Valley of Vision

Came across this prayer this morning and am asking God to continually remind me of this and stir my heart because of it. Hope you're encouraged and stirred or at the very least perplexed by it:

Thou art worthy to be

praised with my every breath,

loved with my every faculty of soul,

served with my every act of life.

Thou hast loved me, espoused me, received me,

purchased, washed, favoured, clothed,

adorned me,

when I was worthless, vile, soiled, polluted.

I was dead in iniquities,

having no eyes to see thee,

no ears to hear thee,

no taste to relish thy joys,

no intelligence to know thee;

BUT thy Spirit has quickened me,

has brought me into a new world as a

new creature,

has given me spiritual perception,

has opened to me thy Word as light, guide,

solace, joy.

So much sweet peace and joy in any circumstance in light of this truth.

2203 Maple Hollow Trail

That's right. We are the proud new renters of 2203 Maple Hollow Trail. We're officially moved in. (ok, maybe not so officially due to the amount of boxes I've yet to unpack) Either way, we're loving having space and a neighborhood with a wonderful pool, basketball, tennis and volleyball courts litchrally! (Parks and Recreation, anyone?) 100 yards from our house.

Our neighbors are wonderful and have walked out to meet us on several occasions. Linda even invited me inside and gave me lemonade while we chatted about the neighborhood. She's the one that knows everything about everyone. In a non-nosy, spying kind of way.

I've even got a little starter garden with tomatoes, onions, peppers and a few other mystery veggies! Which, let's be honest here, I know my dad farms acres and acres of this stuff, but my goal is to just not kill it this summer. I don't know that I got his green thumb gene.

So now that I've talked about how much I love our neighborhood, house and life, I'll tell you my dilemma: decorating. In our cozy little 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom downtown apartment, creating a warm, homy atmosphere was less than overwhelming. We had plenty of furniture and wall hangings to make things feel nice and inviting. Here, well, I'm struggling. So- I need your help. Without spending lots of money, I want to make our space original, inviting, warm, cozy.

Here are some areas I'm unsure about what to do with:

-The Foyer. It's tiled with lots of great light coming from the huge oval window in our door, that I have yet to get a curtain for. My vision is to have a few hanging vases like these. And maybe some whimsical slash vintage frames arranged ever so artfully on the walls surrounding the door. Maybe some hooks for keys and jackets and things. See? Overwhelming.

-The Walls: Our landlord has been hesitant to let us paint. And now she's in Germany for a few weeks, so I don't want to paint without her approval. But painting is such an easy answer to creating a warm room. I painted a room in our previous apartment a Marigold yellow and it was instantaneously inviting. So, I'm probably going to do this again if my landlord lets us. But until then, I want to hang the random photos and things in an organized, asymmetrical way. Any ideas on how to do this or photos/blogs on wall hanging arrangements would be fabulous!

-The Master Bedroom: It's huge. and bare. Here I go again referencing our wonderful apartment... but I LOVED our bedroom. Especially with Elle's baby nook :) It was shabby chic and the perfect set up for us. So I need some ideas on what to do when you have lots of space, but not very much money to fill it. Aish.

A New Normal...

Well... I haven't quite figured it out, but I feel like I may be getting there. After 6 weeks of being Ellerbe's mama, I feel like I've earned a few nuggets of wisdom.

- Pursue community.

Being a stay at home mom can be very isolating. This realization came after a particularly pitiful day. I had literally done nothing all day except for feed my child and try to calm her sweet tummy down. She finally fell asleep and so I took a nap too. Tyler walked in from work around 4:30 and here's what he saw: his darling wife in his XL Gun Barrel City Tshirt, baggy pajama pants, hair in a greasy ponytail. You get the picture. All around pathetic. AND I hadn't brushed my teeth at all that day. Gross. In tears and frustration I welcomed him home by handing over Elle. I was lonely, felt ashamed and guilty because I had accomplished nothing of seeming significance and had been caught in the act. It was then that I realized that if I don't pursue people, I am going to be caught in the shame spiral of loneliness and despair of raising a child. If I don't invite people into my life, I'm going to be stuck believing the lie that I'm valuable because of what I accomplish. If I don't confess what's going on inside me I'm going to start resenting my sweet baby girl and I'm going to lose sight of the mission that God has put before me- to love her as Jesus loves me, giving myself completely for her that she might one day know how much God loves her because of how I take care of her.

-Take a dang shower.

In the first few weeksof mommyhood, I simply could not handle Elle crying. It sent me into a stressed out frenzy, even though I know that sometimes infants just cry even if nothing's wrong. So letting her cry for 5 minutes while I took a shower (or...ahem...brushed my teeth) was just out of the question. But, oh man... I've discovered just how cleansing, both inwardly and outwardly, those few minutes alone in the shower can be. It's been pretty consistent throughout the 6 weeks of her little life that showering provides the quiet and solitude that my soul needs to remember Jesus, remember the truth of His gospel, and more tangibly just feel like a human being again. So, new moms, take a shower, even if it means your little one has to cry for a short while.

