Stepping into psycho

The radio station that I listen to in the morning has a segment called "stepping into psycho" basically it is when someone who is normally main stream decided they are going to do something crazy. Follow their boyfriend because they think he is cheating, or putting spy ware on their ex-girlfriend. Something that is sort of embarrassing to admit to.

Sometimes I feel like I have stepped into Christianity psycho. Whispers in your heart, following sensible soft leading, those are things Christians do. And talk about openly. But speak in tongues (I do that as of about six months ago) or tell people that while the ultrasound has so far only detected one heart beat your friend who had dreams the first time is having some more dreams this time. Your dad who got words the first time is having more words this time....and they include other members of the family. You can't quench a hope in your heart no matter how hard you try.

So here I am. Claiming twins again. Believing that this time is THE time. Getting chills when I type that. So, if you have a double infant stroller you aren't using....hang onto it until further notice. I still believe that I could need it.

What are you so afraid of?

Well right now......

I am having a difficult pregnancy. According to my midwives I am perfectly healthy, and I am grateful for that. Truly I am. But compared to the Peanut? This is hell. I am low grade nauseous pretty much constantly. I haven't puked very often, but I could pretty much any second of any day. Just give me a reason. I have to be super careful when I brush my teeth and the pubescent boy musk that my students carry on them is NOT helping. But I would be willing to puke more often if these other two things would go away 1. The nasty "I'm about to puke" taste that is almost always in my mouth and 2. The copious amounts of saliva. Along with the gross symptoms and the exhaustion I am totally beat. And maybe not remembering is God's way of encouraging you to have a second one, but the first pregnancy was NOT this hard.. And this causes me to worry about the following things.

1. Last pregnancy was easy which equaled an easy baby. This time around does hard pregnancy equal super colicky baby? Seems like the only logical explanation to me.

2. What if this isn't the twins? Twin pregnancies are supposed to be harder than singletons. How on earth will I manage through that? For nine months? With two other children......maybe that is why I have been crying for mercy. I cannot even imagine.

3. What if I have been blogging about twins, claiming twins, praying for twins, and they never come. How many years before people think I am crazy......What if the prayer gets answered when I am 50? Peanut could be married and pregnant by then.

4. What if they do come? What if this time is the time? Then I will have 3 under 3, a full time job and a husband in PhD school. That sounds like it is worry worthy if I do say so myself. And I do.

5. Twin birth is not like normal birth, I won't be able to be in the tub, they will want me to deliver right in an operating room, I will most likely have a c-section. I am not happy about any of this.

6. We bought a station wagon off of Craigslist and not a mini-van. What if God sees this as a personal statement of unbelief and doesn't give me twins because I wasn't planning on them? What if I get them and then can't fit all the car seats, and then I can't sell the wagon, and then we have to take two cars everywhere?

7. What if this isn't really a baby? What if I am just having a weird stomach virus?

Okay....I think I'll stop before I embarrass myself further.....welcome to my head.

In the mean time

I am being called to write a very transparent post about the whole twin business that I am struggling with.....in the mean time. This person has something very valuable to say.

http://jessicagottlieb.com/2011/03/its-my-birthday-and-you-have-to-listen-to-me/

At least he's honest....

The other day the kids we babysit for twice a week were having eggs and toast for dinner that I was in charge of cooking. And while my cooking skills may have improved since high school, I'm still the girls who managed to burn canned green beans. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but I think it had something to do with the phone ringing and that conversation being far more interesting than dinner.

Anyway, I had managed to think to ask Elizabeth how she cooked the kids eggs.....but I hadn't listened when she told me. Oops. Turns out the second half to that equation is just as important as the first. Who knew? My conversation with her oldest went something like this.

Me: When your mommy cooks you eggs, are they all yellow and kinda lumpy (I was hoping for scrambled. It is really the only way I know how to cook eggs.)

J: No, they are white.

Me: So they are white on the outside, are they easy?

J: Huh?

Me: When you bite them, is there yellow liquid?

J: Yeah! You bite the egg and yellow stuff squirts out!

So I knew how I was supposed to make the eggs......only I had never, ever made them like that before. And J is sort of a picky eater.....a vocally picky eater. I put the first egg in and managed to flip it yolk in tact. Then I got cocky. I tried to make three eggs at the same time while simultaneously toasting bread. I know this may sound like an easy task for most people. But what can I say, the kitchen simply isn't where my gifts lie.

