*sigh*

"While they [us] are praying, he gives them sweet views of his glorious grace, purity, sufficiency, and sovereignty, and enables them, with great quietness, to rest in him, to leave themselves and their prayers with him, submitting to his will and trusting in his grace and faithfulness."

Jonathan Edwards on Prayer

We're praying for you

Ronda Satterfield gave me this idea. For a week, we pray for each family that sent us a Christmas card. We'll change out the card each week, and this is in our dining room/homeschool room where we see it a million times a day. At the beginning of school today, during our prayer, Laney prayed for Mrs. Shannon. She got it the concept, and I was so proud of her!

So, if you sent us a Christmas card, we're gonna be praying for you.

(and if you didn't, we'll praying for you too!!)

Hmmm

by Rev. Stacey Rector...

"Our God is not the one who sits high upon a throne in heaven ruling over the world in abstentia but instead bends down low to embrace us where we are. Our God is not one who seeks to be protected from our pain but seeks to be present within it. Our God is the One whose promise to us is that there is no fire so hot, no darkness so deep, no pit so low, no cross so painful that God will not move heaven and earth to share with us."

I totally stole this from one of my favorite blogs. It made my heart sing.

I got you Babe

We have two new additions to the family, as of this morning.

Meet Sonny and Cher.

They aren't super fancy, but they are pretty great. Especially for a big nerd like myself who stays at home all the time, and does tons of laundry, thanks to the 4 people I love most in the world.

The washer is huge. When it got here, Laney, Jude and I all started throwing the laundry in that was in the laundry room. We threw it all in, and there was still more room. So I went upstairs and got MORE laundry. Good, huh?

The dryer is great too, but I still don't understand why we can put a man on the moon and we can't make a dryer that dries clothes as quickly as the washer washes them.

I don't dry many things, preferring to let them hang dry, so that's not a huge issue. It just bugs me.

The washer has things that are going to be great for washing diapers, like a 2nd rinse option and an extended spin cycle. Very cool.

Zane liked the dryer a lot. Probably trying to decide what to throw in there first.

Cher is the washer, and Sonny is the dryer, by the way. You pay so much money for this stuff, and you use them every day. Why not give them names?

Allen said I had to sing, "I got you, Babe..." now when I do laundry. That's cool. I can do that.

But, like Jamie said, you spend all this money for these nice washers and dryers, and they still don't haul the clothes downstairs, separate them, put them into the wash, wrangle them into the dryer, fold the clothes and then put them away. Hmmm...

I guess it's better than rubbing your clothes on a rock in a stream. That's homeschooling for ya. Gives you a new perspective on just about everything!!!

Praise

It's no secret that David Crowder is a favorite of mine. I spent some time in praise this morning, and a few things came to me.

So many sad things have happened lately, and this song reminded me of the comfort that we have, but also the honest feelings of "how much longer, Lord?"

Be Lifted or Hope Rising

How long till You hear us?
Till You come back, we ain't giving up.
How long till You heal us?
Till You come back, we ain't giving up.

Love rise up. Hope rise up
How long till You free us?
Till You come back, we ain't giving up.
How long till You mend us?
Till You come back, we ain't giving up.

Your strength will come like something lifted up.

Lift up you head (love is rising)
Lift up your head (hope is rising)
Lift up your head (be lifted)
Be lifted, be lifted.
Lift up you head!

A song that just ushers me straight to him is "You are My Joy."

And He set me on fire, and I am burning alive.
With His breath in my lungs I am coming undone.
And he set me on fire and I am burning alive.
With his breath in my lungs I am coming undone.
And I cannot hold it in
Remain composed.

Love's taken over me
So I propose the letting myself go.
I am letting myself go.

You are my joy.
You are my joy.
You are my joy.
You are my joy.

And He set me on fire, and I am burning alive.
With His breath in my lungs I am coming undone.
And He set me on fire, and I am burning alive.
With His breath in my lungs I am coming undone.
And I cannot hold it in and remain composed.
Love's taken over me and so I propose the letting myself go.
I am letting myself go.

