Stop.

I will bore you endlessly with details about our trip to French Polynesia, but am going to start with this story just in case life gets in the way and I don't post for another six years or so . . . 

On Sunday, June 12, 2022, Kevin and I hopped on a boat for the "Ultimate Tour" of Tetiaroa. We boarded a boat with the new (only two weeks) manager of The Brando, a sweet couple from outside of London who were ending their "six week holiday" through Hawaii and the Polynesian Islands at the Brando, and a young couple who was not interested in any of the old people on the boat with them. 

Our guide was named Teva (pronounced Teh-va). The boat left the shores of the resort Motu (Tahitian word for island) Onetahi and headed to the shores of Motu Oroatera, which is an island where the Tetiaroa Society is focusing conservation efforts on the Aito tree and coconut crabs and different bird species. 

We started out our tour walking along the "beach" which is composed of tons of crushed coral shells and rocks. Teva told us to stop, hold still, and look down. After about 45 seconds, it looked like the entire shore was moving because it was so filled with hermit crabs. There were so many that you couldn't even count them and they were in constant motion--some moved lightning quick and some very slowly. We were introduced to a "strawberry" hermit crab that is larger than most and has a beautiful red body with white dots on it, similar to the look of a strawberry.    

 

After that, we walked into the forest of Aito trees. 

It looked like what I would imagine a primitive forest looked like--huge canopies formed by tall tall trees and roots and super soft ground underneath. Teva explained the birth of a motu to us and then went into fascinating details about the Aito tree and how it is able to be practically hollowed out in the middle, but continue growing despite that.  . . .

 

We were then introduced to a young coconut crab that was a spectacular shade of blue and climbs like a spider. They live over 100 years and the force of their pincher claw is stronger than the jaw of a great white shark. They are called coconut crabs because they can literally break coconuts with their claws and eat the meat. Unbelievable!

 

As we were heading out of the forest and going back to the boat, we were all looking straight ahead to the boat. And this is the part that matters . . . Teva put up his hand and said, "Stop. Look down. (we saw the crabs moving again) Look up. (we saw several types of birds circling above) Look around. (we saw the tree we had all walked under as we were exiting the forest)." Lo and behold, there were three different species of birds nesting right over our heads as we left the forest--THREE! Not one of us had noticed it and we walked right underneath it.

 

Teva encouraged us all to stop. Notice. There are surprises and beauty everywhere you look, but you cannot see any of it if you don't stop. If I remember nothing else of our amazing journey around the world, I hope my heart holds onto that lesson and stops to enjoy my surroundings, because there truly is beauty in everything. 

After reflecting on Teva and his spirit, I remembered that "te" in French means he and "va" means go. I cannot think of a more fitting name for our guide--he teaches, he guides, and his lessons will stay with us even after he goes. . . .

Why French Polynesia?

When I was going into the 7th grade, I was required to take a foreign language in middle school. I could choose between Spanish and French. Because I had tremendous difficulty rolling my "r," they recommended I take French. I have exactly three memories from that year of French. 

1. I mispronounced "ma soeur" and it came out like "monster" and my teacher chastised me about it in front of the entire class. I cannot remember her name. I cannot remember her face. But I can still hear her voice saying, "Monster? Monster!? NOOOO! MA SOEUR!" I never pronounced it incorrectly again. 

2. We had a cultural event in class where we all had to bring French food. I brought a baguette and Brie, which I had never tried before. I fell madly in love with Brie and baguettes and decided that some day I would live in France. Because cheese. And baguettes. 

3. When we were studying where in the world French was useful (because it really wasn't in Park Ridge, Illinois), we learned about this place called French Polynesia, and specifically, this remote island called Bora Bora. I remember seeing pictures of "the natives," (hey, it was 1984) and their over water huts and also deciding that some day, I would go to Bora Bora. 

Fast forward a few years--like 8 or so--to the summer of 1992 . . . I was able to do "Baylor in Paris" and spend a summer in Paris and Lyon studying French. My family came at the end of the courses and we drove all over France and took in the sights. I turned 20 in France and that summer was the one that changed my life the most. I grew up a lot. Fell deeply in love with France. Got to know myself and what I believed in, on a much better level. I can't recommend study abroad highly enough for any student.  Mission to France? Accomplished. 

The third thing I remember from 7th grade French? That Bora Bora dream? It came true 38 years after that seventh grade goal was set. 

Kevin and I had much to celebrate. In 2021, Kevin turned 50 in February, and our marriage turned 25 in March. But Covid. Covid and travel restrictions and continued fears and worries and waiting our turn to get a vaccine that may or may not help us got in the way of celebrating. . . .so we put it off. But then came 2022. And Covid is still around, but traveling got a whole lot easier, and I had Covid in January and no one else in the house got it . . . and I'm turning 50 in July, so it was time to celebrate. 

Celebrate ALL the things. Celebrate birthdays and anniversaries and health and the ability to travel and see the world again . . . How fortunate I am to have a husband who said yes to my French Polynesia dream and decided that it was the place to celebrate our big life events. 

testing testing

is this thing still working? Can I still post on my long abandoned blogspot? Will it publish? I am not even going to believe it if it does . . . here goes nothing!

1 day down--20 to go

How did I wake up feeling this morning? Awful. Horrific headache, aching body--like I've been in a fight. As weird as it sounds, I'm okay with that. The headache is from a lack of caffeine (not a part of the diet plan, but something I decided to do because I can't won't drink coffee without a truckload of my sugar free hazelnut creamer (and that is a no-no)) and a lack of sugar. I am a total and complete sugar addict. There. I said it. I'm having withdrawals. I get it.

The aching body is from that super special workout experience yesterday. Let me tell you--thirty minutes of one minutes of a move followed by a 20 second break is WAY MORE INTENSE than it sounds. I started off thinking, "this isn't so bad!" and by the time the cute little countdown clock had reached 30 seconds down, 30 to go, I was begging for mercy. Good heavens--I knew I was out of shape, but seriously? Embarrassing. So thankful little Lucy was in the other room because I think I uttered a cross word. Or maybe two. And yes, I went sprinting for water during the fourth 20 second break. Yes, I thought it was ridiculous to think I would need water during a 30 minute DVD.

Shakeology. Shakeology. Shakeology. First sip--oh my yum! This is delicious! But then, the after taste. Little bitter. Midway through, I started my shakeology countdown mentally. "You're halfway there! Hang in there--a few more sips and you'll be 3/4 of the way there! Keep going! Keep going!" However, the effects of the Shakeology shake are well worth the taste, which I figure I'll get used to, right? Because seriously--after my shake--I was full. SO FULL. And not hungry at all. Like the rest of the day, not hungry at all. As a result, I totally wrecked the diet, because I didn't eat nearly enough. I couldn't. I wasn't hungry. I've already started to make adjustments for that today by starting my morning with a three egg white omelet with tomatoes, onions, spinach, and swiss cheese.

So this morning, I am thankful. I am thankful that one day is behind me. I am thankful for the 20 that lay ahead. I am thankful that I'm already feeling SOMETHING in my body. But most of all, I am thankful for our "comfort height" toilets.

21 Day Fix--Here We Go!

It's time. When you step on the scale and weigh what you did in your second trimester of pregnancy, it's time. Time to stop talking. Time to stop whining. Time to do SOMETHING.

My sweet husband said to me several months ago: "I love you whatever size you are. Seriously. It just doesn't matter to me. So if you're happy here, stay here and stop complaining. Own it and be happy. But if you're not happy here, then do something about it other than complain because THAT gets old."

I tried the Plexus program back in May. Did it faithfully for two months--all of their products. Woke up with a pink drink, took 2 factors and one accelerator (then one new launch product--now called Boost) with breakfast, two Biocleanse mid-morning, two Bio-cleanse mid-afternoon, and ProBio at night. Gained 7 pounds, mostly around my middle. I was a Plexus fail, through no fault whatsoever of my awesome sales associate who is continuing to urge me to try it again and keep at it for months. I never felt any different on Plexus. Never felt that surge of energy. My nails did grow faster and my hair did do better, so I plan to keep on the XFactor vitamins. Love those!