-Get out of the house.

Yes, it's 10 times more difficult to do anything now. You've got a baby, an infant carrier that weighs 50 pounds (why are those things so stinking heavy?!), a diaper bag that you must remember to load with pacifiers, bottles for a potential melt down, diapers, wipes, extra clothes, extra extra clothes, etc. But, go to the grocery store. Go get coffee with a friend or for heaven's sake, go through the drive through at Chic-Fil-A just to get a sweet tea. Sitting in your house all day attached to your sweet one will drive you a little crazy if you don't get out.

-Get a full-sized swing.

It's my best friend. Little Bit can lay in the swing (normally) for an hour and if she falls asleep I usually get another hour or two. Oh my goodness. I tried to be financially and spacial-ly economical by getting the portable swing. She does NOT enjoy the little swing as much as the full sized, side-to-side, birdie twirling swing. She gurgles and smiles and LOVES her swing. And mama gets dishes, laundry, or down time :) It's awesome.

-Strive for contentment in your current situation.

When I was just dating Tyler, I thought my life would be better when I was engaged, when engaged-married, when unemployed- it was teaching, on the hard days of teaching- it was being a mama, now that I'm a mama- I tend to think life will be better when she's sleeping 12 hours or taking longer naps or starts walking, etc. Point being- as a "grass is greener on the other side-er" I've been struggling to just SO enjoy those quiet, snuggly baby moments at 2:30 in the morning after a feeding. But to not do that is to worship a circumstance or situation, not Jesus. Jesus has perfectly placed me in every situation and circumstance and each one of them serves to make me love and adore Him more. To not do this is idolatry. It's forsaking the truth that Jesus loves me, is on my side, and works all things FOR me. Not necessarily for my comfort, but for the good of my soul. It's a sweet truth that God has been working in me and reminding me of as I start to grow bitter during the sleepless nights and fussy days.

*However, I will proudly and HAPPILY say that Ellerbe Anne has slept for 6 consecutive hours 3 nights this week.

-Give that baby a bottle.

I am breastfeeding, but it has been SO NICE to pump in between feedings so that Tyler or whoever can help me feed her. (We also went through a bout of not being able to nurse at night due to frustration and exhaustion on both of our parts. It just wasn't working. So for about 2 and a half weeks I bottle fed for the late night/early morning feedings. For the record, we're back to nursing at night. We got it under control. :) )It's what allows me to go out alone, sleep in a little bit, finish laundry, go on a date with my man, etc. I read a lot of craziness about not giving your baby a bottle or pacifier in the first month because they might get confused and forget how to nurse. And I'm sure that can be an issue for some kids. But when we got home that first night and I nursed for 2 hours straight because when I wasn't nursing her she was screaming, we quickly threw that advice out the window and gave the little, sweet, screaming, angry love bug a pacifier out of sheer exhaustion. As it turns out, sucking is a way that babies calm themselves down. And Elle couldn't keep her little fist in her mouth so she needed something else to help her calm down. Fortunately, the girl can still eat like nobody's business. She also takes a bottle like a champ and I know that this is not the case with all babes, so we definitely consider ourselves lucky.

So, we're adjusting to a new normal and loving this sweet new little life as God shows us more of Himself through her.

Just for fun. :)

Elle's Story...

WARNING: If birth stories might make you pass out (it happens. to people I'm related to.) I would skip reading this post. I get a little detailed.

I wanted to take some time to write out the story of Elle being born. Not that it's especially riveting or anything like that, I just want to make sure I record every detail before things start getting to clouded by dirty diapers and late night feedings. (and if you're pregnant, and if you're anything like me when I was pregnant, you'll enjoy reading through other people's birth stories in anticipation of your own.)

Thursday evening I decided that I'd had enough sitting around and waiting, so I went to dinner with some friends from our Missional Community. We spent time eating, laughing and praying together over the remainder of our semester. We also took communion together and spent time thinking on the painful beauty of Jesus' death and resurrection so that we might know and love Him. It was so refreshing to be in God's presence with sweet friends. My anxious, distracted, baby-waiting heart was put to rest as I remembered that Jesus is for me. He's on my side and not holding out on me. It was a great evening.

Now, my mom was on her way into town that night so I had really been praying and hoping to go into labor soon so that she wouldn't waste her precious vacation days sitting around with her beached whale of a daughter with no baby to hold and help me care for. Well, on my way home from our missional community I had a bit of a coughing fit in the car and my... um... water broke :) It wasn't a flood, mind you, but I HIGHLY suspected that we would be heading to the hospital very soon.