You are my joy.
You are my joy.
You are my joy.
You are my joy.

I need to catch my breath, I need to.
I need to catch my breath, give me a moment now.

You are my joy.
You are my joy.
You are my joy.
You are my joy.

I just felt the need to spend some time in praise, and less than 30 minutes later, I needed to really draw from the depths of my soul the Lord's presence and strength. I know so much that God led me to Him in order to keep me in a place of being firmly rooted in Him.

You know?

How He takes care of you primitively when you aren't even aware of it?? Man, that just gets me.

We are all living such hard, tough lives, but God is so willing to show me strength and passion and abilities that I'm not even aware I have. I am just so in love with Him right now. I mean really.

It's not black and white

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."Martin Luther King, Jr.

I grew up never thinking much about race. I didn't have to. I lived in a very homogeneous community. We had only a very few kids in school of color. I never had any negative thoughts about race, but few thoughts on the subject all together.

I stayed that way until I got to the University of Alabama in January of 1992.

I didn't have a roommate planned, and was going to live in a dorm. After a week of panicking because I didn't have a roommate (You had to pay for a single room if you didn't have a roommate. I didn't have the money. Talk about stress.) I got a sweet little knock on my door one morning. I opened it to find a most beautiful, petite little African American girl. She looked at me, so shyly, and said, "Do you need a roommate?"

I laughed and almost tackled her. I yelled, "YES!!!!" and she moved her stuff right in. Whew, extreme disaster adverted.

So I started letting everyone back home know I had finally gotten a roommate, and when I told them she was black, it was like, "......... oh." It wasn't the first thing I told them. Just things that came out in conversation. But the reactions were all the same.

Huh? Oh well. I was too tired, stressed and overwhelmed to give it much thought. She was sweet, and pretty quiet. The room we shared was, I believe, about 8 feet by 20 feet. Tiny.

Slowly, because I am slow, I noticed that was the only white girl on my whole hall. Hmm. Had that been the only change in my life, it would have been significant, but I had just been transported away from home for the first time in my life, leaving family, friends and a boyfriend in a new city with no car, no job, no money and a huge class load. This is before email, and cell phones, so although I was only an hour and a half away from home, it felt like worlds away.

Anyway, Stephanie soon began to gently tell me that the girls on the hall didn't really like me. "Oh. Really? Why?" I had no idea.

"Well, it's because you're white."

"Because I'm what?"

"Not black."

"Oh. Huh."

Especially Kim, who was our next door neighbor. She was from Mississippi, and her brother had been beaten nearly to death by a group of white guys. Try undoing those preconceived ideas. Wow.

So, I was introduced to racism. I guess I was too naive, or oblivious, to have thought about it before then.

I remember sitting on my bed, reading the student newspaper, and there, in black and white, in the editorial section, were the words "sand n_____g" in reference to an Egyptian student. I just wanted to cry. Or throw up. What in the world?

Bits and pieces of the world started clicking into focus in a way I had never seen them before. I saw the way Kim looked at me. The way she avoided me. Stephanie pointed out how people looked at her and me as we went places together. I started to notice it.

Eventually Stephanie told me how she had also felt nervous having a white roommate. Her friends and family had worried about it. Her friends would call and see how it was going, living with me.

She told me about the stereotypes about white people. How we smelled like dogs when we got wet. (WHAT???) She said the girls on the hall were warming up to me, but they just weren't totally ready to be friends. It was all hard.

This was the year that Geraldo got hit in the nose with the chair by the skinhead. We were actually watching that when it happened. I was embarrassed by all that. Sorrowful.

I was learning what it was like to be judged by your skin color, and prejudged without ever uttering a word, or doing a thing.

I think of that when I lock my door when seeing a certain type of young man. Or other little things I do that judge.