Last Thursday, when I stepped on the scale and saw the shockingly horrifying number, I contacted Shari Hill. I've watched her become more and more fabulous every day since January and want in on somma that. I loved that she told me, "These Beachbody programs are no magic pill or drink or anything that's just gonna make the weight fall off and sculpt the muscles . . . it's great nutrition and great exercise that you can incorporate into your busy life for the rest of your life . . . and the results are amazing!"

So I ordered the 21 Day Fix. It arrived two days ago. When I saw the size of the food containers, I started laughing. Hard. Did they send me the American Girl doll containers instead of the adult containers? That's my first clue that maybe, just maybe, I've been way overeating. Today is the day I start. Today is the day I start because in 22 days, it's Lufkin Bistro, and I want to have a glass of wine or two and enjoy myself. And I want to walk out the door feeling GOOD about myself and how I look and not terrified that someone is going to see the bottom of my girdle and that someone is going to see me from the wrong angle and notice how I've let myself go completely. I am ready to walk out of the door feeling GOOD inside, not anxious about how fat I am or miserable because the wires from the damn girdle are digging, digging slowly and steadily into my insides. I want to be happy because the first dress I put on fit, and fit well.

Getting ready to start my first workout. I can do ANYTHING for 21 days. I know I can. This will be my accountability page, in addition to my cute coach Shari. 21 days to fabulous! 21 days to feeling better! 21 days to alcohol and cookies! Ha!!!

My precious "nerd"

So I had the oddest experience yesterday. And what's so strange is that it took me--an adult, a former teacher of middle schoolers, a mother of three, an educated woman--right back to sixth grade. And tenth grade. And that party in college when I went back home after being gone two years. It took me there--and it almost took my breath away. Because I thought that at 41, I couldn't go back there. I couldn't feel so small, so worthless, so defensive, so, well, hurt. But I did. And I can. And maybe that's what has me so unhinged about the whole thing. I can't remember the last time I just wanted to start crying over hurtful words. It was all I could do to keep it together. And it came from a sixth grade girl--a little girl! What on earth?

I have known this child since she was four years old. I have watched her grow up. I have watched her navigate through speech issues and body issues and struggles with being young for her class. And I've always loved her. I've never been anything but kind and positive and supportive of her. Whenever we see each other, we hug and we catch up. I've always enjoyed her and told my son what a sweet girl she is. And then yesterday. Yesterday.

I'm sitting at the Expo Center watching the county science fair. I have my three year old by my side. I've been taking pictures and watching experiments and I am feeling good. Observing my son has been a real treat. He is nearing the end of his first year of middle school and this is the first time I've been able to watch him in a big peer environment.

He is awkward. It's the time of life for awkward. He told me early in the year that he "just feels like he's weird." My response was "welcome to middle school. Everyone feels weird. Everyone thinks they are the only ones who are weird. It's the nature of the beast and I promise you, love--you are feeling what every other sixth grader is feeling. Give it time. You are unique and special and yes, a little weird right now. But so is everyone else you see. So be kind. Be strong. Be you."

As I watch him, I am amazed. He is walking around and saying hey to a lot of faces I've never seen. He is stopping to watch other people's work and is giving them fist bumps afterwards. I meet two of the boys in his classes I've been hearing about all year. They are such good boys and they look nothing like him. And I'm relieved. Because we've always emphasized spirit and goodness of people. So when it's his turn to run his experiment, a small group gathers in the stands.

It is composed of his best friend, who we adore. He is brilliant, well mannered, easy going, always smiling, and a true delight. He's half Korean, too. Three more boys are Hispanic, one sporting a mustache that has impressed Luke all year long. There is another white boy. There are three girls--one white, one Hispanic, one black. On the opposite side, in the arena, are two boys from his Boy Scout troop and one set of their parents. Everyone is so encouraging, so positive, so kind. And it does my heart good.

When Luke's experiment doesn't go flawlessly, they stay and watch and say "that's okay, man!" It's truly an awesome thing to see. I am grateful that he has found people who radiate goodness. No, they're not the athletes, but then, neither is he. Never has been. No, they're not the bunch walking around cocky looking good with their hair perfectly gelled. But then, neither is he. They're not the group on their devices texting each other not to talk to one boy in their group (true story. They decide every few weeks who to ostracize and then change it up to another boy). But then, neither is he. And I'm okay with that. Middle school is awkward, but he has found his groove.

So the experiments are over and it's time to just mill around waiting for results. And I'm approached by the young lady mentioned earlier. We exchange hellos and hugs and I take pictures of her with her science fair entry. She is excited. Her experiment went well and she's eager to tell me all about it. And then. And then. "Hey, Mrs. Langston. You do know that Luke is a total nerd, don't you? Like, he is totally awkward socially and weird. You know he's a nerd, right?"

And I am torn between slugging her (oh c'mon, I wouldn't ever strike a child, but there was an urge) and just crying. And I'm telling myself to breath deep and stay calm and choose my words carefully. And I'm at a loss. A loss. Because I am taken back to feeling less than. To being judged. To being called a name. And because it's my child. And I know kids can be mean and cruel and judgmental, and I know this will happen to everyone at some point. But from this little girl? Her? It almost took my breath away. I don't even really know my response--I think it was something like, "yes, he's in classes with a lot of really smart kids. I know that." And once again, "no, it's not just the people in his classes. It's him. He's a big nerd." So I think the response then was, "well, nerds rule the world so I'm okay with that." Or something equally stupid. And then she walked off.

The day continued. Awards were distributed. My son's group was sitting on the first row of the stadium seats. When four of Luke's friends returned from getting their prizes in the arena, Luke got up, came up to them, and congratulated them. And I was proud.

I pick him up from school and we are talking about the day. And he says, "so, (insert girl's name here) said she talked to you today." "Yes, she did. I took a couple pictures of her, too." "so, she told me that she told you I'm a total nerd and a weirdo. Did she say that to you, mom?"

What??  She was inappropriate enough to say to it me and then she went and said it to him, just in case he wasn't insecure enough? Just to make him feel terrible? Just to prove that his mom, who has always said what a sweet girl she is, is dead wrong? What? What?

"Yes, she did say that. And I want to tell you what I observed about you and your friends today. They are kind. They are encouraging. They are supportive. They have the ability to look adults in the eye and converse with them. They are polite. And there's not much of that going on in sixth grade. So, what she calls one thing, I call another. And I'm grateful, Luke. I'm grateful you are selecting friends who are good on the inside. Who are kind. Who like you for you. And if someone who is wandering around the expo by herself needs to put that down, I'm okay with that. And you should be, too. You are my precious child who makes me proud and you always will be."

And I am. God bless and keep him and all his classmates, even the little girl who thinks he's a nerd.

The day that Super Freak fell Helplessly in Love . . .Again . . . Part I

In the wee small hours of the morning of March 13, 2011, I was awake. The mess of pollen outside had fully clogged all of my airways and I found it easier just to be sitting up in a chair reading "Shape" magazine (yes, at nine months pregnant--I like to torture myself??) and blowing my nose instead of trying to lay down and finding all breathing impossible. While reading my magazine, I found myself kind of bored and decided I was going to write a post entitled, "Super Freak" on this blogspot.

"Super Freak" was going to be about how much I truly, really, honestly LOVED being pregnant and how much I loved having a new little precious life growing inside of me. At my doctor's appointment the prior Monday, March 7, Doc Haskins walked in and said, "So, you're ready to have this baby by now, aren't you? How about Wednesday?" I begged and pleaded for at least another week with her inside me before we induced because I was NOT miserable, anxious, scared, or going out of my mind waiting for the bambino to arrive. I was savoring every moment of having her inside of me and cherishing every single kick, hiccup, and sudden appearance of a knee or elbow gliding across my belly. Baby Girl was still soooo active and happy where she was. Haskins looked at my husband and asked if he was aware of how "odd" I was to want to stay pregnant at 38 weeks. Said that women are normally begging him to take the baby by then. . . but not me.

