Liberty has had a fever of about 102 for two days and nights -- not too high, nothing to worry about --but she's complaining of pain in both shins and calves and struggles to walk. I've never seen anything like that before. If she still has a fever tomorrow morning, I'm going to take her to the doctor.

Yahoo! Wonderfulness has been poured on me, and I don't have the time or the attention-span to blog it all.

1. Grandpa and Nonna came to visit over the weekend. That single sentence will have to contain it's own joy for now. I will probably post bits and pieces of the visit as they come to my mind over the next little while.

2. Jeremy gave me a few hours of alone time a couple weeks ago, and I spent it at a local coffee shop. I'll have to tell you the funniness later.

3. Our house has passed most of the hurdles prior to our closing date, and I get to go to Iowa next week! Jeremy said I could take his laptop, so I'll be able to blog along the way.

4. God has changed my hurting heart. I'll give you more details on that later, too.

Another important occurrence during my rain-induced blogging break was the sale of our home. Yes, I did just blandly throw that sentence out with no exclamation points or signs of excitement. How is that possible?

We're supposed to close September 23rd. Since it has not officially happened yet, I'm not allowing myself to rejoice yet. We have to pass a home inspection (which should not be a problem); we have to pass an appraisal (which I don't think is a problem, but with this strange economy, I'm not sure), and we have to find someone who will loan us enough money to cover our loss (amazingly, Jeremy's new company has offered to split the loss with us, so we only need to get a loan for half of our loss!)

Yes, we are thankful to be in the process of selling, but we were hoping to break even or only lose a little. According to our realtor, we have accepted an unbelievably great offer. I'm sure she knows what she is talking about.

I suppose what I'm struggling the most with is saying goodbye to our first home. I love that house. The wonderful kitchen, the lovely fireplace, the red walls. I know, I can paint the walls of our next home, but stop being so practical, okay. I'm trying to grieve here.

And WHY am I trying to grieve, anyway???? We were asking God to sell our house, and He did! Yay for God!

Except it's not official yet, so... small smile for God. ;-)

Rain clouds have forced our wi-fi connection to be sporadic this past week. A lot of important things have happened while I was disconnected, and I have decided to post the one closest to my heart first: Liberty conversations! You know, before I forget them.

LC number one:

Liberty donned a pair of glittery, gauzy wings and fluttered past me. She made a swooping turn and stopped at my feet. "Yook at me, Mommy. Dess what I am."

"Um, are you a butterfly?"

"Nooooo."

"Are you a fairy?"

"Nooooo."

"Well, what are you then?"

"I'm a fly. Better dit a spyspotter, Mommy, and smash me!"


LC number two:

"Yook at me, Mommy. I'm a froggy."

"Oh! Now, how did this froggy get into our house?"

"Uh-oh. Better put me outside, Mommy."


LC number three:

Liberty and I had played several rounds of hide and seek, and I finally found a great spot to hide on the side of my bed farthest from the door. It took about five minutes for her to find me which is about three minutes longer than it usually takes. When she finally discovered my hiding place she cuddled my hand against her heart and gazed at me tragically.

"Mommy, I was never going to be happy again."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I need you to stay home with me always."

Two of our closest friends from college, Rodney and Alicia, came to visit over the weekend. They left yesterday afternoon. Alicia and I were roommates during our first two years of college, and we all easily fell back into the pattern of late nights full of fun and days filled with wonderful conversation.

We taught them to play Settlers of Catan, and they taught us to play XMachina where we had to invent a way to travel in time.

Next time that request is made, I will know an easy way to accomplish it: just invite Rodney and Alicia over. Time moves backwards without anyone realizing it.

Unfortunately, it somehow moves forward by the time morning rolls around. I'll have to make a few minor tweaks to this invention.

I wrote about a strong hurt earlier, and someone sent me this email (and gave me permission to copy it here):


I read your blog today and I wanted to say that I totally relate to what you said. I’ve been hurt badly by people that were closest to my heart and I found myself withdrawing not only from them, but also from others. If people I care about most hurt me, than other people are sure to hurt me right?

We have very few friends at all due to this and even find that we’re distancing ourselves from family members. I’m not sure how to reverse this. Every time I allow someone to get close the first time they make the slightest wrong move I am retreating again. I know in my head that it is unreasonable to expect people to be perfect, but my heart likes to run and hide.


The struggle to move forward.

Truthfully, I don't know how to do it either. This is a subject that Jeremy and I discussed in depth a few days ago. I don't know what to do, what to let go of, what kind of expectations to have for myself or for relationships, how to get past my own wall. It's frustrating because I see myself eventually turning into a lonely, bitter person and that is exactly what I would NEVER want to be.

I begged God a few days ago to show me what He wants. I know He doesn't want my current state to be my perpetual state. In my meandering through the Bible, which I have mentioned before, my devotions that night were in Isaiah, and God showed me this verse.

Isaiah 30:15 - "This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: 'In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it.'"

Hmm, maybe all I need to do is nothing. I've faced my heart; I'm asking God to help me change; now, I just need to let His Spirit do the changing. I'm sure at some point that will require action from me, but right now, I'm supposed to repent, rest, be quiet and trust.

Surprisingly, I have found that hard to do. Letting God DO without me doing? Apparently, I'm not even very trusting of Him! :-)

I feel so smug. The girls and I ran errands all morning, our first morning-full-o'-errands since arriving in Inni-inna. AND these errands were all accomplished before their expiration dates. Can you say WOO-HOOO? I may be getting the hang of this.

We stopped at the new doctor's office with signed transfer paperwork. (Yes, this would be paperwork that I mentioned needed doing in a post a few weeks ago, what of it?) We stopped at the bank to deposit a check (and BONUS - got our address changed and successfully said no repeatedly during a meeting with the bank's pushy sales rep [the noes were directed at the sales guy, not my daughters - DOUBLE BONUS!]) We stopped to balance along the tops of several concrete bumpers in every parking lot. We stopped for obedience lessons, and Liberty continually made some very good choices mixed with a couple bad choices, but overall -- GOOD! We stopped to learn the first line of the pledge of allegiance (every. single. time. we. saw. a. flag.) And let me tell you, this is a patriotic town! We stopped to pick up mid-week supplies at Walmart. Liberty learned the "No-Suching-Innyting" rule. (No Touching Anything -- It's a very important rule.) We stopped to buy Swiss Rolls because I couldn't help myself. They had them lined up at the entrance. Evil Walmart people.

We did not stop to pick up a potty training book with my new library card that arrived in the mail yesterday, but there's always tomorrow!

My blog has remained silent for a while, not because I have nothing to post, on the contrary, posts seem to be bubbling up within me. But every time I concentrate enough to type, the one post that I do NOT want to write is the only one sitting at the tips of my fingers.

So here goes.

It is possible that just typing it will be enough for me. Maybe after I write it out I will be able to delete it and move on. Or maybe it will have to be published. I'm hoping that I can delete it.

For several years, Jeremy and I have struggled with a certain situation about which I want to remain vague. This struggle has shredded our hearts, leaving mangled pieces dangling, exposed to pain whenever the wind picks up. The struggle is now over, but somehow, during those years and especially during the extreme last few months, I erected a protective barrier in front of my heart.

The barrier was never intended to keep people out, just pain. It was a coping mechanism, to borrow a popular phrase; I thought it helped me stay close to the people while keeping the pain-level lower. I think I was wrong.

The only way to minimize pain is to hold the pain-causer at a distance. It's a bit like hugging a hand-grenade, knowing it will explode on you at any second. Minimizing the effects of the blast can only be achieved by running away before the explosion.

But what if -- and here's where the analogy doesn't work very well -- what if you love the hand-grenade? Running away from it is not an option. That dangerous explosion hurts not only you; it destroys the grenade. Jeremy and I would do anything to prevent the destruction of the grenade. Alright, enough with the analogy that no longer works!