Finally, one night, Stephanie and I were watching the Miss USA pageant on television. A couple of the girls came by the room, and started watching a bit. Steph and I were laughing and giggling and joking. The other girls joined in, little bit by little bit. It was the first time I felt like I fit in, just a bit. As they were leaving, one said, "You're okay, for a white girl." I took it as a compliment.

Winter finally turned into spring, and one warm evening, we were studying with the window open. I heard a noise-a man's voice, coming over what sounded like a loud speaker outside the window. Stephanie grinned and motioned me over. Windows opened all over our dorm, and in the dorm across the street. A guy had pulled his car up in front of our dorm, and turned the volume on his stereo way up. I looked at Stephanie and asked, "Who is that?"

With a smile, she said, "That's Martin Luther King, Jr."

We all sat in the windows, listening to his words. It was silent in those windows, a miracle in itself. We listened to the "I Have a Dream Speech" given on August 28, 1963, in Washington D.C. Everything froze in time, as I listened to his words. I had spent a scant 3 months in a world far from the one I grew up in. This man, and his people, had lived it for generations.

"I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character."

I felt the weight of my ignorance of this vast challenge to the human race. I was ashamed of how little I knew, first hand, of the world I lived in.

"I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together."

I wanted to make it all right. I didn't want to live in a world where racism existed. I suddenly felt like I saw it all, in a very different light.

All because of a young man and his car stereo.

We listened to the whole speech, and I just sat there, still.

That was a pivotal day for me. I'm not at all equating one small semester with generations of persecution. It was just a wake up call for me.

I recall times when I stared discrimination in the face since my days at Alabama, and it felt different. I think God let me live those days as a way to soften my heart. To give me perspective. To allow me to know what it's like to be judged based on something you have no control over.

So today, as I do on this day each year, and other days as well, I check my heart. Is it pure towards all the races that our God created? Will I be able to look Him in the face one day, and say with all honesty, with a pure heart, that I treated all His creation equally? Can I thank Him honestly for creating us with beautiful diversity?

I struggle with how to raise my children with diversity. I struggle with how to be diverse myself. And with my fatigue of the day settling in, I just want to snuggle down under the covers and tell myself that it's all okay.

But it's not. There are things about our world that are not okay. Not Biblical. Not right. And I feel as a child of the God that created all living things, I have a responsibility to try to make something right.

And hopefully it won't cost me my life, like it did Martin Luther King, Jr.

I lost track of Stephanie over the years. I wish I could thank her for teaching me a most valuable lesson. How do you thank someone for that, really? I thank God, though.

I think I'm being infiltrated

After a group of us girls, and two guys, one being my husband, all ended up at the same place last Saturday morning, and we got to laughing at how most of us girls looked. Rolled out of bed, baseball cap on, ponytails, husband's giant shirts on, and no makeup.

That's how I look everyday. I just don't have much time to fancy up each morning. Okay, I'll be honest. Whether or not I get a shower is not totally up to me, so makeup and hair do's is the least of my worries. Stinking so much that I can't go to Publix is more like it.

I have two sweet friends, who shall remain nameless, who shower, dress in real clothes, and do a complete hair and makeup everyday. We've joked about it a little over the years, and that was the subject of my group of friends joking the other morning. That they care and I don't, is what it boils down to!!!! And we all laughed about that.

So on the way home, I asked Allen, again, if he cared that I didn't gussy up more often. He laughed, and said, "Nope."

That's man speak for, "We've talked about this numerous times, and every time you've asked me, my answer has been this, and the same. I don't care if you dress up or not. You're just fine, rather beautiful in my manly opinion, with or with out hair and make up. If you want to get dressed up - fine. If you don't want to, that's fine too. I do notice when you get dressed up, and I tell you how nice you look. I also tell you that you're cute even when you're not dressed up. So really, I'll patiently tell you again that it really doesn't matter to me what you decided to do as long as it makes you happy. Okay, sweetie??"

Or "Nope." They mean the same thing.