I guess because this pregnancy was so unexpected and so much of a miracle and a gift, I wanted to cherish every single moment of it. And I did. It was by far the easiest of my pregnancies, despite it being my biggest weight gain and my being "advanced" in maternal age. I never had that exhaustion and crazy emotion I had with Luke's pregnancy, or hours of nausea every night of the first trimester I had with Lilly Grace. The only recurring symptoms of this pregnancy were my colds and stuffed noses, and I probably would have had that with seasonal allergy stuff anyway. Because I had been through labor twice before, I didn't have much anxiety about it and I didn't find myself reading four to five different pregnancy books on a weekly basis making sure I was doing everything "right." This pregnancy was a God thing, and I let Him run the show while I tried to be grateful for it.

So, I was reflecting on all of that and what words I would and could choose to convey my total adoration of the pregnant state when I had to blow my nose yet again. Mind you, all day on Saturday the 12th, I had been having contractions on and off, but there was nothing consistent. Kevin, Luke, Lilly Grace and I had an awesome day eating daddy's pancakes for breakfast, going to the zoo, eating a late lunch on the patio at Crown, and just hanging out enjoying family time. As I went to blow my nose yet again in the wee small hours of the morning on the 13th, I suddenly starting peeing on myself, or so I thought, and I could NOT stop. I went running to the bathroom in a rawther graceful fashion with kleenex between my legs trying to make it stop when it hit me: I wasn't peeing. This was not voluntary. What was happening to me?? It was 4:50 a.m. at this point.

Because I had the forethought to bring my beloved iPhone to the hall bath with me, I immediately started goggling "signs of labor" "how to know when my water is broken" "is my water broken" "what should I do if my water breaks?" I could find no definitive answers, but as I sat there on the potty with liquid continually flowing, I concluded by 5:10 a.m. that my water had indeed broken, and by darn, I had better start working on maintenance and packing up for the hospital. As I walked to the shower, Kevin asked what I was doing and I told him, "My water broke. I'm getting in the shower. You can sleep about half-hour or so, but then we'll need to go to the hospital. I'm not waiting for contractions." Of course, he jumped out of bed immediately.

I tried to stay calm and leisurely get ready for the fun impending labor. The fact that I had absolutely no contractions at all helped significantly in that effort. I packed my toiletries, blew my hair dry, made sure my makeup was perfectly applied, and then called Mom and Dad at 5:38. Told them I thought my water had broken and that they needed to come and be at the house when Luke and Lilly Grace woke up in the morning. They came quickly, took pictures for posterity's sake, and off we went. The fabulous shots we captured that morning are at the top of this blog because I can't figure out how to move them. They are super fab!

The labor and delivery story of my precious, amazing baby girl is to be continued . . . she is waking up from a nap and I don't want to spend one waking moment away from her side!

Oh, happy day!

Oh, happy, happy, joyous day! This has been a WEEK! It's hard to remember the last time I was this ecsstatic to see Friday.

We received some fabulous news on Wednesday, March 1, at my weekly doctor's appointment. Sweet baby girl has TURNED and is no longer breech, so no c-section! Hooray, hooray! I am so proud of her for making the big move southward and to know that a c-section is not at least scheduled makes me feel sooooo much better.

Doc now wants to induce next Wednesday. I am protesting that with everything in me. I go back to him on Monday to see if I have progressed at all (which I hadn't on Wednesday) and he said we will discuss being induced then. I know he wants to induce because it is way easier on his schedule, the baby is a big, healthy girl, etc., but a huge part of me wants to let HER decide when she arrives in the world, rather than fit into his schedule. Yes, it would be easier to schedule and coordinate the children, etc. if she arrived next Wednesday, but to force her into the world before she's ready? I had a problem doing it with Lilly Grace (but bent to the pressure because of Christmas), and really don't want to do it this time around.

Went back to hospital for another flawless fetal stress test and then to Angelina College to get measurements. I got so tickled--to get the weight estimate, they have to take three measurements--the head circumference, the length of the femur, and the belly diameter. They tried THREE times to get her belly measurement, but she is now "out of range," on that. Like her momma! A big bellied gal! Based on the head and femur, they estimated 9 lbs. 9 oz., but Casey said the bigger the baby gets, the less accurate the estimates are, and without all three, it's pretty difficult to guesstimate. Casey couldn't imagine that baby girl had gained a pound in a week!

The other big huge sigh of relief comes from the fact that the AJLI President, Delly Beekman, has completed her Lufkin visit. She was in Lufkin from Tuesday night until Thursday morning visiting a community project; dining with actives, sustainers, and provisionals; leading a general meeting; and having breakfast with past Presidents. It was a wonderful visit, and I am so grateful that AJLI sent her, but it's a big relief to have that behind me and not have to think about Junior League until March 28th.

Kevin just headed to Dallas for the first of his three weekends in March. At the end of the last weekend in March, his trips to Dallas on the weekends for school are OVER! It will be a marvelous day for us all! Happy weekend!

The Day that Changed . . .well . . .a lot

So now that I'm beyond 35 weeks, my doc has enforced weekly appointments, along with weekly non-stress fetal testing. Last week, at 36 weeks and 5 days, I went ahead and decided to donate my time and my baby's gorgeous body to the Angelina County sonography department one last time. The AC sonography students learn how to "do" an ultrasound by working on live bellies two afternoons a week. I have loved being a guinea pig and this was my fourth time to be up there for the fun.

Wednesday's doc appointment went as planned, except that I was expecting him to tell me SOMETHING was happening to indicate I was closer to labor and the only news he had to share was, "Well, man. I don't know where that baby's head is but she is way, way up there. She's nowhere near coming out at this point, Momma!" I was a little disappointed that no progress had been made, because starting on Monday, the 21st, I was feeling a little uncomfortable for the first time and I was SURE it had something to do with thinning out or dilating or something of the like.

Went to he hospital afterwards for my non-stress test. It went beautifully, as it had the week before. She was a busy girl during the test and her little heartbeat sounded like heaven. I am a huge fan of the test--it is such a soothing quiet time with little Miss. Oh, I also went ahead and paid for the delivery that morning at the hospital so that we would be "pre-paid" and I went to Dr. Kim Procell's office and turned in our paperwork and payment so that Baby Girl's pediatrician would be prepared for her arrival.

After leaving the hospital, I went to Angelina College for my ultrasound. Sweet Casey Davis, the program coordinator and lead teacher for sonography, is a friend of mine. I told her that Dr. Haskins wanted to get an approximate weight, if possible, so she insisted on doing it herself rather than leaving it to the students. We did have her students play for a while, and, of course, the baby pointed her left index finger (which she has done every ultrasounds--I consider it my gift from Granny B) and she also flashed a peace sign!

Casey was a little quiet, and then said, "Allyson, you do realize that her head is um, up here and her bottom is down there, right?" Um, no. Hadn't realized that. Had thought I was patting her precious little bottom right under my boobs and instead, it was her head! Baby Girl turned into a Frank Breech position sometime between weeks 31 and Wednesday, February 23. Well, I figured, she's got time to turn . . .this will be okay. Then Casey did the measurements to predict current weight. She did it the first time and said, "I think I'm going to do this again." I asked her what she came up with and she said, "I really don't want to scare you. Let me do it again." So she did. And the second time, the weight prediction came out a whopping 3 ounces lighter. The first time, baby girl measured at 8 pounds 12 ounces. The second time? 8 pounds 9 ounces.

So, the room went wild--everyone was so excited that she is already such a big girl, AND I have three weeks and two days to go until due date! I am soooo thankful that I know about Casey and the program!