All of that was really background information anyway. The point of this post, the subject I intended to address is this. God has brought Jeremy and I into a time of rest. He moved us to a land without connections, without expectations, without a past.

At first, neither of us realized how handicapped we had become. We continued to live inside shells without even knowing it, but slowly we began to see ourselves, to see some of the emotional withering and its affects. I, for example, no longer quickly develop relationships. I laugh at my daughter, Liberty, who stands on our patio and shouts, "HI, FRIEND! WANNA PLAY WITH ME?" to anyone passing, but the truth is, until a year ago, I used to be the one shouting and making immediate friends. Now, I meet people; I chat politely; I long for real friendship, but I hold myself at a distance. It's not fun being burned, and how can I tell who will burn me?

God knew how fragile our souls have become. He knew where we needed to be in order to begin healing. He moved us.

He moved us to a church that I cannot find words to describe. The people love. That is all that can be said. They reach out. They don't believe in just Sunday relationships. At this time when I am unable to reach out, God knew I needed someone who would reach out to me. So He brought us here.

Jeremy is hurting also, and his armor shows up in other areas of his life. Without going into any detail, I will let you know that God has also put him in the specific right spot to recover.

When I say recover, I do not mean that we will revert to the innocence of the way we lived before. No, we hope to grow, accepting the stains, still loving the reasons for the stains, but becoming more mature in our walk with God because of the stains. We do not want to remain in our protective armor. We want to have soft hearts. Hearts that know hurt is possible but that reach out and hug anyway.

It will take time, but our God is good. And He created time.

Last week, the loneliness bug bit me, and I begged God to send me someone to talk with. Someone to be a real friend. He has introduced several people to me as little pick-me-ups, but I'm looking for someone long term and like-minded to share my heart. I specifically have been asking for a lady who has kids right around my girls' ages. I want a friend who will encourage me, but also someone whom I can encourage. I want a friend who will laugh with me until some sort of beverage shoots from her nostrils. And then laugh some more. I want a friend who is up for any kind of adventure, and loves to talk long into the night. I want a friend who loves God with all of her heart and keeps her relationship with Him as her top priority. I want a friend who loves her husband and family and keeps that relationship as her next priority.

I've had a few good friends like that in my life, and I've been separated from them for several years now. Jennifer, Melody, Alicia and Jackie are still my wonderful friends, but distance creates a barrier to daily interaction and adventures.

I read some of the literature that our new church sent us, and I noticed a little paragraph about a MOPS group (Mothers Of Preschoolers) that meets regularly. My eyes brightened, and my heart tingled, that's how God's going to introduce me to my new friend! I just KNEW it!

When Dian (without an e) and I got together on Friday, I asked her about the group. Her kids are now in their twenties, so she has stopped keeping tabs on the MOPS group. "I don't think they are still meeting," she told me. "There was a logistical problem that they were working on, and I think they quit meeting last month."

"Oh," I smiled unconcernedly at her while my heart crumbled. "That's too bad."

The following day, since Jeremy went to Chicago with the guys from church, I had another time slot to fill up. I strapped the girls into the van and drove around town.

Guess what?

I FOUND THE LIBRARY!!!!!

I immediately drove home to gather the necessary piece of mail with my name and address on it in order to obtain a library card. Did you know that in two weeks, I have not received any mail? Or if I have it has my old address on it. How frustrating.

So, I gathered several pieces of mail. One with Jeremy's name and the new address, one with Liberty's name and the new address, one with Jeremy's and my names together and the old address and my old drivers license, and I prayed all the way there.

The librarian's name was Anne. I would guess she was in her late forties, maybe early fifties. She had dark brown hair and a gentle face, but the most amazing part of her was the fact that being around her felt comfortable and easy. I felt loved and cared about immediately. She quickly joined Evelyn from my old church on my List of Women Whom I Would Like To Be Like Someday.

She bent the rules on documentation in order to give me a library card, and she asked a strange question without any context at all: "Would you mind terribly if I gave your name and phone number to another lady who has children right about your girls' ages?"

I stared at her for a second, wondering if I were understanding her intent correctly. "Wh-what do you mean?" I finally stammered.

"Well, I can see that you are new in town, and I'm sure you will be needing some friends. There are a few moms who like to get together every so often..." her voice trailed off, then she clarified, "I would like to give your contact information to one of the ladies, but I certainly would not do so if you would rather that I didn't."

I blinked to dry up the tiny moisture springing to my eyes. There was more moisture there than I expected. I laughed and fanned my face with a nearby brochure, "This is ridiculous!" I told her.

Anne smiled in understanding. "It's okay," she reassured me with a hand on my arm. "I've been new before, too."

Liberty selected a book from a nearby shelf and flopped to her tummy in front of the desk to read it out loud. Anne and I laughed together, she recommended a book to me and then she told me about the story time sign up sheet for preschoolers. I signed up for a Tuesday morning time and a Thursday morning time.

We took two Curious George books, a novel by Roxanne Henke called Learning to Fly and a mended heart home with us.

It felt wonderful!

Moving is highly over-rated. Adventure, new scenery, new friends; sure, it all sounds wonderful. But like those "Go West, Young Man" campaigns back when the West was still frontier land, you never get told of all the hard work and possible death ahead until after you get there.

No, I'm not prone to exaggeration. Why do you ask?

When I started this week, I had a list of relocation-related things to accomplish. I efficiently wrote them in my day-planner, and began immediately. By immediately, I mean after diaper changes, mess clean-ups, breakfast, breakfast clean up, story time, whining interpretation, more mess clean-ups (did I mention we have the flu?), more diaper changes, Mercy's naptime...that's when out of desperation, I inserted Liberty's favorite movie of all time, Disney's Yady and Da Tamp into the DVD player.

Ah, peace.

I looked at my list
1. Email the church for their statement of faith.
2. Find out why Jeremy's new insurance cards do not have the rest of us listed on them.
3. Clarify two different items about our insurance coverage.
4. Find a doctor and schedule Mercy's one year checkup and immunizations.
5. Call the hospital in Illinois where Jeremy was diagnosed with a hernia, and give them our new insurance number.
6. Correct Jeremy's 401(k) contribution at his new company before the wrong amount gets taken out of his paycheck.
7. Get new drivers licenses.
8. Get new license plates.
9. Etcetera

The list was quite a bit longer, but I have to stop typing it before my brain explodes inside my head and begins oozing out of my ears. I happen to like the shirt I am wearing right now.

With Liberty occupied and believing her name to be Yady, I knew it would be safe to focus on my tasks.
1. I emailed the pastor, check.
2. I called the insurance company about the cards, check.

Mercy woke up with a mess in her bed. Bath time came first -- which Yady decided could not be conducted without her in the tub, too -- new sheets and blankets in the crib, lots of whining (I really can’t blame them; they felt miserable), and finally both girls settled on the living room floor each with a bowl and a blanket (although, why I bother to give Mercy a bowl, I really don't know. It's the principle, mainly, and a wild delusion that she may choose to imitate Liberty at some point.)

Yady began barking for some yunch.

Yunch? You can't be serious.

"Do you realize that you are sick?" I asked her. "If I feed you lunch, you're just going to speet up again."

Yady insisted her hunger pangs were real.

Mommy insisted her hunger pangs could be cured by bread and water.

Thirty minutes later, Mommy cleaned up the hunger pang solution, and wondered if bread and water really was a good idea after all.

The day deteriorated from there.

On Tuesday, I awoke with renewed determination to accomplish my relocation-related tasks.

I began immediately. And you know what that means.

3. I called the insurance company to clarify two benefits while Liberty and Mercy alternately talked to me and cried to me. The woman on the phone spoke in the quietest possible monotone voice, obviously reading a script. She stopped for nothing and repeated nothing. I believe I understand our benefits now? Check.

