More Baby Names

This post is not about the official names we've picked out, sorry to disappoint. You'll have to wait for those until November.

These baby names are more nicknames that our baby has been dubbed with:

baby avocado (from week 16)

my banana (from this week, week 21)

Fetus -- Jeff calls the baby this as if it's his/her actual name. "Hello Fetus." "When Fetus comes..." "How's Fetus today?"

Quakelet still stands...

and my new favorite:

Baby Jelly (Jeff + Kelly), given to us by a Miss Kelsey Palmer while visiting us last month

Baby Jelly must like that one, because I'm feeling kicks as I write! :)

Multiple Floods

It hit us yesterday. Rain so hard that at times I wondered if the roof would be able to withstand it. There is something so soothing about the rain, how it washes away the dirt and leaves the earth smelling and looking refreshed. I really enjoy the rain. But yesterday's rain was hard. Dark and stormy. Almost angry.

It wasn't until around 8 o'clock that Jeff went into the basement to clean up his desk that he noticed the water. There wasn't a whole lot--about 2 inches, but it was enough to make a mess. We all went down to asses the damage and realized we were in for a long night.

To make a long story short, the builder of this house cut some corners and the rain was collecting near a window; it would build up so much that the window would bow out and we thought it would break at any moment. For an hour, my husband emptied the water which accumulated outside of the window (soon as it was emptied it was full again). We tried to move items outside of the water's way, but eventually the whole floor was wet and there was nothing left to do. Boxes were wet and soggy, papers were ruined, dirt and mud (frogs and slugs too) were everywhere. What a mess.

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After what seemed like the 100th time in the past 6 months that I've felt as if I could not take living in this house anymore--and if I had to do it another minute I would just absolutely burst--my loving husband came upstairs tonight to "show me something". He closed the door, turned off all the lights (no, it's not what you're thinking) and took me over to the window. He raised the shades and we just stood there. A few seconds passed and then my eyes began to focus on the flickering lights in our yard. There must have been a hundred of them. Flying round and round, lighting up the night sky...

...Fireflies!!!

The yard and the field across the street were flooded with them--it was a beautiful sight. It was also a perfect and timely reminder for me that even through the storm, life goes on...and where there is life, there is God. He is near. The God who made those simple yet captivating bugs knows not only what and where they are, but who and where we are too. He has not forgotten us in our time of need.

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It was then that my emotions flooded over. Such a simple act of tenderness that my husband would take the time from cleaning the basement, searching for houses online, organizing his papers, etc. to come up and show me this sight. My eyes welled up and I could not help but to cry out and thank him for this beautiful moment. It made my day! Of course he laughed and called me "cute" as he always does when I cry, but I didn't care. It didn't matter that we are at wit's end with living here, it didn't matter that just a few minutes ago I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. A simple act from a husband who knows his wife's love of simple pleasures made all the difference.

We then spent the next hour on the front porch watching those fireflies in the darkness, just the two of us. I loved every minute of it.

Hmm, I'm sure I could be clever here and come up with some sort of analogy about how the flies are in the dark and yet still living with the "light" but I just don't feel like it. I just want to keep it simple today.

Neighbors

Neighborhoods are a funny thing. Gone are the days where people sat on their front porches, waved to passers-by and knew everyone that lived on their street, and sometimes the next street or two over.

Now it's the each-to-his-own mentality for most people on the street. People mind their own business, mow only up to their property line and no further, and sit out on their back decks in "privacy".

I hate that. But I'm guilty of it. How long have I lived in this house and do I know anyone who lives in this corner of the world yet? No.

Well, today I made a step in the right direction. There is a man who I've been watching since we moved here. He and his wife live on the corner of our street and they're outside most days. He gets on his riding lawn mower each week and cuts the grass, and some weeks he cuts the field next to his house. He tends to the beautiful gardens they have around the house, and he sits a lot, shaded by the garage, watching the world go by on his corner.

Oftentimes I wonder what he must think of me, the woman who is at home all the time but never out. I go out to get the mail of course, but come right back in. Occasionally I'll sit on the front porch now that the chairs are out there, but mostly I stay inside (remember the "attic" I mentioned last post?). I peek out the doorway and watch he and his wife interact, I watch from my bedroom window, I hear his loud, deep voice and watch him talking. It's like a game I guess: Learn who your neighbors are without ever meeting them!!!

Today, I waved to him!

He was out when I went to get the mail, and of course, I was watching him, and this time he saw me! Soon I think I'll go over there and introduce myself to them. I do believe we may be the only ones on the street that are home each day, so we could very well strike up a friendship here on the Hill!

Maybe I'll even bake something and take it over...Goodies always get 'em.

Existing No More!

I tried to post the other day, but blogspot was having an ill spell; when I hit "publish post" the next screen told me that my thoughts were lost in cyberspace...forever. There was no getting them back, and I was totally bummed.

So I'll try again and see what happens.

I've been learning a ton lately, and most of it is hard stuff. I used to be able to take the stuff and look forward to what would come out of it--feeling armed and ready with the new tools I had--but there is so much to learn this time around, about so many different things, that I feel bogged down by it all instead of excited.

One of the main things I've learned lately is that I have been merely existing here in my new homestate. There has been no real living going on, only getting by. (This was what my lost post was on, I hope I can recapture some of it...) What kind of life is that??? Who wants to live that way in a new marriage, with a baby on the way, in a new home, new state? Certainly not I, or did I?

I allowed myself to get sucked up by the negatives of the move, rather than embrace the learning that would come and put them in my "tool belt" for later use. I did not look for the positives the way I would've liked to. I did not allow the challenges to deepen my faith, strengthen me or push me to grow more. I have not praised God even in the storm, though if one were to ask what my reaction to such trials would be, that would've been my #1 answer.

This is shameful to me because I was always one who prided herself on finding the good in things, going with the flow, making the best out of every situation and learning about life with the challenges presented. I loved that part of me.

I'm not really sure what happened this time, but my trip back home last month helped me to put things into perspective, give myself grace and take those challenges (finally!) for what they are: growth opportunities. For it was this trip home that kicked my butt and made me realize that I need to step it up if I want to see what God is doing, rather than just sitting around waiting for it all to pass so I can say, "Wow, look what's happenend!"

So, no more existing for me. Paul says in Philippians that to die is to gain. I know that to die for Christ to is gain real life, eternal life, life the way it was meant to be. I feel like I've been living in a boarded up room, with the doors and shutters closed to the outside world, because it's safe inside. I have been so afraid to see why He has put me here and what His plans for me are that I've forgotten some of the best parts of me, and I've missed some of the sweetest pleasures in life, too.

I am finally ready to open the shutters of my heart so that the light may be let in. I am ready to learn, and to live. How thankful I am that the Lord waited patiently for me to come to this realization, and that throughout the merely existing stage that I've been in, He has never left me.