I called Dr. Haskins as soon as I left to let him know that the reason he couldn't find the head was because she is BREECH! And, she weighs almost 9 pounds. I talked with his nurse, as he was in surgery. Thursday afternoon, February 24, he called me and told me that we needed to schedule a c-section on Wednesday, March 9--less than two weeks away. We will check again next week to ensure baby girl hasn't turned again and we'll check before surgery, but he feels that for her safety and mine, it will be best to release her into the world 9 days before she's due. He's too concerned about cord placement to try to turn her, and I agree with that one hundred percent. Oh, I forgot to mention that during the ultrasound, they all commented about how beautiful the cord is--it has "hardly any calcifications," which is rare at this stage of pregnancy!

So, my plan all along--which was to absolutely, positively, not know when she was coming and let her arrive at her own pace--has been changed significantly. My plan to have a third vaginal birth has been changed. And I'll be holding her in my arms in less than two weeks! It's hard to believe that she'll be here so soon, and we are now trying to figure out sleep arrangements, etc. for her because of the c-section. I actually bought a co-sleeper yesterday, based on Hilary Haglund's recommendation, because Hilary said that I'll be too sore and she'll be too heavy to lift for nursing the first few weeks, and I really, really don't want to give up nursing this baby girl. Another thing that has changed? My ability to sleep through the night! I've been up several hours a night since learning this news on Wednesday.

The good news is that God is in control. There is still a chance she could turn on her own. Millions of people have c-sections and I will be just fine, as will she. I'm going to see my baby girl soon!

36 weeks--the countdown is on!

Yesterday, I was 36 weeks pregnant. Big, huge sigh of relief. If baby girl decides to arrive at any point now, she will be safe, she will be developed, and she will be ready to face the world. I have always (despite two previous pregnancies) thought that 40 weeks was full-term, but read yesterday on babycenter.com that full-term is any delivery weeks 37-42. I am so grateful that we have made it this far, and hope for a few more weeks with this precious one in my belly.

I started weekly doctor's appointments on Wednesday, and because of my "elderly" status as a Mom, Dr. Haskins has ordered weekly fetal non-stress tests at the hospital, as well--just to ensure that she isn't in any distress. Two days before I was 35 weeks, I had a little "leakage," and I think it freaked him out a bit. Praise God that it wasn't amniotic fluid and that she was safely enclosed in her little world.

My first non-stress test was on Wednesday, February 16, the same day we pre-registered at the hospital and signed up for our payment plan. I was completely shocked at the cost of having a baby/staying in the hospital. For a regular, normal, uncomplicated delivery that includes 48 hours in the hospital and care of both baby and mom, they charge $2500 if you are paying out of pocket. For some reason, I was expecting it to be much more. Of course, that's not the only expenses--we have already paid the doctor upfront, paid for the epidural ($750--and worth EVERY single penny), paid for the Level III ultrasound in the Woodlands, and now we get to pay for these weekly non-stress tests, which are $178 a pop and scheduled for 5 weeks. Anyway, it's good to know that whenever she decides to join us, all the paperwork and negotiating is out of the way and we can get straight to the epidural!

I liked the whole non-stress test experience. You have to go to LDR and lay down on two gauze strips, which they "button" around you with monitors. Then, you hold a "clicker" and every time you feel the baby move, you punch the button on the cicker. Once mom is hooked up, all I had to do was stay still and click away. It was so peaceful to have 25 minutes of just listening to her heartbeat and nothing else. The sweet, Barbie-looking, 22 (at the most) year old nurse handed me the remote to the television, but I really wasn't in the mood for any noise at all. I loved being in an LDR room and NOT being in labor, too. I hope that I'll get to take all of the stress tests--he has me scheduled for them up until 2 days before due date. It is just a peaceful bonding experience that I didn't get to have with my other two--so an advantage of an "advanced maternal age" pregnancy I hadn't planned on!

We are still waiting on her bedding to come in and her changing station to be completed, so her nursery is still functioning as a guest bedroom. It's a good thing, because the guest bedroom currently houses the only working downstairs television. Our TV in the great room decided to retire the Friday of SuperBowl weekend, and I asked Kevin to wait until April to replace it, as that is when you can get the best deal on a new television. We have had some major family bonding time in the "sunshine room," (named by the kids because of the yellow walls painted in there November 2009) watching movies and snuggling up on the bed. Until baby girl's "things" arrive, I just hate to give it up!

I did wash some of her clothes last Sunday. Oh, how I had forgotten about the heavenly scent of Dreft. There is no sweeter smell in the world and sniffing it just made it all the more real that a precious little yummy smelling girl would be arriving soon.

Everyone asks if I think she's coming early. I honestly don't have any idea. She is staying busy, busy in utero, which is supposed to indicate that she's happy and staying for a while. She has descended somewhat, as there is constant pressure on my "nether regions," but based on all of her movement, I think we're still a ways away from meeting her. I love this part of pregnancy where you can see visible body parts floating across the abdomen, watch as she has hiccups, and really feel that body when you pat the belly. This pregnancy has been just awesome and I couldn't feel more blessed!

Who knew?

Who knew that my last blog in June, when I was feeling oh so reflective, a precious third little life was starting in my belly?? I most certainly didn't have a clue. And I can promise you that 18 years ago that night, I never imagined myself as a 38 year old with a newborn. But God is good, God is gracious, and He decided that our family needed another member, so He gave us a blessing baby in the form of a little girl.

To say I was shocked by the news would be putting it mildly. Kevin started grad school in August 09 and is scheduled to graduate in May 2011. I accepted the job of Junior League President for the 2010-2011 year (June through May) because my precious Lilly Grace would start kindergarten in the fall of 2010 and I would have so much time on my hands. My two "babies" were entering 3rd grade and kindergarten, and I was about to have a lot of free time on my hands, after all.

Then, on the day of Friday, July 10, a day that Kevin had gone up to Dallas for class and Luke and Lynda went to Dallas to spend a weekend with Kelly (Lilly Grace and mom stayed home because Lilly Grace had been sick), my always on time to the hour period didn't arrive. That was odd. I waited a dutiful 24 hours and then decided it was time to do a test, just for the heck of it, although there was really no way possible for me to be pregnant. But a late period?? Weird. After going through two boxes of sticks that all came up positive in a matter of about 30 minutes (lots of water intake), I concluded that I was growing older and my hormones must be off.

Kevin arrived home on Sunday and I sat him down in a recliner that afternoon and told him I had to tell him something really, really big. News that he needed to be sitting down to hear because I wasn't quite sure how to break it to him. His first response: "Did you lose your bracelet?" (my 10th anniversary present). No--bigger than that. Then fear struck his eyes. What could be bigger news than that? I pulled the sticks out from behind my back and shock registered in his eyes at first, followed immediately by elation. Then I bawled. Then we tried to figure out how on earth . . . . .the conclusion? It was probably a hormone imbalance. The only time she could have possibly been conceived was 2 days after the end of my last period. And that just isn't possible. That was it. The only time. 12 days before I was supposed to be ovulating. Apparently, no one explained that science to my body.

So, I called my doctor's office on Monday. Laughingly told Jennifer, the world's best nurse, that for some reason, I had positive pregnancy sticks, but there was NO WAY I was pregnant. When I explained the timing of events, she concurred. As I was heading to Chicago for our annual summer trip in a few weeks, she concluded that I should wait until I was at least what could have been 10 weeks along before coming in because at that point, we would either hear a heartbeat or know it was some funky hormones.

I did my best to push it to the back of my mind, but, of course, it was at the forefront of every thought. Three children? Kevin would be 40 before this baby was born! Our house isn't equipped for three children! No, it wasn't possible. It was hormones. Plus, I displayed absolutely NO signs of pregnancy. My boobs didn't ache like they did with Lilly Grace, I wasn't crazy emotional like I was with Luke. I didn't crave sleep all day long like I did with Luke. I wasn't remotely nauseated at any time of the day like I was with Lilly Grace. Yes, this was hormones. Plain and simple.