So I am burning the toast and struggling with the eggs when J comes to look at my progress.

J: You aren't very good at cooking huh?

Me: No I'm not.

J: Yeah my mommy is really good at cooking (Note: this could not be more true)

Me: Your mommy is very good at cooking. You know who else is good at cooking?

J: Mr. Christian?

Me: Yes Ms. Abby doesn't have to be a good cook because Mr. Christian is.

J: (Clearly missing the gender equality lecture I am trying to give and only concerned about dinner.) Why didn't you bring him?

Very good question good sir. Very good question.

WHAAAA Get me OUT!!

The Peanut has learned a new trick, and it isn't winning her any new friends, or even getting her fed what she wants (well her OTHER new trick, licking her lips, is getting her more strawberry pie. I can't help it. It is really cute). It is only making her, and me, and her babysitter tired and cranky.

The Peanut has figured out how to crawl up the walls of both the pack and play, and the crib. She then pulls herself into a standing position. This way she can't go to sleep when she doesn't want to. Lying on her back was allowing her to drift off into dream world. The only problem is.....she has yet to learn how to move herself from her standing position to the sitting one. She gets up there, gets herself stuck, and then gets PISSED OFF. SOMEONE GET ME DOWN! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME UP HERE! Now I know some of you would say that I should just leave her there until she lets go. But I tried that, for far longer than I would ever admit to on the internet. The kid has a stubborn streak (we will go ahead and blame that on her father. Yeah..... Right....she gets that from her dad.) And you would think that eventually she would fall down, but she doesn't trust me. Or if you still don't believe me Christian has a meeting on Wednesday, if you are available to babysit you can see for yourself.

I don't know quite what we are going to do about it, but I was talking to my sister Jill on the phone and she pointed out how many spiritual applications this particular situation has. How many times does God put me in a situation the exact way I need to be in it, with everything I need.....and I manuever out of the situation to a position I have decided I would rather be in? I don't want to (apologize, get up on time, tell someone that really random specific word, confront someone, the list goes on.) so I do what I want instead of what God wants. Then I get really pissed that He would strand me there, standing up, cranky, and exhausted. How could God just abandon me in that situation? HOW DARE HIM! And I don't even have the decency to wiggle my butt back where it belongs. I call out louder and angrier furious that God would leave me in this position. I thought I had at least until the Peanut's second birthday before I say my faults her dad's faults so clearly in her.

So two questions for you, A.) Who else sees themselves in this situation? and B.) Does anyone know how to out smart my 10 month old? Even Elizabeth is stumped. She always has the answer!

Have Mercy

I've been praying a lot since my last posts. About the twins mostly, when where, this time? Lord how long? And repeatedly I hear God tell me. "Pray for my mercy." So I am. I am crying out to God that He would have mercy on me. When I try to pray for the twins directly or ask God when or what to name this one if it is a singular, I get this: Pray for my mercy.

This is what I know about God's mercy. It is good, I live in it. It is different than God's grace. But I don't deserve it either. Last summer, shortly after I had Juliet I got an email that I was being surplussed. I would no longer be working at the school I was familiar with. Along with a new baby, I would have a new school in the fall. All my co-workers, my support system would be gone just when I needed them most. At least that is how I interpreted the move. While I do miss my co-workers very much, the move was merciful. My new school is a better fit for me in so many ways. Turns out as I was being a spoiled brat to God, letting Him know that I wanted what I wanted and hadn't He put enough on my plate, this is RIDICULOUS! It took about 8 hours at my current school for God to show me just how merciful He had been.

The Lord's mercy doesn't always look like I think it will. But sometimes it does. Like an impressionist painting, it is often only a picture we understand when we are able to take a step back from the situation. But sometimes it is as clear as a photograph. I suppose I will have to continue to pray for His mercy, and trust that my God is both merciful, and smarter than me.

What has God's mercy looked like in your life? Has it ever been something you initially were unhappy about?

Boppa is the best (name)

I posted this as a comment at another site and I liked it so much that I'm posting it here as well. The back story is that this lady wrote an article wondering why adults called each other mommy. Why there are mommy blogs. And why marketers market mommy jewelry, mommy sweaters etc.. Anyway here is the Post.