BUT, the last two mornings, knowing I wasn't going to set foot in the van to go anyway, I showered, dried my hair WITH PRODUCT, put on jeans instead of yoga pants, and makeup. Well, no foundation or eyeliner, but everything else.

Are they rubbing off on me? Am I succumbing to peer pressure? Was it a dear friends "your hair looks so different in the snow pictures. What's different?" Um, I brushed it? Do I normally look THAT bad????

Oh, I'm so poking fun at myself. I really don't care at all. It's nice to put makeup if I have time, but if I don't, that's okay. I haven't even colored the gray hairs that are ALL over my head. Treading lightly there. It may get covered up this week.

So whether you make up every day or not, I think that the lesson that Laney and I learned this week is most precious. 1 Samuel 16:7 - But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." I love that verse.

Oh, and this is completely off topic, or not, and totally random and silly. But the fact that I have brown eyes came up in conversation this week in a conversation with some friends. I, in fact, have hazel eyes. Or according to the harried DMV employee who was typing in my information when I was 16 years old-they are green. (Although I will say my license says I weigh 113 pounds, and that is just about as true...) I do love my eyes, only because my grandmother has the same eyes, and she just to love that we matched. We laugh and giggle about it when I was Laney's age. Allen's eyes are similar, as are the kids' eyes. So not that it matters, but if you are going to win $1,000,000 by knowing what color my eyes are, it's "hazel." :)

There was a real blizzard once

In March, 1993, we had a real blizzard. Ask anyone who has lived in Birmingham or the surrounding area for more than 15 years, and they will tell you their story of the Blizzard of '93. Birmingham received between 12 and 16 inches of snow, and some areas up to 24 inches. I think we were the 24 inches.

I was living with my dad and stepmom in Pinson. We were snowed in for days with no power. The neighborhood had a blast playing in the snow. It was crazy-a true snowstorm, complete with lightening and thunder.

They say it will never happen again. That's probably a good thing, I guess, but it sure was fun. And pretty.

SNOW!!!!!!

Oh finally, after long last.

It's been 6 years since it snowed. Wow!

The kids are so excited.

They weren't too disappointed this morning, since I hadn't really told them it was going to snow. As the day went along, we got more and more excited!!!

We had huge fun.

The fire is roaring, and the kids are sitting in front of it, playing Monopoly.

What a great day!!!!!

Here are the pictures!!!!

Snow Pictures

Babies in Warm Jammies

We have a silly joke in our house that started when Laney was a baby. Something about her in those fuzzy footie pajamas just sent Allen over the edge. He'd chase her aound the house, hugging her, loving on her, kissing on her, until she would just scream!!! Something about babies in warm jammies makes him so happy. We still laugh about it. As soon as it gets cold, we start laughing about babies in warm jammies. He now chases the 3 of them around. They squeal in delight, and they make a huge pile in the floor, all loving on each other. Such silly, silly fun.

As you can tell, someone wasn't in the mood for a photo shoot. Warm jammies or not.

Things went down hill fast, and never did improve.

As for some random photos...

look at that face. Do *you* believe that it doesn't sleep?????

Oh, this is a brave move on my part. This is how I look most days, though. Especially after baking all day. I made pumpkin bread, http://thepioneerwomancooks.com/2007/06/the_best_chocol.html this sheet cake, and lasagna. Zane and I sat, and watched the lasagna cook. It was big fun. We'd smash our faces on the glass on the stove, and make funny noises. Too much fun.

Here's hoping for snow tomorrow. Big, big fun... :)

Search for a Church Part 2

There wasn't much of a search yesterday. :( Allen was playing at a church in Chelsea, and I knew I was on my on.... again. I didn't feel great by Saturday afternoon, but by Sunday, I felt horrible.

No worries. We all lay around, and watched a local church on television. Laney and I knew most of the worship songs, and that was neat. They sang some old hymns, too, and I love that.

