our baby grew up

She informed us, while stopped at a light: "I can't hear my song while you are kissing, guys!"

Ok, seriously, how old is she?

more benefits, compliments of my Father

It's no secret that we had to wait a long time for this little baby, all the while hearing stories of, "you have no idea what you're in for," and "I don't think you really understand what it's like to have two," etc. Bitterness reigned in my heart on many a day. But my loving Father has graciously given me so many blessings in this current pregnancy.

It's not necessarily "better" to have a baby die, or to have to wait through grief and impatience for another one to come along. I've learned through a history of trials that working things together for good doesn't magically turn bad things into good things. But it does mean that our ever-creative, ever-loving, ever-powerful God can give us good, even when we have experienced bad.

Case in point: At dinner a couple nights ago, I read from the pregnancy book which sits on our dining room table. About to turn 19 weeks, I read the newest measurements and developmental feats. It seems the little DW is currently developing his or her unique set of fingerprints. Last night when Pink was saying hello to the baby, she informed him/her that "Baby, you have fingerprints now!"

Thanks, Lord, for the good things that come from the bad. My little Pink is old enough to keep track of the baby's in-utero development, a concept that baffles my own mind. :)

oh! well hello there

DW (Womb Dweller)-
I've been feeling you for a couple of weeks now, but yesterday, at exactly 19 weeks on the dot, you gave me such a gymnastics show that I had to put down what I was doing to just savor it. That's three weeks and one day earlier than your sister and I'm grateful for you hurrying up! We're so anxious to meet you officially - we look at pictures of you and pictures of babies your age almost every day. We all love you.

wordless wednesday

all by myself

who would've guessed???

When we prayed for divine protection for our 550 mile drive through the night to surprise my mom with a visit, we never guessed that the divine protection would include being pulled over in the first ½ mile of our trip, when we weren’t even on the freeway yet. Oh, did I mention that within seconds of being pulled over, we were swarmed by 3 (yes, three!) back up cops? There were 4 police cars (one was a huge SUV of some sort that looked even more impressive than the cars), and 4 cops circling our little 1990 Camry with untinted windows. What must onlookers have thought?

It turns out that the previous owner once reported the plates as stolen, then found them and put them right back on. The DMV never thought it was important to tell us this when we transferred the title or paid our registration. The cops, however, thought it was very important. Apparently when they come upon a vehicle with stolen plates, there is usually a hardened felon inside. The standard procedure? Call for lots of backup (no. kidding.) and order the occupants out of the car and to the ground at gunpoint!

The divine protection came in the form of some very nice sheriffs who 1)saw the toddler in a car seat and a couple of dumbfounded parents, 2)forewent the gunpoint removal from our car, and 3)even helped us out with tons of advice and a business card/badge number should we be pulled over again during our road trip. They even let us know that if we took the plates off right then, we might be pulled over, but at least not likely dragged from the car with guns at our heads while Pink looks on.

See? Divine protection in the form of a swarm of cops ready to defend themselves against an unassuming family trying to surprise Grammy with a visit for the weekend. And somehow, in over 1,100 miles along California freeways, some of which are famous for having 6-10 CHP staked-out, looking for a “kill,” we were never stopped again the whole trip. God is seriously creative.

Need I add that Beloved is headed straight to the DMV after work to insist we receive new plates? Um, yes, we will be following those nice sheriffs' advice.

wouldn't it be nice

if God would just sky-write the future for us? Or better yet, if he would give it to us on some kind of stone tablets that would stay around for years to come?

Ok, maybe that wouldn't be a good idea. But the temptation is rather strong, what, with the whole losing our house thing, and not knowing where we'll live (as in, which state, not which house), and not knowing where we'll find teaching and construction jobs when those fields are among the worst-hit, and not knowing where I'll deliver The Kid, and not knowing when any of this will happen, and all...

The temptation is strong. Praise God he's stronger than lil' ol' me.

ex-ke-uuuse-me?

You have GOT to be kidding me. I knew the "I don't want to be your friend" comment would hit this household eventually. But I thought eventually meant at least4 or 5 years old. I had no idea it'd fly right in my face as I firmly helped Pink keep her body still enough to settle down and go to sleep.

"I don't want to be your friend." All I could say at first was, "That's ok," and laugh. 2 years old? What in the world does my future hold?!