The girls went down for a nap, and I took a quick blogging break. Then back to work again.

4. I printed off the list of eligible doctors from our insurance website, then I spoke with three different people here: my neighbor, Mandy; my friend from church, Dian; our realtor, Bill; they each gave me a few recommendations and a few stay-away-froms. With three doctors on my list, I pondered the best way to narrow them down. I printed a list of interview questions from the internet, and I began making phone calls. That's when I found out that none of the doctors will give Mercy any immunizations without first having her prior immunization record from our old doctor. That makes perfect sense, and I'm glad they are being thorough with my baby, but I don't really want to have records sent until I know which doctor I want them sent to. Sigh. So I picked a doctor, sight unseen, and am sending him Mercy's records. Then I have to go to his office and fill out new patient paperwork, and only after the records are received may I make an appointment. I set the doctor visit task aside to handle another day when the flu wasn’t weighing us down.

5. I called the hospital in Illinois to give them our insurance number. They don't want it read to them over the phone. They want it faxed. Well, La-De-Dah. So I set the insurance card aside into a pile for Jeremy to handle tomorrow.

6. I found the website for Jeremy’s 401(k) but realized I did not have the necessary user name and password. I set that aside for Jeremy to handle tomorrow.

The girls woke up, life picked up speed, and soon it was bedtime.

On Wednesday, I was hit HARD with the flu and did nothing but clean up after the girls and sit in a chair wishing I were dead. Oh, yes, and attempt to explain to my vomitous children why they really did NOT want breakfast, snacks, lunch and supper. Traumatic.

On Thursday, my determination returned, along with the fragile health of my children. They remained symptom-free all day, although lethargy and general tummy rumbliness kept them relatively uncomfortable.

7. I called the drivers license place. They informed me that I needed Indiana car insurance before they would even talk to me.
a. I flipped through the phone book, prayed, and picked a number. They told me that they would process my insurance immediately, but it would not be effective until August 7th.
b. I called the DL place again. They told me I would have to purchase a 30 day permit until my insurance kicked in. After my insurance was in place, I needed to bring it, along with four documents proving I am me (because one or two just isn’t good enough) and money, and THEN they would give me a drivers license.

8. I asked about license plates and was told that I had to bring in the title for Jeremy’s vehicle, his new (still non-existent) drivers license and insurance. For my vehicle, I had to provide the bank contact information along with my non-existent drivers license and insurance. At that point, they would still not issue license plates to me, but they would create a file for me in their office. Then they would contact my bank in Iowa and request a copy of our title. After that is in place, they will call me to have me return to their office so that they can give me a plate. All of this could take much longer than thirty days, and I may have to purchase a second thirty day permit, if it does take longer.

I sighed. All of these roadblocks, all of my hard work, all of the misery of the past week caught up with me, and I wanted to be grumpy. I thought of the friends I left in Iowa. I thought of the lack of friends Indiana. I tried very hard to be discontent, to grouch at my kids. But God kept stopping me. He reminded me of Corrie and Betsy Ten Boom who chose to be thankful for the flea infestation in their concentration camp barracks. Hm, that sounds like the glad game, I thought and immediately perked up. This could be fun!

Here is my list:

1. I am thankful for the flu because a sick Liberty is a cuddly Liberty (an extremely rare species, rumored to be mythical).
2. I am thankful for the insurance run-around because it helped to forge a new friendship with a lady named Julie. We laughed and discussed our children and politics while we waited for her crashing computer to process our insurance request. Odd as it sounds, we really did become friends during that time. She did some major encouraging of me over the phone while we discussed our children, and I am so glad.
3. I am thankful for the ants visiting our apartment because it forces me to vacuum every night. Thus, ensuring that my carpet is REALLY clean. It’s a good feeling. I am also thankful for the ants because they introduced me to one of our maintenance men, Johnny, who has turned out to be a really wonderful and impressive guy.
4. I am thankful that I had to clean up the flu-induced messes because it means that I am actually HOME to clean them up, which means that I am with my girls!

Yay for me! :-)

It has been exactly two weeks since my last day of work outside my home, and I am LOVING hanging out with my kids. But when did Liberty grow up on me? She was a little girl just last week, I promise.

They both have the flu right now -- Liberty's been sick since Saturday(?) and Mercy started making floor art yesterday evening -- so admittedly they are not the happiest children at this point.

But seriously. Have you ever heard Mercy babble to you with that cute little smile on her face?

Adorable!

She took five steps by herself while she thought no one was watching, and the determination displayed on her quiet little face was amazing to see. When she thinks she's being watched she stops concentrating on her actions and instead watches your face. She gets excited to get to you, so she plops loudly onto her little bottom and races to your arms in crawling mode. Jeremy chased her around the apartment on his hands and knees and couldn't catch her. That girl is FAST.

She loudly proclaims, Ma. Ma. Ma. And watches me with glee on her face. Her little eyes crinkle up at the corners anticipating my smile. I've been noticing that she always responds with a certain few syllables when she is handed something, and it turns out that she has been saying Thank You for quite a while now!

Yes, I know none of this is amazing to you. Children everywhere learn to walk and talk, but this is my child. And it's amazing to me! I love it!

Liberty has become my friend. She entertains me with quite ambitious stories, and she helps out with anything that she thinks I might have missed, like the new zit on my chin. "You dot a owie, Mommy? I will tiss it." Yeah, thanks, but that's a little gross. She also tried to help me by picking it for me while we were reading a book. Then she told me, "Mommy, you owie is SO BIG!" Really, she didn't need to say it with such fervency.

Mercy, I'm sure, will be thankful for her two mommies at some point in her life. Every time she attempts something that Liberty deems too dangerous for her, she gets called out. "Meecee Dane, Mommy! No, Meecee Dane!" If Mercy gets into a predicament, Liberty is right there to help her out and give her a hug to stop the tears.

Today, the tables turned, Liberty tripped and fell to the carpet. Already not feeling well, this short fall proved too much for her control. She lay on the floor sobbing. Across the room, Mercy looked up at me. Then she crawled over to Liberty and placed her head gently on Liberty's in a comforting gesture. The sobs continued, so Mercy lay down flat on the floor and angled her neck in order to peer into Liberty's eyes. Her look clearly communicated concern. Once Liberty made eye contact, Mercy again scooted forward and gently rested her forehead on Liberty's hair.

The sobbing stopped, and Liberty's wounds miraculously healed.

Maybe I should have Mercy come rest her forehead on my chin.

We are dreadfully sick. By we, I mean Liberty, Mercy and me. Thankfully, Jeremy hasn't gotten it yet.

I'm declaring a truce with the flu. My current demands are no more carpet stains until morning, and I'm thinking of throwing in no more whining sounds from little mouths.

But that may be asking too much.

On Friday, my brother Nate, sister-in-law Suzy, nephew Abraham and sister Faith (she gets around, doesn't she? -- She's hanging out at their house for a few weeks this summer. She also just spent a week at church camp where she and her boyfriend each shaved off one eyebrow. Theirs is a unique relationship.) came to visit us along with Nate and Suzy's dog, Bonnie, who I thought was contraband according to our apartment rules, so we decided to keep her in hiding. Turns out, I was wrong. My neighbor informed me this morning (after asking about the dog that we apparently didn't hide so well -- It's a good thing we didn't live during the time of slavery in America. Anyone secreted with us would have been discovered rather quickly) that it was fine to have guests who bring pets as long as the pet doesn't belong to us. So all that subterfuge, while fun and exciting, was for naught. But we had a lovely time together, and we are now planning a once a month get together! How wonderful!