The pastor was interesting. The title of the sermon was "Anxiety" and I've already been able to put it to use. (My sweet friend whose husband is a higher up at the Pelham police department called at 9:15 last night to tell us that two streets over, there was a home invasion where the perpetrator kicked in the door of the home, where the people where at home-awake. It was before 9 o'clock. This same person robbed someone outside of their home in Crosscreek. I couldn't answer the phone because of this blasted cough, so I checked the message at 4:30 this morning. See previous post.)

So, at 4:30 this morning, I was able to run the sermon in my head again. Things are much scarier at 4:30 in the morning, and I was tempted to panic. And be anxious. According to this pastor, "anxiety" is when we unnecessarily stress about things we can't control. "Concern" is where we are proactive in things we can do about a situation that warrants our actions. I'm assuming prayer and praise is the only cure for anxiety. Even on the "Today" show a couple of years ago, they had a guy on there saying that it's physiologically impossible to feel worry or stress while you're being thankful. I translate that spiritually into prayer and praise. It works. Can't worry and sing "I love you Lord" at the same time...

God and I brainstormed. We fixed our alarm today, which we will start using again, and some other little things we can do that I won't bore you with. What it boils down to is that I refuse to live in fear.

"God has not given me a spirit of fear...." and I stand by that. I love too, that he took a sermon, that was taped in July, that I watched at home, on death's doorstep with a blasted fever :) and made it relevant. Quick. He's so cool.

So I did see and hear things I didn't like about this pastor. God and I have been talking about whether this is a good thing or not. Making checklists, you know. This church is not one we even could join, so it's basically irrelevant, but things he did went on my list anyway!!! lol...I'm being open and flexible about this whole thing. Really trying hard. I'm so glad I'm not in charge.

Zaney Brainy

*author's note. My blog spaces itself. It drives me crazy, and I hate it. I like things in order, but it doesn't cooperate. I am so sorry. I'm sure I am the only one who cares, but it bugs the crap out of me!! Oh well... Anyway...

The last 17 months have been hard. I ain't gonna lie.

He started off well enough. He slept for 3 or 4 hours at a time at night, which neither of my others did. He was a sweet, happy baby.

Then, on Thanksgiving Day, 2006, things changed. Allen had him downstairs while I desperately folded laundry before going to my aunt's house for lunch. Allen came upstairs, and said, "I think he want to eat. He's fussy."

So I took him, and tried to feed him. He just squirmed and then snuggled down in my arms. I tried to hand him back to Allen, and he screamed. There it began.

He still slept okay, nursing at 10:30 and then at about 4 am. I was okay with that. People can function on that kind of sleep. But.....

I had to hold him ALL THE TIME during the day, though. He would scream, forever, if I didn't. There was no end to the screaming. God has never allowed us to let any of our kids cry for any length of time, if we could help it, and I knew that wasn't going to change. I'm not one to listen to screaming anyway, so I bought several baby carriers. One for the pool, some for the house, one for the car. Hayes gave me my favorite one. A mei tai with skulls on one side, and a "church" side with pretty swirls on it. I wore it everywhere. It saved my life, especially with having two other kids.

And I wore him everywhere. Vacuuming, cooking, washing clothes, you name it. I lost some weight too, wearing that chunk everywhere. But it wore me out. And there were times when I couldn't hold him. Like in the shower. I resorted to taking showers at strange times-when Allen came home late at night, or early before he left. Or I just went without one. And eating while holding him was hard. Or him screaming at me while we were trying to get out the door to go somewhere.

It took me to the brink several times, but God put one foot in front of the other continuously. He was my rock and my fortress. There is just nothing like knowing that God is the one thing between you and insanity.

It got a tiny bit easier when he could crawl. At least he could come and fine me when he wasn't in his carrier. Praise the carrier. What would I have done without them? Or amazing friends who introduced me to them, taught me about them and encouraged me while I was wearing them.

Then one night last spring, as I was cooking dinner, he started pushing on my back. He was in the back carrier, and that meant he wanted out. I just wanted to cry, because if he wasn't happy back there, it was going to be a scream fest.

