haven't hit me hard. The biggest birthday in my adult life was 31 ~ it was my golden after all, but really it was because it was the first birthday after a significant life change. It was my baby's 3 month old birthday. Since then, my birthdays seem to matter even less.

I'm not a big birthday girl--I don't plan or crave parties or extravagant gifts. I just want people to remember and just say "Happy Birthday." So far, I've got lots of messages on-line. That's great--but many of those people wouldn't even know it was my birthday if that site didn't tell them.

For crying out loud, my mom didn't even say anything this morning when I dropped Precious off with her. She gave me her gift early, so it's not like she completely forgot, but still...

And, hubby--that's the big one. For years, he's been convinced my birthday is the 30th and so he says he's just always early, he doesn't forget. Well--nothing yesterday. Nothing today yet. Maybe it's too early, but I doubt it. I bet he completely forgot.

So that's what makes me sigh today.

It's not the end of the world; it'll be fine. But for now, I want to complain just a bit!

Hope

Being a mother changes my perspective on a lot of things. I used to hope for much bigger things. I guess I still do. I do, however, use the word "hope" a lot more frequently without grandiose desires.

Take, for example, last night. It was a three committee meeting night at our congregation. Which means I was in meetings starting at 5, 5:45, and 6:30 (and made it to all three close to on time!) It's a crazy night--tonight is a close second with meetings at 5:30 and 6:30. Those are crazy times, but instead of five weeknights away from home, it's two--so a trade off I'm willing to take. But last night, the last meeting went a long time--thankfully with great conversation that was valuable. When I locked the door at 8:10; I sighed. And thought, "Okay, Precious will be asleep in bed. I HOPE Baby Girl will be ready for stories and sleep."

Yeah--maybe my hopes are too grandiose! Both were wide awake, wired, wound and playing. Ugh. Thankfully, they did settle down easier than I thought. Precious a bit more loudly, but both were asleep by just after 9.

Now for more grandiose hopes! I hope Precious is on her way to potty training! In the last week, she has expressed adamant desire to use the potty. Sunday morning and this morning, she pooped on the potty. (She's pretty consistent in time with the first poop of the day, so I wasn't super surprised. I was surprised by how she refused to let me take her off the potty before she pooped on Sunday. She sat a long time--for the always on the go girl!!) And, she peed in the potty twice two--once by expressing desire to sit and once when I just set her on. She's been tending to wake up dry from a nap but then wetting just a few minutes later, so one day when she woke up dry, I put her on the potty and, sure enough, pee came quickly.

I hope she will be using the potty consistently soon-ish. She's only 15 months, so I'm not expecting a whole lot. But I'm hopeful Precious will make it easier on us than Baby Girl did!

What month is it?

I was meeting with a couple in my office last night and realized that my wall calendar still says June. At this point, I decided to switch it to August!

So life is right now...too busy, as always.

But here are highlights...

Precious is doing awesome! Only restriction now is to not let her suck on anything (so no straws, no sippy cups with valves, no bottles/pacifiers/thumb, etc.) for a few months. We don't see the surgeon again until December. She's never been into her thumb or pacifiers (well--we didn't let her be); we finished with bottles a few months ago, and she's never used a straw or sippy cup with valve so no biggie. We won't know about need for more surgery or not until after December. Now I just need to not be so worried and let her try to eat more real food. But she only has 2 teeth--so I worry about moving too quickly from purees. She understands a TON, doesn't have too many real words but is making more sounds and signs and is definitely able to make her needs/wants known! She often wants to sit on the potty (which we are allowing but not trying to train in anyway--she's only 15 months next week) and often shows she needs a new diaper by lifting her shirt and heading to the bathroom. She loves the outside and will bring us her shoes multiple times a day--even when it's 110 degrees outside!

She is an amazing traveler who went with my husband and I and our 33,000 closest friends to the ELCA Youth Gathering in New Orleans. 17 hours on a bus each direction and she had very few tears or tantrums either on the bus or at the gathering itself. Baby Girl had time with my in-laws and loved it but was very glad to have all of us back home!

In the office this week--supposedly writing a sermon for August 5th--as I prepare to head to Chicago for continuing ed. I figured Baby Girl would fall apart if I left again so soon, so she and Precious and my mom will be going with me. When the conference ends, we are heading north to see family for a short visit and will get home in the evening on Saturday the 4th.

Where did the summer go?

*My* Incredible Hulk

Precious is a tough cookie--she has been from birth. She rolled over just shy of 6 weeks old. She lost very little (relatively) weight after birth before the diagnosis of her cleft palate. And just last week, when I was at an evening meeting, I got a text from Hubby. There was a picture of Precious looking rather serious and these words, "Surgery--no problem! Just took on a mouse trap. No tears here." Apparently, she snapped the trap on her fingers and then just looked up at Hubby like, "Um...what was that and what are you going to do about it?" Seriously--no tears, no crying, nothing. Granted it was an old wimpy trap, but still!

Surgery day was Tuesday, June 12. We woke her up at 5 a.m. to give her her morning milk (earlier than usual wake-up--but within bounds of time for surgery). Got ready to leave shortly thereafter. On car ride there, gave her 2 oz of apple juice (again, last she could have pre-surgery). I wanted to be sure she got every ounce possible prior to surgery!

We were a bit early and she was making friends with registration desk ladies, and everyone who came in. Smiling and walking around, in just general good spirits--maybe even smilier than usual when it comes to strangers.