On July 27, the kids and I departed for Chicago. We arrived early that evening after a very uneventful flight. Mom and Dad picked us up at O'Hare, as always. Dad dropped us and our luggage off and then he headed to go get Gino's East pizza for my first night dinner. As I lifted our big suitcase onto the luggage stand, Mom put out her arm and told me to stop--that I shouldn't be lifting. I looked at her like she was nuts and lifted away. As we arrived in the kitchen, she casually asked me when I was due. Tears again ensued. I wanted to wait until that night to tell her and dad together that everything was fine, but I was having some hormone issues. Um, couldn't wait that long--she said she knew the second she saw me on the curb at O'Hare. After we put the kids to bed, I told Dad. They were thrilled, but truly as shocked as we were. They had a late in life miracle in my sister, Ashley (mom was 39 and dad 44 when she arrived on the scene), but I had been an only child to that point. I told them that I really didn't think I was pregnant because I didn't exhibit any of the emotions or feelings of pregnancy. My only symptom was a late period, and with my other two, I had way more symptoms than that.

On the morning of August 9, while still in Chicago, a family friend for the past 25 years, Beth Nagel, offered to meet me at her volunteer organization where she did ultrasounds for women with unplanned pregnancies. Mom and I went. I had felt great our entire 2 week trip and fully expected to either see a molar pregnancy or an empty uterus. Instead, there was a heartbeat. It was real, and apparently, a really, really easy pregnancy. My only symptom was the sticks and a belly that looked really bloated by that time.

On August 17, Kevin and I went to Dr. Haskins in Nacogdoches. When he did an ultrasound, the little one's arm "buds" were waving like crazy. It was like she was so excited to say hello! We both cried tears of joy. We had a true miracle on our hands and it already had such personality! Of course, he talked to us about all the risks associated with pregnancy over 35 and the possibilities of complications with both the pregnancy and the baby. We told him that we would not do either the protein test or amniocentesis, so he said we needed to have a level III ultrasound and genetic counseling.

On August 19, Kevin brought lunch from Bodacious home to myself and Luke and Lilly Grace. Towards the end of the meal, we asked the kids if they like surprises and unexpected gifts. Of course, that got their attention. We told them we had a very special gift and their enthusiasm continued to rise. We then shared the news that our family would be growing around Spring Break. Lilly Grace's jaw literally dropped wide open and stayed there for about 3 minutes while her eyes continually widened. Luke was convinced we were just teasing. When we showed them the ultrasound pictures, Luke still thought we were kidding--that we were showing someone else's baby. They were both tickled and thrilled once they realized we were actually quite serious!

That night, I had girl's group, and it was a cooking class. We were supposed to bring a bottle of wine and wear an apron. I went to Hobby Lobby that afternoon and purchased a black apron and pink and blue paint. I painted "Bun in the Oven Due March 18, 2011" on the front of the apron. This was Kevin's suggestion, and it was a brilliant one. I arrived a little late with my sparkling cider after running in Lisa Griffin's house to tell her the news on the way. The first few girls didn't say anything--Suzy Childers even said, "Oh, cute apron." After about maybe 6 minutes and getting started on food prep, someone finally noticed and said, "What is that on your apron?" The few who had glanced at it assumed it was an old apron from another pregnancy--so to say there were a lot of screams and "No way!" exclamations would be putting it mildly. Several of the girls took pictures of the apron and me to send to their husbands. Suzy Childers took the picture at the top of this entry and posted it on Facebook with the caption, "Guess who's preggers? And it's not me!" Within three minutes, the fourth comment identified me--it was a woman I still don't know!--and there were 23 comments within less than two hours. The word was definitely out and spreading like wildlfire!

Lilly Grace and Luke started school the following Monday, August 23. Kevin and I headed to the Woodlands on October 21 for our Level III ultrasound and genetic counseling. We were blessed to hear and see that everything on this precious one was absolutely perfect and just the way God intended. Our blessing miracle was a blessing in every way! I absolutely lost it during the ultrasound because that precious little one held up her left hand and pointed her finger. My Granny, Susan Jeannette Blailock, was notorious for pointing the finger on her left hand towards us when she had a very important fact to share. In fact, she used to laugh and tell us to bury her with her finger pointing towards heaven just to ensure there was no confusion! To see my baby with a pointed finger that early in the pregnancy was like a nod from not only God, but also my Gran. In every ultrasound since, that precious baby has had a pointed finger at some point. Every. Single. Ultrasound.

Going into the October 21 ultrasound, Kevin really didn't want to know gender, but I did. I decided to look away whenever they were looking for "those parts" and stared into Kevin's eyes telling him how much it was killing me not to look. At the end of the ultrasound, the nurse handed Kevin a sealed envelope with a picture inside of it and told us we could do what we wanted with it, but that it had the gender written on it. On the drive home, we decided to save the envelope for Christmas morning and open it as a family--after all, this baby was such a gift that it seemed perfectly fitting.

I had a couple of ultrasounds at Angelina College (playing the role of guinea pig for the sonography students) prior to Christmas. It was such fun to watch the baby and its activity. Although I know it's not "possible," I first felt movement at 14 weeks. I frequently told Kevin that I felt like the baby was dancing inside of me, and the ultrasounds showed a very active, dancing baby. It would come up and "kiss" the ultrasound wand, do knee lifts to its elbows, and always point a finger. The last present we opened Christmas morning was our envelope and we were overjoyed to learn that the baby is a girl!

It has been such a fantastic pregnancy. We have traveled to Chicago and spent the week before Christmas at DisneyWorld with the kids. I've had a few colds here and there, and the week after Christmas, Lilly Grace had flu B, and Kevin and I got some yukky crud associated with that, but aside from that, easy, easy pregnancy. She is already such a joy!

On January 12, I went to Dr. Sheila Hill's office in Nacogdoches and had a 45 minute 3D/4D ultrasound. I was 30 weeks along. The precious girl has the most gorgeous lips you've ever seen, big round, pudgy cheeks, and she was already sporting rolls on her thighs. She looks so much like Luke and Lilly Grace! On Wednesday, January 26, I went to another ultrasound at Angelina College. Based on the measurements, they concluded that she weighed 5 lbs. 15 ounces. The "projected weight" for a baby that age on Friday, January 28, is close to 4 pounds. She is definitely a healthy, big girl, and for that, I am so thankful.

I was 34 weeks pregnant last Friday, February 4th and am definitely "livin' large." We as a family have had such fun watching this little one stretch around in my belly--she is a busy, busy girl. When Kevin was at school a couple of weekends ago, on January 22, the kids and I watched the DVD of Luke's arrival. We were all in tears at some point, as Luke realized how much we adored him from the start, Lilly Grace realized that newborns have to undergo shots (she is totally outraged about this, people, and it will NOT happen to this baby!), and I realized just how blessed our family is by this gift from God.

The official due date is Friday, March 18. I will definitely be better about keeping up with this blog, as my time up in the middle of the night is extending to a little time on the computer! Who knew last posting that a beautiful blessing was in the works? God is so, so good.

18 years ago tonight

I was sitting in a cafe in Paris, no doubt very sophisticatedly (it's a word--I made it up) sipping on a Kronenberg 1664 biere, enjoying all the festivities of Fetes d'Ete while listening to an enormous amount of street musicians playing. Each corner was littered with a different act, all sharing their gifts (or what they supposed were gifts) with the pedestrians of Paris. I remember it like yesterday. It was a Sunday. Joy and I woke up at the deVilleneuve's and decided our plan for the free day. We were going to Musee Rodin as soon as it opened--it was just a short walk down from our apartement and we were ready for some sculpture. We had spent the previous day at Centre Pompidou and were in desperate need of some traditional art. When we arrived at Musee Rodin, (after perusing the fruites and vegetables at the farmer's market just down the way) the back garden was absolutely magical. No other word for it. There was greenery hanging from the tops of the tent, and an enormous centerpiece of gorgeous lilac flowers. A harpsichord concert was happening, in honor of Fete d'Ete and it seemed like a glorious little gift, just for us. We, as typical Americans, didn't know that the first day of summer was ushered in with song throughout the magnificent Paris. I'm glad we didn't know--I think the surprise made it all the more magical.