So I got him out, tried to nurse him, and he just wiggled squirmed. I put in down in frustration and buried my face in my hands. I just wanted to sob. I looked up, and he was sitting, playing with some toys on the floor. I just stared at him. His feet hadn't touched the ground many days, where he didn't just howl. I sat there for a minute, and then I stood up. He just played. I started inching toward the door. Nothing. I went into the kitchen, and he was fine. I waited for a second, and then quietly started cooking dinner. He was happy. Strangely. as quickly as it started, it ended. I did a few very light victory laps around the downstairs!

And then he quit sleeping. Talk about can't win for losing.

You know, it just seems like too much sometimes. Sleep is just something I can't do without. Poor Zane. I'm sure there's some reason that he didn't sleep. We just never could figure out what it was. I tried to alter his diet. I didn't drink caffeine. I fiddled with his naps. Nothing worked. He'd wake to nurse ever hour or two, then wake totally up for 2 hours. Every time. @ hours. Strange. I'd go downstairs and rock. And watched movies. I've watched some good ones in the middle of the night, though. I'd love to say that I spent all those wakeful nights in prayer, but I tried. I can't form a thought when I'm that tired. But, thanks to HBO, I've watched some older and pretty decent movies. Legends of the Fall, Money Pit, Lethal Weapon (!), 28 Days (the Sandra Bullock one. Not that weird scary 28 Days Later one.), A Time to Kill, When Harry Met Sally, Star Wars, Out of Africa and some I can't remember.

I've made bank errors, forgot important events, put strange things into the refrigerator, looked for recipes in the phone book, and totally turned into red neck mama late in the afternoon when I feel like I just can't go any further.

But again, God just took care of me. I'd yell at him in the middle in the night, out of frustration, in my spirit. I knew He could fix all of this, but just didn't. I'd ask forgiveness in the morning, when the light of day cleared my heart and soul. It was still hard though, and I just wanted my son to sleep.

Things got easier when Zane started talking, and interacting with all of us. I don't know why. I guess because I saw him as a real person, instead of a creature whose one purpose in life was to destroy his mother. He started talking. He has several words, as of about a month ago.

Mama

Dada

Lala

Juju

Baba (Paci)

Baba (bye bye)

Uh oh (When he drops something)

ooh ba (foot ball-yep, he's Allen's son)

Ba (ball)

Booboo (you know)

Mama(Mimi)

Eh momo (Elmo)

and my favorite. I'll say, "where's your baba?" And we go all around the downstairs, looking for his paci. When he finds it, we say, "There it is!!!" His is much more like, "er e sssss" but he gets the inflection just right.

He's so loving too. He hugs and kisses us all. Jude was crying in the bath one night, and Zane hugged him 10 times.

He loves to go outside with Laney and Jude. He'll play with them, for at least an hour. I look out on them, of course, and they love it.

He's really funny too. He spilled some water on the floor the other morning, and he went to the kitchen, got out a towel from under the sink, came back and tried to clean up the water, and went and put the towel back. Allen and I were amazed.

I was on the sofa yesterday, wiped out from this cough, and he went upstairs, climbed on my bed, got my Tony Stewart bear from Build A Bear and brought it downstairs to me. Plopped it down on my chest.

When you undress him for bathtime, he picks up all of his clothes and puts them in the dirty clothes hamper.

The funniest thing was last week. The kids had gone out one morning, and because it had rained the night before, their shoes were covered in wet grass. I helped them out of their shoes at the door, and let them come in barefoot. I left the shoes at the door for when they had dried. Laney and I were doing school, with the back door open, since it was such a nice, warm day. We looked up, and Laney said, "What is he doing???"

He was beating the shoes on the ground to get the dried grass off. My camera was sitting on the table where we were doing school, so I picked it up and started snapping pictures. We had no idea what he was doing.

He beat the shoes on the ground until he got almost all the grass off. (And got it on himself!!!!)

Then he took each shoe into the house, and put them in the shoe basket.