I got home and informed Tyler of my suspicions. He was a little skeptical as this had happened before. (a false alarm, obviously.) But I wasn't in any hurry to rush to the hospital. My contractions weren't super painful or close together yet, so I thought we'd just sleep in our own bed and go to our scheduled appointment on Friday morning at 9:30am. During the night, my contractions got more and more intense and I continued to ahem... leak, but I was still feeling ok. I didn't end up sleeping very much because I was so focused on timing contractions. But I sat up in our wonderful glider and read Harry Potter and thought about how I'd probably be rocking our sweet girl very soon.

Friday morning, my mom made coffee, I ate a bowl of cereal, Tyler went for a run and then we packed up all our little dolls and dishes and made our way to our appointment. The appointment was quick. It went something like this:

Me: I think my water broke last night.

Dr.: Well let's check. Yep. That's what happened. See you upstairs.

So we checked in to Labor and Delivery at 10 am. I was still feeling ok. I was still only dilated 1 cm. That was a little disheartening, but I was checked into the hospital and I knew I'd be leaving with our baby. We were all excited and ready to go.

Around 11 or so, our sweet nurse gave me a pill to help get my cervix ready to dilate. This pill is so potent that you can't even touch it if you are pregnant because it might cause you to start contracting. Crazy. Anyway, this little teeny tiny pill definitely jumpstarted things for me. I was still able to handle the contractions, but with Elle being so low in my pelvis and my uterus going all crazy, around 3:30 I was ready for some kind of relief in the form of heavy narcotics.

Here's what I've been told about epidurals: "Oh! You can have it as SOON as you want it!" Now, I went in with the mindset that I would hold out as long as I could, but you better believe I was going to ask for that epidural when I was through with the being tough thing.

Well, that's not how it went on Good Friday. In tears, I called my nurse. "I think I'm ready for the epidural now!" I was crying because I felt like a baby, because I was still only dilated 1 cm. And because I was in a lot of pain.

When my sweet nurse got in the room, I apologized for being such a sobbing mess and she responded with - "Oh, sweetie, this is good. You actually look like a patient in labor now." Apparently, reading Harry Potter and watching the Office with your husband on his laptop is not how normal labor patients look. So, I felt official. And then I felt really sad because she told me I couldn't have the epidural yet. My normal ObGYN (whom I love and could write volumes about how wonderful he is, so if you need a recommendation, let me know) wasn't on call that day and apparently, the doctor who would be delivering our babe was MUCH more strict on his epidural allowances.

So I labored for 3 1/2 more hours with only a little demerol in my veins. Which really, just made me feel drunk and in pain. But I think that was better than not drunk and in pain. FINALLY, the nurse worked up the courage to ask Dr. Akin again if I could have my epidural. After checking to see how dilated I was, (still 1 cm. bah.) but finding that Elle was super super low (or "engaged" I think is the medical term) in my pelvis, he decided that I was probably in a considerable amount of pain and gave the OK to give the epidural. What a glorious announcement it was for me to hear," The anesthesiologist will be here in 15 min." I think I remember asking Tyler if I could do this for another 15 minutes. And I think he said something super encouraging and compassionate. (Later, Tyler said he maxed out his encouragement and compassion quota for the year with me in that delivery room. He really was a wonderful, wonderful support.)

Epidurals are (very seriously) such a tangible picture of God's sweet grace and mercy. Praise God.

Around 11pm or so, I started feeling some considerable pressure (who knew that there was pain after the epidural?! I sure as heck didn't.) and knew that something was going on. They had just told me around 9 or 10, I think, that I was dilated to a 5 and they estimated about 1 cm an hour at this point. Well... Little Bit was ready to get the heck out of there and only an hour or so later I was almost completely dilated and effaced. (Just means that everything is ready to go!)

So, the nurses started setting up their little table for Elle's arrival. That was really exciting and crazy. Even through the contractions I was feeling in the form of intense pressure/needing to push feeling, Tyler and I were talking about how crazy it was going to be in a few minutes when we started pushing this little girl into the world!!

I pushed for and hour and a half (yes, I watched in a mirror. seriously mamas to be, consider it. it was SUPER motivating. and pushing is hard work.) and then I got to meet Ellerbe Anne. Sweetest little squid-like newborn you ever did see.

I think Elle might just be the cutest little girl in the whole world. But newborns just are not good looking.

I really do think about that first moment I had holding our little girl often. Precious, wonderful, sweet, joyful, I cannot think of enough of these kinds of words to capture what that moment was like. There was such a rush of sweet sweet joy as they handed her to me. (I don't know if I ever shared this, but I was deathly afraid I would drop her when that moment finally came. I'm happy to report that I did not drop her. Slippery goo and all.)