I didn't know 18 years ago that someday I would be married and living in Lufkin,Texas with two absolutely precious little blondies for children. I didn't even know that Kevin Langston existed. I didn't know that I would work part-time for an art museum, or that I would have ended up with two masters degrees from a state university I had never heard of in Nacogdoches (which I had also never heard of), Texas. I didn't know that I would be able to say I had taught students in grades 5 through freshmen in college about English literature and French, and I certainly didn't imagine that I'd be sitting at a laptop with a Bichon Frise at my side writing about this night 18 years later.

I did know, 18 years ago, that my baby sister was turning 7 years old on that very day and would be going into the 3rd grade. I did know that my parents loved me. I have always known that. I did know that God was working through me, and in me, and that I was coming to a better understanding of Him. I did know that the boyfriend I had at the time was NOT "the one," as I had secretly fallen crazy in love with a boy on my trip and, as a result, realized that my boyfriend back home was not what God had planned for my life. I did know that Joy Creel (now Liefeld) was NOT one of the "Triplets" a popular singing group back then, but she was one of my friends and one of the most grounded people of faith I had ever encountered. Also, she knew a heck of a lot more about art than I still know today.

I didn't know that a thing like the Internet existed, although I was introduced to Minitel by my family in Lyon. I didn't know that people would be watching movies on DVDs, which had yet to be invented. I didn't know that people would have cell phones that went everywhere with them and were miniscule in size, as my "car phone" was in a rather large bag.

I didn't know that almost all of my "best friends" would be Christmas card correspondents almost 20 years later, and I sure didn't know that a thing called Facebook would bring us back together again virtually.

I had no clue at all that 17 years later, I would permanently lose my hearing in one ear. I didn't know that 18 years later, I would not have made a return trip to Paris, one of my favorite cities in the entire world.

I found myself in Paris. It's cliche, it's old, it's been said by many, but it is my truth. Wandering and meandering through all those streets, trying desperately to learn and speak a language that was almost completely foreign, spending hours talking and eating with a girl from Los Angeles and a girl from New York, spending more hours with a boy I was completely smitten with who had a girlfriend waiting back home, walking through countless galleries and being exposed to some of the world's finest art, some of the world's most beautiful cathedrals (just the thought of Sainte Chapelle and Chartres can almost bring tears to my eye), eating grapefruit ice cream in Lyon, having a memorable night at a French family's country estate filled with wine and liquers, learning that salade is the last course of a fine meal instead of a first--it all made sense. My reliance on God was essential, my faith that He had angels guarding and guiding my travels was certain. Paris changed who I was, and oh, how I long to go back and walk those streets again--on the night of Fetes d'ete--to relive some of the magic. . . .

Time to get serious

In 236 days, I will be attending my 20th high school reunion. I started working out last August to get a true head start of getting my body "perfect" a year in advance. Here I am, 5 1/2 months later and I haven't lost an ounce. Not one. Despite doing 6 a.m. workouts for months, sweating like crazy, burning 400 + calories each workout. So, at the beginning of February, I started rebelling. For the past two weeks, I haven't exercised. Have eaten crap! Have drunk Dr. Pepper. . .and now, I'm sick of it.
I think this binge was a good thing for me, actually. I am disgusted with myself--completely disgusted--and I think you have to get THERE for make serious changes in lifestyle and diet. So today, tonight, I publicly commit to the following:
For the next four weeks (Starting tomorrow, February 15), I will:

• exercise 5 times a week, burning a minimum of 400 calories per workout
• drink no liquid but WATER during the week--on weekends, I am allowed a total of four glasses of wine
• keep away from sugar (this will be super easy with the Girl Scout cookie order coming in last week--but my body is more important than cookies)
• try to make healthier eating choices
• try to eat every 3-4 hours

It may not make any difference, and if it doesn't, I'm getting my thyroid checked AGAIN! I'll keep you posted on the progress . . . .

Ch ch ch ch ch changes . . . .

So many changes at once can't be good for the soul, but I am trying to hang in there. Of course, the obvious change is that school has started once again this year. I am now the mother to a 2nd grader and a 4 year old. I find that so very hard to believe!

With the school year finally under way, I decided that it was time to work on this old body once again. So, on Tuesday morning, my dutiful workout buddy (and former Miss Texas), Tara, and I decided to take on Elvis. Elvis has a reputation in Lufkin. A reputation for nearing killing you, but for getting unbelievable results. As a former NFL player, he knows how much a body can take, and he seems content to push his clients to the absolute limit. Our first day with him, we did 100 lunges with a bar across our shoulders, 100 squats, boxing, and then two ab exercises for, oh, 100 reps. Honest to God, I have NOT been able to get in and out of a chair, get in and out of bed, get in and out of my car, get in and out of the tub (where I've been trying to soak with Epsom salts), get up the stairs, etc. since Tuesday morning. I have NEVER been in so much pain. Ever. And I've tried a lot of trainers and techniques through the years. We returned this morning, and he decided to work upper body, since we were limping into the gym (seriously). So, we did 20 reps on a 5 circuit training regimen the first time through--then 30 reps the second time through. After that? More boxing. We did figure something out this morning, tho . . . there is a REAL difference if you are a left handed person trying to box like a right handed person. I was having the worst time--no coordination, no movement, no nothing. I was the whitest of white girls. Finally, I said, "Well, I've always been a little different--being left handed and all" "What? You're left handed? Why didn't you say so?" "Why didn't you ask?" Once I got the "stance" right, I was a boxing machine. Watch out, Lufkin--Miss Texas and I are coming for you! Of course, I probably won't be able to grocery shop for a month . . . .Oh! And I forgot to mention--I am now the proud owner of blue 16 oz. Everlast boxing gloves and black Century wraps. Who would have thought that the future President of the Junior League would get her jollies from beating the crap out of some little pads???

One of the most difficult changes for me emotionally has been my 2nd grader's new do. We went last Friday to get it cut, and my angel looked like this on the first day of school:

Here he is with his sister (who was so thrilled to have been awakened to bring brother to school)

He had complained all weekend long that he wanted his hair cut short. On Friday, he told his stylist to cut it short and I gave that the red light. After hearing him complain and complain and complain some more, I gave in. So, on Tuesday afterschool, my precious boy with the thickest, most gorgeous blonde hair in the world transformed from looking like the child who came out of my womb to this:

Here's a picture of the top, just in case you can't tell that my son is BALD now:

He came out of the WOMB with more blonde hair than this, people. It is just KILLING me!

Other changes: fall baseball for the first time, soccer for my daughter for the first time, my husband in school (and having study groups meet twice weekly online), and many, many more. I'll post more very soon--am going to need this as an outlet if I plan to survive the next two years!

A night alone . . .

Has it really been almost four months since an update? Seriously?? Where have I been?

1. Dealing with an addiction to Facebook. I think I'm in the rehab phase as I can now go for a couple of days without a hit. For a while there, it was touch and go. I was spending FAR too much time catching up with people I haven't talked to in, oh, anywhere from 14 to 18 years. What a trip and a delight to find out about the people they are becoming. I think that's why I was so unfaithful to the blog, but it also could have been . . .