We laughed and laughed. I've never had a 17 month old that did that sort of thing!!!

He points Allen key remote at the car, he takes Allen the television remote whenever he finds it on the floor.

He found a new package of pacifiers that I had just bought, and he shouted with such glee, "BA BA'S!!!!!" Oh my.

And oddly enough, he has just warmed my heart. Not that I ever didn't love him. At all. In fact, I think you have a special place in your heart for the super hard babies. It's been just me and him during all the hard times. Allen has so wanted to help, but I just didn't want him to miss his sleep. Luckily he stays up late, so when Zane would wake before midnight, he would rock him back to sleep. And you have no idea how many mornings Allen has gotten up with everyone and let me get a bit of sleep in the morning. Because yes, even when you're up all night, you still must wake at 6:30 or 7. So Zane thinks.

He's actually doing better this week. He's still waking every 2 hours or so, but I can tell he's really trying to get himself back to sleep. And I haven't had to come downstairs in several nights. I wonder what great movies I'm missing? And the funny thing is, when he doesn't sleep through a standard waking time, I still wake up. And can't get back to sleep. It's like my body adjusted to this crazy schedule. Wow.

This is all for me. I don't want to forget how hard all this way. You have a way for forgetting these things, you know. I don't want to forget all the Lord as done for me. I don't EVER want to take for granted sleeping for 8 hours at a time. When that happens!

Whatever life hands me, God will sustain me. Whether it be 3 days, 3 months or 3 years. I love my son, who is an amazing gift from God. I wanted him so badly, and at times didn't think I'd get him. We love each other in super special way. I'll always know that he showed me things about myself that I never knew. All my kids have. I'm honestly glad God doesn't make my life easy. I'd never know about His power

Another WOO HOO for breastfeeding

and for the whole "weird " attachment parenting way of living in general...

Breast Is Best for Reducing Stress

By Karen PallaritoHealthDay ReporterSunday, January 6, 2008; 12:00 AM

SUNDAY, Jan. 6 (HealthDay News) -- Breast-feeding is considered a great way for a mother to form a close bond with her infant. And now there's evidence to suggest it may also help kids be more resilient to stress.

Researchers in Sweden and the United Kingdom examined data on almost 9,000 children born in Great Britain in 1970. Relevant information was collected at birth and again at ages 5 and 10 from parents, teachers, health-care workers and midwives.

Teachers were asked to rate the kids' anxiety levels on a zero-to-50 scale at age 10. And parents were asked about major life events -- including divorce or separation -- that occurred when their children were between 5 and 10 years old.

Not surprisingly, children whose parents had divorced or separated were more likely to have high anxiety. But what the researchers found striking was the difference in stress levels between breast-fed and bottle-fed kids. Breast-fed children were significantly less anxious than kids who hadn't nursed at their mother's breast.

Lead author Scott Montgomery, an associate professor at the Karolinska Institutet in Stockholm, said the research team was interested in examining whether there are any specific early-life exposures that make children better able to cope with stress later in life. The study attempted to replicate animal studies that showed close physical contact between a mother and her offspring may have a positive impact on the development of the offspring's stress response, he said.

"The best marker of maternal physical contact in the first month of life that we could find among the research information at our disposal was breast-feeding," Montgomery said.

The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends that healthy women exclusively breast-feed their infants for at least the first six months of life and continue breast-feeding "for at least the first year of life and beyond for as long as mutually desired by mother and child."

Breast-feeding offers many health and development benefits for baby, says the National Institute of Child Health & Human Development. Kids get the right balance of nutrients to support optimal growth, fatty acids to promote brain development and protection against many childhood illnesses. And there are important emotional and physical benefits for moms as well.
"There is no question that breast-feeding is better for the health of mothers and children," said Nicole Else-Quest, an assistant professor of psychology at Villanova University in Pennsylvania, "but it is less clear how breast-feeding affects the mother-child relationship." Breast-feeding may help to establish an early bond, she added, but "it is only one of many ways to do so."