Then they took us back for pre-surgery. We had to wipe her down with an antiseptic cloth--at least it was warm--and dress her in a gown. She wasn't sure about the nurse trying to take her vitals, but he did a really fine job. Then the anesthesiologist came in and asked about how we thought she'd go with a stranger. We said that we didn't think very well. She suggested 'silly juice' to help her relax, but that if need be, one of us could go with until they mask sedated her. We agreed with giving her 'silly juice.' It didn't take her long and she was really relaxed! She went in the doctor's arms--just looked at me like, 'huh?' but not in tears. And I did fine...it's actually almost harder to write about today than it was then.

9 a.m. surgery. We just got settled in the waiting room and a friend of mine came and sat with us. It was so good to visit with her and be distracted. Hubby's parents came shortly after she left. 10:30 a.m. we got first report that she was doing fine. I played and chatted on-line with my sister. Friend left for a time and came back--we took a quick walk. I was really calm. I had asked lots of people to pray for us, and I know they were. We got word at 12:30 or so that the surgeon was ready to see us.

Her report was good. They had a surgery plan A and plan B and had to go with plan B which only slightly increases the chance for a second surgery (from 20% to 35%). She said Precious did great--stable BP, heart rate, etc. for the whole surgery. They would let us back to recovery as soon as they could. The surgeon commented on my 'calm countenance.' I said that we had lots of people praying for us. And hubby commented that now the hard part for us started--getting her to eat, keeping her out of pain, etc. The surgeon had done her hard part.

It was about 1 p.m. when we got to go back. Precious was crying and wailing and swinging her clubs around. (With her arms in splints, they are club-like!) I felt myself reaching to her when I was barely close. It was a bit hard to get a good hold of her as she was hooked up to an iv and also a pulse-ox machine as well as a blood pressure cuff. But I talked to her and barely opening her eyes, she snuggled into me and all was well. They took the crib away and gave me a wheelchair to sit in while we waited for her room to be ready. She was doing great!

We got to her room around 2 and settled in. We spent the night taking turns holding her and going to get lunch and supper. We got a few ounces of milk in her pretty quickly. By 8 p.m. she had had about 3 ounces. Which, considering she spent 3 1/2 hours with her mouth held open and only God and the surgeon knows how many stitches put in (we forgot to ask!) we figure she was in quite a bit of pain. We did keep waking her up round the clock for pain meds. By early the next morning, they were able to remove the iv. Based on input and output (yes--they weighed diapers!), she was holding her own. At that point, all they could do for her was pain meds--and that we could do at home. So, after just one night in the hospital, we came home.

Now--it's just about 10 days later and she's doing great. She really has been doing great since the beginning. Hubby was right, "Surgery, no problem!" The first week, we kept up the heavy duty pain meds around the clock. We are gradually switching now to ibuprofen and waking her up less for meds. She currently sleeps in our bed with us as it's hard to roll over with the clubs. It took a while, but she's eating (or rather drinking) a pretty decent amount. She takes the medicine (pain meds and antibiotics) like a champ--often better than food. She doesn't seem to mind the splints much--and fights us more when we are trying to take them off than put them on. We take them off a few times a day but must hover, hover, hover to prevent anything from going in her mouth. She smiles and giggles maybe even more than before. She is babbling and babbling and we hear new sounds all the time. At first, it was odd--my baby sounded so different. But it's all good. We see the surgeon again in a few weeks.

She's just incredible! We are very blessed. And as for being an Incredible Hulk, the little baby hospital gown was like an adult's--snaps down the back but mostly handing open and snaps at each shoulder. The morning before she was sprung from the hospital, she was playing in the crib (with the side open and me standing there) but she tried to pull up on the rails, but got her knees caught on the gown and one arm snapped open. I giggled a bit and she tried again and the other arm popped. What can I say, she's *my* incredible hulk!

Tomorrow

So much to do before tomorrow...but I have to write first.

Tomorrow is the day that my baby, Precious, has her surgery to repair her cleft palate. Surgery is scheduled to take around 3 1/2 hours sometime in the morning. (We'll get the exact time later today.) It's hard to believe that this time has come even though we've known for around a year that it would be. I am feeling better about the actual surgery, though I'm pretty sure I'll be a wreck during it. Baby Girl will be with my mom starting tonight until we get home. One night hospitalized for sure, possibly two, depending on how she's handling pain and eating--or rather drinking. The next three weeks may be tough--only open cup drinking and all food must also fit that criteria. Splints on her arms so she can't bend her elbows and get anything in her mouth. We'll do everything we can--currently, she'll have a 20% chance of needing a second surgery. If we do everything right, hopefully she'll be in the 80%.

Details are left--cleaning up the disaster called my house, packing Baby Girl's bag for Grandma's, packing our stuff for the hospital. Not sure what we need to take--diapers for example? Ah, well, guess we'll take it all. Daddy can go the store if need be I suppose; I don't plan to leave.

Please pray for us...prayers for Precious as she handles surgery and recovery, prayers for her doctor who will work so meticulously to do all she can to ensure not needing another surgery, prayers for Baby Girl as she has to deal with even more divided attention, prayers for us (me especially) as I turn my baby over to another for this.

"Hi God!"

Tonight, Baby Girl had her first dance recital. On the way home, she suddenly exclaimed, "It's my favorite colors--orange and purple and pinkish-blueish." I commented on the beginnings of sunset above the clouds. (It was, in fact, quite pretty.) Then the conversation went like this:

Baby Girl: It is pretty. I can even see the people in the world.

Me: Really? Wow!

Baby Girl: (with a serious expression as she looks at me) I can even see God!

Me: I'm so glad.

(pause)

Baby Girl: (excitedly) Hi God!

Me: Did you know God can see you?

Baby Girl: Hi God! (looking at me pouting-ly) I can't hear God.

Me: I know sweetie, but God can see you. God is always with us.

That's as far as it went as we turned into the driveway of the place we stopped for ice cream to celebrate the recital night!