I think the only comprehensible thing that came out of my mouth in that moment was, "Oh my goodness. I don't even care that your gross right now!" ha. Here's a picture of that moment:

You can clearly see my lack of regard for her cleanliness. Gah, that's a good moment that I'm hoping will be etched into my memory for as long as I'm alive.

My second favorite moment of the night: Seeing Tyler hold his little girl. He just looked at her with these eyes that I've never seen. He sure doesn't look at me that way. (He loves me. A whole lot. But he loves her in a completely different way. And I'm totally ok with that.)

Disregard the leg in the stirrup. That's not mine. Weird.

Well, that's our sweet Elle's story. That was 3 weeks ago. Currently, we're laying on the couch together. Elle's sleeping, I'm finishing up this blogpost and waiting for her to wake up to eat. I thought it would be alot sooner, or I would have gone to bed when she did.

I have lots of blogposts to write about things that have saved my life. things that have almost killed me. things that i love. things i have learned to love. things God is teaching me. there's lots to share and write about, but forgive me if I'm not as prompt on the blogging as I want to be. I'm working on a new normal here.

Love this little sleeping beauty.

I Just Love Birthdays...

And I especially love the little one who's birth we're celebrating today. :)

Ellerbe Anne David was born at 1:20 am on 4/23/11. She weighs a whopping 7 lbs 11 oz and is 20 1/2 inches long. And she's the most beautiful little girl I have ever laid my eyes on. We're completely smitten.

I don't have time to write out everything that is so wonderful about being this little one's mama already... I'll save it for another day. There have been guests in and out all day long and right now I'm going to to enjoy some sweet time with this little one, because we're finally alone.

Sweet Dreams.

Too Much...

I'm on day 3 of maternity leave with no baby. Here's how it's going:

Too much...

-time on my hands. I've vacuumed a couple of times. Cleaned our fridge and freezer. Mopped floors. Done every shred of laundry.

THERE'S NOTHING LEFT ON MY TO-DO LIST! So I'm making things up, like organizing our medicine cabinet and wash room.

-episodes of the Office that I've seen already 500 times.

Who am I kidding, I still love it.

-Harry Potter. (I'm rereading the series.)

-nesting. I've spent way too much money on things that I know Elle won't need. Some of the best advice I got was from Olivia: leave tags on everything and keep receipts. Definitely going to have to make some trips back to Target and Babies R Us to return some of my unnecessary purchases. :)

Glad my husband is gracious with me.

-trips to Dr. Seekers office. I've already been twice this week and come back with no baby. Dr. Seeker is a wonderful doctor and I know he's making his best guess at when the little Lovie will arrive but, on Monday he said, "If I were a betting man, I'd bet she'll be here by Wednesday. But let's schedule you to come in on Wednesday just in case." Today (Wednesday) he said, "I'm 90% positive she'll be here in 48 hours."

Mmmm... I love you Dr. Seeker, but I'm done getting my hopes up on your bets.

Does this post sound bitter? I'm really not. I'm genuinely enjoying my time off. Going on dates with my hubby, cooking him delicious dinners like this one. I also love that our house will be nice and tidy when Elle gets to come back with us. And I'm thinking about doing some baking today? See? I'm content.

But, I still really want to meet our daughter. There are so many unknowns, I'm ready to stop talking about them and actually struggle through them.

So, here's to our bags being packed, everything dusted and washed. And here's to our anxious hearts. May they wait patiently on God's timing for our daughter to make her entrance.

Cheers. :)

Conversations with 9 year olds...

Here are two snippets of great conversations I had this week with my kids:

1. Esmeralda: Mrs. David, I can't really remember what you look like when you were skinny.

Mrs. D: Me neither, Esmeralda... me neither.

2. Thristan (who comes up to about my belly button): You still pregnant?

Me: I'm still pregnant...

Thristan: Alright...

I had a great week. We won't mention the false alarm labor that took us to the hospital at 11:30 at night. We had to walk the walk of shame out of the hospital, still sporting a large belly and carrying no baby.

39 weeks is quickly approaching and I'm no closer to having a baby than I was at 38 weeks. I will say that I'm not discouraged. I don't really feel like one of those pregnant women who is waddling around screaming, "GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" Mostly because right now, I know that she's taken care of. She's got everything she needs, doesn't cry, and is safely tucked behind my uterine wall. Does it make me a bad mama that I'm ok with her staying put for a little while? Don't get me wrong... I'm so excited to cuddle this sweet girl. I cannot wait to bring her home to all the wonderful things that are waiting here for her. But, for now... she's happy and we're happy.

Happiness all around. Especially because we are playing hooky tomorrow. I'm going to cash in on some gift certificates that have burning a hole in my pocket: Mani, pedi and a prenatal massage. Call it a mental health day, if you will. Ahhhhhh...