2. At Synergy Fitness Boot Camp from 5:30-6:15 Monday -Friday. Today ended week six. I ran two miles this morning in 44 degree weather. Because I chose to do it. Because I was expected to do it. Because I've never done it before in my life. Because I had an I-Pod attached to my arm. Because I need to get in shape. We are running a 5K two Fridays from today. And you know what, for the first time in my life, I think I might actually be able to do it. Is that crazy? For the past six weeks, I have been writing down everything that goes into my mouth, how many calories it contains, how many carbs it contains, how much protein it contains, and how much fat it contains. Then, at the end of the day, I calculate the totals. I am also recording my heart rate, time spent exercising, time in zone, and calories burned EVERY DAY, my friends. Has it made me think before I put something in my mouth? Oh yea . . .

Although I haven't lost but one pound, as of last Friday, I had lost 1.6 points of body fat, which is a much needed thing. In January, I'm signing up for the 6:15-7:00 a.m. Boot Camp because, quite frankly, I am losing my mind running on no sleep. I cannot make myself wind down before 10 on any given night and I have to get up at 4:55 to get dressed, fed and to the Red Barn by 5:30. The other benefit to the 6:15 class? No nutritional journal. PRAISE GOD! And Fridays off, too. Although I'm still going to run on Fridays and go to Spin on Saturdays because it's become a habit and it doesn't need to be broken.

3. Standing in awe watching my brain adjust to deafness. It is INSANE how good God can be. In four and a half months, I have learned how to tolerate noisy/loud restaurants and settings, I have learned to be comfortable looking at total strangers and saying, "I'm sorry. Can you repeat yourself? I'm deaf in my left ear," my children have learned that if they really want my attention they need to approach me from the right, and I am still able to know fully and confidently that God is totally in charge here and this has happened for a reason. Also, the TransEar has come out with a new and improved model--the 380 H-F, "a major breakthrough in bone conduction technology." Although I have to wait until January to ensure that I'm really deaf for the rest of forever and God isn't going to show off with a miracle, I love the TransEar option. It's much better for my needs (and my stomach--I get literally nauseated just thinking about the BAHA--which stands for Bone Anchored Hearing Assistant). Here is what a BAHA implant looks like inside your brain (the white part is your skull--yes, your skull bone--they remove the hair follicles around the area permanently--about the size of a quarter--and if you have a weak stomach, stop reading and looking HERE!!):

Here is what the outside of your head looks like after they have inserted the titanium screw into your skull (I was told the screw would be above my ear):

And this is what the processor looks like when it's attached to the screw:

Here's a picture of the whole BAHA system:

I kind of wish I wasn't such a wuss, but my doctor in Houston said that he believes research is 5-10 years away from regenerating nerves with stem cells. And, the Transear will give me hearing. Maybe. It looks like this on a person and on a table (and this is not the new and improved sports car version):

So--now you know what options I've been exploring--or I can just spend the rest of my life saying, "huh??" No thank you!

4. Chasing after my two precious young'uns. They are both LOVING school and have the best teachers in the entire world--such a blessing for us. After creating two spelling tests of his own words (because hers weren't "hard" enough), Luke is now the recipient of his own personal spelling list at school. And his own personal spelling test. Because his teacher, "doesn't want him to be mad at me for not challenging him!" He's reading like a crazy man--loves non-fiction most of all. He also had his bottom two teeth pulled because the permanent ones were coming in behind--crazy! I swear the root of one of the teeth had to have gone to the child's chin. It was the nastiest thing I've ever seen. My favorite story from his school year involves a podcast. His teacher created one asking the kiddos, "What would you do if you were president?" on Election Day. My precious baby's response? "I woud stop all the hunters from shooting and killing animals." That's my boy! And he's growing up in the heart of killin country--I'm so proud!

Sistah is enjoying her school so much. According to her teacher, everyone just adores her and she is friends with everyone she meets. Of course, that's my dream for her life. Her little personality is really coming out and she it just a HOOT! What a blessing my babies are.

5. Looking at bridesmaid dresses and listening to my mom talk about my sister's amazing wedding. It is going to be an incredible event. My entire family is in the wedding party (husband and both kiddos). Baby girl and I are headed to Chicago in a couple of weekends (party time for the boys) to try on bridesmaid and flower girl dresses. I. can't. wait!

6. Working diligently on my Christmas card. It's going to be fabulous again! I LOVE Snapfish and their collage option--make my days happy! I'll be back much sooner with (hopefully) a much more interesting post!

What ELSE has been happening in my life . . .

Enough about the hearing situation . . . super quick update and then info about what ELSE has happened in my life since the 7th of July! I was able to talk to a friend of a friend of Nancy Chandler's in Dallas who went through this last year. She hooked me up with the email of the nation's top doc in SSNHL, Dr. Jeffrey P. Harris in San Diego. Figuring he would never email back, I took a shot at it anyway . . . and. . . he emailed me back in 10 minutes! Then we corresponded back and forth several times. . . he is AMAZING! He wanted me to go to a guy in Houston who is out of town on vacation, but they got me in with another doc in the same clinic. So, I have now moved from my fabulous, wonderful, delightful, Dr. Fred Owens: to this hunk of a doc, Dr. Robert Williamson:

who also happens to be one heck of a physician. He started me on Prednisone for 3 weeks (woo hoo!) and a diuretic with it, in addition to all the Dr. Owens Niacin 3x day, Lipoflavonoids 2x day, C-Histamine 2x day, Benadryl, and no caffeine, low-sodium diet. Still praying something will work--if not, Dr. Williamson has let me know about several hearing options I have. Could I be more blessed to have an audiologist in the family?? Regardless of the outcome of all this, I will still be able to hear, with or without assistance, and that itself is a HUGE blessing!

Okay--I'm going to start with the most recent and work my way back, because it's easiest for me mentally . . .football season is coming upon us and my little guy has decided that he HAS to play football this fall. And, of course, at age 7, that means FULL TACKLE football. He and Dad went out and started practicing last night. . . .look at these guys . . . .

And have I mentioned lately that my husband has the BEST legs in the world?? Whew--I can't keep looking . . .must. get. cold.water. Of course, during "half-time," our little guy did what every good football player does . . .he read a Time-Life book about "Living Wonders: The Marvels of the Earth." He is just something else, I tell you . . . such diverse interests!

Last Friday, July 25, my precious baby girl decided to use scissors for something other than she had been instructed to do . . . lecture after lecture after lecture about scissors are for paper only resulted in this:
And no, I haven't told my sister or mom yet--I'm thinking it will be better for them just to see it for themselves when we go to Chicago next Tuesday . . . but won't that be cute for the wedding on May 30th?? At least she cut the groom's side view and left the bride's side aisle view for cuteness . . . .of course, she'll have to stand with the groomsmen during the ceremony if my sister wants her standing during the ceremony! I'm thinking that her love affair with my gag-gift-birthday present of the pink "Foxy" hat might actually be an okay thing . . . .
Izzy continues to grow more and more adorable every single day. I don't think God could have created a more perfect Bichon. She is LOVE, LOVE, LOVE! Even my vet recommended that we breed her--everytime she goes for grooming, the groomers all freak out at how adorable she is, and she is so CALM compared to Belle, our crazy last little pup. She's a little dream--could she BE any cuter??? Last week while I was driving, we witnessed the most perfect clouds I have seen in a while, and of course, I grabbed my camera and started snapping without looking through the viewfinder (I was driving, people!), hoping to capture a little bit of what my eyes were seeing--amazing! On July 22, the most precious friend in the world, Stephanie Oliver, hosted a little surprise shindig for me at the Museum of East Texas. Samie Montes helped with decorations, as did Michelle Combs (who created the centerpieces by spray painting tree branches--these people are too talented for me, I tell you), and everyone brought something yummy to eat. And please look at this cake! Mom and Dad sent the flowers . . .I am beyond blessed to have such incredible people in my life--they make me feel so very special and I will never deserve them! This birthday party came after a weekend at the beach with the girls that was just phenomenal. If you ever go to Galveston, Texas, you need to stay at Pointe West. It is the most beautiful I have ever seen Galveston--truly--they actually had blue ocean water and sand that you could walk on--a sand bar that stretched for miles, three pools, a lazy river, workout room--it's incredible! What a great wy to feel wonderful about turning 36!