On Saturday, we all went to the local HistoryFest at a nearby museum, and afterwards toured a huge empty home for sale. We loved the idea of the house, but there were so many things wrong with it, including some foundation problems. The owner had built the house for himself and his family. It had six bedrooms, two living rooms, three and a half bathrooms and a separate apartment over the garage with two bedrooms and a bathroom. It was in our price range because it had gone into foreclosure, but the workmanship and foundational problems have us mighty scared. Jeremy wants to go in and demolish it to start over. He dreams big. Especially since neither of us knows a thing about demolition or rebuilding.

We celebrated Mercy's one year birthday with a dinner of spaghetti (her favorite), and I planned to make some cupcakes, but I never got around to it. We'll have the cupcakes later this week.

On Sunday, we visited a new church and felt at home immediately. They not only preach God's Word, but they also live it out in life. Their emphasis seems to be on reaching out to others through service. They serve in the community as a church group on a frequent basis and also individually all the time. They also have several mission trips overseas each year. Unfortunately, while we were talking with the pastor, he asked about our old church, and I burst into tears. There's nothing like making a great first impression! And that was nothing like making a great first impression. Ba-dum-bum But God gave me a friend as a result of my tears. A lady named Dian (just imagine there's an e) handed me some tissues and we chatted and cried and sniffed and laughed. We're getting together for lunch sometime next week. Yay for God! Jeremy is going with the men from the church this Saturday to a baseball game in Chicago. The White Sox are playing the Yankees, and we all know the Yankees will beat the sox off of their opponents. I'm not sure why he's even bothering to attend since we already know the outcome.

On Monday, Liberty had the flu, and I spent most of my time cleaning up after her and working on various chores that go along with relocating. She's feeling much better today. Mercy's one year checkup needs to take place pretty soon here, and I have my list of possible new doctors narrowed down to three. It helps with the whole "clarity of thought" thing not to have two children talking to me when I'm on the telephone listening to the health insurance person read our benefit rules to me in a monotone.

I'm off to make more phone calls while both of my girls are napping.

I planned to feed my children spaghetti for lunch today, but our apartment has a carpeted dining room. For the past several days, I have vacuumed after every meal and prayed like crazy whenever Mercy holds anything liquid. That strategy has worked fairly well for me. But my friend Sonja recently showed me this picture of my youngest, and it convinced me that Mercy + spaghetti would probably not mix well with the vacuum cleaner.

We left most of our belongings in our unsold house in Iowa, and we have moved into a small apartment in Inni-inna. (Don't worry, our neighbors are vigilantly guarding our old house.) The new apartment is perfect for my imagination and Liberty and Mercy's friendliness. It's on the ground floor, located right next to the main entrance for the building, and we have a large sliding door that allows immediate access to the patio, yard and (Liberty's favorite) the Mud Puddle! (I would say "pictures coming soon" since I took some this morning, but I have learned not to make statements like that anymore. I still have photos and videos on my camera from January that I'm hoping to download. --Sorry, Stephanie and Brenda!)

The proximity to the main entrance allows the girls to call out "Hi!" to everyone entering and exiting, thus fulfilling their drive to befriend everyone within shouting distance, and enabling Mercy to practice her maniacal waving. Also, the ability to watch the comings and goings of all our neighbors keeps me highly entertained. It's a perfect set up.

The Mud Puddle has become home for a short time to three different frogs. They believe that they live elsewhere, but Liberty has strongly informed them that she has their best interests at heart while she squeezes the organs out of their tiny bodies. It's sad, really. Daddy had a fit when he caught her kissing one and tucking it into her bed. We had to tell her that froggies really do prefer to live outside. Live being the key term. When she finally figures out that they are not just "seepin," we will have to start holding funerals for them.

Our neighbor Mandy and her grand-nephew Kaleb have become our friends. Mandy hangs out at our house and tells me stories of all the neighbors and apartment employees. She's like an encyclopedia. She knows something about everyone. I love it! She's very nice, too. Kaleb asked if he could help me unpack several of my kitchen boxes on Monday, and he volunteered Mandy's scissors to open my boxes until I could find my own again. Then he broke down all of the cardboard and stacked it neatly for me. He's the hardest working eight-year-old I've ever met.

Right now, the girls are napping. The kitchen and dining room are clean. There are Teddy Graham covering my living room floor, and clean clothes scattered all over the bed in the master bedroom. I have folded and put away (amazing, huh?) one load of laundry. Another load has finished drying and is sitting in the dryer waiting for Mercy to wake up (because some genius put the washer/dryer hookup in the second bedroom), and a third load is still dirty and sitting in a hamper in the hallway waiting to be put into the washer. Rain is splashing hard into the mud puddle, which has become a tiny lake, now, and the gutter downspout gurgles a steady bass in the background.

We finally made it to Inni-anna (but I listened closely while Liberty told me about our new state today, and it is actually Inni-inna) which is no small feat when it comes to our family.

OUR PLAN included:
1. Pick up the tiny U-Haul trailer and my van (which was being worked on) in our nearby town then pack them both on Wednesday night.
2. After the girls woke up, pack their beds on Thursday morning.
3. Eat breakfast out in order to minimize home cleanup.
4. Sleep at my parents' house in Illinois Thursday night.
5. Leave early Friday morning and arrive in Inni-inna by suppertime on Friday afternoon.
6. Unpack and use the weekend to relax and explore.
7. Jeremy had to be back at work on Monday morning.

REALITY looked like this:
1. U-Haul called to tell us that no tiny trailers (the only size that Jeremy's little truck is able to pull) were available nearby. We had to drive an hour and a half one way to pick it up on Wednesday afternoon.
2. The car place called to tell us that my van was not yet ready to be picked up. It would require another day's work.
3. Jeremy loaded the washer and dryer onto the trailer Wednesday night with the help of our neighbor (thanks, Denny!), and we quickly realized that the tiny trailer was tinier than we had counted on. The loveseat would not fit. The recliner would not fit. After we put all the boxes on, the one dining room chair that I wanted to take would not fit. We left a pile of odds and ends in the living room to be packed into the van.
4. We missed a call from the car place telling us that our van was ready to be picked up on Thursday morning.
5. We ate breakfast and lunch at home. The girls pretended they were tornadoes. They were very convincing.
6. We eventually realized the van was ready, and Jeremy went to pick it up. We packed and packed and packed that van. I had a few peek-holes through which I could view the traffic.
7. My sister Faith and I whipped the house into order very quickly after the vehicles were packed and lunch was finished.
8. We left the house around four pm, Thursday afternoon, and we arrived at my parents' late that night.
9. Jeremy had to be rushed to the doctor on Friday morning, and he was diagnosed with a hernia that prevents him from driving more than two hours per day.
10. Inni-inna is five hours from my parents' house.
11. We stayed until Sunday which was the only day that another driver was available. My dad drove Jeremy's truck with Jeremy in it. My mom drove my parent's van. I drove our van with the two girls in it.
12. We stopped forty-two times to find Mercy's pacifier and change diapers. (I've never been great at math.)

13. WE ARRIVED!!!!

The offering and counter-offering has gone back and forth all weekend, and we are supposed to give an answer today by five pm.

Jeremy came home late Saturday, and he stopped to pick up my sister Faith on his way here. He's running around town taking care of details, while Faith is babysitting the girls. Wednesday will be my last day of work because (sold house or not)...we are all moving to Indiana together!!! (All but Faith.)

Liberty was overjoyed to wake up from her Sunday nap and find that "Daddy is still home with me!"

She keeps asking, "We all be in Inni-anna together?" Then she goes around the room and touches everybody. "Mommy be in Inni-anna. Daddy be in Inni-anna. Me be in Inni-anna, and Meecee be in Inni-anna. Together! All happy!"

Someone made on offer on our house! :-)

We counter-offered.

True terror has not yet arrived until you step out of the shower and catch the vaguest glimpse of a giant spider scurrying from the folds of a freshly laundered towel a nanosecond before you wrap that towel against your unprotected body.