"I have 3 adult Daughters and 4 Granddaughters and I am thrilled when My daughters call me Dad or Daddy. My (almost one year old) youngest Granddaughter says Da and dog but not yet Ma Mama or any combination there of despite my daughters best efforts to assist her in that direction. My Daughter can't wait to be called Mommy. I am most pleased when called Boppa a name bestowed on me by my oldest Granddaughter when she was about one. Boppa is a name that I will probably be called increasingly by children and adults 'till the Lord takes me home and I can think of no greater honor. Then again no one is marketing Boppa bags or jewelry."

What is happening?

Last week I was seriously craving a burger with barbecue sauce and cheese on it. Seriously. I needed one. So we went to taco-mac and got said burger with a side of onion rings. It was delicious. And the pickle on the side was perfect. I am aware of the cliche but I am having a pickle problem this time around. I then proceeded to go outside for some fresh air and I proceeded to hurl the entire dinner up right on the patio. (Thank God it was empty.) Then I had to go tell the hostess that I was terribly sorry but I am pregnant and just hurled all over her patio. And could I please have another pickle? Okay, I didn't say that last part. But I wanted to.

During work time for a major project that is due at the beginning of next week. The three Latinos in third block have elected to take this time to up their ante and proceed to some very physical comedy which includes but is not limited to:
*Stealing my flashlight out of my cupboard, pointing it right at me, then calling my name so I will turn and be temporarily blinded
*Saying they put the flashlight back and then organizing themselves so that one turns of the light, one waives the lit flashlight all over the room, and one beats on the desk and makes "club noise" music at the exact same time. As though a dance party has suddenly invaded my room.
*Getting out my first aid kit and attempting to put band aids all over themselves. When they are denied the band aids, coloring all over themselves with red marker and insisting they are bleeding to death.

And finally, the Peanut now says two words (maybe four, we can't tell if BAY-BEEE and da-da are purposeful). They are Hi! and DOG! both with enthusiasm dog always in a loud volume. Yesterday I had this conversation while my dad laughed from the other room:

Me: Say mama
Peanut: DOG!
Me: No....mama
Peanut: (Pointing at Colt) DOG! DOG!
Me: I'm mama
Peanut: (Squirming to get to the dog) DOG! DOG! DOG!
Me: (Redirecting) Hey, I'm mama, mama.
Peanut: (looking right at me but pointing to Colt) DOG!
Me: Fine, see if he will feed you in the middle of the night
Peanut: DOG! DOG!

In case you didn't catch that last bit...she still wakes up at least once a night........I just hope there is space between when she starts sleeping through the night and September......

Promises, promises

I have two friends who are adopting. One in state infant adoption. One international adoption from Russia. A six year old they met through FORO last summer. Both stories are incredible. Both women are blogging about their journeys here and here. I feel so privileged that they would share their stories with me (and the rest of the Internet.)

Both women have child that has been promised to them. In very different circumstances God spoke into their hearts another member of their family. And their stories speak to me. Recently one of them had a mother change her mind during the ten day waiting period that is the law in Georgia. I can't imagine. I simply cannot imagine the emotional turmoil.

I also cannot imagine going through it with the grace she is exuding. The peace and calm she uses to articulate the experience. The trust she has in the Lord. The readiness in her heart to say "I must have heard you wrong. I will follow you to the depths for my baby." I ran into her just days after she got the call. She was at a consignment sale, picking out clothes for the baby girl she knows is coming home.

I waited in line with her and she talked about the need to mourn with the Lord. To acknowledge the disappointment as she renews her strength to move forward on the path God has put her on. I was struck by this, convicted by what has not been done in my own heart.

I've blogged about it before, the promise of twins I am sitting on. The word that was spoken into my heart years before I wanted to conceive. The names given to me. The friends from afar waking in the middle of the night to pray for twins, the friend who didn't know I was pregnant asking God to open my womb and fill it with twins. But I don't know that I touched on the disappointment I felt when I saw the ultrasound. The one that announced "It's a girl!" It's one girl........hmmm. This was not what I was expecting.

To put it mildly, I freaked. And I'm not southern, so I don't put a smile on my face and let the emotions quietly rage inside. I have a good old mid-western fit and fall in it. I screamed and cried, I told God I thought He was a real a**hole. I called a few of my closest friends to tell them I could not possibly raise a girl. I wanted a girl, eventually. But this time I wanted the twins. The ones I had been telling people about, because the Holy Spirit was leading me to. People who didn't even believe in God, let alone believe that He speaks to people. And so specifically.....even some of the people at my church thought I was out of my ever loving mind! I mean, prophesied twins, boy twins at that. It's all so Old Testament, and that was a long time ago. Surely, God no longer speaks in that way.