The week before my beach getaway was spent in Dallas with family and friends. After a fun day with Aunt KK on Tuesday, we spent Wednesday, Wednesday night, and Thursday morning with the Nutting crew, who are truly like family to us. The kids HAD A BALL and the Nutting's new (enormous) house was just beautiful. Alison is a once in a lifetime friend--they had flown in from a two-week trip to Savannah the day before, yet she still opened her doors wide and embraced us. As you can see, the kids didn't have fun at all . . . .

Okay, a few more pics--while Kevin was in Ireland for 10 days (I didn't mention that until he was home safe and sound--never know who is reading this!), this is what our bed looked like:

(And yes, I did squirm in there after taking this picture)

And here are the final pics: my ballerina swimmer and Star Wars fan--I LOVE MY BABIES!!!

Good Thoughts from Max Lucado

His Wing Shelters You
by Max Lucado

“He will shield you with his wings. He will shelter you with his feathers.” (Psalm 91:4)
My college friends and I barely escaped a West Texas storm before it pummeled the park where we were spending a Saturday afternoon. As we were leaving, my buddy brought the car to a sudden stop and gestured to a tender sight on the ground. A mother bird sat exposed to the rain, her wing extended over her baby who had fallen out of the nest. The fierce storm prohibited her from returning to the tree, so she covered her child until the wind passed.
From how many winds is God protecting you? His wing, at this moment, shields you. A slanderous critic heading toward your desk is interrupted by a phone call. A burglar en route to your house has a flat tire. A drunk driver runs out of gas before your car passes his. God, your guardian, protects you from
“every trap” (Ps. 91:3);“the fatal plague” (Ps. 91:3);“the plague that stalks in darkness” (Ps. 91:6);“the terrors of the night…the dangers of the day” (Ps. 91:5). One translation boldly promises: “Nothing bad will happen to you” (Ps. 91:10 NCV).
“Then why does it?” someone erupts. “Explain my job transfer. Or the bum who called himself my dad. Or the death of our child.” If God is our guardian, why do bad things happen to us?
Have they? Have bad things really happened to you? You and God may have different definitions for the word bad.
God views your life the way you view a movie after you’ve read the book. When something bad happens, you feel the air sucked out of the theater. Everyone else gasps at the crisis on the screen. Not you. Why? You’ve read the book. You know how the good guy gets out of the tight spot. God views your life with the same confidence. He’s not only read your story…he wrote it. His perspective is different, and his purpose is clear.
God uses struggles to toughen our spiritual skin.
Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way. (James 1:2–4)
Trust him. “But when I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Ps. 56:3). Join with Isaiah, who resolved, “I will trust in him and not be afraid” (Isa. 12:2).
God is directing your steps and delighting in every detail of your life (Ps. 37:23–24). In fact, that’s his car pulling over to the side of the road. That’s God opening the door. And that’s you climbing into the passenger seat.
There now, don’t you feel safer knowing he is in control?

Magic in Dallas!

Whew! My second shot is behind me--praise God! I received the shot at 2:40--so much for a 1:00 appointment today. So thankful that kids were with Aunt KK who is a wonderful, fun, and loving babysitter. They had a BLAST painting, swimming, and playing and I didn't have a moment's worry.

Funny story from the shot experience today--within 5 seconds of Dr. Owens putting it in my ear, my phone rang. I answered it immediately and it was my precious baby sister, Ashley. She said, "How are you?" I answered honestly, "Not so good--kind of dizzy and spinny right now. I'll balance out in the minute." (The first minute after the shot throws you for A LOOP--like you've had about 30 cocktails in a 30 minute period--then it settles down.) After we talked about 45 seconds more, I told her that I was terribly uncomfortable beause they forgot to bring me a pillow and that I was going to call the front desk to have someone bring me a pillow for my one hour on the same side sit.

I immediately called the front desk and told them that I was a patient in a room and that they were going to have to bring a pillow if they wanted me conscious in an hour--my head was placed below my neck and it was not so very comfortable. They immediately came with a pillow. As this was going on, my precious sister called my mom, worried sick. She told mom that I wasn't feeling good and that I was dizzy and nauseated (Which I was the first minute after shot). So Mom, who was shopping in Chicago with a precious family friend, immediately sprang to action. She called 411, got Dr. Owens number, called their front desk, and told them to tend to me immediately! The nurses sprang to action and came running in the room, "Are you sick?? Are you puking?? Your mom just called and said you are feeling awful!" That Mom of mine, she can get things hopping, even from 1000+ miles away. Cracked me up!

The kids and I went to dinner at Asado's and it was Kid's Night--Mark the Magician was there and "Kids Eat Free!" Mark was a HUGE hit--made baby girl a flower balloon and baby boy a bow and two balloon arrows. The kids had a BLAST. We didn't make out on the kids eat free thing, as my children wanted only one thing for dinner: queso and tortillas. I'm raising them right, I tell you. Since we're on vacation, it was acceptable. We are excited for a fun and fantastic day tomorrow! Moved my Thursday appointment up to 10 a.m. to assure that I get the "luxury suite" room I had last Thursday (pillow included without call) and that we get on the road sooner than later! The prayers are working and I'm going to be hearing again soon--I just know it!

When It Rains . . .

It really, really pours. I went to work today so that I wouldn't feel so guilty about picking up my paycheck at the end of the week, so I left the kiddos with a babysitter. When I called in the afternoon, they sounded GREAT--energetic, happy, having a BALL. When I arrived home just a few short hours later, Sis was sleeping--out cold sleeping--moved her to a new location and put on a diaper and she didn't move sleeping--and hot. Brother--he looked "off"--and he is. He's running a fever of 101, my friends, and he is now soundly sleeping. So, God has given me this gift--two children sleeping at 6 in the evening when I should be packing and getting ready for tomorrow's early departure. But you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to bed. Because, dadgummit--when they both wake up at 9 ready to party, I'm going to be ready to pass out if I don't. Of course, an enormous thunderstorm has just moved in--it's solid rain outside right now, so that makes the sleep option even more inviting. Lord, watch over and protect these babies--please keep them safe and all of us safe on the road to Dallas. I'd give anything to re-schedule the trip, but the shots have to happen within ten days and this is my only opportunity. Yes, Granny B, I'm trying to stay strong . . . .

Good News

Okay--so yesterday morning, I played my favorite phone game (that started Tuesday morning) and called the lovely time and temperature lady to see if I could hear anything but tinfoil crunching. And guess what? I heard intonations in her voice! I couldn't make out all of the words, but could make out most of them (probably because they are memorized??) and it was such a positive thing that I just started screaming and praising God. So. . . there's progress!

Later on in the day, I made my precious Mom talk into the left ear and was able to repeat verbatim what she said. Hallelujah! All this with just one steroid injection and mounds of prayer--imagine what two more injections and a team of prayer warriors will do!

My friends have been amazing--such sweet emails, calls, one even prayed for me over the phone, which was completely incredible and so powerful--she will never know. I have faith that a full recovery will be happening and can't wait to share this story with people--God is so good.

The ear is still buzzing like CRAZY, but I know that will improve with time. The kids thought it was fabulous yesterday outside of Target when an evenly timed beep went off about every four seconds in my head. I felt like I was picking up their radar signal or something--it was BIZARRE! Once we drove out of the parking lot and across the loop, the beeping stopped. They must have a high frequency transmitter or something . . .

Everything is coming together for our mini-vacation in Dallas--it'll be such fun. My sister-in-law is taking off work on Tuesday to watch the kids during my appointment, on Wednesday, we are going to PLAY, and on Thursday, Alison Nutting and her kiddos will be with mine during my appointment. God is really showing off with this, and I couldn't be happier!