Paranoia has not yet arrived until you yank that towel from your body, hold it at arm's length and eyeball both empty sides. At that point, a thorough search of the floor and a mirrored search of your hair and back will do nothing to alleviate the all over crawling feeling that haunts, even after you are safely tucked between your sheets.

Reality.

I am impatient.

I don't want to wait around for our house to sell. I don't want to clean up every time something spills or gets pushed out of place so that our house is in constant "showing" condition. I don't want to be kicked out of my house every time someone desires to come see it.

I don't want to sell our house.

There, I said it. I like our land, our neighbors, our swingset, our safety, our comfort. Our home.

I'm sure I will like Indiana, too. I'm sure we will find new neighbors, new friends, a new home. In fact, I am eager to GO! Or eager to STAY! Or eager to DO ANYTHING!

I just hate this waiting.


"Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD."
Psalm 27:14

I don't know what I'm going to call this post. Mainly, because I don't know what I'm about to write.

Jeremy came home for the fourth of July weekend, and it was WONDERFUL!

He left on Sunday just after morning church and before the beginning of the girls' nap times. He tucked them into bed and told them goodbye. Thankfully, when the girls woke up there were only a few questions about Daddy's whereabouts and no tears. However, at bedtime, Liberty's nightmares started up again. (Although, this could be attributed to the copious amounts of sugar she inhaled at the Independence Day parade and the lack of sleep that was necessary to watch fireworks until almost midnight.)

Today, our house is being shown, so we cannot go home until after seven this evening, and on Thursday evening and Saturday morning we are shooed out for the open house! I am very excited about these events and have plans in place.

Tonight, my friend Jackie invited us to her house for a barbecue/slip 'n slide party. Thursday, there is a fun night scheduled at the town square, and Saturday, well, I don't have plans for that, yet, but I'll find something fun to do.

To understand this post, you will need to first read this post (with your sense of humor plugged in.)

After work, I picked up the girls from Sonja's house and we headed to the pool. On the way there, I discussed with Liberty what behavior would be acceptable. We had four rules:

1. When Mommy says "Stop," you need to stop immediately. Liberty nodded her head, "Yes, Mommy."

2. When Mommy says "Come here," you need to come to me. Liberty nodded, "Yes, Mommy."

3. If we are walking somewhere, you need to hold my hand or my shirt all the time. Liberty nodded, "Yes, Mommy."

4. When I say "It's time to go home," you need to obey and not cry about it. Liberty beamed, "I be happy, Mommy."

"Okay!" I grinned at her. "Let's go!" I gathered my things. This took twenty-seven minutes. Finally, laden down with three bulging plastic bags, one canvas bag, two lunch bags, Mercy in one arm and Liberty clinging tightly to my other hand, we made our way through the parking lot towards the pool.

Whose bright idea it was to put double turnstiles at the entrance to the pool, I do not know, but when I find them, I will be sure to inform them that it was a very bad idea.

Did you know that it is possible to get a plastic bag handle so twisted onto a turnstile prong that your sanity could be at risk?

At the payment window, I nodded downwards at my paraphernalia and asked, "Can I just drop all this stuff off and come back to pay?" They agreed, and we happily journeyed to the far side of the pool. I set my bags down, maintained a death grip on Liberty's hand, balanced Mercy in my other arm and searched through my bag for the credit card. Liberty was dismayed to see us heading back towards the entrance. "Where we going, Mommy?" she asked. "To pay for the pool," I informed her.

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"To pay for the pool."

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"To pay for the pool."

"Where we going, Mommy?"

That's when I quit answering. She began to whimper. The exit drew nearer. She began to cry.

I took pity on her, "Liberty, we are not leaving yet. We are just going to pay so that we can swim."

"Where we going, Mommy?"

I stopped at the window to pay. "We only accept cash or checks. Sorry," the teenage girl informed me nicely.

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"Back to our bags to find the car keys."

"We going home, Mommy?" this said with a hint of tears in her voice.

"No, honey, after we get the car keys, we're going to the car to find some money so we can swim."

The trip back to our bags elicited no questions from Liberty, but when we turned around again and walked towards the exit she piped up.

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"To the car to get some money, but we are not going home. We're just getting some money so that we can pay to swim. It's going to be FUN!"

"Where we going, Mommy?"

"To get some money."

"Where we going, Mommy?"

The exit was too close to bear. She began crying, and her hand slipped from my grasp, but she kept pace with me.

When we arrived at the turnstiles, with the parking lot just beyond, I reached for her hand, "Remember what we talked about in the car?" I asked referring to the fact that she needed to hold my hand.

She sobbed, "No crying!" She breathed, attempted to be brave and then sobbed again, "I be happy!" Much sniffing and hiccuping ensued as she slowly stopped her tears.

I tried hard not to laugh.

"You are doing a great job, Liberty! I am so happy that you are obeying. Let's hold hands while we walk to the car."

Once we were legally paid for and able to swim, and since it was one of those days, I fully expected one of my girls to drown or at least need to be life-guarded to safety, but we made it there and home again safely. We didn't even experience a small choking episode during our pool-side supper break!

I sighed with relief and dared to hope that the pox had lifted.

We wore our dripping bathing suits home, making sure to thoroughly wet the seats in the car. I just adore a moldy car smell, don't you? Liberty escaped into the house while I concentrated on freeing Mercy from her car seat and changing her into something warm. I considered changing out of my own dripping bathing suit first, but instead opted to change the girls and then myself. I spread Mercy's wet suit out on top of the dryer and went to find Liberty. She was in our neighbor's yard watching him dig a trench so that his downspouts could continue underground.

She looked up when I arrived on the back porch. "Yook, Mommy, I helping Gampa Chuck!" she announced happily and held up a couple handfuls of dirt.

"That's great, Lib. Let's go inside and get changed so you can come back out and play."

Chuck noticed her hesitation and began walking with her towards the porch. Then he stopped to talk with me. My wet hair and bathing suit enhanced the wind speed and soon goosebumps covered my flesh, but still we chatted. Liberty obeyed and disappeared into the house, but still we chatted. Mercy, in her sweatshirt and pants, attempted to launch herself over the side of the kiddie pool, but still we chatted.

Liberty gave up waiting for me inside and came back out to the porch. She slid the patio door closed behind her, and I heard a distinct click. NO! My brain screamed. It felt like slow motion: I turned to the door and yanked it sideways. It did not budge. I yanked again, knowing full well the result would be nothing. I sighed.

"All the other doors locked?" Chuck stated, looking like he was trying to hide a grin.

"Yes," I breathed, and mentally walked the perimeter of the house. "And all the windows are closed and locked."

We stared at each other, and then I looked at Liberty. I started giggling, which turned into gasps of laughter. Chuck allowed his grin to surface and ruffled Liberty's hair. "With this one around, you're going to need a spare key made to put outside." We walked around the house checking all windows and doors. All locked. I sat on the back steps and pondered.

"Well." Chuck removed a pack from his front shirt pocket and tapped it against his palm until a cigarette fell out.

"Would the police be able to help?" I wondered out loud.

He paused in his cigarette lighting and handed me his cell phone. "Let's find out."

Mr. Officer arrived and parked his jungle gym in our driveway. At least, that's what Liberty thought he did. He was actually driving a car with a special black climbing toy on the front conventionally used to push bad guys' cars out of the way.

He, too, circled the house multiple times and came up with nothing. He called his boss. Together, they decided the very best solution would be to KICK one of our doors in. I let that thought roll around in my brain for .1734ths of a second. Hmm, would it help our chances of selling the house?

"Or," I volunteered, "I could call a locksmith."

Yes, they agreed with a touch of reluctance. I could do that.