I am hesitant to write about this because I don't want the Peanut to think she was ever anything less than completely wanted. While she wasn't the twins I was expecting (and AM expecting), she is more than I could ever ask for, and I am so glad she got here first. But I was disappointed, because I thought I had heard....I know I had heard. I just didn't  hear fully.

In the months after the peanut was born the craziest thing happened. As I understood what it meant to be a mother I realized my boys weren't with me, and I had no idea where they were. I want to adopt and am really open to the idea of an older child, sibling group, out of foster care adoption. I was terrified that the twins MY BOYS were in a home where they weren't being nurtured and loved. The comfort I received as a I sang "Jesus Loves Me" to my baby..... I clung to the line They are weak but He is strong. But I was completely unsettled, like a dog when you take away her puppies.

Until I went to my home church over the summer. And I was prayed over that God would speak clearly to me about those twin boys. And He did with one word: pregnancy. Okay, I thought maybe next time. And (in case you missed my facebook announcement) it is next time. Sooner than we had expected and interesting in timing, but none the lest perfect as a baby and God's timing always are.

But I've already cried twice over the possibility that this isn't it. Not the twins. There are just so many questions I have. If not now, then when? If this isn't it, and then we get the twins that is 4 biological children. How will there be room to adopt after that? What happens if I only have one boy? Do I name him the 3rd favorite name (which we can't agree on) because I am saving the other two for the twins. Do I name him twin one name assuming we will adopt another boy who will end up being the second twin? And the loudest in my heart.....How long Lord? How long will you make me wait for my boys? Will I be as old as Sarah, laughing at the possibility? Did I hear for future generations, what I thought was my own? Will I spend my entire life waiting on something that will never come to pass?

I haven't been dealing with these questions, with the disappointment of things not working out the way you thought they would (even though that way wasn't BAD, peanut, it was perfect). Instead I took my promise of twins and put it in the deep corner of my heart I had put my healing in and shut the door. And whether or not this is THE tine, the Lord has let me know pretty clearly that now is the time to deal with that place. And I am trying. But I am struggling with how....and I could use your help. How do you deal with promises that are in your heart.....but not yet in your life? How do you deal when you hear God incorrectly....incompletely?

The Lord has repeatedly proven He is faithful, so I need to trust Him to bring them to me. As if on cue He led me here and here, two women who heard what the Lord said about their babies.

Oh yeah, He MAKES me lie down in green pastures

I got into a car accident last week. And my mantra since then has been oh crap this hurts I'm fine. Really I'm fine. I know I am wincing a little but I am fine. I went to school on Friday, I didn't get my prescription filled. I was in denial didn't need it. I was fine really. Saturday I hit the ground running and didn't stop until 8 or so when I finally realized I really did need that Tylenol 3. And no pharmacy was open. I got it Sunday before church. Or more accurately during church (the CVS didn't open until 10).

But I didn't really think I needed them that bad. I went to work on Monday and my head was pounding the whole day. I was pretty sore by the time I got into bed. And by Tuesday morning I couldn't hardly move. I was planning to go to school the next day till I almost passed out at Walmart while simultaneously telling my sister I didn't need any thing. It was awful. I called into work on Tuesday and Wednesday and basically sat on the couch sleeping and watching the Cosby Show on netfix.

And now is the part where we talk about my issues. YEAH! I got super sick with mono in Jr. high which lead to fibromyalgia, which I was miraculously healed from. (More about that here.) So I have been out sick from everything more than your average person. And teenagers can be mean. And when you don't look sick it is really easy to assume that you are being a totally weenie pants when in fact you are not. You are actually in a lot of pain. But then a doctor suggests it is fakey, then you start thinking maybe you ARE just soft and you are already a teenager so everything in your head gets very confusing and you can at times convince YOURSELF you are fine when in fact you are clearly not. You are in fact, lying on the ground outside Walmart.

I wouldn't give myself enough grace and I certainly wouldn't just stop. I SHOULD be able to handle it after all. Why wouldn't I? Come on Abby, you pushed a baby out, just go to work sore. But I just couldn't anymore. And guess what? My kids did not light my room on fire. In fact, my room was cleaner and more organized than when I left and my department head was just glad I seem to be doing better. The only one who wouldn't give me a break was me.

God teach me to treat myself with the same grace I extend others.