As for why there might be differences in stress between breast-fed and bottle-fed kids, Else-Quest said it is difficult to speculate "given that many factors influence the decisions to breast-feed in the first place."

The research team considered factors that might affect a child's reaction to stress and ability to cope, such as maternal depression, parental education levels, social class, and smoking habits. Even after accounting for those factors, breast-fed children were less anxious than their peers. In addition, bottle-fed children whose parents divorced were more anxious than breast-fed kids.
Yet the study findings don't prove that breast-feeding itself reduces anxiety. It may be a mark of close, early physical contact, the researchers noted.

"A child without such regular contact may perceive greater danger reacting to stress -- indicating a potentially dangerous situation -- with a more reactive and less well-controlled stress response," Montgomery said.

It's also possible, he added, that mothers who breast-fed simply have a better relationship with their child.

"The parent-child relationship influences the child's health and development in many ways," Montgomery said. "A good relationship with parents is important, and this relationship begins in infancy, so good early contact with the child is important."

The study findings were published in the journalArchives of Disease in Childhood."

Call me crazy...

but I am seriously in prayer for Britany Spears and her family today.

She is real person, but more importantly, she has real children.

I cannot stop praying for her and those babies.

Will you join me so I won't feel so crazy????

Comfort food

I just made these muffins:

http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Cornbread-Muffins-I/Detail.aspx

to go with our chicken and dumplings stew.

It's cold, and this warm comfort food just makes me want to melt.

And it's SO not Zone friendly. But it's so good, I don't even care!!!

And you call yourself a scrapbooker?

We had such a great New Year's Eve. Allen was off for FOUR WHOLE DAYS!! We were all doing the "Daddy's Home" happy dance. Saturday we went out, ran errands and ate lunch together. After such a long time in the house, it was such fun to get OUT! We had a blast together. We each got to go to our favorite stores. The kids used their Toys R Us gift cards, Allen went to the guitar store, just to browse, and I got to go to Target! Yee hoo!! We topped it off with yummy coffee from Starbucks, and it was a perfect day.

Sunday, after church, we got to go eat with friends, which never happens. That was such a sweet, fun time. We are so blessed with our friends. When we got home, Allen had the spectacular pleasure of watching Alabama and the Steelers play back to back. That was a special treat for him, after his crazy December and his crazy Christmas.

Monday we got all of our Christmas decorations down, which was a blessing, because then we knew we could just relax on New Year's Day. My mom surprised us with a baby sitting offer, so we went to eat at our new Olive Garden. We then took a meal out to some of Allen's friends who just had a baby, and stopped at the Books A Million to browse before heading home. We were home by 7, and we put the kids to bed.

Allen had been wanting me to watch the Lord of the Rings trilogy, but I had wanted to wait until I got through reading the books. I decided to go ahead and watch them, so for New Year's Eve, we got into our pj's, drank a glass of champagne and watched the first movie. I made it until the ball dropped in New York, and Allen and I prayed and kissed. I conked out shortly after that. It was such a great day.

I promised Allen I would relax on New Year's Day, and I didn't even get out of my pj's all day. I cooked a huge, delicious breakfast and we stuffed ourselves. I gently puttered around after that, because that doesn't stress him out, :), and even took a small nap! We ended the day with pizza, and after the kids went down, drank Santa's White Christmas coffee and watched more LOTR.

It was such a great holiday, and I was truly sad to see it end. We decided not to start back school until Monday, and ease back into routine of life! We spent Wednesday with friends, and that helped with the Daddy Detoxes!!

And through it all, I didn't take but 3 pictures. What am I going to scrap in 10 years when I get to this year??? I'll just cut and paste the above synopsis, I suppose!

On a random note, I miss my old houses' radiators. They would be so warm and cozy. I'd put a blanket on top of one, and sit and read Little House on the Prairie books all day. It's one of the things that I hate my kids won't ever know the wonder of!!!

I hope your New Year's was great too!!