And that's when all of the time I'd spent sitting in my wet bathing suit on the front porch praying while I waited for the cops to arrive and come up with a good solution paid off. God flashed a clear picture of the sliding patio door into my head, and this time I noticed that the outside lock was not installed. Instead, a hole about the size of a quarter sat where the key mechanism should have been. "HEY!" I jumped up, startling Mr. Officer and leaving a wet butt print on the concrete steps. "Can we use a screw driver or something on that sliding door?" I described the hole, and we all took off for the backyard.

Two seconds later, we were inside.

Liberty was overjoyed, expecting all of her new friends to join us in the house. "No!" she yelped when Mr. Officer indicated his departure. "Stay with me." She wrapped her arms around his leg. "Stay in my house."

He smiled and knelt down by her, "Sorry, kiddo, I have to go."

"Stay with me," she lured him. "In my house."

He traded a sticker for his freedom, a gold police badge that said Jr. Officer. At bedtime that night, Liberty handed me the surviving half of the badge. "Yook, Mommy. My peaceman give me ticka."

I stood in the bedroom doorway and fondly looked at my girls. Mercy slept soundly in her crib, her right arm flung up over her head. In her own bed, Liberty's golden curls splayed out over her pillow and she smiled, satisfied with her "peaceman ticka."

I closed the bedroom door and walked down the hallway, reflecting on the day. The bumps along the way had enhanced instead of detracted, and I smiled to myself. "I will remember this day for a LONG, LONG time."

"This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."
Psalm 118:24

I jerked awake a full forty-five minutes before my alarm sounded. A glance at the time emphatically informed me, It's going to be one of those days.

I groggily lifted my head from it's pillow and searched the room, wondering why my mind screamed at me, "WAKE UP! It's important! Hurry!" A few minutes of thorough introspection yielded no reason for this urgency, and I drifted back into dreamland.

My phone rang ten minutes ahead of my alarm. My arm dragged lazily towards the ringing object, my eyes remained closed. Bang. I heard the phone hit the floor. Oh man. I moved my body until I could see over the edge of the bed. My arm hit the ground heavily and attempted to grip the phone. Blood flow seeped into my lifeless hand causing stinging pricks up and down my fingers. By the time I could lift the phone to my ear, the caller had given up.

Yep, definitely one of those days.

When my alarm finally sounded, I groaned and dragged myself from the bed. It wasn't until I had finished several morning routines and stood in my closet choosing an outfit that I realized the cause for my earlier sense of urgency.

1. An important potential client was meeting with us at work first thing in the morning which meant that I needed to arrive at work earlier than usual.
2. The girls and I were meeting some friends at the pool in the afternoon which meant that I had extra preparations to complete before we could leave the house.
3. My oil change appointment was for this morning which meant that I would need to leave the house even earlier than early in order to drop my vehicle off and be given a ride to work.

I looked at the little clock sitting in the bathroom. "Oh no!" I groaned aloud.
It IS one of those days.
For the benefit of the potential client, I chose a dressier than usual outfit. Then I rushed through dressing and hair-fixing. I searched in vain for our pool bag (which I think I remember packing into a box a few weeks ago) and finally stuffed the pool supplies into plastic bags. I ran through the house from dryer to counter-top rolling up towels and wadding up bathing suits as I ran. I shoved snacks into lunch bags, trying to pick out a well-balanced, baby-friendly, non-messy, meal that we could eat as a pool-side supper later. With all of that accomplished, I opened the girls' bedroom door to greet my daughters. "Good morning!" I chirped to them.

Liberty stared at me. She removed the thumb from her mouth long enough to say, "Huh-uh." Then she popped it back in and pulled her blanket over her head.

Oh. I told myself. It's going to be one of THOSE days.

I ignored her and lifted Mercy from her crib planning to come back for Liberty later. Mercy immediately grabbed my fancy necklace and yanked, giving me a taste of what was to come. My dangly earrings enticed her little hands, and I ducked and dodged through the diaper change and new outfit donning. Somewhere in there, I recognized the creak of Liberty's bed as she climbed down and the little sounds of exploration she created as she searched the kitchen for her breakfast. Knowing that all food was out of her reach, those sounds did not stir a feeling of alarm as it should have.

With Mercy now fully dressed, I put on my game face and went to find Liberty. The quietness of the house should have disturbed me, but it didn't. Therefore, I was unprepared when I finally came upon Liberty from behind. Her back looked innocent enough. Then she turned and revealed my favorite lipstick smeared around her mouth. The disfigured tube still clutched in her paw. "Yook, I pitty yike you, Mommy!"

What could I say? I already knew it would be one of those days.

I took her picture.

Then told her that she needed to ASK me before she touched my lipstick again. She really had done a remarkable job of keeping the makeup relatively close to the lines of her mouth. Part of me was proud of her (obviously above average) coordination; part of me wanted to laugh at the face displayed before me; the rest of me was becoming more and more late for work.

I scrubbed her mouth, fought her clothing onto her body, then strapped both girls into their car seats and grabbed a couple Tupperware containers to pour cereal into so that they could eat on the way into town. It wasn't until I had reached the highway that I realized I had not brought anything for them to drink.

I sighed. "Well, it's just one of those days."

Amazingly enough, we reached Sonja's house with a small amount of time leftover. If everything goes completely smoothly, I might be able to drop off the van at the shop and still get to work either right on time or only a couple minutes late! I consoled myself. I unbuckled Mercy and carried her over to Liberty's side of the van. I unbuckled Liberty and with my one free hand, reached to help her out of the van. "No!" she told me and ran to the very back seat. I stood at the door quickly considering my options and just at that moment, Mercy upchucked down the front of my dressed-to-impress outfit. Warm liquid oozed into my shoes and squished between my toes. I simply stared at the mess.

Now, why did it have to be one of THOSE days?

I finally arrived at work a little over ten minutes late. Now that I've had sufficient time to reflect, I have realized that I forgot to pack a spoon for my suppertime yogurt and diaper wipes for any messy diapers that occur at the pool. My mom called to say that a second house that my dad was scheduled to work on has caught fire so he is once again without a job, and Jeremy called with the news that we still are not signed up for health insurance and he needs to see a doctor. The realtor brought me yet another paper to sign and informed me that so far there has been no expressed interest in our home and we probably need to host an open house but that those do not usually generate buyers. She is not feeling optimistic.

You know what?

God says He will "satisfy us in the morning with [His] unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days." (Psalm 90:14)

I'm so glad it's one of those days! :-)

PS> You can read about the hilarious conclusion to this day here.

Four days until Daddy comes to visit!!!!

Liberty and I have drawn a calendar on the white board and every morning we cross off another day.

Oh! I can't wait!!!

Who really wants to see a clean house, anyway? When you are touring a home that you might purchase, wouldn't it be much better to see it when it's trashed so that you can get a realistic picture of what the house might look like after you have started living in it?

This is my new theory. If only I were brave enough to test it out!

A few mornings ago, while I happily forced my way through the muggy air towards work, I noticed an extension cord draped out of an open window. I followed the cord most of the way down the block. It connected to another cord, which in turn connected to a power sander being used on one of the walkway railings. The operator of said sander had positioned himself out of sight around the corner and was busily working away at the railing. The plug to said sander just happened to connect to the extension cord right at my eye level.

A thought POPPED into my brain. Unplug the cord and hide!

My footsteps faltered. A grin spread over my face. I looked around. There were no witnesses. I pictured the two of us - myself and the sander guy - laughing together at the practical joke.

Then I pictured the two of us marching across the street to the police station, his hand firmly gripping my elbow.

I forced myself to move on without molesting the cords.

A few more steps put me on a direct path with an oncoming pedestrian who - I totally promise you - looked EXACTLY like the cartoon character Maxine, the old lady with the bad attitude. She had to have been the inspiration.

"Morning, Maxine!" I called out cheerfully to her in my head.

She nodded back and smiled, "Good morning! Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Rats, maybe she wasn't the inspiration after all.

God has been very nice to me. He's sent friend after friend to check on me, encourage me and help me out. Long distance friends have emailed and called just to say they care. Close by friends have come over and physically helped, or given a big hug and let me cry in their arms. People all over the place keep stopping their lives to show me they care about me.

Since Daddy left, Liberty has had nightmares that keep her up and crying many hours out of the night. I'm not sure how to help her other than holding her and reminding her that she is loved and will never be abandoned. Daddy calls several times each day to talk with Liberty and Mercy and to reassure them that he loves them and that he will return as soon as he can. He calls again at bedtime to tell them night-night. I tell Liberty every night when I tuck her in that I am still in the house, and we will see each other again in the morning. When she cries out in the night full of terror, I snuggle her close and rock her back and forth, back and forth, murmuring quiet words of reassurance, until her sobs subside and her body relaxes and I can tuck her in again. Many times, I need to tuck Mercy in again, too.

Last night, Mercy unplugged the baby monitor (because the house was in showing order, and her crib had been pushed too close to the cord). This morning, I found out that Liberty had spent the entire night screaming for me, but I never came because I didn't hear her. Liberty is an emotional mess right now. Mercy is exhausted from listening to Liberty all night. My heart hurts because I failed my daughter.

And God prompted my friend Sue to send this email to me:


Morning Missy,

I’ve been praying for you ever since we visited on Sunday. Praise the Lord, that our God is with us and in us! We can count on His presence!

Ps 46:1 - "God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble!"

Isaiah 40:27b-31 - "Don’t you know that the Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth? He never grows faint or weary. No one can measure the depths of his understanding. He gives power to those who are tired and worn out, he offers strength to the weak. Even youths will become exhausted and young men will give up. But those who wait on the Lord will find new strength. They will fly high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint."

Rise above your stress, not be under it! See this time as a challenge and rise to the occasion! March on O my soul, be Strong!

In the Shadow of His Wings,
Sue


Can I repeat myself? God is very good to me!

I challenge you who are reading this blog: Who in your life needs a verse sent to them today? It is easy to think about encouraging someone. Take some time to actually do it. It may be necessary to their mental and spiritual health.

The house is in complete order (if you don't count the plastic tub full of Jeremy's high school treasures that was too heavy for me to slide into a closet.) Our neighbor Chuck mowed the yard again and weed-whacked. The basement is gorgeous thanks to my friend Kari. We rearranged furniture and decorated. We stored and stacked bins. Everything is in place. I drained the pool and stored it in the garage for the day. I even set the dining table with two place settings and a vase of flowers. The virtual tour photographer should arrive at the house around noon, and the tour for all of the realtors should also take place sometime today.

Then when I go home with the girls, we can mess it all up!

We'll get the pool out of storage and splash and laugh. We'll cook supper and throw our food at the walls. We'll leave wet clothes all over the floor. We'll strew books and toys around the house and in general make a mess.

We'll giggle and tickle and roll around on the carpeting and finally collapse into bed taking with us the peace that only comes from knowing that pictures have been taken. Therefore recording forever the one day that EVERYTHING was in it's place.

Our house is officially "on the market!" I just checked out our website, and I have to say that our realtor must be the best one because the music she picked for our virtual tour is SO much better than the other houses' music.

She is a keeper.

My friend Kari is abandoning her family to spend the night with me tonight! We are going to go grocery shopping together, cook fun creations, organize the basement and stage the house so that it is ready for it's virtual tour photographer. (Right now, only the front of our house is shown on the website.)

It's everything a sleepover should be.

Minus the barbies.

What? You never organized a basement at your sleepovers? I'll let you know what you've been missing out on after I do it.

Liberty slept through the night with no crying! This is the first time since Daddy left last week that she has slept, which in turn means that last night was the first night that I slept through the night since Daddy left.

Oh, sleep! Blissful, wonderful, sleep!

But I think I got bit by a fly while I slept. I noticed him lurking on my ceiling just as my eyes were closing. I thought about the flyswatter hanging on it's hook in the kitchen.

That's all I did. I thought about it.

This morning I woke up with two little red spots on my chest. I hope I poisoned him. Flies are not my happy friends.

Tonight before I sink into my mattress, I will sneak up on him. Armed with my fly swatter. "To the death!" I will shout.

Our neighbor, Chuck, mowed our grass yesterday afternoon and took some breaks to play with Liberty and Mercy. They loved it! He also left behind a present: he dumped our grass clippings into a pile at the edge of our property, and Liberty has claimed it as her own personal mountain. She runs through it, climbs on it, lounges in it, jumps on it. A whole new world of joy has presented itself to her, and she is intent on discovering every aspect.

She got into my sewing box on Saturday and created a "spider" out of my spools of thread. This black, blue, orange and cream spider has become her best friend, and she tells me often, "Sss! Spida seeping," or "Yook, Mommy, my bug is happy fins." (happy friends)

Mercy stood by herself on Saturday and TOOK a step! She balanced by herself for 0.7 seconds. [I counted ;-)] She's talking now, too. So far, I have heard her say, "I love you." "Uh-oh." "All done." and a few others that I can't remember now. I guarantee you, she's said a lot more than that, but it's all I can do to decipher those words. So the rest of what she's telling me just gets nodded at.

Jeremy left for Indiana yesterday morning, and I spent my first night alone with the girls. It was a strange feeling.

My family has also been living with us for the past week. Dad just about single-handedly put the house in selling condition: painting, staining, minor repairs. His skill and energy level amaze me! My sister Faith took care of Liberty and Mercy while Jeremy and I ran errands, met with realtors, conducted conference calls with the relocators (a new word) and focused on projects. She even cleaned and did laundry for us a few times! My brother Pete cooked for us every night and did the dishes. My brother Zach kept us all entertained, especially Liberty. But they all left when Jeremy did, and the house is suddenly empty and quiet.

My brain is making lists, and life will probably run relatively smoothly after I get my routine organized again. Since January, Jeremy has been running the household and keeping the girls’ on track. Now, those tasks are my responsibility again. “I’ve done this before,” I keep telling myself. “Remember? When Jeremy was on night shift? It is possible to do.”

Last night, after the girls went to bed, I stood in the kitchen and stared around me. Jeremy always took the garbage out for me. Now, I need to remember to do that. Jeremy always filled up my gas tank before I hit empty. Now, I need to remember to do that. Jeremy always locked the house up at nighttime. Now, I need to remember to do that.

The edges of panic seeped into my heart. What if I forget something important that he used to do? What is the worst that could happen, and how can I plan for that?

Peace! God jumped into my consciousness. I am still here. You are not alone.

My friend Annie tagged me for the following list.

Here are the instructions: This can be a quick one. Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes.

1. The Bible by God

2. The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom (My dad read this to me when I was little, and I've read it several times since. Among other things, it has helped remind me that God ALWAYS does what is best, and that no matter the circumstances -- man is not in control.)

3. In My Father's House by Corrie ten Boom (I read this for the first time last year, and it really brought home how influentially God can use a Godly parent to prepare a child for His future use.)

4. Little Women, Little Men & Jo's Boys by Louisa May Alcott (I read these books repeatedly when I was in grade school, and it showed me the concept that children should strive to be excellent in spirit and in actions, that I didn't need to wait to grow up before I began "working" on my inner man. It also watered a spirit of hospitality and fun open-housed-ness.)

5. Biography (maybe autobiography?) of Amy Carmichael by I'm not sure who (My dad read this to me when I was little, and what stuck out to me the most was the fact that God's way is better than our way.)

6. Biography of Gladys Aylwood by I'm not sure who (I heard this book read in chapters over the radio when I was a kid. I was impressed with Gladys' sense of adventure and love for "her" kids, and by the fact that she just did it, instead of waiting for others to say it was okay.)

7. Biography of Hudson Taylor by who knows (I was required to read this for a book report one year for a church club that I was in. What I took away from it was the love that Hudson had for the Chinese. He didn't try to transform them into his acceptable culture. Instead, he blended into their culture and told them THEY were valuable to God.)

8. God at the Controls by Jean Dye Johnson (My dad read this book to me when I was in grade school, and I've read it to myself more times than I can remember since then. What God always teaches me is the importance of WAITING and SPRINGING INTO ACTION. Both things I struggle with.)

9. Through Gates of Splendor by Elisabeth Elliot (I was required to read this in eighth grade as part of my literature class, and I fell in love with it. The quote by Jim Elliot --possibly mangled by me-- "He is no fool, who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose," has replayed itself in my brain ever since.

10. The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis (I still have not read the entire series. In fact, I think I've only read the first three or four books, but every time I pick one of them up, I am amazed again at the object lessons springing to life all around me. God is huge, and somehow, aspects of Who He is and how He has designed this life to work are woven so understandably into these stories by C. S. Lewis. I get blown away.)

11. Seeking The Secret Place by Lyle Dorsett (This is a biography of C. S. Lewis that I picked up at a garage sale [or maybe from the free books at the school library?], and what has impressed me the most about this book is the demonstration of the power of God in a person's life. Mr. Lewis was not someone who walked with God early in his life, or even someone who knew much about God. I love watching the transformation slowly unfold that changed him from what he was into what he became. "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" Second Corinthians 5:17)

12. Biography of George Mueller by Faith Coxe Bailey (This is another book that Dad read to me when I was little, and what stuck with me is the fact that God can be trusted even in situations that look impossible to us.)

13. Any Sherlock Holmes mystery by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Oh, how I loved these books. When I was in high school, I devoured every bit of them. Then I pretended I was on a case. Constantly. Yeah, I needed a muzzle for my imagination. Observation is the part of these books that stuck with me. Observation which in turn feeds my imagination. People-watching. Stalker? I'll stop there, but know that these books which started this habit has greatly enriched my life, or at least the entertainment that I get out of life.)

14. The Mark of the Lion series by Francine Rivers (I read this trilogy for the first time when I was a sophomore in college, and I haven't been the same since. The one thing that always comes back to me is the importance of following God even if you are nothing. God uses our small decisions to influence others for Him. It's humbling and sobering. Also, God showed me how important it is to LOVE, whole-heartedly, unselfishly whomever happens to be around us.)

15. The Secret of the Rose series by Michael Phillips (I have only read this series one time. I discovered it on the sixth floor of the library the summer of my sophomore year in college, and I would love to read it again, or own it [ahem, Jeremy]. While I was reading, God was tugging on my heart over and over about different things. The author puts various tidbits and object lessons throughout the story, and the truths are not always about the same thing. At one point, God had so convicted me that I had to put the story book down and get on my knees before Him. I took two things away from reading that series. The first is the fact that God should not be separated from my daily life, my entertainment. The second is the conviction that any books that I ever write need to be woven with Truth.)

I turned 30 on Sunday, and Jeremy found the perfect card.

On the front it says "THIRTY YEARS HAPPY!" When you open it, Tim McGraw sings, "I think I'll take a moment to celebrate my age..."

But the best part is the note that Jeremy wrote: "Happy Birthday! I look forward to spending the next 30 years with you by my side. Just imagine the adventures we're going to have!"

Oooh! I can't wait! :-)

I just read this post by Fiddledeedee, and it brought back a wonderful memory. In fact, I commented on her post, and then decided to paste my comment here as a post of it's own. (It certainly was long enough!)

I very distinctly remember the moment about 26 years ago when I learned to read.

I was in kindergarten, home-schooled, and I do not know what curriculum my parents were using then. I had a small paperback book with rows of pictures. Under the pictures were words like hat, wet, bug, etc. I “read” that book for ages and I always got everything correct except for the word “wet.”

(In reality, I was not reading, I was simply looking at the pictures and saying what they were. The “wet” picture was water pouring from a bathtub faucet so I always guessed “water” or “faucet” or “pipe” and I was so frustrated that I wasn’t getting it right.

One day, I sat snuggled against my dad’s side, tucked under his arm while he held the book. I did my usual guessing, and when I came to “wet” I hesitated. I knew it wasn’t water, but I couldn’t remember what it was. My dad patiently used his index finger to reveal the letters one at a time to me while I sounded them out. We sounded them over and over and over and over together. I was saying the word correctly, but not comprehending that it was a word.

Suddenly, it clicked!

“WET!” I yelled out. “WET! IT’S WET, DADDY!” And I realized what reading was. I snatched the book from his hands and turned back to the first page to READ FOR REAL all of the words.

A whole new world opened, and I don’t think I’ve been without a book in my hands since.

Well, except for maybe right now when I need both hands to type.

I consider myself to be a laid back, easy-going, que sera sera sort of person. I enjoy adventure and the unknown. I love surprises; I am very flexible. I enjoy life when someone else has the worries and hassles of being in charge, and I can just come along and look at the pretty scenery. (And maybe complain once in a while, if I find a butterfly that the existing schedule will not allow me to follow.)

This is why Jeremy and I work so well together. He provides the plan, and I provide the fun! Well, he's pretty good at the fun, too, I suppose.

But, if I have to be the responsible one and come up with a plan, my hidden control freak emerges. My plan must be thought out and written down ahead of time. Every event is timed and recorded right down to the minutes. For example: If I drove 72 miles per hour, it used to take me seventeen minutes to get from a parked position in our driveway to a parked position outside of Kimmie's school. Assuming it should take her about two or three minutes to walk from our car and get into a sitting position at her school desk, I knew exactly what time I needed to get up in the morning, taking into consideration that the two little girls usually took approximately twenty-three minutes on a good day to get out of bed, diapers changed, clothes on, hairs brushed and food shoved into their hands. This was all written down in my day planner by the minutes.

You think I am crazy?

You should see the schedule that I wrote in my day planner after Mercy was born. I could be classified as mental.

All of that to say, I am facing a great opportunity for my freakishness to show (no comments from the peanut gallery, please). We have a house that needs to sell. A replacement needs to be found for me at work. A new place to live in Indiana needs to be found. All of these items need to coincide fairly nicely with each other, or our family is going to suffer some type of inconvenience.

So last week, I began planning. I pulled out my day planner, and I wrote, SELL HOUSE. Only, I couldn't figure out which date to put that on. I don't know when someone will want to buy the house. So I decided I would come back to that. HIRE REPLACEMENT was next. Um, but, I don't want to hire a replacement until I am ready to move, and I won't be ready to move until I have something to move into, and I won't be able to afford something to move into until this house sells, and I can't sell this house until I have somewhere else to go...

The rain beats down while I type. The pounding sound invigorates my soul. Action! Movement! Life!

God gave Jeremy a job last week. YAY!!! I've stopped writing here because the two weeks leading up to Kimmie's graduation and the craziness surrounding it took all of my brain-power. Afterwards, we were in the process of working out details regarding Jeremy's new job, and I didn't want to let anything slip prematurely.

In the immortal words of Inigo Montoya, "Let me 'splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up."

1. Kimmie graduated from high school. Family came. It was mucho fun-o. Pictures coming soon.

2. Kimmie moved into her own apartment. A nice place with large windows and a great view of big trees.

3. My sister Charity moved out of our house and in with some friends. She is still slowly removing belongings from our house.

4. Jeremy had three interviews in one week. He spent one night during that entire week at home, and I wondered if another interview would force him to miss the graduation festivities. Thankfully, it did not.

5. We accepted a job offer. Jeremy will now officially be using his college degree, and we are moving to Indiana.

6. I left my lunch box in my car (parked a block and a half away). Did I mention it is pouring down rain?

7. I'm starving.